Book 9

So the Trojans held their watches; but the Achaeanswere gripped by wondrous panic, the companion of cold fear,and all their best men were struck with unbearable grief.As two winds stir the fish-filled sea,Boreas and Zephyr, that blow from Thraceand come suddenly; and together the dark wavecrests, and scatters much seaweed along the shore —so the spirit in the breasts of the Achaeans was torn.And the son of Atreus, struck in his heart with great grief,went about, bidding the clear-voiced heraldssummon each man to an assembly by name,and not to shout; and he himself labored among the first.They sat in the assembly grieving; and Agamemnonstood up, shedding tears like a dark-water springthat pours its murky water down a sheer rock —so he, groaning heavily, spoke his words to the Argives:"O friends, leaders and counselors of the Argives,Zeus the son of Cronus has bound me in heavy ruin,cruel god, who once promised me and nodded assentthat I should sack well-walled Ilios and return home;but now he has planned an evil deceit, and bids mecome to Argos in disgrace, since I have destroyed much people.So it must be dear to Zeus who is exceeding mighty,who has torn down the crowns of many citiesand will yet tear down more; for his power is the greatest.But come, let us all be persuaded as I shall say:let us flee with our ships to our dear fatherland;for we shall no longer take Troy of the wide streets."So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness.Long were the sons of the Achaeans silent, grieving;and at last Diomedes, good at the war-cry, spoke among them:"Son of Atreus, I shall fight with you first in your folly,as is right, lord, in the assembly; and do not be angry.My courage you taunted first before the Danaans,saying I was unwarlike and strengthless; but all these thingsthe Argives know, both young and old.But to you the son of crooked-counseled Cronus gave double gifts:with the scepter he gave you to be honored above all,but courage he did not give you, and that is the greatest power.Strange man, do you really suppose the sons of the Achaeansare unwarlike and strengthless, as you say?But if your own heart is eager to go home,go: there is the road, your ships stand near the sea,the many ships that followed you from Mycenae.But the other long-haired Achaeans will stayuntil we sack Troy. And if they toowish to flee with their ships to their dear fatherland,then I and Sthenelus will fight on until we findthe end of Ilios; for we came with a god."So he spoke, and all the sons of the Achaeans shouted approval,marveling at the word of Diomedes, tamer of horses.Then among them rose up and spoke the horseman Nestor:"Son of Tydeus, you are strong in war beyond all,and in counsel you are the best of all your peers.No one of all the Achaeans will blame that speech of yours,nor speak against it; yet you have not reached the end of your words.You are young indeed — you might even be my son,the youngest of my sons; yet you speak with senseto the kings of the Argives, since you have spoken rightly.But come, I, who claim to be older than you,will speak out and go through everything; and no onewill disregard my word, not even lord Agamemnon.Clanless, lawless, hearthless is that manwho longs for hateful civil war.But now let us be persuaded by black nightand prepare our supper; and let the guardseach lie down beside the dug trench, outside the wall.To the young men I give this command; but then,son of Atreus, you take the lead; for you are the most kingly.Make the feast for the elders; it becomes you, it is not unseemly.Your huts are full of wine, which the ships of the Achaeansbring daily from Thrace across the wide sea;all hospitality is yours, and you rule over many.And when many are gathered, you will obey whichever mancounsels the best counsel; and there is great need for all the Achaeansof good and shrewd counsel, since the enemy near the shipsare burning many fires; who would rejoice at this?This night will either break the army or save it."So he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed.And the guards hurried out with their armoraround Thrasymedes, son of Nestor, shepherd of the people,and around Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares,and around Meriones and Aphareus and Deipyrus,and around the son of Creon, brilliant Lycomedes.Seven were the leaders of the guards, and with eacha hundred young men went, holding long spears in their hands;and they went and sat down midway between trench and wall;there they lit a fire, and each made his supper.But the son of Atreus led the gathered elders of the Achaeansinto his hut, and set before them a satisfying feast.And they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.But when they had put away their desire for drink and food,the old man began first of all to weave counsel,Nestor, whose counsel had even before seemed best;and with kind intent he spoke to them and said:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,in you I shall end, and from you I shall begin, since over manypeoples you are lord, and Zeus put into your handsthe scepter and the ordinances, so that you might counsel them.Therefore you must speak a word above all and listen to one,and bring it to pass for another too, whenever his heart urges himto speak for the good; and it will rest on you whatever you begin.But I will say how it seems best to me.For no other man will think a better thought than thisthat I think now, as before, and still now,ever since the day when, god-born, you went and took the girl Briseisfrom the hut, with Achilles angry —not at all according to my mind; for I at leastkept advising you much against it; but you, with your great-heartedspirit yielding, dishonored a most excellent man, whom the immortals themselves honored,and took and keep his prize; but even nowlet us consider how we might appease him and persuade himwith gentle gifts and soothing words."Then answered him Agamemnon, lord of men:"Old man, you have not told my ruin falsely;I was blinded, I do not deny it. Worth manypeoples is the man whom Zeus loves in his heart,as now he has honored this man, and has crushed the army of the Achaeans.But since I was blinded, obeying my wretched wits,I am willing to make amends and give countless ransom.And before you all I will name famous gifts:seven unfired tripods, and ten talents of gold,and twenty shining cauldrons, and twelve horsessolid-hoofed, prize-winners, that won prizes with their feet.No man would be without plenty, if he had so much,nor without wealth of highly prized gold,all the prizes my single-hoofed horses have carried off.And I will give seven women skilled in blameless handiwork,Lesbian women, whom, when he himself took well-built Lesbos,I chose out, who surpassed the tribes of women in beauty.These I will give him, and with them she will be there whom he then took,the daughter of Briseus; and I will swear a great oaththat I never mounted her bed or lay with her,as is the custom of men and of women.All this will be ready at once; and if againthe gods grant that we sack the great city of Priam,let him come in and load a ship full of gold and bronze,when we divide the spoil, we Achaeans,and let him himself choose twenty Trojan women,who are the fairest after Argive Helen.And if we come to Argos of Achaea, the fat of the land,let him be my son-in-law; I shall honor him equal to Orestes,who is my late-born son, raised in great abundance.And I have three daughters in my well-built hall,Chrysothemis and Laodice and Iphianassa;let him lead away whichever he wishes as his dear wife, without bride-price,to the house of Peleus; and I will give a dowry besides,very many gifts, such as no one ever yet gave with his daughter;and I will give him seven well-inhabited cities,Cardamyle and Enope and grassy Hire,and sacred Pherae and Antheia with its deep meadows,and lovely Aipeia and vine-rich Pedasus.All are near the sea, the farthest bounds of sandy Pylos;and in them dwell men rich in flocks and rich in cattle,who shall honor him with gifts as a godand under his scepter pay him shining dues.All this I would fulfill for him if he would let go his anger.Let him submit; Hades alone is unyielding and unbreakable,and therefore he is the most hated of all gods to mortals;and let him yield to me, inasmuch as I am more kinglyand claim to be older in birth."Then answered him Geranian horseman Nestor:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,the gifts you offer to lord Achilles are no longer to be blamed;but come, let us urge chosen men to go,who may come most swiftly to the hut of Peleus' son Achilles.Come then, and let those whom I shall choose obey.Let Phoenix first, dear to Zeus, lead the way,and then great Ajax and brilliant Odysseus;and of the heralds let Odios and Eurybates follow with them.Bring water for our hands, and command the sacred silence,so that