HOMER: ILIAD: BOOK II: THE CATALOGUE OF SHIPS

Introduction:

In this translation piece Sabidius returns to Homer, whose last translated passage, the "Iliad" Book III, he published on 16 December 2012. Previous to that, he had published translations of the "Iliad" Book I on 12 March 2010 and Book VI on 5 June 2012 (See Sabidius.blogspot.com).  

Book II of the "Iliad" commences with Zeus' plan to punish Agamemnon for his mistreatment of Achilles. He sends a false dream, in the apparent shape of Nestor, King of Pylos, Agamemnon's most trusted senior adviser, to assure him that the Gods are now on the side of the Greeks, and that they will very soon be victorious in their campaign against Troy. Agamemnon then seeks to test the resolve of his soldiers by suggesting that they might wish to return home, but, contrary to his hope that this might shame them into wishing to renew the fighting, they appear overjoyed at the thought of going home and race back to their ships. Fortunately for Agamemnon, Odysseus and Nector rouse the Greeks into recovering their martial spirits, and, heartened by a sacrificial feast and by the urgings of the goddess Athene, the Greeks prepare for battle. 

At this point, the narrative ceases and there is featured the long intermission, know as the 'Catalogue of Ships' (ll. 494-759), in which Homer provides his readers with a long and very detailed list of the various Greek contingents which make up Agamemnon's army. In each case, we are told the names of the towns or districts from which they came, together with the leader, or leaders, of each contingent and the number of ships that came with them. The detail involved in this list is truly extraordinary: there are 29 contingents, 175 towns or localities, 44 leaders, and a total of 1,186 ships. The nature of this list, the use of the imperfect tense throughout it, and the insistence on the precise number of ships supplied by each contingent suggest that the genesis of the 'Catalogue of Ships' is in some way separate from the work of the "Iliad" in general, and that it may come originally from Boeotia and the school of Hesiod, Homer's approximate contemporary. Hence, the 'Catalogue' commences with the details of the Boeotian contingent, which has more named towns and leaders than any other even though there is very little reference to the Boeotians and their leaders in the rest of the work. It is also likely that the 'Catalogue' relates to the state of the force of ships drawn up at the Boeotian port of Aulis, from which the whole fleet sets out at the start of the campaign. However, while this list does seem to have been an interpolation inserted into the oral tradition of the 'Iliad' before it was written down for the first time in the middle of the Eighth Century BCE, or perhaps subsequently, it is an invaluable source of evidence about Greece in Late Mycenaean, or Late Bronze Age, times, before the arrival of the Dorians. For instance many towns are listed which were unknown in the classical period, and many famous places and geographical expressions in the classical period are not mentioned at all in the 'Catalogue of Ships', e.g. the Peloponnese, Thessaly, Delphi, Megara; and Thebes does not appear because, according to legend, it had been destroyed during the Mycenaean period. Furthermore, there is no record of any Greek contingents from the west coast of Asia Minor, as the compilation of the 'Catalogue' preceded the Ionian migrations.  

Book II ends with the 'Trojan Catalogue', in which the details of the six Trojan contingents and the ten contingents of their allies, together with the names of their leaders, are also listed. Of the 27 leaders named, as many as 17 are recorded in the "Iliad" as having died, and this high casualty rate does suggest that the 'Trojan Catalogue' was compiled for the work itself, although the geographical information it contains clearly precedes the Ionian migration. It is also of some interest to note that, while the Trojan War is generally described as a war between East and West, or between Asia and Europe, a number of Troy's allies came from European areas to the west of the Hellespont, i.e. Thracians, Cicones and Paeonians (see ll. 844-850 below).

The text for this translation is taken from "Homer: Iliad Books I-XII, edited by M.M. Willcock, Bristol Classical Press, (1978).

Lines 1-34:  Agamemnon's dream. 

Now all the others, both gods and the men who fight from chariots, slept all through the night, but sweet sleep did not take hold of Zeus, but he pondered in his heart how he might honour Achilles and bring death to many beside the ships of the Achaeans. Now this seemed to his mind (to be) the best plan, to send a baneful dream to Agamemnon, son of Atreus; so he spoke, and addressed it with winged words: "Speed thee away, (you) baneful dream, to the swift ships of the Achaeans; and, when you come to the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, tell (him) absolutely everything, exactly as I command (you). Bid him arm with all speed the Achaeans with the long hair on their heads; for now he may take the broad-paved city of the Trojans. For the immortals who have their homes on Olympus no longer think differently (about this matter); for Hera has converted (them) all with her pleas, and woes are bearing down on the Trojans."   

Thus he spoke, and indeed the dream went its way when it heard these words; and it came rapidly to the swift ships of the Achaeans, and went to Agamemnon, son of Atreus; and it found him sleeping in his hut, and heavenly slumber had enveloped (him). And it stood (there) above his head in the likeness of Nestor, son of Neleus, whom of (all) the elders Agamemnon honoured most. Likening itself to him, the dream spoke (thus): "You sleep, son of warlike Atreus, master of horses; it is not fitting for a man to sleep all night who gives counsel, and to whom a host is entrusted and for whom so many (matters) are an object of care; but now hearken quickly unto me, for I am a messenger to you from Zeus, who, although he is far away from you, is full of great concern and compassion (for you). He bids you arm with all speed the Achaeans with the long-hair on their heads; for now you may take the broad-paved city of the Trojans. For the immortals who have their homes on Olympus no longer think differently (about this matter); for Hera has converted (them) all with her pleas, and, by the will of Zeus, woes are bearing down on the Trojans. But keep (this) and do not let forgetfulness take hold of you, when delightful sleep shall release you. "   

Ll. 35-75.  Agamemnon convenes the council of elders. 

So spoke (the dream) and departed, and left him there, contemplating in his heart things which were not about to be accomplished; for, fool (that he was,) he actually thought he would take Priam's city on that very day, although he did not know the deeds which Zeus was intending (to happen); for he was yet on the point of  bringing sorrows and woes upon both the Trojans and the Danaans in the course of this mighty conflict. Then, he awoke from sleep, and the divine voice was (still) ringing in his ears; so, he sat up straight, and donned a soft tunic, fine and new, and cast a large cloak around his shoulders; and he bound fine sandals on his well-oiled feet, and then slung his silver-studded sword around his shoulders; then, he took up the ever imperishable sceptre of his ancestors, (and) with it went his way along the (the line of) the ships of the bronze-clad Achaeans.

Now, the goddess Dawn went up to high Olympus to announce the daylight to Zeus and to the other immortals; but he (i.e. Agamemnon) bade the clear-voiced heralds summon the Achaeans with the long hair on their heads to an assembly; and they summoned them, and they gathered together very quickly. Then, firstly he convened the council of the great-hearted elders beside the ship of Nestor, the king born in Pylos. When he had called them together, he contrived a shrewd plan: "Listen, my friends: a dream from heaven came to me, appearing in my sleep during the ambrosial night; and it most closely resembled noble Nestor, both in form, and in size, and in stature; and so it stood (there) above my head, and spoke these words to me: 'You sleep, son of warlike Atreus, master of horses; it is not fitting for a man to sleep all night, who gives counsel, and to whom a host is entrusted, and (for whom) so many (matters) are an object of care; but now, hearken quickly unto me; for I am a messenger to you from Zeus, who, although he is far away from you, is full of concern and compassion for you. Bid him arm with all speed the Achaeans with the long hair on their heads; for now you may take the broad-paved city of the Trojans. For the immortals who have their homes on Olympus no longer think differently (about this matter); for Hera has converted (them) all with her pleas, and, by the will of Zeus, woes are bearing down on the Trojans. But keep this in your heart!' So it spoke, and went off in flight, and sweet sleep released me. But come (now), (let us see), if we can, by any means, rouse the sons of the Achaeans to arms. But, first, I will try (them) with words, as is our custom, and I will bid them flee with their benched ships; but you, each from his own place,  must seek, with words, to restrain (them from flight)."

Ll. 76-108.  The assembly of the people is convened. 

Now, when he had spoken thus, he (i.e. Agamemnon) sat down, and Nestor, who was king of sandy Pylos, arose among them, and, meaning well, he addressed them, and spoke to (them as follows): "O my friends, leaders and rulers of the Argives, if any other of the Achaeans had recounted this dream (to us), we might think (it) a false (one), and for that reason ignore (it); but now (he) who has seen (it) claims himself to be by far the noblest of the Achaeans. But come (now), (let us see) if we can, by any means, rouse the sons of the Achaeans to arms." 

Thus he spoke, and he started to lead (them) forth from the (place of) council, and the sceptred kings arose and obeyed the shepherd of the people; and the people hurried (after them). As when swarms of closely-packed bees come forth, pouring forth ever anew, and fly in clusters over the flowers of spring, and fly about in a throng this way and that, so many swarms of them (i.e. the Achaeans) marched forward in companies from their ships and huts along the wide beach to the (place of) assembly. Amongst them rumour, the messenger of Zeus, was ablaze, urging them to go forth; and they came together. And the (place of) assembly was in turmoil, and the earth groaned beneath (them) as the people took their seats, and there was a loud commotion; then, nine heralds, crying aloud, sought to restrain them, (to see) if they would ever stop their shouting, and listen to the kings cherished by Zeus. And, with difficulty, the people were made to sit, and they stayed in their seats and ceased their clamour; then, the lord Agamemnon arose, holding his sceptre, in the construction of which Hephaestus had wearied himself. Hephaestus gave (it) to king Zeus, son of Cronos, and then Zeus gave (it) to his servant, the Slayer of Argus, and the lord Hermes gave (it) to Pelops, driver of horses, and Pelops gave (it) in turn to Atreus, shepherd of the people, and, on his death, Atreus left (it) to Thyestes, rich in flocks of sheep, and, in turn, Thyestes left (it) to Agamemnon to bear, as lord of many islands and of all Argos.

Ll. 109-154.  Agamemnon addresses the assembled Greeks.

Leaning thereon (i.e. on his sceptre), he (i.e. Agamemnon) spoke these words among the Argives:  "My friends, Danaan warriors, companions of Ares, Zeus, the mighty son of Cronos, has entangled me in a deep delusion, hard-hearted (as he is,) (he) who previously promised me that I should return home, when I had sacked the strongly fortified Ilium, but now he has planned a cruel trick and bids me return inglorious to Argos, when I have lost (so) many of my people. Such seems to be the pleasure of almighty Zeus, (he) who has overthrown the citadels of many a city, and will yet lay low (others) too; for so great is his might. For this is a shameful (thing) even to be heard by those in the future, how vainly such a brave and so numerous a host of Achaeans waged (so) unprofitable a war, and fought fewer men (than they had themselves), nor was any end yet in sight. For if we, both Achaeans and Trojans, should be so minded to swear sacrificial oaths, and to count up both our numbers, and should the Trojans, as many as have homes (in the city), be gathered together, and we Achaeans be mustered into groups of ten, and each group of ten chooses a man of the Trojans to pour their wine, (then) many would lack a cup-bearer. So much more numerous, I believe, are the sons of the Achaeans than the Trojans, who dwell in the city: but they have allies from many cities, spear-wielding men, who obstruct me greatly, and do not allow (me,) despite my wishes, to sack the well-peopled citadel of Ilium. Nine of great Zeus's years have already gone by, and now the timbers of our ships have rotted and our cables have slackened; and, doubtless, our wives and young children sit in our halls and wait patiently (for us to come home); yet our task, on account of which we came here, is still unaccomplished. But come, let us all obey, as I shall direct: let us run with our ships to our native land, for (there is) no longer (any hope) that we shall take broad-paved Troy."

So he spoke, and roused the hearts in the breasts of all those in the multitude, as many as had not heard (the words of) the council; and the gathering was stirred like the long rollers of the sea, the Icarian high-sea, which the South-East Wind let loose, rushing from the massed clouds of father Zeus. And just as when the West Wind stirs a deep cornfield as it arrives, dashing violently upon (it), and thereupon it sinks down with its ears of corn, so the whole of their gathering was aroused; and, with loud shouting, they rushed towards the ships, and the dust beneath their feet was made to rise up into the air. And they called upon one another to take hold of the ships and draw (them) into the glittering sea, and they cleared the channels; and, in their eagerness (to go) homewards, their shouts went up to heaven; and they took the props from beneath the hulls.

Ll. 155-187.  Athene prompts Odysseus to intervene.  

Then would a return home by the Argives have happened beyond the decrees of fate, if Hera had not spoken a word to Athene: "For shame, Unwearied One, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, are the Argives really going to flee thus homewards to their native land over the sea's broad back, and would they bequeath to Priam and the Trojans, (as) a matter for boasting, Argive Helen, on whose account (so) many (of them) have perished in Troy (so far) from their native land; but go now through the host of the bronze-clad Achaeans; seek to restrain every man with your soothing words, and do not let (them) launch their curved ships into the sea."

So she spoke, nor did the goddess, the flashing-eyed Athene, disobey (her), and she went darting down from the peaks of Olympus, and came speedily to the swift ships of the Achaeans. She found Odysseus standing there, (he who was) equal to Zeus in counsel; nor was he clinging to his well-benched black ship, since grief had come upon his heart and soul, and flashing-eyed Athene stood nearby and said to (him): "Heaven-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles, so then are you (Greeks) really going to tumble into your well-benched ships and run home to your native land, and are you going to bequeath to Priam and the Trojans, (as) a matter for boasting, Argive Helen, on whose account (so) many (of you) have perished in Troy (so far) from your native land? But go now through the host of the Achaeans, and do not hold back any further, and seek to restrain every man with your soothing words, and do not let (them) launch their curved ships into the sea."

So said she, and he recognised the voice of the goddess as she spoke, and he set off at a run, and cast his cloak from (him); and his herald, the Ithacan Eurybates, who accompanied him, picked it up; but he, himself, went straight to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, and received from him the ever imperishable staff of his ancestors; (and) with it he went along beside the ships of the bronze-clad Achaeans.

Ll. 188-223.  Odysseus restrains the Greeks.

Whomsoever he met, a chieftain or a man of note, he stood beside him and restrained (him) with soothing words: "Good sir, it is not befitting (for me) to (try to) alarm you, as though (you were) a coward, but sit yourself down and make the rest of your people sit down; for you do not yet know clearly what (is) the intention of the son of Atreus; now he is testing the sons of the Achaeans, but soon he will chastise (them). And did we not all hear what he said in the council? May he, in his wrath, not do something harmful to the sons of the Achaeans! But great is the heart of a king cherished by Zeus, and his honour comes from Zeus, and Zeus the counsellor loves him.

And again, whatever man of the people he saw and found shouting out, he would strike him with the staff and upbraid (him) with these words: "Fellow! Sit still and hearken to the words of others who are better (men) than you, for you (are) unwarlike and feeble, never to be valued in war or in council! By no means shall we Achaeans all be kings here; a multitude of lords is no good (thing): let there be one ruler, one king, to whom the son of crooked-counselling Cronos (i.e. Zeus) gives his sceptre and the authority to give counsel to his (people)!"

Thus he (i.e. Odysseus) strode through the army in a masterful manner: and they hurried back noisily from their ships and huts, like when a wave of the loud-roaring sea crashes mightily on the shore, and the deep sea roars as well.

Now the others were seated and stayed in their places; yet the chattering Thersites alone went on scolding, and he knew in his mind many disorderly words, so as to revile the kings idly and in an unstructured manner, but (he did say) whatever seemed to him likely to raise a laugh among the Achaeans. He was the ugliest man (who) came up under (the walls of) Ilium: he was bandy-legged and lame in one foot, and his two shoulders were humped up and came together over his chest; and above them there was a pointed head, and a scanty stubble grew thereon. He was especially hateful to Achilles and Odysseus; for he was wont to revile those two. Now again, he rehearsed reproaches against the noble Agamemnon with a shrill cry; and the Achaeans were terribly angry with him (i.e. Thersites) and felt a just indignation in their hearts.

Ll. 224-264.  Odysseus upbraids Thersites.

