“Hector, thou almost ever chidest me In council, even when I judge aright. I know it ill becomes the citizen To speak against the way that pleases thee, In war or council⁠—he should rather seek To strengthen thy authority; yet now I will declare what seems to me the best: Let us not combat with the Greeks, to take Their fleet; for this, I think, will be the end, If now the omen we have seen be meant For us of Troy who seek to cross the trench; This eagle, flying high upon the left, Between the hosts, that in his talons bore A monstrous serpent, bleeding, yet alive, Hath dropped it mid our host before he came To his dear nest, nor brought it to his brood; So we, although by force we break the gates And rampart, and although the Greeks fall back, Shall not as happily retrace our way; For many a Trojan shall we leave behind, Slain by the weapons of the Greeks, who stand And fight to save their fleet. Thus will the seer, Skilled in the lore of prodigies, explain The portent, and the people will obey.”