What is it, sirs? Far off I heard loud words

Of the Atridae o’er the hero’s corpse.

True, lord Odysseus; were we not provoked

By the most shameful taunts from yonder man?

What taunts? For my part I can pardon one

Who when reviled retorts in angry words.

I did abuse him as his acts deserved.

Say by what action gave he just offence?

He vows he will not leave unsepultured

The corpse, but bury it in my despite.

May I be candid with thee as a friend

Without suspicion of my loyalty?

Surely. I am not senseless, and I count

Thee among all the Greeks my chiefest friend.

Then hear me. O for pity’s sake forbear,

Repent, and let not violence and hate

Blind thee to trample justice under foot.

I also counted him my deadliest foe

In all the army, ever since the day