Intertexts: Homer, Virgil and the Homeric Apocrypha

1–32The wrath sing, goddess, of Peleus' son, Achilles, that destructive wrath which brought countless woes upon the Achaeans, and sent forth to Hades many valiant souls of heroes, and made them themselves spoil for dogs and every bird; thus the plan of Zeus came to fulfillment,from the time when first they parted in strife Atreus' son, king of men, and brilliant Achilles. Who then of the gods was it that brought these two together to contend? The son of Leto and Zeus; for he in anger against the king roused throughout the host an evil pestilence, and the people began to perish,because upon the priest Chryses the son of Atreus had wrought dishonour. For he had come to the swift ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, bearing ransom past counting; and in his hands he held the wreaths of Apollo who strikes from afar, on a staff of gold; and he implored all the Achaeans,but most of all the two sons of Atreus, the marshallers of the people: Sons of Atreus, and other well-greaved Achaeans, to you may the gods who have homes upon Olympus grant that you sack the city of Priam, and return safe to your homes; but my dear child release to me, and accept the ransomout of reverence for the son of Zeus, Apollo who strikes from afar. Then all the rest of the Achaeans shouted assent, to reverence the priest and accept the glorious ransom, yet the thing did not please the heart of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, but he sent him away harshly, and laid upon him a stern command: Let me not find you, old man, by the hollow ships, either tarrying now or coming back later, lest your staff and the wreath of the god not protect you. Her I will not set free. Sooner shall old age come upon her in our house, in Argos, far from her native land,as she walks to and fro before the loom and serves my bed. But go, do not anger me, that you may return the safer.

1–4Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many devices, who wandered full many ways after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many were the men whose cities he saw and whose mind he learned, aye, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the sea,

5–9seeking to win his own life and the return of his comrades. Yet even so he saved not his comrades, though he desired it sore, for through their own blind folly they perished—fools, who devoured the kine of Helios Hyperion; but he took from them the day of their returning.

10–14Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where thou wilt, tell thou even unto us. Now all the rest, as many as had escaped sheer destruction, were at home, safe from both war and sea, but Odysseus alone, filled with longing for his return and for his wife, did the queenly nymph Calypso, that bright goddess,

15–19keep back in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband. But when, as the seasons revolved, the year came in which the gods had ordained that he should return home to Ithaca, not even there was he free from toils, even among his own folk. And all the gods pitied him

20–24save Poseidon; but he continued to rage unceasingly against godlike Odysseus until at length he reached his own land. Howbeit Poseidon had gone among the far-off Ethiopians—the Ethiopians who dwell sundered in twain, the farthermost of men, some where Hyperion sets and some where he rises,

374–416Neither counsel will I devise with him nor any work,for utterly hath he deceived me and sinned against me. Never again shall he beguile me with words; the past is enough for him. Nay, let him go to his ruin in comfort, seeing that Zeus the counsellor hath utterly robbed him of his wits. Hateful in my eyes are his gifts, I count them at a hair's worth. Not though he gave me ten times, aye twenty times all that now he hath,and if yet other should be added thereto I care not whence, not though it were all the wealth that goeth in to Orchomenus, or to Thebes of Egypt, where treasures in greatest store are laid up in men's houses,—Thebes which is a city of an hundred gates wherefrom sally forth through each two hundred warriors with horses and cars;—nay, not though he gave gifts in number as sand and dust; not even so shall Agamemnon any more persuade my soul, until he hath paid the full price of all the despite that stings my heart. And the daughter of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, will I not wed, not though she vied in beauty with golden Aphroditeand in handiwork were the peer of flashing-eyed Athene: not even so will I wed her; let him choose another of the Achaeans that is of like station with himself and more kingly than I. For if the gods preserve me, and I reach my home, Peleus methinks will thereafter of himself seek me a wife.Many Achaean maidens there be throughout Hellas and Phthia, daughters of chieftains that guard the cities; of these whomsoever I choose shall I make my dear wife. Full often was my proud spirit fain to take me there a wedded wife, a fitting helpmeet,and to have joy of the possessions that the old man Peleus won him. For in my eyes not of like worth with life is even all that wealth that men say Ilios possessed, the well-peopled citadel, of old in time of peace or ever the sons of the Achaeans came,—nay, nor all that the marble threshold of the ArcherPhoebus Apollo encloseth in rocky Pytho. For by harrying may cattle be had and goodly sheep, and tripods by the winning and chestnut horses withal; but that the spirit of man should come again when once it hath passed the barrier of his teeth, neither harrying availeth nor winning.For my mother the goddess, silver-footed Thetis, telleth me that twofold fates are bearing me toward the doom of death: if I abide here and war about the city of the Trojans, then lost is my home-return, but my renown shall be imperishable; but if I return home to my dear native land,lost then is my glorious renown, yet shall my life long endure, neither shall the doom of death come soon upon me.

