Homer · a new plain-English translation from the Greek
Dawn rose in her saffron robe from the streams of Ocean, bringing light to gods and mortals alike, and Thetis came down to the ships bearing the god's gifts. She found her dear son lying fallen across Patroclus, weeping bitterly, and around him his many comrades mourned. The shining goddess stood among them, took his hand in hers, and spoke his name.
"My child, grievous as it is, we must let this man lie as he is — he was brought down first by the will of the gods. But you, take from Hephaestus these splendid armor, so fine that no man has ever worn the like on his shoulders."
So the goddess spoke, and set the armor down before Achilles, and all its cunning work rang out. Fear seized every one of the Myrmidons; none dared look it in the face, but shrank back. Achilles alone, when he saw it, felt his fury swell higher, and his eyes blazed beneath his lids like a burst of fire. He held the god's glorious gift in his hands and rejoiced. And when he had feasted his heart on gazing at the fine work, at once he spoke winged words to his mother.
"Mother, the god has given me armor fit for the work of the immortals — no mortal man could have made it. Now I will arm myself for war. But I am dreadfully afraid that meanwhile flies will settle in the wounds cut by bronze in Menoetius's brave son, breed worms there, defile his body — for the life has been struck out of him — and all his flesh will rot."
Then the silver-footed goddess Thetis answered him: "Child, do not let this trouble your heart. I myself will try to keep off from him the fierce swarms that devour men killed in battle. Even should he lie here a full year's turn, his flesh will stay sound the whole while, or even better than it is now. But you — call the Achaean warriors to assembly, renounce your anger against Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, and arm yourself for war at once, and put on your strength."
So she spoke, and filled him with bold courage, and into Patroclus she let fall ambrosia and red nectar, drop by drop, through his nostrils, so that his flesh would stay sound.
And godlike Achilles strode along the shore of the sea, crying out a terrible cry, and roused the Achaean warriors. Even those who before had always stayed among the ships — the helmsmen who held the steering-oars, and the stewards who stayed by the ships handing out food — even these now came to the assembly, since Achilles had appeared, after so long a time away from grim battle. Two men came limping, leaning on their spears, servants of Ares still nursing painful wounds — Diomedes son of Tydeus, steadfast in battle, and godlike Odysseus — and they went and sat down in the front of the gathering.
Last of all came the lord of men, Agamemnon, himself carrying a wound, for Coon son of Antenor had struck him with his bronze-tipped spear in the thick of the fighting. When all the Achaeans had gathered together, swift-footed Achilles rose among them and spoke:
"Son of Atreus, was it truly better for either of us — for you or for me — that we two, our hearts eaten with grief, quarreled in soul-devouring strife over a girl? I wish Artemis had struck her down with an arrow among the ships on the day I took her for my own, when I destroyed Lyrnessus. Then so many Achaeans would not have bitten the vast earth at the hands of the enemy, while I stayed apart in my anger. It was Hector and the Trojans who profited from that; and I think the Achaeans will long remember this quarrel of yours and mine. But let us let the past be past, grievous as it is, and master the heart in our chests, since we must. Now I am putting away my anger — it is not right to rage on forever without end. Come, quickly rouse the long-haired Achaeans to battle, so that I may go out again and test the Trojans, and see whether they still wish to spend the night by the ships. I think there is more than one among them who will be glad to bend the knee, whoever escapes the deadly fighting under my spear."
So he spoke, and the well-greaved Achaeans rejoiced that the great-hearted son of Peleus had renounced his anger. Then the lord of men, Agamemnon, spoke among them, from where he sat, without rising to stand in their midst.
"Friends, Danaan warriors, servants of Ares — it is good to listen to a man standing, and it is not fitting to interrupt him — that is hard even for a skilled speaker. In a great crowd of men, how could anyone hear or be heard? Even a clear-voiced speaker is hindered by the noise. I will make my case to the son of Peleus, but let the rest of you Argives listen, and each of you take my words well to heart.
