The Iliad [Abridged]

That god was Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto.                                                         10

the two sons of Atreus:¹

“Menelaus, Agamemnon, sons of Atreus,

all you well-armed Achaeans, may the gods

on Olympus grant you wipe out Priam’s city,                                            20

and then return home safe and sound.

Release my dear child to me. Take this ransom.

Honour Apollo, far-shooting son of Zeus.”

                                                               “Old man,

don’t let me catch you by our hollow ships,

sneaking back here today or later on.

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.”

He came down from Olympus top enraged,                                                             40

On the tenth, Achilles summoned an assembly.                                                     50

“Son of Atreus,

I fear we’re being beaten back, forced home,

if we aren’t all going to be destroyed right here,

with war and plague killing off Achaeans.

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,                                           60

whether he faults our prayers and offerings,

whether somehow he’ll welcome sacrificial smoke

from perfect lambs and goats, then rouse himself

and release us from this plague.”

“Apollo does not fault us for prayers or offerings,                                   70

but for his priest, disgraced by Agamemnon,

who did not free his daughter and take ransom.

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

at Chryse. If we will carry out all that,

we may change Apollo’s mind, appease him.”                                           80

“Prophet of evil, when have you ever said

good things to me? You love to predict the worst,

always the worst! You never show good news.

Now, in prophecy to the Danaans,

you say archer Apollo brings us pain

because I was unwilling to accept                                                                90

fine ransom for Chryses’ daughter, Chryseis.

But I have a great desire to take her home.

Still, I’m prepared to give her back, if that’s best.

I want the people safe, not all killed off.

But then you’ll owe me another prize.

I won’t be the only Argive left without a gift.

That would be entirely unfair to me.

You all can see my spoils are going elsewhere.”

“Noble son of Atreus, most acquisitive of men,                                       100

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

would be most unfair. Send the girl back now,

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.”

Mighty Agamemnon then said in reply:                                                                   110

“Achilles, you’re a fine man, like a god.

But don’t conceal what’s in your heart.

You’ll not trick me or win me with your words.

You intend to keep your prizes for yourself,

while the army takes my trophy from me.

That’s why you tell me to give Chryseis back.

Let Achaeans give me another prize,

equal in value, something I’ll enjoy.

If not, then I’ll take a prize myself by force,

The man I visit is going to be enraged.                                                       120

But let’s postpone discussion of all this.

Let’s drag a black ship down to the sacred sea,

select a crew, load oxen on for sacrifice,

and Chryseis, that fair-complexioned girl,

so with a sacrifice we may appease

the god who shoots from far away.”

“You insatiable creature, quite shameless.

I didn’t come to battle over here

because of Trojans. I have no fight with them.                                         130

They never stole my bulls or horses,

or razed my crops in fertile Phthia,

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, to win honour from the Trojans—

for you, dog face, and for Menelaus.

You don’t consider this, don’t think at all.

You threaten now to confiscate the prize

I worked so hard for, gift from Achaea’s sons.                                         140

When we Achaeans loot some well-built Trojan town,

my prizes never match the ones you get.

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 I’ll return home now, back to Phthia.

It’s far better to sail back in my curved ships.

I don’t fancy staying here unvalued,

to pile up riches, treasures just for you.”                                                    150

“Fly off home then, if that’s your heart’s desire.

I’ll not beg you to stay on my account.

I have others around to honour me,²

especially all-wise Zeus himself.

Of all the kings Zeus cherishes, it’s you

I hate the most. You love constant strife—

war and combat. So what if you’re strong?

Some god gave you that. So scurry off home.

Take ships and friends. Go rule your Myrmidons.                                     160

I don’t like you or care about your rage.

But I’ll make this threat: I’ll take your prize,

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.”

Should he draw out the sharp sword on his thigh,                                                 170

the dreadful glitter in her eyes. Achilles spoke—                                                    180

“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.                                             190

Fight him with words, so he becomes disgraced.

For I say to you, and this will happen,

because of Agamemnon’s arrogance

some day gifts three times greater than this girl

will be set down before you. Control yourself.

Obey.”

                                                        Obeying Athena’s words,                                  200

“You drunken sot, dog-eyed coward, timid as deer.

A king who gorges on his own people!

You lord it over worthless men. If not,

son of Atreus, this would be your last offence.                                         210

I’ll tell you, swear a great oath on this point,

by this sceptre, which Achaea’s sons take in hand

whenever they do justice in Zeus’ name.

An oath on this has power. On this I swear—

the time will come when Achaea’s sons

all miss Achilles, a time when, in distress,

you’ll lack my help, a time when Hector,

that man killer, destroys many warriors.

