HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XXII: THE BATTLE IN THE HALL.

Introduction:

In what was undoubtedly the most popular book of the "Odyssey" in later classical times, and probably beforehand, the story reaches its climax in Book XXII, when Odysseus is enabled to take his revenge on the suitors and recover his possessions. The action is still taking place on the 39th day of the "Odyssey": Odysseus, assisted by his son Telemachus and his two friendly servants, Eumaeus and Philoetius, and helped by Athene, disguised as Mentor, slaughter the suitors. The house is then cleansed, the faithless women servants are hanged, and the traitor Melanthius is gruesomely mutilated and killed. 

Ll. 1-41. Odysseus slays Antinous.

Then, Odysseus, that man of many wiles, stripped off his ragged garments, and leapt on to the great threshold with his bow and his quiver full of arrows, and poured forth his swift arrows just there in front of his feet, and he spoke among the suitors: "In very truth, this dangerous contest has been brought to an end; now, however, I will know another target which no man has ever struck, if I can hit (it) and Apollo grants my prayer."

He spoke and aimed a pointed shaft at Antinous. Now indeed, he was about to raise a fair goblet to his lips, a two-handled cup of gold (it was), and he was holding (it) in his hands in order to drink the wine; and death was not in his thoughts; and who would have foreseen that one man among the many men that sat as guests at the table, even if he were very strong, would have brought evil death and black fate upon him? But Odysseus took aim and smote him with an arrow in the throat, and its point went right through his tender throat. And he lurched to one side, and the cup fell from his hands as he was struck, and at once there came through his nostrils a thick jet of man's blood; and he quickly thrust the table from him with a kick of the foot, and the food spilled on to the floor; and the bread and the roasted flesh were defiled And the suitors caused an uproar throughout the halls, when they saw the man had fallen, and they sprang from their seats, driven in confusion through the halls, and gazing eagerly in all directions along the well-built walls; but nowhere was there a shield or a mighty spear to seize. But they upbraided Odysseus with angry words: "Stranger, you shoot at men to your cost; never shall you take part in other contests; now (is) your utter destruction sure. For now you have slain a man, who (was) by far the best of the young men in Ithaca; so shall the vultures devour you here (i.e. you will be deprived of funeral rites)." 

So spoke each man, for, in truth, they thought that he had not meant to slay the man; and this, poor fools, they did not know, that upon (each) one of them the bonds of death had been fastened. Then, looking askance, the quick-witted Odysseus answered them: "You dogs, you thought that I should never come home, returning from the land of the Trojans, (seeing) that you wasted my house, and lay by force with the maidservants, and you secretly courted my wife, though I was (still) alive, without fearing the gods who hold broad heaven, nor that vengeance of men that will come hereafter; and now upon every (one) of you the bonds of death have been fastened."

Ll. 42-78. Eurymachus leads the resistance against Odysseus. 

So he spoke, and pallid fear seized hold of them all; and each (man) looked around (to see) how he might escape utter destruction. But Eurymachus alone answered him and said: "Now if you really are Odysseus of Ithaca having returned home again, those (things) which you have been saying with regard to what the Achaeans have done, many wanton (deeds) in your halls and in the field, (are) right. But he who was responsible for (them) all now lies dead, (namely) Antinous; for he caused these deeds to happen, not so much desiring or needing marriage, but contemplating some other (things), which the son of Cronos did not bring about for him, that in the land of well-built Ithaca he himself might be king, and that he might lie in wait for your son (i.e. Telemachus) and kill (him). But now he lies slain deservedly, but do you spare your people; and hereafter we shall make amends throughout the land, for everything that has been drunk and eaten in your halls, and will bring (you) recompense, each man separately, to the value of twenty oxen, and we shall pay you in bronze and gold, until your heart be warmed; until then, your wrath is in no respect a cause for righteous indignation."      

Then, with a scowl, Odysseus, the man of many wiles, answered him: "Eurymachus, not even if you gave me all (the things) that your father left you, and all (the things) that you now have, and anything else that you might acquire hereafter, not even then could I stay my hands from slaughter until the suitors have paid the price for all their transgressions. Now it lies before you to fight face to face or to flee, if any (man) shall avoid death and the fates; but I do not think that any (man) shall escape from utter destruction."

So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and their knees were loosened and their hearts (were melted). Then, Eurymachus spoke to them again for a second time: "My friends, for this man will not stay his invincible hands, but, since he has got the polished bow and its quiver, he will shoot from the smooth threshold until he slays us all; but (come), let us turn our minds to battle. Draw your swords and hold up the tables against his arrows that bring swift death; and let us all have at him in a body, in the hope that we can thrust him from the threshold and the doorway, and let us go through the city, and may there be a swift alarm; so then shall this man have swiftly shot his last (bolt)." 

Ll. 79-125. Odyesseus and Telemachus kill Eurymachus and Amphinomus. 

So saying, he (i.e. Eurymachus) drew his sharp sword of bronze, sharpened on both sides, and he leapt upon him, shouting fearfully; but, at the same time, godlike Odysseus let fly an arrow, and it struck (him) on the breast beside the nipple, and the swift shaft stuck in his liver; and he let the sword fall from his hand to the ground, and, sprawling over the table, he doubled up and fell, and he spilled the food and the two-handled cup on the floor; and, distressed in his mind, he beat the ground with his forehead and kicked and shook his chair with both his feet; and a mist was shed over his eyes.  

Then, Amphinomus went for glorious Odysseus, darting straight at him, and he drew his sharp sword to see if he would give way to him at the door. But Telemachus anticipated him and struck (him) from behind between the shoulders with his bronze-tipped spear, and drove (it) through his breast; and he fell with a crash, and struck the ground with the whole of his forehead. But Telemachus sprang back, leaving his long-shafted spear there in Amphinomus; for he was very much afraid that, as he was drawing forth the long-shafted spear, one of the Achaeans might rush (upon him) and stab him with a sword or smite (him) as he was looking downwards. Then, he began to run, and came very quickly to his father, and, standing nearby (him), he spoke these winged words: "Father, now I will bring you a shield and two spears, and a helmet of bronze fitted to your temples, and, when I come back, I will arm myself, and will likewise give (armour) to the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) and the cowherd (i.e. Philoetius); for it is better to be clothed in armour."

Then, Odysseus, that man of many wiles, answered him and said: "Run and get (them), while I still have arrows to defend me, lest they thrust me from the door, alone as I am."

So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his father, and made his way to the chamber where lay the glorious armour. From there he took four shields and eight spears, and four bronze helmets with plumes of horse-hair, and he bore them on his way and came to his father very swiftly, and, first of all, he put the bronze about his body; and thus likewise the two servants put on the beautiful armour, and they took their stand on either side of bold Odysseus, full of various wiles.  

But he, as long as there were arrows to defend him, so he would ever aim at the wooers and smite (them) one by one in his house; and they fell in heaps. But, when the arrows failed the prince as he shot (them), he leant the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall to stand against the gleaming wall-faces, and he himself placed a four-layered shield about his shoulders, and put a well-made helmet with horse-hair plumes on his stout head, and the plume nodded dreadfully above (him); and he took two mighty spears, arrayed with bronze.

Ll. 126-169. Melanthius raids the storeroom.

Now there was a certain raised doorway in the well-built wall, and along the topmost threshold of the well-built hall there was a way into the passage, and well-fitting planks enclosed (it). This (gate) Odysseus bade the goodly swineherd watch, taking his stand close by; for there was only a single (means of) access to it. Then, Agelaus spoke to the (suitors), proclaiming these words to all (of them): "Friends, will not someone go up to that raised entrance and address the people, so that the alarm can be raised straightaway? Then, this fellow would soon have fired his last (bolt)."

