Book II

The Trial of the Army, and Catalogue of the Forces

A treacherous dream sent by Jupiter to Agamemnon, who assembles the army in the hope to take Troy⁠—Debate of the chiefs in council⁠—Agamemnon pretends a desire to return to Greece, in order to try the disposition of the army⁠—Insolent speech of Thersites, and his punishment by Ulysses⁠—Advice of Nestor to review the troops⁠—Catalogue of the troops and ships⁠—Enumeration of the Trojan forces.

All other deities, all mortal men,

Tamers of war-steeds, slept the whole night through;

But no sweet slumber came to Jove; his thoughts

Were ever busy with the anxious care

To crown with honor Peleus’ son, and cause

Myriads to perish at the Grecian fleet.

At last, this counsel seemed the best⁠—to send

A treacherous dream to Agamemnon, son

Of Atreus. Then he called a Dream, and thus

Addressing it with wingèd words, he said:⁠—

“Go, fatal Vision, to the Grecian fleet,

And, entering Agamemnon’s tent, declare

Faithfully what I bid thee. Give command

That now he arm, with all the array of war,

The long-haired Greeks, for lo, the hour is come

That gives into his hands the city of Troy

With all its spacious streets. The powers who dwell

In the celestial mansions are no more

At variance; Juno’s prayers have moved them all,

And o’er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom.”

So spake the God; the Vision heard, and went

At once to where the Grecian barques were moored,

And entered Agamemnon’s tent and found

The king reposing, with the balm of sleep

Poured all around him. At his head the Dream

Took station in the form of Neleus’ son,

Nestor, whom Agamemnon honored most

Of all the aged men. In such a shape

The heaven-sent Dream to Agamemnon spake:⁠—

“O warrior-son of Atreus, sleepest thou?

Tamer of steeds! It ill becomes a chief,

Who has the charge of nations and sustains

Such mighty cares, to sleep the livelong night.

Give earnest heed to me, for I am come

A messenger from Jove, who, though far off,

Takes part in thy concerns and pities thee.

He bids thee arm, with all the array of war,

The long-haired Greeks, for now the hour is come

Which gives into thy hands the city of Troy

With all its spacious streets. The powers that dwell

In the celestial mansions are no more

At variance; Juno’s prayers have moved them all,

And o’er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom,

Decreed by Jove. Bear what I say in mind,

And when thy sleep departs forget it not.”

He spake, and, disappearing, left the king

Musing on things that never were to be;

For on that very day he thought to take

The city of Priam. Fool! who little knew

What Jupiter designed should come to pass,

And little thought by his own act to bring

Great woe and grief on Greeks and Trojans both

In hard-fought battles. From his sleep he woke,

The heavenly voice still sounding in his ears,

And sat upright, and put his tunic on,

Soft, fair, and new, and over that he cast

His ample cloak, and round his shapely feet

Laced the becoming sandals. Next, he hung

Upon his shoulders and his side the sword

With silver studs, and took into his hand

The ancestral sceptre, old, but undecayed,

And with it turned his footsteps toward the fleet

Of the Achaian warriors brazen-mailed.

Now Dawn, the goddess, climbed the Olympian height,

Foretelling Day to Jupiter and all

The immortal gods, when Agamemnon bade

The shrill-voiced heralds call the long-haired Greeks

Together; they proclaimed his will, and straight

The warriors came in throngs. But first he bade

A council of large-minded elders meet

On Pylian Nestor’s royal barque, and there

Laid his well-pondered thought before them:⁠—

“My friends, give ear: a Vision from above

Came to me sleeping in the balmy night;

Most like to noble Nestor was its look,

Its face, its stature, and its garb. It stood

Beside me at my head, and thus it spake:⁠—

“O warrior-son of Atreus, sleepest thou?

Tamer of steeds! It ill becomes a chief,

Who has the charge of nations and sustains

Such mighty cares, to sleep the livelong night.

Give earnest heed to me, for I am come

A messenger from Jove, who, though far off,

Takes part in thy concerns and pities thee.

He bids thee arm, with all the array of war,

The long-haired Greeks, for now the hour is come

Which gives into thy hands the city of Troy

With all its spacious streets. The powers who dwell

In the celestial mansions are no more

At variance; Juno’s prayers have moved them all,

And o’er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom,

Decreed by Jove. Bear what I say in mind.’

“It spake and passed away, and with it fled

My slumbers. Now must we devise a way

To bring into the field the sons of Greece.

I first will try, as best I may, with words,

And counsel flight from Troy with all our ships.

Ye each, with different counsels, do your part.”

He spake, and took his seat, and after him

Nestor, the king of sandy Pylus, rose,

With well-considered words. “O friends,” he said,

“Leaders and princes of the Grecian race,

Had any other of the Argive host

Related such a dream, we should have said

The tale is false, and spurned the counsel given,

But he has seen it who in rank and power

Transcends us all, and ours it is to see

How we may arm for war the sons of Greece.”

He spake, and left the council, and the rest,

All sceptred kings, arose, prepared to obey

The shepherd of the people. All the Greeks

Meanwhile came thronging to the appointed place.

As, swarming forth from cells within the rock,

Coming and coming still, the tribe of bees

Fly in a cluster o’er the flowers of spring,

And some are darting out to right and left,

So from the ships and tents a multitude

Along the spacious beach, in mighty throngs,

Moved toward the assembly. Rumor went with them,

The messenger of Jove, and urged them on.

And now, when they were met, the place was stunned

With clamor; earth, as the great crowd sat down,

Groaned under them; a din of mingled cries

Arose; nine shouting heralds strove to hush

The noisy crowd to silence, that at length

The heaven-descended monarchs might be heard.