But, loudly bawling, he (i.e. Thersites) taunts Agamemnon with these words: "What are you bothered about now, son of Atreus, and what (more) do you want? Your huts (are) fill of bronze, and there are many hand-picked women in your hut which we Achaeans are wont to give you as first fruits, whenever we take a citadel. Do you still want the gold which one of the horse-taming Trojans will bring out of Ilium (as) a ransom for his son, whom I, or some other Achaean, have bound and led away; or (do you long for) some young woman (i.e. Chryseis or Briseis), so that you can lie with her in love-making, and whom you keep for yourself far away (from all others). But it does not seem right that one who is a leader should bring such misfortunes (i.e. the pestilence and the absence of Achilles) upon the sons of the Achaeans. O (you) weaklings, (you) shameful cowards, (you) Achaean (women), Achaean (men) no longer, let us, at all events, go homeward with our ships, and let us leave this (man) right here in (the land of) Troy to digest his prizes, so that he may learn whether we too were of use to him, or not; and (he it is) who has now dishonoured Achilles, a far better man than he; for he has taken and keeps his prize, having snatched (her) (i.e. Briseis) himself. But, for sure, there is no anger in the heart of Achilles; but there is a lack of concern. Otherwise, son of Atreus, you would have maltreated (him) for the last time."

Thus spoke Thersites, taunting Agamemnon, shepherd of the host; but noble Odysseus came quickly to stand beside him (i.e. Agamemnon), and looking at him (i.e. Thersites) with a frown he upbraided him with these harsh words: "Reckless-talking Thersites, although you are a very clear speaker, restrain yourself, and do not be minded to strive against kings alone; for I declare that there is no other viler mortal than you (amongst) all those that came with the sons of Atreus (i.e. Agamemnon and Menelaus) up beneath (the walls of) Troy. So now, you keep pouring scorn upon Agamemnon, son of Atreus, the shepherd of the host, because the Danaan warriors give him very many (gifts); but you address (him) with taunts. But I proclaim this to you, and it will also be brought to pass: if I find that you are still playing the fool, as is certainly now the case, then may Odysseus' head no longer be upon his shoulders, nor may I still be called the father of Telemachus, if I do not take hold of you and rip off your garments, both your cloak and tunic, and whatever covers your nakedness, and send (you,) yourself wailing to the swift ships, driving (you) from the assembly with shameful blows."

Ll. 265-300.  Odysseus chastises Thersites, and then addresses the host of the Achaeans.

So he spoke, and smote his back and his shoulders also with his staff; and he doubled up, and a big tear fell from him; and a bloody weal started up from under (the skin on) his back beneath the golden-studded staff; then he sat down and fear came upon him, and, in pain and looking helpless, he wiped away the tear. And, as they were very upset with him, they laughed merrily at him; and thus did (many) a one speak as he glanced at another (person) nearby: "O yes! Odysseus has already wrought countless good (deeds), both initiating good counsels and marshalling (us) for war; but now this (is) by far the best (thing) that he has accomplished among the Argives, in that he has stopped this scurrilous slanderer from speaking. Never, I think, will his bold spirit let him loose again to rail afresh at kings with reproachful words."

So said the multitude; then up stood Odysseus, sacker of cities, holding the sceptre; and at his side bright-eyed Athene, in the likeness of a herald, bade the host keep silent, so that the sons of the Achaeans, both the nearest (to him) and the farthest (away from him) together, could hear his words and take account of his counsel; he addressed them with good intent and spoke (the following words) to (them): "Now indeed, son of Atreus, the Achaeans are minded to make you, (O) king, the most liable to reproach among all mortal men, nor will they fulfil the promise which they certainly made to you, when they were still on their way from Argos, rich in horses, that (they) would (only) return (home) when they had sacked well-fortified Ilium. For, just like young children and widow women, they wail to one another (in their longing) to return home. Surely there is toil enough (here) to send a man home disheartened; for a man who stays away from his wife in his well-benched ship for even a single month may be distressed, even (he) whom winter blasts and the raging sea may confine; for us who remain here the ninth year is reaching its completion. So I do not feel indignant that (you) Achaeans are fretting (here) beside your beaked ships; but, at all events, (it is) a shameful (thing), let me tell you, to remain (somewhere) for a long time, and yet to return (home) empty-handed. (So,) endure, my friends, and abide for a long time, so that we may learn whether Calchas prophesies truly or not."

Ll. 301-335.  Odysseus reminds the Greeks of Calchas' prophesy.

For now do we know this well in our hearts, and you are all witnesses (to it), (that is, those of you) whom the fates of death have not carried off; (it was) but yesterday, or the day before, when the ships of the Achaeans were gathered together in Aulis, bearing woes for Priam and the Trojans, and we were round about a spring offering perfect hecatombs to the immortals beneath a beautiful plane-tree, from which shining water flowed; then, there appeared a great portent: a terrible serpent, (all) blood-red on its back, whom the Olympian himself (i.e. Zeus) had sent forth to the light, darted from beneath the altar and rushed forward to the plane-tree. And in it there were the fledglings of a sparrow, tender children crouched under the leaves on the topmost bough, eight (of them in all), while the mother that bore (them) was the ninth child; then, the (serpent) devoured them as they squeaked piteously; and the mother fluttered around her dear nestlings lamenting; and, coiling itself up, it caught her by the wing as she flew about shrieking. But, when it had devoured the the children of the sparrow and (the sparrow) herself, the god who had surely brought it to light made it invisible; for the son of the crooked-counselling Cronos (i.e. Zeus) turned it to stone. And we all stood there and marvelled at what had been brought about. So when this dread portent of the gods interrupted the hecatomb, then at once did Calchas address us in prophecy: 'Why, (O you) Achaeans with the long hair on your heads, have you become (so) mute? To us has Zeus the counsellor shown this great sign: (though) late (in coming and) late in fulfilment, its fame will never perish. Even as this (serpent) devoured the children of the sparrow and (the sparrow) herself, eight (of them in all), while the mother that bore that bore (them) was the ninth child, so shall we make war here for so many years, but in the tenth, we shall take the broad-paved city.' Thus did he speak; now all these (things) are already being brought to pass. But come, abide here all (you) well-greaved Achaeans, until we shall take the great city of Priam."

So he spoke, and the Argives cried aloud, and (all) around (them) the ships resounded wondrously beneath the shouting of the Achaeans, as they applauded the words of the godlike Odysseus.

Ll. 336-368.  Nestor addresses the assembly.

Then, chariot-driving Nestor of Gerenia spoke to them also: "For shame, you are surely gathered (here) now like childish boys, for whom deeds of war have no importance at all! So what is to become of (all) our covenants and oaths? Then may all those counsels and warriors' plans end up in the fire, as well as all those unmixed libations and pledges, in which we trusted. For just so do we wrangle with words, nor can we find any remedy (for the fact that) we have been here for so long a time. Son of Atreus, do you still keep to your unshaken resolve, and lead the Argives in mighty combat! and those one or two of the Achaeans who scheme apart (from us), let them perish! For no accomplishment will come from them. For (they scheme) firstly to go to Argos before we know whether the promise of aegis-bearing Zeus (is) false or not. For I declare that the most mighty son of Cronos has nodded his head in agreement on that day when the Argives went on board their swift-sailing ships, bearing bloodshed and death to the Trojans, for he flashed his lightning on our right-hand side (i.e. towards the east), (thus) showing (us) favourable signs. Therefore, let no man make haste to depart for home, until each one has lain with the wife of some Trojan as repayment for the struggles and lamentations of Helen, but, if any man desperately wishes to depart for home, let him touch his well-benched black ship, in order that he may meet death and fate in front of the others. But, (O) king, take good decisions yourself, and listen to someone else; whatever word I speak shall not be cast aside by you: divide your men according to their tribes and clans, Agamemnon, so clan aids clan and tribe (aids) tribe. If you do this and the Achaeans obey you, you will then learn who among your captains, and among your men, (is) a coward, and also who is brave; for they will be fighting on their own behalf. And, if you do not take the city, then you will know whether it is through the will of heaven or through the cowardice of men and their folly in war."

 Ll. 369-418. Agamemnon speaks in reply. 

Then, the lord Agamemnon spoke to him in reply: "In very truth, old man, you are pre-eminent in speech among the Achaeans once more. (O) father Zeus, Athene, and Apollo, would that I had ten such counsellors among the Achaeans; then would Priam's city bow down forthwith beneath our hands, having been taken and laid waste. But the son of Cronos, aegis-bearing Zeus, brings me sorrows, in that he plunges me into fruitless strife and conflict. For, indeed, Achilles and I fought over a girl (i.e. Briseis) with opposing words, and I was the first to lose my temper. But, if ever we shall be at one in council, then there will no longer be any respite from evil for the Trojans, (no,) not even for an instant. Now off you go to your dinner, so that we may join together in battle. Let (every) man sharpen his spear well, and prepare his shield well, and let him give good food to his swift-footed horses, and let him look carefully (all) around his chariot, and be mindful of the fight, so that we may measure our strength in dread battle all day long. For not even a moment's rest will intervene, until the coming of night parts the warriors' fury. The strap of (many) a man's body-shield will sweat around his breast, and his hand shall grow weary around his spear; and a man's horse will sweat as it tugs at his polished-metal chariot. But whomever I shall see minded to linger far away from the battle beside the beaked ships, he will not be fated to escape the dogs and the birds of prey."

So he spoke, and the Argives shouted aloud, like when a wave (roars) against a lofty promontory, a headland jutting out (into the sea), when the South Wind comes and sets (it) in motion; and the waves, (aroused) by all sorts of winds, whether they come from this or that direction, never leave it (in peace). And they arose and hastened away, scattering among their ships, and they made fires around their huts, and took their meal. And one (man) made sacrifice (to one) of the ever-living gods, (and another man) to another, praying that they might escape death and the toil of war. Then he, Agamemnon, king of men, sacrificed a fat five year-old bull to the most mighty son of Cronos, and summoned the elders, the chieftains of all the Achaeans: Nestor, first (of all), and king Idomeneus, and then the two Aiantes (i.e. Aias, the son of Telamon, and Aias, the son of Oïleus), and the son of Tydeus (i.e. Diomedes), and also Odysseus, equal to Zeus in counsel, (as) the sixth. And Menelaus, good at the war-cry, came to him of his own accord, for he knew in his heart how troubled his brother was. Then, they stood beside the bull and took up the grains of barley; and lord Agamemnon spoke for them in prayer: "Most glorious, most mighty Zeus, lord of the dark clouds, who dwells in the heavens, let not the sun go down, and the darkness come upon (us), until I have cast down headlong the smoke-begrimed hall of Priam, and have burned its portals with consuming fire, and I have ripped the tunic on Hector's breast into shreds with my bronze (sword); and all around him a host of his comrades, lying face-downwards in the dust, bite the earth with their teeth.

Ll. 419-458. Heartened by the sacrificial feast, the Achaeans recover their desire to fight.

Thus he spoke, but as yet the son of Cronos did not grant him fulfilment, but, while, on the one hand, he accepted the sacrifice, yet, on the other hand, he increased their unenviable toil. So then, when they had prayed and had thrown down the barley-grains (to be sprinkled between the animals' horns), they firstly drew back (their heads) and cut their throats, and (then) flayed (their skin), and cut out the thigh pieces and enveloped (them) with fat, having made (them) into two layers, and laid pieces of raw flesh on top of them. These they completely burned on leafless pieces of wood, and then they fixed the entrails on spits and held (them) over (the flames) of Hephaestus. But, when the two thigh pieces were wholly consumed, and they had tasted the entrails, then they cut up the rest (of the meat) and stuck (it) on spits and roasted (it) carefully, and (then) drew all (the meat) off (the spits). But, when they had ceased from their labour, and had made ready the meal, they feasted, nor did their hearts feel any lack of a sufficient feast. But, when they had satisfied their desire for food and drink, then chariot-driving Nestor of Gerenia began speaking to them: "(O) Agamemnon, son of Atreus, most honoured king of men, now let us not talk to one another here any longer, nor let us put off still further the work which the god has indeed put into our hands. But come, let the heralds summon the host of the bronze-coated Achaeans, and gather (them) together among the ships, and let us go thus as a body through the widespread army of the Achaeans, so that we may the more quickly arouse their enthusiasm for war."

So he spoke, and Agamemnon, king of men, did not disregard his counsel. Straightway, he bade the clear-voiced heralds summon the long-haired Achaeans to battle; and they issued their summons, and the (troops) gathered together with full speed. The kings, cherished by Zeus, and those around the son of Atreus hurried about marshalling (the host), and in their midst (is) the bright-eyed Athene, holding the highly-prized aegis, ageless and immortal, from which hang a hundred tassels of pure gold, all (of them) well-plaited, and each (one) worth a hundred oxen. With it, she sped through the ranks of the Achaeans with a firm stare, urging (them) to go forth; and in the heart of each (man) she roused the unceasing strength to make war and to fight. And at once war became sweeter to them than to sail back in their hollow ships to their native land.

Just as an all-consuming fire makes a boundless forest blaze up on the peaks of a mountain, and the glare is seen from afar, so, as they marched forth, the dazzling gleam from their wondrous bronze (armour) went up through the sky to the heavens.

Ll. 459-483.  The Greeks go forth to battle.

And, as the many tribes of winged fowls, wild geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, (gathered) on the Asian meadows by the streams of the Caÿster, fly hither and thither, exulting in their wings and settling forward with loud cries, and the meadows resound (with the noise), so their many tribes poured forth from their ships and huts on to the plain of the Scamander; then the earth echoed wondrously beneath their feet and their horses' (hooves). And they took their stand on the flowery meadow of the Scamander, as innumerable as are the leaves and the flowers in their season.

Just as the many tribes of swarming flies that wander through the stable of the herd in the season of the spring, when milk fills the pails with liquid, so the long-haired Achaeans stood on the plain facing the Trojans, yearning to destroy (them).

And as goatherds easily separate flocks of goats from one another, when they mingle in the pasture, so did their leaders marshal them hither and thither to go into battle, and in their midst (was) the lord Agamemnon, resembling Zeus, who delights in thunder, in his eyes and head, and Ares in his waist, and Poseidon in his chest. Just as a bullock becomes a bull, (by) standing out far above all (the others) in the herd - for he is pre-eminent among the gathering bullocks - , so did Zeus make the son of Atreus such (a man) on that day, outstanding in the crowd and foremost among the heroes.

THE CATALOGUE OF SHIPS: (Ll. 484-785: the forces of the Greeks.)

Ll. 484-493.  Prooemium: invocation of the Muses.

Tell me now, you Muses, who have your dwellings on Olympus - for you are goddesses and are near at hand and know everything, whereas we hear but a rumour and do not know anything - , who were the leaders of the Danaans and their kings; for I shall not tell of, or name, (those of) the mob, not even if I were to have ten tongues and ten mouths and a tireless voice, and I were to have within me a heart of bronze, unless (you) Muses of Olympus, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, can call to mind all those who came beneath (the walls of) Ilium. On the other hand, I will tell of the captains of the ships, and of the ships in full detail.

(1) The mainland of Greece, south of Thermopylae (Ll. 494-558).

Ll. 494-510.  Boeotia.

Peneleos and Leïtus, Arcesilaus, and Prothoënor and Clonius were the leaders of the Boeotians, and (these were the men) who dwelt in Hyria and rocky Aulis, and Schoenus and Scolus, and mountainous Eteonus, Thespeia and Graea, and spacious Mycalessus, and who lived around Harma and Eilesium and Erythrae, and who held Eleon and Hyle and Peteon, Ocalea and the well-fortified citadel of Medeon, Copae and Eutresis and Thisbe, abounding in doves, and those from Coronea and grassy Haliartus, and (those) who held Plataea and who dwelt in Glisas, and who held the well-fortified stronghold of Lower Thebes, and sacred Onchestus, that bright grove of Poseidon, and (those) who held Arne, rich in vines, and Mideia and holy Nisa and Anthedon on the coast. With these Boeotians there came fifty ships, and in each (one) there sailed a hundred and twenty young men.

Ll. 511-516.  Orchomenus.

Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares, led those who dwelt in Aspledon and Minyan Orchomenus; the honoured maiden Astyoche bore them to mighty Ares in the house of (her father) Actor, son of Azeus, having gone up to her upper chamber: for he lay with her in secret. And for them thirty hollow ships were drawn up in line.

