"'Freed from that war, to distant shores we stray.
To Proteus' Pillars, far remote from men An exile, Menelaus wends his way; Ulysses shudders at the Cyclops' den; Why speak of Pyrrhus, by Orestes slain?
Or poor Idomeneus, expelled his state?
Of Locrians, cast upon the Libyan plain?
Of Agamemnon, greatest of the great, Mycenae's valiant lord, slain by his faithless mate, XXXV.

"'E'en on his threshold, when the adulterer lay In wait for Asia's conqueror?
Me, too, Hath envious Heaven in exile doomed to stay, Nor home, nor wife, nor Calydon to view.
Nay, ghastly prodigies my flight pursue.
Transformed to birds, my comrades wing the skies,-- Ah! cruel punishment for friends so true!-- Or skim the streams; from all the shores arise Their piteous shrieks, the cliffs re-echo with their cries.
XXXVI.

"'Such woes had I to look for, from the day I dared a goddess, and my javelin tore The hand of Venus.

To such fights, I pray, Persuade me not.

Troy fall'n, I fight no more With Trojans, nor those evil days of yore Now care to dwell on.