HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XIX: ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON ARE RECONCILED.

HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XIX: ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON ARE RECONCILED. 

Introduction:

After the three long days of fighting, which have encompassed Books XI-XVIII, Book XIX sees the dawn of a new day.  At the beginning of the book, Thetis comes to Achilles, bringing him the armour which Hephaestus has made for him. Achilles wishes to go straight into battle, but Odysseus insists that the soldiers must eat first, and that he and Agamemnon must first be comprehensively and publicly reconciled. Then, the gifts which were promised in the Embassy to Achilles in Book IX are then handed over, including the return of the girl  Briseïs, who breaks into a moving lament, when she perceives the body of Patroclus. The Book ends with a vivid description of Achilles arming himself for battle, and the prophecy of the horse Xanthus, to whom Hera has temporarily imparted the power of speech, that Achilles is destined to die in battle.  

Ll. 1-36. Thetis brings Achilles the armour made by Hephaestus.

Now, saffron-robed Dawn arose from the streams of Ocean, to bring light to immortals and mortal men; and she (i.e. Thetis) came to the ships bearing the gifts of the god. And she found her beloved son (i.e. Achilles) weeping loudly as he clasped (the body of) Patroclus; and many of his companions were mourning around him; and she stood in their midst, and she took his hand and spoke these words and addressed (him): "My child, we must let this (man) lie, despite our grief, since now in the first place he has been slain by the will of the gods; but do you (now) receive this glorious armour, so very fine such as no man has ever worn on his shoulders."

So speaking, the goddess laid down the armour in front of Achilles, and all that cunningly-wrought (metal-work) clashed loudly. Then, trembling took hold of all the Myrmidons, and no one dared to look full at (it), but they fled away. But, when Achilles saw (it), then anger came upon him all the more, and his eyes blazed forth dreadfully from beneath their lids like flame; and he delighted in holding the glorious gifts of the god in his hands. But, when he had gladdened his heart in gazing at these cunningly-wrought (works), forthwith he spoke these winged words to his mother: "My mother, the arms the god has given (me) are works such as befit immortals, and no mortal man could have made (them). Now indeed I shall arm myself for battle; but I am sorely afraid lest in the meantime before my eyes flies should creep into his bronze-inflicted wounds and breed worms and desecrate his body, for life has gone from (it), and all its flesh may rot."

Then, the silver-footed goddess Thetis answered him: "My child, do not be concerned in your heart about these (things). From him, I will undertake to ward off the cruel swarms of flies that feed on (the bodies of) men killed in war; for even if he shall lie (here) for the full course of a year, his flesh shall always be sound (as it is now) or even better. But do you call the Achaean warriors to the place of assembly and renounce your wrath against Agamemnon, shepherd of the host, and arm yourself immediately for battle, and don your fighting spirit."  

Ll. 37-73. Achilles ends his quarrel with Agamemnon.

So saying, she implanted fearless strength in (him), and then she slipped ambrosia and red nectar into Patroclus down through his nostrils. so that his flesh would be sound. 

Meanwhile, the godlike Achilles strode along the shore of the sea, shouting fearfully, and he aroused the Achaean warriors. And even (those) that formerly used to abide in the gathering of the ships, the pilots, and those who were in charge of the ships' rudders, and the stewards, (who) were the dispensers of food on board the ships, even these now came to the place of assembly, because Achilles had reappeared, for he had been absent for so long from the grievous fighting. Then, two squires of Ares came limping along, the son of Tydeus (i.e. Diomedes), staunch in battle, and godlike Odysseus, leaning on their spears; for their wounds still caused (them) pain; and they came and sat down at the front of the assembly. Now, last (of all) came Agamemnon, king of men, bearing a wound; for Coön, son of Antenor, had wounded him with his bronze-tipped spear. Then, when all the Achaeans were gathered together, swift-footed Achilles stood up and spoke to them: "Son of Atreus, as it now appears, was this (strife) really better for the two of us, for you and for me, when with grief in our hearts we raged in soul-eating strife, on that day when I destroyed Lyrnessus and took (her). Then, all those Achaean (men) would not have sunk their teeth in the unspeakably great earth at the hands of their enemies, as I persevered in my wrath. For Hector and the Trojans that (was) better; yet I think the Achaeans will long remember the strife between me and you. But now let these (things) be over and done with, despite our pain, curbing the hearts in our breasts through necessity; and now, in truth, I cease my wrath, nor indeed do I need to be raging so stubbornly all the time; but come, do you rouse the long-haired Achaeans speedily to  battle, so that I may go forth against the Trojans and put (them) to the test once more, (to see) whether they will wish to spend the night by our ships; but I think that some of them (will be) glad to bend the knee (in rest), whoever shall escape the fury of war and my spear. 

Ll. 74-113. Agamemnon refers to Ate.

So he spoke, and the well-greaved Achaeans were delighted that the great-hearted son of Peleus had renounced his wrath. Then, Agamemnon, king of men, also spoke, from the spot where he was sitting, and not standing in their midst: "My friends, Danaan warriors, squires of Ares, when (a man) is standing (to speak, it is) right to listen, and it is not right to interrupt (him); for that is hard, even for (one who) is an experienced (speaker). But in the midst of a great uproar how should any man hear or speak? Then is he hampered, clear-voiced speaker though he be. To the son of Peleus I shall speak my mind; but do you other Argives pay attention and mark well my words, each one (of you). Often have the Achaeans said these words to me and chided me; but I am not to blame, but (rather) Zeus, and Fate, and the Fury that walks in darkness, for they implanted a cruel delusion in my mind on that day when I myself took away Achilles's prize (i.e. the maid Briseïs). But what could I do? (It is) God (who) brings all (things) to fulfilment. (It is) Ate, the eldest daughter of Zeus, who deludes (us) all, accursed (though she is); and her feet (are) delicate; for she does not touch the ground, but she walks over the heads of men, bringing harm to mankind, and so she constrains one or other (of the disputants). For she once even blinded Zeus, even (he) who is said to be the greatest of men and gods; but Hera, female though she is, even tricked him with her cunning on the day when Alcmene was about to give birth to the mighty Heracles in well-turreted Thebes. Now indeed, he (i.e. Zeus) spoke assertively to all of the gods: 'Listen to me, all (you) gods and all (you) goddesses, so that I may say the (things that) the heart in my breast bids me. Today. Eileithyia, (the goddess) of birth-pangs will reveal to the light a man who will rule over all those (who) dwell around (him, that is) of those men who are of the race of my blood.' Then, queenly Hera spoke to him with a deceitful intention: 'You will prove to be a liar, nor will you bring what you say to fufilment.  But, come now, Olympian, swear a solemn oath to me, that, in very truth, that (man) shall be lord of all those who dwell around (him), who on this day shall fall between a woman's feet, (that is) even one of those men who are of the blood of your stock.' So she spoke; now Zeus was quite unaware of her cunning, but he swore a great oath, and in so doing he was sorely misled.

Ll. 114-153. Agamemnon offers to compensate Achilles with gifts.

"Then, Hera darted down and left the peak of Olympus, and came swiftly to Achaean Argos, where she knew of the strong wife (i.e. Nicippe) of Sthenelus, son of Perseus. Now, she was pregnant with her son, and the seventh month had come; and she brought (the child) forward to the light, and he was before his time, and she forestalled Alcmene's childbirth, and stopped Eileithyia (from bringing on her pains). And she herself brought the news to Zeus, son of Cronos, and said: Father Zeus, who flashes bright lightning, I shall put some words in your mind: today there was born a valiant man, who shall be lord of the Argives, (namely) Eurystheus, son of Sthenelus, son of Perseus, of your stock; (so it is) not unmeet for him to rule the Argives.' So she spoke, and a sharp pain struck him deeply in the heart; and, forthwith, full of wrath in his heart, he seized hold of Ate by her brightly-tressed head, and he swore a great oath that never again should Ate, who deludes everyone, come to Olympus and the starry heaven. Speaking thus, he whirled (her) in his hand and flung (her) from the starry heaven; and she came quickly to the tilled fields of men. And he would always groan at the thought of her, whenever he beheld his dear son (i.e. Heracles) labouring at unseemly tasks, by reason of the trials of Eurystheus. In my case also, when mighty Hector of the shining helmet kept killing Argives by the sterns of their ships, I could not forget Ate, by whom I was deluded in the first place. But, since I was deluded, and Zeus stole my wits, now do I wish to make amends and to offer reparations without limit. But (now) do you prepare for battle and rouse the rest of our people. But I am ready to offer all of those gifts which godlike Odysseus promised yesterday when he came to your hut. Or, if you wish, abide here for a while, eager though (you are) for war, and my attendants will take the gifts from my ship and bring (them) to you, so you can see what agreeable (things) I will be giving you."

Then, swift-footed Achilles answered him and said: "Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, it is up to you whether you wish to give (them) as is fitting, or to keep (them). But now let us think straightaway of the joys of battle; for we ought not to be here plotting idly, nor wasting time; for (there is) great work still unaccomplished; so may one again behold Achilles amid the foremost, destroying the ranks of the Trojans with his bronze spear. May each one of you be mindful of this, as you are fighting your man."       

Ll. 154-183. Odysseus gives his advice. 

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, said to him in reply: "Brave (man) though you are, godlike Achilles, do not thus urge the sons of the Achaeans (to go) against Ilium to fight the Trojans while they are not eating, since the battle will not last for a short time once the ranks of men have met in battle and god breathes strength into both sides. But do you tell the Achaeans to consume food and wine by the swift ships; for therein lies their strength and their courage. For no man can fight face-to-face (with the enemy) all day long till the setting of the sun while fasting from food; for though in his heart he may be eager to fight, yet his limbs wax heavy unawares, and thirst comes over (him), and hunger too, and his knees grow weary as he goes. But the man who (is) full of wine and food shall fight all day long against the foemen, and now his heart in his chest is full of confidence, and his limbs do not grow weary at all, until everyone withdraws from battle. But come, dismiss the host and tell (them) to prepare the meal; and let Agamemnon, king of men, bring forward the gifts into the midst of the place of gathering, so that all the Achaeans may behold (them) with their eyes, and you can find delight in your heart. And let him rise up among the Argives and swear an oath to you that he never got into her (i.e. Briseïs') bed and had intercourse with (her), as is the way, (O) king, between men and women; and in your own (case) too, the heart in your breast will be gracious. And then he should make amends to you by a rich feast in his hut, in order that you should not at all be lacking in justice. And you, son of Atreus, will then be more righteous to others also. For it is in no way a source of blame that a king should make amends to a man, when he was the first to grow angry."     

Ll. 184-214. Achilles wishes to avenge the death of Patroclus before any feasting and receipt of gifts occur.

Then, Agamemnon, king of men, spoke to him again: "Glad am I, son of Laertes, to hear your words, for you have gone through everything in the case, and set things in order. And I am willing to swear this (oath), and my heart urges me (to do so), nor shall I swear falsely before god. But let Achilles remain here in the meantime, eager though (he is) for battle; and may all the rest of you stay here together, until the gifts can come from my hut and I can ratify the sacred oath (with a sacrifice). And upon you yourself (i.e. Odysseus) I am laying this (charge) and commandment: choose the best young men of all the Achaeans, and fetch all the gifts from my ship that we promised yesterday to give to Achilles, and bring the women (too). And may Talthybius (i.e. Agamemnon's herald) be quick to prepare a boar in the broad camp of the Achaeans for sacrifice to Zeus and the Sun."

