by Homer
‘Divine Iris, which of the gods sent you to me with this message?’
Swift Iris, quick as the wind, replied:
‘It was Hera, honourable wife of Zeus, that sent me. The son of Cronus who sits on high was not told, nor was any other of the gods that live on snowy Olympus.’
Swift-footed Achilles replied and said:
‘But how can I go into action? They’ve got my armour, and my own mother has forbidden me to prepare for battle till I (190) see her back here. She promised to bring me fine arms from Hephaestus. I don’t know of anyone else whose armour I could wear, except maybe the shield of Ajax son of Telamon. But he, I expect, will be in his place in the front line, causing havoc with his spear for the dead Patroclus.’
Swift Iris, quick as the wind, replied:
‘We gods are well aware your famous armour has been taken. But go to the ditch anyway, as you are, and show yourself to the Trojans. They may be unnerved by you and break off the (200) battle. That would give your weary troops some breathing space – there is little enough respite in war.’
[Night 26] Patroclus’ body is rescued
With these words swift-footed Iris took her leave, and Achilles dear to Zeus rose up. Athene threw her fringed aegis round his mighty shoulders and the celestial goddess also crowned him with a golden cloud around his head, and from it a blaze of light shone out. Just as smoke goes up to the skies from a town on some far-away beleaguered island which enemy troops are besieging: all day (210) long the men fight a desperate battle from their town walls, but at sunset beacon-fires blaze up one after the other, and the light shoots up into the sky for neighbours to see and come to the rescue in their ships – so the gleam from Achilles’ head reached the skies.
He went beyond the wall and took his stand by the ditch; but, remembering his mother’s careful instructions, did not join the Greeks in battle. There he stood and gave a shout, while in the distance Pallas Athene raised the war-cry too. This threw the Trojans into unutterable chaos. Like the piercing sound that (220) rings out from a trumpet when a town is surrounded by murder- ous enemies, such was Achilles’ piercing cry. The Trojans heard his bronze voice, and panic threatened. Even the lovely-maned horses sensed death in the air and began to pull their chariots round. Their charioteers were dumbfounded as they saw the inexhaustible fire, fed by the goddess grey-eyed Athene, blaze fearfully from the head of great-hearted Achilles son of Peleus. Three times godlike Achilles sent his voice ringing out over the ditch, three times the Trojans and their famous allies were (230) thrown into chaos. Twelve of their best men perished then and there, entangled among their own chariots and spears.
Meanwhile, with thankful hearts the Greeks pulled Patroclus out of range. They laid him on a bier and his dear companions gathered round him, weeping. Swift-footed Achilles accompanied them, and the hot tears poured down his cheeks when he saw his faithful companion lying on the bier pierced by the sharp bronze spear. He had sent him into battle with his chariot and horses, never to welcome him home on his return.
(240) Ox-eyed lady Hera now told the tireless sun to return, unwillingly, into the Stream of Ocean. The sun set, and the godlike Greeks enjoyed a respite from the fierce struggle and war, the great leveller.
The Trojans on their side withdrew from the heat of battle, unyoked the swift horses from their chariots and, before thinking of food, gathered together to assess the situation. Nobody dared sit down, and they held the meeting on their feet, since all of them had been appalled by Achilles’ reappearance after his long absence from war and its agonies. The discussion was (250) begun by wise Polydamas, the only man among them who looked into the future as into the past. He was a comrade of Hector’s – they were born on the same night – but he was the champion in debate, Hector in battle. He had their interests at heart as he rose and addressed them:
Polydamas advises retreat (8.553)
’Consider both sides of the question very carefully, my friends. It is my opinion that, at this distance from the walls, we ought to withdraw into the town now and not wait for daylight here in the open by the ships. So long as Achilles was at loggerheads with lord Agamemnon, the Greeks were easier to deal with, and I too enjoyed the (260) night we spent beside the ships and the hopes we entertained of capturing their rolling ships. But now I am terrified of swift-footed Achilles. He is a proud man. He will never be content to stay in the plain, where we and the Greeks meet each other on equal terms, but will make our very town and womenfolk his target.
