ey had neither seen nor
heard of him, though he was now born five days. For he was hidden
among rushes in an impenetrable brake, his tender body all suffused
with golden and deep purple gleams of iris flowers; wherefore his
mother prophesied saying that by this holy name[7] of immortality he
should be called throughout all time.

But when he had come to the ripeness of golden-crowned sweet youth,
he went down into the middle of Alpheos and called on wide-ruling
Poseidon his grandsire, and on the guardian of god-built Delos, the
bearer of the bow[8], praying that honour might be upon his head for
the rearing of a people; and he stood beneath the heavens, and it was
night.

Then the infallible Voice of his father answered and said unto him:
Arise, my son, and come hither, following my voice, into a place where
all men shall meet together.

So they came to the steep rock of lofty Kronion; there the god gave
him a twofold treasure of prophecy, that for the time then being he
should hearken to his voice that cannot lie; but when Herakles of
valorous counsels, the sacred scion of the Alkeidai, should have come,
and should have founded a multitudinous feast and the chief ordinance
of games[9], then again on the summit of the altar of Zeus he bade him
establish yet another oracle, that thenceforth the race of Iamidai
should be glorious among Hellenes.

Good luck abode with them; for that they know the worth of valour they
are entered on a glorious road.

The matter proveth the man, but from the envious calumny ever
threateneth them on whom, as they drive foremost in the twelfth[10]
round of the course, Charis sheddeth blushing beauty to win them fame
more fair.

Now if in very truth, Agesias, thy mother's ancestors dwelling by the
borders of Kyllene did piously and oft offer up prayer and sacrifice
to Hermes, herald of the gods, who hath to his keeping the strife and
appointment of games, and doeth honour to Arcadia the nurse of goodly
men,--then surely he, O son of Sostratos, with his loud-thundering
sire, is the accomplisher of this thy bliss.

Methinks I have upon my tongue a whetstone of loud sounding speech,
which to harmonious breath constraineth me nothing loth. Mother of my
mother was Stymphalian Metope[11] of fair flowers, for she bare Thebe
the charioteer, whose pleasant fountain I will drink, while I weave
for warriors the changes of my song.

Now rouse thy fellows, Aineas, first to proclaim the name of
m