Hector I shall find many friends now that fortune smiles upon my warring and Zeus is on my side. But we have no need of those who did not share our toils long since, when Ares, driving all before him, was rending the sails of our ship of state with his tempestuous blast. Rhesus has shown the friendship he then bore to Troy; for he comes to the feast, although he was not with the hunters when they took the prey, nor did he join his spear with theirs.
Chorus Leader You are right to scorn and blame such friends; yet welcome those who wish to help the state.
Hector We who have long kept Ilium safe are sufficient.
Chorus Are you so sure you have already caught the foe?
Hector I am sure; tomorrow’s light will make that plain.
Chorus Leader Beware of what may happen; often fortune veers about.
Hector I loath the friend who brings his help too late. But let him, since he has arrived, come to our table not as an ally but as a guest; for the gratitude of Priam’s sons is forfeit in his case.
Chorus Leader O prince, to turn away allies earns hatred.
Messenger His mere appearance would cause a panic among the foe.
Hector You counsel rightly; you too take the proper view. Let Rhesus in his gilded armor join the allies of this land, thanks to the messenger’s report.
Chorus
May Nemesis, daughter of Zeus, check the word that may offend; for lo! I will utter all that it is dear to my soul to say. You have come, O son of the river god, you have come, welcome in your advent, to the halls of Friendship, since late in time your Pierian mother and Strymon, river with fair bridges, are sending you to us.
Chorus
Strymon, who begot you, his strong young son, that day his swirling waters found a refuge in the tuneful Muse’s virgin bosom. You are my Zeus, my god of light, as you come driving your dappled horses. Now, O Phrygia, O my country, now may you by God’s grace address Zeus the Deliverer!
Chorus
Shall old Troy once more at last spend the whole day in drinking toasts and singing love’s praise, while the bewildering wine-cup sends a capacious challenge round, as over the sea for Sparta the sons of Atreus quit the Ilian strand? O friend, with your arm and spear may you do me this service, then safe return.
Chorus
Come, appear, brandish that shield of gold full in Achilles’ face; raise it aslant along the chariot’s branching rail, urging on your horses, and shaking your lance with double point. For none after facing you will ever join the dance on the plains of Argive Hera; no, but he shall die, slain by Thracians, and this land shall bear the burden of his corpse and be glad. Hail, all hail! O mighty prince! fair the cub you have bred, O Thrace, a ruler in his every look. See his stalwart frame in golden corslet! Hark to the ringing bells that peal so proudly from his shield-handle. A god, O Troy, a god, a very Ares, Strymon’s colt and the tuneful Muse’s, has come to breathe courage into you.
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