Chapter 47

The games all closed, the people went dispersed Each to his ship; they, mindful of repast, And to enjoy repose; but other thoughts Achilles’ mind employ’d: he still deplored With tears his loved Patroclus, nor the force5 Felt of all-conquering sleep, but turn’d and turn’d Restless from side to side, mourning the loss Of such a friend, so manly, and so brave. Their fellowship in toil; their hardships oft Sustain’d in fight laborious, or o’ercome10 With difficulty on the perilous deep— Remembrance busily retracing themes Like these, drew down his cheeks continual tears. Now on his side he lay, now lay supine, Now prone, then starting from his couch he roam’d15 Forlorn the beach, nor did the rising morn On seas and shores escape his watchful eye, But joining to his chariot his swift steeds, He fasten’d Hector to be dragg’d behind. Around the tomb of Menœtiades20 Him thrice he dragg’d; then rested in his tent, Leaving him at his length stretch’d in the dust. Meantime Apollo with compassion touch’d Even of the lifeless Hector, from all taint Saved him, and with the golden ægis broad25 Covering, preserved him, although dragg’d, untorn.

While he, indulging thus his wrath, disgraced Brave Hector, the immortals at that sight With pity moved, exhorted Mercury The watchful Argicide, to steal him thence.30 That counsel pleased the rest, but neither pleased Juno, nor Neptune, nor the blue-eyed maid. They still, as at the first, held fast their hate Of sacred Troy, detested Priam still, And still his people, mindful of the crime35 Of Paris, who when to his rural hut They came, those Goddesses affronting,[1] praise And admiration gave to her alone Who with vile lusts his preference repaid. But when the twelfth ensuing morn arose,40 Apollo, then, the immortals thus address’d. Ye Gods, your dealings now injurious seem And cruel. Was not Hector wont to burn Thighs of fat goats and bullocks at your shrines? Whom now, though dead, ye cannot yet endure45 To rescue, that Andromache once more Might view him, his own mother, his own son, His father and the people, who would soon Yield him his just demand, a funeral fire. But, oh ye Gods! your pleasure is alone50 To please Achilles, that pernicious chief, Who neither right regards, nor owns a mind That can relent, but as the lion, urged By his own dauntless heart and savage force, Invades without remorse the rights of man,55 That he may banquet on his herds and flocks, So Peleus’ son all pity from his breast Hath driven, and shame, man’s blessing or his curse.[2] For whosoever hath a loss sustain’d Still dearer, whether of his brother born60 From the same womb, or even of his son, When he hath once bewail’d him, weeps no more, For fate itself gives man a patient mind. Yet Peleus’ son, not so contented, slays Illustrious Hector first, then drags his corse65 In cruel triumph at his chariot-wheels Around Patroclus’ tomb; but neither well He acts, nor honorably to himself, Who may, perchance, brave though he be, incur Our anger, while to gratify revenge70 He pours dishonor thus on senseless clay. To whom, incensed, Juno white-arm’d replied. And be it so; stand fast this word of thine, God of the silver bow! if ye account Only such honor to Achilles due75 As Hector claims; but Hector was by birth Mere man, and suckled at a woman’s breast. Not such Achilles; him a Goddess bore, Whom I myself nourish’d, and on my lap Fondled, and in due time to Peleus gave80 In marriage, to a chief beloved in heaven Peculiarly; ye were yourselves, ye Gods! Partakers of the nuptial feast, and thou Wast present also with thine harp in hand, Thou comrade of the vile! thou faithless ever!85 Then answer thus cloud-gatherer Jove return’d. Juno, forbear. Indulge not always wrath Against the Gods. They shall not share alike, And in the same proportion our regards. Yet even Hector was the man in Troy90 Most favor’d by the Gods, and him no less I also loved, for punctual were his gifts To us; mine altar never miss’d from him Libation, or the steam of sacrifice, The meed allotted to us from of old.95 But steal him not, since by Achilles’ eye Unseen ye cannot, who both day and night Watches[3] him, as a mother tends her son. But call ye Thetis hither, I would give The Goddess counsel, that, at Priam’s hands100 Accepting gifts, Achilles loose the dead. He ceased. Then Iris tempest-wing’d arose. Samos between, and Imbrus rock-begirt, She plunged into the gloomy flood; loud groan’d The briny pool, while sudden down she rush’d,105 As sinks the bull’s[4] horn with its leaden weight, Death bearing to the raveners of the deep. Within her vaulted cave Thetis she found By every nymph of Ocean round about Encompass’d; she, amid them all, the fate110 Wept of her noble son ordain’d to death At fertile Troy, from Phthia far remote. Then, Iris, drawing near, her thus address’d. Arise, O Thetis! Jove, the author dread Of everlasting counsels, calls for thee.115 To whom the Goddess of the silver feet. Why calls the mighty Thunderer me? I fear, Oppress’d with countless sorrows as I am, To mingle with the Gods. Yet I obey— No word of his can prove an empty sound.120 So saying, the Goddess took her sable veil (Eye ne’er beheld a darker) and began Her progress, by the storm-wing’d Iris led. On either hand the billows open’d wide A pass before them; they, ascending soon125 The shore, updarted swift into the skies. They found loud-voiced Saturnian Jove around Environ’d by the ever-blessed Gods Convened in full assembly; she beside Her Father Jove (Pallas retiring) sat.130 Then, Juno, with consolatory speech, Presented to her hand a golden cup, Of which she drank, then gave it back again, And thus the sire of Gods and men began. Goddess of ocean, Thetis! thou hast sought135 Olympus, bearing in thy bosom grief Never to be assuaged, as well I know. Yet shalt thou learn, afflicted as thou art, Why I have summon’d thee. Nine days the Gods, Concerning Hector’s body and thy own140 Brave city-spoiler son, have held dispute, And some have urged ofttimes the Argicide Keen-sighted Mercury, to steal the dead. But I forbade it for Achilles’ sake, Whom I exalt, the better to insure145 Thy reverence and thy friendship evermore. Haste, therefore, seek thy son, and tell him thus, The Gods resent it, say (but most of all Myself am angry) that he still detains Amid his fleet, through fury of revenge,150 Unransom’d Hector; so shall he, at length, Through fear of me, perchance, release the slain. Myself to generous Priam will, the while, Send Iris, who shall bid him to the fleet Of Greece, such ransom bearing as may soothe155 Achilles, for redemption of his son. So spake the God, nor Thetis not complied. Descending swift from the Olympian heights She reach’d Achilles’ tent. Him there she found Groaning disconsolate, while others ran160 To and fro, occupied around a sheep New-slaughter’d, large, and of exuberant fleece. She, sitting close beside him, softly strok’d His cheek, and thus, affectionate, began. How long, my son! sorrowing and mourning here,165 Wilt thou consume thy soul, nor give one thought Either to food or love? Yet love is good, And woman grief’s best cure; for length of days Is not thy doom, but, even now, thy death And ruthless destiny are on the wing.170 Mark me,—I come a lieger sent from Jove. The Gods, he saith, resent it, but himself More deeply than the rest, that thou detain’st Amid thy fleet, through fury of revenge, Unransom’d Hector. Be advised, accept175 Ransom, and to his friends resign the dead. To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift. Come then the ransomer, and take him hence; If Jove himself command it,—be it so. So they, among the ships, conferring sat180 On various themes, the Goddess and her son; Meantime Saturnian Jove commanded down His swift ambassadress to sacred Troy. Hence, rapid Iris! leave the Olympian heights. And, finding noble Priam, bid him haste185 Into Achaia’s fleet, bearing such gifts As may assuage Achilles, and prevail To liberate the body of his son. Alone, he must; no Trojan of them all May company the senior thither, save190 An ancient herald to direct his mules And his wheel’d litter, and to bring the dead Back into Ilium, whom Achilles slew. Let neither fear of death nor other fear Trouble him aught, so safe a guard and sure195 We give him; Mercury shall be his guide Into Achilles’ presence in his tent. Nor will himself Achilles slay him there, Or even permit his death, but will forbid All violence; for he is not unwise200 Nor heedless, no—nor wilful to offend, But will his suppliant with much grace receive.[5]