Then, swift-footed Achilles said to him in response: "Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, it ought to be better to do this work at another time, when some pause occurs in the fighting, and there is not so much fury in my heart. Now those whom Hector, son of Priam, killed, when Zeus gave him the power, lie here mangled, and you (two) are urging (us) to (think of) food. I would definitely order the sons of the Achaeans to fight now, unfed (and) fasting, and, when the sun sets, to make ready a large meal, when we have atoned for our disgrace. But, before that, neither food nor drink shall go down my throat, when my comrade (is) dead and he lies in my hut rent by sharp bronze, with (his feet) pointing towards the door (i.e. the traditional position for a body awaiting burial), and around (him) his companions are mourning; therefore, these (things) are not matters of concern to my heart, but (rather is the thought of) slaughter, and blood, and men's grievous groaning." 

Ll. 215-237. With regard to the need for the men to eat, Odysseus over-rules Achilles.

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, said to him in reply: "O Achilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans, (you are) a greater (man) than I, and not a little stronger with the spear, but in counsel I would (claim to) surpass you by far, since I was born before (you) and have more knowledge. Therefore, let your heart hearken carefully to my words. Men quickly have a surfeit of battle, when the bronze (blade) strews the most straw (i.e. the bodies of dead men) on the ground, but there is little harvest, when Zeus, who has been made the dispenser of battle for men, has inclined his balance (i.e. has decided which side shall win). For it should not be that the Achaeans should mourn a corpse with the belly; for very many are falling in heaps every day; when would a man (ever) find respite from toil? But we need to bury him who is dead, hardening our hearts and shedding tears for a day; and those of us who survive the hateful fighting, must take thought for food and drink, so that we may fight the enemy warriors ever relentlessly, our bodies clad in stubborn bronze. But none of our people should hold back from accepting the summons to battle; for the summons (is) this: it will be hard (for any man) who shall be left behind by the ships of the Argives; but let us attack in full strength and arouse keen battle against the horse-taming Trojans."  

Ll. 238-275. The Achaeans sacrifice to the gods. 

So he spoke, and he took (with him) the sons of glorious Nestor (i.e. Antilochus and Thrasymedes), and Meges, son of Phyleus, and Thoas, and Meriones, and Lycomedes, son of Creon, and Melanippus; and they made their way to the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus. Then, straightway the word was (said), and the deed was done; and they bore the seven tripods, which he had promised him, from the hut, and twenty gleaming cauldrons and twelve horses; and speedily did they lead forth seven women skilled in excellent handicraft, and the fair-cheeked Briseïs (as) the eighth (one). Then, Odysseus, having weighed out ten talents of gold in all, led (the way), and with him other young men of the Achaeans bore gifts. These then they set in the midst of the place of gathering, and Agamemnon arose; and Talthybius, like a god with regard to his voice, stood beside the shepherd of the host, holding a boar in his hands. Then, the son of Atreus drew forth in his hands the large knife, that always hung beside the great sheath of his sword, and, beginning the sacrifice (by cutting) hairs from the boar, he raised his hands to Zeus and prayed; and all the Argives sat in silence in their places, duly hearkening to the king. And, looking up to the wide heaven he spoke in prayer: "May Zeus, the highest and best of the gods, be my first witness, then Earth and Sun and the Erinyes (i.e. the Furies), that punish men under the earth, when anyone of them has sworn a false oath, that I never laid hands on the girl Briseïs, neither on account of wanting (to go) to bed (with her), nor for any other reason. But she remained untouched in my hut. Now, if any of these (things is) falsely sworn, may the gods heap on me a great multitude of woes, such as they are wont to give to any man who sins against (them) when he swears."      

So he spoke, and he cut the boar's throat with the pitiless bronze. And Talthybius whirled around and cast it into the great depths of the grey sea (as) food for the fishes; but Achilles stood up and addressed the war-loving Argives: "You surely do inflict great blindness upon men; for otherwise you never would have (so) utterly aroused the fury in my breast, nor would he have led off the girl (so) inexplicably against my will; but maybe Zeus wished for the death of (so) many Achaeans to happen. But now, go to your meal, so that we can join together in battle." 

Ll. 276-308. Briseïs mourns the death of Patroclus.

So he spoke, and dismissed the quickly called assembly. Then they dispersed, each to his own ship, but the great-hearted Myrmidons took charge of the gifts, and, bearing (them), they made their way to the ship of godlike Achilles. And they placed them in the huts, and settled the women (in them), and the proud squires drove the horses to (join) the herd. 

But then, Briseïs, (she who) resembled golden Aphrodite, when she saw Patroclus cloven by the sharp bronze, flung herself around him and shrieked loudly, and she tore with her hands at her breasts, and her tender throat, and her beautiful face. Then, the woman, (who was) like unto the gods, cried out in lament (for him): "Patroclus, most pleasing to my hapless heart, (you were) alive when I went away from the hut and left you, and now I find you dead, (you) leader of the hosts; thus evil after evil ever awaits me. My husband, to whom my father (i.e. Briseus) and my queenly mother gave me, I beheld cloven by the sharp bronze in front of our city, and my three brothers, whom my own mother bore, beloved (as they were), they all incurred their day of doom. When swift Achilles killed my husband, and sacked the city of godlike Mynes, you would not even suffer me to weep, but you said you would make me the wedded wife of godlike Achilles, and that he (i.e. Achilles) would take me in his ships to Phthia, and celebrate his marriage-feast among the Myrmidons. And so, I bewail your death incessantly, kind (as you) always (were)."   

So she spoke while she lamented, and the women let out groans on account of Patroclus, and they each had sorrows of their own. Now the elders gathered around him (i.e. Achilles), beseeching (him) to eat; but, groaning, he refused: "I beseech (you), if any of my dear comrades will hearken unto me, do not now urge me to satisfy my appetite with food and drink, since this grievous pain has come upon me; till set of sun, I will abide and endure at any rate."

Ll. 309-348. Achilles continues to grieve for Patroclus.

So he spoke, and he sent the other chiefs away, but the two sons of Atreus remained, and so did the godlike Odysseus, Nestor and Idomeneus, and the old charioteer Phoenix, (who was) trying to comfort him as he sorrowed greatly, but in no way could he be comforted in his heart, until he sunk into the jaws of bloody battle. And, as he thought (of him), he heaved a heavy sigh, and said: "So now in truth, you too, (O) hapless (one), the dearest of my companions, you yourself would once have laid out before me a pleasing meal in my hut quickly and readily, whenever the Achaeans were eager to bring tearful war upon the horse-taming Trojans. But now you lie (there) mangled, and my heart goes without meat and drink, here (though) they are, out of my longing for you; for I could not suffer anything worse, not even if I should hear of the death of my father, who I think must now be letting soft tears drop in Phthia for want of such a son (as me); and I am waging war in a foreign land with the Trojans for the sake of spine-chilling Helen; nor even (of the death of) him who is being brought up for me in Scyros (i.e. an island in the central Aegean, off the coast of Euboea), my dear son, the godlike Neoptolemus, if indeed he still lives. For until now the heart in my breast had cause to hope that I alone should perish away from horse-grazing Argos (i.e. Thessaly) here in (the land of) Troy, but that you should return to Phthia, so that you might take my son from Scyros in your swift back ship and show him everything (of mine), my property, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house. For by now I presume that Peleus is either altogether dead, or perhaps he is still just living, but is sorely distressed by hateful old age, and is always awaiting sad news of me, when he shall learn of my death." 

So he spoke lamenting, and with (him) groaned the elders, each one (of them) remembering (the things) he had left behind in his home, and, as they grieved, the son of Cronos saw them and took pity on (them), and forthwith he spoke winged words to Athene: "My child, you have utterly deserted that noble man. In truth now, is Achilles no longer of concern to your mind at all? He is sitting (there) in front of his horned ships, grieving for his dear companion; now, the others have gone to their meal, but he (is) fasting and (is) without food. But go you and shed nectar and lovely ambrosia into his breast, so that (the pangs of) hunger do not come upon him."  

Ll. 349-386. Achilles arms himself for battle.  

So speaking, he urged on Athene, (who was) eager already; and she, like a bird of prey (i.e. probably a falcon) swooped down from heaven through the upper air. Now, the Achaeans were speedily arraying themselves for battle throughout the camp; then, she (i.e. Athene) shed nectar and lovely ambrosia into the breast of Achilles, so that the grim (pangs of) hunger should not come upon his limbs; then, she went back to the strongly-built house of her mighty father, and they (i.e. the Achaeans) poured forth from their swift ships. Now, as when Zeus' snowflakes fly thick, born cold in the sky under the blast of the north wind, so thick then (were) the bright-shining helmets being carried from the ships, and the bossed shields, and the strong-plated corselets and ashen spears. Then, sunlight struck the sky, and all the earth smiled around (them) beneath the gleam of bronze; and a din went up from beneath their feet; and in their midst godlike Achilles arrayed himself for battle. And there was a gnashing of his teeth, and then his eyes glowed like the light of a fire, and insufferable pain sunk into his heart; and then, in his rage against the Trojans, he donned the gifts of the god, (the things) which Hephaestus had worked (so) hard to make for him. First he placed the greaves around his legs, beautiful (they were) (and) fitted with silver ankle-pieces; and next he put the corselet around his chest. And about his shoulders he slung his silver-studded sword of bronze; and then he took hold of his great and sturdy shield, and light came from it like the moon's. And as when from the sea there appeared to seamen the light of a blazing fire, and it burns high in the mountains in a lonely farmstead; but the storm-winds are not with them but carry them over the fish-filled sea away from their loved ones; so from the beautiful and richly-wrought shield of Achilles a gleam went up into the sky; and he lifted up the massive helmet and set (it) on his head; and the helmet with its plume of horse-hair shone like a star, and the golden hairs which Hephaestus had set thickly around the crest, shimmered around (it). Then, godlike Achilles tried himself out in his armour, (to see) if it fitted him and (if) his splendid limbs moved freely in (it); and it became like wings to him, and raised up the shepherd of the host.  

Ll. 387-424. The horse Xanthus prophesies Achilles' death. 

Then, he drew from its casing his father's spear, heavy, huge and sturdy (it was); no other Achaean could brandish it, but Achilles only knew how to wield it, (that spear) of Pelian ash from the peak of (Mount) Pelion, which Chiron (i.e. the Centaur) gave to his beloved father (i.e. Peleus) to be the death of warriors; Automedon and Alcimus went about the yoking of the horses; and they set breast-bands around (them) and cast the bits between their jaws, and drew the reins back tightly into the chariot. Then, Automedon took the bright lash that fitted well in his hands, and leapt up on to the chariot; and behind (him) went Achilles, armed for battle, gleaming in his armour like the gleaming sun Hyperion, and he called out to his horses in a terrible voice: "Xanthus and Balios, famous foals of Podarge: "Now (let it be) different, and mind that you bring back your charioteer safely to the mass of the Danaans, when we have had enough of battle, and not as you left Patroclus (lying) there dead (on the field)."

Xanthus, the horse with the nimble feet, replied to him from beneath the yoke, and at once he bowed his head, and all his mane streamed downwards from the collar beside the yoke and reached the ground; for the white-armed goddess Hera had made (him) speak: "Yes, this time we shall still bring you back very safely, mighty Achilles; but for you the day of doom (is) near; we shall not be responsible (for this), let me tell you, but a great god and strong Fate (will be). For (it was) not through any slowness or laziness of ours that the Trojans were (able to) strip the armour from the shoulders of Patroclus; but (one of) the greatest of the gods, (he) whom fair-haired Leto bore (i.e. Apollo), slew (him) amid the foremost fighters and gave the glory to Hector. For we two (i.e. Xanthus and Balios) would race together with the blast of the west wind, which (men) say is the swiftest (of all things); but it is your own fate to be forcibly brought down by a god and a man (i.e. Apollo and Paris)." 

Then, when he had said these things, the Erinyes (i.e. the Furies) checked his voice. Greatly vexed, swift-footed Achilles answered him: "Xanthus, why do you prophesy my death? There is no need at all for you (to do so). Now, I myself know well that (it is) my fate to perish here, far from my beloved father (i.e. Peleus) and my mother (i.e. Thetis); but even so, I shall not cease until I have driven the Trojans to their fill of war."

So he spoke, and with a shout he drove his single-hooved horses amid the foremost.

 

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XIX: EURYCLEIA RECOGNISES ODYSSEUS

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XIX: EURYCLEIA RECOGNISES ODYSSEUS 

Introduction:

This book sees the completion of the Odyssey's 38th day of action. When the planned meeting between Penelope and Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, takes place, the beggar persuades Penelope that he has heard of Odysseus, and she orders her elderly serving-woman and Odysseus' former nurse, Eurycleia, to wash him. It is then that Eurycleia recognises Odysseus from an ancient scar that he has above his knee, and a description then follows as to how he acquired the wound as a boy when hunting on Mount Parnassus. Odysseus, however, then swears Eurycleia to secrecy, where his mother is concerned. Penelope then tells the disguised Odysseus about a strange dream she has, in which her domestic geese are killed by an eagle. While Odysseus interprets the dream favourably, Penelope is not convinced. Still unaware of the beggar's true identity, Penelope announces that on the next day she will set up a contest for the suitors, by which whoever can shoot an arrow through the twelve axes will win her hand in marriage. She then goes to bed sadly.  

Ll. 1-46. Odysseus and Telemachus hide the weapons. 

Then, the godlike Odysseus was left behind in the hall, contemplating with Athene the slaying of the suitors; and at once he spoke these winged words to Telemachus: "Telemachus, we must hide away absolutely all of our martial weapons (i.e. the spoils of war hanging on the walls as trophies); but you must beguile the suitors with placatory words (such as these), when they miss (them) and question you: 'I have removed (them) from the smoke, since they are no longer like the ones that Odysseus left behind, when he went to Troy, but they have been damaged as the draught from the fire has reached (them). And, furthermore, this greater (fear) has a god put in my heart, that, under the influence of drink, you might pick a quarrel among yourselves and wound one another, and thus bring shame upon the feast and your wooing; for iron of itself lures a man on.' "

So he spoke, and Telemachus was persuaded by his father, and called forth nurse Eurycleia and said to (her): "Good mother, I want you to keep the women in their quarters, until I can stow away my father's fine weapons in the store-room; these (things now lie) around my house neglected in my father's absence; and I was still a child (when he left). But now I wish to stow them away, so that the draught from the fire cannot reach (them)."

Then, his dear (old) nurse Eurycleia answered him: "Now, if only you would one day take the trouble to look after your house and protect all your possessions. But come, (tell me) who is to go along with you and carry the light? For you would not let the maids go, even though they were ready (to do so)."

Then, wise Telemachus said to her in reply: "The stranger (will do) this; for whoever lays hold of my rations, I shall not keep idle, even though he has come from afar." 

So he spoke, and she did not say a word (in reply), but she locked the doors of the stately hall. Then the two of them sprang up, Odysseus and his glorious son, and began to bear helmets, and bossed shields, and sharp-pointed spears; and before (them) Pallas Athene, carrying a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light. Then, Telemachus suddenly spoke to his father: "O Father, this (is) surely a great marvel (that) I am beholding with my eyes. After all, the walls of the hall, and the lovely pedestals, and pine-wood beams, and the pillars (that are) held aloft (all) shine forth in my eyes as if (in the light of) a blazing fire. For sure, one of the gods who inhabit Olympus (must be) there."

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered him and said: "Be quiet, and check your thoughts, and ask no questions; this, let me tell you, is the way of the gods, who live on Olympus. But do you go and take your rest, and I shall remain here, so that I may arouse the maids and your mother still more; and she, in her distress, will ask me about everything." 

Ll. 47-88. Melantho abuses Odysseus once more, but he responds firmly.

So he spoke, and Telemachus went along through the hall by the light of shining torches to his chamber to lie down, (the place) where he had previously gone to rest, whenever sweet sleep came upon him; now there he also lay down, and awaited divine Dawn. Yet, the godlike Odysseus was left in the hall, plotting the slaying of the suitors with (the help of) Athene.  

Then, the wise Penelope came forth from her bed-chamber, looking like Artemis or golden Aphrodite. And for her they put down by the fire, where she was accustomed to sit, a couch inlaid with ivory and silver; the craftsman Icmalius once made it, and beneath (it) he had placed a footstool for the feet, (that was) growing out from it, on which a large fleece was laid. There wise Penelope then took her seat. And white-armed handmaids came from the (women's) hall. And they began to take away the abundant food, and the tables and the cups from which those arrogant men were drinking; and they cast the embers from the braziers on to the floor, and piled fresh logs upon them in abundance, so there was light and warmth. 

Then, Melantho abused Odysseus again for a second time: "Are you still here now plaguing (us all) through the night, prowling round the house and ogling the women? But get you to the door, you wretched man, and be thankful for your feast; or you will shortly be pelted out of the house with a firebrand." 

Then, quick-witted Odysseus looked at her with a scowl and gave (her) this answer: "Good woman, why do you set upon me in this way with an angry heart? Is it because I am dirty and wear ragged raiment, and go around the country begging? For necessity drives (me) on. Beggars and vagrants are such men. For I too once lived in a house among men, a rich (man) in a wealthy (house), and I often used to give to a vagrant such as myself, whoever he might be and with whatever needs he might come; and I had slaves past counting, and many other (things) on account of which (men) live well and are reputed (to be) wealthy. But Zeus, son of Cronos, ruined my life; for he surely willed (it). So (beware) now, lest you should ever utterly lose all of that splendid position, in which you now excel among the handmaids; (and take care) lest your mistress should perhaps turn against (you) in her anger, or Odysseus should return; for (there is) still the chance of hope (being fulfilled). But if, as (you think), he is dead, and is no longer going to return, yet now, by the grace of Apollo, (he has) a son like him, (namely) Telemachus; and it does not escape his notice, if anyone of the women in the palace behave badly, since he is no longer of childish age.    

Ll. 89-147. Penelope and Odysseus converse. 

So she spoke, and wise Penelope heard him, and she rebuked the handmaid, and spoke these words as she addressed (her): "By no means, you presumptuous (woman), you shameless bitch, does your behaviour escape my notice in any way, an outrageous deed (it was), which you shall wipe from your own head (like a stain): for full well did you know that I was intending to question the stranger in my own halls about my husband, since I am exceedingly distressed."

So then, she also spoke to the housekeeper Eurynome and said these words to (her): "Now bring a chair (here), Eurynome, and a fleece (to go) on it, so that the stranger may sit down and tell his story and listen to me; for I wish to ask him questions." 

So she spoke, and she most speedily brought a well-polished chair and set (it) down, and on it she cast a fleece; then, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus sat down there. Then, wise Penelope began their conversation: "Stranger, this (question) I myself will ask you first: who are you (and) from where (do you come)? Where (is) your city and (who are) your parents?" 

Then, the ever-ready Odysseus said to her in reply: "My lady, (there is) not one man on this boundless earth (who) could ever find fault with you; for your fame reaches the broad heaven, like that of some blameless king, who is the god-fearing lord over many men, and he upholds justice, and the dark soil bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, and the flocks continually bring forth (young), and the sea yields fish through his good governance, and the people prosper under him. So, now (that I am) in your house, ask me any other questions, but do not inquire about my ancestry and my native-land, lest you fill my heart with pain the more I recall (the past), and I become very sorrowful; nor is it at all fitting that I should sit weeping and wailing in another's house, since endless lamentation (is) always rather tiresome; (I fear) that one of the housemaids, or even you yourself, might be displeased with me and say that I am full of tears because my mind is inundated with wine."

Then, wise Penelope answered him: "To be sure, stranger, the immortals destroyed my goodness, both in face and form, (on that day) when the Argives went off to Ilium, and my husband Odysseus went with them. If he were but to come and take charge of my life, so would my fame be greater and fairer. But now I am in mourning; for so many woes has some god brought down on me.  For all the chieftains who hold sway over the islands, Dulichium, and Same, and wooded Zacynthus, and those who dwell around far-seen Ithaca itself, they woo me against my will and lay waste my house. As a result, I do not take care of my guests or of my suppliants, or even of the heralds who are (here) on public business. But in my longing for Odysseus I eat my heart out. So they promote my marriage; and I contrive tricks (to deceive them). First, some god infused my mind with (the idea of) erecting a great loom in my halls, in order to weave a large and delicate robe; and at once I said to them: '(You) young men, my suitors, although godlike Odysseus is dead, eager (though you are) for that marriage of mine, be patient until I have completed this robe  - let not my threads be vainly wasted - (for it is) a shroud for lord Laertes, when the fell fate of remorseless death shall take him down. I fear lest any one of the Achaean (women) across this land should blame me, if he who has amassed so much wealth should be laid to rest without a shroud.' 

Ll. 148-189. Odysseus spins a yarn. 

"So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. Then by day I would weave my great web, and at night I would unravel (it), when I set torches beside (it). Thus, for three years I kept the Achaeans from knowing and I misled (them); but, when the fourth year came and the seasons slipped by, and the months waned, and many days had completely run their course, then, through (the connivance of) my housemaids, shameless and irresponsible (as they are), they came upon (me) and caught (me at it), and they reproached me with words (of anger). So, I completed it perforce, and against my will; and now I can neither escape marriage, nor yet find any other counsel; now my parents are very much encouraging (me) to get married, and my son is aggrieved because he is aware that our estate is being drained; for now (he is) the sort of man who can especially take charge of a house, to which Zeus attaches honour. But even so, do tell me of the stock from which you are (sprung). For you are not (sprung) from the proverbial oak-tree or rock."  

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered her and said: "O honoured wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, will you never stop inquiring about my ancestry? But I will tell you of (it); yet, in truth, you will be giving me more pains than (the ones) I have; for such is the case, whenever a man has been so far from his native-land as long as I (have) now, wandering through the many cities of men, while suffering sore distress; but even so I will tell (you) what (it is) you ask and inquire of me. In the midst of the wine-dark sea there lies a land (called) Crete, lovely and rich (it is) and surrounded by water; and on (it) there are many men, boundless in number, and ninety cities. And one tongue (is) mixed with others; and on (it there dwell) the Achaeans, and the great-hearted native Cretans, and the Cydonians, and the Dorians in their three tribes, and the noble Pelasgians. And (located) among them (is) Cnossus, a mighty city, and Minos was king there, (and) every nine years (he had) mighty Zeus (as) a companion, and he was the father of my father, the high-minded Deucalion, and Deucalion fathered myself and lord Idomeneus. But he had gone to Ilium in his beaked ships as an equal with the sons of Atreus (i.e. Agamemnon and Menelaus), and I, with the good name of Aethon, (was) younger by birth; but he was the older and the better (man). There I saw Odysseus and gave (him gifts of) friendship. For the force of the wind had driven him to Crete, having blown (him) off course at (Cape) Maleia (i.e. the south-eastern tip of the Peloponnese), when bound for Troy. So he put in his ships at a difficult harbour in Amnisus (i.e. the harbour of Cnossus), where the cave of Eileithyia (i.e. a goddess of childbirth) (is), and he only just escaped the storm winds.  

