“Ἃπαξ ἔπ’ εἰπεῖν ῥῆσιν ἢ θρῆνον θέλω ἐμὸν τὸν αὐτῆς.” _i.e._,—“Yet once again I wish for her to speak forth prophecy or lamentation, even my own,”—and Clytæmnēstra mentions the singing of the swan at the point of death (vv. 1444–7),— “Ὁ μὲν γὰρ οὕτως· ἡ δέ τοι κύκνου δίκην τὸν ὓστατον μέλψασα θανάσιμον γόον κεῖται φίλητωρ, τοῦδ’, ἐμοὶ δ’ ἐπηγαγεν εὐνης παροψώνημα τῆς ἐμῆς χλιδῆς.” Which is to this effect: that when she has sung the last mortal lamentation, according to the custom of the swan, she lies down as a lover, and offers to me the solace of the bed of my joy. [Illustration: _Horapollo, ed. 1551._] This notion of the singing of the swan is to be traced even to the hieroglyphics of Egypt. In answer to the question, “Πῶς γέροντα μουσικόν·”—how to represent “an old man musical?”—Horapollo, edition Paris, 1551, p. 136, replies,— “Ιἐροντα μουσικὸν βουλόμενοι σημῇναι, κύκνον ζωγραφοῦσιν. οὑ~τος γαρ ἡδύτατον μέλος ᾅδει γηράσκων.” _i.e._—“Wishing to signify an old man musical, they paint a swan; for this bird sings its sweetest melody when growing old.” Virgil frequently speaks of swans, both as melodious and as shrill voiced. Thus in the _Æneid_, vii. 700–3; xi. 457,— “Cum sese è pastu referunt, et longa canoros Dant per colla modos: sonat amnis et Asia longè Pulsa palus.” _i.e._—“When they return from feeding, and through their long necks give forth melodious measures; the river resounds and the Asian marsh from far.” “Piscosóve amne Padusæ Dant sonitum rauci per stagna loquacia cycni.”[119] _i.e._—“Or on the fish-abounding river Po the hoarse swans give forth a sound through the murmuring pools.” Horace, _Carm._ iv. 2. 25, names Pindar _Dircæum cycnum_,—“the Dircæan swan;” and _Carm._ ii. 20. 10, likens himself to an _album alitem_,—“a white-winged creature;” which a few lines further on he terms a _canorus ales_,—“a melodious bird,”—and speaks of his apotheosis to immortal fame.[120] Anacreon is called by Antipater of Sidon, _Anthol. Græc. Carm._ 76, κύκνος Τηϊος,—“the Teïan swan.” Poets, too, after death, were fancifully supposed to assume the form of swans. It was believed also that swans foresaw their own death, and previously sang their own elegy. Thus in Ovid, _Metam._ xiv. 430,— “Carmina jam monens canit exequialia Cygnus,”— “Now dying the Swan chants its funereal songs.” Very beautifully does Plato advert to this fiction in his account of the conversation of Socrates with his friends on the day of his execution. (See _Phædon_, Francfort edition, 1602, p. 77, 64A.) They were fearful of causing him trouble and vexation; but he reminds them they should not think him inferior in foresight to the swans; for these,—