It made unbidden feast; With blood the house was watered, To household came a woe there was no staying: Great mischief many-slaying!
 From God it was-some priest Of Até, in the house, by nurture thus increased. At first, then, to the city of Ilion went A soul, as I might say, of windless calm — Wealth’s quiet ornament, An eyes’-dart bearing balm, Love’s spirit-biting flower. But — from the true course bending — She brought about, of marriage, bitter ending: Ill-resident, ill-mate, in power Passing to the Priamidai — by sending Of Hospitable Zeus — Erinus for a bride, — to make brides mourn, her dower.
 Spoken long ago Was the ancient saying Still among mortals staying: Man’s great prosperity at height of rise Engenders offspring nor unchilded dies; And, from good fortune, to such families, Buds forth insatiate woe. Whereas, distinct from any, Of my own mind I am: For ’t is the unholy deed begets the many, Resembling each its dam. Of households that correctly estimate, Ever a beauteous child is born of Fate.