“Ye Trojans, and ye well-armed Greeks, give ear To what my spirit bids me speak. The son Of Saturn, throned on high, hath not vouchsafed To ratify the treaty we have made, But meditates new miseries for us both, Till ye possess the towery city of Troy, Or, vanquished, yield yourselves beside the barques That brought you o’er the sea. With you are found The bravest sons of Greece. If one of these Is moved to encounter me, let him stand forth And fight with noble Hector. I propose, And call on Jove to witness, that if he Shall slay me with the long blade of his spear, My arms are his to spoil and to bestow Among the hollow ships; but he must send My body home, that there the sons of Troy And Trojan dames may burn it on the pyre. But if I take his life, and Phoebus crown My combat with that glory, I will strip His armor off and carry it away To hallowed Ilium, there to hang it high Within the temple of the archer-god Apollo; but his body I will send Back to the well-oared ships, that on the beach