which you have heaped upon myself. Cowardly she-wolves that you are, you feared not the anger of dread Jove, avenger of violated hospitality, who will one day destroy your city; you stole my wedded wife and wickedly carried off much treasure when you were her guest, and now you would fling fire upon our ships, and kill our heroes. A day will come when, rage as you may, you shall be stayed. O father Jove, you, who they say art above all, both gods and men, in wisdom, and from whom all things that befall us do proceed, how can you thus favour the Trojans — men so proud and overweening, that they are never tired of fighting? All things pall after a while — sleep, love, sweet song, and stately dance — still these are things of which a man would surely have his fill rather than of battle, whereas it is of battle that the Trojans are insatiate.”