Ll. 190-240. Distressed though she is, Penelope continues to question Odysseus.  

Then, he went at once to the city and asked for Idomeneus; for he declared that he was his beloved and honoured friend. But it was now the tenth or eleventh day since he had gone with his beaked ships to Ilium. So I took him to the palace and entertained (him) well, heartily welcoming (him) from the great (store of goods) that was within the house; and, as for the rest of his comrades who were accompanying him, I gathered up and gave (them), at the public expense, barley meal and sparkling wine, and cattle to be slaughtered, so that their hearts might be satisfied. Now there the noble Achaeans waited for twelve days; for a strong North wind confined (them there), and would not even allow them to keep their feet on the ground, for some hostile god had aroused (it). But on the thirteenth (day) the wind dropped, and they put out to sea.   

As he spoke, he made his many falsehoods seem like the truth. And as she listened to (him), the tears flowed and her cheeks were drenched, and as the snow melts on the lofty mountains, so the East Wind thaws it, when the West Wind has let it fall; and, as it melts, the rivers fill up as they flow; so did the tears she shed drench her fair cheeks, as she wept for the her husband, who was sitting at her side. But while Odysseus had pity in his heart for his weeping wife, his eyes remained steady between their lids as if (they were made of) horn or iron; and with guile did he conceal his tears. 

And so, when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, she answered (him) again and spoke these words to him: "Now then, stranger, I mean to put you to the test, (to see) if you really did entertain my husband, together with his godlike companions, there in your palace, as you say (you did). Tell me, what sort of clothes he was wearing around his body, and what he looked like, and the companions who were accompanying him."      

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered her and said: "My lady, (it is) hard (for one) who has been parted (from him) for such a long time to tell (you this); for it is now twenty years from the time when he left this place and departed from my native-land; but I will tell you, as my mind pictures (him). Godlike Odysseus was wearing a fleecy purple cloak, (and it was) doubly-folded. And a golden brooch of his was fixed into a pair of sheaths; and on the front of it there was a curious (device): a hound was holding a dappled fawn, seizing (it) tightly as it writhed; and everyone marvelled at this, how, although they were made of gold, the (hound) was throttling the fawn as he held (it), but the (fawn) was writhing with its feet as it was striving to escape. And I noticed the glistening tunic around his body, (glistening) like the skin over a dried onion. So silky was it, and it was shining like the sun; and, indeed, many of the women gazed at it (in wonder). And I will tell you something else, and do you take (it) to heart. I do not know whether Odysseus wore these (clothes) around his body at home, or whether one of his comrades gave (it to him) when he embarked on his swift ship, or whether perhaps one of his guest-friends (did so), since Odysseus was a friend to many men; for few of the Achaeans were like (him).

Ll. 241-276. Odysseus prophesies his own return.

"I also gave him a sword of bronze and a fair purple double-folded cloak, and sent (him) off with honour on his well-benched ship. A herald also accompanied him, a little older than he (was); I will tell you of him too, what kind (of man) he was indeed. (He was) round-shouldered, dark-skinned, (and) curly-haired, and Eurybates was his name; and Odysseus honoured him above his other comrades, because he had thoughts in his mind that matched his own." 

So he spoke, and he aroused in her still more the desire to weep, as she recognised the sure tokens that Odysseus had shown her. But, when she had had her fill of tearful lamentation, then she said these words to him in reply:  

"Now, in truth, stranger, though before you were pitied by me, you will be beloved and honoured in my halls; for (it was) I myself (who) gave (him) this raiment, folded in the way you describe, (and) from the storeroom I brought forth the shining brooch to be a thing of delight to him; but I shall never welcome him back home again on his return to his dear native-land. Therefore, (it was) through an evil fate that Odysseus set forth in his hollow ship in search of that wicked (place called) Ilium (that it is better) not to name."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus said to her in reply: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, do not now mar your face any longer, nor let your heart melt away at all in weeping for your husband. Not that I would blame (you); for any (woman) would cry, when she loses her lawfully-wedded husband, by whom she has conceived children after having lain (with him) in love-making, (though he be) different from Odysseus, whom (men) say is like the gods. Yet do you cease from weeping and hearken unto my words: for I shall tell you truthfully, and will hold nothing back, that I now have news of the return of Odysseus, (and that he is) nearby (and) alive in the rich land of the men of Thesprotia (i.e. in Epirus in North-Western Greece); and he is bringing (home) many rich treasures, which he has begged from (the people of) that land. But he lost (all) his faithful companions and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, as he sailed from the island of Thrinacia (i.e. Sicily perhaps); for Zeus and Helios were at odds with Odysseus; for his comrades had slain the latter's cattle.  

Ll. 277-316. The disguised Odysseus continues to tell of the preparations he is making to return. 

"So they all perished in the stormy sea; but the waves cast him from the keel of the ship on to dry land in the country of the Phaeacians, who are akin to gods, and they honoured him most heartily, as if (he were) a god, and they gave him many (gifts) and wished themselves to send him home unscathed. And Odysseus could have been here a long time ago; but it seemed more profitable to his mind to gather goods by begging while he was travelling over the wide earth; so does Odysseus know beyond all mortal men (how to acquire) much wealth, nor could any other mortal vie with (him in this). So did Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, tell me this tale: and as he was pouring drink offerings in his palace, he swore to me that the ship was launched and the crew were ready who would convey him to his native-land. But he sent me off before (him); for a ship (full) of Thesprotian men happened to be going to Dulichium, rich in corn. And he showed me all the treasure that Odysseus had gathered together; and now would it feed (a man and) his heirs down to the tenth generation, so great (is) the treasure (that) is lying (ready) for him in the halls of the king. But he said that he had gone to Dodona (i.e. a town in Thesprotia, which housed the most ancient oracle of Zeus, whose responses were delivered by the rustling of oak-trees in its sacred grove), to hear the will of Zeus from the lofty foliage of the god's oak-tree, as to how he should return to his own native-land, having now been away for so long, whether openly or in disguise. So thus he is safe and will soon be here, (as he is) very near, nor will he still be far away from his friends and his native-land for long; at all events, I will give you an oath. Now may Zeus, the best and the greatest of the gods know (this) first, and then the hearth of the peerless Odysseus, to which I have come, that, in truth, all these (things) will happen as I say. (In the course) of this very month, both at the waning of the moon and at its beginning, Odysseus will be here."

Then, wise Penelope answered him: "(O) stranger, if only this word (of yours) might be fulfilled; then would you know at once of my kindness and of the many gifts from me, so that anyone who meets you would call (you) blessed. But thus it seems in my heart, even as it shall be; neither shall Odysseus ever come home, nor shall you obtain an escort (from here), since there are not such leaders in this house as Odysseus was among men, if ever there was (such a man), to welcome strangers with honour and send (them) on their way.  

Ll. 317-360. Penelope offers the stranger hospitality. 

(1) But (come), my maids, wash his (hands and feet), and make ready his bed, mattress, and coverlets and glossy blankets, so he may keep well warm till gold-enthroned Dawn should come. And, right early in the morning, do you bathe (him) and anoint (him) with oil, so that in our house at the side of Telemachus he may be mindful of food, as he sits in our hall; and, if any of those (men) should abuse that (man) in a spiteful manner, the worse (it will be) for him; he will no longer achieve anything here, however he may rage most terribly. For how will you learn of me, stranger, whether I, in any way, surpass other women in wit and wise counsel, if you should eat in my hall, bedraggled and clothed in  rags; and men are short-lived. Whoever is hard-hearted himself, and his hardness is evident, upon him do all mortal (men) invoke curses for the future while he is alive, and, when he is dead, all (men) mock (him); but if a man himself is blameless, and his blamelessness is evident, his guest-friends spread abroad his reputation widely among all men, and many speak well of him."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus spoke to her in reply: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, in truth coverlets and glossy blankets became hateful to me, (on the day) when I first turned my back upon the snow-capped mountains of Crete and sailed off in my long-oared ship, and so I will lie down, just as I have often spent sleepless nights upon an unseemly bed and waited for heavenly Dawn on her beautiful throne. Water for washing my feet brings no pleasure at all to my heart; nor shall any woman, of all those serving women in your hall, touch my feet, unless there is some old woman, trusty (and) knowing, who has suffered as much in her heart as I (have). I would not begrudge her touching my feet."      

Then, wise Penelope spoke to him once more: "Dear friend - for never yet has any man as discreet (as you), of (those who are) strangers from afar, come to my house as a more welcome (guest), as you say all your wise (words) with such eloquence; I have an old dame who has wise counsels in her breast, who tenderly nursed and reared my poor husband, having taken (him) in her arms, when his mother first bore him. She will wash your feet, rather frail though she is. But come now, wise Eurycleia, get up (and) wash the feet) of (someone who is) of the same age as your master; no doubt, Odysseus now has such hands and feet as his; for men age quickly in misfortune."     

Ll. 361-404. Eurycleia considers that the stranger is very similar in appearance to her master. 

So she spoke, and the old lady covered her face with her hands, and shed hot tears, and spoke these words of grief: "Woe is me, my child, as I can do nothing for you; Zeus must indeed have hated you above (all other) men, though you had a god-fearing heart. For no other mortal ever burnt so many fat thigh-pieces, nor such choice hecatombs, as you gave him, when you prayed that you might reach a comfortable old age and raise a glorious son; but now from you alone has he wholly cut off the day of your home-coming. Perhaps the women from some strange far away country mocked him in this way too, whenever he came to some man's glorious house, just as all these bitches (here) have mocked you, and now, in order to avoid this maltreatment and the many insults, you did not allow them to wash (your feet); but wise Penelope, daughter of Icarius, has told me (to do so), and I am not unwilling. Therefore, I shall wash your feet, for the sake of both Penelope herself and you, for the heart within me is stirred with sorrow. But come now, pay attention to these words that I would say: now many much-suffering strangers have come here, but I do not think that I have ever seen a man so like another, as you, in bodily shape, and voice and feet, are like Odysseus."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus said to her in reply: "Old woman, so they say who have set eyes on us both, that we are very alike one another, just as you yourself so shrewdly state." 

So he spoke, and the old woman took a shining cauldron to thoroughly wash his feet, and she poured much cold water and then (some that was) hot. Odysseus was sitting by the fireplace, but he quickly turned to face the darkness; for he suddenly had an anxious thought, that, when she took hold of him, she might notice the scar and his secret would become known. Then, she came nearer and began to wash her master; and at once she recognised the scar, which a boar had once inflicted on him with a white tusk, when he had gone to (Mount) Parnassus with Autolycus and his sons, (him being) his mother's (i.e. Anticleia's) noble father, who surpassed (all other) men in thievery and oath-taking; and the god Hermes himself gave him (these skills); for for him he was pleased to burn the thigh-pieces of lambs and kids; and he (i.e. Hermes) readily supported him (i.e. Autolycus). Now, when Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca, he came upon his daughter's new born son; then, when he had finished his supper, Eurycleia laid the (boy) upon his knees, and spoke these words and addressed (him) by name: "Autolycus, you must now find a name which you can give to the dear child of your child; for, to be sure, he is much prayed for."