He ceased; then Iris tempest-wing’d arose, Jove’s messenger, and, at the gates arrived Of Priam, wo and wailing found within.205 Around their father, in the hall, his sons Their robes with tears water’d, while them amidst The hoary King sat mantled, muffled close, And on his venerable head and neck Much dust was spread, which, rolling on the earth,210 He had shower’d on them with unsparing hands. The palace echoed to his daughters’ cries, And to the cries of matrons calling fresh Into remembrance many a valiant chief Now stretch’d in dust, by Argive hands destroy’d.215 The messenger of Jove at Priam’s side Standing, with whisper’d accents low his ear Saluted, but he trembled at the sound. Courage, Dardanian Priam! fear thou nought; To thee no prophetess of ill, I come;220 But with kind purpose: Jove’s ambassadress Am I, who though remote, yet entertains Much pity, and much tender care for thee. Olympian Jove commands thee to redeem The noble Hector, with an offering large225 Of gifts that may Achilles’ wrath appease. Alone, thou must; no Trojan of them all Hath leave to attend thy journey thither, save An ancient herald to direct thy mules And thy wheel’d litter, and to bring the dead230 Back into Ilium, whom Achilles slew. Let neither fear of death nor other fear Trouble thee aught, so safe a guard and sure He gives thee; Mercury shall be thy guide Even to Achilles’ presence in his tent.235 Nor will himself Achilles slay thee there, Or even permit thy death, but will forbid All violence; for he is not unwise Nor heedless, no—nor wilful to offend, But will his suppliant with much grace receive.240

So spake the swift ambassadress, and went. Then, calling to his sons, he bade them bring His litter forth, and bind the coffer on, While to his fragrant chamber he repair’d Himself, with cedar lined and lofty-roof’d,245 A treasury of wonders into which The Queen he summon’d, whom he thus bespake. Hecuba! the ambassadress of Jove Hath come, who bids me to the Grecian fleet, Bearing such presents thither as may soothe250 Achilles, for redemption of my son. But say, what seems this enterprise to thee? Myself am much inclined to it, I feel My courage prompting me amain toward The fleet, and into the Achaian camp.255 Then wept the Queen aloud, and thus replied. Ah! whither is thy wisdom fled, for which Both strangers once, and Trojans honor’d _thee_? How canst thou wish to penetrate alone The Grecian fleet, and to appear before260 His face, by whom so many valiant sons Of thine have fallen? Thou hast an iron heart! For should that savage man and faithless once Seize and discover thee, no pity expect Or reverence at his hands. Come—let us weep265 Together, here sequester’d; for the thread Spun for him by his destiny severe When he was born, ordain’d our son remote From us his parents to be food for hounds In that chief’s tent. Oh! clinging to his side,270 How I could tear him with my teeth! His deeds, Disgraceful to my son, then should not want Retaliation; for he slew not him Skulking, but standing boldly for the wives, The daughters fair, and citizens of Troy,275 Guiltless of flight,[6] and of the wish to fly.

Whom godlike Priam answer’d, ancient King. Impede me not who willing am to go, Nor be, thyself, a bird of ominous note To terrify me under my own roof,280 For thou shalt not prevail. Had mortal man Enjoin’d me this attempt, prophet, or priest, Or soothsayer, I had pronounced him false And fear’d it but the more. But, since I saw The Goddess with these eyes, and heard, myself,285 The voice divine, I go; that word shall stand; And, if my doom be in the fleet of Greece To perish, be it so; Achilles’ arm Shall give me speedy death, and I shall die Folding my son, and satisfied with tears.290 So saying, he open’d wide the elegant lids Of numerous chests, whence mantles twelve he took Of texture beautiful; twelve single cloaks; As many carpets, with as many robes, To which he added vests, an equal store.295 He also took ten talents forth of gold, All weigh’d, two splendid tripods, caldrons four, And after these a cup of matchless worth Given to him when ambassador in Thrace; A noble gift, which yet the hoary King300 Spared not, such fervor of desire he felt To loose his son. Then from his portico, With angry taunts he drove the gather’d crowds. Away! away! ye dregs of earth, away! Ye shame of human kind! Have ye no griefs305 At home, that ye come hither troubling _me_? Deem ye it little that Saturnian Jove Afflicts me thus, and of my very best, Best boy deprives me? Ah! ye shall be taught Yourselves that loss, far easier to be slain310 By the Achaians now, since he is dead. But I, ere yet the city I behold Taken and pillaged, with these aged eyes, Shall find safe hiding in the shades below.