417–452Aye, and I would counsel you others also to sail back to your homes; seeing there is no more hope that ye shall win the goal of steep Ilios; for mightily doth Zeus, whose voice is borne afar,hold forth his hand above her, and her people are filled with courage. But go ye your way and declare my message to the chieftains of the Achaeans—for that is the office of elders—to the end that they may devise some other plan in their minds better than this, even such as shall save their ships, and the host of the Achaeansbeside the hollow ships; seeing this is not to be had for them, which now they have devised, by reason of the fierceness of my anger. Howbeit let Phoenix abide here with us, and lay him down to sleep, that he may follow with me on my ships to my dear native land on the morrow, if so he will; but perforce will I not take him. So spake he, and they all became hushed in silence, marveling at his words; for with exceeding vehemence did he deny them. But at length there spake among them the old horseman Phoenix, bursting into tears, for that greatly did he fear for the ships of the Achaeans: If verily thou layest up in thy mind, glorious Achilles,the purpose of returning, neither art minded at all to ward from the swift ships consuming fire, for that wrath hath fallen upon thy heart; how can I then, dear child, be left here without thee, alone? It was to thee that the old horseman Peleus sent me on the day when he sent thee to Agamemnon, forth from Phthia,a mere child, knowing naught as yet of evil war, neither of gatherings wherein men wax preeminent. For this cause sent he me to instruct thee in all these things, to be both a speaker of words and a doer of deeds. Wherefore, dear child, I am not minded hereafterto be left alone without thee, nay, not though a god himself should pledge him to strip from me my old age and render me strong in youth as in the day when first I left Hellas, the home of fair women, fleeing from strife with my father Amyntor, son of Ormenus; for he waxed grievously wroth against me by reason of his fair-haired concubine,whom himself he ever cherished, and scorned his wife, my mother. So she besought me by my knees continually, to have dalliance with that other first myself, that the old man might be hateful in her eyes.

475–479How didst thou dare to come down to Hades, where dwell the unheeding dead, the phantoms of men outworn.’ “‘So he spoke, and I made answer and said:‘Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, I came through need of Teiresias, if haply

480–484he would tell me some plan whereby I might reach rugged Ithaca. For not yet have I come near to the land of Achaea, nor have I as yet set foot on my own country, but am ever suffering woes; whereas than thou, Achilles, no man aforetime was more blessed nor shall ever be hereafter. For of old, when thou wast alive, we Argives honored thee even as the gods,

485–489and now that thou art here, thou rulest mightily among the dead. Wherefore grieve not at all that thou art dead, Achilles.’ “So I spoke, and he straightway made answer and said: ‘Nay, seek not to speak soothingly to me of death, glorious Odysseus. I should choose, so I might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another,

490–494of some portionless man whose livelihood was but small, rather than to be lord over all the dead that have perished. But come, tell me tidings of my son, that lordly youth, whether or not he followed to the war to be a leader. And tell me of noble Peleus, if thou hast heard aught,

495–499whether he still has honor among the host of the Myrmidons, or whether men do him dishonor throughout Hellas and Phthia, because old age binds him hand and foot. For I am not there to bear him aid beneath the rays of the sun in such strength as once was mine in wide Troy,

500–504when I slew the best of the host in defence of the Argives. If but in such strength I could come, were it but for an hour, to my father's house, I would give many a one of those who do him violence and keep him from his honor, cause to rue my strength and my invincible hands.’ “So he spoke, and I made answer and said:

275–279Either do thou go first into the stately palace, and enter the company of the wooers, and I will remain behind here, or, if thou wilt, remain thou here and I will go before thee. But do not thou linger long, lest some man see thee without and pelt thee or smite thee. Of this I bid thee take thought.”

280–284Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “I see, I give heed: this thou biddest one with understanding. But go thou before, and I will remain behind here; for no whit unused am I to blows and peltings. Staunch is my heart, for much evil have I suffered

285–289amid the waves and in war; let this too be added to what has gone before. But a ravening belly may no man hide, an accursed plague that brings many evils upon men. Because of it are the benched ships also made ready, that bear evil to foemen over the unresting sea.”

290–294Thus they spoke to one another. And a hound that lay there raised his head and pricked up his ears, Argos, the hound of Odysseus, of the steadfast heart, whom of old he had himself bred, but had no joy of him, for ere that he went to sacred Ilios. In days past the young men were wont to take the hound to hunt

295–299the wild goats, and deer, and hares; but now he lay neglected, his master gone, in the deep dung of mules and cattle, which lay in heaps before the doors, till the slaves of Odysseus should take it away to dung his wide lands.

