Athena. Know this, the deeds were done by this man's hand.
Odys. To what rash purpose stretched he forth his hand?40
Athena. Vexed sore about the great Achilles' arms.
Odys. But why this raid upon our flocks and herds?
Athena. He thinks it is your blood that stains his hand.
Odys. What? Was his purpose against Argives aimed?
Athena. And he had done it, had I failed to watch.
Odys. Whence came this daring mood, this rashness wild?
Athena. 'Gainst you, by night, alone, with guile he sallies.
Odys. What? Did he come, and reach his destined spot?
Athena. Yea, at the gates of the two chiefs he stood.
Odys. And what restrained the hand that craved for blood?50
Athena. I held him back from that accursed joy,
Casting strange glamour o'er his wandering eyes,
And turned him on the flocks, and where with them
The herds of captured oxen press in crowds,
Not yet divided. And on these he falls,
And wrought fell slaughter of the horned kine,
Smiting all round; and now it seemed to him
That he did slay the Atreidæ with his hand,
Now this, now that, of other generals.
And I still urged the wild and moon-struck man
With fresh access of madness, and I cast
An evil net around him. After this,60
When he had ceased that slaughter, binding fast
The oxen that still lived, and all the flocks,
He leads them to his dwelling, counting them
No troop of horned cattle, but of men;
And now within he flouts his prisoners.
