radventure we then may appease him."
He, having spoke, sat down: and anon, in the midst of the princes,
Rose the heroic Atreides, the wide-sway'd lord, Agamemnon:
Troubled in visage he rose, for the heart with the blackness of anger
Swell'd in the breast of the King, and his eyes had the blaze of the
firebrand.
First to the Seer did he turn, and austere was the scowl when he nam'd
him:
"Prophet of evils! to me never word of thy mouth has been grateful;
Gladness it sheds ever more on thy spirit to prophesy mischief.
Never had good its announcement from thee, its accomplishment never!
Here, then, art thou, with thy sanctified lore, in the leaguer
proclaiming
All the afflictions we bear from the anger of Archer Apollo
Only from this to have sprung, that I gave not the damsel Chryseis
Back for the gifts that were brought:--for I valued her more than the
ransom,
Will'd her to stay in my home, and preferr'd her before Clytemnestra,
Her that I wedded a maid--nor in aught would comparison harm her,
Neither for form nor for face, nor for mind nor the skill of her fingers.
Yet even so am I willing to yield her, if this be the better:
Weal I desire for the people, and not their calamity lengthen'd.
But on the instant make ready a guerdon for me, that of Argives
I be not prizeless alone--methinks that of a truth were unseemly--
All of ye witnessing this, that the prize I obtain'd is to leave me."
Thus to him instantly answer'd the swift-footed noble Peleides:--
"Foremost in fame, Agamemnon, in greediness, too, thou art foremost.
Whence can a prize be assign'd by the generous host of Achaia?
Nowhere known unto us is a treasure of common possessions:
All that we took with a town was distributed right on the capture;
Nor is it seemly for states to resume and collect their allotments.
Render the maid to the God, and expect from the sons of Achaia
Threefold recompense back, yea fourfold, soon as Kronion
Grants us to waste and abolish the well-wall'd city of Troia."
So the Peleides--and thus, in reply, said the King Agamemnon:--
"Good as thou art in the dealings of battle, most noble Achilleus,
Try not the engines of craft; to come over me thus is beyond thee.
This the suggestion forsooth that, thyself being safe with thy booty,
I shall sit down without mine! I am bid to surrender the damsel:
This is the word--and 'tis well, if the generous host