273–308Then Achilles in his turn hurled his far-shadowing spear and smote upon Aeneas' shield that was well-balanced upon every side,beneath the outermost rim where the bronze ran thinnest, and thinnest was the backing of bull's-hide; and straight through sped the spear of Pelian ash, and the shield rang beneath the blow. And Aeneas cringed and held from him the shield, being seized with fear; and the spear passed over his back and was stayed in the groundfor all its fury, albeit it tore asunder two circles of the sheltering shield. And having escaped the long spear he stood up, and over his eyes measureless grief was shed, and fear came over him for that the spear was planted so nigh. But Achilles drew his sharp sword and leapt upon him furiously,crying a terrible cry; and Aeneas grasped in his hand a stone—a mighty deed—one that not two mortals could bear, such as men are now; yet lightly did he wield it even alone. Then would Aeneas have smitten him with the stone, as he rushed upon him, either on helm or on the shield that had warded from him woeful destruction,and the son of Peleus in close combat would with his sword have robbed Aeneas of life, had not Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, been quick to see. And forthwith he spake among the immortal gods, saying: Now look you, verily have I grief for great-hearted Aeneas, who anon shall go down to the house of Hades,slain by the son of Peleus, for that he listened to the bidding of Apollo that smiteth afar—fool that he was! nor will the god in any wise ward from him woeful destruction. But wherefore should he, a guiltless man, suffer woes vainly by reason of sorrows that are not his own?—whereas he ever giveth acceptable gifts to the gods that hold broad heaven.Nay, come, let us head him forth from out of death, lest the son of Cronos be anywise wroth, if so be Achilles slay him; for it is ordained unto him to escape, that the race of Dardanus perish not without seed and be seen no more—of Dardanus whom the son of Cronos loved above all the children born to himfrom mortal women. For at length hath the son of Cronos come to hate the race of Priam; and now verily shall the mighty Aeneas be king among the Trojans, and his sons' sons that shall be born in days to come.

309–339Then made answer to him the ox-eyed, queenly Hera: Shaker of Earth, of thine own self take counsel in thine heart as touching Aeneas, whether thou wilt save him or suffer him to be slain for all his valour by Achilles, Peleus' son. We twain verily, even Pallas Athene and I,have sworn oaths full many among the immortals never to ward off from the Trojans the day of evil, nay, not when all Troy shall burn in the burning of consuming fire, and the warlike sons of the Achaeans shall be the burners thereof. Now when Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, heard this, he went his way amid the battle and the hurtling of spears,and came to the place where Aeneas was and glorious Achilles. Forthwith then he shed a mist over the eyes of Achilles, Peleus' son, and the ashen spear, well-shod with bronze, he drew forth from the shield of the great-hearted Aeneas and set it before the feet of Achilles,but Aeneas he lifted up and swung him on high from off the ground. Over many ranks of warriors and amny of chariots sprang Aeneas, soaring from the hand of the god, and came to the uttermost verge of the furious battle, where the Caucones were arraying them for the fight. Then close to his side came Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth,and he spake, and addressed him with winged words: Aeneas, what god is it that thus biddeth thee in blindness of heart do battle man to man with the high-hearted son of Peleus, seeing he is a better man than thou, and therewithal dearer to the immortals? Nay, draw thou back, whensoever thou fallest in with him, lest even beyond thy doom thou enter the house of Hades. But when it shall be that Achilles hath met his death and fate, then take thou courage to fight among the foremost, for there is none other of the Achaeans that shall slay thee.

185–189“So soon as ever I saw you with my eyes, goddess, I knew that you were divine; but you did not tell me truly. Yet by Zeus who holds the aegis I beseech you, leave me not to lead a palsied life among men, but have pity on me;

190–194for he who lies with a deathless goddess is no hale man afterwards.”Then Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered him: “Anchises, most glorious of mortal men, take courage and be not too fearful in your heart. You need fear no harm from me

195–199nor from the other blessed ones, for you are dear to the gods: and you shall have a dear son who shall reign among the Trojans, and children's children after him, springing up continually. His name shall be Aeneas,The name Aeneas is here connected with the epithet ainos (awful): similarly the name Odysseus is derived (in Od. i. 62) from ὀδυσσομαι (I grieve). because I felt awful grief in that I laid me in the bed of a mortal man:

200–204yet are those of your race always the most like to gods of all mortal men in beauty and in stature.Aphrodite extenuates her disgrace by claiming that the race of Anchises is almost divine, as is shown in the persons of Ganymedes and Tithonus. Verily wise Zeus carried off golden-haired Ganymedes because of his beauty, to be amongst the Deathless Ones and pour drink for the gods in the house of Zeus —

205–209a wonder to see—,honored by all the immortals as he draws the red nectar from the golden bowl. But grief that could not be soothed filled the heart of Tros; for he knew not whither the heaven-sent whirlwind had caught up his dear son, so that he mourned him always, unceasingly,

254–271Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men, with such a look as clears the skies of storm chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on: “Let Cytherea cast her fears away! Irrevocably blest the fortunes be of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see that City, and the proud predestined wall encompassing Lavinium. Thyself shall starward to the heights of heaven bear Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves my will once uttered. Since such carking cares consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth, and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold. Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond about his gathered people. Summers three shall Latium call him king; and three times pass the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills. His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called (Ilus it was while Ilium's kingdom stood), full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne from the Lavinian citadel, and build for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall.

