Greeks.
Ah boasters! henceforth women--men no more--
Eternal shame, shame infinite is ours,
If none of all the Grecians dares contend 110
With Hector. Dastards--deaf to glory's call--
Rot where ye sit! I will myself take arms
Against him, for the gods alone dispose,
At their own pleasure, the events of war.
He ended, and put on his radiant arms. 115
Then, Menelaus, manifest appear'd
Thy death approaching by the dreadful hands
Of Hector, mightier far in arms than thou,
But that the Chiefs of the Achaians all
Upstarting stay'd thee, and himself the King, 120
The son of Atreus, on thy better hand
Seizing affectionate, thee thus address'd.
Thou ravest, my royal brother! and art seized
With needless frenzy. But, however chafed,
Restrain thy wrath, nor covet to contend 125
With Priameian Hector, whom in fight
All dread, a warrior thy superior far.
Not even Achilles, in the glorious field
(Though stronger far than thou) this hero meets
Undaunted. Go then, and thy seat resume 130
In thy own band; the Achaians shall for him,
Doubtless, some fitter champion furnish forth.
Brave though he be, and with the toils of war
Insatiable, he shall be willing yet,
Seated on his bent knees, to breathe a while, 135
Should he escape the arduous brunt severe.
So saying, the hero by his counsel wise
His brother's purpose alter'd; he complied,
And his glad servants eased him of his arms.
Then Nestor thus the Argive host bespake. 140
Great wo, ye Gods! hath on Achaia fallen.
Now may the warlike Pelaus, hoary Chief,
Who both with eloquence and wisdom rules
The Myrmidons, our foul disgrace deplore.
With him discoursing, erst, of ancient times, 145
When all your pedigrees I traced, I made
His heart bound in him at the proud report.
But now, when he shall learn how here we sat
Cowering at the foot of Hector, he shall oft
His hands uplift to the immortal Gods, 150
Praying a swift release into the shades.
Jove! Pallas! Phoebus! Oh that I were young
As when the Pylians in fierce fight engaged
The Arcadians spear-expert, beside the stream
Of rapid Celadon! Beneath the walls 155
We fought of Pheia, where the Jardan rolls.
There