Book 13

After the death of Achilles, Ajax and Ulysses contend for his armour; the Greek chiefs having adjudged it to the last, Ajax kills himself in despair, and his blood is changed into a flower. When Ulysses has brought Philoctetes, who is possessed of the arrows of Hercules, to the siege, and the destinies of Troy are thereby accomplished, the city is taken and sacked, and Hecuba becomes the slave of Ulysses.

After Achilles dies, Ajax and Ulysses compete for his armor. The Greek chiefs award it to Ulysses, and Ajax kills himself in despair. His blood turns into a flower. Ulysses brings Philoctetes, who has the arrows of Hercules, to the siege. Troy’s fate is thus fulfilled. The city is captured and plundered, and Hecuba becomes Ulysses’ slave.

The chiefs were seated; and a ring of the common people standing around, Ajax, the lord of the seven-fold shield, arose before them. And as he was impatient in his wrath, with stern features he looked back upon the Sigæan shores, and the fleet upon the shore, and, stretching out his hands, he said, “We are pleading,¹⁰⁴⁶ O Jupiter, our cause before the ships, and Ulysses vies with me! But he did not hesitate to yield to the flames of Hector, which I withstood, and which I drove from this fleet. It is safer, therefore, for him to contend with artful words than with his right hand. But neither does my talent lie in speaking, nor his¹⁰⁴⁷ in acting; and as great ability as I have in fierce warfare, so much has he in talking. Nor do I think, O Pelasgians, that my deeds need be related to you; for you have been eye-witnesses of them. Let Ulysses recount his, which he has performed without any witness, and of which night alone¹⁰⁴⁸ is conscious. I own that the prize that is sought is great; but the rival of Ajax lessens its value. It is no proud thing, great though it may be, to possess any thing which Ulysses has hoped for. Already has he obtained the reward of this contest, in which, when he shall have been worsted, he will be said to have contended with me. And I, if my prowess were to be questioned, should prevail by the nobleness of my birth, being the son of Telamon, who took the city¹⁰⁴⁹ of Troy under the valiant Hercules, and entered the Colchian shores in the Pagasæan ship. Æacus was his father, who there gives laws to the silent shades, where the heavy stone urges downward Sisyphus,¹⁰⁵⁰ the son of Æolus.

The chiefs were seated, with a circle of common people standing around them. Ajax, lord of the seven-fold shield, rose before them. Seething with anger, he looked sternly back at the Sigæan shores and the fleet drawn up there. Then he stretched out his hands and said, “O Jupiter, we are arguing¹⁰⁴⁶ our case before the ships, and Ulysses is competing with me! Yet he did not hesitate to give way before Hector’s flames. I stood against them and drove them away from this fleet. So it is safer for him to fight with clever words than with his right hand. But my talent is not in speaking, nor his¹⁰⁴⁷ in action. He is as skilled at talking as I am in fierce battle. Pelasgians, I do not think I need to tell you about my deeds. You saw them yourselves. Let Ulysses tell you about his deeds. He performed them without witnesses, and only night¹⁰⁴⁸ knows of them. “I admit that the prize we seek is great. But the man competing with Ajax makes it worth less. Great as the prize may be, there is no pride in owning anything Ulysses has hoped to possess. He has already won his reward from this contest. When he loses, people will say that he competed with me. “And if my courage were questioned, I would still win because of my noble birth. I am the son of Telamon, who captured the city¹⁰⁴⁹ of Troy with the brave Hercules. He also reached the Colchian shores in the Pagasæan ship. His father was Æacus, who gives laws to the silent shades in the underworld. There, the heavy stone presses Sisyphus,¹⁰⁵⁰ son of Æolus, downward.

“The supreme Jupiter owns Æacus, and confesses that he is his offspring. Thus Ajax is the third¹⁰⁵¹ from Jupiter. And yet, O Greeks, let not this line of descent avail me in this cause, if it be not common to me with the great Achilles. He was my cousin;¹⁰⁵² I ask for what belonged to my cousin? Why does one descended from the blood of Sisyphus, and very like him in thefts and fraud, intrude the name of a strange family among the descendants of Æacus? Are the arms to be denied me, because I took up arms before him, and through the means of no informer?¹⁰⁵³ and shall one seem preferable who was the last to take them up, and who, by feigning madness, declined war, until the son of Nauplius,¹⁰⁵⁴ more cunning than he, but more unhappy for himself, discovered the contrivance¹⁰⁵⁵ of his cowardly mind, and dragged him forth to the arms which he had avoided. Now let him take the best arms who would have taken none. Let me be dishonoured, and stripped of the gifts that belonged to my cousin, who presented myself in the front of danger. And I could wish that that madness had been either real or believed so to be, and that he had never attended us as a companion to the Phrygian towers, this counsellor of evil! Then, son of Pœas,¹⁰⁵⁶ Lemnos would not have had thee exposed there through our guilt; who now, as they say, concealed in sylvan caves, art moving the very rocks with thy groans, and art wishing for the son of Laërtes what he has deserved; which, may the Gods, the Gods, I say, grant thee not to pray in vain.

“Supreme Jupiter acknowledges Æacus as his son. Thus Ajax is the third¹⁰⁵¹ in descent from Jupiter. Yet, O Greeks, let this ancestry count for nothing in my claim unless I share it with the great Achilles. He was my cousin.¹⁰⁵² I ask for what belonged to my cousin. Why does a descendant of Sisyphus intrude the name of an unrelated family among the descendants of Æacus? He is just like Sisyphus in his thefts and frauds. Are the arms to be denied me because I took up arms before him and needed no one to expose me?¹⁰⁵³ Shall the man who took them up last be preferred? He pretended to be mad to avoid the war. Then the son of Nauplius,¹⁰⁵⁴ who was more cunning than he, though to his own sorrow, exposed his cowardly scheme¹⁰⁵⁵ and dragged him out to take up the arms he had avoided. Now let the man who would have taken no arms have the best arms. Let me be dishonored and stripped of the gifts that belonged to my cousin, though I put myself in the front of danger. I wish his madness had been real or believed to be real. I wish this giver of evil counsel had never accompanied us to the Phrygian towers! Then you, son of Pœas,¹⁰⁵⁶ would not have been left exposed there on Lemnos through our fault. Now, they say, you hide in woodland caves, moving the very rocks with your groans. You call down on the son of Laërtes what he deserves. May the Gods, the Gods, I say, grant that your prayers are not in vain.

“And now, he that was sworn upon the same arms with ourselves, one of our leaders, alas! by whom, as his successor, the arrows of Hercules are used, broken by disease and famine, is being clothed¹⁰⁵⁷ and fed by birds; and in shooting fowls, he is employing the shafts destined for the destruction of Troy. Still, he lives, because he did not accompany Ulysses. And the unhappy Palamedes would have preferred that he had been left behind; then he would have been living, or, at least, he would have had a death without any criminality. Him, Ulysses remembering too well the unlucky discovery of his madness, pretended to be betraying the Grecian interests, and proved his feigned charge, and shewed the Greeks the gold, which he had previously hidden in the ground. By exile then, or by death,¹⁰⁵⁸ has he withdrawn from the Greeks their best strength. Thus Ulysses fights, thus is he to be dreaded. Though he were to excel even the faithful Nestor in eloquence, yet he would never cause me to believe that the forsaking of Nestor¹⁰⁵⁹ was not a crime; who, when he implored the aid of Ulysses, retarded by the wound of his steed, and wearied with the years of old age, was deserted by his companion. The son of Tydeus knows full well that these charges are not invented by me, who calling on him often by name, rebuked him, and upbraided¹⁰⁶⁰ his trembling friend with his flight. The Gods above behold the affairs of men with just eyes. Lo! he wants help, himself, who gave it not; and as he left another, so was he doomed to be left: such law had he made for himself.

“And now, one of our leaders, who swore to fight alongside us, is broken by disease and hunger. Alas! He inherited the arrows of Hercules and now uses them. Birds clothe¹⁰⁵⁷ and feed him, and he shoots birds with the arrows destined to destroy Troy. Still, he lives because he did not go with Ulysses. And unhappy Palamedes would have preferred to be left behind. Then he would still be alive, or at least his death would not have been a crime. Palamedes had uncovered Ulysses’s pretended madness, and Ulysses remembered it only too well. So he accused Palamedes of betraying the Grecian cause. To prove the false charge, he showed the Greeks gold he had previously buried. Through exile or death,¹⁰⁵⁸ he has robbed the Greeks of their best strength. This is how Ulysses fights, and this is why he is to be feared. Even if he surpassed the faithful Nestor in eloquence, he could never convince me that abandoning Nestor¹⁰⁵⁹ was not a crime. Nestor was slowed by his horse’s wound and worn down by old age. He begged Ulysses for help, but his companion deserted him. The son of Tydeus knows full well that I am not inventing these charges. He called Ulysses by name again and again, rebuking him and scolding¹⁰⁶⁰ his trembling friend for fleeing. The Gods above watch the affairs of men with just eyes. Look! Ulysses himself needs the help he refused to give. Just as he abandoned another, so he was doomed to be abandoned. He had made that law for himself.

“He called aloud to his companions. I came, and I saw him trembling, and pale with fear, and shuddering at the impending death. I opposed the mass of my shield to the enemy, and covered him¹⁰⁶¹ as he lay; and I preserved (and that is the least part of my praise) his dastardly life. If thou dost persist in vying, let us return to that place; restore the enemy, and thy wound, and thy wonted fear; and hide behind my shield, and under that contend with me. But, after I delivered him, he to whom his wounds before gave no strength for standing, fled, retarded by no wound whatever. Hector approaches, and brings the Gods along with him to battle, and where he rushes on, not only art thou alarmed, Ulysses, but even the valiant are; so great terror does he bring. Him, as he exulted in the successes of his bloodstained slaughter, in close conflict, I laid flat with a huge stone. Him demanding one with whom he might engage, did I alone withstand; and you, Greeks, prayed it might fall to my lot;¹⁰⁶² and your prayers prevailed. If you inquire into the issue of this fight, I was not beaten by him.

“He called out to his companions. I came and saw him trembling, pale with fear, and shuddering at the thought of his impending death. I placed my massive shield between him and the enemy and covered him¹⁰⁶¹ as he lay there. I saved his cowardly life, though that is the least of my achievements. If you insist on competing with me, let us return to that place. Bring back the enemy, your wound, and your usual fear. Hide behind my shield, and compete with me from there. But after I saved him, he fled without a wound to slow him down. Yet his wounds before had left him too weak to stand. Hector approaches, bringing the Gods into battle with him. Wherever he charges, you are not the only one afraid, Ulysses. Even the brave are afraid, so much terror does he bring. As he gloated over his bloody slaughter, I met him in close combat and knocked him flat with a huge stone. When he demanded an opponent, I alone stood up to him. And you, Greeks, prayed that I would be chosen¹⁰⁶², and your prayers were answered. If you ask how the fight ended, he did not defeat me.

“Lo! the Trojans bring fire and sword, and Jove, as well, against the Grecian fleet. Where is now the eloquent Ulysses? I, forsooth, protected a thousand ships, the hopes of your return, with my breast. Grant me the arms, in return for so many ships. But, if I may be allowed to speak the truth, a greater honour is sought for them than is for me, and our glory is united; and Ajax is sought for the arms, and not the arms by Ajax. Let the Ithacan Ulysses compare with these things Rhesus,¹⁰⁶³ and the unwarlike Dolon,¹⁰⁶⁴ and Helenus,¹⁰⁶⁵ the son of Priam, made captive with the ravished Pallas. By daylight nothing was done; nothing when Diomedes was afar. If once you give these arms for services so mean, divide them, and that of Diomedes would be the greater share of them. But, why these for the Ithacan? who, by stealth and unarmed, ever does his work, and deceives the unwary enemy by stratagem? The very brilliancy of his helmet, as it sparkles with bright gold, will betray his plans, and discover him as he lies hid. But neither will the Dulichian¹⁰⁶⁶ head, beneath the helm of Achilles, sustain a weight so great; and the spear¹⁰⁶⁷ from Pelion must be heavy and burdensome for unwarlike arms. Nor will the shield, embossed with the form of the great globe, beseem a dastard left hand, and one formed for theft. Why then, caitiff, dost thou ask for a gift that will but weaken thee? should the mistake of the Grecian people bestow it on thee, there would be a cause for thee to be stripped, not for thee to be dreaded by the enemy. Thy flight, too, (in which, alone, most dastardly wretch! thou dost excel all others,) will be retarded, when dragging a load so great. Besides, that shield of thine, which has so rarely experienced the conflict, is unhurt; for mine, which is gaping in a thousand wounds from bearing the darts, a new successor must be obtained. In fine, what need is there for words? Let us be tried in action. Let the arms of that brave hero be thrown in the midst of the enemy: order them to be fetched thence, and adorn him that brings them back, with them so brought off.”

