The Illiad - Book 1

The Iliad is one of two major ancient Greek epic poems attributed to Homer. It is one of the oldest extant works of literature still widely read by modern audiences. As with the Odyssey, the poem is divided into 24 books and was written in a dactylic hexameter.

Set towards the end of the Trojan War, a ten-year siege of the city of Troy by a coalition of Mycenaean Greek states, the poem depicts significant events in the siege's final weeks. In particular, it depicts a fierce quarrel between King Agamemnon and a celebrated warrior, Achilles. It is a central part of the Epic Cycle. The Iliad is often regarded as the first substantial piece of European literature.

Transcript

The Iliad by Homer.

Book I.

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 the prey to dogs and vultures.

For so were the counsels of Jove,

Fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus,

King of man,

And great Achilles,

First fell out with one another.

And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel?

It was the son of Jove and Leto.

For he was angry with the king,

And sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people,

As the son of Atreus had dishonored Crisis his priest.

Now Crisis had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter,

And had brought with him a great ransom.

Moreover he bore in his hand the scepter of Apollo,

Wreathed with the suppliant's wreath,

And he besought the Achaeans,

But most of all the two sons of Atreus,

Who were their chiefs.

Sons of Atreus,

He cried,

And all other Achaeans,

May the gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam,

And to reach your homes in safety.

But free my daughter,

And accept a ransom for her,

In reverence to Apollo,

Son of Jove.

On this the rest of the Achaeans,

With one voice,

Were for respecting the priest,

And taking the ransom that he offered.

But not so Agamemnon,

Who spoke fiercely to him,

And sent him roughly away.

Old man,

Said he,

Let me not find you tearing about our ships,

Nor yet coming hereafter.

Your scepter of the god,

And your wreath shall profit you nothing.

I will not free her.

She shall grow old in my house at Argos,

Far from her own home,

Busying herself with her loom,

And visiting my couch.

So go,

And do not provoke me,

Or it shall be the worse for you.

The old man feared him,

And obeyed.

Not a word he spoke,

But went by the shore of the sounding sea,

And prayed a part to King Apollo,

Whom lovely Leto had borne.

Hear me,

He cried,

O god of the silver bow,

That protects Chrysa,

And holy Scylla,

And rulest Thanatos with thy might.

Hear me,

O thou of Smynthe.

If I have ever decked your temple with garlands,

Or burned your thigh bones in fat of bulls or goats,

Grant my prayer,

And let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Danans.

Thus did he pray,

And Apollo heard his prayer.

He came down furious from the summits of Olympus,

With his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder,

And the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him.

He sat himself down away from the ships,

With a face as dark as night,

And his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them.

First he smote their mules and their hounds,

But presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves,

And all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.

For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people,

But upon the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly,

Moved thereto by Juno,

Who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes,

And had compassion upon them.

Then when they were got together,

He rose and spoke among them.

Son of Atreus,

Said he,

I deem that we should now turn roving home if we would escape destruction,

For we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once.

Let us ask some priest or prophet,

Or some reader of dreams,

For dreams too are of Jove,

Who can tell us why phobius Apollo is so angry,

And say whether it is for some vow that we have broken,

Or hecatomb that we have not offered,

Or whether he will accept the savers of lambs and goats without blemish,

So as to take away the plague from us.

With these words he sat down,

And Colchas,

Son of Thestor,

Wisest of augurs,

Who knew things past,

Present,

And to come,

Rose to speak.

He it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius,

Through the prophesying with which phobus Apollo had inspired him.

With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them thus.

Achilles,

Loved of heaven,

You bid me to tell you about the anger of King Apollo.

I will therefore do so.

But consider first,

And swear,

That you will stand by me heartily in word and deed.

For I know that I shall offend one who rules the Argives with might,

To whom all of the Achaeans are in subjection.

A plain man cannot stand against the anger of a king,

Whom if he swallow his displeasure now will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it.

Consider therefore whether or no you will protect me.

And Achilles answered,

Fear not,

But speak as it is borne in upon you from heaven.

