Then did Achilles, swift of foot, reply:— “O ancient Phoenix, father, loved of Jove, Such honor need I not; for the decree Of Jove, I deem, already honors me, And will detain me by my beakèd ships While breath is in my lungs, and I have power To move these knees. Yet one thing I would say— And bear it thou in mind—vex not my soul With weeping and lamenting for the sake Of Agamemnon; it becomes thee not— Thou who art loved by me—to yield thy love To him, unless thou wouldst incur my hate. And thou shouldst be the enemy of him Who wrongs me. Reign thou equally with me, And share my honors. These will carry back My answer. Thou remain, and, softly couched, Sleep here: with early morn will we consult Whether to leave this region or remain.”
He spake, and, nodding to Patroclus, gave A signal to prepare an ample couch For Phoenix, while the other chiefs prepared To leave the tent. Then Ajax Telamon, The godlike chief, addressed his comrades thus:—
“Son of Laertes, nobly born, and skilled In sage devices, let us now depart, Since, as it seems, the end for which we came Cannot be compassed thus, and we must bear With speed the unwelcome answer to the Greeks, Who sit expecting us; while in his breast The implacable Achilles bears a fierce And haughty heart, nor doth he heed the claim Of that close friendship of his fellow-chiefs, Which at the Grecian fleet exalted him Above all others. Unrelenting one! Even for a brother’s death a price is paid, Or when a son is slain: the slayer dwells At home among his people, having made The appointed expiation. He to whom The fine is offered takes it, and his thirst Of vengeance is appeased. But in thy heart The gods have kindled an unquenchable rage, All for a single damsel—and behold, Seven more we offer, passing beautiful, With many gifts beside. Let, then, thy mood Be softened: have respect to thine own roof; For we are guests beneath it, sent from all The assembled host, and strong is our desire To be thy dearest and most cherished friends Of all the Achaians, many as they are.”