Atrides, deeply grieving, walked the camp, And bade the clear-voiced heralds call by name To council all the chiefs, but not aloud. The king himself among the foremost gave The summons. Sadly that assembly took Their seats; and Agamemnon in the midst Rose, shedding tears⁠—as down a lofty rock, Darkening its face, a fountain’s waters flow⁠— And, deeply sighing, thus addressed the Greeks:⁠—