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This dissertation has been microfilmed exactly as received 67-6362 ROBERTS, Gildas Owen, 1932- JOSEPH OF EXETER: THE OF TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES.

The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1966 Language and Literature, general

University Microfilms. Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan (§) Copyright by

Gildas Owen Roberts 1967 JOSEPH OF EXETER THE IT,TAT) OF DARES FHRIGIUS TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of The Ohio S ta te U niversity

I*

Gildas Owen Roberts, B.A., M.A., B.Ed,

«#«****

The Ohio S ta te U niversity 1966

Approved by

J-**- Adviser Department of English ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I must thank ny adviser, Professor Francis Lee Utley, who patiently brought his encyclopaedic knowledge to bear on my effo rts* 1 must also acknowledge divers help generously given by Professor Geoffrey Rid dehough, University of B ritish Columbia; Professor E.R. Seary, Memorial University of Newfoundland; Professor Robert Estrich, The Ohio State University; Professor Clarence Forbes, The Ohio State University; Mr* Russell M iller, University of Maryland* My chief and most heartfelt thanks, however, go to my wife, Patricia, whose helpfulness, patience, fortitude and good humour are a constant example and reproach to me*

ii VITA

December 5, 1932 Born — Johannesburg, South Africa 1 9 5 1...... * B.A., University of Cape Town, South Africa 1953 ...... M.A., U niv ersity o f Cape Town, South A frica 1955 B. E d., U n iv ersity o f Cape Town, South A frica 1958-1961 . • . Senior Classics Master, Lawrence Sheriff School, Rugby, England 1961-1962 . . • Assistant Instructor, Department of Romance Languages, Hie Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1962-1964 • • • Instructor, Department of Classical Languages, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio 1964-1965 • • • Instructor, Division of Comparative Literature, The Ohio S ta te U niversity, Columbus, Ohio 1965-1966 . . . Assistant Professor, Department of English, Memorial University of Newfoundland, St. John’s, Newfoundland

FIELDSfields OF STUDY STUDY

Major Fields English (Medieval and Linguistics) Minor* L atin

i i i TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Acknowledgments 11

I, Introduction 1

I I , The T ranslation Book I 55 Book I I 77 Book I I I 102 Book 17 121 Book V 1 43 Book VI 165

III* Notes on the Translation 205

IV, Glossary 214-

Bibliography 235

iv INTRODUCTION

1. Joseph of Exeter* His Life and His Times

a. Hla life Joseph was born in Exeter, in Devon, and is called after his city Josephus Exoniensis or I sc anus, and after his county Josephus Devonius. Little is known of his life. He was educated in the city of his birth, and won the friendship and patronage of his fellow-townsman, Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was also perhaps his uncled In 1180 he went abroad to study, and while at Gueldres became the friend of the learned Abbot Guibert. One of Guibert's letters to Joseph 2 and three of Joseph's to Guibert have been preserved. The Abbot's letter presents the young Joseph as a most engaging person. Guibert writes glowingly of the "beauty and charm of his appearance, the attractiveness of his face, the elegance of his conversation, the cheerfulness of his looks, the steadfastness of his gaze, and the moderation of every gesture of his body". Joseph's first letter contains a gracious apology for not coining to visit Guibert in person, a disclaimer of the title "master", and a wish, tactfully expressed, that Guibert see to it that the monastery of Florennes, to whose abbacy he had recently been elected, should flourish. This is a smooth and gracefully eloquent letter, in which little of Joseph the man stands revealed. 1 2

In the second letter, however, we have Joseph speaking from a troubled heart, "Unsettled and defiled, I have been distracted by ray- thought s; too keenly have I embraced the wicked delight of words; I have tolled at tasks displeasing to God." He begs earnestly for Guibert to pray assiduously on his behalf. What works of his in particular were displeasing to God he does not say, and we are left to guess. Certainly 3 there are sections of The Iliad of Dares Phrvgjus which are so m ew h at worldly, and Bale lists^ among his writings certain Nugae imatorlae.

"Lovers' Trifles" (which have not come down to us). In March 1190 Archbishop Baldwin passed through France on his way to the Holy Land, and induced Joseph to accompany him on the Crusade. Joseph, in the third of his letters to Guibert, does not appear to have been too happy about the prospect. The letter commences* "I speak to your holiness with bag on my back and staff in my hand, as I set out for Jerusalem with my lord, the Archbishop of Canterbury, summoned by — and would that it were, accompanied by — divine grace." He again asks Guibert for his earnest and assiduous prayers and again reminds him that "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much" (James 5. 16) • The letter concludes* "I beseech you now to accept that which I do not proffer without tears — the last, as I think, farewell of your beloved Joseph." On 19 November 1190 Archbishop Baldwin d ied in th e Holy Land and Joseph returned home. That is the last which is heard of him. All attempts 5 to flesh out his life with further details have ended in failure. Besides the three letters and The Iliad of Dares Phrvgiua all that has £ come down to us of his writings is one short fragment of his other epic, the Ant^ochy^ff. which celebrated the first crusade. All the other works 3 n listed by Bale have disappeared, "if, indeed, they ever existed," T heir somewhat generic and u n sp ecific t i t l e s are i) Pwnflgvricus ad Henri cum (This is perhaps simply the lines in praise of Henry which occur at the end of Bk, V of the Iliad.) ii) De Institutions Cvri i i i ) Nugae Amatoriae iv) Epigrammatq v) Diversi generis Carmina b. His Times Joseph of Exeter was no 3port of rare excellence in a bleak age. When one considers his century, his king, and his patron, the high standard of his literary craftsmanship and his flamboyantly copious store of ancient knowledge should come as no surprise. Henry II, his king, who was born in 1133 and reigned 1154-1189, was a lover of learning himself and the admirer of learning in others. Peter of Blois, one of the many scholars he attracted to his court, writes thus of his royal master to the Archbishop of Palermo! "For as often as he can get breathing time amid his business cares, he occupies himself with private reading, or takes pains in working out some knotty question among his clerks. Your king is a good scholar, but ours is far better; I know the abilities and accomplishments of both. You know that the King of was my pupil for a year; you yourself taught him the elements of verse-making and literaxy composition; from me he had further and deeper lessons, but as soon as I left the kingdom he threw away his books and took to the easy-going ways of the court. But with the King of England there is school every day, constant conversation of the best scholars and discussion of questions.*** Front the names of distinguished w riters and men of learning which studded the lists of his courtiers, we know further that the king's influence was a living force in the land* To employ a tag of which Joseph would have heartily approved* "vulgi turba movetur regie ad exemplar. 11 Archbishop Baldwin, Joseph's patron, was likewise a great stimulator of intellectual endeavour* Joseph invokes his support for both his Iliad and his ftntinnhai g. Gerald of Barry* s Itinerarium Kambriae is based on his journey with Baldwin through Vales to preach the Third Crusade* It was one of Baldwin's dearest wishes to found a teaching college at Lambeth which might have made London the intellectual as well as the commercial centre of the realm* Joseph had many distinguished contemporaries and near-contemporaries in Britain. A generation or so before him had come Geoffrey of Monmouth

(c. 1100 - c* 115?)* In December 1135, or very soon thereafter, Geoffrey completed his Hiatoria Re gum TVrlt^nnl«m. which is not only a great work in

its own right, but is of great significance as the seminal work of the Arthurian tradition* His Vita Marllnl. which was completed at some time between late 1148 and early 1151, is a long and polished poem consisting of 1529 hexameters* Then there was Joseph's fellow Vest-Countryman, John of Salisbury (c. 1120-1180). Like Joseph he appears to have read and remembered all there was to read and remember of literature, pagan and Christian* His great work, the Policraticus (1159), abounds in quotations culled from his wide reading* Valter Map (c. 1140-1209) was a Welshman especially renowned for the excellence of his conversation. To him has been doubtfully ascribed the 5 authorship of the missing prose Lancelot- and some of the most famous of the Goliardic poems* His one extant book, De Nugjs Curialium. is a delight­ ful "collection of stories, historical anecdotes, scraps of folklore, witty remarks and amusing incidents, occasionally bits of satire and denunciation, Q without order or plan, written down between 1181 and 1193*"

Giraldus Cambrensis (c. 114& - c. 1220), or Gerald of Barry, has already been referred to* Like Valter Map a Welshman, he wrote history, travel and autobiography. One sees in his work what one also sees in a different form in Josephs flamboyance, panache, and an invigorating absence of timidity.

Not only England, but the whole of Vestern Europe, was alive with new learning and new artistic endeavour at this time. Charles Haskins, in The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century, has written: "The century begins with the flourishing age of the cathedral schools and closes with the earliest universities already well established at Salerno, Bologna, ParlB, Montpellier, and Oxford. It starts with only the bare outlines of the seven liberal arts and ends in possession of the Roman and canon law, the new A ristotle, the new and , and the Greek and Arabic physicians, thus making possible a new philosophy and a new science* It sees a revival of the Latin classics, of Latin prose, and of Latin verse, both in the ancient style of Hildebert and the new rhymes of the Goliardi, and the formation of the liturgical drama* New activity in historical writing reflects the variety and amplitude of a richer age — biography, memoir, court annals, the vernacular history, and the city chronicle. What happened in the whole of Vestern Europe was also supremely Important to England in the reign of Henry II, for as Bishop Stubbs has 6 written, "there can hardly have been a period in our history In which the Intercourse between England and [the Continent] was freer or more frequent".^

He quotes as his evidence the records for the year 11761 "In 1176 there were at the English Court at Vestminster, on the 12th November, embassies from Constantinople, and from Frederick I, the Eastern and Vestern Caesars, from France, both Rhelms and Flanders, and from Henry the Lion; the same year the Sicilian envoys came to demand Johanna in marriage for their King, and the kings of Navarre and Castile applied to Henry to arbitrate on a great international dispute with Spain. The E nglish scholars seem a l l to have had C ontinental experience. Joseph had studied abroad at Gueldres, John of Salisbury, who was to die as the Bishop of Chartres, had as a young man studied for twelve years at and Chartres under such teachers as Abelard and William of Conches. Valter Map had studied at Paris and had perhaps contributed directly to the general fund of Vestern European literature with his Goliardic poems. Thus when considering the intellectual milieu of Joseph of Exeter it is not unimportant to bear in mind that the age which produced the Iliad of Dares Phrvgius in England, produced in France the Arthurian romances of Chretien de Troyes (c. 1170), in Castile the Poema del Cid (c. 1200), and in Southern Germany, the Nibelungenlied (c. 1203). I am not saying that Joseph’s H i ad was necessarily as great as these other works, but that there was greatness in the European air, which, in this age, even be-Channelled Englishmen breathed. 2. The Iliad of Pares Phrvgjus: When and Why It was Written

The Iliad of Darea PhrrgLus was completed in the late 1130's. One can assign it to this period with a fair amount of confidence, since it is dedicated to Archbishop Baldwin at the time when he was preparing to set out for the Third Crusade. Baldwin took up the cross, preaching "with great effect", on 11th February 1183, and finally le ft England in March 1190.13 Some have regarded the lines in praise of the "Young King", at the end of Book 7, as establishing 1133 as a terminus ad quern, for it was in this year that "Henzy III" died.^ It is my opinion, however, that these lines may with more accuracy be regarded as establishing a terminus a q u o. for they may very well be speaking of the young Henry as a man already dead. For one thing the verbs (excreuerat. rlsit. inuidit) are in the past tense. For another the lines occur at the end of a passionate lament for the death of . I believe that it would have been far more in keeping for Joseph to have brought in the young Henry here if he too had recently died. To have suddenly compared the valiant dead Hector with a living person would have been a great artistic error — too great, I think, for a man of Joseph's undoubted poetic sensitivity. In short, I would place The Iliad of Dares Phrvgjus somewhere between

1183 and 1190.*5 Why did Joseph write The Iliad of PareB Phrvgiua? This question means at least three things* Why did he bother to write at all? Why did he write

about ? Why did he base his work on Dares Fhrygius? 7 8

There are a number of possible answers to the first question* One is that Joseph, like Milton after him, was doubtless spurred by fame "to scorn delights and live laborious days"* In the epilogue, where he takes farewell of his book, his sole concern is that necessary companion of fame, the envy of others* Another possible answer is that with learned men, both patrons of letters, as his King and Archbishop, Joseph may well have regarded the demonstration of literary excellence as the royal road to preferment* In fact the Paris Commentary (of which more later) plainly states that Joseph wrote his epic to win the favour of Archbishop Baldwin.^ Granted all this, why should he write about Troy? The answer must be that Troy was in the air. As Raby tells us, the classical renaissance of the eleventh and twelfth centuries "had directed the imagination of the poets to epic themes drawn from remote antiquity. Hugh Prlmas of Orleans (fl* 1181-6) wrote a long poem telling how Ulysses, in the tenth year of his voyage, went to consult Teiresias as to the chances of his home-coming* In the same century an unknown poet turned th e m a te ria l o f th e f i r s t book of the H i as Latina into Leo nine s. Simon Aurea Capra, later a canon of S. Victor, composed an Iliad in two cantos, and anotherunknown auth o r, possibly Peter of Saintes, wrote a poem in Leonines about the sack of Troy, 18 the escape of , and the foundation of Rome* By perhaps as early as 1155-1160^ Beno&t de Sainte-More had completed his Roman de Troie. 50,000 lines long* Lastly there is the question why Joseph took Dares as his source* According to his own very explicit statement in the exordium, he chose Dares because he wished to tell the truth* Desiring to banish "the deluding fictions of the poets and the unbridled lying of " he chose what he 9 thought was a history written by a man who had actually* lived in Troy at the time of the war. By doing this he could, as he tells us in the epilogue, "unravel the confused abridgements of ancient truth". But did Joseph "tell the truth"? Did he maintain the "scientific" atmosphere which Dares Phrygius so sedulously contrived? Before this question can be answered we must first look at Dares* History, and that other Medieval Troy book with which it has become so closely associated, the Journal of . Dares Phrygius' Da Excidio Troiae Hi a to ri a and Dictys Cretensis* Ephemeris de Historic Belli Troiani are comparatively short Latin prose- works of the 6th and 4th centuries A.D. respectively, which purport to be eye-witness accounts of the . Dictys claims to have followed Idomoneus, the captain of the Cretan contingent, to the war; and Homer speaks in his Iliad of a Dares, who was a priest of at Troy (Iliad. V, 9, 27). Both works are demonstrably based on earlier Greek originals, 20 and both were extraordinarily influential during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Dictys, who favoured the Greek side, was more popular in the Byzantine world, whereas Dares, who favoured the Trojans, founders of so many of the lands of Hesperia, was more popular in the West. Their vogue was doubtless in large measure due to the carefully contrived "scientific" atmosphere of both. Dictys, for example, has some grand touches of euhemerismt he has this to say of the banquet of Peleus and Thetist "At that time many kings had been invited from everywhere to the wedding, which was at 's home. During the banquet they had praised the bride [ThetisJ and offered her toasts saying that she was a Nereid and th a t Chiron was . In th e same way they had c a lle d any o f th e ir 10 number vho excelled in dancing or singing or Bacchus, and had given the names of to many of the women. Accordingly, from that 2 1 time on, this banquet was known as (& banquet of the gods1. ” Dares is even more scrupulously scientific. He ends his History with a flurry of precise-sounding statistics. He tells us, for instance, that "the war against Troy lasted ten years, six months and twelve days", and that "the number of Grades who fell . . . was 386,000; the number of 22 Trojans 676,000. ■ As befits one who prefaces his work with the statement that "the Athenians . . • found Homer insane for describing gods battling 23 with mortals,” he is even harder on the Olympians than Dictys. All divine Interventions are either ignored or explained away. Joseph based the bulk of his work on Dares, using Dictys only fleetingly for his brief and hurried account of the homecoming of the Greeks (on which topic Dares is silent). But despite this dependence on Dares, and despite his protestations that he will "tell the truth", is Joseph "scientific" as Dares is "scientific", is he "factual" as Dares is "factual"? Some touches of the euhemeristic spirit are retained. For example there is no Vooden Horse, no dread structure, "huge as a mountain, built with Minerva's aid", as there is in Vergil (Aen. II, 15-20). Instead 2J. Joseph follows Dares and explains the whole story away by saying that the gate by which the traitors admitted the Greeks to the city was "inscribed with the head of Pegasus" (p. 19A). Venus () does not rescue Paris from Menelaua as she does in Homer's Iliad (III, 330-332). Instead he is rescued by Aeneas, "the demi-god son of Venus" (p. 156)• (Of course in this particular case Joseph is left with the task — which he ignores — of rationalizing his rationalizations Paris was not rescued by Venus but by 11 her son; but how is It in our rational world that there is such a being as the son of a Goddess? Dares* it may be pointed out* disregards the supernatural entirely* confuses the tradition* and a ay at "While Aeneas* using his shield, provided protection* Hector led Alexander out of the fighting and into the city. ")^ One of the key episodes in the story — the judgment of Paris — is 26 rationalized in Joseph* as it is in Dares* by presenting it in the form of a dream* Joseph accepts the device* but he seems to be either consciously or unconsciously dissatisfied with it* and he tries to have it both ways* It is a dream all right* but it is a dream given a mystic setting and a mystic significance* Paris goes hunting early one morning — at the time* in fact* when "Aurora* about to leave her husband's bed* is weeping that the day has dawned" (p. 85)* He wanders away from his comrades and comes to a spot where the prophetic laurel — the tree sacred to Apollo — is soaring up in solitary splendour* The other trees have been "banished"* They "keep their distance" and bow "in obeisance to Apollo" (p* 85)* It is here that Paris falls asleep and dreams his dream* But again it is not altogether a dream* for the Goddesses speak at such length and with such spirit* and their speeches are studded so thickly with detail and allusion that the reader* and perhaps Joseph* forgets that this is supposed to be a dream* On another occasion Joseph commences on a euhem erlstic note w ithout seeming quite to realize what he is doing* "Bach army brandished its divinities*" he says (p. 188) and then goes on to explain how the Greeks had images of Juno and Mars* and the Trojans images of Cybele and Venus* on their armour and their banners* It is quite obvious what conclusion this description should lead toi "Because of this practice* later poets* fools and liars like Homer, said that the Gods actually took part in the battles of mortals* " But Joseph doe3 not make this observation* This in itself is sieim.»xcant, for ve know that he was by no means reticent when it came to making observations and throwing in asides* Furthermore, as we continue reading Joseph's account of this same battle, we note that immediately as Penthesilea and Pyrrhus engage, the actual Gods, and not just their images on armour, become actively Involved in the conflict* "Mars came to Pyrrhus* aid, and Bellona, not slow to support her sex, swooped to help Penthesileat Minerva and Juno favoured neither, for though Pyrrhus was a Greek, Penthesilea was a woman like them" (p. 190), (It might be pointed out that none of this — idle images of the Gods on the armour, the partisanship of Mars and Bellona — is in Dares or Dictys*) Sometimes — but not often — Joseph comes out and directly inveighs against pagan superstition* After describing the elaborate sacrifices of the Trojans, the "thirsty flames piled high with victims", he suddenly rounds on all this costly ritual and says* "The little incense box of the poor is enough for the greatest of the Gods, finds favour with our Thunderer. A pure heart is acceptable sacrifice to him, and he grants all prayers if only they are good" (p. 102). His stro n g est o u tb u rst comes when he b i t t e r l y c a s tig a te s th e apotheosis of . "Cease, o dreary license of pagan Athens, from spawning illic it gods: not , but unfeigned virtue, w ill give these heroic twinB their immortality" (p. 120)* He explains that when the men of Lesbos went to look for Castor and Pollux, and found them neither before the walls of Troy nor in the waves of the sea, they believed that they had been taken up into heaven* "Returning with their fruitless love, 13 they gave cities more gods, altars more incense, and temples further supplies of marble" (p. 120), This is behaviour so absurd that Joseph has to find a far-fetched simile to express his contempti "Even such is the ridiculous trust of the Bretons. In credulous error they are waiting for Arthur — and will go on waiting for ever."27 In two other of his very rare attacks on pagan superstition there are grave internal weaknesses in his argument. On page 59 he sayst "Indeed, out of fear, the father of the Gods, the blind heart of man has made a Pluto for the shadows, gods for the sky, and divinities for the deep." The two hexameters of comment crackle with sconx. But so far as the actual narrative is concerned, the Gods which the fearful conceive, immediately prove to be very real and very efficacious . "Soon the Gods hastened to perform these requests and rejoiced to have been called on. Neptune laid flat the ready waves, and called Zephyrus from his cave to make large the sails, to drive the clouds from the sky and cleanse the day" (p. 59). On page 130 Joseph is bitterly contemptuous of the "wind of , which wretched souls used to call on, and which because of its glorious reputation they wrongly thought was God. (He whom His universe proclaims as its creator does not bellow in a cave.)" Unfortunately this "pernicious stupidity" of fortune-telling has come "seeping down to our own age and has polluted our faith”. Why, stupid old women think they can foretell the arrival and departure of guests by the itching of their ears and the chattering of magpies} After all this bitter denunciation, it rather takes oners breath away when Joseph calmly proceeds with the narrative and shows us the "loquacious cave" of Apollo correctly forecasting the future, first to and then to Calchast u

The examples of rationalization, then, are few and sometimes confused* If we look at the other side of the picture, however, we see that Joseph has flung back the gods and the marvels with a generous hand. They pervade all six books. Before going on to give examples, I must point out that generally where I have allowed the name of a God to stand in my translation it is because I believed Joseph intended the to be taken literally. Where metonymy seems to have been h is in te n tio n I have tra n s la te d w ith th e l i t e r a l referent — e.g., "wine11 in the case of "Bacchus", "sea" in the case of " I will now proceed to give two or three examples of the literal presence of the deities from each of the six books: these will represent only a fraction of the total. None is in Dares1 Histoid a. In Book I the landing

of Hercules1 army is vigorously opposed by and his Trojans. As the bitter fighting proceeds we have the somewhat comic and yet effective scene where Nereus, disturbed by the strange commotion, plunges down in tre p id a tio n to examine th e foundations o f th e sea and then comes away reassured when he sees "that Mother Nature has no part in the uproar" (p. 69)* It the close of the Book, after Troy has been magnificently rebuilt

by , "the glorious Gods come swooping in from all3ides." Cybele, Diana, Bacchus, Ceres, Neptune, Apollo and Minerva arrive and take up residence in Troy and the country round about.

At the beginning of Book II, Joseph boldly apostrophizes pagan Jupiter: "0 Father of both men and Gods, why do you cherish the one and punish the other?" (p. 77). He also rounds on Minerva, whose duty it was supposed to be to watch over Troy, and asks her why she allows the Furies to rage against the city. They are demanding "to share your altars and your incense; 15 they demand that they, the of the night, be admitted to a heaven that is barred to them, and become fellow-citizens of the Gods" (p. 78). In Book III, where we have the event which may be regarded as the causa cauaans of the second destruction of Troy, Venus is strikingly in command* The rape of Helen takes place not in as in the classical tradition, but on Venus' sacred island of Cythera. The Goddess is ever at Paris' shoulder prompting him to his outrageous conduct* "Venus sanctioned his rash plans. In accordance with her promise, she granted him a successful start to his marriage" (p. 112). "But Paris, under cover of darkness, was in his impatience even more ready to disturb the peace of the Gods: Venus was his guide" (p. 113). "Venus, who knows no lim its, rashly spurned everything, and with a brute disregard for propriety rushed to fulfil her outrageous promise*" In Book IV it is the Gods who turn the Greeks aside a3 they set out from Athens, end compel them to order their beginning from Aulis* Although Joseph, following Dares, his source, has nothing about the sacrifice of , he doe3 tell us: "They prayed long and earnestly at the altars of mountain-wandering Diana, and tried to make their peace with her. With abundant gifts of incense they begged her to grant them a safe crossing"

(p. 134-) • Diana, apparently, is appeased, for "immediately" the bow of announces peace in the heavens, and the fleet proceeds, "running before breezes made moderate by the command of the Gods." In Book V, Achilles is plainly described as "the child whom the Thunderer feared to sire" (p. 155). When the Simois carries the battle's carnage out to sea, Joseph presents this strange but effective picture: " and Thetis, pale with fear, gazed in dread at the approaching 16 corpses. Thetis scanned them all, crouching over them: she turned them over in their hundreds and thousands, but among them all she did not find Achilles" (p. 158). On page 159 Apollo, gazing down from heaven, can stand the slaughter no longer. He "grieves for the hundreds of thousands who are falling, for the groans on every side, for all the different shapes of death. His sorrow overwhelms him, and he plunges his swift reins into the sea. He terrifies the battle-lines with the sudden stars." In Joseph, Hector does not, as in Homer's Iliad, lose his life because he slaughtered , but because after killing a warrior named , he picks up the dead Greek’s shield, "It was painted with the image of Greek Juno, and when he proudly took it in his left hand, she bellowed more fiercely than her own son Mars or the thunderbolts of

Jove" (p. 162). Juno choses Achilles as the instrument of her wrath. "Achilles", Joseph tells us, "would not have dared to try conclusions with so great a warrior as Hector, but when he refused, both Juno and Minerva pricked him into action" (p. 162). Eventually Achilles delivers the death-blow. "The Goddesses were behind his hand, and he sent mighty Hector crashing to the ground" (p. 163). In a final burst of praise Joseph sees Hector as the one "to whom Jove, retiring, would gladly have entrusted his thunderbolts, if

only Nature had made him immortal" (p. 16A) • In Book VI when bursts furiously upon the scene, Bellona and Mars gaze admiringly at his prowess. Mars, in fact, picks up a few tips about fig h tin g , which he subsequently p asses on to th e Amazonst "He, a God, had learnt from a mortal" (p. 175). Unfortunately when Troilus fights Achilles, Minerva Intervenes and turns his spear aside. "Troilus saw this,

and rebuked the hostile cunning of the Goddess” (p. 177). 17

When finally the wrath of Achilles breaks out on the battle-field, Jupiter watches the fighting, bemused, like in Homer's Iliad. "Jupiter had seen the plains of Troy roaring out against the fighting, and although his eyes were hampered by the dust, he could nevertheless make out the armour of Vulcan, and, in it, Achilles raging against the eneBay, When he saw all this, he rejoiced that he had thrust Thetis from him as a bride* such a son would have given him more to fear than all the piled-up mountains and missiles of Phlegm" (p. 179). Thetis is so excited by her son's success on the battle-field that she forgets his fate and "herself tallies Achilles' score of slaughtered warriors* (p. 179). When Achilles outstrips his army and draws dangerously close to the walls of Troy Minerva comes and prevails upon him to withdraw (p. 179). And then when Achilles is treacherously murdered by Paris in the temple of Thymbraean Apollo, the God is not amused, and determines on revenge. "Apollo saw all this, and bent his avenging bow. Minerva handed him the arrows. But the Father forbade the deed, and blocked the hurtling arrows with his fire, ordaining peace with his thunderbolt" (p. 133). These Instances should give some idea of the thoroughgoing revival of the Gods in Joseph. I have, as I said, avoided metonymic references to the Gods. I have also omitted as evidence reference to the Gods in direct speech, as it may justly be claimed that Joseph is here merely presenting the superstitious nature of his characters in dramatic form. The return of the supernatural may be seen in another Important sphere — the reason or reasons for the Trojan War. The surface pattern of cause and effect is as follows* 1 . Laomedon refu ses th e h o s p ita lity o f Troy to th e sea-and m onster- weary Argonauts. 18

2. The Greeks, under Hercules, mount a retaliatory raid, kill Laomedon, and carry off the royal princess, Hesione. 3. The Trojans, having failed to win hack Hesione by "normal diplomatic channels”, empower Paris to abduct Helen, the wife of , king of Sparta. A. The Greeks retaliate. After a long war, they destroy Troy and win back Helen.

This is all that appears in Pares. Joseph, however, delves below the surface of events and shows us supernatural forces at play. In the first place, his epic is almost as fate-ridden as the . % This, after all, is the poem's stated thane* "the predestined destruction o f Troy”. The first move in the whole chain of events, as Joseph presents It in his poem, is the sailing of the Argo. And here Fate intervenes. The Argonauts look at the sea and are frightened. "They were on the point of lightly abandoning their courageous enterprise and the waves. But the wind caught hold of the Argo” (p. 58). Joseph calls on the Symplegades to smash the ship and thus put an end to future troubles. "But Fate was opposed to this, and , who controls the deaths of men, fended off the rocks”

(p. 59). Then, on another occasion, , shrieking the fates from the shrine of Apollo, would seem on the point of stopping the Trojans from setting out to abduct Helen. "However, the savage distaff of [the Fates were pictured as three women engaged in the task of spinning] drove on those who delayed, smashed the tenacious anchors lashed the sails with a shrieking blast of wind* (p. 109). 19

The Fates see to It that Helen is left alone in Sparta vhen Paris comes to abduct her. Menelaus is off visiting , and Hermione, the daughter of Helen and Menelaus, "taking with her Castor and Pollux as guides" has gone to Argos "to visit her aunt, Clytemnestra". "See with what certainty the Fates contrive the crises in menTs lives!" exclaims Joseph (p. 110). The Fates intervene at yet another critical point in the story. Achilles, smitten by his love for the Trojan princess, , forcefully urges the army to abandon the war. The rank and file, sick for peace, enthusiastically approve his advice. "Each man made ready his ship for sailing back home the very next day". But this is not what the Fates want and they block this move by speeding "on their way the harvest-bearing ships which had sent to the Greeks." These ships "had hardly reached the harbour, when the ranks suffered a change of heart. They broke out violently into a new chant and called for the return of their swords" (p. 169). in her last lament blames her ^destructive Fates" for all the sufferings of Priam and the Trojans (p. 198). But Priam is also responsible. He knows the Fates — for has plainly revealed them to him «•* and yet he dares to ignore them. "He helped the Fates when he rejected what they had to say" (p. 106) • Joseph, however, does not blame only the Fates for Troy’s downfall. He is a romantic poet with a teeming mind, and one cannot expect Mm to be unswervingly consistent. At different points in his poem he advances all sorts of other reasons for the destruction. At one stage he suggests it was clearly because of the propensity of the Trojans,particularly Priam,

for building sky-scrapers. Priam* s palace, in short, earned the thunderbolts 20

of Jove, because it "invaded heaven and presumed upon a sphere not its own" (p. 74). Another supernatural cause for the destruction is the perjury of Laomedon, who refused to give Apollo and Neptune the rewards he had promised them for building the walls of Troy* Joseph apostrophizes "whatever gods of the waves there are" to unleash their waters and drown both Trojans and Greeks* "If you judge that both should die, if you award punishment to fit the offence, the Trojans will die for perjury, the Greeks for blazing the trails to crima" (p, 69)* S till another reason for the destruction, as Joseph sees it, was the Trojans' flouting of the Laws of Nature in refusing the hospitality of their shores to the travel-weary Argonauts* In one particular outburst of enthusiasm Joseph sees this as the sole cause of Troy's downfall* "0 great and mighty Troy, o Fergamum, no angry Jove w ill compel your surrender* The Gods and the grim whips of the Furies w ill not be unjust to you* The native race is itself forging its own fateful destiny, the Trojans are earning from a kindly heaven exile, swords and flames" (p. 60) * This cause, I suppose, should also be labelled "supernatural"* Joseph, however, does advance one scientific reason for the Trojan War, and it is of a psycho-physiological nature — Helen's liver tickled too voluptuously* "Thus this one organ of Helen ruined the whole of her, brought about the clash of kingdoms, and roused the whole world to disaster" (pp. 129-130) * We must now face the overwhelming question that arises from all this* Joseph was a Christian author, a monk writing in the "Age of Faith". He had before him the precedent established by much-admired Lucan^ of purging the Gods from the epic* He based his work on a "secularized" text* Why 21 then does he reinstate on such a massive scale the Gods, the Fates, and the Furies — In Tact, all the delusions of the pagans? We can be very subtle and say he was satirizing the convention of the 3 0 lying Athenian poets. Some argument may be put up for this In the case of the cattish flyting of the Goddesses In Book XI, but otherwise it will simply not stand. The Gods and the supernatural forces are so much part of the epic, that if they are satirical, then the whole of the epic is satirical. And this is an interpretation too absurd to be contemplated. An answer nearer to the truth is, X think, that Joseph was keen to display his learning (see infra, p. 2A), and to deny the pagan gods would have meant immuring all his splendid knowledge of mythology behind a wall of puritanical orthodoxy, only allowing a few faint echoes to escape. And what joy would there have been for Joseph in that? This brings one to another, and perhaps even more valid, answers Joseph was an enthusiast. All his virtues and his weakness ace the result of enthusiasm. Is it not possible that when writing his Iliad he imagi­ natively reentered the classical world with such gusto, that despite his background and his stated resolve, he willy-nilly accepted that world's religious beliefs and made only a feeble, doomed, and half-hearted attempt to deny them?

Xn conclusion, X would like to look at the other major aspect of

"telling the truth", of departing from the unbridled lying of Athens. This is the matter of redressing the balance of partisanship in favour of the Trojans. Here Joseph was more demonstrably successful in accomplishing what he set out to do. Hector, for example, is upgraded at the expense of 22

Achilles, Achilles, as we have already seen, "would not have dared to try conclusions with so great a warrior as Hector, hut when he refused both Juno and Minerva pricked him into action" (p. 162) » And it is with the help of these Goddesses that he sends mighty Hector crashing to the ground. But more striking than this upgrading of Hector, is the elevation of a Trojan — Troilus — to the position of the greatest champion of the war. In Hamer's Iliad he is merely a name, one of the sons whose death Priam mourns (xxiv, 257); whereas in Bares he becomes a redoubtable warrior. Joseph, however, far outstripping the zeal of Dares, makes him "second to none in venturing upon brave deeds" (p. 123), and greater than the greatest Greek of the past — or the future. ", who came after him, and Tydeus who came before, both had hands as deadly as hist but Troilus was mightier than either and outclassed them both" (p. 172) • He is, and this is the supreme praise, even "greater than Hector". His standards of sportsmanship are positively British, for although his hand "rages savagely", it never strikes below the groin (p. 175). In his last fight Minerva intervenes on the side of Achilles, and thus dies Troilus, "the only one whom the Greeks thought worthy of their praises" (pp. 177-178).

3. The Literary Quality of The Iliad of Dares Phrvgius

What critical notice has been taken of Joseph of Exeter has generally

been favourable, sometimes very favourable. Perhaps the most enthusiastic comment has come from Max Manitius, the great authority in our time on medieval Latin Literature, who saysr "Die Behandlung des Josephyg

gehflrt zu den bedeutendsten Lelstungen auf dem Gebiete des hiatorischen E p o s ." 3' 23

One of Its greatest strengths is, I think, the strong basic unity of its plot. Unlike so many other medieval works it is not diffuse, but adheres with an amazing degree of fidelity to the stated theme — "the tears of the Trojan women, the predestined destruction of Troy, the two mighty wars of its princes, the city twice brought to ashes" (p. 55) • The Trojan War, in Bhort, provides th e epic w ith i t s u n ity . (One should in passing ovserve that regarded the war as "a whole, with a definite beginning and end". 32 By implication, a poem recounting its course would not incur the strictures of disunity he levels at other historical epics.) In Joseph's Iliad of Dares Phrvgius a probable and necessary sequence of events is narrated! 1. The Argo sets out to recover the , and Laomedon, the king of Troy, refuses hospitality to the weary Argonauts. 2. Hercules, one of the Argonauts, later mounts an attack on Troy to punish Laomedon. 3. Troy i s destroyed, Laomedon i s executed, and h is daughter Hesione is awarded to Telamon, the king of Sal amis, who has distinguished himself in the fighting. A. Priam, Hesione* s brother, becomes king of Troy and begs for the return of his sister, but Telamon haughtily refuses. 5. Priam permits his son Paris to go and abduct Helen, the wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta. Priam's motives appear to be a mixture of a desire for revenge and a belief that he can use Helen as a counter in his demand fo r th e rele ase o f Hesione. 6. The Greeks under , the brother of Menelaus, mount a vast expedition to regain Helen from the Trojans. 2U

7. War commences, and despite the Tact that both sides grow weary of the fighting, which drags on for ten years, the Pates obstruct all efforts "towards a negotiated settlement". 8. Certain Trojan conspirators make a deal with the Greeks, and betray their city to them. Priam is killed, and the city is destroyed by "steel and flame". An unrepentant Helen returns to Mycenae. Joseph, with a fine judgment remarkable for his age, resists the temptation to wander off on narrative side-tracks, no matter how alluring they would appear. Thus he tells us only enough of the Argo1 s outward voyage to make us appreciate the enormity of Laomedon1 s refusal of

hospitality to the Argonauts. He disposes of *s heroic winning of the Golden Fleece in two allusive sentences! "Why should I speak of the hard terms placed on Jason at Aeetes* command — of the seeds that he sowed — of the earth-born enemy -- of the bulls of — of the watch kept by the monstrous serpent? Fire and sword gave way to virtue, and Jason stole the fleece which he had won by facing the utmost in danger" (p. 62). Nothing is told of , and the homeward voyage is only briefly alluded to. One here must observe that Joseph's sense of artistic restraint and his desire to parade his immense fund of knowledge are often at war with one another. His distress at having to hide his learning is at times touchingly evident. When, for example, he reduces his account of the homecoming of the Argonauts to two or three gentences, he voices his fear that men will think he is "not sure of his facts". But if (he complains) he should "choose to tell the story copiously, the fastidious ear would refuse to grant its welcome approval to all the details" (p. 63). 25

When he resists the lure to te ll us how and Ulysses vent in search of Achilles and found him in the court of Lycomedeg, he writes* "I know, and it Is an easy matter to narrate [this expedition] . • • but Bel Iona, whom X must sing in this my poem of war, was once again tormenting those who remained behind11 (p. 134). In view of this laudable self-control, oftdn painfully exercised, it is a double pity that right at the end of his poem Joseph spoils the unity and departs from his stated theme, by telling of the events which followed the destruction of Troy. In the brief space of eighty-nine lines he makes a half-hearted attempt to tell us of 1. the sacrifice of Polyxena; 2. 's election as king of Troy; 3. Aeneas1 vain attempt to mount an expedition to unseat Antenor; A. the drowning of Locrian Ajax; 5. the rebellion of the Greek wives, and the murder of Agamemnon; 6. the adventures, homecoming, and death of Ulysses; 7. Helen1a return to Itycenae. This brief error of judgment leaves an unpleasant after-taste of 33 diffuseness and untidiness. It is, however, a relatively minor fault, affecting only part of the book. What is a greater pity is that the whole of the first two books are flawed by an excessive rhetoric, and thus fall short of the very high standard maintained by the epic as a whole. That these weaker books come first, that the first book is more flawed than the second, is perhaps one of the main reasons why The Iliad of Dares Phrvgiua has lapsed into an obscurity quite unfair to its general excellence. 26

The chief fault of the first book Is that there Is too much apostrophe and too much comment. Joseph of Exeter is alvayB obtruding into, and dominating, the narrative. Would that Joseph had read great Aristotle on this pointt "The poet should say very little in propria persona, as he is no imitator when doing that. The other poets are perpetually coming forward in person, and say but little , and that only here and there, as imitators. An analysis and summary of the first hundred lines is depressingly instructive.

Lines (line references are to RLddehougjb's edition) 1-5 The theme (stated twice). 6-14 Truth is apostrophized. The poets of the past have outraged her, but Joseph will serve her. 15-23 Only the old is praised — old things, old people. Nevertheless young Joseph is going to dare to write a new epic. His mind is mature even if his face is unwrinkled. And, in any case, youth is better than age. 24-31^- Joseph w ill not follow the old poets, Homer and Vergil — but Dares Phrygius, who was there and who knows the truth. If he uses this source, he will not need to pray to the Gods for aid. Joseph's mind has banished the deluding fictions of the poetss the unbridled lying of Athens and its falsehoods. Hence he will not give offence to 31^-32g "You, of Father" i.e ., Baldwin, who is doing a good job as Arch­ bishop of Canterbury. Even Rome itself is looking his way! Baldwin is a worthy successor to Thomas& Becket. The same cannot be said of Thomas' successor and Baldwin's predecessor, Richard. 27

33-41 There follows a long, heated, and obscure passage on dangerous pride and the buying of offices, which is presumably directed against the memory of Archbishop Richard.

42-46 "How very different are you, Baldwin. Thomas a Becket would even have gladly shared office with you." 47-42 "So much f o r th a t. Do you now, o mighty one, grant your poet to tell the fall of Troy."

49-51 "Soon you will be going off to the Crusades. I shall sing of this worthier exploit also. Ve shall both become famous."

52-62 Man invents the ship. It will be used for piracy. "Is there no end to man's avarice?"

63-69 At last something relevant I Jason was the first to use a ship: he used it to seize the "ram of Phrixus" — i.e ., the Golden Fleece. The motives of the Argonauts are discussed. 70-82 The Argo was simply constructed. It was not elaborately decorated.

83-85 The Argonauts have second thoughts as they "stare doubtfully at the sea", and "think longingly of their fatherland".

86—87 They are "on the point of lightly abandoning their courageous enterprise" when the wind sweeps them off. 88-90£ The Fates, it would appear, want to add death by drowning to death from poison and hard steel. "Yes, you are bored, and you are seek­ ing new and thrilling means of death."

