Then all the other Greeks, applauding, bade Revere the priest and take the liberal gifts He offered, but the counsel did not please Atrides Agamemnon; he dismissed The priest with scorn, and added threatening words:—
“Old man, let me not find thee loitering here, Beside the roomy ships, or coming back Hereafter, lest the fillet thou dost bear And sceptre of thy god protect thee not. This maiden I release not till old age Shall overtake her in my Argive home, Far from her native country, where her hand Shall throw the shuttle and shall dress my couch. Go, chafe me not, if thou wouldst safely go.”
He spake; the aged man in fear obeyed The mandate, and in silence walked apart, Along the many-sounding ocean-side, And fervently he prayed the monarch-god, Apollo, golden-haired Latona’s son:—
“Hear me, thou bearer of the silver bow, Who guardest Chrysa, and the holy isle Of Cilia, and art lord in Tenedos, O Smintheus! If I ever helped to deck Thy glorious temple, if I ever burned Upon thy altar the fat thighs of goats And bullocks, grant my prayer, and let thy shafts Avenge upon the Greeks the tears I shed.”
So spake he supplicating, and to him Phoebus Apollo hearkened. Down he came, Down from the summit of the Olympian mount, Wrathful in heart; his shoulders bore the bow And hollow quiver; there the arrows rang Upon the shoulders of the angry god, As on he moved. He came as comes the night, And, seated from the ships aloof, sent forth An arrow; terrible was heard the clang Of that resplendent bow. At first he smote The mules and the swift dogs, and then on man He turned the deadly arrow. All around Glared evermore the frequent funeral piles. Nine days already had his shafts been showered Among the host, and now, upon the tenth, Achilles called the people of the camp To council. Juno, of the snow-white arms, Had moved his mind to this, for she beheld With