‘Believe me, we must now retreat to Ilium. Otherwise, I know what will happen. For the moment, the blessed night has checked Achilles. But if tomorrow he charges out in full armour and catches us here, well, you won’t find him hard to recognize. The (270) man who gets away from him and reaches sacred Ilium will thank his stars. It’s Trojan flesh the dogs and vultures will be feasting on.
‘I pray my words are not an omen! But if, despite your misgivings, you follow my advice, we will keep our army together in the market-place tonight, while the town will be safely protected by its walls, high gateways and great wooden doors fitted to them, firmly closed. At daybreak, fully armed, we will take our position along the battlements; and if Achilles wants to leave the ships and take us on round the walls, so much the worse for him. When he has exhausted his high-necked (280) horses trotting them up and down below the walls, he will have to drive them back to the ships again. However great his anger, it will not allow him to force his way inside. He will never sack the town. The swift dogs will have him first.’
Hector of the flashing helmet gave him a black look and said:
Hector disagrees; prepares to fight
’Polydamas, the man who tells us to retreat and shut ourselves up in the town no longer talks my language. Aren’t you sick of being cooped up inside those walls? There was a time when the wealth of Priam’s town, its gold and bronze, was the talk of all (290) the world. But that has passed. Our houses have been emptied of their treasure; most of it has been bartered away to Phrygia and lovely Maeonia, since great Zeus came to hate us. Now, at the very moment when the son of sickle-wielding Cronus has allowed me to win glory by the ships and drive the Greeks back against the sea, don’t put such notions in the people’s heads, you ignorant fool. Not that a single Trojan will follow your lead anyway. I’ll see to that.
‘So I suggest we all do what I now propose. Let the whole army eat in its several contingents, not forgetting to mount (300) guard and the need for every man to keep alert. As for any Trojan who is over-anxious about his possessions, he should collect them and give them to the people to grow fat on – better for the people to enjoy them than the Greeks! At daybreak, fully armed, we will unleash the dogs of war by their hollow ships. If godlike Achilles really has returned to battle by the ships, so much the worse for him, if that’s what he wants. I’m not going to shirk a fight and run away from him. I shall meet him face to face and we shall see who wins the victory. The War-god has no favourites and kills the would-be killer.’
(310) So Hector addressed them, and the Trojans shouted their approval, the fools. Pallas Athene had destroyed their judgement. Polydamas, whose strategy was sound, received no support at all, but they applauded Hector and his bad advice. And now the whole army settled down to eat.
All night long the Greeks lamented and mourned for Patroclus. Achilles son of Peleus was their leader in the loud dirge. He laid his man-slaying hands on his companion’s chest and groaned again and again, like a bearded lion when a huntsman (320) has stolen its cubs from a thicket: it comes back too late, grieves for its loss and follows the man’s trail through glade after glade, hoping to track him down, and bitter anger overwhelms it – so, groaning heavily, Achilles spoke to his Myrmidons:
Achilles laments over Patroclus’ body
’What a fool I was! They were idle words I let fall that day when I was reassuring Patroclus’ warrior father Menoetius in Peleus’ palace. I said I would bring back his famous son to him at Opous after the sack of Ilium, laden wit
h his share of plunder. But Zeus makes havoc of the schemes of men; and now both of us are destined to redden with our blood one patch of earth here (330) in the land of Troy. I shall never be welcomed again on my return home by Peleus the old charioteer and my mother Thetis, but the earth I stand on will cover me.
‘So then, Patroclus, since I too am going below, but after you, I shall not hold your funeral till I have brought back here the armour and the head of Hector, who slaughtered you in your greatness. And at your pyre I am going to cut the throats of a dozen splendid sons of Troy, to vent my anger at your death.
‘Till then, you shall lie as you are by my beaked ships, (340) lamented and mourned for day and night by the Trojan women and full-girdled daughters of Dardanus whom we worked hard to capture, with our own hands and our long spears, when we sacked the fertile towns of men.’
