He spake, and sat him down. The noble chief
Paris, the fair-haired Helen’s husband, rose
To answer him, and spake this wingèd speech:—
“Thy words, Antenor, please me not. Thy skill
Could offer better counsels. If those words
Were gravely meant, the gods have made thee mad.
But let me here, amid these knights of Troy,
Speak openly my mind. Give up my wife
I never will; but all the wealth I brought
With her from Argos I most willingly
Restore, with added treasures of my own.”
He said, and took his seat, and in the midst
Dardanian Priam rose, a counsellor
Of godlike wisdom, and thus sagely spake:—
“Hear me, ye Trojans, Dardans, and allies!
I speak the thought that rises in my breast.
Take now, as ye are wont, your evening meal
And set a watch and keep upon your guard;
But let Idaeus to the hollow ships
Repair at morning, and to Atreus’ sons—
To Agamemnon and his brother king—
Make known what Paris, author of this strife,
Proposes, and with fairly ordered speech
Ask further if they will consent to pause
From cruel battle till we burn the dead:
Then be the war renewed till fate shall part
The hosts and give to one the victory.”
He spake. The assembly listened and obeyed;
All through the camp in groups they took their meal.
But with the morn Idaeus visited
The hollow ships, and found the Achaian chiefs,
Followers of Mars, in council near the prow
Of Agamemnon’s barque; and, standing there,
The loud-voiced herald spake his message thus:—
“Ye sons of Atreus, and ye other chiefs
Of all the tribes of Greece, I come to you
From Priam and the eminent men of Troy,
To say, if it be pleasing to your ears,
What Alexander, author of the war,
Proposes. All the wealth which in his ships
He brought to Troy—would he had perished first!—
He will, with added treasures of his own,
Freely restore; but her who was the wife
Of gallant Menelaus he denies
To render back, though all who dwell in Troy
Join to demand it. I am furthermore
Bidden to ask if you consent to pause
From cruel battle till we burn our dead:
Then be the war renewed till fate shall part
The hosts and give to one the victory.”
He spake; and all were silent for a space.
Then spake at length the valiant Diomed:—
“Let none consent to take the Trojan’s goods,
Nor even Helen; for a child may see
The utter ruin hanging over Troy.”
He spake. The admiring Greeks confirmed with shouts
The words of Diomed the knight, and thus
King Agamemnon to Idaeus said:—
“Idaeus, thou thyself hast heard the Greeks
Pronounce their answer. What to them seems good
Pleases me also. For the slain, I give
Consent to burn them; to the dead we bear
No hatred; when they fall the rite of fire
Should soon be paid. Let Juno’s husband, Jove
The Thunderer, bear witness to our truce.”
The monarch spake, and raised to all the gods
His sceptre, while Idaeus took his way
To hallowed Ilium. There in council sat
Trojans and Dardans, waiting his return.
He came, and standing in the midst declared
His message. Then they all went forth in haste,
Some to collect the slain and some to fell
Trees in the forest. From their well-benched ships
The Achaians also issued, some to bring
The dead together, some to gather wood.
Now from the smooth deep ocean-stream the sun
Began to climb the heavens, and with new rays
Smote the surrounding fields. The Trojans met,
But found it hard to know their dead again.
They washed away the clotted blood, and laid—
Shedding hot tears—the bodies on the cars.
And since the mighty Priam’s word forbade
All wailing, silently they bore away
Their slaughtered friends, and heaped them on the pyre
With aching hearts, and, when they had consumed
The dead with fire, returned to hallowed Troy.
The nobly-armed Achaians also heaped
Their slaughtered warriors on the funeral pile
With aching hearts; and when they had consumed
Their dead with fire they sought their hollow ships.
And ere the morning came, while earth was gray
With twilight, by the funeral pile arose
A chosen band of Greeks, who, going forth,
Heaped round it from the earth a common tomb
For all, and built a wall and lofty towers
Near it—a bulwark for the fleet and host.
And in the wall they fitted massive gates,
Through which there passed an ample chariot-way;
And on its outer edge they sank a trench—
Broad, deep—and planted it with pointed stakes.
So labored through the night the long-haired Greeks.
The gods who sat beside the Thunderer Jove
Admired the mighty labor of the Greeks;
But Neptune, he who shakes the earth, began:—
“O Father Jove, henceforth will any one
Of mortal men consult the immortal gods?
Seest thou not how the long-haired Greeks have reared
A wall before their navy, and have drawn
A trench around it, yet have brought the gods
No liberal hecatombs? Now will the fame
Of this their work go forth wherever shines
The light of day, and men will quite forget
The wall which once we built with toiling hands—
Phoebus Apollo and myself—around
The city of renowned Laomedon.”
And cloud-compelling Jove in wrath replied:—
“Earth-shaking power! What words are these? Some god
Of meaner rank and feebler arm than thou
Might haply dread the work the Greeks have planned.
But as for thee, thy glory shall be known
Wherever shines the day; and when at last
The crested Greeks, departing in their ships,
Shall seek their native coasts, do thou o’erthrow
The wall they built, and sink it in the deep,
And cover the great shore again with sand.
Thus shall their bulwark vanish from the plain.”
So talked they with each other while the sun
Was setting. But the Achaians now had brought
Their labors to an end; they slew their steers
Beside the tents and shared the evening meal,
While many ships had come to land with store
Of wine from Lemnos, which Euneüs sent—
Euneüs whom Hypsipyle brought forth
To Jason, shepherd of the people. These
Brought wine, a thousand measures, as a gift
To Agamemnon and his brother king,
The sons of Atreus. But the long-haired Greeks
Bought for themselves their wines; some gave their brass,
And others shining steel; some bought with hides,
And some with steers, and some with slaves, and thus
Prepared an ample banquet. Through the night
Feasted the long-haired Greeks. The Trojan host
And their auxiliar warriors banqueted
Within the city-walls. Through all that night
The Great Disposer, Jove, portended woe
To both with fearful thunderings. All were pale
With terror; from their beakers all poured wine
Upon the ground, and no man dared
