|
1-7 |
1-10 |
1-100 161-170 421-461 |
1-4 |
1-3 |
1-4 369-380 |
1-3 |
1-17 |
1-3 |
1-10 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
1-19 |
|
1-256 |
|
|
1-5 |
1-17 247-259 |
1-34 |
1-54 |
|
1-21 |
1-14 413-434 |
1-8 |
|
1-20 |
1-24 |
|
|
|
|
|
1-20 |
|
1-9 70-92 |
|
|
190-200 |
290-295 |
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|
|
|
|
|
|
[1] Sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles Peleus’
son, the accursed wrath that brought countless woes on the Greeks, and hurled
into Hades many strong souls of heroes, and made their bodies a prey to the
dogs and to all the birds, and [by which wrath] the plan of Zeus was being
fulfilled, from the time when first they were divided in strife – Atreides king
of men and noble Achilles.
[1] Now [all] the other gods and horse-helmeted
men were sleeping all night long; but sweet sleep held not Zeus, for he was
pondering in his heart how he might honour Achilles and slay many of the
Achaeans beside their ships. And this plan seemed to his mind the best, to send
to Atreus’ son Agamemnon a destructive [i.e. misleading] dream; and he spoke
and addressed to him [the dream] winged words: “Up, go, destructive dream, to
the swift ships of the Achaeans; and when you have come to the hut of Agamemnon
son of Atreus, tell him absolutely everything exactly as I charge you.
[1] Now when each set of men was marshalled along
with their leaders, the Trojans on the one hand marched with clamour and
screaming, like birds, just as there goes up before heaven the clamour of
cranes which, when they flee from winter and aweful rain, with clamour they fly
towards the streams of Ocean, bearing slaughter and doom to the Pygmaean men,
and at dawn they offer cruel battle-strife; but the Greeks on the other hand
marched in silence, breathing might, eager at heart to assist one another. Even
as the south wind sheds a mist over the crests of a mountain, not at all
welcome to shepherds, but to a thief better than night, and a man can see only
so far as he can throw a stone; so under the feet of them as they advanced
there arose a swirling cloud of dust; and very speedily they traversed the
plain.
[15] Now when they came near in their march upon
each other, godlike Alexander wanted to act as the Trojans' champion, wearing a
leopard-skin on his shoulders, and holding a curved bow and a sword; and
brandishing two spears tipped with bronze he kept issuing challenges to all the
bravest of the Greeks to fight him man to man in deadly combat. But when
Menelaus dear to Ares perceived him coming on with long strides before the
host, - as a hungering lion exults when
he lights upon a great carcass, finding in his hunger a horned stag or a wild
goat; for he devours it greedily even though swift hounds and lusty youths chase
him away - even so did Menelaos rejoice when he beheld with his eyes godlike
Alexander; for he supposed he had got his revenge on the fugitive wrongdoer. So
straightway with his armour he leapt from his chariot to the ground.
[30] But when godlike Alexander noticed him appear
amid the champions, he was smitten in his heart, and he shrank back into the
band of his comrades, avoiding death. And even as a man who sees a serpent in
the thickets of a mountain starts back, and trembling seizes his limbs under
him, and he retreats again, and pallor takes hold of his cheeks: even so did
godlike Alexander, for fear of Atreus' son, shrink back into the throng of the
lordly Trojans.
[38] But Hector beheld and chided him with shaming
words: "Cursed Paris, most excellent in form, deceiver, would that you had
been unborn and died unwed. That is what I would wish, and it would be much
better, than thus to be a cause of outrage and viewed with suspicion among
others. In truth the long-haired Achaeans are laughing, because they supposed
that a prince is champion because a handsome appearance is upon him, whereas in
his heart there is no strength nor any courage. Can it be that you are indeed
such a man in that, having sailed over the deep in your sea-faring ships,
collected trusty comrades, and mingled with foreigners, you brought back a
beautiful woman from a distant land, one that was related by marriage to men
that bear the spear, a great pain to your father and to the city and to all the
people, but to our foes a rejoicing and a cause of shame to yourself? Could you
not, indeed, withstand warlike Menelaos? You would find out what sort of man is
he whose lovely wife you have. Your lyre would not avail you, nor the gifts of
Aphrodite, nor your hair or your figure, when you are mingled with the dust.
But the Trojans are very cowards; otherwise you would certainly already have
been clothed in a tunic of stone on account of all the ills which you have
wrought."
[58] Him then in turn godlike Alexander addressed:
“Since you criticized me deservedly and not beyond measure; - ever is your
heart unyielding, like an axe which goes through wood [wielded] by a man who
cuts out ship’s timber with skill, and it [= the axe] increases the man’s
force; so in your breast is there an undaunted heart. Do not bring up against
me the lovely gifts of golden Aphrodite: by no means to be flung aside are the
gods’ glorious gifts, whatever of their own good will they give; but no one
could take at his pleasure. Now then, if you want me to do battle and fight,
make the other Trojans sit down and all the Greeks; but set me in the midst and
warlike Menelaus, to fight for Helen and all her posessions. And whichever of
us shall conquer and be superior, let him take quite all the possessions, and
the woman, and conduct them home. Let the rest of you, pledging [lit: cutting]
friendship and trustworthy oaths, live on in fertile Troy; and let them return
to Argos grazed by horses, and Achaia home of fair women.”
