So stands his sovereign pleasure, who hath laid The bulwarks of full many a city low,140 And more shall level, matchless in his might. That such a numerous host of Greeks as we, Warring with fewer than ourselves, should find No fruit of all our toil, (and none appears) Will make us vile with ages yet to come.145 For should we now strike truce, till Greece and Troy Might number each her own, and were the Greeks Distributed in bands, ten Greeks in each, Our banded decads should exceed so far Their units, that all Troy could not supply150 For every ten, a man, to fill us wine; So far the Achaians, in my thought, surpass The native Trojans. But in Troy are those Who baffle much my purpose; aids derived From other states, spear-arm’d auxiliars, firm155 In the defence of Ilium’s lofty towers. Nine years have passed us over, nine long years; Our ships are rotted, and our tackle marr’d, And all our wives and little-ones at home Sit watching our return, while this attempt160 Hangs still in doubt, for which that home we left. Accept ye then my counsel. Fly we swift With all our fleet back to our native land, Hopeless of Troy, not yet to be subdued. So spake the King, whom all the concourse heard165 With minds in tumult toss’d; all, save the few, Partners of his intent. Commotion shook The whole assembly, such as heaves the flood Of the Icarian Deep, when South and East Burst forth together from the clouds of Jove.170 And as when vehement the West-wind falls On standing corn mature, the loaded ears Innumerable bow before the gale, So was the council shaken. With a shout All flew toward the ships; uprais’d, the dust175 Stood o’er them; universal was the cry, “Now clear the passages, strike down the props, Set every vessel free, launch, and away!” Heaven rang with exclamation of the host All homeward bent, and launching glad the fleet.180 Then baffled Fate had the Achaians seen Returning premature, but Juno thus, With admonition quick to Pallas spake. Unconquer’d daughter of Jove Ægis-arm’d! Ah foul dishonor! Is it thus at last185 That the Achaians on the billows borne, Shall seek again their country, leaving here, To be the vaunt of Ilium and her King, Helen of Argos, in whose cause the Greeks Have numerous perish’d from their home remote?190 Haste! Seek the mail-arm’d multitude, by force Detain them of thy soothing speech, ere yet All launch their oary barks into the flood. She spake, nor did Minerva not comply, But darting swift from the Olympian heights,195 Reach’d soon Achaia’s fleet. There, she perceived Prudent as Jove himself, Ulysses; firm He stood; he touch’d not even with his hand His sable bark, for sorrow whelm’d his soul. The Athenæan Goddess azure-eyed200 Beside him stood, and thus the Chief bespake. Laertes’ noble son, for wiles renown’d! Why seek ye, thus precipitate, your ships? Intend ye flight? And is it thus at last, That the Achaians on the billows borne,205 Shall seek again their country, leaving here,