“Shall then the Grecians fly! O dire disgrace! And leave unpunish’d this perfidious race? Shall Troy, shall Priam, and the adulterous spouse, In peace enjoy the fruits of broken vows? And bravest chiefs, in Helen’s quarrel slain, Lie unrevenged on yon detested plain? No: let my Greeks, unmoved by vain alarms, Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms. Haste, goddess, haste! the flying host detain, Nor let one sail be hoisted on the main.”