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32 Else had his love but been as others are.

Would ye be wise, ye Cities, fly from war!

Yet if war come, there is a crown in death

For her that striveth well and perisheth

Unstained: to die in evil were the stain!

Therefore, O Mother, pity not thy slain,

Nor Troy, nor me, the bride. Thy direst foe

And mine by this my wooing is brought low.

I swear, had not Apollo made thee mad,

Not lightly hadst thou flung this shower of bad

Bodings, to speed my General o'er the seas!

'Fore God, the wisdoms and the greatnesses

Of seeming, are they hollow all, as things

Of naught? This son of Atreus, of all kings

Most mighty, hath so bowed him to the love

Of this mad maid, and chooseth her above

All women! By the Gods, rude though I be,

I would not touch her hand!

Look thou; I see

Thy lips are blind, and whatso words they speak,

Praises of Troy or shamings of the Greek,

I cast to the four winds! Walk at my side

In peace! And heaven content him of his bride!

And thou shalt follow to Odysseus' host

When the word comes. 'Tis a wise queen thou go'st

To serve, and gentle: so the Ithacans say.