“Look! The Trojans are attacking the Grecian fleet with fire and sword, and with Jove as well. Where is the eloquent Ulysses now? I, of course, stood between a thousand ships and the enemy, protecting your hopes of returning home. Give me the arms in return for saving so many ships. But, if I may speak the truth, the arms would gain more honor from me than I from them. Our glory is joined, and the arms need Ajax, not Ajax the arms. Let the Ithacan Ulysses compare my deeds with his: Rhesus,¹⁰⁶³ the unwarlike Dolon,¹⁰⁶⁴ and Helenus,¹⁰⁶⁵ Priam’s son, captured along with the stolen Pallas. He did nothing by daylight, and nothing without Diomedes nearby. If you award these arms for such small services, divide them. Diomedes would deserve the larger share. But why give them to the Ithacan? He always works by stealth and without arms, tricking the unwary enemy with schemes. The bright gold of the helmet will give away his plans and reveal him in hiding. And the Dulichian¹⁰⁶⁶ head could not bear the great weight of Achilles’ helmet. The spear¹⁰⁶⁷ from Pelion must be heavy and burdensome for arms unused to war. Nor will the shield, embossed with the image of the great globe, suit a coward’s left hand, made for theft. Why then, scoundrel, do you ask for a gift that will only weaken you? If the Grecian people make the mistake of giving you the arms, the enemy will have reason to strip you, not fear you. Your flight, too, will be slowed by the great load you drag along. In flight alone, most cowardly wretch, you surpass all others. Besides, your shield is undamaged because it has seen battle so rarely. Mine is split open by a thousand wounds from the spears it has borne, and I need a new one to replace it. In short, why do we need words? Let us be tested in action. Throw the arms of that brave hero among the enemy. Order us to fetch them, and give them to the man who brings them back.”

The son of Telamon had now ended, and a murmur among the multitude ensued upon his closing words, until the Laërtian hero stood up, and fixing his eyes, for a short time, on the ground, raised them towards the chiefs, and opened his mouth in the accents that were looked for; nor was gracefulness wanting to his eloquent words.

The son of Telamon had now finished speaking, and his closing words stirred a murmur through the crowd. Then the Laërtian hero stood up. He looked at the ground for a moment, then raised his eyes to the chiefs. He began the speech they had been waiting for, and his eloquent words were graceful too.

“If my prayers had been of any avail together with yours, Pelasgians, the successor to a prize so great would not now be in question, and thou wouldst now be enjoying thine arms, and we thee, O Achilles. But since the unjust Fates have denied him to me and to yourselves, (and here he wiped his eyes with his hands as though shedding tears,) who could better succeed the great Achilles than he through whom¹⁰⁶⁸ the great Achilles joined the Greeks? Only let it not avail him that he seems to be as stupid as he really is; and let not my talents, which ever served you, O Greeks, be a prejudice to me: and let this eloquence of mine, if there is any, which now pleads for its possessor, and has often done so for yourselves, stand clear of envy, and let each man not disown his own advantages. For as to descent and ancestors, and the things which we have not made ourselves, I scarce call these our own. But, indeed, since Ajax boasts that he is the great grandson of Jove, Jupiter, too, is the founder of my family, and by just as many degrees am I distant from him. For Laërtes is my father, Arcesius his, Jupiter his; nor was any one of these ever condemned¹⁰⁶⁹ and banished. Through the mother,¹⁰⁷⁰ too, Cyllenian Mercury, another noble stock, is added to myself. On the side of either parent there was a God. But neither because I am more nobly born on my mother’s side, nor because my father is innocent of his brother’s blood, do I claim the arms now in question. By personal merit weigh the cause. So that it be no merit in Ajax that Telamon and Peleus were brothers; and so that not consanguinity, but the honour of merit, be regarded in the disposal of these spoils. Or if nearness of relationship and the next heir is sought, Peleus is his sire, and Pyrrhus is his son. What room, then, is there for Ajax? Let them be taken to Phthia¹⁰⁷¹ or to Scyros. Nor is Teucer¹⁰⁷² any less a cousin of Achilles than he; and yet does he sue for, does he expect to bear away the arms?

“If my prayers and yours had been answered, Pelasgians, there would be no question of who should receive this great prize now. You would be enjoying your arms, O Achilles, and we would be enjoying your company. But the unjust Fates have denied him to me and to you.” (Here he wiped his eyes with his hands as though shedding tears.) “Who could better succeed the great Achilles than the man who persuaded¹⁰⁶⁸ him to join the Greeks? But do not let Ajax benefit from seeming as stupid as he really is. And do not hold my talents against me, talents that have always served you, O Greeks. If I have any eloquence, it pleads for me now and has often done so for you. Let it be free from envy, and let no man reject his own advantages. “For as to descent and ancestors, and things we have not made ourselves, I hardly call them our own. But since Ajax boasts that he is the great-grandson of Jove, Jupiter is also the founder of my family. I am descended from him by the same number of generations. Laërtes is my father, Arcesius was his father, and Jupiter was the father of Arcesius. None of them was ever condemned¹⁰⁶⁹ and banished. On my mother’s side,¹⁰⁷⁰ I also have another noble ancestor, Cyllenian Mercury. I have a God on each parent’s side. But I do not claim the arms now in question because my mother’s family is nobler. Nor do I claim them because my father is innocent of his brother’s blood. Judge the case by personal merit. “So do not count it as a merit in Ajax that Telamon and Peleus were brothers. Let merit and honor, not blood ties, decide who receives these spoils. Or, if you seek the closest relative and the next heir, Peleus is Achilles’ father and Pyrrhus his son. What claim, then, does Ajax have? Let the arms be taken to Phthia¹⁰⁷¹ or to Scyros. Teucer¹⁰⁷² is no less a cousin of Achilles than Ajax is. Yet does he ask for the arms? Does he expect to carry them away?

“Since then the contest is simply one of deeds; I, in truth, have done more than what it is easy for me to comprise in words. Yet I shall proceed in the order of events. Thetis, the Nereid mother, prescient of coming death, conceals her son by his dress. The disguise of the assumed dress deceived all, among whom was Ajax. Amid woman’s trinkets I mixed arms such as would affect the mind of a man. And not yet had the hero thrown aside the dress of a maiden, when, as he was brandishing a shield and a spear, I said, ‘O son of a Goddess, Pergamus reserves itself to fall through thee. Why, then, dost thou delay to overthrow the mighty Troy?’ And then I laid my hands on him, and to brave deeds I sent forth the brave. His deeds then are my own. ’Twas I that subdued Telephus, as he fought with his lance; ’twas I that recovered him, vanquished, and begging for his life. That Thebes has fallen, is my doing. Believe me, that I took Lesbos, that I took Tenedos, Chrysa¹⁰⁷³ and Cylla, cities of Apollo, and Scyros too. Consider too, that the Lyrnessian¹⁰⁷⁴ walls were levelled with the ground, shaken by my right hand. And, not to mention other things, ’twas I, in fact, that found one who might slay the fierce Hector; through me the renowned Hector lies prostrate. By those arms through which Achilles was found out, I demand these arms. To him when living I gave them; after his death I ask them back again.

“Since this contest is simply about deeds, I have done more than I can easily put into words. But I will tell the story in order. Thetis, the Nereid mother, foresaw her son’s death and hid him in disguise. His assumed dress deceived everyone, including Ajax. Among women’s trinkets, I placed weapons that would appeal to a man. The hero had not yet taken off his maiden’s dress when he began brandishing a shield and spear. I said, ‘O son of a Goddess, Pergamus is destined to fall at your hands. Why then do you delay in overthrowing mighty Troy?’ And then I seized him and sent the brave man out to perform brave deeds. His deeds, then, are my own. I subdued Telephus as he fought with his lance. I healed him when he was defeated and begging for his life. Thebes fell because of me. Believe me, I took Lesbos, Tenedos, Chrysa¹⁰⁷³ and Cylla, cities of Apollo, and Scyros too. Remember, too, that my own hand shook the Lyrnessian¹⁰⁷⁴ walls and leveled them to the ground. And, to say nothing of my other deeds, I found the man who could kill fierce Hector. Because of me, the renowned Hector lies dead. I used weapons to discover Achilles. By those weapons, I claim these arms. I gave them to him when he was alive. Now that he is dead, I ask for them back.

“After the grief of one¹⁰⁷⁵ had reached all the Greeks, and a thousand ships had filled the Eubœan Aulis, the breezes long expected were either not existing or adverse to the fleet; and the ruthless oracles commanded Agamemnon to slay his innocent daughter for the cruel Diana. This the father refuses, and is enraged against the Gods themselves, and, a king, he is still a father. By my words I swayed the gentle disposition of the parent to the public advantage. Now, indeed, I make this confession, and let the son of Atreus forgive me as I confess it; before a partial judge I upheld a difficult cause. Yet the good of the people and his brother, and the supreme power of the sceptre granted to him, influence him to balance praise against blood. I was sent, too, to the mother, who was not to be persuaded, but to be deceived with craft; to whom, if the son of Telamon had gone, until even now would our sails have been without wind. A bold envoy, too, I was sent to the towers of Ilium, and the senate-house of lofty Troy was seen and entered by me; and still was it filled with their heroes. Undaunted, I pleaded the cause which all Greece had entrusted to me; and I accused Paris, and I demanded back the plunder, and Helen as well; and I moved Priam and Antenor¹⁰⁷⁶, related to Priam. But Paris and his brothers, and those who, under him, had been ravishers, scarce withheld their wicked hands; and this thou knowest, Menelaüs, and that was the first day of my danger in company with thee. It were a tedious matter to relate the things which, by my counsel and my valour, I have successfully executed in the duration of this tedious warfare.

“After one man’s grief¹⁰⁷⁵ had reached all the Greeks, a thousand ships gathered at Aulis in Eubœa. The winds they had long expected either failed to blow or blew against the fleet. The ruthless oracles ordered Agamemnon to kill his innocent daughter for the cruel Diana. Her father refused and raged against the gods themselves. Though a king, he was still a father. With my words, I persuaded the tenderhearted father to put the common good first. I admit it now, and may the son of Atreus forgive my admission. I argued a difficult case before a judge who was not impartial. Yet the good of the people, his brother, and the supreme power granted to him swayed him. He weighed glory against his daughter’s blood. I was also sent to her mother, who could not be persuaded but had to be tricked. If the son of Telamon had gone to her, our sails would still be without wind. I was also sent as a bold envoy to the towers of Ilium. I saw and entered the council chamber of lofty Troy while it was still filled with its heroes. Without fear, I pleaded the cause all Greece had entrusted to me. I accused Paris and demanded the return of the stolen goods and Helen as well. I moved Priam and his kinsman Antenor¹⁰⁷⁶. But Paris, his brothers, and those who had joined him in the abduction could scarcely hold back their wicked hands. Menelaüs, you know this, and that was the first day we faced danger together. It would take too long to tell all I have accomplished through my counsel and courage during this long war.

“After the first encounter, the enemy for a long time kept themselves within the walls of the city, and there was no opportunity for open fight. At length, in the tenth year we fought. And what wast thou doing in the mean time, thou, who knowest of nothing but battles? what was the use of thee? But if thou inquirest into my actions: I lay ambuscades for the enemy; I surround the trenches¹⁰⁷⁷ with redoubts; I cheer our allies that they may bear with patient minds the tediousness of a protracted war; I show, too, how we are to be supported, and how to be armed; I am sent¹⁰⁷⁸ whither necessity requires. Lo! by the advice of Jove, the king, deceived by a form in his sleep, commands him to dismiss all care of the war thus begun. He is enabled, through the author of it, to defend his own cause. Ajax should not have allowed this, and should have demanded that Troy be razed. And he should have fought, the only thing he could do. Why, does he not stop them when about to depart? Why does he not take up arms, and why not suggest some course for the fickle multitude to pursue? This was not too much for him, who never says any thing but what is grand. Well, and didst thou take to flight? I was witness of it, and ashamed I was to see, when thou wast turning thy back, and wast preparing the sails of disgrace. Without delay, I exclaimed, ‘What are you doing? What madness made you, O my friends, quit Troy, well nigh taken? And what, in this tenth year, are you carrying home but disgrace?’

“After the first encounter, the enemy stayed inside the city walls for a long time. There was no chance to fight them in the open. At last, in the tenth year, we fought. And what were you doing in the meantime, you who know nothing but fighting? What use were you? But if you ask what I did: I set ambushes for the enemy. I surround the trenches¹⁰⁷⁷ with fortified positions. I encourage our allies to bear the weariness of a long war with patience. I show them too how we are to be supplied and armed. I am sent¹⁰⁷⁸ wherever I am needed. Look! By Jove’s design, a vision in a dream deceives the king and tells him to abandon the war he has begun. The king can defend his decision by naming the one who prompted it. Ajax should not have allowed this. He should have demanded that Troy be destroyed. And he should have fought, the only thing he could do. Why does he not stop the men as they prepare to leave? Why does he not take up arms? Why does he not suggest a course for the fickle crowd to follow? Surely that was not too much for a man who never speaks except in grand terms. Well, did you flee too? I saw you, and I was ashamed to see you turn your back and prepare those disgraceful sails. At once I cried, ‘What are you doing? What madness made you, my friends, leave Troy when it was nearly taken? And in this tenth year, what are you carrying home but disgrace?’

“With these and other words, for which grief itself had made me eloquent, I brought back the resisting Greeks from the flying fleet. The son of Atreus calls together his allies, struck with terror; nor, even yet, does the son of Telamon dare to utter a word; yet Thersites¹⁰⁷⁹ dares to launch out against the kings with impudent remarks, although not unpunished by myself. I am aroused, and I incite the trembling citizens against the foe, and by my voice I reclaim their lost courage. From that time, whatever that man, whom I drew away as he was turning his back, may seem to have done bravely, is all my own. In fine, who of the Greeks is either praising thee, or resorts to thee; but with me the son of Tydeus shares his exploits; he praises me, and is ever confident while Ulysses is his companion. It is something, out of so many thousands of the Greeks, to be singled out alone by Diomedes. Nor was it lot that ordered me to go forth; and yet, despising the dangers of the night and of the enemy, I slew Dolon, one of the Phrygian race, who dared the same things that we dared; though not before I had compelled him¹⁰⁸⁰ to disclose everything, and had learned what perfidious Troy designed. Everything had I now discovered, and I had nothing further to find out, and I might now have returned, with my praises going before me. Not content with that, I sought the tent of Rhesus, and in his own camp slew himself and his attendants. And thus, as a conqueror, and having gained my own desires, I returned in the captured chariot, resembling a joyous triumph. Deny me the arms of him whose horses the enemy had demanded as the price for one night’s service; and let Ajax be esteemed your greater benefactor.

“With these and other words, grief itself made me eloquent. I used them to turn the reluctant Greeks back from the fleeing fleet. The terrified son of Atreus calls his allies together. Even now, the son of Telamon does not dare to speak. Yet Thersites¹⁰⁷⁹ dares to make insolent remarks against the kings, though I do not let him go unpunished. I rouse myself and urge the trembling citizens against the enemy. With my voice, I restore their lost courage. From that time on, whatever brave deeds that man may seem to have done are all mine. After all, I pulled him back as he was turning away. Finally, which of the Greeks praises you or turns to you? The son of Tydeus shares his exploits with me. He praises me and is always confident when Ulysses is his companion. It means something to be the only one Diomedes chose from so many thousands of Greeks. I was not chosen by lot to go out. Yet, disregarding the dangers of the night and the enemy, I killed Dolon, one of the Phrygian race. He had dared to do what we had dared. But first, I forced him¹⁰⁸⁰ to tell me everything and learned what treacherous Troy was planning. I had now discovered everything and had nothing more to find out. I could have returned then, with praise preceding me. But I was not satisfied. I sought out the tent of Rhesus and killed him and his attendants in his own camp. So I returned victorious in the captured chariot, having gained what I wanted. It was like a joyful triumph. Deny me the arms of the man whose horses the enemy had demanded as payment for one night’s service. Let Ajax be esteemed your greater benefactor.”

“Why should I make reference to the troops of Lycian Sarpedon,¹⁰⁸¹ mowed down by my sword? With much bloodshed I slew Cœranos, the son of Iphitus, and Alastor, and Chromius, and Alcander, and Halius, and Noëmon, and Prytanis, and I put to death Thoön, with Chersidamas, and Charops, and Ennomos, impelled by his relentless fate; five of less renown fell by my hand beneath the city walls. I, too, fellow-citizens, have wounds, honourable in their place.¹⁰⁸² Believe not his crafty words; here! behold them.” And then, with his hand, he pulls aside his garment, and, “this is the breast,” says he, “that has been ever employed in your service.”

“Why should I mention the troops of Lycian Sarpedon,¹⁰⁸¹ whom I cut down with my sword? I shed much blood as I killed Cœranos, the son of Iphitus, and Alastor, Chromius, Alcander, Halius, Noëmon, and Prytanis. I also killed Thoön, Chersidamas, Charops, and Ennomos, driven on by his relentless fate. Five less famous men fell by my hand beneath the city walls. I, too, fellow citizens, have wounds in honorable places.¹⁰⁸² Do not believe his crafty words. Here, look at my wounds.” And then he pulls aside his garment with his hand and says, “This is the chest that has always served you.”

“But the son of Telamon has spent none of his blood on his friends for so many years, and he has a body without a single wound.¹⁰⁸³ But what signifies that, if he says that he bore arms for the Pelasgian fleet against both the Trojans and Jupiter himself? I confess it, he did bear them; nor is it any part of mine with malice to detract from the good deeds of others; but let him not alone lay claim to what belongs to all, and let him give to yourselves, as well, some of the honour. The descendant of Actor, safe under the appearance of Achilles, repelled the Trojans, with their defender, from the ships on the point of being burnt. He, too, unmindful of the king, and of the chiefs, and of myself, fancies that he alone dared to engage¹⁰⁸⁴ with Hector in combat, being the ninth in that duty, and preferred by favour of the lot. But yet, most brave chief, what was the issue of thy combat? Hector came off, injured by no wound. Ah, wretched me! with how much grief am I compelled to recollect that time at which Achilles, the bulwark of the Greeks, was slain: nor tears, nor grief, nor fear, hindered me from carrying his body aloft from the ground; on these shoulders, I say, on these shoulders I bore the body of Achilles, and his arms together with him, which now, too, I am endeavouring to bear off. I have strength to suffice for such a weight, and, assuredly, I have a soul that will be sensible of your honours.

“But the son of Telamon has shed none of his blood for his friends in all these years. He does not have a single wound on his body.¹⁰⁸³ But what does that matter, if he says he fought for the Pelasgian fleet against both the Trojans and Jupiter himself? I admit that he did. I have no wish to spitefully belittle the good deeds of others. But he should not claim for himself alone what belongs to all. He should give you some of the honor too. The descendant of Actor, protected by his likeness to Achilles, drove the Trojans and their defender away from the ships, which were about to be burned. He too forgets the king, the chiefs, and me. He imagines that he alone dared to fight¹⁰⁸⁴ Hector. Yet he was the ninth to take on that duty, and he was chosen by a favorable lot. But what was the result of your combat, most brave chief? Hector came away without a wound. “Ah, wretched me! How painfully I must recall the time when Achilles, the bulwark of the Greeks, was killed. Neither tears, nor grief, nor fear stopped me from lifting his body from the ground. On these shoulders, I say, on these shoulders I carried the body of Achilles and his arms with him. Even now, I am trying to carry off those arms. I have strength enough for such a weight, and surely I have a spirit that will appreciate the honors you bestow.

“Was then, forsooth! his azure mother so anxious in her son’s behalf that the heavenly gifts, a work of so great ingenuity, a rough soldier, and one without any genius, should put on? For he will not understand the engravings on the shield; the ocean, and the earth, and the stars with the lofty heavens and the Pleïades, and the Hyades, and the Bear that avoids the sea, and the different cities, and the blazing sword of Orion; arms he insists on receiving, which he does not understand. What! and does he charge that I, avoiding the duties of this laborious war, came but late to the toil begun? and does he not perceive that in this he is defaming the brave Achilles? If he calls dissembling a crime, we have both of us dissembled. If delay stands for a fault, I was earlier than he. A fond wife detained me, a fond mother Achilles. The first part of our time was given to them, the rest to yourselves. I am not alarmed, if now I am unable to defend myself against this accusation, in common with so great a man. Yet he was found out by the dexterity of Ulysses, but not Ulysses by that of Ajax.

“Was his sea-blue mother really so anxious for her son that a rough soldier with no talent should wear the gifts of heaven, crafted with such skill? He will not understand the engravings on the shield: the ocean, the earth, the stars in the high heavens, the Pleïades, the Hyades, the Bear that never enters the sea, the different cities, and Orion’s blazing sword. He insists on receiving armor he does not understand. “And does he accuse me of avoiding the duties of this grueling war and joining the struggle late? Does he not realize that in this he is insulting the brave Achilles? If he calls deception a crime, we both practiced it. If delay is a fault, I came before Achilles. A loving wife held me back, and a loving mother held Achilles back. We gave the first part of our time to them and the rest to you. I am not worried if I cannot defend myself against a charge I share with so great a man. Yet Ulysses was clever enough to find Achilles, but Ajax was not clever enough to find Ulysses.”

“And that we may not be surprised at his pouring out on me the reproaches of his silly tongue, against you, too, does he make objections worthy of shame. Is it base for me, with a false crime to have charged Palamedes, and honourable for you to have condemned him? But neither could Palamedes, the son of Nauplius, defend a crime so great, and so manifest; nor did you only hear the charges against him, but you witnessed them, and in the bribe itself the charge was established. Nor have I deserved to be accused, because Lemnos, the isle of Vulcan, still receives Philoctetes, the son of Pœas. Greeks, defend your own acts! for you consented to it. Nor yet shall I deny that I advised him to withdraw himself from the toils of the warfare and the voyage, and to try by rest to assuage his cruel pains. He consented, and still he lives. This advice was not only well-meant, but it was fortunate as well, when ’twas enough to be well-meant. Since our prophets demand him for the purpose of destroying Troy, entrust not that to me. The son of Telamon will be better to go, and by his eloquence will soften the hero, maddened by diseases and anger, or by some wile will skilfully bring him thence. Sooner will Simoïs flow backward, and Ida stand without foliage, and Achaia promise aid to Troy, than, my breast being inactive in your interest, the skill of stupid Ajax shall avail the Greeks.

“And so you will not be surprised that he pours out insults against me with his foolish tongue, he also makes shameful accusations against you. Is it dishonorable for me to have falsely accused Palamedes of a crime, and honorable for you to have condemned him? But Palamedes, the son of Nauplius, could not defend himself against a crime so great and so obvious. Nor did you only hear the charges against him. You witnessed them, and the bribe itself proved the charge. Nor do I deserve blame because Lemnos, the island of Vulcan, still shelters Philoctetes, the son of Pœas. Greeks, defend your own actions! You consented to leaving him there. I will not deny that I advised him to leave behind the hardships of war and the voyage. I urged him to try to ease his cruel pain through rest. He agreed, and still he lives. This advice was not only well-meant, but it was fortunate too, though good intentions would have been enough. Now our prophets say we need him to destroy Troy, so do not entrust that task to me. The son of Telamon would be better suited to go. His eloquence will soften the hero, who is maddened by disease and anger, or he will skillfully bring him back by some trick. Simoïs will flow backward, Ida will lose its foliage, and Achaia will promise aid to Troy before I do nothing in your interest and the skill of stupid Ajax helps the Greeks.”

“Though thou be, relentless Philoctetes, enraged against thy friends and the king, and myself, though thou curse and devote my head, everlastingly, and though thou wish to have me in thy anguish thrown in thy way perchance, and to shed my blood; and though if I meet thee, so thou wilt have the opportunity of meeting me, still will I attempt thee, and will endeavour to bring thee back with me. And, if Fortune favours me, I will as surely be the possessor of thy arrows, as I was the possessor of the Dardanian prophet¹⁰⁸⁵ whom I took prisoner; and so I revealed the answers of the Deities and the fates of Troy; and as I carried off the hidden statue¹⁰⁸⁶ of the Phrygian Minerva from the midst of the enemy. And does Ajax, then, compare himself with me? The Fates, in fact, would not allow Troy to be captured without that statue. Where is the valiant Ajax? where are the boastful words of that mighty man? Why art thou trembling here? Why dares Ulysses to go through the guards, and to entrust himself to the night, and, through fell swords, to enter not only the walls of Troy, but even its highest towers, and to tear the Goddess from her shrine, and, thus torn, to bear her off amid the enemy?

“Relentless Philoctetes, you are angry with your friends, the king, and me. You curse me and call down eternal damnation on my head. In your anguish, you wish that I might perhaps be thrown in your path, so you could shed my blood. And if I meet you, you will have the chance to do so. Even so, I will try to approach you and bring you back with me. And if Fortune favors me, I will surely possess your arrows. I did as much when I captured the Dardanian prophet¹⁰⁸⁵ and revealed the answers of the Deities and the fates of Troy. And I did as much when I carried off the hidden statue¹⁰⁸⁶ of the Phrygian Minerva from among the enemy. And does Ajax then compare himself with me? The Fates would not allow Troy to be captured without that statue. Where is the valiant Ajax? Where are that mighty man's boastful words? Why are you trembling here? Why does Ulysses dare to slip past the guards and trust himself to the night? Why does he dare to go through deadly swords into Troy, and even into its highest towers? Why does he dare to tear the Goddess from her shrine and carry her away amid the enemy?

“Had I not done these things, in vain would the son of Telamon been bearing the seven hides of the bulls on his left arm. On that night was the victory over Troy gained by me; then did I conquer Pergamus, when I rendered it capable of being conquered. Forbear by thy looks,¹⁰⁸⁷ and thy muttering, to show me the son of Tydeus; a part of the glory in these things is his own. Neither wast thou alone, when for the allied fleet thou didst grasp thy shield: a multitude was attending thee, while but one fell to me: who, did he not know that a fighting man is of less value than a wise one, and that the reward is not the due of the invincible right hand, would himself, too, have been suing for these arms; the more discreet Ajax would have been suing, and the fierce Eurypilus,¹⁰⁸⁸ and the son of the famous Andremon;¹⁰⁸⁹ no less, too would Idomeneus,¹⁰⁹⁰ and Meriones¹⁰⁹¹ sprung from the same land, and the brother of the greater son of Atreus have sought them. But these, brave in action, (nor are they second to thee in war,) have all yielded to my wisdom. Thy right hand is of value in war, but thy temper is one that stands in need of my direction. Thou hast strength without intelligence; I have a care for the future. Thou art able to fight; with me, the son of Atreus chooses the proper time for fighting. Thou only art of service with thy body; I with my mind: and as much as he who guides the bark, is superior to the capacity of the rower, as much as the general is greater than the soldier, so much do I excel thee; and in my body there is an intellect that is superior to hands: in that lies all my vigour.

“Had I not done these things, the son of Telamon would have carried the seven bull hides on his left arm in vain. That night, I won the victory over Troy. I conquered Pergamus when I made it possible to conquer it. Stop pointing me toward the son of Tydeus with your looks¹⁰⁸⁷ and your muttering. He deserves a share of the glory for these deeds. Nor were you alone when you took up your shield for the allied fleet. A crowd was with you, while only one man went with me. He knows that a fighting man is worth less than a wise one. He also knows that the reward is not owed to an invincible right hand. If he did not know this, he too would have been seeking these arms. The more discreet Ajax would have sought them too, as would the fierce Eurypilus¹⁰⁸⁸ and the son of the famous Andremon.¹⁰⁸⁹ Idomeneus,¹⁰⁹⁰ Meriones¹⁰⁹¹ from the same land, and the brother of the greater son of Atreus would have sought them no less. But all these men have yielded to my wisdom. They are brave in action, and none is second to you in war. Your right hand is valuable in war, but your temper needs my guidance. You have strength without intelligence. I think ahead. You can fight. But the son of Atreus relies on me to choose the right time for fighting. You serve only with your body. I serve with my mind. The man who steers a ship is more capable than the rower, and the general is greater than the soldier. By that same measure, I surpass you. And within my body is a mind superior to any hands. In that lies all my strength.”

“But you, ye chieftains, give the reward to your watchful servant; and for the cares of so many years which I have passed in anxiety, grant this honour as a compensation for my services. Our toil is now at its close; I have removed the opposing Fates, and by rendering it capable of being taken, in effect I have taken the lofty Pergamus. Now, by our common hopes, and the walls of the Trojans doomed to fall, and by those Gods whom lately I took from the enemy, by anything that remains, through wisdom to be done; if, too, anything remains of bold enterprize, and to be recovered from a dangerous spot; if you think that anything is still wanting for the downfall of Troy; then remember me; or if you give not me the arms, concede them to this;” and then he discovers the fatal statue of Minerva.

“But you, chieftains, give the reward to your watchful servant. Grant me this honor in return for my services and my many years of anxiety. Our work is nearly done. I have overcome the Fates that stood against us. By making lofty Pergamus vulnerable to capture, I have in effect captured it. Now, I appeal to our shared hopes, and to the Trojan walls doomed to fall. I appeal to the Gods I recently took from the enemy. I appeal to anything that still needs to be done through wisdom. If any bold deed remains, or anything remains to be recovered from a dangerous place, remember me. If you think anything is still needed to bring Troy down, remember me. Or, if you will not give me the arms, grant them to this.” And then he reveals the fatal statue of Minerva.

The body of the chiefs is moved, and then, in fact appears what eloquence can do; and the fluent man receives the arms of a brave one. He, who so often has alone withstood both Hector, and the sword, and flames, and Jove himself, cannot now withstand his wrath alone, and grief conquers the man that is invincible. He seizes his sword, and he says:— “This, at least, is my own; or will Ulysses claim this, too, for himself. This must I use against myself; and the blade, which has often been wet with the blood of the Phrygians, will now be wet with the slaughter of its owner: that no one but Ajax himself, may be enabled to conquer Ajax.”

The chiefs are persuaded, and then the power of eloquence becomes clear. The fluent speaker receives the brave man's arms. Ajax had so often stood alone against Hector, swords, flames, and Jove himself. But now he cannot stand alone against his own anger. Grief conquers the man no one can conquer. He seizes his sword and says: “This, at least, is my own. Or will Ulysses claim this sword for himself, too? I must use it against myself. The blade has often been wet with the blood of the Phrygians. Now it will be wet with its owner's blood, so that no one but Ajax himself may conquer Ajax.”

Thus he said; and he plunged the fatal sword into his breast, then for the first time suffering a wound, where it lay exposed to the steel. Nor were his hands able to draw out the weapon there fixed: the blood itself forced it out. And the earth, made red by the blood, produced a purple flower from the green turf, the same which had formerly been produced from the Œbalian wound. Letters common to that youth and to the hero, were inscribed in the middle of the leaves; the latter belonging to the name,¹⁰⁹² the former to the lamentation.

Thus he spoke and plunged the fatal sword into his breast. For the first time, his breast was exposed to steel and suffered a wound. His hands could not pull out the sword lodged there, but the blood itself forced it out. The blood reddened the earth, and a purple flower grew from the green grass. It was the same flower that had once grown from the Œbalian wound. Letters shared by that youth and the hero were inscribed in the middle of the petals. For the hero, they were part of his name,¹⁰⁹² and for the youth, they expressed lamentation.

The conqueror, Ulysses, set sail for the country of Hypsipyle,¹⁰⁹³ and of the illustrious Thoas, and the regions infamous for the slaughter there of the husbands of old; that he might bring back the arrows, the weapons of the Tirynthian hero. After he had carried them back to the Greeks, their owner attending too, the concluding hand was put, at length, to this protracted war. Troy and Priam fell together; the wretched wife of Priam lost after every thing else her human form, and alarmed a foreign air¹⁰⁹⁴ with her barkings. Where the long Hellespont is reduced into a narrow compass, Ilion was in flames; nor had the flames yet ceased; and the altar of Jove had drank up the scanty blood of the aged Priam. The priestess of Apollo¹⁰⁹⁵ dragged by the hair, extends her unavailing hands towards the heavens. The victorious Greeks drag along the Dardanian matrons, embracing, while they may, the statues of their country’s Gods, and clinging to the burning temples, an envied spoil. Astyanax¹⁰⁹⁶ is hurled from those towers from which he was often wont, when shown by his mother, to behold his father, fighting for himself, and defending the kingdom of his ancestors.

Ulysses, the conqueror, sailed to the country of Hypsipyle,¹⁰⁹³ the illustrious Thoas, and the region infamous for the slaughter of husbands there long ago. He went to bring back the arrows, the weapons of the Tirynthian hero. He brought them back to the Greeks, along with their owner. At last, the long war came to an end. Troy and Priam fell together. Priam’s wretched wife lost everything, and finally lost her human form. Her barking filled a foreign land¹⁰⁹⁴ with alarm. Ilion was in flames where the long Hellespont narrows. The flames had not yet died, and the altar of Jove had drunk the aged Priam’s scant blood. Apollo’s priestess¹⁰⁹⁵ was dragged by the hair, stretching her helpless hands toward heaven. The victorious Greeks dragged away the Dardanian matrons, a prize others envied. For as long as they could, the women embraced the statues of their country’s Gods and clung to the burning temples. Astyanax¹⁰⁹⁶ was hurled from the towers where his mother had often held him up to watch his father. From there, he had watched his father fight for him and defend the kingdom of his ancestors.

And now Boreas bids them depart, and with a favourable breeze, the sails, as they wave, resound, and the sailors bid them take advantage of the winds. “Troy, farewell!” the Trojan women cry;— “We are torn away!” and they give kisses to the soil, and leave the smoking roofs of their country. The last that goes on board the fleet, a dreadful sight, is Hecuba, found amid the sepulchres of her children. Dulichian hands have dragged her away, while clinging to their tombs and giving kisses to their bones; yet the ashes of one has she taken out, and, so taken out, has carried with her in her bosom the ashes of Hector. On the tomb of Hector she leaves the grey hair of her head, an humble offering, her hair and her tears. There is opposite to Phrygia, where Troy stood, a land inhabited by the men of Bistonia. There, was the rich palace of Polymnestor, to whom thy father, Polydorus, entrusted thee, to be brought up privately, and removed thee afar from the Phrygian arms. A wise resolution; had he not added, as well, great riches, the reward of crime, the incentive of an avaricious disposition. When the fortunes of the Phrygians were ruined, the wicked king of the Phrygians took a sword, and plunged it in the throat of his fosterchild; and, as though the crime could be removed with the body, he hurled him lifeless from a rock into the waters below.

Now Boreas calls them to depart. The sails flap and resound in a favorable breeze, and the sailors urge them to take advantage of the winds. “Troy, farewell!” the Trojan women cry. “We are torn away!” They kiss the soil and leave the smoking roofs of their country. Hecuba is the last to board the fleet, a dreadful sight. She has been found among her children’s tombs. Dulichian hands have dragged her away as she clung to the tombs and kissed their bones. Yet she has taken the ashes of one child, Hector, and carries them, so taken, against her breast. On Hector’s tomb she leaves her gray hair and her tears, a humble offering. Across from Phrygia, where Troy stood, lies a land inhabited by the men of Bistonia. There stood the rich palace of Polymnestor. Your father, Polydorus, entrusted you to him to be raised in secret, far from the fighting in Phrygia. It was a wise decision, if only he had not also sent great riches. Those riches were a reward for crime and a temptation to a greedy man. When the fortunes of the Phrygians were ruined, the wicked king of the Phrygians drew a sword. He plunged it into his foster child’s throat. Then he hurled the lifeless boy from a rock into the water below, as if disposing of the body could erase the crime.

In returning from Troy, the Greeks are stopped in Thrace by the shade of Achilles, who requests that Polyxena shall be sacrificed to his manes. While Hecuba is fetching water with which to bathe the body of her daughter, she espies the corpse of her son Polydorus. In her exasperations she repairs to the court of Polymnestor; and having torn out his eyes, is transformed into a bitch. Memnon, who has been slain by Achilles, is honoured with a magnificent funeral, and, at the prayer of Aurora, his ashes are transformed by Jupiter into birds, since called Memnonides.

On their return from Troy, the Greeks are stopped in Thrace by the ghost of Achilles. He asks that Polyxena be sacrificed in honor of his spirit. While Hecuba is fetching water to bathe her daughter’s body, she sees the corpse of her son Polydorus. Enraged, she goes to the court of Polymnestor and tears out his eyes. She is then transformed into a female dog. Memnon, who was killed by Achilles, is honored with a magnificent funeral. At Aurora’s prayer, Jupiter transforms his ashes into birds, later called Memnonides.

On the Thracian shore the son of Atreus had moored his fleet, until the sea was calm, and until the wind was more propitious. Here, on a sudden, Achilles, as great as he was wont to be when alive, rises from the ground, bursting far and wide, and, like to one threatening, revives the countenance of that time when he fiercely attacked Agamemnon with his lawless sword. “And are you departing, unmindful of me, ye Greeks?” he says; “and is all grateful remembrance of my valour buried together with me? Do not so. And that my sepulchre may not be without honour, let Polyxena slain appease the ghost of Achilles.” Thus he said; and his companions obeying the implacable shade, the noble and unfortunate maid, and more than an ordinary woman, torn from the bosom of her mother, which she now cherished almost alone, was led to the tomb, and became a sacrifice at his ruthless pile.

On the Thracian shore, the son of Atreus had anchored his fleet until the sea was calm and the wind was more favorable. Suddenly, Achilles rose from the ground, which burst open around him. He was as great as he had been in life. He looked threatening, his face once again fierce as when he attacked Agamemnon with his lawless sword. “Are you leaving without a thought for me, Greeks?” he said. “Has all grateful memory of my courage been buried with me? Do not do this. So that my tomb will not go without honor, let Polyxena be killed to appease the ghost of Achilles.” Thus he spoke, and his companions obeyed the relentless ghost. They tore the noble, unfortunate girl from her mother's embrace. She was now almost the only one her mother held close. More than an ordinary woman, Polyxena was led to the tomb and sacrificed at his ruthless funeral pyre.

She, mindful of herself, after she was brought to the cruel altar, and had perceived that the savage rites were preparing for her; and when she saw Neoptolemus standing by, and wielding his sword, and fixing his eyes upon her countenance, said— “Quickly make use of this noble blood: in me there is no resistance: and do thou bury thy weapons either in my throat or in my breast!” and, at the same time she laid bare her throat and her breast; “should I, Polyxena, forsooth,¹⁰⁹⁷ either endure to be the slave of any person, or will any sacred Deity be appeased by such a sacrifice. I only wish that my death could be concealed from my mother. My mother is the impediment; and she lessens my joys at death. Yet it is not my death, but her own life, that should be lamented by her. Only, stand ye off, lest I should go to the Stygian shades not a free woman: if in this I demand what is just; and withhold the hands of males from the contact of a virgin. My blood will be the more acceptable to him, whoever it is that you are preparing to appease by my slaughter. Yet, if the last prayers of my lips move any of you,—’tis the daughter of king Priam, and not a captive that entreats—return my body unconsumed to my mother, and let her not purchase for me with gold, but with tears, the sad privilege of a sepulchre. When in former times she could, then used she to purchase with gold.”

She remained mindful of who she was when she was brought to the cruel altar and saw the savage rites being prepared for her. She saw Neoptolemus standing nearby, wielding his sword and staring at her face. She said, “Quickly make use of this noble blood. I will not resist. Bury your weapon in my throat or my breast!” As she spoke, she bared her throat and breast. “Should I, Polyxena, really¹⁰⁹⁷ have to endure being anyone’s slave? Or will any sacred deity be appeased by such a sacrifice? I only wish my death could be kept from my mother. My mother stands in the way and lessens the joy I feel at dying. Yet she should mourn her own life, not my death. Stand back, so that I may go to the Stygian shades a free woman, if my demand is just. Keep men’s hands from touching a virgin. My blood will be more welcome to whoever you seek to appease by killing me. But if my last prayers move any of you, remember that Priam’s daughter is pleading, not a captive. Return my body to my mother without burning it. Let her purchase the sad privilege of a grave for me with tears, not gold. When she could, she used to pay with gold.”