90£-94 Joseph calls on the Symplegades to crush the Argo, and so put an end to this nonsense. But the Fates do not allow this to happen. 95-100 The Gods are stronger than Jo sep h 's p ray ers. The Gods o f the sea and the wind are particularly well-disposed to the Argonauts, for 28

it is these first sailors' fear that has summoned them into existence* Now, if ships had not been invented . * • etc* etc* Thus does the rhetoric, wildly ingenious to its manipulator's harm, go thundering on. Sedgwick gives the results of his investigation of the first 307 lines in one damning sentence! "An analysis of the above gives us 59 lines of satire, 44- of description, 120 of rhetoric, 51 of preface — and 19 of narrative I Even the most convinced of historical apologists must find tedious this turgid spate of words almost devoid of relevant matter* From line 298 and the beginning of Hercules* campaign against Laomedon, things rapidly improve: narrative asserts itself strongly over comment* To put it in Aristotelian terms, the poet in propria persona fades and the "imitator" takes his place. (But perhaps by now the prospective reader of Joseph has yawned more than once, and has laid his otherwise excellent epic asid e .) Book II is spoiled by the excessive length of the Goddesses' speeches as they compete before Paris for the prize of beauty* These speeches are dramatically convincing and are graced occasionally with wit: but they go on far, far too long* Juno delivers herself of 79 hexameters* Minerva, who begins by claiming that she, alas, is no orator, and by pouring scorn on Juno for "babbling too much", does not sweep off, "with an expression veil suited to her words", until 134 hexameters have elapsed. (She has said almost twice as much as Juno whose loquacity she mocked. I do not know if Joseph is being intentionally funny.) Venus who complains that the case "was to have been decided solely on the evidence of beauty, the eloquence of loveliness" proceeds to deliver the longest speech of all — 143 hexameters* 29

(However, her eyes are "flashing allurement" the while, and she concludes with a quick strip-tease: "So saying, she flung aside her robes* Her aims were bare, her breasts uncovered, she blazed forth triumphantly. Venus was victorious" (p. 101).) Even in the remaining four books there are occasional excesses, places where Joseph has allowed the adornments to obscure the basic lines of his architecture* The conclusion is a disastrous case in point. "Live my book and flourish", he says, "with none to destroy you. But if they hurt you remember that nothing is too high for envy." From there he wanders off to comment on envy: "Envy spurs you to the heights"; and "you feed it while you live and kill it when you die". The last observation is of such dubious relevance that its place as the last line of his impressive epic is much to be regretted* Furthermore, on at least two other occasions, Joseph is so carried away by the excitement of his own rhetoric that he makes statements which are palpably false. When he is condemning the treachery of the Trojan conspirators he says: "0 grim counsel of evil men, o crimes never before experienced in a l l th e h isto ry o f the world! The land o f A sia was flourishing, Troy was flourishing with all its soldiers, mighty in its king, safe in its defenders, and fearing neither the Gods nor the Fates. The victory of the Greeks would have soon gone up in smoke and been proved a liar" (p. 195). In thundering hexameters this makes a fine and exciting noise, but it is all nonsense: as Joseph has so convincingly shown us, with Fenthesilea dead and her Amaxons discountenanced, the last hope of Troy is gone and the city faces certain defeat* 30

Then when th e death o f P a ris i s announced to Helen, Joseph p u lls ou t all the stops and gives a vividly sentimental picture of an innocent wife shattered by her husband's death: Helen swoons, and when she recovers she actively contemplates suicide and has to be dissuaded by the Trojan women and Priam (p. 187). This rings completely false, as till now Helen has been presented almost solely as a sex-craaed and mercenary little hussy. But let us turn again now to the credit side of the ledger* Here one must enter Joseph of Exeter's authority, his sheer competence* This is seen first of all in the technical brilliance of his verse* Milton, doubting the genuineness of the polished verses which Geoffrey of Monmouth introduced in to Book I o f h is Hi a to r i a Re gum B-r-tt.wnrflflw. commented* "The L atin Verses are much better, then for the Age of Geoffrey an-Arthur, unless perhaps Joseph of R*;ftta-pr the only smooth Poet of those times, befriended him.'136 37 Varton called Joseph a "miracle of this age in classical composition"; and Baby writes of him as follows: "No one had so fully assimilated the Latin of the Silver Age; for with Joseph there was no mere imitation or wholesale borrowing of phrases* He was a master of his language and of his material. In his detailed study already referred to, Sedgwick comes to the conclusion: "On the whole his versification is little , if any, inferior to the average of the Silver Age* When we consider the futility of the usual mediaeval handbooks of metre, we are lost in admiration of a poet whose ear was so true that it enabled him to reproduce exactly niceties of the hexameter only revealed by nineteenth century scholarship. Finally, Max Manitius speaks of "die gllnzendste poetische Rhetoric . . . die wir ghmftauat am daa Mittal alter faabaa* 31

In addition to his mastery of classical verse, Joseph displays an incredible knowledge of antiquity — its literature, its geography, its mythology. He would appear to have mastered the whole corpus of Latin poetry accessible in his day, and his Iliad gives evidence of his acquaintance with at least the following authors* , Claudian, Lucan, Vergil, Juvenal, Persius, , Martial, Seneca, , Caesar, Publilius Syrus.^ Even a cursory glance at the glossary at the end of this translation w ill reveal Joseph's competent grasp of literally hundreds of names from classical geography and classical mythology. Mistakes for which he is ostensibly responsible are incredibly few (Polidarlus for can perhaps be regarded as a scribal error). On p. 63 he gives Peloponnesus as the name of a town, and on p. 167 he apparently misinterprets the vocative, Thesidao. in Dares, and so gives us a third son of , Thesides, as a member of the delegation to Telephus. (Thesides is commonly the name employed for Hippolytua, and so I have tactfully translated it thus, though nowhere else do we read that Hippolytus fought at Troy.) It is not only on the subject of classical antiquity that Joseph is well-informed. Even the physiology of sex — the way of a certain type of maid with a certain type of man — is no closed book to Exeter* s scholar*

"... pressing both breasts against him, she stroked him and kissed him and aroused him to a frenzy of hidden lust. Then when Venus expired, the conspiring purple garments bore witness to the secret dew" (p. 115). Proh scelus) indeed.

The same abundance that characterizes his knowledge, characterizes also his art. When finally he gets to the green fields of his narrative 32 he proceeds with such gusto and panache that one soon shakes off the lethargy that the dreary, fantastic wastes of rhetoric have imposed. I have tried to sum up four aspects of this gusto under the headings — vigorous narrative, fine descriptions, Inventiveness, and fine conceits. Vigorous Narrative A story of battles and violence could easily become boring and repetitive. Joseph avoids this danger. He dispenses copious variety of both pace and event. The beginning of Book V, which te lls of Agamemnon1 s first onslaught against Troy, will exemplify this. The book opens at a slow and solemn pace. This acts both as a contrast to the hectic events that have gone before, and also as a quiet prelude to the momentous events of the day to come. Much of the opening hundred lines or so is given to direct speech. first persuades the Greeks not to attack under the cover of darkness; and in the last hour of the night Agamemnon addresses the troops, and perhaps somewhat laboriously demonstrates to them that each man has a personal stake in the fighting. The day dawns clear, the sea is calm — Apollo and Neptune are for the Greeks I The speeches end, and the narrative suddenly shifts to high speed. "The Greeks cheered, and the whole strait re-echoed with their spirited roar" (p. 14-7). Astur, the keeper of the Palladium, high up in the citadel of Troy, sees the ships coming. Swiftly he tears throughout the city to arouse his fellov-citizens from their slumbers. The response is immediate — and noisy. "The credulous citizenry raised high their querulous yelps. The children joined in, outweeping their mothers, rivalling their groans, and lending a high pitch to the tumult" (p. 147). Hector momentarily panics, but then his fiery courage reasserts itself. "He seized arms immediately! 33 without waiting for the rest he burst open the gate alone, and alone hurtled out.* The other warriors follow him at a distance — but in such numbers there is a traffic-jam at all six gates. The soldiers are keen and eager for the battle, but not so eager as the captains, Hector, Troilus, and (strangely enough) Paris. Attention now shifts to , the first of the Greeks ashore. He is like a meteor in the fight. Fhorbas, the Trojan, is violently dis­ patched. "Savage Protesilaus knocked aside his weapon with his hacked-off log; and having burst open his chain-mesh and broken his helmet, he sliced his breast in two and thrust his spear deep into his entrails* (p. 14.9) • But then Protesilaus encounters Hector, and that is the end of Protesilaus. Hector brings his sword down through his ornamented helmet and chops him in half down to his breast. A quiet scene follows as we are reminded of Protesilaus1 failure to carry out the gentle promises he made to his wife . We are shown the pathetic irony of her love as she kisses the wax image she had made of her husband to console her during his absence. Then there is a swift return to the sudden modern-seeming brutality ofi "But Protesilaus was dead, and was obstructing the yoked horses where he lay. The chariots, not seeing him, gouged him apart with their wheels* (pp. 150-151). Other vigorous pictures of battle abound. There is, for example, the encounter of Menelaus and Paris. Paris is urging on the Trojan ranks when Menelaus sees him. ^Do you recognise me, your former host?* shouts Menelaus. "I have come to claim return of hospitality. Take me along to Troy and to Helen.* Paris takes a quick aim with his bow and arrow, and grazes Menelaus1 forehead. "All right", he says, "come along like that!" Menelaus, under­ standably, bursts into violent anger and "roars louder than Hyrcanian tigers, or Scythian sows, or African lions roar when bewailing their plundered young* (p. 156). 34

Paris tears off with his wing-footed horses* But the enraged Menelaus outpaces them and catches hold of their manes. "I want to go to Troy with you, Paris, but the city Is so near we hardly need these horses* ■ So saying he unyokes them, and drives thou off* Paris is left standing in his stalled chariot* He "turns pale" (one of Joseph1 s rare understatements) • But Hector and Aeneas come galloping up. Aeneas spirits Paris back to Troy and his bedroom1s "soft encounters", while Hector beats off the angry Greeks* Then there is the picture of the wounded Sarpedon, who is forced to withdraw from the battle. "He looked back at the enemy, gazing longingly at all their retreating tracks* He blazed to return to the fight, and angry at not being able to, he lashed out at his comrades who were holding him back" (p. 167). (Fortunately for these long-suffering comrades, he soon

swoons from the blood he has lost.) Infectious descriptions of enthusiasm lend fire to the narrative throughout* This is how one day1a fig h tin g begins: "The dawn of th e follow ing day had hardly scattered the shadows when on all sides warriors leapt up for the fight, and seized the spears which were leaning against their armed beds* Some, however, had not taken off the dripping ivory of their swords or their overshadowing helmets. Their necks reclining on their shields, they had valiantly slept through the night in their armour" (p. 171). Before the bugles can blow on either side, "prompt virtue anticipates their pealing summons" and both armies rush at each other* This remind* one of the previous occasion when the Trojans "accept a challenge that the Greeks have not even had time to make" (p. 152) • This gusto attaches even to Joseph1 s description of wounds. Like Homer, he sometimes tells us not only where the death-dealing weapon entered 35 but also where it came out* Here is how the "nimble spear of Menalcas" puts paid to Eurypylusi "It entered his head from the right and came out through his le ft socket, bearing the gouged-out eye on the tip* (p. 174.) • When Patroclus* head is lopped off by Hector, Joseph not only tells us that it went on "whispering thinly"; he also tells us who picked it up after it had gone bouncing far down the ranks (p. 153) • Fine Descriptions Often Joseph's descriptions are characterized by an acute eye for significant detail, as in this description of the shrine which Paris and his men have le ft in ruin after the rape of Helens "Here they saw broken and jangling , here they saw trampled-upon goblets and spilt wine, guttering tapers and torches, which were being wept for in the shattered glass"

(p. 1U ) . Colour, shape, movement and sweet odour are blended together as Joseph d escrib es th e ro y al ship o f P aris! "The woodwork blazed w ith th e magnificent figures that had been painted on it* The prow was adorned with lordly purple and the stem with golds the yard-arm was made of ivory. The cypress-mast which held the sails sprinkled its perfume into the thwarts* The winds vied with one another to spread the sails which billowed out into the shape of purple breasts! an image of Venus drew the gently—wafting Zephyrs to th e ship* (p* 109). The luxury and languor of this picture may be contrasted with the rough and harsh description of the mouth of the ! "The rebellious Phasis audaciously checked the sea with a whirlpool, and thrusting against it, lambasted it as it rushed onto the fields! the river took pity on the lands that were to be destroyed. The sea in its turn raged and furiously befouled 36 the fresh water, belching Its bile Into the dear depths of the river. It contemptuously threw off the latter1 s grasp. Even the harbour narrows, sheltered from the South Wind and with a calm sky above it, incessantly seethed with storms* the broad sea was restive in these cramped quarters. The sand built up to destroy the ships; the bottom was hidden, and heaped the shallows in masses, giving a false appearance of depth • . • " (p. 61). Vergil in Book VI of the Aeneid gives a description of Deiphobe, the priestess of Apollo, violently in the power of the God she served. Joseph was not to be outdone, as we see from this description of Cassandra in her frenzyx "The revenge of the God she had forced into her glistened on her prophetic face, and a frenzied power battered her gentle limbs. Her neck spun round, her hair spilled over her shoulders, her eyes scattered fire. Her face started to changes now it was bluer than glass, now redder than fire, now whiter than box-wood. Thus she advanced into the midst of those many thousands of nobles, raging with her mouth, and planting her uncertain steps like a drunken woman11 (p. 116) • These have been lengthy passages of description. The poem is also studded with short evocative phrases and sentences. "He winkled out the soul that had lurked behind so many defenders" (p. 72) , is Hercules killing heavily-arm oured Laomedon. "A neighbouring fie ld pumped i t s rich n ess in to

the bursting corn-ears" (p. 75) tells of the fertility of the slopes of Ida. The splendour of the dawn of the first day of the Trojan War is fixed by: "The dawn was bright with that pure radiance you see when the day is cloudless and the noon shadows shorten and gather themselves into cones" (p. 147). The

overcast sky of the dawn after Memnon1b death is described thus* "The whole sky lamented him — the pale light, the torn clouds, the mutilated loveliness 37 of the heavens" (p. 180). The passing of time is finely told when Joseph writes: "The third summer had hardly broken the soil with its flowers. .

(p. 159). Inventiveness Joseph1s gusto and panache are also to be seen in the audacity of his inventiveness. Naturally enough, he makes much of the first meeting of Helen and Paris, which takes place on Venus1 holy island, Cythera. "When th e presence o f Helen was made known to P a ris he deserted th e f l e e t. Confident of his beauty, and fully aware of the handsomeness of his face, he followed Helen here and there, wherever she went, tirelessly dogging her steps. He flung her eager glances, and fed the mutual flame. In a short time he had enthralled her and won her love" (p. 111). Forcefully told, but so far not very original. However, Joseph goes on to say* "He fixed on Helen his marvelling gaze, and, forgetting that he was walking, stood rooted to the spot. Then the next moment, fearing that he would be thought her captive, he turned his quick gaze on other things as if he marvelled at all he looked at. Vith more control she half-smiled and gave him a sidelong glance: she would like to have displayed her entire face and naked breast, but her modesty reproved her and held in check this full-blown excess" (p. Ill)• This picture of Paris, far less self-possessed than Helen, pathetically trying to cover up his infatuation, certainly adds a dash of novelty to an old story.1 1 so inventive is the touch where Helen, having gazed on Trojan gold, and having made up her mind to run off with

Paris if only he will ask her, is frustrated by the fact that she is always surrounded by so many companions that Paris has no opportunity of putting the question. 38

There are also briefer touches of inventiveness, as when Joseph, bearing in mind perhaps the many children with which Priam is credited, explains that Hecuba1 s beauty "had not been exhausted by her frequent confinements, and did not know the wrinkles and the withering that generally go with fecundity" (p. 124.)• None of this is in Joseph's

JO original, which merely says* "Hecuba was beautiful, her figure large. * I have le ft to the end of this sub-section the more extreme examples of .his lively inventiveness — touches that seem either woefully strained or delightfully audacious according to the character of the reader, or h is mood a t the p a r tic u la r moment. I have called them

Fine Conceits These are scattered throughout the epic, and 1 shall draw attention to a selection of them. First is the notion, already mentioned, of the Gods of the sea and wind, rushing off to perform the Argonauts' bidding, tic k le d pink to have someone praying to them (p. 59) • Then th e re i s lim ping , hating every step he takes, and thus not building a sky-scraper like the rest of the Trojan nobles, but being content to gaze on the bustling grandeur of Troy by way of mirrors (p. 74) • In Book II we have the picture of the unhappy Hesione at her wedding- feast. Somewhat like the modern traveller abroad who has the douleur d' estomac and is too sick to be interested, "she does not marvel at the unfamiliar customs" (p. 82). While birds are singing to the other guests "it seems to her feverish Imagination that night-wandering owls are hooting, that the bird of ill-omen is crouching on the roof" (p. 83). As the others drink copiously, "she fills a cup to overflowing with her silent grief." 39

When Paris has made up his mind to seize Helen as soon as night falls, it seems to him that daylight is lasting forever* "He believed that the jealous sun held back the night in envy of his luck" (p. 112) • This is how Aeneas dispatches a Greek who has killed a Trojan and is showing clean pair of victorious heels" lest he now be "at the receiving end of death"! "Aeneas pierced the fugitive with his gaze and his skilful arrow, which murmured 'Die I* into his ear as it transfixed it" (p. 157). At one furious stage in the fighting the plain gets so dusty, that a pall of murk blots out the sun. "Greeks and Trojans could not tell each other apart until the spears, settling the dust • • • with showers of blood, brought back the clear sky" (p. 173). Running out of new ways of describing Troilus1 bloody combats, Joseph adopts the metaphor of a debate or disputation: "Troilus, with his naked sword, took up the dispute with Umbrasides. Savagely he demonstrated death to the bewildered warrior in that part of him which contained his capacity for debate. Vain were Umbrasides' struggles to extricate himselft the necessity of death could not be refuted" (p. 175). When Achilles reaches a high-point in his slaughtering, Thetis lifts high her waves so that they can "marvel at her son's sweet encounters"

Tp. 179). Lastly, violent Pyrrhus sets fire to Troy because "he wants to throw some light on his deeds" (p. 195). Humour Ve have already observed the awkwardness of Paris at the lovers' first encounters, and Helen's contrasting self-possession. Surely this indicates /O a sense of humour on Joseph's part , and surely this sense is what we see A0 at work again In this description of the actual abduction: "And so Paris raped — or rather was raped by — Helen, who held out her hands and shrieked — with a look of joy upon her face" (p. 113). Ve see it also in the encounter between loud-mouthed Menalcas and the Amazon queen, Penthesllea. Menalcas — "a lion in his mouth, but a rabbit in his heart" — had been pouring copious scorn on the Trojans for having women fight for them. After his lengthy, bombastic speech, comes this deadly sentence* "So he spoke, and the maiden, slow to follow the loquacity of her sex, but swift to battle, replied with only a javelin" (p. 190) • Menalcas dies a wretched death* Penthesllea's spear unseats him and spikes him to the ground. His horse tries to run away, but his master's feet are caught in the stirrups. A gruesome tug-of-var develops. In the process the "unlucky body is torn to pieces". To Joseph this may have appeared funny: one just does not know. Another touch of humour in this passage is perhaps to be seen in the following* Menalcas misjudged Penthesllea because the women of the genial are soft and timid creatures. "He did not know that both men and women grow violent because of the cold to which they are born, and that the Sarmatian climate breeds anger in the hearts of its children" (p. 189). Perhaps this is a bitterly humourous observation bred from the dank, stony discomforts of life in monastic England. Humour — wit — is also to be observed, imbedded in the lengthy flytinj of the Goddesses. Using one of his rare puns, he has Juno say this of Minerva* "She is, as they say, the creature of Mars, and therefore she mars men" (p. 87). Minerva scores o ff both Juno and Venus as follows* "The child she gave birth to is Vulcan, mighty Vulcan, and this I do not begrudge her* I am not envious that he goes about his martial deeds on tip-toe, or a that he is a skilful weaver of chain-net. So she spoke, fixing Venus with a side-long glance" (p. 92). (Venus was, of course, the wife of Vulcan, to whom she was notoriously unfaithful. Once by an elaborate strategem he caught Venus and Mars in flagrante delicto on his conjugal couch, and suspended them for the ridicule of the Gods in his net of fine gold.) As well as being sardonic, and mordant, and sometimes brutal, Joseph’s humour is often class-conscious.1^ There is for example that wonderful scene where enthusiasm for Hercules' war seizes the plebs — shopkeepers and mechanicals in Joseph's mind, one imagines — and they make ludicrous attempts to imitate the behaviour of their warrior aris­ tocracy: "But the plebs also riotously seized arms, and brandishing unfamiliar swords they learned to belch out rage in copious gushes. Their threats were many, but their deeds would be scanty. One packed horses into their bridles: he would not stay mounted for long. Another, seized a helmet and strutted about, seeming impatient to slaughter his prisoners. Some gazed open-mouthed because the calves of their legs (clapped in armour) had gone stiff. Others, overcome by the weight of their shields, pitched forwards onto them. Same challenged the barbarian kingdoms — their words certainly were valiant. They were brave this side of the battle, safe behind the sea which lay between'* (p. 67). Then there is the wedding feast of Hesione where, while the nobles "courteously indulge in drinking", the plebs get gloriously tight. The "bibulous retainers bellowed: 'Ho there, Hymenf Splashing the liquor into golden cups, they accepted invitations from themselves. These befuddled plebs, who would rival the English for thirst, and were pastmasters 42 of the long swallow, rejoiced that they had exchanged their common cups and watered wine for the royal drink of kings. Delight, which comes rarely to men, made up for its tardiness. It did not lie back and yawn, until with the mind vanquished, the tongue fell silent, the lights grew double, and the footsteps tottered" (p. 80). One final aspect of Joseph1 s panache is the liberal hand with which he has doled out his sententiae. Latin, which lends the glamour of epi­ grammatic wit to commonplaces, is pre-eminently the language for sententiae. and a good many of Joseph1 s observations lose much of their force when translated into wordy English. Here, however, are a few which retain some p o in t. "Crime grows worse when vengeance is slow" (p. 69). "Fortune must be followed while raw grief pants life into some deed of renown. Nothing magnificent is achieved when you think too long about it: anger slow to act is swamped by fear" (p. 107) • "Who or where or when are unimportant: what matters is what is done and how it is done: deeds will remain, but the person who does them will pass away" (p. 166). "Just as there is no death for the Gods, so is it rare for kings" (p. 176). (He means that there is always someone to protect a king in battle.) Finally, a pleasant anachronism: "There is no need for a second Cicero when riches are making their plea" (p. 112).

The Influence of Jo sep h ^ I lia d

It is notorious that the middle ages went for its information on the

Trojan War not to Homer or Vergil but to Dares and Dictys. Thus, for example, in Sir Gawaln »nd the Green Knight (c. 1377), Aeneas is not the heroic figure of the Aeaeid but the conspirator of Dares — **j>e tulk j?a»t -|>e trammes of tresounj>er wrojt." The belief that Dares and Dictys, who were eye­ witnesses, were more reliable than Homer, who lived long after the event, survived the renaissances Sidney, it must be remembered, in his Apology for Poetrr (published in 1595, but written 1582-3) contrasted the "right Aeneas" of Dares with the "fayned Aeneas" of V ergil.^ It was not until the beginning of the eighteenth century that Jacob Perizonius, in a dissertation prefixed to the 1702 edition of the Delphin Classics, exploded the pre­ tensions of Dares and Dictys and incontrovertibly revealed them as forgers. But by this time Dares and Dictys had become thoroughly imbedded in the literary tradition of the Vest. "Both authors appear in innumerable translations and adaptations in the more common languages of Europe, Dares also in an Irish version [the Togail TroiJ. and in an Icelandic [the TroJumanna Saga]. Repeated allusions to Hector, Troilus, and Achilles in English lists of the popular romances of the day, such as those in the

Cursor Mundi (Eflrly English Text Society. LVII, w . 1-6) and in David Lindsay11 Epistle to his Dreane (ibid. XIX, w . 34-41) indicates that the tale of Troy enjoyed no less favour than the three great rival tales of Arthur, /6 Chari era ango, and Alexander." + Besides Joseph of Exeter's epic, four other poems which tell of the destruction of Troy have come down to us from Medieval England. They are Seege (Batayle) of Troy (early 15th century or late 14th); The Gest Historiale of the Destruction of Troy (c. 1400); The Laud Troy Book (early 15th century); and John Lydgate's Troy Book (1412-1420).

None of these is totally devoid of merit, but by far the most important works of English literature in the tradition of the medieval Troy Tale are u those which tell not the whole story of the war, but only a particular and noteworthy part of it. They are Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde. Henxyson's Teatqwiftnt of Creaseld. and Shakespeare's Troiluq and Cresslda. None comes directly from Dares or Dictys and the line of literary descent may be traced as follows! Dares sowed the seeds of the story by i) describing, in his catalogue of notabilities, Troilus* Briseida, and Diomedes; ii) telling of the wounding of Diomedes by Troilus; iii) reporting how Calchas joins up with Achilles at Delphi when the oracle orders him to join the Greeks. Then in c. 1160 A.D. Benoit de Sainte-Jfore wrote his long (30,000 verses) poem, Le Roman de Troie. This is based primarily on Dares, but also uses Dictys to a small extent. Benoit for the first time tells of the love affair of Troilus and Briseida. In the thirteenth century Guido delle Colonne, a Sicilian, citing

Dares and Dictys as his authorities but making no mention of Benoit, wrote a prose paraphrase of the Homan de Troie. which he called Historia Destruction Troiae. It also told, in a shortened and slightly altered form, of the love of Troilus and Briseida. In both Benoit and Guido the story is scattered over several different passages. Boccaccio, using Benoit as his main source, pieced the story together and added several details of his own. He tells how Troilus falls in love with the heroine (whom he now calls Griseida and not Briseida), and adds Pandaro. His tale is much influenced by the Achilles and Polyxena story of the Dares-Banolt tradition. 45

Boccaccio, supplemented by Benoit, Guido, and "Dares", was the source of Chaucer's masterpiece Troilus and Crisevde. Henryson* s Testament of Creaseid is an invented sequel to Chaucer's poem. Shakespeare's Troilus and frrg^ldfl. while owing something to Chaucer and Henryson, is based primarily on Carton's Hecuyell of Histories of Trove (1474), which is an English translation of Raoul LeFevre's French translation of Guido's HIatoa Destruction!s Troiae. Where does Joseph of Exeter fit into all this? Nowhere, was the answer scholars would have given until 1917, when Robert Kilburn Root tn published "Chaucer's Dares" in Modern Philology. f Root begins by pointing out that the brief and meagre nature of the prose De Ercidio Troiae His tori a led scholars, among them Karl Young and Professor Lounsbury, to believe that by Dares Chaucer was thinking of Benoit or Guido, or merely echoing the frequent citation of Dares by them.

It is Root's thesis, however, that Chaucer wa3 probably thinking of neither Benoit, Guido or Dares, but of Joseph of Exeter. His arguments in support of his contention are as follows! i) Joseph of Exeter's Iliad is neither brief nor meagre but is six books long and is replete with poetry and heroic rhetoric, ii) In each of the three extant manuscripts of Joseph's poem with which Root was acquainted (l. Westminster Abbey, Chapter Library, No. 18; 2. Bodleian, Digby 157; 3. Paris, Bibliotheque Nationals, 15015) the poem is assigned to Dares Phrygius and nowhere is there any indication that it is the work of Joseph of Exeter. (All predate the life of

C haucer.) 46 iii) In the stanza in which Chaucer bids the reader turn to "Dares* for an account of Troilus1 "worthy dedes" and his "armes" there is at least the implication that "Dares" confines himself to the battles of Troilus, to the neglect of his love. This is true of Joseph's poem; Benoit and Quido give us both. iv) Joseph was indisputably the direct source of many of the details in

the portraits of , Criseyde and Troilus in Troilus, and of the catalogue of trees in the Parliament of Fowls, v) "If any further proof is needed [that Chaucer knew Joseph's poem and used it for his portraits], it is furnished by the fact that in two of the manuscripts of Troilus lines from the Latin poem are written beside the Btanzas which we have been considering." 43 Hoot's conclusion might be quoted in fulls "The identification of Chaucer's 'Dares' adds one more to the already long lis t of the poet's 'bokes olde and newe'. It does more than this; it shows us something of his methods of work. Not content with supplementing the Filostrato by details drawn from Benoit and Guido, he went back to what he may well have regarded as the primary source of all, the Iliqd of Dares Frigius."4.9

5. Manuscripts and Editions

a) Manuscripts

So far five manuscripts of Joseph'b epic have been discovered. All belong to the thirteenth century. They are

(1) W - Westminster Abbey No. 18; (2) C - Coxpus Christi College, Cambridge, 406; 47

(3) B - Digby 157, in the Bodleian Library at Oxford; (4) A - Benedictine Library, Admont, Steiemark, Austria, No. 128;

(5) P - Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, fond3 Latin. 15015. Their merits and relationships are fully discussed by RLddehoughin his Dissertation, pp. 16-20, 26-37. He favours W as "the best and the least e r r a tic " . b) Editions Joseph's Trojan epic was printed under the name of at Basle in 1541, 1558, 1583; a t Antwerp in 1608; at Milan in 1669.^ Samuel Dresemius (Frankfort 1620 and 1623) was the first to assign the poem to Joseph of Exeter. J. More's London edition followed in 1675. In 1702 Joseph's epic, together with Dresemius' notes, was joined with D lctys and Dares and published a t Amsterdam "in usum sereniaslm i D elphlni". This edition was reprinted in two volumes by A.J. Valpy in London, 1825. J.J. Jusserand published Book I of the poem in his thesis De Josenho

Bxoniensi vel Iscano. Paris, 1877. In 1951 Geoffrey B. RLddehough completed a new edition of the entire work as his Ph.D. dissertation for Harvard University. I have based my translation on RLddehough's edition, which has the merits of being accurate, painstaking, coramonsensical, and available. I have also consulted, with little need and less profit, Valpy and Jusserand. 6. The Present Translation.

Good translations, as everyone knows, should reproduce not only the meaning but also the "spirit" of the original. But, as everyone also knows, it is often hard to put theory into practice. This is particularly the case when one is translating from the highly-coloured, rhetorical and deliberately quirky language of Silver Latin — and Joseph, who modelled himself so closely, and so convincingly, on Lucan and Statius writes Silver and not Medieval Latin. The reproduction of the mere meaning is difficult enough; but to recapture the "spirit*1 of ornate, highly-wrough t Silver Latin verse in the plain prose of the latter half of the twentieth century is almost impossible.

Use of the anachronistically rhetorical plunges one so easily into the fustian of translationese, as in this sentence, chosen almost at random, from J.H. Motley1 s version of the in the :

"Stern goddess, glory and wisdom of thy mighty sire, powerful in war, thou on whose cheeks the terrible splendour of thy grim casque and blood- besprinkled flow fierce with rage, — nor did ever Mavors or Bellona with her battle-spear inspire more furious trumpet-blasts — look favourably on this offering, whether thou earnest from Pandion* s h ill to be present at my night of triumph, or whether thou dost turn aside from thy glad dances in Aonian I tone, or hast washed and combed thy hair again in Libyan Triton* s waters, whither the fleet axle of thy inviolate mares doth speed thee shouting loud upon thy two-horsed chariot; now do we dedicate to thee the shattered spoils and shapeless armour of thy heroes."51 49

But if one avoids the of translationese one should also steer clear of the Charybdis of Hemingwayesque plainness* What I have done is to use as the basis of my translation what I hope is good, plain, readable prose, and then by a number of touches, almost unnoticeable in themselves, to suggest something of the rhetorical flavour of Josephus Iliad. The whole translation will have to stand as my example* One other simplification must be acknowledged* To make the text meaningful to the modern reader, whose store of classical information will be only a small fraction of Joseph's, I have a) decoded periphrases (e*g*, "the Calydonian exile11 becomes plainly "Tydeus", "the ram of Phrixus" "the Golden Fleece"); b) used, generally speaking, only the one name for the one character* Thus, for example, Venus remains Venus throughout, and does not become ; Bellona remains Bellona, and does not become *

7* The P a ris Commentary The P a ris Commentary on Joseph o f E x e te r's I lia d i s to be found in MS fonda L atin 15015 o f th e B ibliotheque N ationale, f f . 1-12* G.B. RLddehough has transcribed it and has included it in his Harvard doctoral dissertation mentioned above* The Commentary was obviously compiled by a man w ith p r e tty much the same education and background as Joseph and a near contemporary of his (it is written in a thirteenth century hand)* He could follow with ease the twists and turns of Joseph's frequently quirkish mind, and I have found his work of absolutely invaluable assistance in preparing my trans- lation.5 2 I commend it strongly to anyone who sets out to read the original Latin. I shall quote from it frequently in my notes* FOOTNOTES - INTRODUCTION

1. Geoffrey B. Riddehough, The Text of Joseph of Exeter1 g BeJLlum Trolanum. Harvard dissertation, 1950, p. 4- 2. Edmond M artene, Veteruro Scrlptorum e t Monumentorum Nova C o llec tio . Paris, 1724, I* 936-940. Also: J. - P. Migne. Patroloeia Latina. Paris 1855, CCXE, 1305-1308. 3. In modern times Joseph's epic has generally had the title Bellum Trolanum assigned to it. I have chosen to call it The Iliad of Dares Phrvgius for three reasons * i) the title The TroianW ar has just been used by R.M. Frazer, Jr. for his translations of Dares and Dictys (Bloomington, 1966); ii) the title The Iliad of Dares Phrvgius is both descriptive and distinctive; iii) The Iliad of Dares Phrvgius is perhaps the poem's earliest title , and the one by which it was known to Chaucer. (See R.K. Root, "Chaucer's Dares", MP, XV [l917j, pp. 3—4). 4. John Bale, Scrlptorum Illu s triu m M aiorls B rltan n lae Summarium. B asle, 1559, p. 253. 5. Ridrlehough, pp. 1-6, deals exhaustively with the unsubstantiated speculations concerning the life of Joseph. 6. William Camden, Remains concerning Britain. London, 1870, pp. 338-9. 7. Dictionary of National Biography. London, X, 1094* 8. I am quoting from Bishop Stubbs' translation (William Stubbs, Seventeen Lectures. Oxford, 1886, p. 119.) 9. Albert C. Baugh, A Literary History of England. New York, 194®, p. 146. 10. Charles Homer Haskins, The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century. New Yoric, I960, pp. 6-7. 11. Stubbs, p. 123. 12. Ib id . . p . 126. 13. Dictionary of National Biography. London, I, 953.

14. Riddehough, p. 10.

50 51

15. Ify guess is strengthened by Riddehough* s conviction "that Joseph imitated the Alexandre!a of Valter of Ct&tillon, which was written between 1178 and 1182" (p. 7). Furthermore, and I admit that this is rankest Intuition, Joseph1s contemptuous references to the drunkenness of the English (p.80 in this present translation), seem to me to speak of the unco refined sensibility of an Englishman living in France, and it was in 1180 that Joseph went to Gueldres to study. Furthermore, it was in 1184- that Baldwin was elected to the See of Canterbury. Professor F.L. Utley has, in a private note to the writer, pointed out (l) the timeliness of the Henry III reference would be more c. 1183; (2) Joseph* s dedication could have anticipated Baldwin's departure, as "the busy Archbishop must have talked about it for years before". Professor Utley would therefore date the Iliad of Dares more narrowly 1183-1185. 16. "... ut oneris su(i) interventu Cantuariensis Antiatitis sibl gratiam compararet."(Riddehough, p. 319.) 17. F.J.E. Raby, A History of Secular Latin Poetry in the Middle Ages. Oxford, 1934, II, 69. 18. Raby, I I , 15. 19* 1155-1160 is the date arrived at by its modern editor, L. Constans, Le Roman de Troie. par Benoit de Salnte-Maure (Paris, 1904-12). F.E. Guyer. "The Chronology of the Earliest French Romances", HP. XXVI (1929), 257-277, argues for a date after 1184. If Constans is right, Joseph must at least have heard of the Roman de Troie before writing his Iliad. Vas Joseph influenced by RanrfTf.? ty>dftWT says Jusserand is his De Josenhn Rxrmlensi (Paris, 1877) • His chief argument is, however, that Joseph's work predates Benoit — "Quum vero Joaarihmi nnwma «mm> inceperit Benedictua" (p. 100) — and obviously this falls away if Constans is correct. Riddehough (Dissertation, p. 7) writes* "I do not think there is any justification for . . . asserting that our poet was indebted to Benoit de Sainte-More, but I should like to study the latter's Roman de Troie more carefully before taking too definite a stand. I am at present inclined to believe that the resemblances that exist between Benoit's work and Joseph's are mainly due to the fact that both poets used Dictys and Dares.” My own feeling is that Joseph's admiration was so wholly set on the classics that he would have put behind him a work like Benoit's which was both deplorably diffuse and written in the vernacular. The two poems are very dissimilar in spirit. V.B. Stanford (The Ulysses Theme. Oxford, 1963) points to the two as marking "the birth of medieval romanticism and the death of classicism". "It was . . . the English­ man's fate to end an era, the Frenchman's to begin one" (p. 283).

20. For D ictys, see The Tebt.nnip pf - ed. Grenfell - Hunt - Good speed, London, 1907, Part II, pp. 9ff.; for Dares, Otmar 3chissel von Fleschenberg, Dares Studien. Halle - an - der - Salle, 1908, pp. 84-85. 52

21. R.M. Frazer, The Troian War. Bloomington, 1966, p. 124. (The Troian War is the title Frazer has given to his translation of Dares and D icty s.) 22. Frazer, p. 168.

23. Frazer, p. 133. 24. Frazer, p. 165. 25. Frazer, p. 150. 26. Dares' three sentences telling of the dream have been expanded by Joseph of Exeter into 384 hexameters) 27. For an account of this "hope of the Bretons" and Henry II's possible opposition to it, see R.S. Loomis, Arthurian Literature in tee Middle Agea. Oxford, 1961, pp. 64^67. 28. The cause of the Greek'a share in the sufferings would thus seem to have been the fact that they used Argus' invention of a ship for the purpose of theft (the Golden Fleece) — for "labouring along the paths of the waves to crime" (p. 62 of this translation). 29. See Walter Bradbury Sedgwick, "The Bellum Trolanum of Joseph of Exeter," Speculum. V (1930), pp. 49, 58, 65, 67, 68 , 69, 74 for examples of Joseph's borrowings from Lucan. Evidence of the esteem with which the whole age regarded Lucan is supplied by these lines from the Divine Comedy: Homer is he, the poet's sovran lord; Next, Horace comes, the keen satirical; Ovid the third, and Lucan afterward. (Inferno. 7, 88-90, the Sayers translation.) 30. See Sedgwick, op. cit., p. 60. 31. Max Manitius, Geachichte der lateinischen Literatur des M ittelalters. Munich, 1931, III, 13. 32. A ristotle's Art of Poetry, ed. W. Hamilton E^fe, Oxford, 1963, p. 65. 33. Structurally all is not well with this last book of Joseph's epic. It is almost 1%rice as long as the average of the other five books. It looks as if Joseph's material was leading him towards the creation of a seventh book. And this would not do. There was no precedent for it. All other epics came in numbers divisible by six: the Iliad and the Odvasev both had twenty-four books; the Aeneid and the Thebaid had twelve. Even the incomplete Pharsalia had an even number of books (ten). Hence, perhaps the b re a th le ss rush to dispose o f th e homecoming material. In fact, the whole last hundred lines have a somewhat unfinished and weary look to them. Perhaps Joseph had grown tired of his epic, or even perhaps ashamed, (it is possible that Joseph was thinking of his Iliad when he lamented to Guibert [p. 2 of this Introductic that he had "too keenly embraced the wicked delight of words" and had 53

"toiled at tasks displeasing to God.") Certainly in the epilogue, he displays a passionately urgent desire to have done with his pagan "entertainment" so that he may turn to the infinitely more worthy task of writing a Christian epic on the Crusades* 34. Aristotle* a Art of Poetry, p. 68. 35. Walter Bradbury Sedgwick, "The Bell urn Trolanum of Joseph of Exeter", Speculum. V (1930), p. 60. 36. John Milton, Works. New York, 1932, X, 12. 37. Thomas Warton, The History of English Poetry. London, 1824, p. cladi.

38. Raby, II, 137. 39. Sedgwick, p. 49. 40. Manitlus, p. 13. 41. See Sedgwick, pp. 66-69. 42. Frazer, p. 143. 43. I have phrased this so as to indicate a measure of diffidence. A sense of humour is a hard thing to be sure of — particularly when one is postulating it in a monkish writer who lived over seven hundred y ears ago. 44. Joseph is, of course, a frightful snob. His contempt for the masses finds its most concentrated expression when he describes Troilus1 reluctance to waste his time on butchering any more plebs. "It seemed an immense d isg race to d e file h is weapons w ith v ulgar blood, and he avoided robbing the plebs of their mean little spirits" (p. 175). 45. Sidney* s Apoloeie for Poetrle. ed. J. Churton Collins, Oxford, 1907, p. 20. 46. N.E. Griffin, "Un-Homeric Elements in the Medieval Story of Troy," JEGP, VII (1908), p . 37. 47. Robert Kilbum Root, "Chaucer^ Dares", HP. XV (1917), pp. 1-22.

48. Ibid.. p. 15. 49. Ibid.. p. 22. 50. The lengthy titles of these early editions can be found in Thomas Wright, Bio graph!« B rit jmnioa Literarla. London. 1842 and 1846, I I , 406-7. Statius, tr. J.H. Mozley, London, 1961, I, 447-9. 54

52. Sedgwick was so impressed with the Paris Commentary that he believed that its author was none other than Joseph himself. As he sayst "We know that medieval authors who prided themselves on their obscurity or cleverness, glossed their own MSS — e.g., the vain Liutprand and the enigmatic Abbo (author of the Bellum Parisiacum). Possibly the custom was fairly common1*, (p. 70) One of the most notorious examples was Johannes Annius of Viterbo, who in his Antiauitates Variarum (Rome 14-98) forged a series of Greek and Roman "historical" fragments and wrote an elaborate commentary on them. BOOK I

The tears of the Trojan women, the predestined destruction of Troy, the two mighty wars of its princes, the city twice brought to ashes — all this forms the substance of my sad song. I weep also that the wrath of Hercules, the rape of Hesione, the flight of Helen destroyed the citadel, incited the Trojans, and roused to anger the Greek cities.