we may pray to Zeus the son of Cronus, that he may have mercy."So he spoke, and spoke a word pleasing to them all.At once the heralds poured water over their hands,and the young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink,and served it to all, pouring the first drops into the cups.But when they had made libation and drunk as much as their hearts desired,they set out from the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus.And Geranian horseman Nestor gave them many instructions,looking at each man, and at Odysseus most of all,to try how they might persuade the blameless son of Peleus.And the two walked along the shore of the loud-sounding sea,praying much to the earth-holder, the earth-shaker,that they might easily persuade the great mind of the son of Aeacus.And they came to the huts and ships of the Myrmidons,and found him delighting his heart with a clear-toned lyre,a beautiful, cunningly wrought one, with a silver bridge,which he had taken from the spoils when he destroyed the city of Eetion;with it he delighted his heart, and sang the glorious deeds of men.And Patroclus alone sat opposite him in silence,waiting for the son of Aeacus to cease his singing.And the two walked on, and brilliant Odysseus led,and they stood before him; and Achilles sprang up in amazementwith the lyre still in his hand, leaving the seat where he had sat.And Patroclus likewise rose, when he saw the men.And showing them welcome, swift-footed Achilles spoke:"Welcome; you are dear friends who have come, and there is surely great need,for even in my anger you are the dearest of the Achaeans to me."So saying, brilliant Achilles led them further in,and seated them on chairs with purple rugs.And at once he spoke to Patroclus, who was near:"Son of Menoetius, set up a larger mixing bowl,mix the wine stronger, and prepare a cup for each;for the dearest men are under my roof."So he spoke, and Patroclus obeyed his dear companion.And he threw down a great meat-block in the gleam of the fire,and on it he placed the back of a sheep and of a fat goat,and the chine of a fatted boar, rich in fat.And Automedon held it, while brilliant Achilles cut it up.And he cut it well into pieces and pierced them on spits,and the son of Menoetius, a man like a god, kindled a great fire.But when the fire had burned down and the flame had died,he spread the embers and stretched the spits above them,and sprinkled divine salt, lifting the spits from their supports.But when he had roasted it and poured it onto the platters,Patroclus took bread and served it on the tablein fine baskets, while Achilles served the meat.And he himself sat opposite brilliant Odysseusagainst the other wall, and told Patroclus, his companion,to sacrifice to the gods; and he threw the offerings into the fire.And they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.But when they had put away their desire for drink and food,Ajax nodded to Phoenix; and brilliant Odysseus noticed,and filling a cup with wine, he drank to Achilles:"Hail, Achilles; we have not lacked an equal share of the feast,both in the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,and here now too, for many satisfying thingsare here to feast on; but the business is not the welcome feast,but, god-nurtured, beholding a very great sorrow,we are afraid; and it is in doubt whether we shall save or destroythe well-benched ships, unless you put on your might.For close to the ships and the wall the high-heartedTrojans and the far-famed allies have set their camp,kindling many fires throughout the army, and they say they will no longerbe held back, but will fall upon the black ships.And Zeus the son of Cronus, showing tokens on the right,lightens with his thunder; and Hector, exulting greatly in his strength,rages madly, trusting in Zeus, and honors neithermen nor gods; and a strong fury has entered him.And he prays that the brilliant Dawn may appear at once;for he boasts that he will cut off the topmost ornaments of the shipsand burn the ships themselves with raging fire, and slaughter the Achaeansbeside them, panicked by the smoke.These things I terribly fear in my heart, lest the godsfulfill his threats, and it be our fateto perish in Troy, far from Argos, the horse-pasture.But up, if you have any wish, even though late, to rescue the sons of the Achaeanswho are worn down by the Trojans' battle-cry.For you yourself will have grief afterward, and there will be no wayto find a cure once the evil is done; but long before,consider how you may ward off the evil day from the Danaans.O dear friend, indeed your father Peleus laid commands on youon the day he sent you from Phthia to Agamemnon:'My child, Athena and Hera will give you strength,if they wish; but keep your great-hearted spiritin check within your breast; for kindness is better;and refrain from evil-devising strife, so that the Argivesmay honor you the more, both young and old.'So the old man commanded, but you forget it; but even nowcease, and let go your heart-grieving anger; and to you Agamemnonoffers worthy gifts if you let go your anger.But if you will listen to me, I will recount to youall the gifts Agamemnon promised you in your huts:seven unfired tripods, and ten talents of gold,and twenty shining cauldrons, and twelve horsessolid-hoofed, prize-winners, that won prizes with their feet.No man would be without plenty if he had so much,nor without wealth of highly prized gold,of all the prizes Agamemnon's horses carried off with their feet.And he will give seven women skilled in blameless handiwork,Lesbian women, whom, when you yourself took well-built Lesbos,he chose out, who then surpassed the tribes of women in beauty.These he will give you, and with them she will be there whom he then took,the daughter of Briseus; and he will swear a great oaththat he never mounted her bed or lay with her,as is the custom, lord, of men and of women.All this will be ready at once; and if againthe gods grant that we sack the great city of Priam,you may come in and load a ship full of gold and bronze,when we divide the spoil, we Achaeans,and you may yourself choose twenty Trojan women,who are the fairest after Argive Helen.And if we come to Argos of Achaea, the fat of the land,you may be his son-in-law; and he will honor you equal to Orestes,who is his late-born son, raised in great abundance.And he has three daughters in his well-built hall,Chrysothemis and Laodice and Iphianassa,and whichever you wish, you may lead away as your dear wife without bride-price,to the house of Peleus; and he in turn will give a dowry besides,very many gifts, such as no one ever yet gave with his daughter;and he will give you seven well-inhabited cities,Cardamyle and Enope and grassy Hire,and sacred Pherae and Antheia with its deep meadows,and lovely Aipeia and vine-rich Pedasus.All are near the sea, the farthest bounds of sandy Pylos;and in them dwell men rich in flocks and rich in cattle,who shall honor you with gifts as a godand under your scepter pay you shining dues.All this he would fulfill for you if you let go your anger.But if the son of Atreus is more hateful to your heart,himself and his gifts, then take pity on the other Panachaeanswho are worn down throughout the army, who shall honor you as a god;for truly you would win very great glory among them;for now you might kill Hector, since he would come very close to youwith his deadly fury, since he says that no one of the Danaansis his equal, of those whom the ships brought here."Then swift-footed Achilles answered him:"God-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles,I must indeed speak out my word plainly,as I think and as it shall be fulfilled,so that you do not sit by me and whine one after another.For hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that manwho hides one thing in his mind and says another.But I will say how it seems best to me:neither do I think I shall be persuaded by Agamemnon, son of Atreus,nor by the other Danaans, since it seems there was no gratitudefor fighting against enemy men unceasingly, always.Equal is the portion for the one who stays behind and for the one who fights hard;in the same honor are the coward and the brave man;alike dies the idle man and the one who has done much.Nor is anything laid up for me, since I have suffered pains in my heartalways risking my life in battle.As a bird brings food to her unfledged nestlingswhen she has found it, though it goes badly for herself,so I too have spent many sleepless nights,and passed through bloody days in battle,fighting with men for the sake of their own wives.Twelve cities of men I sacked with my ships,and on foot, I say, eleven throughout fertile Troy;from all these I took many good treasures,and I brought them all and kept giving them to Agamemnon,the son of Atreus; and he, staying back by the swift ships,received them, distributed a few, and kept