Book I - O tyrant, armed with insolence and pride

At this Pelides, frowning stern, replied:

"O tyrant, armed with insolence and pride,

Inglorious slave to interest, ever joined

With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind!

What generous Greek, obedient to thy word,

Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword?

What cause have I to war at thy decree?

The distant Trojans never injured me:

To Phthia's realms no hostile troops they led;

Safe to her vales my warlike coursers fed;

Far hence removed, the hoarse-resounding main,

And walls of rocks, secure my native reign,

Whose fruitful soil luxuriant harvests grace,

Rich in her fruits and in her martial race.

Hither we sailed, a voluntary throng,

To avenge a private, not a public wrong:

What else to Troy the assembled nations draws,

But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother's cause? [...]