Ll. 517-526.  The Phocians.

Then, Schedius and Epistrophus, sons of great-hearted Iphitus, Naubolus' son, led the Phocians, (and they were the men) who held Cyparissus and rocky Pytho (i.e. Delphi), and sacred Crisa and Daulis and Panopeus, and (those) who lived around Anemoreia and Hyampolis, and then (those) who dwelt beside the heavenly river Cephisus, and who held Lilaea, near the springs of the Cephisus; and forty black ships accompanied them. Then, their (leaders) busied themselves marshalling the ranks of the Phocians, and armed them for battle beside the the Boeotians on their left.

Ll. 527-535.  The Locrians.

And Aias the lesser, the swift (son) of Oïleus, led the Locrians, (he who was) in no way as big as Telemonian Aias, but far smaller (than he); short was he in his linen corselet, but with his spear he (far) surpassed all of the Hellenes and Achaeans; (these were the men) who dwelt in Cynos and Opus and Calliarus, and Bessa and Scarphe, and lovely Augeiae, and Tarphe and Thronium around the streams of the Boagrius. And forty black ships of the Locrians, who dwelt (on the shores) opposite sacred Euboea, accompanied him.

Ll. 536-545.  The Euboeans.

Those Abantes, breathing might, who held Euboea, and Chalcis and Eiretria and vine-rich Histiaea, and Cerinthus on the sea, and the high citadel of Dios, and who held Carystus, and who dwelt in Styra, Elephenor, scion of Ares, son of Chalcodon, (and) chief of the great-hearted Abantes, led them (all) once again. And with him there followed the swift Abantes, who grow their hair at the back (of their heads), spearmen, eager, with their outstretched ashen spears, to rend the corselets about the breasts of their enemies; and forty black ships accompanied him.

Ll. 546-556.  The Athenians.

And then (there were those) who hold the well-fortified citadel of Athens, the land of great-hearted Erechtheus, whom Zeus' daughter Athene once reared and the fruitful earth had borne, and she made (him) settle in Athens, in her own rich sanctuary; and there, as the years revolve, the young men of the Athenians appease him with bulls and rams; again Menestheus, the son of Peteos, led them. For, up to this time, there was not any man upon the earth equal to him for marshalling chariots and shield-bearing warriors; Nestor alone could vie (with him): for he was the elder (man). And fifty black ships accompanied him.

Ll. 557-558.  The Salaminians.

And Aais (i.e. the Greater, son of Telamon) led twelve ships from Salamis, and, as their leader, he stationed (them in the place) where the Athenians' contingent was drawn up.

(2) Middle and Southern Greece, with the islands immediately adjoining (Ll. 559-644).

Ll. 559-568.  Argos.

And (those) who held Argos and well-walled Tiryns, Hermione and Asine, which occupy the deep gulf, Troezen and Eïonae and vine-clad Epidaurus, and the young men of the Achaeans, who held Aegina and Mases, these again Diomedes, good at the war-cry, and Sthenelus, beloved son of the renowned Capaneus, led. And with them there came a third man, godlike Euryalus, son of king Mecisteus, son of Talaus ; but Diomedes, good at the war-cry, led them all. And eighty black ships accompanied them.

Ll. 569-580.  The realm of Agamemenon.

And (they) that held the well-built citadel of Mycenae, and rich Corinth and well-built Cleonae, and dwelt in Orneiae and sweet Araethyrea, and Sicyon, where Adrastus was first king, and (they) that held Hyperesia and lofty Gonoessa and Pellene, and lived around Aegium, and throughout the whole of Aegialus, and around broad Helice, of these (people) lord Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, led a hundred of their ships. With him there followed by far the most numerous and the best force; but among (them) he himself proudly donned his shining bronze (armour), and he stood out among all the warriors, because he was the noblest and led by far the most numerous host.

Ll. 581-590.  The realm of Menelaus.

And (they) that held hollow Lacedaemon, full of ravines, and Pharis and Sparta and Messe, abounding in doves, and that dwelt in lovely Augeiae, and (they) that held Amyclae and the citadel of Helos on the sea, and that held Laas and who lived around Oetylus, of these (people) his brother Menelaus, good at the war-cry, led sixty of their ships; but they were marshalled separately (from the Mycenaeans). And he himself went among (them), persuasive in his zeal and urging (them) into battle: above all, he was yearning in his heart to avenge the toils and sorrows of Helen.

Ll. 591-602. The forces of Nestor.

And (they) that dwelt in Pylos and lovely Arene, and at the ford of Alpheius (at) Thyrum, and well-built Aepy, and lived in Cyparisseïs and Amphigeneia, and Pteleos and Helus, and Dorium, where the Muses met the Thracian Thamyris, as he was going from (the house) of Eurytus the Oechalian, and put an end to his singing; for he boastfully declared that, even if the Muses, themselves, the daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, were to sing (in a contest with him), he would be the victor; but they, in their wrath, made (him) mute and took from him his wondrous singing, and made (him) forget (how) to play the lyre; and, again, the charioteer Nestor of Gerenia led (all) these (men); and with him ninety hollow ships were drawn up in rows.

Ll. 603-614.  The Arcadians.

And (they) that held Arcadia beneath the steep mountain of Cyllene, beside the tomb of Aegyptus, where (there are) men who fight hand-to-hand, and (they) that dwelt in Pheneos and Orchomenus, rich in flocks, and Rhipe and Stratia, and wind-swept Enispe, and held Tegea and lovely Mantinea, and held Stymphalus and dwelt in Parrhasia, prince Agapenor, son of Ancaeus, commanded (all) these (men and) their sixty ships; and on each ship there embarked many Arcadian warriors, skilled in warfare. For Atreus' son, Agamemnon, king of men, had himself given them these well-benched ships to cross over the wine-dark sea, since nautical matters had not been objects of concern to them (previously).

Ll. 615-624.  The Eleans. 

And (they) that lived in Buprasium and heavenly Elis, as far as Hyrmine and Myrsinus on the edge (of the sea) and the rock of Olene and Alesium enclose between (them), of these again there were four leaders, and ten swift ships followed each man, and many Epeians embarked (in them). Amphimachus and Thalpius, grandsons of Actor, sons, the one of Cteatus, and the other of Eurytus, led some of these (men); and the mighty Diores, son of Amarynceus commanded some others, and godlike Polyxeinus, son of king Agasthenes, Augeias' son, was the captain of the fourth (company).

Ll. 625-630.  Dulichium.

And those from Dulichium and the Echinades, the holy islands that lie across the sea opposite Elis, Meges, the peer of Ares, again led these; (he was) the son of Phyleus, whom the charioteer Phyleus, dear to Zeus, begat, and he, angry with his father, had departed to Dulichium some time before; and forty black ships accompanied him.

Ll. 631-637.  The forces of Odysseus.

Now Odysseus led the great-hearted Cephallenians, that is (those) who held Ithaca and Neritos with its quivering foliage, and dwelt in Crocyleia and rugged Aegilips, and (those) who held Zacynthus and who dwelt around Samos, and (those) who held the mainland and dwelt on the opposite coast. Of these Odysseus was captain, (he who was) the peer of Zeus in counsel; and twelve ships with red-painted bows accompanied him.

Ll. 638-644. The Aetolians.

Thoas, the son of Andraemon, led the Aetolians, (those) who dwelt in Pleuron and Olenus, and Pylene, and Chalcis by the sea, and rocky Calydon; for the sons of the great-hearted Oeneus no longer lived, nor was he himself still alive, and golden-haired Meleager was dead. And everything concerning the command of the Aetolians had been laid upon him (i.e. Thoas); and forty black ships accompanied him.

(3) Insular Greece (Ll. 645-680).

Ll. 645-652. The Cretans.

And Idomeneus, famed for his spear, led the Cretans, (those) who held Cnossos and high-walled Gortys, Lyctos and Miletus, and chalk-white Lycastus, and Phaestos and Rhytion, well-populated cities, and all those who dwelt around the hundred cities of Crete. Idomeneus, famed for his spear, led these (men), and also Meriones, the peer of man-slaying Enyalios (i.e. Ares); and eighty black ships accompanied them.

Ll. 653-670.  The Rhodians.

And Tlepolemus, son of Heracles, valiant and tall, led from Rhodes nine ships of the brave Rhodians, (those) who dwelt around Rhodes, arranged into three (divisions): Lindos, and Ialysos and chalk-white Cameiros. Tlepolemus, famed for his spear, led these (men), (he) whom Astyocheia bore to mighty Heracles, whom he had led from Ephyra by means of  the river Selleïs, after he had sacked many cities (full) of vigorous (men) cherished by Zeus. But, when Tlepolemus had reached manhood in the well-built palace (i.e. in Tiryns), he suddenly slew his father's dear uncle, Licymnius, scion of Ares, who had already grown old; and he quickly built ships, and, having gathered many people together, he set out in flight over the sea; for other sons and grandsons of mighty Heracles had threatened him. Yet, in his wanderings he came to Rhodes suffering woes; and (there) they were settled in three clans, and were beloved of Zeus, who is king among both gods and men, and the son of Cronos poured wondrous wealth upon them.

Ll. 671-675.  The forces of Nireus.

Then, Nireus led three well-balanced ships from Syme, Nireus, son of Aglaea and king Charops, Nireus, the most handsome man who came beneath (the walls of) Ilium of all the Danaans after the peerless son of Peleus (i.e. Achilles); but he was feeble and (only) a small force followed him. 

Ll. 676-680.  The Sporades.

And (they) that held Nisyrus and Crapathus, and Casus and Cos, the city of Eurypylus, and the Calydnian isles, these again Pheidippus and Antiphus, the two sons of king Thessalus, son of Heracles, led; and with them thirty hollow ships sailed in column.

(4) Northern Greece (Ll. 681-749).

Ll. 681-694.  The forces of Achilles.

But now all those who inhabited Pelasgian Argos (i.e. what was later to be called Thessaly), and who dwelt in Alos and Alope, and Trachis, and who held Phthia and Hellas, the land of lovely women, and were called Myrmidons and Hellenes and Achaeans, again Achilles was in command of their fifty ships. But they were not mindful of hateful war, for there was no one who could lead them into the ranks (of battle); for the swift-footed godlike Achilles was lying idle among his ships, angry because of the fair-haired maiden Briseïs, whom he had taken from Lyrnessus after much toil, having sacked Lyrnessus and the walls of Thebe, and he had laid low the spear-fighting Mynes and Epistrophus, sons of king Euenus, son of Selepius; grieving for her, he lay idle, but soon he would rise up again.

Ll. 695-710.  The forces of Protesilaus.

And (they) that held Phylace and flowery Pyrasus, the sanctuary of Demeter, and Iton, mother of flocks, and Antron near the sea, and grassy Pteleos, again warlike Protesilaus was their leader, while he was (still) alive; but by this time the dark earth had already claimed (him). His wife, (her face) scratched on both sides, had left Phylace, and their house (remained) half-finished, and a Dardanian warrior slew him as he leapt from his ship, by far the foremost of the Achaeans. But yet they were not in any way leaderless, though they longed indeed for their leader; but Podarces, scion of Ares, son of Iphiclus, rich in flocks, (himself) the son of Phylacus, marshalled them, (he who was) the very own brother of great-hearted Protesilaus, (though) younger by birth, but the warlike warrior Protesilaus (was) the elder and the better (man). Yet the host in no way lacked a leader, though they longed for (the man) who had been (so) noble; and forty black ships accompanied him (i.e. Podarces).

Ll. 711-715.  The kingdom of Eumelus.

(Of those) that dwelt in Pherae beside the Boebean lake, (and in) Boebe and Glaphyrae and well-built Iolcos, Eumelus, the beloved son of Admetus, was in command of their eleven ships, (he) whom Alcestis, a queen among women (and) the most shapely daughter of Pelias, brought to birth through Admetus.

Ll. 716-728.  The forces of Philoctetes.

(Of those) that dwelt in Methone and Thaumica, and Meliboea and rugged Olizon, Philoctetes, well-skilled in archery, was in command of their seven ships; and on every (ship) fifty oarsmen, well-skilled in archery, had embarked, so as to fight with force. But he lay on an island suffering grievous pains, (that is) on sacred Lemnos, where the sons of the Achaeans had left him in anguish with an evil wound from a deadly water-snake; there he lay grieving; but soon the Argives beside their ships would remember king Philoctetes. But yet they were not in any way leaderless; but Medon, bastard son of Oïleus, marshalled (them), (he) whom Rhene had brought to birth through Oïleus, sacker of cities.

Ll. 729-733.  Forces of the Asclepiads.

And (they) that held Tricca and rocky Ithome, and that held Oechalia, city of Oechalian Eurytus, again Podaleirius and Machaon, the two sons of Asclepius, good at healing, led them; and thirty hollow ships followed them in line.

Ll. 734-737.  Forces of Eurypylus.

And (they) that held Ormenia and the Hypereian spring, and who held Asterium and the white crests of Titanus, Eurypylus, Euaemon's splendid son, was their captain; and forty black ships accompanied him.

Ll. 738-747.  The forces of Polypoetes.

And (they) that held Argissa and dwelt in Gyrtone, Orthe and Elone, and the the white city of Oloösson, again Polypoetes, staunch in battle, the son of Peirithoüs, whom immortal Zeus begat, led these (men); (he was the man) whom glorious Hippodameia brought forth through Peirithoüs on the day when he took his revenge on the shaggy centaurs, and thrust (them) from (Mount) Pelion and drove (them) to the Aethices (i.e. on Mount Pindus); (he was) not alone, but with him (was) Leonteus, scion of Ares, son of the high-spirited Coronus, son of Caeneus; and forty black ships accompanied them.

Ll. 748-755.  Aenianians and Perhaebians.

And Guneus led twenty-two ships from Cyphus; and the Aenianians and the steadfast Perhaebians followed him, (those) who built their homes around wintry Dodona, and who dwelt in the filled fields on the banks of the lovely Titaressus, which pours his beautifully-flowing waters into the Peneus, but yet he does not mingle with the silver-eddying Peneus, but flows on top of it like olive-oil; for he is an off-shoot of the waters of the Styx, the dread (river) of oath.

Ll. 756-759.  The Magnesians. 

And Prothous, son of Tenthredon, commanded the Magnesians, (those) who lived around the Peneus and (Mount) Pelion with its quivering foliage; swift Prothous led these (men), and forty black ships accompanied him.

Ll. 760-785. Conclusion of the Catalogue of the Greek forces.

So these were the leaders and lords of the Danaans; but who was by far the best of them, do you tell (me), (O) Muse, (both) of them and of the horses which accompanied the sons of Atreus) (i.e. Agamemnon and Menelaus).

By far the best horses were (those) of the son of Pheres (i.e. Admetus), that Eumelus drove as swift as birds, with the same (colour) hair, of the same age, and like a plumb-line (i.e. straight) across the back; Apollo of the silver bow, had reared them in Pereia, both (of them) mares, conveying the panic of war. Then by far the best of the warriors was Telamonian Aias, as long as Achilles was nursing his wrath; for he (i.e. Achilles) was by far the mightiest, and the horses which bore the peerless son of Peleus (were by far the best). But he lay among his beaked sea-faring ships, full of very great wrath against Agamemnon, son of Atreus, the shepherd of the host. And, by the sea-shore, his men delighted themselves in throwing the discuss, (hurling) javelins and (shooting) arrows. And their horses stood, each by his own chariot, feeding on lotus and marsh-bred parsley, while their chariots lay well covered up in their masters' huts; but the (men), longing for their captain, dear to Ares, went backwards and forwards through the camp and did not fight.

So they marched then, as if the whole earth were consumed by fire; and the earth groaned beneath (them), as it groans beneath Zeus, who, in his wrath, delights in thunder, when he lashes the earth around Typhoeus (i.e. a mighty giant confined by Zeus under a mountain) in the land of the Arimi (i.e. in Cilicia), where they say Typhoeus' couch is situated. Even so, the earth groaned greatly beneath their feet as they went, and very swiftly did they cross the plain.

Ll. 786-815.  The Trojan armies gather.

