First, for the contest of the flying cars The prizes he display’d: a woman fair, Well skill’d in household cares; a tripod vast, Two-handled, two and twenty measures round; These both were for the victor: for the next, A mare, unbroken, six years old, in foal Of a mule colt; the third, a caldron bright, Capacious of four measures, white and pure, By fire as yet untarnish’d; for the fourth, Of gold two talents; for the fifth, a vase With double cup, untouch’d by fire, he gave. Then, standing up, he thus address’d the Greeks: “Thou son of Atreus, and ye well-greav’d Greeks, Before ye are the prizes, which await The contest of the cars; but if, ye Greeks, For any other cause these games were held, I to my tent should bear the foremost prize; For well ye know how far my steeds excel, Steeds of immortal race, which Neptune gave To Peleus, he to me, his son, transferr’d. But from the present strife we stand aloof, My horses and myself; they now have lost The daring courage and the gentle hand Of him who drove them, and with water pure Wash’d oft their manes, and bath’d with fragrant oil. For him they stand and mourn, with drooping heads Down to the ground, their hearts with sorrow fill’d; But ye in order range yourselves, who boast Your well-built chariots and your horses’ speed.” He said: up sprang the eager charioteers; The first of all, Eumelus, King of men, Son of Admetus, matchless charioteer; Next, Tydeus’ son, the valiant Diomed, With Trojan horses, from Æneas won, When by Apollo’s aid himself escap’d; Then Heav’n-born Menelaus, Atreus’ son, Two flying coursers harness’d to his car; His own, Podargus, had for yokefellow Æthe, a mare by Agamemnon lent: Her, Echepolus to Atrides gave, Anchises’ son, that to the wars of Troy He might not be compell’d, but safe at home Enjoy his ease; for Jove had bless’d his store With ample wealth, in Sicyon’s wide domain. Her now he yok’d, impatient for the course. The fourth, Antilochus, the gallant son Of Nestor, son of Neleus, mighty chief, Harness’d his sleek-skinn’d steeds; of Pylian race Were they who bore his car; to him, his sire Sage counsel pour’d in understanding ears: