Homer
The Iliad

[Translation by Ian Johnston, Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC. This document is in the public domain and may be used by anyone without permission and without charge, provided the source is acknowledged. For information about the translation, comments, suggestions, and so on, click on Iliad Contents Page]

Book One
The Quarrel by the Ships

[The invocation to the Muse; Agamemnon insults Apollo; Apollo sends the plague onto the army; the quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon; Calchas indicates what must be done to appease Apollo; Agamemnon takes Briseis from Achilles; Achilles prays to Thetis for revenge; Achilles meets Thetis; Chryseis is returned to her father; Thetis visits Zeus; the gods converse about the matter on Olympus; the banquet of the gods]

[Last modified on December 15, 2001]

[Note that the line numbers in square brackets refer to the Greek text]

Sing, Goddess, sing of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus--
that murderous anger which condemned Achaeans
to countless agonies, threw many warrior souls
deep into Hades, leaving their dead bodies
carrion food for dogs and birds--
all in fulfillment of the will of Zeus.

Start at the point where Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
that king of men, quarreled with godlike Achilles.
Which of the gods drove these two men to fight?

That god was Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto. 10
Angry with Agamemnon, he cast plague down [10]
onto the troops--deadly infectious evil.
For Agamemnon had dishonoured his priest, Chryses.
The priest had come to the ships to find his daughter,
Chryseis, bringing with him a huge ransom.
In his hand he held up on a golden staff
the scarf sacred to Apollo, archer god.
He begged the Achaeans, above all the army's leaders,
the two sons of Atreus:

"Menelaus, Agamemnon, sons of Atreus, 20
all you well-armed Achaeans, may the gods
on Olympus grant that you destroy Priam's city,
and then return home safe and sound.
Release my dear child to me. Take this ransom. [20]
Honour Apollo, far-shooting son of Zeus."

All the Achaeans roared out their support:

"Respect the priest. Take the generous ransom."

Displeased, Agamemnon dismissed Chryses roughly--

"Old man,
don't let me catch you by our hollow ships,
sneaking back here today or later on. 30
Who cares about Apollo's scarf and staff?
I'll not release the girl to you, no, not before
she's grown old with me, in Argos, far from home, [30]
working the loom, sharing my bed. Go away.
If you want to get home safely, don't anger me."

The old man, afraid, obeyed his words, walked off in silence,
along the shore by the tumbling, crashing surf.
Some distance off, he prayed to Lord Apollo,
Leto's fair-haired child:

"God with the silver bow,
protector of Chryse, sacred Cilla, 40
mighty lord of Tenedos, Sminthean Apollo,
hear my prayer: If I've ever pleased you
with a holy shrine, or burned bones for you-- [40]
bulls and goats well wrapped in fat--
grant me my prayer. Force the Danaans
to pay full price for my tears with your arrows."

So Chryses prayed. Phoebus Apollo heard him.
He came down from Olympus top enraged,
carrying on his shoulders bow and covered quiver,
his arrows rattling in anger against his arm. 50
So the god swooped down, descending like the night.
He sat some distance from the ships, shot off an arrow--
the silver bow reverberating ominously.
First, the god massacred mules and swift dogs, [50]
then fired sharp arrows in among the troops themselves.
Thick fires burned the corpses ceaselessly.

For nine days Apollo rained death down upon the troops.
On the tenth, Achilles summoned an assembly.
White-armed Hera put that thought into his mind,
concerned for the Danaans, seeing them die. 60
The men gathered. The meeting came to order.
Swift-footed Achilles rose to speak:

"Son of Atreus,
I fear we're being beaten back, forced home,
if we aren't all going to be destroyed right here, [60]
with war and plague killing Achaeans off.
Come now, let's ask some prophet, priest,
interpreter of dreams--for dreams, too, come from Zeus--
a man who might say why Apollo is so angry,
whether he faults our prayers and sacrifice,
whether somehow he'll accept sacrificial smoke 70
from perfect lambs and goats, then rouse himself,
to release us from this plague."

Achilles spoke and took his seat.
Then Calchas, Thestor's son, stood up before them all,
the most astute interpreter of birds, who understood
present, future, past. His skill in prophecy, [70]
Apollo's gift, had led Achaean ships to Troy.
He addressed the troops, bearing in mind their common good:

"Achilles, friend of Zeus, you ask me to explain
Apollo's anger, the god who shoots from far.
And I will speak. But first you listen to me. 80
Swear an oath that you will freely help me,
in word and deed. For I think I may provoke
someone who wields great power over Argives,
a man who is obeyed by everyone.
An angry king overpowers lesser men. [80]
Even if that day his anger is suppressed,
resentment lingers in his chest, until one day
he acts on it. So speak. Will you protect me?"

