And blinking upon him in drunken wise flung back the jeer:
‘Come now, by thy deep divination reveal unto me, thou seer,
If the Gods for me also be bringing to pass such doom as that
Which was dealt of that father of thine to the sons that Alôeus begat.
And bethink thee how thou shalt escape from mine hands alive, if we find {490}
Thee guilty of boding a prophecy vain as the idle wind!’
Wrathfuller waxed he in railing: and now had the strife run high,
But amidst of their wrangling their comrades with loud indignant cry,
With Aison’s son, restrained them:—and lo, with his lyre upheld
In his left hand, Orpheus arose, and the fountain of song upwelled.