With words of welcome such as these I greet thee; May jealous Heaven forgive them! for we bore Full many an evil in the past; and now, Dear husband, leave thy car, nor on the ground, O King, set thou the foot that Ilion trampled. 880 Why linger ye, [_turning to her attendants_,] ye maids, whose task it was To strew the pathway with your tapestries? Let the whole road be straightway purple-strown, That Justice lead to home he looked not for. All else my care, by slumber not subdued, Will with God's help work out what fate decrees.[339] (_The handmaids advance, and are about to lay the purple carpets on the ground_) _Agam._ O child of Leda, guardian of my home, Thy speech hath with my absence well agreed— For long indeed thou mad'st it—but fit praise Is boon that I must seek at other hands. 890 I pray thee, do not in thy woman's fashion Pamper my pride, nor in barbaric guise Prostrate on earth raise full-mouthed cries to me; Make not my path offensive to the Gods By spreading it with carpets.[340] They alone May claim that honour; but for mortal men To walk on fair embroidery, to me Seems nowise without peril. So I bid you To honour me as man, and not as God. Apart from all foot-mats and tapestry My fame speaks loudly; and God's greatest gift 900 Is not to err from wisdom. We must bless Him only who ends life in fair estate.[341] Should I thus act throughout, good hope were mine. _Clytæm._ Nay, say not this my purposes to thwart. _Agam._ Know I change not for the worse my purpose. _Clytæm._ In fear, perchance, thou vowèd'st thus to act. _Agam._ If any, I, with good ground spoke my will.[342] _Clytæm._ What think'st thou Priam, had he wrought such deeds...? _Agam._ Full gladly he, I trow, had trod on carpets. _Clytæm._ Then shrink not thou through fear of men's dispraise.910 _Agam._ And yet a people's whisper hath great might.[343] _Clytæm._ Who is not envied is not enviable. _Agam._ 'Tis not a woman's part to crave for strife. _Clytæm._ True, yet the prosperous e'en should sometimes yield. _Agam._ Dost thou then prize that victory in the strife? _Clytæm._ Nay, list; with all good-will yield me this boon.