[76] So he spoke, and Hector on the other hand
rejoiced greatly when he heard his speech; and going into the midst he kept
back the battalions of the Trojans, grasping his spear by the middle, and they
all sat down. The long-haired Achaeans began to shoot at him, and aiming with arrows
and stones they tried to hit him. But he, namely Agamemnon, king of men, cried
aloud: “Stop, Argives! Shoot not, you sons of the Achaeans! for Hector of the
glancing helm looks as if he is going to say something.”
[84] Thus he spoke, and they refrained from battle
and fell silent instantly. And Hector between the two parties spoke thus: “Hear
of me, you Trojans and well-greaved Greeks, the proposal of Alexander, on whose
account this strife has arisen. He bids the other Trojans and all the Greeks to
lay down their goodly arms upon the bounteous earth, and himself in the midst
and warlike Menelaus to fight alone for Helen and all her possessions.
Whichever of the two shall conquer and be superior, let him take quite all the
possessions, and the woman, and conduct them home. But let the rest of us
pledge [lit: cut] friendship and trustworthy oaths.”
[95] Thus he spoke, and they all fell completely
silent. Then in their midst spoke Menelaus of the loud war-cry: “Hearken now
also to me; for grief is come upon my heart most of all; and I think that
Argives and Trojans will soon be separated, since you have suffered many ills
because of my quarrel and because of Alexander who began it.
~ BREAK ~
[161] Thus they spoke, and Priam called Helen with
a [loud] voice: “Come here, dear child, and sit in front of me, that you may
see your former husband, your kinsfolk, and your friends. In my eyes you are
not to blame; no, so far as I am concerned it is the gods who are responsible,
who stirred up against me the lamentable war of the Greeks; - so that you may
name for me even this mighty man, [telling me] whoever is this gallant and
great Achaian hero. Certainly there are others even greater, yea by a head, but
so fine a man have I never yet beheld with my eyes, nor so majestic; for he is
like unto one that is a king.”
~ BREAK ~
[421] When they arrived at Paris' very beautiful
home, the handmaidens thereupon quickly turned to their tasks, and Helen
radiant among women went to her high-roofed chamber. Then the laughter-loving
goddess Aphrodite, taking a seat, bore and placed a seat for her opposite
Paris; there sat Helen, daughter of Aegis-bearing Zeus, turning aside her eyes,
and reproached her husband with these words: “So you have come from the war:
would that you had perished there, slain by that brave hero who was my former
husband! Previously indeed you used to boast that you were stronger than
Menelaus, dear to Ares, in your might of hand and spear. But go now, challenge
Menelaus dear to Ares to fight face to face with you again. But personally I
bid you refrain, and not inadvisedly / senselessly to fight and do battle
hand-to-hand with fair-haired Menelaus, lest perchance you are soon vanquished
by the spear of that man." But Paris in reply addressed her with these
words: "Woman, do not reproach me at heart with harsh taunts: for now
indeed has Menelaus proved the victor by Athene's assistance. But I in turn
will vanquish him, for we too have gods on our side. But come, let us go to bed
together and find pleasure in love, for never before has love so enfolded my
mind; not even when first I snatched you from lovely Lakedaimon and set sail on
my sea-faring ships, and in the isle of Cranae was joined with you in the couch
of love, as now I am enamoured of you and sweet desire takes hold of me."
So saying he led the way to the couch, and his wife followed with him. So the
two of them lay down in their fretted bed. Meanwhile the son of Atreus was
pacing up through the assembly like a wild beast, in the hope that he might catch
sight of godlike Alexander. But none of the Trojans or their famed allies could
then point out Alexander to Menelaus dear to Ares, for it was certainly not
through friendship that they were hiding him; for he was hateful to them all
like black death. And so Agamemnon king of men spoke among them: "Listen
to me, Trojans and Greeks and allies: victory now obviously belongs to Menelaus
dear to Ares; do you therefore give up Helen of Argos and her possessions with
her. Pay whatever recompense is seemly, and which shall live among men
hereafter." So spoke Atreides, and the other Greeks applauded.
[1] Now the gods, sitting beside Zeus, were
holding debate on the golden floor, and with them lady Hebe was pouring out
nectar for wine; and they with golden goblets pledged each other, as they
looked out on the city of the Trojans.
[1] And next, to Tydeus’ son Diomedes, Pallas
Athene gave strength and courage, that he might become conspicuous among all
the Argives and win glorious renown.
[1] So the dreadful fighting of the Trojans and
Achaeans was left to itself, and much to this side and to that the battle set
straight [i.e. ranged / surged] over the plain, as they aimed at each other
their brass-tipped spears, between Simois and the streams of Xanthus.
~ BREAK ~
[369] Having spoken thus, Hector of the glancing
helm departed, and quickly then arrived at his well situated house; but he
found not white-armed Andromache in the halls: she with her boy and fair-robed
handmaiden had taken her stand on the tower, weeping and wailing. And when
Hector found not his blameless wife within, he came and stood upon the
threshold, and addressed the serving-women: “Come now, serving-women, speak
sure truths to me. Whither went white-armed Andromache from the hall? Has she
gone out somewhere to [the home of] my sisters’ or my brothers’ fair-robed
wives, or to Athene’s temple, where the other fair-tressed Trojan women
conciliate the awful goddess?”
