410
Of all the Grecian host he hath despoil’d;
My bride, my soul’s delight is in his hands,
And let him, couch’d with her, enjoy his fill
Of dalliance.  What sufficient cause, what need
Have the Achaians to contend with Troy? 415
Why hath Atrides gather’d such a host,
And led them hither?  Was’t not for the sake
Of beauteous Helen?  And of all mankind
Can none be found who love their proper wives
But the Atridae?  There is no good man 420
Who loves not, guards not, and with care provides
For his own wife, and, though in battle won,
I loved the fair Briseis at my heart. 
But having dispossess’d me of my prize
So foully, let him not essay me now, 425
For I am warn’d, and he shall not prevail. 
With thee and with thy peers let him advise,
Ulysses! how the fleet may likeliest ’scape
Yon hostile fires; full many an arduous task
He hath accomplished without aid of mine; 430
So hath he now this rampart and the trench
Which he hath digg’d around it, and with stakes
Planted contiguous—­puny barriers all
To hero-slaughtering Hector’s force opposed. 
While I the battle waged, present myself 435
Among the Achaians, Hector never fought
Far from his walls, but to the Scaean gate
Advancing and the beech-tree, there remain’d. 
Once, on that spot he met me, and my arm
Escaped with difficulty even there. 440
But, since I feel myself not now inclined
To fight with noble Hector, yielding first
To Jove due worship, and to all the Gods,
To-morrow will I launch, and give my ships
Their lading.  Look thou forth at early dawn, 445
And, if such spectacle delight thee aught,
Thou shalt behold me cleaving with my prows
The waves of Hellespont, and all my crews
Of lusty rowers active in their task. 
So shall I reach (if Ocean’s mighty God 450
Prosper my passage) Phthia the deep-soil’d
On the third day.  I have possessions there,
Which hither roaming in an evil hour
I left abundant.  I shall also hence
Convey much treasure, gold and burnish’d brass, 455
And glittering steel, and women passing fair
My portion of the spoils.  But he, your King,
The prize he gave, himself resumed,
And taunted at me.  Tell him my reply,
And tell it him aloud, that other Greeks 460
May indignation feel like me, if arm’d
Always in impudence, he seek to wrong
Them also.  Let him not henceforth presume,
Canine and hard in aspect though he be,
To look me in the face.  I will not share 465
His counsels, neither will I aid his works. 
Let it suffice him, that he wrong’d me once,
Deceived me once, henceforth his glozing arts