Then, Melanthius, the herder of goats, answered him: "It may not be possible, Agelaus, nurtured of Zeus; for the fair door of the court is terribly near, and the mouth of the passage (is) tight; one man, if he were valiant, could bar the way for everyone. But come, let me bring you armour from the storeroom to put on; for I think it is within (it), and nowhere else, that Odysseus and his brilliant son have laid their war-gear."

So saying, Melanthius, the herder of goats, went up to Odysseus' storeroom by the narrow passages of the hall. From there he took twelve shields and as many spears, and as many helmets (made) of bronze with plumes of horse-hair; and he went on his way and very quickly brought (them) and gave (them) to the suitors. Then were the knees of Odysseus loosened and his heart (began to melt), when he saw (them) donning armour and brandishing long spears in their hands; and his task seemed to him (to be) great. But quickly did he speak these winged words to Telemachus: "Telemachus, assuredly one of the women in these halls is stirring up an evil battle for us, or (perhaps it is) Melanthius."

Then, wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "I myself am to blame for this - no one else (is) responsible - for I left the close-fitting door of the storeroom open; and their watcher was better (than I). But go (now), goodly Eumaeus, and close the door of the storeroom, and see whether it is one of the women who does this, or Melanthius, the son of Dolius, whom indeed I think (it is)."

Thus they said these (things) to one another, but Melanthius, the herder of goats, went once more to the storeroom to bring the beautiful armour. But the goodly swineherd saw (him), and spoke at once to Odysseus who was close at hand: "Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, ever-resourceful Odysseus, there again is that pestilent fellow, whom we ourselves suspect, going to the storeroom; but tell me truly whether I should slay him, if I am the better (man), or shall I bring him here to you, so that he may make recompense for the many crimes which he has committed in your house."

Ll. 170-209. Melanthius is captured.

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered him and said: "Telemachus and I will surely keep the haughty wooers within the hall, even if there are very pressing. But do you two (i.e. Eumaeus and Philoetius) bend his (i.e. Melanthius') feet and arms from above, and cast him into the storeroom, and tie boards behind (his back), and do you fasten a twisted cord around his (body) and hoist (him) up the tall pillar and bring (him) close to the roof-beams, so that he may stay alive for a long time and suffer grievous torments."

So he spoke, and they readily heard him and obeyed, and they went their way to the storeroom, unnoticed by the one who was within (it). Now indeed he was seeking armour in the innermost part of the storeroom, and the two (of them) lay in wait and stood on either side of the door-posts. When Melanthius, the herder of goats, was about to go over the threshold, bearing a fine helmet in one hand, and, in the other, a broad old shield, besprinkled with rust, belonging to the heroic Laertes, who in his youth used to carry (it) around; but now it had been lying (there) for some time, and the seams of its straps were loosened; then, the two of them rushed at (him) and seized (him) and dragged him inside by the hair, and they cast him down on the floor, troubled in his heart, and they bound his feet and hands together with a grievous knot, binding them firmly behind (him), as the son of Laertes, the much-enduring godlike Odysseus, had bade (them); and they fastened a twisted cord around his (body), and they hoisted (him) up the tall pillar and brought (him) close to the roof-beams. Then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you mock him and say: "Now indeed, Melanthius, shall you keep watch for the whole night, lying on a soft bed, as befits you; nor shall you fail to notice the gold-enthroned child of the morning (i.e. Dawn) when she comes forth from the streams of Ocean, at the hour when you bring the she-goats for the wooers to prepare for a feast in the hall."

So was he left there, stretched out in that dire bond; but the two (of them) put on their armour and closed the shining door, and they came to wise Odysseus, (he who was) full of various wiles. There the four (of them) (i.e. Odysseus, Telemachus, Eumaeus and Philoetius), stood on the threshold, breathing fury, and those within the hall were many and stout. Then, Athene, the daughter of Zeus, came near to them, looking like Mentor both in form and voice. And Odysseus was glad when he saw her, and spoke these words: "Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear companion, who used to do good (things) for you; and you are of the same age as me."  

Ll. 210-254. Athene intervenes.

So he spoke, thinking that it was Athene, the rouser (of hosts). But, on the other side, the wooers called out loudly in the hall; in the first place, Agelaus, the son of Damastor, rebuked her, (saying): "Do not let Odysseus prevail upon (you) with his words to fight the suitors, and bring aid to himself. For so I think that our intention will be brought to pass; now, when we have killed these (men), both father and son, then you too will be slain with them, (by) such (deeds) as you are minded to do in these halls; and with your own head you will pay the price. But, when we have stripped you of your might with a sword, we shall intermingle all the possessions which you have at home and outside with those of Odysseus; nor shall we allow your sons to dwell in these halls, nor your daughters and your trusty wife to traverse the city of Ithaca."

So he (i.e. Agelaus) spoke, and Athene became more angry in her heart, and rebuked Odysseus with these angry words: "Odysseus, no longer (do) you (have) that steadfast strength, nor any of that valour, such as (you) always (had) when you fought unceasingly with the Trojans for nine years concerning the high-born Helen with the white arms, and you slew many men in dire conflict, and, by your counsel, was the city of Priam with its wide streets taken. So how (is it) now, when you have come to your house and possessions, that you (have to) beg to show valiance against the wooers? But come here now, my friend, and stand by my side and see my deeds, until you learn what kind (of man is) Mentor, son of Alcimus, to repay kindness in the midst of enemy warriors."

So she (i.e. Athene in the guise of Mentor) spoke, but she did not give him the strength to conquer the other side entirely, but she still put the strength and valour of Odysseus and his splendid son to the test. And she herself flew up to the roof-beams of the smoky hall, and (there) she sat, just like a swallow to look at.   

Now, Agelaus, the son of Damastor, and Eurynomus, and Amphimedon, and Demoptolemus, and Peisander, the son of Polyctor, and the thoughtful Polybus urged on the wooers; for in valour they were by far the best of the suitors who still lived and were fighting for their lives; but Agelaus spoke among them, and declared these words to (them) all: "My friends, now will this man restrain his invincible hands; now has Mentor gone from him, having uttered empty boasts, and they are left alone at the outer doors. Therefore, do not hurl your long spears all together, but come, let the six (of us) throw (them) first, in the hope that Zeus will grant that Odysseus be struck, and that we win glory. And of the rest, they are of no concern to us, once this (man) shall have fallen."

Ll. 255-291. The fighting continues.

So he (i.e. Agelaus) spoke, and they all eagerly hurled their spears as he had bade (them); but Athene made them all miss: one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall, and another the close-fitting door; and another's ashen spear landed on the door (which was) loaded with bronze. But, when they had avoided the wooers' spears, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus began to speak to them: "My friends, now I shall give the word that we too shall cast our spears into the throng of the wooers, who are minded to slay us in addition to their former wrongs." 

So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and they all cast their spears with a straight aim; Odysseus smote Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) Elatus, and the cattle herdsman (i.e. Philoetius) Peisander. Then, together they all bit the immense floor with their teeth, and the suitors withdrew to the far corner of the hall, and they (i.e. Odysseus and his companions) leapt up and retrieved their spears from the corpses. 

Then again did the wooers throw their sharp spears with eagerness; but many (as they were) Athene put them off course. One of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall, and another the close-fitting door; and another's ashen spear sank into the door (which was) loaded with bronze. But Amphimedon hit Telemachus with a grazing blow on the wrist of his hand, and the bronze ripped the surface of his skin. And Ctesippus with his long spear grazed Eumaeus on the shoulder above his shield; but it flew over (him) and sank on the floor. And then again, the wise and crafty-minded Odysseus and his companions hurled their sharp spears into the throng of the suitors. Then again, Odysseus, the sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas, and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) Polybus, and thereafter the herdsman of the cattle (i.e. Philoetius) smote Ctesippus on the breast, and spoke to (him) in exultation: "O (you) son of Polytherses, (you who is) fond of jeering, never more at all will you speak big, as you give way to folly, but entrust your words to the gods, since they are far mightier than (us). (This is) your gift in return for the foot (of an ox) which you once gave to godlike Odysseus, when he went begging through the house."

Ll. 292-329. Odysseus rejects Leodes' plea for mercy. 

So he (i.e. Philoetius) spoke, but the Odysseus wounded the son of Damastus (i.e. Agelaus) at close quarters with his long spear. And Telemachus wounded Leiocritus, the son of Euenor, in the middle of the groin with his spear, and drove the bronze (point) right through; and he fell face downward, and struck the ground with the whole of his forehead. Then, Athene held up her deadly aegis on high from the roof; and their minds were full of panic. And they fled through the hall like a herd of cattle; these the dating gadfly arouse and drive in confusion during the season of spring, when the days are long. And just as the vultures with their crooked talons and horned beaks come forth from the mountains and swoop down upon the (smaller) birds - and those on the plain shrink from the clouds and are scattered in flight, and they pounce upon them and slay (them), and they have no means of defence or way of escape; and men enjoy the chase - even so did these (others) fall upon the wooers and smite them from all sides through the hall; and hideous groaning arose from them as their heads were smashed, and the whole floor ran with blood.  

But Leodes rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and, by way of entreaty, he spoke these winged words to him: "By your knees I beseech you, Odysseus; and do you show me respect as a suppliant and have pity on me; for I declare that I never said or did anything wicked to any of the women in this hall; but I sought to check the other suitors whenever they did such (deeds). But they did not hearken unto me and withhold their hands from doing evil; and, therefore, by their wanton (deeds) they have incurred their shameful doom. But I, the sacrificing priest among them, that has done no wrong, shall be laid low, as there is no gratitude thereafter for good deeds done." 

Then, with an angry scowl, Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, gave him an answer: "If you declare yourself to be the priest among these (men), I think you are likely often to have prayed in these halls that the fulfilment of my joyous return from afar might be removed, and that my dear wife would follow you and bear (you) children; therefore you shall not escape a grievous death."   

So saying, he seized in his stout hand a sword that lay (nearby), which Agelaus had let fall to the ground (when he was) slain; with this he smote him (i.e. Leodes) full upon the neck. And, even (while he was still) speaking, his head was mingled with the dust."

Ll. 330-377. At the instigation of Telemachus, the lives of Phemius and Medon are spared. 

The minstrel son of Terpis was still seeking to avoid black fate, Phemius (that is), who sang perforce among the suitors. And he stood with his clear-toned lyre in his hands close to the postern door; and he was in two minds as to whether he should slip out of the hall and sit down by the well-constructed altar of the mighty Zeus, the household (god), on which Laertes and Odysseus had burned many thigh-bones of oxen, or rush forward and clasp the knees of Odysseus in prayer. And so, as he pondered, it seemed (to him) to be the better (course), to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes. So he laid the hollow lyre on the ground between the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair, and he himself rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and, by way of entreaty, he addressed these winged words to him: 

"By your knees I entreat you, Odysseus; do you show me respect (as a suppliant) and have pity on me; on yourself will sorrow come hereafter, if you should slay the bard who sings to gods and men. Self-taught am I, and the god has implanted in my mind all manner of ways of song; and I am fit to sing to you, as (if in the presence) of a god; so, do not be eager to cut my throat! And your dear son Telemachus will also bear witness to this, that I was not at all willing to frequent your house, nor did I desire to sing for the suitors after their feasts, but, being much more numerous and stronger (than I), they led (me there) perforce."

So he (i.e. Phemius) spoke, and Telemachus, strong in his righteousness, quickly addressed his father, who was close at hand: "Hold back (your hand), do not wound this guiltless (man) in any way with a sword; and let us also save the herald Medon, who was always concerned for me in our house when I was a child, unless he has already been killed by Philoetius or the swineherd, or he met you as you were raging through the house."

So he spoke, and Medon, knowing how to be discreet, heard him; for he lay crouching down beneath a chair, and he was clad in the skin of an ox newly flayed, and was seeking to avoid black fate. At once, he rose from the chair and quickly stripped off the ox-hide, and he then rushed forward and clasped Telemachus by the knees, and, by way of entreaty, he addressed these winged words to him: "Friend, I am here, and do you tell your father to stay (his hand), lest in the greatness of his strength he should harm me with his sharp sword, in his wrath against the suitor-men, who have wasted his property in the halls, and, in their folly, have not honoured you in any way."   

But Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, smiled and said to him (i.e. Medon): "Take courage, for he has delivered you and saved (you), so that you may know in your heart, and tell (it) also to another, how much better a good deed (is) than a bad (one). But go forth from the halls and sit down in the courtyard far away from the slaughter, you and the bard of widespread fame (i.e. Phemius), until I have done in my house whatever I needs must (do)."

Ll. 378-429. Eurycleia denounces the disloyal women-servants.

So he spoke; and the two of them (i.e. Phemius and Medon) went their way out of the hall. And the pair of them sat down by the great altar of Zeus, peering around in all directions and ever expecting death.

And Odysseus looked cautiously around his house, (to see) if any of the men (were) still alive and hiding to avoid black death. But he saw that pretty much all of them had fallen in heaps in their blood and the dust, like fishes that fishermen have dragged out of the grey sea in a close-meshed fishing-net; and they all lay heaped up on the beach, longing for salt water; but the radiant sun did away with their lives; so then were the suitors piled up upon one another.

And then did the resourceful Odysseus address Telemachus: "Come on then, Telemachus, go and call the nurse Eurycleia to me, so that I can tell (her) the word that is in my mind."

So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and, shaking open the door, he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia: "Come here, (you) aged old woman, who is the overseer of the servant-women in our hall; come on! My father calls you, so that he can tell you something."

So he uttered these words, but her reply was wingless (i.e. she spoke no words), but she unlocked the doors of the well-inhabited hall, and went on her way; and Telemachus led the way before (her). There she found Odysseus amid the bodies of the slain, bespattered with blood and gore, like a lion that comes from feeding on an ox that dwells in the fields. And all his breast and cheeks are drenched with blood on both sides, and he is gruesome to look at in the face; in that way was Odysseus stained all over from his feet and his hands. But, when she saw the bodies and the unspeakable (amount of) blood, she wanted to cry out with joy, since she saw (what) a great deed (had been done); but Odysseus held (her) back and detained (her), eager though (she was), and he spoke and addressed these winged words to her: "Rejoice in your heart, old lady, but check yourself and do not cry out with joy; an unholy (thing it is) to exult at (the sight of) men who have been slain. But these men, the fate of the gods and their wanton deeds did quell; for they honoured not one of the men upon the earth, neither the bad nor the good, (but) whoever came among them; and so, by their shameful folly, they brought death upon (themselves). But come (now), do you pick out for me the women in the halls, who dishonour me, and (those) who are guiltless."  

Then, the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him: "So then, my child, will I tell you the truth. You have fifty servant-women in the halls, whom we have taught to do their work, and to comb the wool and endure the work of slaves; of these, twelve in all have gone the way of shamelessness, and they respect neither me nor Penelope herself. And Telemachus has newly grown up, and his mother would not allow him to rule over the women-servants. But come, I shall go up to the bright upper chamber, and speak to your wife, on whom some god has sent sleep."

Ll. 430-464. Odysseus orders the execution of the disloyal servant-women.

Then, the subtle Odysseus said to her (i.e. Eurycleia) in reply: "Do not wake her yet; but tell the women who have previously behaved disgracefully to come here."