He said, and chased them with his staff; they left315 In haste the doors, by the old King expell’d. Then, chiding them aloud, his sons he call’d, Helenus, Paris, noble Agathon, Pammon, Antiphonus, and bold in fight Polites, Dios of illustrious fame,320 Hippothoüs and Deiphobus—all nine He call’d, thus issuing, angry, his commands. Quick! quick! ye slothful in your father’s cause, Ye worthless brood! would that in Hector’s stead Ye all had perish’d in the fleet of Greece!325 Oh altogether wretched! in all Troy No man had sons to boast valiant as mine, And I have lost them all. Mestor is gone The godlike, Troilus the steed-renown’d, And Hector, who with other men compared330 Seem’d a Divinity, whom none had deem’d From mortal man derived, but from a God. These Mars hath taken, and hath left me none But scandals of my house, void of all truth, Dancers, exact step-measurers,[7] a band335 Of public robbers, thieves of kids and lambs. Will ye not bring my litter to the gate This moment, and with all this package quick Charge it, that we may hence without delay? He said, and by his chiding awed, his sons340 Drew forth the royal litter, neat, new-built, And following swift the draught, on which they bound The coffer; next, they lower’d from the wall The sculptured boxen yoke with its two rings;[8] And with the yoke its furniture, in length345 Nine cubits; this to the extremest end Adjusting of the pole, they cast the ring Over the ring-bolt; then, thrice through the yoke They drew the brace on both sides, made it fast With even knots, and tuck’d[9] the dangling ends.350 Producing, next, the glorious ransom-price Of Hector’s body, on the litter’s floor They heap’d it all, then yoked the sturdy mules, A gift illustrious by the Mysians erst Conferr’d on Priam; to the chariot, last,355 They led forth Priam’s steeds, which the old King (In person serving them) with freshest corn Constant supplied; meantime, himself within The palace, and his herald, were employ’d Girding[10] themselves, to go; wise each and good.360 And now came mournful Hecuba, with wine Delicious charged, which in a golden cup She brought, that not without libation due First made, they might depart. Before the steeds Her steps she stay’d, and Priam thus address’d.365 Take this, and to the Sire of all perform Libation, praying him a safe return From hostile hands, since thou art urged to seek The Grecian camp, though not by my desire. Pray also to Idæan Jove cloud-girt,370 Who oversees all Ilium, that he send His messenger or ere thou go, the bird His favorite most, surpassing all in strength, At thy right hand; him seeing, thou shalt tend With better hope toward the fleet of Greece.375 But should loud-thundering Jove his lieger swift Withhold, from me far be it to advise This journey, howsoe’er thou wish to go. To whom the godlike Priam thus replied. This exhortation will I not refuse,380 O Queen! for, lifting to the Gods his hands In prayer for their compassion, none can err. So saying, he bade the maiden o’er the rest, Chief in authority, pour on his hands Pure water, for the maiden at his side385 With ewer charged and laver, stood prepared. He laved his hands; then, taking from the Queen The goblet, in his middle area stood Pouring libation with his eyes upturn’d Heaven-ward devout, and thus his prayer preferr’d.390 Jove, great and glorious above all, who rulest, On Ida’s summit seated, all below! Grant me arrived within Achilles’ tent Kindness to meet and pity, and oh send Thy messenger or ere I go, the bird395 Thy favorite most, surpassing all in strength, At my right hand, which seeing, I shall tend With better hope toward the fleet of Greece. He ended, at whose prayer, incontinent, Jove sent his eagle, surest of all signs,400 The black-plumed bird voracious, Morphnos[11] named, And Percnos.[11] Wide as the well-guarded door Of some rich potentate his vans he spread On either side; they saw him on the right, Skimming the towers of Troy; glad they beheld405 That omen, and all felt their hearts consoled. Delay’d not then the hoary King, but quick Ascending to his seat, his coursers urged Through vestibule and sounding porch abroad. The four-wheel’d litter led, drawn by the mules410 Which sage Idæus managed, behind whom Went Priam, plying with the scourge his steeds Continual through the town, while all his friends, Following their sovereign with dejected hearts, Lamented him as going to his death.415 But when from Ilium’s gate into the plain They had descended, then the sons-in-law Of Priam, and his sons, to Troy return’d. Nor they, now traversing the plain, the note Escaped of Jove the Thunderer; he beheld420 Compassionate the venerable King, And thus his own son Mercury bespake. Mercury! (for above all others thou Delightest to associate with mankind Familiar, whom thou wilt winning with ease425 To converse free) go thou, and so conduct Priam into the Grecian camp, that none Of all the numerous Danaï may see Or mark him, till he reach Achilles’ tent. He spake, nor the ambassador of heaven430 The Argicide delay’d, but bound in haste His undecaying sandals to his feet, Golden, divine, which waft him o’er the floods Swift as the wind, and o’er the boundless earth. He took his rod with which he charms to sleep435 All eyes, and theirs who sleep opens again. Arm’d with that rod, forth flew the Argicide. At Ilium and the Hellespontic shores Arriving sudden, a king’s son he seem’d, Now clothing first his ruddy cheek with down,440 Which is youth’s loveliest season; so disguised, His progress he began. They now (the tomb Magnificent of Ilus past) beside The river stay’d the mules and steeds to drink, For twilight dimm’d the fields. Idæus first445 Perceived him near, and Priam thus bespake. Think, son of Dardanus! for we have need Of our best thought. I see a warrior. Now, Now we shall die; I know it. Turn we quick Our steeds to flight; or let us clasp his knees450 And his compassion suppliant essay. Terror and consternation at that sound The mind of Priam felt; erect the hair Bristled his limbs, and with amaze he stood Motionless. But the God, meantime, approach’d,455 And, seizing ancient Priam’s hand, inquired. Whither, my father! in the dewy night Drivest thou thy mules and steeds, while others sleep? And fear’st thou not the fiery host of Greece, Thy foes implacable, so nigh at hand?460 Of whom should any, through the shadow dun Of flitting night, discern thee bearing forth So rich a charge, then what wouldst thou expect? Thou art not young thyself, nor with the aid Of this thine ancient servant, strong enough465 Force to repulse, should any threaten force. But injury fear none or harm from me; I rather much from harm by other hands Would save thee, thou resemblest so my sire. Whom answer’d godlike Priam, hoar with age.470 My son! well spoken. Thou hast judged aright. Yet even me some Deity protects Thus far; to whom I owe it that I meet So seasonably one like thee, in form So admirable, and in mind discreet475 As thou art beautiful. Blest parents, thine! To whom the messenger of heaven again, The Argicide. Oh ancient and revered! Thou hast well spoken all. Yet this declare, And with sincerity; bear’st thou away480 Into some foreign country, for the sake Of safer custody, this precious charge? Or, urged by fear, forsake ye all alike Troy’s sacred towers! since he whom thou hast lost, Thy noble son, was of excelling worth485 In arms, and nought inferior to the Greeks. Then thus the godlike Priam, hoary King. But tell me first who _Thou_ art, and from whom Descended, loveliest youth! who hast the fate So well of my unhappy son rehearsed?490 To whom the herald Mercury replied. Thy questions, venerable sire! proposed Concerning noble Hector, are design’d To prove me. Him, not seldom, with these eyes In man-ennobling fight I have beheld495 Most active; saw him when he thinn’d the Greeks With his sharp spear, and drove them to the ships. Amazed we stood to notice him; for us, Incensed against the ruler of our host, Achilles suffer’d not to share the fight.500 I serve Achilles; the same gallant bark Brought us, and of the Myrmidons am I, Son of Polyctor; wealthy is my sire, And such in years as thou; six sons he hath, Beside myself the seventh, and (the lots cast505 Among us all) mine sent me to the wars. That I have left the ships, seeking the plain, The cause is this; the Greeks, at break of day, Will compass, arm’d, the city, for they loathe To sit inactive, neither can the chiefs510 Restrain the hot impatience of the host. Then godlike Priam answer thus return’d. If of the band thou be of Peleus’ son, Achilles, tell me undisguised the truth. My son, subsists he still, or hath thy chief515 Limb after limb given him to his dogs? Him answer’d then the herald of the skies. Oh venerable sir! him neither dogs Have eaten yet, nor fowls, but at the ships His body, and within Achilles’ tent520 Neglected lies. Twelve days he so hath lain; Yet neither worm which diets on the brave In battle fallen, hath eaten him, or taint Invaded. He around Patroclus’ tomb Drags him indeed pitiless, oft as day525 Reddens the east, yet safe from blemish still His corse remains. Thou wouldst, thyself, admire Seeing how fresh the dew-drops, as he lies, Rest on him, and his blood is cleansed away That not a stain is left. Even his wounds530 (For many a wound they gave him) all are closed, Such care the blessed Gods have of thy son, Dead as he is, whom living much they loved. So he; then, glad, the ancient King replied. Good is it, oh my son! to yield the Gods535 Their just demands. My boy, while yet he lived, Lived not unmindful of the worship due To the Olympian powers, who, therefore, him Remember, even in the bands of death. Come then—this beauteous cup take at my hand—540 Be thou my guard, and, if the Gods permit, My guide, till to Achilles’ tent I come. Whom answer’d then the messenger of heaven. Sir! thou perceivest me young, and art disposed To try my virtue; but it shall not fail.545 Thou bidd’st me at thine hand a gift accept, Whereof Achilles knows not; but I fear Achilles, and on no account should dare Defraud him, lest some evil find me next. But thee I would with pleasure hence conduct550 Even to glorious Argos, over sea Or over land, nor any, through contempt Of such a guard, should dare to do thee wrong. So Mercury, and to the chariot seat Upspringing, seized at once the lash and reins,555 And with fresh vigor mules and steeds inspired. Arriving at the foss and towers, they found The guard preparing now their evening cheer, All whom the Argicide with sudden sleep Oppress’d, then oped the gates, thrust back the bars,560 And introduced, with all his litter-load Of costly gifts, the venerable King. But when they reached the tent for Peleus’ son Raised by the Myrmidons (with trunks of pine They built it, lopping smooth the boughs away,555 Then spread with shaggy mowings of the mead Its lofty roof, and with a spacious court Surrounded it, all fenced with driven stakes; One bar alone of pine secured the door, Which ask’d three Grecians with united force570 To thrust it to its place, and three again To thrust it back, although Achilles oft Would heave it to the door himself alone;) Then Hermes, benefactor of mankind, That bar displacing for the King of Troy,575 Gave entrance to himself and to his gifts For Peleus’ son design’d, and from the seat Alighting, thus his speech to Priam turn’d. Oh ancient Priam! an immortal God Attends thee; I am Hermes, by command580 Of Jove my father thy appointed guide. But I return. I will not, entering here, Stand in Achilles’ sight; immortal Powers May not so unreservedly indulge Creatures of mortal kind. But enter thou,585 Embrace his knees, and by his father both And by his Goddess mother sue to him, And by his son, that his whole heart may melt. So Hermes spake, and to the skies again Ascended. Then leap’d Priam to the ground,590 Leaving Idæus; he, the mules and steeds Watch’d, while the ancient King into the tent Proceeded of Achilles dear to Jove. Him there he found, and sitting found apart His fellow-warriors, of whom two alone595 Served at his side, Alcimus, branch of Mars And brave Automedon; he had himself Supp’d newly, and the board stood unremoved. Unseen of all huge Priam enter’d, stood Near to Achilles, clasp’d his knees, and kiss’d600 Those terrible and homicidal hands That had destroy’d so many of his sons. As when a fugitive for blood the house Of some chief enters in a foreign land, All gaze, astonish’d at the sudden guest,605 So gazed Achilles seeing Priam there, And so stood all astonish’d, each his eyes In silence fastening on his fellow’s face. But Priam kneel’d, and suppliant thus began. Think, oh Achilles, semblance of the Gods!610 On thy own father full of days like me, And trembling on the gloomy verge of life.[12] Some neighbor chief, it may be, even now Oppresses him, and there is none at hand, No friend to suocor him in his distress.615 Yet, doubtless, hearing that Achilles lives, He still rejoices, hoping, day by day, That one day he shall see the face again Of his own son from distant Troy return’d. But me no comfort cheers, whose bravest sons,620 So late the flower of Ilium, all are slain. When Greece came hither, I had fifty sons; Nineteen were children of one bed, the rest Born of my concubines. A numerous house! But fiery Mars hath thinn’d it. One I had,625 One, more than all my sons the strength of Troy, Whom standing for his country thou hast slain— Hector—his body to redeem I come Into Achaia’s fleet, bringing, myself, Ransom inestimable to thy tent.630 Reverence the Gods, Achilles! recollect Thy father; for his sake compassion show To me more pitiable still, who draw Home to my lips (humiliation yet Unseen on earth) his hand who slew my son.635 So saying, he waken’d in his soul regret Of his own sire; softly he placed his hand On Priam’s hand, and push’d him gently away. Remembrance melted both. Rolling before Achilles’ feet, Priam his son deplored640 Wide-slaughtering Hector, and Achilles wept By turns his father, and by turns his friend Patroclus; sounds of sorrow fill’d the tent. But when, at length satiate, Achilles felt His heart from grief, and all his frame relieved,645 Upstarting from his seat, with pity moved Of Priam’s silver locks and silver beard, He raised the ancient father by his hand, Whom in wing’d accents kind he thus bespake. Wretched indeed! ah what must thou have felt!650 How hast thou dared to seek alone the fleet Of the Achaians, and his face by whom So many of thy valiant sons have fallen? Thou hast a heart of iron, terror-proof. Come—sit beside me—let us, if we may,665 Great mourners both, bid sorrow sleep awhile. There is no profit of our sighs and tears; For thus, exempt from care themselves, the Gods Ordain man’s miserable race to mourn. Fast by the threshold of Jove’s courts are placed660 Two casks, one stored with evil, one with good, From which the God dispenses as he wills. For whom the glorious Thunderer mingles both, He leads a life checker’d with good and ill Alternate; but to whom he gives unmixt665 The bitter cup, he makes that man a curse, His name becomes a by-word of reproach, His strength is hunger-bitten, and he walks The blessed earth, unblest, go where he may. So was my father Peleus at his birth670 Nobly endow’d with plenty and with wealth Distinguish’d by the Gods past all mankind, Lord of the Myrmidons, and, though a man, Yet match’d from heaven with an immortal bride. But even him the Gods afflict, a son675 Refusing him, who might possess his throne Hereafter; for myself, his only heir, Pass as a dream, and while I live, instead Of solacing his age, here sit, before Your distant walls, the scourge of thee and thine.680 Thee also, ancient Priam, we have heard Reported, once possessor of such wealth As neither Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns, Nor eastern Phrygia, nor yet all the ports Of Hellespont, but thou didst pass them all685 In riches, and in number of thy sons. But since the Powers of heaven brought on thy land This fatal war, battle and deeds of death Always surround the city where thou reign’st. Cease, therefore, from unprofitable tears,690 Which, ere they raise thy son to life again Shall, doubtless, find fresh cause for which to flow. To whom the ancient King godlike replied. Hero, forbear. No seat is here for me, While Hector lies unburied in your camp.695 Loose him, and loose him now, that with these eyes I may behold my son; accept a price Magnificent, which may’st thou long enjoy, And, since my life was precious in thy sight, May’st thou revisit safe thy native shore!700 To whom Achilles, lowering, and in wrath.[13] Urge me no longer, at a time like this, With that harsh note; I am already inclin’d To loose him. Thetis, my own mother came Herself on that same errand, sent from Jove.705 Priam! I understand thee well. I know That, by some God conducted, thou hast reach’d Achaia’s fleet; for, without aid divine, No mortal even in his prime of youth, Had dared the attempt; guards vigilant as ours710 He should not easily elude, such gates, So massy, should not easily unbar. Thou, therefore, vex me not in my distress, Lest I abhor to see thee in my tent, And, borne beyond all limits, set at nought715 Thee, and thy prayer, and the command of Jove. He said; the old King trembled, and obey’d. Then sprang Pelides like a lion forth, Not sole, but with his two attendant friends Alcimus and Automedon the brave,720 For them (Patroclus slain) he honor’d most Of all the Myrmidons. They from the yoke Released both steeds and mules, then introduced And placed the herald of the hoary King. They lighten’d next the litter of its charge725 Inestimable, leaving yet behind Two mantles and a vest, that, not unveil’d, The body might be borne back into Troy. Then, calling forth his women, them he bade Lave and anoint the body, but apart,730 Lest haply Priam, noticing his son, Through stress of grief should give resentment scope, And irritate by some affront himself To slay him, in despite of Jove’s commands.[14] They, therefore, laving and anointing first735 The body, cover’d it with cloak and vest; Then, Peleus’ son disposed it on the bier, Lifting it from the ground, and his two friends Together heaved it to the royal wain. Achilles, last, groaning, his friend invoked.740

Patroclus! should the tidings reach thine ear, Although in Ades, that I have released The noble Hector at his father’s suit, Resent it not; no sordid gifts have paid His ransom-price, which thou shalt also share.745 So saying, Achilles to his tent return’d, And on the splendid couch whence he had risen Again reclined, opposite to the seat Of Priam, whom the hero thus bespake. Priam! at thy request thy son is loosed,750 And lying on his bier; at dawn of day Thou shalt both see him and convey him hence Thyself to Troy. But take we now repast; For even bright-hair’d Niobe her food Forgat not, though of children twelve bereft,755 Of daughters six, and of six blooming sons. Apollo these struck from his silver bow, And those shaft-arm’d Diana, both incensed That oft Latona’s children and her own Numbering, she scorn’d the Goddess who had borne760 Two only, while herself had twelve to boast. Vain boast! those two sufficed to slay them all. Nine days they welter’d in their blood, no man Was found to bury them, for Jove had changed To stone the people; but themselves, at last,765 The Powers of heaven entomb’d them on the tenth. Yet even she, once satisfied with tears, Remember’d food; and now the rocks among And pathless solitudes of Sipylus, The rumor’d cradle of the nymphs who dance770 On Acheloüs’ banks, although to stone Transform’d, she broods her heaven-inflicted woes. Come, then, my venerable guest! take we Refreshment also; once arrived in Troy With thy dear son, thou shalt have time to weep775 Sufficient, nor without most weighty cause. So spake Achilles, and, upstarting, slew A sheep white-fleeced, which his attendants flay’d, And busily and with much skill their task Administ’ring, first scored the viands well,780 Then pierced them with the spits, and when the roast Was finish’d, drew them from the spits again. And now, Automedon dispensed around The polish’d board bread in neat baskets piled, Which done, Achilles portion’d out to each785 His share, and all assail’d the ready feast. But when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt, Dardanian Priam, wond’ring at his bulk And beauty (for he seem’d some God from heaven) Gazed on Achilles, while Achilles held790 Not less in admiration of his looks Benign, and of his gentle converse wise, Gazed on Dardanian Priam, and, at length (The eyes of each gratified to the full) The ancient King thus to Achilles spake.795 Hero! dismiss us now each to our bed, That there at ease reclined, we may enjoy Sweet sleep; for never have these eyelids closed Since Hector fell and died, but without cease I mourn, and nourishing unnumber’d woes,800 Have roll’d me in the ashes of my courts. But I have now both tasted food, and given Wine to my lips, untasted till with thee. So he, and at his word Achilles bade His train beneath his portico prepare805 With all dispatch two couches, purple rugs, And arras, and warm mantles over all. Forth went the women bearing lights, and spread A couch for each, when feigning needful fear,[15] Achilles thus his speech to Priam turn’d.810 My aged guest beloved; sleep thou without; Lest some Achaian chief (for such are wont Ofttimes, here sitting, to consult with me) Hither repair; of whom should any chance To spy thee through the gloom, he would at once815 Convey the tale to Agamemnon’s ear, Whence hindrance might arise, and the release Haply of Hector’s body be delay’d. But answer me with truth. How many days Wouldst thou assign to the funereal rites820 Of noble Hector, for so long I mean Myself to rest, and keep the host at home? Then thus the ancient King godlike replied. If thou indeed be willing that we give Burial to noble Hector, by an act825 So generous, O Achilles! me thou shalt Much gratify; for we are shut, thou know’st, In Ilium close, and fuel must procure From Ida’s side remote; fear, too, hath seized On all our people. Therefore thus I say.830 Nine days we wish to mourn him in the house; To his interment we would give the tenth, And to the public banquet; the eleventh Shall see us build his tomb; and on the twelfth (If war we must) we will to war again.835 To whom Achilles, matchless in the race. So be it, ancient Priam! I will curb Twelve days the rage of war, at thy desire.[16] He spake, and at his wrist the right hand grasp’d Of the old sovereign, to dispel his fear.840 Then in the vestibule the herald slept And Priam, prudent both, but Peleus’ son In the interior tent, and at his side Brisëis, with transcendent beauty adorn’d.

Now all, all night, by gentle sleep subdued,845 Both Gods and chariot-ruling warriors lay, But not the benefactor of mankind, Hermes; him sleep seized not, but deep he mused How likeliest from amid the Grecian fleet He might deliver by the guard unseen850 The King of Ilium; at his head he stood In vision, and the senior thus bespake. Ah heedless and secure! hast thou no dread Of mischief, ancient King, that thus by foes Thou sleep’st surrounded, lull’d by the consent855 And sufferance of Achilles? Thou hast given Much for redemption of thy darling son, But thrice that sum thy sons who still survive Must give to Agamemnon and the Greeks For _thy_ redemption, should they know thee here.860 He ended; at the sound alarm’d upsprang The King, and roused his herald. Hermes yoked Himself both mules and steeds, and through the camp Drove them incontinent, by all unseen. Soon as the windings of the stream they reach’d,865 Deep-eddied Xanthus, progeny of Jove, Mercury the Olympian summit sought, And saffron-vested morn o’erspread the earth. They, loud lamenting, to the city drove Their steeds; the mules close follow’d with the dead.870 Nor warrior yet, nor cinctured matron knew Of all in Ilium aught of their approach, Cassandra sole except. She, beautiful As golden Venus, mounted on the height Of Pergamus, her father first discern’d,875 Borne on his chariot-seat erect, and knew: The herald heard so oft in echoing Troy; Him also on his bier outstretch’d she mark’d, Whom the mules drew. Then, shrieking, through the streets She ran of Troy, and loud proclaim’d the sight.880 Ye sons of Ilium and ye daughters, haste, Haste all to look on Hector, if ye e’er With joy beheld him, while he yet survived, From fight returning; for all Ilium erst In him, and all her citizens rejoiced.885 She spake. Then neither male nor female more In Troy remain’d, such sorrow seized on all. Issuing from the city-gate, they met Priam conducting, sad, the body home, And, foremost of them all, the mother flew890 And wife of Hector to the bier, on which Their torn-off tresses with unsparing hands They shower’d, while all the people wept around. All day, and to the going down of day They thus had mourn’d the dead before the gates,895 Had not their Sovereign from his chariot-seat Thus spoken to the multitude around. Fall back on either side, and let the mules Pass on; the body in my palace once Deposited, ye then may weep your fill.900 He said; they, opening, gave the litter way. Arrived within the royal house, they stretch’d The breathless Hector on a sumptuous bed, And singers placed beside him, who should chant The strain funereal; they with many a groan905 The dirge began, and still, at every close, The female train with many a groan replied. Then, in the midst, Andromache white-arm’d Between her palms the dreadful Hector’s head Pressing, her lamentation thus began.910 [17]My hero! thou hast fallen in prime of life, Me leaving here desolate, and the fruit Of our ill-fated loves, a helpless child, Whom grown to manhood I despair to see. For ere that day arrive, down from her height915 Precipitated shall this city fall, Since thou hast perish’d once her sure defence, Faithful protector of her spotless wives, And all their little ones. Those wives shall soon In Grecian barks capacious hence be borne,920 And I among the rest. But thee, my child! Either thy fate shall with thy mother send Captive into a land where thou shalt serve In sordid drudgery some cruel lord, Or haply some Achaian here, thy hand925 Seizing, shall hurl thee from a turret-top To a sad death, avenging brother, son, Or father by the hands of Hector slain; For he made many a Grecian bite the ground. Thy father, boy, bore never into fight930 A milky mind, and for that self-same cause Is now bewail’d in every house of Troy. Sorrow unutterable thou hast caused Thy parents, Hector! but to me hast left Largest bequest of misery, to whom,935 Dying, thou neither didst thy arms extend Forth from thy bed, nor gavest me precious word To be remember’d day and night with tears. So spake she weeping, whom her maidens all With sighs accompanied, and her complaint940 Mingled with sobs Hecuba next began. Ah Hector! dearest to thy mother’s heart Of all her sons, much must the Gods have loved Thee living, whom, though dead, they thus preserve. What son soever of our house beside945 Achilles took, over the barren deep To Samos, Imbrus, or to Lemnos girt With rocks inhospitable, him he sold; But thee, by his dread spear of life deprived, He dragg’d and dragg’d around Patroclus’ tomb,950 As if to raise again his friend to life Whom thou hadst vanquish’d; yet he raised him not. But as for thee, thou liest here with dew Besprinkled, fresh as a young plant,[18] and more Resemblest some fair youth by gentle shafts955 Of Phœbus pierced, than one in battle slain. So spake the Queen, exciting in all hearts Sorrow immeasurable, after whom Thus Helen, third, her lamentation pour’d. [19]Ah dearer far than all my brothers else960 Of Priam’s house! for being Paris’ spouse, Who brought me (would I had first died!) to Troy, I call thy brothers mine; since forth I came From Sparta, it is now the twentieth year, Yet never heard I once hard speech from thee,965 Or taunt morose, but if it ever chanced, That of thy father’s house female or male Blamed me, and even if herself the Queen (For in the King, whate’er befell, I found Always a father) thou hast interposed970 Thy gentle temper and thy gentle speech To soothe them; therefore, with the same sad drops Thy fate, oh Hector! and my own I weep; For other friend within the ample bounds Of Ilium have I none, nor hope to hear975 Kind word again, with horror view’d by all. So Helen spake weeping, to whom with groans The countless multitude replied, and thus Their ancient sovereign next his people charged. Ye Trojans, now bring fuel home, nor fear980 Close ambush of the Greeks; Achilles’ self Gave me, at my dismission from his fleet, Assurance, that from hostile force secure We shall remain, till the twelfth dawn arise. All, then, their mules and oxen to the wains985 Join’d speedily, and under Ilium’s walls Assembled numerous; nine whole days they toil’d, Bringing much fuel home, and when the tenth Bright morn, with light for human kind, arose, Then bearing noble Hector forth, with tears990 Shed copious, on the summit of the pile They placed him, and the fuel fired beneath. But when Aurora, daughter of the Dawn, Redden’d the east, then, thronging forth, all Troy Encompass’d noble Hector’s pile around.995 The whole vast multitude convened, with wine They quench’d the pile throughout, leaving no part Unvisited, on which the fire had seized. His brothers, next, collected, and his friends, His white bones, mourning, and with tears profuse1000 Watering their cheeks; then in a golden urn They placed them, which with mantles soft they veil’d Mæonian-hued, and, delving, buried it, And overspread with stones the spot adust. Lastly, short time allowing to the task,1005 They heap’d his tomb, while, posted on all sides, Suspicious of assault, spies watch’d the Greeks. The tomb once heap’d, assembling all again Within the palace, they a banquet shared Magnificent, by godlike Priam given.1010

