<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=410290" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Iliad: Book 1</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought<br>countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send<br>hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs<br>and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the<br>day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first<br>fell out with one another.<br>And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the<br>son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a<br>pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of<br>Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the<br>ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a<br>great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo<br>wreathed with a suppliant's wreath and he besought the Achaeans, but<br>most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.<br>"Sons of Atreus," he cried, "and all other Achaeans, may the gods<br>who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach<br>your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for<br>her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove."<br>On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for<br>respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not<br>so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away.<br>"Old man," said he, "let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor<br>yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shall<br>profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old in my<br>house at Argos far from her own home, busying herself with her loom<br>and visiting my couch; so go, and do not provoke me or it shall be the<br>worse for you."<br>The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went<br>by the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo<br>whom lovely Leto had borne. "Hear me," he cried, "O god of the<br>silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos<br>with thy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your<br>temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or<br>goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon<br>the Danaans."<br>Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He came down<br>furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver<br>upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage<br>that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with<br>a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot<br>his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their<br>hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves,<br>and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.<br>For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people, but upon<br>the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly- moved thereto by Juno,<br>who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes and had compassion upon<br>them. Then, when they were got together, he rose and spoke among them.<br>"Son of Atreus," said he, "I deem that we should now turn roving<br>home if we would escape destruction, for we are being cut down by<br>war and pestilence at once. Let us ask some priest or prophet, or some<br>reader of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove) who can tell us why<br>Phoebus Apollo is so angry, and say whether it is for some vow that we<br>have broken, or hecatomb that we have not offered, and whether he will<br>accept the savour of lambs and goats without blemish, so as to take<br>away the plague from us."<br>With these words he sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor, wisest<br>of augurs, who knew things past present and to come, rose to speak. He<br>it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius,<br>through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo had inspired him.<br>With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them thus:-<br>"Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me tell you about the anger of<br>King Apollo, I will therefore do so; but consider first and swear that<br>you will stand by me heartily in word and deed, for I know that I<br>shall offend one who rules the Argives with might, to whom all the<br>Achaeans are in subjection. A plain man cannot stand against the anger<br>of a king, who if he swallow his displeasure now, will yet nurse<br>revenge till he has wreaked it. Consider, therefore, whether or no you<br>will protect me."<br>And Achilles answered, "Fear not, but speak as it is borne in upon<br>you from heaven, for by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, and whose<br>oracles you reveal to us, not a Danaan at our ships shall lay his hand<br>upon you, while I yet live to look upon the face of the earth- no, not<br>though you name Agamemnon himself, who is by far the foremost of the<br>Achaeans."<br>Thereon the seer spoke boldly. "The god," he said, "is angry neither<br>about vow nor hecatomb, but for his priest's sake, whom Agamemnon<br>has dishonoured, in that he would not free his daughter nor take a<br>ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils upon us, and will<br>yet send others. He will not deliver the Danaans from this<br>pestilence till Agamemnon has restored the girl without fee or<br>ransom to her father, and has sent a holy hecatomb to Chryse. Thus<br>we may perhaps appease him."<br>With these words he sat down, and Agamemnon rose in anger. His heart<br>was black with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he scowled on<br>Calchas and said, "Seer of evil, you never yet prophesied smooth<br>things concerning me, but have ever loved to foretell that which was<br>evil. You have brought me neither comfort nor performance; and now you<br>come seeing among Danaans, and saying that Apollo has plagued us<br>because I would not take a ransom for this girl, the daughter of<br>Chryses. I have set my heart on keeping her in my own house, for I<br>love her better even than my own wife Clytemnestra, whose peer she<br>is alike in form and feature, in understanding and accomplishments.<br>Still I will give her up if I must, for I would have the people<br>live, not die; but you must find me a prize instead, or I alone<br>among the Argives shall be without one. This is not well; for you<br>behold, all of you, that my prize is to go elsewhither."<br>And Achilles answered, "Most noble son of Atreus, covetous beyond<br>all mankind, how shall the Achaeans find you another prize? We have no<br>common store from which to take one. Those we took from the cities<br>have been awarded; we cannot disallow the awards that have been made<br>already. Give this girl, therefore, to the god, and if ever Jove<br>grants us to sack the city of Troy we will requite you three and<br>fourfold."<br>Then Agamemnon said, "Achilles, valiant though you be, you shall not<br>thus outwit me. You shall not overreach and you shall not persuade me.<br>Are you to keep your own prize, while I sit tamely under my loss and<br>give up the girl at your bidding? Let the Achaeans find me a prize<br>in fair exchange to my liking, or I will come and take your own, or<br>that of Ajax or of Ulysses; and he to whomsoever I may come shall<br>rue my coming. But of this we will take thought hereafter; for the<br>present, let us draw a ship into the sea, and find a crew for her<br>expressly; let us put a hecatomb on board, and let us send Chryseis<br>also; further, let some chief man among us be in command, either Ajax,<br>or Idomeneus, or yourself, son of Peleus, mighty warrior that you are,<br>that we may offer sacrifice and appease the the anger of the god."<br>Achilles scowled at him and answered, "You are steeped in<br>insolence and lust of gain. With what heart can any of the Achaeans do<br>your bidding, either on foray or in open fighting? I came not<br>warring here for any ill the Trojans had done me. I have no quarrel<br>with them. They have not raided my cattle nor my horses, nor cut<br>down my harvests on the rich plains of Phthia; for between me and them<br>there is a great space, both mountain and sounding sea. We have<br>followed you, Sir Insolence! for your pleasure, not ours- to gain<br>satisfaction from the Trojans for your shameless self and for<br>Menelaus. You forget this, and threaten to rob me of the prize for<br>which I have toiled, and which the sons of the Achaeans have given me.<br>Never when the Achaeans sack any rich city of the Trojans do I receive<br>so good a prize as you do, though it is my hands that do the better<br>part of the fighting. When the sharing comes, your share is far the<br>largest, and I, forsooth, must go back to my ships, take what I can<br>get and be thankful, when my labour of fighting is done. Now,<br>therefore, I shall go back to Phthia; it will be much better for me to<br>return home with my ships, for I will not stay here dishonoured to<br>gather gold and substance for you."<br>And Agamemnon answered, "Fly if you will, I shall make you no<br>prayers to stay you. I have others here who will do me honour, and<br>above all Jove, the lord of counsel. There is no king here so<br>hateful to me as you are, for you are ever quarrelsome and ill<br>affected. What though you be brave? Was it not heaven that made you<br>so? Go home, then, with your ships and comrades to lord it over the<br>Myrmidons. I care neither for you nor for your anger; and thus will<br>I do: since Phoebus Apollo is taking Chryseis from me, I shall send<br>her with my ship and my followers, but I shall come to your tent and<br>take your own prize Briseis, that you may learn how much stronger I am<br>than you are, and that another may fear to set himself up as equal<br>or comparable with me."<br>The son of Peleus was furious, and his heart within his shaggy<br>breast was divided whether to draw his sword, push the others aside,<br>and kill the son of Atreus, or to restrain himself and check his<br>anger. While he was thus in two minds, and was drawing his mighty<br>sword from its scabbard, Minerva came down from heaven (for Juno had<br>sent her in the love she bore to them both), and seized the son of<br>Peleus by his yellow hair, visible to him alone, for of the others<br>no man could see her. Achilles turned in amaze, and by the fire that<br>flashed from her eyes at once knew that she was Minerva. "Why are<br>you here," said he, "daughter of aegis-bearing Jove? To see the<br>pride of Agamemnon, son of Atreus? Let me tell you- and it shall<br>surely be- he shall pay for this insolence with his life."<br>And Minerva said, "I come from heaven, if you will hear me, to bid<br>you stay your anger. Juno has sent me, who cares for both of you<br>alike. Cease, then, this brawling, and do not draw your sword; rail at<br>him if you will, and your railing will not be vain, for I tell you-<br>and it shall surely be- that you shall hereafter receive gifts three<br>times as splendid by reason of this present insult. Hold, therefore,<br>and obey."<br>"Goddess," answered Achilles, "however angry a man may be, he must<br>do as you two command him. This will be best, for the gods ever hear<br>the prayers of him who has obeyed them."<br>He stayed his hand on the silver hilt of his sword, and thrust it<br>back into the scabbard as Minerva bade him. Then she went back to<br>Olympus among the other gods, and to the house of aegis-bearing Jove.<br>But the son of Peleus again began railing at the son of Atreus,<br>for he was still in a rage. "Wine-bibber," he cried, "with the face of<br>a dog and the heart of a hind, you never dare to go out with the<br>host in fight, nor yet with our chosen men in ambuscade. You shun this<br>as you do death itself. You had rather go round and rob his prizes<br>from any man who contradicts you. You devour your people, for you<br>are king over a feeble folk; otherwise, son of Atreus, henceforward<br>you would insult no man. Therefore I say, and swear it with a great<br>oath- nay, by this my sceptre which shalt sprout neither leaf nor<br>shoot, nor bud anew from the day on which it left its parent stem upon<br>the mountains- for the axe stripped it of leaf and bark, and now the<br>sons of the Achaeans bear it as judges and guardians of the decrees of<br>heaven- so surely and solemnly do I swear that hereafter they shall<br>look fondly for Achilles and shall not find him. In the day of your<br>distress, when your men fall dying by the murderous hand of Hector,<br>you shall not know how to help them, and shall rend your heart with<br>rage for the hour when you offered insult to the bravest of the<br>Achaeans."<br>With this the son of Peleus dashed his gold-bestudded sceptre on the<br>ground and took his seat, while the son of Atreus was beginning<br>fiercely from his place upon the other side. Then uprose<br>smooth-tongued Nestor, the facile speaker of the Pylians, and the<br>words fell from his lips sweeter than honey. Two generations of men<br>born and bred in Pylos had passed away under his rule, and he was<br>now reigning over the third. With all sincerity and goodwill,<br>therefore, he addressed them thus:-<br>"Of a truth," he said, "a great sorrow has befallen the Achaean<br>land. Surely Priam with his sons would rejoice, and the Trojans be<br>glad at heart if they could hear this quarrel between you two, who are<br>so excellent in fight and counsel. I am older than either of you;<br>therefore be guided by me. Moreover I have been the familiar friend of<br>men even greater than you are, and they did not disregard my counsels.<br>Never again can I behold such men as Pirithous and Dryas shepherd of<br>his people, or as Caeneus, Exadius, godlike Polyphemus, and Theseus<br>son of Aegeus, peer of the immortals. These were the mightiest men<br>ever born upon this earth: mightiest were they, and when they fought<br>the fiercest tribes of mountain savages they utterly overthrew them. I<br>came from distant Pylos, and went about among them, for they would<br>have me come, and I fought as it was in me to do. Not a man now living<br>could withstand them, but they heard my words, and were persuaded by<br>them. So be it also with yourselves, for this is the more excellent<br>way. Therefore, Agamemnon, though you be strong, take not this girl<br>away, for the sons of the Achaeans have already given her to Achilles;<br>and you, Achilles, strive not further with the king, for no man who by<br>the grace of Jove wields a sceptre has like honour with Agamemnon. You<br>are strong, and have a goddess for your mother; but Agamemnon is<br>stronger than you, for he has more people under him. Son of Atreus,<br>check your anger, I implore you; end this quarrel with Achilles, who<br>in the day of battle is a tower of strength to the Achaeans."<br>And Agamemnon answered, "Sir, all that you have said is true, but<br>this fellow must needs become our lord and master: he must be lord<br>of all, king of all, and captain of all, and this shall hardly be.<br>Granted that the gods have made him a great warrior, have they also<br>given him the right to speak with railing?"<br>Achilles interrupted him. "I should be a mean coward," he cried,<br>"were I to give in to you in all things. Order other people about, not<br>me, for I shall obey no longer. Furthermore I say- and lay my saying<br>to your heart- I shall fight neither you nor any man about this<br>girl, for those that take were those also that gave. But of all else<br>that is at my ship you shall carry away nothing by force. Try, that<br>others may see; if you do, my spear shall be reddened with your<br>blood."<br>When they had quarrelled thus angrily, they rose, and broke up the<br>assembly at the ships of the Achaeans. The son of Peleus went back<br>to his tents and ships with the son of Menoetius and his company,<br>while Agamemnon drew a vessel into the water and chose a crew of<br>twenty oarsmen. He escorted Chryseis on board and sent moreover a<br>hecatomb for the god. And Ulysses went as captain.<br>These, then, went on board and sailed their ways over the sea. But<br>the son of Atreus bade the people purify themselves; so they<br>purified themselves and cast their filth into the sea. Then they<br>offered hecatombs of bulls and goats without blemish on the sea-shore,<br>and the smoke with the savour of their sacrifice rose curling up<br>towards heaven.