# The Iliad of Homer in English Hexameter Verse/Book 1

THE
ILIAD OF HOMER.
BOOKTHEFIRST.
"Chryses' prayer:—and the pest on the host:—and the strife of the Princes."
Sing, divine Muse, sing the implacable wrath of Achilleus!
Heavy with death and with woe to the banded sons of Achaia!
Many the souls of the mighty, the souls of redoubtable heroes,
Hurried by it prematurely to Hades. The vultures and wild-dogs
Tore their tombless limbs. Yet thus did the will of the Highest
Work to an end—from the day when strife drove madly asunder,
Atreus' son, king of men; and the Godlike leader Achilleus.
Say—from whom of the Gods, at first did the bitter contention
Seize on the chiefs?—From Him:—from the son of Zeus and of Leto!
He, on the leaguering armies, in wrath at the sin of the monarch, 10
Sent a fell pest:—for the monarch sinn'd, and the people were slaughter'd :
Slain for the crime of the king, who dishonor'd the priest of Apollo.
Suppliant Chryses came, to the swift-sailing ships ot Achaia:
Suppliant, seeking his child—with priceless gifts for her ransom;
Bearing aloft his sceptre, the golden staff of his priesthood,
Wreath'd with the sacred fillets:—and much besought all the Achaians
Atreus' sons most of all men, who order'd and govern'd the people.
"Hear me, O Atreus' sons, and ye warrior ranks of Achaia! Yours be it soon, by the aid of the Gods who inhabit Olympus,
Storming the Trojan wall, to return in peace to your homesteads. 20
Only restore me my child!—take the ransom I bring to redeem her!—
Take it, and honor the God:—son of Zeus:— far-darting Apollo!"
Thus did the father pray.—Content were the other Achaians,
Both to give ear to the priest, and to take the rich gift of the ransom.
Little, however, did this suit the mood of the King Agamemnon:
Fiercely the elder he drave from the galleys, and sternly rebuked him.
"Never, again, old man, let me find thee here by the galleys!
Linger not mid them now, nor return thou hither hereafter!
Fillets, and sacred staff, perchance will little avail thee!
Whom thou seekest is mine: and mine, be sure, I retain her! 30
Mine, in my palace at Argos, away from the land of her fathers;
Plying the loom, and sharing my bed, till age come upon her.
Hence then !—tempt me no more !—but begone if thou lovest thy safety!"—
And—in his fear of the King—he obey'd that heavy commandment.
Mourning, he paced by the margin of Ocean eternally sounding— Mourning, yet silent; 'til far from the galleys—and then to Apollo
Deeply and long did he pray—to the son of the fair-tress'd Leto.
"God of the silver bow—thou that art the protector of Chrysa;
Guardest Cilia divine; over Tenedos mightily rulest;
Smintheus:—list to my prayer!— If e'er on the walls of thy temple, 40
Flowery wreaths of mine have bloom'd—if e'er, by my offering,
Bulls, and the blood of goats, have nourish'd the flame of thine altars;
Tear for tear that I shed, let a Danaan die by thine arrows!"
Earnestly pray'd his priest; and the prayer rose to Phœbus Apollo!
Down from the peaks of Olympus, in all of the pride of his anger,
Down the avenger came:—and the silver bow on his shoulder,
Clang'd as he rush'd along; and the shafts rattled loud in the quiver,
E'en as alive with the wrath of the God:—as like night he descended.
Planted afar from the fleet, on the fleet flew his terrible arrows.
Dire was the clang of the silvery string as it sounded and bounded!
First upon mules, and dogs swift-limb'd, and then upon mortals,
Hurtled the shafts; and fast thro' the air rose flames from the death-piles.
Nine long days thro' the camp raged the shafts of the God:—on the tenth day,
Came into Council the chiefs, convened by the voice of Achilleus.
Herè urged him on—for the white-armed Queen of Olympus
Mourn'd for the Danaan hosts, and lamented the deaths of her people. 50
Then, when the chiefs were met—all rang'd in the crowded assemblage,
Rising above their ranks, thus spake the swift-footed Achilleus!—
"Sure, it were better, Atrides, that we, the remains of the people,
Wandering back as we came, should fly, if we can, from destruction! 60
War and pest combined are thinning the ranks of Achaia.
Let us at least consult some prophet or skilful diviner,
E'en an expounder of dreams—(for Zeus sends dreams to the dreamer,)—
He may reveal what cause thus enrages Phœbus Apollo.
Whether a broken vow, or gift withheld from his altar,
Angers the God:—and whether the blood of lambs and of sucklings,
Spotless, slain at his shrine, may appease and stay the destroyer."
Thus did he speak; then sat: and then uprose in the presence,
Calchas, Thestor's son;— most skilful far of diviners!
Both the dim past, and the present, he knew; and the mystical future. 70 By his prophetic art, it was given by Phœbus Apollo,
He, unto Ilion's shores, had guided the ships of Achaia.
Now, much moved for the weal of the people, he spake to Achilleus.
"Thou, O beloved of Zeus, O Achilleus, bidst me discover
Whence is the wrath of the King, of the far-darting archer Apollo.
At thy command, then, I speak:—but do thou, by the faith of a monarch,
Swear with the word of thy mouth and the might of thine arm to protect me.
Little, perchance, will the tale I must tell please a notable leader;
Mightily ruling in Argos;—renown'd among all the Achaians.
Monarch to private man is in sooth an unequal opponent. 80 Haply within his breast he may keep down the wrath for an instant:
But it is brooding there: it still has an end to accomplish;
Deep in his heart.—Then consider, and say if you wish to protect me."
Then uprose in his place and spake in answer Achilleus.
"Boldly speak as thou know'st!—Speak all, as the Gods have disclosed it!
For, by the God Zeus-loved, by Apollo's self, do I swear it,
—E'en by the God whose oracular will by thy mouth is revealèd,—
None, while I tread earth, and live in the light of the sunshine,
None of the Danaan host upon thee lays finger to harm thee,
Name as thou wilt.—Were it even the best and the bravest among us; 90 E'en were it he, first of all the Achaians, the King Agamemnon."
Then did the blameless Seer take courage;— and thus he proceeded.
"Neither for broken vow, nor gift kept back from his altar,
But for his priest—whom he, Agamemnon, wrong'd—is the vengeance;
And for the maid denied, and slighted price of the ransom.—
Therefore the shafts of the God have flown!—And yet will they pierce us,
Nor shall his grievous hand be amoved, nor the pest be abated,
Till unto Chrysa, the maid of the eyes so bright in their blackness,
Ransomless home be returned;—with hecatombs, meet for the altars
Of the offended God.—Then, perchance, he may pardon and spare us."100
Calchas spake, and sat:—and then, amid all the assemblage,
Rose up the hero Atrides, the wide-ruling King Agamemnon.
Furious he rose;—and the black veins filled in the breast of the monarch:
And in his rolling eyes flash'd brightly the terrible anger.
Bent on the Seer were his wrathful brows, and in wrath he addressed him.
"Prophet of ill! that tongue never yet spake of peace to thy monarch!
Dear unto thee is the art which promiseth ill to thy neighbour!
Little the good that thou speak'st, nor greater the good that thou doest.
And is it now thy task to suggest to the Danaan leaders,—
Ill-boding priest as thou art,—that for me have the shafts of the day-God, 110
Smitten the host? for that I, their King, the rich gifts of the ransom
Spurn'd, as the price of Chrysèis?—Dear to my soul is the maiden;
Hoped-for light of my home!—More dear than my spouse Clytemnestra;
Wife of my youth as she was!—My prize is her equal in all things:
Equal in face, in form, in mind, and in gifts of the artist.
Yet, as she is, I am ready to yield her, if safety demand it!
Dearer to me than all this are the safety and weal of my people.
But some prize at once should be mine in the place of the maiden.
Ill befitting it were, that your monarch, alone of the Argives,
Prizeless remain! for ye see that my own first prize is departing." 120
Then to the King in reply spake the great swift-footed Achilleus.
"Atreus' glorious son,—yet fonder of booty than glory,—
How shall Achaia' s sons provide this prize thou requirest? No common fund is ours laid up for the calls of the future.
Fast as we win our spoil from the foes that spoil is divided:
Hard and unwelcome task were it now to recall the division.
Yield thou the maid to the God:—and be sure that the sons of Achaia
Triply, ay and quadruply, will grant thee a rich compensation,
When, by the aid of Zeus, Troy's ramparts crumble before us."
Then to the chief in reply spake the King of men—Agamemnon. 130
"Think not, brave as thou art, most mighty and Godlike Achilleus,
Think not thus to cajole me, for truly the scheme will avail not.
Deem not that I, at thy bidding, will tamely relinquish the maiden,
Thou still holding thine!—Dost bid me thus calmly resign her? If so, some other prize, in her place, let the noble Achaians
Find for me, worthy the damsel, and such as my fancy approves of.
If they refuse, I myself will seize, in my right as the monarch,
Thine, or the prize of Ajax, or even that of Odysseus:
Seize, and retain!—Right sore will, I trow, be the mind of the loser.
But any future time may suffice us for this:—for the present 140
Launch we a long dark galley at once on the breast of the ocean,
Mann'd by a chosen crew; with hecatombs meet for the altars
Of the offended God:—Chrysèis, daintily featured,
Let her embark:—and let some chieftain renown'd in the Council,
Ajax, or Idomeneus, or the Godlike leader Odysseus,
Or. let Pelides' self,—most terrible hero among us,—
Make an atonement for all; and appease and avert the destroyer."
Then, with a low'ring look, spake the swift-footed chieftain Achilleus.
"Cloth'd as thou art in thine impudence, ever regardful of plunder,
Why, at command of thee, should one of the sons of Achaia 150
Stir from his native home, or mix in the strife of the valiant? Not for offences to me, came I here as the foe of the Trojans.
Me did they never injure—no herds, no steeds, have they plundered:—
Never have they in Phthia, that fertile cradle of heroes,
Wasted my crops:—right safe from their arms is the vale of my fathers;
Girt by the shadowy hills, by the belt of the sonorous ocean!— Only for thee, dog-faced as thou art, in thy cause, and thy brother's,
Even to work thy revenge upon Troy, come we here to the battle:
Yielding service to princes who neither esteem nor regard it.
And dost thou venture to threaten to pilfer the prize which the Argives 160
Gave to me—petty reward, as it is, of my toil and my labors? Diverse in sooth our lots in the day when the sons of Achaia
Sack and level to dust any populous town of the Trojans.
Full of the work are my hands in the toil and heat of the battle:
Mine is the weight of the war: but when men share in the plunder
Thine are the great rewards; while I, worn down by the conflict,
Blest with a niggard gift, must march content to my vessels.
But to the shores of Phthia the black-beak'd prows of my galleys
Home shall return:—better far it were so!—What then will Atrides
Gain of plunder or spoil, by himself left sole and deserted?" 170
Then to the chief in reply spake the King of men—Agamemnon.   "Fly, by all means, if thine anger impel thee!—I will not entreat thee!—
Hope not for prayers from me!—There are chieftains many beside thee,
Ready to honor their King:—and Zeus himself will protect me.
Hatefullest art thou to me amid all the high princes among us!—
All thy delight is in strife, and in war, and the tumult of battle.
Strong if thou art, it is God who has given thee strength to presume on.
Hence then!—Fly, with thy ships, and thyself, and thy doughty companions!—
Rule as thou pleasest thy Myrmidon vassals!—As nought I regard thee,
Thee and thine anger alike:—and here it is mine to threaten. 180
True is it Chryses' daughter is claimed by Phœbus Apollo:
Home shall the maiden return, in my ship, with my chosen companions.
But, in the self-same day, Brisèis, daintily featured,
Thine own prize, do I seize; within thy tent do I seize her.
Thus, all strong as thou art, my sway shall be known as the stronger.
So may none other be ready to deem him my peer, or oppose me."
So spake the King:—right sore was the strife in the breast of Achilleus.
Much did he doubt whether, baring the blade of his terrible broadsword,
Bursting the crowd right asunder, to strike at Atrides, and slay him;
Or to contain his wrath, and vanquish the storm of his passion. 190 Still in his mind and soul was the strife of conflicting emotions.
Half he unsheath'd his blade.—But down came Pallas Athenè,
Down from the skies she descended; (the white-arm'd Queen of Olympus,
Sent her, for both of the chiefs were guarded and loved by the Goddess)—
Gliding behind him, she finger'd the golden locks of Achilleus,
Only revealed unto him—none else saw the heavenly vision.
Thrill'd to her finger Pelides: and turning his head he beheld her;
Saw, and knew her well;—for her eyes shone fearfully on him:—
Knew her for Pallas Athenè; and rapidly thus he address'd her.
"Why thus here upon Earth, child of Zeus, of the Ægis-wielder? 200 Is it, that thou may'st note the injurious pride of Atrides?—
Then, do thou hear me predict—and see the prediction accomplished—
Soon shall his forfeit life pay the price of his insolent rashness!"
Then, in reply to the chieftain, the blue-eyed Goddess Athenè.—   "Not to see this, but to temper thy wrath, I descend from the heavens:
Nor do I come of myself; for the white-arm'd Herè has sent me.
He and thou both alike are guarded and loved by the Goddess.
Then put an end to the strife, nor draw that sword from its scabbard!
Use not the cold keen blade, but the keener edge of invective!
For of a truth I affirm,—and my words shall be surely accomplished,— 210 Presents of threefold value shall soon make costly atonement
For this insult foul!—So master thyself: and obey me!"   Thus, to the Goddess in answer, the swift-footed chieftain Achilleus.
"Meet is it, O thou divine One, that, e'en in the heat of my great wrath,
I should obey the command of the two;—of thee and of Herè.—
Whoso gives ear to the Gods, to his prayer will the Gods be propitious."
Speaking he stay'd his hand from the silver hilt of his broadsword:
Sent to the scabbard the blade;—and respected the words of the Goddess,
E'en of the Goddess Athenè.—And she up again to Olympus
Rose;—to the home of the Gods, and of Zeus the Ægis-wielder. 220
Then did Pelides again, in accents of hate and of fury,
Speak, unto Atreus' son;—in accents of bitter invective.
"Dog as thou art in face; tame at heart as the deer of the woodlands;
Sot of a king!—When wert thou ever seen, mid the lords of Achaia,
Arm'd in the van of fight; or, in the more perilous ambush,
Winning the spoils of a foe?—Not for thee such uncertain encounters!—
Thou lovest safer plunder—the plunder of friends not of foemen—
Ranging the camp of Achaia, to pilfer from those who oppose thee.
—King preying on thine own people;—a king that rules over dastards;—
Were they not such, Atrides, thy pride had ere this been abated! 230
List but a moment longer, and mark the great oath I am swearing!—
Even by this very sceptre—which, stripped of its leaves and its branches,
Never to know them again, left its parent stem on the mountains,
Never again to bud forth—for the cold keen steel has dissever'd
Leaves, and shoots, and bark; and thus do the sons of Achaia,
They who defend Heaven's right, and enforce the will of the Highest,
Bear it, as sign of sway:—ay! deep is the oath I am swearing;—
When in their utmost need, when all of the sons of Achaia,
Yearn for Achilleus' help—they may yearn for, but shall not obtain it!
Then when, unequal to aid, thou beholdest the heaps of the dying 240 Piled by the arm of Hector,—the arm of the homicide Hector—
Bitterly then shalt thou rue, in remorse and in anguish of spirit,
Rue that day when thy madness dishonor'd the bravest Achaian."
Thus did Pelides speak:—and speaking he hurl'd his sceptre,
Golden-studded, to earth, at his feet:—and sat and was silent.
Equally stern sat Atrides.—To them, far renown'd in assembly,
Uprose the Pylian king, the melodious orator, Nestor.
Soft o'er his lips ran mellifluous words, as the running of honey.
Two generations of men, who had lived to the prime of their manhood,
Grew up and flourish'd with him, and had faded away and departed, 250 In Pylos, loved by the Gods:—and he ruled o'er the third generation.
Friend as he was of both of the princes, he rose and address'd them.
"Great, O alas, how great, is the grief this day of Achaia!
Great, how great, were the joy of Priam, the children of Priam,
Troy, and the sons of Troy, did they know of this mad contention,
'Twixt the two first of the host: best in council and bravest in battle.
Hear me, my friends, and conform to my words!—Ye are younger than I am !—
Chieftains of old I remember,—ay, chieftains mighty in prowess—
Mightier e'en than yourselves; and they, when I spake, disobey'd not.
Ne'er have I seen such chiefs—mine eyes shall never behold such,— 260 Chiefs such as Peirithoöus; or as Dryas, first of the people;
Cænëus; and Exadius; and the godlike man Polyphemus;
Theseus, Ægeus' offspring, a warrior like the Immortals.
Strongest in fight were they, of all who on earth had their dwelling;
Strongest in fight were they; and fought, as was fit, with the strongest;
Fought with the mountain-monsters, and utterly smote and subdued them.
Such were my friends in youth:—such the comrades I met in my travel,
Far from the Apian realm;—and at their wish we were comrades.
'Mid them I fought as I might;—but not their equal in battle
Breathes there of mortal men, of men such as now are created. 270
These men heard me advise;—and as I advised they attended:
O be ye like unto them; for the words that I speak will avail you.
Great as thou art, O King, from Achilleus take not the damsel!—
Touch not the prize which he holds as the gift of the sons of Achaia!—
Neither do thou, O Pelides, indulge in unseemly contention
With him, the King!—for I tell thee this:—never yet was there monarch
Honor'd by Zeus as he is;—of all who rule with the sceptre.
Grant thou art strong in fight,—that a Goddess-mother has borne thee;—
Yet he excels in this,—his rule and sway are the wider.
Calm then thy wrath, O Atrides;—for I, even I, do entreat thee, 280
Pray thee to master thy hate to Achilleus:—who, as a bulwark,
Stands 'twixt the sons of Achaia, and all of the chances of battle."
Then to the sage, yet again, spake in answer the King Agamemnon.
"What thou hast said, O father, is true; right well hast thou spoken.
But that man seated there must still be the first of his fellows:
All are to yield unto him; he still is to lord it o'er others;
Still to dictate unto all.—But I trow he will find me his equal.
If he be strong in fight, by the gift of the Gods, the Immortals,
Is it their will he is thus to abound in abuse and invective?"
Then, interrupting the King, spake the Godlike leader Achilleus. 290
"Well should I merit the name of coward and spiritless dastard,
Were I to yield unto thee, and tamely submit to thy bidding.
Lay what commands thou wilt on the rest:—but to me, for the future,
Venture no more to dictate;—for I trow thou'lt find me thine equal!
But let me tell thee this—and my words they had best be remember'd—
Never again, for a girl, this hand draws sword on a foeman :
Neither on thee, nor on others:—my prize you may take, as you gave her.
But for the rest of my spoil, in the long dark hold of my galley,
Keep thine hands from it:—or touch it, King, if thou darest!
Dare but to venture the risk, and plenty are here for beholders;300 Plenty to see that dark blood drip from the point of my warspear!"   Thus then, at last, did the chiefs put an end to the wordy contention:
Rise from their seats:—and there by the ships dismiss'd the assembly.
Peleus' son to his tents, and the well-curved sides of his galleys,
Went with Menœtius' son, and the rest of his trusty attendants.
Atreus' son made ready a swift-sailing bark,—and within her
Twice ten chosen rowers; and hecatombs meet for the altars
Of the offended God:—Chrysèis, daintily featured,
She too went with the rest:—and in charge of the whole was Odysseus.
Soon were the whole on board, and tracking the waste of the waters.310 Then at Atrides' word did the host perform a lustration:
Washing from all that defiles; and casting to sea the defilement.
Goats then and broadneck'd bulls, on the shore of the desolate Ocean,
Unto Apollo died:—whole hecatombs meet for his altars.
Curling roll'd to the skies the acceptable smoke of the victims.
Thus was the host employ'd.—But the monarch, the King Agamemnon,
Put not away his wrath, nor forgot his threat to Achilleus.
He to Talthybius, and to Eurybates, call'd and address'd them.
Heralds they of the King, and tried and trusty attendants.
"Go to Achilleus' tent—to the tent of haughty Pelides—
Seize and bring from thence Brisèis, daintily featured.
If he refuse to yield, ourself in person will seize her:—
Seize her by force of numbers:—perchance it would gall him the deeper!"—
Thus did the monarch speak, and he straitly enjoined, and dismissed them.
Slow and reluctant they went by the shore of the desolate salt sea.
Slowly they went, till on reaching the tents, and the Myrmidon galleys,
There did they light on the chief, in his tent, in the shade of his galley,
Seated apart:—as he saw them, grief fill'd the mind of Achilleus.
Fearing the hero's wrath, but mindful still of their own King,
Silent they stood:—no demand did they make; not a word did they utter. 330
Well did he understand their errand, and thus he address'd them.
"Messengers e'en as ye are, of Zeus as well as of mortals,
Heralds, all hail, approach!—Ye, truly, are blameless before me!—
Guilty alone your King; who by you lays claim to the damsel.
Bring then the damsel Brisèis, my Zeus-descended Patroclus!
Bring her, and let her depart!—But bear ye witness, O heralds;
Witness before the high Gods, everblest; in the presence of mortals;
E'en of the ruthless King;—when the time of his need overtakes him;
When I alone shall stand 'twixt him and utter destruction,
Utter destruction to him and to all——But the man is a madman! 340 Past misfortune, to him brings no wise care for the future:
Not one saving thought for the weal of the sons of Achaia."
Thus did the hero speak; and his words were obey'd by Patroclus.
Forth from the tent did he bring Brisèis, daintily featured;
Bring her, and give to the men:—who return'd to the ships of Achaia.
Slowly and sad went the maiden away from the tent:—but Achilleus
Weeping, apart from the rest, sat him down by the wandering waters,
Close by the hoary sea:—and he steadfastly gazed on the billows
Heaving darkly; and stretch'd. out his hands, and thus pray'd to his mother.
"Mother—for mother thou art—to a premature death thou hast borne me!350
Honor, at least, was my due from him who is throned on Olympus,
E'en from the Thunderer, Zeus!—But no honor at all doth he give me! Foul dishonor is mine, at the hands of the King Agamemnon:
He for himself has seized on my prize;—has seized and retains her."
Weeping he spake;—and his mother divine heard all that he utter'd;
E'en in the caves of her sire, in the depths of the fathomless ocean.
Swift from the hoary main, she emerged as the mist of the morning;
Came to her weeping son, and sat her down softly before him;
Touch'd with her soothing hand, and call'd him by name and address'd him.
"Why these tears, O my son?—What sorrow has come to thy bosom?360 Keep it not there conceal'd—let us know it, and share it together!"
Then, with a deep-drawn groan, spake the swift-footed chieftain Achilleus.
"Thou know'st all!—Why then should I tellthee a tale that thou knowest?—
We attack'd sacred Thebeè,—Eeëtion's beautiful city,— Storm'd and plunder'd the place, and hurried the spoil to the galleys.
Fairly the spoil was portion'd around by the sons of Achaia;
Giving to Atreus' son Chryseèis, daintily featured.
Chryses, priest of the far-darting Deity,—priest of Apollo,—
Came to the swift-sailing ships of the well-mailed sons of Achaia,
Suppliant seeking his child, with priceless gifts for her ransom,370 Bearing aloft his sceptre, the golden staff of his priesthood,
Wreath'd with the sacred fillets: and much besought all the Achaians;
Atreus' sons most of all men, who ordered and governed the people.
Suppliant thus did he pray; and content were the other Achaians,
Both to give ear to the priest, and to take the rich price of the ransom
Little however did this suit the mood of the King Agamemnon:
Fiercely the elder he drove from the galleys and sternly rebuked him.
Wrathfully parted the priest, and pray'd in his wrath to Apollo;
Pray'd, and his prayer was heard, for well did the God love his servant.
Soon on the Argive ranks flew his fatal shafts: and the people 380 Died in heaps around; and wider still did his arrows
Range thro' the hosts of Achaia.—At last a skilful diviner
Rose and revealed the will of the God, the far-darting destroyer.
First then was I to advise that the wrath of the God be abated.
Rage seized Atrides' soul:—he rose up hasty in anger,
Dared to give word to a threat, and dared but now to perform it.
His prize, this very moment, the black-eyed sons of Achaia
Send unto Chryses, home; with gifts for the shrine of Apollo.
Mine, even now is led far away from my tent by the heralds;
Even the maid Brisèis, my gift from the sons of Achaia. 390 But do thou, O mother dear, if thou canst, aid thy son in his sorrow!
Go to the dome of Olympus! to Zeus prefer thy petition!
If ever deed of thine, if ever thy word has availed him.
Oft have I heard thee tell, in the halls of my father I heard thee
Tell, how that thou by thyself, amid all of the race of Immortals,
Stood by the God of Storms, and saved him from utter destruction:
Saved him from shameful bonds, at the hands of the race of Olympus;
Herè, mighty Poseidon, and virgin Pallas Athenè.
You to his rescue came, O Goddess, and saved him from fetters:
Brought to his aid on Olympus, the giant, the hundred-handed; 400 Call'd by Immortals Briàreus; known among men Ægæon;
For that in strength of arm his father was weaker than he was!—
Proud of his unmatch'd might did he sit by the side of Cronīon;
And the Gods saw, and fear'd, and paused, nor attempted to bind him.
Go then: remind him of this: clasp the knees of the God: and entreat him!
Urge him to grant his aid to the hostile ranks of the Trojans;
So that, Achaia's hosts, dying fast by the brink of the ocean,
Under their prows may learn to rejoice, as they may, in their great King.
So may Atrides' self, their wide-ruling King Agamemnon,
Curse that folly which dared to dishonor the bravest Achaian."410
Tears suffusing her cheeks, to the chief spake Thetis in answer.
"Why did I bear thee, my son?—or why, having borne, did I rear thee?
Surely thy little life in thy ships, without tears, without sorrow,
Might have been lived in peace; since fate is so quickly to claim thee!
Doom'd to a death premature, more than all doom'd in life to affliction,
Thine is a hapless fate;—to a destiny sad have I borne thee!
Yet will I urge this suit, on the snow-crowned peaks of Olympus,
Unto the Thunderer, Zeus:—and perchance he will hear my entreaty.
Only do thou, O my son, stay here by thy swift-sailing galleys;
Nourish thy hate to Achaia; refrain altogether from battle.420 Unto Oceanus, Zeus, 'mid the blameless Æthiop people,
Yesterday went to a feast, and the rest of the Deities with him.
Upon the twelfth morn thence he will surely return to Olympus:
Then will I go unto Zeus, in his glittering dome will I seek him;
Cling to the knees of the God, and methinks he will grant my petition."
Thus did the Goddess speak; and she left her son still in his anger,
Grieved to his inmost soul for the fair-form'd maid who had left him;
Left him, parted by force.—Meanwhile did the subtle Odysseus
Make for the port of Chrysa, with hecatombs vowed to Apollo.
Soon they arrived at the port,—at the port so deep in its soundings;430 Furl'd up the sails, and stow'd them away in the hold of the galley:
Down let the mast to the crutch—down quickly by aid of the halyards;
Deftly directed the ship by the oars to the place of the moorage;
Forth then casting the anchors, they moor'd it fast by the halsers:
Forth from the deck came the crew, where the sea-waves broke on the
shingle;
Forth came the victims doom'd to the shrine of the archer Apollo;
Forth came the maid Chrysèis;—in joy from the hold of the galley.
Soon, to the shrine of the God, was she led by the subtle Odysseus;
Who, to the hands of her father, restored her:—and thus he address'd him.
"Chryses, I here am sent by the King of men, Agamemnon,440 Both to restore thee thy child, and to Phœbus offer atonement;
E'en for the Danaan host;—thus appeasing the wrath of the monarch,
Who on the Argive ranks has sent down weeping and wailing."
Speaking, he gave to her father his child; and he joyfully took her.
Hastily then they brought full hecatombs, meet for the great God,
Unto his well-built altar, and ranged them in order before it.
Washing their hands, they waved salt cake o'er the heads of the victims.
Then pray'd Chryses aloud, with hands raised high to the heavens.
"Thou of the silver bow!—Thou that art the protector of Chrysa!
Guardest Cilla divine, over Tenedos mightily rulest!450 E'en as when first I invoked thee thou heardest the prayer of thy servant,
Honor awarded to him, heavy doom to the sons of Achaia;
So now, hear him again! hear the voice of thy servant's petition!
Take from the Danaan army the plague thou'st sent to destroy them!"   Earnestly pray'd his priest: and the prayer reach'd Phœbus Apollo.
Then when the prayers were pray'd, and the salt cakes cast on the victims,
Stretching their necks to the full, they smote, and slaughter'd, and flay'd them.
Sever'd the thighs for the God, and wrapp'd caul carefully round them,
Wrapp'd it in double folds; and placed choice morsels upon it.
Then did he kindle the fagots, and pour rich wine on the off'ring:460
Ready, with five-prong'd forks, were the servants standing around him.
So, when the thighs were consumed, and the inwards, too, had been tasted,
All of the rest of the victim they cut into morsels and spitted;
Dress'd it with careful skill; and removed when the broil was completed:
And, when the food was cook'd, and they ceased from the toil, having
finish'd,
Down to the feast they sat; nor did any lack ample refreshment.
And, when for food and for drink they had sated the appetite in them,
Servants replenish'd the bowls with the sparkling juice of the dark-grape;
Filling the cups for all, in due order and seemly succession.
All the day long in songs to the God did the sons of Achaia,470 Seeking his favor again, chant Pæans loudly before him:
Seeking the grace of the archer-God;—and he heard and relented.
Now the sun sank 'neath the sea; and twilight gather'd upon them;
All laid down to repose, 'mid the halsers, close by the galley.
Soon came the prime of the day—early Dawn, with her fingers-of-roses—
Then did they weigh, and depart, to the host of the sons of Achaia.
Right in the wake of the bark was a fresh breeze sent by Apollo:
Up went the mast high aloft, and the white sail flutter'd afore it:
Fill'd out the sail in the breeze;—and loud 'neath the stem of the galley
Rippled the blue sea-wave; as the bark got her way full upon her,480 Springing from surge to surge, and cleaving a path thro' the waters.
Soon as it came to the shore, to the wide-spread hosts of Achaia,
Over the solid beach did they drag up the galley, and place her
High on the sands, and her sides prop up with the lengthy supporters:
Then went each on his way, to his own tent-door or his galley.
Still did the mighty Pelides, the swift-footed chieftain, Achilleus,
Nourish his wrath, sitting idly apart by his swift-sailing galleys.
Nor to the council he went,—where the eloquent speaker is honor'd,—
Nor did he go to the war.—But his heart it was pining within him,
Pining with rest—and he yearn'd for the war, and the shout of the onset.490
Now had the time pass'd on; and the twelfth fair morn was advancing,
When to Olympus again, did the Gods, who endure unto all time,
Come, with Zeus at their head;—all the Gods. Nor was Thetis forgetful
Of the request of her son; but she sprang from the wave of the ocean;
Rose, as the mist of the morn, to the sky and the top of Olympus.
Cronĭdes there did she find,—all apart from the rest of the great Gods,—
E'en on the loftiest peak of the deep-cloven crest of Olympus.
Lowly the Goddess knelt; and his knees clasp'd tight with her left hand,
Laying her right on the beard and the awful chin of the monarch E'en of the mighty Cronïon:—and suppliant, thus she address'd him.500
"O Father Zeus, if ever, in strife with the Gods, has availed thee,
Act or word of mine, for once grant this my petition!
Honor award to my son!— upon whom comes, soonest of all men,
Fate premature:—upon him has the King of men, Agamemnon,
Foul dishonor imposed,—has seized his prize and retains her.
Only do thou, O Zeus, O Olympian, grant to him honor!
Victory grant unto Troy,—until all of the sons of Achaia
Honor my son as of old:—ay, more, and advance him in honor!"
Thus did the Goddess speak:—but the cloud-compeller replied not.
Long did he silent sit:—but Thetis again in entreaty510 Clung, as if grown, to the knees of the God—and again she assail'd him.
"Give me thy promise, Zeus!—and thy nod too, add, to confirm it!
Or say no!—as thou pleasest—for fear cannot cause a refusal—
So shall I understand and be fully persuaded, that no one
Less is esteem'd than myself, amid all of the race of Immortals."
Grieved in his heart, at last, spake the cloud-compeller in answer.
"Hard is, indeed, the task:— and thy prayer brings quarrels with Hère;
Hère, wont as of old to revile me with bitter invective.
E'en as it is she still, amid all of the conclave of Heaven,
Taunts me, and says it is I that assist yon Trojans in battle.520 Go thou away then at once;—lest Hère chance to perceive thee: Know that thy prayer is heard; and my care shall be still to perform it. Lo if a sign thou seekest, the nod of my head may convince thee; No sign greater than this amid all of the race of Immortals: Never is that recall'd, no deceit can avert its fulfilment,
Never does that come to nought, which the nod of my head has affirmèd."
Thus did the Thunderer speak;—and his dark brows bow'd, as assenting.— Waved, as he solemnly bent, the ambrosial locks of the great King, On his immortal head: and his nod shook mighty Olympus.
Such the discourse of the two, and they hastily parted: and Thetis530 Shot from the shining Olympus again to the depths of the salt sea;
Zeus to his palace return'd;—and the Gods uprose as he entered;—
All uprose from their seats, as the Father enter'd among them:
None dared keep in his place, but all uprose to receive him.
Then sat he down on his throne.—But already had Hère discover'd
How with Zeus had consulted in secret council the Goddess,
She whose feet are as silver, the child of the ancient of Ocean.
And to Cronïon, thus did she speak with her taunting invectives.
"Who is it now of the Gods who is sharing thy councils, deceiver? Ever is it thy joy,—I myself put aside and neglected,—540
Still to perform those schemes thy mind has invented in secret:
Not one word do I hear amid all that thy soul has proposèd."
Then to her thus, in reply, spake the Father of Gods and of mortals.
"Hope not to search out thus all the deep resolves of my bosom;
Spouse as thou art of mine, they are yet too hard for thy knowledge.
What it behoves thee to know thou shalt know soon as the time comes; No one of Gods or men shall e'er be enlighten'd before thee. But what apart from the Gods I devise by myself, for the future, Question me not upon that, nor meddle with what is above thee."
Answer'd again, to the God, thus the broad-eyed beautiful Hère.530
"Cronĭdes, sternest of Gods, what an ill-devised speech thou hast uttered!—
Heretofore nought have I question'd, nor meddled with what is above me.
Thou by thyself hast schem'd whatsoever thy heart has devised.
But I am now much afraid thou art being seduced by the Goddess,
She whose feet are as silver, the child of the ancient of Ocean.
She, as the mist of the morning, has clung to thy knees in entreaty:
Much do I fear, that thy nod has assented to honor Achilleus:
Honoring him, in the deaths of a host of the sons of Achaia."
Then, in reply to the taunt, spake Zeus, great whirler-of-storm-clouds.
"Fertile still of surmise, no action of mine can escape thee.560 Yet thou wilt not succeed:—from my confidence further than ever
Further yet wilt thou stand;—which perchance will gall thee the deeper.
Nor if it do, unto me will thine anger be cause of displeasure.
Sit then in silence down, and attend to the words I have utter'd:
Lest, if thou move me to wrath, not the whole of the Gods of Olympus,
All combined, may avail to release this grasp, if I clutch thee."
Thus spake the God:—and afraid was the broad-eyed beautiful Hère;
Silent she sat; with her breast scarce restraining the swell of her passion.
Sore in the dome of Zeus, were the Gods distress'd at the contest.
Then to appease such strife did Hephæstus, notable artist,570 Speak to them, soothing the mind of his mother, the white-arm'd Goddess.
" Grievous in sooth it is, unendurable longer the evil,
That, for the sake of mortals, ye two thus wrangle together ;
Breaking the peace of the Gods, disturbing their ease and enjoyment ;
Spoiling the zest of the feast, when thus giving way to your tempers.
But to my mother I say, — and she knows I am speaking the hard truth, —
E'en let her yield to my father, to Zeus, and assuage his displeasure :
Lest he continue to chide, and destroy all the joy of the banquet :
For my Olympian father could well, if he wish'd, overcome us ;
Dashing us all from our seats — so much is he strongest in heaven. 68 °
Speak to him then, mother dear ! — and entreat him with words of endear-
ment :
So may the chief of Glympus again be propitious and love us."
Speaking, he fill'd up the cup, with its twofold hollow ; and bore it
Unto his mother dear, and presented it, and thus address'd her.
" Comfort thyself, mother mine ; and restrain thyself; — though with a full
heart.
Lest, all dear as thou art, with these very eyes, I behold thee
Come to the worst in the strife ; and, grieved to the soul, be unable
Or to avert thy doom, or to render availing assistance.
No slight task is it, mother, to strive with the King of Olympus.
Once did he seize me before, in his rage, when I tried to assist thee : 69 °
Seized by the foot, and flung me right over the threshold of Heaven.
All the day long I fell, till the sun was below the horizon:
Then in the Lemnian Isle, came I down — little breath was within me.
There did the Sintians find, and they pitied the case of, the fallen."
Thus did he speak; and a smile lit the face of the white-armed Here.
Smiling, she took in her hand the cup from her son, from Hephaestus.
Then from right unto left, unto all of the Gods in their order,
Bare he the wine, forth-pouring the nectar sweet from the goblet. Loud and incessant the mirth of the Gods, of the happy Immortals, E'en at the sight of Hephaestus, thus puffing along at the banquets.
Thus thro' the livelong day, till the Sun sank down to his setting,
Feasted the Gods upon high ; — nor did any lack ample refreshment.
Lack'd not the sound of the lyre, for the master of music, Apollo,
Stood with the Muses, responsive in song and harmonious numbers.
But when the burning orb of the Sun sank again to his setting,
Wearied and ready for rest went each God apart to his dwelling,
Each to his beautiful home ; to the home which the artist Hephaestus,
Lame as he was, had framed ; the design of his subtle invention.
And to his couch went Zeus, the Olympian, Lord of the Thunder.
E'en to the couch that he sought, when sleep came sweetly upon him : 61 °
There lay he down to repose ; and the golden-thron'd Here beside him.
* ↑ Viz., the death of Hector, as preliminary to the fall of Troy.
* ↑ Chrysèis—who had been allotted to Agamemnon out of the spoil of Cilician Thebes, which had been stormed by Achilles.
* ↑ This was not, in those ages, a necessarily servile occupation.
* ↑ Chrysa seems to have been a district near Cilician Thebes, where there was a temple, of which Chryses, father of Chrysèis, was the priest.
* ↑ A title of Apollo; said to be derived from his having destroyed a plague of mice.
* ↑ The word "Greek," however familiar to the reader of Pope, or Cowper, or Lord Derby, does not occur in the original of the Iliad. The expressions, "Danai," "Argives," and "Atheians," are frequently used to denote the entire body of the besieging army, although properly applicable only to particular portions or classes. The translator has generally preserved in each place the peculiar designation which occurs in the original.
* ↑ It is said that such is the order in which Oriental pestilences usually affect the animal creation.
* ↑ It must be remembered that Agamemnon had already been offered an ample ransom for Chrysèis; and by his refusal to accept it had brought the plague upon the army.
* ↑ Or Ulysses.
* ↑ Although the "prize" of Achilles, and living with him in a state of concubinage, the position of Brisèis seems to have been rather that of an intended wife than of an ordinary mistress. See II. ix., v. 340; and 2 Gladstone's Hom. 496.
* ↑ Compare this with the sign of the miraculous buckling of Aaron's staff.
* ↑ That is, according to some commentators, the Centaurs; but there seems to be no sufficient reason for so describing them.
* ↑ Referring to Helen, as well as to Brisèis.
* ↑ Patroclus, son of Menœtius.
* ↑ The original thus breaks off in the middle of a sentence;—as if Achilles felt that it was useless to complete the threat which he had half uttered.
* ↑ Thetis.
* ↑ It appears, vide infra, book ix, v. 411, that Achilles had the choice of long life, or military glory; and had selected the latter.
* ↑ Son of Saturn:—a title of Zeus; the same as Cronīdes.
* ↑ It is said that Thetis, from a maternal regard to their future destiny, had refused to rear any of her children except Achilles.
* ↑ This is the Asiatic, not the European Olympus.
* ↑ Probably the Indian Ocean.
* ↑ See 1 Kings, ch. 18, v. 27, "Or he is on a journey."
* ↑ The usual form of supplication.
* ↑ This is one of the most exact accounts extant of the ancient sacrifices.
* ↑ Hymns in honour of Apollo.
* ↑ The ancient form of supplication.
* ↑ The idea of the Olympian Jove of Phidias is said to have been derived from these three lines. The assent given to the prayer of Thetis is evidently an unwilling assent.
* ↑ And accordingly the whole of the Divine scheme is communicated to Hère in II. xv.
* ↑ Dropt from "and, with the setting sun, Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star." Par. Lost, I., v. 742.
* ↑ At lame Vulcan thus assuming the office of Hebe or Ganymede:—or at his address to Hère.