The feet indeed and the hands’ top divisionsHe hid, high up and isolated sitting:But, their unshowing parts in ignorance taking,He forthwith eats food — as thou seest — perditionTo the race: and then, ’ware of the deed ill-omened,He shrieked O! — falls back, vomiting, from the carnage,And fate on the Pelopidai past bearingHe prays down — putting in his curse togetherThe kicking down o’ the feast — that so might perishThe race of Pleisthenes entire: and thence isThat it is given thee to see this man prostrate.And I was rightly of this slaughter stitch-man:Since me, — being third from ten, — with my poor fatherHe drives out — being then a babe in swathe-bands:But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:And of this man I got hold — being without-doors —