many.And other prizes he gave to the chiefs and the kings;with them they lie secure, but from me alone of the Achaeanshe took, and he keeps my heart-pleasing wife; let him lie beside herand enjoy her. Why must the Argives fight the Trojans?Why did the son of Atreus gather the host and lead it here?Was it not for the sake of fair-haired Helen?Or do the sons of Atreus alone of mortal menlove their wives? Since every good and sensible manloves his own and cares for her, as I tooloved her from my heart, though she was won by the spear.But now, since he has taken the prize from my hands and cheated me,let him not test me, for I know well; he will not persuade me.But, Odysseus, let him consider with you and the other kingshow to ward off the destructive fire from the ships.Indeed he has labored very much apart from me,and has already built a wall, and dug a broad great trench before it,and fixed stakes in it;but not even so can he hold back the strength of man-slaying Hector;as long as I was fighting among the Achaeans,Hector was not willing to stir battle away from the wall,but went only as far as the Scaean gates and the oak tree;there once he waited alone, and barely escaped my onset.But now, since I do not wish to fight brilliant Hector,tomorrow, after I make sacrifice to Zeus and all the gods,and load my ships well, and drag them down into the sea,you will see, if you wish and if it concerns you,my ships sailing very early over the fish-filled Hellespont,and in them men eager to row.And if the famous earth-shaker grants good sailing,on the third day I would reach fertile Phthia.And I have very much there that I left behind when I came here;and other gold from here, and red bronze,and well-girdled women, and gray ironI will bring, all that I won by lot; but my prize, which he gave me,lord Agamemnon, son of Atreus, took back again, insulting me.Tell him all this, as I command you,openly, so that the other Achaeans too may be angry,if he still hopes to deceive some Danaan somewhere,always clothed in shamelessness; but to me at leasthe would not dare look me in the face, dog that he is.And I will not plan counsel with him, nor any deed;for he deceived and wronged me; and he will never againdeceive me with words; he has had enough. But let him be at peaceand go away; for Zeus the counselor has taken away his wits.His gifts are hateful to me, and I count him as worth a straw.Not if he gave me ten times and twenty times as muchas he has now, and if more came from somewhere else,not all that goes to Orchomenus, nor all that Thebesof Egypt holds, where the most treasures lie in houses,which has a hundred gates, and through eachtwo hundred men go out with horses and chariots;not if he gave me as much as there is sand and dust,not even so would Agamemnon persuade my heart any more,before he has paid back all the heart-grieving insult to me.And the daughter of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, I will not marry,not even if she rivaled golden Aphrodite in beauty,and equaled gray-eyed Athena in handiwork;not even so will I marry her; let him choose another of the Achaeans,whoever suits him and is more kingly.But if the gods save me and I come home,then Peleus himself will find me a wife.There are many Achaean women throughout Greece and Phthia,daughters of the best men, who defend their cities,and whichever one I wish, I will make my dear wife.And there my proud heart has very much desiredto marry a wedded wife and a fitting spouseand delight in the possessions that old Peleus acquired.For nothing is worth my life, not all that they sayIlios, that well-inhabited city, heldbefore, in peacetime, before the sons of the Achaeans came,nor all that the stone threshold of the far-shooterPhoebus Apollo holds within, in rocky Pytho.For cattle and fat sheep can be taken as spoil,and tripods and tawny horse-heads can be won,but a man's life cannot come back again to be seizedor taken, once it has passed the barrier of his teeth.For my mother, the goddess silver-footed Thetis, tells methat I carry two fates to the end of death.If I stay here and fight around the Trojans' city,my homecoming is lost, but my glory will be imperishable;but if I come home to my dear fatherland,my good glory is lost, but my life will belong, and the end of death will not reach me soon.And I would urge the others tooto sail home, since you will no longer find the endof steep Ilios; for Zeus who sees far has stretchedhis hand over it, and the people have taken courage.But you, go to the chiefs of the Achaeansand report my message; for that is the privilege of elders —so that they may think of another, better plan in their minds,one that will save both their ships and the Achaean hostamong the hollow ships, since this plan of theirsis not workable, the one they thought up while I am angry.And let Phoenix stay here with us and sleep,so that tomorrow he may follow me in my ships to my dear fatherland,if he wishes; but I will not take him by force.So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,marveling at his word; for he had spoken very harshly.And at last the old horseman Phoenix spoke,bursting into tears; for he feared greatly for the Achaean ships:"If indeed you intend homecoming in your heart, shining Achilles,and you do not wish at all to ward the destroying firefrom the swift ships, since anger has fallen on your heart,how then could I be left behind by you, dear child,alone? The old horseman Peleus sent me with youon the day he sent you from Phthia to Agamemnon,a child still, knowing nothing of equal waror of assemblies, where men become distinguished.Therefore he sent me to teach you all this,to be a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.So then, dear child, I would not be willingto be left behind by you, not even if a god himselfpromised to shave off my old age and make me young and blooming,such as when I first left Hellas of fair women,fleeing the quarrels of my father Amyntor, son of Ormenus,who was angry with me over a fair-haired concubine,whom he himself loved, and dishonored his wife,my mother; and she kept pleading with me, clasping my knees,to lie with the concubine, so that she would hate the old man.I obeyed her and did it; and my father at once suspectedand prayed many curses, and called down the hateful Furiesthat no dear son born of me might everbe seated on his knees; and the gods fulfilled the curses,Zeus of the underworld and awful Persephone.Then no longer at all did my heart within me urge meto stay in the halls with my father angry.Indeed many kinsmen and cousins around mekept pleading with me and holding me back in the halls,and they slaughtered many fat sheep and shambling curved-horned cattle,and many boars, glistening with fat,were stretched out and singed over the flame of Hephaestus,and much wine was drunk from the jars of the old man.Nine nights I slept beside them there;they took turns keeping watch, and the fire never died,one under the porch of the well-fenced courtyard,another in the forecourt, in front of the chamber doors.But when the tenth dark night came upon me,then I broke open the closely fitted doors of the chamberand went out, and leapt over the courtyard fenceeasily, escaping the watchmen and the slave women.Then I fled far away through wide Hellas,and came to fertile Phthia, mother of sheep,to lord Peleus; and he gladly received me,and loved me as a father loves his son,his only late-born son among his many possessions,and he made me rich, and gave me a great host;and I dwelt on the edge of Phthia, ruling over the Dolopes.And I made you as great as this, godlike Achilles,loving you from my heart, since you would not wish with anothereither to go to the feast or to eat in the halls,until I had set you on my kneesand fed you bits of meat and held the wine cup for you.Often you wet the tunic on my chest,spitting out the wine in your troublesome infancy.So for your sake I suffered much and toiled much,thinking on this, that the gods would not give me offspringof my own; but you, godlike Achilles, I mademy son, so that one day you might ward off shameful ruin from me.But Achilles, master your great anger; it is not rightfor you to keep a pitiless heart. Even the gods themselves are swayed,and their excellence and honor and strength are greater than ours.And men turn them aside with burnt offerings and gentle prayers,with libations and the savor of sacrifice,pleading, whenever someone has transgressed and sinned.For the Prayers are the daughters of great Zeus,lame and wrinkled and squinting of eye,and they busy themselves, going behind Ruin.But Ruin is strong and swift of foot, for she outstripsall of them far, and reaches first over all the earth,harming men; and the Prayers heal afterward.Whoever respects the daughters of Zeus as they come near,him they greatly help, and they hear him when he prays.But whoever