[1] So saying glorious Hector rushed out from the
gates, and with him went Alexander his brother; and in their hearts both were
eager to fight and do battle.
[1] Now Dawn with her yellow veil was spreading
over all the earth, and Zeus delighting-in-thunder called an assembly of the
gods on the highest peak of many-ridged Olympus. He himself made harangue to
them, and all the [other] gods hearkened to him:
“Listen to me, all you gods and
all you goddesses, that I may tell you what my heart within my breast commands
me. Let no female god, therefore, nor any male, try this, to cut across [i.e.
thwart] my saying, but all together approve it, that with all speed I may
accomplish these things. Whomsoever I shall observe choosing, without the
knowledge of the [other] gods, to go and help either the Trojans or the Greeks,
smitten in no good order [i.e. horribly] shall he return to Olympus; or I will
seize and throw him into gloomy Tartarus, a far way off, where is the deepest
chasm beneath the earth – there are the gates of iron and the threshold of
bronze - as far below Hades as the sky is above the earth: then shall he know
how far I am the most powerful of all the gods.
[1] Thus the Trojans kept their watches; but a
wondrous terror – the comrade of chilling fear – held the Achaeans, and with
grief unbearable were all the best men stricken.
[1] Now beside their ships the other chieftains
of the whole Achaian army were sleeping all through the night, overcome by soft
sleep; but Atreus’ son Agamemnon, shepherd of the host, sweet sleep held not,
as he revolved many things in his mind. Just as when the husband of fair-haired
Hera lightens, making either much rain unspeakable, or hail, or a snowstorm, when
the snow sprinkles the fields, or [fashining] perchance the great mouth of
bitter war, so often in his breast did Agamemnon groan aloud from the bottom of
his heart, and his spirits trembled within him.
[1] So, then, they were fighting round the
well-benched ship; but Patroclus stood by Achilles, shepherd of the people,
shedding warm tears; even as a spring of black water that down a steep rock
pours its dark stream. And when he beheld him, noble swift-footed Achilles felt
pity for him, and addressing him spoke winged words: "Why are you in
tears, Patroclus, even as an infant girl who, running along with her mother,
importunes to be taken up, taking hold of her dress, and detains her in her
haste, and tearfully looks at her until she is picked up. Like her, Patroclus,
do you shed the tender tear. Do you have anything to tell to the Myrmidons, or
to me myself, or is there some news out of Phthia that you alone have heard?
They say that Menoitios son of Aktor is still indeed alive, and Peleus son of
Aeacus lives yet among the Myrmidons; and deeply we would be grieved if either
of them were dead. Or do you lament for the Greeks, as they perish by the
hollow ships because of their own transgression? Speak out, conceal it not
within your mind, that we both may know."
[1] So, then, were they fighting, in the likeness
of blazing fire, when Antilochus a messenger fleet of foot came to Achilles.
Him [Achilles] he found in front of his lofty-prowed ships, pondering in his
mind the things which had already been accomplished, and sore-troubled he
communed with his great heart:
"Ah me! why, I wonder, are
the long-haired Achaeans again fleeing in terror over the plain and being
driven in confusion to the ships? Only, pray, may the gods not have wrought
against me the fear grievous at my heart, as once my mother plainly revealed to
me, saying that the bravest of the Myrmidons, I being yet alive, would leave
the light of the sun at the hands of the Trojans. Too surely now the gallant
son of Menoetius lies slain, stubborn one! In truth I told him to return to the
ships when he had driven back the fire of the foeman, and not to fight it out
with Hector!"
[15] While he was pondering these things in his
heart and soul, there drew near to him illustrious Nestor's son, shedding hot
tears, and he spoke his grievous tidings:
"Ah me! O son of warlike
Peleus, most mournful indeed is the message you must hear, such as ought never
to have been. He lies slain, Patroclus, and around his corpse stripped of its
armour they are now fighting, while those very arms are held by Hector of the
flashing helmet."
Thus he spoke, and a black cloud
of grief enwrapped him; and with both his hands he took up the dark dust and
poured it down over his head and defiled his comely face, and upon his fragrant
tunic the black ashes settled. He himself lay stretched out mighty and
sprawling in the dust, and with his own hands he tore and disordered his hair.
And the handmaidens, whom Achilles and Patroclus had taken captive, cried aloud
in the grief of their hearts, and ran forth around warlike Achilles, and all
beat on their breasts with their hands, and their limbs gave way under each of
them. And Antilochus on the other side wailed and shed tears, holding the hands
of Achilles as he sobbed out his noble heart; for he feared he might cut his
throat with the sword.
[35] Terrible was the moan Achilles let out, and
his lady mother heard him as she sat in the depths of the sea beside her aged
father; whereupon she [herself] cried out, and all the goddesses flocked around
her, all the Nereids that were in the deep of the sea. There were Glauce,
Thaleia and Cymodoce; Nesaea, Speio, Thoe and ox-eyed Halie; Cymothoe, Actaee
and Limnoreia; Melite, Iaera, Amphithoe and Agaue; Doto, Proto, Pherusa and
Dynamene; Dexamene, Amphinome and Callianeira; Doris, Panope and renowned
Galatea; Nemertes, Apseudes and Callianassa; and there were Clymene, Ianeira
and Ianassa; Maira, Oreithuia and fair-haired Amatheia, and other Nereids that
were in the deep of the sea. The silvery cave was filled with them, and they
all beat together on their breasts, and Thetis
led the lament:
"Listen, sister Nereids, that
you may all hear and know well what sorrows are in my heart. Ah misery me! ah
me, unhappy mother of the best of men, I who, after I had borne a son blameless
and strong, eminent among heroes - and he shot up like a young plant - when I
had reared him like a tree on a fruitful hill, I sent hom forth in curved ships
to Ilium to fight against the Trojans, but never again will I welcome him back,
homeward returning to the house of Peleus. While he yet lives in my sight and
beholds the light of the sun, he grieves, and in no way can I assist him by
going to his side; but I will go to see my dear child, and hear what sorrow has
come to him, although he keeps aloof from the war."
[65] Thus having spoken she left the cave. The
rest went with her, weeping, and on every side the surge of the sea parted
asunder for them. When they reached the fertile land of Troy, they went up onto
the beach one after another, where the ships of the Myrmidons had been drawn up
close together round the swift Achilles. His lady mother went to his side as he
lay groaning deeply, and with a piercing wail she clasped the head of her son,
and lamenting addressed to him winged words:
"Child, why do you weep? What
sorrow has come upon your heart? Speak out, do not conceal it. This indeed has
been accomplished for you by Zeus, as you prayed once before, lifting up your
hands, that the sons of the Achaeans should all be hemmed in at the ships for
what of you, and should suffer unseemly hardships."
[78] Then groaning heavily Achilles fleet of foot
addressed her:
"Mother mine, this indeed has
the Olympian accomplished for me; but what delight therein have I, since my
dear comrade is dead, Patroclus, whom I honoured beyond all my comrades, like
myself: him have I lost, and Hector that slew him has stripped him of his great
armour, a wonder to behold, and fair, that the gods gave to Peleus as a
splendid gift, on that day when they laid you in the bed of a mortal man. Would
that you had dwelt there among the deathless daughters of the sea, and that
Peleus had wedded a mortal bride! But as it is they married you to a mortal, in
order that you too might have infinite sorrow in your heart for the loss of a
son, whom never again you will welcome back home, since neither does my own
heart instruct me to live or abide among men, unless Hector first loses his
life through being struck by my spear, and pays the penalty for the slaughter
of Patroclus the son of Menoetius."
[94] Thereupon Thetis shedding a tear addressed
him:
"Short-lived indeed I fear
you will be, my child, from what you say; for straightway after Hector is death
ready for you."
Then mightily vexed in spirit
Achilles fleet of foot addressed her:
"Straightway may I die, since
it appears that I was not destined to come to the assistance of my comrade now
slain: indeed he has perished far from his country, while he needed me to be an
averter of disaster. And now, since I will not be returning to my dear native
land, neither have at all been a light to Patroclus nor to all my other
comrades that have been slain by noble Hector, but sit beside my ships an
unprofitable burden to the earth, being such a one in war as is none of the
mail-clad Achaians, though in council there are others that are better - I wish
that strife may vanish from among both gods and men, and wrath that causes even
a wise man to become angry, a wrath that far sweeter than trickling honey
mounts up like smoke in the beasts of men, even as Agamemnon king of men
angered me just now. But we will let this be over and done with, for all our
grief, perforce subduing our own heart in our breasts; but now I am going to
find the destroyer of him I loved, Hector; then will I accept my death,
whenever Zeus should wish to bring it to pass and the other immortal gods. For
neither did even the mighty Hercules escape death, although he was most dear to
king Zeus the son of Saturn, but fate subdued him and the grievous wrath of
Hera. So too shall I lie, when I am dead, if a similar fate has been prepared
for me. But now let me win high renown and set some Trojan woman, some
deep-bosomed daughter of Dardanus, on to bitter wailing as she wipes away with
both hands the tears from her tender cheeks; and may they know that I have long
ceased from battle. Keep me not then from the fighting in your love, for you
will not persuade me."
[127] Him then the silver-footed goddess Thetis
answered: "Certainly you have said all this truly, my child; nor is it a
bad thing to ward sheer destruction from your comrades in their distress. But
your fair armour, brazen and glittering, is being held among the Trojans; and
crest-tossing Hector himself takes delight in bearing it on his shoulders. But
I reckon he will not exult therein for long, since death is near to him. But
you go not yet down to the toil-and-moil
of war, until you see me with your eyes coming hither; for at dawn I will go
with the rising sun, bearing fair armour
from king Hephaistos."
[138] Having spoken thus she turned away from her
son, and turning round she addressed her sisters of the sea: "You now
plunge into the broad bosom of the sea, to visit the old man of the sea and my
father's mansions, and tell him all. I am going to lofty Olympus to Hephaistos
the renowned artist, to see if haply he is willing to give my son illustrious
bright-shining armour. Thus she spoke, and immediately they sank beneath the
wave of the sea. And the silver-footed goddess Thetis went on to Olympus, that
she might bring to her dear son the illustrious armour.
[148] Her then towards Olympus her feet bore. But
the Greeks, fleeing with terrible cries before man-slaying Hector, came to the
ships and the Hellespont. Nor would the well- greaved Greeks have dragged the
body of Patroclus, Achilles' squire, out of range of their darts; for now again
overtook him the host and the horses and Hector the son of Priam, like a
fire-brand in prowess. Thrice did illustrious Hector seize him from behind by
the feet, eager to drag him away, and loudly shouted to the Trojans; and thrice
did the two Aiantes, clad in impetuous might, forcibly repulse him from the
corpse. But he, standing his ground, trusting in his might, anon would dash on
through the battle-press, anon again would stop and cry aloud, but he gave
ground not an inch. Even as shepherds in the field are by no means able to
drive a tawny lion in great hunger away from a carcass, so availed not the two
warrior Aiantes to scare Hector son of Priam from the body.
[165] And now would he have dragged it off and won
renown unspeakable, had not fleet wind-footed Iris come as a messenger to the
son on Peleus, runnning down from Olympus, to bid him arm himself, unknown to
Zeus and the other gods; for Hera sent her forth. And standing near, she spoke
to him winged words: "Arise, son of Peleus, most terrible of all men,
succour Patroclus, for whose body a dire battle is afoot before the ships. They
are slaughtering one another, some fighting for the dead body, while others - the
Trojans - make it their aim to drag him to wind-swept Troy; and above all
illustrious Hector yearns to seize him; and his spirit bids him fix his head
upon stakes, after cutting it from the tender neck. But up, lie thus no longer!
Let it come to your mind as a shocking thought, that Patroclus should become a
sport for Trojan dogs; yours will be the disgrace, if the dead body shall be
brought in at all mutilated. Then swift-footed divine Achilles answered her:
"But, goddess Iris, which of the gods sent you as a messenger to me?"
And in her turn the fleet, wind-footed Iris addressed him: "It was Hera
that sent me, the glorious bedfellow of Zeus; nor does the high-throned son of
Cronos know it, nor any other of the immortals who inhabit snow-capped Olympus."
[187] And swift-footed Achilles answered her saying,
"And how am I to go unto the fray? For they have my armour; my own mother
would not allow me to arm myself, until with my eyes I behold her approaching.
For she promised to bring fair armour from Hephaistos. And I do not know who
else's noble arms I may put on, except the shield of Ajax, son of Telamon. But
he himself, I suppose, is in company with the foremost, slaying with his spear
around Patroclus dead". And in her turn the fleet, wind-footed Iris addressed
him:
"Well too do we know that they possess your noble armour; but
go to the trench as you are and show yourself to the Trojans, if perchance the
Trojans may be induced by fear to desist from battle, and the warlike sons of
the Greeks may breathe again in their
distress; and you know any respite in battle is only brief."
[202] Having spoken thus swift-footed Iris
departed; but Achilles dear to Zeus arose, and around his strong shoulders
Athene cast her tasseled aegis, and about his head the divine one of goddesses
set a crown of a golden cloud, and from it she kindled a bright-shining flame.
And as when smoke issuing from a city reaches the upper air, from an island
afar off that foes beleaguer, and they [= the defenders] contend all day in
hateful war from their city; but with the going down of the sun the
beacon-fires blaze out one after another, and the glare rises aloft shooting
forth, for their neighbours to behold, if perchance they may come with their
ships as protectors from disaster; so from the head of Achilles did that flame
reach the sky. He went and took his stand beside the trench, away from the
wall, but not so far as to join the Achaians, for he respected the prudent
bidding of his mother. There he stood and shouted aloud, and afar off Pallas
Athene cried out, and stirred up enormous uproar among the Trojans. And as the
voice is very clear when a trumpet sounds by reason of life-destroying enemies
beleaguering a city, so clear then was the voice of Aeacus’ son. And when they
heard the brazen voice of Aeacus’ son, the souls of all were stirred up; while
the horses of goodly manes were for turning the chariots backwards, for they
presaged sorrows in their heart. The charioteers were terrified when they
beheld the unwearying flame blazing fiercely over the great-hearted son of
Peleus; which the bright-eyed goddess Athene kindled. Thrice over the trench
noble Achilles shouted loudly, and thrice the Trojans and their illustrious
allies were thrown into confusion. Then and there perished twelve chieftains
over their own chariots and spears. But the Achaians gladly drew Patroclus out
of the reach of the weapons and laid him on a bier, and his dear comrades stood
around lamenting him. And among them followed fleet-footed Achilles, shedding
warm tears, when he saw his faithful comrade lying on the bier, torn by the
sharp bronze. Him indeed sent he forth with horses and chariot into battle, but
in homecoming never welcomed again.
[239] Then ox-eyed queen Hera sent the untiring sun
to return, against his will, to the streams of Ocean. The sun set, and the
noble Achaians desisted from the stress of battle and even-handed war.
[243] The Trojans again on their side, retiring
from the violent combat, loosed their swift horses from the chariots before
taking thought for their meal. The assembly consisted of men standing up, nor
did any one dare to sit down, for trembling possessed everyone, because
Achilles had appeared, after that he had long abstained from direful battle.
Then began to speak among them wise Polydamas, son of Panthus, for he alone saw
both the future and the past. He was the companion of Hector, and in one night
were both born; but the one in speech was much the best, the other with the
spear. So with good intent towards them he made harangue and spoke:
[254] “Consider well on both sides, my friends; for
my part I advise that we now return to the city, and not wait for bright
morning on the plain beside the ships, for we are far away from the wall.
[1] But when they had now come to the ford of the
fair-flowing river, the eddying Xanthus that immortal Zeus brought forth, there
splitting them in two he [Achilles] drove some to the plain towards the city,
where the Achaeans were fleeing in bewilderment the previous day, when glorious
Hector was raging;
[1] So they throughout the city, having fled like
fawns, were cooling their sweat and drinking and slaking their thirst, leaning
against [i.e. seeking safety in] the fair battlements; while the Achaeans drew
near to the wall leaning their shields against their shoulders. But Hector did
deadly fate ensnare to remain there before Ilium and the Scaean gates. Then to
Peleus’ son spoke Phoebus Apollo: “Why, tell me, son of Peleus, do you pursue
me with swift feet, yourself being mortal, and me an immortal god? Not even yet
have you recognised me that I am a god, but you rage unceasingly. Truly you
have no whit of care for the distress of the Trojans, whom you put to flight,
who you must surely know have been hemmed into the city, while you have turned
aside here. You will not slay me, since I am not fated for you.” Sorely
angered, swift-footed Achilles spoke to him:
[15] “You have foiled me, far-worker, most
destructive of all the gods, in that you have now turned me here from the wall;
otherwise would many yet have bitten the ground before reaching Ilium. Now you
have robbed me of great glory, while saving them – easily, since you had not
any fear of vengeance hereafter. I would certainly avenge myself on you, if I
only had the power.”
~ BREAK ~
[247] Thus speaking, Athene in her craftiness also
led him on. And when they were near in their advance to each other, great
Hector of the glancing helm addressed Achilles first:
"No longer, son of Peleus,
will I flee before you, as indeed before I fled thrice round the great city of
Priam, and never dared to await your onset; but now my heart urges me to stand
up against you: I shall be either the taker, or the taken. But come, let us
attest the gods here; for they will be the best witnesses and guardians of our
covenant. For I shall not terribly abuse you [will do you no great dishonour],
if indeed Zeus grant me the reward-of-endurance, and if I take your life. But
when I strip you of your glorious armour, Achilles, I will return your dead
body to the Achaians, and do you likewise".
[1] Thus they were mourning through the city; but
the Achaians, when they reached their ships and the Hellespont, dispersed each
to his own ship. The Myrmidons, however, Achilles would not allow to disperse;
but he spoke among his warlike companions: "Fleet- horsed Myrmidons, my
faithful comrades, let us not yet loose our uncloven-hoofed horses from under
the chariots, but with horses and chariots let us go near and mourn Patroclus;
for that is the privilege of the dead. Then when we have taken our fill of
grievous lamentation, we shall unyoke the horses and all sup here."
[12] Thus he spoke, and they with one accord made
lamentation, and Achilles led the way; so thrice around the body they drove
their fair-maned steeds, weeping; and among them Thetis stirred a desire for
lamentation. Bedewed were the sands, bedewed were the arms of the warriors with
tears; for such a deviser of rout they were mourning. And among them Peleus' son
led the loud lamentation, laying his man-slaying hands upon his comrade's
breast: "Hail! O Patroclus, I bid you farewell, even in the house of
Hades; for I am already accomplishing for you all that I engaged before, having
dragged hither Hector to give raw unto dogs to divide among themselves, and
twelve noble children of the Trojans to slaughter before your pyre, because of
my rage at your slaying."
[24] He spoke, and meditated foul deeds against
noble Hector, stretching him prone in the dust by the bier of the son of
Menoitios. And the rest each put off their glittering bronze arms, and unyoked
their high-neighing horses, and sat down in their numbers beside the ship of
swift-footed Aiacides; and he gave them a plentiful funeral feast. Many sleek
oxen were writhing round being slaughtered with steel, and many sheep and
bleating goats; and many white-tusked boars, rich in fat, were extended for
roasting in the flame of Hephaistos; so on every side around the corpse [of
Patroclus] in cupfuls flowed the blood.
[1] The gathering was broken up, and the people
severally dispersed to go to their swift ships. They indeed took care of supper
and sweet sleep, so as to take delight therein; but Achilles wept as he thought
upon his dear companion. Nor did all-subduing sleep take hold of him, but he
tossed to and fro, missing the manhood and the valiant might of Patroclus, and
(remembering) all that he had achieved in company with him and the pains he had
suffered, encountering battles with heroes and the painful billows.
[9] Remembering these things he shed big tears,
now lying on his side, now again on his back, and now on his face; and at other
times rising to his feet he would roam wildly along the shore of the sea. Nor
would he be unaware of the dawn as she arose over the sea and the shores, but
whenever he yoked the swift horses to his chariot, he would bind Hector to be
dragged behind the car; and having thrice drawn him round the tomb of the dead
son of Menoitius he would rest once more in his tent, and leave him stretched
out on his face in the dust. But Apollo kept away all defacement from his
flesh, pitying the man even though he was dead; and he covered him altogether
with the golden aegis, that Achilles might not lacerate him when he dragged him
about.
