“My child, why weepest thou? What grief is this? Speak, and hide nothing, so that both may know.”
Achilles, swift of foot, sighed heavily, And said: “Thou know’st already. Why relate These things to thee, who art apprised of all?
“To Thebé, to Eëtion’s sacred town, We marched, and plundered it, and hither brought The booty, which was fairly shared among The sons of Greece, and Agamemnon took The fair-cheeked maid Chryseis as his prize. But Chryses, priest of Phoebus, to the fleet Of the Achaian warriors, brazen-mailed, Came, to redeem his daughter, offering Ransom uncounted. In his hand he bore The fillets of Apollo, archer-god, Upon the golden sceptre, and he sued To all the Greeks, but chiefly to the sons Of Atreus, the two leaders of the host. Then all the other chiefs, 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. The aged man indignantly withdrew; And Phoebus—for the priest was dear to him— Granted his prayer and sent among the Greeks A deadly shaft. The people of the camp Were perishing in heaps. His arrows flew Among the Grecian army, far and wide. A seer expert in oracles revealed The will of Phoebus, and I was the first To counsel that the god should be appeased. But Agamemnon rose in sudden wrath, Uttering a threat, which he has since fulfilled. And now the dark-eyed Greeks are taking back His child to Chryses, and with her they bear Gifts to the monarch-god; while to my tent Heralds have come, and borne away the maid Briseis, given me by the sons of Greece. But succor thou thy son, if thou hast power; Ascend to heaven and bring thy prayer to Jove, If e’er by word or act thou gav’st him aid. For I remember, in my father’s halls I often heard thee, glorying, tell how thou, Alone of all the gods, didst interpose To save the