Ll. 405-454. The young man, whom Autolycus has named Odysseus, kills the wild boar that had wounded him. 

Then, Autolycus answered her and said: "My son-in-law (i.e. Laertes) and daughter (i.e. Anticleia), do you give him whatever name I say; for I come hither wishing suffering on many men and women over the fruitful earth; so let his name be Odysseus in signification (of this). But, when he shall attain manhood, and shall come to the great house of his mother's kin at Parnassus, to the place where my possessions are, I shall give some of them to him, and I shall send him back rejoicing." 

Odysseus had come on account of these (things), in order that he might give him these glorious gifts. Then, Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus greeted him with (open) arms and words of welcome; and his mother's mother, Amphithea, clasped Odysseus in her arms, and kissed his forehead and both his fine eyes. Then, Autolycus told his glorious sons to prepare a meal; and they hearkened to his call, and at once they led in a five-year-old bull; and they flayed (it) and tended (it), and cut it up into little pieces, and they skilfully chopped (them) and stuck (them) on spits, and they carefully roasted (them), and distributed the helpings. Then all day long until sunset they banqueted, nor did their hearts feel at all the want of an equal feast; but, when the sun set and darkness came on, so then they lay down to rest and took the gift of sleep. 

But, when the early Dawn appeared, rosy-fingered (as she is), they went their way to the hunt, the hounds as well as the sons of Autolycus; and with them went godlike Odysseus; and they climbed the steep mountain of Parnassus, clothed in forest, and soon they reached its windy clefts. Now the Sun was just striking the fields with his rays, (as he rose) from the soft-flowing deep-streaming Ocean, when the huntsmen came to a glen; ahead of them went the hounds, keeping track of footprints, and behind (them came) the sons of Autolycus; and with them, close to the hounds, came the godlike Odysseus, brandishing his long-shafted spear. Now there a mighty wild boar was lying in a dense thicket; yet not even the moist strength of blowing winds could penetrate it, nor could the bright Sun beat it with its rays, nor could the rain drive right through (it); so thick it was then, even though there was very much shedding of leaves. Then around him came the noise of the feet of both men and dogs, as they came on in the chase; and out he came from his lair with his back bristling strongly and flashing fire in his eyes, and then he stood nearby them; then, first of all, Odysseus sprang forward, holding up his long spear in his stout hand. eager to smite (him); but, in anticipation, the boar struck him above the knee and darting at him from the side he tore a long (gash in) his flesh, but it failed to reach the man's bone. Then, Odysseus happened to strike him on the right shoulder, and the point of his shining spear went right through, and down he fell in the dust with a groan, and the life flew from (him).   

Ll. 455-498. Eurycleia recognises Odysseus.

Then, the dear sons of Autolycus took charge of the (boar's carcass), and they skilfully bound up the wound of noble godlike Odysseus, and staunched the dark blood with an incantation, and soon they were back at their father's palace. Now, when Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus had fully healed him and had given (him) glorious gifts, they sent him quickly back home in happiness to his native-land of Ithaca. Then, his father  (i.e. Laertes) and his queenly mother (i.e. Anticleia) rejoiced at his return and inquired into everything, (and) how he got his wound; and he told them in detail how a wild boar had wounded him with a white tusk as he was hunting, when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.  

This (scar) the old woman (i.e. Eurycleia) felt and recognised as she passed over (it) with the flat of her hand, and then she let fall the foot she was holding. Then, his shin fell in the basin, and the bronze vessel clattered as it keeled over to one side; and the water spilt on the floor. Then joy and grief seized her soul at the same time, and so her eyes were filled with tears and and her sturdy voice stuck (in her throat). Then, she touched Odysseus on the chin and said: "For sure you are Odysseus, my dear child; and I did not know you before, until I touched my master all over."

So she (i.e. Eurycleia) spoke, and turned her eyes towards Penelope, wishing to tell (her) that her husband was at home. But she (i.e. Penelope) could not meet her gaze nor pay her any attention, for Athene had turned her thoughts aside; but Odysseus, feeling for her (i.e. Eurycleia's) throat, gripped (it) with his right hand, and drew her closer (to him) with the other, and whispered: "Good mother, why do you wish to destroy me? You, yourself, did nurse me at that breast of yours; and now, after suffering many grievous woes, I have come home after twenty years to my native-land. But, since you have discovered (this), and a god has put (it) in your heart, keep silent, so that no one else in the house shall become aware of (it). For otherwise I will tell (you), and, verily, it shall be brought to pass: if some god shall shall subdue these fine suitors under me, I will not spare you, my nurse though you are, when I shall slay the other serving-women in my halls."  

Then, the wise Eurycleia addressed him again: "My child, what a statement has escaped the barrier of your teeth! You know how strong and unyielding my spirit (is), and I shall be held in check as though I were (a piece of) solid stone or iron. And another (thing) I will tell you, and do you lay (it) in your heart: if a god shall subdue the lordly wooers under you, then (shall I go through) the women in your halls and pick out (those) who are dishonouring you and (those) who are guiltless." 

Ll. 499-543. Penelope's dream.

The quick-witted Odysseus replied to her in answer: "Why do you mention them? There is no need at all for you (to do so). Now I myself will consider the position carefully and look at each one (of them); but you must keep silent about this plan, and entrust (matters) to the gods." 

So then he spoke; and the old lady went right through the hall to fetch water to wash his feet; for earlier it had all been spilt. Now, when she had washed (them) and anointed (them) richly with olive-oil, Odysseus drew his stool closer to the fire once more, so as to keep warm, and he covered the scar with his rags. Then, wise Penelope began speaking to them: "Friend, I myself still have to ask you this: for it will soon be time for sweet rest, at least for anyone to whom sweet sleep may come, despite their being distressed. But, in my case, a god has given me an immense grief; for by day I have my fill of weeping (and) sighing, as I go about my tasks, and keep myself busy in the house; but, when night comes and brings sleep to everyone (else), I lie on my bed and sharp sufferings throng around my throbbing heart (and) disturb me as I lament. As when the daughter of Pandareus (i.e. King of Crete), the olive-green nightingale (i.e. Aedon), sings sweetly, when spring is newly come, as she sits amid the thick foliage of the trees, and with frequent twists and turns she pours forth her many-toned voice, as she laments her child Itylus, the son of king Zethus (i.e. King of Thebes), whom through her folly she had one day slain with a sword, even so my heart is torn in two directions, this way and that, whether I should abide with my son and firmly guard everything, my possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house, out of respect for my husband's bed and for public opinion, or whether I should now go away with one of the suitors (here) in the palace, (the one) who is the best of the Achaeans in giving out countless wedding gifts. When my son was still a child and dependent, it was not permissible for me to leave my husband's house and get married (again); but now that he is grown up and has reached the prime of youth, now indeed he prays for me to go away from the house, concerned (as he is) for his property, which the Achaeans are squandering. But come (now), hear this dream of mine and interpret (it for me). I (keep) twenty geese (here) in my house, (that came forth) from the water to eat wheat, and I delight in looking at them; but there came forth from the mountain a great eagle with a crooked beak, and it broke their necks and killed them all; and they lay strewn in a heap in the hall, and he was borne aloft into the bright sky. Now, I wept and wailed, even though (it was) in a dream, and Achaean (women) with beautiful tresses gathered around me, as I grieved piteously that an eagle had killed my geese. 

Ll. 544-575. Penelope proposes a challenge for the suitors.

"Back then he (i.e. the eagle) came, and perched on a projecting roof-beam, and checked (my tears) by speaking in a human voice: 'Be of good cheer, daughter of far-famed Icarius; (this is) no dream, but (it is) a reality (and) a good (one), which will surely find fulfilment. The geese (are) the wooers, and I, (who) before was an eagle to you, have now come back as your husband, who will inflict a cruel death on all of the wooers.' So he spoke, and, looking around, I saw the geese in the halls, feeding on wheat beside the trough where they used (to feed)."  

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, spoke to her in reply: "It is not possible to interpret this dream to give another meaning, since Odysseus himself has surely shown you how he will bring it about; the downfall of all the suitors is plainly to be seen, and not one (of them) will escape death and his fate." 

Now, wise Penelope addressed him again: "Dreams, my friend, are baffling and confusing (things), nor does everything come true at all in the case of men. For there are two gates of fleeting dreams: of these, those that pass through (the gates) of sawn ivory, they are deceivers (of men), and bring forth fruitless words; but those that pass through the gates of polished horn, they shall bring to pass true (things), when any mortal shall see (them). But, in my case, I do not think my uncanny dream came from there; truly, that would have been welcome to me and my son. But I will tell you something else, and do you lay (it) on your heart: the hateful day is (drawing near), that will draw me from the house of Odysseus; for now I shall lay down for a contest the axes which he used to set up in a row in his halls like props (under a new keel), twelve in all, then, standing some distance away, he used to shoot an arrow through (them).    

Ll. 576-604. Prior to the contest, Penelope withdraws to her bedchamber. 

"And now I shall launch this contest between the wooers; whichever one (of them) shall string a bow in his hands most easily, and shoot an arrow through all twelve axes, with him will I go and turn my back on this home (of mine), (a house) most fair and full of life, which I think I shall always remember, even in my dreams."

Then, in reply to her, the resourceful Odysseus said: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, do not now delay this contest in your palace any longer; for, let me tell you, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, will be here long before those (men), as they fondle the polished bow, should have strung a bow-spring and shot an arrow through the iron (rings)."

Then, wise Penelope addressed him again: "If, my friend, you would only sit here in my hall and give me the pleasure (of your company), sleep should never fall upon my eyelids. But it is not possible that men shall be forever sleepless; for the gods, let me tell you, have given mortals a proper time for everything upon the fruitful earth. But, now indeed, I shall go upstairs and lie down on my bed, which, in my case, is the cause of groans, (as it is) ever soiled by my tears, from the time when Odysseus went away to Evil-Ilium, which I choose not to name. There I shall lie down; as for you, lie down somewhere in the house, either spread bedding on the floor, or let (the servants) set down a couch for you."

So speaking, she went up to her bright upper chamber, not alone but her handmaids went with her as well. And, when she had gone upstairs with her serving women, then she wept for Odysseus, her beloved husband, until bright-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids. 

HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XVIII: THE SHIELD OF ACHILLES

HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XVIII: THE SHIELD OF ACHILLES. 

Introduction:

This book, which is especially memorable for its graphic description of the designs, which Hephaestus, the god of blacksmiths and carpenters, makes on the shield which he designs for Achilles at the request of his mother Thetis, is also significant because it sees the end of the long third day of fighting, which begins as far back as Book XI - see l. 242 - after Nestor's son, Antiochus has brought the sad news of Patroclus' death to Achilles, and Thetis has come from the sea to try to console Achilles. When night falls the Trojans meet in assembly (see ll. 242-314), and one of their leaders, Polydamas, wisely counsels that they should return to the safety of their city, but Priam's son Hector strongly disagrees and insists that they continue the fight to try to capture the Achaean ships, and his view prevails. Meanwhile, Achilles promises to avenge Patroclus by killing Hector, even though he knows this will bring about his own early death (ll. 314-367). During the night Thetis goes to Olympus and persuades Hephaestus to make a new suit of armour and shield for Achilles, as Hector has carried off the armour that he lent to Patroclus, and is wearing it himself (see ll. 368-461). The rest of the book is largely taken up with a lengthy and detailed description of the designs on the shield, and the three circles, which are lodged between the central boss and the outer rim, feature a microcosm of human life and activity (ll. 490-606).  