Such burial the illustrious Hector found.[20]

[I cannot take my leave of this noble poem, without expressing how much I am struck with this plain conclusion of it. It is like the exit of a great man out of company whom he has entertained magnificently; neither pompous nor familiar; not contemptuous, yet without much ceremony. I recollect nothing, among the works of mere man, that exemplifies so strongly the true style of great antiquity.]—Tr.

FOOTNOTES

Footnotes for Book I:

“Latona’s son and Jove’s,” was Apollo, the tutelary deity of the Dorians. The Dorians had not, however, at this early age, become the predominant race in Greece proper. They had spread along the eastern shores of the Archipelago into the islands, especially Crete, and had every where signalized themselves by the Temples of Apollo, of which there seems to have been many in and about Troy. These temples were schools of art, and prove the Dorians to have been both intellectual and powerful. Homer was an Ionian, and therefore not deeply acquainted with the nature of the Dorian god. But to a mind like his, the god of a people so cultivated, and associated with what was most grand in art, must have been an imposing being, and we find him so represented. Throughout the Iliad, he appears and acts with splendor and effect, but always against the Greeks from mere partiality to Hector. It would perhaps be too much to say, that in this partiality to Hector, we detect the spirit of the Dorian worship, the only Paganism of antiquity that tended to perfect the individual—Apollo being the expression of the moral harmony of the universe, and the great spirit of the Dorian culture being to make a perfect man, an incarnation of the κοσμος. This Homer could only have known intuitively.

In making Apollo author of the plague, he was confounded with Helios, which was frequent afterwards, but is not seen elsewhere in Homer. The arrows of Apollo were “silent as light,” and their emblem the sun’s rays. The analogies are multitudinous between the natural and intellectual sun; but Helios and Apollo were two.—E.P.P.

There is something exceedingly venerable in this appearance of the priest. He comes with the ensigns of the gods to whom he belongs, with the laurel wreath, to show that he was a suppliant, and a golden sceptre, which the ancients gave in particular to Apollo, as they did one of silver to Diana.

The art of this speech is remarkable. Chryses considers the army of Greeks, as made up of troops, partly from the kingdoms and partly from democracies, and therefore begins with a distinction that includes all. Then, as priest of Apollo, he prays that they may obtain the two blessings they most desire—the conquest of Troy and a safe return. As he names his petition, he offers an extraordinary ransom, and concludes with bidding them fear the god if they refuse it; like one who from his office seems to foretell their misery, and exhorts them to shun it. Thus he endeavors to work by the art of a general application, by religion, by interest, and the insinuation of danger.

Homer is frequently eloquent in his silence. Chryses says not a word in answer to the insults of Agamemnon, but walks pensively along the shore. The melancholy flowing of the verse admirably expresses the condition of the mournful and deserted father.

[So called on account of his having saved the people of Troas from a plague of mice, _sminthos_ in their language meaning a mouse.—Tr.]

Apollo had temples at Chrysa, Tenedos, and Cilla, all of which lay round the bay of Troas. Müller remarks, that “the temple actually stood in the situation referred to, and that the appellation of Smintheus was still preserved in the district. Thus far actual circumstances are embodied in the mythus. On the other hand, the action of the deity as such, is purely ideal, and can have no other foundation than the belief that Apollo sternly resents ill usage of his priests, and that too in the way here represented, viz., by sending plagues. This belief is in perfect harmony with the idea generally entertained of the power and agency of Apollo; and it is manifest that the idea placed in combination with certain events, gave birth to the story so far as relates to the god. We have not yet the means of ascertaining whether it is to be regarded as a historical tradition, or an invention, and must therefore leave that question for the present undecided.”

The poet is careful to leave no prayer unanswered that has justice on its side. He who prays either kills his enemy, or has signs given him that he has been heard.

[For this singular line the Translator begs to apologize, by pleading the strong desire he felt to produce an English line, if possible, somewhat resembling in its effect the famous original one.

Δεινη δε κλαγγη γενετ αργυρεοιο βιοιο.—Tr.]

The plague in the Grecian camp was occasioned perhaps by immoderate heats and gross exhalations. Homer takes occasion from it, to open the scene with a beautiful allegory. He supposes that such afflictions are sent from Heaven for the punishment of evil actions; and because the sun was the principal agent, he says it was sent to punish Agamemnon for despising that god, and injuring his priest.

Hippocrates observes two things of plagues; that their cause is in the air, and that different animals are differently affected by them, according to their nature and nourishment. This philosophy is referred to the plagues here mentioned. First, the cause is in the air by means of the darts or beams of Apollo; second, the mules and dogs are said to die sooner than the men, partly from their natural quickness of smell, and partly from their feeding so near the earth whence the exhalations arise.

Juno, queen of Olympus, sides with the Grecians. Mr. Coleridge (in his disquisition upon the Prometheus of Æschylus, published in his Remains) shows very clearly by historical criticism, that Juno, in the Grecian religion, expressed the spirit of conservatism. Without going over his argument we assume it here, for Homer always attributes to Juno every thing that may be predicated of this principle. She is persistent, obstinate, acts from no idea, but often uses a superficial reasoning, and refers to Fate, with which she upbraids Jupiter. Jupiter is the intellectual power or Free Will, and by their union, or rather from their antagonism, the course of things proceeds with perpetual vicissitude, but with a great deal of life.—E.P.P.

Observe this Grecian priest. He has no political power, and commands little reverence. In Agamemnon’s treatment of him, as well as Chryses, is seen the relation of the religion to the government. It was neither master nor slave.—E.P.P.