Thus she said; but the people did not restrain those tears which she restrained. Even the priest himself, weeping and reluctant, divided her presented breast with the piercing steel. She, sinking to the earth on her failing knees, maintained an undaunted countenance to the last moment of her life. Even then was it her care, when she fell, to cover the features that ought to be concealed, and to preserve the honour of her chaste modesty. The Trojan matrons received her, and reckoned the children of Priam whom they had had to deplore; and how much blood one house had expended. And they lament thee, Oh virgin! and thee, Oh thou! so lately called a royal wife and a royal mother, once the resemblance of flourishing Asia, but now a worthless prey amid the plunder of Troy; which the conquering Ulysses would have declined as his, but that thou hadst brought Hector forth. And scarce did Hector find an owner for his mother. She, embracing the body bereft of a soul so brave, gave to that as well, those tears which so oft she had given for her country, her children, and her husband; and her tears she poured in his wounds. And she impressed kisses with her lips, and beat her breast now accustomed to it; and trailing her grey hairs in the clotted blood, many things indeed did she say, but these as well, as she tore her breast:

Thus she spoke, but the people did not hold back the tears she held back. Even the priest wept as he reluctantly pierced her offered breast with the blade. Her knees gave way, and she sank to the ground, but her face remained fearless to the last. Even as she fell, she took care to cover what should be hidden and preserve her chaste modesty. The Trojan women received her body. They counted Priam’s children they had mourned and remembered how much blood one family had shed. They mourned you, O virgin, and you, O woman! So recently you were called a royal wife and a royal mother. Once you were the image of flourishing Asia, but now you were a worthless prize among the plunder of Troy. The victorious Ulysses would have refused to claim you, had you not given birth to Hector. And Hector could scarcely find someone to claim his mother. She embraced the body that had lost its brave soul. She wept over it, as she had so often wept for her country, her children, and her husband. She poured her tears into its wounds and kissed it. She beat her breast, now accustomed to such blows, and dragged her gray hair through the clotted blood. Tearing at her breast, she said many things, including these:

“My daughter, the last affliction (for what now remains?) to thy mother: my daughter, thou liest prostrate, and I behold thy wound as my own wounds. Lo! lest I should have lost any one of my children without bloodshed, thou, too, dost receive thy wound. Still, because thou wast a woman, I supposed thee safe from the sword; and yet, a woman, thou hast fallen by the sword. The same Achilles, the ruin of Troy, and the bereaver of myself, the same has destroyed thus many of thy brothers, and thyself. But, after he had fallen by the arrows of Paris and of Phœbus, ‘Now, at least,’ I said, ‘Achilles is no longer to be dreaded;’ and yet even now, was he to be dreaded by me. The very ashes of him, as he lies buried, rage against this family; and even in the tomb have we found him an enemy. For the descendant of Æacus have I been thus prolific. Great Ilion lies prostrate, and the public calamity is completed by a dreadful catastrophe; if indeed, it is completed. Pergamus alone remains for me: and my sorrow is still in its career. So lately the greatest woman in the world, powerful in so many sons-in-law, and children¹⁰⁹⁸, and daughters-in-law, and in my husband, now I am dragged into exile, destitute, and torn away from the tombs of my kindred, as a present to Penelope. She, pointing me out to the matrons of Ithaca, as I tease my allotted task, will say, ‘This is that famous mother of Hector; this is the wife of Priam.’ And, now thou, who after the loss of so many children, alone didst alleviate the sorrows of thy mother, hast made the atonement at the tomb of the enemy. Atoning sacrifices for an enemy have I brought forth. For what purpose, lasting like iron, am I reserved? and why do I linger here? To what end dost thou, pernicious age, detain me? Why, ye cruel Deities, unless to the end that I may see fresh deaths, do ye reprieve an aged woman of years so prolonged? Who could have supposed, that after the fall of Troy, Priam could have been pronounced happy? Blessed in his death, he has not beheld thee, my daughter, thus cut off; and at the same moment, he lost his life and his kingdom.

“My daughter, you are the last sorrow for your mother. For what else remains? My daughter, you lie before me, and I see your wound as my own. Look, you too have been wounded, so that I would lose none of my children without bloodshed. Still, because you were a woman, I thought you were safe from the sword. And yet, though you were a woman, you have fallen by the sword. Achilles brought ruin to Troy and robbed me of my children. He destroyed so many of your brothers, and you too. But after he fell to the arrows of Paris and of Phœbus, I said, ‘At least now Achilles is no longer to be feared.’ Yet even now I still had reason to fear him. His very ashes rage against this family as he lies buried. Even in the tomb, he has been our enemy. I bore so many children for the descendant of Æacus. Great Ilion lies in ruins, and a terrible disaster has brought its people's suffering to an end, if indeed it has ended. Only Pergamus remains for me, and my sorrow continues. Until recently, I was the greatest woman in the world. I was powerful through my many sons-in-law, children¹⁰⁹⁸, daughters-in-law, and my husband. Now I am dragged into exile, stripped of everything and torn from my family's tombs, as a gift to Penelope. As I work at my assigned task, she will point me out to the women of Ithaca and say, ‘This is that famous mother of Hector. This is the wife of Priam.’ And now you have been sacrificed at the enemy's tomb. After the loss of so many children, you alone eased your mother's sorrows. I gave birth to children who became sacrifices to appease an enemy. Why am I kept alive, enduring like iron? Why do I linger here? Cruel old age, why do you hold me here? Cruel gods, why do you spare an old woman whose years have lasted so long? Is it only so I may see more deaths? Who could have thought that Priam could be called fortunate after the fall of Troy? Blessed in death, he has not seen you, my daughter, so cruelly killed. He lost his life and his kingdom at the same moment.

“But, I suppose, thou, a maiden of royal birth, wilt be honoured with funeral rites, and thy body will be deposited in the tombs of thy ancestors. This is not the fortune of thy house; tears and a handful of foreign sand will be thy lot, the only gifts of a mother. We have lost all; a child most dear to his mother, now alone remains as a reason for me to endure to live yet for a short time, once the youngest of all my male issue, Polydorus, entrusted on these coasts to the Ismarian king. Why, in the mean time, am I delaying to bathe her cruel wounds with the stream, her features, too, besmeared with dreadful blood?”

“But, I suppose, you, a princess, will be honored with funeral rites. Your body will be laid in your ancestors’ tombs. That is not the fate of your family. Tears and a handful of foreign sand will be your lot, the only gifts your mother can give you. We have lost everything. One child, most dear to his mother, remains. He alone gives me a reason to go on living a little longer. He was once the youngest of all my sons, Polydorus, whom I entrusted to the Ismarian king on these shores. But why am I waiting to wash her cruel wounds in the stream, and her face, too, smeared with dreadful blood?”

Thus she spoke; and with aged step she proceeded towards the shore, tearing her grey locks. “Give me an urn, ye Trojan women,” the unhappy mother had just said, in order that she might take up the flowing waters, when she beheld¹⁰⁹⁹ the body of Polydorus thrown up on the shore, and the great wounds made by the Thracian weapons. The Trojan women cried out aloud; with grief she was struck dumb; and very grief consumed both her voice and the tears that arose within; and much resembling a hard rock she became benumbed. And at one moment she fixed her eyes on the ground before her; and sometimes she raised her haggard features towards the skies; and now she viewed the features, now the wounds of her son, as he lay; the wounds especially; and she armed and prepared herself for vengeance by rage. Soon as she was inflamed by it, as though she still remained a queen, she determined to be revenged, and was wholly employed in devising a fitting form of punishment. And as the lioness rages when bereft of her sucking whelp, and having found the tracks of his feet, follows the enemy that she sees not; so Hecuba, after she had mingled rage with mourning, not forgetful of her spirit, but forgetful of her years, went to Polymnestor, the contriver of this dreadful murder, and demanded an interview; for that it was her wish to show him a concealed treasure left for him to give to her son.

Thus she spoke, then walked slowly toward the shore, tearing at her gray hair. “Give me a jar, Trojan women,” the grieving mother had just said. She wanted to collect water from the stream. But then she saw¹⁰⁹⁹ Polydorus’s body washed up on the shore, bearing great wounds from Thracian weapons. The Trojan women cried out. Grief struck her dumb, robbing her of both her voice and the tears welling up inside her. She grew numb, like a hard rock. At times she stared at the ground before her. And at other times she raised her haggard face to the sky. And now she looked at her son’s face, now at his wounds as he lay there. She looked most of all at his wounds, and rage armed and prepared her for revenge. Once her rage was aflame, she resolved to take revenge, as though she were still a queen. She gave all her thoughts to devising a fitting punishment. A lioness robbed of her nursing cub finds its tracks and follows the enemy she cannot see. In the same way, Hecuba mixed rage with mourning. Forgetting her age, but not her spirit, she went to Polymnestor, who had planned the dreadful murder. She asked to see him, saying she wanted to show him a hidden treasure left for him to give her son.

The Odrysian king believes her, and, inured to the love of gain, comes to a secret spot. Then with soothing lips, he craftily says, “Away with delays, Hecuba, and give the present to thy son; all that thou givest, and what thou hast already given, I swear by the Gods above, shall be his.” Sternly she eyes him as he speaks, and falsely swears; and she boils with heaving rage; and so flies on him, seized by a throng of the captive matrons, and thrusts her fingers into his perfidious eyes; and of their sight she despoils his cheeks, and plunges her hands into the sockets, (’tis rage that makes her strong); and, defiled with his guilty blood, she tears not his eyes, for they are not left, but the places for his eyes.

The Odrysian king believes her. Accustomed to greed, he comes to a secret spot. Then, in a soothing voice, he craftily says, “No more delays, Hecuba, and give your son the gift. I swear by the Gods above that everything you give, and everything you have already given, will be his.” She glares at him as he speaks and swears falsely. She seethes with rage. Then, with a crowd of captive matrons, she attacks him and thrusts her fingers into his treacherous eyes. She tears his eyes from his face and plunges her hands into the sockets. Rage gives her strength. Her hands are stained with his guilty blood. She tears at the places where his eyes were, not at the eyes themselves, for they are gone.

Provoked by the death of their king, the Thracian people begin to attack the Trojan matron with the hurling of darts and of stones. But she attacks the stones thrown at her with a hoarse noise, and with bites; and attempting to speak, her mouth just ready for the words, she barks aloud. The place still exists, and derives its name¹¹⁰⁰ from the circumstance; and long remembering her ancient misfortunes, even then did she howl dismally through the Sithonian plains. Her sad fortune moved both her own Trojans, and her Pelasgian foes, and all the Gods as well; so much so, that even the wife and sister of Jove herself denied that Hecuba had deserved that fate.

Angered by the death of their king, the Thracian people attack the Trojan matron with darts and stones. But she attacks the stones thrown at her, growling hoarsely and biting them. She tries to speak, but just as her mouth is ready to form words, she barks aloud. The place still exists and takes its name¹¹⁰⁰ from what happened there. Remembering her old misfortunes for a long time afterward, she howls mournfully across the Sithonian plains. Her sad fate moves both her fellow Trojans and her Pelasgian enemies, as well as all the Gods. Even Jove’s own wife and sister says that Hecuba did not deserve that fate.

Although she has favoured those same arms, there is not leisure for Aurora to be moved by the calamities and the fall of Troy. A nearer care and grief at home for her lost Memnon is afflicting her. Him his rosy-coloured mother saw perish by the spear of Achilles on the Phrygian plains. This she saw; and that colour with which the hours of the morning grow ruddy, turned pale, and the æther lay hid in clouds. But the parent could not endure to behold his limbs laid on the closing flames. But with loose hair, just as she was, she disdained not to fall down at the knees of great Jove, and to add these words to her tears: “Inferior to all the Goddesses which the golden æther does sustain, (for throughout all the world are my temples the fewest), still, a Goddess, I am come; not that thou shouldst grant me temples and days of sacrifice, and altars to be heated with fires. But if thou considerest how much I, a female, perform for thee, at the time when, with the early dawn, I keep the confines of the night, thou wouldst think that some reward ought to be given to me. But that is not my care, nor is such now the condition of Aurora such that she should demand the honours deserved by her. Bereft of my Memnon am I come; of him who, in vain, wielded valiant arms for his uncle, and who in his early years (’twas thus ye willed it,) was slain by the brave Achilles. Give him, I pray, supreme ruler of the Gods, some honour, as a solace for his death, and ease the wounds of a mother.”

Although Aurora had favored those same arms, she had no time to grieve over Troy’s suffering and fall. A grief closer to home was troubling her, the loss of her son Memnon. His rosy-colored mother saw him die by Achilles’ spear on the Phrygian plains. She saw this, and the color that makes the morning hours glow red grew pale. The sky disappeared behind clouds. Aurora could not bear to see her son’s body placed on the funeral pyre as the flames closed around it. With her hair loose, just as it was, she did not hesitate to fall at great Jove’s knees. Through her tears, she said: “I am the least of all the Goddesses who dwell in the golden heavens. I have the fewest temples in all the world. Still, I come as a Goddess, not to ask you for temples, days of sacrifice, or altars burning with fire. “But if you consider how much I, a woman, do for you, you would think I deserved some reward. For at early dawn, I keep watch over the borders of the night. But that is not my concern. Aurora is not now in a state to demand the honors she deserves. “I come to you bereft of my Memnon. He fought bravely for his uncle, but in vain. While still young, he was killed by the brave Achilles, as you Gods willed it. Supreme ruler of the Gods, I pray you, give him some honor to comfort me for his death. Ease the wounds of a mother.”