And to the Trojans (as) a messenger went swift-footed Iris with a grievous message from aegis-bearing Zeus. And they were holding an assembly at Priam's gate, all gathered together, both young men and elders; and swift-footed Iris stood nearby and addressed him (i.e. Priam); and she came with the voice of Polites, son of Priam, who, trusting in his fleetness of foot, was sitting (as) a watchman of the Trojans on the top of the tomb of old Aesyetes, waiting until the Achaeans should sally forth from their ships; likening herself to him, swift-footed Iris spoke (as follows): "O old (sir), endless speeches are always as dear to you as ever in times of peace; but (now) unabating war is let loose (upon you). I have already entered into the battles of warriors very often, but I have never yet seen an army of such quality and so numerous; for (they are) just like leaves or the sands on the sea-shore, as they march across the plain to fight against our city. Hector, to you especially do I give orders, and do you do as I say; for (there are) many allies throughout the great city of Priam, and among such numerous men, one tongue (is) among many others; let each man give the word to those, whom he commands, and, when he has marshalled his fellow-citizens, let him lead them forth (to battle)."

So she spoke, and Hector did not in any way fail to recognise the voice of the goddess, and at once he broke up the assembly; and the whole gate (i.e. the Scaean Gate) was opened, and the people streamed through (it), both footmen and charioteers, and a great din had arisen.

Now, there is a certain steep mound before the city, far away on the plain, freelying in this direction and that, which indeed men call Batieia, but the immortals (call it) the barrow of nimble Myrine (i.e. an Amazon warrior); here then the Trojans and their allies separate (their forces) from one another.

THE TROJAN CATALOGUE: (Ll. 816-877.)

(1)  The Trojan leaders and their contingents from Troy and the Troad. (Ll. 816-843.)

Ll. 816-818.  The city of Troy itself.

The mighty Hector of the flashing helmet, son of Priam, was leading the Trojans; with him indeed by far the largest and the best hosts armed themselves, eager for the fray.

Ll. 819-823.  The Dardanians.

Moreover, Aeneas, the valiant son of Anchises, was captain of the Dardanians, (he) whom most divine Aphrodite brought forth through Anchises, the goddess having lain with a mortal (man) on the slopes of (Mount) Ida; nor (was he) alone, for with him (were) the two sons of Antenor, Archelochus and Acamas, well-skilled in every type of fighting.

Ll. 824-827.  Trojans living under Mount Ida.

And (they) that inhabited Zeleia, beneath the lowest foothill of (Mount) Ida, (men) of wealth, who drink the dark waters of the Aesepus, Trojans (all), again Pandarus, the glorious son of Lycaon, to whom even Apollo himself gave a bow, commanded these (men).

Ll. 828-834.  Adresteia and other towns.

And (they) that held Adresteia and the land of Apaesus, and (that) held Pityeia and the steep mountain of Tereia, these (men) Adrastus and Amphius, in his linen corselet, commanded, (they who were) the two sons of Merops of Percote, who was, above all (men), skilled in the art of divination, and would not permit his sons to go into murderous warfare; but the two of them would not in any way obey (him); for the fates of black death were leading (them) on.

Ll. 834-839.  Cities on the shores of the Hellespont.

And then (there were those) who dwelt around Percote and Practius, and held Sestus and Abydus, and sacred Arisbe, again Asius, son of Hyrtacus, a leader of men, captained these (men) - Asius, son of Hyrtacus, whom big fiery horses had borne from Arisbe (and) from the river Selleïs.

Ll. 840-843.  Pelasgians from Larissa.

And Hippothous led the tribes of the spear-fighting Pelasgians, those that dwelt in very fertile Larissa; Hippothous and Pylaeus, scion of Ares, the two sons of Pelasgian Lethus, son of Teutamus, commanded these (men).

(2) The Allies of the Trojans (Ll. 844-877). 

Ll. 844-850.  From Europe.

Then, Acamas and the warrior Peirous led the Thracians, as many as the fast-flowing Hellespont encloses.

And Euphemus was the captain of the Ciconian spearmen, (he who was) the son of Ceas' son, Troezenus, cherished by Zeus.

Then, Pyraechmes led the Paeonians with their curved bows from afar, out of Amydon and the wide-flowing Axius, the Axius, whose water (is) the most beautiful (that) spreads over the earth.

Ll. 851-857.  From north-east of Troy, on the south shore of the Black Sea.


The shaggy-breasted Pylaemenes led the Paphlagonians from (the land of) the Enetians, from where (comes) the breed of wild mules, that is (those) that held Cytorus and dwelt around Sesamus, and lived in their famous houses around the river Parthenius, and Cromna and Aegialus, and lofty Erythini. 
     
But Odius and Epistrophus led the Halizones from distant Alybe, where there is a silver mine.

Ll. 858-863.  From south-east of Troy, from north-central Asia Minor.

And Chromis and the augur Ennomus captained the Mysians, but he (i.e. Ennomus) did not ward off black fate by his auguries, but was slain at the hands of the swift-footed grandson of Aeacus (i.e. Achilles) in the river, just where he killed other Trojans too.

Again, Phorcus and godlike Ascanius led the Phrygians from distant Ascania; and they yearned to fight in (the press of) battle.

Ll. 864-877.  From south of Troy, from the west coast of Asia Minor.

Again, Mesthles and Antiphus, the two sons of Talaemenes, (whom the nymph of) the Gygean lake had brought to birth, led the Maeonians, and they led the Maeonians born beneath (Mount) Tmolus.

Again, Nastes led the foreign-sounding Carians, who held Miletus and the mountain of Phthires with its thick foliage, and the streams of the Maeander and the steep crests of (Mount) Mycale. So, Amphimachus and Nastes led these (men) - Nastes and Amphimachus, the splendid sons of Nomion, and he (i.e. Amphimachus) went into battle, bearing (ornaments of) gold like a girl, child (that he was), but he was slain in the river at the hands of the swift-footed grandson of Aeacus, and bold Achilles took possession of his gold.

And Sarpedon and the blameless Glaucus led the Lycians out of distant Lycia from the whirling (currents) of the Xanthus.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A ROMAN BOY

(N.B. This story is dedicated to Hector and Wilbur Metcalfe.)

Chapter 1.  Lucius and Marcus wake up. 

One summer morning, in the year 3 B.C., that is seven hundred and fifty years after the foundation of Rome, twelve year old Lucius awakes in his bedroom in a comfortable mansion in the High Street, which runs through the north-west of the city towards the famous Colline Gate. It is still dark, but Lucius has woken in response to a gentle nudge from the family servant Daedalus, who is carrying an oil-lamp. "Wake up, young master! It's time to get ready for school." Rubbing his eyes, Lucius jumps out of bed on to the floor. In the bunk below him is his younger brother, Marcus, aged seven, whom Daedalus is also trying to arouse. "Come on, both of you, "he says, "It'll soon be light, and we mustn't be late for school!" Marcus, too, scrambles out of bed, although a little less nimbly than his brother.

Chapter 2.  Lucius' family background.

The two boys are the latest offspring of the clan 'Veturia', and come from patrician stock. Patricians are descended from those noblemen who had advised the ancient kings of Rome, who had ruled the city until 510 B.C., when King Tarquin the Proud had been expelled and replaced by a republic, headed by by two annually elected consuls. To begin with only patricians could be elected consul, but in 367 B.C., after a long political struggle, candidates from the common people, known as the plebeians, became  eligible for the consulship. However, for a number of years after that, the power of the old patrician families ensured that only patricians were elected. Eventually a law was passed which required that every year one of the two consuls had to be a plebeian. From then onwards the influence of the old patrician families began to decline, a process which was accelerated by the fact that many of them have died out. In the case of the clan 'Veturia', it has managed to survive, but only just, since Lucius' father, Publius, and an elderly distant cousin of his, are the only two adult members of it left. Like most respectable freeborn Romans, Lucius has three names: 'Lucius' is his first name, the equivalent of our Christian name; his 'clan' name is 'Veturius'; and his third, or 'family' name is 'Philo'. So, Lucius full name is 'Lucius Veturius Philo'.  

Young Lucius is very proud indeed of his name and of his family, and the fact of its ancient, and noble, origin. A particular focus for his pride are the wax masks of his two consular ancestors, who held office as long ago as 222 and 206 B.C. respectively, which have been handed down within his family, and which are hanging on the wall of the family shrine in the 'atrium', or hall, of their house. The fact that both of these ancestors had the forename Lucius only increases his sense of pride in their achievements. Lucius is also extremely proud of his father, Publius, now aged thirty-eight, who has been a member of the Senate for eight years. His father, or 'Pater', as he calls him, gained his seat in the Senate by winning election to the important financial post of 'quaestor'. He now attends Senate meetings regularly and has made a number of speeches, when the opportunity to do so has arisen. Furthermore, he is planning to put his name forward soon for the very significant post of 'praetor', and, if he is successful in this, he can then be considered for election to the consulship. Lucius is very confident that his father will become consul, which is the ambition of every Roman nobleman. For 'Pater' is a close associate of Rome's first emperor, Caesar Augustus, who is a keen promoter of the interests of patrician families, having become a patrician himself, when he was adopted by the great Julius Caesar in his will, which was published after his dreadful murder in 44 B.C.  

Chapter 3.  The boys get dressed.

But let us go back to that early morning in the summer of 3 B.C. Both Lucius and Marcus wash their hands in bowls of cold water and scrub their teeth with powdered pumice-stone. Then, they get dressed. First they put on a linen vest, and then a short-sleeved belted woollen tunic, which reaches down to their knees. Their legs are bare, but, since they are about to go out, they dispense with the sandals, or 'soleae', which they always wear within the house, and put on their outdoor leather walking-shoes. Lucius is particularly proud of his pair of leather shoes, which were given to him on his twelfth birthday, because they are marked with the peculiar crescent-shaped moon designs which only patricians are permitted to wear.

Finally, Daedalus comes back with a clean toga for Lucius - Marcus is still too young to wear one - and lays it on his bed. The toga is a large woollen garment, semi-circular in shape, about twelve feet long along its straight edge, and with a diameter of about five feet in Lucius' case, although more in the case of an adult. As Lucius is a child, the straight edge is marked with a purple band, and he will continue to  wear such a toga until he reaches the age of sixteen, when he will don the 'all white' toga of a man. Daedalus is there to help him, but actually Lucius is quite adept at putting his toga on: he drapes it around his body, then under his right-arm, and twice over his left shoulder, leaving a fold in front as a pocket and a loose end at the back. Nevertheless, Lucius finds the palaver involved in donning his toga rather annoying: "I do wish I didn't have to put on this clumsy great toga; it's so awkward to wear," he moans. "Yes, but you've got to get used to wearing it every time you go outside," says Daedalus. "The toga is the mark of the great Roman civilisation which rules the world, and one day you will be very proud you are wearing it." 

The boys' final act before leaving their bedroom is to adjust the circular gold chain that each one is wearing around his neck. This is called a 'bulla', and it contains an amulet intended to bring good luck. Like other boys they received it on the ninth day after the day of their birth, when they were given their first name, and they will continue to wear it until they put on the manly toga. 

Chapter 4.  Lucius and his brother get ready to go to school. 

The boys' bedroom is a room in a floor on the first storey above the left-side of the house, overlooking the street. At the bottom of the stairs, as they come out into the atrium, the main hallway of the house, a slave brings them their breakfast on a tray. This is a light meal, consisting of bread, cheese, fruit and honey, with a cup of wine mixed with water. Sometimes they have to eat this on the way to school, but today there is time for them to eat it while sitting in chairs against the wall of the atrium. As they finish gulping down their meal, who should come to see them, but their mother, Foslia. Foslia is five foot six inches in height, quite tall for a Roman lady. She has long black hair, dazzling white skin, which she keeps like that by taking care to keep out of the sunlight, and splendidly dark  brown eyes, which focus lovingly on the faces of her two sons. 

"I do hope you slept well last night, my darling boys," she says, "and I hope you have a good morning at school today."

"Oh, Mater, you do look very nice this morning," says little Marcus, and he is rewarded for this compliment by a loving kiss on the lips from Foslia.

"And thank you for reading us that exciting story last night before we went to sleep," ventures Lucius. "I really do enjoy those stories about the Trojan War, and, although I like some of the Greeks, particularly that clever Ulysses, I do so admire the Trojan prince Hector for being so brave."

"Yes, he was very brave, wasn't he?" replies Foslia, "but he was also a very kind husband and father. Perhaps you will grow up to be just like him! Don't forget that old belief of my family, the Foslii - we are patricians also - that we are descended from the Trojan royal family."

"Oh, Mater, I do hope that's true," says Lucius with a big smile. He, too, receives a loving kiss from his mother, and then the two boys follow Daedalus down the narrow vestibule, and out through the front-door into the street. Bringing up the rear is another household servant, called Gildo, and he shuffles after them, carrying his young masters' school books in two circular wooden boxes.

The two men accompanying them are very important in the lives of the two boys. Both of them are slaves, and therefore the personal property of their father. Daedalus, who is Greek, is their 'pedagogue' or tutor, and, ever since they outgrew the need for a nurse, he has been responsible for their education, both moral and linguistic. He speaks very good Greek, and thanks to his efforts Lucius has become bilingual in both Latin and Greek; indeed, he speaks Greek just as well as he speaks Latin. Marcus is still struggling a little with his Greek, but under Daedalus' expert guidance he is making good progress. Gildo, the other of their two companions, is also a slave; however, unlike Daedalus, he is illiterate, and is responsible for more mundane physical tasks. He is called the boys' 'satchel-slave', and has the job of carrying their books, their food, and indeed anything else they may need, to school with them.

Chapter 5.  The journey to school.

Today, as they leave the house it is getting light, and therefore they do not need to take an oil-lamp with them, as they do in winter. They have in front of them a twenty minute walk, which will bring them to their schools, which are situated in Long Street, adjacent to the famous Roman 'Forum' or market-place. Marcus attends a primary, or elementary, school, which concentrates on the basics of education, reading, writing and arithmetic, while his elder brother Lucius is enrolled at a secondary, or grammar, school, which is a short distance further down the Long Street. This secondary school is concerned with teaching the poets, particularly the Greek poet Homer, who is Lucius' favourite, although the recently published poems of the Latin authors, Virgil and Horace, are now becoming increasingly important too.

Today, Daedalus has decided to stay with Marcus in the primary school, where he will sit at the back of the class together with the pedagogues and servants of the other young pupils. So Lucius, followed by Gildo, walks on to the neighbouring secondary school, which he reaches in about two minutes' time. The secondary school, like Marcus' primary school, is located in a fairly substantial recess, covered by a thick linen awning, and it is only separated from the street by a long woollen veil or curtain. Lucius pushes through this, and sits down on a stool and takes his writing tablet and 'stilus' pen out of the wooden satchel which Gildo has now passed to him. Lucius has agreed that Gildo, who, being illiterate, finds the lessons terribly boring, can slip off for a while to go sight-seeing in the Forum, which, as Lucius knows perfectly well, probably means looking for a gladiatorial contest or a glass of strong wine.

Chapter 6.  The search for Lydia.

Anyhow, Lucius is getting ready for the lesson to start, when suddenly he notices his friend Sextus coming through the curtain wall with a desperately anxious look on his tear-stained face. "O Lucius," cries Sextus, "we've lost Lydia!" Now, Lydia is a chubby little black puppy - like most Roman canine pets, she is a bitch - and is a great favourite of Sextus, and, indeed, of all his family.

"Why, what's happened to her?" asks Lucius.

"Well, when I left for school this morning, Lydia managed to escape from the house" - Sextus' home is much nearer to the school than Lucius's - "and started to follow me down the road. I smacked my hands together and said to her, 'Go home, you naughty girl!' and she scampered off in the right direction, but when Ordo joined me outside the school to give me my books - Ordo is the name of Sextus' satchel-slave - he told me that Lydia had not returned, and that the whole household was in state of total uproar, due to their anxiety about her. I think she must have followed me after all, but now she's nowhere to be seen."