0 Truth, banished from the ancient confusion of poet3^, why through the long ages do you hide in the wasteland? Uhy do you cower in contempt? Why, hating the old world, do you flee us also, we who long to know you? With me, o mighty one, with me emerge, and take on again a smoother brow. Do not despise my humble voice — the lowly instrument of my martial song* Let the barren past blush as you come adorned, and in liberty lif t up your brow. The ears are eager and the heart loving which you caress* you will endure more lightly the crude laughter of the masses. Our times find no pleasure in new things, and no profit in what the green years give. Hen talk only of Saturn’s Age as golden, and a young man*3 talents are not esteemed. Yet, in s&ite of all this, let youth brave the heights. Let others show their maturity with their beards* their grey hair, their wrinkles; we shall show it in our mind, our soul, our heart. Youth does not bar merit, nor does old age grant it as an undisputed right. And when there is any contest between the two, youth leaps around the ring, old age lies prone; youth springs up like a green sprout, age crumples and droops.

55 56

Should I admire Homer, th a t old man o f Maeonia, o r Homan V ergil — or the Phrygian prophet, Dares, who was there and to whom his eyes, a more certain guide, revealed the war which fable does not know? When the towering hope of my heart has eagerly drunk from this source, what Gods need 1 invoke? My mind, aware of the truth, has banished far from it the deluding fictions of the poets* in my poem you will not 2 find the unbridled lying of Athens and its falsehoods, o Father — you under whose guidance Canterbury flourishes, and in liberty breathes back life into all its former rights. Already your honours grow apace. Three times has the highest office called you* Worcester has known you, now that joy is Canterbury* s, and Rome itself is looking your way: the ship­ wrecked vessel of Peter awaits its captain in the midst of the storm. But you, however, live your life content with your western sheep-fold* not in line of succession, but in morals, you come immediately after 3 / Thomas. Indeed, you are a second Thomas, a second splendid dawn. Happy are they who have no craving for high office. Having attained the heights, honour does not climb down to know itself. Blind power does not see what Fortune can do. Treacherous prosperity does not realise that he who laughs on high, veeps when he is low. Whoever you are, do not offend the gods above with sacrilegious plunder, do not go hunting after office that is for sale. Whoever does so is piling high a pedestal from which to fall. Vengeance dogs the heels of guilt, more deadly when she is late in coming, and full of dread when she is not feared. Nothing is more savage than smooth anger, when successful wrongdoing is happy in the fulfilment of a wretched desire. 57

But you are far different, you into whose keeping that pious and priestly father would wish to come all he gained by his noble martyrdom and the peace he bought by the sacrifice of his life; he himself would yield his reins to you, or indeed happily share them with you. Do you now, at this present time, grant your poet to travel the path he has entered on and to reveal the fall of Troy. Soon the sacred ranks and the holy war w ill take you, and then will you perform deeds worthy of a greater , worthy of all my heart. Tour fame and mine will 5 spread through this whole wide world.

Hie ingenuity of all-working care had been at its play, and had Invented the first ship the world had known. And now the lust for gold, exceeding all the lim its of audacity, sent men across the seas to plunder marriage-chambers and rob the temples of their riches. Is there no end to man* s avarice? Is he not satisfied with the riches he has dragged up from the underworld, the riches which daring ambition and pale plundering have wrenched from the Stygian caves? Why has he not enough, now that kingdoms, cities and even Hell itself lies open to him with treasures for h is grasp? Why does he also have to s e t out across th e unknown waves, to take joy in leaping into the face of storms and living by fate alone?

The departure of the Argonauts for the island of Colchis Jason, son of Aeson, setting out to seize the Golden Fleece, was the

first man to bring the waves to his service. Hercules was pricked by the hope of fame and agreed to unite his strength with Jason's on that hazardous enterprise. Peleus and Telamon, princes both, and all the young warriors, swore to follow them in every hazard of the sea. Some were lost 58 in admiration of the Argo, others were overcome by the thought of the glory to be won. S till others wanted to see a new world and nations far away. Tame to follow the waves which now for the first time they were meeting, the forest1s displaced pine-trees migrated to the bosom of the seat their branches provided the oars. A light-armed exile, the Argo set out wandering over the deep, content with its crude adornments. It had more of strength than refinements of the shipwright's skill. Not yet did

savage superstition burl floating Gods in the face of the deep, nor did 7 flowing linen swell out in the shape of arrogant breastsi these first mariners were pleased by their more fastidious practice, and the novelty of the laborious enterprise lent glamour to the danger.

I t wa3 the first pine-craft to bring its crude refinement from its birth-place on Mr. Haemus to the Syrtes far across the sea. Argus was its inventor and Argo was its name. Both man and ship were unrefined! she harmed nothing in arrogance? not the Gods by shaping them in gold, or gold by dashing it on the rocks. The new guests stared doubtfully at their host the seat they marvelled at the ebb and flow of the waves, they measured the expanse of water with their gaze and thought longingly of their fatherland. They were on the point of lightly abandoning their courageous enterprise and the waves. But the wind caught hold of the Argo. What is your aim, o wrecker of ships? To what fate are you dragging these heroes? It seems that you are bored that men should die only of poison and hard steel, and are thus seeking new and thrilling means of death. Now, came then, mighty Earth, use

your rocks and with a blow of the clashing Symplegades write a new record in the ledger of the world. May that rock take what bloody fate has 59 prepared, and let It triumph In its first deed of anger* But fate was opposed to this, and Atropos, who controls the death of men, fended off the rocks* Gods were more powerful than my prayers* The Areo had watching Gods which it itse lf had made, and made propitious! for before it came along no one had bothered with Aeolus in his cavern, Triton in his waves or the dancing winds in their rock* Had the Areo been destroyed, they would have pined away until the end of the world* Indeed, out of fear, the true father of the Gods, the blind heart of man has made a Pluto for the shadows, Gods for the sky, and divinities for the deep* Scarcely had they sensed the threat of the sea, when they crledi "Aeolus, Aeolus, and you who calm the dark blue ocean with the sceptre you have been given — Neptune, Lord of the waves — grant your protective power to us as we set out* If you bring us back, we will reward you by consecrating altars in your name** Soon the Gods hastened to perform these requests and rejoiced to have been called on. Neptune laid flat the responsive waves, and Aeolus called Zephyrus from his cave to make large the sails, to drive the clouds from the sky and cleanse the day* Thus the ship advanced its serene course, and at length came gliding into a haven on the Trojan shore* The reckless warriors leapt overboard and eagerly possessed the forbidden land* Humour, the destroyer of men, showered sudden uproar throughout the realm and warned the king and populace! "Treachery"! — if foreign ships should couple with their Dardan shores* The masses were stirred and raged! and there were those who threatened the Greeks with L&omedon if they did not of their own accord withdraw from the shore* 60

0 Trojans hateful to the God si Do you thus drive these favourites of heaven and their flourishing gods onto the Syrtes? Gan it be that a great nation is petrified by one little ship? Oh blind ones, what do you dread? He whose fate it is to break monsters in his mighty hand has come g here as a guest not a foe. Fear God — or at least show some understanding to your fellow man. If we are just and measure out the use of things in fair shares, the whole world is the common property of man. But the barbarians, hating the law of nations, and daring sacrilege, confined Nature and set their land apart for their use only. 0 ric h and mighty Troy, o Perganrum, no angry Jove w ill compel your surrender. The Gods and the grim whips of the Furies will not be unjust to you. The native race is itself forging its own fateful destiny, the Trojans are earning from a kindly heaven exile, swords and flames. The Areo was driven away, and in the midst of the waves the Argonauts prayed to their God of Battles. They blazed, and their hearts cried out for arms to follow where anger led, and to wipe out the dishonour of shameful flight with avenging swords. But prudence, which is so rarely a companion of uproar, opposed this move and weighed the might of Troy against the few soldiers they possessed. The voice of wise Nestor took hold of their divided ears. He controlled them in their excitement and soothed their angry breasts. "You, who with your stout-hearted roving have tamed the waves, and have been the first to make trial of the sea and winds — you, who following unfamiliar stars have learnt their moody path, learn also to endure hardship with patience. Patience alone it is that wears down an enemy and guides the virtues; it alone wins bloodless victories and works to the benefit of righteous anger. One has to wait for the right 61 time, the right place* We have all of us been outraged — and without cause* Ve are first going to endure these things so that when war is joined ve may enjoy a better cause and favouring Gods* This injuxy was not done to us alone but to the whole of * One there will be to come with pious sword and avenge the disgrace of his people." Thus he spoke. Thetis was won over and welcomed then alls she exposed her bosom to them as they embarked on their way* Then having measured the restless waves, the Argo turned aside into the waters off the mouth of the Phasis* Abandoning the open sea, she won a bay that was not so good as the last one, but which at least was more free. Here at first she endured great danger in the deep shore-water as the conflicting currents stirred up battles among the waves* The rebellious Phasis audaciously checked the sea with a whirlpool, and thrusting against it, lambasted it as it rushed onto the fields! the river took pity on the lands that were to be destroyed* The sea in its turn raged, and furiously befouled the fresh water, belching its bile into the clear depths of the

ilver. It contemptuously threw off the latter* s grasp* Even the harbour narrows, sheltered from the south wind and with a calm sky above them, incessantly seethed with storms: the broad sea was restive in these cramped

quarters* The sand built up to destroy the ships; the bottom was hidden, and heaped the shallows in masses, giving a false appearance of depth* Tlphys, the helmsman, wavered in two minds* He gazed at the near shore! he feared the spots where he suspected sand-b&nks, and also learned to fear the places where he hoped his passage would be safe. Fear brought out his skill! he sent a skiff into the midst of the waves to investigate the 62 shoals, and It measured the depths with a pole. When the snares of the shore had been revealed, he swiftly propelled the Argo along a path between the banks and reached the landfall he was making for. The prow ploughed into the shattered sand. Why should I speak of the hard terms placed on Jason at Aeetes1 command — of the seeds that he sowed — of the earth-born enemy — of the bulls of Ares — of the watch kept by the monstrous serpent? Fire and sword gave way to virtue, and Jason stole the fleece which he had won by facing o the utmost in danger. Neptune seemed to have realized what had happenedi the sea swelled up high in the path of the fugitives; and the breakers all thundered together on the shores* "Far, far, keep your distance, profane ones I Burdened with plunder, you cannot head for a holy sea." The South wind did not allow this frightening message to harass the heroes* he snatched away the voices of the sea and did not le t them reach the ears of the Argonauts.

The return of Jason with the Golden Fleece The Colchians had been robbed of their Golden Fleece, and the great pirate had sailed off. Should I rebuke this ship for being the first to labour along the paths of the waves to crime, and for adding to the ways of death; or should I praise it for a more potent reason? If oars had not been invented, Memphis would never have known Rome, nor India Spain, Scythia Athens, nor our own Britain France. The watchman on the prow was the first to glimpse and hail the mountains of Greece; and a sudden enthusiasm for rowing surged up in the rest of them. The victorious Argo returned to the fields of Thessaly the men whom she had led out across the seas. 63

Who would speak of the rejoicings of the masses, of the applause which thundered out on all sides? If I should choose to tell the story sparingly men would think I was either unwilling to speak or that I was not sure of my facts; but if on the other hand I should choose to tell it copiously the fastidious ear would refuse to grant its welcome approval

to all the details* marvelled at the return of Peleus, Nestor regained his , and Salamis exulted in its Telamon. Leda rejoiced in her sons, Castor and Pollux, and Zetes and Calais delighted their mother Oreithyia* JLlthea, at this stage still a mother and not only a sister, praised her son Meleager* applauded , A rcadia Admetus* Various o th er c itie s welcomed their native sons — Thalaus, Theseus, and Ancoeus. Jason with his rich plunder entered Peloponnesus*10 The royal palace made merry with games of courtly grace* The masses went to meet their victor and raised high their thankful voices* Joy shone from their guileless faces* Pelias alone grew sick with hatred, which he masked with an untroubled front. He bewailed the offerings he had wasted on the Gods, and rebuked Mars in that he for nothing had allowed his bulls to be tamed and their fire to cool down.11 His anger, which had long been forcing its way to the surface in violent surges, now burst out in an abominable rant of arrogant complaint:

The complaint of Pelias over the return of Jason

"0 Gods, to what place does our incense drift? 0 Fates, what delusion rules mankind? 0 chance to which man is prone, does Fortune preserve the few so that it may bear down on the many? Now I realize it: I have been prolonging my reign against the wish of God* 0 mighty Jupiter, 64 take at l&3t from him who refuses to rule the enjoyment of those things which he spurns. Puff yourself up then over that which I have abandoned, and not been forced to yield. The Gods indeed have not been behind my rule, and would that I had overcome the Thunderer 12 by bribing him with these kingdoms. Indeed, the way my prayers have been treated provokes me more than the loss of my sceptre. Sid I want to banish Jason to the North? He rules. To break him? He mocks me. To snuff him out? He flourishes. To trim his glory? He triumphs. And so, go on, enrich the thankless Gods: give incense to the Thunderer. When you have made your gift, le t him refuse the things you hoped for: let him clutch the gift and laugh at the man he has fooled. One would do better to propitiate Fortune. She it is who holds peace and lightning, who was the first to divide up sovereignty and grant it to the three Gods.13 She it is who banished Saturn, and sported under a new power in the skies. There will come a time when she will reverse all this, and order the kings whom she made to go down with me to the shades below; Jove w ill be banished and the wrath of Saturn assuaged.* Thus, he spoke, and the grim tide of passion devoured his soul. These wrinkles of his heart, however, these battles raging in his mind, he masked with a peaceful brow; his treacherous face borrowed a look of urbanity, softly assumed a mild and gentle air. There followed a victors1 feast, replete with stately uproar. But that predator of heaven and sea and earth — luxury — vent stalking the food which the kings received. Juno observed that the song of was growing faint; Thetis grieved that the nurselings of the sea were being snared; and cruel , angxy that the number of her subjects^ was 65 diminishing, roused herself and fitted the avenging bow to her shoulders* Banging her groves untiringly, she hunted the hunter and sought as her prey those seeking prey* The guests sprawled, the Bacchus, that smooth go-between, gladdened the food which the Goddesses "gave", marvellously blending his liquor with it* The elegant stewards vent diligently about their various tasks! some piled high the bread, some brought in fresh dishes, while others passed the joyous cups. However, whenever the proud King poured a libation of old and splendid vine, they froze to the spot and humbly reverenced the act* This rich abundance of the genial board, these excellent products of sumptuous care, this sweet rivalry of happy toil -- these sober virtue tasted with secure delight* But the joys did not cause the grave heart of Hercules basely to forgets his anger did not relax into sleep* Twice and three times he took up again the question of Troy. His face mirrored his feelings, and he further goaded his seething mind with these words! "Did I not then serving Jove my father in that battle in the cradle, overcome the threats made to my life, and teach the serpents sent from Juno to vail along with me? Alas, the memory shames met Now a hero, a conqueror, a man grown to his maturity, I have, without a fight, given in to the commands of a barbarian* Could mere threats break me? 0 shameful destiny t 0 outrage of the Gods I Someone, more hostile than any fate, has robbed me of the fame I have earned. The weapons were in my hand, the enemy were in front of me. Go now, and pondering former things, wonder at your step-son, renowned wife of Jupiter) The victory was yours, I admit it* I ran awayi your greatest victory was that Hercules ran away. Will you ever bother again with 66

Euiystheus, the harsh deviser of my toils? If I tamed the beast of Lem ; if triple-throated Cerberus vomited back the poison onto 's crags; if heavy Antaeus forgot the genial earth, as I held him up and Ge wondered; if I was able to destroy those other monsters of the world with ray triumphant right hand, it is a monstrous shame to have given up my war — ordinary human war at that — against those Trojan whatevertheyares (I can hardly call them men). Why recall my former noble deeds* gloxy holds back because of my one disgrace. No, rather let the tamer of monsters recall what his sword can confer on him in his late acts of daring! let Troy pay the penalty. Do you who are to lead forth a triumph to Apollo, Neptune, 15 yourself and the Greeks, bring those liars to the destruction they have deserved. Teach them a lesson* show them that the Greeks have not fled but are on the attack, that they who have been able to threaten have also been able to endure.H Having thus inflamed his anger with this silent complaint, he steeled his soul to the highest daring. Even so does a bull, the outcast leader of his herd, lamenting his exile from the stamping-grounds that he loves, angrily hurl his crescent strength at the trees in his path. Aiming himself at his "enemy" he makes of his leisure a time of toil. He shapes stately patterns of fight, and raging with his horns, considers it shame if he does not shatter the trees that he charges. Then he returns with stronger muscles, and, wiping out his former defeat, he rules victoriously and struts about in his laurels.

Hercules1 preparations for war Scarcely had Hercules embarked on the first preliminaries of his campaign when babbling Humour, which snatches from the mouths of princes 67 stuff to sov among the masses and to scatter over trembling cities, sang th a t war was afo o t. (Should I thin k th is c re a tu re , Rumour, th e o ffsp rin g of noxious Hell? Or of Heaven? — for it drags from the darkness the secret whisperings of events, and restores to the light that which was hidden? But no, who would contend that this female rabble-rouser is the creature of heavenly grace? It carries the hallowed confidences of kings to the ears of the world, and scatters them into the mouths of the plebs, pillaging the secret chamber of silent care.) There was no delay, and summoned neither by gold nor the trumpet, the heroes came together and agreed on war. But the plebs also riotously seized arms, and, brandishing unfamiliar swords, they learned to belch out rage in copious gushes. Their threats were many, but their deeds would be scanty. One packed horses into their bridles: he would not remain mounted for long. Another seized a helmet and strutted about, seeming impatient to slaughter his prisoners. Some gazed open-mouthed because the calves of their legs (clapped in armour) had gone stiff. Others overcame by the weight of their shields pitched forward onto them. Some challenged the barbarian kingdoms — their words certainly were valiant. They were brave this side of the battle, safe behind the sea which lay between. The anxious throng of mothers groaned, nor did tears, the sad solace of illboding complaint, refuse to flow. In fact it developed into a weeping contest and even the most thrifty thought Bhe had surpassed all others in tearful lamentation. This one trembled in tile midst of swords, that one ran into Charybdis. A mother18 love, sitting snug and secure, never calms down. 68

0 grovelling mind of man, courage that is flawless does not admit these sighs, does not give its limbs to embraces, does not traffic in kisses — all these she shuns so that war may not be delayed. Hercules, the foster-child of the Fates, scarcely remembered to say "Farewell11. His spirit grew gentle, and with better hope he attended to his proud undertaking. The rigging roared and snorted. With their triple-banked rowers the chosen band tore up the Aegean, while as many masts as oars scraped through the sky. The South wind falling on their shoulders from behind brought the guiltless fleet into the mouth of the Simois. The first to leap ashore (he was followed by Telamon) was Peleus, the pride of mighty Larissa. The sea-born Nereid had married him, not despising a mortal's couch or lesser embraces than those of a God. He made th e Myrmidons famous, and th e e n tire Greek camp, indebted to h is f a te s ,

sang his praises. He was to give Achilles to the nation. (Telamon was to give Ajax, who would prove, no less than himself, a very thunderbolt against the walls of Troy.) Hercules now proceeded with his strategy and divided his fighting- force into three well-balanced units. One group, under Peleus and Telamon, attacked the actual city of Troy. Another group, under Nestor, guarded the ships. The third group followed Hercules and lent its support to both

the others. The Trojan king ordered the defense of his native land, and all the barbarians rushed to arms. Confident that he would burn their ships and scatter the Greeks into the sea, the king ordered his army to march to the shore. He was obeyed, and quickly all leapt into the waves. The , 69 not accustomed to such frightful events, gaped in horror at the sight of arms and were terrified by the uproar. The Greeks pressed the attack with spears, the Trojans with torches. The spears were hurled at breasts, the firebrands at the ships. Mars attacked the sea, that cradle of Venus, with arms, Vulcan with fire. Then for the first time the waves glowed red with war. The murex drank those copious draughts of blood, which he still remembers to this present day, and doles out as purple for the use of kings. This new prey lured the dog 3 of Scylla to the corpses in the tragic seat these monsters of the Sicilian straits joined forces with the barking waves. When they had drunk this grim nectar to the dregs, they scattered among the seas hunting a like potion. Nereus, hearing the noise, was roused from his cave. He shuddered at the changed appearance of the waters. He plunged down and examined the very springs of the ocean. Seeing that Mother Nature had no part in this uproar, he came away more confidently. Come, whatever gods of the waves there are, unleash your waters and drown the warriors; remove and let that other ocean^ roll ini The Fates had to excuse their first crime; are they also going to let this wicked frenzy go unpunished? The sea is full, and foams with pitiable bloodi the waves are on fire, and smoke. Scylla arouses Charybdis a n d monsters grow fat on our slaughter. If you judge that both sides should die, if you award punishment to fit the offense, the Trojans will die for perjury, the Greeks for blazing the trail to crime.17 What are you waiting for, you sluggards? Crime grows worse when vengeance is slow. 70

Now the Trojan soldiers began to ring the towering stockades of the walls in trembling bands. Their very lives were at stake. This was no case of envious ambition for the throne playing at war. Here towering rage, and frenzy* not needing the goad of savage wounds, was pricking them to battle. Both sides were ablaze with arrogant hatred, Peleus, hurling a lance, was the first to rein his horse at the opposing walls. He was inflamed when the spear broke. "This way," he cried, "this way lies the entrance to hospitality, and those inhospitable homes which will be opened up when my hand batters on their doors. Let the city entertain us, and the harbour host the others." He spokes and all the Greeks pressed on as if the cause of war was recent. Their anger was not less for the long delay, and it inflamed their minds to battle more than did the commands of the trumpet promising them their prayers. The fighting was fast and furious! our men did not fear the precipitous moat or the water seething in it. Each man thought of himself not only as a soldier, but as a captain leading on others.

Some attacked the moat, striving to build sure pathways across it: they overcame its depths by hurling vast structures into it. Others, impatient at the delay, tried to climb its steep sides. Now the stones and other missiles on the wall were beginning to peter out, but nevertheless the Trojans kept on attacking furiously from above, hurling down broken bits of timber and rock. Some valiantly showered their javelins, others cruelly poured down torrents of blazing flames. Dimmus tried to charge up through this deluge of missiles, and he stuck there, his face transfixed to the wall. They poured down the liquid on him, a deadly shower, and stripped him of his protection. His bare head was robbed of its hair and beard,

and the deadly liquid penetrated into his innards. 71

Telamon rushed furiously up, hidden and protected by the tortoise formation. He undermined the stability of the wall with his picks, and then when it was tottering forward about to crash headlong, he withdrew. When the dust had settled he was the first to take possession of the city he had smashed open.

The k illin g o f Laomedon Meanwhile a grim voice unnerved the king as he was trying to destroy the sails with fires "Against whom, busy leader of the Trojans, against whom are you warring? Detesting your fellow citizens, do you toil to establish the peace of the monster-spawning sea? Do you press hard the terrified and the routed? And do you burn the fleet so that no way of escape may be left to the enemy? They are engaged in nearer acts of daring. Turn your eyes on them, and take pity on your cityl" Scarcely believing what he heard, Laomedon stood frozen to the spot. He saw, however, that Pergamum was being destroyed, that the enemy was pressing on, and that the Trojans were tottering. Quickly he seized his thunderstruck battalion, and not drawing in his wings — as even the elementary strategy of those days demanded — he charged back with his scattered detachments. Hercules did not bother to make a stand, but joyfully encountered him on the run. He cried outs "Once, long ago, when the Greeks wearily reached your harbour and the longed-for shore, you cruelly refused them the meagre help of your land, and a slender stay, despising Minerva and her 18 branch of peace. Now it is your turn: he comes back as an enemy who once came as a guest." 72

So he spoke, and drawing his sword, he ran the king through. Violently he hacked away the pi ate- annour of the breast and the protective layers of the shield. He winkled out the soul that had lurked behind so many defenders, and ordered it to find its home in hell. When their king was slaughtered, the Trojans ran. The enemy plundered the wealth of the city. Some thirsted to appease their anger with countless slaughter. At length a kingly voice rebuked the plundering mobs of raging Greeks. "Be sparing, o victorious Greeks, check your hands. They both sin with equal blemish, are both equally pitiless, who spare all and who spare no-one. It is the mark of a nobleman to proceed within the bounds of his anger and to punish only the guilty. Now that the might of the kingdom, the city, has fallen, and the enemy has yielded, now that the tyrant has been killed, le t the Trojans learn by Greek example how to be gracious to those who are down. Of our own accord we give the fields to the farmer, the fortress to the soldiers, the sea to the sailors, and the city to the citizens. But let every survivor of this dread stock of Trojan kings perisht for it is a joy to root it out and destroy it.” Thus was it spoken, and Amphitus, Isiphilus, Volcontus and the fair Hesione were dragged before the captains, their hands savagely clamped behind their backs with chains. The men were dragged off to cruel deaths; but Hesione was given to Telamon as a prize, because he was the victor of Pergamum, because he had been the first to shatter the defenses of the city and open it up to its enemies. And so the Greeks, having seized plunder and Hesione, put to sea. They decked their ships with laurel, the badge of triumph, and shook the stars with their cheers. 73

The return of Priam from Eastern

Priam, preserved for the later anger of the Fates and other disasters, had not been in Troy during the Greek invasion. Joyous victory, laying waste Eastern Phrygia, had favoured him with a successful campaign. Now he was on his way back, and his ears were ringing with the cheers of the partners in his triumph. Lachesis, the treacherous sister, harsh to mankind, mocked his dubious sovereignty: Priam enlarged his territory, but Troy crashed to its destruction; he had sought a new world for his sceptre, but all the time the glory of that sceptre had been tottering. The Fates granted him to return in triumph to kis kingdom; but grim, harsh Fortune begrudges its favours. Trouble and grief are its gifts, and it allows some a brief taste of sweetness only to punish them the harder. And now with trembling heart Priam drank in the prospect of the city.

G rief swooped to meet him, and th e c itiz e n s when they saw him greeted him with tearful clapping of their hands. Horror moved to the attack! the captains were bewildered; and an unhappy wail of lament ran through the whole column. The citizens thronged around on all sides: they found consolation for the disaster that had befallen them in the thought that

Priam still lived. And Priam, although his heart inside him was brimming with grief, rebuked the tears that grew to his eyes. He wanted his people at least to find something to hope for in their prince: that man is completely wretched to whom not even hope is le ft.

Description of Trov No time was wasted. Priam rebuilt the city, spreading it over a larger area. Stronger defense works would now bar the just vengeance of the Greeks. The walls were repaired where they had been damaged, and they 74

shot up again more soundly constructed than before. The number of gates was limited to six, and each was made an integral part of the stone walls. Furthermore, each was double! one section swing lightly on a hinge to open or to bar the way, the other was a portcullis suspended for secret use in war. The Trojans were now glad that their fortress had fallen, for a greater one had taken its place, and the loss had in fact been a gain. The battlements bristled with tall merlons which would beat back the best of attackers; and no less frequent were the turrets which would lend their fine support. 1 loftier palace rose, its summit rivalling the clouds above. It would have stood as tall as the line dividing man's world from the Gods', if it had not been so reckless and had been content with its rightful share of space. Instead, it invaded heaven, presuming upon a sphere not its own. It more than Babel' s tower deserved the dividing up of tongues 19 , it more 20 than Pelion piled on Ossa deserved the thunderbolts of Jove. No-one has had a larger tract of heaven, to no-one has Olympus appeared so indulgent. Towers almost as high were scattered throughout the city, bearing witness to the efforts of the ; the proud citizens, seeking the heights, scorned the ground. Chimneys, sprouting up from furnaces on all sides, belched out their pitchy flames. , biting into the sky with his vast palace, soared steeply aloft, challenged by the leaping walls of An tenor. Limping Anchises, however, spared his poor crippled feet, and detesting every step he took, he gazed at the magnificence of the city and its thundering streets with the aid of mirrors. 75

Lying not far distant, beyond the fields, Mount Ida reared its lofty summit. The ancient dweller on the mountain, the forest, flourished. Growing straight and tall were the lordly fir, the weeping cypress, the prophetic laurel, the wandering pine, the reconciling olive, the hunting cherry, and the daring ash. Also standing there was the elm, holding up his friend; 21 and the singing box-tree, which never grows old, A little lower down the drunken vine was clinging on; disdaining to lie hidden it called for Phoebus, the Lord of Heat. A neighbouring field pumped its richness into the bursting corn-ears. Falernus had no greater draughts of wine, no greater feasts of the harvest grain. Watering the neighbouring fields was the Simois, which had come from another part of the world to see Troy, It hoped, by its long wandering past so many cities, to have earned the right to disembogue as a Trojan into the rolling sea; and while with unwearied gaze it looked in wonder at Pergamum, it checked its declining course, braked its flow still slower, and determined to embrace all the city that it loved. Angry at the check to its waters, the sea thrusted in more furiously: compelling the smaller river to go far off, it tried to draw right up to the city. In fact it looked like a non-stop struggle to see who could get closer, such was the clashing of rival waves, the incessant roaring, the m ingling and the braw ling. The glorious Gods came swooping in from all sides and deigned to grace the fields, the mountains, the walls and sea of Troy: they gave to heaven-propping Atlas a respite. Cybele took up her abode on Ida, lording it on the lofty heights: the rest of the mountain woodlands she gave to 76

Dianaf marking out the tracts for hunting. A grove of vine-shoots closed Bacchus round, a forest of corn, Ceres. Neptune ruled the waters off Troy, Apollo the harbour, and Athene the citadel. The city's destiny was in the keeping of the Palladium. There was a hallowed spot in the centre of the city where a pygmy summit strained up to form an almost imperceptible knoll. Here flashed the altar of Jove in his majesty; the sceptre and the thunder-bolts were in h is hands. This was a somewhat d iffe re n t fig u re from th e b u ll o f the 22 Phoenicians o r th e ram o f th e In d ian s. BOOK I I

The Judgement o f P aris

Nov Priam prospered, fortunate In the many children of his loins, fortunate in his marriage, fortunate in the lands of his inheritance — if only the Gods, if only the Fates had allowed it, if only it had been permitted to the lucky to continue in their good fortune* Allecto saw the citadel which she had broken enjoying a better fortune* She saw, she blazed with fury, and, angrily tossing the snakes which clustered about her temples and her cheeks* she cried: "I am queen of hell, mistress of this world and — would that it were — mistress of heaven too. Will a mortal kingdom continue to provoke me throughout eternity? The shame of itl Troy makes merry, surviving the Greeks who were the instruments of my wrath. Does it dispute my triumph, does it deny that it is vanquished? Let it therefore crash to destruction more swiftly, this city which was granted to me at its birth." Thus she complained, begrudging Priam his little portion of peace. She clutched the servile neck of her sister, and drenched it with her unavenged tears. 0 Father of both men and Gods, why do you cherish the one and punish the other? Is it because man inhabits this wretched earth that he is despised? Certainly you have given to tears and to darkness the creatures you have banished from the light of heaven. 0 most worthy Father, now at

77 78 last give way a little* Bring them back and restore them to the light — or at least keep those whom you have exiled, from destruction and violent death* Why does pitiless Allecto rage against the wretched Trojans? Why does she torment holy Pergamum which has put its trust in all its many Gods? 0 Virgin Goddess, Minerva, whose renown fills the skies, stop holding back. Do not allow the citadel which you inhabit to be attacked with such frenzy. Hold up the Gorgon's head in front of you, and turn to stone those Stygian Medusas* Look, the Furies, those nurses of outrage, demand to share your altars and your incense; they demand that they, the tyrants of the night, be admitted to a heaven that is barred to them, and become fellow citizens of the Gods* will not leave Priam unpunished! having refused to worship her, he will pay for the ill-w ill he has aroused* Priam's mind, goaded hy the hellish frenzies of grief and wakeful sorrow, pulled him now this way, now that, it one moment he was for demanding the return of Hesione under threat of aims, at another he dreaded the thought of war. At length his prayers steeled his resolve, and he decided to try the Greeks with flattery* He called to him his envoy, Antenor, and entrusted to him his plea* It was contained in this smell document! "Up till the present, o mighty race of unvanquished Greeks, the freedom of has stood fixm in the face of all shocks. But now fortune has begrudged her wonted favour, and the high point of our affairs has gone into a decline* To be vanquished by Hercules, however, is not so disgraceful, and destruction at the hands of such a mighty one is light to bear* Now, since humility finds favour, I put aside my royalty and descend to humble entreaty* Thus did India approach Bacchus, Croesus Cyrus, and Cyrus Tomyris. 79

If Fate had been better and had held to the course on which she had started, I myself would have been the one to whom entreaties were addressed — begged to preserve the peace as a judge, or to direct battles as a prince. For shame, you Gods I What grim Fury mocks the world? I went out as a soldier; I directed battles as a general; I was victorious. But why flatter me with a triumph in the Bast, o Fortune, if you were preparing for me a return made wretched by death and destruction? Was this the parade due me after such great exertions? Was this the reward I earned of you, o Troy, you who were preparing the many shapes of death to meet my return? Savage was that day, a day ever to be lamented, on which my homecoming was suddenly greeted by th e sig h t and sounds of the most pitiable destruction of my fatherland. It would have been better if Bastern foe or Greek had with his sword shattered this life which has endured so many sorrows. What pleasure have I had from my sceptre and the lofty trappings of kingship? Is pleasure possible when I am plagued with the memory of father and brothers slaughtered, of sister abducted? "Have p ity on me, g reat lo rd s o f th e Myrmidons. Chief fo r a butchered father, the sight of a gutted palace and the fall of my household gods — le t that be revenge enough for you. Give me back Hesione, my solace for

all these tears. To you this is a small tiling, but to me, how greatt Tou w ill be restoring to life and health one who is now dead I" After this lament a warm shower of tears flowed down the faces of Priam and the man to whom the letter was entrusted. The West winds pledged a kindly sea, and Antenor lapped up the miles. Bearing his king* a message with him across the waves, he stopped briefly 80 at Phthia, lofty Sparta and prophetic Pylos, and at each presented his case* But the words of Priam moved no-one -- not Feleus, not Castor and Pollux, not aged Nestor. At length Antenor came to the city of happy Telamon. Destiny was now drawing in on them all.

The wedding of Hesione The lofty palace gleamed. Purple made from many a murex spread Sidonian luxury through the halls, and proclaimed the festive day on which Juno was to bring marriage to the royal bed. All celebrated the feast with joyful din; and the spirit of good living laid before the guests the choicest of his prizes. It was a joy to dine splendidly from many a sumptuous dish. Nor were those goblets absent which cause a prolific thirst. Men took delight in recharging their glasses and comparing the different wines.

The nobles themselves courteously indulged in drinking; while their bibulous retainers bellowed* "Ho there, !" Splashing the liquor into golden cups, they accepted invitations from themselves. These befuddled plebs, who would rival the English for thirst,^ and were pastmasters of the long swallow, rejoiced that they had exchanged their common cups and watered wine for the royal drink of kings. Delight, which rarely comes to men, made up for its tardiness. It did not lie back and yawn, until with the mind vanquished, the tongue fell silent, the lights grew double and the footsteps tottered. The re s t o f the palace made merry w ith many types o f d in . Some gave delight with cymbals, and others with the lyre. S till others with melodious lips showed off their native skills* content with the cords which nature gave they did not beg the help of art, did not ask the singing 81 strings to bolster up the -voice. The Muses gladly supplied their own embellishments, and made it a triumph of voice and talent alone. Not all, however, indulged in this general merry-making. The different age-groups tended to follow their own pursuits* grey-beards swapped y arn s w ith grey-beards, and th e young men went o ff to p lay games. A conductor now stepped out and started the choral singing, directing the obedient dancers with this song: "Rejoice, fellow citizens, nurselings of rich Salamis, rejoice! Hesione, the daughter of Priam, is marrying our victorious king." They all cried with one voice* "Oh, happiness1" and then again they redoubled the cry: "Happiness, happiness!" The leader, fitting the melodious measures to the lyre, then sent these words soaring to the ears: "Why do we marvel at the ancestors of the Greek race, at the battles of long-ago? Let us rather wonder at the man whom this our present day and age has produced, the father of our prosperity and master of the universe, Hercules, who is praised from pole to pole, whose aid the heavens sought when they were going to battle down the savage and called for the defense of the twin thunderbolts of Hercules and Jove. Fierce Juno, cruel Eurystheus, all his labours — none of these have exhausted him. The cradle smacks of his first exploit, accomplished with his new-born might. The Nemean lion gasped in terror at the arms of the grown man. Mt. Erymanthus breathed again after he had driven off the boar. The bull, falling victim to his victorious club, released from his dread. Geryon wept for his oxen, which Cacus then hid in his accursed eaVe. Neither the heads of the Hydra, constantly renewed, huge Cerberus, nor the Lapithae, got the better of our hero. He carried off the apples of 82 the , which were guarded by the dragon. He hurled the scourge of Africa to the winds* with devastating skill he taught this foe, Antaeus, about the stars, Antaeus who till then had been an earth-measurer only, , who attacked, and Nessus, who ran, were given good cause to lament their lust for Deianira, He tamed the horses of Dicmedes, He stripped Hippolyta of her arms, and tamed the Styraphalian birds with his c ru el bow, ■Not only the earth, but also the heavens, are indebted to you, You have been, and will continue to be, a mighty support to both. ■Grant, o mighty one, a lucky augury to bride and groom, and may it be good that we sang your praises. If you give the order, all monsters will go far off. Hymen will smile and Juno, now yours, will show her favour. Thus may Saturn* s daughter, , give birth to a child in the heavens, and our king's new bride bless him soon with issue," The palace again resounded with applause, and the happy plebs chimed in with festive din, Hesione alone troubled the guests with her grim expression. She scorned the applause, and hated those who praised her. She wasn*t moved at all by the honour shown to her, by the magnificent dowry. She did not marvel at the unfamiliar customs. She thought of herself as raped, and sorrowfully mourned her fate. Whenever the court applauded her she feared as a prisoner the name of queen. She had not the confidence of a free woman, but would go timidly under orders to the marriage-bed that had been forced on her. When birds who celebrated the marriage with tuneful lyre, sang sweetly to the others, it seemed to her feverish imagination that 83 night—wandering owls were hooting, that the bird of ill omen was crouching on the roof, and that the Sisters, the brood of and , were carrying the funeral torches. Alas, poor girl, she could not see the future, could not see how she would give birth to the savage enemy of her father’s issueI She refused the goblets and the glasses which were offered to her* Instead she filled a cup to overflowing with her silent grief, and drank her tears. Although hungry, she had no appetite, and just toyed with the food which piled up in front of her, untasted. Meanwhile a more sombre guest, Antenor, came gliding into the harbour of Salamis. Under the protection of a branch of Minerva's olive he approached the lofty citadel. The rest of the palace paused to find out who he was: only the new bride recognised in this Trojan hero a fellow citizen. Modestly she turned her face away and marvelled at him as he made this entreaty: "Magnificent offspring of sceptre-bearing Jove, born at only one remove from him, revered by the Greeks for your justice, and mighty in war — Telamon — the whole of Troy and its king makes humble entreaty to you. May your citizens under your guidance have pity on us. Do not allow all those hardships of mine on land and sea to have been in vain. It is only after much suffering that I have reached this spot.

