Achilles answer’d: “All thou know’st speak, and be confident; For by Apollo, Jove’s belov’d, (to whom performing vows, O Calchas, for the state of Greece, thy spirit prophetic shows Skills that direct us) not a man of all these Grecians here, I living, and enjoy’ng the light shot through this flow’ry sphere, Shall touch thee with offensive hands; though Agamemnon be The man in question, that doth boast the mightiest empery Of all our army.” Then took heart the prophet unreprov’d, And said: “They are not unpaid vows, nor hecatombs, that mov’d The God against us; his offence is for his priest impair’d By Agamemnon, that refus’d the present he preferr’d, And kept his daughter. This is cause why heav’n’s Far-darter darts These plagues amongst us; and this still will empty in our hearts His deathful quiver, uncontain’d till to her lovéd sire The black-eyed damsel be resign’d; no rédemptory hire Took for her freedom,-not a gift, but all the ransom quit, And she convey’d, with sacrifice, till her enfranchis’d feet Tread Chrysa under; then the God, so pleas’d, perhaps we may Move to remission.” Thus, he sate; and up, the great in sway, Heroic Agamemnon rose, eagérly bearing all; His mind’s seat overcast with fumes; an anger general Fill’d all his faculties; his eyes sparkled like kindling fire, Which sternly cast upon the priest, thus vented he his ire: “Prophet of ill! for never good came from thee towards me Not to a word’s worth; evermore thou took’st delight to be Offensive in thy auguries, which thou continu’st still, Now casting thy prophetic gall, and vouching all our ill, Shot from Apollo, is impos’d since I refus’d the price Of fair Chryseis’ liberty; which would in no worth rise To my rate of herself, which moves my vows to have her home, Past Clytemnestra loving her, that grac’d my nuptial room With her virginity and flow’r. Nor ask her merits less For person, disposition, wit, and skill in housewif’ries. And yet, for all this, she shall go, if more conducible That course be than her holding here. I rather wish the weal Of my lov’d army than the death. Provide yet instantly Supply for her, that I alone of all our royalty Lose not my winnings. ’Tis not fit. Ye see all I lose mine Forc’d by another, see as well some other may resign His prise to me.” To this replied the swift-foot, god-like, son Of Thetis, thus: “King of us all, in all ambition Most covetous of all that breathe, why should the great-soul’d Greeks Supply thy lost prise out of theirs? Nor what thy av’rice seeks Our common treasury can find; so little it doth guard Of what our ras’d towns yielded us; of all which most is shar’d, And giv’n our soldiers; which again to take into our hands Were ignominious and base. Now then, since God commands, Part with thy most-lov’d prise to him; not any one of us Exacts it of thee, yet we all, all loss thou suffer’st thus, Will treble, quadruple, in gain, when Jupiter bestows The sack of well-wall’d Troy on us; which by his word he owes.”