Denied to easy pleasure in the days
That neither bring nor take; tho’ more to me
Embittered with foreknowledge of a doom
Threatened by fate, and labour how to avert.
For to me, questioning the high decrees
By which the sweetly tyrannous stars allot
Their lives and deaths to men, answer was given
That for my son Achilles there was ruled
One of two things, and neither good; the better
A long and easy life, the worse a death