272–296Here three full centuries shall Hector's race have kingly power; till a priestess queen, by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear; then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear and on his Romans his own name bestow. To these I give no bounded times or power, but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen, Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea with her dread frown, will find a wiser way, and at my sovereign side protect and bless the Romans, masters of the whole round world, who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind. Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due, the heirs of Ilium's kings shall bind in chains Mycenae's glory and Achilles' towers, and over prostrate Argos sit supreme. Of Trojan stock illustriously sprung, lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds, whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he. Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress, thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us, shall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow. Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound will be forgot; for olden Honor then, with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain, Remus and Romulus, at strife no more, will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel be barred impregnably; and prisoned there the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords, and fettered by a hundred brazen chains, shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.”

1–7Arms and the man I sing, who first made way, predestined exile, from the Trojan shore to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand. Smitten of storms he was on land and sea by violence of Heaven, to satisfy stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war he suffered, seeking at the last to found the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods to safe abode in Latium; whence arose the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords, and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.

8–11O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege, or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil a man whose largest honor in men's eyes was serving Heaven? Can gods such anger feel?

12–33In ages gone an ancient city stood— Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar made front on Italy and on the mouths of Tiber's stream; its wealth and revenues were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war. 'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved, most cherished this,—not Samos' self so dear. Here were her arms, her chariot; even then a throne of power o'er nations near and far, if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard that of the Trojan blood there was a breed then rising, which upon the destined day should utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers, a people of wide sway and conquest proud should compass Libya's doom;—such was the web the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well what long and unavailing strife she waged for her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she fail to meditate th' occasions of her rage, and cherish deep within her bosom proud its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made; her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede. With all these thoughts infuriate, her power pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far from Latium; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled, year after year, o'er many an unknown sea— O labor vast, to found the Roman line!

540–544joyful in that I said that his son was preeminent. “And other spirits of those dead and gone stood sorrowing, and each asked of those dear to him. Alone of them all the spirit of Aias, son of Telamon, stood apart, still full of wrath for the victory

545–549that I had won over him in the contest by the ships for the arms of Achilles, whose honored mother had set them for a prize; and the judges were the sons of the Trojans and Pallas Athena. I would that I had never won in the contest for such a prize, over so noble a head did the earth close because of those arms,

550–554even over Aias, who in comeliness and in deeds of war was above all the other Achaeans, next to the peerless son of Peleus. To him I spoke with soothing words: “‘Aias, son of peerless Telamon, wast thou then not even in death to forget thy wrath against me because of

555–559those accursed arms? Surely the gods set them to be a bane to the Argives: such a tower of strength was lost to them in thee; and for thee in death we Achaeans sorrow unceasingly, even as for the life of Achilles, son of Peleus. Yet no other is to blame but Zeus,

560–564who bore terrible hatred against the host of Danaan spearmen, and brought on thee thy doom. Nay, come hither, prince, that thou mayest hear my word and my speech; and subdue thy wrath and thy proud spirit.’ “So I spoke, but he answered me not a word, but went his way to Erebus to join the other spirits of those dead and gone.

565–569Then would he nevertheless have spoken to me for all his wrath, or I to him, but the heart in my breast was fain to see the spirits of those others that are dead. “There then I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus, golden sceptre in hand, giving judgment to the dead