A district of Thessaly forming a part of the larger district of Phthiotis. Phthiotis, according to Strabo, included all the southern portion of that country as far as Mount Œta and the Maliac Gulf. To the west it bordered on Dolopia, and on the east reached the confines of Magnesia. Homer comprised within this extent of territory the districts of Phthia and Hellas properly so called, and, generally speaking, the dominions of Achilles, together with those of Protesilaus and Eurypylus.

Κυνωπα.

μεγαναιδες.

Agamemnon’s anger is that of a lover, and Achilles’ that of a warrior. Agamemnon speaks of Chrysëis as a beauty whom he values too much to resign. Achilles treats Brisëis as a slave, whom he is anxious to preserve in point of honor, and as a testimony of his glory. Hence he mentions her only as “his spoil,” “the reward of war,” etc.; accordingly he relinquishes her not in grief for a favorite whom he loses, but in sullenness for the injury done him.—Dacier.

Jupiter, in the disguise of an ant, deceived Eurymedusa, the daughter of Cleitos. Her son was for this reason called Myrmidon (from μυρμηξ, an ant), and was regarded as the ancestor of the Myrmidons in Thessaly.—Smith.

According to the belief of the ancients, the gods were supposed to have a peculiar light in their eyes. That Homer was not ignorant of this opinion appears from his use of it in other places.

Minerva is the goddess of the art of war rather than of war itself. And this fable of her descent is an allegory of Achilles restraining his wrath through his consideration of martial law and order. This law in that age, prescribed that a subordinate should not draw his sword upon the commander of all, but allowed a liberty of speech which appears to us moderns rather out of order.—E.P.P.

[The shield of Jupiter, made by Vulcan, and so called from its covering, which was the skin of the goat that suckled him.—Tr.]

Homer magnifies the ambush as the boldest enterprise of war. They went upon those parties with a few only, and generally the most daring of the army, and on occasions of the greatest hazard, when the exposure was greater than in a regular battle. Idomeneus, in the 13th book, tells Meriones that the greatest courage appears in this way of service, each man being in a manner singled out to the proof of it.

In the earlier ages of the world, the sceptre of a king was nothing more than his walking-staff, and thence had the name of sceptre. Ovid, in speaking of Jupiter, describes him as resting on his sceptre.—Spence.

From the description here given, it would appear to have been a young tree cut from the root and stripped of its branches. It was the custom of Kings to swear by their sceptres.

For an account of the contest between the Centaurs and Lapiths here referred to, see Grecian and Roman Mythology.

In _antiquity_, a sacrifice of a hundred oxen, or beasts of the same kind; hence sometimes _indefinitely_, any sacrifice of a large number of victims.

[The original is here abrupt, and expresses the precipitancy of the speaker by a most beautiful aposiopesis.—Tr.]

The Iliad, in its connection, is, we all know, a glorification of Achilles by Zeus; for the Trojans only prevail because Zeus wishes to show that the reposing hero who sits in solitude, can alone conquer them. But to leave him this glorification entirely unmixed with sorrow, the Grecian sense of moderation forbids. The deepest anguish must mingle with his consciousness of fame, and punish his insolence. That glorification is the will of Zeus; and in the spirit of the ancient mythus, a motive for it is assigned in a divine legend. The sea-goddess Thetis, who was, according to the Phthiotic mythus, wedded to the mortal Peleus, saved Zeus, by calling up the giant Briareus or Ægæon to his rescue. Why it was Ægæon, is explained by the fact that this was a great sea-demon, who formed the subject of fables at Poseidonian Corinth, where even the sea-god himself was called Ægæon; who, moreover, was worshipped at several places in Eubœa, the seat of Poseidon Ægæus; and whom the Theogony calls the son-in-law of Poseidon, and most of the genealogists, especially Eumelus in the Titanomachy, brought into relation with the sea. There is therefore good reason to be found in ancient belief, why Thetis called up Ægæon of all others to Jove’s assistance. The whole of the story, however, is not detailed—it is not much more than indicated—and therefore it would be difficult even now to interpret it in a perfectly satisfactory manner. It bears the same relation to the Iliad, that the northern fables of the gods, which serve as a back-ground to the legend of Nibelungen, bear to our German ballad, only that here the separation is much greater still—Muller.

Homer makes use of this fable, without reference to its meaning as an allegory. Briareus seems to symbolize a navy, and the fable refers to some event in remote history, when the reigning power was threatened in his autocracy, and strengthened by means of his association with the people against some intermediate class.—E.P.P.

επαυρωνται.

[A name by which we are frequently to understand the Nile in Homer.—Tr.]

Around the sources of the Nile, and thence south-west into the very heart of Africa, stretching away indefinitely over its mountain plains, lies the country which the ancients called Ethiopia, rumors of whose wonderful people found their way early into Greece, and are scattered over the pages of her poets and historians.

Homer wrote at least eight hundred years before Christ, and his poems are well ascertained to be a most faithful mirror of the manners of his times and the knowledge of his age. * * * * * *

Homer never wastes an epithet. He often alludes to the Ethiopians elsewhere, and always in terms of admiration and praise, as being the most just of men, and the favorites of the gods. The same allusions glimmer through the Greek mythology, and appear in the verses of almost all the Greek poets, ere yet the countries of Italy and Sicily were even discovered. The Jewish Scriptures and Jewish literature abound in allusions to this distant and mysterious people, the annals of the Egyptian priests are full of them, and uniformly, the Ethiopians are there lauded as among the best, the most religious, and most civilized of men.—Christian Examiner.

The Ethiopians, says Diodorus, are said to be the inventors of pomps, sacrifices, solemn meetings, and other honors paid to the gods. From hence arose their character of piety, which is here celebrated by Homer. Among these there was an annual feast at Diospolis, which Eustathius mentions, when they carried about the statues of Jupiter and other gods, for twelve days, according to their number; to which, if we add the ancient custom of setting meat before statues, it will appear to be a rite from which this fable might easily have arisen.

[The original word (πολυβενθεος) seems to express variety of soundings, an idea probably not to be conveyed in an English epithet.—Tr.]

The following passage gives the most exact account of the ancient sacrifices that we have left us. There is first, the purification by the washing of hands; second, the offering up of prayers; third, the barley-cakes thrown upon the victim; fourth, the manner of killing it, with the head turned upwards; fifth, selecting the thighs and fat for their gods, as the best of the sacrifice, and disposing about them pieces cut from every part for a representation of the whole (hence the thighs are frequently spoken of in Homer and the Greek poets as the whole victim); sixth, the libation of wine; seventh, consuming the thighs in the fire of the altar; eighth, the sacrificers dressing and feasting on the rest, with joy and hymns to the gods.

The _Pæan_ (originally sung in honor of Apollo) was a hymn to propitiate the god, and also a song of thanksgiving, when freed from danger. It was always of a joyous nature. Both tune and sound expressed hope and confidence. It was sung by several persons, one of whom probably led the others, and the singers either marched onward, or sat together at table.

It was the custom to draw the ships entirely upon the shore, and to secure them by long props.—Felton

Suppliants threw themselves at the feet of the person to whom the supplication was addressed, and embraced his knees.—Felton.

Ambrosia, the food of the gods, conferred upon them eternal youth and immortality, and was brought to Jupiter by pigeons. It was also used by the gods for anointing the body and hair. Hence the expression, ambrosial locks.

The original says, “the ox-eyed goddess,” which furnishes Coleridge with one of the hints on which he proceeds in historically identifying the Argive Juno with Io and Isis, &c. There is real wit in Homer’s making her say to Jupiter, “I never search thy thoughts,” &c. The principle of conservatism asks nothing of the intellectual power, but blindly contends, reposing upon the instinct of a common sense, which leads her always to surmise that something is intended by the intellectual power that she shall not like.—E.P.P.