So he spoke, and the old lady went right through the hall to inform the women and (to tell them) to come quickly. Furthermore, he called Telemachus, and the cowherd (i.e. Philoetius) and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) to his (side). and spoke these winged words to (them): "Now start to carry out the dead bodies, and order those women (to help you); then, clean those fine chairs and tables with water and porous sponges. Yet, when the whole of the house has been set in order, take the serving-women out of the hall between the round-house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and strike (them) with your long-pointed swords, until you have taken the lives of all (of them), and they will have quite forgotten the love-making which they had with the suitors, and that they lay in secret (with them)."

So he spoke; and the women (i.e. the twelve malefactors) all came in together, weeping terribly, with copious tears pouring down (their cheeks). Firstly, they removed the bodies of the dead, and they laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard, propping them up, one against another. And Odysseus himself took charge (of them) and urged (them) on; and they carried the bodies unwillingly. So then they cleansed the very beautiful chairs and the tables with water and porous sponges. But Telemachus, and the cowherd and the swineherd scraped the floor of the well-built house with shovels; and the servant-women kept on carrying out (the scrapings), and they threw (them) outside. But, when they had set the whole of the hall in order, they led the servant-women out from the well-built hall between the round-house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and shut them up in a confined space, from which it was not possible to escape. Then, the thoughtful Telemachus was the first to speak to them: "(Let it be) by no clean death that I take the lives of these (women), who have heaped insults on my head and on (that of) my mother, and (who) used to sleep with the suitors."

Ll. 465-501. Telemachus executes the twelve serving-women by hanging.

So he (i.e. Telemachus) spoke, and he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great pillar, and flung (it) around the round-house, stretching (it) upwards, so that no one might reach the ground with her feet. And, as when long-winged thrushes or doves fall into a snare that has been set in a thicket, as they seek to reach their stall, and hateful (is) the bed (that) welcomes (them), so they hold their heads in a row, and there were nooses around the necks of all (of them), so that they might die most piteously. And they writhed with their feet for a while, but not for long.   

Then, they led Melanthius through the doorway and the courtyard; and they cut off his nose and ears with the pitiless bronze, and they ripped out his genitals to be eaten raw by the dogs, and they lopped off his hands and feet in their furious wrath. 

Then, they washed their hands and feet and went in the house to Odysseus, and their work was done; but he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia; "Bring brimstone (i.e. sulphur), old lady, (as) a remedy for pollution, and bring me fire, so that I may fumigate the hall; and do you tell Penelope to come here with her serving-women, and to order all the women in the house to come."

Then, the dear nurse Eurycleia addressed him again: "Verily, my child, these (things) you have spoken aright, But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic (as) raiment, and do not stand in this way in the halls with your broad shoulders wrapped in rags; for it would be a (cause for) indignation." 

And Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, spoke to her in reply: "First of all, let a fire be made for me in the hall."

So he spoke, and the dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey, and she brought (him) fire and brimstone; and Odysseus thoroughly fumigated the hall, and the house and the courtyard. Then, the old lady went back through the fine house of Odysseus to bear tidings to the women and bid (them) come; and they came out from the hall with torches in their hands. And they thronged around Odysseus and embraced (him), and they clasped and kissed his head, and shoulders and hands in loving welcome; and a sweet longing seized hold of him to weep and wail, for in his heart he knew (them) all. 

HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XXI: THE FIGHT WITH THE RIVER.

 HOMER: "ILIAD": BOOK XXI: THE FIGHT WITH THE RIVER.

Introduction: 

Achilles' aristeia continues into Book XXI, but largely in set confrontations, as Homer uses every device he can to delay his eventual meeting with Hector. The book falls into four distinct episodes, each one skilfully joined to its predecessor and successor by a transitional passage: 1) single combats with Lycaon and Asteropaeus (ll. 34-210); 2) the fight between Achilles and the river Xanthus (ll. 227-327); 3) the battle of the gods (ll. 383-513); and 4) Achilles' pursuit of the Trojans into their city, with the brave Agenor providing a diversion (ll. 520-611). In the third of these episodes the conflict between the pro-Achaean and pro-Trojan gods provides one with some comic relief, as the gods cannot seriously hurt one another. 

Ll. 1-33. Achilles reaches the Scamander. 

But, when they came to the ford of the swirling fair-flowing river Xanthus (i.e. men called it the Scamander), which immortal Zeus had begot, there he split (them) in two, and one part he chased over the plain in the direction of the city, to where the bewildered Achaeans had fled on the previous day, when glorious Hector was raging; so they poured across it in flight, and Hera spread a thick mist before (them) in order to hold (them) back; and the other half were forced together into the deep-flowing river with its silver eddies, and into (it) they fell with a great crash, and the rapid torrent resounded, and the banks echoed greatly all around (them); and they swam this way and that with a shout, as they were whirled around in the eddies. And, as, when beneath the blast of a fire, locusts float in the air, and flee to the river; and, having been suddenly aroused, the tireless fire blazes, and they shrink down into the water; and so beneath Achilles the roaring stream of the deep-swirling Xanthus was filled with a mixture of horses and men.   

But the god-begotten (warrior) (i.e. Achilles) left his spear there on the bank, leaning against the tamarisk (bushes) and he leapt in like a demon with only his sword, and he devised grim deeds in his mind, and he struck out in all directions; and pitiful groaning arose from those that were struck by his sword, and the water became red with blood. And, as the other fish flee from under a dolphin of huge size and, in their terror, fill the nooks of a well-sheltered harbour - for greedily does he devour whichever (one) he catches - so the Trojans cowered down beneath the overhanging banks of the streams of that dread river. And, when his hands grew weary of slaying, he chose twelve youths live from the river (as) payment for the dead Patroclus, son of Menoetius. These he led outside, amazed like fawns, and he bound their hands behind (them) with the well-cut straps, which they themselves used to wear on their pliant tunics, and he gave (them) to his comrades to lead (them) down to the hollow ships. Then, back he sprang again, eager to slaughter.  

Ll. 34-63. Achilles captures Lycaon, son of Priam. 

There he met a son of Dardanian Priam, (as he was) fleeing from the river, (namely) Lycaon, whom he himself had once taken and brought, against his will, from his father's orchard, having come forth during the night; and he was cutting the young shoots of a wild fig-tree, in order to be the rims of a chariot; but upon (him) came godlike Achilles, that unexpected bane. Then, he sold him to well-established Lemnos, having led (him there) in his ships, but the son of Jason (i.e. Euneos) had given a price (for him). But a guest-friend ransomed him from there, (namely,) Eëtion of Imbros, and a good price he gave, and he sent him to sacred Arisbe (i.e. probably a sanctuary on Lemnos); from there he secretly escaped and came to his ancestral home (i.e. Troy). Having come from Lemnos, his heart was joyful amid his loved ones for eleven days; but on the twelfth (day) a god threw him once more into the hands of Achilles, who would send him to Hades, loath though he was to go (there). Now, when swift-footed godlike Achilles became aware of him, (he was) unarmed, without helmet and shield, nor was he carrying a spear, but he had thrown away all these (things) on to the ground; for sweat oppressed (him), as he fled from the river, and weariness came over his knees; then, sorely angered, he (i.e. Achilles) spoke to his great-hearted spirit: "Oh, in truth, this is a great wonder that I behold with my eyes; the great-hearted Trojans, whom I have slain, will assuredly rise up again from the murky darkness below, seeing that this (man) has come (here), having escaped the pitiless day (of doom), when he was sold across the sea into sacred Lemnos; nor has the salt of the grey sea held him back, though it restrains many (men) against their will. But come now, the point of our grey spear shall he taste, so that I may see in my heart and know whether he will come back from that place in a similar manner, or whether the life-giving earth, which holds down even a strong (man), will restrain him."  

Ll. 64-96. Lycaon begs Achilles not to slay him.