426–476Now hears he sobs, and piteous, lisping cries Of souls of babes upon the threshold plaining; Whom, ere they took their portion of sweet life, Dark Fate from nursing bosoms tore, and plunged In bitterness of death. Nor far from these, The throng of dead by unjust judgment slain. Not without judge or law these realms abide: Wise Minos there the urn of justice moves, And holds assembly of the silent shades, Hearing the stories of their lives and deeds. Close on this place those doleful ghosts abide, Who, not for crime, but loathing life and light With their own hands took death, and cast away The vital essence. Willingly, alas! They now would suffer need, or burdens bear, If only life were given! But Fate forbids. Around them winds the sad, unlovely wave Of Styx: nine times it coils and interflows. Not far from hence, on every side outspread, The Fields of Sorrow lie,—such name they bear; Here all whom ruthless love did waste away Wander in paths unseen, or in the gloom Of dark myrtle grove: not even in death Have they forgot their griefs of long ago. Here impious Phaedra and poor Procris bide; Lorn Eriphyle bares the vengeful wounds Her own son's dagger made; Evadne here, And foul Pasiphae Pasiphaë are seen; hard by, Laodamia, nobly fond and fair; And Caeneus, not a boy, but maiden now, By Fate remoulded to her native seeming. Here Tyrian Dido, too, her wound unhealed, Roamed through a mighty wood. The Trojan's eyes Beheld her near him through the murky gloom, As when, in her young month and crescent pale, One sees th' o'er-clouded moon, or thinks he sees. Down dropped his tears, and thus he fondly spoke: “0 suffering Dido! Were those tidings true That thou didst fling thee on the fatal steel? Thy death, ah me! I dealt it. But I swear By stars above us, by the powers in Heaven, Or whatsoever oath ye dead believe, That not by choice I fled thy shores, 0 Queen! Divine decrees compelled me, even as now Among these ghosts I pass, and thread my way Along this gulf of night and loathsome land. How could I deem my cruel taking leave Would bring thee at the last to all this woe? 0, stay! Why shun me? Wherefore haste away? Our last farewell! Our doom! I speak it now!” Thus, though she glared with fierce, relentless gaze, Aaeneas, with fond words and tearful plea, Would soothe her angry soul. But on the ground She fixed averted eyes. For all he spoke Moved her no more than if her frowning brow Were changeless flint or carved in Parian stone. Then, after pause, away in wrath she fled, And refuge took within the cool, dark grove, Where her first spouse, Sichaeus, with her tears Mingled his own in mutual love and true. Aeneas, none the less, her guiltless woe With anguish knew, watched with dimmed eyes her way, And pitied from afar the fallen Queen.

337–366Then, his strength all spent, spake to him Hector of the flashing helm: I implore thee by thy life and knees and parents, suffer me not to be devoured of dogs by the ships of the Achaeans;nay, take thou store of bronze and gold, gifts that my fathec and queenly mother shall give thee, but my bodv give thou back to my home, that the Trojans and the Trojans' wives may give me my due meed of fire in my death. Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows spake unto him Achilhes swift of foot: Implore me not, dog, by knees or parents. Would that in any wise wrath and fury might bid me carve thy flesh and myself eat it raw, because of what thou hast wrought, as surely as there lives no man that shall ward off the dogs from thy head; nay, not though they should bring hither and weigh out ransom ten-fold, aye, twenty-fold,and should promise yet more; nay, not though Priam, son of Dardanus, should bid pay thy weight in gold; not even so shall thy queenly mother lay thee on a bier and make lament for thee, the son herself did bear, but dogs and birds shall devour thee utterly. Then even in dying spake unto him Hector of the flashing helm: Verily I know thee well, and forbode what shall be, neither was it to be that I should persuade thee; of a truth the heart in thy breast is of iron. Bethink thee now lest haply I bring the wrath of the gods upon thee on the day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo shall slay thee,valorous though thou art, at the Scaean gate. Even as he thus spake the end of death enfolded him and his soul fleeting from his limbs was gone to Hades, bewailing her fate, leaving manliness and youth. And to him even in his death spake goodly Achilles: Lie thou dead; my fate will I accept whenso Zeus willeth to bring it to pass and the other immortal gods.

919–958Above his faltering terror gleams in air Aeneas' fatal spear; whose eye perceived the moment of success, and all whose strength struck forth: the vast and ponderous rock outflung from engines which make breach in sieged walls not louder roars nor breaks in thunder-sound more terrible; like some black whirlwind flew the death-delivering spear, and, rending wide the corselet's edges and the heavy rim of the last circles of the seven-fold shield, pierced, hissing, through the thigh. Huge Turnus sinks o'erwhelmed upon the ground with doubling knee. Up spring the Rutules, groaning; the whole hill roars answering round them, and from far and wide the lofty groves give back an echoing cry. Lowly, with suppliant eyes, and holding forth his hand in prayer: “I have my meed,” he cried, “Nor ask for mercy. Use what Fate has given! But if a father's grief upon thy heart have power at all,—for Sire Anchises once to thee was dear,—I pray thee to show grace to Daunus in his desolate old age; and me, or, if thou wilt, my lifeless clay, to him and his restore. For, lo, thou art my conqueror! Ausonia's eyes have seen me suppliant, me fallen. Thou hast made Lavinia thy bride. Why further urge our enmity?”With swift and dreadful arms Aeneas o'er him stood, with rolling eyes, but his bare sword restraining; for such words moved on him more and more: when suddenly, over the mighty shoulder slung, he saw that fatal baldric studded with bright gold which youthful Pallas wore, what time he fell vanquished by Turnus' stroke, whose shoulders now carried such trophy of a foeman slain. Aeneas' eyes took sure and slow survey of spoils that were the proof and memory of cruel sorrow; then with kindling rage and terrifying look, he cried, “Wouldst thou, clad in a prize stripped off my chosen friend, escape this hand? In this thy mortal wound 't is Pallas has a victim; Pallas takes the lawful forfeit of thy guilty blood!” He said, and buried deep his furious blade in the opposer's heart. The failing limbs sank cold and helpless; and the vital breath with moan of wrath to darkness fled away.

