The Iliad (Penguin Classics) Page 9
* Like our parliamentary expressions, e.g. ‘the noble lord’, or ‘the honourable and gallant member for X’
* Unlike us, he has no superiority complex in relation to animals. He recognizes not only their essential qualities but their right to display them; he even shows sympathy with the wasp (16) and he is the only writer I know who admires the intrepidity of the fly that keeps settling on one’s nose (17).
The Iliad
1
PLAGUE AND WRATH
The Greek army is led by Agamemnon (son of Atreus) . It is besieging Ilium, a town in the region of Troy whose ruler is Priam; it is the tenth year of the war (2.134) .
To satisfy their desire for booty, the Greeks carry out raids on local towns. Human captives are especially prized. They are kept as slaves or sold for ransom. After one such raid, the young girl Chryseis is selected as an appropriate prize for Agamemnon. But Chryseis is the daughter of Chryses, a local priest of APOLLO ...
1–7: The poet announces his theme and asks the goddess (the Muse, goddess of memory) to ‘sing’, through him, the destructive anger of the greatest Greek fighter Achilles (son of Peleus) .
8–52: [1st day] Chryses offers a ransom for his daughter, which Agamemnon brutally rejects. APOLLO sends a plague on the Greeks.
[Nine-day plague]
53–120: [10th day] Achilles calls an assembly, at which Agamemnon agrees to return Chryseis, but demands immediate compensation.
121–307: Achilles and Agamemnon quarrel over compensation. The insulted Achilles threatens to walk out. The goddess ATHENE prevents Achilles killing Agamemnon and promises him massive rewards for the insult. When the much respected Nestor fails to reconcile the two, Achilles stalks out of the fighting, taking his companion Patroclus and their troops (the Myrmidons) with him.
308–48: The mission to return Chryseis sets off, and Agamemnon’s heralds seize Achilles’ girl Briseis.
348–430: Achilles appeals for help to his divine mother THETIS.
430–92: Chryseis is handed over, and the plague ends [1 1th day].
[Eleven-day absence of the gods, beginning from the 9th day, 1.424.]
493–530: [21st day] THETIS supplicates a reluctant ZEUS and persuades him to make the Greeks start losing. That will force them to take Achilles back – with due compensation and the return of Briseis.
531–611: ZEUS quarrels with his wife HERA, who supports the Greeks. HEPHAESTUS restores the peace, and the gods turn to feasting and song. Night falls.
Anger – sing, goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that accursed anger, which brought the Greeks endless sufferings and sent the mighty souls of many warriors to Hades, leaving their bodies as carrion for the dogs and a feast for the birds; and Zeus’ purpose was fulfilled. It all began when Agamemnon lord of men and godlike Achilles quarrelled and parted.
Which of the gods was it that made them quarrel? It was Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto, who started the feud because he was furious with Agamemnon for not respecting his priest Chryses. (10) So Apollo inflicted a deadly plague on Agamemnon’s army and destroyed his men.
Chryses had come to the Greeks’ swift ships to recover his captured daughter. He brought with him an immense ransom and carried the emblems of the Archer-god Apollo on a golden staff in his hands. He spoke in supplication to the whole Greek army and most of all its two commanders, Agamemnon and Menelaus, the sons of Atreus:
‘Sons of Atreus and you other Greek men-at-arms; you hope to sack Priam’s town and get home in safety. May the gods that live on Olympus grant your wish. Now respect the Archer-god (20) Apollo son of Zeus, accept this ransom and release my beloved daughter.’
Then all the other Greeks shouted in agreement. They wanted to see the priest respected and the splendid ransom taken. But this was not at all to Agamemnon’s liking. He cruelly and bluntly dismissed the priest:
‘Old man, don’t let me catch you loitering by the hollow ships today or coming back again in the future, or you may find the god’s staff and emblems a very poor defence. That girl I will not (30) release. She will grow old in Argos, in my household, a long way from her country, working at the loom, sharing my bed. Now get out and don’t provoke me, if you want to save your skin.’
