The Iliads of Homer. Homer

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       Though it be little, I accept, and turn pleas'd to my tent;

       And yet that little thou esteem'st too great a continent

       In thy incontinent avarice. For Phthia therefore now

       My course is; since 'tis better far, than here t' endure that thou

       Should'st still be ravishing my right, draw my whole treasure dry,

       And add dishonour." He replied: "If thy heart serve thee, fly;

       Stay not for my cause; others here will aid and honour me;

       If not, yet Jove I know is sure; that counsellor is he

       That I depend on. As for thee, of all our Jove-kept kings

       Thou still art most my enemy; strifes, battles, bloody things,

       Make thy blood-feasts still. But if strength, that these moods

       build upon,

       Flow in thy nerves, God gave thee it; and so 'tis not thine own,

       But in his hands still. What then lifts thy pride in this so high?

       Home with thy fleet, and Myrmidons; use there their empery;

       Command not here. I weigh thee not, nor mean to magnify

       Thy rough-hewn rages, but, instead, I thus far threaten thee:

       Since Phœbus needs will force from me Chryseis, she shall go;

       My ships and friends shall waft her home; but I will imitate so

       His pleasure, that mine own shall take, in person, from thy tent

       Bright-cheek'd Briseis; and so tell thy strength how eminent

       My pow'r is, being compar'd with thine; all other making fear

       To vaunt equality with me, or in this proud kind bear

       Their beards against me." Thetis' son at this stood vex'd, his

       heart

       Bristled his bosom, and two ways drew his discursive part;

       If, from his thigh his sharp sword drawn, he should make room about

       Atrides' person, slaught'ring him, or sit his anger out,

       And curb his spirit. While these thoughts striv'd in his blood and

       mind,

       And he his sword drew, down from heav'n Athenia stoop'd, and shin'd

       About his temples, being sent by th' ivory-wristed Queen,

       Saturnia, who out of her heart had ever loving been,

       And careful for the good of both. She stood behind, and took

       Achilles by the yellow curls, and only gave her look

       To him appearance; not a man of all the rest could see.

       He turning back his eye, amaze strook every faculty;

       Yet straight he knew her by her eyes, so terrible they were,

       Sparkling with ardour, and thus spake: "Thou seed of Jupiter,

       Why com'st thou? To behold his pride, that boasts our empery?

       Then witness with it my revenge, and see that insolence die

       That lives to wrong me." She replied: "I come from heav'n to see

       Thy anger settled, if thy soul will use her sov'reignty

       In fit reflection. I am sent from Juno, whose affects

       Stand heartily inclin'd to both. Come, give us both respects,

       And cease contention; draw no sword; use words, and such as may

       Be bitter to his pride, but just; for, trust in what I say,

       A time shall come, when, thrice the worth of that he forceth now,

       He shall propose for recompense of these wrongs; therefore throw

       Reins on thy passions, and serve us." He answer'd "Though my heart

       Burn in just anger, yet my soul must conquer th' angry part,

       And yield you conquest. Who subdues his earthly part for heav'n,

       Heav'n to his pray'rs subdues his wish." This said, her charge was

       given

       Fit honour; in his silver hilt he held his able hand,

       And forc'd his broad sword up; and up to heav'n did re-ascend

       Minerva, who, in Jove's high roof that bears the rough shield, took

       Her place with other deities. She gone, again forsook

       Patience his passion, and no more his silence could confine

       His wrath, that this broad language gave: "Thou ever steep'd in

       wine,

       Dog's face, with heart but of a hart, that nor in th' open eye

       Of fight dar'st thrust into a prease, nor with our noblest lie

       In secret ambush! These works seem too full of death for thee;

       'Tis safer far in the open host to dare an injury

       To any crosser of thy lust. Thou subject-eating king!

       Base spirits thou govern'st, or this wrong had been the last foul

       thing

       Thou ever author'dst; yet I vow, and by a great oath swear,

       Ev'n by this sceptre, that, as this never again shall bear [2]

       Green leaves or branches, nor increase with any growth his size,

       Nor did since first it left the hills, and had his faculties

       And ornaments bereft with iron; which now to other end

       Judges of Greece bear, and their' laws, receiv'd from Jove, defend;

       (For which my oath to thee is great); so, whensoever need

       Shall burn with thirst of me thy host, no pray'rs shall ever breed

       Affection in me to their aid, though well-deserved woes

       Afflict thee for them, when to death man-slaught'ring Hector throws

       Whole troops of them, and thou torment'st thy vex'd mind with

       conceit

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