And him the victor in the games should slay
To Zeus, the King of Gods, when all was done,
And so with sacrifice should crown the day.

XXXVI.

"Now it were over long, methinks, to tell
The contest of the heady charioteers,
Of them the goal that turn'd, and them that fell.
But I outran the young men of my years,
And with the bow did I out-do my peers,
And wrestling; and in boxing, over-bold,
I strove with Hector of the ashen spears,
Yea, till the deep-voiced Heralds bade us hold.

XXXVII.

"Then Priam hail'd me winner of the day;
Mine were the maid, the cup, and chiefest prize,
Mine own fair milkwhite bull was mine to slay;
But then the murmurs wax'd to angry cries,
And hard men set on me in deadly wise,
My brethren, though they knew it not; I turn'd,
And fled unto the place of sacrifice,
Where altars to the God of strangers burn'd.

XXXVIII.

"At mine own funeral feast, had I been slain,
But, fearing Zeus, they halted for a space,