For by Apollo,

Colchas,

To whom you pray,

And whose oracles you reveal to us,

Not a Danan at our ships shall lay his hands upon you,

While I yet live to look upon the face of the earth.

No,

Not though you name Agamemnon himself,

Who is by far the foremost of the Achaeans.

Herion the seer spoke boldly.

The god,

He said,

Is angry neither about Vau nor Hecatomb,

But for his priest's sake,

Whom Agamemnon has dishonored,

In that he would not free his daughter nor take a ransom for her.

Nor has he sent these evils upon us,

And will yet send others.

He will not deliver the Danans from this pestilence till Agamemnon has restored the girl without fee or ransom to her father,

And has sent a holy Hecatomb to Chryse.

Thus we may perhaps appease him.

These words he sat down,

And Agamemnon rose in anger.

His heart was black with rage,

And his eyes flashed fire as he scowled on Calchas,

And he said,

Seer of evil,

You never yet prophesized smooth things concerning me,

But have ever loved to foretell that which was evil.

You have brought me neither comfort nor performance,

And now you come seeing among Danans,

And saying that Apollo has plagued us because I would not take a ransom for this girl,

The daughter of Chryse's,

I have set my heart on keeping her in my own house,

For I love her better than even my own wife,

Clytemnestra,

Whose peer she is alike in form and feature,

In understanding and accomplishments.

Still,

I will give her up if I must,

For I would have the people live,

Not die.

But you must find me a prize instead,

Or I alone among the Argives shall be without one.

This is not well.

For you behold,

All of you,

That my prize is to go elsewither.

And Achilles answered,

Most noble son of Atreus,

Covetous beyond all mankind,

How shall the Achaeans find you another prize?

We have no common store from which to take one.

Those we took from the cities have been awarded.

We cannot disallow the award that has been made already.

Give this girl,

Therefore,

To the god.

And if ever Jove grants us to sack the city of Troy,

We will require you three and fourfold.

Then Agamemnon said,

Achilles,

Valiant though you may be,

You shall not thus outwit me.

You shall not overreach,

And you shall not persuade me.

Are you to keep your own prize,

While I sit tamely under my loss and give up the girl at your bidding?

Let the Achaeans find me a prize in fair exchange to my liking,

Or I will come and take your throne,

Or that of Ajax,

Or of Ulysses,

And he to whomsoever I may come shall rue my coming.

But of this we will take thought hereafter.

For the present,

Let us draw a ship into the sea,

And find a crew for her expressly.

Let us put a hecatomb on board,

And let us send Criseys also.

Further,

Let some chief men among us be in command,

Either Ajax,

Or Idomeneus,

Or yourself,

Son of Pileus,

Mighty warrior that you are,

That we may offer sacrifice,

And appease the anger of the god.

Achilles scowled at him and answered,

You are steeped in insolence and lust of gain.

With what heart can any of the Achaeans do your bidding,

Either on foray or in open fighting?

I come not worrying here for any ill the Trojans had done to me.

I have no quarrel with them.

They have not raided my cattle nor my horses,

Nor cut down my harvests on the rich plains of Thea.

For between me and them there is a great space,

Both mountain and sounding sea.

We have followed you,

Sir Insolence,

For your pleasure,

Not ours,

To gain satisfaction from the Trojans,

For your shameless self,

And for Menelao.

You forget this,

And threaten to rob me of the prize for which I have toiled,

And which the sons of the Achaeans have given me.

Never when the Achaeans sack any rich city of the Trojans do I receive so good a prize as you do,

Though it is my hands that do the better part of the fighting.

When the sharing comes,

Your share is by far the largest,

And I,

Forsooth,

Must go back to my ships,

Take what I can,

And be thankful,

When my labor of fighting is done.

Now therefore I shall go back to Thea.

It will be much better for me to return home with my ships,

For I will not stay here dishonored to gather gold and substance for you.

" And Agamemnon answered,

Fly,

If you will.

I shall make you no prayers to stay you.

I have others here who will do me honor,

And above all Jove,

The lord of counsel.

There is no king here so hateful to me as you are,

For you are ever quarrelsome and ill-affected.

What though you be brave?

Was it not heaven that made you so?

Go home,

Then,

With your ships and comrades to lord it over the Myrmidons.

I care neither for you nor for your anger.

And thus will I do,

Since Phobos Apollo is taking Criseyce from me.

I shall send her with my ship and my followers.

But I shall come to your tent and take your own prize,

Briseis,

That you may learn how much stronger I am than you are,

And that another may fear to set himself up as an equal or comparable with me.

The son of Pileus was furious,

And his heart within his shaggy breast was divided whether to draw his sword,

Push the others aside,

And kill the son of Atreus,

Or to restrain himself and check his anger.

While he was thus in two minds,

And was drawing his mighty sword from his scabbard,

Minerva came down from heaven.

Fordunno had sent her in the love she bore to them both,

And seized the son of Pileus by his yellow hair,

Visible to him alone,

For of the others no man could see her.

Achilles turned in amaze,

And by the fire that flashed from her eyes at once he knew that she was Minerva.

"'Why are you here?

' said he,

Daughter of Aegis-bearing Jove.

"'To see the pride of Agamemnon,

Son of Atreus?

Let me tell you,

And it shall surely be he shall pay for his insolence with his life.

' And Minerva said,

"'I come from heaven.

If you will hear me,

To bid you stay your anger.

Fordunno has sent me,

Who cares for both of you alike.

Seize then this brawling,

And do not draw your sword,

Rail at him,

If you will,

And your railings will not be in vain.

For I tell you,

And it shall surely be,

That you shall hereafter receive gifts three times as splendid by reason of this present insult.

Hold therefore,

And obey.

' "'Goddess,

' answered Achilles,

"'however angry a man may be,

He must do as you two command him.

This will be best,

For the gods ever hear the prayers of him who has obeyed them.

' He stayed his hand on the silver hilt of his sword,

And thrust it back into the scabbard as Minerva bade him.

Then she went back to Olympus among the other gods,

And to the house of Aegis-bearing Jove.

But the son of Peleus again began railing at the son of Atreus,

For he was still in a rage.

"'Wine-bibber!

' he cried.

"'With the face of a dog and the heart of a hind,

You never dare to go out with the host and fight,

Nor yet with our chosen man in Ambuscade.

You shun this,

As you do death itself.

You had rather go round and rob his prizes from any man who contradicts you.

You devour your people,

For you are king over a feeble folk.

Otherwise,

Son of Atreus,

Henceforward you would insult no man.

Therefore I say,

And swear it with a great oath,

Nay,

By this my scepter,

Which shall sprout neither leaf nor shoot,

Nor bud anew from the day on which it left its parent stem upon the mountains.

For the axe stripped it of leaf and bark,

And now the sons of the Achaeans bear it as judges and guardians of the decrees of heaven.

So surely and solemnly do I swear,

That hereafter they shall look fondly for Achilles,

And shall not find him.

In the day of your distress,

When your men fall dying by the murderous hand of Hector,

You shall not know how to help them,

And shall rend your heart with rage for the hour when you offered insult to the bravest of the Achaeans.

With this the son of Peleus dashed his gold-bestudded scepter on the ground,

And took his seat,

While the son of Atreus was beginning fiercely from his place upon the other side.

Then up rose smooth-tongued Nestor,

The facile speaker of the Phileans,

And the words fell from his lips sweeter than honey.

Two generations of men born and bred in Peleus had passed away under his rule,

And he was now reigning over the third.

With all sincerity and goodwill,

Therefore,

He addressed them thus.

Of a truth,

He said,

A great sorrow has befallen the Achaean land.

Priam with his sons would rejoice,

And the Trojans be glad at heart if they could hear this quarrel between you two,

Who are so excellent in fight and counsel.

I am older than either of you,

Therefore be guided by me.

Moreover,

I have been the familiar friend of men even greater than you are,

And they did not disregard my counsels.

