Apart, and sent an arrow.  Clang’d the cord
[8]Dread-sounding, bounding on the silver bow.[9] 60
Mules first and dogs he struck,[10] but at themselves
Dispatching soon his bitter arrows keen,
Smote them.  Death-piles on all sides always blazed. 
Nine days throughout the camp his arrows flew;
The tenth, Achilles from all parts convened 65
The host in council.  Juno the white-armed
Moved at the sight of Grecians all around
Dying, imparted to his mind the thought.[11]
The full assembly, therefore, now convened,
Uprose Achilles ardent, and began. 70
Atrides!  Now, it seems, no course remains
For us, but that the seas roaming again,
We hence return; at least if we survive;
But haste, consult we quick some prophet here
Or priest, or even interpreter of dreams, 75
(For dreams are also of Jove,) that we may learn
By what crime we have thus incensed Apollo,
What broken vow, what hecatomb unpaid
He charges on us, and if soothed with steam
Of lambs or goats unblemish’d, he may yet 80
Be won to spare us, and avert the plague. 
He spake and sat, when Thestor’s son arose
Calchas, an augur foremost in his art,
Who all things, present, past, and future knew,
And whom his skill in prophecy, a gift 85
Conferred by Phoebus on him, had advanced
To be conductor of the fleet to Troy;
He, prudent, them admonishing, replied.[12]
Jove-loved Achilles!  Wouldst thou learn from me
What cause hath moved Apollo to this wrath, 90
The shaft-arm’d King?  I shall divulge the cause. 
But thou, swear first and covenant on thy part
That speaking, acting, thou wilt stand prepared
To give me succor; for I judge amiss,
Or he who rules the Argives, the supreme 95
O’er all Achaia’s host, will be incensed. 
Wo to the man who shall provoke the King
For if, to-day, he smother close his wrath,
He harbors still the vengeance, and in time
Performs it.  Answer, therefore, wilt thou save me? 100
To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift. 
What thou hast learn’d in secret from the God
That speak, and boldly.  By the son of Jove,
Apollo, whom thou, Calchas, seek’st in prayer
Made for the Danai, and who thy soul 105
Fills with futurity, in all the host
The Grecian lives not, who while I shall breathe,
And see the light of day, shall in this camp
Oppress thee; no, not even if thou name
Him, Agamemnon, sovereign o’er us all. 110
Then was the seer embolden’d, and he spake. 
Nor vow nor hecatomb unpaid on us
He charges, but the wrong done to his priest
Whom Agamemnon slighted when he sought
His daughter’s freedom, and his gifts refused. 115