I have a high art: I hurt with cruelty those who wound me. - Archilochus of Paros

You have taken in many blind eels.

Heart, my heart, so battered with misfortune far beyond your strength, up, and face the men who hate us. Bare your chest to the assault of the enemy, and fight them off. Stand fast among the beamlike spears. Give no ground; and if you beat them, do not brag in open show, nor, if they beat you, run home and lie down on your bed and cry. Keep some measure in the joy you take in luck, and the degree you give way to sorrow. All our life is up-and-down like this.

My lord Apollo, single out the guilty ones,
and in your customary way, destroy them all.