In response to Calchas, swift-footed Achilles said:

"Take courage. State what your powers tell you. 90
By Apollo, whom Zeus loves, to whom you, Calchas,
pray in prophesy to the Danaans, I swear this:
while I live to look upon the light of day,
no Achaean will raise violent hands against you,
no, not even if you name Agamemnon, [90]
who claims he's by far the best Achaean."

Encouraged, the wise prophet then declared:

"Apollo does not fault us for prayers or sacrifices,
but for his priest, disgraced by Agamemnon,
who did not release his daughter, take the ransom. 100
That's why the archer god has brought disaster,
and will bring still more. He won't remove
this wretched plague from the Danaans,
until we hand back bright-eyed Chryseis,
give her to her beloved father, freely,
without ransom, and offer holy sacrifice
to Chryse. If we will carry out all that,
we may change Apollo's mind, appease him." [100]

So he spoke and sat back down. Then, Atreus' son,
wide ruling, mighty Agamemnon, stood up before them, 110
incensed, spirit filled with huge black rage.
Eyes blazing fire, he rounded first on Calchas:

"Prophet of evil, when have you ever said
good things to me? You love to predict the worst,
always the worst! You never reveal good news.
Now, in prophecy to the Danaans,
you say archer Apollo brings us pain [110]
because I was unwilling to accept
fine ransom for Chryses' daughter, Chryseis.
But I have a great desire to take her home. 120
In fact, I want her more than Clytaemnestra,
the wife I married. Chryseis is just as good
in her shape, physique, intelligence, or work.
Still, I'm prepared to give her back, if that's best.
I want the people safe, not all killed off.
But then you owe me a prize immediately.
I won't be the only Argive left without a prize.
That would be entirely unfair to me.
All of you see my spoils are going elsewhere." [120]

At that point, swift-footed Achilles answered the king: 130

"Noble son of Atreus, most acquisitive of men,
how can brave Achaeans give you a prize now?
There are none left for us to pass around.
We've divided up what we allotted,
loot from captured towns we devastated.
For men to make a common pile again,
well, that would be unfair. Send the girl back,
as the god demands. Should Zeus ever grant
we pillage Troy, a city rich in goods,
we'll give you three or four times as much." 140

Mighty Agamemnon then said in reply: [130]

"Achilles, you're a fine man, like a god.
But don't conceal what's in your heart.
You'll not trick me, win me with your words.
You intend to keep your prize for yourself,
while my trophy is taken from me.
Isn't that why you bid me give back Chryseis?
Let Achaeans give me another prize,
equal in value, something I'll enjoy.
If not, then I'll take a prize myself by force, 150
something from you, Ajax, or Odysseus.
The man I visit is going to be enraged.
But let's postpone discussion of all this for now. [140]
Let's drag a black ship down to the sacred sea,
collect a chosen crew, load oxen on for sacrifice,
bring aboard Chryseis, that fair-complexioned girl.
Let's have as leader some wise counselor—
Idomeneus, Ajax, god-like Odysseus,
or you, Peleus's son, most eminent of all,
so that with sacrifice we may appease 160
the god who shoots from far away."

Scowling grimly, swift-footed Achilles interposed:

"You insatiable creature, quite shameless.
How can any Achaean willingly obey you-- [150]
join a raiding party or battle on
with full force against an enemy?
I didn't come to battle over here
because of Trojans. I have no fight with them.
They never stole my bulls or horses,
or razed my crops in fertile Phthia, 170
where heroes grow. Many shady mountains
and the roaring sea stand there between us.
But you, great shameless man, we came with you,
to please you, salvage honour from the Trojans--
for you, dog face, and for Menelaus.
You don't consider this, don't think at all. [160]
You threaten now to confiscate the prize
I worked so hard for, gift from Achaea's sons.
When we Achaeans loot some well-built Trojan town,
my prizes never match the ones you get. 180
The major share of war's fury rests on me.
But when we hand around the battle spoils,
you get much larger trophies. Worn out in war,
I reach my ships with something fine but small.
So now I'll return home to Phthia.
It's far better to sail back in my curved ships. [170]
I don't fancy staying here unvalued,
to pile up riches, treasures just for you."

To that, Agamemnon, king of men, shot back:

"Fly off home then, if that's your heart's desire. 190
I'll not beg you to stay on my account.
I have others around to honour me,
especially all-wise Zeus himself.
Of all the kings Zeus cherishes, you're the one
I hate the most. You always love strife,
war, combat. So what if you're strong?
Some god gave you that. So scurry off home.
Take ships and friends. Go rule your Myrmidons. [180]
I don't like you or care about your rage.
But I'll make this threat: I'll take your prize, 200
fair-cheeked Briseis. I'll fetch her in person.
You'll see just how much I'm the better man.
And others will hate to speak to me as peers,
in public claiming full equality with me."