120–124There no man ventured to vie with him in counsel, since goodly Odysseus far excelled in all manner of wiles,—thy father, if indeed thou art his son. Amazement holds me as I look on thee, for verily thy speech is like his; nor would one think

125–129that a younger man would speak so like him. Now all the time that we were there goodly Odysseus and I never spoke at variance either in the assembly or in the council, but being of one mind advised the Argives with wisdom and shrewd counsel how all might be for the best.

130–134But when we had sacked the lofty city of Priam, and had gone away in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, then, even then, Zeus planned in his heart a woeful return for the Argives, for in no wise prudent or just were all. Wherefore many of them met an evil fate

135–139through the fell wrath of the flashing-eyed goddess, the daughter of the mighty sire, for she caused strife between the two sons of Atreus. Now these two called to an assembly all the Achaeans, recklessly and in no due order, at set of sun—and they came heavy with wine, the sons of the Achaeans,—

140–144and they spoke their word, and told wherefore they had gathered the host together. Then in truth Menelaus bade all the Achaeans think of their return over the broad back of the sea, but in no wise did he please Agamemnon, for he was fain to hold back the host and to offer holy hecatombs,

145–149that he might appease the dread wrath of Athena,—fool! nor knew he this, that with her was to be no hearkening; for the mind of the gods that are forever is not quickly turned. So these two stood bandying harsh words; but the well-greaved Achaeans sprang up

475–479cutting off a portion of the chine of a white-tusked boar, whereof yet more was left, and there was rich fat on either side: “Herald, take and give this portion to Demodocus, that he may eat, and I will greet him, despite my grief. For among all men that are upon the earth minstrels

480–484win honor and reverence, for that the Muse has taught them the paths of song, and loves the tribe of minstrels.” So he spoke, and the herald bore the portion and placed it in the hands of the lord Demodocus, and he took it and was glad at heart. So they put forth their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them.

485–489But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then to Demodocus said Odysseus of many wiles: “Demodocus, verily above all mortal men do I praise thee, whether it was the Muse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught thee, or Apollo; for well and truly dost thou sing of the fate of the Achaeans,

490–494all that they wrought and suffered, and all the toils they endured, as though haply thou hadst thyself been present, or hadst heard the tale from another. But come now, change thy theme, and sing of the building of the horse of wood, which Epeius made with Athena's help, the horse which once Odysseus led up into the citadel as a thing of guile,

495–499when he had filled it with the men who sacked Ilios. If thou dost indeed tell me this tale aright, I will declare to all mankind that the god has of a ready heart granted thee the gift of divine song.” So he spoke, and the minstrel, moved by the god, began, and let his song be heard,

500–504taking up the tale where the Argives had embarked on their benched ships and were sailing away, after casting fire on their huts, while those others led by glorious Odysseus were now sitting in the place of assembly of the Trojans, hidden in the horse; for the Trojans had themselves dragged it to the citadel.

505–509So there it stood, while the people talked long as they sat about it, and could form no resolve. Nay, in three ways did counsel find favour in their minds: either to cleave the hollow timber with the pitiless bronze, or to drag it to the height and cast it down the rocks, or to let it stand as a great offering to propitiate the gods,

510–514even as in the end it was to be brought to pass; for it was their fate to perish when their city should enclose the great horse of wood, wherein were sitting all the best of the Argives, bearing to the Trojans death and fate. And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans

515–519poured forth from the horse and, leaving their hollow ambush, sacked the city. Of the others he sang how in divers ways they wasted the lofty city, but of Odysseus, how he went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus together with godlike Menelaus. There it was, he said, that Odysseus braved the most terrible fight

520–524and in the end conquered by the aid of great-hearted Athena. This song the famous minstrel sang. But the heart of Odysseus was melted and tears wet his cheeks beneath his eyelids. And as a woman wails and flings herself about her dear husband, who has fallen in front of his city and his people,

525–529seeking toward off from his city and his children the pitiless day; and as she beholds him dying and gasping for breath, she clings to him and shrieks aloud, while the foe behind her smite her back and shoulders with their spears, and lead her away to captivity to bear toil and woe,

530–534while with most pitiful grief her cheeks are wasted: even so did Odysseus let fall pitiful tears from beneath his brows. Now from all the rest he concealed the tears that he shed, but Alcinous alone marked him and took heed,

I am a maiden of bronze and am set upon the tomb of Midas. While the waters flow and tall trees flourish, and the sun rises and shines and the bright moon also; while rivers run and the sea breaks on the shore, ever remaining on this mournful tomb, I tell the passer-by that Midas here lies buried.