Never again can I behold such men as Pyrritheus,

Andrias,

Shepherds of his people,

Or as Cainus,

Ixadius,

Godlike Polyphemus,

And Theseus,

Son of Aegeus,

Peer of the immortals.

These were the mightiest men ever born upon this earth.

Mightiest were they,

And when they fought the fiercest tribes,

I fought as it was in me to do.

Not a man now living could withstand them,

But they heard my words,

And were persuaded by them.

So be it I also with yourselves,

For this is the more excellent way.

Therefore,

Agamemnon,

Though you be strong,

Take not this girl away,

For the sons of the Achaeans have already given her to Achilles.

And you,

Achilles,

Strive not further with the king,

For no man who by the grace of Jove willed a scepter has like honor with Agamemnon.

You are strong,

And have a goddess for your mother,

But Agamemnon is stronger than you,

For he has more people under him.

Son of Atreus,

Check your anger,

I implore you,

End this quarrel with Achilles,

Who in the day of battle is a tower of strength to the Achaeans.

And Agamemnon answered,

Sir,

All that you have said is true,

But this fellow must needs become our lord and master.

He must be lord of all,

King of all,

And captain of all,

And this shall hardly be.

Granted that the gods have made him a great warrior,

Have they also given him right to speak with railing?

Achilles interrupted him.

I should be a mean coward,

He cried,

Were I to give in to you in all things.

Order other people about,

Not me,

For I shall obey no longer.

Furthermore,

I say,

And lay my saying to your heart,

I shall fight neither you nor any man about this girl.

For those that take were those also that gave.

But for all else,

That is it my ship,

You shall carry away nothing by force.

Try that others may see.

If you do,

My spear shall be reddened with your blood.

When they had quarrelled thus angrily,

They rose,

And broke up the assembly at the ships of the Achaeans.

The son of Peleus went back to his tents and ships with the son of Monathias and his company,

While Agamemnon drew a vessel into the water and chose a crew of twenty oarsmen.

He escorted Chryseis on board,

And sent moreover a hecatomb for the god,

And Ulysses went as captain.

These then went on board and sailed their ways over the sea.

But the son of Atreus bade the people purify themselves,

So they purified themselves and cast their filth into the sea.

Then they offered hecatombs of bulls and goats,

Without blemish,

On the sea shore.

And the smoke with the savor of their sacrifice rose curling up towards heaven.

Thus did they busy themselves throughout the host,

But Agamemnon did not forget the threat that he had made Achilles,

And called his trusty messengers and squires,

Telphibus and Eurybates.

Go,

Said he,

To the tent of Achilles,

Son of Peleus.

Take Briseis by the hand and bring her hither.

If he will not give her,

I shall come with others and take her,

Which will press him harder.

He charged them straightly further and dismissed them.

Later on they went their way sorrowfully by the seaside,

Till they came to the tents and ships of the Myrmidons.

They found Achilles sitting by his tent and his ships,

And ill-pleased he was when he beheld them.

They stood fearfully and reverently before him,

And never a word did they speak,

But he knew them and said,

Welcome,

Heralds,

Messengers of gods and men.

Draw near.

My quarrel is not with you,

But with Agamemnon,

Who has sent you for the girl Briseis.

Therefore,

Patroclus,

Bring her and give her to them,

But let them be witnessed by the blessed gods,

By mortal men,

And by the fierceness of Agamemnon's anger.

But if ever again there be need of me to save the people from ruin,

They shall seek and they shall not find.

Agamemnon is mad with rage and knows not how to look before and after that the Achaeans may fight by their ships and safety.

Patroclus did as his dear comrade had bid him.

He brought Briseis from the tent and gave her over to the heralds,

Who took her with them to the ships of the Achaeans,

And the woman was loth to go.

Then Achilles went all alone by the side of the whore sea,

Weeping and looking out upon the boundless waste of waters.

He raised his hands in prayer to his immortal mother.

Mother,

He cried,

You bore me doomed to live but for a little season.

Surely Jove,

Who thunders from Olympus,

Might have made that little glorious.

It is not so.

Agamemnon,

Son of Atreus,

Has done me dishonored,

And has robbed me of my prize by force.