Jove nods his assent; when suddenly the lofty pile of Memnon sinks with its towering fires, and volumes of black smoke darken the light of day. Just as when the rivers exhale the rising fogs, and the sun is not admitted below them. The black embers fly, and rolling into one body, they thicken, and take a form, and assume heat and life from the flames. Their own lightness gives them wings; and first, like birds, and then real birds, they flutter with their wings. At once innumerable sisters are fluttering, whose natal origin is the same. And thrice do they go around the pile, and thrice does their clamour rise in concert into the air. In the fourth flight they separate their company. Then two fierce tribes wage war from opposite sides, and with their beaks and crooked claws expend their rage, and weary their wings and opposing breasts; and down their kindred bodies fall, a sacrifice to the entombed ashes, and they remember that from a great man they have received their birth. Their progenitor gives a name to these birds so suddenly formed, called Memnonides after him; when the Sun has run through the twelve signs of the Zodiac, they fight, doomed to perish in battle, in honour of their parent.¹¹⁰¹

Jove nods in assent. Then suddenly Memnon's tall funeral pyre collapses, its flames still towering. Clouds of black smoke darken the light of day. It is like the rising mist from rivers, which blocks the sunlight from reaching the ground. Black embers fly up, gather into a single mass, and grow dense and take shape. From the flames they gain warmth and life. Their lightness gives them wings. At first they flutter like birds, and then they become real birds. Countless sisters flutter at once, all born in the same way. Three times they circle the pyre, and three times their cries rise together into the air. On their fourth flight, they divide into two groups. Then the two fierce tribes fight each other. They vent their rage with their beaks and curved claws, wearing out their wings and their opposing breasts. Their bodies, all from the same family, fall as a sacrifice to the buried ashes. They remember that they were born from a great man. Their father gives his name to these suddenly formed birds. After him, they are called Memnonides. Whenever the Sun has passed through the twelve signs of the Zodiac, they fight in their father's honour, doomed to die in battle.¹¹⁰¹

To others, therefore, it seemed a sad thing, that the daughter of Dymas was now barking; but Aurora was intent on her own sorrows; and even now she sheds the tears of affection, and sprinkles them in dew over all the world.

So others thought it was sad that Dymas’s daughter was now barking. But Aurora was absorbed in her own sorrows. Even now, she sheds tears of affection, sprinkling them as dew over all the world.

After the taking of Troy, Æneas escapes with his father and his son, and goes to Delos. Anius, the priest of Apollo, recounts to him how his daughters have been transformed into doves, and at parting they exchange presents. The Poet here introduces the story of the daughters of Orion, who, having sacrificed their lives for the safety of Thebes, when ravaged by a plague, two young men arise out of their ashes.

After Troy falls, Æneas escapes with his father and son and goes to Delos. Anius, the priest of Apollo, tells him how his daughters were turned into doves. When Æneas leaves, they exchange gifts. The poet then tells the story of Orion’s daughters. They sacrificed their lives to save Thebes when a plague was ravaging the city. Two young men arise from their ashes.

But yet the Fates do not allow the hope of Troy to be ruined even with its walls. The Cytherean hero bears on his shoulders the sacred relics and his father, another sacred relic, a venerable burden. In his affection, out of wealth so great, he selects that prize, and his own Ascanius, and with his flying fleet is borne through the seas from Antandros,¹¹⁰² and leaves the accursed thresholds of the Thracians, and the earth streaming with the blood of Polydorus; and, with good winds and favouring tide, he enters the city of Apollo, his companions attending him.

But the Fates do not allow Troy’s hope to perish with its walls. The Cytherean hero carries the sacred relics on his shoulders, along with his father, another sacred relic and a venerable burden. Out of all his great wealth, love leads him to choose that prize and his own Ascanius. He sails from Antandros¹¹⁰² with his fleeing fleet, leaving behind the cursed doorways of the Thracians and the ground streaming with Polydorus’s blood. With good winds and a favorable tide, he enters the city of Apollo, accompanied by his companions.

Anius, by whom, as king, men were, and by whom, as priest, Phœbus was duly provided for, received him both into his temple and his house, and showed him the city and the dedicated temples, and the two trunks of trees once grasped¹¹⁰³ by Latona in her labour. Frankincense being given to the flames, and wine poured forth on the frankincense, and the entrails of slain oxen¹¹⁰⁴ being duly burnt, they repair to the royal palace, and reclining on lofty couches, with flowing wine, they take the gifts of Ceres. Then the pious Anchises says, “O chosen priest of Phœbus, am I deceived? or didst thou not have a son, also, when first I beheld these walls, and twice two daughters, so far as I remember?” To him Anius replies, shaking his temples wreathed with snow-white fillets, and says, “Thou art not mistaken, greatest hero; thou didst see me the parent of five children, whom now (so great a vicissitude of fortune affects mankind) thou seest almost bereft of all. For what assistance is my absent son to me, whom Andros, a land so called after his name, possesses, holding that place and kingdom on behalf of his father?

Anius, who ruled the people as king and served Phœbus as priest, welcomed him into both his temple and his home. He showed him the city, the dedicated temples, and the two tree trunks Latona had grasped¹¹⁰³ while giving birth. They burned frankincense, poured wine over it, and properly burned the entrails of sacrificed oxen¹¹⁰⁴. Then they went to the royal palace. There they reclined on high couches, drank freely, and ate the gifts of Ceres. Then the pious Anchises said, “O chosen priest of Phœbus, am I mistaken? When I first saw these walls, did you not have a son and four daughters, as I remember?” Anius shook his head, which was crowned with snow-white fillets. He replied, “You are not mistaken, greatest hero. You saw me as the father of five children. Now you see me almost deprived of them all. Such great changes of fortune come to mankind. For what help is my absent son to me? He lives on Andros, the land named after him, where he holds the place and kingdom for his father?

“The Delian God granted him the art of augury; to my female progeny Liber gave other gifts, exceeding both wishes and belief. For, at the touch of my daughters, all things were transformed into corn, and the stream of wine, and the berry of Minerva; and in these were there rich advantages. When the son of Atreus, the destroyer of Troy, learned this (that thou mayst not suppose that we, too, did not in some degree feel your storms) using the force of arms, he dragged them reluctantly from the bosom of their father, and commanded them to feed, with their heavenly gifts, the Argive fleet. Whither each of them could, they made their escape. Eubœa was sought by two; and by as many of my daughters, was Andros, their brother’s island, sought. The forces came, and threatened war if they were not given up. Natural affection, subdued by fear, surrendered to punishment those kindred breasts; and, that thou mayst be able to forgive a timid brother, there was no Æneas, no Hector to defend Andros, through whom you Trojans held out to the tenth year. And now chains were being provided for their captive arms. Lifting up towards heaven their arms still free, they said, ‘Father Bacchus, give us thy aid!’ and the author of their gift did give them aid; if destroying them, in a wondrous manner, be called giving aid. By what means they lost their shape, neither could I learn, nor can I now tell. The sum of their calamity is known to me: they assumed wings, and were changed into birds of thy consort,¹¹⁰⁵ the snow-white doves.”

“The Delian God gave him the art of augury. Liber gave my daughters other gifts that surpassed both wishes and belief. At my daughters’ touch, all things turned into corn, flowing wine, and Minerva’s berries. These gifts brought great wealth. When the son of Atreus, the destroyer of Troy, learned of this, he seized them by force. He tore them unwillingly from their father’s arms and ordered them to feed the Argive fleet with their heavenly gifts. So you must not think that we, too, were untouched by your storms. Each daughter escaped wherever she could. Two went to Eubœa, and two sought Andros, their brother’s island. The forces arrived and threatened war unless the sisters were handed over. Fear overcame family love, and their brother handed his sisters over to punishment. You may forgive a frightened brother. Andros had no Æneas or Hector to defend it, as they had helped you Trojans hold out until the tenth year. Chains were being prepared for their captive arms. They raised their still free arms to heaven and said, ‘Father Bacchus, help us!’ The giver of their gift did help them, if destroying them in a wondrous way can be called help. I could not learn how they lost their human shape, and I cannot tell you now. I know only the outcome of their calamity: they grew wings and became the birds of your consort,¹¹⁰⁵ snow-white doves.”

With such and other discourse, after they have passed the time of feasting, the table being removed, they seek sleep. And they rise with the day, and repair to the oracle of Phœbus, who bids them seek the ancient mother and the kindred shores. The king attends, and presents them with gifts when about to depart; a sceptre to Anchises, a scarf and a quiver to his grandson, and a goblet to Æneas, which formerly Therses, his Ismenian guest, had sent him from the Aonian shores; this Therses had sent to him, but the Mylean Alcon had made it, and had carved it with this long device:

With this and other conversation, they pass the time of feasting. Then the table is cleared, and they go to sleep. They rise at dawn and visit the oracle of Phœbus, who tells them to seek the ancient mother and the kindred shores. The king sees them off and gives them gifts as they prepare to leave: a sceptre for Anchises, a scarf and a quiver for his grandson, and a goblet for Æneas. The king’s Ismenian guest, Therses, had sent him the goblet from the Aonian shores. The Mylean Alcon had made it and carved it with this long design:

There was a city, and you might point out its seven gates: these were in place of¹¹⁰⁶ a name, and showed what city it was. Before the city was a funeral, and tombs, and fires, and funeral piles; and matrons, with hair dishevelled and naked breasts, expressed their grief; the Nymphs, too, seem to be weeping, and to mourn their springs dried up. Without foliage the bared tree runs straight up; the goats are gnawing the dried stones. Lo! he represents the daughters of Orion in the middle of Thebes; the one, as presenting her breast, more than woman’s, with her bared throat; the other, thrusting a sword in her valorous wounds, as dying for her people, and as being borne, with an honoured funeral, through the city, and as being burnt in a conspicuous part of it; and then from the virgin embers, lest the race should fail, twin youths arising, whom Fame calls ‘Coronæ,’¹¹⁰⁷ and for their mothers’ ashes leading the funeral procession.

There was a city, and you could point out its seven gates. These stood in place of¹¹⁰⁶ a name and showed which city it was. Before the city were a funeral, tombs, fires, and funeral pyres. Women showed their grief, with disheveled hair and bare breasts. The Nymphs, too, seemed to weep and mourn their dried-up springs. A bare tree rose straight up, without leaves. Goats gnawed at the dry stones. Look! He depicts the daughters of Orion in the middle of Thebes. One bares her throat and offers her breast with courage greater than a woman’s. The other plunges a sword into her brave wounds, dying for her people. She is carried through the city in an honored funeral procession. Then she is burned in a prominent part of it. And from the virgin’s ashes, twin youths arise so that the family line will not die out. Fame calls them ‘Coronæ,’¹¹⁰⁷ and they lead the funeral procession for their mothers’ ashes.

Thus far for the figures that shine on the ancient brass; the summit of the goblet is rough with gilded acanthus. Nor do the Trojans return gifts of less value than those given; and to the priest they give an incense-box, to keep the frankincense; they give a bowl, too, and a crown, brilliant with gold and gems. Then recollecting that the Trojans, as Teucrians, derived their origin from the blood of Teucer, they make for Crete, and cannot long endure the air of that place;¹¹⁰⁸ and, having left behind the hundred cities, they desire to reach the Ausonian harbours. A storm rages, and tosses the men to and fro; and winged Aëllo frightens them, when received in the unsafe harbours of the Strophades.¹¹⁰⁹ And now, borne along, they have passed the Dulichian harbours, and Ithaca, and Same,¹¹¹⁰ and the Neritian abodes, the kingdom of the deceitful Ulysses; and they behold Ambracia,¹¹¹¹ contended for in a dispute of the Deities, which now is renowned for the Actian Apollo,¹¹¹² and the stone in the shape of the transformed judge, and the land of Dodona, vocal with its oaks; and the Chaonian bays, where the sons of the Molossian king escaped the unavailing flames, with wings attached to them.

So much for the figures that shine on the ancient bronze. The rim of the goblet is rough with gilded acanthus. The Trojans give gifts in return that are no less valuable. They give the priest an incense box for holding frankincense. They give him a bowl, too, and a crown bright with gold and gems. Then they remember that the Trojans, as Teucrians, descended from Teucer. They sail for Crete, but cannot bear its air for long.¹¹⁰⁸ Leaving its hundred cities behind, they seek the Ausonian harbours. A storm rages and tosses the men about. When they take shelter in the unsafe harbours of the Strophades, winged Aëllo frightens them.¹¹⁰⁹ Sailing on, they pass the Dulichian harbours, Ithaca, Same,¹¹¹⁰ and the Neritian dwellings, the kingdom of deceitful Ulysses. They see Ambracia,¹¹¹¹ which the gods once fought over and which is now famous for the Actian Apollo.¹¹¹² They also see the stone shaped like the transformed judge and the land of Dodona, where the oaks speak. They see the Chaonian bays, where the sons of the Molossian king escaped the flames that could not harm them, with wings attached to them.