With these words godlike Achilles told his companions to stand a great three-legged cauldron over the fire and wash the congealed blood from Patroclus’ body as soon as possible. They set a large cauldron over the glowing fire, filled it with water and brought wood for kindling underneath it. The flames began to lick the belly of the cauldron, and the water grew warm. When it came to the boil in the gleaming bronze, they washed (350) the body, anointed it with olive oil and filled the wounds with an ointment nine years old. Then they laid it on a bier and covered it from head to foot with a fine linen cloth, over which they spread a white cloak. And for the rest of the night the Myrmidons gathered round swift-footed Achilles to lament and mourn for Patroclus.
Zeus spoke to his wife and sister Hera:
HERA rejoices at success (4.34)
’So you have had your way once more, ox-eyed lady Hera, and roused swift-footed Achilles. Anyone might think the long-haired Greeks were children of your own.’
(360) Ox-eyed lady Hera replied:
‘Dread son of Cronus, what are you suggesting now? Surely even a human, a mere mortal not equipped with such wisdom as ours, is likely to get what he wants on someone else’s behalf. How then could I, who claim to be the greatest of goddesses both by right of birth and also because I am your acknowledged wife and you are lord of all the gods – how could I in my rage at the Trojans possibly refrain from making trouble for them?’
THETIS visits HEPHAESTUS
While they were talking together in this way, silver-footed Thetis made her way to the starry palace of Hephaestus, which the little club-foot god had built, with his own hands, of imperishable bronze; it (370) shone out among the houses of the gods. She found Hephaestus hard at work and sweating as he bustled about at the bellows in his forge. He was making a set of twenty tripods to stand round the walls of his well-built hall. He had fitted golden wheels to all their feet so that they could run off to a meeting of the gods and return home again, all self-propelled – an amazing sight. They were not quite finished: he still had to put on the ornamental handles and was fitting these and forging the rivets.
(380) Hephaestus was engaged on this task, which called for all his skill, when the goddess silver-footed Thetis arrived. Charis, the famous lame god’s wife, beautiful in her shimmering head-dress, came out of the house and saw her. Putting her hand in Thetis’, she said:
‘Long-robed Thetis, what brings you to our house? You are an honoured and welcome guest, though previously you have not been in the habit of visiting us. But come with me indoors and let me offer you hospitality.’
With these words the celestial goddess led her in and seated (390) her on a beautiful, decorated silver chair with a footstool underneath. Then she called to Hephaestus the famous blacksmith and said:
‘Hephaestus! Come here! Thetis wants to ask a favour of you.’
The famous lame god replied:
‘Thetis here? The very goddess whom I revere and honour for saving me in my hour of distress when my mother, the bitch, wanted to get rid of me because I was a cripple and threw me out of the skies into the sea! How I would have suffered then, if the sea-goddesses, Thetis and Eurynome daughter of Ocean with its circling stream, hadn’t taken me to their hearts. I stayed (400) nine years with them making metal jewellery – brooches, earrings, rosettes and necklaces – there in their vaulted cave, lapped by the never-ending Stream of Ocean seething with foam. No one on earth or in Olympus knew the secret but Eurynome and Thetis who had rescued me. And here is Thetis in our house, lovely-haired Thetis! I must certainly repay her for saving me. Entertain her hospitably, till I have put away my bellows and all my tools.’
HEPHAESTUS leaves his forge
(410) Hephaestus spoke and raised his monstrous, panting bulk from the anvil. He limped, but he was nimble enough on his stunted legs. He turned the bellows away from the fire, collected all the tools he used and put them in a silver chest. Then he sponged both sides of his face, his hands, his solid neck and hairy chest, put on his tunic, picked up a thick staff and came limping from the forge.
Waiting-women hurried along to help their master. They were made of gold, but looked like real girls and could not only speak (420) and use their limbs but were also endowed with intelligence and had learned their skills from the immortal gods. While they scurried round to support their lord, Hephaestus moved unsteadily to where Thetis was seated, himself sat down on a polished chair and putting his hand in hers said:
‘Long-robed Thetis, what brings you to our house? You are an honoured and a welcome guest, though previously you have not been in the habit of visiting us. Tell me what is in your mind, and I shall gladly do what you ask of me, if I can and if the task is not impossible.’
