In a rage Achilles drew his shining sword from its scabbard to cut down Agamemnon. Suddenly, unseen by all the rest, the goddess Athena stood behind him and whispered to him not to draw his sword against the king, but that he might scold as much as he pleased. “Thy word I must obey, oh goddess,” answered Achilles, “though anger fills my heart. The gods attend those who follow their counsel.” With these words he returned his sword to its scabbard, but turning to Agamemnon he cried: “Thou miserable drunkard, with the look of a dog and the courage of a hare! Never hast thou dared to risk a decisive battle or to lie in ambush with the other nobles; but it is more comfortable to take away his prize from the single man who opposes thee. I swear that thou shalt never again see me raise my arm against the Trojans, though all thy Achaians should perish and thou shouldst beseech me on thy knees to save thee.” Thus he spake, and dashing his sceptre upon the ground, sat down in silence. Agamemnon was preparing to answer this passionate speech when up rose old Nestor, reverenced like a father by everyone for his age, wisdom, and experience. When it was seen that he wished to speak all were quiet. Even Agamemnon bridled his anger, and the well-meaning old man began: “Dear friends, what are you about! What an unhappy fate do ye bring upon us all! How Priam, his sons, and the whole Trojan people will rejoice when they hear that the foremost Achaians are quarrelling. Listen to me, for ye are all much younger than I. However much power the Achaians have given thee, Agamemnon, do not abuse it. Let Achilles keep the prize with which the Achaians have rewarded him. And thou, Achilles, do not defy the king, for never has Jupiter crowned a king with such honor as this one. Though thou art stronger than he and boastest thyself of divine ancestry, he is the more powerful and all the people obey him.” “Truly, honorable father,” answered Agamemnon, “thou hast spoken worthily. But this man is unreasonable; he wishes to be above all others, to rule all, to make laws for all.” Achilles interrupted him. “Indeed I should be a coward did I submit to all thy insults. I will keep the vow I have sworn. One thing I will say—if the Achaians wish the maiden they have given me, they may have her. But woe to thee if thou layest hands upon my other spoils.” Agamemnon insisted on taking the maiden, and he had the power to carry out his threats. Wisdom counselled Achilles to surrender what he was not strong enough to hold. He withdrew from the quarrel with more dignity than his unjust enemy, and his threat of abandoning the war gave him ample satisfaction. The result proved his value. He had thus far been the only one able to vanquish Hector, Priam’s most valiant son; and now that he had withdrawn, it was the Trojans, day after day, who were the victors. It seemed as though a god had doomed the Greeks to destruction.