Envied! Gods, sure, with these behooves we honor:

But, for a mortal on these varied beauties

To walk—to me, indeed, is nowise fear-free.

I say—as man, not god, to me do homage!

Apart from foot-mats both and varied vestures

Renown is loud, and—not to lose one's senses,

God's greatest gift. Behooves we him call happy

Who has brought life to end in loved wellbeing.

If all things I might manage thus—brave man, I!

Klu. Come now, this say, nor feign a feeling to me!