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Scornful he spoke, and o'er his shoulder flung
The broad-patch'd scrip in tatters hung
Ill join'd, and knotted to a twisted thong.
Then, turning short, disdain'd a further stay;
But to the palace measured back the way.
There, as he rested gathering in a ring,
The peers with smiles address'd their unknown king:
"
Stranger, may Jove and all the aerial powers
With every blessing crown thy happy hours!
Our freedom to thy prowess'd arm we owe
From bold intrusion of thy coward foe:
Instant the flying sail the slave shall wing
To Eschetus, the monster of a king."
While pleased he hears, Antinous bears the food,
A kid's well-fatted entrails, rich with blood;
The bread from canisters of shining mould
Amphinomus; and wines that laugh in gold:
"And oh! (he mildly cries) may Heaven display
A beam of glory o'er thy future day!
Alas, the brave too oft is doom'd to bear
The gripes of poverty and stings of care."
To whom with thought mature the king replies:
"The tongue speaks wisely, when the soul is wise:
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