denies them and rejects them harshly,they go and plead with Zeus the son of Cronusthat Ruin may follow him, so that he is harmed and pays.But Achilles, grant that you too follow the daughters of Zeus,honor, which bends the mind of even other good men.For if the son of Atreus were not offering gifts and naming them to come later,but were always angrily harsh,I would not urge you to cast away your wrathand defend the Argives, even in their need.But now he gives much at once and promises more to come,and he has sent the best men to plead with you,chosen from the Achaean host, who are to youthe dearest of the Argives. Do not make light of their wordor their coming; before, it was not blameworthy to be angry.So too we have heard of the glorious deeds of men of old,heroes, whenever an overwhelming anger came on them;they could be won by gifts and persuaded by words.I remember this deed from long ago, not recent,how it was; and I will tell it to you all, my dear friends.The Curetes fought and the battle-steadfast Aetoliansaround the city of Calydon, and slaughtered one another,the Aetolians defending lovely Calydon,the Curetes eager to destroy it in war.For golden-throned Artemis had stirred evil against them,angered because Oeneus did not offer her the first fruits of the orchard's field;the other gods feasted on hecatombs,but to her alone he did not sacrifice, the daughter of great Zeus.Either he forgot or did not notice; and he sinned greatly in his heart.And she, angered, the shining archer goddess,stirred up against him a wild, savage boar with white tusks,which did many evils, ranging through Oeneus' orchard;and it threw many tall trees to the ground, roots and all,with their roots and their blossoms of apples.And the son of Oeneus, Meleager, killed it,gathering hunters from many citiesand dogs; for it would not have been overcome by a few mortals,so huge it was, and it put many on the painful pyre.And she set great clamor and shouting around it,over the boar's head and shaggy hide,between the Curetes and the great-hearted Aetolians.So long as Meleager, dear to Ares, was fighting,so long it went badly for the Curetes, and they could nothold out outside the wall, though they were many.But when anger entered Meleager, anger that swellsthe heart in the breasts of others too, even the very wise,then, angry with his dear mother Althaea in his heart,he lay beside his wedded wife, beautiful Cleopatra,daughter of Marpessa of the fair ankles, daughter of Evenusand of Idas, who was the strongest of men on earthin those days; and he even drew his bow against lordPhoebus Apollo for the sake of the fair-ankled nymph.And her, at home in the halls, her father and queenly motherused to call Alcyone, an added name, becauseher mother, sharing the fate of the much-sorrowing kingfisher,wept because the far-working Phoebus Apollo had snatched her away.Beside her he lay, digesting his heart-grieving anger,angry because of his mother's curses, who, grieving much,prayed to the gods, for her brother's slaughter,and often beat the all-nourishing earth with her hands,calling on Hades and awful Persephone,sitting crouched down, her bosom wet with tears,that death be given to her son; and the mist-walking Furyheard her from Erebus, with an unyielding heart.And soon the uproar and din of war rose around the gates,as the towers were battered; and the old men of the Aetolianspleaded with him, and sent the best priests of the gods,promising a great gift if he would come out and defend:wherever the richest plain of lovely Calydon was,there they told him to choose a very beautiful plot,fifty measures, half of it vineyard,and half to cut as bare plowland of the plain.And the old horseman Oeneus pleaded much with him,standing on the threshold of his high-roofed chamber,shaking the well-fitted door, pleading with his son;and his sisters and queenly mother pleaded much with him,but he refused the more; and his companions, many of them,who were the most trusted and dearest of all to him;but not even so did they persuade the heart in his breast,until the chamber was battered hard, and the Cureteswere climbing on the towers and burning the great city.And then his well-girdled wife pleaded with Meleager,wailing, and she recounted to him allthe sorrows that come to men when their city is taken:they kill the men, and fire razes the city,and others carry off the children and the deep-girdled women.And his heart was stirred as he heard of the evil deeds,and he went out, and put the shining armor on his body.So he warded off the evil day from the Aetolians,yielding to his own heart; but then they no longer paid himthe many lovely gifts, and he warded off the evil even so.But do not you think such things in your mind, and may no godturn you to that; it would be worseto defend the ships when they are burning. Come, go with gifts;for the Achaeans will honor you like a god.But if you enter man-destroying war without gifts,you will no longer have the same honor, though you ward off the war."Then swift-footed Achilles answered him:"Phoenix, old father, god-nurtured, I have no needof this honor; I think I am honored by the decree of Zeus,which will hold me by the curved ships as long as breathremains in my breast and my knees move.And another thing I will tell you, and you lay it in your mind:do not confuse my heart by weeping and grieving,bringing favor to the hero son of Atreus; it is not rightfor you to love him, lest you become hateful to me who love you.It is good for you to care for the one who cares for me;rule equally with me and share half my honor.These men will report back, but you lie down and stay hereon a soft bed; and at dawn, when it appears,we shall consider whether we go home or stay."So he spoke, and nodded silently with his eyebrows to Patroclusto spread a thick bed for Phoenix, so that as quickly as possiblethey might think about going home from the hut; and among them Ajax,godlike son of Telamon, spoke a word:"God-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles,let us go; for I do not think the end of our wordswill be accomplished this way. We must reportthe message to the Danaans at once, even though it is not good,for they sit there now waiting. But Achilleshas made his great-hearted spirit savage in his breast,hard man, and he does not change his mind toward the love of his companions,the love with which we honored him by the ships above all others.Pitiless. And yet a man accepts recompense even from a brother's killer,or for his own child who has died.And the one who has paid much stays in his own land,and the other's heart and proud spirit are checkedwhen he has received the price. But to you the gods have putan unceasing and evil heart in your breast because of one girl,one only. And now we offer you seven outstanding women,and many other things besides. Put on a gracious heart,and respect your roof. We are under your roof,out of the crowd of the Danaans, and we long above all othersto be your dearest and most beloved of all the Achaeans."Then swift-footed Achilles answered him:"Ajax, god-born son of Telamon, leader of hosts,in everything you have said as my heart would have it.But my heart swells with anger whenever I rememberhow the son of Atreus treated me with contempt before the Argives,as if I were some dishonored refugee.But go, and report your message.For I will not think of bloody warbefore the son of wise Priam, brilliant Hector,comes to the huts and ships of the Myrmidons,killing Argives, and burns the ships with fire.But around my own hut and black ship,I think Hector, eager as he is for battle, will be checked."So he spoke, and each man took his double-handled cupand poured a libation and went back to the ships; Odysseus led.And Patroclus told his companions and the slave womento spread a thick bed for Phoenix as quickly as possible.And they obeyed and spread the bed as he commanded,with fleeces and a rug and fine linen sheets.There the old man lay down and waited for shining Dawn.But Achilles slept in the inner corner of his well-built hut;and beside him lay a woman, whom he had brought from Lesbos,the daughter of Phorbas, Diomede of the fair cheeks.And Patroclus lay on the other side; and beside him toowas well-girdled Iphis, whom brilliant Achilles gave himwhen he took steep Scyros, the city of Enyeus.And when they came to the huts of the son of Atreus,the sons of the Achaeans welcomed them with golden cups,each rising from different sides, and they asked them questions.And first Agamemnon, lord of men, asked:"Come, tell me, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,does he wish to ward off the destructive fire from the ships,or has he refused, and does anger still hold his great heart?"Then much-enduring brilliant Odysseus answered him:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,that man is not willing to quench his anger, but