I see before me the girl who is the subject of my entreaty, I see before me Hesione. Juno certainly does not approve of this transaction: will a prisoner ever get pleasure front one who has enslaved her, one who is weeping from one who is merry, a slave from her master, or a Barbarian from a Greek? Far better to give her backt Your continent is full of fine young women, is thronging with brides. Choose another girl, one born 84 with a better destiny. Hesione was bom under a grim constellation and was condemned to abduction. She comes as easy plunder to a l l; th e re i s always the threat that she will be abducted. Hercules knew the women of Greece, and so did the two wanderers Castor and Pollux, and Peleus and

Nestor, when with ready assent fickle Hesione w s b assigned to you as your share of the plunder. Unhappy Priam would not have packed me off unwillingly to your land if he had thought any part of a blood-related race would survive the disaster of his fatheivland* s fated destruction. He acknowledges that the life of this girl is owed to you, not to the Gods, this life which he rejoices has been preserved for him — n "For him? Say rather for Telamon,* interrupted the Greek prince, snatching unwilling kisses from the weeping girl. “With my sword I won the right to enter these arms." Thus he interrupted, and quoted the Theban boast, "It is mine, and 2 will long be mine.* Antenor was driven off, and he departed. Crossing again the sea by which he had come, he sailed back to the fatherland and there gave a complete account of his mission to his fellov-citi zens. He told them Hesione was married, and that the Greeks had no respect for their rights* He urged war* Sick with unjust suspicion, Paris cried out: "Do not believe him, Trojans, he is making fools of us. I wonder that he can smile* He has looked after himself alone, and has not brought back what we hoped for; he has worked for his own good only, and has forgotten about the honour of us all. That man looks after public affairs badly, whose own affairs have prospered. A blood relative, however, does not wear a sword which 85 lingers coldly in its scabbard. Make ready a fleet and sails for me* I will go, I, Parist The Syrtes which trembling Hector has raised as an objection, hold no terrors for me — nor do arms arrayed against me, or foes, or the hazardous voyage to their realms. A power from on high treats me as a favourite. It appoints my ways, and gives me hope as I make ready to go. Listen to me closely, gentlemen,an d I will tell you of a remarkable but true experience. “Aurora, about to leave her husband's bed, was weeping that day had dawnedj but already the heat, now stronger, had melted her chill tears, which some men call dew. The sweet sport of the forests was calling me to plunder the wilds, to track down swift beasts, and chase them with eager hounds. Swiftly aroused, the trappers, the beaters, the trackers invaded th e woods to g e th e r. "A divine power caused me to lose my way, and drove me into a deep grove, more remote than the rest, and there made it mine to hunt the secretB of the Goddesses. In this place, the queen of the vale of Ida, a laurel tree most worthy of Apollo,^ soared up in leafy splendour. The lesser trees had been banished, and it flourished there alone, sharing its shade with no other. The rest of the forest bowed its stately height in obeisance to Apollo. It kept its distance and rebuked those leaves which rashly demanded a larger place in the sun. It dreaded to tangle with the sacred branches. ttTo this spot, God or chance — certainly a most welcome confusion — brought me, alone and separated from my friends. Happy in this shade, I gazed in wonder at the laurel which suffered no change as the sky changed, because the immortal youth had willed it so. I was gazing also at the East 86 wind flattering the foliage with its murmur, and at the breeze breathing its secrets to the leaves, when gradually sleep, the thief of sight, and summoner of languid r e s t, cheated ray h e a rt o f i t 3 winsome study, and beguiled all my cares. Thus with ray drooping head pillowed on the grassy turf, I drank the delights of the Gods* This was not the sleep which is wont to play frivolous tricks on the pleb3 , but such a sleep as deigns the dreams of king3. •Soon Juno, bride of the Great Thunderer, Venus, and Athene entered my languid eyes. I dreamed that X had not been sleeping long when the greatest of them, Juno, woke me up sayings

Juno1s speech. The Goddesses compete in a beauty contest *We have come to the Trojan woods, 0 Dardan, I, Juno, the bride of great Jupiter, martial Athene, and lovely Venus. Rejoice for Mercury, the only step-son I nurtured at ray breasts, has brought to you what Pate would refuse to give, and prayer fear to utter — the task of judging the beauty of goddesses. 'I the only love of the Thunderer, I who regulate the treaties which 5 govern the triple kingdom, I whom the waves of Neptune, the hellish dungeons of Pluto, and the stars of Jupiter obey — I, I say, will not be angry if X am praised by a mortal judge. X who will return no less pleasing to Jove, will not be angry if he lingers, as if in doubt, on my face. If he takes a long time it will be because he is lost in wonder. So that you do not go away perhaps thinking that the acclaim which Fame, my servant, pays me is unfounded, come look — my naked face, a sight seen seldom by the God3. 87

’Even so do I come to the embraces of Jove. Gaze now and ask, who dared compare Pallas, this Gorgon, this battling , with my fair loveliness. The world has not become so utterly shameless that this terror of the nations, this stampeder of the masses, this carrier of death can hope to please by the very means she inspires horror. 'Do you want to be given some advice, you gruesome one? (I almost made a mistake and said "gracious one".) There is no need here for a sword. Take off your serpents, and your armour too; let eveiyone see your charming face, bare your forehead, throw off your helmet and allow

the horned serpents under it to breathe. Reveal the horror which the helmet hides, and the shame which the shield conceals! dare to earn the

gasps that are rightly yours. Will this bright steel, this menacing gold grind out some aid to your beauty? Just how wrong can you be — o

cruellest of the God3? There is horror in steel, gold in a helmet flashes with the menace of lightning, and ivory clapped on a sword-hilt grows cruel. Now that you have been told these things, do you come along with te rr if y in g gew-gaws and wish to give d elig h t? 'Did you lie when you said Jove was your father? By which disastrously aspiring concubine, I wonder? The word is, however, that you have no mother. 0 shame of the Gods, is this the reason that this arrogant female boasts that she remembers only her father? 'Has she earned the title of Warrior Maid? Certainly the Gods hate her, and she in turn scourges them. As for mortals, she devours them. She is, as they say, the creature of Mars, and therefore she mars men. However,

let her name be Pallas* either because she is pale or because she cut the 88 other Pallas' throat. She has earned the name by double right* by her complexion, by her murderous right hand, 'And you, you hussy, you prodigy of sex, more feminine than you have any right to be, and more delightfully soft than is fair, are you then Venus and do you dare to intervene in this beauty contest? Do you know whose rights you are challenging? 'But who will believe me? Juno has so many rivals. Once I was the only one and there was none to compare with me. When provident Nature ordered her universe, my husband stood without a wife. He was still like this when the stern beard began to appear on his face, and so Mother Nature said to him* "What are you w aiting fo r, you h e ir o f heaven? What you demand, you will have. This girl has been joined to you by blood; she will be coupled even closer by your embraces. She is your sister; she will be your bride. One chosen by you from all the others — one, but such a one that earth cannot name, nor the heavens know, another quite so fair. The fruitfulness of her womb will admit no equal." So saying, she surrendered the reluctant girl to the kisses of her eager brother. 'Aware of his sister's wish, he gave her the sceptre to hold with him as equal. Therefore let Venus go and challenge my beauty. I went to marry Jove as the one he had chosen. But I am wrong, the Goddess of Paphos should rather have gone — and why not? She had a fine beginning, taking shape, as she did, from foaming sea and hacked-off pudenda. Carrying Jove1 s child in her womb she would have submitted herself to warlike Mars — and to the general public. In this way this doubtful heir of heaven would have adulterated Jove's golden majesty with base metal. Vulcan, who neither with the help of Apollo's information or the avenging net could 89 obtain loyalty or a night free from care, would have gone to avenge half-heartedly the disgrace of another1 s shame, and would have sighed for loves not his own. I will keep quiet about Anchises. Who, in fact, does not know the blatant intrigues of this Goddess? But the honey- tongued, the generous, the golden girl is weaving her wilest the generous one is being generous to evil, the golden one is after the golden apple. On a former occasion — and I well remember it — it fell to me alone to enter into a dispute with Jove.^ Where then was Venus? Did she come to make up th e th ird ? And where on e a rth was P allas? Did she come and make up a fourth, although she had been ordered to? No, it wa3 Juno who stood before the judgement of Teiresias. I will be silent about what happened on that occasion. You, Trojan Paris, are a better mans learn to deserve well of Juno, who hands out sceptres, who dispenses gold. Choose what you want of all the riches that dazzle the world, of all the realms that comets seem to control. Whatever you do, in whatever direction your judgement goes, you know that Juno was the choice of Jove. 0 judge of Juno, do not scorn the judgement of Jove.1 "She uttered these proud words acutely aware of her royalty. Her looks also were arrogants not for her the downcast qyes of a suppliant. "Pallas, who had won the right to speak second, now appeared before me. Confidently aware of her own case, she brought her sacred words from her milky breastt

Minerva1s speech 1 The great parent of the Gods — and this I do not deny, the great bride of the Thunderer — and this I do not envy, has filched from me 90 whatever merit I had* As heaven, the earth, and the seas about it are my witnesses I had not believed that Goddesses came armed with the whole armour of words to battles of the tongue* It makes me blush for the loquacious sex; it makes me realize that in this respect I am less proficient than other women. For I have learned another type of fighting* That victory is shameful where the vanquished, who has not babbled so much, goes away with more praise than the victor* It is certainly a type quite unknown to me* ’What was the point of the queen’s impressive speech? Let her be a Goddess, I grant it — no rather let her be the greatest of the Goddesses* We have not come here to this contest to haggle for the sceptres in her mighty hand, or to bring about a redistribution of Jove) Let her keep the things she boasts of* When honours are called for, I have my own, albeit a lesser one. Since I am compelled to sing my praises, let me say that Minerva is not totally devoid of excellence, if beauty, breeding, and that exemplaiy trait, modesty, govern the considerations of the judge* My descent is from Jove; as for my appearance, let him but look at what stands revealed before him* In short, have I not beauty, breeding, refinement? Let other Goddesses boast of the joys of marriage, the bridal gifts and the childrens virginity is my sole delight* It has not suffered anything shameful, it will not pollute the beds of others and it will not put shackles on husbands* Thus, o Paris, do men contemplate my wars, girls my spinning, and laureate poets my songs * thus do I enjoy the company of both sexes, thus am I welcome to all* ’But why am I saying all this? And why should I strain to embellish

the theme even further? It is shameful to one's character and modesty to 91 boast of one1 s own attributes* For he who proclaims his own excellence by that act debases the very claims which he presses* The present case is a struggle between virtue and vice, and so let your judgement fall on Minerva whose silent accomplishments far outstrip her boasting of them. ’When the former world was flushed away into the ocean and its vices were scoured by the avenging flood, honour emerged with the sun* Soon the other virtues, which had long suffered outrage and banishment, returned to the new and better world* Prudence, which never acts hastily, was there, and gentle piety, triumphant patience, brisk simplicity, sober charity, and constancy, which stands firm against all the shifts of fortune* Peace, too, was there, that boon to travellers; and civil concord, protector of men’s property; and truth and justice, which keep a steady course*

’As the sister virtues stood there without a defender, gazing at Deucalion and h is people, they c a lle d fo r someone to lead them* They did not feel safe to go about their duties! fear had not ceased because the Furies had been banished to hell* 'At length the great forehead of Jupiter trembled violently in the throes of Minerva's birth* The whole of heaven thundered as it rolled in an arc w ider than ever b efo re. The Gods had not known a more b lis s f u l day* Proceeding from the father, the child of this birth, Palla3, the guide and guardian of the virtues, made clear the heavenly way and banished all furies and monsters*

'T h is 1b she whom Juno censured, whom you, o Trojan, see before you* Minerva, mighty in war, whose strong right aim subdued the rebellious giants* Shall 1 remain silent about the things I witnessed? In any case, we all know the story* Enceladus, belching flames, destroyed the 92 thunderbolts which the Cyclopes had made. Hundred-handed Briareus spurned the quivers of Apollo and Diana, and the hundred arrows they had used to such effect on Niobe. Typhoeus got the better of panting Mars and was demanding heaven. Where then was Martial Juno? She could at least have swelled the ranks and stood a little nearer — after all, it was her sceptre that was at stake. coupling with Dis was almost in possession of the celestial bed, when Juno, leaping out at last from under the startled sheets cried out,"Pallas, Pallas, for God's sakeI What's keeping you? I am being thrown outt" I came. She realized then that "this Medusa, this Gorgon of a Goddess" was a mighty one. When I restored heaven, the sceptre and her Penates to her trembling hands, she realized that the "menacing gold" of my armour had more to it than brightness. Let her now be ungrateful, let her now be hostilet it is thanks to me that she reigns, it is thanks to me that she sleeps her carefree sleep at Jove's side. When I came to the help of timid Olympus, then I waB a Goddess, then I received the title of "Warrior Maid". I call upon you, o Gods above, to bear witness to the magnitude of those deeds of daring which brought the sweat from this my head, this my breast' — she pointed to both, lifting her eyes to heaven —' this my modesty and this the terror of my helmet and shield which Juno has castigated. 'Did Jupiter give birth to "horned serpents"? Let the Goddess realize who is the target of her invective, and stop abusing her own husband I The child she gave birth to is Vulcan, mighty Vulcan, and this X do not begrudge her: I am not envious that he goes about his mighty deeds on tip-toe, or that he is a skilful weaver of chain-net.' So she 7 spoke, fixing Venus with a side-long glance. 93

"She went ont '0 subject richly meriting the laughter of poets — she launches out into creative etymology and derives my name from "pale* or “ Pallas". However, she was either badly informed, or her memory has become exceedingly cloudy: the truth is that "Pallas" comes from "polleo" — "I am strong" — and the glory of my name hardly equals the splendour of my lofty achievements. •0 Paris, why do I say cruel things when accounting the truth, and why is there a touch of the extravagant in my claims? Perhaps I have offended the Gods. Well, I have been following the example of others (you heard what Juno said) and error that is forced on one carries pardon with it. But enough of that . . . I have said — and I confess it with sorrow — some arrogant things. Nevertheless they are true. And, furthermore, X do not come seeking the title of most lovely with the idea of earning my living in cheap encounters and vulgar fun and games — just like a whore* (With my beauty, my exquisite features what a man-trap Venus would bef) *0 wickedness, would that the Gods were judging us) Venus goes to war with all mortals, delights them when she vanquishes them, and boasts that the whole world is subservient to her sway. Alas, how seldorn is the g golden axe awarded, how seldom is morality prized) 'Of course the sweet poison, the golden quicksand, the attractive frenzy, the soft and gentle wickedness, the merry disease makes mountains look molehills: thus does Venus manage to sell ruin to the world, thus does she ride forth against everyone, hugging Cupid to her. Setting an example for others to follow, she opens her fruitful loins to Vulcan — and to Mars) 94

'Once she had more restraint and was content to keep to mortalst she had not snared the Gods and added them to her lis t. She had not shattered the lightning's master with her own sweet flashes; Phoebus had not gaped in wonder at fires greater than his own; Neptune did not boil 9 in the middle of the sea; and Bacchus' title "the Free", was no misnomer. 'It is a matter for shamet this foster-child of the sea, this late avenger, actually attacks the Gods. She is claiming back that heaven from which she was thrown with her father, and with his lopped-off pri- . . . Modesty prevents me from going further. Certainly this almighty Venus made a valiant attempt to turn me aside to lechery. She has now abandoned the project. I realized what she was up tot would that the world would get the measure of her also I 'Kow deceptively charming is her approach* the more sophisticated your foe, the more savage is she. Lying with a face that can assume any expression, she breaks those who embrace her cause, and brings them to bitter sorrow. She destroys the treaties between cities, shatters their strongholds, and plunges everything into sudden war. When it comes to killing she goes away; when the battle grows hot she grows cold. (When arms are needed, Pallas is prayed to and Venus is abused.) And oh, the wicked transformations she brings aboutt she inflames the gentle, emasculates the tough, and seizes as her prey the earth to which she comes as prey. Thus it is that both parties to delusion find worthy solace in the other's shame. 'Just as I cannot fix one face to many-shaped , so I cannot give a complete account of ever-changing Venus and her tangled love affairs. It is enough to tip off the unwary so that she does not drag him 95 down unawares* But who would claim he needs a word of warning when the whole world lies before him as a grim example? *0 greatest of the sons of Priam, if my glory- lies in war, wisdom and household crafts, if you have both brothers and sisters who need my different powers, if your citadel needs a defender, and the Palladium provides such a defense, if a virgin deserves the title of beauty, give me your decision; do not in your judgement disregard the destiny of your city** "She fell silent* Vith an expression well suited to her spirited words, she swept off* Her case had been concluded* "Then Venus came forward, riding in a Cyprian chariot. When at last she spoke her words were hardly contritei her eyes flashed allurement and her brows were serene*

Venus1 speech ' Alas, who will take me in after you have done with me, generous Juno, daughter of Saturn? Who will give me a glad welcome, if I wander the world as one hated by the Gods, if I follow my destiny as an outcast of heaven? 0 mortals, you whose good faith pulses tirelessly in a kindly world, and who, I know, are not given to jealousy, consider who is the source of disaster, tumult and danger* It is not Venus, for I am kindly, and gracious, and cruel to no-one* Ever since the day of my birth, I have cherished the race of men, gently consoling their grim hardships, and taking pity on their grave misfortunes* Thus have greatful mortals built public temples in my praise, thus have I earned my incense* 'But alas, these temples and this incense have brought upon me the anger and the hatred of the Gods* They have thrust me out to live among you — and so, please take pity on me. Slandered as I sob by heaven, I appeal 96 to th e e a rth , which has become my home. 0 you m ortals, come to th e defense of your fellow-citizen. *0 flower of young men, my hope, my Paris, I will not challenge, I w ill not attack, the speeches of the Goddesses who have already spoken — for who could carp at, or indeed equal, their measured and holy discourse. But let us set the record straight. You have heard, o excellent young man, the list of their charges, the cardinal points of their pleas, and their moving eloquence. This case, however, was to have been decided solely on the evidence of beauty, the eloquence of loveliness. Your eye was to have been the only judge. What right had they, then, to come bellowing out, aimed with flashy speech? 'If Minerva had been less cruel, and had shown some respect for modesty — for Jove is kindly, and maidens are modest — one might have believed she was both a maiden and the child of Jove. Instead she has won the right to be called "Greatest of the Muses”. This I don't deny her for she is second to none in the inventing of tales. She teaches lying poets their craft — teaches them how to exploit credulous ears, and drag blind b ra in s down a path of frivolities. When with a showy display of charming trifles she tortuously reworks the stories of and Hypsipyle and my various encounters, the cheap tale wins the sacred laurel of wisdom. But if in this contest she was going to use this foul gift of hers for lying she ought at least to have been more discriminating: a most vise maiden — sprung full-grown from the brain of Jove our father — would not by mouthing filth have destroyed her other reputation — that of being a maiden most cold and reserved. 97

'Let her heg glories from the arms she has snatched from heroes: I am content with my own. Let her arrogantly threaten; I am humble and patient. Let her bear off banners dripping with gobbets of decaying flesh: my triumphs are achieved without slaughter. Does she rail against me because I have not struggled against nature? If I was kind to Anchises,

did I betray my sex? If I gave birth to Aeneas, whom did I hurt by this deed? My Cupid lives in the heavens, your Aeneas lives in Troy: is this, then, a sin? Is Venus by this act preparing destruction for the Gods or for mortals? To the one I give men, to the other Gods. Would unmarried Minerva therefore stigmatize the behaviour of Venus who has served the world and heaven in this way? 'Is she to be thanked by men — by men whom she devours in war? Are her demands to be met by girls — whose sex she despises? Is she to be accepted by the serene Gods — whom she calls inert and cowardly? In short, exulting in her weapons, she is equally offensive to evezyone. - ' "But she is a virgin" — though, actually, Aglauros denies this, as does that strange serpent-fellow who was locked away in a basket — However, let me say no more of that . . . 'Furthermore, "she is strong" -- or at least she has a strong face: this is what the water screamed back at her when she looked in it and saw

her swollen cheeks.^ 'Then again, "she is a bonny fighter" — with swords others forged and fought with. Short, however, is the joy, and long the disgrace, when you lie about your might. Glory that is spurious soon loses its sparkle in the vale of perpetual grief. Once upon a time you could have believed what people said: the mighty wars of the Gods were not settled by one 98 hand alone, and the victor's laurel was shared among them all* The conquering ghost of the Gorgon slaughtered, however, has snatched away the honours and glory of "timid" Olympus* That's how Minerva tells her story, and that's how it ought to he believed* believe it, Paris, for it is a story worth believing, a story fit for the history books* the little woman achieved more than Jove, Apollo, and Mars put together* (She calls the last God mine — would that he veref) 'Actually, Juno, I do not begrudge you your descendants3'3'— if, however, Minerva is admitted among them and it is not a disgrace to count 12 her as a relative. Venus, putting her trust in all those many defenders, has at least been able to avoid becoming the mother of serpents — that is, were it not for the opposition of the Pates, and the fact that , Mars' daughter and mine, is coiling her length through the city of the unhappy exile, her husband, Cadmus* With my own eyes I have seen her daughters cruelly slaughtered.' "So saying she bowed her face, v;hich was streaming with tears* Then she angrily burst forth again* 'I blame the Fates for none of the sufferings* the jealousy of the Gods is a fearful thing* Semele had conceived under a kindly star, and, being filled with a God, she was going to give birth to a God. The tenth month was looming up when Juno, assuming the appearance of a stem old woman, came, persuaded, departed. What then? The girl was credulous, simple, ignorant* Jove was dragged in, and that was the end of Semele* Was this Cadmus' reward for his year of wandering, for the belief he held to on the long journey? When his sister had been abducted and he was toiling to bring about the reconciliation of deserted Juno and Jove, she rewarded him with mourning, and attacked his children 99 with flames. Let her rejoice* with such a triumph did the wrinkled Goddess win her glory, her spear a quivering walking-stick. The only part of the old woman that was false was her good faith: Juno had no trouble in pretending the rest. Grey hair comes easily to her temples, and wrinkles come easily to her face. (Actually she had to tone down her senility, not assume it.) Oh if only she would turn up now to this beauty contest in the shape of that old neighbour-woman, her resemblance to an ape would cause gales of laughter I 'Why was so foolish as to want to take Europe from his son-in-law, Jove? She well merited her abduction. An ugly wife and the love of a livelier bed excuse the abductor. 'It is largely her own fault that the wife of Jove is so often a widow. She would have married with favourable omens and a stable union if the first compact had brought along more beauty and less tongue. A wicked, base, and garrulous woman befouls the morals of her lawful lover. 1 "But she is the sister and wife of Jupiter". Well, yes, she did well to contract the two personages into one: her kinship is now her only claim on him. She reigns in splendour, but it is on her father's throne she does so* she shares the rule of heaven, by right of descent, and not of marriage. The old man, whose daughter I am said to be, was once called Golden Saturn. He was the sole heir of creation. Until the rule of his universe was tossed into the gambler's urn, Venus was the equal of Minerva — at least she wasn't an exile. Then when the world fell to the three tyrants Venus advanced into it as joint queen of all three parts: as Juno shared with Jove, so did Venus share with all three — Jove, Neptune and Dis. 100

My power was not limited to the heavens: I also gave solace to the damned In h e ll, and calmed th e raging seas. 'You, o blessed throng of the Goddess of the sea, excuse the crime of your sister, if, indeed, it is a crime to trace one's descent from the sea. And you, o mighty avenger, wide-ruling Thetis, drive out Juno and demand heaven, which is rightfully yours, and the marriage torches that were snatched from you. With his concubine banished, you w ill come and bear children to a Thunderer who is no longer afraid. The Fates are not to be trusted. 13 'Juno will squander riches on the prize for beauty, she will indeed. She would not have come here to buy it, if she was considered lovely at home. Quick as she wa3 to offer a bribe, she was obviously a bad judge of your character, Trojan: he who is renowned for his im partiality is not influenced by gold. That honesty which was so lavish to the victorious bulls, 1L does not sell the award of its poised scales, is not forgetful of ancient justice. 0 fair Paris, will Juno enjoy the prize for beauty, (S' Juno who caused Hesione's groans and the spilling of your grandfather's blood? The Juno, Minerva, you so-called "Warrior Maid", who launched the spears of her Hercules at your citadel. Where then were the battles that you boast of? Where then was the fate which was supposed to protect Troy?^"' Raped has accomplished more than Minerva: he has snatched Juno's bed from her, and the cups from her daughter. Taking thus his soft revenge for the harsh deeds of Juno, this favourite of heaven, this bright flower of Asia, this cherished offspring of kings and Gods, is still mixing drinks for the Olympians. 101

•It is not nor task or glory to weave unsteady verses or to press upon trembling girls their daily task of spinning — it was not against me that Apollo17 and Arachne contested. Minerva has agreed to do this for you, Paris, and so let her do it. The Olympians, I admit it, readily make and carry out the best offers* but what need has a great potentate for riches, realms, and arms when his rule already extends over the greater part of the earth, when the wealth of Phrygia is already his, and his might is the Trojan race? But if the emptiness of the royal bed is to be remedied, if riches and realms mean nothing to a man without a wife, take the gift of Venus, Helen, the pride of Sparta, Helen, the woman whose title Juno covets, the woman whom Minerva would like to be? 'Why waste any more time? Take a closer look at the inner Venus. We are dealing with something that needs to be handled out in the open — see, here are my naked breasts. This is the loveliness that leads in the day, ahead of the sun. 0 handsome Paris, congratulate one who deserves your congratulations and do not as a judge despise one with a loveliness equal to your own.1 "So saying, she flung aside her robes. Her arms bare, her breasts uncovered, she blazed forth triumphantly. The other Goddesses went off in

shame. Venus was v ic to rio u s. "Think well, Trojan avengers, Venus summons the sorrowful* my vision supports this belief. Dreams certainly carry weight and 1 will follow the destiny they revealed. Obey Venus, who will end the tears of the Trojans, and the laughter of the Greeks." BOOK I I I

The Rape o f Helen

The silence of the council wa3 shattered by tumultuous applause.

They chanted paeans1 of praise to Venus — commons, princes, and lords. Some thanked the Fates, others the Gods. In every heart and throat the name of Venus resounded. On all sides fat victims crashed to the ground. The fields, gladly giving to the sacrifice the oxen that ploughed them, fell idle. The cow robbed of her garlanded husband mourned, and groaning begged them to give her bade the children that had been dragged from her. The leading citizens, labouring to produce renowned banquets for the Gods, piled high the thirsty flames with sacrificial victims. The whole of Arabia reeked with incense-burning altars to buy the venal gods. (The little incense box of the poor is enough for the greatest of the Gods, finds favour with our Thunderer. A pure heart is acceptable sacrifice to him, and he grants all prayers if only they are good.) Towering above all the rest, to send its flames leaping to the heights, was the royal bonfire. It was heaped high with piles of flowers, and dazzled the eyes. Far from this altar was the blood which gushes from a grim sacrifices here the King offered what was pleasing to Venus — the honey of , the milk of Meliboeus, the wine of Icarius, and the incense of the frail . Their hair bound with garlands, the daughters of Priam stood as they had been ordered about their holy father 102 103 and poured cups foaming with milk on the bright flames* The king himself then took in his hands Venus' holy bird, the dove, and prayed before the a ltar*

The p rayer o f Priam to Venus "0 Goddess whose might is over men, royal delight of the Gods and their true offspring, daughter of our own Neptune, gracious Venus, if a jar of sea-water — or the nectar of the Gods — or perhaps the ELysiah poppy — can summon you, guide your tender chariot to these gifts and find these honeycombs acceptable* for these pious offerings are no less pleasing to you than those of the slaughtering axe* If we have offered worthy and acceptable s a c r ific e , give way to our prayers and come; l i e down w ith us and drink* Even though the heights of Cythera glow with a hundred offerings of incense, your grove in Idalium contains within its bounds the sweet songs of doves, and the mountain tops of bloom with a thousand flowers, Troy will do better than the incense offerings of Cythera, the doves of Idalium, and the blossoming thyme of Cyprus* "In return for these sacrifices — if indeed they amount to anything — confirm Paris1 dream, and console a desolate house* 0 most worthy Venus, do not forget the promise you gave* "I do not wickedly pray that the man who judged you should plunder the women of Greece* le t it be enough for him to rescue Hesione* Minerva certainly would not oppose, and Junfe indeed would prefer, such an abduction.

"Once the might of Asia flourished, and a Trojan was an object of dread to a Greek — but why rehearse that which is so notorious and so deplorable? The old die is now upside down* 0 Goddess, look back and take pity on your son's countrymenI” 104.

So saying, he poured the golden treasure of Hybla on the flames, and the odour, wafted upon the fragrant smoke, comforted the hungry stars.

The prophecy o f Helenus Wearied by the prayers and the paeans, the sacrificial flames were slowly sinking, when suddenly Helenus burst into a new passion. Receiving 2 the raging God in his flaming breast, he transformed the prophetic frenzy into speech. *0 alas, Trojans, you have not taken stock of the future. Where is our thief going? What ship is that which is returning to plunge Troy into flames? Already it touches the shores go Captains, to stop • • ."

Speaking thus in broken sentences he gravely troubled the less confident; nevertheless he went on roundly accusing — a man thoroughly trusted, the only one capable of doing anything to remedy the situation — of following the commands of Venus, of going off to rape the Spartan women, of hoping for the support of the Gods. "What is this impious hope of yours?" he said. "Does the good faith of the Gods and the might of heaven direct a sinful mission? Would they

assist thieves? All right then, Paris, find yourself other lackeys for your crime. Dream yourself up a new dreamt they learn not how to deceive who cannot themselves be deceived." Troilus did not put up with these words any longer. He was a man of violent temperament, one who thirsted after war and whose advice was

always the sword.

"0 most cowardly of my brothers, go," hes a i d , "you, Helenus, you

who have been cursed with the blindness of the babbling cave, go, I say, and whenever the fancy seizes you to deceive the plebs, pretend i t 1 s Apollot it is a far far different Apollo that we know of. Paris will go. 105

Not even If the old woman of or the Libyan ram or the birds of Chaonla should burble in his path, w ill he turn aside from the way which has been ordained for him. He will go and — despite your objections — he will bring back the wretched Hesione.n The plebs roared their approval — the plebs, who are always quick to follow a lead, and are great at raising trouble they cannot put down* Having no regard for the future, they dare everything, since in the present they fear nothing* "Arms, arms I" filled all their hearts, and frequently there flashed before their mind's eye the Argo, dead Laomedon, and the unavenged shame of their city. They roared out a second time: "How long, how long, o free race of warriors descended from Jove by way of , will we suffer unavenged the fact that the throats of 3 0 many of our old men flowed red with blood, that the necks of so many of our fathers swayed back and forth under the hands of the Greeks? Pitiless Atropos has not ordained that this also fall to our fates — that we be denied an avenger* If Troy has rightly felt the wrath of heaven, the grim feasts of the banqueting table at Mycenae also deserve punishment — and this Apollo 3 has decided* Go, captainsI Venus, and a more certain augur, Apollo, orders this war, and demands that, when the city of those wicked brothers Atreus and Tbyestes, has been utterly destroyed, there shall be a safe return under a Trojan captain. What are you afraid of, warriors, what do you fear? Hercules has put on the shirt of Nessus and has died in the flames — the former cause of fear is no more. Hector, the equal of Hercules, lives. Our very nationality will give us heart* If the first laurels went to the Greeks, it is right to hope that our Gods have returned 106 and that the second will go to the Trojans* You, who are at least famous for your descent, mourn the throats of your slaughtered parents* You, whose tears flow from a more abundant wrong — you armed piety* summons*" Such was the prayer they were making with outstretched arms when Panthus sowed in their sick ears the ancient warnings of the fates* That which his father had wrung from the very sanctuaries of the Gods, he there revealed to them all:

The prophecy of Panthua "Pergamura w ill fall to the Greeks, if Helen enters the city of the

T ro jan s." The captains were convinced, and the plebs changed their cry* Oh, how more readily do men listen to old things than to newt They all agreed that there was more of Apollo in the prophecy Panthus quoted than in the one Helenus himself was delivering. Nevertheless Helenus went on attacking as completely wrong the plans that Priam had for winning back Hesionei he kept urging on them the words of the Gods. Priam listened — and dared to be deceived* He helped the Fates when he rejected what they had to say* "Antenor," he called, "declare to the people fates of another variety — in short, recount the facts* That which has already happened is of necessity a sure things that which is to come is uncertain. What we have now is worse than all gloomy forebodingss

Pergamum is drenched in blood, and is loud with the tears of brides and the lamentations of parents. Tell them also what you saw when you vent to beg for the return of my daughter, that Trojan girl — and all the many things you suffered on the way* Let this take precedence to the story of the babbling shrine, and let truth urge more potent action* Vater that 107 flows, fire that burns, and air that can be breathed will refuse to exist before frenzy will dictate what ought to be done.w Thus spoke Priam, and then Antenor spoke: "And so, o citizens, is the history of our sufferings to be told you once again? Can you have forgotten it, when it is so recent? There is no need for witnesses to support my lament when the kingdom itself speaks of treachery and war* "We saw once a city rich with deserving citizens, and another king upon the throne. Troy had not yet yielded to the Greeks. Has swift oblivion passed by these disasters without a thought, and impatient for its long repose, cut short the tedium of lengthy grief? 0 glorious band of warriors, if it is a joy to the mind to slough off loathsome sorrow, rather do this by charging into battle with armed hand. Fortune must be followed while raw grief pants life into some deed of renown. Nothing magnificent is achieved when you think too long about it: anger slow to act is swamped by fear. "Do you stay rooted to the spot because little temples forbid you? This scruple, I am sure, drives the Gods to harass the silent recesses of eternity and to hold poised the changing flux of events. The Fates stand fixed in their own determined course: if they have appointed inevitable ruin for the wretched Trojans, well let us meet death in battle. If, on the other hand, they have ordained triumph, a sluggish victory will diminish our glory. "0 you gullible people, if it is not sacrilegious to reveal the truth, I have disclosed the trickery of the Gods. Greek Apollo has been meddling with our birds, and the fearful things he threatens to the Trojans, he himself fears for his Greeks. Thus does he speak lies and 108 attempt to head off the Trojans, who stand ready and armed for war*

"Against these warnings of Apollo consider the facts — surely they carry more weight than idle whole realm of future possibilities* Hercules has put on the shirt of fire that was given him; Peleus and Telamon have grown old; and that boy or girl, Achilles, whom the Fates are threatening us with, is to be feared by no-one* I myself, my fellow w arrio r3 , have seen their soldiers and their walls, X have seen their cities; and there is nothing there, I tell you, to make your blood run cold. Go forth then, strong in your might, fit their necks to the yoke, and, spuming a triumphal procession, sheath your victorious swords in the bodies of your prophetic foes*" Courage flared up in the warriors; all religious dread was banished far off* Helenus withdrew, flung off the threatening fillets, and with flowing tears rebuked the Fates.

Paris sets out on the mission to abduct Helen “Ifce shepherd, Paris, was chosen as the leader of the expedition — once a stranger to the realm, now he was the king's heir* The city had gained no advantage from having passed sentence of death on the fatal brand, after Hecuba had been frightened by her nightmare vision of the torchs the flame long ago dreamed of sprouted high and the predictions were carried out in full* And thus at the bidding of Fate the Trojan went to abduct the Greek woman. So as to subdue the Greeks in his own charming way, he concealed his felonious intentions! he wore no spears, no suspicious arrows* His numerous fleet was equipped as for a pleasure-cruise. His own ship had an olive-branch at its prow* (The pine-wood from which this ship had been 109 built, had grown on Mt. Ida in the midst of castrated Gallus1 frenzy, and Cybele had le t it go.^ It marvelled now to hear similar voices raging on the beach — but this was only the waves.) The ship was ornamented with that splendour which a more advanced skill achieves only after long to ll. The woodwork blazed with the magnificent figures that had been painted on it. The prow was adorned with lordly purple, and the stem with golds the yard-arm was made of ivory. The cypress mast sprinkled its perfume into the thwarts. The winds vied with one another to spread the sails which billowed out into the shape of purple breastss an image of Venus drew the gently-wafting Zephyrs to the ship. And now the appointed day was at hand. The fleet called to be launched onto the deep waters, and a picked band of warriors — Paris their captain, chosen by lot — came prancing over the beach. Such was the ardour of those embarking that they roared out against each other, and made the heavens resound with every type of din. No time was wasted. Hector marched up with an armed detachment of Nabathaeans and ordered them to accompany his brother across the seas. Then followed the Paeonians under Deiphobus' command, and they also sw iftly embarked. Then the very hope of Venus, Aeneas, son of Anchises, with Polydam as his second in command joined forces with the rest. The fleet, set moving by the straining shoulders and arms, was already scooping the shattered Band into the open sea, when Cassandra, shouting from the abandoned shrines, revealed the Fates and dismayed the Trojans. However, the savage distaff of Lachesis drove on those who delayed, smashed the tenacious anchors and lashed the sails with a shrieking blast o f wind. 110

L ast o f them a l l , P a ris , th e death-bringing p ir a te , made h is way to the joint fleet. Long and in vain Priam had asked him not to do anything rash ly . "Let him humbly e n tre a t th e v ic to rio u s enemy; l e t him go away content with Hesione; but if they persisted in refusing to return the stolen bride, le t him threaten them with war." Thus he instructed Paris as he set out, promising him that the Trojans would come to help him if they received th e word. Cythera had just come into Paris* view, when Menelans, who happened to be voyaging across his ancestral waters to visit Nestor, caught sight of the ships from the Simolst he wondered who they could be, where they were going and where they had come from. The two princes marvelled as they gazed at each other's sails. See with what certainty the Fates contrive the crises in men's lives! The enemy was a t hand, Menelans was away: and Hermione, taking w ith h er Castor and Pollux as guides had set out for the city of Agamemnon, there to visit her aunt, Clytemnestra. The peasantry also had come trooping in to Argos to celebrate the festival of Junoi the sea was empty and the fields had been scoured of men. And so chance, which has such power, had prepared fo r a l l th a t would come, and Venus was trium phant. At the nethermost tip of Greece is a rock-girt island, sacred to this Goddess. The bottommost part is well-protected from the elements, and has been scythed out by the sea into a retreating arc. This sheltered spot looked like a good place to the Trojans, and so they beached their ships here. The captain watered the nearby altars of Diana with sacrificial blood, and piled high the bountiful offerings of the axe. And so the report hurtled headlong through all the cities of Cythera that Paris the son of Priam had comet from all sides the plebs flocked I l l to the harbour to meet him. The lovely lady of Sparta directed her steps to the shore to see these strangers* a n d vas brought down to Helaea, a city which nestles on the coast. When the presence of Helen vas made known to Paris he deserted the fleet. Confident of his beauty and fully aware of the handsomeness of his face* he followed Helen here and there* wherever she went* tirelessly dogging her steps. He flung her eager glances* and fed the mutual flame. In a short time he had enthralled her and won her love. His movements were poised and relaxed* and this added to his beauty. His shoulders were large* he held his head erect, and his steps were light upon the sand. He fixed on Helen his marvelling gaze* and* forgetting that he vas walking* stood rooted to the spot. Then the next moment, fearing that he would be thought her captive, he turned his quick gaze on other things as if he marvelled at all he looked at. With more control she half-smiled* and gave him a sidelong glancei she would have liked to display her entire face and her naked breast* but her modesty reproved her and held in check this full-blown excess. A confused dread battered her sick heart. Paris realized this* and the mighty maker of promises burned and grew daring. Love easily interprets these little pointers to plunderi the signs are favourable* the revealing nod errs* and that more immediate betrayer of a wandering heart* the pandering eye, babbles the preludes to a silent vow. When Helen had feasted herself on the revealed loveliness of foreign gold and had gazed at the sails which were purple all over* she was all the more determined on her courses she was ready to offer her hand when 112

It was asked for, and wanted to be forced. However, the great throng of attendants that packed about her, begrudged Paris the chance of asking* 0 illustrious thief, do not be inpatient. Your hand is golden and w ill win her for you. Your wealth has more power than your tongue: there is no need for a second Cicero when riches are making their plea. Even fortune itself smiles on your piracys there is no Spartan gold in the city of Helaea and so it readily lends its support to your undertaking. When it is stormy, the sea is driven into this city by the towering waves. It thrusts its waters among the houses nearest to the beach and cuts them off from the rest. Here the ancient faith of the people had built twin altars to Apollo and Diana. Helen gave orders that they should here gladden the coming night with a holy vigil. She herself was the first to go up into the high temple, and here she invoked the Gods, worshipping them as they were wont to be worshipped. All this was reported to the lusting Trojan, and Venus sanctioned his rash plans. In accordance with her great promise she granted him a successful start to his marriage. There was no beating about the bush: triumphantly he made up his mind to seise the wife of Menelans, and to plunder the unoffending altars. So great was the lust battering his violent heart, that he could scarcely wait for darkness. He believed that the jealous sun held back the night in envy of his luck.

Thg gflPV P.f Phoebus had shattered the western waves with his dying rays, and in the middle of the sea the sailors were calling for the light of the stars. Now that the God had once again completed his course, the earth, the sea and the lofty sky were put to sleep. Their noise done, silence 113 reigned supreme. Everywhere rest nodded off into gentle slumber. But Paris, under the cover of darkness, was in his impatience even more bold to disturb the peace of the Gods: Venus was his guide. First he hastened under arms to where the defenseless women were dancing their peaceful dances. Savagely he threw the festive temples into confusion. Nothing deterred him — not Menelaus1 vedding-rights, not the sanctity of a married woman, not the courtesy his hosts had showed him, not tire grim watching presence of Jove, the avenger of evil. Venus, who knows no lim its, rashly spumed everything, and with a brute disregard for propriety rushed to fulfil her outrageous promise. And so Paris raped — or rather was raped by — Helen, who held out her hands and shrieked — with a look of joy upon her face. Bejoice, o thief, in your trophies, and acknowledge the help of the Gods. Having endured many hardships, you go away better by your nation* s destruction, and bear back to your father firebrands not of his own seeking. Alas, o ruined soul, you do not know what disasters, what ghastly alarums, you are carrying back in your runaway fleet. And you, o daughter of Leda, more venomous than the marsh Hercules emptied,^ more destructive than the fire breathed on Bellerophon, more unreliable than fair weather, are you abandoning the bed of your marriage? Time and time again, endlessly, will you be sought by the husband you spurned, you run-away (I call you this, for you never were abducted). Now o Bcylla and Charybdis of 's straits, o Syrtes off the coast of Africa, and all that rages savagely over the vide expanse of the sea, join forces and converge on this spot, infest these waters, and let mid-ocean melt their first embraces with an avenging storm. You could 114 prevent them from causing much harm, if you would fly here to stop this forbidden audacity. After the stillness had been shattered, and the innocent silence of the night, battered by the piteous din, had absorbed the cries of confusion, the citizens seized aims and made for the twin oracles* They were guided by the uproar and the shouting. Here they saw broken and jangling lyres, here they saw trampled- upon goblets and spilt wine, guttering tapers and torches which were being wept for in the shattered glass. Wondering what disaster had silenced the worship which a short time ago had pealed out so joyously, what unexpected cause had ended the pious din, they observed that there were further uproars at the beach and that the whole sea was re-echoing with* "Oh where are you going, you faithless seducer, you despiser of hospitality? Is this how you repay courtesy, you plunderer of the royal bed?" The noble plebs were aroused by these words, and clattered their aims* Gathering with them those who were milling about on the beach, they attacked the Trojans* The foreigners, however, did not pause in their task of spreading the sails and getting ready to run. They did not deign to join battle, despising the pitiful fight put up by the plebs. Only the thought of glory tempted them to cast their vain hands on prisoners* Grabbing hold of joan or maid, each got himself a trophy to boast with.

The re tu rn o f P a ris And so Paris returned, having won slips from the myrtle garland of

Venus with which to bind his victorious locks* When they gained Tenedos the thief consoled the Spartan, who was now filled with less daring and was at last beginning to remember her homeland. The expert adulterer 115 cemented the fickle favours of the whore with promises, and soothed her feigned fears* He heaped on her the ivory of India, the incense of Arabia, gold from the rivers of Midas,^ bolts of silk from China, and the riches of a wider world beyond these places — in short all that the sparkling air, the lovely sea, or the fertile land produces* These things bought him a compliant bed, tamed her rebellious embraces and fixed her loyalty. No longer did she reject his kisses saying she ought not to return than; but pressing both breasts against him, she stroked him and k isse d him and aroused him to a fren zy o f hidden lu st* Then when Venus expired, the conspiring purple garments bore witness to the secret dew* 0 wickedness! Were you able, you worst of women, to hold back in the face of such passionate entreaties? Vas pleasure waiting for a buyer? 0 amazing power of the tender sex) A woman can make violent lust wait on

gain, and does not deign to give way to joy unless her laughter has been p aid fo rt The sto ry of H elen's abduction made the Trojans m eny when they heard it* The features of Priam cleared and grew joyful* grief, the

unhappy sickness of his soul, felt the furrows grow fewer* The cruel winter in his heart abated a little* he looked into the future and hoped that Hesione would be returned, if he restored Helen to the Creeks* Paris had veered away from the harbour and had not yet reached the shores of the Sigeum* A procession set out to meet him, proclaiming the lie that he had won a triumph* Some, riding high in lordly chariots, skinned lightly through the air, others trudged humbly along (they were content with the service of their feet and had no fear of a fall)* 116

The plebs, ever eager for some new thing, ran breathlessly along to see the young princess from Greece, They scorned their work, and forgot profit and the skills that fed them, as they gazed at the lovely plunder. And those whose short build had begrudged them lofty shoulders and lordly necks, either gawked down from high roof-tops or wearied their joints by standing tiptoe — suspending, as it were, their lowly stance on high. The reputation of Helens notorious beauty had made these people try to outdo each other in gazing enraptured at her. She walked on, holding her head modestly and looking neither to left nor right as the spectators cheered her. She was not a coy person, and yet her fair cheeks were suffused with

blushes. i

The prophecy o f Cassandra The royal prophetess, Cassandra, when she heard by a reliable report th a t P a ris had come, and had brought w ith him the p o rten t of doom, the Spartan woman, ran away to seek the prophetic tripods, and pressed the laurel's eloquent branch to her lips. Calling not long in vain on the 2 God, she returned filled with the fate3. The revenge of the God she had forced into her, glistened on her prophetic face, and a frenzied power battered her gentle limbs. Her neck spun round, her hair spilled over her shoulders, her eyes scattered fire. Her face started to change! now it was bluer than glass, now redder than fire, now whiter than box-wood. Thus she advanced into the midst of those many thousands of nobles, raging with her mouth, and planting her uncertain steps like a drunken woman. Catching sight of Helen she cried: "ire you then the heifer who has entered new pastures, who is said to have abandoned in shameful flight the 117 kraal of her fathers and her wedded bull, and who Is insolently looking for a mate among us? Go, warriors, the God orders. Got and throw this torch my mother dreamed of into the sea or on the fire, lest the hideous disaster which I have prophesied, follows." After this brief lamentation she fell silent; long sighs set free the God whom she had finished with. The merry hearts of the Trojans faltered at these words, and the din of cheering fell silent. The ranks would have followed the command of the prophetess, but respect for the king stifled the anger that had been aroused, and Cassandra was cast into

shameful chains. The king soothed Helen and charmingly consoled her as she sighed over the unexpected insults. He excused the panting fren^r of the prophetess, her voice swift to rage, and the commotion she often gave - vent to, saying it was the result of broin-sickness. No time was wasted. The palace, adorned at the king's command, made

merry with courtly glee, and adulterousH y m e n lifted high the shameful torches. It would have been better if a great pall of darkness had enshrouded this filthy piece of work. What good does it do to trick out abomination with a holy name? Dry rot, working in secret, covers itself with gold leaf, the wolf covers itself with the fleece of the lamb, the running sore covers itself with fine linen; but no amount of deception can hide infamy* a woman cannot be the wife of two husbands, for as long as the first marriage stands, she is not the wife of the second, but merely

bedroom spoils. 113

The preparations of the Greeks for war Grief spread like wildfire throughout the Greek world, and shook with the call to arms the lands dowered with the name of Europa. They were all of them, all the Greeks, offended like one man, either because the injury done to the princes was an outrage to the people — or because they envied the Trojan empire and were eager to fight it — or because they all worked out in their rage anger for the grim fate that could have befallen any one of thems each bewailed the event which he himself could have suffered and wept for. And so they all had one mind about the affair — they would make Impossible a repetition of such a crime, they would sanctify the bedroom with dread. The people moved swiftly without waiting for orders. A lust for war vas bom in the passive, and vas increased in the brave. Thus did the people, of their own choosing, take the initiative in preparing for battle. And so there went to console the bereaved household a famous succession of captains* warriors from Cepe Malea, and from Larissa, and all the rest of Greece. Must I give a tally of the avenging Greek powers, and, faithfully narrating their uneventful crossings, follow them in fixed order? Must I te ll what were the places they came from, who were the kings, how many were the seas each wearied with his ships? Famous muses, I know, have been robbed of their glory by this section, and have given offence to gentle ears. S till, I would like briefly, and without boring my audience, to give a few details, and to stamp with the seal of number the ships which were bound by oath. One thousand, two hundred and two ships came from every part of the realm, bringing war, and these assembled in the 7 bay of Athens oh Apollo1 s sea. To this place came the soldiers, to this 119

place came the arms: from here, it had been ordained, the fleet large with war would begin Its voyage. Thus had the supreme command ordered, thus had the war council decided. When the deeds of the Trojans were bruited to Castor and Pollux, the Spartan twins, they both groaned: grief aroused, anger shook them

both. Even 3 0 do angry lions mourn their plundered lairs, even so does the bird of Jupiter, the eagle, bewail the unexpected silence of its speechless nest. There was no delay. They boarded th e ir ship, and sa ile d by way of Lesbos. Their violent passion, their fresh rage, did not contemplate any cold-blooded enterprise. Without waiting for any support they tore across the sea, thinking only of their sister. Castor kept to the deep, and the ship with destruction in its belly was just on the point of touching the shores of Troy. But black night intervened to defend the Trojans. The anger of the armed sky bellowed against the Spartan twins and battered their sails with the double scourge of wind and rain. 0 piety, virtue closest to the heart of God! 0 gentle splendour of brotherly love! The only discord ever to enter their twin hearts was the present difference in their fears: Castor feared the death of Pollux, and Pollux feared the death of Castor. Whenever the sea came flooding in, and the ship, about to founder, scooped the abyss onto its side, they tried to outdo each other in bending their heads to receive the onrush of the waters. Each cried out: "On me, o grim Thetis, on me, savage Triton, hurl your threatening ocean, on me heap this mighty swirling sea. Save my brother, spare him, I pray!" 120

At length, when the south wind grew stronger and fell on them more fiercely, so that there was now no longer any hope at all for the ship, the two sons of Leda, throwing their arms about each other1 s necks, gave over to simultaneous death the bodies which had been born together. Cease, o dreary license of pagan Athens, from spawning illic it godsl not myth, but unfeigned virtue, will give these heroic twins their immortality. Blind fury from on high plunged them into the depths, but you, o Athenian license, lift them up into highest heaven and order them to be like Jove. The lightning scattered them to the winds, and the waves scattered them to the rocks, but you lie and say they have gained the stars: thus do you fradulently rob the incense boxes of the Pagans. The story you have concocted gives Heaven to these twin sons of Tyndareus, whom the storm drowned. You have turned the fall of Castor into the rise of Pollux and have redeemed the loss of one with the death g of the other. But deadly Atropos, bearing witness to the fact that neither was a god, filing her noose around them both, the noose with which she makes the sick equal with the strong, the guilty equal with the innocent, and the pauper equal with the king. The men of Lesbos alone denied that these two loving sons of Leda had gone to their deaths. They went in search of them, and, finding them neither among the Trojans nor in the midst of the waves, they believed that they were Gods. Returning with their fruitless love, they gave cities more gods, altars more incense, and temples further supplies of marble. Even such is the ridiculous trust of the Bretons. In credulouB error they are waiting for Arthur — and will go on waiting 9 fo r ever. BOOK IV

A Catalogue of the Princes

Rumour, crying war, bruited the mobilization of the Greeks throughout the cities of Asia, and the barbarians were gravely alarmed by this threatening development. Risen Mars aroused them all on the side of Priam, and they pledged their affrighted power to war.

Amphius, of the city of Zelia, was the first to lend the support of his country's arms to the Trojans: his eager comrades were , the archer, the swordsman, Adrastus. Hospitable Colophon fitted out as he made ready to go, w hile , w ith Sarpendon a t h is side, led his native Lycia to war. I&nthippus marched off with his warlike , Metnnon with his Moors, Fhorcys with his Paeonians, Remus with his Ciconians. Eupheraus and Cupesus, and others whose names it would be tedious to lis t, competed in cramming their ranks, and outdid each other in number or in worth.

The Ganges sent the Arabs, the Orontes bestowed the Syrians, and from the Don came the Scythians. (This latter river, flowing between Europe and Asia, divided the two in war, and gave to each a commander-in-chief.) There swarmed to th e fig h tin g a l l th e people o f the dawn, th e e a s t, the resting-place of Phoebus: all whom the vide expanse of Asia, the waters of the Hermus and the ridges of the Taurus enclosed. All this mighty army was on the march to defend the household gods of Troy.

121 122

Amid all this tumult, and the towering strength of emulous kings, mighty Troy began more boastfully to arm her pugnacious sons* Native prowess and cognate arms soared up above the rest, and no foreigner could hope for pre-eminence* Troilus, the champion of the entire army, and Hector of the flashing helmet, his equal in the rush of battle, his equal in hitting the ranks like a hurricane, worked hard to outdo each other in glory* Fickle fame favoured now one, now the other* As for the rest of the mighty band of warlike brothers, each man was his own captain and blazed a meteoavtrail with his own acts of daring. So much so that men swore that all the sons of Priam were Hectors and all the Trojans were equal to Troilus in war*

A catalogue of the princes 0 that 1 might now call to mind the shining spirit and radiant presence of each, the limbs to which glory was assigned and those whose movement made h e a rts b eat f a s te r . 0 th a t the power o f my eloquence might bring back faces that have been snatched from us, and that kings who have been hid from our eyes might, when proclaimed by my words, live in men* s hearts* As wordless paintings present warriors long buried to an admiring people, so let my well-ordered verse proclaim these captains. The one art charms the eye, the other charms the ear*

FiAag Priam was ruddy, and his head sat high on his ta ll, broad shoulders*

His towering limbs proclaimed him a hero* His face was majestic and awe­ inspiring, but not at all tyrannical* His voice, the spokesman of an 123 equable mind, made no grim or bombastic sound. He gave commands gently, like one making a request. Hector High-spirited Hector was of medium stature. His hair caught the light in its curls and fitted his head tightly like a cap. He had an impediment in his speech and lisped agreeably when he spoke. He was swift in his movements, and gracious towards the citizens. His light beard gave him a serene appearance. His cross eyes, however, dipped his sight in two directions, and this constant squint marred his steadfast face with a downcast look.

Heienus and Deiphobus These twin sons of Priam looked alike and had their father's eyes and face. Their enthusiasms, however, were different. One pursued the arts of peace, the other the arts of war; one haunted the high mountain- tops, the other wore out weapons. Mars was the joy of Deiphobus, while Helenus delighted in Apollo.

Troilus was growing apace. In spirit he was a giant, but in age he was a boy. He was second to none in venturing upon brave deeds. Since it was blended with manly vigour, a more pleasing handsomeness graced his noble face.

P aris Paris was eager for authority. He had broad and nimble shoulders. His eyes shone like stars and his face was serene. His voice was pleasant. He was swift-footed, end a strenuous fighter. His hair was golden, and to increase his lofty forehead he had shaved this hair high 124 back on his temples. Lest straying wisps should detract from his beauty, his locks on both sides were pinned behind his ears*

AWflP Aeneas' hair glowed with the menace of red, but his looks were peaceful and his speech serene. He was easy of address, and his eyes were dark and handsome. He was pious in his deliberations* and he stood four-square. His shoulders were broad. His perspicuity was impressive.

Antenor Antenor was tall and slender. He was finely-boned and swift-footed. None of the Trojans was quicker than he at detecting trickery, or more active at contriving it.

Hecuba A royal comeliness set Hecuba aglow, a high magnificence gilded her. Her beauty had not been exhausted by her frequent confinements, and did not know the wrinkles and the withering that generally go with fecundity. Her head ruled her and allowed her no softness or weakness. She was severe with the cruel, and gracious to the kindly. She was not a harsh person: she had compassion for the distressed and showed justice to the citizens.

And-romanhe

Beauty, moderation, piety, sensibility, and modesty — all these graced

Andromache in abundance. She held h er shoulders high, and her looks were seren

Cassandra Cassandra was of moderate stature and not blind to the future. Her face was round. Her ominous red hair looked like blood. Her eyes blazed and flashed. 125

Polvxena Polyxena triumphantly outshone the whole Trojan nation with her looks* The milky straightness of her limbs gave her a loveliness all her own — as did the charm of her smiling eyes, her small feet, her tall and lovely knees, and the fine way she held herself when she walked. Ivory was no match for her limbs, or lilies for her stately neck, or the feathers of a peacock for her auburn hair. She herself was humble, ingenious, good-natured. She never played the bombastic lady, never practised deception, and never turned away those who came with requests.

Agamemnon

A martial splendour crowned Agamemnon. His ta ll and massive limbs made solemn promise of strength; power radiated from him, heralded by his face; and his appearance under arms proclaimed him a king. Beauty and strength, nobility and riches, eloquence and prudence — all these, and his flowing white locks, adorned Agamemnon.

Menelaus Menel&us was o f medium h eig h t and very handsome* His mind c o n tro lled the poison which generally goes with red hairt he proved by his deeds that the evidence of his hair was false. He was popular among his friends and always grateful to those who did him service.

A ch illes Achilles was dashing, generous, merry and pious. He was as handsome as Apollo, as.pplrited as Mars, and as big as Peleus. He was tall and broad-chested. His hair was chestnut-brown in colour and fell in tight curls onto his shoulders. He lifted his knees high when he walked. 126

P a tro d u s Patroclus' eyes were young and keen, and his body was handsome. He was of easy address* He was always anxious to be open-handed and constant, and to do his best for every-one.

Alax. son of Oileus He was affable and given to earthy humour* He was high-spirited,

and his limbs were massive* ill his various attributes enhanced the glory of Ajax of the Locriana.

AJax. son o f Telamon Black hair, held tightly in place by a band, graced Ajax, son of Telamon* His voice was melodious and clear* His mind was d u ll when i t came to deceit, but was very active in battle*

E ra s e s His face was merry, and he was inclined to shortness* He was prudent in weighing advice, skilled at hiding his trickery, and a master at captivating men with his eloquence*

Dlomedes His voice was fierce, his temper violent* His brains boiled and his rage was daring; his limbs were massive and he stood four-square. His mighty deeds made him the worthy son of his father, Tydeus — such were the

lightning bolts leaping from his spirit, his savage voice, and his aims*

Nestor Nestor was honoured for his wisdom, his honesty (that powerful watch­ dog of wisdom) and for his sober ambition to be generous* The old man had 127

broad shoulders and gleaming white hair: he was not so well pleased with his short, squat, and beaky nose* Protean aus Protesilaus, the son of Iphiclus, had green eyes and gleaming blond hair. He was swifter than a bird and more scorching than a Scythian wind. He feared no difficulty, his spirit ever outdistanced his capacities. He thought of nothing as serious or important, and left nothing undared. Pvrrhus His face proclaimed him a warrior, and above his angry neck were his threatening eyes. His pride was overbearing and he looked askance at his comrades. His towering limbs proclaimed his ferocity. His eyes were round 2 and his belly protruded. He had an impediment in his speech, and s tu tte re d when he spoke. Palamedes Palamedes, the son of Nauplius, was tall and slender, gentle and courageous. Prudence and integrity governed all his doings. £g

Brjp.ejja was of medium height* Her face was so beautiful that all who saw her loved her* Her long golden hair was plaited into coils of equal length* Above her eyes were the linked bows of her eyebrows, those delights of lesser shade* The riches of her beauty were rivalled only by the excellence of her character — sober simplicity, courteous modesty, never-failing compassion, and a kindly and gentle manner of speech*

Castor and Pollux "Two* was not the word to apply to the twin sons of Tyndareusx the one and the same handsomeness of feature girded them both, the same golden hair flared out on each, their merry eyes had the same keen vision, they were the same height, their hearts beat in harmony — in short, in appearance and in character they were as one* Their names alone presumed to distinguish between their equal beauty. But victorious error, with avenging face, outsmarted men and caused them to doubt; hating the distinction made by breath it confused the one name with the other* Helen Helen resembled her brothers and sisters in looks, in hair, in eyes*

Her face, like theirs equally lovely, bore witness to their conmion descent* But Helen had drunk more fully of starry Jove, and through all her limbs there breathed the milk-white lies of the swan that had deceived her mother* 129

That spring was the source of the brightness with which she had been born. Her tresses, neatly ordered on her head, were golden. Her bright cheeks were like box-wood, her hands like snow, her teeth like lilies, and her neck like flowering privet. Her ears, which curled delicately into incomplete circles, her eyes, which kept steady watch, her nose, attuned to fleeting odours, alternately demanded the prise with their rival claims* Her chin, which protruded slightly, gleamed white. Her lips bunched delicately in a rosy pout, so that rich kisses, when pressed against them, might rest there more gently. She was ta ll and broad-shouldered. She held herself in and did not flaunt her breasts. Her flanks were light and slender, her arms long. Her feet were small, and she lightly skimmed the ground as she went her carefree way: her swift and graceful limbs lent an elegant poise to her body. 1 single mole, splashing boldly between them, divided her eyebrows into two slender arches. Her inner nature more secretly adorned her no less distinguished interior, tricked out the body's vital chambers, and set in order the city inside her skin. The heart was the prime mover of this work and set it going. The loquacious lungs regulated the melodious utterances of her tongue; the spleen controlled the laughter that came from the slightly parted lips; the smaller gall-bladder blazed with ready anger. But the 3 itching of her tender liver tickled too voluptuously and destroyed the honours of the reputation she had won, befouling the glories of her natural love. This curse no ravenous bird, no backward-rolling rock, no spinning wheel, no elusive water could have overcome.^ When lust had been shattered and was cooling, when lust had been smothered and was dying, the old fires flared up again in the glutted entrails. Thus this one organ of Helen 130 ruined the whole of her, brought about the clash of kingdoms, and roused the whole world to disaster*

And now the combined Greek fleet was riding in Athens' harbour* There was no room on the land for all the warriors, no room in the air for the sail8, no room on the sea for the ships, when at last the array demanded its appointed voyage, demanded to taste the paths that had been ordained for it. Achilles and Patroclus, however, had been sent to consult the oracle at Delphi* They were examining the replies of Apollo

so as to discover the secrets of the fates. Oh, amazing faith! They whom passion dragged headlong into battle and who chafed at every delay, gladly idled their time away in peaceful prayer and calmly sought the oracles* Grief put aside its pitiful sighs, glory its laurels, anger its threats, the army stayed rooted to the spot, its wars suspended, and Mars himself waited on the permission of that loquacious cave* 0 how the credulous blindness of pagan superstition was deluded in many ways! Should 1 lament the idols of the Egyptians with laughter, or tears, or a mixture of both? In Egypt they worshipped crops, trees, vegetables, serpents that crept, and birds that flew* More in error however, were those answers and that wind of Delphi, which wretched souls used to call on, and which because of its glorious reputation they wrongly thought was God* (He whom His universe proclaims as its creator does not bellow in a cave*) 131

The pernicious stupidity of the ancients has come seeping down to our own age and has polluted our faith. For just as fortune-tellers in Spain classify the birds of their country by song, or flight, or taste, considering these as omens of th in g s to come, so do presag efu l old women elsewhere hate to dream of smiling and fear a gaping and toothless mouth. (They can also foretell the arrival or departure of guests by the prophetic chattering of their magpies or the Itching of their earst) Subsequent Fortune indeed procures many of the things we have long desired, and the Enemy, who lies ever in wait, thus deceives the dangerously credulous heart into slipping more readily into this fatuous practice of fortune-telling. It would have been better not to have known of prophecy, and for the rites of the ancients to have been buried and forgotten. In this way, the pure heart would not have lapsed down this easy descent. Observing the due and ordered ritual in every particular, the two Greeks prayed to the oracle at Delphi. First Achilles encircled the altars with lictors, and then Apollo, who is ever up for sale, was bought by these ritual gifts, and revealed his words* "You will conquer, avenging Greeks. But your mighty undertaking will drag through ten years of war; victory will follow the fighting of the tenth year." Achilles was stirred by this prophecy and shared the secret of the oracle with all his comrades. Calchas, the son of Thestor, stepped to meet them in the middle of the cave and told then the Gods had given him a reply in harmony with their own. He had come to Delphi on behalf of his fatherland and his own realm, and the same divine power had poured out this advice from the same sanctuary* "You do not seek in vain, o prophet most pleasing to the Gods. Milder weather will be given to your 132

country, and Sirius, the ravager of your meagre season, will set, and the fields will grow fat with abundant crops* Away with delay! War summons you* Make for Athens, set your avenging battle-lines in order* The thronging w arrio rs w ill prove your in f e r io r in fig h tin g , Mopsus your inferior in prophecy, and Nestor your inferior in counsel* A victory which will come late, and which w ill need to be bought with the savage deaths of heroes, will give to the Greeks a hundred years of prosperity." And so happily, and as equals, Achilles and Calchas joined hands in a compact of alliance* Each had the lofty respect of the people, each held an equal degree of high sovereignty* but the love of war breathed stronger in Achilles, while the more peaceful Calchas was content to d isentangle the 3 ecrets o f the Gods in e n tr a ils , and to know the movement of the stars* Fledged faith united the three* a third love had enriched the original compact between Achilles and Patroclus* Patroclus did not begrudge sharing his friend, and happier now that Calchas was their comrade, he steered his swift ship back across the sea* When the secret of the oracle was divulged to the camp, the city and the fleet, the Greeks realized that they had an unmistakable sign* The thought of battle delighted them all* all considered it now a fine thing to conquer, and were impatient to taste the delights of war* The knights equipped the fleet with armour, the sailors equipped it with rigging, and the citizens with supplies* A few, whom a feeble-fluttering heart, a peasant-like mind or a supine spirit commanded not to taste of victory and plunged in the darkness that belongs to those who refuse their destiny, 133 either shrunk from the battle-line, or, measuring out the long cost of the ten-year war, condemned a victory that came so slow* (None, they reasoned, could escape battle and the many shapes of death! the glory of th e few would be bought w ith the blood o f th e many*) Even th ese men, however, were moved by their fear for the kings, and were caught up in the hysteria of those about them. And so a false front of courage masked even the sluggish souls* A threatening roar went skimming across the sea to greet the enterprise* No time was wasted* They swooped down on the fleet* Some, w ith rig h t hands reaching down, spread out the s a ils ; o th ers wearied themselves as they thrust their necks against the ships to carry them down to the waves* S till others erected oaken gangplanks to the thwarts; while some attended to the fastenings of the toothy anchors and released the ships* Then suddenly, when they were leaving the harbour, the south wind, the storm-clouds' steward, threw them into confusion with an unexpected squall* Darkness, drunk from its draughts of storm-water, rolled arms and men and ships together in the drenching gloom, and caused even the captains themselves to wonder and be afraid. The fleet straggled blindly on the water! the storm which had been hurled in their path denied them the usual passage from the harbour. The flapping sails lashed the middle of the ships over and over again* As soon as Calchas from his prow saw the surging waters, and the captains battling in vain, he called on them with his prophetic mouth to follow the will of the Gods, and since the south winds were unwilling to yield, to go to Aulis and make that their port of departure* 1 3 4

The Greeks gave In to the will of Aeolus, the god of winds, and obeyed the prophet. They turned their ships aside and made back for Aulis. They prayed long and earnestly at the altars of mountain-wandering 5 Diana, and tried to make their peace with her. With abundant gifts of incense they begged her to grant them a safe crossing. Immediately the angry bow of thirsty Iris splashed its blue radiance on the world and established fair weather. The heavens smiled again. The lower air was cleansed and won back a kindly sky. With a merry face it consoled the weeping clouds. The cruel south blasts were banished, and a gentle whispering wind now led on the fleet. The sails sedulously sought out the stronger currents of air. And so, running before breezes made moderate by the command of the Gods, the mighty band of ships descended like a flock of locusts on the gulf of . The startled sea came to a standstill under the sterns. With tangled oars the sailors raced to get first place, and the ships clashed together with interlocking blows. Thus did Mt. Athos, cut in two by Xerxes, marvel at the double shade of masts and trees, and bury the unfamiliar sea in sails; thus did the woods, following the lyre of Orpheus mighty in song, enfold the Thracian fields in their long embrace. As the Greeks travelled on through the midst of the sea, the drowsy heavings of the waves did not begrudge them the peace and security in which to converse. Fhiloctetes was leading the way, and as he crossed again the sea he had sailed with Jason, he said* "Here are the Syrtes we encountered, here we were becalmed, here are the Symplegades which gave us some bother, when we went in search of the Golden Fleece. Here is the home of the

Lemnians, there the home of the Thracians. Here is Paros, there ." 135

So the hero explained everything to those who asked him, pointing out the landmarks of the former voyage, the routes traversed by Jason. He showed them the places where it was safe to go, and the places they had to avoid. When at last they reached the bosom of the hostile sand, they dashed their angry oars on the beaches and struck sparks from the savagely-clanging metal of their ships. Immediately the riotous soldiery spilled out into town and country­ side, and plundered the riches of the shore and the cities nearest the sea. The natives were ill protected by the name of Priam. Then when finally they had gathered together the spoils and the costly plunder, they burnt the gutted buildings in victorious flames. They went back to their ships, and rejoiced to see the sparks which they had caused drifting out across the sea into the middle of their sails. Tenedos, in particular, felt the overwhelming anger of the soldiery. It lamented not the torches alone, or the plundering of precious metal, but sighed that it had been annihilated, had been utterly consumed by the frenzy of Greek weapons. The boys had given their beardless throats to the sword, the old men their throats a-tremble, and the young men throats flowing with hair. When the noise of the fighting was over, the captains decided to wait here for the reply of the King of Troy. A council of nobles appointed Meleager their envoys Ulysses was to accompany him. They were to go to the Trojans, and in return for peace were to demand the restitution of Greek property, namely the plunder taken from Sparta — and Helen. Hou An-h-ipIftft to ok Mysla k i l l ed Teuthras

Meanwhile Achilles was stirred by his spirit, which was ever impatient 136 of idleness, to exciting deeds of daring. The lust for war roused his deepest being, and his savage mind rebuked Ms inactive right hand. Telephus with equal enthusiasm was aspiring to a like glorious reputation. They joined forces and set out to lay waste the land of . The River Caicus shuddered at the war that was descending on him, and Ms foster-child the swan raised Mgh Ms strident and re-echoing song. The , not even daring to look a t th is enemy from across th e sea, fled in terror, and sought safe Mding-places in the water's depths. The flocks ceased their frisking and were now less keen for flower and stream and shade. Insolent Achilles brought havoc to cities, rivers and pastures. He plundered all that was lovely or useful: tMngs that would help Mra in time of war, or that would be adornments in time of peace. Yokes lamenting the loss of the toiling ox, plougMng interrupted as the farmer fled, folds robbed of their herds — all these gaped at Ms fury: wherever the impetus of Ms wide-ranging onslaught took him, castle and cottage and field and wood bore witness to Achilles. Teuthras, the king of My si a, was sad that the riches of Ms cities and the splendour of Ms fields had fallen to this unprecedented havoc. When he realized the attacks were spreading he prepared for war, mobilized Ms cohorts, and came swooping down on the enemy with all Ms might. Achilles, happy at this prospect of new glory, gathered in Ms squadrons, who were busily engaged in different acts of plunder. "Steady, boys," he said, with a grim laugh. "The defender is at hand." No time was wasted. Furiously, with greater force than a torrential rain storm, he laid into the enemy and mowed down their middle with the 137 sword. Those whom he had sent sprawling in the first attack, he proceeded to pound Tinder th e hooves of h is trium phant h o rses. The scene was one of utter confusion: the mob fled, the lone man put them to flight. Thus does the whole of a house struck by the three-forked fire tremble in dread. Only part has felt the wrath of heaven, but terror showers its own lightning-bolts on all. Panic-stricken by the raging onslaught of his grim right hand, all the barbarians turned their backs on Achilles. Teuthras* conspicuous chariot first put Achilles on the tracks of the fugitive king: the ornaments of flashing metal drew attention to his futile retreat. 0 the disastrous glory of vain material possessions) Safe flight saved the possessionless from death, while the king, conspicuous in gold, and having about him the costly danger to his life, trembled and died, when all he had wanted was to remain hidden. Achilles' first throw drank the warm blood of Teuthras. He hurled a second spear, but Telephus, who had formerly been his comrade, now thrust his shield in the way and deflected the savage missile. Shame and anger for this useless cast flared up in Achilles. He gnashed his teeth, and rolling his blazing eyes, he said: "Do you dare, o Telephus, to make nonsense of my efforts, and bring all my threats to nothing?" So he spoke, and he would have plunged his quivering javelin into Teuthras, had not Telephus cried out in fear: "Alas, hold off) Hay the Gods above, o greatest of the Myrmidons, turn far from here this disgraceful act. Are you going to kill someone twice? May it be enough for all who have fought Achilles to have died only once: having been vanquished by your thunderbolts, they have no need of a second death. And why do you hurl grim threats at me? I did not protect Teuthras, although I owed 138 him that service* You yourself have heard of the wild savagery of

Diomedes' horses* The black stables of that wicked king, long glutted with the deaths of humans, fell to the hand of Hercules* When Diomedes was overthrown, Teuthras, who had been attacked so long and so often by the horses, could return in safety to his fatherland. I am the son of triumphant Hercules* I give thanks, and recall with pleasure, that X came to Mysia and enjoyed the kind hospitality of its kingi it would take too long to recount all he did for me in memory of my father* Because of this i t was my duty to l i f t him when he f e l l , and to p ro te c t him when he fle d in fear from your swords* But — and this shames me — I came too late* Moreover, if a war-crazed hand brings great Achilles to belabour a body that cannot feel his blows, and a strange fren 2y is urging his kindly soul to set no limit to his wishes and to leave nothing this side of possibility untried, well, I give up* Here, take these chill limb 3 and these entrails and pound them beneath your victorious chariot wheels*n So saying he lifted his shield on high, and, though fearful, pointed to Teuthras where he lay groaning his last. The king's blood was cold and his face white, as the spirit struggled from him* Then a t l a s t A chilles was moved by p ity , and re a liz e d what he was doing. Thus, for many, mercy too late puts a check on their fury. Appeased at last by the supreme penalty, they are led to put aside their savage deeds — but no praise lies in this* Teuthras, when he sensed that his grim wounds were working deeper into his weakening entrails, and were threatening him with certain death, said: "Take Mysia: our honour calls on you, o Telephus. For who is a closer, who a more deserving heir? When Diomedes was oppressing me, your father 139

Hercules freed me from the wild horses, ordained a quiet reign for me, and restored the armed years to peace. In return for these services I give you this kingdom which the treacherous anger of thieving fate refuses to me. May a more gentle destiny preserve you for old age, and may you reach your latter days and your final appointed hour, ever happy in your realm t * Scarcely had he said this when chill Atropos coiled in through his weary lips. His rolling eyes became rigid, his senses were blunted, and his limbs, putting aside the living heat, submitted to the icy chill of death. His spirit, free at last, flew away, and returned to its place

among th e s ta rs . When Telephus saw the features empty of the breathing blood, he wept bitterly into the piteous wounds, and ordained a lordly burial. Men brought to the tomb all that channs with its odour, or with its strength firms the sinews ami keeps the fleeting limbs from decay. They closed the gaping wounds a tig h t bandage tamed th e flowing blood, checking now i t s course

in v ain . A description of the tomb of Teuthras A royal structure, supported on six columns and carved with figures that could be seen from afar, was built to receive the king. The pedestal gleamed with amber, the lofty architrave blazed with gold, and the pillars between flashed white with ivory. The rock which had been removed to act later as the tomb's seal, was dressed with jasper. The gems which the rich sand o f the Indus b ea rs, the gold which the Hermus gives, came to l i f e in different scenes: the beauty of the work rivalled the magnificence of the materiel. Native skill and arduous effort combined to tell of Teuthras* 140 great and famous deeds* his whole life was revealed by the sculpture. In delicate bronze there was the king as a baby, crying, and swathed in Sidonian robes. His noble cradle stood high from the ground. Round him, his anxious nurse and his mother took turns in calming his tender cries with their breasts. Next as a young boy he took part eagerly in merry sports, wearying himself now with the hurtling ball, now the trundling hoop, now with the bows you would think that the curved bow—tips were coming together, that the arrow loosed from the string was whistling* The th ird scene, which showed him in armour, to ld o f the f i r s t years of the valiant king's reign. A royal diadem set his revered locks ablaze, and he sat sublimely on an ivory throne. His hand rejoiced in a gleaming sc e p tre . The p o r tr a it showed him w ith fre sh down upon h is face, administering his realms already like a man. Wearing now the garments of war, now the garments of peace, as the various course of events demanded, he roared in the midst of arms or gave his leisure time to peace. The last section, which brought him now to his late old age, showed the grey hairs and the temples lightly furrowed with wrinkles, mute witnesses to the passing of the days. At a distance, far off, was the end of his life, his death, and , not yet wearied, was still tending his vital thread. But a Fury, stronger than the Fates, came quickly and cast the king headlong. Then, there was a group of three figures linked together* Achilles with a look of anger on his face, Telephus who was entreating, and Teuthras in a swoon. The l i p s and the cheeks were pale* th e very gold looked as if it were dying. The blood spurted high into the air, and the background dripped with streams of vermilion. 141

A short epitaph briefly stated what Teuthras' glory was, who and what had killed him, and why he had died. This was the inscription* "King Teuthras, the glory of the land of Mysia, was vanquished by Achilles and killed by his sword, while fighting to defend the throne of his ancestors." After the faithful band had performed their lamentations at Teuthras' tomb in black and solemn show, with sorrowful voices they stilled the wailing and said their last farewell. Achilles led off his returning troops, and reluctantly Telephus left to go and govern the cities of his friend, the lands of his former comrade. His taste was all for war rather than peace, for fighting rather than a life of ease. He hoped for m ilitary gLory, and would have preferred the dangers of a life under arms* but the people, robbed of the king they had loved, overcame him with their sorrowful entreaties. They begged him to guard them as Teuthras had and to take up the task that had been given him. Achilles himself, with his eye on the future, advised him to stay in the kingdom and to till the land* to break up the soil into furrows, to bring forth the crops and to comfort the armies of his friends by sending them the harvests. In this way they would conquer with equal glory, since he, Telephus, was contributing the supplies and the Greeks the m ilitary m ight. When Achilles had said all this, he hastened back to Tenedos. But already the lord of , Ulysses, had come back reporting war and declaring that peace had been refused. The Greeks grew sick with indignation* they called for battle, they grieved that they had been inactive, they were 142 ashamed that they had approached the enemy under the olive branch. Now passion gave full rein to Mars* Bellona pricked on those who were already eager, Mars rounded up the doubtful * a mighty shout, spokesman of their raging hearts, thundered through the camp. They seized their arms and clattered hideously upon them. Trumpets and bugles increased the uproar, and attracted and her answering cries. The Greek fleet would have entered the harbour of Troy without even w aiting fo r Agamemnon's command, b ut approaching n ig h t brought irksome delay. The weary day lulled the sinking sun to sleep, and panting Atlas' shores received its tired rays. BOOK V

The Beginning of the War

Tall Diana was now directing her night-wandering horses across the middle of the heavens* Sleep, which had disarmed the Trojans with deep slumber, urged the Greeks to be deceitful and to take the easy entrance to the harbour that she offered them. Agamemnon gave orders for his men to move through the darkness. No flailing oars, no cries of rowers, disturbed the tranquility of the sea. The silent rowing left the waves still and undisturbed, as the fleet stole its way into the harbour. Thus was fortune granting the Greeks a bloodless triumph at very little cost to themselves. But the warlike son of Nauplius, Palamedes, blushed at the treachery, and refused to steal through the night like a thief. He had been the last of the Greeks to follow the standards of the captains with his thirty ships. Burnt dry by a long fever, he apologised to them for the delay* he said he had been locked in the bonds of illness and had come as soon as he had been able. His very appearance supported his story* his paleness was an oath to his grim sufferings, and his words won belief because of the testimony of his face. His spirit, however, was intact, enfeebled by none of his sufferings, and it had put fire in his weak limbs and reluctant sinews. Now it urged the Greeks to fight out in the open.

143 1 U

Swiftly their courage was steeled into valiant rage, and they refused to conquer by stealth. Thoughts of glory stirred each and every­ one of them the man who fought with a javelin from afar and the man who fought with a sword hand to hand, the man who fought on foot and the man who fought from a chariot. Seeking recognition, they were now reconciled to a naval engagement. The hand about to strike a blow waited for someone to see it, and they thought it shame to bury in darkness their chances of renown. Thus the young warriors changed their minds and refused to budge. Too impatient to sleep, and not even deigning to dose, they busied themselves through the long night, and kept each other awake. Some exercised their arms for battle, some stretched their legs. A great many bared their grim faces, others covered themselves right to the soles of their feet in bronze armour. But then finally a command rang out and they all aimed themselves together — helmets on heads, shields on chests, swords at sides, quivers on shoulders, and dubs in strong right hands. And then when they were all aimed like this, the soldiers milled around and roared for the light! they could scarcely endure the tardiness of dawn. They blamed the time the night was wasting, and rebuked the love- making of Tithonus, since the herald of the sun was being held back by his chill embrace and his sterile passion.^ It seemed as if the prayers of the warriors had a particular potency. A spirit spun the starry firmament more rapidly. This unprecedented speed, striking their astounded ears with music which had always been denied 2 them, hastened the journey of the sun. The Greeks perceived, as did the commander-in-chief himself, Agamemnon, son of Atreus, Lord of Argos, that d ay lig h t was a t hand. U 5

He, Agamemnon, linked his ships in formation. Those of shorter beam and lesser sail he set in the middle* The tower-bearing ones, the lords of the sea greedy for battle, he exposed to the first blows of the Trojans* Since the ranks were wavering, unnerved by fear, that thief of the spirit, and the near presence of Mars was striking horror into their hearts, Agamemnon spoke, and with his words renewed their rage, made inviolable their hope, strengthened their resolve, and steeled their daring. Agamemnon addresses the troops "Avenging Greeks, it is not really necessary to weave a pattern of words or to heap high the long entreaties: courage is its own stimulant* But, alas, trembling fear blocks the ears, and the mind slow to react to entreaty denies that all those outrages which our nation has suffered — and which would take too long to lis t — have given him a personal cause for fighting. "Be sure of this, then: we have all of us been outraged. It is not only the husbands who have been seared by misfortune. I will say nothing about the charming effronteiy of the guest, the chaste dealings of the thief. Nor do I complain of the insults offered to the Gods. No, the barbarity of the Trojans' normal behaviour is sufficient stimulus to anger.

Laomedon's treatment of the Argonauts — was this the goodness and radiant

honour that one expects of princes? 0 truly barbarous and unprecedented savagery, boorishness never heard of beforeI For who would have barred the hospitality of the naked shore to poor wretches whom confronting whirlpools, pursuing rocks and the unfamiliar sea with its ever-present waves had shattered? Who would have done this to nameless men even? But these were not nameless men: these were Peleus and Telamon, and Hercules, son 146 of the Thunderer, and ancestors whom Greece rejoices to have living among us still. The barbarians were unimpressed and persisted in their impiety. 3 They despised the sons and the husbands of the Gods. Hercules in his anger was not slow to revenge himself and Heaven. Vith only a few companions to follow him into battle, he came, he conquered, he returned. "Now th e re w ill be fig h tin g again, bu t no H ercules. The enemy, however, has never before encountered an Achilles. And Achilles is only one of many. When I put your hearts and emulous daring to the test, let no-one deign to think this Achilles better than he, let each blush to find him his equal. And so, my glorious young warriors, make for your cowardly enemy with avenging swords; up and at them, I say. By the Gods, I hate this tame and easy victory without a fight I To what end will be our towering courage, to what end our warlike arms? They will all show their backs, none his chest. "Would it be enough for you, my warriors, that a perjured tyrant has paid the penalty? Deaf-eared Laoraedon was a cruder man, but Paris' morals are worse. Therefore let no man put away his sword or his destined spear, who has concern for the dealings between nations, who is anxious to repair the institution of marriage, and wishes to couple in chaste slumber, safely and free from care. What need have I of further words? Every wish has now the motive to be fulfilled. Go gladly, go, my captains, le t no citadels, le t no arms delay you. And those whom Hercules broke with his fifteen ships, do you pulverize with your countless might.1* So he spoke, and banished night uncovered the risen day. Phoebus was swifter off the marie with his chariot to see the fall of perjured Troy.^ The very horses fought their restraining reins and asked for the firmament 14-7

to be spun faster. What a miracle there vast The rising was swift, and there was no dawn-twilight. Phoebus' chariot outpaced the blaze of his own morning star. That a glad splendour might encourage the Greeks with its welcome omen, no redness in th e E ast, no p a llo r, stained the sun. The dawn was bright with that pure radiance you see when the day is cloudless and the noon shadows shorten and gather themselves into cones. With such brightness, then, did Apollo set out on his serene course. The Greek warriors marvelled and the King cried out again: "Shall we then deny our hands and our weapons to the Gods, o sons of Inachus? See, Apollo calls us on) He joyfully speeds his panting horses, while Neptune^ makes gentle the dark-blue waters we are sailing on. I do indeed believe that they too have joined our ranks, and are calling for a triumph over th e descendants o f Laomedon - - bu t I am w asting tim e)" The Greeks cheered and the whole strait re-echoed with their

spirited roar. Not like this does the South wind whisper through the leaves in wintertime, not with such a din does spring lightning topple mountaintops, and spring-torrents great boulders. Astur, the keeper of the Palladium, saw the ships coming. He ran his swift but wavering course through the city crying: "Arm)" and again "Arm) How much longer are you going to go on sleeping? Look, the enemy are at hand. I have seen the sea covered with ships, and already they hold

the shore." The credulous citizenry raised high their querulous yelps. The children joined in, outweeping their mothers, rivalling their groans, and lending a high pitch to the tumult. 143

When Hector heard that Europe was sailing up with all its ships, he fell into a panic. Soon, however, he recovered his senses and pulled himself together. He rebuked himself in that his fiery courage had faltered and fled, banished by alien fear. He seized aims immediately* without waiting for the rest he burst open the gate alone, and alone hurtled out. The other Trojans came charging out together, following him at a distance, and bunching at the gates. There were six ways out of the city, but so great was the surge of soldiers that even these six gates hardly gave passage enough. Troilus reached the plains in second place, and keen Paris was third. The same impetus bore on the rest, but not so great was the courage in their feet or the ardour in their chariots. The beginning o f th e war As soon as Hector saw the Greeks coming closer with their straining o ars, he c rie d : "Where do you th in k your onrush w ill take you? H alt, you 5 sons of Tantalus. We will meet in the midst of the waves: the very waves have their defenders." So saying he reined his panting horses into the surf. He sent his spear hurtling at the near threatening ship of Protesilaus. It crashed through the planks and pinned Lycus, the helmsman, to the tille r. Hector burst into derisive laughter, and added to the insult by saying* "Go off safely across the seat The waves and the East wind will not buffet you off course. You will steer your ship with a steady hand, as you make for the Colchian sheep." The Greeks were thrown into confusion; the spirits of the Trojans ro se. The d isco rd an t tum ult b a tte re d th e s ta r s . But Echo wa 3 not impressed. She interrupted their cries, drowning them in an angry roar. U 9

Protesilaus caught sight of the tiller, unattended now. Quickly he took the helmsman's place, and with all hi3 might he swung th e ship for the harbour. It hurtled on, and shattered itself on the sand like one enraged. The wrecked ship sp ille d him onto th e dry lan d . Protesilaus was thus the first to reach the perjured shore, and as he trod the hated sand, he cried out* This way lies our journey, this way we will go. 0 comrades, it is not the whole of Trojan Ida that I ask fori we will share the lands in common." So saying, he rushed onto the swords, and where the battle-line stood the thickest he violently hacked his hideous way. Three warriors from the banks of the Indus, five Arabs, seven sons of the Nabathaeans he consumed with his victorious hand. turned to oppose him, and came running up wildly with his spear poised. But savage Protesilaus knocked aside his weapon with his hacked-off log; and having burst open his chain-mesh and broken his helmet, he sliced his breast in two and thrust his spear deep into his entrails. Orontes, the Chaldean, was standing in the surf. His intention was to hinder the ships, but in mid-blow the sand caused him to stumble. Thetis, plunging him headlong, received his pointless bravery; the Greek warriors attacked fiercely from above. In his panic Orontes began to swim, launching himself off into the midst of the waves. Now he surfaced, now he plunged into the seat with alternate fear he avoided now the long draughts of salt-water, now the attacking weapons. His body became heavier and heavier, and at last, probing the opaque waves, he collided with a ship and h is forehead became lodged in th e anchor. 150

The Trojans attacked more fiercely, while on the other side anger and shame armed the raging Greeks. The battle see-sawed, backwards and forwards. The waves drank first the blood of one and then the blood of the other. Greek blood disdained to mingle with Trojan.

