He said, and call’d on noble Nestor’s sons, On Meges, Phyleus’ son, Meriones, Thoas, and Lycomedes, Creon’s son, And Melanippus; they together sought The mighty monarch Agamemnon’s tent. Soon as the word was giv’n, the work was done; Sev’n tripods brought they out, the promis’d gifts; Twelve horses, twenty caldrons glitt’ring bright; Sev’n women too, well skill’d in household cares, With whom, the eighth, the fair Briseis came. Ulysses led the way, and with him brought Ten talents full of gold; th’ attendant youths The other presents bore, and in the midst Display’d before th’ assembly: then uprose The monarch Agamemnon; by his side, With voice of godlike pow’r, Talthybius stood, Holding the victim: then Atrides drew The dagger, ever hanging at his side, Close by the scabbard of his mighty sword, And from the victim’s head the bristles shore. With hands uplifted then to Jove he pray’d; While all around the Greeks in silence stood, List’ning, decorous, to the monarch’s words, As looking up to Heav’n he made his pray’r: “Be witness, Jove, thou highest, first of Gods, And Sun, and Earth, and ye who vengeance wreak Beneath the earth on souls of men forsworn, Furies! that never, or to love unchaste Soliciting, or otherwise, my hand Hath fair Briseis touch’d; but in my tent Still pure and undefil’d hath she remain’d: And if in this I be forsworn, may Heav’n With all the plagues afflict me, due to those Who sin by perjur’d oaths against the Gods.” Thus as he spoke, across the victim’s throat He drew the pitiless blade; Talthybius then To hoary Ocean’s depths the carcase threw, Food for the fishes; then Achilles rose, And thus before th’ assembled Greeks he spoke: “O Father Jove, how dost thou lead astray Our human judgments! ne’er had Atreus’ son My bosom fill’d with wrath, nor from my arms, To his own loss, against my will had torn The girl I lov’d, but that the will of Jove To death predestin’d many a valiant Greek. Now to the meal; anon renew the war.” This said, th’ assembly he dismiss’d in haste, The crowd dispersing to their sev’ral ships; Upon the gifts the warlike Myrmidons Bestow’d their care, and bore them to the ships; Of Peleus’ godlike son; within the tent They laid them down, and there the women plac’d, While to the drove the followers led the steeds. Briseis, fair as golden Venus, saw Patroclus lying, pierc’d with mortal wounds, Within the tent; and with a bitter cry, She flung her down upon the corpse, and tore Her breast, her delicate neck, and beauteous cheeks; And, weeping, thus the lovely woman wail’d: