The Iliad (Penguin Classics) Page 24

  (350) Seeing them, the goddess white-armed Hera felt pity and spoke to Athene with winged words:

  ‘This is disastrous, daughter of Zeus who drives the storm- cloud. Can’t we intervene, even at the last minute, to prevent the Greeks being killed? They are going to be left to their wretched fate – destruction – mown down by this one man’s onslaught. See what Hector has done to them already! And now there is no stopping him in his mad assault.’

  The goddess grey-eyed Athene replied:

  HERA and ATHENE help the Greeks

  ‘Nothing would please me more than to see his mad assault cut short and him drop dead at Greek hands on his native soil. (360) But my father’s in a mad and evil mood himself, obstinate old wretch that he is, always blocking my plans. He never remembers how often I went to help his son Heracles when the tasks Eurystheus set him became too much for him. Heracles had only to whimper to the skies and Zeus would send me speeding down to get him out of trouble. I wish my prophetic heart had warned me of all this when Eurystheus sent Heracles down to the house of Hades, warden of the gates, to bring the hound of hell back up from the depths of Erebus: then I would have made sure he never re-crossed the torrents of the River Styx.

  (370) ’But now Zeus loathes me and is letting Thetis have her way, because she kissed his knees, took his chin in her hand and begged him to bring honour to Achilles sacker of towns. Yet the day will come when he will call me his grey-eyed darling once more. In the meantime, however, you get our horses ready, while I go into the palace of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud and arm for war. I want to see whether this son of Priam, Hector of the flashing helmet, will be pleased when we two appear in the lines of battle; or whether it is now the turn of the Trojans to fall dead by the Greek ships and glut the dogs and the birds (380) of prey with their fat and flesh.’

  So she spoke, white-armed Hera complied and this august goddess, daughter of great Cronus, went off to get ready her horses with their golden headbands. On her father’s threshold, Athene, daughter of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud, took off the soft embroidered robe she had made and worked with her own hands, replaced it with a tunic and over that put on the armour of Zeus, who marshals the clouds, in preparation for war’s work with all its tears. Then she stepped into the fiery (390) chariot and took up the long, thick, heavy spear with which she breaks the ranks of warriors when she, the almighty Father’s child, is roused to anger. Hera immediately leaned forward to whip on her horses, and of their own accord the gates of Olympus thundered open for them. These are kept by the Seasons, the wardens of the broad sky and of Olympus, whose task it is to roll the gates of heavy cloud away from the entrance or roll them back. Through these gates, the goddesses directed their horses spurred on by the whip.

  When Father Zeus saw them from Mount Ida, he was enraged and at once told Iris of the golden wings to convey a message to them:

  IRIS warns HERA and ATHENE

  ‘Off with you, swift-footed Iris! Make them turn back. Don’t (400) let them meet me face to face. It would not be a good idea for them to fight me. But I say bluntly and I mean it: I will hamstring the swift horses they are driving, hurl them both from their chariot and smash it to pieces. Ten rolling years will not be enough to heal them of the wounds my thunderbolt will inflict. That will teach my grey-eyed daughter what it means to fight against her father. As for Hera, I am not so much hurt and angered by her. Defying me comes naturally to her.’

  So he spoke, and Iris, quick as the wind, sped off on her (410) mission. From the peaks of Mount Ida she arrived on high Olympus. On its rugged heights she met the two goddesses at the outer gates, stopped them and delivered Zeus’ orders:

  ‘Where are you hurrying off to? What’s the purpose of this mad adventure? The son of Cronus forbids you to assist the Greeks. Hear what he threatens – and he will keep his word. He will hamstring the horses you are driving, hurl you both from your chariot and smash it to pieces. Ten rolling years will not be enough to heal you of the wounds his thunder (420) bolt will inflict. That will teach you, his grey-eyed daughter, what it means to fight against your father. As for Hera, he is not so much hurt and angered by her. Defying him comes naturally to her. But you have gone too far, you barefaced bitch, if you really dare to brandish that awe-inspiring spear of yours at Zeus.’

  With these words swift-footed Iris took her leave. Then Hera spoke to Athene:

  ‘Oh dear, daughter of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud, I’ve changed my mind. We two will not go to war with Zeus on man’s (430) behalf. Let chance settle who is to live or die. Zeus must decide in his own mind between the Trojans and Greeks, as is only right.’

  With these words she turned their chariot back. The Seasons unyoked their lovely-maned horses, tethered them at their ambrosial mangers and tilted the chariot against the white-plastered courtyard walls. The two goddesses then rejoined the other gods and sat down on golden chairs, thoroughly disgruntled.

  ZEUS reasserts his authority

  Meanwhile Father Zeus left Mount Ida, drove his chariot and horses at speed to Olympus and arrived at the seat of the gods. The famous earthshaker Poseidon unyoked his horses, put his chariot on its stand (440) and covered it with a cloth. Far-thundering Zeus himself sat down on his golden throne, and great Olympus shook beneath his feet.

  Athene and Hera, sitting alone by themselves apart from Zeus, said nothing to him and asked no questions. But he realized what was going on and said:

  ‘Athene and Hera, why so disgruntled? You cannot, surely, be worn out by the battle where men win glory in which you killed so many of those Trojans you hate so intensely. Now, all (450) the gods in Olympus could never turn me from my path, such is my determination and invincible might. But you two were trembling in every shining limb before you ever saw the battlefield and battle’s grim horrors. I tell you bluntly, and I would have seen to it: you would not have returned home in your own chariot to Olympus where the gods live, because my thunderbolt would have wrecked it.’

  So he spoke, and Athene and Hera muttered darkly to each other. They were sitting close together, plotting trouble for the (460) Trojans. Athene held her tongue and said nothing, but glared at Father Zeus, seething with indignation. But Hera could not contain her rage and spoke out:

  ‘Dread son of Cronus, what are you suggesting now? We all

  know well enough you are invincible. But we are sorry for the Greek spearmen, who will be left to their wretched fate -destruction. However, we will refrain from fighting, as you command, and shall concentrate instead on offering helpful advice to the Greeks, so that they will not all come to grief because of your anger.’

  Zeus who marshals the clouds replied and said:

  (470) (ZEUS foretells Patroclus’ death (16.855)) ’At dawn tomorrow, if you are interested, ox-eyed lady Hera, you will witness Zeus behaving even more mightily, destroying much of the Greek army. For I tell you, imperious Hector will give his enemies no rest till swift-footed Achilles rises up again beside the ships on the day when the Greeks, in desperate straits, are fighting at the very sterns of their vessels over the body of the dead Patroclus.

  ‘That is divinely decreed. As for yourself, your fury leaves me unmoved. For all I care, you can go off to the lowest limits of land and sea and join my old Titan enemies Iapetus and Cronus, (480) sitting there sunk in the depths of Tartarus, cut off from the pleasures of the beams of Hyperion the sun and of the breezes. Get even that far in your wanderings, and your resentment will still leave me unmoved. No one is more of a bitch than you.’

  So he spoke, and white-armed Hera made no reply. Now the bright lamp of the sun dropped into Ocean, drawing black night in its train across the fruitful earth. The Trojans had not wished the day to end, but for the Greeks the welcome dark night came like an answer to their prayers.

  Glorious Hector withdrew the Trojans from the Greek ships (490) and summoned a meeting beside the swirling river, in an open space where the ground was clear of bodies; and they got down from their chariot
s to hear what Hector dear to Zeus had to say. He was carrying a spear five metres long; the bronze point glittered in front of him, and a gold ring clamped the socket tight to the shaft. Leaning on this spear, he addressed his troops:

  Hector’s hopes

  ’Trojans, Dardanians and allies, listen to me. I had hoped to destroy the ships and all the Greeks with them before going home to windswept Ilium. But (500) night intervened. It was that, more than anything, that has saved the Greeks and their ships by the sea-shore. But now, we can only do as night dictates and prepare to eat. Unyoke and feed your lovely-maned horses. Then quickly go and fetch cattle and fat sheep from the town and supply yourselves with delicious wine and bread from your houses.

  ‘Then collect quantities of wood. We must have plenty of fires burning all night long till dawn and light up the whole sky. We (510) don’t want the long-haired Greeks launching out over the broad back of the sea and making a dash for home in spite of the darkness. We certainly mustn’t leave them to embark at their leisure. Let’s give each of them something to think about at home – an arrow or a sharp spear in the back as they jump on board – to teach them, and others like them, to think twice before bringing war with all its tears on the horse-taming Trojans.

  ‘In Ilium itself, our heralds must call out boys and grey-haired old men to camp out all round the town on the walls that the (520) gods built us, while our womenfolk keep a big fire burning in every home. In addition, regular guards must be mounted so that no enemy raiding-party can steal into the town while the troops are away. Those, great-hearted Trojans, are my orders; let them be carried out.

  ‘So much, then, for the needs of the moment. As for tomorrow, I say this to you. I pray in good hope to Zeus and all the other gods that I shall be able to drive away these doomed dogs whom the demons of death brought here in their black (530) ships. During the night, we must keep guard on our position. But at the first light of dawn, we will arm and unleash the dogs of war by their hollow ships. Then I shall see whether mighty Diomedes son of Tydeus can drive me back from the ships to Ilium’s walls, or whether I shall bring him down with my spear and carry off his bloodstained arms. He will learn in the morning whether he has it in him to stand up to my spear. More likely, as tomorrow’s sun goes up, he will lie there in the front line, run through, with many of his contingent dead around him. If only (540) I could be as certain of immortality and eternal youth and being honoured as Athene or Apollo are honoured, as I am certain this day will prove disastrous to the Greeks!’

  So Hector spoke, and the Trojans shouted approval. They freed their sweating horses from the yokes and tethered them with straps, each man by his own chariot. They went quickly and fetched cattle and fat sheep from the town, supplied them selves with delicious wine and bread from their houses and collected quantities of wood. Soon the breeze was taking the (550) smell of sacrifice up to the skies.

  The Trojans camp out on the plain

  So all night long, buoyed up with hopes, they sat along the lines of battle, and many fires burned. As the stars in the sky stand out in all their splendour round the bright moon, when the upper air is still; when every lookout place, headland and mountain ravine stands out, and infinite upper air floods down from the skies; when every star is visible, and the shepherd rejoices in his heart – so (560) many were the fires, lit by the Trojans, that could be seen in front of Ilium between the streams of Scamander and the Greek ships. There were a thousand fires burning on the plain, and round each one sat fifty men in the light of its blaze, while horses stood beside their chariots, munching white barley and rye, and awaiting Dawn on her golden throne.

  9

  THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES

  1 -181: [Evening and night before 2 6th day] Agamemnon is desperate, and Nestor proposes that an apology be made to Achilles. Agamemnon sketches the compensation he will offer. An embassy consisting of Phoenix, Odysseus and Ajax is sent.

  182–429: Achilles welcomes and feeds the embassy, and Odysseus makes the offer, adding an appeal to Achilles’ sense of pity. Achilles rejects it outright, saying he will return home next day.

  430–622: Phoenix tries to persuade Achilles, remembering how he came to Achilles’ home and raised him. He appeals to him in the name of the gods of supplication (LITAE) , and tells the story of Meleager who also rejected gifts. Achilles says he will think again about returning home.

  622–55: Ajax appeals to Achilles in the name of friendship. Achilles says he will consider returning to battle if the Trojans threaten his ships.

  656–713: The embassy returns, and Odysseus reports its failure. Dio-medes says it was always going to be a waste of time, and they must just fight on.

  While the Trojans kept their watch, the Greek army was haunted by panic and chilling thoughts of flight. All their leaders were overwhelmed with inconsolable grief at their losses. As the north and west winds suddenly descend from Thrace to whip up the teeming sea; white horses cap the darkening rollers, and seaweed piles up all along the beach – so Greek morale was shattered.

  [Evening, day 25] Greek assembly; Diomedes’ rebuke (4.370)

  (10) Agamemnon, wandering about in complete despair, told his clear-voiced heralds to summon every man by name to an assembly, but not to call out loud and alert the Trojans. He himself played a leading part in this task. The men sat down to the assembly in some desperation. Agamemnon rose, weeping tears like a dark spring trickling black streaks of water down a steep rock-face. Sighing heavily, he addressed the Greeks:

  ‘Friends, rulers and leaders of the Greeks, Zeus son of Cronus has seriously deluded me, a crushing blow. That perverse god (20) once solemnly assured me that we would sack Ilium with its fine walls and return home; but now his advice turns out to be an evil deception, and he is telling me to return home to Argos in disgrace, with half my army lost. It appears that this is what almighty Zeus, who has brought down the high towers of many a town and will destroy others yet, has decided, such is his absolute power. So I suggest we all do what I now propose -board ship and home to the land of our fathers! The Trojans’ town with its broad streets will never fall to us.’

  So he spoke and was received in complete silence by them all. (30) For a long time everyone sat there, speechless and dejected. Eventually Diomedes, master of the battle-cry, spoke out:

  ‘Agamemnon son of Atreus, I will begin by taking issue with you over your stupid proposal – here in open assembly, commander, as is normal practice – and you must not be offended.

  ‘You took it on yourself the other day to call my courage in question in front of the troops. You said I was a weakling and a coward. Well, every Greek, young and old, knows how far that is the case. Then again, Zeus, son of sickle-wielding Cronus, has granted you some things, but not others. He gave you the sceptre of power and the honour it brings with it, but he did not give you courage – and courage is the secret of authority. You (40) amaze me – do you really believe the Greeks are the cowards and weaklings you say they are? If you, for one, have set your heart on getting away, then go. The way is clear, and all your ships are drawn up by the sea, the whole great fleet of them that brought you from Mycenae. But the rest of the long-haired Greeks are going to stay till we conquer Troy. Or let them scramble back home in their ships as well. We two, I and my charioteer Sthenelus, will fight on till we reach our goal in Ilium. We are here because the god wants us to be.’

  (50) So he spoke, and all the Greeks shouted their approval, delighted at the words of horse-taming Diomedes. (Nestor proposes a special council) Now the charioteer Nestor rose to speak:

  ‘Diomedes, you are a formidable warrior in a fight, and in debate you have no rival of your age; no one here will object to your speech or contradict a word of it. But it was beside the point. You certainly talked sensibly to the Greek leaders in terms appropriate to your age, but you are a young man – there’s no denying it – and in fact you could be my (60) youngest son. But I am much older than you are, and it is now time for me to speak out and
take the whole situation into consideration. And no one will look down on what I have to say, not even lord Agamemnon; for that man is indeed an outlaw from clan, law and home who is in love with the bitter taste of internal discord.

  ‘For the moment, we must take the night into account and eat. Sentries must be posted at intervals along the ditch outside the wall. That is a duty I leave to the younger men. After that, Agamemnon, since you rank the highest here, you must take the (70) initiative. Invite your senior advisers to a feast. It is the right way to proceed and can do you no harm. Day by day Greek ships bring wine to you over the broad seas from Thrace. Your huts are full of it; and as ruler over many people, it is for you to offer hospitality. When you have gathered us all together, you must listen to the man who gives you the best advice. We Greeks certainly all need the best and most reliable we can get, with all those Trojan camp-fires so close to our ships. Who finds them a pleasant sight? This one night will sink or save the whole expedition.’

  So he spoke, and they heard and agreed. Armed sentries (80) went out at the double under the command of Nestor’s son Thrasymedes shepherd of the people; Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, children of the War-god; Meriones, Aphareus, and Deipyrus; and godlike Lycomedes, Creon’s son. There were seven captains of the guard, and a hundred young men marched behind each, armed with long spears. They took their posts midway between the ditch and the wall, where each contingent lit a fire and laid out food.