his train; See what pre-eminence our merits gain! My spoil alone his greedy soul delights: My spouse alone must bless his lustful nights: The woman, let him (as he may) enjoy; But what's the quarrel, then, of Greece to Troy? What to these shores the assembled nations draws, What calls for vengeance but a woman's cause? Are fair endowments and a beauteous face Beloved by none but those of Atreus' race? The wife whom choice and passion doth approve, Sure every wise and worthy man will love. Nor did my fair one less distinction claim; Slave as she was, my soul adored the dame. Wrong'd in my love, all proffers I disdain; Deceived for once, I trust not kings again. Ye have my answer--what remains to do, Your king, Ulysses, may consult with you. What needs he the defence this arm can make? Has he not walls no human force can shake? Has he not fenced his guarded navy round With piles, with ramparts, and a trench profound? And will not these (the wonders he has done) Repel the rage of Priam's single son? There was a time ('twas when for Greece I fought) When Hector's prowess no such wonders wrought; He kept the verge of Troy, nor dared to wait Achilles' fury at the Scaean gate; He tried it once, and scarce was saved by fate. But now those ancient enmities are o'er; To-morrow we the favouring gods implore; Then shall you see our parting vessels crown'd, And hear with oars the Hellespont resound. The third day hence shall Pthia greet our sails,(208) If mighty Neptune send propitious gales; Pthia to her Achilles shall restore The wealth he left for this detested shore: Thither the spoils of this long war shall pass, The ruddy gold, the steel, and shining brass: My beauteous captives thither I'll convey, And all that rests of my unravish'd prey. One only valued gift your tyrant gave, And that resumed--the fair Lyrnessian slave. Then tell him: loud, that all the Greeks may hear, And learn to