The k illin g ; o f P ro te sila u s Protesilaus darted out, and dreading in his excessive pride to find anyone better than he, he immediately burst, wild and alone, into the rear­ guard. As if Mars himself was attacking them, this wavering mob panicked, believing that an army had plunged into their midst and that it was not just one hand alone that was dealing out such savagery.

Hurtling on, Protesilaus outstripped both armies, and, despising the battle he had abandoned, he yearned to beat down the towers of Troy.

Fiery Hector hurled himself in his breathless paths "How much further do you think you are going?" he cried. "This is the end of the road for you."

Fiercely he bared his sword. The jewelled-device on Protesilaus 1 helmet provided no protection at all, and the ivory plunged on down into his breast. Hector thundered out* "Whoever you are, go happy, prouder than the rest of the shades; you have been slaughtered by the hand of

H ecto r." Thus did the only one in LaodamiaTs life die. Forgetting the faith of a lover, he had not obeyed her gentle commands, the fearful entreaties she had made to him when he was leaving for the war. His concern for his tender love had departed at the first clashing of arms. Ignorant of his fate, sad Laodamia sighed for her absent husband.

Seizing the face that could not feel, she planted kisses on its wzx. In vain she wearied the obstinate Gods with her prayers. But Protesilaus 151 waa dead, and obstructing the yoked horses where he lay. The chariots, not seeing him, gouged him apart with their wheels. When the Greeks caught sight of him being trundled along headlong, horror lent wings to their steps and goaded their eager feet. For all, the way back to the safe shore and the ships seemed long and slow. But Achilles leapt forward like a lightning bolt, and, gnashing his teeth fearfully, he roared: "For shame I Ve have hardly caught wind of the enemy, and already we are showing our backs." He seized hold of a great oaken cross-beam which had stretched out the sails to the slanting breezes, and called out again: "Now, o now, le t no-one follow. Let me go alone, alone let me conquer!" Immediately the whole rumbustious troop of Trojans fled. They bared the shore and the plains: all that lay between the sea and the towers of Troy gaped open to the unimpeded advance of the Greeks. Hector was the last to withdraw, and he did so with dignity, keeping his face to the foe.

Angrily and reluctantly he retreated across the fields. The sight of Achilles, however, checked his steps and they turned aside to meet. Because both hoped to find his equal in arms, both stood their ground, both dared, both feared. They cast ferocious sidelong glances at each other in turn. Immediately the Greek array spilled out into the open plains, and Agamemnon, the commander-in-chief, fixed on a site for the camp, and detailed the soldiers to guard it and the ships. The detachments rallied to the trumpets, and Agamemnon renewed the fight.^ His army marched out to do battle on the contested plains. On the other side — such were the promptings of passion — the Trojans did not rush on the defensive, but spuming the help which towers and walls 152 offered, they eagerly put themselves on a level with the enemy. It was, in fact, the Trojans who first provoked battle, accepting a challenge that the Greeks had not even had time to make. As the two battle-lines closed, they roared louder than Etna when its fires burst out, than the Isthmus when it is lashed by the storms of two sea3 , than Aeolus when he bellows in his cave. Everyone’s lust for daring increased and the din inflamed their rage. The reckless courage of war eluded no-one. The charioteer goaded his horses, the foot-soldier goaded himself. Nov on all sides valiant right arms clashed together, and each man

sought his equal. But often the contest was unequal and the many encountered one, or the one many. Savage rage now flared in them all, as swords fought it out with battle-axes, spears with javelins, and sling-shots w ith bows. The k illin g of P atro clu s Patroclus, the son of , the second charge of Chiron and his other love, dressed like Achilles in courage, leapt into the middle. Here stood three together working as one, and dealing out wounds with their hands. Patroclus in his daring rode up to them and lashed his horses into them, pyarces he sent sprawling with his shield, Hisyphilus with his chariot, and Hiphitus with his sword. Hector, casting his eyes down the ranks, was angry to see that these three had fallen. He charged up lustily, brandishing his flashing spear, and struck Patroclus so that he fell backwards from his mount. The horse tried to retreat with the body which was fastened to it. But Hector was after him too quickly. He caught hold of the yoke, and then violently 153 sent the head and helmet of Patroclus spinning off through the air. The voice itself was not yet dead, end it whispered thinly, "Where is my avenger, o Achilles? 11 Eventually the helmet was picked up far down the ranks by a man called Dorylas, Hector took possession of the rest of the body, and he would have gone off proud in his golden spoils, had he not been forced to turn hastily on Meriones, who was daring to ride against him. The killing of Meriones "Will you plunder both life and arms, jou, whoever you are!" shouted th e Greek. When, a f te r dealing out many wounds, Hector had swooped down re jo ic in g on Meriones to snatch off his valuables, hurtled up. Grieving in his heart for the death of his comrades, he smote Hector in the thigh with his sword. Hector bellowed, unaware of the wound, for it was not painful enough for him to feel it. Then, however, he saw the bloodstains on the yokes. Not knowing for sure where they had come from —> whether from him or the slaughtered Greeks — he leapt aggressively from his chariot. He called for firebrands, and beating off the enemy, he attacked the ships with devastating fire. Eventually Telamonian Ajax burst through and came to challenge him. Clearing the battle-field with his angry sword he looked for Hector. The grim Fury laughed, for here was the unspeakable evil of blood relative seeking the death of blood relative. But piety was aroused and uncovered their blind error* she checked the raging warriors and revealed to them their common ancestors. Gladly Hector and Ajax put aside their arms and firebrands, and loosed their helmets and kissed. Then having exchanged shields, they returned to their tents. 154

■

The quarrel about transferring the supreme command Meanwhile a truce was granted for the burial of dead comrades* Each mourned his own: Achilles his slaughtered friend* the Thessalians Protesilaus* his ancestral Meriones, The truce lingered on into the second year. In the midst of this long-lasting peace, which both nations made inviolable, a new quarrel threw the Greek princes into confusion. Envy and greed were the cause — envy which is always brooding over the rights of others, greed which cannot bear the thought of something excellent in the hands of a friend. These two passions now tormented and plagued Palamedes, and shook the tottering summit of authority. He kept complaining that the supreme command was faltering under blind control, that Plisthenian stupidity was ill-suited to the heavy responsibility, that the conduct of the war was too sluggish, and that the array needed another commander-in-chief. While saying all this, he insinuated the excellence of his own service — his fighting in the field, his training of others, his regulation of guard duty, his advice in council, his loyalty to the cause. Thus with much heartache he blindly canvassed for the command of the array. All he would get from it would be the empty glory of sovereignty, and the countless afflictions which come with kingship. Each faction had its own arguments. To some the new is always more pleasing! they find the old loathsome and cry for its yoke to be removed. But for others it is troublesome to change the familiar and tedious to learn the new. The matter was s till not decided when suddenly the swords returned*. Peace was buried and again Greeks and Trojans seized arms. Bellona clashed 155 warriors together, as on all sides battle was joined. Dashing Troilus, deadly Hector, end Aeneas, a formidable figure in his arms, urged on the Trojans. Achilles, the child whom the Thunderer feared to sire, the twin sons of Atreus, and young Diomedes whetted the emulous rage of the Greeks* Even so does the South Vind rush against the North, the East Wind against the Vest; even so does Aeolus arm the battle-lines of winter and overcome the fiery blasts of Etna* Hector in one uninterrupted burst of war-like frenzy killed three mens Boetes with rocks, with a sword, and Frothoenor with a spear* All the angry courage of the captains now concentrated itself on this one man, and, all against one, they attacked him with poles, struck at him with their swords, and heaped high on him all that the experience of Mars and the skill of Mulciber had bestowed on the eager fates: the rocks of the Spanish slingers, the stealthy arrows of the Parthlans, the flying axes of the Dacians* Just like a promontory rising up against Sicilian storms, he planted his feet and stood there rock-like and immovable, attacking his attackers and laughing at their useless rage* Paris and Menelaus fight In another part of the field doughty Menelaus attacked Paris as he was calling the Trojans to battle. He rebuked him, briefly, saying* "Do you recognize me, my guest? Do you still remember you enjoyed Spartan hospitality? Well, I have come to claim return of that hospitality. Oh, come along, pay back. Throw in Pergamura to o , i f needs must be* How much longer will you go on holding back? Give me your hand. Surely you are not going to run away!" 156

Paris aimed his skilful bow at Menelaus and grazed his forehead with an arrow-tip. "All right," he said, "I grant your request. Come along like that to see Helen." Menelaus burst into violent anger. He roared louder than Hyrcanian tigers, or Scythian sows, or African lions roar, when bewailing their plundered young. Locrian Ajax stood by his comrade in his rage, and urged on his prince. More swiftly than the lightning of Jove, they scattered the mob that had'been hurled against them, and sped through the midst of the swords. Menelaus headed off the wing-footed horses of Paris as they were galloping away. Catching hold of their manes, he said* "We will go together. But Troy is already near." So he spoke, and unbridling the restless horses> he drove them off. Paris turned pale. Iimnediately, however, Hector came galloping up. His companion, Aeneas* the demi-god son of Venus, threw up his shield to cover Paris, and so snatched him away from his enemy. He then took him back to Troy, where he restored him to his bed-chamber, and that region's soft encounters. Well done, Paris! Is this how you beat your retreat? Is this how you abandon th e f ie ld and your enemy, you coward? But warlike Hector taking on his brother's fight and a battle not his own, wounded, end killed, and routed. Unwearied, he plied the whole b a tte ry of h is weapons* h is powerful, wide-ranging blows never fa ile d to fin d th e ir mark. Orcomeneus f e l l to b is ja v e lin , to h is pike, to his sword, Dorius to his pole, to his bow. Palamenes he crushed with a rock, with a hunk of timber. The one hand dealt out seven deaths. 157

Amphimachus had drained th e life -b lo o d of the Trojan, Phlegyas. Fearing now to be on the receiving end of death, he showed a clean pair

of victorious heels. Aeneas pierced the fugitive with his gaze and his skilful arrow, which murmured "DieI" into his ear as it transfixed it. Achilles was no less active, and with his raging right hand he mowed down Pylaeus, Hippolytus, and Asterius. Diomedes sent Xenthippus

and his comrade down to their deaths together. Thus did they keep the slaughter equal on both sides, balancing the number of the slain. As the steel ravaged and thinned the Greek forces, they dropped their battle formation and began to straggle. Now in a disorderly mob, the survivors began to look for their comrades. Seizing the right moment Agamemnon gave an imperial roar. He rebuked, he encouraged, he commanded,

he reformed the faltering battle-lines. Sitting high on his Spartan horse he visited them all. He promised that help would be there quickly. "Telephus w ill not delay in arming the My si an cohorts and giving abundant

spears to the Greeks," he said. There was an immediate response. All readily resumed the attack on the disorderly Trojan rabble. Presently it took them long to find, and

they were slow to be given, anyone to smite. Every hand flashed out against an enemy, and no-one's hand raged in vain. The detestable joys of Mars and his savage delights were boiling and bubbling everywhere. One had been blinded, and his eye dribbled down onto his face. Another grinned hideously, his chin, his tongue, and his nose hacked away. On others a lopped-off ear, or hand, or shoulder dangled. Some pressed back their gaping innards with their hands. Others fell down, their knees hacked into, and crawled away from their enemy. Here there 158 fomed a great pool of blood which flowed from severed heads; there the abandoned trunks soared up into a great heap, and slowed down the chariots. The Simois feeding on th e snows o f w inter, th e h a il storms o f spring, and the rain of summer, had not marvelled at greater floods. Seizing onto the blood, it flowed a different colour to the sea. Triton, and Thetis, pale with fear, gazed in dread at the approaching corpses. Thetis scanned them all, crouching over them: she turned them over in their hundreds and thousands, but among them all she did not find Achilles. Phoebus had sped the failing light on its way, and the stars in their turn had brought to the empty sky and the startled darkness their own starry brightness. The Greek captains were summoned to a council; and presently Ulysses, with Diomedes at his side, went to Priam bearing the wishes of the captains and the entreaties of the army. saw the Greek arms from far off, and believed that treachery was afoot. He leapt swiftly down from his watch*-post and challenged! "Where are you going so swiftly? Halt, warriors: 16 it peace or arras that you bring?" Ulysses and Diomedes showed him the o liv e branch. They said they were envoys and begged to be admitted to Priam. They were taken to the king, they said what they had to say, they returned — all this in short order. The war was suspended for three years, and on this they shook hands. But war-like Hector railed against the treaty and the delay imposed by the peace. He guessed that the broken Greeks would of necessity regain their strength over so long a period. This suspension of the war inspired them all with other cares. They laboured late and long: the Trojans building up their walls, the Greeks t h e i r camp, and both sid es th e ir tombs. 159

The third summer had hardly broken the soil with its flowers, when on both sides the captains came leaping forth into the mad dangers of the disused plain. Savage Hector wheeled his swordi Fortune looking to his last days, gave him a surging spirit, and granted him glorious deeds with which to ennoble his coining death, cut Hector off in front, and Philibus blocked his rear. Each poised his ash-spear and kept Hector in check in the middiet but he, regaining his own slanting spear, gave them * such a reception that the first went off mourning his eyes, the other his brain, Achilles attacked Euphorbus and pierced him with his spear, Euphorbus ran away trying to check the weapon by pushing against it with his hands. In his headlong flight he blundered into a group of men and sent his comrade sprawling. Victorious Achilles came chasing up. He stabbed th e ir f a lle n b re a sts, sending th e ir s p i r i t s in company down to H ell, Troilus, bearing his Trojan club into the middle of the fighting, dispatched seven Myrmidons with one blow. Sweeping on, he would have battered down another seven if only he could have found them. His heart burned within him to attack Achilles himself. But Phoebus grieved for the hundreds of thousands who were falling, for the groans on evexy side, for all the different shapes of death. His sorrow overwhelmed him, and he plunged his swift reins into the sea. He terrified the battle lines with the sudden stars. The dream o f I t was night, and Andromache la y w ith h er arms about h er husband, who was weary from the long fighting. When she had asked about the savagery of the battle, which nation was ahead, what the names of the Greek princes 160 were, what they looked like, what had been the outstanding feats of the

Trojans and of Hector himself, and had he been afraid, she fell asleep, pressing dose to her husband* The vapours of her first slumbers scattered, 7 and then her later sleep, purged of all lying shapes, caused her to trouble and fear* A laurel-tree was standing tight-rooted to the marriage- bed, end enfolding in its branches the secret household gods* A hostile axe was hacking at its trunk, and the branches, dripping blood, were falling on the marriage-bed* The hideous dream piled on more grim portents: some­ times she was lying sprawled across the width of the bed and her husband was not there; then again she 3 aw his empty and gaping mouth befouling his breast with blood* At length, sick with horror, she burst from the bonds of sleep, and over and over again she screamed in her dread: "Hector, Hector, where are you?" Searching the bed with fearful hand, she redoubled her cries: "My love, ray love, are you here, my love?" Hector began to calm her fears, and gradually he cleared the sleep that was still lingering in her brain* At one moment she credulously believed her dreams, at another she rejected them* She clung to her husband and yet thought she had lost him; she was afraid although all seemed safe. Not daring to say anything, however, she made up her mind to stop him from going back to the battle. But Hector was not moved by the warnings of a woman, and spurned the presentiments of the timid sex* Impatient for the fighting and keen to be away, he called for his horses* Then indeed she became frantic* In her anxiety she raised high her voice* She begged everyone she came across to help her* She went in and out with no fixed purpose* She caught hold of 161 her little , who was bewildered by his mother’s laments, and flung him in the gateway in the path of his father* Hector had put on his helmet, and was sitting tall in his chariot* Andromache cried out in foreboding to Priam: "Alas, we p erishf Help us, fa th e rl" Priam called on his son to halt, and now, at last, Hector did so. Reluctantly he allowed himself to be delayed, while Memnon took charge of the army* But when Hector was nowhere seen under a Trojan helmet, the s p ir its of the Greeks rose, their confidence soared, their hands grew keener for battle, and greater was their license to advance audaciously across the plain. Now Pergamum was at hand, and the Trojans fled. The women and the old men who used to watch the fighting from the walls, cried out in terror. They shook the city with their mournful wailing.

The death of Hector Hector, turning on Andromache the thunderbolts of his eyes, saidt "Now, w ill you hold me back a second time?" He lashed his horses into action. Not thus does even Mars rush with armed terror along the heights of Mt. Ossa, to break the Geloni with the sword, the Getae with the sickle, or the Thracians with the lance* When the captains recognized him tearing into battle, his ash-spear in his hand, they immediately turned tail* Pear, that guardian of the soul, urged a returh journey. But savage Hector, not deigning to vent his rage on backs, outstripped them as they fled, and turned to meet them face on. He brought down Idomeneus with his trunk-like spear* (With Idomeneus fell , killed 162

the same way.) , who ran, and Iphidus, who attacked, carried

away sure death in the shape of a mortal wound. Polypoetes was the last to feel the sword of Hector thrust deep into his throat. Fortune, which had been giving the Trojan increase of strength, did not fail this his last act. His blow plunged its way through the shoulders and arms, and Polypoetes* body, hacked in two, toppled into twin trunks. His shield alone remained unscathed, and victorious Hector decided to exchange it for his own. It was painted with the image of Greek Juno, and when he proudly took it in his le ft hand, she bellowed more fiercely than her own son Mars or the thunderbolts of Jove* such is the proneness g of the sex to slip into rage, such is the sway that ancient hurt has over them. Off she went to rouse Achilles. Achilles would not have dared to try conclusions with so great a warrior as Hector, but when he refused both Juno and Minerva pricked him to action. Both made him offers as they implored his aid. Juno offered him courage, Minerva offered him rage, and both offered him stren g th . He drew nearer. Relying on the power the Goddesses had provided,

he furiously whipped out hi3 flashing sword, The ranks fell back in fear on either side, and even the battles of the princes gave way and came to a standstill in honour of the larger fight. On both sides a savage yell arose, on both sides there was fear. They desired to see the raging warriors and yet they feared to look. It was as if two thunderbolts were clashing with leaping flame. Hector was the first to attack. He launched his massive spear. It hurtled on and struck Achilles in the thigh. (Alas it had beon hurled by a hand too close to the ground, a hand which had

ruined an otherwise fatal blow.) 163

Shame for the ineffectual cast increased Hector's rage. He would have purged the disgrace of his spear with his drawn sword, but Achilles, even fiercer now from the pain of the wound, lashed out with his weapon.

The Goddesses were behind his hand, and he sent mighty Hector crashing to the ground.

At length Hector1 s spirit, hardly warlike now, deserted his icy limbs, while his soul raged. Immediately the startled ranks of the

Trojans straggled off into stumbling flight. Achilles fell more furiously on then in their panic and raged with a mightier right hand. He slaughtered thousands in the very gates. But Memnon, the derai-god son of Tlthonus, thrust his breast and confronting shield in Achilles' path. The two heroes fought savagely, wounding and being wounded in turn, and it was with difficulty that deep night and its train of darkness put an end to the battle.

Alas, alas, on how slender a thread mortality sways f Nothing of man is fixed and certains the gifts of smiling Fortune are not true gifts, but snare3. Be like the Sirens and always fear the cloud behind the bright o sim, the tears behind the smile, the poison beneath the sweetness. If you have property, disaster will cheat you of it; if beauty, old age; if strength, sickness; if a glorious name, the forgetfulness of posterity.

In none of the gifts of fortune is there any permanence. Frail man, buffeted by these storms, either languishes sick to death or shrivels away in the grave. If neither of these fates has yet befallen him, he is still assuredly mortal* Atropos will harvest his middle years and cheat him of his end. 164.

And so, alas I he died, Hector, the only hope of the Trojans, Hector

who was once like Mars, Hector, to whom Jove, retiring, would gladly have

entrusted his thunderbolts, if only Nature had made him immortal. The

Fates, however, realized he was standing in the way of the destiny they

had ordained* they realized this, and with their combined force they

snapped the burgeoning thread of his strong young life. With its guardian

destroyed, they would now with greater license bring about the destruction

of Troy.

Even so great and so valiant a man was our king, Henry I I I , ^ who

had grown to a lordly rage like Hector’s. He who was our king and

Normandy’s duke, had spent his youth in France. The warlike French, vanquished by him in battle, did not so much begrudge him his superiority

in fighting as they begrudged us our superiority in wisdom. BOOK VI

The Destruction of Troy

The Trojans, in ragged formation, moved their sorrowing standards more sluggishly across the field* Their shields ran with tears, the plumes of their helmets were weighed down with grief, the slender gold of their armour was shattered by repeated sobs, their weapons were a burden to them, and there was no joy, no gladness in the entire army* The banners themselves, puffed out by the wind, leapt out in false liveliness, but when the wind fell they crumpled and died, and caused the bright dragons to droop* The warhorse did not give voice to those angry bellows which are the proof of its arrogant soul; it no longer pranced round lightly in a circle, lifting high its hooves and scattering the dust* Instead, in grim, unbroken silence it ground its hooves into the plain and sent the horseman flying; loathing the charioteer it avoided the approaching reins with backward-arching neck. The trumpets wailed raucously, the bugles clattered their keening commands, and there was not a sound that did not speak of sorrow. Such was the state of the melancholy Trojan warriors whom Hemnon tried to drag against the opposing hordes. They demanded to go back, they refused to go on, for Hector seemed always on the point of coming up from behind. Even so do the Lords of Hybla, the bees, battle for honey. At a given signal they engage, and then if the king on either side should fall, his bussing ranks raise high the wail of breavement*

165 166

In time they find themselves another general, and timidly brandish their little spikes. They, return to the battle with all the fight gone from them.

The supreme command ip transferred

Now the Greek array, more boastful in their joyous arms, had advanced.

Their spirits soared, and they hoped for a speedy victory now that Hector had been cast down.

Palaraede3, having got his wish, was now commander-in-chief. He had taken on fearful anxieties, and, poor wretch, was enjoying the grim honour.

Agamemnon had put aside the insignia of Icingship and had gladly stripped himself of the sovereignty. The acquisition of the supreme command, he said, had not been his motive in coming to Troy, and he would be quite happy if under any other commander the array destroyed the Trojans and returned to

Greece in triumph. Who or where or when were unimportant! what mattered was what was done and how it was done: deeds would remain, but the person who did them would pass away. To this he added that he was lord of Mycenae by stronger right, and that his rule was unchallenged at home. He was not so keen for the insignia of rank that he preferred to spend wakeful nights and troubled days, weighed down under a load of care. Warlike Achilles was the only one to denounce the change of authority.

Proud Palamede3, having taken over the war, struggled to outdo every one in glory and to deserve his royal position. And so the battle-lines clashed again. Both sides charged, and the land lying between slipped away.

Sarpedon swept the massed ranks of his Lycian swordsmen into battle, and, fighting foremost, stormed into the enemy. As hundred-handed Briareus, raising the standards of the giants on the mountain-tops of Phlegra, laughed at the tame thunderbolts of Jove, the spears of Diana, the horses of 167

Mars, the arrows of Apollo, and the serpents of Minerva, so did this demi­ god, exulting in his descent from Jove, rise up and brutally show his contempt for Juno and the massed standards of the Gods. Wherever he blustered among the straggling foe, he overthrew many thousands with his hand, rode down many thousands with his high hurtling chariot. It was as if his father* s lightning-bolts were raging* his chariot made a noise like thunder.

Ill-starred Gobius fell, and no more lucky than he was , and also Menalius, he who had fought long against the savage Comae.

Then Fheres died, but not before he had avenged all the many deaths which

Sarpedon had inflicted. His javelin had pierced the left shoulder of the hero, and at last he, Sarpedon, was prevailed upon to turn aside from his onslaught. He looked back at the enemy, gazing longingly at all their retreating tracks. He blazed to return to the fight, and angry at not being able to, he lashed out at his comrades who were holding him back.

But his sight grew ha2 y. He had lost a lot of blood, and fainted, although the wound was not a mortal one.

Meanwhile Deraophoon, Acamaa and Hippolytus hastened off to fetch the My si an. harvests. A lack of martial corn and audacious wine had blunted the rage of the Greeks, and hunger had fed on their strength.

A truce and their pledged word put arms to sleep for a year. Both camps lay open to either arrays the defenders were allowed to see the

Greek tents and the enemy could gaze at the homes of the Trojans.

While men could thus wander through the approach works and walls of both sides, Priam and Hecuba, accompanied by the sacred band of their daughters, appeased the shades of Hector in the threshold of the Thymbraean 168

gate. His year-old ashes* toiling in the murk of hell* called for the

consoling banquet, the festal lamentation, and the mournful adorning of

his tomb. The Trojan women stood there with their hair in disarray. One mourned her husband, the other her son, many their brother. Now they all lamented together, now one by one they beat their breasts.

While the faces of the others flared to paleness* their beauty over­

whelmed, Polyxena alone was blooming, her looks unaffected* the sorrow of

her heart dared do nothing to her face. Achilles saw her, Achilles longed

to have her: wounded by Venus' sharp golden dart he sighed his sudden

love. At this one blow he felt all the goads and fires which lovers feel when a long love affair has with the passing of time slowly and steadily

tightened its hold on their wounded hearts. Fastened forever in love's

chains* he longed only to marry Polyxena.

He forgot the practice of arras and lost interest in battle. Already

he was willing to return, to lead back his national contingent, to throw

the whole array into confusion, if the royal maiden would be given to him

as a companion for his bed, as a reward for his withdrawal. He sent word

of this to Priam by way of the Phrygian, , his most trusted slave.

There would be peace, Achilles declared* and the entire war would have to be concluded with a treaty, if the Myrmidons followed his orders and

returned.

Priam listened* and although he rejected Achilles' offer as it stood,

the terms he sent back with Sergestus were pleasing to the Greek. His

love increased, and he now actively hated the war. Priam's agreement was

as follows: "When all the Greeks stop fighting, Achilles will have

Polyxena to take back to his country as his feride.* 169

No time was lost. Achilles advised the Greeks that they should all return together. He complained that they had suffered acute danger in vain. He did not consider it right, he said, that such mighty captains had declared war on one man's bedroom for one woman's sake, and that in trying to put right Sparta's loss they were wasting both the people and the princes in long-enduring war.

Peace was pleasing to the rank and file. Their blazing frenzy for an end to war approved Achilles' advice. Each man got ready his ship for sailing back home the very next day. But soon, seizing the opportunity, the Fates sped on their way the harvest-bearing ships which Telephus had sent to the Greeks. He had done this in spite of the fact that he was hostile to them now that they had unseated Agamemnon and were following a new commander and the standards of another.

The ships had hardly reached the harbour, when the ranks suffered a change of heart. They broke out violently into a new chant, and called for the return of their swords.

The killing of Palamedes. Deinhobus. and Sarpedon

The swift onward movement of the year, its twelve toils completed,^ had spun heaven-wandering Phoebus through the arc appointed for the truce, and now the armies clashed once again. Achilles alone did not march out to battle, Achilles alone did not fight — Achilles, who grieved that his prayers had been blocked by the barrier of war.

Palamedes, son of Nauplius, drove the others into battle, and sought out Deiphobus in the first flush of his power. He hurled his javelin and sent it smashing through both sides of his temples. Thus did he give 2 Priam a second death to mourn. This was indeed a lucky omen for Palamedes1 comrades. 170

Sarpedon rode up to block his path. He attacked prodigiously, and lavished on his blow all the strength that his wounded, bleeding body had left him. The might of destiny was not entirely against him: he pierced the shield, and with a glancing blow drew blood on Palamedes1 left side. The Greek general had a luckier sword, and striking back to greater effect, he spilled Sarpedon onto the sand, to be wept for by the angry Gods.

Merrily to them, and much more boastfully to the rest, he cried out:

"See, see, what mighty giants I chop down in open fight with my sword and my victorious right hand I What greater testimony will Phlegra bear to valiant Jove, Antaeus to Hercules, or Minos to Theseus? In such company, then, let the Greek commander go — " He was just allowed to get so far — or not even so far — boasting at the top of his voice, when an arrow came whistling into bis throat. Paris, shooting better than the Assyrians and rivalling the Scythians, had launched it into the air.

The general fell, and vaunting glory, having gained its slender fruits, perished in the midst of grief. All the Trojans, with their

stabbing, clashing spears, dug into his body as it lay there on the ground.

When a commander dies, the mob loses command of itself; when a leader dies all the courage of the led sickens and grows weak: their very weapons seem to lose their power. Thus if a charioteer falls from his post and the reins are broken, the horses are thrown into confusion,

astounded by the removal of authority. Gaining their sudden freedom, they gallop about hither and yon all over the place, as if they were afraid.

By the same token, for the same reason, the Greeks scattered and fled.

Now the comp and the shore seemed far, and they pushed each other out of 171 the way as they ran* He who was first feared that he was last and the nearer to the foe. They slipped their shields from their breasts to their backsides* and guarded their retreat. But no spears, no ships, no defense- works could offer protection. The Trojans burned, overthrew, slaughtered* the sails with torches, the towers with poles, the men with swords.

News of the massacre spread: Achilles pretended not to be interested, but another of ' descendants beat off his quota of torches and spears, and wearily toiled with his defending shield. At length Thetis took pity on her breathless nephew, and, raising the level of the sea, she ran to meet approaching Apollo, so that she might plunge into her waters his lingering rays.

The dawn of the following day had hardly scattered the shadows when on all sides warriors leapt up for the fight, and seised the spears which were leaning against their armed beds. Some, however, had not taken off the dripping ivory of their swords or their overshadowing helmets. Their necks reclining on their shields, they had valiantly slept through the night in their armour. The admonishing bugles rang out for the Trojans, and pipes sounded for the Greeks. The harsh trumpets blared of strife.

But prompt virtue anticipated the pealing summons, and fierce battle erupted on either side* they pressed and gave way, they threatened and drew back in dread. Fortune, alternating its services, gave brief triumphs and tiny retreats, now to the one side, now to the other.

Foot-soldier and horse-soldier attacked with a will* the one swept steeply into his blow, the other raised humble right arm against the descending wound. Abas ran up, and lifted his sword to unseat the charioteer Melampus. But it was as if the horses realised what was afbot. 172

Savagely they reared up, and trampled Abas under their hooves. They left him lying dead on the sand. Happier for what had happened and confident in the help of his horses, Melampus hurtled violently through the arms and faces of men in his insolent chariot. He sought bodies to ride on and spurned the empty ground. At length he fell, clamped round the spear of Cretan Anxur, and was split apart by his own horses. Showing no pity, the wheel of his deaf chariot crushed him as he lay there on his back screaming, "Spare meI"

The battle wavered, and for a long time the outcome was uncertain.

Then Troilus burst his way into the middle of the enemy. Victory, with its grim banners, was his comrade. Alexander the Great, who came after him, and l^deus, who came before, both had hands as deadly as hiss but Troilus was mightier than either and outclassed both. To put his glory in a nutshell, he was greater than Hector. The Greeks fell back in amazement.

Their hearts, which had felt safe enough before, now quaked at this savage onslaught. Blazing Troilus so renewed the slaughters of his brother, that a great many in their bewilderment believed that Hector had been b o m again.

It was anguish to feel, it was joy to see, the bloody badges handed out by his victorious right hand. From afar he cropped down Nisaean Alcestis, at dose-quarters Idas — the one with his javelin, the other with his sword. It was no disgrace to anyone to fall to so mighty a foe. Some, as if they were competing to die at his hand, rejoiced to be hit by his javelins, and exulted in their deaths.

Ulysses, Diomedes and Nestor had withdrawn from the battle to go and plead with Achilles. He alone, among all those mighty ones,was a fit rival for Troilus. But their entreaties were all in vain. Achilles 173 remained adamant in hia determination to abandon the battle to the

commander-in-chief. He countered their pleas with a soundly reasoned argument! he had stopped fighting* he said* because the cause of the war was shameful* it was a most costly engagement* and there was nothing to be gained from victory#

The three princes were convinced. They returned and urged an

armistice. But he to whom the anguish of a plundered bed was of nearer concern opposed this* as did the Fury and tenacious Fate. Something* however, moved them more strongly than ell destiny and that was the report of Calchas* who had scrutinized the will of the Gods and declared that they should go on fighting#

No time was wasted. Joyfully the Greeks leapt forward with Agamemnon

at their head, Troilus and his panting horses dashed keenly across the plain to meet them. The chariot, exulting in its courageous rider* slung its tracks in the air, and rarely touched the ground. It hurtled on more

swiftly than if it had been drawn by Triptolemus* dragons, Venus* doves, or the lynxes of Bacchus#

The plain grew more dusty, until the murkiness blotted out the day, overwhelming it with a cloud of filth# Greeks and Trojans could not tell

each other apart until the spears, settling the dust of the plain with

showers of blood, brought back the clear sky.

The victory of Troilus

Alcidamas had toppled Leucontes, the Trojan. He had hurled his

spear, huge as a beam, from afar, and now rushed up eager to recover the weapon. He wanted the honour of the dripping blade either to make himself

an object of dread to the Trojans or so as to return in triumph and be 174 welcomed by the Greeks. But a shot from a sling prevented all this and he fell, consoling the Trojan with his joint death.

The nimble spear of Menalcas plunged through Eurypylus. It entered his head from the right and came out through his left socket, bearing the

gouged-out eye on the tip.

Glaucus hit Lycidas with a poisoned arrow at the point where the

neck joins the shoulders. Seeking out a patch of bare throat it plunged

between the edges of his helmet and his shield. It had been dipped in

the waters of Leraa and tormented Lycidas with twofold death: the raging

poison and the gushing blood struggled with one another for the severed

thread of his life.

Chromius killed Thersilochus, Xerxes Craeteones, and Nisus Atys.

Chromius was brought down by a javelin, Xerxes by a battle-axe, and Atys

died more painfully with an arrow in his middle. chased Rhethes,

and Achonteus unseated Lybidas. Ion brought Stem ones low, Argus wounded

Thersander, Pholus slaughtered Achontes, Oebalus Pholus, Oebalus,

Thiodamas Actor, and Lycaeus Thiodamas.

Troilus now towered above them all, more savage than the other

Trojans, and challenging the Greeks with stronger right arm. Although they

trembled at the sword of Antenor, the javelin of Aeneas, and the arrows

of Paris, it was Troilus, and Troilus only, who gained the victory. He

completely outshone the praiseworthy acts of the others, and added every

deed of theirs to his own store of triumph. Bellona gazed in wonder at

the raging hero. She goaded him more gently now, and rejoiced to see that

the apt pupil had outstripped his teacher. Mars himself studied Troilus1

rages and encounters greater than his own. Later when he was urging on 175 the Amazons he called to mind Troilus* valiant deeds. He, a God, had learnt from a mortal.

Umbrasides came raging, battering down the Trojans with his deadly blade. Troilus, with his naked sword, took up the dispute with him.

Savagely he demonstrated death to the bewildered warrior in that part of him which contained his capacity for debate. Vain were Umbrasides*

struggles to extricate himself* the necessity of death could not be refuted.

Next Troilus attacked Ascalaphus, who immediately sped backwards,

not waiting for his spear. Ascalaphus thus eluded his hand, but Troilus*

spear, refusing to return dry, found its mark, and pierced Ascalaphus*

horses, who were all entangled with their master. He was caught in the

3tirrups and was dragged along. He died, drowned in the blood he had drunk.

Satisfied that the man was dead, Troilus triumphantly attacked the

remaining troops, and linked together three deaths with a three-pointed

club. Astilus groaned for his stabbed shoulders, Itys for his chest, and

Antiphates for his empty belly from which the guts had been thrust.

But although Troilus* hand raged savagely, it never struck below

the groin. In his pride Troilus scorned to debase his victories and bring

them low by hacking at the knees. Now as his passion mounted he became

weary of paltry fights with the rank and file. It seemed an immense disgrace

to defile his weapons with vulgar blood, and he avoided robbing the plebs

of their mean little spirits. Instead he raged more fiercely against

the throats of kings and princes, and charged in where the bejewelled ranks

stood thickest. He wounded both sons of Atreus, the one with his javelin,

the other with his pike. A third, Diomedes, received his wound-imparting

sword, and roared out in distress. These men also he would have killed, 176 for his rage never abated, and his courage was constantly with him. But a mob of soldiers was hurled between him and his victims, and cheated his heavy right hand of its finalizing blow. Just a3 there is no death for the Gods, so is it rare for kings; courage is more effective when directed against the poor.

The killing of Troilus

The Greeks were tottering, and now there was no hope of victory, no hope of flight. They lamented the deception of Fate, the lies of the Gods, and false Calchas. They murmured uneasily about running away, but were frightened of being chased. Soon Nestor and Agamemnon himself went and pleaded with Achilles. He refused to take any personal part in the fighting, but nevertheless allowed them to lead his Myrmidons off into battle.

When Troilus saw these troops advancing swiftly and riotously across the plain, he said! "Let us make for them. Who are these new warriors, what new cloud of dust is this? Is Greece sending them here now for the first time? Is she hastening to destroy all her might? The Gods are being kind to met I ran out of men to slaughter and sacrifice to Stygian

Jove, and ray sword dreads idleness. I will see to it that they learn from

Trojan thunderbolts that it was better to have stayed hiding at home."

So saying he hurled his great spear at , the leader of the wedge, and hit his bright and blazing shield. The spear stuck and.

Hipparchus was cast headlong from his mount. He swiftly scrambled to hie feet. Throwing away his spear, and abandoning his shield, he fled before his enemy, who went after him with increased keenness. He ran away to the Greek camp. There he fell slaughtered in front of Achilles himself, and stained the tents with the blood that gushed from his wounds. 177

Achilles gnashed his teeth fiercely, and as the towering rage surged up in him so did he lift high his brawny right arm. Summoning up all his strength, he made ready to deliver the avenging blows. The spear of Troilus had come hurtling on before him, and it hit the left shoulder of his enemy.

But Minerva fooled the weapon and It did no harm. Troilus saw this, and rebuked the hostile cunning of the Goddess. Better fortune attended the second javelin. It nicked Achilles* shoulders, causing pain. The blade, which had sought the man1 s life, was angry when it saw its wound was not fatal.

The third spear, already clasped in his hand, was going to drink more freely of Achilles1 blood. But, before he could launch it, a fir- javelin came hissing in on a steady course. His horse in foreboding reared up high into the air. It is not certain whether he was trying to defend

Troilus, or whether he was merely afraid. However, when the spear struck him, he was glad that he had intercepted the death-blow intended for his master.

His knees gave way and unwillingly he trampled down his master, whom he had thrown to the ground. AlasI he helped in the death of Troilus, who was sprawling on the sand; for while, much against his will, he pressed more heavily on his master, Achilles came running up. He harvested with his steel the neck of Troilus, who was now struggling to his feet. The severed head went bouncing off some distance but the trunk remained, and the hand, not yet stripped of its weapons, moved as if to give fight.

What chance, what fates should I lament? What Gods, o Troilus?

Troilus, you whose help, now buried, bereaved Troy lamented; Troilus, you whose memorials of deserved fame still live; Troilus, you the only one 178 whom the Greeks thought worthy of their praises, you are lying low! You were formerly the hope of oil the people of Troy, hut now that you are dead you have only one to guard your body* Memnon.

Achilles made ready to plunder the mangled corpse, but Memnon drove him off and preserved the body so that the wretched mother could fitly mourn her illustrious child.

