Thus did Porphyrion provoke thee unaware.  Now precious is the gain that one beareth away from the house of a willing giver.  But violence shall ruin a man at the last, boast he never so loudly.  He of Kilikia, Typhon of the hundred heads, escaped not this, neither yet the king of giants[1]:  but by the thunderbolt they fell and by the bow of Apollo, who with kind intent hath welcomed Xenarches home from Kirrha, crowned with Parnassian wreaths and Dorian song.

Not far from the Graces’ ken falleth the lot of this righteous island-commonwealth, that hath attained unto the glorious deeds of the sons of Aiakos[2]:  from the beginning is her fame perfect, for she is sung of as the nurse of heroes foremost in many games and in violent fights:  and in her mortal men also is she pre-eminent.

But my time faileth me to offer her all I might tell at length by lute and softer voice of man, so that satiety vex not.

So let that which lieth in my path, my debt to thee, O boy, the youngest of thy country’s glories, run on apace, winged by my art.

For in wrestlings thou art following the footsteps of thy uncles, and shamest neither Theognetos at Olympia, nor the victory that at Isthmos was won by Kleitomachos’ stalwart limbs.

And in that thou makest great the clan of the Midylidai thou attainest unto the very praise which on a time the son of Oikleus spake in a riddle, when he saw at seven-gated Thebes the sons of the Seven standing to their spears, what time from Argos came the second race on their new enterprise[3].  Thus spake he while they fought:  ’By nature, son, the noble temper of thy sires shineth forth in thee.  I see clearly the speckled dragon that Alkmaion weareth on his bright shield, foremost at the Kadmean gates.

And he who in the former fight fared ill, hero Adrastos, is now endowed with tidings of a better omen.  Yet in his own house his fortune shall be contrariwise:  for he alone of all the Danaan host, after that he shall have gathered up the bones of his dead son, shall by favour of the gods come back with unharmed folk to the wide streets of Abas[4].’

On this wise spake Amphiaraos.  Yea and with joy I too myself throw garlands on Alkmaion’s grave, and shower it withal with songs, for that being my neighbour and guardian of my possessions[5] he met me as I went up to the earth’s centre-stone, renowned in song, and showed forth the gift of prophecy which belongeth unto his house[6].

But thou, far-darter, ruler of the glorious temple whereto all men go up, amid the glens of Pytho didst there grant this the greatest of joys:  and at home before didst thou bring to him at the season of thy feast the keen-sought prize of the pentathlon.  My king, with willing heart I make avowal that through thee is harmony before mine eyes in all that I sing of every conqueror.

By the side of our sweet-voiced song of triumph hath Righteousness taken her stand, and I pray, O Xenarches[7], that the favour of God be unfailing toward the fortune of thee and thine.  For if one hath good things to his lot without long toil, to many he seemeth therefore to be wise among fools and to be crowning his life by right devising of the means.  But these things lie not with men:  it is God that ordereth them, who setteth up one and putteth down another, so that he is bound beneath the hands of the adversary.