“Us twain it beseemeth in no wise with spear or with bronze-forged sword
To apportion the goodly honour of our fathers’ treasure-hoard;
Nor needeth it—lo, all sheep-flocks and tawny herds of kine
I yield unto thee, and the pastures and tilth-lands, still to be thine,
Whereof thou hast spoiled my parents, and ever art swelling thy store.
O yea, and it nowise vexeth my soul that of these evermore
Thou increasest thine house’s riches:—but the kingly sceptre and throne
Whereon the son of Kretheus sat in the days bygone,
And over a nation of horsemen ruled in equity,
Even these without malice between us yield unto him and to me,