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Worth our entreaty, being chief check to all our ill in war."

       "All this, good father," said the king, "is comely and good right;

       But this man breaks all such bounds; he affects, past all men,

       height;

       All would in his pow'r hold, all make his subjects, give to all

       His hot will for their temp'rate law; all which he never shall

       Persuade at my hands. If the gods have giv'n him the great style

       Of ablest soldier, made they that his licence to revile

       Men with vile language?" Thetis' son prevented him, and said:

       "Fearful and vile I might be thought, if the exactions laid

       By all means on me I should bear. Others command to this,

       Thou shalt not me; or if thou dost, far my free spirit is

       From serving thy command. Beside, this I affirm (afford

       Impression of it in thy soul): will not use my sword

       On thee or any for a wench, unjustly though thou tak'st

       The thing thou gav'st; but all things else, that in my ship thou

       mak'st

       Greedy survey of, do not touch without my leave; or do—

       Add that act's wrong to this, that these may see that outrage

       too—

       And then comes my part; then be sure, thy blood upon my lance

       Shall flow in vengeance." These high terms these two at variance

       Us'd to each other; left their seats; and after them arose

       The whole court. To his tents and ships, with friends and soldiers,

       goes

       Angry Achilles. Atreus' son the swift ship launch'd, and put

       Within it twenty chosen row'rs, within it likewise shut

       The hecatomb t' appease the God; then caus'd to come aboard

       Fair-cheek'd Chryseis; for the chief, he in whom Pallas pour'd

       Her store of counsels, Ithacus, aboard went last; and then

       The moist ways of the sea they sail'd. And now the king of men

       Bade all the host to sacrifice. They sacrific'd, and cast

       The offal of all to the deeps; the angry God they grac'd

       With perfect hecatombs; some bulls, some goats, along the shore

       Of the unfruitful sea, inflam'd. To heav'n the thick fumes bore

       Enwrapped savours. Thus, though all the politic king made shew

       Respects to heav'n, yet he himself all that time did pursue

       His own affections; the late jar, in which he thunder'd threats

       Against Achilles, still he fed, and his affections' heats

       Thus vented to Talthybius, and grave Eurybates,

       Heralds, and ministers of trust, to all his messages.

       "Haste to Achilles' tent; where take Briseis' hand, and bring

       Her beauties to us. If he fail to yield her, say your king

       Will come himself, with multitudes that shall the horribler

       Make both his presence, and your charge, that so he dares defer."

       This said, he sent them with a charge of hard condition.

       They went unwillingly, and trod the fruitless sea's shore; soon

       They reach'd the navy and the tents, in which the quarter lay

       Of all the Myrmidons, and found the chief Chief in their sway

       Set at his black bark in his tent. Nor was Achilles glad

       To see their presence; nor themselves in any glory had

       Their message, but with rev'rence stocd, and fear'd th' offended

       king,

       Ask'd not the dame, nor spake a word. He yet, well knowing the

       thing

       That caus'd their coming, grac'd them thus: "Heralds, ye men that

       bear

       The messages of men and gods, y' are welcome, come ye near.

       I nothing blame you, but your king; 'tis he I know doth send

       You for Briseis; she is his. Patroclus, honour'd friend,

       Bring forth the damsel, and these men let lead her to their lord.

       But, heralds, be you witnesses, before the most ador'd,

       Before us mortals, and before your most ungentle king,

       Of what I suffer, that, if war ever hereafter bring

       My aid in question, to avert any severest bane

       It brings on others, I am 'scus'd to keep mine aid in wane,

       Since they mine honour. But your king, in tempting mischief, raves,

       Nor sees at once by present things the future; how like waves

       Ills follow ills; injustices being never so secure

       In present times, but after-plagues ev'n then are seen as sure;

       Which yet he sees not, and so soothes his present lust, which,

       check'd,

       Would check plagues future; and he might, in succouring right,

       protect

       Such as fight for his right at fleet. They still in safety fight,

       That fight still justly." This speech us'd, Patroclus did the rite

       His friend commanded, and brought forth Briseis from her tent,

       Gave her the heralds, and away to th' Achive ships they went.

       She sad, and scarce for grief could go. Her love all friends

       forsook,

       And wept for anger. To the shore of th' old sea he betook

       Himself alone, and casting forth upon the purple sea

       His wet eyes, and his hands to heav'n advancing, this sad plea

       Made to his mother; "Mother! Since you brought me forth to breathe

       So short a life, Olympius had good right to bequeath

       My short life honour; yet that right he doth in no degree,

       But lets Atrides do me shame, and force that prise from me

       That all the Greeks gave." This with tears he utter'd, and she

       heard,

       Set with her old sire in his deeps, and instantly appear'd

       Up from the grey sea like a cloud, sate by his side, and said:

       "Why weeps my son? What grieves thee?

       Speak, conceal not what hath laid

       Such hard hand on thee, let both know." He, sighing like a storm,

       Replied: "Thou dost know. Why should I things known again inform?

       We march'd to Thebes, the sacred town of king Eëtion,

       Sack'd it, and brought to fleet the spoil, which every valiant son

       Of Greece indifferently shar'd. Atrides had for share

       Fair-cheek'd Chryseis. After which, his priest that shoots so far,

       Chryses, the fair Chryseis' sire, arriv'd at th' Achive fleet,

       With infinite ransom, to redeem the dear imprison'd feet

       Of his fair daughter. In his hands he held Apollo's crown,

       And golden sceptre; making suit to ev'ry Grecian son,

      

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