is still morefilled with rage, and he refuses you and your gifts.He told you yourself to think, among the Argives,how you might save the ships and the Achaean host.And he himself threatened that at dawn, when it appears,he will drag his well-benched, curved ships into the sea.And he said he would urge the others tooto sail home, since you will no longer find the endof steep Ilios; for Zeus who sees far has stretchedhis hand over it, and the people have taken courage.So he spoke. And these men here were with me, who can tell you this,Ajax and the two heralds, both men of sense.And the old man Phoenix lay down there, as he had ordered,so that he might follow him in his ships to his dear fatherlandtomorrow, if he wishes; but he will not take him by force."So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,marveling at his word; for he had spoken very harshly.Long were the sons of the Achaeans silent, grieving;and at last Diomedes, good at the war-cry, spoke among them:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,would that you had not pleaded with the blameless son of Peleus,offering countless gifts; for he is a proud man even so;and now you have pushed him much further into his pride.But let us leave him alone, whether he goesor stays; he will fight again when the heartin his breast urges him and a god stirs him.But come, let us all be persuaded as I shall say:now go to sleep, having satisfied your heartswith food and wine; for that is strength and might.And when the lovely rosy-fingered Dawn appears,quickly, in front of the ships, keep the men and horsesin order, urging them on, and fight yourself in the front ranks."So he spoke, and all the kings approvedhis word, marveling at Diomedes, tamer of horses.And then they poured libations and each went to his hut,and there they lay down and took the gift of sleep.

So the Trojans kept their watch. But the Greekswere seized by strange panic, the companion of cold fear,and all their best men were struck with unbearable grief.Just as two winds stir up the fish-filled sea,the north wind and the west wind, blowing from Thrace,coming suddenly, so that the dark wavespile up together and scatter seaweed along the shore —so the hearts in the Greeks' chests were torn apart.Agamemnon, struck to the heart with great grief,went around telling his clear-voiced heraldsto call each man to the assembly by name,not by shouting. He himself worked among the leaders.They sat in the assembly, grieving. Agamemnonstood up, crying, like a spring of dark waterthat pours its murky water down a steep rock.Groaning heavily, he spoke to the Greeks:"Friends, leaders and counselors of the Greeks,Zeus the son of Cronus has tied me up in heavy ruin.He is cruel: once he promised me and noddedthat I would sack well-walled Troy and get home.Now he has planned a wicked trick, and tells meto come back to Argos in disgrace, since I have killed so many men.So this must please Zeus, who is very strong,who has destroyed the tops of many citiesand will destroy more. His power is the greatest.But come, let's all do what I say.Let's run away with our ships to our own country.We will never take wide-streeted Troy."He spoke, and they all went silent.For a long time the Greeks sat still, grieving.Then at last Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke up:"Son of Atreus, I'll fight you first over your foolishness,as is right in the assembly, lord. Don't be angry.You were the first to insult my courage in front of the Greeks,saying I was no fighter and a coward. But all thisthe Greeks know, both young and old.The son of crooked-counseled Cronus gave you two gifts.He gave you the scepter, to be honored above all,but he did not give you courage, which is the greatest strength.Strange man, do you really think the Greeksare no fighters and cowards, as you say?If your own heart is eager to go home,then go. The road is there, your ships are near the sea,standing ready, the many ships that followed you from Mycenae.But the other long-haired Greeks will stayuntil we sack Troy. And even if they toorun off with their ships to their own country,then I and Sthenelus will fight until we findthe end of Troy. We came here with a god."He spoke, and all the Greeks shouted in approval,amazed at the words of Diomedes, the horse-tamer.Then the horseman Nestor stood up among them and said:"Son of Tydeus, you are strong in war above all,and in advice you are the best of all your peers.No Greek will find fault with what you said,or argue against it. But you haven't finished the thought.You are young — you could be my son,my youngest son. Yet you speak wiselyto the Greek kings, because what you said was right.But come: I, who claim to be older than you,will tell you everything plainly. No onewill dismiss my words, not even lord Agamemnon.That man is clanless, lawless, and homelesswho longs for hateful civil war.So now let's obey the black nightand get our supper ready. Let each guardlie down beside the dug ditch, outside the wall.That's my order for the young men. Then,son of Atreus, you take command. You are the top king.Make a feast for the elders. That suits you, it's not shameful.Your huts are full of wine, which Greek shipsbring from Thrace across the wide sea every day.You can host anyone; you rule over many.And when many are gathered, you'll follow the manwho gives the best advice. All the Greeks badly needgood, solid advice, since the enemy near the shipsare burning many fires. Who could be happy about that?This night will either tear the army apart or save it."He spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed.The guards rushed out with their armoraround Thrasymedes, Nestor's son, shepherd of the people,and around Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, the sons of Ares,and around Meriones, Aphareus, and Deipyrus,and around the son of Creon, shining Lycomedes.There were seven leaders of the guard, and with eacha hundred young men marched, holding long spears.They went and sat down halfway between ditch and wall.There they lit fires, and each man made his supper.Agamemnon led the gathered Greek eldersinto his hut, and set out a feast to satisfy them.They reached for the food set before them.When they had eaten and drunk all they wanted,the old man began first to weave his advice —Nestor, whose counsel had always seemed the best.He spoke to them with kind intent and said:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,I'll end with you and begin with you, since you are lordover many peoples, and Zeus put into your handsthe scepter and the laws, so you could advise them.So you should speak first, and listen too,and put into action what another man sayswhen his heart urges him to speak for the good. It's up to you what happens.But I will say what seems best to me.No other man will think a better plan than thisthat I am thinking now, as I did before and still do:ever since the day you went and took the girl Briseisfrom his hut, while Achilles was angry.That was not my idea at all. Ikept telling you not to. But you, giving in to your proudspirit, disgraced a great man, one the gods themselves honored,and took and kept his prize. But even nowlet's work out how to appease him and win him overwith gentle gifts and soothing words."Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him:"Old man, you did not lie about my ruin.I was blinded. I don't deny it. A man worth manypeoples is the man Zeus loves in his heart,as he has now honored this man and crushed the Greek army.But since I was blinded and trusted my miserable wits,I'm willing to make up for it and give endless ransom.Before you all I'll list the famous gifts:seven tripods that never saw fire, ten talents of gold,twenty shining cauldrons, twelve horses,solid-hoofed prize-winners that won races with their feet.A man with that much would not be poor,would not lack precious gold,everything my horses have won as prizes.And I'll give seven women skilled at blameless work,women of Lesbos, whom I picked out myselfwhen he took well-built Lesbos, the most beautiful of all women.These I'll give him, and with them the one I took then,the daughter of Briseus. And I'll swear a great oaththat I never went to her bed or slept with her,as is the custom between men and women.All this will be ready at once. And if againthe gods let us sack great Priam's city,let him come and load a ship full of gold and bronze,when we Greeks divide the spoils,and let him choose twenty Trojan women himself,the most beautiful after Argive Helen.And if we get back to Greek Argos, the rich farmland,let him be my son-in-law. I'll honor him like Orestes,my late-born son, raised in great luxury.I have three daughters in my well-built hall:Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianassa.Let him take whichever he wants home to Peleus' houseas his dear wife, no bride-price needed. I'll add