,
to whom she is nowise inferior, neither in favor nor stature nor wit nor
skill. Yet if she be taken away from him for the good of the people, he
demands another prize forthwith, that alone of the Greeks he may not be
without reward. Then is the valiant Achilles enraged at the covetousness
of his chief, and a violent quarrel ensues. At last, Agamemnon asserts
that he will send back Chryseis, but he will come and take in return
Achilles's meed of honor, Briseis of the fair cheeks, that Achilles may
know how far the mightier is he and that no other may hereafter dare to
rival him to his face.

Then is the son of Peleus the more enraged, and, had not the goddess
Athena appeared and restrained his wrath, he would have assailed
Agamemnon on the spot. However, he speaks again with bitter words and
declares that hereafter longing for Achilles will come upon the Achaeans
one and all; for no more will he fight with the Greeks against the
Trojans. So the assembly breaks up, after this battle of violent words
between the twain. Achilles returns to his huts and trim ships, with
Patroclus and his company; and Agamemnon sends forth Odysseus and others
on a fleet ship to bear back to her father the lovely Chryseis, and to
offer a hecatomb to Apollo. Thus Chryseis is restored to her father's
arms, and appears no more in the story.

But Atrides ceases not from the strife with which he has threatened
Achilles. He summons straightway two heralds, and bids them go to the
tent of Achilles and take Briseis of the fair cheeks by the hand and
lead her to him. Unwillingly they go on their mission, and find the
young warrior sitting sorrowfully beside his hut and black ship. He
knows wherefore they come, and bids his friend Patroclus bring forth the
damsel and give them her to lead away. And Patroclus hearkens to his
dear companion, and leads forth from the hut Briseis of the fair cheeks,
and gives her to the heralds. And the twain take their way back along
the ships of the Achaeans and with them goes the maiden, all unwilling.

In this moment of grief at the loss of the woman he loves, Achilles
bethinks him of his dear mother, the Nereid Thetis, and, stretching
forth his hand toward the sea, he prays to her to hearken to him. His
lady mother hears him as she sits in the sea depths beside her aged
sire, and with speed she arises from the gray sea, and sits down beside
him and strokes him with her hand and inquires the cause of his sorrow.
In