Ll. 1-21. Antilochus tells Achilles that Patroclus is dead. 

So they fought on like blazing fire, and the swift-footed Antilochus came with the news to Achilles. And he found him in front of his ships with their upright horns, contemplating in his heart those things which had now come to pass; and, sorely troubled (as he was), he then spoke to his great-hearted spirit: "O woe is me, why then are the long-haired Achaeans being driven back again over the plain in terror to the ships? May the gods not bring to pass, as I fear they may, those grievous woes to my heart, even as my mother once revealed, when she said to me that, while I was still living, the best of the Myrmidons would leave the light of the sun beneath the hands of the Trojans. For sure, the valiant son of Menoetius must now be dead - foolhardy (as he was)! And yet I bade him come back to the ships, once the enemy's fire had been pushed back, and not fight bravely with Hector."

While he pondered these (things) in his mind and in his heart, the son of noble Nestor (i.e. Antilochus) came up close to him, shedding hot tears, and gave (him) the painful message: "Woe is me, (you) son of the warrior Peleus, now indeed you must hear grievous tidings (of something) that ought never to have happened. Patroclus lies (dead), and now they are fighting over his naked corpse; and Hector of the shining helmet has your armour."  

Ll. 22-64. Thetis and the Nereids join Achilles in his sorrow. 

So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief enveloped him (i.e. Achilles); and, taking up the sooty dust in both of his hands, he strewed (it) over his head, and soiled his handsome face; and the black ashes settled upon his sweet-smelling tunic. And he, himself, lay outstretched in the dust, mighty in his mightiness, and he defiled his hair, as he tore at (it) with his hands. And the handmaids that Achilles and Patroclus had seized as booty, shrieked aloud in anguish of heart, and they ran outside around the warrior Achilles, and they all beat their breasts with their hands, and the knees of each one of them were loosed beneath (her). And on the other side Antilochus wailed and shed tears, as he held the hands of Achilles, as he (i.e. Achilles) let out a groan from his noble heart; for he (i.e. Antilochus) feared that he might cut his throat with a knife. Then he (i.e. Achilles) gave a terrible cry, and his queenly mother (i.e. Thetis) heard (him) as she sat in the sea beside the old man, her father (i.e. Nereus), and then she wailed aloud at once; and the goddesses gathered around her, all (of them) daughters of Nereus, who were (there) in the depths of the sea. There were Glauce, and Thaleia, and Cymodoce, Nesaea, and Speio, and Thoë, and ox-eyed Halië, and Cymothoë, and Actaea, and Limnoreia, and Melite, and Iaera, and Amphithoë, and Agaue, and Doto, and Proto, and Pherousa, and Dynamene, and Dexamene, and Amphinome, and Callaneira, and Doris, and Panope, and the renowned Galateia, and Nemertes, and Apseudes, and Callianassa; and then there were Clymene, Ianeira, and Ianassa, and Maera, and Oreithia, and Amatheia with the lovely hair, and the other daughters of Nereus, who were (there) in the depths of the sea. And the shining-white cavern was filled with them; and they all beat their breasts together, and Thetis took the lead in the laments: "Listen, sister Nereids, so you can all well hear and know the sorrows that (are) in my heart. Woe is me, wretched as I am, woe is me, mother of the noblest son, since I bore a son, both noble and strong, (and) pre-eminent among warriors; and he shot up like a sapling; and, having tended him like a tree in a fruitful orchard, I sent him forth in the beaked ships to Ilium to fight the Trojans; but I shall never welcome him once more to the house of Peleus on his return home. Yet, while he lives (here) with me and sees the light of the sun, he is suffering, and I cannot give him any help when I go (to him). But go I shall, so that I may hear my dear son and hear what grief has come to him, while he holds aloof from the fighting." 

Ll. 65-96. Achilles tells Thetis of his grief at the death of Patroclus.

So saying, she left the cavern; and they (i.e. the Nereids) went with her in tears, and the waves of the sea burst around them; and, when they came to the very fertile (land of) Troy, they went, one after another, on to the beach, where the ships of the Myrmidons were drawn up closely around swift Achilles. His queenly mother stood beside him, groaning heavily (as he was), and, with a shrill cry, she took up his head (in her arms) and spoke these winged words to him as she wailed: "My son, why are you weeping? What grief has come upon your heart? Speak out and do not hide (it)! The things you wanted have been brought to pass by Zeus, as you once prayed with outstretched hands that all of the sons of the Achaeans should be confined on the sterns (of their ships), desperately in need of you, and suffering cruel things."

Then, groaning heavily, swift-footed Achilles answered her: "My mother, the Olympian has certainly done these (things) for me; but what pleasure do I (derive) from them, when my dear comrade Patroclus is dead, (he) whom I valued above all my companions (and) equally with my own life? Him have I lost, and Hector, (who) slew (him), has stripped from (him) that fine, that mighty armour, a wonder to behold; the gods gave it (as) a glorious gift to Peleus on the day when they laid you in the bed of a mortal man. If only you had remained there with the immortal (goddesses) of the sea, and Peleus had wed a mortal wife. But in fact (they made you the wife of a mortal), so that you too would have the infinite grief of losing a son, whom you may never welcome home again as he returns, since my heart does not bid me live on, nor abide among men, unless Hector is first struck by my spear and shall lose his life, and repay (me) for the plundering of Patroclus, son of Menoetius."  

Then, shedding tears, Thetis spoke to him once more: "Then, my child, (if) you say such (things), you will die early; for straightway after Hector is your own doom at hand." 

Ll. 97-126. Achilles resolves to return to battle and kill Hector. 

Then, deeply moved, the swift-footed Achilles spoke to her: "May I die straightaway, since I was not, it seems, destined to bring succour to my comrade when he was slain; for he died very far from his native-land, and he had need of me to protect (him) from destruction. And now, since I shall not be returning to my dear native-land, nor have I proved to be any light of deliverance to Patroclus or to any other of his companions, many of whom have been overpowered by godlike Hector, but I have sat (here) by the ships, a useless burden upon the land, (I who) am (one) such as no one (else) among the bronze-clad Achaeans (is) in war, although there are others (who are) better in council, so may strife perish among gods and men, and the anger that causes even wise (men) to become ill-tempered, and that (is) much sweeter (to men) than trickling honey, and swells in the breasts of men like smoke; so has Agamemnon, king of men, now moved me to wrath. But we should let these (things) be, despite our pain, forcing down the anger in our hearts; but now I shall go to find Hector, the killer of my dear comrade; and I shall now accept my fate, whenever Zeus and the other immortal gods should wish to bring (it) about. For neither did even the mighty Heracles escape death, even though he was most dear to the lord Zeus, son of Cronos, but fate and the dreaded wrath of Hera overcame him; so also shall I, if the same fate is in store for me, lie low when I am dead; but now let me win glorious renown, and cause some deep-bosomed Trojan and Dardanian (women) to wipe with both hands the tears from their tender cheeks and to groan loudly, and let (them) know that I have kept away from the fighting for far too long (i.e. for sixteen days in fact). And do not (try to) hold me back from the fighting, even though you love me; for you will not persuade me." 

Ll. 127-147. Thetis promises to arrange fresh armour for Achilles. 

Then did the silver-footed goddess Thetis answer him: "Yes indeed. my child, for it is truly no bad (thing) to save your hard-pressed companions from utter destruction. But your fine armour is held among the Trojans, gleaming in bronze (as it is); Hector of the shining helmet exults as he wears it himself on his shoulders; but I do not think he will have pride in it for long, as his death is close at hand. But yet you must not enter into the fray of war, until you see me before your eyes returning here; for in the morning I shall return at the rising of the sun, bearing fine armour from lord Hephaestus."

So saying, she turned away from her son, and turning her attention to her sister of the sea (i.e. the Nereids) she said to (them): "Do you now plunge into the broad lap of the ocean, in order that you may behold the old man of the sea (i.e. Nereus)  and our father's house, and tell him everything; and I shall go to lofty Olympus, to Hephaestus, the master-craftsman, (to see) if he will be willing to give my son some glorious bright-shining armour."

So she spoke, and, at once, they plunged beneath the swell of the sea; and then the goddess, silver-footed Thetis made her way to Olympus, in order to bring back glorious armour for her dear son.    

Ll. 148-180. Hera tells Achilles to show himself to the Trojans. 

Her feet bore her to Olympus; but the Achaeans, amid fearful shouting, (were) driven in flight by man-slaying Hector, and came to the ships and the Hellespont. Yet, the well-greaved Achaeans could not drag back the corpse of Achilles' squire Patroclus out of range of the missiles; for then again did the host and the chariots catch up with it, as did Hector, the son of Priam, like a flame in his fury. Three times did glorious Hector seize him by the feet from behind, yearning to drag (him) away, and loudly did he call upon the Trojans; three times did the two Aiantes, clad in fighting spirit, drive (him) away from the corpse by force; but he, trusting firmly in his own strength, sometimes charged into the fray, and sometimes stood his ground, shouting loudly; but he would not go backwards at all. And, just as rural shepherds cannot in any way drive a tawny lion away from a carcass when it is very hungry, so the two warrior Aiantes could not scare Priam's son Hector away from the corpse. And now he would have dragged (it) away and won unspeakable glory, if swift Iris, with her feet as quick as the wind, had not come running from Olympus with a message for the son of Peleus, unbeknown to Zeus and the other gods,  that he should arm himself; for Hera had sent her. And she drew nigh, and spoke these winged words to (him): "Arise, son of Peleus, the most dreaded of all men; come to the aid of Patroclus, for whose sake a dreadful battle is taking place in front of the ships, and they are killing each other, some (i.e. the Achaeans) fighting in defence of the dead body, and the Trojans are longing to drag (it) to windy Ilium; and glorious Hector is especially keen to drag (him) away; and his heart bids him to cut the head from the tender neck and fix (it) on the stakes of the palisade. But up (you get) and do not lie (there) any longer! And let a feeling of awe come over your heart that Patroclus should become a plaything of the Trojan dogs; the shame (will be) yours if the corpse should come (to be) at all disfigured."    

Ll. 181-218. The voice of Achilles terrifies the Trojans.

Then did the swift-footed godlike Achilles answer her: "Now, goddess Iris, which one of the gods sent you to me as a messenger?"

Then did swift Iris, with her feet as quick as the wind, speak to him again: "Hera, the glorious wife of Zeus, sent me forth; and the son of Cronos, who sits on high, knows nothing (of this), neither (do) any other of the immortals who dwell upon snow-capped Olympus."

Then, swift-footed Achilles spoke to her in reply: "So how am I to enter the fray? For those yonder have my armour; and my dear mother does not allow me to arm myself, until I behold her (here) before my eyes on her return; for she promised to bring me some beautiful armour from Hephaestus. And I know no one else whose glorious armour I might don, except the shield of Telamonian Ajax. But he, himself, I imagine, is consorting with the front ranks, slashing away with his spear beside the dead Patroclus. 

Then swift Iris, with her feet as quick as the wind, spoke to him again: "Well do we also know that they are holding your glorious armour, but go to the trench just as you are, and show yourself to the Trojans, so that, in their fear of you, the Trojans may desist from fighting, and the warrior sons of the Achaeans may gain some relief, weary (as they are); for (there is) little respite in war."