So he spoke, and the old man was afraid and did as he was told. He went off without a word along the shore of the sounding sea. But when he had gone some distance, the old man poured out prayers to lord Apollo, son of lovely-haired Leto:
‘Hear me, Apollo, lord of the silver bow, protector of Chryse and holy Cilla, and mighty ruler over Tenedos! Plague-god, if (40) ever I built a temple that pleased you, if ever I burnt you offerings of the fat thighs of bulls or goats, grant me this wish. Make the Greeks pay with your arrows for my tears.’
[Day 1] APOLLO avenges Chryses: the plague
So he spoke in prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him and came down in fury from the heights of Olympus, his bow and covered quiver on his back. With every movement of the furious god, the arrows rattled on his shoulders, and his descent was like nightfall. He settled down some way from the ships and shot an arrow, with a terrifying twang from his silver bow. (50) He attacked the mules first and the swift dogs; then he aimed his sharp arrows at the men, and struck again and again. Day and night, packed funeral pyres burned.
For nine days the god’s arrows rained down on the camp. On the tenth, Achilles had the men summoned to assembly, an idea the goddess white-armed Hera gave him in her concern for the Greeks whose destruction she was witnessing. When everyone had arrived and the gathering was complete, swift-footed Achilles rose and spoke to them:
‘Agamemnon son of Atreus, what with the ravages of the fighting and the plague, any of us that are not dead by then (60) will soon, I think, have to sail for home. Come, let us consult some prophet or priest or some interpreter of dreams (dreams, as you know, are sent by Zeus) and find out from him why Phoebus Apollo is so angry with us. He may be offended at some broken vow or failure in our rites. If so, he may be willing to accept an offering of unblemished sheep and goats and save us from the plague.’
[Day 10] The assembly: Calchas’ revelation
With these words Achilles sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor rose to his feet. As a prophet, Calchas had no rival in the camp. Past, present and future held no secrets from him; and it was his second sight – a gift he owed to Apollo – that had guided the (70) Greek ships to Ilium. He had their interests at heart as he rose and addressed them:
‘Achilles dear to Zeus, you have instructed me to account for the anger of lord Apollo the Archer-god; and I will do so. But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me. I ask this of you, being well aware that I am about to infuriate a man whose authority is great among us and whose word is law to all the (80) Greeks. An ordinary mortal is no match for anyone in authority he angers. Even if his superior swallows his anger for the moment, he will still nurse his grievance till the day when he can settle the account. Consider, then, whether you can guarantee my safety.’
Swift-footed Achilles replied and said:
‘Put your mind at rest and tell us everything you have learnt from the god. For by Apollo son of Zeus, the very god to whom you pray, Calchas, when you reveal your prophecies – I swear that as long as I am alive and look on the earth, not one of all the Greeks here by the hollow ships will raise a fist against you, (90) not even if the man you mean is Agamemnon, who now claims to be far the best of all.’
Then the matchless prophet took heart and said:
‘Apollo has found no fault with any broken vows or failures in our rites. Agamemnon insulted his priest, did not free his daughter and refused the ransom – that is why Apollo made us suffer and will continue to do so. He will not release us from this loathsome plague till we give the dark-eyed girl back to her father, without recompense or ransom, and send a sacred (100) offering to the priest’s town of Chryse. Appease him like that, and we might persuade him to relen
t.’
With these words Calchas sat down, and the warrior son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, leapt up, enraged. His heart seethed with fury, and his eyes were like flames of fire. With a menacing look he spoke first to Calchas:
‘Prophet of evil, never yet have you said a word to my advantage. It’s always trouble you revel in predicting. Not once have you delivered a positive prophecy – not once! And now you hold forth as the army’s prophet, telling the Greeks that the (110) Archer-god Apollo is persecuting them because I refused the splendid ransom for the girl Chryseis. And why? Because I wanted to have her at home myself. Indeed, I like her better than my wife Clytaemnestra. Chryseis is quite as beautiful and no less clever or skilful with her hands.
