‘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 sceptre 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 sceptre 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 sate 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-favoured of all men in the host, would not hold his peace.
Shrilly he poured his upbraidings upon Agamemnon.