And when the crowd was seated and had paused

From clamor, Agamemnon rose. He held

The sceptre; Vulcan’s skill had fashioned it,

And Vulcan gave it to Saturnian Jove,

And Jove bestowed it on his messenger,

The Argus-queller Hermes. He in turn

Gave it to Pelops, great in horsemanship;

And Pelops passed the gift to Atreus next,

The people’s shepherd. Atreus, when he died,

Bequeathed it to Thyestes, rich in flocks;

And last, Thyestes left it to be borne

By Agamemnon, symbol of his rule

O’er many isles and all the Argive realm.

Leaning on this, he spake these wingèd words:⁠—

“Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars,

Saturnian Jove hath in an evil net

Entangled me most cruelly. He gave

His promise and his nod, that, having razed

Troy with her strong defences, I should see

My home again; but now he meditates

To wrong me, and commands me to return,

With lessened glory and much people lost,

To Argos. Thus hath it seemed good to Jove

The mighty, who hath overthrown the towers

Of many a city, and will yet o’erthrow.

The ages yet to come will hear with shame

That such a mighty army of the Greeks

Have waged a fruitless war, and fought in vain

A foe less numerous; yet no end appears

To this long strife. Should Greeks and Trojans make

A treaty, faithfully to number each,

And should the Trojans count their citizens,

And we the Greeks, disposed in rows of tens,

Should call the Trojans singly to pour out

The wine for us, full many a company

Of ten would lack its cup-bearer; so far,

I judge, the sons of Greece outnumber those

Who dwell in Troy. But they have yet allies

From many a city, men who wield the spear,

Withstanding my attempt to overthrow

That populous town. Nine years of mighty Jove

Have passed already, and the planks that form

Our barques are mouldering, and the cables drop

In pieces, and our wives within their homes,

With their young children, sit expecting us;

Yet is the enterprise for which we came

Still unperformed. Now let us all obey

The mandate I reveal, and hasten hence,

With all our fleet, to our beloved homes;

For Troy with her broad streets we cannot take.”

He spake, and in the bosoms of the crowd

Stirred every heart; even those who heard him not

Were moved: the assembly wavered to and fro

Like the long billows of the Icarian Sea,

Roused by the East wind and the South, that rush

Forth from the cloudy seat of Father Jove;

Or like the harvest-field, when west winds stoop

Suddenly from above, and toss the wheat.

So was the whole assembly swayed; they ran

With tumult to the ships; beneath their feet

Rose clouds of dust, and each exhorted each

To seize the ships and drag them to the deep.

They cleared the channels mid the clamorous cries

Of multitudes, who hastened to return,

And drew the props from underneath their barques.

Then had the Greeks returned before their time

If Juno had not to Minerva said:⁠—

“Unconquerable child of Jove! What change

Is this? Shall then the Argive army thus

Flee to their homes across the deep and leave

Glory to Priam, and to Ilium’s sons

The Argive Helen, for whose sake have died

So many Greeks upon the Trojan strand,

Far from the land they loved? But hasten thou

To the host of Argive warriors mailed in brass,

And with persuasive words restrain their men.

Nor let them launch their barques upon the sea.”

She spake; nor did the blue-eyed Pallas fail

To heed the mandate, but with quick descent

She left the Olympian height and suddenly

Stood by the swift ships of the Grecian host.

She found Ulysses there, the man endowed

With wisdom like to Jove’s; he had not touched

His well-appointed barque, for grief had seized

The hero’s heart. The blue-eyed goddess took

Her place beside him, and addressed him thus:⁠—

“Son of Laertes, nobly born and sage

Ulysses, will ye, entering your good ships,

Return in flight to your own land and leave

Glory to Priam, and to Ilium’s sons

The Argive Helen, for whose sake have died

So many Greeks upon the Trojan strand,

Far from the land they loved? Go thou at once

And seek the Argive warriors and restrain

With thy persuasive words the impatient men,

Nor let them launch their well-appointed ships.”

She spake; Ulysses knew the heavenly voice,

And hastened back, and as he ran cast by

His cloak. Eurybates of Ithaca,

The herald, caught it as he followed him.

And now before Atrides, king of men,

The warrior stood, and from his hand received

The ancestral sceptre, old, but undecayed;

And bearing this, he went among the ships

Which brought the Achaian army, mailed in brass;

And whomsoe’er he met upon his way,

Monarch or eminent among the host,

He stopped him, and addressed him blandly, thus:⁠—

“Good friend, this eager haste as if from fear

Befits thee not. Sit down, and cause the rest

To sit. Whit Agamemnon’s will may be

Thou canst not yet be certain; he intends

To try the Greeks, and soon will punish those

Who act amiss. We cannot all have heard

What he has said; beware, then, lest his wrath

Fall heavily upon the sons of Greece.

The monarch, foster-child of Jupiter,

Is terrible enraged. Authority

Is given by Jove, all-wise, who loves the king.”

But when he found one of the lower sort

Shouting and brawling, with the royal wand

He smote him, and reproved him sharply, thus:⁠—

“Friend, take thy seat in quiet, and attend

To what thy betters say; thou art not strong

Nor valiant, and thou art of mean repute

In combat and in council. We, the Greeks,

Cannot be all supreme in power. The rule

Of the many is not well. One must be chief

In war, and one the king, to whom the son

Of Saturn gives the sceptre, making him

The lawgiver, that he may rule the rest.”

Thus did he act the chief, and make the host

Obey his word; they to the council ground

Came rushing back from all the ships and tents

With tumult, as, on the long-stretching shore

Of ocean many-voiced, his billows fling

Themselves in fury, and the deep resounds.

All others took their seats and kept their place;

Thersites only, clamorous of tongue,

Kept brawling. He, with many insolent words,

Was wont to seek unseemly strife with kings,

Uttering whate’er it seemed to him might move

The Greeks to laughter. Of the multitude

Who came to Ilium, none so base as he⁠—

Squint-eyed, with one lame foot, and on his back

A lump, and shoulders curving towards the chest;

His head was sharp, and over it the hairs

Were thinly scattered. Hateful to the chiefs

Achilles and Ulysses, he would oft

Revile them. He to Agamemnon now

Called with shrill voice and taunting words. The Greeks

Heard him impatiently, with strong disgust

And vehement anger, yet he shouted still

To Agamemnon, and kept railing on:⁠—

“Of what dost thou complain; what wouldst thou more,

Atrides? In thy tents are heaps of gold;

Thy tents are full of chosen damsels, given

To thee before all others, by the Greeks,

Whene’er we take a city. Dost thou yet

Hanker for gold, brought by some Trojan knight,

A ransom for his son, whom I shall lead⁠—

I, or some other Greek⁠—a captive bound?

Or dost thou wish, for thy more idle hours,

Some maiden, whom thou mayst detain apart?

Ill it beseems a prince like thee to lead

The sons of Greece, for such a cause as this,

Into new perils. O ye coward race!

Ye abject Greeklings, Greeks no longer, haste

Homeward with all the fleet, and let us leave

This man at Troy to win his trophies here,

That he may learn whether the aid we give

Avails him aught or not, since he insults

Achilles, a far braver man than he,

And takes from him by force and holds his prize.

And yet, Achilles is not moved by this

To anger: he is spiritless, or else,

Atrides, this injustice were thy last.”

Taunting the shepherd of the people thus,

Thersites shouted to the king of men.

But great Ulysses, coming quickly up,

Rebuked him with a frown: “Thou garrulous wretch!

Glib as thou art of tongue, Thersites, cease,

Nor singly dare to seek dispute with kings.

There came, I deem, no viler wretch than thou

To Troy with Agamemnon. Prate no more

Of kings, reviling them, and keeping watch

For pretexts to return. We know not yet

Whether to go or to remain were best.

Thou railest at the shepherd of the host,

Atrides Agamemnon, for thou seest

The Grecian heroes load him with rewards,

While thou insultest him with scurrilous words.

I tell thee now⁠—and I shall keep my word⁠—

If e’er again I find thee railing on,

As now thou dost, then let Ulysses wear

His head no longer, let me not be called

The father of Telemachus, if I

Shall fail to seize thee, and to strip thee bare

Of cloak and tunic, and whatever else

Covers thy carcass, and to send thee forth,

Howling, to our swift barques upon the shore,

Scourged from the council with a storm of blows.”

He spake, and with his sceptre smote the back

And shoulders of the scoffer, who crouched low

And shed a shower of tears. A bloody whelk

Rose where the golden sceptre fell. He took

His seat, dismayed, and still in pain wiped off

The tears from his smutched face. The multitude

Around him, though in anxious mood, were moved

To smiles, and one addressed his neighbor thus:⁠—

“Strange that Ulysses does a thousand things

So well⁠—so wise in council, and in war

So brave; and for the Grecian army now

He does the best of all, in silencing

The chatter of this saucy slanderer,

Whose acrid temper will not soon again

Move him to rail with insolent speech at kings.”

So talked the multitude. Ulysses then,

Holding the sceptre, rose, and by his side

The blue-eyed Pallas, in a herald’s form,

Commanded silence, that the Argive host⁠—

The mightiest and the meanest⁠—might attend

To what should now be said, and calmly weigh

The counsel given them. With a prudent art

Ulysses framed his speech, and thus he spake:⁠—

“The Greeks, O Atreus’ son, would bring on thee

Dishonor in the eyes and speech of men,

Breaking the promise made when first they came

From Argos, famed for steeds, that, having spoiled

This well-defended Troy, thou shouldst return

A conqueror. And now, like tender boys

Or widowed women, all give way to grief

And languish to return. ’Twere hard to bear

If, after all our sufferings and our toils,

We go back now. And yet, whoe’er remains

A single month away from wife and home

Chafes if the winter storms and angry sea

Detain him still on board his well-oared barque;

And we have seen the ninth full year roll round

Since we came hither. Therefore blame I not

The Greeks if they in their beaked ships repine

At this delay. But then it were disgrace

To linger here so long and journey home

With empty hands. Bear with us yet, and wait

Till it be certain whether Calchas speaks

Truly or not. For we remember well,

And all of you whom cruel death has spared

Are witnesses with me, that when the ships

Of Greece⁠—it seems as if but yesterday⁠—

Mustered in Aulis on their way to bring

Woe upon Priam and the town of Troy,

And we, beside a fountain, offered up

On sacred altars chosen hecatombs,

Under a shapely plane-tree, from whose root

Flowed the clear water, there appeared to us

A wondrous sign. A frightful serpent, marked

With crimson spots, which Jupiter sent forth

To daylight from beneath the altar-stone,

Came swiftly gliding toward the tree, whereon

A sparrow had her young⁠—eight unfledged birds⁠—

Upon the topmost bough and screened by leaves;

The mother was the ninth. The serpent seized

The helpless brood and midst their piteous cries

Devoured them, while the mother fluttered round,

Lamenting, till he caught her by the wing;

And when he had destroyed the parent bird

And all her brood, the god who sent him forth

Made him a greater marvel still. The son

Of crafty Saturn changed the snake to stone;

And we who stood around were sore amazed.

Such was the awful portent which the gods

Showed at that sacrifice. But Calchas thus

Instantly spake, interpreting the sign:⁠—

“ ‘O long haired Greeks,’ he said, ‘why stand ye thus

In silence? All-foreseeing Jupiter

Hath sent this mighty omen; late it comes

And late will be fulfilled, yet gloriously,

And with a fame that never shall decay.

For as the snake devoured the sparrow’s brood,

Eight nestlings, and the mother-bird the ninth⁠—

So many years the war shall last; the tenth

Shall give into our hands the stately Troy.’

“So spake the seer; thus far his words are true.

Bide ye then here, ye well-greaved sons of Greece,

Until the city of Priam shall be ours.”