<br>Thus did they busy themselves throughout the host. But Agamemnon did<br>not forget the threat that he had made Achilles, and called his trusty<br>messengers and squires Talthybius and Eurybates. "Go," said he, "to<br>the tent of Achilles, son of Peleus; take Briseis by the hand and<br>bring her hither; if he will not give her I shall come with others and<br>take her- which will press him harder."<br>He charged them straightly further and dismissed them, whereon<br>they went their way sorrowfully by the seaside, till they came to<br>the tents and ships of the Myrmidons. They found Achilles sitting by<br>his tent and his ships, and ill-pleased he was when he beheld them.<br>They stood fearfully and reverently before him, and never a word did<br>they speak, but he knew them and said, "Welcome, heralds, messengers<br>of gods and men; draw near; my quarrel is not with you but with<br>Agamemnon who has sent you for the girl Briseis. Therefore, Patroclus,<br>bring her and give her to them, but let them be witnesses by the<br>blessed gods, by mortal men, and by the fierceness of Agamemnon's<br>anger, that if ever again there be need of me to save the people<br>from ruin, they shall seek and they shall not find. Agamemnon is mad<br>with rage and knows not how to look before and after that the Achaeans<br>may fight by their ships in safety."<br>Patroclus did as his dear comrade had bidden him. He brought Briseis<br>from the tent and gave her over to the heralds, who took her with them<br>to the ships of the Achaeans- and the woman was loth to go. Then<br>Achilles went all alone by the side of the hoar sea, weeping and<br>looking out upon the boundless waste of waters. He raised his hands in<br>prayer to his immortal mother, "Mother," he cried, "you bore me doomed<br>to live but for a little season; surely Jove, who thunders from<br>Olympus, might have made that little glorious. It is not so.<br>Agamemnon, son of Atreus, has done me dishonour, and has robbed me<br>of my prize by force."<br>As he spoke he wept aloud, and his mother heard him where she was<br>sitting in the depths of the sea hard by the old man her father.<br>Forthwith she rose as it were a grey mist out of the waves, sat down<br>before him as he stood weeping, caressed him with her hand, and<br>said, "My son, why are you weeping? What is it that grieves you?<br>Keep it not from me, but tell me, that we may know it together."<br>Achilles drew a deep sigh and said, "You know it; why tell you<br>what you know well already? We went to Thebe the strong city of<br>Eetion, sacked it, and brought hither the spoil. The sons of the<br>Achaeans shared it duly among themselves, and chose lovely Chryseis as<br>the meed of Agamemnon; but Chryses, priest of Apollo, came to the<br>ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and brought with him a<br>great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo,<br>wreathed with a suppliant's wreath, and he besought the Achaeans,<br>but most of all the two sons of Atreus who were their chiefs.<br>"On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting<br>the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so<br>Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. So<br>he went back in anger, and Apollo, who loved him dearly, heard his<br>prayer. Then the god sent a deadly dart upon the Argives, and the<br>people died thick on one another, for the arrows went everywhither<br>among the wide host of the Achaeans. At last a seer in the fulness<br>of his knowledge declared to us the oracles of Apollo, and I was<br>myself first to say that we should appease him. Whereon the son of<br>Atreus rose in anger, and threatened that which he has since done. The<br>Achaeans are now taking the girl in a ship to Chryse, and sending<br>gifts of sacrifice to the god; but the heralds have just taken from my<br>tent the daughter of Briseus, whom the Achaeans had awarded to myself.<br>"Help your brave son, therefore, if you are able. Go to Olympus, and<br>if you have ever done him service in word or deed, implore the aid<br>of Jove. Ofttimes in my father's house have I heard you glory in<br>that you alone of the immortals saved the son of Saturn from ruin,<br>when the others, with Juno, Neptune, and Pallas Minerva would have put<br>him in bonds. It was you, goddess, who delivered him by calling to<br>Olympus the hundred-handed monster whom gods call Briareus, but men<br>Aegaeon, for he is stronger even than his father; when therefore he<br>took his seat all-glorious beside the son of Saturn, the other gods<br>were afraid, and did not bind him. Go, then, to him, remind him of all<br>this, clasp his knees, and bid him give succour to the Trojans. Let<br>the Achaeans be hemmed in at the sterns of their ships, and perish<br>on the sea-shore, that they may reap what joy they may of their<br>king, and that Agamemnon may rue his blindness in offering insult to<br>the foremost of the Achaeans."<br>Thetis wept and answered, "My son, woe is me that I should have<br>borne or suckled you. Would indeed that you had lived your span free<br>from all sorrow at your ships, for it is all too brief; alas, that you<br>should be at once short of life and long of sorrow above your peers:<br>woe, therefore, was the hour in which I bore you; nevertheless I<br>will go to the snowy heights of Olympus, and tell this tale to Jove,<br>if he will hear our prayer: meanwhile stay where you are with your<br>ships, nurse your anger against the Achaeans, and hold aloof from<br>fight. For Jove went yesterday to Oceanus, to a feast among the<br>Ethiopians, and the other gods went with him. He will return to<br>Olympus twelve days hence; I will then go to his mansion paved with<br>bronze and will beseech him; nor do I doubt that I shall be able to<br>persuade him."<br>On this she left him, still furious at the loss of her that had been<br>taken from him. Meanwhile Ulysses reached Chryse with the hecatomb.<br>When they had come inside the harbour they furled the sails and laid<br>them in the ship's hold; they slackened the forestays, lowered the<br>mast into its place, and rowed the ship to the place where they<br>would have her lie; there they cast out their mooring-stones and<br>made fast the hawsers. They then got out upon the sea-shore and landed<br>the hecatomb for Apollo; Chryseis also left the ship, and Ulysses<br>led her to the altar to deliver her into the hands of her father.<br>"Chryses," said he, "King Agamemnon has sent me to bring you back your<br>child, and to offer sacrifice to Apollo on behalf of the Danaans, that<br>we may propitiate the god, who has now brought sorrow upon the<br>Argives."<br>So saying he gave the girl over to her father, who received her<br>gladly, and they ranged the holy hecatomb all orderly round the<br>altar of the god. They washed their hands and took up the<br>barley-meal to sprinkle over the victims, while Chryses lifted up<br>his hands and prayed aloud on their behalf. "Hear me," he cried, "O<br>god of the silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla, and<br>rulest Tenedos with thy might. Even as thou didst hear me aforetime<br>when I prayed, and didst press hardly upon the Achaeans, so hear me<br>yet again, and stay this fearful pestilence from the Danaans."<br>Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. When they had done<br>praying and sprinkling the barley-meal, they drew back the heads of<br>the victims and killed and flayed them. They cut out the<br>thigh-bones, wrapped them round in two layers of fat, set some<br>pieces of raw meat on the top of them, and then Chryses laid them on<br>the wood fire and poured wine over them, while the young men stood<br>near him with five-pronged spits in their hands. When the<br>thigh-bones were burned and they had tasted the inward meats, they cut<br>the rest up small, put the pieces upon the spits, roasted them till<br>they were done, and drew them off: then, when they had finished<br>their work and the feast was ready, they ate it, and every man had his<br>full share, so that all were satisfied. As soon as they had had enough<br>to eat and drink, pages filled the mixing-bowl with wine and water and<br>handed it round, after giving every man his drink-offering.<br>Thus all day long the young men worshipped the god with song,<br>hymning him and chaunting the joyous paean, and the god took<br>pleasure in their voices; but when the sun went down, and it came on<br>dark, they laid themselves down to sleep by the stern cables of the<br>ship, and when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared they<br>again set sail for the host of the Achaeans. Apollo sent them a fair<br>wind, so they raised their mast and hoisted their white sails aloft.<br>As the sail bellied with the wind the ship flew through the deep<br>blue water, and the foam hissed against her bows as she sped onward.<br>When they reached the wide-stretching host of the Achaeans, they<br>drew the vessel ashore, high and dry upon the sands, set her strong<br>props beneath her, and went their ways to their own tents and ships.<br>But Achilles abode at his ships and nursed his anger. He went not to<br>the honourable assembly, and sallied not forth to fight, but gnawed at<br>his own heart, pining for battle and the war-cry.<br>Now after twelve days the immortal gods came back in a body to<br>Olympus, and Jove led the way. Thetis was not unmindful of the<br>charge her son had laid upon her, so she rose from under the sea and<br>went through great heaven with early morning to Olympus, where she<br>found the mighty son of Saturn sitting all alone upon its topmost<br>ridges. She sat herself down before him, and with her left hand seized<br>his knees, while with her right she caught him under the chin, and<br>besought him, saying-<br>"Father Jove, if I ever did you service in word or deed among the<br>immortals, hear my prayer, and do honour to my son, whose life is to<br>be cut short so early. King Agamemnon has dishonoured him by taking<br>his prize and keeping her. Honour him then yourself, Olympian lord<br>of counsel, and grant victory to the Trojans, till the Achaeans give<br>my son his due and load him with riches in requital."<br>Jove sat for a while silent, and without a word, but Thetis still<br>kept firm hold of his knees, and besought him a second time.<br>"Incline your head," said she, "and promise me surely, or else deny<br>me- for you have nothing to fear- that I may learn how greatly you<br>disdain me."