Potters, if you will give me a reward, I will sing for you. Come, then, Athena, with hand upraised over the kiln. Let the pots and all the dishes turn out well and be well fired: let them fetch good prices and be sold in plenty in the market, and plenty in the streets. Grant that the potters may get great gain and grant me so to sing to them. But if you turn shameless and make false promises, then I call together the destroyers of kilns, Shatter and Smash and Charr and Crash and Crudebake who can work this craft much mischief. Come all of you and sack the kiln-yard and the buildings: let the whole kiln be shaken up to the potter’s loud lament. As a horse’s jaw grinds, so let the kiln grind to powder all the pots inside. And you, too, daughter of the Sun, Circe the witch, come and cast cruel spells; hurt both these men and their handiwork. Let Chiron also come and bring many Centaurs— all that escaped the hands of Heracles and all that were destroyed: let them make sad havoc of the pots and overthrow the kiln, and let the potters see the mischief and be grieved; but I will gloat as I behold their luckless craft. And if anyone of them stoops to peer in, let all his face be burned up, that all men may learn to deal honestly.

350–400Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles addressed him: Son of Atreus, what a word hath escaped the barrier of thy teeth! How sayest thou that we are slack in battle, whenso we Achaeans rouse keen war against the horse-taming Trojans? Thou shalt see, if so be thou wilt and if thou carest aught therefor, the father of Telemachus mingling with the foremost fightersof the horse-taming Trojans. This that thou sayest is as empty wind. Then lord Agamemnon spake to him with a smile, when he knew that he was wroth, and took back his words: Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles, neither do I chide thee overmuch nor urge thee on,for I know that the heart in thy breast knoweth kindly thoughts, seeing thou art minded even as I am. Nay, come, these things will we make good hereafter, if any harsh word hath been spoken now; and may the gods make all to come to naught. So saying he left them there and went to others.Then found he the son of Tydeus, Diomedes high of heart, as he stood in his jointed car; and by his side stood Sthenelus, son of Capaneus. At sight of him too lord Agamemnon chid him, and spake and addressed him with winged words: Ah me, thou son of wise-hearted Tydeus, tamer of horses, why cowerest thou, why gazest thou at the dykes of battle? Tydeus of a surety was not wont thus to cower, but far in advance of his comrades to fight against the foe, as they tell who saw him amid the toil of war; for I nevermet him, neither saw him; but men say that he was pre-eminent over all. Once verily he came to Mycenae, not as an enemy, but as a guest, in company with godlike Polyneices, to gather a host; for in that day they were waging a war against the sacred walls of Thebe, and earnestly did they make prayer that glorious allies be granted them;and the men of Mycenae were minded to grant them, and were assenting even as they bade, but Zeus turned their minds by showing tokens of ill. So when they had departed and were with deep reeds, that coucheth in the grass, there did the Achaeans send forth Tydeus on an embassage.And he went his way, and found the many sons of Cadmus feasting in the house of mighty Eteocles. Then, for all he was a stranger, the horseman Tydeus feared not, all alone though he was amid the many Cadmeians, but challenged them all to feats of strength and in every one vanquished he themfull easily; such a helper was Athene to him. But the Cadmeians, goaders of horses, waxed wroth, and as he journeyed back, brought and set a strong ambush, even fifty youths, and two there were as leaders, Maeon, son of Haemon, peer of the immortals,and Autophonus' son, Polyphontes, staunch in fight. But Tydeus even upon these let loose a shameful fate, and slew them all; one only man suffered he to return home; Maeon he sent forth in obedience to the portents of the gods. Such a man was Tydeus of Aetolia; howbeit the sonthat he begat is worse than he in battle, though in the place of gathering he is better.

401–445So he spake, and stalwart Diomedes answered him not a word, but had respect to the reproof of the king revered. But the son of glorious Capaneus made answer. Son of Atreus, utter not lies, when thou knowest how to speak truly.We declare ourselves to be better men by far than our fathers: we took the seat of Thebe of the seven gates, when we twain had gathered a lesser host against a stronger wall, putting our trust in the portents of the gods and in the aid of Zeus; whereas they perished through their own blind folly.Wherefore I bid thee put not our fathers in like honour with us. Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows stalwart Diomedes addressed him: Good friend, abide in silence, and hearken to my word. I count it not shame that Agamemnon, shepherd of the host, should urge on to battle the well-greaved Achaeans;for upon him will great glory attend if the Achaeans shall slay the Trojans and take sacred Ilios, and upon him likewise will fall great sorrow, if the Achaeans be slain. Nay, come, let us twain also bethink us of furious valour. He spake, and leapt in his armour from his chariot to the ground,and terribly rang the bronze upon the breast of the prince as he moved; thereat might terror have seized even one that was steadfast of heart. As when on a sounding beach the swell of the sea beats, wave after wave, before the driving of the West Wind; out on the deep at the first is it gathered in a crest, but thereafteris broken upon the land and thundereth aloud, and round about the headlands it swelleth and reareth its head, and speweth forth the salt brine: even in such wise on that day did the battalions of the Danaans move, rank after rank, without cease, into battle; and each captain gave charge to his own men, and the rest marched on in silence; thou wouldst not have deemedthat they that followed in such multitudes had any voice in their breasts, all silent as they were through fear of their commanders; and on every man flashed the inlaid armour wherewith they went clad. But for the Trojans, even as ewes stand in throngs past counting in the court of a man of much substance to be milked of their white milk,and bleat without ceasing as they near the voices of their lambs: even so arose the clamour of the Trojans throughout the wide host; for they had not all like speech or one language, but their tongues were mingled, and they were a folk summoned from many lands. These were urged on by Ares, and the Greeks by flashing-eyed Athene,and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midstas she fared through the throng, making the groanings of men to wax.