"Many times the Achaeans have said this to me, and blamed me for it — yet I am not to blame, but Zeus, and Fate, and the Fury who walks in mist, who in the assembly cast a savage blindness on my mind, on the day I myself took Achilles's prize from him. But what could I do? A god brings all things to their end. Ruin, eldest daughter of Zeus, who blinds all men — accursed she is. Her feet are delicate; she never touches the ground, but walks over the heads of men, doing them harm, and traps one or another in her snare.
"Once she blinded even Zeus himself, though he is said to be greatest of gods and men. Even him Hera tricked, woman that she is, with her cunning treachery, on the day when Alcmene was to bear the mighty Heracles in well-crowned Thebes. Zeus stood then and boasted before all the gods: 'Hear me, all you gods and goddesses, while I tell you what the heart in my chest bids me say. This day Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth pangs, will bring into the light a man who will rule over all his neighbors — one of the race of men who spring from my own blood.'
"Then, with cunning intent, queenly Hera spoke to him: 'You will prove a liar, and you will not accomplish this word after all. Come now, Olympian, swear me a strong oath — swear that the man born this day, who falls between a woman's feet, of the men who come from your own blood-line, shall indeed rule over all his neighbors.'
"So she spoke, and Zeus, suspecting nothing of her trick, swore the great oath — and afterward was greatly blinded by it. For Hera darted away, left the peak of Olympus, and quickly came to Argos of the Achaeans, where she knew the noble wife of Sthenelus, son of Perseus, was carrying a child. She was in her seventh month, and Hera brought the child into the light before its time, though it was too early, and stopped Alcmene's labor, holding back the goddesses of childbirth.
"Then she went herself and brought the news to Zeus, son of Cronus: 'Father Zeus, lord of the bright thunderbolt, I have a word to put in your heart. A noble man has now been born who will rule over the Argives — Eurystheus, son of Sthenelus, son of Perseus, of your own blood. It is no shame for him to be lord of the Argives.'
"So she spoke, and sharp grief struck Zeus deep in his heart. At once he seized Ruin by her bright-braided hair, raging in his mind, and swore a mighty oath that never again should Ruin, who blinds all men, come to Olympus and the starry heaven. So he spoke, and whirled her in his hand and flung her down from the starry sky, and she came quickly to the works of men.
"Zeus always groaned over her when he saw his own dear son laboring at some shameful task set by Eurystheus. And so it was with me — whenever great Hector of the flashing helm was destroying the Argives by the sterns of our ships, I could not forget Ruin, who blinded me from the start. But since I was blinded, and Zeus took my wits from me, I am willing now to make amends, and to give boundless recompense. Rouse yourself for battle, and rouse the rest of your men as well. As for gifts, I am ready to give you all that godlike Odysseus promised in your tent yesterday. Or, if you wish, wait a while, eager as you are for battle, and my attendants will bring the gifts from my ship, so that you may see with your own eyes what I mean to give you, gifts to warm your heart."
Then swift-footed Achilles answered him: "Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men, Agamemnon — whether you wish to give me these gifts, as is fitting, or to keep them, is up to you. But now let us turn our minds to battle at once. We should not waste time chattering here, nor delay — there is still great work left undone. Let every man see Achilles again among the front ranks, cutting down the Trojan ranks with his bronze spear. Let each of you remember to fight his man in the same spirit."
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him: "Not so, brave as you are, godlike Achilles — do not send the sons of the Achaeans against Troy to fight the Trojans while they are still fasting, for the battle will not be a short one, once the ranks of men meet and a god breathes fury into both sides. Instead, tell the Achaeans to take their fill of bread and wine beside the swift ships — for that is strength, that is courage.
"No man can fight on, facing the enemy, all day until sundown, if he goes without food. Even if his heart is eager for war, his limbs grow heavy without his knowing it, and thirst and hunger overtake him, and his knees fail as he walks. But the man who has had his fill of wine and food, and fights the enemy the whole day through, keeps a bold heart in his chest, and his limbs do not tire until all draw back from the fighting.