When she had spoken thus, the swift-footed Iris departed, but Achilles, beloved of Zeus, got up, and Athene flung her tasselled aegis around his mighty shoulders, and that most divine of goddesses put a golden cloud around his head, and from it there burned a bright-shining flame. And, as when smoke goes up from a city and reaches the sky from an island in the distance, which their enemies are attacking, the (inhabitants) contend with hateful Ares all day long from their own city; but, when the sun sets, the throng of beacons blazes forth, and the glare shoots up for their neighbours to see, in the hope that they might come (across) in their ships to protect (them) from destruction; such (was) the light (that) blazed up into the sky from the head of Achilles; then, he went from the wall to the trench, and took his stand, but he did not attach himself to the Achaeans; for he had regard to his mother's wise behest. There he stood and shouted, and aside from (him) Pallas Athene raised her voice; but among the Trojans (his voice) caused an unspeakable tumult. 

Ll. 219-242. The Achaeans recover the body of Patroclus.

As when the voice of a trumpet sounds out loud and clear when a city is surrounded by murderous enemies, so clear then was the voice of the grandson of Aeacus (i.e. Achilles). And so, when they heard the brazen voice of the grandson of Aeacus, the hearts of all (of them) shook with fear; even the fair-maned horses turned their chariots back; for they foresaw pain in their hearts. And the charioteers were stricken with fear, when they saw the tireless fire blazing fearfully over the head of the great-hearted son of Peleus, and the bright-eyed goddess Athene made it blaze, Thrice did the godlike Achilles shout loudly over the trench, and thrice were the Trojans and their renowned allies thrown into panic. And there and then did twelve of their best men perish amid their own chariots and spears. But the Achaeans gladly drew Patroclus out of the range of the missiles and laid (him) on a bier; and his beloved comrades  thronged around (him) weeping; and swift-footed Achilles followed after them, shedding hot tears, as he saw his trusty comrade lying on a litter, cloven asunder by sharp bronze. In truth had he sent him to war with horses and chariots, but never did he welcome (him) back again on his return. 

Then, ox-eyed queenly Hera sent the tireless sun reluctantly on his way to the stream of Ocean; so set the sun, and the godlike Achaeans could desist from the mighty strife and evenly balanced warfare. 

Ll. 243-283. The Trojan assembly.

And, on the other side, the Trojans, when they returned from the fierce conflict, loosed their swift horses from beneath their carriages, and gathered together in their assembly before they saw to their supper. And the assembly was held (with them) rightly standing up, and no one was minded to sit; for trembling had come upon all (of them), because Achilles had shown himself, although he had held himself aloof from the fighting for a long time. Then among them wise Polydamas, the son of Panthoüs, was the first to speak, for he alone had eyes for the future and the past; and he was a comrade of Hector, and on the same night were they born, but the former was much the better at speech, and the latter with the spear; then, he addressed them with good intentions: "Think very carefully about (our situation), my friends; now I for my part bid (you) go now to the city, and not await bright dawn on the plain beside the ships; for we are far from the wall. As long as this man (i.e. Achilles) maintained his anger against godlike Agamemnon, so too were the Achaeans easier to fight with; for I too was glad to spend the night by the swift ships, in the hope that we should take those ships, rowed on both sides (as they are). But now do I terribly fear the swift-footed son of Peleus; so violent (is) his spirit that he will not wish to abide on the plain, where in its centre Trojans and Achaeans share in the might of Ares, but he will fight for our city and our wives. But let us go the city, and do you put your trust in me; for it will be as I say; immortal night has now halted the swift-footed son of Peleus; but if tomorrow he comes upon us while we are here, and rushes at (us) with his armed strength, then many a man shall know him well; for gladly will he reach sacred Ilium, whoever escapes (that is), and dogs and vultures will feed on many of the Trojans; if only such words could be far from my hearing. But, if we hearken to my words, despite our distress, we shall keep out forces in the place of assembly during the night, and the walls and the lofty gateways, and the long well-planed closely-shut doors that fit on them, will protect the city. Then early tomorrow morning, arrayed in our armour, we shall take our stand on the walls; and the worse (it will be) for him, if he should be minded to come from the ships and fight with us around the wall. Back again to the ships shall he go, when he has exhausted his horses on all sorts of running trips, while driving (them) to and fro beneath the battlements; but his heart will not allow him to force his way into the city, nor ever shall he lay (it) waste; before (that happens) the swift-(footed) dogs will devour him." 

Ll. 284-323. The lamentation for Patroclus. 

Then, Hector of the shining helmet looked at him with a scowl and said: "Polydamas, these (things) you are saying (are) not at all pleasing to me, since you are telling (us) to go back and be cooped up within the city. In truth, have you not yet had your fill of being confined within those walls. For, in the past, all men endowed with speech used to talk of Priam's city as rich in gold (and) rich in bronze. But now these fine treasures have utterly vanished from our houses, and many of those possessions have now gone to Phrygia and lovely Maeonia to be sold, since Zeus's great anger has fallen upon (us). But now, when the son of wily-minded Cronos has granted me (the power) to win glory by the ships, and to confine the Achaeans to the sea, now is not the time to disclose these thoughts among the people; for not one of the Trojans will be persuaded (by you); for I shall not permit (it). But come, let us all be persuaded (to do) as I say. And you should take your supper among the companies throughout the army, and remember to keep watch, and every (man) must stay awake. But whoever among the Trojans is exceedingly concerned about his possessions, let him gather (them) up and give (them) to the people to make use of; it is better that they should should partake of them than the Achaeans. But early in the morning, arrayed in our armour, let us engage in sharp warfare by the hollow ships. But, if (it is) true (that) godlike Achilles is standing beside the ships, the worse will it be for him if he wants (to fight); I will not flee from him on account of the horrors of warfare, but I will stand firmly against him, whether he shall win a great victory, or I shall win (one). The God of War (is) common (to us all), and he (often) slays (the one) who would slay."   

So Hector addressed (them), and the Trojans roared in approval, the fools (that they were); for Pallas Athene had taken their wits away from them. For they applauded Hector for his bad planning, and not one of them praised Polydamas, who had given them good counsel. Then, they took supper throughout the host; but the Achaeans wept and loudly lamented Patroclus all night long. Now, the son of Peleus led their loud lament, laying his man-slaying hands upon the breast of his companion, groaning most incessantly like a well-bearded lion, whose cubs some stag-hunting man has stolen away from the thick wood; and, when he comes back later, he is full of anguish, and he ranges through many of the mountain glens, looking for the man's footprints, in the hope that he should discover his whereabouts; for the most bitter fury takes hold of (him); thus, groaning heavily, did he (i.e. Achilles) speak to the Myrmidons:  

Ll. 324-359. Achilles promises to avenge Patroclus.

"Alas, how idle were those words I let fall on that day, when I sought to console the warrior Menoetius in our palace (i.e. the palace of Peleus in Phthia); for I said to him that I would bring his son back to Epois (i.e. the city in Locris, that was the home of Menoetius and Patroclus) in glory, after he had sacked Ilium and been allotted his share of the spoil. But Zeus does not bring about all (the things that are) planned by men; for both (of us) are fated to redden the same (stretch of) earth here in Troy, since neither the old charioteer Peleus nor my mother Thetis will welcome me in his palace on my return, but the earth in this place will hold (me) fast. But now, Patroclus, since I shall be going under the earth later than you, I shall not bury you with due honours until I have brought hither the armour and the head of Hector, your great-hearted slayer; and I shall cut the throats of twelve splendid Trojan children before your pyre, in my wrath at your slaying. Until then, you will lie as you are, beside my beaked ships, and around you deep-breasted Trojan and Dardanian (women) will grieve and shed tears (for you) night and day, (the ones) that we ourselves laboured to win with all our strength and our long spears as we sacked the rich cities of mortal men."

So speaking, godlike Achilles bade his comrades set a mighty cauldron over the fire, so that they might wash the bloody gore from Patroclus. And for the purpose of bath-water they placed a cauldron over the burning fire, and poured water into (it), and they took firewood, which they kindled beneath (it). And the fire encompassed the belly of the cauldron, and the water grew hot, and, when the water boiled in the gleaming bronze, then they washed (him) and anointed (him) richly with oil, and filled his wounds with a seasoned ointment; and they laid (him) on a bier, and covered (him) with fine linen from head to foot, and with a white cloak on top. Then, the Myrmidons (gathered) around swift-footed Achilles all night long, lamenting Patroclus with groans; and Zeus spoke to Hera, his sister and wife (as follows): "So you have brought it about, ox-eyed queenly Hera, you have stirred swift-footed Achilles into action; so it must now be true, that the long-haired Achaeans are born from your very self."      

Ll. 360-387. Thetis comes to the house of Hephaestus to seek his help. 

And then did ox-eyed queenly Hera answer him: "Dread son of Cronos, what a statement you have made! Surely now, I presume, a man is likely to do what he wants to a fellow-man, one that is but mortal and does not know everything that I do; how then ought not I, whom I believe to be the best of the goddesses on two accounts, both by birth and because I am called your wife, and you are king of all the immortals, (how then ought not I) to contrive troubles for the Trojans, when I bear a grudge against (them)?" 

So did they say such (things) to each other; but silver-footed Thetis came to the house of Hephaestus, imperishable, star-decked, and pre-eminent among the immortals for its bronze, which the crook-footed (god) himself had built. There she found him bustling to and fro around his bellows, sweating with his exertion; for he was making tripods, twenty in all, to stand around the wall of his well-built mansion, and he had placed golden wheels beneath the base of each one, so that, at his wish, they might enter the meeting-place of the gods, and return again to his house, a wonder to behold. Now, they had almost reached completion, but the skilfully wrought handles were not yet attached; these he was making, and forging the rivets. And, while he was working at these (things) with his knowing mind, so the silver-footed goddess Thetis came close to him. Then, the fair Charis (i.e. Grace), with her bright headband, came forth and saw her, (she) to whom the famous lame (god) was married; and she clasped her by the hand, and spoke these words to her and addressed her by name: "Wherefore, Thetis of the flowing robe, have you come to our house, honoured and beloved (as you are)? Before now, you have not visited us at all often. But follow (me) further inside, so that I may set hospitable (things) before you."   

Ll. 388-427. Hephaestus asks Thetis what it is she wants from him-. 

So saying, that most divine of goddesses (i.e. Charis) led (her) onwards. Then, she sat her down on a silver-studded chair, beautiful and cunningly-wrought (it was); and beneath it was a stool for her feet. Then, she called out to Hephaestus, the famous craftsman, and said these words (to him); "Hephaestus, do come here! Thetis is now in some need of you." Then, the famous lame (god) answered her: "So now in truth, a goddess, revered and honoured by me, (is) in (my hall); she (it was who) saved me, when she came upon me in pain, when I fell a long way at the will of my shameless mother (i.e. Hera) who wanted to hide me away because I was crippled; then would I have suffered woes in my heart, if Eurynome and Thetis had not welcomed me to their bosoms; Eurynome (is) the daughter of the backward-flowing Ocean. (I lived) with them for nine years, and crafted many cunning works of copper in their hollow cave - brooches, and bent pins, and ear-rings, and necklaces; and around (me) there flowed the unspeakably great stream of Ocean, seething with foam; no one else knew (of me), neither among the gods, nor among mortal men, but Thetis and Eurynome knew, (the ones) that saved me. Now she comes to our house; therefore, (there is) a great need for me to repay lovely-haired Thetis for saving my life. But do you now set before her some fine gifts for guests, while I put away my bellows and all my tools."