As he spoke,

He wept aloud,

And his mother heard him where she was sitting in the depths of the sea,

Hard by the old man,

Her father.

Forthwith she rose,

As it were a gray mist out of the waves,

Sat down before him as he stood weeping,

Caressed him with her hand,

And said,

My son,

Why are you weeping?

What is it that grieves you?

Keep it not from me,

But tell me,

That we may know it together.

Atreus drew a deep sigh,

And said,

You know it.

Why tell you what you know well already?

We went to Thebe,

The strong city of Aetion,

Sacked it,

And brought hither the spoil.

The sons of the Achaeans shared it duly among themselves,

And chose lovely Chryseis as the mead of Agamemnon.

But Chryseis,

Priest of Apollo,

Came to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter,

And brought with him a great ransom.

Moreover he bore in his hand the scepter of Apollo,

Wreathed with a suppliant's wreath,

And he besought the Achaeans,

But most of all the two sons of Atreus,

Who were their chiefs.

On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice swore for respecting the priest,

And taking the ransom that he offered.

But not so Agamemnon,

Who spoke fiercely to him,

And sent him roughly away.

So he went back in anger,

And Apollo,

Who loved him dearly,

Heard his prayer.

Then the god sent a deadly dart upon the Argives,

And the people died thick on one another.

For the arrows went every whither among the wide host of the Achaeans.

At last a seer,

In the fullness of his knowledge,

Declared to us the oracles of Apollo,

And I was myself first to say that we should appease him.

Whereon the son of Atreus rose in anger,

And threatened that which he has since done.

The Achaeans are now taking the girl in a ship to Chryse,

And sending gifts of sacrifice to the god.

But the heralds have just taken from my tender daughter of Briseis,

Whom the Achaeans had awarded to myself.

Help your brave son therefore,

If you are able.

Go to Olympus,

And if you have ever done him service in word or deed,

Implore the aid of Jove.

Oft times in my father's house have I heard you glory in that you alone of the immortals saved the son of Saturn from ruin,

When the others,

With Juno,

Neptune,

And Pallas Minerva,

Would have put him in bonds.

It was you,

Goddess,

Who delivered him by calling to Olympus,

The hundred-handed monster whom gods called Briarius,

But man Aegon,

For he is stronger even than his father.

When therefore he took his seat,

All glorious beside the son of Saturn,

The other gods were afraid,

And did not bind him.

Go then to him,

Remind him all of this,

Clasp his knees,

And bid him give succor to the Trojans.

Let the Achaeans be hemmed in at the sterns of their ships,

And perish on the sea-shore,

That they may reap what joy they may of their king,

And that Agamemnon may rue his blindness in offering insult to the foremost of the Achaeans.

Thetis wept and answered,

My son,

Woe is me that I should have borne or suckled you.

Would indeed that you had lived your span free from all sorrow at your ships,

For it is all too brief.

Alas,

That you should be at once short of life and long of sorrow above your peers!

Woe,

Therefore,

Was the hour in which I bore you.

Nevertheless,

I will go to the snowy heights of Olympus,

And tell this tale to Jove,

If he will hear our prayer.

Meanwhile stay where you are with your ships,

Nurse your anger against the Achaeans,

And hold aloof from fight.

For Jove went yesterday to Oceanus,

To a feast among the Ethiopians,

And the other gods went with him.

He will return to Olympus twelve days hence.

I will then go to his mansion paved with bronze,

And will besiege him.

Nor do I doubt that I shall be able to persuade him.

On this she left him,

Still furious at the loss of her that had been taken from him.

Meanwhile Ulysses reached Crici with the Hecatomb.

When they had come inside the harbor they furled the sails and laid them in the ship's hold.

They slackened the forestays,

Lowered the mast into its place,

And rowed the ship to the place where they would have her lie.

There they cast out their mooring stones,

And made fast the hosers.

They then got out upon the sea shore and landed the Hecatomb for Apollo.

Crisces also left the ship,

And Ulysses led her to the altar to deliver her into the hands of her father.

