Book XVI

Agamemnon, son of Atreus, take Out of my hands, as if I were a wretch, A worthless outcast. But let that affront Be with the things that were. It is not well To bear a grudge forever. I have said My anger should not cease to burn until The clamor of the battle and the assault Should reach the fleet. But go thou and put on My well-known armor; lead into the field My Myrmidons, men that rejoice in war, Since like a lowering cloud the men of Troy Surround the fleet, and the Achaians stand In narrow space close pressed beside the sea, And all the city of Ilium flings itself Against them, confident of victory, Now that the glitter of my helm no more Flashes upon their eyes. Yet very soon Their flying host would fill the trenches here With corpses, had but Agamemnon dealt Gently with me; and now their squadrons close Around our army. Now no more the spear Is wielded by Tydides Diomed In rescue of the Greeks; no more the shout Of Agamemnon’s hated throat is heard; But the man-queller Hector, lifting up His voice, exhorts the Trojans, who, in throngs, Raising the war-cry, fill the plain, and drive The Greeks before them. Gallantly lead on The charge, Patroclus; rescue our good ships; Let not the enemy give them to the flames, And cut us off from our desired return. Follow my counsel; bear my words in mind; So shalt thou win for me among the Greeks Great honor and renown, and they shall bring The beautiful maiden back with princely gifts. When thou hast driven the assailants from the fleet, Return thou hither. If the Thunderer, Husband of Juno, suffer thee to gain That victory, seek no further to prolong The combat with the warlike sons of Troy, Apart from me, lest I be brought to shame, Nor, glorying in the battle and pursuit, Slaying the Trojans as thou goest, lead Thy men to Troy, lest from the Olympian mount One of the ever-living gods descend Against thee: Phoebus loves the Trojans well. But come as soon as thou shalt see the ships In safety; leave the foes upon the plain Contending with each other. Would to Jove The All-Father, and to Pallas, and the god Who bears the bow, Apollo, that of all The Trojans, many as they are, and all The Greeks, not one might be reprieved from death, While thou and I alone were left alive To overthrow the sacred walls of Troy.”