"Don't worry, Sextus," says Lucius reassuringly, "we'll go and look for her!" So, Lucius gets up again, and, together with Sextus and Ordo, goes out into the street, and they walk up and down, searching for Lydia and calling out her name, and asking passers-by whether they've seen a little black puppy anywhere. They all shake their heads, until a certain female slave, who is carrying a flagon of water, which she has gathered from a nearby fountain, says, "Yes, I did see a little black dog - she probably was a puppy - sniffing around in that alley over there." The three of them run into the alley, and crying out, "Lydia, Lydia, where are you?" they search for her with increasing desperation. "I think we must have lost her. Perhaps someone has stolen her. She's so sweet after all !" groans Sextus. They are on the verge of giving up the search, when suddenly Lucius hears what seems to be a faint yelping sound. He can't tell exactly where this sound is coming from, but he follows the direction of it, and then he espies a little uncovered drain at the side of the alley-way. He looks down into it, and about three feet below the ground he sees Lydia desperately kicking her little legs in the rain-water at the bottom of the drain.

"Here she is!" shouts out Lucius joyfully, and lying down flat on the ground, he stretches his hands down into the drain and pulls out little Lydia, soaked in rain-water as she is. After giving her a little pat, he hands her to Sextus. Lydia emits a small squeak of delight, and, despite the dirty water covering her, Sextus gives her a big kiss, and cuddles her close to his chest.

"We've got to take her home!" says Sextus. "I know we'll be late for the lesson, but we really can't lose her again!" So, Sextus and Lucius, followed by Ordo, who, just like the two boys, has a big beam on his face, run down the road to Sextus' family home which is about five to ten minutes away. When they get there, joy is unbounded. Sextus' mother and his little sister let out cries of delight, as do a number of the household slaves, with whom Lydia is a great favourite too. "Oh, Mater!" says Sextus to his mother, "Lucius found Lydia! She had fallen down a horrible drain-hole, and, if it hadn't been for him, I think she would have drowned."

"Thank you so much, Lucius!" says Sextus' mother. "I can't tell you how grateful we all are to you. We're all so very fond of little Lydia, and we'll really have to make sure she doesn't manage to escape again. Perhaps you would like to come round to lunch here some day next week, so we can give our thanks to you properly. I'll send Ordo down to your villa with a written invitation, and, if your mother agrees, you can bring that nice little brother of yours with you  - Marcus, that's his name, isn't it? I'll make sure we have some lovely baked bread, followed by fruit pudding. I know lunch is normally supposed to be rather a light meal, but I think we can make an exception on this occasion, as we're all so delighted little Lydia is safe - thanks to you! But now you must go back to school, mustn't you?"

Chapter 7.  Lucius and Sextus are punished for their lateness. 

So, Lucius and Sextus, still followed by Ordo, walk hurriedly back to the secondary school in Long Street.They slip in quietly through the curtain, and go straight to their stools, hoping that their absence won't be noticed, but their hopes are in vain.  For the lesson is in full swing. The 'grammaticus', or grammar teacher, a grey-haired old gentleman named Florus is seated on a big throne-like armchair on a raised stage, or dais, from which he looks down on his thirty or so pupils below, who are sitting on their stools."Lucius, Sextus, why are you so late?" barks Florus. "You know I won't tolerate lateness in any of my pupils."

"It, it's really all my f-fault," stammered poor Sextus in reply. "I lost one of my favourite possessions" - he didn't dare mention the puppy directly, because he was afraid Florus would be antagonised by any reference to a dog - , "and Lucius helped me find it."

"I don't care if you lost the crown jewels. That's still no excuse to be so late for my lessons. Your fathers haven't paid me my fees, so that boys like you can wander in whenever you feel like it. No, I'm now going to teach you a jolly good lesson! Both of you, come up here and stand before me on the dais!" So, poor Lucius and Sextus have to stand on the dais with their backs to the rest of the class. Then 'Flogger' Florus - he had been given this nickname due to his fondness for thrashing his pupils - gives first Sextus, and then Lucius, three hard strokes on the tops of their backs with a whippy ply-wood cane. Sextus lets out a cry after each stroke, and comes down off the stage with tears coursing down his cheeks. Lucius is made of sterner stuff, however, and grits his teeth together to avoid making any sound, and, although the tears do start to well up in his eyes after he receives his second stroke, he just manages to get back to his stool without any tears flowing.

"Well, let that be a lesson to the both of you!" shouts out 'Flogger' Florus. "And may the rest of you see what will happen to you, if you are ever late for my lessons! Now, after this unavoidable interruption, let us get on with the lesson!"

So, Lucius and Sextus, despite the soreness of their backs, try to compose themselves, and prepare to resume their studies. Meanwhile, at the back of the class, Sextus' satchel-bearer, Ordo, clenches his fists together in his suppressed rage at the fierce treatment of his young master, and staring hard at Florus, he whispers to himself under his breath, "How I hate that horrible man! I'd like to kill him, if I could!"

Chapter 8.  The end of the lesson.

So, the lesson continues. Fortunately for Lucius the subject of the lesson is a passage from Book VI of Homer's 'Iliad', his favourite book of poetry. This passage features Lucius' hero, Hector, picking up and kissing his infant son Astyanax, who is initially frightened by his father's fearsome helmet, and then praying to Zeus to make his son a valiant warrior. The passage itself portrays a cheerful scene that demonstrates the happy family life of Hector, together with his wife Andromache, and their son, but it also contains an undercurrent of deep sadness, as we all know that Hector is soon to be slain by Achilles, little Astyanax is to be hurled to his death from the walls of Troy, and his mother is to become a slave at the hands of her Greek captors.

Returning to the progress of the lesson, Florus reads out the passage aloud, and explains the main difficulties of grammar and vocabulary in it, and then each boy in turn has to read out some sentences, and then explain their grammatical structure. Eventually, it is Lucius' turn to perform. "Now, Lucius, "says Florus, "it is your turn to 'construe' " - this is a term that means to both 'read' and 'translate'. Lucius is an outstanding pupil, and loves Homer's poetry. He reads a whole paragraph of Greek without error, translates it into Latin, and then answers Florus' questions about the structure of the sentences, what are their subjects, objects and main verbs, etc., and he does this so well that by the end of the lesson he is fully restored to his teacher's favour. Poor Sextus, however, is less fortunate, and, when he makes a slip-up in the pronunciation of the piece he is reading, he receives another stroke of the cane on the palm of his hand from 'Flogger' Florus as a punishment for his supposed carelessness.

At midday the lesson ends, and the boys prepare to go home for their lunch. "I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble, Lucius, and I do hope those strokes of the cane aren't still hurting you too much!" says Sextus with a worried look on his face.

"Don't worry about it," replies Lucius. "It was all worthwhile to save your little Lydia, and, when you get home and see her again, I'm sure you'll cheer up and forget what happened here this morning. And I'm certainly looking forward to coming round to your house with Marcus next week, and having that lovely lunch your mother has so kindly promised us." The two friends exchange hugs, and then Lucius, accompanied by Gildo, who has by now returned from his sight-seeing trip around the Forum, goes down the road to the primary school, where Marcus and Daedalus are waiting for them. Gildo is aghast when he is told by Ordo about what happened earlier, but, on Lucius' instruction, he agrees not to tell Daedalus anything about it.

Chapter 9.  Lucius and his brother return home for lunch.

Lucius, his shoulders still smarting a little from the pain of the caning, and Marcus walk home together with Daedalus and Gildo, and join their mother for a light middle meal in the garden at the back of their house in a court which is called the 'peristyle'. This lunch, or 'prandium' consists of cold meat, vegetables, unleavened bread and watered wine. During this snack, they are joined by their father, who has spent much of the morning, advising the many 'clients' of his who have come to see him to ask for his advice and support. "Lucius, don't forget that you are coming to the public baths with me this afternoon. First, however, I think we should go to the Field of Mars and play ball."

"Oh, yes, Pater," replies Lucius, "I haven't forgotten that we are going bathing later, and I'd love to go with you to the Field of Mars first."

"I'd like to go too," pipes up little Marcus.

"No, I'm afraid you're still too young, little man," says Publius. "But one day, when you're about ten, you will be able to join us." For a moment Marcus looks sad, but soon he is engrossed in his favourite pastime, in which a team of six white mice are dragging along a little wooden chariot, which Gildo, who is very skilled with his hands, has made for him.

"Go, go," shouts out Marcus, "you've got to win the race!" and the mice scuttle busily across the floor with their chariot in tow.

"Hush!" says his mother. "Don't make such a noise, Marcus! You'll disturb some of our servants, who are having their siesta. Indeed, I rather think it's time for my siesta." And so Foslia gets up and goes to her bedroom, a large room, adjoining the atrium at the front of the house, which she shares with her husband.

Chapter 10.  Lucius and his father take their exercise on the Field of Mars.

While his mother goes for her afternoon nap, Lucius and his father remove their togas, put on fresh tunics and leave the house. They walk down the High Street in a southerly direction, and go out through the City walls by means of the small western gate. Going in a westerly direction, they cross a major north-south road, known as the Via Flaminia, and come to the field of Mars, situated between the City Walls and the River Tiber. Traditionally, it was the place where the Roman army used to parade before marching out to war, and where Roman soldiers used to practice their military skills. Hence it was called the Field of Mars, who is the Roman god of war. This plain used to be completely open, but now its eastern part has become the site of a number of magnificent new buildings. Firstly, they come to the Saepta Julia, a big rectangular edifice, coated with marble, with colonnades on its western and eastern sides. What is the purpose of this big building, Pater," says Lucius, "and why are there so many people coming in and out of it?"

"It's a voting enclosure, Lucius," says Publius, "and it's the place where Roman citizens come to cast their votes when elections are being held, or laws are being passed. It was originally planned by the great Julius Caesar - that's why its called 'Julia' - and it was finished and dedicated for use a little over twenty-five years ago by Marcus Agrippa, the Emperor's chief lieutenant and expected successor, although he sadly died about nine years ago. But, since the Emperor Augustus has taken over, elections and other votes are less important than they used to be, and so this splendid building can be used for other purposes, such as gladiatorial contests, for instance. And the reason why there are so many people here today is because Augustus has used it to exhibit an exciting wild beast which he has had specially imported from Africa recently. It's called a rhinoceros, which means 'horn-nose', and it's a massive creature, not as big as an elephant perhaps, but even fiercer and more powerful! The sight of it is very exciting, which explains why so many people have come to see it."

"Can we take a look at it?" asks Lucius, "and what's going to happen to it in the end?"

"We haven't got time to look at the rhinoceros today, says his father, "but I'll try to arrange for us all to make a visit to see it soon. I'm sure your mother and Marcus would like to see it too! As for its future, I'm not sure what the Emperor has in mind. My fear is that it will be made to fight other wild beasts, such as lions or leopards. Personally, I hate bloody spectacles of that sort, but there are many people who will pay large sums of money to watch such things, and this may persuade those around Augustus to suggest this to him."

"Perhaps you should raise this in the Senate, Pater, and suggest that such contests between animals should be banned," says Lucius.

"Yes, Lucius, I'd certainly like to do just that, but, unfortunately watching animals fighting each other has become so popular with the public that anyone wanting to become praetor, as I do, would probably be wise not to express a contrary view too publicly."

As Lucius ponders the implications of Publius' remark, they both walk on past the nearby Pantheon, the temple to all the gods, also built by Agrippa and completed a few years after the Saepta Julia. Looking northwards they can see the Horologium, a tall solar clock, or sundial, erected only a few years before, in 10 B.C., and immediately to its right they can see the beautiful Altar of Augustan Peace, built to celebrate the peace which Augustus has brought to the whole Roman empire after so many years of terrible civil strife. The Horologium has been designed, so that on the day of the Emperor's birthday in August the pointed shadow thrown by the sun will point straight to the front entrance of the Altar of Peace. Having passed just to the north of the Pantheon, they come to the western part of the Field of Mars, free of buildings as it still is. Leading down to the River Tiber, in which many people still swim after exerting themselves, is the sandy grassland on which the citizens of Rome traditionally take exercise.   

As he walks along beside his father, Lucius looks around with great interest at the various activities which are in progress around them. Some athletic-looking youths are training in preparation for joining the army at the age of eighteen: they are running, jumping, riding horses, driving chariots and wrestling. Others are fencing with wooden staves, or tilting at posts. Then, there are those throwing the discuss, and weight-lifters, and men exercising with dumb-bells. But it is the ball-games that most interest Lucius and excite his attention. The most spectacular of these is a game, like net-ball, involving two teams of seven-a-side and which makes use of a small hard ball. This game is called 'harpastum', and today such a game is going on, watched by a number of cheering spectators. At the same time, a little further off and nearer to the Tiber, a number of middle-aged and elderly men are playing with larger and lighter leather balls. One of these balls, called a 'paganica' is stuffed with feathers, and another, called a 'follis', is inflated with air. Then, they see three men, standing in a triangle, and throwing three 'follis' balls to one another in quick succession. One of these three men recognises Publius, and knows what a distinguished senator he is.

"If you, Veturius, and your son  - I take it that good-looking young man is your son - are looking to play a game, why don't you come and join us?" Publius happily accepts this kind offer on behalf of them both - Lucius looks keen enough too - , and, with the help of two other gentlemen who are standing nearby, they form a circle of six, with the seventh person in the middle. The six men in the circle take it in turns to throw a 'follis' at the one in the middle. After each round the one in the middle exchanges his position with one of those in the circle, until all seven players have been tested in succession. They then repeat the process for a second time. The winner is the person who drops the ball the least times. Needless to say, Publius, who catches all twelve balls directed at him, is the winner. Lucius also does well, only dropping the ball twice.

At the end of their game, Publius thanks the other contestants for giving him and Lucius such a pleasant time, and then turns to his son and says, "Well, I think it's time we went to the baths, and I think we can make use of the Baths of Agrippa, which are just over there to the south of the Pantheon." So, retracing their footsteps back to the eastern side of the Field of Mars, they begin to make their way to the baths. However, as they are walking past a crowd of ball-players, mostly young men, they notice that an elderly gentleman, who appears to be struggling somewhat in his movements, has become the object of laughter and jeers from a number of the young men. The elderly man, probably about seventy years old, is taking part in another game with a 'follis' ball, called 'palla'. This involves throwing the ball backwards and forwards over a piece of netting, with three players on each side. The old man, who was clearly suffering from a slight limp, had dropped the ball on a number of occasions, and, as Publius and Lucius approach the group of people playing and the spectators surrounding them, he slips and falls forward flat on his face. As he was slowly getting back on his feet with the help of one of his fellow-players, he was greeted by yells of laughter and some quite unpleasant sneering from a number of the spectators. "Oh no, granddad, not again! You're really much too old and clumsy to be playing this game. Surely you must see that your day is done, you silly old fool!" cried out one spectator, a youngish man of around twenty-five, and a number of rude and derogatory comments from some of the other spectators followed this.

Then, a thunderous look comes over Publius' face, for he has just recognised the old ball-player as a fellow-senator called Aufidius, and before the game of 'palla' can be restarted, Publius walks right into the middle of the group, and says with a very stern expression on his face, "Show some respect, will you! Don't you know who you're talking to? This is Gaius Aufidius. He's not only a very distinguished former  tribune of the people, who did a lot to help a number of fellow-citizens, people just like you, whom the law had mistreated, but as a young man he saved the life of a fellow-soldier and was awarded the civic crown, our country's greatest honour, because of his gallantry. And yet you young men are laughing and sneering at him, when you should be applauding him for his courage and determination in playing at all at his advanced age, and, despite that limp of his, which he acquired as a honourable wound in battle while fighting for his country. Shame on you all!"

When Publius finishes his reproof, Lucius notices that the crowd has now gone quiet and that the faces of many of the young men are displaying some very uncomfortable looks. "Thank you very much for standing up for me, Veturius, " says Aufidius. "But I'm afraid these young men are probably right. Perhaps, I should retire from the field at last. But, despite my age, I do so enjoy playing 'palla'."

"I think you should go on playing for as long as you like, Aufidius," replies Publius, "and I do hope I can still play ball-games, if I ever reach your age." Then, Publius shakes hands with Aufidius, and he and Lucius continue their walk to the Baths of Agrippa, while Aufidius and his friends resume their game, and some of the spectators begin to shuffle off with looks of embarrassment on their faces.

Chapter 11.  Lucius and his father visit the baths.