"Come then, dismiss the army and order them to prepare their meal. And let the lord of men, Agamemnon, bring the gifts to the middle of the assembly, so that all the Achaeans may see them with their own eyes, and your heart may be glad. Let him stand up among the Argives and swear an oath that he never went up into her bed nor lay with her, as is right and just, whether for a man or a woman. And let your own heart within you be softened, and be at peace. Then afterward let him make amends to you with a rich feast in his tent, so that you lack nothing that is your due. And you, son of Atreus, will be more just to others hereafter too — no one holds it against a king when he makes amends to a man he wronged first."
Then the lord of men, Agamemnon, answered him: "I am glad, son of Laertes, to hear these words of yours — you have gone through everything rightly and set it out well. This oath I am willing to swear, and my heart bids me to; I will not swear falsely before the god. But let Achilles wait here a while, eager as he is for battle, and let the rest of you all wait together, until the gifts come from my tent and we cut the sacrifice to seal our oaths.
"And to you yourself I give this charge and command: choose the finest young men of all the Achaeans, and bring the gifts from my ship — all that we promised yesterday to give Achilles — and bring the women too. And let Talthybius quickly prepare a boar for me among the wide camp of the Achaeans, to sacrifice to Zeus and to Helios."
Then swift-footed Achilles answered him: "Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men, Agamemnon — it would be better to see to these matters at some other time, whenever there comes a pause in the fighting, and the fury in my chest is not so great as now. As it is, the men who fell lie there torn by Hector, son of Priam, when Zeus gave him glory — and you two urge us on to eating! No, I say let the sons of the Achaeans go into battle now, fasting, without food, and only when the sun goes down shall we prepare a great supper, once we have avenged this outrage. Until then, no food or drink shall pass down my throat, not while my comrade lies dead,
cut apart by sharp bronze, lying in my tent, turned toward the doorway, with my companions mourning around him. Such things are far from my mind now — only slaughter and blood and the harsh groaning of men."
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him: "Achilles, son of Peleus, far the greatest of the Achaeans — you are stronger than I am, and better by no small measure with the spear, but I could outmatch you by far in judgment, since I was born before you and know more of the world. So let your heart submit to my words.
"Men grow quickly weary of battle, when the bronze pours down the most stubble on the ground and the harvest is scantiest, once Zeus tips the scale — Zeus, who is the steward of men's wars. It is not right for the Achaeans to mourn the dead with their bellies — too many fall, thick and fast, day after day; when would anyone catch his breath from labor? No, we must bury whoever dies, and steel our hearts, weeping for one day only; but all who are left over from the hateful fighting
must remember food and drink, so that we may fight the enemy still more, without rest, forever, clothed in tireless bronze. Let no man hold back, waiting for some other summons to arms — this very summons will bring harm to whoever is left behind by the ships. No, let us all rush forward together and rouse sharp Ares against the horse-taming Trojans."
He spoke, and took with him the sons of glorious Nestor, and Meges son of Phyleus, and Thoas, and Meriones, and Lycomedes son of Creon, and Melanippus,
and they went their way to the tent of Agamemnon, son of Atreus. At once, as the word was spoken, the deed was done: seven tripods they carried out of the tent, all that he had promised him, and twenty gleaming cauldrons, and twelve horses; and they quickly led out the women skilled in fine handwork, seven of them, and the eighth was fair-cheeked Briseis. And Odysseus weighed out ten full talents of gold and led the way, while the other chosen young Achaeans carried the rest of the gifts behind him.
