If I could veer out straight: Or would, I say,
That Zeus would send us war,—I care not whence,—
To-day;—then set a helmet on my brows,
And give me in either hand a spear and shield;
Thou shouldst not taunt me with my belly then.
Now art thou merely insolent and rough,
Because thy fellows are so few and feeble:
And if Ulysses came and faced thee here,
Those doors, wide as they are, would seem too small
And narrow for thee, in thy haste to fly.