So he (i.e. Achilles) waited and pondered; but the other one (i.e. Lycaon) came near him in a dazed state, eager to touch his knees, and he very much wished in his heart to escape grim death and dark fate. Now, godlike Achilles raised his long spear, eager to smite (him), but the other one ran under it, and, bending forward, took hold of his knees; and the spear stuck in the ground over his back, eager to have its fill of human flesh. Then, he began to beg (for mercy), as he clasped his knees with one hand, and held the sharp-edged spear with the other, nor would he let (it) go; and he spoke these winged words as he addressed him: "By your knees, I beseech you, Achilles; and do you take pity on me and show me mercy; beloved of Zeus, I am equivalent to you and deserving of respect; for I first ate the grain of Demeter with you, on that day when you took me captive in that well-ordered orchard, and you sold me across the sea, taking me to sacred Lemnos far from my father and my friends, and I earned you the price of a hundred oxen. And now I have bought my freedom by paying three times as much; and this is my twelfth morning, since I came to Ilium, having suffered much; now deadly fate has put me in your hands once more; I must surely be hated by Father Zeus, (seeing that) he has given me to you again; now, my mother bore me to a short span of life, Laothoe (that is), the daughter of old man Altes, Altes (that is), he who is lord of the war-loving Leleges and who dwells in lofty Pedasus (i.e. a town in the Troad) on the (river) Satnioeis. Priam had his daughter to be his wife, and many others too; and from her the two (of us) were born, and you will cut the throats of (us) both. In truth, you overcame him among the foremost men-at-arms, godlike Polydorus (that is), when you struck (him) with a sharp spear; and now evil shall come upon me even here; for I do not think I shall escape your hands, since a god has brought (me to them). And I will tell you another (thing), and do you bear it in your mind; do not slay me, since I am not (come) from the same womb as Hector, who killed your kind and valiant companion."

Ll. 97-135. The death of Lycaon.     

So the glorious son of Priam spoke to him with words of entreaty, but the voice he heard (was) a harsh (one): "(You) fool, do not talk to me of ransom, nor try to lecture me; for, until Patroclus met his fateful day, so it was, to some extent, a better (thing) in my mind to spare the Trojans, and I took many (of them) alive and sold them overseas; but now there is not one (of them) who shall escape death, not one of all those Trojans whom a god shall deliver into my hands, and (that is) particularly (the case) with regard to the sons of Priam. And you too shall die, my friend; why then do you lament in such a way? Patroclus also died, though (he was) a much better (man) than you. Do you not see what kind (of man) I (am), both tall and handsome? I am (the son) of a noble father (i.e. Peleus), and the mother (who) bore me (i.e. Thetis) (is) a goddess; but, let me tell you, over me too (hang) death and mighty fate; a morning, or an evening, or a mid-day shall come, when some (man) shall take my life in battle, whether he struck me with a spear or with an arrow from the string."   

So he (i.e. Achilles) spoke, and then did his (i.e. Lycaon's) knees and his heart collapse; and he let go of the spear, and he sat with both his hands outstretched; then, Achilles drew his sharp sword and smote (him) on the collar-bone beside the neck, and the whole of his two-edged sword sank into him; and he lay there prone stretched upon the ground, and dark blood flowed forth and soaked the earth. Then, Achilles seized him by the  foot and flung (him) into the river to float, and, as he exulted over him, he spoke these winged words: "Lie there now among the fishes, who shall carelessly lick the blood from your wound; nor shall your mother lay you on a bier and lament, but the swirling Scamander will bear you into the broad gulf of the sea; many a fish, as he springs beneath the waves, shall dart beneath the black ripples, and he shall eat the white fat of Lycaon. So shall you perish as we come to the city of sacred Ilium, you in flight and I creating havoc in your rear. Not even the fair-flowing river with his silver eddies will assist you, and to him you used, for a long time, to sacrifice many bulls, and to cast single-hooved horses into his eddies, (while they were still) alive. But even so you will perish by an evil fate, until you have all paid the price for the death of Patroclus and the destruction of those Achaeans, whom you slew by the swift ships in my absence."

Ll. 136-160. Asteropaeus challenges Achilles.

So he spoke, and the river (god) (i.e. Xanthus) was further angered in his heart, and pondered in his mind how he might restrain godlike Achilles from his work, and ward off ruin from the Trojans. Meanwhile, in his eagerness to slay (him), the son of Peleus leapt with his long-shafted spear upon Asteropaeus, the son of Pelegon; and the broad-flowing Axius and Periboea, Acessamenus' eldest daughter, had begotten him; for the deeply-eddying river (god) had lain with her. So, Achilles sprang at him, and he stood forth from the river to face (him), holding two spears. Now, Xanthus put courage in his heart, since he had been angered at the slaying of the active men, whom Achilles was cutting down along the stream without pity. But, when they were at close range, as they advanced against one another, swift-footed godlike Achilles spoke to him first: "Who among men, and from where, are you, who has dared to come against me? Unhappy (are they whose) children will face my might."  

Then, the glorious son of Pelegon replied to him: "Great-hearted son of Peleus, why indeed do you ask about my birth? I come from fertile Paeonia (i.e. a region of Thrace), (a place) which is far away, bringing (with me) men of Paeonia with their long spears; and, as for me, this is now the eleventh morning since I came to Ilium. But my descent (is) from the wide-flowing Axius, whose water is the loveliest on earth, who begat Pelegon, renowned for his spear; and they say that he was my father; now then, glorious Achilles, let us fight!"

Ll. 161-199. The death of Asteropaeus.

So he spoke in a threatening manner, but godlike Achilles lifted up his spear of Pelian ash; then, the warrior Asteropaeus threw spears from both of his hands at the same time, for he was ambidextrous. Now, with one spear he struck his shield, but it did not pierce the shield right through; for gold, the gift of a god, blocked (it); and with the other (hand) he smote him with a grazing blow on the elbow of his right arm, and black blood spouted forth; but, though longing to taste the flesh, it fixed itself in the earth above him. Then, secondly, in his eagerness to slaw (him), Achilles hurled his straight-flying ashen spear at Asteropaeus. But he missed his (man), and he struck the lofty bank, and he drove the ashen spear up to half of its length into the bank. But the son of Peleus, drawing his sharp sword from beside his thigh, leapt eagerly upon him; but the other (one) could not draw Achilles' ashen spear from the bank with his stout hand. Three times he made it quiver in his eagerness to draw (it), and three times he withdrew his efforts; but on the fourth (occasion) he wished in his heart to bend and break the ashen spear of the son of Aeacus (i.e. Achilles' father, Peleus), but before that Achilles (drew) near and took away his life with his sword. For he struck him in the belly beside his navel, and all his bowels gushed forth on to the ground; and darkness covered his eyes as he (lay) gasping; then, Achilles leapt upon his breast, and stripped him of his armour and said these words in triumph: "So, lie (there); hard (it is) for you to strive with the children of the most mighty son of Cronos, begat from a river (god) though (you may be). You said you were born from a wide-flowing river, but I claim to be sprung from almighty Zeus. The man who begat me is lord of the many Myrmidons, (namely) Peleus, son of Aeacus; and Aeacus himself was sprung from Zeus. Therefore, as Zeus is mightier than the rivers that flow into the sea, so the stock of Zeus (is) mightier than (that which) stems from a river. For beside you there is a great river, if it can help you in any way; but there is (to be) no fighting with Zeus, the son of Cronos, and not even lord Achelous (i.e. by tradition the largest and most ancient river in Greece, it rises in the Central Pindus Mountains and flows for 140 miles to the Ionian Sea to the west) can vie with him, nor the great might of the deep-flowing Ocean, from whom flow all rivers and all seas, all springs and all deep wells; but he too is afraid of the lightning and dread thunder of great Zeus, when it crashes down from heaven." 

Ll. 200-232. Achilles continues to kill one Trojan after another, until the Scamander makes a protest. 

