“Achilles, I shall deem it grave offence If thou fulfil thy word; for thou wilt take My prize, because thou seest that this man’s car And his fleet steeds have suffered injury, Though he be skilful. Yet he should have prayed To the good gods; then had he not been seen Bringing his steeds the last. But if thou feel Compassion for him, and if so thou please, Large store of brass and gold is in thy tent, And thine are cattle, and handmaidens thine, And firm-paced steeds; hereafter give of these A nobler largess, or bestow it now, And hear the Greeks applaud thee. But this prize I yield not; let the warrior who may claim To take it try with me his strength of arm.”