"Well then, Lucius," says his father, "we'll soon arrive at the Baths. Do you know they are actually the very first public baths to be built in our city? Our great emperor, Augustus, has vowed to change Rome from a city of brick into a city of marble, and in doing this he certainly received a great deal of help from good old Agrippa, may God bless his soul! We've gone past the Saepta Julia and the Pantheon, for the construction of which he was responsible, but he also built these lovely public Baths, which are now available to every Roman citizen."

When they get to the Baths, Lucius' father pays the entrance fee for both of them, a nominal charge of a 'quadrans' each. A 'quadrans' is Rome's smallest copper coin, worth a farthing or even less. Then. Lucius follows Publius into the 'tepidarium', or 'warm room', where they undress and hand over their clothes to the attendant, who knows Publius quite well. "Good afternoon, sir!" says the attendant. "Is this your son?"

"Yes," replies Publius. "He's my elder son, and his name is Lucius. He has learned to swim, but this is his first visit to these splendid baths."

"I do hope you enjoy yourself, young sir," says the attendant with an encouraging smile, "and that you don't find the changes in temperature too much of a shock." Feeling very excited, Lucius follows his father into the 'caldarium', or 'very hot room', and they jump into a hot bath, where, despite the other bathers - for the pool is quite crowded - they have a good time, splashing about and swimming one or two lengths. After about ten minutes they climb out, and sit on a bench, while they perspire heavily in the hot air circulating upwards, coming from the coal-fire, or 'hypocaust' burning under the floor. They sit there sweating, and get so hot that they have to ask an attendant to pour cold water over them to cool them down. After about twenty minutes, Publius says, "I bet you're feeling very hot now, Lucius. Let's go and have our cold plunge!"

So, up they get, and go to the 'frigidarium', or 'cold room', where there is another swimming pool, this time full of cold water, into which they jump. At first, this cold water comes as quite a shock to Lucius, and he lets out a little cry. "Oh, Pater, it's really freezing, isn't it?" "So it is," says his father, "but you'll soon get used to it, and it'll certainly wash away all that sweat that we got in the 'very hot room'." Soon, Lucius, becoming acclimatised to the cold water, starts to enjoy himself again, but they don't stay in this pool for very long. Getting out, they return to the 'warm room', where they had got undressed.

"Now," says Publius, "comes the most important part of our visit to these baths; we're going to get our 'rub-down'! Lucius looks round to the opposite corner of the room, where he sees a number of raised couches, on which there are gentlemen of all shapes and sizes, lying on their backs or stomachs, while the attendants or masseurs, standing over them, are anointing them with olive-oil, which they then proceed to rub well into the men's bodies, pounding and pummelling away at them. As soon as one of the couches becomes available, Lucius jumps on to it and lies flat on his stomach. His masseur is a big black man, a slave like the other bath attendants. "Well, helloo dair, young gen'leman! Your father tells me this is your first visit to these baths. I think you're gonna enjoy this massage." He then pours olive-oil on to Lucius' back, and rubs this well into his flesh, firstly on his back and hind-legs, and then, after he has turned over, his chest, stomach and thighs. For Lucius, a young lad with no surplus flesh, this is quite a pleasant experience, but some other of the attendants' customers are finding it much less comfortable. Lying on the couch next to Lucius is a rather portly gentleman, who lets out a number of moans and groans as his masseur rubs hard at the deposits of fat all over his body.

After about ten minutes, Lucius' initial massage comes to an end, and his attendant picks up a metal scraper, called a 'strigil'. "Now, you must lie very still, young master," says he, "so the strigil doesn't cut you!" The black attendant then proceeds to scrape his front and back in order to remove any surplus oil, sweat or dust. At the end of this process, Lucius receives a final 'rub-down' with a towel and then returns to the other end of the 'warm room', where his clothes have been stored. There, he joins his father, and they put on their clothes once more. Lucius is relieved that his father hasn't noticed the red marks on his back, inflicted by 'Flogger' Florus earlier in the day.

After Publius has generously tipped the two masseurs who have been working on them, he and Lucius are preparing to leave the changing area, when suddenly they hear a loud commotion coming from the adjoining corridor. Publius looks out, cautiously, and sees a rather scruffily dressed man with long tousled hair running down the corridor towards him, while grasping in one hand what appears to be a kind of leather bag. Behind him, Publius hears some loud shouts: "Fur!" "Furcifer!" - words meaning 'Thief', and 'Rogue destined for the gallows' - and "Stop thief! That man's stolen my purse!" Such is the hue and cry following the footsteps of this unkempt looking man! As the man approaches the spot where he is standing, Lucius' father quickly takes a step back into the entrance to the changing area, and then, as the would-be fugitive runs past him, he suddenly sticks out his foot. The thief trips up over it, and goes flying head over heels on to his face. The purse too falls to the floor, and coins, both silver and copper, spill out of it in all directions. Before he can get up, the thief is jumped upon by the man whose purse he has stolen and two or three bath attendants responsible for security, and is hauled off to the city gaol to face justice.

Lucius is somewhat shaken by this nasty incident, but is full of admiration for his father's quick-thinking, which has certainly led to the thief's downfall. Publius is thanked profusely by the owner of the stolen purse and by the chief security guard, and then he and Lucius leave the Baths of Agrippa for their journey home. Despite the alarming incident at the end of their visit, Lucius has really enjoyed his first experience of the public baths, and he walks home with his father, feeling full of vigour and glowing with health.

Chapter 12.  Lucius prepares for his first dinner party.

When Lucius and his father get back to their house on the High Street, Lucius, with an admiring look on his face, tells his mother how his father had stopped those insolent young men from jeering at that gallant old ball-player on the Field of Mars, and the clever manner in which he had brought about the downfall of the fleeing thief in the Baths of Agrippa. Foslia congratulates her husband on his actions, and tells Lucius to be sure to follow his father's good example in his future life. Then, she turns to Lucius and says, "You know we're having a dinner-party this evening, don't you?"

"Yes," replies Lucius, "but who's coming to it?"

"Well, we're holding the party to celebrate the engagement of your cousin Aemilia to her fiancé, young Aulus Papirius Carbo. Aemilia's mother, your aunt, Foslia Major" - Roman women do not have first names like the men do, and are only differentiated by quantitative adjectives such as Major and Minor - "is coming of course, together with her husband, Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, who, because he is an ex-consul, will have the seat of honour at the banquet. Also present will be young Papirius' father, Gaius, and his second wife, Vera - poor Aulus' mother died shortly after he was born."

Lucius carefully counted up the number of guests his mother had said were invited. The usual number of people attending a dinner party like this is nine, but, including herself and her husband, Foslia had only listed eight people. "But, Mater, including Pater and yourself, you've only mentioned eight people. Who's going to be the ninth person?"

"A very good-looking young man, called Lucius Veturius Philo, provided that he behaves well, and takes himself off to bed when the plates are cleared."

"Oh Mater, Pater, can I really come to the feast?" cries Lucius, who is really thrilled at the prospect of attending his first dinner party. "Oh, how exciting!"

"I'm glad you're so pleased," says Foslia, "and I know your cousin Aemilia will be very glad that you're there.  You're certainly a great favourite of hers, you know! But now you must go upstairs and get dressed for the party, which will be starting in about twenty minutes." So Lucius runs happily upstairs, and dons a smart blue tunic, which has been laid out for him to wear.

After he has put this on, and brushed his hair, Lucius comes down again into the atrium, which he crosses, and then hurries into the dining room, or 'triclinium', at the back of the house. This is adjacent to the peristyle, where the garden is, and beside it is the kitchen or 'culina', although there is no direct access from the kitchen to the dining room in order that any unpleasant smells should be avoided. It's about quarter past four in the afternoon. In Roman households, dinner or 'cena', which is the main meal of the day, often begins as early as three o'clock, but today's banquet is scheduled to begin at about 4.30 p.m. "What are we having for dinner this evening, Gordianus?" Lucius asks their head steward, who is arranging the flowers on the 'mensa', the square table in the middle of the room, surrounded by the three couches which have been set out in the traditional manner, with one couch facing three of the tables' four sides, and one side being left free for the servants to lay down the food. "I do hope we're having something nice!" adds Lucius.

"Here is our menu for tonight, young master," says Gordianus, who as head steward is responsible for the work of all the male slaves in the household, and he reads out the details of the three courses which the chef, a slave, who cost a large sum of money to purchase, has noted down on a piece of papyrus:

'1. First course (or hors d'oeuvre'): Eggs, garum (i.e. a strong fish pickle), olives, radishes, lettuce, leeks.

2. Main course: Roast kid, pheasant, ham, meat balls, a fish (lamprey and turbot), with the following vegetables ; sprouts, asparagus, olives, mushrooms and truffles, together with appropriate sauces.

3. Dessert: apples, pears, grapes, figs, strawberries, walnuts and almonds.'

"I hope you approve, Master Lucius," says Gordianus. "Castor, our chef, is used to preparing even more elaborate meals than this, but your father has made it clear that, as this is only an informal family meal, the food, although good, must be relatively simple."

Then, the visitors begin to arrive, and a footman announces their names, as they come down the vestibule into the atrium. Lucius' cousin, Aemilia, is only a year and a half older than Lucius, and proudly shows him her new engagement ring, made of gold, worn on the third finger of her left hand, which Aulus Papirius has given her as a token of their betrothal. Aulus, himself, is a handsome young man of twenty-four, and has already distinguished himself as a junior army officer on the staff of a Roman general in Spain. Aemilia is evidently in awe of her fiancé, and gazes at him with a look of adoration, while Lucius is delighted to meet his cousin's future husband, and thinks she has done very well to win him.

When his aunt Foslia Major and her famous husband, the consular Scaurus, enter the atrium, the guests are ushered into the dining room, where Gordianus escorts them to their places. Facing the 'mensa', the square table in the middle of the room, is the 'Central Couch', and the right hand of its three places is reserved for Aemilia's father, Scaurus, with Aemilia herself in the middle of this couch, next to her father, and her fiancé, Aulus Papirius, in the place on her left. The couch to the left of the 'mensa' is the 'Low Couch', on which are placed, in order, Aulus' step-mother Vera, the hostess, Lucius' mother Foslia Minor, and at the end, Aulus' father, Gaius Papirius. To the right of the 'mensa' is the 'Low Couch', on which are placed in descending order, the host, Lucius' father Publius, sitting next to Scaurus, the guest of honour, then Lucius' aunt Foslia Major, and, finally, Lucius himself in the bottom place, facing Aulus' father on the opposite couch. The three couches are made of wood engraved with ivory, and each one is covered by a mattress and some brightly coloured coverlets, with a cushion for each table guest. Each of the four adult male participants 'reclines' in the traditional manner, lying on their left sides and leaning on their left elbows. The ladies, however, are permitted to sit on their cushions, as is Lucius, as he is still too young to recline at table, and needs more time to practise this way of eating. He does, however, slip off his sandals like the other guests, and, then, looking very smart in his blue tunic, he takes his place beside his aunt and waits for the food to be brought in.

Chapter 13.  Lucius enjoys the dinner party. 

Lucius certainly finds most of the food very good. Perhaps he doesn't really enjoy the garum, or fish-pickle, very much, popular as it is with most of the other guests because of its very strong taste, but he does enjoy the roast kid, the pheasant, and the ham. Slices of all of these are brought to him on a silver plate by an attendant, who has been specially assigned to look after him, after they have been carefully carved at a side-table by an expert carver called Andron. He only has a little of the lamprey, as he is rather wary of fish, but he really likes the asparagus and the mushrooms, especially the latter as they are served in a really delicious sauce. After the first course, or hors d'oeuvre, is served, the attendants bring round cups of so-called 'honey-wine', and no other wine is served during the meal itself. At some Roman banquets wine is served in large quantities throughout the meal, but, in accordance with Publius' instructions, only this moderate honey-wine is made available at this stage of the dinner, and Lucius' mother has ensured that in his case it is diluted with plenty of water.

During the meal, Lucius is careful to remember his manners, and only to speak when he is spoken to; but he does chat happily to his aunt, the elder Foslia, who is sitting next to him. When she asks what sort of day he has had, he tells how he found Sextus' puppy in a drain, and how much he enjoyed playing ball in the Field of Mars and then going to the Baths of Agrippa afterwards. His aunt listens with interest, particularly when he tells her about his father's courage in standing up to those young men who were teasing poor old Aufidius so cruelly, and how he also managed to up-end the flying thief in the corridor of the bath house.

Apart from conversation, the guests are entertained during the dinner, firstly by a professional singer, who accompanies his song with a lyre, and then by Lucius' pedagogue Daedalus, who reads a passage from Book VI of Homer's 'Odyssey', a book which Lucius likes almost as much as the 'Iliad'. This reading tells how the shipwrecked and semi-naked Ulysses wakes up on the beach on the island of Scheria (now known as Corfu), and is encouraged by the beautiful princess Nausicaa to come out of hiding and accompany her back to the palace of her father, Alcinoüs, King of the Phaeacians. Lucius loves this story, which he has heard Daedalus read many times before, and which he himself has now learned to recite. "Do you know, I think Aemilia is just as pretty as Nausicaa must have been!" says Lucius to her mother, who is sitting beside him, and his aunt smiles proudly at this suggestion.

The dinner-party is a great success, and the guests talk happily to one another in the midst of so much delightful food. However, towards the end of the main course, and after Daedalus has finished his reading, Aulus Papirius' father Gaius, suddenly gets up, and, after a choked apology, rushes from the dining room holding his somewhat chubby belly, while his wife Vera and Aulus look on with rather awkward looks on their faces. Before this happens, Lucius had noticed that Gaius, who was reclining on the couch immediately opposite him, seemed to be eating a great deal, and gulping his mouthfuls rather too quickly. When Gaius has left the dining room, Lucius turns to his aunt and says, "What's the matter with Aulus' pater? I do hope he's all right!"

"Oh, don't worry, Lucius!" replies Foslia Major. "He's only going to the 'vomitorium'. She is quite right. In common with a number of Roman men, Gaius takes emetic tablets, designed to make him vomit, so that he can eat and drink as much as he likes, be sick in the vomitorium, and then come back and eat and drink still more. After he has left the dining room, Gaius is assisted by the chief steward Gordianus into a small room adjoining the peristyle, from where, having vomited once or twice, and, having drunk a little water, which Gordianus helpfully gives him, he returns to the dining room. "I feel much better now," says Gaius, smiling happily. "Roll on  the dessert!"

Sure enough, when the dessert is brought in and placed on the 'mensa', Gaius tucks in readily, together with everyone else. Lucius particularly enjoys the pears, which are served together with some lovely cream. But when the fruit is taken away by the attendants, and  a big 'crater' or mixing-bowl of red wine is put on the table, Lucius feels sad, as he realises that the drinking phase of the dinner is about to begin, and that he will therefore have to say farewell to the guests and withdraw to his bedroom. But his pretty cousin Aemilia, supported by her father Scaurus, asks that Lucius should be permitted to stay for long enough to drink to the good health of the betrothed. Much to his delight, his parents agree, which means that he can stay at the table for half an hour longer.

As he is the host, Publius assumes the role of 'master of ceremonies', and decides that the wine will be diluted by three measures of water to everyone of wine, and he also decides the maximum number of cups that each person can drink. This he limits to five, although in Lucius' case it is only two. Each guest proposes a toast to the health of the engaged couple; Lucius' turn come last. He stands up, and says, "Good health to you Aemilia! Good health to you too, Aulus!" and drains his cup in one draught in the prescribed manner. Then, at his mother's behest, he calls for his sandals and asks for permission to retire. After saying good night to his parents and all the guests and giving Aemilia a polite little kiss, he leaves the dining room and goes upstairs. The party, however, is scheduled to last for another hour at least.

Chaper 14.  Lucius goes to bed.

It is now beginning to get dark, and Daedalus meets Lucius in the atrium, and, giving him an oil-lamp, tells him to go to bed quietly and not to disturb Marcus who is already asleep. So, Lucius goes upstairs and takes his clothes off quickly, and puts on his night attire. Then, blowing out the lamp, he climbs quietly up on to his bunk above the sleeping Marcus. Despite the noise coming from the street below - in Rome nights are noisy because of the constant movement of horses and carts, which are banned from the streets during the day, and have to be used at night to make deliveries - , he quickly falls asleep, tired out no doubt by all the exciting things he has experienced during the day that has just passed.