Polyphemus, one of the Cyclops, jealous of Acis, who is in love with Galatea, kills the youth with a rock which he hurls at him; on which, his blood is changed into a river which bears his name.

Polyphemus, one of the Cyclops, is jealous of Acis, who loves Galatea. He kills the young man by throwing a rock at him. Acis’s blood then changes into a river that bears his name.

They make for the neighbouring land of the Phæacians,¹¹¹³ planted with beauteous fruit. After this, Epirus and Buthrotos,¹¹¹⁴ ruled over by the Phrygian prophet, and a fictitious Troy, are reached. Thence, acquainted with the future, all which, Helenus, the son of Priam, in his faithful instructions has forewarned them of, they enter Sicania. With three points this projects into the sea. Of these, Pachynos is turned towards the showery South: Lilybæum is exposed to the soft Zephyrs: but Peloros looks towards the Bear, free from the sea, and towards Boreas. By this part the Trojans enter; and with oars and favouring tide, at nightfall the fleet makes the Zanclæan sands. Scylla infests the right hand side, the restless Charybdis the left. This swallows and vomits forth again ships taken down; the other, having the face of a maiden, has her swarthy stomach surrounded with fierce dogs; and (if the poets have not left the whole a fiction) once on a time, too, she was a maiden. Many suitors courted her; who being repulsed, she, most beloved by the Nymphs of the ocean, went to the ocean Nymphs, and used to relate the eluded loves of the youths.

They head for the nearby land of the Phæacians,¹¹¹³ where beautiful fruit grows. After that, they reach Epirus and Buthrotos,¹¹¹⁴ ruled by the Phrygian prophet, and a replica of Troy. There, Helenus, son of Priam, faithfully warns them of all that lies ahead. Knowing this, they sail on to Sicania. Three points of land jut out from Sicania into the sea. Pachynos faces the rainy South. Lilybæum is exposed to the gentle Zephyrs. Peloros faces the Bear, which never dips into the sea, and Boreas. The Trojans approach by this part. Rowing with the help of a favorable tide, the fleet reaches the Zanclæan sands at nightfall. Scylla lurks on the right, and the restless Charybdis on the left. Charybdis swallows ships and spews them out again. Scylla has a maiden’s face, but fierce dogs surround her dark belly. And, if the poets have not invented the whole story, she too was once a maiden. Many suitors courted her, but she turned them away. She was dearly loved by the ocean Nymphs, and she would visit them and tell them of the young men whose advances she had rejected.

While Galatea¹¹¹⁵ was giving her hair be to combed, heaving sighs, she addressed her in such words as these: “And yet, O maiden, no ungentle race of men does woo thee; and as thou dost, thou art able to deny them with impunity. But I, whose sire is Nereus, whom the azure Doris bore, who am guarded, too, by a crowd of sisters, was not able, but through the waves, to escape the passion of the Cyclop;” and as she spoke, the tears choked her utterance. When, with her fingers like marble, the maiden had wiped these away, and had comforted the Goddess, “Tell me, dearest,” said she, “and conceal not from me (for I am true to thee) the cause of thy grief.” In these words did the Nereid reply to the daughter of Cratæis:¹¹¹⁶ “Acis was the son of Faunus and of the Nymph Symæthis, a great delight, indeed, to his father and his mother, yet a still greater to me. For the charming youth had attached me to himself alone, and eight birth-days having a second time been passed, he had now marked his tender cheeks with the dubious down. Him I pursued; incessantly did the Cyclop me pursue. Nor can I, shouldst thou enquire, declare whether the hatred of the Cyclop, or the love of Acis, was the stronger in me. They were equal. O genial Venus! how great is the power of thy sway. For that savage, and one to be dreaded by the very woods, and beheld with impunity by no stranger, the contemner of great Olympus with the Gods themselves, now feels what love is; and, captivated with passion for me, he burns, forgetting his cattle and his caves.

As Galatea¹¹¹⁵ was having her hair combed, she sighed and said to her companion: “And yet, maiden, the men who court you are not cruel, and you can reject them without fear. But I, whose father is Nereus and whose mother is the azure Doris, could only escape the Cyclops’s passion through the waves, though a crowd of sisters guards me.” As she spoke, tears choked her voice. The maiden wiped them away with her marble-like fingers and comforted the Goddess. “Tell me, dearest,” she said, “and do not hide from me the cause of your grief. For I am loyal to you.” The Nereid replied to the daughter of Cratæis:¹¹¹⁶ “Acis was the son of Faunus and the Nymph Symæthis. He was a great delight to his father and mother, but an even greater delight to me. For the charming youth had won my love for himself alone. He had passed eight birthdays twice over, and his young cheeks now bore the first faint down. I pursued him, while the Cyclops pursued me without rest. And if you asked me which was stronger, my hatred of the Cyclops or my love for Acis, I could not say. They were equal. O kind Venus! How great is your power. The Cyclops was a savage who struck fear into the very woods. No stranger could look upon him without coming to harm. He scorned great Olympus and the Gods themselves. Yet now he knows what love is. Captivated by passion for me, he burns with desire, forgetting his cattle and his caves.

“And now, Polyphemus, thou hast a care for thy looks, and now for the art of pleasing; now thou combest out thy stiffened hair with rakes, and now it pleases thee to cut thy shaggy beard with the sickle, and to look at thy fierce features in the water, and so to compose them. Thy love for carnage, and thy fierceness, and thy insatiate thirst for blood, now cease; and the ships both come and go in safety. Telemus, in the mean time arriving at the Sicilian Ætna, Telemus, the son of Eurymus, whom no omen had ever deceived, accosts the dreadful Polyphemus, and says, ‘The single eye that thou dost carry in the midst of thy forehead, Ulysses shall take away from thee.’ He laughed, and said, ‘O most silly of the prophets, thou art mistaken, for another has already taken it away.’ Thus does he slight him, in vain warning him of the truth; and he either burdens the shore, stalking along with huge strides, or, wearied, he returns to his shaded cave.

“And now, Polyphemus, you care about your looks and the art of pleasing. Now you comb your stiff hair with rakes. And now you like to trim your shaggy beard with a sickle. You look at your fierce face in the water and so try to soften your expression. Your love of slaughter, your fierceness, and your endless thirst for blood now cease. Ships come and go in safety. Meanwhile, Telemus arrived at Ætna in Sicily. Telemus, the son of Eurymus, had never been deceived by an omen. He approached the dreadful Polyphemus and said, ‘Ulysses will take away the single eye in the middle of your forehead.’ Polyphemus laughed and said, ‘You foolish prophet, you are mistaken, for someone else has already taken it away.’ So Polyphemus dismissed his warning, though Telemus had spoken the truth. Polyphemus either walks along the shore with huge, heavy strides or, when tired, returns to his shaded cave.

“A hill, in form of a wedge, runs out with a long projection into the sea: and the waves of the ocean flow round either side. Hither the fierce Cyclop ascended, and sat down in the middle. His woolly flocks followed, there being no one to guide them. After the pine tree,¹¹¹⁷ which afforded him the service of a staff, but more fitted for sail-yards, was laid before his feet, and his pipe was taken up, formed of a hundred reeds; all the mountains were sensible of the piping of the shepherd: the waves, too, were sensible. I, lying hid within a rock, and reclining on the bosom of my own Acis, from afar caught such words as these with my ears, and marked them so heard in my mind: ‘O Galatea, fairer than¹¹¹⁸ the leaf of the snow-white privet,¹¹¹⁹ more blooming than the meadows, more slender than the tall alder, brighter than glass, more wanton than the tender kid, smoother than the shells worn by continual floods, more pleasing than the winter’s sun, or than the summer’s shade, more beauteous than the apples, more sightly than the lofty plane tree, clearer than ice, sweeter than the ripened grape, softer than both the down of the swan, and than curdled milk, and, didst thou not fly me, more beauteous than a watered garden. And yet thou, the same Galatea, art wilder than the untamed bullocks, harder than the aged oak, more unstable than the waters, tougher than both the twigs of osier and than the white vines, more immoveable than these rocks, more violent than the torrent, prouder than the bepraised peacock, fiercer than the fire, rougher than the thistles, more cruel than the pregnant she-bear, more deaf than the ocean waves, more savage than the trodden water-snake: and, what I could especially wish to deprive thee of, fleeter not only than the deer when pursued by the loud barkings, but even than the winds and the fleeting air.

“A wedge-shaped hill juts far out into the sea, and ocean waves flow around both sides. The fierce Cyclop climbed the hill and sat down in the middle. His woolly flocks followed him, though no one guided them. He laid the pine tree¹¹¹⁷ he used as a staff at his feet. It was better suited for a ship’s sail-yards. Then he picked up his pipe, made of a hundred reeds. All the mountains felt the shepherd’s piping, and the waves felt it too. I lay hidden inside a rock, resting on the breast of my own Acis. From a distance, I heard these words and kept them in my mind: ‘O Galatea, you are fairer than¹¹¹⁸ the leaf of the snow-white privet,¹¹¹⁹ more blooming than the meadows, and more slender than the tall alder. You are brighter than glass, more playful than a young goat, and smoother than shells worn by constant water. You are more pleasing than the winter sun or the summer shade. You are lovelier than apples, more beautiful than the tall plane tree, and clearer than ice. You are sweeter than a ripe grape and softer than both swan’s down and curdled milk. If you did not flee from me, you would be lovelier than a watered garden. And yet you, Galatea, are wilder than untamed young bulls and harder than an old oak. You are more changeable than water and tougher than both willow twigs and white vines. You are more immovable than these rocks, more violent than a rushing stream, and prouder than the much-praised peacock. You are fiercer than fire, rougher than thistles, and crueler than a pregnant she-bear. You are deafer than the ocean waves and more savage than a water-snake that has been trodden on. And there is one thing above all that I wish I could take from you. You are swifter not only than a deer pursued by loud barking dogs, but even than the winds and the fleeting air.

“‘But didst thou but know me well, thou wouldst repine at having fled, and thou thyself wouldst blame thy own hesitation, and wouldst strive to retain me. I have a part of the mountain for my cave, pendent with the native rock; in which the sun is not felt in the middle of the heat, nor is the winter felt: there are apples that load the boughs; there are grapes on the lengthening vines, resembling gold; and there are purple ones as well; both the one and the other do I reserve for thee. With thine own hands thou shalt thyself gather the soft strawberries growing beneath the woodland shade; thou thyself shalt pluck the cornels of autumn, and plums not only darkened with their black juice, but even of the choicest kinds, and resembling new wax. Nor, I being thy husband, will there be wanting to thee chesnuts, nor the fruit of the arbute tree:¹¹²⁰ every tree shall be at thy service. All this cattle is my own: many, too, are wandering in the valleys: many the wood conceals: many more are penned in my caves. Nor, shouldst thou ask me perchance, could I tell thee, how many there are; ’tis for the poor man to count his cattle. For the praises of these trust not me at all; in person thou thyself mayst see how they can hardly support with their legs their distended udders. Lambs, too, a smaller breed, are in the warm folds: there are kids, too, of equal age to them in other folds. Snow-white milk I always have: a part of it is kept for drinking, another part the liquified rennet hardens. Nor will common delights, and ordinary enjoyments alone fall to thy lot, such as does, and hares, and she-goats, or a pair of doves, or a nest taken from the tree top. I have found on the mountain summit the twin cubs of a shaggy she-bear, which can play with thee, so like each other that thou couldst scarce distinguish them. These I found, and I said, ‘These for my mistress will I keep.’

“‘But if you only knew me well, you would regret fleeing. You would blame yourself for hesitating and try to keep me. I have a cave in the mountains, roofed by natural rock. The sun’s heat is not felt there at midday, nor is the winter cold. Apples weigh down the branches, and golden grapes grow on the spreading vines. There are purple grapes as well. I save both kinds for you. With your own hands you will gather soft strawberries growing in the woodland shade. You yourself will pick autumn cornels and plums. Some plums are dark with black juice, while others are of the finest kinds and look like fresh wax. With me as your husband, you will never lack chestnuts or the fruit of the arbute tree:¹¹²⁰ every tree will be at your service. All this livestock is mine. Many animals wander in the valleys, many are hidden in the woods, and many more are penned in my caves. If you happened to ask, I could not tell you how many there are. Only a poor man counts his livestock. Do not take my word for their excellence. You can see for yourself how their legs can hardly support their swollen udders. Lambs, a smaller breed, are in warm pens. There are kids of the same age as the lambs in other pens. I always have snow-white milk. Some is kept for drinking, while liquid rennet hardens the rest. Nor will you have only common pleasures and ordinary gifts, such as does, hares, she-goats, a pair of doves, or a nest taken from a treetop. On a mountain summit I found the twin cubs of a shaggy she-bear. They can play with you, and they look so alike that you could hardly tell them apart. When I found them, I said, ‘I will keep these for my mistress.’

