With all its vineyards; all are near the sea, And stand the last before you reach the coast Of sandy Pylos. Rich in flocks and herds Their dwellers are, and they will honor him As if he were a god, and, ruled by him, Will pay large tribute. These will I bestow, Let but his anger cool and his resolve Give way. ’Tis Pluto who is deaf to prayer And ne’er relents, and he, of all the gods, Most hateful is to men. Now let the son Of Peleus yield at length to me, who stand Above him in authority and years.”