[22] Thus did he in his anger outrage noble
Hector; but the blessed gods took pity on him when they looked on him, and
urged the keen-sighted slayer of Argus to steal him away. Thereupon to all the
others it was pleasing; but never to Hera or Poseidon or the bright-eyed
Maiden, but they persisted, even as at the beginning holy Ilium became hateful
to them, and Priam and his people, by reason of the folly of Alexander, who
found fault with the [other two] godesses when they came to his steading, but
who approved of the one who gave him the lustfulness that caused pain. But when
at last the twelfth morn from that day arose, then spake among the immortals
Phoebus Apollo:
[33] “Hard of heart you are, O gods, and baneful.
Has Hector never burned for you the thighs of bulls and unblemished goats? whom
now, although being dead, you have not ventured to rescue for his wife to
behold, and his mother and his son and his father Priam and his people; [you]
who would speedily burn him in the fire and moreover perform his funeral rites.
But destructive Achilles, O gods, you are eager to help, to whom there is
neither a righteous heart nor a flexible purpose in his breast; but as a lion
knows wild things, which [lion] yielding to his great strength and arrogant heart
goes against the flocks of men to take his meal: so has Achilles lost [all
sense of] pity, nor in him is there [any sense of] shame, that both harms and
profits men greatly. It is likely I suppose that a man has lost another more
dear [than this Patroclus], a brother of the same womb born or even a son; yet
he relents from his weeping and lamenting, for an enduring soul have the Fates
placed in men. But Achilles, after robbing noble Hector of his dear life, binds
him behind his horses and drags him around the tomb of his dear comrade: and
truly that is nor more honourable or better for him. [Let him beware] lest we
feel just resentment against him, noble though he is, for in his raging he
dishonours the senseless earth.”
[1] Tell me, Muse, of the man of many moves, who
wandered far and wide after he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many the men
whose towns he saw and whose mind he learnt;
and full many the pangs he suffered in his own breast upon the sea,
while striving to win his own life and the return of his companions. But even
so he did not save his companions, eager though he was. For by their very own
recklessness they perished, childish fools, who devoured the cattle of Helios
Hyperion; but he took from them the day of their return. Of these events,
goddess, daughter of Zeus, from some point at least, tell us also.
[11] Then all the rest, as many as had fled from
sheer destruction, were at home, having escaped both war and sea; but him
alone, yearning for his return and for his wife, the queenly nymph Calypso held
- that glorious goddess - kept in her hollow caves, longing for him to be her
husband. But when, as the seasons circled round, the year came in which the
gods destined that he should return home to Ithaca – and not even then was he
released from troubles and with his friends – all the gods took pity on him
except for Poseidon; but he continued to rage unceasingly against godlike
Odysseus until he reached his own country.
[1] Now when early Dawn shone forth, the
Rosy-fingered, the dear son of Odysseus rose up from his bed, and put on his
clothes, and cast his sharp sword about his shoulder, and beneath his smooth
feet he bound his fine sandals, and he stepped forth from his chamber in
presence like a god. And straightway he bade the clear-voiced heralds to call
the long-haired Achaeans to the assembly. The heralds made their call, and the
Achaeans assembled quickly. Now when they were gathered and assembled together,
he set out for the assembly, holding in his hand a spear of bronze, nor was he
alone, for two swift-footed hounds accompanied him. Then Athene shed over him a
wondrous grace, and all the people gazed at him as he came. He sat down in his
father's seat, and the elders gave place to him.
~ BREAK ~
[413] Thus he [Telemachus] spoke and led the way;
and they went with him. So they brought everything and stowed it in the
well-benched ship, as Odysseus’ dear son instructed. Then Telemachus climbed up
into the ship, and Athene went before; then she sat herself down in the stern
of the ship, and near her sat Telemachus. And the men loosed the stern-cables
and climbed on board themselves, and sat down at the benches. Grey-eyed Athene
sent them a favourable breeze, a fresh-blowing Westerly, sounding over the
wine-dark sea. Telemachus urged on his comrades and bade them seize the
tackling, and they hearkened to him as he encouraged them. They raised the mast
of pinewood and set it in the hollow mast-box, and made it fast with the
forestays, and dragged up the white sails with well twisted ropes of ox-hide.
The wind swelled out [by blowing] the middle of the sail, and the heaving wave
seethed loudly round the cutwater of the running ship; so she sped over the
wave, accomplishing her voyage. Then they fastened the sheets in the swift
black ship and set mixing bowls crowned [= brimming high] with wine; and they
poured drink offerings to the immortal everlasting gods, and most of all to the
grey-eyed daughter of Zeus. So then all night long, and through the dawn, the
ship clave her way.
[1] Now the sun, leaving the lovely ocean, leapt
up into the brazen sky, to shine for the immortals and for mortal men upon the
corn-giving earth; and they reached Pylos, the well-built citadel of Neleus.
The people here were doing sacrifice on the sea shore – pure black bulls to the
dark-haired Earth-shaker [Poseidon]. Nine groups there were, and five hundred
men sat in each, and in each group they held nine bulls ready to hand.