This refers to an old fable of Jupiter’s hanging up Juno and whipping her. Homer introduces it without reference to its meaning, which was undoubtedly some physical truth connected with the ether and the atmosphere.—E.P.P.

[The reader, in order that he may partake with the gods in the drollery of this scene, should observe that the crippled and distorted Vulcan had thrust himself into an office at all other times administered either by Hebe or Ganymede.—Tr.]

As Minerva or Wisdom was among the company, the poet’s making Vulcan act the part of peace-maker, would appear to have been from choice, knowing that a mirthful person may often stop a quarrel, by making himself the subject of merriment.

Footnotes for Book II:

The poem now becomes more exciting; the language more animated; the descriptions more lively and figurative. Homer seems to kindle with his subject, and to press all the phenomena of nature into his service for the purpose of illustration and adornment. Jupiter prepares to keep his promise of avenging Achilles, by drawing Agamemnon into a deceitful expectation of taking the city. The forces are arranged for battle, which gives occasion for the celebrated catalogue.—Felton.

The whole action of the Dream is natural. It takes the figure of one much beloved by Agamemnon, as the object that is most in our thoughts when awake, is the one that oftenest appears to us in our dreams, and just at the instant of its vanishing, leaves so strong an impression, that the voice seems still sounding in his ear.

The Dream also repeats the words of Jupiter without variation, which is considered as a great propriety in delivering a message from the father of gods and men.

King of Pylus, an ancient city of Elis.

[Agamemnon seems to entertain some doubts lest the army should so resent his treatment of their favorite Achilles, as to be indisposed to serve him.—Tr.]

[Mercury.]

[Argus.]

Homer, in a happy and poetical manner, acquaints us with the high descent of Agamemnon, and traces the origin of his power to the highest source, by saying, that the sceptre had descended to him from the hand of Jupiter.

The power of Agamemnon as a monarch refers to his being the leader of an army. According to the form of royalty in the heroic age, a king had only the power of a magistrate, except as he held the office of priest. Aristotle defines a king as a Leader of war, a Judge of controversies, and President of the ceremonies of the gods. That he had the principal care of religious rites, appears from many passages in Homer. His power was nowhere absolute but in war, for we find Agamemnon insulted in the council, but in the army threatening deserters with death. Agamemnon is sometimes styled king of kings, as the other princes had given him supreme authority over them in the siege.

[The extremest provocation is implied in this expression, which Thersites quotes exactly as he had heard it from the lips of Achilles.—Tr.]

The character of Thersites is admirably sketched. There is nothing vague and indistinct, but all the traits are so lively, that he stands before us like the image of some absurd being whom we have ourselves seen. It has been justly remarked by critics, that the poet displays great skill in representing the opponents of Agamemnon in the character of so base a personage, since nothing could more effectually reconcile the Greeks to the continuance of the war, than the ridiculous turbulence of Thersites.—Felton.

[Some for πονος here read ποθος; which reading I have adopted for the sake both of perspicuity and connection.—Tr.]

The principal signs by which the gods were thought to declare their will, were things connected with the offering of sacrifices, the flight and voice of birds, all kinds of natural phenomena, ordinary as well as extraordinary dreams.

An epithet supposed to have been derived from Gerenia, a Messenian town, where Nestor was educated.

In the pictures which Homer draws of him, the most striking features are his wisdom, bravery, and knowledge of war, his eloquence, and his old age.

For some general remarks upon the heroes of the time, see Grecian and Roman Mythology.

In allusion to the custom of pouring out a libation of pure wine, in the ceremony of forming a league, and joining right hands, as a pledge of mutual fidelity after the sacrifice.—Felton.

[Nestor is supposed here to glance at Achilles.—Tr.]

Homer here exalts wisdom over valor.

[Money stamped with the figure of an ox.]—Tr.

The encouragement of a divine power, seemed all that was requisite to change the dispositions of the Grecians, and make them more ardent for combat than they had previously been to return. This conquers their inclinations in a manner at once poetical and in keeping with the moral which is every where spread through Homer, that nothing is accomplished without divine assistance.

Homer’s rich invention gives us five beautiful similes on the march of the army. This profusion and variety can never be sufficiently admired.

The superior knowledge that the poet here attributes to the Muses as divine beings, and then his occasional invocations to them, gives an air of importance to his subject and has an imposing effect.

However fabulous the other parts of Homer’s poems may be, this account of the princes, people, and countries, is by far the most valuable piece of history and geography left us in regard to the state of Greece in that early period. Greece was then divided into several dynasties, which Homer has enumerated under their respective princes; and his division was considered so correct, that many disputes respecting the boundaries of Grecian cities were decided upon his authority. Eustathius has collected together the following instances: The city of Calydon was adjudged to the Ætolians, notwithstanding the pretensions of Æolia, because it was ranked by Homer as belonging to the former. Sestos was given to those of Abydos, upon the plea that he had said the Abydonians were possessors of Sestos, Abydos, and Arisbe. When the Milesians and people of Priene disputed their claim to Mycale, a verse of Homer gave it to the Milesians. The Athenians were put in possession of Salamis by another which was cited by Solon, or (according to some) interpolated by him for that purpose; and Porphyry says, that the catalogue was so highly esteemed, that the youths of some nations were required to commit it to memory.

Professor Felton remarks, “The student is advised to give particular attention to this important passage. He will find it the most interesting fragment of geography extant; interesting for the poetical beauty of the verse, the regular order which is followed, and the little characteristic touches which denote the peculiarities of the several provinces. The more he examines this catalogue with the subsidiary lights of geography, history and travels, the more cause will he find of wonder, that a description so ancient should combine so much accuracy, beauty, and interest. It is recommended to the student, to trace the provinces and cities on some good map of ancient Greece.”

[Some say Thebes the less, others, the suburbs of Thebes the greater. It is certain that Thebes itself sent none.—Tr.]

It was the custom of these people to shave the fore parts of their heads, that their enemies might not seize them by the hair; on the hinder part they allowed it to grow, as a valiant race that would never turn their backs. Their manner of fighting was hand to hand, without quitting their javelins.

Menelaus is occasionally distinguished by his activity, which shows his personal concern in the war.

The Arcadians, being an inland people, were unskilled in navigation, for which reason Agamemnon furnished them with shipping.

Nireus is nowhere mentioned as a leader but in these lines. As rank and beauty were his only qualifications, he is allowed to sink into oblivion.

The mud of the Peneus is of a light color, for which reason Homer gives it the epithet of silvery. The Titaresius, and other small streams which are rolled from Olympus and Ossa, are so extremely clear, that their waters are distinguished from those of the Peneus for a considerable distance from the point of their confluence.—Dodwell.

Dr. Clarke, in his travels, describes this tomb as a conical mound; and says that it is the spot of all others for viewing the plain of Troy, as it is visible in all parts of Troas. From its top may be traced the course of the Scamander, the whole chain of Ida, stretching towards Lectum, the snowy heights of Gargarus, and all the shores of Hellespont, near the mouth of the river Sigæum and the other tumuli upon the coast.

A patronymic given to Achilles as descendant of Æacus, father of Peleus.

A river of Troas in Asia Minor, the same as the Scamander.

This expression is construed by critics as denoting an unpolished dialect, but not a foreign.

Footnotes for Book III:

The scenes described in this book are exceedingly lifesome. The figures are animating and beautiful, and the mind of the reader is borne along with breathless interest over the sonorous verse.—Felton.

This is a striking simile, from its exactness in two points—the noise and the order. It has been supposed that the embattling of an army was first learned by observing the close order of the flight of these birds. The noise of the Trojans contrasts strongly with the silence of the Greeks. Plutarch remarks upon this distinction as a credit to the military discipline of the latter, and Homer would seem to have attached some importance to it, as he again alludes to the same thing.