a dowry,more than any man ever gave with his daughter.I'll give him seven well-settled cities:Cardamyle, Enope, grassy Hire,sacred Pherae, Antheia with its deep meadows,lovely Aipeia, and vine-rich Pedasus.They are all near the sea, at the edge of sandy Pylos.The men there have many flocks and herds,and they will honor him with gifts like a god,and under his scepter pay him rich dues.All this I would do for him, if he let go his anger.Let him give in. Hades is the one unyielding, unbreakable god,and that's why mortals hate him most of all.Let him yield to me, since I am more kinglyand claim to be older than he is."Then Geranian horseman Nestor answered him:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,the gifts you offer lord Achilles can no longer be criticized.But come, let's send chosen men,who can get to Peleus' son Achilles' hut fastest.Let the men I pick obey.First let Phoenix, dear to Zeus, lead the way,then great Ajax and shining Odysseus.Of the heralds, let Odios and Eurybates go with them.Bring water for our hands, and order silenceso we can pray to Zeus the son of Cronus, hoping he has mercy."He spoke, and his words pleased them all.At once the heralds poured water over their hands,and the young men filled the mixing bowls to the top with drink,and served everyone, pouring the first drops into the cups.When they had poured libations and drunk all they wanted,they set out from the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus.Geranian horseman Nestor gave them many instructions,looking at each man, and most at Odysseus,to try to persuade the blameless son of Peleus.The two walked along the shore of the loud-roaring sea,praying much to the earth-holder, the earth-shaker,to easily persuade the great mind of Aeacus' grandson.They came to the Myrmidons' huts and ships,and found him delighting his heart with a clear-toned lyre,a beautiful, finely made one with a silver bridge.He had taken it from the spoils when he destroyed Eetion's city.With it he pleased his heart, and sang the glorious deeds of men.Patroclus sat alone across from him in silence,waiting for Achilles to stop singing.The two walked closer, and shining Odysseus led.They stood in front of him. Achilles jumped up in surprise,still holding the lyre, leaving the seat where he sat.Patroclus stood up too when he saw the men.Welcoming them, swift-footed Achilles said:"Welcome! You are dear friends to have come, and there must be great need,since even when I'm angry you are the dearest Greeks to me."Saying this, shining Achilles led them inand sat them on chairs with purple rugs.At once he spoke to Patroclus, who was nearby:"Son of Menoetius, set out a bigger mixing bowl,mix the wine stronger, and get a cup for each man.The dearest men are under my roof."He spoke, and Patroclus obeyed his dear friend.He threw down a big chopping block in the firelight,and on it put the back of a sheep and a fat goat,and the chine of a fattened boar, thick with fat.Automedon held it, and shining Achilles cut it.He cut it well into pieces and put them on spits.Menoetius' son, a man like a god, lit a big fire.When the fire had burned down and the flame died,he spread the embers and laid the spits on top,and sprinkled holy salt, lifting the spits from their stands.When he had roasted the meat and poured it onto platters,Patroclus took bread and served it on the tablein fine baskets, while Achilles served the meat.He sat down across from shining Odysseusagainst the far wall, and told his friend Patroclusto make sacrifice to the gods. He threw the offerings in the fire.They reached for the food set before them.When they had eaten and drunk all they wanted,Ajax nodded to Phoenix, and shining Odysseus noticed.He filled a cup with wine and toasted Achilles:"Greetings, Achilles. We haven't lacked an equal share of the feast,either in Agamemnon's hutor here now, since there is plenty of good foodto eat. But the feast isn't the business at hand.We are looking at a very great disaster,and we are afraid. It's a question of saving or losingthe well-benched ships, unless you put on your strength.The proud Trojans and the far-famed allieshave camped close to the ships and wall,lighting many fires through the army. They say they will no longerbe held back, but will fall on the black ships.Zeus the son of Cronus is showing signs on the rightand flashing lightning. Hector, exulting in his strength,is raging madly, trusting in Zeus. He honors neithermen nor gods. A strong madness has taken him.He prays for shining Dawn to come quickly,because he vows to cut the top ornaments off the shipsand burn the ships with raging fire, and slaughter the Greeksbeside them, panicked by the smoke.I fear these things terribly in my heart — that the godswill carry out his threats, and that it will be our fateto die in Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.But up! Even if late, if you want to rescue the Greekswho are worn down by the Trojan war cry.Later you will have grief, and there will be no wayto find a cure once the harm is done. So before that,think how you can ward off the evil day from the Greeks.Dear friend, your father Peleus gave you orderson the day he sent you from Phthia to Agamemnon:'My child, Athena and Hera will give you strengthif they wish. But keep your proud spiritunder control in your chest. Kindness is better.Stop evil-planning strife, so the Greeksmay honor you more, both young and old.'So the old man told you, but you forget. Even nowstop, and let go your heart-paining anger. Agamemnonoffers you worthy gifts if you let go your anger.But if you will listen to me, I'll list for youall the gifts Agamemnon promised in your huts:seven tripods that never saw fire, ten talents of gold,twenty shining cauldrons, twelve horses,solid-hoofed prize-winners that won races with their feet.A man with that much would not be poor,would not lack precious gold,everything Agamemnon's horses won with their feet.He'll give seven women skilled at blameless work,women of Lesbos, whom he picked out when you yourselftook well-built Lesbos, then the most beautiful of all women.These he'll give you, and with them the one he took then,the daughter of Briseus. And he'll swear a great oaththat he never went to her bed or slept with her,as is the custom, lord, for men and women.All this will be ready at once. And if againthe gods let us sack great Priam's city,you can come and load a ship full of gold and bronze,when we Greeks divide the spoils,and you can choose twenty Trojan women yourself,the most beautiful after Argive Helen.And if we get back to Greek Argos, the rich farmland,you can be his son-in-law. He'll honor you like Orestes,his late-born son, raised in great luxury.He has three daughters in his well-built hall:Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianassa.You can lead whichever you want to Peleus' houseas your dear wife, no bride-price needed. He'll add a dowry,more than any man ever gave with his daughter.He'll give you seven well-settled cities:Cardamyle, Enope, grassy Hire,sacred Pherae, Antheia with its deep meadows,lovely Aipeia, and vine-rich Pedasus.They are all near the sea, at the edge of sandy Pylos.The men there have many flocks and herds,and they will honor you with gifts like a god,and under your scepter pay you rich dues.All this he would do for you, if you let go your anger.But if Agamemnon is more hateful to your heart,both him and his gifts, then pity the other Greekswho are worn down through the army, and who will honor you like a god.You would win very great glory among them.Right now you could kill Hector, since he would come very closein his deadly rage, since he says no oneof the Greeks the ships brought here is his equal."Swift-footed Achilles answered him:"Son of Laertes, Odysseus of many tricks,I must say my answer straight out,as I think, and as it will happen,so you don't sit here and mutter at me one after another.I hate that man as much as the gates of Hadeswho hides one thing in his mind and says another.I'll say what seems best to me.I don't think I'll be persuaded by Agamemnonor the other Greeks. There was no gratitudefor fighting enemy men without pause, forever.The man who stays behind gets the same share as the man who fights hard.The coward and the brave man get the same honor.The idle man and the man who has done much die alike.Nothing is laid up for me, since I have suffered in my heart,always risking my life in battle.Like a bird carrying food to her unfledged chickswhen she finds it, though it goes badly for her,so I have spent many sleepless nightsand fought through bloody days,battling men for the sake of their wives.I sacked twelve cities with my shipsand eleven on foot through fertile Troy.From all of them I took many fine treasures,and I brought them all and kept giving them to Agamemnon.He stayed behind by the swift ships,took it all, shared