He is not disturbed at all by the departure of the guests, but at about midnight he is awoken by a loud shouting noise in the street immediately beneath his window. "Help! Help! I'm being attacked!" is the voice of a late-night traveller, who is being assaulted by a footpad, who is probably after his money. "Help, Vigiles! Over here!" cries the traveller. The Vigiles are the firemen, recently recruited by the Emperor Augustus to extinguish fires and to prevent robberies such as this one. Luckily for the traveller, a number of Vigiles do appear on the scene quickly in response to his cry for help, and the footpad runs off hurriedly. But before peace can be restored, Lucius sees and hears a window opening in the top floor of the block of tenement flats opposite their house, and an angry citizen, indignant at being woken up by all this noise, cries out, "Cave faeces! (Beware the dregs!)", and then empties a basin or chamber-pot full of slops on to the head of anyone unfortunate enough to be standing directly underneath. Lucius listens with interest to the cries of disgust and the scuffling sounds which follow the splash caused by the landing of these slops, but then he also hears anxious noises coming from the bunk beneath him, It seems that the noise has woken Marcus up as well.

"Oh, Lucius!" says Marcus. "Are you really there! I hardly saw you at at all yesterday, and I really did miss you. And now all these horrid noises are making me very upset!"

Lucius thinks for a moment. Then, he realises that, despite all the exciting things that happened to him yesterday and the pleasure of attending Aemilia's engagement party, he, too, has missed his brother very much. "Well, then," says Lucius, "why don't you climb up on to my bunk, Marcus, and I'll give you a cuddle!" Quick as a flash, Marcus joins his brother on the top bunk, and, after a few moments, both boys, with their arms around one another, are sound asleep again.



APPENDIX:   CREDITS.

In the composition of the above story, use has been made of the following works about Roman life and society:

J.P.V.D. Balsdon: Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome (London,) 1969.
Jerome Carcopino: Daily Life in Ancient Rome (Paris,) 1939.
Humfrey Grose-Hodge: Roman Panorama (Cambridge,) 1946.
E.C. Kennedy and G.W. White: S.P.Q.R. The History and Social Life of Ancient Rome (London,) 1944.

HOMERIC HYMNS: 2) TO DEMETER

Introduction:

The Hymn to Demeter is the second in a collection of thirty-three anonymous ancient Greek hymns celebrating individual gods, mostly dating to the seventh century B.C., shortly after the works of Homer and Hesiod had first been written down, and they are therefore among the oldest monuments of Ancient Greek literature. In antiquity they were uncritically attributed to Homer, the earliest reference to them coming from Thucydides (see Bk III. 104). Although it is now clear they were not written by Homer, they were composed in the old epic style, i.e. in dactylic hexameters and in a dialect closely resembling that of Homer. Most of them are very short, if not fragmentary, but four of them, i.e. hymns 2-5, are more lengthy: (2) to Demeter 495 lines; (3) to Apollo 546 lines; (4) to Hermes 580 lines; and (5) to Aphrodite 293 lines.

The Hymn to Demeter is one of the main sources for the legend of the rape of Persephone (Proserpina in Latin) by her uncle Hades, who, with the encouragement of his brother Zeus, who was also Persephone's father, took her down with him to the Underworld, where he installed her as his queen. Persephone's mother Demeter (Ceres in Latin), the Goddess of the Crops, looks for her desperately, and, when she finds out what has happened, is so angered by her daughter's fate that she stops the crops growing. As a result human-beings starve, and the gods are denied their much valued sacrificial rights. At Zeus' request, Hades allows Persephone to return to the arms of her mother in the world above, but, because he has tricked her into eating a morsel - a pomegranate seed - , Persephone's reinstatement to the world cannot be total. Zeus, however, arranges for her to spend a third of the year, i.e. the winter months, with Hades in the Underworld, and the other two-thirds of the year with her mother and the other gods on Mount Olympus, and he then prevails upon their mother Rhea to persuade Demeter to accept this compromise solution. Calm is then restored to the world of the immortals, and the crops are allowed to grow again, much to the relief of all. This entertaining legend provided the ancients with a mythical explanation of the seasons, and was also the foundation of the Eleusinian mysteries, sacred to Demeter, which were so greatly valued by the inhabitants of Athens, and many others in antiquity, including the Emperor Hadrian.

The text for this translation is taken from "Homeric Hymns", edited by Hugh G. Evelyn-White, Harvard University Press, published by William Heinemann, London (1914), and is available on the 'Perseus' website, sponsored by the Classics Department of Tufts University.


Ll. 1-39.  Hades carries off Persephone with the connivance of Zeus.

I begin to sing of that revered goddess, fair-haired Demeter, and of her daughter with the long tapered ankles (i.e. Persephone), whom Aidoneus (i.e. Hades) carried off, and (whom) the far-seeing and loud-thundering Zeus had given him. Separated from Demeter, with her sword of gold and the bearer of beautiful fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus and gathering flowers from a soft grassy meadow: roses, and crocuses, and beautiful violets, and irises, and hyacinths, and the narcissus which, at the will of Zeus, the Earth brought forth (as) a marvellous gleaming snare for the blushing maiden to please the Host of Many (i.e. Hades): indeed, (it was) a thing of awe for all the deathless gods and mortal men to see: and from its root there grew a hundred heads: its odour smelled most sweetly, and all the wide heaven above, and the whole earth, and the sea's salt swell laughed (for joy). And then the (maiden) was amazed and reached out with both her hands together to take the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth gaped open (there) in the plain of Nysa, and the All-Receiving king, the many named son of Cronos, with his immortal horses (i.e. Hades), sprang upon her.

And he caught (her) up and, against her will, he bore her off, lamenting: then, she cried out in a shrill voice, calling upon her father, the most high and most excellent son of Cronos (i.e. Zeus). But no one among the immortals or among mortal men heard her voice, nor (did) the rich fruit-bearing olive-trees, but only the bright head-banded Hecate, the tender-hearted daughter of Perses, from her cave, and the lord Helios (i.e. the Sun), Hyperion's brilliant son, heard the maiden as she called upon her father, Cronos' son (i.e. Zeus): but he was sitting some distance apart from the gods in his temple where many people pray, receiving sweet offerings from mortal men. Then, at the bidding of Zeus, her father's brother, the much-named son of Cronus, the Ruler of Many (and) Host of Many (i.e. Hades), bore her off against her will by means of his immortal horses.

And so, as long as she, the goddess (i.e. Persephone), beheld the earth and the starry heavens and the strongly-flowing sea full of fish and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long does hope dispel her great heart of all its anxiety: and the tops of the mountains and the depths of the ocean echoed with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother heard her.

Ll. 40-86.  Assisted by Hecate in her search for her daughter, Demeter meets Helios, who tells her how Hades has seized Persephone and taken her down into the Underworld.

A sharp pain took hold of her heart, and she (i.e. Demeter) rent asunder the veil around her divine hair, and cast down the dark cloak from both her shoulders, and sped like a large bird over land and sea in search (of prey): but no one, either among the gods or among mortal men, would tell her the truth, nor did any bird come to her (as) a messenger of the truth. Then, for nine days, queenly Deo (i.e. Demeter) wandered here and there across the earth, holding flaming pine-torches in her hands, and, in her grief, she never tasted any ambrosia or sweet nectar, nor did she sprinkle her body with bathing water. But then, when the tenth light-bringing dawn had come upon her, Hecate, holding a torch in her hands, met her, and then, bringing the news to her, she spoke the following words: "Queenly Demeter, bringer of the seasons, (and) bestower of splendid gifts, what heavenly god or mortal man has carried off Persephone, and caused your dear heart such grief? For I heard her voice, yet I did not see with my eyes who it was: but I shall quickly tell you everything that is true."

So Hecate spoke thus: and the daughter of fair-haired Rhea (i.e. Demeter) did not answer her in words, but sped away swiftly with her, holding flaming pine-torches in her hands. Then, they came to Helios, watchman of the gods and of men as well, and they stood in front of his carriage, and the goddess among goddesses inquired of (him): "Helios, may you have pity on me, goddess as I am, if I have ever melted your heart and soul by word or deed: through the barren air I have heard that shrill voice of the daughter whom I bore, that sweet child in lovely form, like one who has been violently seized, and yet I saw nothing with my eyes. But you, for with your beams you look down upon the whole earth and over the sea from the heavenly ether, must tell me truly of my beloved child, if you have seen her anywhere, what god, or mortal man even, has taken (her) by force (and) against her will, and is gone off (with her)."

So she spoke, and the son of Hyperion (i.e. Helios) answered in these words: "Queen Demeter, daughter of fair-haired Rhea, you will learn the truth: for I greatly revere you, and pity (you) greatly in your grief concerning your daughter with the long tapered ankles: no one else among the gods (is) to blame but cloud-gathering Zeus, who gave her to his own brother Hades to be called his buxom wife: and he seized (her) in his chariot and drove (her) crying loudly down into his murky land of darkness. But, goddess, do cease your loud wailing: you must not keep such fruitless terrible anger: Aidoneus (i.e. Hades), the Ruler of Many, (is) not an unfitting son-in-law for you among the immortals, (being) your own brother and sprung from the same stock (as you): and, with regard to honour, he happened to receive the third share, when the lots were taken at the beginning, and he was assigned to be king of those among whom he dwells."

Ll. 87-117. Saddened and angry, Demeter abandons meetings with the gods on Mount Olympus, and, disguised as an old woman, she sits down by a well near Eleusis, where she is questioned by the daughters of Celeus. 

Speaking thus, he called to his horses: and, at his chiding, they pulled his nimble chariot swiftly along like long-winged birds. But grief, more terrible and more uncontrollable came into her heart: then, she was so angry with the cloud-wrapt son of Cronos (i.e. Zeus) that she forsook the assembly of the gods and high Olympus, and went to the cities and the rich fields of men, (while) softening her appearance for some time: and no one among the men and the low-girt women recognised (her) when they looked at (her), until the time when she came to the house of wise Celeus, who was then the lord of fragrant Eleusis. Saddened in her heart, she sat down by the roadside, by the Maiden well from which the citizens drew (water), in a shady (place), but above which there grew an olive-grove. (She looked) like an old woman, who is prohibited from child-bearing and (receiving) the gifts of garland-loving Aphrodite, like those who are the nurses of the children of justice-dealing kings and the housekeepers of their echoing halls. There the daughters of Celeus, son of Eleusis, saw her as she was coming for easy-drawn water in order to carry (it) in copper pitchers to their father's house; there were four (of them), like goddesses in the flower of their youth, Callidice, and Cleisidice, and lovely Demo, and Callithoë, who was the eldest of them all: they did not recognise (her): for the gods are discerned by mortals with difficulty. But standing near (her), they spoke winged words: "Who, and from where, are you, old lady? (Do you come) from people born long ago? Why then have you gone far away from the city, and not draw near to the houses? There in the shadowy halls (there are) women of just such an age as you, and there are some who were born younger (than you) who would certainly welcome you, both by word and by deed also."

Ll. 118-144.  Demeter tells the daughters of Celeus that she has arrived in Eleusis as a fugitive, having escaped from a gang of pirates, who had enslaved her. She asks for their help in finding a suitable household where she could work. 

Thus they said: and she, that queen among goddesses answered (them) with these words: "Dear children, whoever you are among the gender of women, greetings! I shall tell you my (story): (it is) not unseemly that I should tell you what you ask. My name is Doso: for my queenly mother gave it (to me). Now, indeed, I have come from Crete over the sea's wide back, not willingly, but pirates carried (me here) against my will by brute force. Then, they brought their swift ship into land at Thoricus, (and) there the women disembarked on the shore in a throng, and began to prepare supper beside the stern of the ship: but my heart did not crave a delicious meal, and by stealth I rushed off across the dark countryside in flight from my overbearing masters, so that they should not carry me, unbought, across the seas, in order to benefit from my purchase price. And so I came here in my wanderings, not knowing at all what land this is, and who are its inhabitants. But may all those who have dwellings on (Mount) Olympus give you men (as) husbands and children to be born (to you), as parents desire: and, then, have pity on me, maidens, and advise me clearly about this, so that I may learn, to the house of what husband and wife I may gladly go, dear children, so that I may willingly perform for them such tasks as an elderly woman can undertake: I could certainly well nurse a new-born child, holding (it) in my arms, and take care of the house and spread out my master's bed in a corner of his well-built bedchamber, and I could certainly teach women their tasks."

Ll. 145-183. At her daughters' suggestion, Metaneira agrees that the disguised goddess should come to work in her household.  

Thus spoke the goddess: and straightway the unwedded maiden Callidice, the best-looking of Celeus' daughters, answered her: "Good mother, we mortals suffer the gifts of the gods, and of necessity we grieve very much: for they are much stronger (than we are). But (now) I shall tell you clearly about all these (things), and name those men who have great power and honour here, and are chief among our people, and the diadems of our city are held (by them) in honour of their (good) counsels and upright judgments. With regard to discreet Triptolemus, and Diocles, and Polyxeinus, and noble Eumolpus, and Dolichus, and our heroic father, the wives of all of them manage in their house: not one of them would dishonour your figure at first sight and turn you from the house, but they will welcome you: for, indeed, you are godlike. But if you are willing, stay here, so that we can go to our father's house and tell our deep-bosomed mother, Metaneira, everything in full, so that she may bid you come to our (house) and not the houses of the others. Her only son, our brother, late-born, (but) much-desired and welcome, is being reared in our well-constructed house. If you could bring him up and he could reach a measure of youth, anyone of the female gender who saw (you) would certainly wish to emulate you: such (gifts) would she give you for bringing him up!"

So she spoke, and the (goddess) nodded her head (in assent): and they filled their shining vessels with water, and carried (them) off rejoicing. Quickly they came to their father's great house, and immediately told their mother just what they had seen and heard. Then she told (them) to go very quickly and summon (her to come) for a boundless hire-fee. As hinds or heifers may bound around a meadow in spring time, their stomachs sated with pasture, so they, holding the folds of their lovely garments, darted down the hollow pathway: and their hair bounced around their shoulders like a crocus flower. Then, they found the noble goddess near the roadside where they had left (her) just before: so then they led (her) to their father's house: and then she, distressed in her heart, walked behind (them) with her head veiled: and a dark shawl wound itself around the goddess's slender feet.

Ll. 184-211. Demeter enters the house of Celeus, and, despite some initial difficulties, she accepts Metaneira's hospitality. 

Soon, they came to the house of Celeus, cherished by Zeus, and they went through a portico, where their queenly mother was sitting beside a pillar of the thickly fitted roof, holding her son, her young scion (i.e. Demophoön), to her bosom; and they ran to her, but the (goddess) walked to the threshold, and her hair reached the roof and she filled the entrance with a heavenly radiance. Then, awe and reverence, and pale fear, took hold of her (i.e. Metaneira): and she gave up her couch and bade (her) be seated. But Demeter, the bringer of seasons, (and) the bestower of splendid gifts, would not sit down upon the gleaming couch, but stayed silent with her lovely eyes cast down, until (the moment) when the trusty (and) knowing Iambe (i.e. the witty but lame girl who was also a daughter of Celeus) placed a fixed seat for her, and threw a silver fleece over the top of (it). Sitting down there, she (i.e. Demeter) held her veil in her hands; she sat upon the stool for a long time without speaking due to her sorrow, and greeted no one either by word or deed, but lingered (there), never smiling (and) abstaining from food and drink, as she pined away with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter (i.e. Persephone), until the trusty and knowing Iambe, entertaining her with jokes, moved the holy queen to smile and laugh and be of a cheerful heart; then, indeed, she pleased her by her humour afterwards also. Then, Metaneira filled a goblet with sweet wine and offered (it) to her; but she refused (it): for she said that (it was) not permissible (for her) to drink red wine: and then she bade them mix barley-meal and water with soft mint and give (it to her) to drink. Then, she (i.e. Metaneira) prepared the potion and offered (it) to the goddess, as she had been instructed: then the great queen Deo (i.e. Demeter) received it in order to observe the sacrament (N.B. the drinking of this potion was central to the initiation ceremony of the Eleusinian mysteries and was the basis of communion with Demeter).