The killing of llemnon

Tears Memnon appointed for others, battle for himself; womanly wailing for others, weapons for himself. Seizing his spear he attacked the arrogant victor in defense of the body. He grazed his groin with his spear, his breast with his sword. Angrily Achilles looked back at him and bellowed in fury* "You also the Fates are calling. An earlier guest is waiting for you in the Stygian wood, and together you will swim across the Stygian waters1*

He spoke, and immediately he dug through the innards of the Eastern prince with a lance. The black blood shot out high into the air; and cold

Styx soothed his angry shade. 3 The Trojans ran, now that the captain of the Persians had been killed. The prince of the Myrmidons pressed on more savagely, goaded by his spirit and the wounds he had received. It now took too long to seek, out the trembling princes, and reluctantly he turned his fury on the throats of the plebs; his passion deflected his rage and compelled his avenging right hand to go slumming. He routed the fearful, slaughtered the brave, and trampled on the dead. He redeemed his long idleness in this brief burst of battle. 179

Jupiter had seen the plains of Troy roaring out against the fighting,

and although his eyes were hampered by the dust, he could nevertheless make out the armour of Vulcan, and in it Achilles raging against the enemy.

When he saw all this he rejoiced that he had thrust Thetis from him as his bride: such a son would have given him more to fear than all the piled-up mountains and missiles of Phlegra.

Thetis herself tallied Achilles' score of slaughtered warriors, and,

forgetting his fate, she exulted in her son. Thus did pride overcome her;

she lifted high her waves which marvelled at Achilles' sweet encounters.

And indeed it was a delight to look at them, and it was right to hope for victory, for one hand was doing the routing and an entire army was running

away. Even so do the flying acres give way to the summer wind, when the

fields are white and the crops are full grown.

Last of all the fugitives came lollas, who had been slowed down because his horses had been wounded and his chariot damaged. The gates had

already been shut, and he was crying out to his comrades to let him in. His

entreaties died in his throat. Achilles hurled his spear through him and pinned him to the wood, grafting him, as it were, to the gates.

Achilles wanted to go on with his attack, although the Greek camp was far off, the number of his followers was few, and the city of Troy was

right at hand. In the end he reluctantly gave in to the entreaties of

Minerva, and withdrew.

The gathering of the birds at the tomb of Memnon

Aurora next day could hardly move the light-bearing horses with their

sorrowing chariot, never had she been so prodigal with her dew, never before had she drenched the fields so copiously. The drunken earth paused 180 in amazements it had never before experienced showers like these, so abundant were the tears the mother shed for her son. The whole sky lamented him — • the pale light, the torn clouds, the mutilated loveliness of the heavens. Even Venus* star shone with a diminished splendour.

Tithonus was angry that he was still alive. He cried out for his grave and hated the thought that he would live through the long ages as a cicada.

Memnon*s mother was preparing the last rites. In her desire to give her son a splendid funeral, she had gathered all the odours of Arabia and brought them to his tomb.

Soon a great company of birds came swooping up on attendant wings to perform the obsequies. The one and only Phoenix, and the common swallow, came. The heron hollowed out the marble tomb with its excavating beak; the luscinia smoothed it down; the parrot engraved the epitaph; the nightingale chanted the prayers; the swan howled the lament; the turtle chimed in its throat. The peacock was hastening up to sprinkle the lustral water, but Juno, his mistress, hating all Trojans, called back hia moving wings. The king of birds, the eagle, happened to be returning to Jove with the weapons of the in his grasp. When he saw the funeral he paused in his flight. Laying aside the lightning-bolts, he seized hold of those other flaming brands — the burning incense — and soothed the altars with holy odours. Then when the hunger of the flames had been fed, when the corpse had collapsed and the urn had been filled, the birds returned, and assuaged the grief of Memnon* s mother. They agreed that each year they would hold a solemn festival at the tomb of her son. 181

How Achillas, accompanied by . the son of Nestor, was betrayed

and killed

In another place Ill-starred Hecuba was celebrating sad rituals in honour of her sons. Alas what mighty sorrows had her womb produced 1 Already

she had different tombs to count, already she was bewailing three deaths.

Thus did Hiobe, made childless by the twin quivers, weep for the children of her womb. Ho more lenient was the wrath of Juno* as cruel to Hecuba was Juno, as Apollo and Diana had been to Uiobe. The tears had ceased to flow. The bitter wailing at the tomb was silent now, the tribute of the

eyes was dry. The mother* s grief alone grew to fever pitch; anxiety goaded her sick mind. Her groan for vengeance had treachery to attend its desire.

Outside the walls there stood a shining temple to Apollo. A fragrant herb called thymbraeum covered this temple — whence one of the God1s titles,

11 Thyrabrae an — and shaded his altars, around and above, with its murmuring leaves.

To this holy place Hecuba boldly invited Achilles to his betrayal,

saying she wanted to settle the marriage contract. He came — without arms or attendants. The son of Nestor was his only companion and he had scarcely remembered to put on his sword. The poor wretch left everything behind, as he hastened off to gaze on the love he had longed for.

Indeed the very place, the sanctity of the temple, made it impossible to believe treachery or fear deceit; but to the Trojan adulterer nothing

seemed foul after he had defiled the marriage bed. At his mother's command, he disturbed the peaceful sanctuaries of the Gods, and concealed his cut­ throats behind the very altar. IB 2

The forebodings of Achilles' heart came near to convincing him.

The warlike hero arrived, and three times he halted his fearful steps on the very threshold; three times he withdrew. Three times his hair stood erect with fear; three times, foreseeing his fate, the image of the God wept. Achilles was astonished by his fear, and denied its existence.

At this point the detestable warriors rushed out, with threatening cries and savage hands, and formed an armed ring around him. The brave son of Priam, Paris, was the first to assail him* "Do not turn aside!

Are you going away to enjoy the embraces of the bride you came for? She indeed is on her way, but her anxious mother is delaying her with adornments and gentle commands. She is telling the trembling girl about the kisses of the first night."

Thus he spoke. He brandished his sword, and violently stabbing in the first wounds, he cried again: "How — now — now oh my fellow citizens, if you have any gratitude to those who are lying in their graves, if you have any regard for the fallen, remember that it is with this blood that the Trojan dead await the last atonement."

What could Achilles do? What was there to encourage him? Or where

could he run to? It was base to beg for mercy and in any case he had no hope of obtaining it. But still he quickly protected his ana by bandaging it with his cloak, and, seizing a spear, he beat them off with all the power that naked courage and embattled might can muster. The one hand harvested the masses. Mo tardier was the wrath of Antilochus: he pressed, he attacked, he routed. Eagerness for the last glory and desperate desperation gave him strength. 183

Thus does the rural axe struggle to fell the double oak with a hundred blows. At length, exhausted by its many wounds, the tree begins to totter, and a great destruction of men and forest follows its fall.

Even so did the two heroes stand fast. Although the Trojans wore them down with a thousand shapes of death and there was now no room on their bodies for further wounds, they were no easy conquest until their reckless daring had utterly consumed their shattered swords. At this point the Trojans pressed in closer and brought low the bodies which had not yet fallen, by heaping their shields upon them. Thus they vanquished with the weight of their arms those whom the prowess of their arms could not destroy.

Apollo saw ell this, and bent his avenging bow. Minerva handed him the arrows. But the Father forbade the deed, and blocked the hurtling arrows with his fire, ordaining peace with his thunderbolt. Paris rejoiced, thinking that the heavenly powers approved of what he had done, that his treachery was pleasing to the Gods. The brute would have villainously flung the corpses homeless and naked to the birds and the beasts had not his brother, Helenus, a better man, urged justice and checked his wicked rage.

Alas, what shapes, what expressions of mourning the universal grief of the Greeks assumedl Here there were wails, there tears, when the two corpses returned on the shoulders of the captains* and these two gods of the war were given over to the man-made funeral pyre. The mourning of the

Myrmidons and the Pylians^ was not a lone and separate thing, for all the

Greeks wept in sweet rivalry. Even the grief of Nestor escaped notice, for the entire army grieved as hard as he. If the Father of the Gods were to die, this is how the bereaved stars would lament, and how the Gods would vie against each other with unfamiliar tears. 184

The Greeks no longer had any confidence in victory. Neither the

Fates nor the Gods themselves gave them grounds for hope. Nevertheless

their wrath remained, and they decided to ask the Gods whether to return or whether to maintain the fight. (They would rather have returned, for they had no confidence in fighting^now that Achilles had been killed.)

Calchas went, asked, and listened. He was told that the Greeks would conquer with the help of Achilles* son. This was Pyrrhus, whom the

Fates were presenting - Pyrrhus, whom Lycoraedes, King of Scyros was looking

after in his courts. (Lycomedes had also looked after his father, Achilles, before him, and had disguised him as a girl.)

No time was wasted. The council of nobles passed a resolution and

Menelaus made the fleet ready for sailing. I know, and it is an easy matter to name, the seas which brave Diomedes end cunning Ulysses wearied with their oars on the previous mission,^ and the harbours, straits and cities they sailed by (they skirted , lofty , and Naxos, home of Bacchus) • But Bellona, whom I must sing in this my poem of war, was once again tormenting those who remained behind.

Paris and A.iax kill one another

Fiery Paris had led the Trojans out to battle. He was now the greatest man in the entire army. He made up his mind to equal his brothers with countless triumphs. His spirits rose, and it seemed to him that he stood toller than before. He laid aside his bow, scorning the aid it gave to his death-dealing hands. He used larger weapons* now the flurrying sword, now the massive ash-spear, which delivers it:; blows from afar, flashed out their deodly message. The one dared at close quarters, the other came hurtling down out of the blue. With less skill does the 185

Scythian wield his pole, the Sigambrian his assegai, the Ligurian his

spear, the Mede his javelin, and the Persian his lance. With his sword he killed , with his spear Lamus, with his pike Dorceus: Thoas

screamed in anguish for his face, Lamus for his groin, and Dorceus for his breasts Pylos had sent Thoas, Pleuron Leinus, and sad Celaenae Dorceus.

Ajax, son of Telamon, was raging in another part of the field.

Brandishing a shield made from the hide of seven bulls, he was relentlessly 7 sowing confusion among the ranks of his kinsmen, the enemy. An oak-tree was his spear. It could be thrown by him alone, and only his hand could hold it. No iron garments hid his magnificent body. Either his headlong rage for battle had made him too impatient to put on armour, or else he

considered that d l of him was protected by his broad, round shield. Thus did he rage unaimed, thus did he bear down on the armed. Terror sped the deaths of the fallen, and the mere sight of Ajax in his fury caused the cowardly to die.

Catching sight of him, Paris paused for a moment, wondering whether to go after him with sword or javelin.At length he returned to his arrows, because they were sure to his hand, and never deaf to his wishes. He took the bow from its case, andthe arrows from their quiver. His left hand clasped the bow, his right stretched the string; both checked the weapon as the marksman crouched down and took aim. The arrow touched here the chest with its feathers, there the left hand with its head.

And now it had measured its course, had waylaid the left side of

Ajax, and was dripping with the dews of death. But Ajax' blazing anger was not aware of the mortal chill that had been clamped to his side — not until, with his enemy Paris dead before him, the avenging storm of his 186 raging mind had been satisfied, and had begun to grow calm,

Thu3 were their fortunate hands attended by Gods who favoured their vows, thus did they inflict death in turn. But more fortunate was that hand which took off the very image of murder and crime, the very fountainhead of the war, and caused his adulterous ghost to go down to

Tartarus, Go, you villain, where your villainies are dragging you! The sixth cave of Hell is the one for you. The fourth tract holds lovers, the fifth warriors* they are barred to dead adulterers and bullies who have engaged in foul and treacherous war. The region which encloses the sulphurous chains of the , the region which will plunge you upto your neck and hold you prisoner, the ultimate darkness, the lowest part of the earth — this, o. Paris, calls out for you. May Styx furnish you with its hatred, with its heat, with its tears and

Acheron with its wailings. May Charon force you to go far from the landing stage of Hell, end may Cerberus drive you far from its gateway. And then when at last you have been carried across and pass on your way, may the plagues of Hell rush to meet you, may every cursed torment make a bee­ line for your head* May Tantalus give you his pool, IxLon his wheel,

Tityus his vultures and Sisyphus that rock so prone to run backwards — may these joys be yours until the sea drinks its waters and Iris takes to announcing rainI

The news of Paris* death scorched the frightened ears of Helen and caused her to swoon. For a long time her voice and her tears were stifled by the vastness of her grief. The flight of her consciousness made it look as if she were dead. But water eventually brought her round, and the icy grief returned to her senses* Immediately she gouged her face 187 and tore her hair. She looked round at the swords. Having now good cause to die, she silently pondered whose sword to steal, or whom to beg for weapons. She was resolved to die by her own hand* The Trojan women realized she was in a frenzy and took turns in trying to calm her grief which was contemplating deeds no mortal should dare. Priam himself was gracious to her in her anguish, because she had never despised the

Trojans and longed for the Greeks.

At last there was an end to tears. At the same time exhausted day, having crept to nightfall, went and hid itself in the West. But Diomedes, although he had shattered the enemy and driven them to their very walls, was boiling with rage and was still sowing confusion among the Trojans.

From his station for the night he was challenging than to come out from behind the walls and fight. There was no dicing for sentry duty that night: everyone gladly kept watch by the blazing fires, and not a chin sagged against a breast.

Day had scarcely dawned when the onslaught returned to arms. The

Greeks swooped down on the city. The artillery-engines whirled into action, the penthouses poured out their might, the catapults vomited stones. There, too, was the moving crafty tortoise, and the battering ram poised for its penetrating blow. But the Trojans held back the attackers, now with a hailstorm of rocks, now with a cloudburst of steel, now with a thunderstorm of scattered flame.

The Trojans, however, were frightened now, and they had no confidence in open warfare, in renewing the battle on the plain. They hid themselves inside the city wells, until Penthesilea of the round shield brought her axe-wielding maidens to the support of Priam. She renewed 188

the fight, strengthened the army. Thi3 warrior-girl gave manliness to

the men. The gates were flung open, and, sweeping on, she drove the

fleeing Greeks back to their camp. She aimed her swords at their throats,

and her torches at their sails. Diomedes alone beat off both these

threats, and in no other of his battles did he more splendidly imitate

the actions of his father, lydeus.

The arrival of Pyrrhus

Pyrrhus, having crossed the waters of the Aegean with his ten ships, was now approaching the harbour of Troy. Who would deny that Fortune

joins battle with the Fates? The Fates gave Pyrrhus to the Greeks, while

Fortune gave the Amazons to the Trojans. They advanced to battle in equal

strengths on one side stood the battle-line of the Greeks formed up in detachments; on the other stood the thronging Trojans with the maiden,

Penthesilea, in their midst, and on both sides were the Gods. Sach army brandished its divinitiess the shields of the Athenians falsely proclaimed peace with the olive-branch of Athene, the helmets of the Thracians flashed with the menacing image of their national God, Mars. Mars, in fact, was everywhere; and everywhere was there many a Juno, now lashing the breezes on banners, now sitting on shields, now towering high up on helmets. The

Trojans, on the other hand, were magnificent in images of Oybele and

Idalian Venus. Some defiled with a picture of their own Ganymede the purple wings of the lightning-bearing eagle. It seemed a fine thing to march out like this: it gave them pleasure thus to involve the rival Gods in the conflicts of the warriors.

Conspicuous among them all was the queen of the maiden band, who rode in swiftly at the head of her grim, axe-bearing ranks. No excessive concern for refinement bothered her, beauty did not delight her. Her 189 appearance was rugged, her garments were faded, and she detested the gold with which her arms had been decorated. If you listened to her laughter, or her speech, if you looked closely at her eyes, you would observe nothing frivolous or weak: in everything she did the woman lay hidden.

Pyrrhus moved to the encounter. He inflamed the avenging hordes to battle as he rode at the head of his Myrmidons in a panting chariot. He was fighting, not as a soldier for the generals, not as the avenger of

Menelaus, but for himself. Hating an enemy that had earned his hatred, he, the avenger of his father, was wearing his father1 s armour; but his still-growing shoulders refused the mighty weight, the helmet demanded a greater neck, and his smaller hand could hardly enfold the spear.

Penthesilea first sought out Menethus the Mycenaean with her blazing right hand. He was hurling abuse at everyone, a lion in his mouth, but a rabbit in his heart. He stood stockstill in amazement, grinding his teeth, to hear the trumpets of a woman, for in the Peloponnesus women are timid creatures and never bear arms. He did not know that both men and women grow violent because of the cold to which they are bom, and that the Sarmatian climate breeds anger in the hearts of its children. He embarked on hi3 abuse, saying: "For shame, o glorious Mars, a hand scarcely suited to the fingering of thread is bearing your banners and sissyfying our battle. Now, by heaven, you will stand, you perjured towers of Troyt Girls are brandishing their baskets and their spinning, they are lobbing their distaffs. Such are the soldiers, such the weapons in which

Troy puts its trust I But we Greeks will not tolerate all this: although it is a base thing for men to pound timid girls to the ground, I never­ theless will go to give battle." 190

So he spoke, and the maiden, slow to follow the loquacity of her

sex, but swift to battle, replied with only a javelin. And what a wretched death he died I The spear spiked him to the ground where he fell, but his feet remained in the stirrups. The horse struggled furiously to gallop away* the blade of the spear stopped it. And so in a grim tussle horse and spear tore the unlucky body to pieces.

No less furiously did Pyrrhus lay into Adrastus. Adrastus was a descendant of the Gods, but he gave up his life to his mortal enemy. Soon the examples of the captains kindled other and lesser hands on both sides.

Mho could tell all the individual deeds? If I were to round up all the waves of Sicily, all the com-ears of the African harvest, all the bees of

Hybla, I still would not have similes enough for all those wounds, for all that massive slaughter. Never before had Machaon or Podalirius needed so great a supply of herbs. The k illin g o f P en th esilea

Now, having devastated the rank and file, Fortune undertook to bring the two champions into conflict. Thus Pyrrhus and Penthesilea, spent no long time in preparing for the fight, but moved swiftly to obey. Formerly the confused mass of humanity had not allowed these daring souls to get at one another: now they could move more freely on the plain, for the numbers had been thinned.

First savage Penthesilea fell upon Pyrrhus. Mars came to his aid, and Bellona, not slow to help her sex, swooped to support Penthesilea*

Minerva and Juno favoured neither, for though Pyrrhus was a Greek,

Penthesilea was a woman like them. 191

How the two combatants rode back some distance from each other* They placed lance and sword at the ready and spurred their horses to a gallop. The lances, however, squandered their first rage* Part of them stuck embedded in th e sh ield s, p a rt scattered onto the f ie ld , p a rt the right hands clutched. Soon the more c e rta in fu ry of ste e l fla re d out as they closed w ith their swords. The maiden was the first to rise in her saddle and strike. Tearing off Pyrrhus' helmet plumes with a glancing blow, the ivory descended onto the shield. Here it slowed down, hardly managing to penetrate the boss. While Penthesilea was pulling out the sword which had been thrust too deep, Pyrrhus pierced her left breast with his blade. And so the mighty warrior maid, the high glory of her sex, fell, out-pointed in the contest of the swords. She gathered her purple cloak and flowing garments about her body, and, raging against the Fates, she died. The Trojans ran away. Confusion reigned among the Amazons, as fe a r, the weakness of their sex, returned easily to them. On all sides was the te rr o r and fe a r o f an army in f lig h t. Cowards were fig h tin g one another to be the first to get away. No one ran to the aid of fallen brothers, and courage did not look back at sons crying for help* Some had already gained the city, others were abandoned as plunder to the pursuing Greeks. But a few, when they saw that the dangers were unavoidable, regained their courage, and died honourable deaths. Troy is betrayed and destroyed The thread of the last basket of the Fates had been spun and the promised hour was at hand. The tenth year of the war was bringing in the day all the Greeks hoped for. A thousand presages, a thousand threats, of 192 evil flared in the sky. Comets with bloody beards prophesied fearful things, and the sun and the moon came now double, now not at all. 'lever before had the wrath of Jove been more frequent, never before had more portents been seen in unheard of shapes: rocks wept, the images of the Gods dripped with sweat, dogs lowed, and mothers gave birth to monsters.

All this was a clear guarantee of what was to come. Calchas revealed the will of the Gods, and inflamed the Greeks. Some wanted a general assault on the walls by land; others were for bringing in the fleet so as to attack the city from every quarter. The Trojans, on the other hand, urged that Helen should be given back in return for peace, and that there should at last be a treaty to end the long war. This is what Antenor urged, and , who was more eloquent than he. This too is what softly-spoken Aeneas urged, the son of Anchises, the gentlest of them all. They complained that kings had fallen, and that few were the survivors. Hot only was Troy and the land of Phrygia plunged in grief, but all that lay between the gem-bearing Hydaspes and the algae of the Scythian sea, lamented the loss that the war had caused. Fortune was favouring the Greeks* the son :>f Achilles was fighting for them, Nestor wa3 advising them, and Ulysses was using his cunning on their behalf. Moreover, an avenger's wrath was inflam ing Menelaus. Amphiraachus could not tolerate this line of argument. He rejected peace. He called for a return to arms, lie ordered them to open the gates. He had made up his mind that the Trojans would either triumph, or, dying nobly, win eternal fame. (He would have been equal to his brothers, indeed would have been greater than Hector, if only he had finished with his boyhood, if only he had reached his fighting years.) 193

Priam, moreover, thought along the same lin e s as Araphiraachus.

Although he was well advanced into old age, and his scanty grey hairs refused a helmet's weight, the Icing did not droop in the old man, the soldier flourished in the king, and his unwarlike wrinkles dared the contests of battle.

Nevertheless he suspected fickleness among his councillors. Thi3 lessened his courage, and forced fear upon him. Antenor had been the prime mover in giving the orders for war, and now he was urging a treaty; Aeneas had gone to plunder Sparta, and now he was voting to return the booty and wanted to earn the favour of the enemy* And so Priam made ready to dislodge treachery with treachery and to banish deceit with deceit. He planned his moves in this order: He would perform the sacrifices and then invite the dissident councillors to dine with him. While they were drinking together, Amphimachus would rush in with an aimed band which had been lying in ambush, and swiftly overwhelm them while they were defenceless. With Antenor and his friends out of the way, the war effort would continue unhampered, and victory would not be slowed down by any pointless arguments. Meanwhile, the peace party, hating the war and lamenting the obstinacy of Priam, entered into a conspiracy. Perjured faith was sworn to the service of perfidy, as Antenor hatched unspeakable evil. Ucalegon, Amphidamas, Dolon and Polydamas d islo y a lly accepted th e plans of th is man for the destruction of their doomed city. Even Aeneas fell in with this great wickedness. Polydamas went as their envoy to the Greeks and revealed that they would betray the citadel. He demanded that the Greeks should make a separate 194 peace with the conspirators in return for the pact of treachery. He promised to let the Greeks secretly into the city, Nestor feared, Ulysses baulked at, and Pyrrhus rejected, the underhandedness. The uncertainty of the promises made the first two reluctant* they feared they were being deceived, Pyrrhus, on the other hand, was sure of victory and refused to befoul his triumph with a war fought by night. Because their suspicions were troubling them, the Greek captains kept Polydamas in custody, and entrusted the Argive, , with the task of going as an envoy to see if any trust should be given to the promises, Sinon visited the homes of the Trojans and he rid himself of his doubting fears when both Anchises and Antenor backed the offers of Polydamas, And so, calling on the Gods as witnesses, the Greeks entered into a bargain with the conspirators and happily ordered them to have no fear for their persons, their property, or their people. In fact, they promised them not only Pergaraum but also the countless cities of Asia and the people who lived in them. They sealed the treaty with the giving of gifts. Happy and reassured, Polydamas went away. Cautiously he instructed the Trojans with the details of the plan* what route the enemy would take to the city, when they would come, and what would be the signal for the attack . There was a secret gate, inscribed with the head of Pegasus, which would offer silent, treacherous access. By it the Greeks would entey, to it the captains would come. The sun plunged its chariot into the sea, and now the Greeks were ready to move, A brightly burning torch was seen by the warriors, and this was their sign. They formed up and marched off, some doubtful, some confident. 195

0 grim counsel of evil men, o crimes never before experienced in all

the h isto ry of the world! The land of Asia was flo u rish in g , Troy was

flourishing with all it3 soldiers, mighty in its king, safe in its defenders, and fearing neither the Gods nor the Fates. The victory of the Greeks would have soon gone up in smoke and Calchas been proved a liar. But a foe within and — most detestable of all things — a serpent in the bosom made Calchas a prophet. It was a citizen who begrudged the fortune of his land, it was a c itiz e n who opened up h is c ity . The hinge made no murmur, the sh ield s, the spears made no sound: the horde knew how to maintain silence. Every­ thing was cloaked in secrecy, nothing was out in the open. Pyrrhus was the first to gain the city. Reluctant to rage by treachery and conquer by stealth, he roared out: "Now draw your weapons to meet us I Up and at us, Trojans! How long will you wallow in slumber! Ho safety remains. Look, we Greeks have opened the gates and are pouring in! If anger brings anyone to clash with me, the excellent work of Mars will not be condemned to the shades — th e flames of your c ity w ill provide lig h t enough!■ He spoke, and seizing a torch, he was the first to set fire to Troy: he wanted to throw some light on his deeds. The others followed his example and raged with steel and flame: the fire blundered about on its trail of devastation and swords arrived in the middle of deep sleep.

0 savage night, o time of darkness indeed, o night of disaster, conftision, sorrow, ambush and brutality — o night to be wailed of in high tragedy or slandered in remorseless satire — you alone triumphed, as you

reaped in the rewards of all those countless days of sterile striving. Even if I could put my tongue to as many images as Proteus had shapes, even if lim itless wisdom should increase my power to sing, I could still not give 196 an account of the slaughter and the fire and the grief which that one night conjured up for the Trojans. Some evaded the swords in the flames, others the flames in the swords. To run from death meant only to run into death: that end alone was feared which first flashed before the senses. It was granted to many to suffer double anguish and die both types of death. This grim form of disaster had not been known in former ages. The Trojans were asleep, the Greeks were awake, and filled with hate. No hand was thrown up in self-defense, and so the hand of the killer had a rich array of death to choose from — it could take throat, or breast, or face, or spread the wounds out all over the body. Some Trojans, however, had lingered late at their tables, or had been yarning the n ig h t away. When th e uproar spread th e news th a t the Greeks were running riot in the city, and they saw the fires, they seized arms to defend themselves. But they had been walled in by flames on all sides, and were stupefied to see that their escape had been cut off. Trying in vain to get out of their blazing houses, and lamenting their cruel deaths, they perished along with the arms they had seized. The death of Priam Shall I recount the slaughter, or set out the murders one by one? The hands of the Greeks were wrapped in darkness, and the deaths took place in the gloom: the ignorance of that night presses heavily on my shade- enshrouded Muse. Ill-starred Priam had fled to the temple of Jupiter and was embracing the altar. He no longer had any confidence in his strong right aim, and his rage had given way to fear. Nevertheless, he stood tall, and his face was proud. No plea, no tears, no look of base entreaty disfigured the king.

To him the savage Pyrrhus said: "Will you give back the Spartan woman to 197 the Greeks, will you give back your daughter-in-law? Or do you prefer battle? Are you not yet frightened of fighting? Why do you clutch your ivory Gods, you who are hated by the Gods? You offended them q u ite of o your own free w ill, whereas X am bound by your example* My father fell as an offering to Apollo: you will fall to Jove*" So he spoke. Not finding sufficient enjoyment in the slaughter of one who had fallen to the ground, he grabbed hold of his white hair and dragged him up by the head to meet th e wound. There was no long stru g g le . Pyrrhus' hand plunged the sword into the old man's stomach. His spirit, grown dull, went lightly down to the shades. His body, slumping onto the steel, helped to speed his death. And so at last Priam died, full of days, happy in his old age, and joyful in his youth, if only Fortune had kept faith with him, if only it had remained constant. After the soft winds of summer winter stings harder, after joy sorrow hurts more; and so there is nothing better than never to have been fortunate. When Hecuba received a sure report of this fresh disaster, she blundered out, and, stopping for nothing, she dared her way through the swords. With torn hair and bleeding breasts she went seeking and lamenting her husbands "Which of you Greeks will give me back the body of that poor old man to weep over? Or have you taken the one I seek, and scattered him as prey to the birds and beasts?" The moiling ranks fell back before this woman in her fury, they gave way '■■o her. When she found the king, she flung herself on him, and cried out over and overt "Alas, my own!" There followed a long silence. Then she sighed "AlasI", and again “my own!" Thus often and for long she 197

the Greeks, will you give back your daughter-in-law? Or do you prefer battle? Are you not yet frightened of fighting? Why do you clutch your ivory Gods, you who are hated by the Gods? You offended them quite of your own free w ill, whereas I am bound by your example. My father fell

as an offering to Apollot you will fall to Jove, 11 So he spoke. Not finding sufficient enjoyment in the slaughter of one who had fallen to the ground, he grabbed hold of his white hair and dragged him up by the head to meet the wound. There was no long struggle, Pyrrhus' hand plunged the sword into the old man’s stomach. His spirit, grown dull, went lightly down to the shades. His body, slumping onto the steal, helped to speed his death. And so at last Priam died, full of days, happy in his old age, and Joyful in his youth, if only Fortune had kept faith with him, if only it had remained constant. After the soft winds of summer winter stings harder, after joy sorrow hurts more; and so there is nothing better than never to have been fortunate. When Hecuba received a sure report of this fresh disaster, she blundered out, and, stopping for nothing, she dared her way through the swords. With torn hair and bleeding breasts she went seeking and lamenting her husband: "Which of you Greeks w ill give me back the body of that poor old man to weep over? Or have you taken the one I seek, and scattered him as prey to the b ird s and beasts?" The moiling ranks fell back before this woman in her fury, they gave way to her. When she found the king, she flung herself on him, and cried out over and overt "Alas, my own!" There followed a long silence. Then she sighed "Alas!", and again "my own!" Thus often and for long she 198

uttered short cries, until finally with difficulty she strung together an unbroken lament:

Hecuba’s lament "What groans, what lamentations will you give to match the abundance of my tears, o attendant grief? I do not say this to reproach you* already my eyes have failed* Exhausted by storms of weeping, they are misty and ray sight has grown dull* The blow came to me a little while ago, and till this moment my anguish has been tongueless and still* "0 heaven, o Gods — whom in my anger I have spared, not ranting away at you like a woman — on what charge have I been condemned to this punish­ ment and the great evils that attend it? If I was worthy of death, why am I still alive? lias, nothing is sadder to the grief-stricken than long life I Shall I not lament ray marriage bed, and the children I conceived? Most cruel was I to marry, most unlucky was I to conceive. Priam had the power to enjoy an untroubled reign, but when he married me he married also my destructive Fates; and the wrath of heaven never abated. Indeed many a time did I conceive and give birth: with evil destiny was I both wife and mother* Now, bereft of the children I shaped in my womb, and stripped of my husband, I have learned to contend with two-fold lamentation. Many are the deaths I have seen, many are the eyes I have had to close in death. "But, dear Hector, and you, my Troilus, while you lived, Troy stood long secure. I will say nothing of Paris, the wicked firebrand of my womb."

So Hecuba spoke, and gazed in wonder a t th e f ir e s , which th e flames of were unable to equal, and which Home refused to Nero. Then she said again* "Did I give birth to these fire-brands?^ Did I give birth to them, and yet the thunderbolts were idle? Was this the offspring of my 199 womb, and yet the greedy earth did not gape open to swallow me? Did I swell with this scourge, and yet the threatening floods spared me? Rather do you, you whom in my impiety I have injured, you for whom I shaped this sorrow in my womb — rather do you,0 Trojans, rush and tear apart my guilty body. But it is too late for anger now: then was the time for it, when I had the dream. "And you, o glorious husband, the companion of my bed and my tomb, with you will I go down among the shades. 0 wretched me I Are the enemy failing in their duty? Where are the furious warriors? Where is Pyrrhus? Give me your spears, soldiers, give them to me; these old hands will be strong enough to cause my death. Or shall I as a slave learn to fear the young women of Greece?" So she spoke. Pity was wenched from the hearts of the Greeks, and they a l l broke down and wept. The division of the spoils And now the sun had stripped away the dew-depositing shadows of the night, but it was still overcast. Of his own accord Phoebus lay hidden. Although he was Troy*s enemy, it was as if he was mourning for the walls which he had built and which had now been overthrow. All the plunder, the profit of the night, was being gathered in the temple of Minerva. Now you could measure the misfortune of fallen Troy, as you gazed at all those riches: the arms, the gods, the finery, the jewels, the ivory, and the bronze vessels. Never before had victorious Fortune puffed herself up with a greater store of trophies. After the just largesse of the captains had satisfied the masses, and the bestowing hand had glutted their greedy hopes, from every quarter the cry arose: "Let us return in joy to Greece I* Now that the war had at last 200

been put aside, their natural love for their country reasserted itself. The prophet set the day and hour for sailing away; and in the meantime the Greeks had leisure to wander about and gaze at the smoking ruins of Troy. Some, their hatred and fuiy not yet spent, plundered the Trojan

hills, and carried off the cypress trees for the funeral pyres, the laurels for the sacrifices, the alders for the ships. How Polyxena was restored to Pyrrhus. Aeneas went off into exile, and Antenor ascended the throne Presently there was an end to the prayers and the funeral mounds. The fleet had been repaired and was ready for ploughing its journey back across the sea. But the South Wind rolled the waters against them, and an unexpected storm lashed them with the double scourge of wind and rain. The

augur warned the returning army to sacrifice additional sirt-offerings to the Gods, as they were not yet appeased. The captains set about carrying out th ese commands, and Pyrrhus suddenly remembered th a t Polyxena had not yet been found. He ground his teeth, and made savage threats to the Trojans. Polyxena, it turned out, had been entrusted by Hecuba to Aeneas, who had hidden her in the house of his father, Anchises. 0 outrage beyond measure! — the ill-starred plunder was restored to the loathsome Greeks. Aeneas suffered unjust punishment for having tried to save the maiden. He was banished, and sailed away with his companions in the twenty-two ships which Paris had once used for the abduction of Helen. Antenor was awarded the city, and, having been chosen king, he increased the glory of his realm by uniting in a happy bond of alliance with the Gabines. Aeneas wanted to overthrow Antenor and wrest the sceptre from him. He conceived the bold plan of making war on him after the 201 departure of the Greeks* To this end he toured Arcadia and the cities of , begging aid* But none was forthcoming. And so, lamenting his vain exertions to start a new war, the exile sailed off into the waters of the Adriatic* Here he built a new city called Corcyra and ruled content with his little realm. He had been promised that he would one day be the founder of Rome* Lamenting Hecuba, and Cassandra, whose prophecies had never been believed by the Trojans, went to the Chersonese* Helenus followed Andromache, who had accompanied them. Thus Troy, through i t s ric h lo s s , filled realms with nations and cities with people* The return of the Greeks after the destruction of the city And now, having accomplished the destruction of Troy, the Greek kings were sailing back across the , exulting in their Trojan spoils* No storm disturbed their journey and they ploughed on sedately together. But then their prison doors broke open, and the South Winds came roaring out unchecked. The tumult in the heavens either drove the ships from the sea, o r sank them in the waves* The strag g lin g f le e t o f the Locrians was carried along in a whirlwind, and hurled onto the rocks, where it perished*

The royal vessel in which Ajax was sailing, was shattered by lightning* Ajax himself tried in vain to keep afloat on the deep waves* When another Ajax, Ajax the son of Nauplius, heard that the victorious Greeks were returning, he grieved that his brother Falaroedes had been killed, and that his glories had been forgotten. Stricken with spiteful malice, he roused the women of Greece to unspeakable war* Piling up the causes for excessive wickedness, he saidt "Alas, you poor wretches, what 202 good have your sacrifices and your tearful prayers done you* what good that you have preserved the rights of your husbands all these many years and have never allowed your fidelity to be disgraced? They have indeed come back, but the story is that a bevy of Trojan girls has come with them, and that the little barbarian prisoner will soon press the former marriagebed to her service* Come then, you women of Greece, remember the women of 12 Lemnos, and dare an equal deed, for your cause is equal 1 Are you frightened, you spineless creatures? A whore who is queen gives orders to girls who are native born!" He had scarcely finished speaking when a rumour came that the Greek captains had arrived. Insurrections suddenly broke out everywhere. How seldom are the Gods constant until the end! Though a man is for a long time lucky, though he is greater than anyone else, why then in his foolishness does he exult? His last days make him fortunate or otherwise* See, Agamemnon, Lord of Argos, has nothing after all his sorrows in the war, after all his sufferings on the sea* His wife cut his victorious throat, the adulterer dared to lie in wait and murder the general. When Diomedes returned, sad Aegiale gave him not kisses, smiles and endearments, but war* Other Greek women devised sim ilar wild home-comings* They e ith e r welcomed their husbands treacherously, or with armed might barred their cities against their return* When those who had thus been banished had withdrawn into exile and had gathered at Corinth, they made preparations to take a combined force and avenge the wrongs that each of them had suffered* Nestor opposed this move, and sought peace for his nation with a better plan* He urged them to bend their fellow-citizens with entreaties, and not to make trial of 203 them with arms, lest their private quarrel should bring about public destruction and the ruin of the nation. The kings stooped to entreaty and thus bloodlessly averted civil war. Now that peace had returned, ancient piety and loyalty did not tolerate the war-cries of the women, and returned to their former lords. To all of them their kingdoms now gladly flung open their gates. Ulysses, on his voyage back to his native Same, endured the singing of the Sirens, the waters of Sicily, the hospitality of Polyphemus, and the tables of . At last he reached Dulichium, and, his many liaisons behind him, he returned to the chaste arms of his wife, Penelope. But sleep brought him presages of death, and fearful dreams threatened him with the swords of Telegonus and the spears of his kin. Thus did the man who despised Circe die, the victim of their son; but he was strong even in his old age and had been the conqueror of teeming Asia. When the news flashed abroad that Helen had returned to her native Mycenae, Europe rushed to meet her in dense hordes, marvelling at the new daughter for Plisthenes, and burning to see the face that had destroyed Asia. And indeed she was proud that she had inflamed princes, had sent the world clashing into battle, and had won the notorious honour of shameful beauty. This, then, is the last of my lament concerning the downfall of Troy* I have unravelled the confused abridgements of ancient truth, and that is the end of it. Now, even though my invention is sometimes scanty, I am tuning the strings of that other lyre, the lyre of sacred song. The wars of call, and I must sing of then in grander style.13 It is now my prayer to tell of Christian battle-lines and the banners of our Church, 204 the might of the Cross and its largesse. No panting Cirrha will pour these measures into met a more glorious Apollo w ill come down from heaven and fill the void of my trusting heart. You also, great Father,m y inspiration once already, will now spread other sails for me on a second sea. This present work was, of course, merely an entertainm entt I sh a ll now become more serious and write serious things, worthy of your chaste attention. If your radiant integrity gives approval to ray venture, I shall not fear the stinging of the gnat or the whining of the drone.

Live, my book, and flourish freely, with none to chop you down! If, however, they hurt you, remember that nothing is too high for envy's reach. When the grunting of the vicious slants acidulous laughter at you, when they yearn to lacerate you with their tongues, o may you be worthy of their envy. Envy spurs you to the heights. You feed it while you live and k ill it when you die. Here ends the sixth book of the Iliad of Dares Phrygius. NOTES

BOOK I

1* An anti-Homeric thrust. Homer lied. Joseph, basing his epic on the "historical" account of Dares, will tell the truth. 2. Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury. See Glossary.

3 . Thomas a Becket. See Glossary.

4* Joseph obviously disapproved of Thomas1 immediate successor to the See of Canterbury, Richard (d. 1184). There were a number of possible reasons for this. Richard had received his education at, and had subsequently been admitted to, the monastery of Christ Church, Canterbury. It was the monks of Christ Church who had been painful thorns in the flesh of Baldwin, Joseph's patron and uncle. First they had spiritedly opposed his election to the See, and had only reluctantly accepted him after the personal intervention of the King, Henry II. Then a bitter feud broke out between the two, for Baldwin was much opposed to their independence and luxurious living. Before long most of the princes, cardinals, bishops and great monasteries of western Europe had taken one side or the other in the quarrel. Again the king of England — this time Richard — had to intervene personally, and a compromise of sorts was arranged in November 1189. (In March 1190 Baldwin set out to join the Third Crusade.) Monkish writers in general seem to have had harsh things to say about Richard, whom they regarded as the enemy of their independence, and traitor to those liberties of the Church which Becket had so zealously defended. William Hunt in his article in D.N.B. (XVI, p. 1079) comments as follow s * "While [his character] was probably not o f an heroic sort, it seems likely that the line that he took in ecclesiastical matters, and specially with respect to clerical immunities, was the result of conviction rather than sloth or timidity, and that he saw no hann to the church in the king's endeavours to prevent it from becoming a separate body, independent of secular power." Hunt points out that Richard was capable of winning the friendship of such men as Giraldus Cambrensis and Peter of Blois. 5. In 1188 Archbishop Baldwin induced Joseph to promise to accompany him on the Third Crusade. Joseph's epic, Antiocheiq. of which only one short fragment survives, is generally believed to have dealt with this Third Crusade and to have celebrated the exploits of Baldwin and Richard the Lion Heart (see, for example, F.J.E. Raby, A History of Secular Latin Poetry in the Middle Ages. II, p. 132). RLddehough,

205 206

however, argues that it probably dealt with the First Crusade, which, as he points out, accomplished the capture of .Antioch. Richard had nothing to do with Antioch, and its capture in the First Crusade was a far more positive achievement than Richard, with all his bravery, ever managed. (Dissertation, pp. 9-10).

6 . Here begins the actual narrative. This is line 52 in the Latin poem.

