017 Blooming Brisëis, whom if he withhold,Not her alone, but other spoil myself
Will take in person—He shall rue the hour.410
With such harsh message charged he them dismissed
They, sad and slow, beside the barren waste
Of Ocean, to the galleys and the tents
Moved of the Myrmidons. Him there they found
Beneath the shadow of his bark reclined,415
Nor glad at their approach. Trembling they stood,
In presence of the royal Chief, awe-struck,
Nor questioned him or spake. He not the less
Knew well their embassy, and thus began.
Ye heralds, messengers of Gods and men,420
Hail, and draw near! I bid you welcome both.
I blame not you; the fault is his alone
Who sends you to conduct the damsel hence
Brisëis. Go, Patroclus, generous friend!
Lead forth, and to their guidance give the maid.425
But be themselves my witnesses before
The blessed Gods, before mankind, before
The ruthless king, should want of me be felt
To save the host from havoc[25]—Oh, his thoughts Are madness all; intelligence or skill,430 Forecast or retrospect, how best the camp May be secured from inroad, none hath he.
He ended, nor Patroclus disobey'd,
But leading beautiful Brisëis forth
Into their guidance gave her; loth she went435
From whom she loved, and looking oft behind.
Then wept Achilles, and apart from all,
With eyes directed to the gloomy Deep
And arms outstretch'd, his mother suppliant sought.
Since, mother, though ordain'd so soon to die,440
I am thy son, I might with cause expect
Some honor at the Thunderer's hands, but none
To me he shows, whom Agamemnon, Chief
018 Of the Achaians, hath himself disgraced,
Seizing by violence my just reward.445
So prayed he weeping, whom his mother heard
Within the gulfs of Ocean where she sat
Beside her ancient sire. From the gray flood
Ascending sudden, like a mist she came,
Sat down before him, stroked his face, and said.450
Why weeps my son? and what is thy distress?
Hide not a sorrow that I wish to share.
To whom Achilles, sighing deep, replied.
Why tell thee woes to thee already known?
At Thebes, Eëtion's city we arrived,455
Smote, sack'd it, and brought all the spoil away.
Just distribution made among the Greeks,
The son of Atreus for his lot received
Blooming Chrysëis. Her, Apollo's priest
Old Chryses followed to Achaia's camp,460
That he might loose his daughter. Ransom rich
He brought, and in his hands the hallow'd wreath
And golden sceptre of the Archer God
Apollo, bore; to the whole Grecian host,
But chiefly to the foremost in command465
He sued, the sons of Atreus; then, the rest
All recommended reverence of the Seer,
And prompt acceptance of his costly gifts.
But Agamemnon might not so be pleased,
Who gave him rude dismission; he in wrath470
Returning, prayed, whose prayer Apollo heard,
For much he loved him. A pestiferous shaft
He instant shot into the Grecian host,
And heap'd the people died. His arrows swept
The whole wide camp of Greece, 'till at the last475
A Seer, by Phœbus taught, explain'd the cause.
I first advised propitiation. Rage
Fired Agamemnon. Rising, he denounced
Vengeance, and hath fulfilled it. She, in truth,
Is gone to Chrysa, and with her we send480
Propitiation also to the King
019 Shaft-arm'd Apollo. But my beauteous prize
Brisëis, mine by the award of all,
His heralds, at this moment, lead away.
But thou, wherein thou canst, aid thy own son!485
Haste hence to Heaven, and if thy word or deed
Hath ever gratified the heart of Jove,
With earnest suit press him on my behalf.
For I, not seldom, in my father's hall
Have heard thee boasting, how when once the Gods,490
With Juno, Neptune, Pallas at their head,
Conspired to bind the Thunderer, thou didst loose
His bands, O Goddess! calling to his aid
The Hundred-handed warrior, by the Gods
Briareus, but by men, Ægeon named.[26]495 For he in prowess and in might surpassed 020 His father Neptune, who, enthroned sublime, Sits second only to Saturnian Jove, Elate with glory and joy. Him all the Gods Fearing from that bold enterprise abstained.500 Now, therefore, of these things reminding Jove, Embrace his knees; entreat him that he give The host of Troy his succor, and shut fast The routed Grecians, prisoners in the fleet, That all may find much solace[27] in their King,505 And that the mighty sovereign o'er them all, Their Agamemnon,