As Agamemnon spoke, Peleus' son, Achilles,
was overwhelmed with anguish, heart torn two ways,
debating in his shaggy chest what he should do:
should he draw out the sharp sword on his thigh, [190]
incite the crowd, kill Atreus' son, or suppress his rage,
control his fury. As he argued in his mind and heart, 210
he slid his huge sword part way from its sheath.
At that moment, Athena came down from heaven.
White-armed Hera had sent her. She cherished both men,
cared for them equally. Athena stood behind Achilles,
grabbed him by his red-brown hair, invisible to all,
only Achilles saw her. Amazed, he turned round.
At once he recognized Pallas Athena,
the dreadful glitter in her eyes. Achilles spoke-- [200]
his words had wings.

"Child of aegis-bearing Zeus,
why have you come now? Do you wish to see 220
the arrogance of Agamemnon?
I'll tell you where all this is going to lead:
that arrogance will soon cost him his life."

Glittery-eyed Athena then spoke in reply:

"I came down from heaven to curb your passion,
if you obey. White-armed Hera sent me.
She loves you both alike, cares equally.
Give up this quarrel. Don't draw your sword. [210]
Fight him with words, so he becomes disgraced.
For I say to you, and this will happen, 230
because of Agamemnon's arrogance
some day gifts three times greater than this girl
will be set down before you. Control yourself. Obey."

Book Six
Hector and Andromache

[The battle continues; Menelaus captures Adrestus; Agamemnon refuses ransom; Helenus gives advice to Hector; Glaucus and Diomedes prepare to fight; Glaucus tells the story of Bellerophon; Glaucus and Diomedes exchange armour in friendship; Hector goes to Troy, talks with his mother; Hector talks to Paris and Helen; Hector goes home, talks to his housekeeper; Hector meets Andromache and Astyanax; Hector prays for his son's future; Paris rejoins Hector at the gates]

[Last modified December 24, 2001]

[Note that the line number in square brackets refer to the Greek text]

Now the grim war between Trojans and Achaeans
was left to run its course. The battle raged,
this way and that, across the entire plain,
as the men hurled bronze-tipped spears at one another,
between the Simoeis and Xanthus rivers.

Ajax, son of Telamon, Achaea's tower of strength,
was the first to break through ranks of Trojans,
punching out some breathing room for his companions.
He hit Acamas, son of Eussorus, a strong, brave, soldier,
best of the Thracians. Ajax's spear struck him first, 10
on the peak of his horse-plumed helmet. The sharp bronze
drove right into his forehead--dead in the centre-- [10]
straight through bone into the brain. Darkness fell on his eyes.

Diomedes, expert in war cries, killed Axylus,
son of Teuthranus, a rich man, from well-built Arisbe.
People really loved him, for he lived beside a road,
welcomed all passers-by into his home.
But not one of those men he'd entertained now stood
in front of him, protecting him from wretched death.
Diomedes took the lives of two men--Axylus, 20
and his attendant Calesius, his charioteer.
So both men went down into the underworld.

Euryalus killed Dresus, Opheltius, [20]
then charged after Aesepus, Pedasus,
whom the naiad nymph Abararea bore
to noble Boucolion, son of high-born Laomedon,
his eldest son. His mother bore Pedasus secretly.
Bucolion had had sex with the nymph
while tending his flock. She became pregnant,
then gave birth to twin sons. Euryalus, 30
son of Mecistus, slaughtered both of them,
destroying their strength, their splendid bodies.
Then he stripped the armour from their shoulders.

Next, fierce warrior Polypoetes killed Astyalus.
With his bronze spear Odysseus killed Pidytes, from Percote, [30]
Teucer slaughtered lord Aretaon. Antilochus,
son of Nestor, killed Ableros with his glittering spear.
Agamemnon, king of men, killed Elatus,
who lived in high Pedasus, by the banks
of the fair-flowing river Satnious. 40
Heroic Leitus killed Phylacus, as he was fleeing.
And Eurypylus then butchered Melanthus.

Menelaus, skilled in war cries, captured Adrestus alive.
His horses had panicked, bolting across the plain,
run headlong into a tamarisk bush, snapping the pole
on the curved chariot, right at the very end. [40]
The horses bolted to the city, where others,
panic stricken, were headed, too. Adrestus
rolled out of the chariot beside the wheel,
face down in the dirt. Menelaus, son of Atreus, 50
stood there beside him, holding his long-shadowed spear.
Adrestus clutched Menelaus by the knees, begging:

"Take me alive, son of Atreus--you'll get
good ransom. My father is a wealthy man,
owns lots of things--bronze, silver, well-worked iron.
So he'll give you an immense ransom,
if he learns I'm alive by the Achaean ships." [50]

Adrestus pleaded. Menelaus' heart in his chest was moved.
He was about to hand Adrestus over to his attendant,
to take back captive to the fast Achaean ships. 60
But then Agamemnon came running up to him,
sharply criticizing Menelaus:

"Menelaus, you soft-hearted man,
why are you sparing men's lives like this?
In your own home, Trojans treated you
exceptionally well, did they not?
So don't let any one of them evade
terrible destruction at our hands--
not even the young child still carried
in his mother's belly. Let no one escape. 70
Let everyone in Troy be slaughtered,
without pity, without leaving a trace." [60]

With these words, by this appeal to justice,
he changed his brother's mind. So Menelaus
shoved heroic Adrestus away from him.
Mighty Agamemnon then speared him in the side.
Adrestus fell onto his back. The son of Atreus,
placing his heel on his chest, pulled the ash spear out.