Crisces,

Said he,

King Agamemnon has sent me to bring you back your child,

And to offer sacrifice to Apollo on behalf of the Danans,

That we may propitiate the god,

Who has now brought sorrow upon the Argives.

So saying he gave the girl over to her father,

Who received her gladly,

And they arranged the holy Hecatomb all orderly round the altar of the god.

They washed their hands and took up the barley meal to sprinkle over the victims,

While Crisces lifted up his hands and prayed aloud on their behalf.

Hear me,

He cried,

O God of the silver bow,

That protects Christ and holy Scylla,

And rulest Thanados with thy might.

Even as thou didst hear me a fourth time when I prayed,

And didst press hardly upon the Achaeans,

So hear me yet again,

And stay this fearful pestilence from the Danans.

Thus did he pray,

And Apollo heard his prayer.

When they had done praying and sprinkling the barley meal,

They drew back the heads of the victims,

And killed and flayed them.

They cut out the thigh bones,

Wrapped them round in two layers of fat,

Set some pieces of raw meat on the top of them,

And then Crisces laid them on the wood fire,

And poured wine over them,

While the young man stood near him with five pronged spits in their hands.

When the thigh bones were burned,

And they had tasted the inward meats,

They cut the rest up small,

Put the pieces upon the spits,

Roasted them till they were done,

And drew them off.

Then when they had finished their work,

And feast was ready,

They ate it,

And every man had his full share,

So that all were satisfied.

As soon as they had had enough to eat and drink,

Pages filled the mixing-bowl with wine and water,

And handed it round,

After giving every man his drink offering.

Thus all day long the young man worshipped the God with song,

Hymning him and chanting the joyous paean,

And the God took pleasure in their voices.

But when the sun went down and it came on dark,

They laid themselves down to sleep by the stern cables of the ship,

And when the child of morning,

Rosy-fingered dawn,

Appeared they again set sail for the host of the Achaeans.

Apollo sent them a fair wind,

So they raised their mast and hoisted their white sails aloft.

As the sail bellied with the wind,

The ship flew through the deep blue water,

And the foam hissed against her bows as she sped onward.

When they reached the wide-stretching host of the Achaeans,

They drew the vessel ashore,

High and dry upon the sands,

Set her strong props beneath her,

And went their ways to their own tents and ships.

But Achilles abode at his ships,

And nourished his anger.

He went not to the honorable assembly,

And sallied not forth to fight,

But nodded his own heart,

Pinning for battle and the war-cry.

Now after twelve days the immortal gods came back in a body to Olympus,

And Jove led the way.

Thetis was not unmindful of the charge her son had laid upon her,

So she rose from under the sea and went through great heaven with early morning to Olympus,

Where she found the mighty sun of Saturn,

Sitting all alone upon its topmost ridges.

She set herself down before him,

And with her left hand seized his knees,

While with her right she caught him under the chin,

And besought him,

Saying,

Father Jove,

If I ever did you a service in word or deed among the immortals,

Hear my prayers,

And do honor to my son,

Whose life is to be cut short so early.

King Agamemnon has dishonored him by taking his prize and keeping her.

Honor him,

Then yourself,

Olympian lord of the council,

And grant victory to the Trojans,

Till the Achaeans give my son his due,

And load him with riches in requital.

Jove sat for a while silent,

And without a word,

But Thetis still kept firm hold of his knees,

And besought him a second time.

Incline your head,

Said she,

And promise me,

Surely,

Or else deny me,

For you have nothing to fear,

That I may learn how greatly you disdain me.

At this Jove was much troubled,

And answered,

I shall have trouble if you set me quarrelling with Juno,

For she will provoke me with her taunting speeches.

Even now she is always railing at me before the other gods,

And accusing me of giving aid to the Trojans.

Go back now,

Lest she could find out.

I will consider the matter,

And will bring it about as wish.

See,

I incline my head that you believe me.

This is the most solemn that I can give to any god.

I never recall my word,

Or deceive,

Or fail to do what I say,

When I have nodded my head.