He spake, and loud applause thereon ensued

From all the Greeks, and fearfully the ships

Rang with the clamorous voices uttering

The praises of Ulysses and his words.

Then Nestor, the Gerenian knight, arose

And thus addressed them: “Strangely ye behave,

Like boys unwonted to the tasks of war.

Where now are all your promises and oaths?

Shall all our counselings and all our cares,

Leagues made with wine, religiously outpoured,

And plightings of the strong right hand, be cast

Into the flames? Idly we keep alive

A strife of words, which serves no end though long

We loiter here! But thou, Atrides, firm

Of purpose, give command that now the Greeks

Move to the war, and leave to meet their fate

Those⁠—one or more⁠—who, parting from our host,

Meditate⁠—but I deem in vain⁠—to flee

Homeward to Argos ere they are assured

Whether the word of Jove omnipotent

Be false or true. For when the Greeks embarked

In their swift ships, to carry death and fate

To Ilium’s sons, almighty Jupiter

Flung down his lightnings on the right and gave

Propitious omens. Therefore let no Greek

Go home till he possess a Trojan wife

And ye have signally avenged the wrongs

And griefs of Helen. Yet, if one be here

Who longs to go, let him but lay his hand

On his black ship, prepared to cross the deep,

And he shall die before the rest. But thou,

O king, be wisely counselled, lend an ear

To others, nor neglect what I propose.

Marshal the Greeks by tribes and brotherhoods,

That tribe may stand by tribe, and brotherhoods

Succor each other; if thou thus command

And they obey, thou shalt discern which chief

Or soldier is faint-hearted, which is brave,

For each will fight his best, and thou shalt know

Whether through favor of the gods to Troy,

Or our own cowardice and shameful lack

Of skill in war, the town is not o’erthrown.”

In turn the monarch Agamemnon spake:⁠—

“O aged warrior, thou excellest all

The Greeks in council. Would to Jupiter,

To Pallas and Apollo, that with me

There were but ten such comrades. Priam’s town

Would quickly fall before us and be made

A desolation. But the god who bears

The aegis, Saturn’s son, hath cast on me

Much grief, entangling me in idle strifes

And angry broils. Achilles and myself

Have quarrelled for a maid with bitter words,

And I was first incensed. But if again

We meet and act as friends, the overthrow

That threatens Ilium will not be delayed⁠—

Not for an hour. Now all to your repast!

And then prepare for battle. First let each

See that his spear be sharp, and put his shield

In order, give to his swift-footed steeds

Their ample forage, and o’erlook his car

That it be strong for war; for all the day

Shall we maintain the stubborn fight, nor cease

Even for a moment, till the night come down

To part the wrathful combatants. The band

Of each broad buckler shall be moist with sweat

On every breast, and weary every arm

That wields the spear, and every horse that drags

The polished chariot o’er the field shall smoke

With sweat. But whosoever shall be found

By the beaked ships and skulking from the fray

Shall be the feast of birds of prey and dogs!”

He spake; the Argives raised a mighty shout,

Loud as when billows lash the beetling shore,

Rolled by the south-wind toward some jutting rock

On which the waves, whatever wind may blow,

Beat ceaselessly. In haste the people rose

And went among the ships, and kindled fires

Within their tents and took their meal. And one

Made offerings to one god; another paid

Vows to another of the immortal race;

And all implored deliverance from death

And danger. Agamemnon, king of men,

Offered a fatted ox of five years old

To Jupiter Almighty, summoning

The elder princes of the Grecian host⁠—

Nestor the first, the king Idomeneus,

And then the warriors Ajax and the son

Of Tydeus, with Ulysses, like to Jove

In council, sixth and last. Unbidden came

The valiant Menelaus, for he knew

The cares that weighed upon his brother’s heart.

Then, as they stood around the fatted ox

And took in hand the salted barley-meal,

King Agamemnon in the circle prayed:⁠—

“O Jove, most great and glorious! who dost rule

The tempest⁠—dweller of the ethereal space!

Let not the sun go down and night come on

Ere I shall lay the halls of Priam waste

With fire, and give their portals to the flames,

And hew away the coat of mail that shields

The breast of Hector, splitting it with steel.

And may his fellow-warriors, many a one,

Fall round him to the earth and bite the dust.”

He spake; the son of Saturn hearkened not,

But took the sacrifice and made more hard

The toils of war. And now when they had prayed,

And strown the salted meal, they drew the neck

Of the victim back and cut the throat and flayed

The carcass, hewed away the thighs and laid

The fat upon them in a double fold,

On which they placed raw strips of flesh, and these

They burned with leafless billets. Then they fixed

The entrails on the spits and held them forth

Above the flames, and when the thighs were burned

And entrails tasted, all the rest was carved

Into small portions and transfixed with spits

And roasted carefully and drawn away.

And when these tasks were finished and the board

Was spread, they feasted; from that equal feast

None went unsated. When they had appeased

Their thirst and hunger, the Gerenian knight

Nestor stood forth and spake: “Most glorious son

Of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men!

Waste we no time in prattle, nor delay

The work appointed by the gods, but send

The heralds of the Achaians, brazen-mailed,

To call the people to the fleet, while we

Pass in a body through their vast array

And wake the martial spirit in their breasts.”

He spake, and Agamemnon, king of men,

Followed the counsel. Instantly he bade

The loud-voiced herald summon to the war

The long-haired Argives. At the call they came,

Quickly they came together, and the kings,

Nurslings of Jupiter, who stood beside

Atrides, hastened through the crowd to form

The army into ranks. Among them walked

The blue-eyed Pallas, bearing on her arm

The priceless aegis, ever fair and new,

And undecaying; from its edge there hung

A hundred golden fringes, fairly wrought,

And every fringe might buy a hecatomb.

With this and fierce, defiant looks she passed

Through all the Achaian host, and made their hearts

Impatient for the march and strong to endure

The combat without pause⁠—for now the war

Seemed to them dearer than the wished return,

In their good galleys, to the land they loved.

