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THE QUARREL.
15

"What ails thee, my son?" she said.

Then he told her the story of his wrong, and when he had ended he said:—

"Go, I pray thee, to the top of Olympus, to the palace of Zeus. Often have I heard thee in my father's hall, boast how, long ago, thou didst help him when the other gods would have bound him, fetching Briareus of the hundred hands, who sat by him in his strength, so that the gods feared to touch him. Go now, and call these things to his mind, and pray him that he help the sons of Troy, and give them victory in the battle, so that the Greeks, as they flee before them, may have joy of this king of theirs, who has done such wrong to the bravest of his host."

And his mother answered him: "Surely thine is an evil lot, my son. Thy life is short, and it should of right be without tears and full of joy; but now it seems to me to be both short and sad. But I will go as thou sayest to Olympus, to the palace of Zeus; but not now, for he has gone, and the other gods with him, to a twelve days' feast with the pious Ethiopians. But when he comes back I will entreat