So he (i.e. Achilles) spoke, and he drew forth his spear of bronze from the bank, and there he left him (i.e. Asteropaeus) lying on the sand, since he had robbed him of his life, and they dark water kept him wet. Then, the eels and the fishes took charge of him, plucking out and feeding on the fat on his kidneys, but he (i.e. Achilles) went his way after the Paeonian horsemen, who were still running in panic along the swirling river, when they saw their best (man) in the fierce conflict forcibly vanquished beneath the hands and sword of the son of Peleus. There he slew Thersilochus, and Mydon, and Astypylus, and Mnesus, and Thrasius, and Aenius and Ophelestes; and yet more of the Paeonians would Achilles have slain, if the deep swirling river, in the guise of a man, had not addressed (him) in anger and sent forth his voice from a deep whirlpool: "O Achilles, beyond (all) men you are the strongest, and beyond (all men) do you perform evil (deeds); for the gods themselves always give you assistance. If the son of Cronos has given you (the power) to slay all the men of Troy, do you drive them from my (stream) and do your deadly deeds on the plain; nor, choked with bodies (as I am), can I pour forth my waters into the bright sea, while you continue your murderous slaughter. But come, let (things) be! Amazement takes hold of me, (you) leader of hosts."

Then, swift-footed Achilles said to him in answer: "So shall it be, Scamander, nurtured of Zeus, just as you say. But I shall not cease from slaying the proud Trojans, until I have penned (them) in the city, and I have tried to match myself with Hector face to face, whether he should slay me, or I him."

So saying, he leapt upon the Trojans like a god; and then the deep-swirling river addressed Apollo: "Shame on you, (lord) of the silver bow, child of Zeus, you have not respected the will of the son of Cronos, who strongly enjoined you to stand by the Trojans and protect (them), until the the late-setting (star of) evening shall come, and has darkened the very fertile ploughland."   

Ll. 233-271. Achilles is harassed by the Scamander. 

So he (i.e. Xanthus/the Scamander) spoke, and Achilles, famed for his spear, sprang from the overhanging bank and leapt into the midst (of the stream); and he (i.e. Xanthus/the Scamander) rushed furiously upon him in a swell, and whipped up all his waters into turmoil, and pushed away the many dead bodies that were heaped in his (bed, of men) whom Achilles had slain, and cast them out on to (dry) land, bellowing like a bull; and the living he rescued by means of his lovely streams, hiding (them) in his eddies deep (and) wide. But the water rose up around Achilles, seething terribly, and the stream beat upon his shield and thrust (him back), nor was he able to stand firmly on his feet; but he grasped in his hands an elm-tree tall (and) shapely; but it fell from the roots and tore away the whole bank, and it held back the whole stream with its thick branches, and he (i.e. Xanthus/the Scamander) dammed himself up as they crashed into the entire river, but he (i.e. Achilles) sprang out from the eddy, and, in his fear, he darted in flight across the plain on his swift feet; but the great god (i.e. Xanthus/the Scamander) did not leave off, but rushed upon him in a darkening swell, so that he might stop godlike Achilles from his work, and ward off destruction from the Trojans. But the son of Peleus rushed off as far as the cast of a spear with the swoop of a black eagle, the hunter that (is) both the strongest and the swiftest of winged (creatures); like him he darted, and the bronze (armour) on his breast rang terribly; and he fled from beneath the swerving of the flood, but it followed behind him, flowing with a mighty roar. And, as when a man conducts water from a dusky spring amid his plants and gardens, he guides its flow, and, with a mattock in his hands, he clears away the obstacles from the water-course; and, as it flowed forwards, all the small pebbles are swept away by (the water), and it murmurs as it glides swiftly along in sloping country, and even outstrips its guide; so did the flood of the river always overtake Achilles, even though he was fleet of foot; for gods are mightier than men. As often as the swift-footed godlike Achilles sought to make a stand against (him), and to see if all the immortals who hold broad heaven were forcing him to flee, so often would the great flood of the heaven-sent river crash down upon his shoulders from above; and the river would overpower his knees, as it flowed furiously beneath (him), and wash away the dust beneath his feet. 

Ll. 272-297. Poseidon and Athene come to the assistance of Achilles. 

Then, the son of Peleus uttered a bitter cry as he looked at the broad heaven; "Father Zeus, how (is it) that not one of the gods undertook to rescue me in my plight from the river? Then should I suffer anything! In my case, not one of the heavenly beings (is) as culpable as my dear mother, who beguiled me with falsehoods; she said that I should perish by the swift missiles of Apollo beneath the wall of the mail-clad Trojans. Would that Hector had slain me, (he) who is the best (man) bred here; then would a brave (man) have been the slayer, and a brave (man) would have been slain; but now I am fated to be taken by a miserable death, trapped (as I am) in the great river like a boy herding pigs, whom the torrent sweeps away as he is crossing in a storm."

So he spoke, and then Poseidon and Athene came very quickly and stood by his side, like mortal men in form, and they clasped his hands in their hands and reassured him with their words. And of the two of them, Poseidon the Earth-Shaker was the first to speak: "Son of Peleus, do not tremble so much, and do not be at all afraid; for we, let me tell you, are your helpers from the gods, of whom Zeus approves, even I and Pallas Athene; therefore, it is not your destiny to be vanquished by a river, but he will soon give you respite, and you shall know (it) yourself; but we will give you wise counsel, if you should hearken to (it); do not withhold your hands from fearful battle, until you have penned the Trojan host who have escaped you within the famed walls of Ilium; and, when you have deprived Hector of his life, go you back to the ships; and we grant that you win this glory."    

Ll. 298-323. Xanthus seeks the assistance of Simois in checking Achilles. 

When the two of them had spoken thus, they went back among the immortals; but he (i.e. Achilles) went towards the plain, for the bidding of the gods had mightily aroused (him); and the whole (plain) was filled with a flood of water and the fair suits of armour and the corpses of young men slain in battle; but his knees leapt on high as he rushed straight on towards the plain, nor could the wide-flowing river hold him back; for Athene had put great strength in (him). nor would the Scamander abate his fury, but he was even more wrathful with the son of Peleus, and, raising himself aloft, he called out with a shout to Simois (the god of the River Simois, which flows from Mount Ida to the plain of Troy, where, he joined the Xanthus/Scamander): "May the two of us check the might of this man, seeing that he will soon destroy the great city of King Priam, and the Trojans will not withstand (him) in battle. But come you with all speed to my aid and fill your streams with water from your springs, and arouse all your torrents and make a great wave, and raise a great din of tree-trunks and stones, so that we may check this fierce man, who prevails even now, and he strives in equality with the gods. I do not think that his strength or his appearance will avail (him) at all, nor those fine arms which will lie deep beneath the mere, covered by slime; and himself will I enwrap in the sands of the seashore, and over him shall I spread a mass of shingle, beyond measurement, nor will the Achaeans know (from where) to gather his bones; such a pile of silt shall I heap on top of him. Here will his sepulchre be forged, nor will he have any need of a cairn, when the Achaeans shall come to inter him." 

Ll. 324-360. The fires of Hephaestus lead Xanthus into submission.