As when a forest on the mountain-top

Is in a blaze with the devouring flame

And shines afar, so, while the warriors marched,

The brightness of their burnished weapons flashed

On every side and upward to the sky.

And as when water-fowl of many tribes⁠—

Geese, cranes, and long-necked swans⁠—disport themselves

In Asia’s fields beside Cayster’s streams,

And to and fro they fly with screams, and light,

Flock after flock, and all the fields resound;

So poured, from ships and tents, the swarming tribes

Into Scamander’s plain, where fearful’y

Earth echoed to the tramp of steeds and men;

And there they mustered on the river’s side,

Numberless as the flowers and leaves of spring,

And as when flies in swarming myriads haunt

The herdsman’s stalls in spring-time, when new milk

Has filled the pails⁠—in such vast multitudes

Mustered the long-haired Greeks upon the plain,

Impatient to destroy the Trojan race.

Then, as the goatherds, when their mingled flocks

Are in the pastures, know and set apart

Each his own scattered charge, so did the chiefs,

Moving among them, marshal each his men.

There walked King Agamemnon, like to Jove

In eye and forehead, with the loins of Mars,

And ample chest like him who rules the sea.

And as a bull amid the horned herd

Stands eminent and nobler than the rest,

So Jove to Agamemnon on that day

Gave to surpass the chiefs in port and mien.

O Muses, goddesses who dwell on high,

Tell me⁠—for all things ye behold and know,

While we know nothing and may only hear

The random tales of rumor⁠—tell me who

Were chiefs and princes of the Greeks; for I

Should fail to number and to name them all⁠—

Had I ten tongues, ten throats, a voice unapt

To weary, uttered from a heart of brass⁠—

Unless the Muses aided me. I now

Will sing of the commanders and the ships.

Peneleus, Prothoenor, Leitus,

And Clonius, and Arcesilaus led

The warriors of Boeotia, all who dwelt

In Hyria and in rocky Aulis, all

From Schoenus and from Scolus and the hill

Of Eteonus and Thespeia’s fields,

And Graia and the Mycalesian plain,

All who from Herma and Ilesius came,

And Erythrae, and those who had their homes

In Eleon, Hyla, and Ocalea,

And Peteona, and the stately streets

Of Medeon, Copae, Thisbè full of doves,

And those whose dwelling-place was Eutresis,

And Coronaea, and the grassy lawns

Of Haliartus, all the men who held

Plataea, or in Glissa tilled the soil,

Or dwelt in Hypothebae nobly built,

Or in Onchestus with its temple-walls

Sacred to Neptune, or inhabited

Arnè with fruitful vineyards, Midea

And Nyssa the divine, and Anthedon

The distant⁠—fifty were their barques, and each

Held sixscore youths of the Boeotian race.

Next, over those who came from Aspledon

And from Orchomenus in Minyas

Ascalaphus ruled with his brother chief

Ialmenus⁠—two sons of mighty Mars.

These, in the halls of Actor, Azis’ son,

Astyoche bore to the god of war,

Who met by stealth the bashful maid, as once

She sought the upper palace-rooms. Their ships

Were thirty, ranged in order on the shore.

Then Schedius and Epistrophus, two chiefs

Born to Iphitus, son of Naubolus

The large of soul, led the Phocean host,

Those who in Cyparissus had their homes,

In Panopè and Crissa the divine

And Daulis, or about Hyampolis

Anemoreia, and upon the banks of broad

Cephissus, and with them the race

Who held Lilaea by Cephissus’ springs.

With these came forty ships. Their leaders went

Among them, ranging them in due array

And close to the Boeotians on the left.

Ajax the swift of foot, Oileus’ son,

Was leader of the Locrians⁠—less in limb

And stature than the other Ajax⁠—nay,

Much smaller than that son of Telamon,

Wearing a linen corselet; but to wield

The spear he far excelled all other men

Of Hellas and Achaia. Those who dwelt

In Cynus, Opus, Bessa, and the fields

Of Scarpha and Calliarus and green

Augeia, Tarpha, and the meadows where

Boagrius waters Thronium, followed him

With forty dark-hulled Locrian barques, that came

From coasts beyond Eubrea’s sacred isle.

The Euboeans breathing valor, they who held

Chalcis, Eretria, and the vineyard slopes

Of Histiaea, and the lofty walls

Of Dium and Cerinthus by the sea,

And Styra, and Earystus; these obeyed

Elphenor of the line of Mars, and son

Of the large-souled Chalcodon ruler o’er

The Abantes. Him with loosely flowing locks

The Abantes followed, swift of foot and fierce

In combat, and expert to break the mail

Upon the enemies’ breasts with ashen spears;

With forty dark-hulled barques they followed him.

Next they who came from Athens nobly built,

The city of Erechtheus, great of soul,

Son of the teeming Earth, whom Pallas reared,

That daughter of the Highest, and within

Her sumptuous temple placed him, where the sons

Of Athens, with the circling year’s return,

Paid worship at her altars, bringing bulls

And lambs to lay upon them; these obeyed

Menestheus, son of Peteus, whom no chief

On earth could equal in the art to place

Squadrons of men and horse in due array

For battle. Nestor only sought to share

This praise, but Nestor was the elder chief.

Fifty dark galleys with Menestheus came.

Ajax had brought twelve ships from Salamis,

And these he stationed near the Athenian host.

But they who dwelt in Argos, or within

The strong-walled Tiryns, or Hermione

And Asine with their deep, sheltering bays,

Troezenè and Eïonae, and hills

Of Epidaurus planted o’er with vines,

And they who tilled Aeigina and the coast

Of Mases⁠—Grecian warriors⁠—over these

Brave Diomed bore sway, with Sthenelus,

Beloved son of far-famed Campaneus,

And, third in rule, Euryalus, who seemed

Like to a god, Mecisteus’ royal son

Who sprung from Talaus; yet the chief command

Was given to Diomed, the great in war.