<br>At this Jove was much troubled and answered, "I shall have trouble<br>if you set me quarrelling with Juno, for she will provoke me with<br>her taunting speeches; even now she is always railing at me before the<br>other gods and accusing me of giving aid to the Trojans. Go back<br>now, lest she should find out. I will consider the matter, and will<br>bring it about as wish. See, I incline my head that you believe me.<br>This is the most solemn that I can give to any god. I never recall<br>my word, or deceive, or fail to do what I say, when I have nodded my<br>head."<br>As he spoke the son of Saturn bowed his dark brows, and the<br>ambrosial locks swayed on his immortal head, till vast Olympus reeled.<br>When the pair had thus laid their plans, they parted- Jove to his<br>house, while the goddess quitted the splendour of Olympus, and plunged<br>into the depths of the sea. The gods rose from their seats, before the<br>coming of their sire. Not one of them dared to remain sitting, but all<br>stood up as he came among them. There, then, he took his seat. But<br>Juno, when she saw him, knew that he and the old merman's daughter,<br>silver-footed Thetis, had been hatching mischief, so she at once began<br>to upbraid him. "Trickster," she cried, "which of the gods have you<br>been taking into your counsels now? You are always settling matters in<br>secret behind my back, and have never yet told me, if you could help<br>it, one word of your intentions."<br>"Juno," replied the sire of gods and men, "you must not expect to be<br>informed of all my counsels. You are my wife, but you would find it<br>hard to understand them. When it is proper for you to hear, there is<br>no one, god or man, who will be told sooner, but when I mean to keep a<br>matter to myself, you must not pry nor ask questions."<br>"Dread son of Saturn," answered Juno, "what are you talking about?<br>I? Pry and ask questions? Never. I let you have your own way in<br>everything. Still, I have a strong misgiving that the old merman's<br>daughter Thetis has been talking you over, for she was with you and<br>had hold of your knees this self-same morning. I believe, therefore,<br>that you have been promising her to give glory to Achilles, and to<br>kill much people at the ships of the Achaeans."<br>"Wife," said Jove, "I can do nothing but you suspect me and find<br>it out. You will take nothing by it, for I shall only dislike you<br>the more, and it will go harder with you. Granted that it is as you<br>say; I mean to have it so; sit down and hold your tongue as I bid<br>you for if I once begin to lay my hands about you, though all heaven<br>were on your side it would profit you nothing."<br>On this Juno was frightened, so she curbed her stubborn will and sat<br>down in silence. But the heavenly beings were disquieted throughout<br>the house of Jove, till the cunning workman Vulcan began to try and<br>pacify his mother Juno. "It will be intolerable," said he, "if you two<br>fall to wrangling and setting heaven in an uproar about a pack of<br>mortals. If such ill counsels are to prevail, we shall have no<br>pleasure at our banquet. Let me then advise my mother- and she must<br>herself know that it will be better- to make friends with my dear<br>father Jove, lest he again scold her and disturb our feast. If the<br>Olympian Thunderer wants to hurl us all from our seats, he can do<br>so, for he is far the strongest, so give him fair words, and he will<br>then soon be in a good humour with us."<br>As he spoke, he took a double cup of nectar, and placed it in his<br>mother's hand. "Cheer up, my dear mother," said he, "and make the best<br>of it. I love you dearly, and should be very sorry to see you get a<br>thrashing; however grieved I might be, I could not help for there is<br>no standing against Jove. Once before when I was trying to help you,<br>he caught me by the foot and flung me from the heavenly threshold. All<br>day long from morn till eve, was I falling, till at sunset I came to<br>ground in the island of Lemnos, and there I lay, with very little life<br>left in me, till the Sintians came and tended me."<br>Juno smiled at this, and as she smiled she took the cup from her<br>son's hands. Then Vulcan drew sweet nectar from the mixing-bowl, and<br>served it round among the gods, going from left to right; and the<br>blessed gods laughed out a loud applause as they saw him ing<br>bustling about the heavenly mansion.<br>Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun they<br>feasted, and every one had his full share, so that all were satisfied.<br>Apollo struck his lyre, and the Muses lifted up their sweet voices,<br>calling and answering one another. But when the sun's glorious light<br>had faded, they went home to bed, each in his own abode, which lame<br>Vulcan with his consummate skill had fashioned for them. So Jove,<br>the Olympian Lord of Thunder, hied him to the bed in which he always<br>slept; and when he had got on to it he went to sleep, with Juno of the<br>golden throne by his side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Homer">Homer</a>, translated by Samuel Butler<div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=410290" data-title="The Iliad: Book 1 de Homer" data-description="Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought/countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send/hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs/and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove f..."></div> </div> </div>

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