Bursting into tears, Thetis replied:
‘Hephaestus, of all the goddesses on Olympus, is there a single (430) one who has had such anguish and misery to endure as I have, beyond all others, at the hands of Zeus? I, to begin with, was the Sea-nymph whom he picked out from all the rest to force into marrying a human, Peleus son of Aeacus; and much against my will I had to endure the bed of a mortal, who lies at home now, crushed by miserable old age. But Zeus had more to follow. He gave me a son to bear and bring up, greatest of warriors. I nursed him as one tends a little plant in a garden bed and he shot up like a sapling. I sent him to Ilium in his ships to fight (440) against the Trojans; and never again now shall I welcome him home to Peleus’ house. And yet he has to suffer, every day he lives and sees the sun; and I can do no good by going to his side.
‘Now lord Agamemnon has taken from his arms the girl the Greek army gave him as a prize. He has been eating his heart out in grief at her absence. In consequence the Trojans have been able to pin the Greeks back among their ships, from which they will not let them move. Greek ambassadors were sent to supplicate Achilles and listed many prestigious gifts. But he (450) refused them: he was not going to save them from disaster himself. However, he lent his armour to Patroclus and sent him out into battle with a strong force behind him. They fought all day by the Scaean gate and would have sacked Ilium that very day, if Apollo had not given Hector the glory by killing brave Patroclus in the front line, after he had made havoc of the Trojan ranks.
Achilles’ new armour
‘So I have come to throw myself at your knees and ask you to give my son, who is so soon to die, a shield and helmet, a pair of fine leg-guards for his shins (460) fitted with ankle-clasps, and body-armour. His former set of armour was lost when his loyal companion was overwhelmed by the Trojans; and Achilles is lying on the ground, pouring his heart out over him.’
The famous lame god replied:
‘Take heart. Don’t worry about any of this. I only wish it were as easy for me to save him from the pains of death when dread destiny confronts him, as to provide him with a magnificent set of armour, which will be the wonder of everyone who sees it.’
With these words Hephaestus left her there and went back to his forge, where he turned the bellows on the fire and told them (470) to get to work. The bellows – there were twenty of them -blew through the nozzles and gave healthy blasts from different directions, fast or slow
to suit the needs of the busy blacksmith, depending on the stage the work had reached. He then placed in the crucibles over the fire imperishable bronze and some tin and precious gold and silver. Then he put a great anvil on its stand and gripped a powerful hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.
The shield: constellations
He began by making a large and heavy shield, which he decorated all over and round which he placed a bright triple rim of gleaming metal and fitted (480) with a silver shoulder-strap. The shield consisted of five layers, and he made all sorts of decorations for it, executed with consummate skill.
(490) He made earth, sky and sea, the tireless sun, the full moon and all the constellations with which the skies are crowned, the Pleiades, the Hyades, great Orion and the Bear, also called the waggon. This is the only constellation never to bathe in Ocean Stream, but always wheels round in the same place and looks across at Orion the Hunter with a wary eye.
Marriage
Next he made two beautiful towns full of people. In one of them weddings and feasts were in progress. They were bringing the brides through the streets from their homes, accompanied by blazing torches, and the wedding-hymn could be heard loud and clear. Young men danced, whirling round to the sound of pipes and lyres, and women stood by the doors of their houses to admire the sight.
Court case
But the men had gathered in the meeting-place, where a dispute had arisen between two men who were in conflict about the compensation for a man who had been killed. One side claimed the right to solve the problem by (500) meeting the demand, and was showing the people the full extent of his offer; but the other refused all compensation. Both parties insisted that the issue should be settled by an expert; and both sides were cheered by their supporters in the crowd, whom the heralds were attempting to control. The expert elders sat on smooth stone seats in a sacred circle; they received in their hands the speaker’s staff from the clear-voiced heralds; and the two sides rushed over to them as they each gave judgment in turn. Two talents of gold – one from each side – were displayed in the centre: they were the fee for the elder who delivered the soundest judgment.
