dogman189/odysseus-1
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The quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles—Achilles withdraws |
from the war, and sends his mother Thetis to ask Jove to help the |
Trojans—Scene between Jove and Juno on Olympus. |
Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that |
brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did |
it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a |
prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove |
fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, |
and great Achilles, first fell out with one another. |
And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was |
the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent |
a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son |
of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had |
come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had |
brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the |
sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant’s wreath, and he |
besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, |
who were their chiefs. |
“Sons of Atreus,” he cried, “and all other Achaeans, may the gods |
who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to |
reach your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a |
ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove.” |
On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for |
respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but |
not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly |
away. “Old man,” said he, “let me not find you tarrying about our |
ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your |
wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall |
grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home, busying |
herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not |
provoke me or it shall be the worse for you.” |
The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went |
by the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo |
whom lovely Leto had borne. “Hear me,” he cried, “O god of the |
silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest |
Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have |
ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones |
in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows |
avenge these my tears upon the Danaans.” |
Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He came down |
furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver |
upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the |
rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the |
ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death |
as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their |
mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the |
people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were |
burning. |
For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people, but upon |
the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly—moved thereto by |
Juno, who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes and had |
compassion upon them. Then, when they were got together, he rose |
and spoke among them. |
“Son of Atreus,” said he, “I deem that we should now turn roving |
home if we would escape destruction, for we are being cut down by |
war and pestilence at once. Let us ask some priest or prophet, or |
some reader of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove) who can tell |
us why Phoebus Apollo is so angry, and say whether it is for some |
vow that we have broken, or hecatomb that we have not offered, |
and whether he will accept the savour of lambs and goats without |
blemish, so as to take away the plague from us.” |
With these words he sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor, wisest |
of augurs, who knew things past present and to come, rose to |
speak. He it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to |
Ilius, through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo had |
inspired him. With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them |
thus:— |
“Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me tell you about the anger |
of King Apollo, I will therefore do so; but consider first and |
swear that you will stand by me heartily in word and deed, for I |
know that I shall offend one who rules the Argives with might, to |
whom all the Achaeans are in subjection. A plain man cannot stand |
against the anger of a king, who if he swallow his displeasure |
now, will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it. Consider, |
therefore, whether or no you will protect me.” |
And Achilles answered, “Fear not, but speak as it is borne in |
upon you from heaven, for by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, |
and whose oracles you reveal to us, not a Danaan at our ships |
shall lay his hand upon you, while I yet live to look upon the |
face of the earth—no, not though you name Agamemnon himself, who |
is by far the foremost of the Achaeans.” |
Thereon the seer spoke boldly. “The god,” he said, “is angry |
neither about vow nor hecatomb, but for his priest’s sake, whom |
Agamemnon has dishonoured, in that he would not free his daughter |
nor take a ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils upon |
us, and will yet send others. He will not deliver the Danaans |
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