[1] Now Dawn arose from her couch, from the side
of noble Tithonus, to bring daylight to the immortals and to men. The gods went
into council and took their seats, and among them high-thundering Zeus, whose
might is above all. And Athene told them the tale of the many troubles of
Odysseus, calling them to mind (for he that then dwelt in the abodes of the
nymph was a care to her): "Father Zeus and you other happy gods who live
for ever, let no sceptred king be deliberately mild and gentle any longer, or know
in his heart what is right, but let him always be a hard man and a dealer in
evil! [11] As nobody spares a thought for divine Odysseus of the people whose
lord he was, and [with whom] he was gentle as a father. But he lies inactive on
an island suffering strong pains, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds
him perforce: and he is not able to reach his own native country; for there are
no ships by him equipped with oars, and
no companions who might send him on his way over the broad back of the sea. And
now, again, men are bent on slaying his beloved son on his way home; [[for] he
went after [= in search of] tidings of his father to sacred Pylos and to
blessed Lakedaimon."
[1] So he, for his part, lay sleeping there, the much-enduring
noble Odysseus, worn out with sleepiness and toil. Meanwhile Athene went to the
land and city of the Phaiacians, who once upon a time dwelt in spacious
Hypereia, close to the Cyclopes, overbearing men who used to plunder them,
being mightier than they. Thence the god-like Nausithous made them rise, and
led them, and settled them in Scheria, far from men that live by bread. And he
drew a wall around the town, and built houses and made temples for the gods and
meted out their fields. But by this time he had been stricken by fate and had
gone down to the house of Hades, and now Alcinous ruled them, privy to the
counsels of the gods. To his palace went the bright-eyed goddess Athene, still
devising a return for the great- hearted Odysseus.
[15] She made her way to the richly-decorated
chamber, wherein a maiden was sleeping, like to the immortal gods in stature
and form, Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous. Beside her on
either side of the door posts were two handmaidens, dowered with beauty from
the Graces. The polished doors were shut, but like a breath of air Athene swept
through to the girl's bed, and stood above her head, and spoke to her in the
guise of the daughter of a famous seafarer, Dymas, a girl who was of like age
with Nausicaa, and one in whom her heart delighted. Making herself like that
girl, bright-eyed Athene addressed her:
[1] Now when our ship had left the stream of the
River of Ocean, and reached the wave of the wide open sea and the island of
Aeaea, where are to be found the dwelling places and the dancing-floors of
early-born Dawn, and the rising-places of the Sun, - upon our coming thither we
beached the ship on the sands, and ourselves too climbed out onto the seashore.
There we went off to sleep and awaited bright Dawn.
[8] So soon as early-born Dawn shone forth, the
rosy-fingered one, I sent forth my comrades to the house of Circe to fetch the
dead body of Elpenor. Quickly we cut some billets of wood and sorrowfully we
performed his funeral rites, where the shore jutted out furthest, shedding big
tears. When the corpse had been burned and with it the dead man's arms, we
heaped a mound and hauled up a gravestone, and planted his shapely oar on the
top of the mound.
[16] So we were performing each of these things.
Meanwhile our return from Hades had not escaped Circe's notice, but quickly she
tidied herself and came down, and her handmaids with her carried bread and meat
in plenty, and sparkling red wine. And standing in our midst the fair goddess
spoke:
[1] So he spoke, and all were hushed in silence,
and were spell-bound throughout the dim-lit hall. Thereupon Alcinous answered
him and spoke: “Odysseus, since you have come to my high house with floor of
bronze, therefore I think you will return home without being driven back [from
your course], even though you have suffered a great deal. And for each man
among you, these are the words of command which I lay upon you, as many [of
you] that in these halls of mine drink evermore the sparkling chieftains’ wine,
and listen to the minstrel.
~ BREAK ~
[70] Now when they had come down to the ship and
the sea, straitway the noble escorts took these things and laid them by in the hollow
ship, all the food and the drink. Then they spread down for Odysseus a blanket
and linen, on the half-deck of the hollow ship, the stern, so that he might
sleep without waking. And he too embarked and lay down in silence, while they
sat upon the benches, each and all in order, and loosened the hawser from the
pierced stone. Then leaning back they threw up the brine with their oars, and a
sound sleep fell upon his eyelids, deep and sweet, nearly like death. Even as
on a plain a yolk of four male horses [stallions] come rushing all together
beneath the blows of a whip, leaping up high and swiftly accomplishing the way,
so leaped the stern of the ship, and the dark waves of the sounding sea rushed
mightily behind. So she ran ever surely on and on; nor could a wheeling hawk
have kept pace with her, the very lightest of winged things. Thus she lightly
sped and cleft the waves of the sea, bearing a man having plans like [those of]
the gods, one who formerly had suffered many sorrows at heart, in passing through
the wars of men and the grievous waves; but for now he slept motionless,
forgetful of all that he had suffered.
[190] So saying he kissed his son, and let a tear
fall to earth: which hitherto he had ever constantly kept restrained. But
Telemachus - for he did not yet believe that it was his father - once more
spoke to him in reply: "No, you are not Odysseus my father, but some power
is bewitching me, that I may weep and sorrow yet more. For not in any way could
a mortal man contrive this by his own wit, unless a god himself were to come to
his aid, and easily by his own will make him young or old. For truly just a
moment ago you were old and shabbily clad; but now you are like the gods who
keep the wide heaven."
[290] So in this manner they were speaking one to
the other; and there was a dog that raised up his head and ears as he lay
there, Argos, belonging to stout-hearted Odysseus, a hound which he himself
once had reared, but had got no enjoyment of him, for ere that he had gone to
sacred Ilios. Previously the young men used to lead this hound against wild
goats and deer and hares;