A fleet of eighty galleys came with them.

The dwellers of Mycenae nobly built,

Of Corinth famed for riches, and the town

Of beautiful Cleonae, they who tilled

Orneia, Araethyrea’s pleasant land,

And Sicyon, where of yore Adrastus reigned,

And Hyperesia and the airy heights

Of Gonoessa, and Pellene’s fields,

And they who came from Aegium and the shores

Around it, and broad lands of Helicè⁠—

These had a hundred barques, and over them

Atrides Agamemnon bore command;

And with him came the largest train of troops

And bravest. He was cased in gleaming mail,

And his heart gloried when he thought how high

He stood among the heroes⁠—mightier far

In power, and leader of a mightier host.

Then they who dwelt within the hollow vale

Of queenly Lacedsemon, they who held

Phare and Sparta, Messa full of doves,

Bryseiae, and Augeia’s rich domain,

Amyclae and the town of Helos, built

Close to the sea, and those who had their homes

In Laäs and the fields of Oetylus;

All these obeyed the brother of the king,

The valiant Menelaus. Sixty ships

They brought, but these he ranged apart from those

Of Agamemnon. Through the ranks he went,

And, trusting in his valor, quickened theirs

For battle; for his heart within him burned

To avenge the wrongs of Helen and her tears.

Then came the men who tilled the Pylean coast

And sweet Arenè, Thrya at the fords

Of Alpheus, and the stately palace homes

Of Aepy, or in Cyparissus dwelt,

Or in Amphigeneia, Pteleum,

Helos and Dorium, where the Muses once

Met, journeying from Oecalian Eurytus,

The Thracian Thamyris, and took from him

His power of voice. For he had made his boast

To overcome in song the daughters nine

Of Jove the Aegis-bearer. They in wrath

Smote him with blindness, took the heavenly gift

Of song away, and made his hand forget

Its cunning with the harp. All those were led

By Nestor, the Gerenian knight, who came

To war on Troy with fourscore ships and ten.

The Arcadians, dwelling by the lofty mount

Cyllene, near the tomb of Epytus,

Warriors who combat hand to hand, and they

Who tilled the fields of Pheneus and possessed

Orchomenus with all its flocks, or dwelt

In Ripa and in Stratia, and the bleak

Enispe, beaten with perpetual winds,

And in Tegea, and the lovely land

Of Mantinea, and in Stymphalus

And in Parrhasia, came in sixty ships

To Troy, with Agapenor for their chief,

Son of Ancaeus. Every ship was thronged

With warriors of Arcadia, for the king

Of men, Atrides, gave them well-oared barques

To cross the dark blue deep, since not to them

Pertained the cares and labors of the sea.

Then from Buprasium and the sacred coast

Of Elis, from Hyrmine and remote

Myrsinus and the Olenian precipice,

And from Alisium came, with chieftains four,

The warriors, ten swift galleys following

Each chieftain, crowded with Epean troops.

And part obeyed Amphimacus, the son

Of Cteatus, and part with Thalpius came,

The son of Eurytus Actorides,

And part with brave Diores, of the line

Of Amarynceus. Last, Polyxenus,

The godlike offspring of Agasthenes,

Whose father was Augeias, led the rest.

They from Dulichium and the Echinades,

Those holy isles descried from Elis o’er

The waters, had for leader Megas, brave

As Mars⁠—the son of Phyleus, dearly loved

By Jove. He left his father’s house in wrath

And dwelt within Dulichium. With the troops

Of Megas came a fleet of forty ships.

Ulysses led the Cephallenian men,

Who dwelt in Ithaca, or whose abode

Was leafy Neritus, and those who came

From Crocyleia, and from Aegilips

The craggy, and Zacynthus, and the isle

Of Samos, and Epirus, and from all

The bordering lands. O’er these Ulysses ruled,

A chief like Jove in council, and with him

There came twelve galleys with their scarlet prows.

Then with the Aetolians came Andraemon’s son

Thoas, their leader. With him were the men

Of Pleuron and Pylene, Olenus,

And Chalcis on the sea-coast and the rocks

Of Calydon; for now no more the sons

Of large-souled Oeneus were alive on earth,

Nor lived the chief himself, and in his tomb

Was Meleager of the golden hair;

And thus the Aetolian rule to Thoas came.

A fleet of fourscore galleys followed him.

Idomeneus, expert to wield the spear,

Commanded those of Crete, the men who dwelt

In Cnosus or Gortyna, strongly walled

Lyctus, Miletus, and the glimmering

Lycastus, Phaestus, Rhytium’s populous town,

And all the warrior train inhabiting

The hundred towns of Crete. Idomeneus

The mighty spearman, and Meriones,

Fierce as the god of war, commanded these,

And came to Troy with eighty dark-ribbed barques.

Tlepolemus, a warrior of the stock

Of Hercules, was leader of the troops

Of Rhodes, and brought nine vessels to the war,

Manned with the haughty Rhodians. These were ranged

In threefold order: those of Lindus, those

Who dwell in white Camirus, lastly those

Of Ialassa. These Tlepolemus,

The valiant spearman, ruled. Astyoche

Bore him to mighty Hercules, who led

The maid from Ephyra, upon the banks

Of Selleis, to be his wife, what time

His valor had o’erthrown and made a spoil

Of many a city full of noble youths.

Tlepolemus, when in the palace-halls

He grew to manhood, slew an aged man,

An uncle of his father, whom he loved,

Lycimnius, of the line of Mars, and straight

He rigged a fleet of ships and led on board

A numerous host and fled across the sea.

For fearful were the threats of other sons

And grandsons of the mighty Hercules.