Then Nestor addressed the Argives, shouting:

"My friends,
Danaan heroes, companions of Ares, 80
let no one lag behind to pick up loot,
seeking to reach our ships carrying all you can.
Let's kill the enemy instead. Later,
with the corpses on the plain, you'll have time [70]
to strip the bodies of the dead."

With this Nestor stirred each man's strength and spirit.
Then Achaeans, filled with love of war, would once more
have beaten Trojans, broken by cowardice,
back in flight to Troy, if Helenus, son of Priam,
by far the best at reading omens, hadn't spoken out. 90
Standing beside Hector and Aeneas, Helenus said:

"Aeneas, Hector, among Trojans, Lycians,
the main weight falls on you two especially,
for you are, in all attacks, the best at fighting,
at strategy. Make a stand right here. [80]
Hold the men in front of the city gates.
Move around through the entire army,
before men run off, fall into their women's arms,
something that would make our enemies rejoice.
Then, once you've restored the spirits 100
in all our ranks, we'll stand right here,
fight Danaans, no matter how hard we're pressed.
For then we'll have no other option.
And you, Hector, go into the city.
Speak to our mother, yours and mine.
Tell her to assemble the old women
at the temple of bright-eyed Athena,
on the city heights. She should take the key,
open the doors of the sacred building,
then place in the lap of the goddess there, 110 [90]
fair-haired Athena, the garment she thinks
loveliest, the greatest in the palace,
the one she likes far above the others.
Tell her to promise Athena she'll give
twelve heifers in a temple sacrifice,
yearlings, as yet untouched by any goad,
if she will pity Troy, pity the wives,
young Trojan children, if she will keep
Tydeus' son away from sacred Ilion,
that fierce spearman, powerful fighter, 120
who makes men afraid--in my opinion,
the mightiest of all Achaeans.
We didn't fear Achilles, chief of men,
like this, although they say a goddess [100]
was his mother. But this man's fighting rage
has no equal. We can't match his power."

Helenus spoke. Hector was convinced by his advice.
At once he jumped down from his chariot to the ground,
clutching his weapons. Brandishing two sharp spears,
he moved through all the army, urging men to fight, 130
rousing their spirits for the harsh reality of war.
So men wheeled round, stood facing Achaean soldiers.
Argives then drew back, stopped their slaughter,
thinking that one of the immortal gods had come,
descending from starry heaven to help the Trojans,
enabling them to turn themselves around and fight.
Hector then ordered Trojans, shouting out: [110]

"You proud Trojans, wide-renowned allies,
friends, be men, summon up your fighting strength,
while I go to Troy in person, to instruct 140
the old men of the council and our wives
to pray to the gods, promising sacrifice."

With these words, Hector of the shining helmet moved off.
As he went, black leather running round the outer edge
on his studded shield struck his neck and ankles.

Then Glaucus, son of Hippolochus, and Diomedes
moved out together between the armies, keen to fight. [120]
When they'd come to close quarters, facing each other,
Diomedes, expert in war cries, was the first to speak:

"Who are you, my dear man, among mortal men? 150
For I've never clapped eyes on you before,
in those fights where men win glory.
But now you've stepped out well beyond the ranks,
showing more courage here than anyone,
standing up to my long-shadowed spear.
Men who face me end up with grieving parents.
If you're one of the immortal gods,
come down from heaven, I won't fight you.
Even mighty Lycurgus, son of Dryas, [130]
did not live long, once he started battling 160
heavenly gods. He was the one who chased
attendants of frenzied Dionysus,
forcing them across holy Mount Nysa.
They all threw their sacred wands onto the ground,
as murderous Lycurgus kept beating them
with an ox-whip. Even Dionysus,
terrified, jumped in the ocean waves.
Thetis embraced him, as he shook with fear,
intimidated by Lycurgus' threats.
He angered the gods, who live without a care, 170
So the son of Cronos blinded him.
He didn't live much longer, not once he'd made
all the deathless gods displeased with him. [140]
So I don't want to battle sacred gods.
But if you're a mortal man, someone
who eats earth's fruit, approach closer,
so you can meet your death more quickly."

