LXX.

Quickly rising, in a moment of time, {173c} After kindling a fire at the confluence, {173d} in front of the fence, {173e} After leading his men in close array, In front of a hundred he pierces the foremost. {173f} Sad it was that you should have made a pool of blood, As if you but drank mead in the midst of laughter; {174a} But it was brave of you to slay the little man, {174b} With the fierce and impetuous stroke of the sword; For like the unrestrained ocean {174c} had the foe {174d} put to death A man, who would otherwise have been in rank his equal.