In Rhodes they landed after wanderings long

And many hardships. There they dwelt in tribes,

Three tribes⁠—and were beloved of Jupiter,

The ruler over gods and men, who poured

Abundant riches on their new abode.

Nireus with three good ships from Syma came,

Nireus, Aglaia’s son by Charopus

The monarch⁠—Nireus who in comeliness

Surpassed all Greeks that came to Ilium, save

The faultless son of Peleus. Yet was he

Unwarlike and few people followed him.

The dwellers of Nisyrus, Crapathus,

And Cos, the city of Eurypylus,

Casus, and the Calydnian isles, obeyed

Phidippus and his brother Antiphus,

Sons of the monarch Thessalus, who sprang

From Hercules. With thirty ships they came.

But those who held Pelasgian Argos, those

Who dwelt in Alos, Trachys, Alope,

Phthia, and Hellas full of lovely dames⁠—

Named Myrmidons, Achaians, Hellenes,

Achilles led their fifty ships; but they

Now heeded not the summons to the war,

For there was none to form their ranks for fight.

The great Achilles, swift of foot, remained

Within his ships, indignant for the sake

Of the fair-haired Briscis, whom he brought

A captive from Lyrnessus after toils

And dangers many. He had sacked and spoiled

Lyrnessus, and o’erthrown the walls of Thebes

And smitten Mynes and Epistrophus,

The warlike sons of King Evenus, sprung

From old Selapius. For this cause he kept

Within his ships, full soon to issue forth.

The men of Phylacè, of Pyrasus⁠—

Sacred to Ceres and o’erspread with flowers,

And of Itona, mother of white flocks,

Antrona on the sea, and Pteleum green

With herbage⁠—over these while yet he lived

The brave Protesilaüs ruled; but now

The dark earth covered him, and for his sake

His consort, desolate in Phylacè,

Tore her fair cheeks, and all unfinished stood

His palace, for a Dardan warrior slew

Her husband as he leaped upon the land,

The foremost of the Achaians. Yet his troops

Were not without a leader, though they mourned

Their brave old chief. Podarces, loved by Mars⁠—

Son of Iphiclus, rich in flocks, who sprang

From Phylacus⁠—led them and formed their ranks.

A younger brother of the slain was he.

The slain was braver. Though the warriors grieved

To lose their glorious chief, they did not lack

A general. Forty dark ships followed him.

Then they who dwelt in Pherae, by the lake

Boebeis, and in Boebe, Glaphyrae,

And nobly built Iolchos, came to Troy,

Filling eleven galleys, and obeyed

Eumelus, whom Alcestis the divine

Bore to Admetus⁠—fairest, she, of all

The house of Pelias and of womankind.

Those from Methone and Olizon’s rocks,

And Meliboea and Thaumacia, filled

Seven ships, with Philoctetes for their chief,

A warrior skilled to bend the bow. Each barque

Held fifty rowers, bowmen all, and armed

For stubborn battle. But their leader lay

Far in an island, suffering grievous pangs⁠—

The hallowed isle of Lemnos. There the Greeks

Left him, in torture from a venomed wound

Made by a serpent’s fangs. He lay and pined.

Yet was the moment near when they who thus

Forsook their king should think of him again.

Meantime his troops were not without a chief;

Though greatly they desired their ancient lord,

For now the base-born Medon marshalled them,

Son of Oileus. Rhene brought him forth

To that destroyer of strong fortresses.

The men of Tricca and Ithome’s hills,

And they who held Oechalia and the town

Of Eurytus the Aechalian, had for chiefs two

sons of Aesculapius, healers both,

And skilful⁠—Podalirius one, and one

Machaon. Thirty hollow barques were theirs.

The dwellers of Ormenium, they whose homes

Were by the Hyperian fount, and they

Who held Asterium and the snowy peaks

Of Titanus, obeyed Eurypylus,

Evaemon’s son, and far renowned. A fleet

Of forty dark-ribbed vessels followed him.

Those who possessed Argissa, those who held

Gyrtonè, Orthè, and Helonè, those

Who dwelt in Oloösson with white walls,

The sturdy warrior Polypoetes led,

Son of Pirithoüs, who derived his birth

From deathless Jove. Hippodameia bore

The warrior to Pirithoüs on the day

When he took vengeance on the shaggy brood

Of Centaurs, and from Pelion drove them forth

To Aethicae. Yet not alone in rule

Was Polypoetes, for Leonteus, sprung

From the large-souled Coronus, Caeneus’ son,

Shared with him the command. With them a fleet

Of forty dark-hulled vessels came to Troy.

Then Guneus came, with two and twenty ships

From Cythus. Under his command he held

The Enienes, and that sturdy race,

The Periboean warriors, and the men

Who built on cold Dodona, or who tilled

The fields where pleasant Titaresius flows

And into Peneus pours his gentle stream,

Yet with its silver eddies mingles not,

But floats upon the current’s face like oil⁠—

A Stygian stream by which the immortals swear.

With Prothous, Tenthredon’s son, there came

The warriors of Magnesia, who abode

By Peneus, and by Pelion hung with woods;

Swift-footed Prothous led these. They came

With forty dark-hulled galleys to the war.

These were the chiefs and princes of the Greeks.

Say, Muse, who most excelled among the kings,

And which the noblest steeds, of all that came

With the two sons of Atreus to the war?

The noblest steeds were those in Pherae bred,

That, guided by Eumelus, flew like birds⁠—

Alike in hue and age; the plummet showed

Their height the same, and both were mares, and, reared

By Phoebus of the silver bow among

The meadows of Pieria, they became

The terror of the bloody battle-field.

The mightiest of the chiefs, while yet in wrath

Achilles kept aloof, was Ajax, son

Of Telamon; yet was Pelides far

The greater warrior, and the steeds which bore

That perfect hero were of noblest breed.