Then grief will tear your hearts apart,

because you shamed Achaea’s finest man.”                                             220

“Alas, this is great sorrow for Achaeans.

Priam and Priam’s children will be glad,

the hearts of other Trojans swell with joy,

should they find out about such quarreling,                                             230

a fight between you two, among Danaans

the very best for counsel or combat.

But listen. You are both younger men than I.

And I’ve been colleague of better men than you,

Yet they heard me and followed my advice.

So listen, both of you. That’s what’s best now.

Agamemnon, you’re an excellent man,

but do not take Briseis from Achilles.

Let that pass. Achaea’s sons gave her to him first.

And you, Peleus’ son, don’t seek to fight the king,                                 240

not as your enemy. Son of Atreus, check your anger.

Set aside, I urge you, your rage against Achilles,

who provides, in the middle of war’s evils,

a powerful defence for all Achaeans.”

“Old man, everything you say is true enough.

But this man wants to put the rest to shame,

rule all of us, lord it over everyone.

But some, I think, will not obey him.

So what if the gods, who live forever,                                                         250

made him a spearman? Is that some reason

we should let him say such shameful things?”

“I’d be called a coward, a nobody,

if I held back from any action

because of something you might say.

Order other men about. Don’t tell me

what I should do. I’ll not obey you any more.

But I will tell you this—remember it well—

I’ll not raise my hand to fight about that girl,                                             260

no, not against you or any other man.

You Achaeans gave her to me, and now,

you seize her back again. But you’ll not take

another thing from my swift black ship—

you’ll get nothing else with my consent.

If you’d like to see what happens, just try.

My spear will quickly drip with your dark blood.”

chose twenty sailors, loaded it with oxen,                                                               270

the challenge he’d made earlier to Achilles.                                                             280

There they found Achilles seated by his hut                                                           290

“Cheer up, heralds, messengers for gods and men.

Come here. I don’t blame you, but Agamemnon.

He sends you both here for the girl Briseis.

Come, Patroclus, born from Zeus, fetch the girl.

Give her to these two men to take away.

Let them both witness, before blessed gods,

mortal men, and that unfeeling king,

if ever there’s a need for me again                                                               300

to defend others from a shameful death.”

“Mother, since you gave me life—                                                             310

if only for a while—Olympian Zeus,

high thunderer, should give me due honour.

But he doesn’t grant me even slight respect.

For wide-ruling Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,

has shamed me, has taken away my prize,

appropriated it for his own use.”

and settled down before him, as he wept. She stroked him,                                 320

“Why should I tell you what you know? Heralds came

to take away Briseis from my huts,

the girl who is my gift from Achaea’s sons.

So now, if you can, protect your son.

Go to Mount Olympus, implore Zeus,

if ever you in word or deed have pleased him.                                           330

For often I have heard you boast in father’s house

that you alone of all the deathless gods

saved Zeus of the dark clouds from disgraceful ruin.

Clasp his knee, remind him of all that,

so he’ll want to help the Trojans somehow,

corner Achaeans by the sea, by their ships’ prows,

have them destroyed, so they all enjoy their king,

so the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon,

himself may see his foolishness, dishonouring

Achilles, the best of the Achaeans.”                                                           340

                                                            Thetis spoke.                                                     350

Odysseus sailed to Chryse, bringing with him

the sacrificial animals as sacred offerings.

When they had sailed into deep anchorage,

they took in the sails and stowed them in the ship,

then rowed the ship in to its mooring place.

Then Chryseis disembarked from the ocean ship.

Resourceful Odysseus led her to the altar,

placed her in her beloved father’s hands, then said:                                 360

 

“Chryses, I have been sent by Agamemnon,

ruler of men, to bring your daughter to you,

and then, on behalf of the Danaans,

to make an offering to lord Apollo—

all these sacrificial beasts—to placate the god,

who now inflicts such dismal evil on us.”

“Hear me, god of the silver bow, protector

of Chryse, mighty lord of holy Cilla,

sacred Tenedos. You heard me earlier,                                                        370

when I prayed to you. Just as you honoured me,

striking hard against Achaeans then, so now,

grant me what I pray for—remove disaster,

this wretched evil, from the Danaans.”

remaining idle by his ships, yearning                                                                        380

“Father Zeus, if, among the deathless gods,                                             390

I’ve ever served you well in word or deed,

then grant my prayer will be fulfilled.

Bring honour to my son, who, of all men

will be Fate’s quickest victim. For just now,

Agamemnon, king of men, has shamed him.

He seized his prize, robbing him in person,

and kept it for himself. But honour him,

Zeus, all-wise Olympian. Give the Trojans

the upper hand, until Achaeans respect my son,

until they multiply his honours.”                                                                 400

Among gods that’s the strongest pledge I make.                                                 410