The Argives or the Trojans, be it known,
He wounded shall return, and laught at be,
Or headlong into Tartarus be thrown;
Into the deepest pit of Tartarus,
Shut in with gates of brass, as much below
The common hell, as ’tis from hell to us.
But if you will my power by trial know,
Put now into my hand a chain of gold,
And let one end thereof lie on the plain,
And all you Gods and Goddesses take hold,