‘Still, I am willing to give her up, if that appears the better course. I want my army alive and well, not dead or dying. But give me another prize at once or I will be the only one of us (120) without one. That cannot be right. You can all see for yourselves that the prize I was given is on its way elsewhere.’
The argument over prizes
Swift-footed godlike Achilles replied:
‘Most glorious Agamemnon, unequalled in your greed, where will the great-hearted Greeks find you a fresh prize? I have yet to hear of any store of common property we have laid by. The plunder we took from captured towns has been distributed. It cannot be right to ask the men to reassemble that. No: give the girl back now, as the god demands, and we will compensate you three, four times over, if Zeus ever allows us to sack this Trojan town with its fine walls.’
(130) Lord Agamemnon replied and said:
‘You are a great warrior, godlike Achilles, but don’t imagine you can trick me into that. I am not going to be outmanoeuvred or persuaded by you. ‘‘Give up the girl’’, you say, in order to keep your own prize safe. Do you expect me to sit tamely by, while I am robbed? No: if the army is prepared to give me a fresh prize, they must choose one to my taste to make up for my loss. If not, I shall come and help myself to your prize, or Ajax’s, or maybe I shall walk off with Odysseus’. And what an angry man I shall leave behind me!
(140) ’However, we can deal with all that later. For the moment, let us run a black ship down into the bright sea, carefully select her crew, load the animals for sacrifice and put the girl herself, fair-cheeked Chryseis, on board. And let some adviser be in charge, Ajax, Idomeneus, godlike Odysseus, or you yourself, Achilles, most impetuous of all Greeks, to offer the sacrifice and win us back Apollo’s favour.’
Achilles threatens to return home
Swift-footed Achilles gave him a black look and replied:
(150) ‘You shameless, self-centred ... ! How can you expect any of the men to comply with you willingly when you send them on a raid or into battle? It was no quarrel with Trojan warriors that brought me here to fight. They have never done me any harm. They have never lifted oxen or horses of mine, nor ravaged my crops back home in fertile Phthia, nurse of warriors. The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us.
‘We joined your expedition, you shameless swine, to please you, to get satisfaction from the Trojans for Menelaus and (160) yourself, dog-face – a fact you utterly ignore. And now comes this threat from you, of all people, to rob me of my prize, in person, my hard-earned prize which was a tribute from the army. It’s not as though I am ever given a prize equal to yours when the Greeks sack some prosperous Trojan town. The heat and burden of the fighting fall on me, but when it comes to dealing out the spoils, it is you that takes the lion’s share, leaving me to return to my ships, exhausted from battle, with some pathetic portion to call my own.
‘So, I shall now go back home to Phthia. That is the best thing (170) I can do – to sail home with my beaked ships. I can see no point in staying here to be insulted, while I pile up wealth and luxuries for you.’
Agamemnon dismisses Achilles
Agamemnon lord of men replied:
‘Run for it, then, by all means, if that’s the way you feel. I am not going down on bended knees to entreat you to stay here on my account. There are others with me who will treat me with respect, and Zeus wise in counsel is first among them. Of all the Olympian-bred lords here, you are the most hateful to me. Rivalry, war, fighting – these are the breath of life to you. If you are a great warrior, it is because the god made you so. Go home now with (180) your ships and your men-at-arms and rule your Myrmidons. I have no interest in you whatsoever. Your resentment leaves me cold.
‘But here is a threat: in the same way as Phoebus Apollo is robbing me of Chryseis, whom I propose to send off in my ship with my crew, I will come in person to your hut and take away fair-cheeked Briseis, your prize, Achilles, to let you know how far I am your superior and to teach others to shrink from claiming parity with me and playing the equal to my face.’
So he spoke, and his words infuriated Achilles. In his manly (190) chest, his heart was torn whether to draw the sharp sword from his side, thrust his way through the crowd and disembowel Agamemnon, or control himself and check his angry impulse. These thoughts were racing through his mind, and he was just drawing his great sword from his sheath when Athene came down from the skies. The goddess white-armed Hera had sent her because she felt equally close to both men and was concerned for them.