“‘Do now but raise thy beauteous head from out of the azure sea; now, Galatea, come, and do not scorn my presents. Surely I know myself, and myself but lately I beheld in the reflection of the limpid water; and my figure¹¹²¹ pleased me as I saw it. See how huge I am. Not Jove, in heaven, is greater than this body; for thou art wont to tell how one Jupiter reigns, who he is I know not. Plenty of hair hangs over my grisly features, and, like a grove, overshadows my shoulders; nor think it uncomely that my body is rough, thick set with stiff bristles. A tree without leaves is unseemly; a horse is unseemly, unless a mane covers his tawny neck. Feathers cover the birds; their wool is an ornament to the sheep; a beard and rough hair upon their body is becoming to men. I have but one eye in the middle of my forehead, but it is like a large buckler. Well! and does not the Sun from the heavens behold all these things? and yet the Sun has but one eye. And, besides, in your seas does my father reign. Him do I offer thee for a father-in-law; only do take pity on a suppliant, and hear his prayer, for to thee alone do I give way. And I, who despise Jove, and the heavens, and the piercing lightnings, dread thee, daughter of Nereus; than the lightnings is thy wrath more dreadful to me. But I should be more patient under these slights, if thou didst avoid all men. For why, rejecting the Cyclop, dost thou love Acis? And why prefer Acis to my embraces? Yet, let him please himself, and let him please thee, too, Galatea, though I wish he could not; if only the opportunity is given, he shall find that I have strength proportioned to a body so vast. I will pull out his palpitating entrails; and I will scatter his torn limbs about the fields, and throughout thy waves, and thus let him be united to thee. For I burn: and my passion, thus slighted, rages with the greater fury; and I seem to be carrying in my breast Ætna, transferred there with all its flames; and yet, Galatea, thou art unmoved.’

“‘Just raise your beautiful head out of the blue sea. Come now, Galatea, and do not scorn my gifts. I know what I look like. Recently, I saw myself reflected in clear water, and my figure¹¹²¹ pleased me. See how huge I am. Not even Jove in heaven is bigger than I am. You often say that a Jupiter rules there, though I do not know who he is. Thick hair hangs over my grim face and shades my shoulders like a grove of trees. Do not think it ugly that my body is rough and covered with stiff bristles. A tree without leaves is ugly. A horse is ugly unless a mane covers its tawny neck. Feathers cover birds, and wool adorns sheep. A beard and rough body hair look good on men. I have only one eye in the middle of my forehead, but it is like a large shield. Well, does not the Sun look down on all these things from heaven? Yet the Sun has only one eye. And besides, my father rules your seas. I offer him to you as a father-in-law. Just take pity on a man pleading with you, and hear his prayer. You alone can make me yield. I despise Jove, the heavens, and the piercing lightning. Yet I fear you, daughter of Nereus. Your anger is more dreadful to me than lightning. But I could bear these insults better if you avoided all men. Why do you reject the Cyclop and love Acis? Why do you prefer Acis to my embrace? Still, let him please himself, and let him please you too, Galatea, though I wish he could not. If I get the chance, he will find that my strength matches my vast body. I will tear out his still-beating entrails. I will scatter his torn limbs across the fields and throughout your waves. and In this way, I will let him be joined to you. For I burn, and my passion rages even more fiercely because you have rejected it. It is as if Ætna, with all its flames, has been moved into my chest. Yet you are unmoved, Galatea.’

“Having in vain uttered such complaints (for all this I saw), he rises; and like an enraged bull, when the heifer is taken away from him, he could not stand still, and he wandered in the wood, and the well known forests. When the savage monster espied me, and Acis unsuspecting and apprehensive of no such thing; and he exclaimed:— ‘I see you, and I shall cause this to be the last union for your affection.’ And that voice was as loud as an enraged Cyclop ought, for his size, to have. Ætna trembled at the noise; but I, struck with horror, plunged into the adjoining sea. The hero, son of Symæthis, turned his back and fled, and cried,— ‘Help me, Galatea, I entreat thee; help me, ye parents of hers; and admit me, now on the point of destruction, within your realms.’ The Cyclop pursued, and hurled a fragment, torn from the mountain; and though the extreme angle only of the rock reached him, yet it entirely crushed Acis. But I did the only thing that was allowed by the Fates to be done, that Acis might assume the properties of his grandsire. The purple blood flowed from beneath the rock, and in a little time the redness began to vanish; and at first it became the colour of a stream muddied by a shower; and, in time, it became clear. Then the rock, that had been thrown, opened, and through the chinks, a reed vigorous and stately arose, and the hollow mouth of the rock resounded with the waters gushing forth. And, wondrous event! a youth suddenly emerged, as far as the midriff, having his new-made horns encircled with twining reeds. And he, but that he was of larger stature, and azure in all his features, was Acis still. But, even then, still it was Acis, changed into a river; and the stream has since retained that ancient name.”

“After making these complaints in vain, he rose. I saw all this. Like an enraged bull robbed of his heifer, he could not stand still. He wandered through the woods and the familiar forests. Then the savage monster spotted me and Acis, who suspected nothing and feared no such thing. He shouted: ‘I see you, and I will make this your last embrace.’ His voice was as loud as an enraged Cyclops of his size should have. Ætna trembled at the sound, but I plunged into the nearby sea in terror. The hero, son of Symæthis, turned and fled, crying, ‘Help me, Galatea, I beg you. Help me, her parents, and take me into your realm, now that I am about to die.’ The Cyclops chased him and hurled a fragment torn from the mountain. Though only the edge of the rock struck Acis, it crushed him completely. But I did the only thing the Fates allowed, so that Acis could take on the nature of his grandfather. Purple blood flowed from beneath the rock, but soon its redness began to fade. At first it became the color of a stream muddied by rain. Then it became clear. The rock the Cyclops had thrown split open, and a tall, strong reed rose through its cracks. Water gushed from the hollow opening in the rock, filling it with sound. And then, a wonder! A young man suddenly emerged, visible from the waist up, with twining reeds around his new horns. He was taller and blue all over, but he was Acis still. Even then, he was still Acis, changed into a river. The stream has kept that ancient name ever since.”

Glaucus having observed some fishes which he has laid upon the grass revive and leap again into the water, is desirous to try the influence of the grass on himself. Putting some of it into his mouth, he immediately becomes mad, and leaping into the sea, is transformed into a sea God.

Glaucus sees some fish he has laid on the grass come back to life and leap into the water. He wants to try the grass’s effect on himself. He puts some in his mouth and immediately goes mad. He leaps into the sea and is transformed into a sea god.

Galatea ceases¹¹²² speaking, and the company breaking up, they depart; and the Nereids swim in the becalmed waves. Scylla returns, (for, in truth, she does not trust herself in the midst of the ocean) and either wanders about without garments on the thirsty sand, or, when she is tired, having lighted upon some lonely recess of the sea, cools her limbs in the enclosed waves. When, lo! cleaving the deep, Glaucus comes, a new-made inhabitant of the deep sea, his limbs having been lately transformed at Anthedon,¹¹²³ near Eubœa; and he lingers from passion for the maiden now seen, and utters whatever words he thinks may detain her as she flies. Yet still she flies, and, swift through fear, she arrives at the top of a mountain, situate near the shore.

Galatea stops¹¹²² speaking, and the company breaks up and leaves. The Nereids swim in the calm waves. Scylla returns, for she does not trust herself out in the open ocean. She wanders naked on the dry sand. When she grows tired, she finds a secluded inlet and cools her limbs in its sheltered waters. Then, suddenly, Glaucus comes through the deep. His limbs were recently transformed at Anthedon,¹¹²³ near Eubœa, and he is a new inhabitant of the deep sea. He has fallen in love with the maiden he has now seen, and he lingers. As she flees, he says whatever he thinks might make her stay. Yet she keeps fleeing and, swift with fear, reaches the top of a mountain near the shore.

In front of the sea, there is a huge ridge, terminating in one summit, bending for a long distance over the waves, and without trees. Here she stands, and secured by the place, ignorant whether he is a monster or a God, she both admires his colour, and his flowing hair that covers his shoulders and his back, and how a wreathed fish closes the extremity of his groin. This he perceives; and leaning upon a rock that stands hard by, he says, “Maiden, I am no monster, no savage beast; I am a God of the waters: nor have Proteus, and Triton, and Palæmon, the son of Athamas, a more uncontrolled reign over the deep. Yet formerly I was a mortal; but, still, devoted to the deep sea, even then was I employed in it. For, at one time, I used to drag the nets that swept up the fish; at another time, seated on a rock, I managed the line with the rod. The shore was adjacent to a verdant meadow, one part of which was surrounded with water, the other with grass, which, neither the horned heifers had hurt with their browsing, nor had you, ye harmless sheep, nor you, ye shaggy goats, ever cropped it. No industrious bee took thence the collected blossoms, no festive garlands were gathered thence for the head; and no mower’s hands had ever cut it. I was the first to be seated on that turf, while I was drying the dripping nets. And that I might count in their order the fish that I had taken; I laid out those upon it which either chance had driven to my nets, or their own credulity to my barbed hooks.

Beside the sea is a huge ridge that rises to a single peak. It stretches far out over the waves and has no trees. She stands there, safe because of the place. Not knowing whether he is a monster or a God, she admires his color and his flowing hair, which covers his shoulders and back. She also admires how his lower body ends in a coiled fish’s tail. He notices this and leans against a nearby rock. He says, “Maiden, I am no monster or savage beast. I am a God of the waters. Proteus, Triton, and Palæmon, the son of Athamas, have no freer rule over the deep than I do. “Yet I was once a mortal. Even then, I was devoted to the deep sea and worked on it. Sometimes I dragged nets that swept up fish. At other times, I sat on a rock and fished with a rod and line. “Beside the shore was a green meadow, bordered on one side by water and on the other by grass. Horned heifers had never grazed there, nor had you, harmless sheep, or you, shaggy goats. No busy bee had gathered its blossoms. No flowers had been picked there to make festive garlands for the head. No mower’s hands had ever cut it. “I was the first to sit on that grass while I dried my dripping nets. I laid out my catch on it so I could count the fish one by one. Some had been driven into my nets by chance. Others had been drawn to my barbed hooks by their own trust.

“The thing is like a fiction (but of what use is it to me to coin fictions?); on touching the grass my prey began to move, and to shift their sides, and to skip about on the land, as though in the sea. And while I both paused and wondered, the whole batch flew off to the waves, and left behind their new master and the shore. I was amazed, and, in doubt for a long time, I considered what could be the cause; whether some Divinity had done this, or whether the juice of some herb. ‘And yet,’ said I, ‘what herb has these properties?’ and with my hand I plucked the grass, and I chewed it, so plucked, with my teeth. Hardly had my throat well swallowed the unknown juices, when I suddenly felt my entrails inwardly throb, and my mind taken possession of by the passions of another nature. Nor could I stay in that place; and I exclaimed, ‘Farewell, land, never more to be revisited;’ and plunged my body beneath the deep. The Gods of the sea vouchsafed me, on being received by them, kindred honours, and they entreated Oceanus and Tethys to take away from me whatever mortality I bore. By them was I purified; and a charm being repeated over me nine times, that washes away all guilt, I was commanded to put my breast beneath a hundred streams.

“This sounds like a story I made up (but what would I gain by making up stories?). When my catch touched the grass, the creatures began to move. They turned over and leaped about on land as though they were in the sea. While I stood there wondering, the whole batch darted into the waves, leaving their new master and the shore behind. I was amazed and puzzled. For a long time, I wondered what could have caused it. Had a god done it, or was it the juice of some plant? ‘And yet,’ I said, ‘what plant has such powers?’ I picked the grass with my hand and chewed it as soon as I had plucked it. I had hardly swallowed the unfamiliar juices when I suddenly felt my insides throb. Desires belonging to another nature took possession of my mind. I could not stay there. I cried, ‘Farewell, land, I will never return to you,’ and plunged into the deep. The sea gods welcomed me among them and gave me the honors due to one of their own. They asked Oceanus and Tethys to take away whatever mortality I still had. They purified me and repeated a charm over me nine times, a charm that washes away all guilt. Then they commanded me to place my breast beneath a hundred streams.

“There was no delay; rivers issuing from different springs, and whole seas, were poured over my head. Thus far I can relate to thee what happened worthy to be related, and thus far do I remember; but my understanding was not conscious of the rest. When it returned to me, I found myself different throughout all my body from what I was before, and not the same in mind. Then, for the first time, did I behold this beard, green with its deep colour, and my flowing hair, which I sweep along the spacious seas, and my huge shoulders, and my azurecoloured arms, and the extremities of my legs tapering in the form of a finny fish. But still, what does this form avail me, what to have pleased the ocean Deities, and what to be a God, if thou art not moved by these things?”

“There was no delay. Rivers from different springs and entire seas were poured over my head. I can tell you what happened up to this point, and it is worth telling. I remember that much, but I was not conscious of what followed. When my senses returned to me, I found that my whole body had changed. My mind was different too. Then, for the first time, I saw my deep green beard and my flowing hair, which I trail through the vast seas. I saw my huge shoulders, my blue arms, and my legs tapering into the form of a fish’s tail. But what good is this form to me? What good is it to have pleased the ocean gods, and to be a god, if these things do not move you?”

As he was saying such things as these, and about to say still more, Scylla left the God. He was enraged, and, provoked at the repulse, he repaired to the marvellous court of Circe, the daughter of Titan.

While he was saying these things, and before he could say more, Scylla left the god. Furious at her rejection, he went to the marvelous court of Circe, the daughter of Titan.