PETRONIUS ARBITER
received, in keeping with the ancient precedent she snatched an olive-branch from the ship’s figurehead and, holding it out, advanced boldly to parley.
“What fury,” she exclaims, “turns peace to war? What evil deed
Was by these hands committed? Trojan hero there is none
Absconding in this ship with bride of Atreus’ cuckold seed
Nor crazed Medea, stained by life’s blood of her father’s son!
But passion scorned, becomes a power: alas! who courts his end
By drawing sword amidst these waves? Why die before our time?
Strive not with angry seas to vie and to their fury lend
Your rage by piling waves upon its savage floods sublime!”
Was by these hands committed? Trojan hero there is none
Absconding in this ship with bride of Atreus’ cuckold seed
Nor crazed Medea, stained by life’s blood of her father’s son!
But passion scorned, becomes a power: alas! who courts his end
By drawing sword amidst these waves? Why die before our time?
Strive not with angry seas to vie and to their fury lend
Your rage by piling waves upon its savage floods sublime!”
CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND NINTH. The woman poured out this rhapsody in a loud excited voice, the battle-line wavered
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