As he spoke the son of Saturn bowed his dark brows,

And the ambrosial locks swayed on his immortal head,

Till vast Olympus reeled.

When the pair had thus laid their plans,

They parted,

Jove to his house,

While the goddess quitted the splendor of Olympus,

And plunged into the depths of the sea.

The gods rose from their seats,

Before the coming of their sire.

Not one of them dared to remain sitting,

But all stood up as he came among them.

There,

Then he took his seat.

But Juno,

When she saw him,

Knew that he and the old Merman's daughter,

Silver-footed Thetis,

Had been hatching mischief,

So she at once began to upbraid him.

Trickster,

She cried,

Which of the gods have you been taking into your councils now?

You are always settling matters in secret behind my back,

And have never yet told me if you could help it,

One word of your intentions.

Juno,

Replied the sire of gods and men,

You must not expect to be informed of all my councils.

You are my wife,

But you would find it hard to understand them.

When it is proper for you to hear,

There is no one,

God or man,

Who will be told sooner,

But when I mean to keep a matter to myself,

You must not pry nor ask questions.

Dread son of Saturn,

Answered Juno,

Why are you talking about?

I?

Pry and ask questions?

Never.

I let you have your own way in everything.

Still,

I have a strong misgiving that the old Merman's daughter,

Thetis,

Has been taking you over,

For she was with you and had hold of your knees the selfsame morning.

I believe,

Therefore,

That you have been promising her to give glory to Achilles,

And to kill much people at the ships of the Achaeans.

Wife,

Said Jove,

I can do nothing but you suspect me and find it out.

You will take nothing by it,

For I shall only dislike you the more,

And it will go harder with you.

Granted,

That is as you say,

I mean to have it so.

Sit down and hold your tongue as I bid you,

For I once began to lay my hands about you.

Though all heaven were in your side,

It would profit you nothing.

Upon this Juno was frightened,

So she curbed her stubborn will and sat down in silence.

But the heavenly beings were disquieted throughout the house of Jove,

Till the cunning worksman Volcan began to try and pacify his mother Juno.

It will be intolerable,

Said he,

If you two fall to wrangling and setting heaven in an uproar about a pack of mortals.

If such ill counsels are to prevail,

We shall have no pleasure at our banquet.

Let me then advise my mother,

And she must herself know that it will be better,

To make friends with my dear father Jove,

Lest he again scold her and disturb our feast.

If the Olympian thunderer wants to hurl us all from our seats,

He can do so,

For he is far the strongest.

So give him fair words,

And he will then soon be in good humor with us.

As he spoke,

He took a double cup of nectar and placed it in his mother's hand.

Cheer up,

My dear mother,

Said he,

And make the best of it.

I love you dearly,

And should be very sorry to see you get a thrashing.

However grieved I might be,

I could not help for there is no standing against Jove.

Once before when I was trying to help you,

He caught me by the foot and flung me from the heavenly threshold.

All day long,

From morn till eve,

Was I falling,

Till at sunset I came to ground in the island of Lemnos,

And there I lay,

With very little life left in me,

Till the Scythians came and tended me.

Juno smiled at this,

And as she smiled,

She took the cup from her son's hands.

Then Volkan drew sweet nectar from the mixing-bowl,

And served it round amongst the gods,

Going from left to right.

And the blessed gods laughed out loud,

Applause as they saw him,

Bustling about the heavenly mansion.

Thus through the lifelong day to the going down of the sun they feasted,

And every one had his full share,

So that all were satisfied.

Apollo struck his lyre,

And the muses lifted up their sweet voices,

Calling and answering one another.

But when the sun's glorious light had faded,

They went home to bed,

Each in his own abode,

Which lay in Volkan with his consummate skill had fashion for them.

So Jove,

The Olympian lord of thunder,

Heed him to the bed in which he always slept,

And when he had got on to it,

He went to sleep,

With Juno of the golden throne by his side.

Reviews

I love listening to these stories. Amadeus' voice is calm and steady and helps to provide the perfect background while I'm focusing at work or calming my mind at the end of the day.

I really missed your work Amadeus, thank you for this new recording