Athene stood behind Achilles and seized him by his auburn hair. No one but Achilles was aware of her; the rest saw nothing. (200) Achilles was amazed. He swung round, recognized Pallas Athene at once – so wonderful was the light from her eyes – and spoke winged words:
ATHENE prevents Achilles killing Agamemnon
‘Why have you come here this time, daughter of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud? Is it to witness Agamemnon’s humiliating affront? I tell you bluntly and, believe me, I mean it: he stands to pay for this insolence with his life.’
The goddess grey-eyed Athene replied:
‘I came from the skies to cool your fury, if you will listen to me. The goddess white-armed Hera sent me because she feels (210) equally close to both of you and is concerned for you. Come now, give up this quarrel and take your hand from your sword. Insult him with words instead and tell him what you mean to do. I tell you bluntly and I do mean it: the day shall come when splendid gifts three times as valuable as what you have now lost will be laid at your feet because of that humiliating affront. Hold your hand, then, and do as we tell you.’
Swift-footed Achilles replied and said:
‘Goddess, a man must respect what you and Hera say, however angry he may be. Better for him if he does. The gods listen to the man who goes along with them.’
(220) He spoke, placed his heavy hand on the silver hilt, drove the long sword back into its scabbard and complied with Athene, who then set out for Olympus and the palace of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud, where she rejoined the other gods.
Not that Achilles curbed his anger. He rounded bitterly on Agamemnon and said:
‘You drunkard, you, with your eyes of a dog and heart of a doe! You never have the courage to arm yourself and go into battle with the men, let alone join the pick of the Greeks in an ambush – you’d sooner die. It suits you better to remain in (230) camp, walking off with the prizes of anyone who contradicts you – a leader who grows fat on his own people! But then, you rule over nobodies: otherwise, son of Atreus, this outrage would prove your last.
‘But I tell you bluntly, and I am going to take a solemn oath on this staff in my hands. Once cut from its stem in the hills, it can never put out leaves or twigs again. The bronze axe stripped it of its bark and foliage: it will sprout no more. The men who in the name of Zeus safeguard our traditions now hold it when they give judgement. By this I solemnly swear that the day is (240) coming when the Greeks one and all will miss Achilles badly, and you in your despair will be powerless to help them as they fall in their multitudes to man-slaying Hector. Then you will tear your heart out in remorse for giving no respect to the best of the Greeks.’
So spoke the son of Peleus, flung down the staff with its go
lden studs and resumed his seat, leaving Agamemnon thundering at him from the other side. But Nestor now leapt up, eloquent Nestor, the clear-voiced orator from Pylos whose speech flowed sweeter than honey off his tongue. He had already seen two (250) generations of men born, grow up and die in sacred Pylos, and now he ruled the third. He had their interests at heart as he rose and addressed them:
Nestor’s reconciliation fails
‘What can I say? This is indeed enough to make Greece weep! How happy Priam and his sons would be, how all the Trojans would rejoice, if they could hear you at each other’s throats, you, the two best Greeks when it comes to giving advice and fighting!
(260) ’Now listen to me. You are both my juniors. What’s more, I have mixed in the past with even better men than you and never failed to carry conviction with them, the finest men I have ever seen or shall see, men like Peirithous and Dryas shepherd of the people, Caeneus, Exadius, godlike Polyphemus and Aegeus’ son Theseus, a man like the gods. These Lapiths were the strongest men that earth has bred, the strongest men who pitted themselves against the strongest enemies – the mountain-dwelling Centaurs, whom they violently destroyed. These were the men (270) I left my home in Pylos to join. I travelled far to meet them – they invited me, personally – and I fought my own campaign. Not a soul on earth today could live with those men in battle -and they listened to what I said and followed my advice. You two do the same. It’s for your own good to go along with what I tell you.