So railed he long and loud: the mighty heart Of Peleus' son leapt into flame of wrath. A sudden buffet of his resistless hand Smote 'neath the railer's ear, and all his teeth Were dashed to the earth: he fell upon his face: Forth of his lips the blood in torrent gushed: Swift from his body fled the dastard soul Of that vile niddering. Achaea's sons Rejoiced thereat, for aye he wont to rail On each and all with venomous gibes, himself A scandal and the shame of all the host. Then mid the warrior Argives cried a voice: "Not good it is for baser men to rail On kings, or secretly or openly; For wrathful retribution swiftly comes. The Lady of Justice sits on high; and she Who heapeth woe on woe on humankind, Even Ate, punisheth the shameless tongue." So mid the Danaans cried a voice: nor yet Within the mighty soul of Peleus' son Lulled was the storm of wrath, but fiercely he spake: "Lie there in dust, thy follies all forgot! 'Tis not for knaves to beard their betters: once Thou didst provoke Odysseus' steadfast soul, Babbling with venomous tongue a thousand gibes, And didst escape with life; but thou hast found The son of Peleus not so patient-souled, Who with one only buffet from his hand Unkennels thy dog's soul! A bitter doom Hath swallowed thee: by thine own rascalry Thy life is sped. Hence from Achaean men, And mouth out thy revilings midst the dead!" So spake the valiant-hearted aweless son Of Aeacus. But Tydeus' son alone Of all the Argives was with anger stirred Against Achilles for Thersites slain, Seeing these twain were of the self-same blood, The one, proud Tydeus' battle-eager son, The other, seed of godlike Agrius: Brother of noble Oeneus Agrius was; And Oeneus in the Danaan land begat Tydeus the battle-eager, son to whom Was stalwart Diomedes. Therefore wroth Was he for slain Thersites, yea, had raised Against the son of Peleus vengeful hands, Except the noblest of Aehaea's sons Had thronged around him, and besought him sore, And held him back therefrom. With Peleus' son Also they pleaded; else those mighty twain, The mightiest of all Argives, were at point To close with clash of swords, so stung were they With bitter wrath; yet hearkened they at last To prayers of comrades, and were reconciled.