1–39A general silence fell; and all gave ear, while, from his lofty station at the feast, Father Aeneas with these words began :— A grief unspeakable thy gracious word, o sovereign lady, bids my heart live o'er: how Asia's glory and afflicted throne the Greek flung down; which woeful scene I saw, and bore great part in each event I tell. But O! in telling, what Dolopian churl, or Myrmidon, or gory follower of grim Ulysses could the tears restrain? 'T is evening; lo! the dews of night begin to fall from heaven, and yonder sinking stars invite to slumber. But if thy heart yearn to hear in brief of all our evil days and Troy's last throes, although the memory makes my soul shudder and recoil in pain, I will essay it. Wearied of the war, and by ill-fortune crushed, year after year, the kings of Greece, by Pallas' skill divine, build a huge horse, a thing of mountain size, with timbered ribs of fir. They falsely say it has been vowed to Heaven for safe return, and spread this lie abroad. Then they conceal choice bands of warriors in the deep, dark side, and fill the caverns of that monstrous womb with arms and soldiery. In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an island widely famed and opulent, ere Priam's kingdom fell, but a poor haven now, with anchorage not half secure; 't was thitherward they sailed, and lurked unseen by that abandoned shore. We deemed them launched away and sailing far, bound homeward for Mycenae. Teucria then threw off her grief inveterate; all her gates swung wide; exultant went we forth, and saw the Dorian camp untenanted, the siege abandoned, and the shore without a keel. “Here!” cried we, “the Dolopian pitched; the host of fierce Achilles here; here lay the fleet; and here the battling lines to conflict ran.” Others, all wonder, scan the gift of doom by virgin Pallas given, and view with awe that horse which loomed so large. Thymoetes then bade lead it through the gates, and set on high within our citadel,—or traitor he, or tool of fate in Troy's predestined fall. But Capys, as did all of wiser heart, bade hurl into the sea the false Greek gift, or underneath it thrust a kindling flame or pierce the hollow ambush of its womb with probing spear. Yet did the multitude veer round from voice to voice and doubt of all.

10–14bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil. And there lay the back-bent bow and the quiver that held the arrows, and many arrows were in it, fraught with groanings—gifts which a friend of Odysseus had given him when he met him once in Lacedaemon, even Iphitus, son of Eurytus, a man like unto the immortals.

15–19They two had met one another in Messene in the house of wise Ortilochus. Odysseus verily had come to collect a debt which the whole people owed him, for the men of Messene had lifted from Ithaca in their benched ships three hundred sheep and the shepherds with them.

20–24It was on an embassy in quest of these that Odysseus had come a far journey, while he was but a youth; for his father and the other elders had sent him forth. And Iphitus, on his part, had come in search of twelve brood mares, which he had lost, with sturdy mules at the teat; but to him thereafter did they bring death and doom,

25–29when he came to the stout-hearted son of Zeus, the man Heracles, who well knew deeds of daring; for Heracles slew him, his guest though he was, in his own house, ruthlessly, and had regard neither for the wrath of the gods nor for the table which he had set before him, but slew the man thereafter,

30–34and himself kept the stout-hoofed mares in his halls. It was while asking for these that Iphitus met Odysseus, and gave him the bow, which of old great Eurytus had been wont to bear, and had left at his death to his son in his lofty house. And to Iphitus Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a mighty spear,

35–39as the beginning of loving friendship; yet they never knew one another at the table, for ere that might be the son of Zeus had slain Iphitus, son of Eurytus, a man like unto the immortals, who gave Odysseus the bow. This bow goodly Odysseus, when going forth to war, would never

40–44take with him on the black ships, but it lay in his halls at home as a memorial of a dear friend, and he carried it in his own land. Now when the fair lady had come to the store-room, and had stepped upon the threshold of oak, which of old the carpenter had skilfully planed and made straight to the line—