These they set down in the middle of the assembly, and Agamemnon stood up, while Talthybius, whose voice rang like a god's, stood by the shepherd of the people holding the boar in his hands. The son of Atreus drew with his hands the knife that always hung beside the great sheath of his sword, and cutting first hairs from the boar, lifted his hands to Zeus and prayed, while all the Argives sat in silence in their places, listening to their king as was fitting. And praying he spoke, looking up at the wide heaven:
"Let Zeus be my witness first, highest and best of gods, and Earth, and the Sun, and the Furies, who beneath the earth take vengeance on men who swear a false oath — that I never laid a hand on the girl Briseis, neither on the pretext of her bed nor for any other cause, but she remained untouched in my tent. And if any word of this oath is false, may the gods give me griefs in full measure, all that they give to those who sin and swear falsely."
So he spoke, and cut the boar's throat with the pitiless bronze. Talthybius swung the body and flung it into the great depths of the gray sea, food for the fish. Then Achilles rose and spoke among the war-loving Argives: "Father Zeus, truly you give men great blindness of mind —
never otherwise would the son of Atreus have stirred such wrath in my chest, nor stubbornly taken the girl against my will — no, some purpose of Zeus must have willed death for many of the Achaeans. But now, go to your meal, so that we may join battle at last."
So he spoke, and broke up the assembly quickly. The men scattered, each to his own ship, but the great-hearted Myrmidons took charge of the gifts and carried them off to the ship of godlike Achilles. They set them down in the tents and seated the women there, while the proud attendants drove the horses off to the herd.
Then Briseis, like golden Aphrodite herself, when she saw Patroclus lying there torn by sharp bronze, threw herself upon him and cried out shrilly, tearing with her hands at her breast, her soft throat, and her lovely face. And the woman, like a goddess, spoke through her tears:
"Patroclus, dearest to my wretched heart of all men — I left you alive when I went from this tent, and now I find you dead, O leader of men, when I return. So evil always follows evil for me.
The man to whom my father and honored mother gave me, I saw torn by sharp bronze before our city, and my three brothers, whom the same mother bore with me, dear to me all, met their day of doom together. Yet you would not let me weep, when swift Achilles killed my husband and sacked the city of godlike Mynes — you told me instead that you would make me the wedded wife of godlike Achilles, that he would carry me on his ships to Phthia, and hold a wedding feast among the Myrmidons. So I weep for you now without end, since you were always gentle to me, and now you are dead."
So she wept, and the women groaned around her — for Patroclus, they said, but each mourned her own sorrow besides. The old men of the Achaeans gathered about Achilles, begging him to eat, but he refused them, groaning:
"I beg you, if any of my dear companions will listen to me, do not urge me to fill my heart with food or drink — a terrible grief has come over me. I will hold out until the sun goes down, and endure it as I must."
So he spoke, and sent the other kings away, but the two sons of Atreus stayed, and noble Odysseus, Nestor, Idomeneus, and old Phoenix the horseman, trying with all their care to comfort him in his grief. But his heart would not be comforted, not until he plunged his mouth into the bloody mouth of war. Remembering, he groaned heavily and cried out:
"There was a time, my poor unlucky friend, dearest of all my companions, when you yourself, quick and eager, set out a good meal for me in this hut, whenever the Achaeans hurried to carry tearful war against the horse-taming Trojans. But now you lie here torn open, and my heart goes without food and drink, though both are here within reach, longing for you. Nothing worse could happen to me — not even news that my own father has died, he who now, I suppose, sheds soft tears back in Phthia for lack of a son like me, while I fight the Trojans in a foreign land for the sake of hateful Helen — nor even news of the son I am raising on Scyros, if godlike Neoptolemus is still alive. For until now my heart hoped that I alone would perish far from the horse-pastures of Argos, here in Troy, and that you would return home to Phthia, and in your swift black ship bring my son out of Scyros, and show him everything — my possessions, my slaves, my great high-roofed house. For by now I think Peleus has either died outright, or else still lives on a little, worn down by hateful old age, and always waiting for the grim news that I too have died."
