For better far is gentle courtesy: And cease from angry strife, that so the Greeks The more may honour thee, both young and old.’ Such were the words thine aged father spoke, Which thou hast now forgotten; yet, e’en now, Pause for awhile, and let thine anger cool; And noble gifts, so thou thy wrath remit, From Agamemnon shalt thou bear away. Listen to me, while I recount the gifts Which in his tent he pledg’d him to bestow. Sev’n tripods promis’d he, untouch’d by fire, Of gold, ten talents, twenty caldrons bright, Twelve pow’rful horses, in the course renown’d. Who by their speed have many prizes won. Not empty-handed could that man be deem’d, Nor poor in gold, who but so much possess’d As by those horses has for him been won. Sev’n women too, well skill’d in household cares, Lesbians, whom he selected for himself, That day thou captur’dst Lesbos’ goodly isle, In beauty far surpassing all their sex. These will he give; and with them will he send The fair Briseis, her whom from thy tent He bore away; and add a solemn oath, He ne’er approach’d her bed, nor held with her Such intercourse as man with woman holds. All these shall now be thine: but if the Gods Shall grant us Priam’s city to destroy, Of gold and brass, when we divide the spoil, With countless heaps a vessel shalt thou freight, And twenty captives thou thyself shalt choose, All only less than Argive Helen fair. And if it be our fate to see again The teeming soil of Argos, thou mayst be His son by marriage, and in honour held As is Orestes, who, his only son, Is rear’d at home in luxury, and ease. Three daughters fair are his, Chrysothemis, Iphianassa, and Laodice; Of these whiche’er thou wilt, to Peleus’ house, No portion ask’d for, thou shalt take to wife; And with her will he add such wedding gifts, As never man before to daughter gave. Sev’n prosp’rous towns besides; Cardamyle, And Enope, and Ira’s grassy plains, And Pherae, and Antheia’s pastures deep, Æpeia fair, and vine-clad Pedasus; All by the sea, by sandy Pylos’ bounds. The dwellers there in flocks and herds are rich, And, as a God, will honour thee with gifts, And to thy sceptre ample tribute pay. All these he gives, so thou thy wrath remit. But if thou hold Atrides in such hate, Him and his gifts, yet let thy pity rest On all the other Greeks, thus sore bested; By whom thou shalt be honour’d as a God: For great the triumph that thou now mayst gain; E’en Hector’s self is now within thy reach; For he is near at hand; and in his pride And martial fury deems that none, of all Our ships contain, can rival him in arms.”