“Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars, Saturnian Jove hath in an evil net Entangled me most cruelly. He gave His promise and his nod, that, having razed Troy with her strong defences, I should see My home again; but now he meditates To wrong me, and commands me to return, With lessened glory and much people lost, To Argos. Thus hath it seemed good to Jove The mighty, who hath overthrown the towers Of many a city, and will yet o’erthrow. The ages yet to come will hear with shame That such a mighty army of the Greeks Have waged a fruitless war, and fought in vain A foe less numerous; yet no end appears To this long strife. Should Greeks and Trojans make A treaty, faithfully to number each, And should the Trojans count their citizens, And we the Greeks, disposed in rows of tens, Should call the Trojans singly to pour out The wine for us, full many a company Of ten would lack its cup-bearer; so far, I judge, the sons of Greece outnumber those Who dwell in Troy. But they have yet allies