(So) he (i.e. Xanthus) spoke, and, in his excitement, he rushed at Achilles, raging on high and seething with foam, and blood and corpses. And a dark wave of the heaven-fed river stood hanging (above him), and was about to overwhelm the son of Peleus; but Hera cried out loudly, in her fear for Achilles, lest the great deep-swirling river should sweep him away, and forthwith she spoke to her dear son Hephaestus: "Rouse yourself, my crook-footed child, for it was against you that we thought to match the swirling Xanthus in fight; but do you bring help as quickly as possible, and kindle a great fire. But I will come and rouse from the sea a fierce blast of the West Wind and the brightening South Wind, which, by driving on the evil flame, shall utterly consume the Trojans and their battle-gear, and do you burn up his trees along the banks of the Xanthus, and set him on fire; and do not let him turn you back at all with soft words and threats; and do not put a stop to your fury, but only when I call (you) with a shout, and then do you quench your tireless fire."`So she spoke, and Hephaestus made ready a god-kindled fire. The fire was first kindled on the plain, and it buried many corpses, which lay in piles around him, (of men) whom Achilles had slain; and the whole plain was parched, and the shining water was held back. And, as when in the early autumn the North Wind dries up a freshly watered garden, and he who tills it is glad, so the whole plain was parched and he consumed the dead bodies; and then he turned his gleaming flame towards the river. And the elms, and the willows and the tamarisk bushes were burned, and burned were the lotus and the rushes and the galingale that grew in abundance around the fair streams of the river; distressed were the eels and the fishes in the eddies, and they tumbled this way and that in the fair streams, sore distressed by the blast of the quick-witted Hephaestus. And the mighty river (i.e. Xanthus) burned as well, and spoke these words in a loud voice: "None of the gods can vie with you (i.e. Hephaestus), nor can I fight with you, ablaze with fire as you are. Cease from strife, and (as for) the Trojans, let the godlike Achilles drive (them) out of their city at once; what have I to do with strife and the bearing of aid?" 

Ll. 361-399. The strife of the gods continues.

So he (i.e. Xanthus) spoke, burning with fire. And as a cauldron boils within, when driven by a fierce fire, and it melts the lard of a plump fatted hog, while bubbling up on every side, and dry pieces of timber are laid beneath (it), so his fair streams burned with fire, and the water boiled; nor did he wish to flow any further, but he held himself in check; and the blast of the might of resourceful Hephaestus distressed (him). Then, as he prayed urgently to Hera, he spoke these winged words: "Why, pray, has your son soiled my stream in order to torment me beyond (all) the others? Truly, I am not so much at fault as all the others, who are helping the Trojans. But I shall certainly stop, if you bid (me). But let him also stop; for I shall swear this (oath), never to ward off the evil day from the Trojans, not even when all of Troy is burning with raging fire, and the warlike sons of the Achaeans shall kindle (it)." 

Now, when the white-armed goddess Hera heard this (plea), she spoke at once to her dear son Hephaestus: "Check yourself, Hephaestus, my glorious child; for it is not seemly to strike an immortal god in this way for the sake of mortals!"  

So she spoke, and Hephaestus quenched his wondrous fire, and the fair streams rushed back down again, but, when the fury of Xanthus was overcome, then the two of them ceased (to fight), for Hera restrained (them) despite her anger; but strife, weighty (and) grievous, fell upon the other gods, and the spirit in their breasts was driven in different directions; then, they joined together with a great crash, and the wide earth rang (with it), and great heaven rang loudly round about (them), as with a trumpet. And Zeus heard (it) as he sat upon Olympus; and the heart within him laughed loudly with joy, as he beheld the gods joining in strife. Then, they no more held aloof; for Ares, piercer of shields, began (the fray), and he leapt first upon Athene with his brazen spear, and he spoke these words of reproach: "Why then, you dog-fly, are you driving the gods in strife with your stormy courage, as your mighty spirit forces (you) on with your stormy courage? Or do you not remember (the time) when you sent Diomedes, the son of Tydeus, to wound me and you openly grasped his spear and drove (it) straight at me, and rent my fair flesh? So, now I think that you will pay the price for all that you have done." 

Ll. 400-433. Athene overcomes Aphrodite.

Thus speaking, he struck at the dread tasselled aegis, against which not even the lightning of Zeus could prevail; there did the murderous Ares strike at it with his long spear. But she (i.e. Athene) drew back, and with her stout hand she seized a stone that lay on the plain, black, and jagged and huge (it was), which men of former times had set there to be the boundary mark of a field; with it she smote the furious Ares on the neck, and loosened his limbs. And in his fall he stretched over seven plethra (i.e. about seven hundred feet), and he sullied his hair with dust, and his armour clanged about him; but Athene laughed, and, exulting over him, she spoke these winged words: "(You) childish (one), not even yet have you now learned how much stronger (than you) I claim to be, so that you match your strength with mine. So you shall fully satisfy the Erinyes (i.e. the Furies) invoked by your mother (i.e. Hera), who devises evil (things) against you in her wrath, because you deserted the Achaeans and bring aid to the overbearing Trojans."

When she (i.e. Athene) had thus spoken, she turned her bright eyes away (from him); then, Aphrodite, the daughter of Zeus, took his hand and sought to lead him away, groaning very frequently (as he was); and scarcely were his senses recovering. But, when the white-armed goddess Hera became aware of her, forthwith she spoke these winged words to Athene: "Alas, Atrytone (i.e. the Tireless One, an epithet of Athene), the child of Zeus who bears the aegis, there again the dog-fly (i.e. Aphrodite) is leading Ares, the bane of mortals, amid the throng from the press of battle; but (you must) go after her." 

So she (i.e. Hera) spoke, and Athene pursued (her) glad at heart, and she came up and smote her (i.e. Aphrodite), and there her knees were loosened and her heart (melted). So, they both lay on the bounteous earth, and, exultingly, she (i.e. Athene) spoke these winged words: "Like this may they all now be, who fight against the mail-clad Argives to aid the Trojans, even as daring and steadfast as Aphrodite (was) when she came as an ally to Ares to face my strength; now soon after this we shall have ceased from war, having sacked the well-established city of Ilium." 

Ll. 434-467. Poseidon and Apollo argue with each other.

So she (i.e. Athene) spoke, and the white-armed goddess Hera smiled (at this). But the Lord Earth-shaker (i.e. Poseidon) addressed Apollo: "Why, Phoebus, are the two of us standing aloof? It does not seem right when others have made a start. Shameful it would be, if we went back without fighting to Olympus and to the house of Zeus with its brazen base; for you (are) the younger by birth; for in my case it would not be right, since I am the elder born, and know more. (You) fool, what a stupid heart you have! Nor do you now remember all the woes we two, alone of the gods, suffered around Ilium, when, at the bidding of Zeus, we came to serve the lordly Laomedon for a year at a stipulated price; and he gave us orders and told us what to do. Indeed, for the Trojans I built a wall around their city, wide and very magnificent (it was), so that their city would be impregnable. And you, Phoebus, tended cattle with a shambling gait and twisted horns on the slopes of wooded Ida with its many glens. But now, when the glad seasons were bringing to an end the (terms of) our hire, then did dread Laomedon defraud the two of us of all of our wages, and send us away in a threatening manner. And he threatened that he would bind our feet and hands together from above, and export us for sale to some distant islands; and he promised to lop off the ears of us both with his bronze (dagger). Then, the two of us (i.e. Poseidon and Apollo) went back with malice in our hearts, angry at the wages, which he had promised (us) but had not delivered. Now you (i.e. Apollo) are showing favour to his (i.e. Laomedon's) folks, nor do you seek with us that the overbearing Trojans should perish in a wretched plight with their children and their honoured wives."

Then, the far-shooting lord Apollo spoke to him (i.e. Poseidon) again: "(You would) not (consider) me to be of sound mind, if I should go to war with you for the sake of wretched mortals, who are like leaves, at one time full of flames, consuming the fruit of the field, and at another time they pine away and perish. But let us speedily cease from fighting; and may they do battle by themselves." 

Ll. 468-501. Artemis is overpowered by Hera.

So, having spoken, he (i.e. Apollo) turned back, for he felt ashamed to engage hand to hand with his father's brother (i.e. Poseidon). But his sister, the huntress Artemis, the queen of wild beasts, strongly berated him, and spoke these words of reproach: "Then, far-shooter, you are fleeing, and you have yielded a complete victory to Poseidon, and a worthless offering you have given him; (you) fool, why do you now bear a bow (which is) so windy (i.e. useless)? Now I shall no longer hear you boasting in the halls of our father that once among the immortal gods, you fought face to face against Poseidon."