Glaucus, fine son of Hippolochus, then replied:

"Son of Tydeus, great-hearted Diomedes,
why ask me about my ancestry? 180
Generations of men are like the leaves.
In winter, winds blow them down to earth,
but then, when spring season comes again,
budding wood grows more. And so with men--
one generation grows, another dies away.
But if you wish to learn about my family, [150]
so you're familiar with my lineage,
well, many people know the details.
There is a city in a part of Argos,
land where horses breed, a place called Ephyra. 190
There Sisyphus lived, craftiest man ever born,
Sisyphus, Aeolus' son. He had a son,
Glaucus, father of handsome Bellerophon.
The gods made Bellerophon so beautiful,
gave him the best qualities of manhood.
But Proetus, in his heart, plotted against him,
driving him from Argos, being much stronger,
for Zeus had given royal power to Proetus.
Now, Proetus' wife, lady Antea, [160]
desperate to have sex with Bellerophon, 200
wanted him to lie with her in secret.
But fiery Bellerophon refused,
for he possessed an honourable heart.
So Antea made up lies, telling Proetus,
the king, 'You'll be murdered, Proetus,
unless you assassinate Bellerophon,
who wants to have sex with me against my will.'
Proetus was overcome with anger
at what he'd heard, but was reluctant
to kill Bellerophon--in his heart 210
he shrank from such an evil act.
He sent Bellerophon to Lycia,
with a lethal message, coded symbols
inscribed on a folded tablet. These told
many lies about Bellerophon.
Proetus told him to give the message
to his father-in-law, so he'd be killed. [170]
Bellerophon went off to Lycia,
under safe conduct from the gods.
When in Lycia he reached the river Xanthus. 220
He was honoured fully by the Lycian king,
with nine days of welcome entertainment,
nine sacrificial oxen. The tenth day,
when rose-fingered Dawn appeared,
the Lycian king questioned Bellerophon,
asking to see the message he had brought
from Proetus, his father-in-law.
Once he'd received the evil message
from his son-in-law, he told Bellerophon,
first of all, to kill the Chimera, 230
an invincible monster, inhuman, [180]
but divine in origin. Its front part was a lion,
its rear a snake's tail, in between a goat.
She breathed deadly rage, in searing fire.
But Bellerophon killed the Chimera,
putting his trust in omens from the gods.
Next, he battled the Solymi, the worst fight,
they say, he ever had with mortal beings.
Then, third, he massacred the Amazons,
women who rival men. The king planned 240
one more devious evil trick against him,
as he was returning from the Amazons,
setting an ambush with Lycia's best men.
But none of them came back again--
worthy Bellerophon killed them all. [190]
Then the king knew he must be divinely born.
So he kept him with him there in Lycia,
gave him his daughter's hand in marriage,
half the honours in the entire kingdom.
The Lycians gave him an estate 250
far better than the rest, rich in vineyards,
wheat-growing farmland, to have as his own.
The king's daughter bore him three children--
Isander, Hippolochus, Laodamia.
Counsellor Zeus had sex with the girl.
She bore glorious Sarpedon, bronze-armed warrior.
But then Bellerophon angered all the gods. [200]
He wandered alone on the Alean plain,
depressed in spirit, roaming around, shunning all.
Ares, insatiable in war, then killed his son Isander, 260
while he was fighting the famous Solymi.
Artemis, goddess with the golden reins,
in anger killed the daughter of Bellerophon.
Hippolochus was my father. I claim
my descent from him. He sent me to Troy,
telling me repeatedly to strive always
to excel, outdo all other warriors,
so I did not shame my father's family,
the finest men by far in Ephyra,
in spacious Lycia. That's my lineage, 270 [210]
the blood ancestry I claim as mine."

Glaucus spoke. Diomedes, skilled at war cries, rejoiced.
He jabbed his spear into the life-giving earth,
then addressed that shepherd of his people as a friend:

"In that case, you're an old friend of my father.
For Oeneus once played host to Bellerophon,
that worthy man, for twenty days in his home.
The two of them exchanged fine presents.
Oeneus gave a shining purple belt,
Bellerophon a gold two-handled cup, 280 [220]
which I left in my house when I came here.
I have no memory of Tydeus,
for he died while far away from me,
killed at Thebes with the Achaean army.
Now I'll be your kind host in middle Argos,
you'll be mine in Lycia, when I visit you.
Let's make sure we avoid each other's spears,
even in the thick of all the fighting.
For there are many famous Trojans and allies
for me to kill, any warrior the gods provide, 290
whom I can run after and catch on foot.
For you there are many Achaeans to destroy,
all you can manage. So let's exchange armour. [230]
Then those men here will all recognize
that we pay tribute to our father's friendship."

With these words, the two men jumped from their chariots,
clasped hands and pledged their mutual friendship.
Then Zeus, son of Cronos, stole Glaucus' wits,
for he gave Tydeus' son his golden armour,
worth one hundred oxen, exchanging that 300
for armour made of bronze, worth only nine.