out a little, and kept a lot.He gave other prizes to the chiefs and kings.Those are still safely theirs. From me alone of the Greekshe took my prize and keeps it. He sleeps beside her —let him enjoy her. Why should the Greeks fight the Trojans?Why did Agamemnon gather the army and bring it here?Wasn't it for fair-haired Helen?Do only Atreus' sons love their wives,out of all mortal men? Any good, sensible manloves his own wife and cares for her, as Iloved her from my heart, even though I won her with a spear.Now that he has taken my prize from my hands and cheated me,let him not test me — I know him well, he won't persuade me.Odysseus, let him figure out with you and the other kingshow to keep the destructive fire off the ships.He has done plenty of work without me.He has already built a wall and dug a wide, great ditch in front of it,and set stakes in it.But even so he can't hold back man-killing Hector's strength.While I was fighting among the Greeks,Hector didn't want to move the battle away from the wall.He only came as far as the Scaean gates and the oak tree.There he once stood alone, and barely escaped my attack.But now, since I don't want to fight shining Hector,tomorrow, after I sacrifice to Zeus and all the gods,load my ships well, and drag them into the sea,you will see, if you want and if you care,my ships sailing very early over the fish-filled Hellespont,with men in them eager to row.And if the famous earth-shaker gives good sailing,on the third day I would reach fertile Phthia.I have plenty there that I left behind when I came.I'll bring other gold from here, and red bronze,and well-girdled women, and gray iron,as much as I won by lot. But my prize, the one he gave me,lord Agamemnon took back again, insulting me.Tell him all this, just as I say,openly, so the other Greeks get angry too,if he still hopes to cheat some Greek somewhere —he is always dressed in shamelessness. But to mehe wouldn't dare look me in the face, dog that he is.I won't plan anything with him, no advice, no action.He cheated and wronged me. He won't fool me againwith words. He's had enough. Let him go,at peace. Zeus the counselor has taken away his wits.His gifts are hateful to me. I count him as worth a straw.Not if he gave me ten or twenty times as muchas he has now, and more came from somewhere,not all the wealth that goes to Orchomenus, or to EgyptianThebes, where the most treasure lies in the houses,a city with a hundred gates, and through eachtwo hundred men ride out with horses and chariots.Not if he gave me as much as sand and dust —even then Agamemnon would not persuade my heart,not before he pays back the whole heart-paining insult.I won't marry the daughter of Agamemnon,not even if she rivaled golden Aphrodite in beautyand matched gray-eyed Athena in work.I won't marry her. Let him pick another Greek,one who suits him and is more kingly.If the gods save me and I get home,then Peleus himself will find me a wife.There are many Greek women in Greece and Phthia,daughters of the best men who defend their cities.Whichever one I want, I'll make my dear wife.There my proud heart has wanted very muchto marry a wife and a fitting partnerand enjoy the things old Peleus acquired.Nothing is worth my life — not all the wealth they saywell-inhabited Troy heldbefore, in peacetime, before the Greeks came,not all that lies inside the stone thresholdof far-shooting Phoebus Apollo in rocky Pytho.Cattle and fat sheep can be raided,and tripods and tawny horses can be won,but a man's life cannot be raided backor bought back, once it has passed his teeth.My mother, the goddess silver-footed Thetis, tells meI carry two fates to the end of death.If I stay here and fight around Troy,my homecoming is lost, but my glory will never die.But if I go home to my own country,my good glory is lost, but my life will belong, and death won't come to me soon.I would advise the others tooto sail home, since you will never find the endof steep Troy. Zeus who sees far has stretchedhis hand over it, and the people have taken courage.Go to the Greek chiefsand report my answer. That is what elders do.Let them think of a better plan,one that saves their ships and the Greek army,there by the hollow ships. What they thought upwhile I'm angry won't work.Let Phoenix stay here with us and sleep,so tomorrow he can follow me in my ships to my own country,if he wants. I won't force him."He spoke, and they all went silent,amazed at his words, because he had spoken so harshly.At last old horseman Phoenix spoke,bursting into tears, afraid for the Greek ships:"If you really plan to go home, shining Achilles,and don't want at all to keep the destroying fireoff the swift ships, since anger has fallen on your heart,then how could I be left behind by you, dear child,alone? Old horseman Peleus sent me with youon the day he sent you from Phthia to Agamemnon,a child who knew nothing of equal waror of assemblies, where men become great.That's why he sent me to teach you all this,to be a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.So then, dear child, I would not be willingto be left behind by you, not even if a god himselfpromised to strip off my old age and make me young again,like when I first left Greece of beautiful women,running from the quarrels of my father Amyntor,who was angry with me over a fair-haired slave girlhe loved himself, and disgraced his wife,my mother. She kept begging me, grabbing my knees,to sleep with the slave girl, so she would hate the old man.I listened to her and did it. My father found out at onceand prayed many curses, calling down the hateful Furiesthat no son born from me would everbe set on his knees. The gods fulfilled the curses,Zeus of the underworld and awful Persephone.Then my heart no longer urged meto stay in the halls with my father angry.Many kinsmen and cousins around mekept begging me and holding me back in the halls.They slaughtered many fat sheep and curved-horned cattle,and many fat, glistening boarswere hung and roasted over Hephaestus' flame,and a lot of the old man's wine was drunk from jars.Nine nights I slept beside them there.They took turns keeping watch, and the fire never went out,one under the porch of the well-fenced yard,another in the entryway, in front of the bedroom doors.But when the tenth dark night came,I broke open the tightly fitted bedroom doorsand went out, and jumped over the courtyard fenceeasily, escaping the guards and the slave women.Then I fled far through wide Greece,and came to fertile Phthia, mother of sheep,to lord Peleus. He welcomed me gladly,and loved me like a father loves his son,his only late-born son among all his wealth.He made me rich and gave me a great army.I lived at the edge of Phthia, ruling the Dolopes.I made you as great as this, godlike Achilles,loving you from the heart, because you didn't want to goto a feast or eat in the halls with anyone elseuntil I had set you on my kneesand fed you pieces of meat and held the wine cup.Often you wet the tunic on my chest,spitting out the wine in your miserable infancy.So for you I suffered much and worked hard,thinking that the gods would give me no offspringof my own. But you, godlike Achilles, I mademy son, so you might one day keep shameful ruin from me.But Achilles, control your great anger. You should notkeep a pitiless heart. Even the gods themselves can be swayed,and their excellence and honor and strength are greater.Men turn them aside with offerings and gentle prayers,with libations and the smell of sacrifice,begging, whenever someone crosses the line and sins.The Prayers are the daughters of great Zeus.They are lame and wrinkled and squint-eyed,and they go along behind Ruin.But Ruin is strong and swift-footed, since sheoutruns them all and reaches all the earth first,harming men. The Prayers heal afterward.Whoever respects Zeus's daughters when they come near,they help him greatly and hear his prayer.But whoever refuses them and harshly rejects them,they go and beg Zeus the son of Cronusto let Ruin follow him, so he is harmed and pays.So Achilles, let yourself follow the daughters of Zeusand show them honor, which bends the mind of even good men.If Agamemnon weren't offering gifts and promising more to come,but kept on being harshly angry,I would not urge you to throw off your angerand help the Greeks, even though they need it.But now he gives much at once and promises more later,and he has sent the best men to beg you,chosen from the Greek army, the men who aredearest to you of the Greeks. Don't brush off their wordsor their coming. Before, being angry wasn't wrong.We have heard of the famous deeds of men of old,heroes, whenever overwhelming anger came on them.They were won over by gifts and persuaded by words.I remember a story from long ago, nothing recent,how it happened, and I'll tell it to you all, dear friends.The Curetes fought the battle-steadfast