A
angellous_evangellous
Guest
Interesting how war never changes:
Homer, Illiad 1.130 (Achilles, the soldier, says this to Agamemnon, his king)
Glaring from beneath his brows spoke to him swift-footed Achilles: Ah me, clothed in shamelessness, thinking of profit, how shall any man of the Achaeans obey your words with a ready heart [150] either to go on a journey or to fight against men with force?
It was not on account of the Trojan spearmen that I came here to fight, since they have done no wrong to me. Never have they driven off my cattle or my horses, nor ever in deep-soiled Phthia, nurse of men, [155] did they lay waste the harvest, for many things lie between us--shadowy mountains and sounding sea. But you, shameless one, we followed, so that you might rejoice, seeking to win recompense for Menelaus and for yourself, dog-face, from the Trojans. This you disregard, and take no heed of. [160]
And now you threaten that you will yourself take my prize away from me, for which I toiled so much, which the sons of the Achaeans gave to me. Never have I prize like yours, whenever the Achaeans sack a well-inhabited citadel of the Trojans. The brunt of furious battle [165] do my hands undertake, but if ever an apportionment comes, your prize is far greater, while small but dear is the reward I take to my ships, when I have worn myself out in the fighting. Now I will go back to Phthia, since it is far better to return home with my beaked ships, nor do I intend [170] while I am here dishonoured to pile up riches and wealth for you.
Homer, Illiad 1.130 (Achilles, the soldier, says this to Agamemnon, his king)
Glaring from beneath his brows spoke to him swift-footed Achilles: Ah me, clothed in shamelessness, thinking of profit, how shall any man of the Achaeans obey your words with a ready heart [150] either to go on a journey or to fight against men with force?
It was not on account of the Trojan spearmen that I came here to fight, since they have done no wrong to me. Never have they driven off my cattle or my horses, nor ever in deep-soiled Phthia, nurse of men, [155] did they lay waste the harvest, for many things lie between us--shadowy mountains and sounding sea. But you, shameless one, we followed, so that you might rejoice, seeking to win recompense for Menelaus and for yourself, dog-face, from the Trojans. This you disregard, and take no heed of. [160]
And now you threaten that you will yourself take my prize away from me, for which I toiled so much, which the sons of the Achaeans gave to me. Never have I prize like yours, whenever the Achaeans sack a well-inhabited citadel of the Trojans. The brunt of furious battle [165] do my hands undertake, but if ever an apportionment comes, your prize is far greater, while small but dear is the reward I take to my ships, when I have worn myself out in the fighting. Now I will go back to Phthia, since it is far better to return home with my beaked ships, nor do I intend [170] while I am here dishonoured to pile up riches and wealth for you.