So she spoke, but Apollo the far-shooter did not reply to her at all, but the revered wife of Zeus (was) angered and rebuked the lady of the bow (i.e. Artemis) with these reproachful words: "How do you now strive to stand against me, (you) fearless bitch? I am, let me tell you, hard to match in might, even in the case of a bow-bearer, since it was against women that Zeus made you a lion, and granted that you slay whichever one you wish. Surely it is better to be slaying wild beasts and deer in the mountains than to be fighting (those) mightier (than you) in strength. But, if you wish to learn about war, then may you know full well how much stronger I am, whenever you match your strength with mine." 

So she (i.e. Hera) spoke, and she grabbed both her arms at the wrist with her left hand, and with her right hand she took the bow and quiver from her shoulders, and with these she beat (her) about the ears, as she kept on turning around smiling; and the swift arrows fell from (their quiver). Then, from underneath (her) the goddess (i.e. Artemis) fled away in tears, like a dove that flew before a falcon into a hollow rock, a cleft; so, it is not her fate to be caught; then she ran away in tears, and she left her bow and arrows there. But the messenger, the slayer of Argos (i.e. Hermes), spoke to Leto (i.e. the mother of Artemis):  "I will not fight with you in any way; for hard (it is) to bandy blows with the wives of Zeus the cloud-gatherer, but I am very willing that you should boast among the immortal gods that you did overpower me with your mighty strength." 

Ll. 502-536. While the gods quarrel, Achilles continues to slay the Trojans. 

So he (i.e. Hermes) spoke, and Leto gathered up the curved bow and arrows that had fallen here and there amid the whirl of dust. When she had taken her daughter's bow and arrows, she went back; and the maiden (i.e. Artemis) went to the bronze-floored mansion of Zeus on Olympus, and sat weeping on her father's knees, and her immortal robe quivered around (her); then, her father, the son of Cronos, drew her to him, and, laughing pleasantly, he began to question her: "Which of the heavenly beings has been treating you in so thoughtless a manner as this, my dear child, as if you were openly doing something wicked?" 

And the well-crowned (goddess) answered him again in a clear voice: "(It was) your wife, white-armed Hera, who beat me, Father; because of her, quarrels and strife have taken hold of the immortals." 

Thus did they say such (things) to each other; then did Phoebus Apollo enter the sacred (city of) Ilium; for it was a matter of concern to him that the Danaans should not sack the wall of the well-built city on that day contrary to its destiny. But the rest of the ever-living gods went (back) to Olympus, some angry, and some openly rejoicing; and they sat down beside their father, wrapt in clouds (as he was); but Achilles continued to slay the Trojans, both them and their single-hooved horses alike. And, as when smoke from some burning city goes up to the broad sky, when the anger of the gods has kindled it, and toil comes upon everyone, and sorrow is extended to many, even so did Achilles bring toil and sorrow to the Trojans.  

And the old man Priam stood upon the sacred wall, and became aware of the monstrous Achilles; now the Trojans were being driven by him forthwith in headlong flight, and there was no help (for them). Then, he got down from the wall with a groan, and, calling upon the renowned gate-keepers along the wall, (he said): "Hold the gates wide open with your hands, until the people shall come to the city in their flight; for here at hand is Achilles as he drives (them) on; now I think there will be deadly (work). But, when they get their breath back, confined within the wall, then close the close-fitting double-doors again; for I am afraid lest that dreadful man should jump on to the wall."  

Ll. 537-570. Agenor prepares to take on Achilles.

So he spoke, and they opened the gates and pulled back the bolts; and the opening of the gates brought deliverance; but Apollo leapt forth to face (Achilles), in order to ward off ruin from the Trojans. And they were fleeing straight for the city and its high wall, parched with thirst and covered in dust from the plain; and he (i.e. Achilles) pursued (them) eagerly with his spear, and a mighty rage ever took hold of his heart, and he earnestly desired to win (himself) glory. 

Then would the sons of the Achaeans have taken high-gated Troy, if Phoebus Apollo had not aroused the godlike Agenor, son of Antenor, and a peerless and most powerful man (he was). He put courage in his heart, and he himself stood by his side, as he was leaning against an oak-tree (i.e. the one near the Scaean Gate), in order that he might ward off the heavy hands of death; and he was hidden in thick mist. But he halted, when he saw Achilles, sacker of cities, and his dark heart (pondered) many (things) as he waited; and, heavy at heart, he (i.e. Agenor) spoke to his great-hearted spirit: "Woe is me; if I flee from mighty Achilles (to the place) where the rest are being driven, distraught with terror (as they are); even so shall he slay me, and in my impotence behead (me).  But (what) if I should suffer these (men) to be driven in rout by Achilles, son of Peleus, and flee on my feet from the wall elsewhere towards the plain of Ilium, until I come to the slopes of Ida and dive into the bushes; then, in the evening, when I have washed myself in the river and got rid of my sweat, I may return to Ilium; but why does my heart converse with me about these (things)? Let him not notice me, as I set off from the city to the plain, and, darting after me, overtake me with his fleetness of foot. Then, it will no longer be possible to avoid death and the fates; for he is exceedingly mighty beyond all men. But (what) if I go forth to meet him in front of the city; for even his flesh may be vulnerable to this sharp bronze, and in him there is but one life, and mortal do men consider him to be; however, Zeus, the son of Cronos, gives the glory to him (i.e. Achilles)."

Ll. 571-611. Apollo saves Agenor.

So saying, he (i.e. Agenor) crouched down and awaited Achilles, and the valiant heart within him was eager to wage war and to fight. Just as a leopardess goes forth from a deep thicket before the face of a huntsman, and has no fear at all in her heart, and does not flee when she hears the baying (of hounds); for even though he outstrips her and wounds or strikes (her), yet, though she is pierced through by a spear, she does not cease from her fury, until she grapples with him or is slain; so did godlike Agenor, the son of lordly Antenor, refuse to flee until he should put Achilles to the test. But he held before (him) his all even (i.e. quite round) shield and took aim at him with his spear, and loudly shouted: "Now I think that you very much hope in your heart, glorious Achilles, to sack the city of the lordly Trojans on this day, fool (that you are); in truth, many woes will still be brought about because of her. For within her there are many valiant men, who in front of their dear parents, wives and sons are guarding Ilium; and here you shall meet your doom, despite your being so violent and daring a warrior."  

So he (i.e. Agenor) spoke, and he hurled the sharp spear from his heavy hand, and it struck (him) (i.e Achilles) on the shin below the knee, and it did not miss (him). And the greave of newly wrought tin rang out terribly around him; but the bronze (point) darted back from (him) after it had struck (him), nor did it pierce (him), but the gift of the god held it back.Then, the son of Peleus set upon godlike Agenor in his turn; but Apollo did not allow (him) to win glory, but snatched him away and covered (him) in thick mist, and sent him quietly away from the battle. But he kept the son of Peleus away from the people by a trick; for resembling Agenor himself in every way, the one who works from afar stood in front of his feet, and rushed to pursue (him) on his feet; while he pursued him over the wheat-bearing plain, and, turning towards the deep-swirling river Scamander, he kept running a little in front of him; and Apollo deceived (him) with his cunning, so that he ever hoped to overtake him on his feet; meanwhile, the rest of the Trojans, having been put to flight, came gladly to the city in a mass, and the town was filled with them thronging together. They no longer dared to await one another outside the city and its wall, and to know who had escaped and who had been slain in battle; but they poured eagerly into the city, whichever one of them his feet and his knees had saved.