Now all sat down And kept their seats, save one, Thersites. He, A babbler, rattled on, stuffed full of words Disorderly and random, which he flung Against his chiefs, vainly, without a plan Save this, to stir the Argives' laughter. He, The ugliest man that ever looked on Troy, Was bandy-legged and halt, curved in the back, Pigeon-breasted, cone-pated, scanty-cropt With hair. Him of all men Achilles loathed, So did Odysseus, for he railed at them. But now on Agamemnon he let loose His shrill revilings, which the Greeks sore vext Must hear with indignation. Yet on he ran Girding at Agamemnon. 'What d'ye lack, King Atreus' son? What next? Are not your huts Heapt up with bronze, have you not plenty women Pickt out for you, for you first, by us Greeks Whatever town we sack? D'ye need gold too, Such as some Trojan horseman brings to buy His son withal, my prize or another man's? Or need you another girl to keep shut up And take your joy of? Unseemly is the Chief Who brings his Greeks to shame! O shameful fools, O you Greek women, who are men no more, Come, let us ship off home, and leave him here Glutting himself with honour, till he see Whether our help avail him, yes or no -- Him who has put to shame a better man, Achilles, snatching his prize to keep himself. But there! Achilles is mild and lets all go -- Else, son of Atreus, that flout had been your last!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY SONNET: SATIRE 3. ON RELIGION by JOHN DONNE CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE RED SUNSETS, 1883 (2) by MATHILDE BLIND LORD ROBERTS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB SONNET ON MOOR PARK; FORMERLY THE SEAT OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES COUNTRY LASSIE by ROBERT BURNS A STRICTURE ON BISHOP WARBURTON'S DOCTRINE OF GRACE by JOHN BYROM |