Meanwhile, Hector reached the Scaean Gates and oak tree.
The Trojans' wives and daughters ran up round him,
asking after children, brothers, relatives, husbands.
Addressing each of them in turn, he ordered them [240]
to pray to the gods. For many were to face great grief.
He came to Priam's splendid palace, with porticos
of polished stone. It had fifty private bed rooms,
all of polished stone, built close to one another,
where Priam's sons slept with their married wives. 310
On the opposite side, within the courtyard,
were twelve roofed rooms made of polished stone
for Priam's daughters, built near one another,
where Priam's sons-in-law slept with the wives they married. [250]
Here Hector's gracious mother, Hecuba,
met him, as she was going to the palace,
with Laodice, loveliest of all her daughters.
Taking his hand, she spoke to Hector:

"My child,
why have you left hard battle to come here?
The sons of Achaea--may the gods curse them!-- 320
press us hard, eager to fight around our city.
Your spirit has led you here to lift your hands
in prayers to Zeus from our city heights.
But wait. I can fetch some sweet wine for you,
so you can begin by pouring a libation
to father Zeus and the rest of the immortal gods.
Then you may enjoy some, too, if you'll drink. [260]
Wine restores strength well in a weary man,
and you've grown tired guarding your family."

Great Hector of the shining helmet then replied: 330

"My dear mother, don't bring me some sweet wine,
for you'll weaken me. I'll lose my battle power.
And I'm ashamed to offer up to Zeus
libations of gleaming wine, with unwashed hands.
It's not at all appropriate for a man
spattered with blood and dirt to offer prayers
to the son of Cronos, lord of the black clouds.
But you must go to the temple of Athena,
goddess of battle spoils, with burnt offerings.
First assemble together the old women, 340 [270]
then place in the lap of the goddess,
fair-haired Athena, the garment you think
loveliest, the greatest in the palace,
the one you like far better than all the rest.
Then you must promise Athena you'll give
twelve heifers in a temple sacrifice,
yearlings, as yet untouched by any goad,
if she will pity Troy, pity the wives,
young Trojan children, if she will keep
Tydeus' son away from sacred Ilion, 350
that fierce spearman, powerful fighter,
who makes men afraid. So now you must go,
proceed to the temple of Athena,
goddess of battle spoils. I'll find Paris,
call him back, if he wants to listen to me. [280]
If only the earth would open under him,
swallow him up! Olympian Zeus raised him
as trouble for Trojans, for great-hearted Priam,
for his children. If I could see Paris die,
heading down to Hades, then I could say 360
my heart's sorrows were over and forgotten."

Hector spoke. His mother went into the house,
calling her attendants, who brought together
the matrons from the city. Then she went down
into the sweet-smelling room which stored their gowns,
fine embroidered work of women from Sidonia,
which godlike Paris brought with him from Sidon, [290]
when he sailed across the broad sea, on that voyage
where he carried off high-born Helen. Hecuba took out
one of the gowns, the finest embroidery, the largest. 370
Glittering like a star, it lay at the bottom of the chest.
She took that as her gift to Athena, walked away,
the old ladies following her. At Athena's temple
fair-cheeked Theano, daughter of Cisseus,
wife of horse-taming Antenor, let them in.
Trojans had appointed her Athena's priestess. [300]
All the women raised hands, as they prayed to Athena,
while Theano took that lovely robe and placed it
in Athena's lap, the goddess with the lovely hair
then spoke out this prayer to great Zeus' daughter: 380

"Blessed Athena, sacred goddess,
defender of our city, break the spear
of Diomedes. Let him fall face down
before the Scaean Gates. If so, right now,
we'll sacrifice twelve heifers in your temple,
beasts untouched by any goad, if you'll pity
our city, Trojans' wives, small children." [310]

The women prayed. But Pallas Athena refused them.
As they made their plea to great Zeus' daughter,
Hector went to the fine house of Alexander. 390
He'd built it himself with fertile Troy's best craftsmen.
They'd made him a bedroom, apartment, courtyard,
close to Priam and Hector, on the city height.
Hector, loved by Zeus, went in the house, holding his spear,
eleven cubits long, bronze point glittering in front of him, [320]
a gold band running round it. He met Alexander,
busy in his room with his fine weapons, shield,
his body armour, polishing his curved bow.
Argive Helen sat there, too, with ladies-in-waiting,
directing her servants in their famous handicrafts. 400
Seeing Paris, Hector spoke some sharp words to him:

"Paris, you're a worthless man.
It's quite wrong of you to nurse that anger
in your heart, while men are being destroyed,
fighting round the city, its steep walls.
It's because of you the sounds of warfare
catch fire round our city. You would fight
any man you saw avoiding battle, [330]
fleeing war's brutality. So up with you,
or soon our city will be consumed, 410
fire destroying everything."