So he spoke, weeping, and the old men groaned in answer, each remembering what he himself had left behind in his own halls. And seeing them mourning like this, the son of Cronus took pity, and quickly spoke winged words to Athena:
"My child, have you truly abandoned this good man altogether? Does Achilles no longer concern you at all? There he sits before the high-horned ships, mourning his dear companion, while all the others have gone off to eat, and he alone goes without food or drink. Go now, drop nectar and sweet ambrosia into his chest, so that hunger does not overtake him."
So speaking he spurred on Athena, who was already eager, and she, like a shrill-crying hawk with long wings outstretched, shot down from heaven through the bright air. At once the Achaeans armed themselves throughout the camp, and Athena dropped nectar and sweet ambrosia into Achilles' chest, so that joyless hunger would not weaken his knees, and then went back to the strong-built house of her mighty father, while the Achaeans poured out from their swift ships.
And just as thick snowflakes fly down from Zeus, cold beneath the blast of the clear-sky North Wind, so now, thick and gleaming, helmets streamed out from the ships, and shields bossed with bronze at their centers, and breastplates with their strong metal plates, and ashwood spears. The gleam reached the sky, and all the earth around laughed with the flash of bronze, and a thunder rose beneath the feet of the men.
And in their midst noble Achilles armed himself. His teeth ground together, his two eyes blazed like the glare of fire, and into his heart sank unbearable grief; raging now against the Trojans, he put on the god's gifts, which Hephaestus had labored to make for him. First he fastened the greaves about his shins, fine ones, fitted with silver ankle-guards. Next he put the breastplate on around his chest. Over his shoulders he slung the bronze sword, studded with silver, and then he took up the great, heavy shield, which cast a glow around it like the moon.
As when a fire's glare shows itself to sailors far out at sea, a fire burning high in the hills at a lonely sheepfold, and the winds carry the sailors off, unwilling, over the fish-filled sea, far from their friends — so the glare from Achilles' shield, beautiful and finely worked, reached up to the sky.
Then he lifted his heavy helmet and set it upon his head. The horsehair-crested helmet shone like a star, and the golden plumes that Hephaestus had set thick around the crest streamed and swayed. And noble Achilles tested himself in his armor, to see whether it fitted him and his splendid limbs moved freely within it — and it became like wings to him, lifting the shepherd of his people. From its case he drew out his father's spear, heavy, huge, and strong, which no other Achaean could wield; Achilles alone knew how to handle it — the ash spear from Pelion, which Chiron had given to his dear father off the peak of Pelion, meant to be death for heroes.
Meanwhile Automedon and Alcimus busied themselves yoking the horses; they fastened the fine harness-straps about them, threw the bits into their jaws, and drew the reins back tight to the joined chariot-rail. Automedon took the bright whip, fitted well to his hand, and leapt up onto the chariot; behind him Achilles mounted too, armed and blazing in his gear like radiant Hyperion, and shouted terribly to his father's horses:
"Xanthus and Balius, famous children of Podarge, this time see that you bring your charioteer back safe to the ranks of the Danaans, once we have had our fill of battle — don't leave him there dead, the way you left Patroclus."
And from beneath the yoke, swift-footed Xanthus answered him, suddenly dipping his head so that his whole mane spilled out of the yoke-pad and touched the ground — for white-armed Hera had given him a human voice:
"Yes, mighty Achilles, we will still keep you safe for now. But your day of death is near, and it is not our fault, but a great god and strong Fate. It was not through our slowness or sluggishness that the Trojans stripped the armor from Patroclus' shoulders, but the best of the gods, whom fair-haired Leto bore, killed him among the front fighters and gave the glory to Hector. We two could run as fast as the breath of the West Wind, which they say is the swiftest of all winds — but it is fated for you yourself to be brought down by force, by a god and by a man."
When he had said this, the Furies stopped his voice. Deeply troubled, swift-footed Achilles answered him:
"Xanthus, why do you prophesy my death to me? There is no need. I know well enough myself that it is my fate to die here, far from my dear father and mother. But even so, I will not stop until I have driven the Trojans to their fill of war."
So he spoke, and shouting, drove his single-hoofed horses forward among the front ranks.