Death-piles on all sides always blazed. Nine days throughout the camp his arrows flew; The tenth, Achilles from all parts convened65 The host in council. Juno the white-armed Moved at the sight of Grecians all around Dying, imparted to his mind the thought.[11] The full assembly, therefore, now convened, Uprose Achilles ardent, and began.70 Atrides! Now, it seems, no course remains For us, but that the seas roaming again, We hence return; at least if we survive; But haste, consult we quick some prophet here Or priest, or even interpreter of dreams,75 (For dreams are also of Jove,) that we may learn By what crime we have thus incensed Apollo, What broken vow, what hecatomb unpaid He charges on us, and if soothed with steam Of lambs or goats unblemish’d, he may yet80 Be won to spare us, and avert the plague. He spake and sat, when Thestor’s son arose Calchas, an augur foremost in his art, Who all things, present, past, and future knew, And whom his skill in prophecy, a gift85 Conferred by Phœbus on him, had advanced To be conductor of the fleet to Troy; He, prudent, them admonishing, replied.[12] Jove-loved Achilles! Wouldst thou learn from me What cause hath moved Apollo to this wrath,90 The shaft-arm’d King? I shall divulge the cause. But thou, swear first and covenant on thy part That speaking, acting, thou wilt stand prepared To give me succor; for I judge amiss, Or he who rules the Argives, the supreme95 O’er all Achaia’s host, will be incensed. Wo to the man who shall provoke the King For if, to-day, he smother close his wrath, He harbors still the vengeance, and in time Performs it. Answer, therefore, wilt thou save me?100 To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift. What thou hast learn’d in secret from the God That speak, and boldly. By the son of Jove, Apollo, whom thou, Calchas, seek’st in prayer Made for the Danaï, and who thy soul105 Fills with futurity, in all the host The Grecian lives not, who while I shall breathe, And see the light of day, shall in this camp Oppress thee; no, not even if thou name Him, Agamemnon, sovereign o’er us all.110 Then was the seer embolden’d, and he spake. Nor vow nor hecatomb unpaid on us He charges, but the wrong done to his priest Whom Agamemnon slighted when he sought His daughter’s freedom, and his gifts refused.115 He is the cause. Apollo for his sake Afflicts and will afflict us, neither end Nor intermission of his heavy scourge Granting, till unredeem’d, no price required, The black-eyed maid be to her father sent,120 And a whole hecatomb in Chrysa bleed. Then, not before, the God may be appeased. He spake and sat; when Atreus’ son arose, The Hero Agamemnon, throned supreme. Tempests of black resentment overcharged125 His heart, and indignation fired his eyes. On Calchas lowering, him he first address’d. Prophet of mischief! from whose tongue no note Of grateful sound to me, was ever heard; Ill tidings are thy joy, and tidings glad130 Thou tell’st not, or thy words come not to pass.