Of Agamemnon, he enjoy’d, who here behind remain’d: Which when he took, a few he gave, and many things retain’d, Other to optimates and kings he gave, who hold them fast, Yet mine he forceth; only I sit with my loss disgrac’d. But so he gain a lovely dame, to be his bed’s delight, It is enough; for what cause else do Greeks and Trojans fight? Why brought he hither such an host? Was it not for a dame? For fair-hair’d Helen? And doth love alone the hearts inflame Of the Atrides to their wives, of all the men that move? Ev’ry discreet and honest mind cares for his private love, As much as they; as I myself lov’d Brisis as my life, Although my captive, and had will to take her for my wife. Whom since he forc’d, preventing me, in vain he shall prolong Hopes to appease me that know well the deepness of my wrong. But, good Ulysses, with thyself, and all you other kings, Let him take stomach to repel Troy’s fi’ry threatenings. Much hath he done without my help, built him a goodly fort, Cut a dike by it, pitch’d with pales, broad and of deep import; And cannot all these helps repress this kill-man Hector’s fright? When I was arm’d among the Greeks, he would not offer fight Without the shadow of his walls; but to the Scæan ports, Or to the holy beach of Jove, come back’d with his consorts; Where once he stood my charge alone, and hardly made retreat, And to make new proof of our pow’rs, the doubt is not so great. To-morrow then, with sacrifice perform’d t’ imperial Jove And all the Gods, I’ll launch my fleet, and all my men remove; Which (if thou wilt use so thy sight, or think’st it worth respect) In forehead of the morn, thine eyes shall see, with sails erect Amidst the fishy Hellespont, help’d with laborious oars. And, if the Sea-god send free sail, the fruitful Phthian shores Within three days we shall attain, where I have store of prise Left, when with prejudice I came to these indignities. There have I gold as well as here, and store of ruddy brass, Dames slender, elegantly girt, and steel as bright as glass. These will I take as I retire, as shares I firmly save, Though Agamemnon be so base to take the gifts he gave. Tell him all this, and openly, I on your honours charge, That others may take shame to hear his lusts command so large, And, if there yet remain a man he hopeth to deceive (Being dyed in endless impudence) that man may learn to leave His trust and empire. But alas, though, like a wolf he be, Shameless and rude, he durst not take my prise, and look on me. I never will partake his works, nor counsels, as before, He once deceiv’d and injur’d me, and he shall never more Tye my affections with his words. Enough is the increase Of one success in his deceits; which let him joy in peace, And bear it to a wretched end. Wise Jove hath reft his brain To bring him plagues, and these his gifts I, as my foes, disdain. Ev’n in the numbness of calm death I will revengeful be, Though ten or twenty times so much he would bestow on me,