Ll. 212-247. Demeter is asked by Metaneira to become the nurse of her newly-born son, Demophoön. This Demeter gladly agrees to do, and under her care the boy grows up looking like a god, until Metaneira discovers that Demeter is placing him in the fire at night. 

Then, the well-girded Metaneira began to speak the following (words): "Hail, lady, for I do not think that you come from poor parents, but from noble (ones): dignity and grace are conspicuous in your eyes just as they would also be (in the eyes) of kings who administer justice. Yet we mortals have, of necessity, to endure the gifts of the gods, grieved though we be: for a yoke is put upon our necks. But now, since you have come here, you shall have whatever I (can give you). And raise for me this child, whom the immortals sent late-born and unexpected, yet (who) is much desired by me. If you should bring him up and he should reach a measure of youth, anyone of the female gender would certainly envy (you): such great (rewards) would I give you for bringing him up!"

Then, well-girded Demeter answered her once more: "You also, lady, all hail! And may the gods give you good (fortune): gladly will I take your son to (my breast), as you are urging me (to do); I shall nurse him, and neither, I trust, through any folly of his nurse, shall witchcraft hurt him, nor the Undercutter (i.e. a worm supposed to cause teething pains): for I know a remedy much stronger than the Woodcutter (i.e. a charm intended to address teething pains), and I know an excellent safeguard against witchcraft."

Then, when she had so spoken, she took (the child) in her fragrant bosom with her immortal hands; and his mother was glad in her heart. So, the (goddess) nursed in the palace Demophoön, wise Celeus' splendid son, whom the well-girded Metaneira had brought into the world; and he grew like a god, and thus not eating food or sucking his mother's milk. For each day the beautifully-crowned Demeter would anoint (him) with ambrosia as if he were born of a god, as she breathed sweetly upon (him) and held (him) in her bosom; but at night she would hold (him) in the heart of the fire like a brand, without his parents' knowledge: it was a source of great wonder to them that he became so precocious; for face to face he looked like a god. And she would have made him ageless and immortal, if the well-girded Metaneira had not kept watch by night from her sweet-smelling bed-chamber, and spied (on them); and she wailed and smote both of her thighs (in terror), fearing for her son and greatly distraught in her heart, and so she lamented and uttered these winged words:

Ll. 248-291.  Metaneira's anxiety about Demeter's treatment of Demophoön causes the goddess to become very angry.

"Demophoön, my child, this strange (woman) is burying you deep in the fire, and is causing me grief and bitter sorrow."

Thus she spoke in a mournful voice: and the goddess among goddesses heard her. Then, the beautifully crowned Demeter was (so) provoked by her that she snatched her son, to whom she had unexpectedly given birth in the palace, from the fire with her immortal hands and cast (him) from her to the ground, so terribly angry (was she) in her heart. So then, she addressed the well-girded Metaneira at the same time: "Unprepared and witless (are you) mortals to foresee your appointed lot, whether for good or for bad: for now in your folly you (have wrought) damage beyond healing. For may the relentless waters of the Styx bear witness to an oath of the gods, I would have made your beloved son deathless and ageless all his days, and (upon him) I would have bestowed imperishable honour: but now he cannot, by any means, escape death and destruction; yet unfailing honour will always be upon (him), for the reason that he lay upon my knees and slept in my folded arms. But then, as the years revolve around him in their seasons, the sons of the Eleusinians shall ever wage war and dread battle with one another constantly. Yet, I am that esteemed Demeter, who is the greatest source of support and joy to immortals and mortals (alike). But come, let all the people build me a great temple and an altar below it beneath the city, and a high wall upon a rising hillock above Callichorus. Then, I myself will lay down my rites, so that hereafter you may perform them perfectly and appease my heart."

When she had thus spoken, the goddess changed her stature and her looks, thrusting old age away from (her): beauty spread both around and about her, and a lovely smell was wafted from her fragrant robes, and a lustrous light from her immortal body shone afar, and her golden tresses lay upon her shoulders, and as a result that compact house was filled with sunlight (and) lightning; and she went right through the palace. And straightway her (i.e. Metaneira's) knees were loosened, and she became speechless for a long while, and she completely forgot to pick up her darling child from the floor. But his sisters gave heed to his pitiable voice, and so leapt down from their well-spread beds ; then one of them took up the child with her hands and laid him on her bosom, while another one kindled the fire, and a third rushed on her tender feet to arouse their mother from her fragrant bed-chamber. And they gathered together around him, and washed (him) as he struggled, and embraced (him) lovingly: but his spirit was not comforted: for now less skilful feeders and nurses were handling him.

Ll. 292-345. In her fury, Demeter causes a famine across the earth, and Zeus sends divine messengers to her to seek to persuade her to desist. 

All night long they tried to appease the glorious goddess, as they quaked with fear, but, as soon as dawn began to appear, they told the wide-ruling Celeus the truth, just as the goddess, the beautifully-crowned Demeter, commanded. So he called his numerous people to an assembly, and bade (them) construct a goodly temple to fair-haired Demeter and an altar upon the rising hillock. And they applied themselves with all speed, and they hearkened to his words and did as he commanded. And the (child) (i.e. Demophoön) grew like a divine being.

Now, when they had completed (their work) and ceased from their toil, they went, each (man) going to his own house: but golden-haired Demeter sat there apart from all the blessed (gods), and stayed pining with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter. Then, she caused a most terrible and most shameless year for mankind over the much-nourishing earth: the ground would not allow any seed to sprout, for the richly crowned Demeter kept (it) hidden; and in the corn-fields the oxen drew many a curved plough in vain; and much white barley fell upon the earth to no purpose; and so she would have totally destroyed the race of articulate speaking man by a grievous famine, and have deprived those who have their dwellings on (Mount) Olympus of the glorious honour of their offerings and sacrifices, if Zeus had not perceived and pondered (these things) in his heart. Firstly, he aroused golden-winged Iris to call upon fair-haired Demeter, the possessor of such a lovely form. Thus he spoke: and she obeyed Zeus, the dark-clouded son of Cronos, and she ran swiftly on her feet across the space between (heaven and earth). Then, she came to the citadel of fragrant Eleusis, and found dark-veiled Demeter in her temple, and, addressing her, she uttered these winged words: "Demeter, father Zeus, whose knowledge is infinite, calls you to come and join with the tribes of the immortal gods. Come now, and may not this word I bring from Zeus be in vain."

Thus she spoke, entreating (her): but her heart was not persuaded. Then again the father (i.e. Zeus) sent out all the blessed and eternal gods one after another: and they came in succession, and they kept on calling (her) and giving (her) many very beautiful gifts and such honours as she might wish to choose among the immortal (gods). But no one was able to win over her mind and will, (so) angry (was she) in her heart: and she firmly rejected their advice. For she affirmed that she would never set foot upon fragrant Olympus or let fruit spring from the earth, until she saw her fair-faced daughter with her own eyes. Now, when the far-seeing and loud-thundering Zeus heard this, he sent the Slayer of Argus (i.e. Hermes) with his golden wand to Erebus (i.e. the Underworld), so that, having won over Hades with soft words, he might lead forth the pure Persephone from the murky darkness to join the divine beings, and so that her mother, having seen her with her own eyes, might renounce her anger. And Hermes did not disobey, but straightway rushed speedily downwards to the depths of the earth, leaving his abode on Olympus. And he found that the king (i.e. Hades) was within his house, seated on a couch together with his tender wife, unwilling (though she was), through yearning for her mother: but she (i.e. Demeter) was far away pursuing her dread design, through the deeds of the blessed gods.

Ll. 346-397.  At Zeus' bidding, Hades agrees to send Persephone back to be reunited with her mother in the world above.

Then, the mighty Slayer of Argus stood near and said: "Dark-haired Hades, lord of those who have departed, father Zeus bids me bring noble Persephone forth from Erebus to join them, so that her mother, having seen her with her own eyes, may renounce her anger and dread wrath with the immortals: for now she plans an awful deed, to destroy the feeble tribes of earth-born men (by) keeping seeds hidden beneath the earth, and to bring an end to the honours of the immortals: and she maintains her dread anger and does not mingle with the gods, but sits aloof in her fragrant temple, (while) dwelling in the rocky citadel of Eleusis."

So he said, and Aidoneus (i.e. Hades), the lord of those beneath the earth, smiled grimly, and did not disobey the behest of Zeus the king: and he vehemently urged the thoughtful Persephone (as follows):

"Go, Persephone, to your dark-veiled mother, but keep a kind spirit and heart in your breast, and do not be so very melancholy far beyond all others: I shall not be an unseemly husband for you among the immortal (gods), (as I am) an own brother to your father Zeus: and, while you are here, you shall rule all those that live and move, and you shall have the greatest honours among those immortals. And for those who have wronged (you), those who may not appease your power, (by) performing pure rites (in your name) and paying (you) fit gifts, there will be punishment (i.e. delivered by the Furies) for the rest of their lives."

So he spoke, and the very thoughtful Persephone rejoiced, and hastily sprang up in her delight: but he on his part stealthily gave (her) sweet pomegranate seed to eat, arranging matters with regard to himself, so that she might not remain there continually with the august dark-veiled Demeter. Then, Aidoneus, the Ruler of Many, decked out his deathless horses at the front of his golden chariot. And she mounted the chariot, and beside (her), the mighty Slayer of Argus, took the reins and whip in his own hands, and drove out from the palace: and unconstrained they flew. Swiftly they came to the end of their long course: and neither the sea, nor river-waters, nor grassy glens, nor mountain-tops checked the career of the immortal horses, but they clove the deep air above them as they went. And, bringing them (to the place) where the well-crowned Demeter was staying, he halted (them) before her fragrant temple: and when she saw (them), she rushed forward, just as a Maenad (i.e. a Bacchanal) (does) down a mountain thick with woods. And on the other side, when Persephone saw her mother's beautiful eyes, she left the chariot and horses, and leapt down to run (to her), and fell upon her neck and embraced (her). But, (while) she was still holding her dear child in her arms, her heart suddenly sensed some snare, and so she trembled with a terrible fear and, ceasing her display of affection, she immediately asked (her) this question: "My child, surely you have not eaten any food while you were below? Speak out, (and) do not conceal (anything), so that we may both know: for, if that is the case, you may live apart from the loathsome Hades, and dwell with me and your father, the black-clouded son of Cronos (i.e. Zeus), and be honoured by all the immortal (gods).

Ll. 398-448.  Persephone tells her mother how Hades, with Zeus' encouragement, had carried her down to the Underworld, and it becomes clear that she must now spend a third of the year there as Hades' queen.  

"But, if you have eaten (any food), you must go back beneath the depths of the earth, and dwell (there) for a third part of the seasons every year, but for the (other) two (parts of the year), (you shall be) with me and the other immortals. But, when the earth shall bloom with every kind of spring's fragrant flowers, then you will come up once more from the murky darkness (as) a great (source of) wonder for gods and mortal men. And now tell (me) how the strong Host of Many (i.e. Hades) carried you off down into the murky darkness, and by what trick did he (manage to) deceive you?"

Then, the very beautiful Persephone answered her in reply: "Well then, mother, I shall tell you the whole truth: when Hermes the luck-bringer came, the swift messenger of my father, the son of Cronos, and the other heavenly ones, (bidding) me come back from Erebus, so that, having seen (me) with your own eyes, you might cease your anger and dreadful wrath against the immortals, I sprang up at once for joy: but he secretly put a pomegranate seed, honey-sweet food (that it is), in my (mouth), and forced me to eat (it) against my will. And I shall tell how, having snatched me up, he rushed off in accordance with the shrewd design of my father, the son of Cronos, and carried (me) off beneath the depths of the earth, and I shall relate the whole (story) just as you ask. We were all (i.e. Persephone was playing with the Oceanids, or the daughters of Oceanus, who are here listed) playing in a very lovely meadow, Leucippe and Phaeno, and Electra and Ianthe, and Melita and Iache, and Rhodea and Callirhoë, and Melobosis and Tyche, and Ocyrhoë with her sweet countenance, and Chryseïs and Ianeira, and Acaste and Admete, and Rhodope and Pluto, and charming Calypso, and Styx and Urania, and lovely Galaxaura, and Pallas, aroused by battles, and Artemis, the shooter of arrows, and we were gathering sweet flowers in profusion in our hands, both soft crocuses, and irises, and hyacinths, and rose-buds, and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus, which the wide earth made to grow just like a crocus. Indeed, I plucked (it) in my joy: but the earth parted from below, and from there sprang forth the strong lord, the Host of Many, and, bearing (me) in his golden chariot much against my will, he went down beneath the earth; and then I cried out in a shrill voice. All this (is) indeed true, yet it grieves (me) to tell (it)."

So then, having a united spirit all day long, they greatly cheered one another's heart and soul, and shared embraces: and their hearts ceased sorrowing. And they received joys from one another, and gave (them). Then, Hecate with her bright-coloured head-band came near to them: and often did she lovingly embrace the chaste daughter of Demeter: from that (time) the lady became her attendant and companion. Then, far-seeing and loud-thundering Zeus sent them rich-haired Rhea (as) a messenger to bring dark-veiled Demeter to join the company of the gods, and he promised to give (her) whatever honours she should choose among the immortal gods. And he agreed that her daughter (should go) down to the murky darkness for the third part of the revolving year, but that, for the (other) two (parts, she should remain) with her mother and the other immortals. Thus he spoke: nor did the goddess (i.e. Rhea) disobey the commandments of Zeus.

Ll. 448-495.

Swiftly, she rushed down from the peaks of Olympus, and then she came to (the field of) Rarus (i.e. the place, sacred to Demeter, where tillage was first practised), (which was) once the most fertile and fruitful corn-land, but then, not fruitful at all, it was lying idle and utterly leafless: and so the white barley was being kept hidden by the design of Demeter with the beautiful ankles: but then, as spring waxed, it was soon destined to be decked with long ears of corn, and its rich furrows to be laden with ears of corn (lying) on the ground, and the (rest) to be bound in the bands of corn-sheaves. There she landed, the very first (being) from the barren ether: and they saw each other with gladness, and were cheered in their hearts. Then, Rhea with the bright head-band addressed her (i.e. Demeter) thus: "(Come) hither, my daughter, (for) the far-seeing (and) loud-thundering Zeus is calling you to go to join the company of the gods, and he has promised to give (you) whatever honours you may wish for among the immortal gods. And he has agreed that your daughter (should go) down to the murky darkness for the third part of the revolving year, but that for the (other) two (parts she should remain) with you and the other immortals. So he has said that it will be thus arranged: and he has nodded his head (in agreement). But come, my child, and obey, and do not be so unceasingly angry with the dark-clouded son of Cronos. But let flourish forthwith the fruit which gives life to mankind."

So she (i.e. Rhea) spoke: and the well-crowned Demeter did not disobey (her): but straightway she made the fruit to spring up from the very fertile corn-lands; and the whole wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers. And she went to the justice-dealing kings, and showed Triptolemus, and horse-driving Diocles, and doughty Eumolpus, and Celeus, leader of the people, the conduct of her sacred rites, and she also taught her mysteries to all (of them), to Triptolemus and to Polyxeinus, and to Diocles (also), awful (mysteries), which no one way may in any way transgress, or pry into, or utter: for a certain deep awe of the gods checks one's voice. But (he) who (is) uninitiated into these sacred rites, and who has no part (in them), never has a share in such (good) things when he is quite dead down in the murky darkness. 

But, when the goddess of goddesses (i.e. Demeter) had taught (them) all, they set out to go to Olympus to the gathering of the other gods. And there they, awful and revered (goddesses), dwell beside Zeus, who delights in thunder; most blessed among men upon earth (is) the one whom they readily love: and forthwith they send Plutus (as) a guest to the great house, (he) who gives wealth to mortal men. But come now, holder of the land of fragrant Eleusis and seagirt Paros (i.e. a town on the coast of Cyprus) and rocky Antron (i.e. a town in Thessaly), revered queen Deo, bestower of splendid gifts (and) bringer of the seasons, (be) gracious, you and your daughter, the most beautiful Persephone, and grant (me) a well-pleasing substance for my song. And now I shall remember you and another song also.