Godlike Alexander then replied:

"Hector, your rebuke is not unfair,
without reason. So I'll speak plainly.
Listen and remember what I'm saying.
I'm not sitting here in my bedroom
out of anger or spite against the Trojans.
I want to grieve. Just now my wife urged me,
using gentle words, to rouse myself to fight.
And personally I think that would be best.
For victory shifts from one man to another. 420
Now, wait here while I put on battle armour. [340]
Or go and I'll come later. I'll catch up with you."

Hector of the shining helmet did not reply.
Helen spoke to Hector, with soothing words:

"Hector, you're my brother,
and I'm a horrible, conniving bitch.
I wish that on that day my mother bore me
some evil whirlwind had come, carried me off,
swept me away up into the mountains,
or into waves of the tumbling, crashing sea, 430
which would've killed me before this happened.
But since gods have ordained these evil things,
I wish I'd been wife to a better man, [350]
someone sensitive to others' insults,
with feeling for his many shameful acts.
This husband of mine has no sense now,
and he won't acquire any in the future.
I expect he'll get from that what he deserves.
But come in, sit on this chair, my brother,
since this trouble really weighs upon your mind-- 440
all because I was a bitch--because of that
and Paris' folly, Zeus gives us an evil fate,
so we may be subjects for men's songs
in generations yet to come."

Great Hector of the shining helmet answered Helen:

"Don't ask me to sit down, Helen. You're kind, [360]
but you won't persuade me. For my heart's on fire
to help the Trojans, who miss me greatly when I'm gone.
But you must rouse Paris, and he, too, should hurry,
so he can catch up with me inside the city. 450
I'm going home, to visit my house, dear wife,
my infant son, for I've no idea
whether I'll return, come back to them again,
or if the gods will kill me at Achaean hands."

Saying this, Hector of the shining helmet went away.
Soon afterwards he reached his well-built house. [370]
He didn't find white-armed Andromache at home,
for she'd left with the infant child, going to the walls
with a well-dressed attendant, in tears, lamenting.
When Hector didn't meet his fair wife in the house, 460
he went and, standing in the doorway, asked his servant:

"Woman, tell me the truth. Where's Andromache?
At one of my sisters? With a well-dressed wife
of one of my brothers? Or is she at Athena's temple,
where the other fine-haired Trojan women
are praying to that fearful goddess?" [380]

His busy housekeeper then answered him:

"Hector, you asked me to tell you the truth.
She didn't go to one of your sisters,
or one of your brothers' well-dressed wives, 470
nor did she go to Athena's temple,
where other fine-haired Trojan women
are praying to that fearful goddess.
She went to Ilion's great tower,
for she'd heard Trojans were hard pressed,
the power of Achaeans was so great.
So she's hurrying off to the walls,
like someone in a fit. A nurse went, too,
carrying the child."

Once the housekeeper spoke, [390]
Hector left the house by the same route he'd come, 480
through the well-built city streets, across the great city,
and reached the Scaean Gates, beyond which he'd go
out into the plain. There his wife ran up to meet him,
Andromache, daughter of great-hearted Eetion,
who'd included a large dowry with her.
Eetion had lived below wooded Mount Placus,
in Thebe, king of Cilician people. So she'd become
married wife to Hector of the shining helmet.
Now she met him there. With her came the nurse,
holding at her breast their happy infant child, 490 [400]
well-loved son of Hector, like a beautiful star.
Hector had named him Scamandrius, but others
called him Astyanax, lord of the city,
because Hector was Troy's only guardian.
Hector looked at his son in silence, with a smile.
Andromache stood close to him, weeping.
Taking Hector by the hand, she spoke to him.

"My dear husband, your warlike spirit
will be your death. You've no compassion
for your infant child, for me, your sad wife, 500
who before long will be your widow.
For soon the Achaeans will attack you,
all together, cut you down. As for me, [410]
it would be better, if I'm to lose you,
to be buried in the ground. For then I'll have
no other comfort, once you meet your death,
except my sorrow. I have no father,
no dear mother. For lord Achilles killed
my father, when he destroyed Thebe,
city with high gates, slaying Eetion. 510
But he didn't strip his corpse--his heart
felt too much shame for that. So he burned him
in his finely decorated armour,
raised a burial mound over the ashes.
Mountain nymphs, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, [420]
planted elm trees all around his body.
I had seven brothers in my home.
All went down to Hades in one day,
for swift-footed lord Achilles killed them all,
while they were guarding their shambling oxen, 520
their white, shining sheep. As for my mother,
who ruled wooded Thebe-under-Placus,
he brought her here with his other spoils.
Then he released her for a massive ransom.
But archer goddess Artemis killed her
in her father's house. So, Hector, you are now
my father, noble mother, brother, [430]
my protecting husband. So pity me.
Stay here in this tower. Don't orphan your child,
widow your wife. Place troops by the fig tree, 530
where the city is most vulnerable,
the wall most easily scaled. Three times
their best men have come there, tried an attack,
led by the two Ajaxes, the sons of Atreus,
famous Idomeneus, and Diomedes,
Tydeus' courageous son, incited to it
by someone well versed in prophecy
or by their own hearts' inclination."

