Thou shalt not lead, thyself the noblest born;
Nor yet among the blazing altar fires,780
With nimble feet the ancient sacred dance
At some barbaric temple celebrate,
While horns swell forth swift-moving melodies.
Oh, mode of death, far worse than bloody war!
More tearful sight than mighty Hector's end
The walls of Troy must see.785
Ulysses: Now stay thy tears,
For mighty grief no bound or respite finds.