By helps of Gods, this wealthy town, thy ships shall burthen make Of gold and brass at thy desires, when we the spoil divide; And twenty beauteous Trojan dames thou shalt select beside, Next Helen, the most beautiful; and, when return’d we be To Argos, be his son-in-law, for he will honour thee Like his Orestes, his sole son, maintained in height of bliss. Three daughters beautify his court, the fair Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianesse; of all the fairest take To Peleus’ thy grave father’s court, and never jointure make; He will the jointure make himself, so great, as never sire Gave to his daughter’s nuptials. Sev’n cities left entire; Cardamyle, and Enope, and Hira full of flow’rs, Anthæa for sweet meadows prais’d, and Phera deck’d with tow’rs, The bright Epea, Pedasus that doth God Bacchus please; All, on the sandy Pylos’ soil, are seated near the seas; Th’ inhabitants in droves and flocks exceeding wealthy be, Who, like a God, with worthy gifts will gladly honour thee, And tribute of especial rate to thy high sceptre pay. All this he freely will perform, thy anger to allay. But if thy hate to him be more than his gifts may repress, Yet pity all the other Greeks, in such extreme distress, Who with religion honour thee; and to their desp’rate ill Thou shalt triumphant glory bring; and Hector thou may’st kill, When pride makes him encounter thee, fill’d with a baneful sprite, Who vaunts our whole fleet brought not one, equal to him in fight.” Swift-foot Æacides replied: “Divine Laertes’ son, ’Tis requisite I should be short, and show what place hath won Thy serious speech, affirming nought but what you shall approve Establish’d in my settled heart, that in the rest I move No murmur nor exceptión; for, like hell mouth I loath, Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguish’d troth. What fits the freeness of my mind, my speech shall make display’d. Nor Atreus’ son, nor all the Greeks, shall win me to their aid, Their suit is wretchedly enforc’d, to free their own despairs, And my life never shall be hir’d with thankless desp’rate pray’rs; For never had I benefit, that ever foil’d the foe; Ev’n share hath he that keeps his tent, and he to field doth go, With equal honour cowards die, and men most valiant, The much performer, and the man that can of nothing vaunt. No overplus I ever found, when, with my mind’s most strife To do them good, to dang’rous fight I have expos’d my life. But ev’n as to unfeather’d birds the careful dam brings meat, Which when she hath bestow’d, herself hath nothing left to eat; So, when my broken sleeps have drawn the nights t’ extremest length, And ended many bloody days with still-employéd strength, To guard their weakness, and preserve their wives’ contents infract, I have been robb’d before their eyes: Twelve cities I have sack’d Assail’d by sea, elev’n by land, while this siege held at Troy; And of all these, what was most dear, and most might crown the joy