Great Hector of the shining helmet replied:

"Wife, [440]
all this concerns me, too. But I'd be disgraced, 540
dreadfully shamed among Trojan men,
and Trojan women in their trailing gowns,
if I should slink away from war, like a coward.
My heart will never prompt me to do that,
for I have learned always to be brave,
to fight alongside Trojans at the front,
striving to win great fame for my father, for myself.
My heart and mind know well the day is coming
when sacred Ilion will be destroyed,
along with Priam of the fine ash spear, 550
Priam's people. But what pains me most
about these future sorrows is not so much [450]
the Trojans, Hecuba, or king Priam,
or even my many noble brothers,
who'll fall down in the dust, slaughtered
by their enemies. My pain concerns you,
when one of the bronze-clad Achaeans
leads you off in tears, ends your days of freedom.
If then you come to Argos as a slave,
working the loom for some other woman, 560
fetching water from Messeis, Hypereia,
much against your will, forced by powerful
necessity, then someone, seeing you,
as you weep, may well say: 'That woman
is the wife of Hector, who was the best [460]
in battle of all horse-taming Trojans,
when they fought for Troy.' Someone will say that,
and it will bring still more grief to you,
to be without such a man to save you
from days of servitude. May I lie dead, 570
hidden under a burial mound,
before I hear about your screaming,
as you are dragged away."

With these words,
glorious Hector stretched his hands out for his son.
The boy immediately shrank back against the breast
of the finely girdled nurse, crying out, terrified
to see his own dear father, scared at the sight of bronze,
the horse-hair plume nodding fearfully from his helmet top. [470]
The child's loving father laughed, his noble mother, too.
Glorious Hector pulled the glittering helmet off, 580
set it on the ground. Then he kissed his dear son,
holding him in his arms. He prayed aloud to Zeus
and the rest of the immortals.

"Zeus, all you other gods,
grant that this child, my son, may become,
like me, pre-eminent among the Trojans,
as strong, as brave as me. Grant that he may rule
Troy with strength. May people someday say,
as he returns from war, 'This man is far better
than his father.' May he carry back
bloody spoils from his slaughtered enemy, 590 [480]
making his mother's heart rejoice."

He placed his son in the hands of his dear wife.
She embraced the child on her sweet breast, smiling
through her tears. Observing her, Hector felt compassion.
He took her hand, then spoke to her.

"My dearest wife,
don't let your heart be sad on my account.
No man will throw me down to Hades
before my destined time. I tell you this--
no one escapes his fate, not the coward,
nor the brave man, from the moment of his birth. 600
So you should go into the house, keep busy [490]
with your own work, with your loom and wool,
telling your servants to go about their tasks.
War will be every man's concern, especially mine,
of all those who live in Troy."

Having said these words,
glorious Hector picked up his plumed helmet.
His beloved wife went home, often looking back,
as she went, crying bitterly. She quickly reached
the spacious home of Hector, killer of men.
Inside she met her many servants, bid them all lament. 610
So they mourned for Hector in his own house, [500]
though he was still alive, for they thought he'd not come back
from battle, escape the battle fury of Achaean hands.

Paris did not wait long in his high-roofed home.
Once he'd pulled on his famous armour, ornate bronze,
he hurried off on foot quickly through the city.
Just as some stalled stallion, well fed in the barn,
breaks his restraints, then gallops at top speed
across the plain, going to bathe in a fair-flowing river,
something he does habitually, proud of his strength, 620
holding his head high, mane streaming on his shoulders, [510]
legs taking him swiftly to the grazing mares--
that's how Paris, son of Priam, hurried then,
rushing down from the heights of Pergamus,
gleaming like a ray of sunshine in his armour,
laughing with joy as his feet carried him so fast.
He soon met his brother Hector, turning away
from where he'd been talking with his wife.
Godlike Paris was the first to speak:

"My dear brother, you're in a hurry. 630
I'm holding you back with my delay,
not coming as quickly as you asked."

Hector of the shining helmet answered Paris: [520]

"Brother, no one could justly criticize
your work in battle, for you fight bravely.
But you deliberately hold back,
unwilling to fight. It pains my heart,
when I hear shameful things about you
from Trojans, who suffer much distress
because of you. But let's be on our way. 640
We'll sort all this out later, if Zeus ever grants
we set in place inside our own homes
bowls of wine to celebrate our freedom,
in thanks to eternal, heavenly gods,
once we have driven away from Troy
all these well-armed Achaeans."