Aetoliansaround the city of Calydon, killing each other,the Aetolians defending lovely Calydon,the Curetes eager to destroy it in war.Golden-throned Artemis had stirred this evil up,angry because Oeneus didn't offer her the first fruits of his orchard.The other gods feasted on hecatombs,but to her alone he didn't sacrifice, the daughter of great Zeus.Either he forgot or didn't notice. He sinned greatly in his heart.She was angry, and the shining archer goddessstirred up a wild, savage boar with bright tusks,which did a lot of harm, roaming through Oeneus' orchard.It threw many tall trees to the ground, roots and all,right down to the roots, with the apple blossoms.Oeneus' son Meleager killed it,gathering hunters from many citiesand dogs. It wouldn't have been beaten by a few men.It was that big, and it put many on the painful funeral pyre.Artemis set a big fight and uproar over it,over the boar's head and shaggy hide,between the Curetes and the great-hearted Aetolians.As long as Meleager, dear to Ares, fought,things went badly for the Curetes, and they couldn'thold out outside the wall, though they were many.But when anger entered Meleager — anger that swellsthe heart in even the wisest men —he lay in his chamber, angry at his own mother Althaea,beside his wife, beautiful Cleopatra,daughter of Marpessa of the fair ankles, daughter of Evenusand of Idas, the strongest man on earthin those days. He even drew his bow against lordPhoebus Apollo for the sake of the fair-ankled girl.Her father and queenly mother at home in the hallsused to call her Alcyone, a second name, becauseher mother, sharing the fate of the much-sorrowing kingfisher,wept because far-working Phoebus Apollo had snatched her away.Beside her he lay, digesting his heart-paining anger,angry because of his mother's curses. She, grieving much,prayed to the gods, because of her brothers' murder,and often beat the all-nourishing earth with her hands,calling on Hades and awful Persephone,crouched down, her bosom wet with tears,that her son should die. The mist-walking Furyheard her from Erebus, with an unyielding heart.Soon the noise and din of war rose around the gates,as the towers were battered. The old men of the Aetoliansbegged him, and sent the best priests of the gods,promising a great gift if he would come out and fight:in the richest plain of lovely Calydonthey told him to choose a very beautiful plot —fifty measures, half vineyard,and half to cut as bare farmland of the plain.Old horseman Oeneus begged him a lot,standing on the threshold of his high-roofed chamber,shaking the fitted doors, begging his son.His sisters and queenly mother begged him a lot.He refused even more. His companions, many of them,who were the most trusted and dearest of all to him —even they couldn't persuade the heart in his chest,until the chamber was being battered hard, and the Cureteswere climbing the towers and burning the great city.Then his well-girdled wife begged Meleager,wailing, and she told him everything,all the sorrows that come to people when their city is taken:they kill the men, fire levels the city,and others carry off the children and the deep-girdled women.His heart stirred as he heard about these evils,and he went out and put on his shining armor.So he warded off the evil day from the Aetolians,giving in to his own heart. But then they never paid himthe many lovely gifts, and he drove off the evil anyway.Don't you think that way in your mind, and may no godturn you to that. It would be worseto help the ships when they are burning. Come, go with gifts.The Greeks will honor you like a god.But if you go into man-destroying war without gifts,you won't have the same honor, even if you drive off the war."Swift-footed Achilles answered him:"Phoenix, old father, raised by gods, I don't needthat honor. I think I am honored by Zeus's decree,which will hold me by the curved ships as long as breathstays in my chest and my knees move.I'll tell you something else, and you keep it in mind:don't confuse my heart by crying and grieving,doing a favor for the hero Agamemnon. You shouldn'tlove him, or you'll become hateful to me who loves you.It's good to care for the one who cares for me.Rule equally with me and take half my honor.These men will report back, but you lie down and stay hereon a soft bed. At dawn,we'll decide whether we go home or stay."He spoke, and silently nodded with his eyebrows to Patroclusto spread a thick bed for Phoenix, so they could thinkabout going home from the hut as soon as possible.Then godlike Ajax, Telamon's son, spoke:"Son of Laertes, Odysseus of many tricks,let's go. I don't think our words will endthe way we wanted here. We need to reportthe message to the Greeks at once, even though it's bad news,since they are sitting there waiting. Achilleshas made his proud heart savage in his chest,hard man. He doesn't change toward the love of his friends,the love we showed him by the ships, more than anyone.Pitiless. A man takes payment even from a brother's killer,or for his own son who died.The one who paid a lot stays in his own land,and the other's heart and proud spirit are held backonce he takes the payment. But to you the gods have givenan unending, evil heart in your chest because of one girl.And now we offer you seven outstanding women,and many other things besides. Put on a kind heart.Respect your roof. We are under your roof,from the whole Greek crowd, and we want above all othersto be your dearest, most beloved friends of all the Greeks."Swift-footed Achilles answered him:"Ajax, son of Telamon, leader of men,everything you said is exactly as my heart feels.But my heart swells with anger when I rememberhow Agamemnon treated me with contempt in front of the Greeks,like some dishonored refugee.Go and report your message.I won't think about bloody waruntil the son of wise Priam, shining Hector,reaches the huts and ships of the Myrmidons,killing Greeks and burning the ships with fire.But around my own hut and black ship,I think Hector, eager for battle as he is, will be stopped."He spoke. Each man took his double-handled cupand poured a libation, then went back to the ships. Odysseus led.Patroclus told his companions and the slave womento spread a thick bed for Phoenix as fast as possible.They obeyed and spread the bed as he commanded,with fleeces, a rug, and fine linen sheets.There the old man lay down and waited for shining Dawn.Achilles slept in the inner corner of his well-built hut.Beside him lay a woman he had brought from Lesbos,the daughter of Phorbas, Diomede of the fair cheeks.Patroclus lay on the other side, and beside him toowas well-girdled Iphis, whom shining Achilles gave himwhen he took steep Scyros, the city of Enyeus.When they reached Agamemnon's huts,the sons of the Greeks welcomed them with golden cups,each rising from a different side, and they asked them questions.First Agamemnon, lord of men, asked:"Come, tell me, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Greeks,does he want to keep the destructive fire off the ships,or has he refused, and does anger still hold his proud heart?"Much-enduring shining Odysseus answered:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,he is not willing to quench his anger. He is still morefilled with rage, and he refuses you and your gifts.He told you to figure out, with the Greeks,how to save the ships and the Greek army.He threatened that at dawnhe will drag his well-benched, curved ships into the sea.He said he would urge the others tooto sail home, since you will never find the endof steep Troy. Zeus who sees far has stretchedhis hand over it, and the people have taken courage.So he spoke. These men here with me can tell you this,Ajax and the two heralds, both sensible men.Old Phoenix lay down there, as he was told,so he can follow him in his ships to his own countrytomorrow, if he wants. He won't force him."He spoke, and they all went silent,amazed at his words, because he had spoken so harshly.For a long time the Greeks sat still, grieving.At last Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke up:"Son of Atreus, most glorious Agamemnon, lord of men,I wish you hadn't begged the blameless son of Peleus,offering countless gifts. He is a proud man anyway.Now you've pushed him much further into his pride.Let's leave him alone, whether he goesor stays. He'll fight again when the heartin his chest urges him and a god stirs him.But come, let's all do what I say.Now go to sleep, once you've satisfied your heartswith food and wine, since that is strength and power.When lovely rosy-fingered Dawn appears,quickly, in front of the ships, get the men and horsesin order, urging them on, and fight yourself in the front line."He spoke, and all the kings approvedhis words, amazed at Diomedes, the horse-tamer.Then they poured libations and each went to his hut,and there they lay down and took the gift of sleep.