nder their hurrying feet.

Quickly did they prepare their ships, and gladly did they make them
ready to sail homeward across the bright salt sea.

Then would the Greeks have returned, even though fate willed it not.
But Hera spoke to Athene.

"Shall we indeed allow the Greeks thus to flee homeward?" she cried.
"Shame it will be to us if Helen is left, in Troy, and Paris goes
unpunished. Haste, then, and with thy gentle words hold back the men
from setting forth in their ships for their own homeland."

Down from the peaks of Olympus darted the bright-eyed Athene, clown to
where the dark ships were being dragged to the launching ways.

By his ship stood Odysseus of the many devices, and heavy of heart was
he.

As one who speaks aloud the thoughts of another, so then to Odysseus
spake the fair goddess who was ever his guide.

"Will ye indeed fling yourselves upon your ships and flee homeward to
your own land?" she said. "Will brave Odysseus leave Helen, for whose
sake so many Greeks have died, to be the boast of the men of Troy?
Hasten, then, and suffer not the Greeks to drag their ships down to
the sea."

At the sound of the voice of Athene, Odysseus cast away his mantle and
ran to meet Agamemnon. From him he received the scepter of
overlordship, and bearing it he went among the ships.

Whenever he saw a chief, he would say to him with gentle words:

"Good sir, it fits thee ill to be a coward. Stay, now, for thou
knowest not what is the will of Agamemnon. He is only making trial of
thee. Hold back then thy people, and anger him not."

But when Odysseus met a common man hasting to the ships, with his
scepter he smote him, saying:

"Sit still, sir, and listen to the words of thy betters. No warrior
art thou, but a weakling. One king only hath Zeus given to us. Hearken
then to the will of Agamemnon!"

Thus did Odysseus rule the people, driving them back from the ships to
where sat Agamemnon.

And the noise they made in returning was as the noise of mighty waves
of the sea, when they crash upon the beach and drive their roaring
echoes far abroad.

Silence came upon them as they sat themselves down before Agamemnon
and their lords. Upon all but one did silence fall. Thersites,
bandy-legged, round-shouldered, lame of one foot, with ugly head
covered with scanty stubble, most ill-favored of all men in the host,
would not hold his peace.

Shrilly he poured his upbraidings upon Agamemnon.

"What lackest thou