In his beaked galleys, swift to cut the sea,

Achilles lay, meanwhile, and nursed the wrath

He bore to Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,

The shepherd of the people. On the beach

His warriors took their sport with javelins

And quoits and bows, while near the chariots tied

The horses, standing, browsed on lotus-leaves

And parsley from the marshes. But beneath

The tents the closely covered chariots stood,

While idly through the camp the charioteers,

Hither and thither sauntering, missed the sight

Of their brave lord and went not to the field.

The army swept the earth as when a fire

Devours the herbage of the plains. The ground

Groaned under them as when the Thunderer Jove

In anger with his lightnings smites the earth

About Typhosus⁠—where they say he lies⁠—

In Arimi. So fearfully the ground

Groaned under that swift army as it moved.

Now to the Trojans the swift Iris came

A messenger from aegis-bearing Jove,

Tidings of bale she brought. They all had met⁠—

Old men and youths⁠—in council at the gates

Of Priam’s mansion. There did Iris take

Her station near the multitude, and spake,

In voice and gesture like Polites, son

Of Priam, who, confiding in his speed,

Had stood a watcher for the sons of Troy

On aged Aesyeta’s lofty tomb,

To give them warning when the Achaian host

Should issue from their galleys. Thus disguised,

Swift Iris spake her message from the skies:⁠—

“Father! Thou art delighted with much speech,

As once in time of peace, but now’t is war,

Inevitable war, and close at hand.

I have seen many battles, yet have ne’er

Beheld such armies, and so vast as these⁠—

In number like the sands and summer leaves.

They march across the plain, prepared to give

Battle beneath the city walls. To thee,

O Hector, it belongs to heed my voice

And counsel. Many are the allies within

The walls of this great town of Priam, men

Of diverse race and speech. Let every chief

Of these array his countrymen for war,

And give them orders for the coming fight.”

She spake, and Hector heeded and obeyed

The counsel of the goddess; he dismissed

The assembly; all the Trojans rushed to arms,

And all the gates were opened. Horse and foot

Poured forth together in tumultuous haste.

In the great plain before the city stands

A mound of steep ascent on every side;

Men named it Batiea, but the gods

Called it the swift Myrinna’s tomb; and here

Mustered the sons of Troy and their allies.

Great Hector of the beamy helm, the son

Of Priam, led the Trojan race. The host

Of greatest multitude was marshalled there,

And there the bravest, mighty with the spear.

Aeneas marshalled the Dardanian troops⁠—

The brave son of Anchises. Venus bore

The warrior to Anchises on the heights

Of Ida, where the mortal lover met

The goddess. Yet he ruled them not alone;

Two chiefs, Antenor’s sons Archelochus

And Acamas, were with him in command,

Expert in all the many arts of war.

The Trojans from Zeleia, opulent men,

Who drank the dark Aesepus⁠—over these

Ruled Pandarus, Lycaon’s valiant son,

To whom the god Apollo gave his bow.

The troops from Adrasteia, they who dwelt

Within Apaesus’ walls, or tilled the soil

Of Pityeia and Tereia’s heights,

Were led by Amphius and Adrastus, clad

In linen corselets for the war, the sons

Of Merops the Percosian, skilled beyond

All other men in the diviner’s art.

Nor would he that his sons should seek the field

Of slaughter. They obeyed him not; the fates

Decreed their early death and urged them on.

The dwellers of Percote, Practium,

And Sestus, and Abydus, and divine

Arisba, followed Asius, great among

The heroes and the son of Hyrtacus⁠—

Asius, who came with strong and fiery steeds,

Borne from Arisba and from Selleis’ banks.

Hippothoüs over the Pelasgian tribes⁠—

Skilled spearman, who abode among the fields

Of the deep-soiled Larissa⁠—bore command⁠—

Hippothoüs with Pyteus, who derived

Their race from Mars, and for their father claimed

Pelasgian Lethus, son of Teutamus.

And Acamas, and Peiroüs, valiant chief,

Were captains of the Thracian men, whose fields

Were bounded by the rushing Hellespont.

Euphemus led the Cicones, expert

To wield the spear in fight. The nobly-born

Troezenus was his father. Ceas’ son

Pyraechmes with Paeonia’s archers came

From the broad Axius in far Amydon⁠—

Axius, the fairest river of the earth.

Pytamenes, a chief of fearless heart,

Led from the region of the Eneti,

Where first the stubborn race of mules was bred,

The Paphlagonian warriors, they who held

Cytorus, Sesamus, and fair abodes

Built where Parthenius wanders on, and those

Who dwelt in Cromna and Aegialus,

And on the lofty Erythinian heights.

And Hodius and Epistrophus led on

The Halezonians from the distant land

Of Alyba, where ores of silver lie.

And Chromis and the augur Ennomus

Were leaders of the Mysians; but his skill

Saved not the augur from the doom of death,

Slain by the swift of foot, Aeacides,

With other men of Troy where Xanthus flows.

And Phorcys and Ascanius, who was like

A god in beauty, led the Phrygian troops

From far Ascania, eager for the fray.

And Antiphus and Mesthles were the chiefs

Of the Maeonian warriors, reared beside

The ships of Tmolus. There Gygaea’s lake

Brought forth both chieftains to Pylsemenes.

Nastes was leader of the Carian troops,

Who spake in barbarous accents and possessed

Miletus and the leafy mountain heights

Where dwell the Phthirians, and Maeauder’s stream,

And airy peaks of Mycalè. O’er these

Amphimachus and Nastes held command⁠—

Amphimachus and Nastes, far renowned

Sons of Nomion, him who, madly vain,

Went to the battle pranked like a young girl

In golden ornaments. They spared him not

The bitter doom of death; he fell beneath

The hand of swift Aeacides within

The river’s channel. There the great in war,

Achilles, spoiled Nomion of his gold.

Sarpedon and the noble Glaucus bore

Rule o’er the Eycians coming from afar,

Where eddying Xanthus runs through Lycia’s meads.