He spoke, and from the anvil arose a mighty monster limping, and his slender legs moved swiftly beneath him. He placed the bellows away from the fire, and gathered all his tools into a silver chest; and  he wiped both sides of his face and both his hands, and his sturdy neck and his shaggy chest with a sponge, and he put on a tunic, and grasped a stout staff, and went forth limping; and handmaids made of gold moved swiftly in support of their lord, like living maidens. 

And they have understanding in their minds, and in (them there is) also speech and strength, and they have knowledge of handiwork from the immortal gods. And they bustled about at the side of their master; but he (came) close to where Thetis (was), and sat down on a shining chair, and he put his hand in hers and spoke these words and addressed (her) by name: "Wherefore, Thetis of the flowing robe, have you come to our house, honoured and beloved (as you are)? Before now, you have not visited us at all often. Speak whatever is in your mind; and my heart bids (me) undertake (it), if I can do it, and if it can be accomplished."

Ll. 428-461. Thetis asks Hephaestus to provide Achilles with another suit of armour.

Then, Thetis answered him while shedding tears: "Hephaestus, is there any one of all the goddesses on Olympus, who has endured so many grievous woes in her heart, as these sorrows which Zeus has given me beyond all others? Out of (all) the daughters of the sea he would subject me alone to a man, and I endured the bed of a mortal, Peleus, the son of Aeacus, though very much against my will. Now, he lies in his halls, worn out with grievous old age, but now other (griefs are) mine, since he (i.e. Zeus) gave me a son to bear and to rear, (who is) pre-eminent among warriors; and he shot up like a sapling; and, having tended him like a tree in a fruitful orchard, I sent him forth in the beaked ships to Ilium to fight the Trojans; but I shall never welcome him once more to the house of Peleus on his return home. Yet, while he lives (here) with me and sees the light of the sun, he is suffering, and I cannot give him any help when I go (to him). The maiden, whom the sons of the Achaeans chose as a gift of honour for him (i.e. Briseïs), the lord Agamemnon took her back from out of his arms. In truth, he was pining in his heart with grief for her; but the Trojans were penning the Achaeans into the sterns (of their ships), nor would they let (them) break out; and the elders of the Argives pleaded with him, and gave the names of the many glorious gifts (they would give him). Then, while he refused to ward off their ruin himself, yet he clad Patroclus in his own armour and sent him to war, and a considerable force to go with (him). And they fought all day around the Scaean gates; and they would have sacked the city on that very day, if Apollo had not slain the courageous son of Menoetius amid the foremost fighters, after he had caused much havoc, and given the glory to Hector. Therefore, I have now come to these knees of yours, (to see) if you are willing to give my son, who is facing an early death, a shield, and a helmet, and a fine (pair of) greaves fitted with ankle guards, and a breastplate; for his trusted comrade lost (the armour) which he had, when he was overcome by the Trojans; now he (i.e. Achilles) lies on the ground in anguish of heart."  

Ll. 462-489. Hephaestus forges a shield for Achilles, and begins to decorate it. 

Then, the famous lame (god) answered her: "Be of good cheer! Do not let these (things) cause you anxiety in your heart. Would that I were as able to hide him far away from hateful death, when dread fate shall come upon him, as (I am to ensure) that fine armour will be made for him, such that anyone of the many men who may see (it) in the future will marvel at (it)." 

So saying, he left her there, and went to his bellows; and he turned them towards the fire and bade (them) get to work. And the bellows, twenty (pairs) in all, blew upon the melting pots, sending out strong blasts of every degree (of force), at one time to help (him) as he laboured hard, and, at another time, in whatever way Hephaestus might wish to complete his work. And on the fire he threw stubborn bronze and tin, and precious gold and silver, and then he placed a great anvil on the anvil-block, and he took hold of a mighty hammer in (one) hand, and grasped a pair of tongs in the other. 

Then, he began to make a big and sturdy shield, skilfully wrought all over, and he set a rim of triple thickness around (it), bright (and) gleaming, and from (it he let fall) a silver strap. And there were five folds of the shield itself, and on it he wrought many curious devices, (stemming) from the knowledge in his mind.   

And on it he wrought the earth, and the sky and the sea, and the unwearied sun and the moon at the full, and on (it he wrought) all the constellations with which heaven is crowned, the Pleiades and the Hyades, and the mighty Orion and the Bear, which (men) also call by the name of the Wain, and she circles around in the same place and watches out for Orion, and is alone in not sharing in the baths of the Ocean (i.e. the Homeric Greeks believed that the constellation Ursa Major never set).      

Ll. 490-526. Hephaestus decorates the shield with illustrations of city life. 

And on (it) he modelled two fine cities of mortal men. And in the one there were marriages and feasts, and they were escorting the brides from their bed-chambers through the city beneath the light of blazing torches, and loud rose the wedding song; and the young men were whirling around in the dance, and among them flutes and lyres kept up their sound, and the women stood, each at her doorway, and gazed in wonder. But crowds of men were in the place of assembly; and there there was a quarrel taking place, and two men were quarrelling over the blood-money for a man who had been killed; one claimed that he had made payment in full, and was telling this to the people, but the other denied that he had received anything; and both were eager that a decision should be taken by an arbitrator. And folk were cheering the two of them on, and shouting their support for (them) both. But heralds held the people back; and the elders sat on the polished stones in the sacred circle, and held in their hands the sceptres (they had received) from the loud-voiced heralds; with these they sprang up and gave their judgment in turn. And two talents of gold lay in their midst, to be given to the one who among them should utter the most correct judgment.   

Around the other city, two divisions of warriors had been sitting in their shining armour; and two views found favour with them, whether to  destroy (it) completely, or to divide in two all the property which the lovely city contained within (it); but they (i.e. the townspeople) were not yet ready to comply, and had secretly armed themselves for an ambush. Now, their dear wives and little children were defending the wall they were placed upon, and among them (were) the men, whom old age had overtaken; and they (i.e. the men of the city) were setting out; and Ares and Pallas Athene were leading them, both (shown) in gold and clad in golden garments, and huge and beautiful in their armour, and yet as gods they were standing out apart (from the others); and the men were somewhat smaller. And, when at length they came (to the place) where it was possible for them to lie in ambush, down by a river, where there was a watering-place for all the cattle, then there they took up their positions, covered with shining bronze. Then, two scouts were stationed by them some distance apart from the host, to wait until they caught sight of the sheep and the crumpled-horned cattle. And soon they came forward, and two herdsmen followed after (them), playing on their pipes; and they foresaw no danger at all.       

Ll. 527-560. Hephaestus completes his illustration of the city at war, and then looks at ploughing and reaping. 

Those who were looking out for them rushed forward, and then they speedily cut off the herds of cattle and the fine flocks of white sheep, and they killed the shepherds as well. And so, when they (i.e. the besiegers) heard the great hubbub over the cattle, as they sat before the place of assembly, they got on their high-stepping horses at once and went in pursuit, and swiftly overtook (them). Then, they joined battle and fought beside the river-banks, and they smote one another with their bronze-tipped spears. And among (them), Strife and Tumult joined in the fray, and among (them too) deadly Fate, bearing one man alive with a fresh wound, and another one unhurt, was dragging a dead man through the rumpus by the feet. And the garment that she wore around her shoulders (was) red with men's blood. And they joined in the fray and fought like living men, and they dragged away one another's bodies after they had been slain.   

And on (it) he made a fallow field of soft rich arable land, broad and triple-tilled; and many ploughmen were spinning their teams on it, and driving (them) to and fro. And when, having turned, they reached the headland of the field, then a man would come forward and put a cup of honey-sweet wine into their hands; and others would turn back along the furrows, eager to reach the headland of the deep fallow field. And behind (them) it turned dark, and looked as if it had been ploughed, although it was made of gold; so the outstanding marvel was made.   

And on (it) he made a king's demesne-land; and there hired labourers were reaping, with sharp sickles in their hands. Some dense handfuls (of corn) fell to the ground in swathes, while binders tied other (clusters) with bands (of straw). Three binders were standing ready; and behind (them) boys kept (them) constantly supplied, collecting (the corn) and bringing (it to them) in armfuls; and, among them, the king, holding his sceptre, was standing in silence by the swathe, joyful at heart. Now, heralds, standing apart beneath an oak-tree, were preparing a feast, and they were busy sacrificing a great ox; and the women were sprinkling white barley in abundance (on the meat) for the reapers' dinner.  

Ll. 561-589. Hephaestus' illustrations move on to vineyards, and the tending of cattle and sheep. 

And on (it) he made a vineyard very heavy with bunches of grapes, fair (and) made of gold; and along (it) there were black grapes, supported by silver poles throughout. And around (it) he set a trench in blue enamel, and a fence of tin; there was only a single path (leading) to it (i.e. the vineyard), on which the bearers went up and down whenever they harvested the vineyard. Maidens and youths with their minds full of glee were carrying the honey-sweet fruit in wicker baskets. And in their midst a boy played a lovely tune on his clear-toned lyre, and in  accompaniment he sang sweetly of Linos in his delicate treble voice; and the others followed (him), bounding on their feet, beating the earth in unison amid dancing and shouting. 

And on (it) he wrought a herd of straight-horned cattle; and the oxen were made of gold and tin, and they hurried with mooing from the farm-yard to their pasture beside the sounding river and the flickering reeds. And four golden herdsmen walked beside the cattle, and nine swift-footed dogs accompanied them. But among the foremost cattle two fearsome lions had caught a bellowing bull, and he was dragged off bellowing loudly; and the dogs and the men followed after him. And they had rent the hide of the great bull and were gulping down its inwards and black blood; and the herdsmen tried in vain to set the swift dogs on (them). but, in truth, with regard to biting they kept away from the lions, though they stood very close and barked as they avoided (them). 

And on (it) the famous lame (god) made a great pasture-ground for white sheep in a fair glen, and stables, and covered huts and sheepfolds. 

Ll. 590-617. Hephaestus completes Achilles' armour and gives it to Thetis. 

And on (it) the renowned lame (god) cunningly wrought a place of dancing, like the one which Daedalus once constructed in broad Knossos for fair-tressed Ariadne. And there young men and maidens worth many oxen (i.e. they were well wooed by suitors) were dancing, holding one another's hands by the wrists (i.e. they had formed a circle). And of these the (maidens) were wearing fine linen garments and the youths were clad in well-woven tunics, faintly glistening with oil. And the (maidens) had lovely garlands (on their heads), and the youths had golden daggers dangling from their silver belts. And sometimes they would run very lightly on cunning feet, as when some potter sits at a wheel that fits in his hands and tries (it) out (to see) if it will spin; and now at other times they would run in rows towards each other. And a great throng (of people) stood around the lovely dance, full of joy; [and a godlike minstrel celebrated with them, playing on the lyre;] and amongst them a pair of acrobats whirled around through their midst as leaders of the dance.  

And on (it) he placed the great might of the river of Ocean around the uttermost rim of the strongly wrought shield.  

Now, when he had wrought the great and sturdy shield, he made him a breastplate brighter than a blaze of fire, and he made him a heavy helmet fitted to his temples, fine and cunningly wrought (it was), and on (it) there burst forth a golden crest, and he made him greaves of tin fit for wear. 

Then, when the famous lame (god) had fashioned all the armour, he took (it) and laid (it) before the mother of Achilles (i.e. Thetis). And like a falcon she sprang down from snowy Olympus, bearing with (her) Hephaestus' glittering armour (i.e. Virgil's 'arma radiantia', see Aeneid VIII, 616).