7. The Argo had no images of the gods painted on its stern and prow. It also had no s a ils .

8 . Joseph apparently means Hercules. This is the interpretation of the P a ris Commentary. (For a note on the P a ris Commentary, see Introduction, p. 49.) 9. For a very brief account of Jason's exploits at Colchis, see under J&aon in the Glossary. 10. Joseph apparently thinks Peloponnesus is the name of a town. The author of the Paris Commentary shares this mistake with him, for his observation is "nomen eat opidi*1 (RLddehough, p. 33,2). L ater (p. 189) Joseph seems to realise that Peloponnesus is an area, not a city. 11. A reference to one of the exploits that Jason performed at Colchis to win the golden fleece. See further under Jason in the Glossary. 12. Jove. It was Jove's prerogative to wield thunder and lightning. 13. After the expulsion of Saturn, Jupiter and his brothers divided the universe by casting lots. Jupiter obtained heaven, Neptune the sea, and Dis the underworld. 14. The wild animals in the forest. Phoebe — Diana — (they were to later minds the same) was a virgin huntress, and the goddess of wild animals. See further under Diana in the Glossary. 15. Laomedon, the king of Troy, had employed Apollo and Neptune to build the walls of his city, and had subsequently refused to pay then for their services. 16. The Atlantic. See further under Atlas in the Glossary. 17. "Perjury"* Laomedon had made false promises to Apollo and Neptune. (See note 15 supra.) "For blazing the trail to crime"* the Greeks had invented ships and had then used them first for plundering the golden fleece, and then for bringing war against the Trojans.

18. An olive-branch was a token of peace. Athene (Minerva) in her contest with (Neptune) for the land of Attica had brought the olive-tree into existence. 207

19. Like the royal palace of Priam, the Tower of Babel aspired to "reach unto heaven" (Gen. XI, 4 .). The Lord Jehovah confounded the tongues of the builders of the Tower, with the result that they could not understand each other. They were then scattered "abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth* and they left off to b u ild the c ity ." (Gen. XI, 7-8).

2 0 . Otus and Ephialtes, two brother giants, rebelled against the gods. They tried to pile Ossa on Olympus, and Pelion on Ossa, in order to climb to heaven. Jupiter destroyed them with thunderbolts. 21. The vine. The ancients used elms as liv in g props f o r th e ir v in es. See, e.g., Georgies I, 2. 22. The P aris Commentary gives th is explanation* "Ju p iter was worshipped in Tyre in the shape of a bull, because of fiuropa; in India in the shape of a ram, because when was returning from that country and his array thirsted, Jupiter appeared to him in the shape of a ram, and, striking the ground with his hoof, brought forth a spring of c le a r w ater." (RLddehough, p. 337.)

BOOK II

1. English students of the twelfth century seem to have been notorious f o r th e ir heavy drinking. See A.L. Poole, From Domesday Book to Magna Cartq. pp. 241-2. Riddehough (p. 307, n. 11) draws attention to "the stock epithet potatrix Angliq. as found, for instance, in Geoffrey of Vinsauf." 2. The source of the quotation is Statius, Theb. . II, 4-29, where the words are uttered by Eteocles. 3. Joseph apparently does not realize he has not given us Hector's speech. For this we must go to Dares Phrygius, where ve read* Hector responded by saying that he would carry out his father's wishes and avenge the death of his grandfather Laomedon, and other in ju s tic e s the Greeks had done to the Trojans. The Greeks, he said, must pay for their crimes. He feared, however, that the Trojan expedition would fail, for Europe had bred many warlike men who would come to Greece's aid, while they themselves, who lived in Asia, had spent their time in idleness and built no ships. (Frazer, The Trojan War, p. 138.) 4.* The laurel was the tree sacred to Apollo. The association seems to stem from the time Apollo destroyed the Python in the laurel groves o f Tempe.

5• See Bk. I , n . 13. 207

19* Like the royal palace of Priam, the Tower of Babel 3 apired to "reach unto heaven" (Gen. XI, 4)• The Lord Jehovah confounded the tongues of the builders of the Tower, with the result that they could not understand each other. They were then scattered "abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth* and they left off to build the city." (Gen. XI, 7-3).

2 0 . Otus and Ephialtes, two brother giants, rebelled against the gods. They tried to pile Ossa on Olympus, and Pelion on Ossa, in order to climb to heaven. Jupiter destroyed them with thunderbolts. 21. The vine. The ancients used elms as liv in g props fo r th e ir v in es. See, e.g., Georgies I, 2. 22. The P a ris Commentary gives th is explanation* " Ju p ite r was worshipped in Tyre in the shape of a bull, because of Europa; in India in the shape o f a ram, because when Dionysus was retu rn in g from th a t country and his anny thirsted, Jupiter appeared to him in the shape of a ram, and, striking the ground with his hoof, brought forth a spring of clear water." (Riddehough, p. 337.)

BOOK I I

1. English students of the twelfth century seem to have been notorious fo r th e ir heavy drinking. See A.L. Poole, From Domesday Book to Magna Carta, pp. 241-2. Riddehough (p. 307, n. 11) draws attention to "the stock epithet potqtrix Anglia, as found, for instance, in Geoffrey of Vinsauf." 2. The source of the quotation is Statius, Theb. . II, 429, where the words are uttered by Eteocles. 3. Joseph apparently does not realize he has not given us Hector’s speech. For this we must go to Dare3 Phrygius, where ve read* Hector responded by saying that he would carry out his father’s wishes and avenge the death of his grandfather Laomedon, and other injustices the Greeks had done to the Trojans. The Greeks, he said, must pay for their crimes. He feared, however, that the Trojan expedition would fail, for Europe had bred many warlike men who would come to Greece's aid, while they themselves, who lived in Asia, had spent their time in idleness and built no ships. (F razer, The Tro.1an tfar, p. 138.)

4 . The la u re l was the tr e e sacred to Apollo. The asso ciatio n seems to stem from the time Apollo destroyed the Python in the laurel groves o f Tempe.

5. See Bk. I , n . 13. 208

6 . Juno is her© referring to her quarrel with Jove about who derived the most pleasure from the sexual act — the man or the woman. They submitted their dispute to the prophet, Teiresias, who had been a woman for seven years. Teiresias1 rep ly was as follows* If the joys of love be counted as ten, Thrice three go to women, and only one to men. Juno was so angered by his answer that she struck him with blindness. Note how in Joseph Juno hints of the danger that lies in awarding judgment against her, when she says, "I will be silent about what happened on that occasion". 7. It was, of course, Venus, naked in the arms of Mars, who was snared in the 'chain-net 1 Juno has just mentioned.

8 . The reference here is to 's fable of the woodsman and the golden axe (Fable 308 in K. von Halm’ s Aisopeion Mython Svnagoge. L eipzig, 1852) • A woodsman drops h is axe in to th e w ater. Mercury comes to h is aid and retrieves a golden axe. The woodsman says it is not his. For his honesty he is given his own axe and the golden axe.

9. Bacchus was identified with the old Italian deity, Liber. "Liber" is also a Latin adjective meaning "free".

1 0 . Minerva invented the flute. She looked into a stream to see why Juno and Venus had been smiling behind their hands while she was playing it. The sight of her puffed-out cheeks so angered her that she threw away the flute, and laid a curse on whoever picked it up. 11. Among whom, of course, was Mars, the son of Juno. 12. The P a ris Commentary explains as follows* "Harmonia . . . was tra n s­ formed into a serpent, despite the fact that Juno and Pallas ought to have opposed this transformation — Juno on account of Mara, whose daughter Harmonia was, Pallas on account of the blood-relationship." (Riddehough, p. 349).

13* Most probably a reference to the prophecy that if Jove had a son by Thetis, this son would supplant him. 14* When Paris was a cowherd on Mt. Ida he discovered a champion bull among the cattle he was tending, and offered to set a golden crown on any bull that could defeat his champion. Mars took on the shape of a bull and was victorious. Paris unhesitatingly placed the crown on Mars' horns, and this impartiality so amazed the Gods that Jove subsequently chose Paris to arbitrate between the three goddesses. 15. The Paris Commentary explains as follows* "It was as if Hesione had been abducted because of Juno, for i t was Juno who had goaded Hercules into making war on Tray." (Riddehough, p. 351.) 16. A reference to the Palladium, the wooden image of Pallas Athene which was supposed to protect Troy from being taken so long as it remained in the city. 209

17* Marsyas, a satyr, picked up the flute which Minerva had invented and then flung away (n. 10). Apollo, jealous of the reputation as a musician that Marsyas gained for himself with this flute, challenged him to a contest, which he then proceeded to win by unfair means* He gave further evidence of a deplorable lack of sportsmanship by taking hideous revenge on his defeated rival, whom he flayed alive, subsequently nailing his skin to a tree*

BOOK I I I

1 * It is just possible that this is an intentional oxymoron. Paeans were rig h tly hymns sung in honour of Apollo. 2. Apollo, the god of prophecy. 3* Thyestes seduced , the wife of his brother, Atreus, king of Mycenae. Atreus banished Thyestes, but then re c a lle d him, and invited him to a banquet where he set before him a dish containing Thyestes1 own children. The sun (Phoebus Apollo) is supposed to have been so disgusted by Atreus* deed that he fled backwards in the sky (v. Lucan, Pharsalla. I, 543-54/)* Atreus was the father of Agamemnon and Menelaus* 4-. Cyhele, the "Great Mother", the Asiatic goddess of the powers of Nature, was worshipped on Mt. Ida (see p. 75 of this present translation) by mad, noisy, and castrated priests called Galli. Cybele's connection with the pine-wood from which Paris1 ship had been built was two-fold* First, it had grown on the mountain which was in her charge; secondly, the pine-tree contained the spirit of . Attis, a Phrygian deity, had been loved by Cybele. In a fit of jealousy she had driven him mad, wnd he had castrated himself and died* Overcome with remorse, Cybele had prayed to Zeus, who had allowed the spirit of A tti3 to pass into the pine-tree* 5. The marsh of Leroa, near Argos* It was once inhabited by the poisonous Hydra. Hercules killed the Hydra, and drained the marsh*

6 * The "rivers of Midas" were the Herraus, the , and the Pactolus* It was said that they were auriferous because Midas (of the golden touch) had bathed in them*

7* Cf. p. 76 o f th is present tran slatio n * The P a ris Commentary t e l l s us* "The harbour [of Athens] was assigned to Apollo because of the delight­ fulness of its waters* Poets in particular used to gather here to work and talk, and Apollo is the god of poets*" 3. According to Greco-, Pollux, who was immortal, asked to share the death of his brother Castor, who was mortal. Jove took pity on them and granted that they could share immortality in turn: when 210

the one was in the heavens the other would be in * 9* The 12th Century saw the first great flowering of the myth of Arthur. In 1136 appeared Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain, soon to be followed by Geoffroi Gaimar,s Estoire des Bretun3 . Wace's Brut falls early in the third quarter of the century, and Lajaraon's EngLish translation appeared c. 1200. Marie de France's Lais were written between 1167 and 1184., aad Chretien de Troye's verse-romances Erec et Knide. Clig^s. Lancelot. Yvaln and Perceval belong to roughly the same perio d . Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzlvql and Gottfried von Strassburg's Tristan were both written early in the 13th century. Clearly Joseph of Exeter was opposed to all this mythopoeic nonsense.

BOOK IV

1. The idea that the Don divided Europe from Asia is found also in Lucan (ill, 272-276). 2. This charge of avoirdupoisity is falsely laid. Joseph has misunder­ stood the "stomachosum11 ("choleric") of Dares Phrygius. 3. The ancients considered the liver to be the seat of passion (e.g., Juv., 6 , 647). See also Graeclsmus. p. 186, line 107* "coglt am are iegur" ("the liver forces love upon us"). 4* Here four of the torments of are listed. They are those suffered by Tityus, Sisyphus, Ixion and Tantalus respectively. 5* This is a very faint echo of the grim story of classical tradition which goes as follows* Agamemnon had offended Diana, and she refused to allow the Greek fleet to sail until he had sacrificed to her the loveliest of his daughters, Iphigenla. In the end, Agamemnon gave way to the impatience of the army* Iphigenia was brought to Aulis under the pretext that she was going to marry Achilles, and she was then sacrificed. , in the Agamemnon, perhaps tells the story most movingly. He has Clytemnestra say: (Agamemnon) carelessly, as i t were a head of sheep Out of the abundance of his fleecy flocks, Sacrificed his own daughter, to me the dearest Fruit of travail, charm for the Thracian winds. (The MacNeice v ersio n , lin e s 1415-1418.) In Dares Phrygius, all this 3 ound and fury becomes merely* "On arriving at Aulis, Agamemnon appeased the goddess Diana." (Frazer, The Tro.lan War, p. 1 4 6 .) 211

BOOK V

1. Tithonus, the brother of Priam, was loved by the dawn goddess, Aurora* She asked Jove to grant him eternal life, but forgot to ask also for eternal youth. The result was that Tithonus became so old that he shrivelled away into a grey shadow and a voice* Some say he became a grasshopper.

2 . This was, of course, the "music of the spheres". The Paris Commentaxy gives th e follow ing explanation: "This harmony comes from th e movement of the seven planets. Natural philosophers say that the music of the spheres, the so-called celestial harmony, cannot be heard by us because we have been born to it. (in the same way a person born and brought up in a mill would perhaps not be aware of the noise.) On this occasion, however, the Greek soldiers heard the music because of the more rapid movement of the firmament," (Riddehough, p. 383.) 3. The Argonauts were, almost universally, either the lovers of goddesses or the results of divine indiscretions.

4* See- Bk*—£-,—ft*~—15. 5* Observe how handy the patronymic is for invective. Tantalus was an ancestor of Agamemnon and Menelaus, who killed his son Pelops and served his flesh to the gods at a banouet, to see if they could tell it from the flesh of some other animal*

6 . According to the narrative of Dares Phrygius this took place on the following day, after Agamemnon had spent the night in his camp* (Frazer, p. 14-9*) 7. The Paris Commentary gives this explanation: "Natural philosophers say that a certain haziness is experienced at the beginning of sleep. Fumes arise to the brain from the stomach, where the humours are boiling, and it is these fumes which bring about sleep. Afterwards, however, the fUnes are scattered by natural heat, and so the inner spirit begins to wander freely through the body. It is at the beginning of sleep, therefore, when this spirit is being oppressed, that phantasms appear in dreams." (Riddehough, p, 395*) See also Macrobius, Commentarium ad Somnium S c in io n is. I l l , 7.

8 . Vergil (Aen. . I, 25-28) sums up the "savage hurts" that Juno had suffered from the Trojans* They were 1 ) the judgment of Paris — "the insult to beauty despised"; ii) the fact that the Trojans were sprung from Dardanus, one of Jove's by-blows; iii) the fact that Ganymede, Jove's lovely boy, who had taken Juno's place in bed, and had supplanted her daughter Hebe as cup-bearer to the gods, was also a Trojan. 212

9. The Paris Commentary has this note* "The sirens are sea-monsters who are ever fearful of bad weather. Thus, when skies are clear they lament because they know it will become stormy, and when it is stormy they rejoice because they foresee the advent of clear skies," (Riddehough, p. 397.) See also Geoffrey of Vinsauf, Poetria Nova. 283 f f .

1 0 . This was not the historical. Henry III (1207-1276), who succeeded his father King John in 1216, but the "Young King", Henry, son of Henry II (v. Jusserand, De Josepho Exoniensl vel Iscano. p# 97) • The "Young King" was crowned during his father's lifetime in 1170 to ensure his succession to the throne. He rebelled against his father in 1173. This insurrection was put down in 1174, but when he died of dysentery on 11th June 1183, he was again in rebellion against his father. Modern h is to ria n s have no very high opinion of th e "Young King" (v. Poole, Domesdav Book to Magna C arta, pp. 340-341, and DHB. IX, pp. 546-547). Apparently, however, Joseph was not alone among his contemporaries in thinking of him as a second Hector. The DHB has this comment* "It is difficult to discover the secret of the attraction which won him the friendship of such a man as William Marshal. It is hard to understand the grounds even of his general popularity, to which all the historians of the time bear witness, and which was curiously illustrated by a quarrel for the possession of his corpse . . . To the unthinking multitude the young king's charm probably lay in a stately, handsome person, a gracious manner, and a temoer whose easy shallowness contrasted favourably, in their eyesy with the terrible earnestness of Richard." (DHB. IX, p. 547.)

BOOK VI

1. In other words, the sun had travelled through the twelve signs of the Zodiac. 2. Joseph apparently does not mean that Palamedes had already killed one of Priam's sons, but merely that Priam was already mourning the death of Hector. 3. Memnon was king of the Ethiopians, and not the Persians. This is the second time Joseph has erred* on page 121 he called them Moors. 4. Lewis & Short, A Latin Dictionary, p. 1870, make no mention of this fanciful etymology, but derive the word from Thymbra or Thymbre, "a city of Troas, with a temple of Apollo". 5. Achilles was, of course, a Myrmidon, and Antilochus a Pylian. 213

6 . Ulysses, accompanied by one or more of the other heroes, had once gone to Scyros to find A chilles* See fu rth e r under Lycomede3 in the Glossary* 7* Joseph obviously regards Ajax as the son of Hesione, daughter of Priam* Hence Ajax* enemy, th e Trojans, were also h is kinsmen* (See p. &U of this present translation.) S. The Paris Commentary has this note* "There are said to be nine circles o r tr a c ts in th e Lower Worlds in the f i r s t are children; in the second the souls of those who were tin ju s tly condemned by judges because they lacked a defender; in the third are those who committed suicide to escape the hardships of thi 3 world; in the fourth, lovers; in the fifth, brave warriors; in the sixth, sinners, who are being punished by the judges; in the seventh, souls are being purged; and in the eighth are those who have been so purged that they desire to return to bodies*" (Riddehough, p* 412*) This is clearly based on the Vergilien undeiv world (Aen. VI, 4.26 ff* ).

9 . Pyrrhus is claiming that Priam, by sanctioning the murder of Achilles before the altar of Apollo, established a precedent for such outrageous behavior, 10, See under Paris in the Glossary, 11. Here Joseph diverges from his source, Dictys, who says that Aeneas begged the help of "all those who were inhabitants of Dardanum and the peninsula nearby", (Frazer, p. 117.) 12* In the year before the Argonauts reached Lemnos, the Lemnian men had quarrelled with their wives, complaining that they stenk, and had made concubines of the captive maidens they had acquired in their expeditions against Thrace. In revenge "the women had run riot and slaughtered every male inhabitant". (See Apollonius Hhodius, The Voyage of Argo, the RLeu translation, p* 52.) 13* Joseph is here anticipating the composition of his other epic, the Anttochalfl. See Introduction, p. 2 .

1 A* Presumably Archbishop Baldwin, who is similarly addressed as Father in the Invocation (p. 56), GLOSSARY

The aim of this glossary is to provide background information on the more important gods, persons and places mentioned by Joseph in his n a rra tiv e .

Acamas* a son of Theseus. Acheloust a river-god, defeated by Hercules when wrestling in competition for the hand of Deisnira, the daughter of Oeneus, king of Calydon. Acheron* a riv e r in th e Lower World. The name i s derived from achos. "pain". Achilles* son of Peleus and the sea- Thetis. Father of Pyrrhus, also called . His mother tried to prevent him from taking part in the Trojan War by hiding him, disguised as a girl, in the court of Lycomedes, king of Scyros. Ulysses, however, saw through the disguise and brought him to Troy. Admetus* an Argonaut, and Prince of Pherae in Thessaly. (Joseph makes Arcadia his home.) Adrastus* a swordsman. An ally of the Trojans. Adriatic* the sea between Italy and Greece. Aeacus* a son of Jove. Father of Telamon (father of the greater Ajax), and of Peleus (father of Achilles). Aeetest king of Colchis. Aegean Seat the sea between Greece and modem Turkey.

Aegialet wife of Diomedes. Aeneas* the son o f Venus and Anchises. Aeolus* became regarded as the god of the winds. Vergil (Aen. I, 50-59) depicts him as keeping the winds imprisoned in a cavern.

2 1 4 215

Aeson: rightful king of Iolcos in Thessaly, and father of Jason (q.v.). Agamemnon * son o f A treus, and b ro th er of Menelaus. King o f Mycenae, and commander-in-chief of the Greek forces at Troy. After his victorious return to his city he was murdered by his wife, Clytemnestra, and her lover, Aegisthus. Agenort king of Tyre, and father of Europe and Cadmus (qq. v.). Aglauros: the daughter of Cecrops, king of Athens. At Minerva's request she looked after the serpent-child, Erichthonlus, who was born from the semen which Minerva flung to the ground after Vulcan had tried to rape her and had ejaculated against her thigh. (Mother Earth conceived and gave birth to Erichthonius.) Minerva felt in some way responsible for the monster, and so saw to his upbringing when Mother Earth abandoned him. Ajax* (l) son of Telamon, called the Greater. He led the detachment from Salamis at the siege of Troy. Joseph (p. 153) obviously regards him as the son of Hesione. (2) son of Oileus, and captain of the Locrians at the Siege of Troy. (3 ) son of Nauplius, and brother of Palamedes. (In Dictys this name is given as Oeax.) A lcestisx a Greek w arrior from N isa, a c ity in Boeotia. Allecto* one of the Furies (q.v.). Althea* mother of Meleager (q.v.). Amazons: a monstrous regiment o f women from Scythia. Amphidamas: a Trojan conspirator. Amphimachus: (l) an a lly of the Trojans. (2) a Greek warrior killed by Aeneas. (3) a son of Priam. Amphitus: a son of Laomedon, according to th e P aris Commentary. Amphius: king of Z elia. An a lly o f the Trojans. Ancaeus: two men called Ancaeus sailed with the Argo. They were Great Ancaeus of Tegea, son of Poseidon, and L ittle Ancaeus, the Lelegian, o f Samos. Anchises: a cousin of Priam. Venus fell in love with him and bore to him a son, Aeneas. Anchises boasted of his success with Venus, and Jupiter either blinded him or paralysed him with a thunderbolt. 216

Andromache* wife of Hector, and mother of Astyanax. According to Dares, Helenus intercedes for her after the fall of Troy, and Agamemnon gives her her freedom. (Frazer, p. 167). Antaeus* a giant, the son of Poseidon and Ge, the Earth. Hercules wrestled with him, and, perceiving that whenever Antaeus was thrown he rose up stronger than before because of his contafit with his mother, the Earth, he held him (Antaeus) up in the air, away from the E arth, and crushed him to death. Antenor* one of Priam's counsellors. Antilochus* son of Hestor. Antiphates* (l) a Greek warrior killed by Troilus. (2) in Homer a cannibal giant who devoured several of Ulysses' crew; in Dictys a Sicilian princeling. Apollo* the son of Zeus and . The god of medicine, music, archery, and prophecy; of light (whence his epithet Phoebus, "bright, shining"), 1 and youth* He was sometimes identified with the sun. Apollo and Neptune built the walls of Troy for Laomedon, who subsequently refused to pay them for this task. Arachne* a woman of who challenged Minerva to a weaving contest. When i t appeared likely that Arachne would win, Minerva tore the web into pieces and beat the weaver with her loom. Arachne hanged herself in despair. Arcadia* a region in the centre of the Peloponnese. Argonauts* the name given to the heroes who set out with Jason (q.v.) in the Argo to seize the Golden Fleece. Argos: a town in S.E. Greece, sacred to Juno. Argus* (l) the Thespian, the builder of the Argo. ( 2 ) a warrior. Aristaeus* a son of Apollo and the nymph Gyrene. He taught men many things, including the management of bees. Astyanax* son of Hector and Andromache. Athene: see Minerva. Athos* a high mountain in , situated on a promontory on which the fleet of the First Persian Expedition against Greece (4-92 B.C.) was wrecked. To avoid a repetition of this disaster King Xerxes cut a canal behind the promontory of Athos for use in the Third Persian Expedition (4B0 B.C.). 217

Atlas* a son of the Titan . For helping the Titans in the revolt ag ain st Jove he was condemned to support Heaven on h is shoulders fo r all eternity. Joseph perhaps regards Atlas as a simple personi­ fication of the Atlas mountains in North-wAstem Africa, which with their height propped up the sky, and with their bulk kept the Atlantic from flowing into the Mediterranean. Atreus* son of Pelops, and brother of Thyestes. See Bk. Ill, n. 2. Atropos* one of the three sister Fates (q.v.). Aulis* a sea-port in Boeotia. Aurora* the dawn-goddess. She was the mother of Memnon, whose death at the hands of Achilles she weeps when the night is still. Her tears appear to us in the form o f dew. Bacchus* a Homan god identified with Greek Dionysus, the God of Wine. Dionysus was the son of Zeus and Semele, the daughter of Cadmus, the founder of Thebes. For the story of his miraculous birth, see under Semele. When Dionysus became a man made him mad, and he wandered the world accompanied by his tutor, , and a wild army of Satyrs and . During the course of his wanderings he conquered India, where he introduced viticulture, founded great cities and established laws. His ch ario t was drawn by lynxes. Becket, Saint Thomas Archbishop of Canterbury and martyr, b. London 11187, d. Canterbury, Dec. 29, 1170. Canonized Feb. 21, 1173. Bellerophons a Greek hero. One of his exploits was to battle against the Chimaera, a fire-brcathing monster. Bellona* the Roman Goddess of war. She wa3 the 3ister of Mars. Boeotia* a region of Greece to the northwest of Athens. Briareus* one of the giants who rebelled against the gods. Briseis* daughter of Brises, whom Dictys called King of the Leleges. She plays no part in the story as told by Dares and Joseph. Cacus* a wicked monster who lived in a cave on the future site of Rome. Hercules killed him when he tried to steal the oxen that Hercules had just taken from Geryon.

Cadmus* son of Agenor, king of Tyre, and brother of Europa. When Jove carried off Europa, Agenor sent Cadmus to recover her. Cadmus later abandoned his long and fruitless search on the advice of the Delphic Oracle, and founded Boeotian Thebes. He subsequently married Harmonia (q.v.). 218

Calais and Zetes: Argonauts* Sons of Boreas, the North wind, and O reithyia. Calchast son of Thestor* The most distinguished seer in the Greek aimy. Campania: a district of West Italy, famous for the abundance of its harvests* Cassandra: a daughter of Priam and Hecuba* She promised Apollo her favours in return for the gift of prophecy. He performed his part of the bargain but she refused hers. The angry god allowed her to keep her gift, but added the curse that she would never be believed. Castor and Pollux: twin sons of Jove and Leda (o.v.), and brothers of Helen and Clytem nestra. Celaenae: a town of Phrygia, on th e River Meander* Cerberus: the triple-headed dog which guarded Hades. Hercules with the help of Mercury and Minerva, went down to the underworld, captured and bound Cerberus, brought him to Eurystheus, and then returned him to Hades. This was the last and most arduous of Hercules' twelve lab o u rs. Ceres: an Italian goddess identified with Greek Dem'eter, the goddess of corn and patroness of agriculture in general. Chaldean: from "Chaldea", a region of Assyria. Chaonia: a region of in N.W. Greece, famous for the temple of Zeus at Dodona, where doves delivered the oracles. Charon: the ferryman who conveyed the dead across the Styx to Hades. Chaiybdis: a dangerous whirlpool off the coast of Sicily, opposite the cave of the sea-monster, Scylla. Chersonese: the Thracian peninsula at the west of the Hellespont. Chiron: a centaur, and tutor of some of the most famous Greek heroes, among them , Jason, and Achilles. Chromius: according to Bictys Cretensis he wa3 a Trojan ally, a Mygdonian, from My si a. Ciconian: from "Ciconia", a region of Thrace. The CiconianB supported the Trojans. Circe: an enchantress, and mother of Ulysses' bastard son, Telegonus (q.v.). Cirrha: a very ancient town in Phocis, near Delphi, devoted to Apollo. 219

Clotho* one of the Fates (q.v.). Clyteranestra* the daughter of T^ndareus and Leda, and sister of Helen, Castor and Pollux; the wife of Agamemnon. Cocytus* a river of the Lower World. Its name is derived from the Greek verb kokuo. "to howl, to weep". Colchis* a country at the East end of the Black Sea. The destination of the Argonauts. Colophon* a town in Lydia. I t equipped Amphimachus when he went to support the Trojans. Corcyra* an island in the , opposite Epirus. Croesus* king of Lydia. Defeated by Cyrus the Great.

Cumae* a town near , famous for its oracular Sibyl. Cupid* th e Roman boy-god o f lo v e. The son o f Venus. Cybele* an Asiatic goddess, the 1 Great Mother', a goddess of the powers of nature, identified by the Greeks with Hhea, or with Ge (the Earth). Cyclopes* three one-eyed giants, the sons of and Ge. They made the thunderbolts of Jove; and later the building of the large ruins of antiquity was ascribed to them. Cyprus* an island in the E. Mediterranean, sacred to Venus, for it was here that she first landed from the sea. But see also Cvthera. Cyrus* the Great, King of Persia (d. 529 B.C.). Cythera* an island off the coast of S. Greece, sacred to Venus* It was here, some say, that the Goddess first landed from the sea. Dacian* from "Dacia", a country on the lower Danube. Dardan* "Trojan". An adjective formed from Dardanus (q.v.). Dardanus* son of Zeus and (daughter of Atlas), ancestor of the Trojan kings. Dares* an eye-witness to the Trojan War. See Introduction. Deianira* the daughter of Althea and Oeneus of Calydon (some say Dionysus was her father)• The wife of Hercules. Delphobus* a son of Priam and Hecuba. Delost a small island in the Aegean. The birthplace of Apollo and Diana. 220

Delphi: the famous city of the oracle of Apollo in central Greece*

Demophoon: a son o f Theseus. Deucalion: son of . When Zeus, angiy with the crimes of man, decided to destroy the world with a flood, Prometheus gave warning to his son. Deucalion built a boat for himself and his wife Fyrrha, and so escaped the flood. Diana: a Latin goddess identified at an early date with the Greek Artemis. Artemis was the daughter of Zeus and Leto, and the sister of Apollo. She was a virgin huntress, and among other things was the goddess of wild life. She was identified with the moon. Diomedes: (l) son of Mars, and king of the Bistonians in Thrace. He had untamable horses whom he fed with human flesh. Hercules killed Diomedes and fed him to h is horses, who thereupon became tame* This was Hercules1 eighth "Labour". (2) son of Tyieus. One of the great warriors of the Greeks. Dis: another name for Pluto (q.v.). Dodona: a town in Epirus. One of the entrances to HadeB (by way of the spring of the Cocytus) is near Dodona. Don: a river in Scythia, known to the ancients as the . Dulichium: an island in the Ionian Sea. Part of Ulysses' domain. Echo: a nymph who could merely repeat the last words or sounds she heard. Her unrequited love for the handsome Narcissus caused her to wither away until only her voice remained. Elysian: from "Elysium", the region where the blessed enjoy their sweet repose after death. Enceladus: one of the giants who rebelled against the gods. He was subsequently imprisoned beneath Mt. Etna.

Eryraanthus: a mountain-range in Arcadia, where Hercules killed a savage boar. (His third "Labour".) E»na: a volcanic mountain in Sicily. Euboea: a great island lying between Auli3 and the .Aegean Sea. Europa: the daughter of Agenor, king ofTyre, and sister of Cadmus (q.v.). She was abducted by Jove in the shape of a white bull. Euiypylus: a Greek captain from Ormenion. 221

Euiystheus* king of Tiryns, and taskmaster of Hercules (q.v.). Falernust a district in N. Campania famous for its wine. Fates* three sisters, dotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, the daughters of Night, or of Zeus and the Titaness, . They were represented in art as three old women engaged in spinning the thread of life. Clotho held the distaff, Lachesis drew off the thread, and Atropos cut it with her shears. Furies* goddesses of vengeance. They were depicted as being winged, and holding whips made from live serpents. Later writers gave their names as Allecto, , and Tisiphone. Gabines* inhabitants of Gabii, an ancient city of Latium. Gallust the name for a priest of Cybele.

Ganges* a river in India. Ganymede* a beautiful Trojan prince. Jove desired him, and taking on the shape of an eagle, carried him off to heaven. He became the cup-bearer of the gods, an office previously held by Hebe, the daughter of Juno. Get the personification of the Earth. The mother of Antaeus (q.v.). Gelonit a people of Scythia. Geryon* a three-bodied or three-headed giant who lived in the west of the world. He was killed by Hercules, who then drove off his magnificent herd of oxen. (Hercules1 tenth "Labour"). Getae* a Thracian tr ib e on the Danube. Glaucus* a warrior from Lycia. Comrade of Sarpedon, and ally of the T rojans. Gorgon* see Medusa. Haemust a mountain in Thessaly, which provided the wood for building th e Argo. Harmonia* the daughter of Mars and Venus, and wife o f Cadmus, th e Founder of Thebes. Cadmus and Harmonia eventually retired to . Here they were turned into serpents and were carried to Elysium. They had four daughters* Ino, Semele, Autonoe, and Agave. Juno destroyed Semele (q.v.) because of Jove's love for her. Dionysus, the child of the misalliance, was given a heme by Ino. Juno's revenge for this kindness was savage* she made Ino's husband mad, and he killed their son Learchus. Ino leapt into the sea with her other son and was drowned. 222

Hebe* the daughter of Jupiter and Juno* She became the bride of Hercules after his ascent to heaven. Hector* a Trojan prince, the son of Priam and Hecuba. Husband of Andromache, and father of Astyanax. Hecuba* th e w ife of Priam, king o f Troy* Helaea* a harbour in Cythera. The name, which occurs first in the pages ' of Dares Phrygius, is perhaps derived from "Helen". Helen* daughter of Leda, sister of Clytemnestra (the wife of Agamemnon) and the twins Castor and Pollux. Helen was believed to be the daughter of Jove, who had approached her mother in the shape of a white swan* Helenus* son o f Priam and Hecuba* Hercules* son of Jove and a mortal mother* Alcmena, the wife of * Juno hating Hercules as yet further evidence of her husband's infidelity, sent two serpents to kill him in his cradle. The infant Hercules stran g led the serpents* L ater, when he was a man, Juno made him mad and he killed his wife and their children* When he asked the Oracle at Delphi how to become purified of this crime, he was ordered to go and serve Eurystheus, king of Tiryns, for twelve years, and win immortality by performing the "twelve labours" that Eurystheus would impose upon him. (Several of these labours are mentioned in the hymn sung in his praise at the wedding of Hesione, pp. 81-82 of the present translation.) Later he married Deianira, daughter of Oeneus of Calydon. Nessus, a centaur, tried to rape Deianira, and Hercules shot him with a poisoned arrow* The dying Nessus advised Deianira to save his blood and smear it on a garment of Hercules if ever it looked as if his love was straying* Deianira subsequently acted on this advice when Hercules appeared to be showing too much interest in the captive maid, lole* The robe clung to Hercules' flesh and burned him hideously. Unable to stand the pain, he climbed on a pyre and ordered it to be lit. He was carried to heaven, was reconciled with Juno, and married her daughter Hebe* Hexmione: the daughter of Menelaus and Helen. Hezmus* an auriferous river in Asia Minor. Hesione* daughter of Laomedon, king of Troy. Hercules gave her to Telamon, who had distinguished himself in Hercules' war against Troy. Joseph regards Ajax as their son. HespePides* the "daughters of Evening" lived far away in the west of the world, and had an apple tree which produced golden apples* Hercules killed the guardian dragon and carried off the apples* (His eleventh "Labour".) 223

Hippolyta* queen o f th e Amazons. She had a g ird le which the daughter of Eurystheus desired. Hercules defeated the Amazons in battle and obtained the girdle, either from Hippolyta1 s dead body, or as the price of her freedom. (Hercules' ninth "Labour".). Hippolytusx (l) a Trojan warrior killed by Achilles. (2) a son of Theseus. Hybla* a mountain o f S ic ily , abounding in flow ers and bees. Hydaspes* a river of India, a tributary of the Indus. Hydra* a poisonous water-snake living in the marshes of Lerna, near Argos. It had several heads, and when one was cut off another grew in its place. Hercules killed it. (His second "Labour".) Hymen* the god of marriage and of weddings. Hypsipyle: queen of Lemnos. The women of Lemnos neglected to sacrifice to Venus, and so she afflicted them with a disgusting smell. Their husbands turned from them and found wives among their slaves and the mainland women. In anger the Lemnian women murdered all the men on the island. The Argonauts thus found them in a man-hungry state. Hypsipyle bore two sons to Jason, who subsequently deserted her*

Hyrcanian* from "Hyrcania", a country on the Caspian Sea. Icarius* a legendary inhabitant of Attica, who received from Dionysus the gift of wine. Ida* a mountain near Troy. Idalium* a mountain-city in Cyprus, sacred to Venus.

Idas* (l) son of Aphareus of Messene. Brother of Lynceus, look-out man of the Argo. (2) a Greek warrior killed by Troilus. Idomeneus* a king of Crete. Generally regarded as leader of the Cretans against Troy; Joseph, however, assigns this honour to Meriones.

Inachus* the first king of Argos. Sometimes regarded as the founder of the Greek race. Indus* a river which emptied into the Indian Ocean.

Iphiclus* an Argonaut, and father of Protesilaus. Iris* the goddess of the rainbow, and the messenger of the gods. Isiphilus* a son of Laomedon, according to the Paris Commentary. 224 -

Isthmus: the Isthmus of Corinth, On one side lies the Ionian Sea, on the other side the Aegean. Ithaca: a barren island off the V. coast of Greece. The domain of Ulysses.

Ixionx for many crimes, particularly his adulterous passion for Juno, Ixion was bound on a wheel that turned for ever. Jason: son of Aeson, the rightful king of Iolcos in Thessaly. Aesonfs throne had been ursurped by his half-brother, Pelias. When Jason returned as a man to Iolcos, Pelias promised to restore the throne if he could first recover the golden fleece of the rem which had carried Phrixus and Helle away from the anger of their step-mother, Ino queen of Thebes. Jason undertook the adventure and set out in the Argo with fifty of the chief heroes of Greece. After many adventures, they reached Colchis. Aeetes, king of Colchis, consented to surrender the fleece if Jason could perform certain apparently impossible tasks. He had to yoke two fire-breathing brazen-footed bulls, plough the field of Ares, and sow it with dragon's teeth (which would immediately spring up in the shape of brutal warriors)• With the help of the king's daughter, Medea, a witch, Jason successfully accomplished these tasks. Then, again with the help of Medea, he put to sleep the dragon which guarded the golden fleece, stole the fleece, and returned with Medea and the other Argonauts to Iolcos. Here Medea took savage vengeance on Pelias for the wrong he had done to Jason and his family. Jove: the Roman god, Jupiter, identified with Greek Zeus. Juno: a Roman or Italian goddess, identified with Greek Hera, and thus regarded as the wife and sister of Zeus or Jove. She was primarily the goddess of women, and hence presided over marriage (Juno Pronuba) and childbirth (Juno Lucina).

Jupiter: see Jove* Lachesis: one of the sister Fates (q.v.). Laodamia: wife of Protesilaus. She made a wax image of her husband with which to console herself while he was away. When she learned of his death, she was plunged into such deep grief that the gods took pity on her and allowed Protesilaus to return to her for three hours. When he left she killed herself. Laomedon: king of Troy, and father of Priam. Laplthae: a rugged tribe of mountaineers who lived in Thessaly. They were often confused with their neighbours, the Centaurs, who once unwisely attacked Hercules when he was being entertained by one of th e ir number on Mt. Pholoe. 225

Larissa* a town of the kingdom of Phthia in Thessaly, the home of Peleus. Leda* wife of Tyndareus, king of Sparta; mother of Helen and Clytemnestra, and the twins Castor and Pollux. Lemnos* an island in the Aegean. Lema* a marsh near Argos, where Hercules killed the Hydra. Lesbos* an island in the Aegean Sea. Libyan* from "Libya11, a ram delivered the oracles in the temple of Jupiter Ammon in the Libyan desert. Ligurian* from "Liguria", a region of N. Italy. Locrian* from "", a country in Greece. Lycaon* son o f Priam. Lycia* a country of Asia Minor. It sent Sarpedon and Glaucus to support the Trojans. Lycomedes* king of Scyros. T hetis had tr ie d to prevent A chilles from going to th e Trojan war, where she knew he was fa te d to d ie , by dressing him as a girl and hiding him at the court of Lycomedes. Here he made love to the Icing1 s daughter, Deidameia, and by her became the father of Pyrrhus* later called Neoptolemus. Ulysses discovered Achilles and summoned him to the war. Machaon* son of Aesculapius, and brother of Podalirius. A fighter and physician. Supported the Greeks. Maeonia* an ancient name for Lydia, where Homer is supposed to have been born. Males.* a promontory in the Peloponessus. Mars* a Homan god, subsequently identified with Greek Ares, the god of War. He was regarded as especially the god of the Thracians, who were notorious for their belligerence. Medusa* one of three female monsters colled . Her head turned to stone anything that met its gaze. She was killed by Perseus. Shields were commonly embellished with a picture of the Gorgon's head* Meleager* son of Oeneus, king of Calydon, and his wife Althea. At his birth the Fates warned that he would live only so long as a brand on the fire was not consumed. Althea snatched the brand from the fire and preserved i t c a re fu lly . L ate r, when Meleager was a man, he summoned a band of heroes to help him destroy a boar which was ravaging 226

Calydon. When the boar was killed, Meleager gave its head to Atalenta, the virgin huntress* His mother's brothers were angry and tried to take it from her, whereupon Meleager killed them* When Althea heard what her son had done, she threw the fateful brand into the fire and Meleager died* Meliboeus* the name of a shepherd mentioned by Vergil in Eclogues I, II, VII. Memnon* son of Tithonus and Aurora (c.v*), and king of the Ethiopians. An ally of the Trojans* Memphis* a town in Middle Egypt* Henelaust brother of Agamemnon, and son of Atreus* He was king of Sparta, and the husband of Helen* Menestheus* captain of the Athenian contingent at the Trojan war. Mercury* a Roman god, identified at an early date with Greek , the son o f Zeus and . Hermes was th e messenger o r herald o f the gods, and conductor of the souls of the dead to Hades* Keriones* a charioteer and archer. He accompanied Idomeneus of Crete* Supported the Greeks* Messina: a Sicilian city, situated on the strait between the island and Italy* Known to the Romans as Messana* Midas* a legendary king of Phrygia, whose touch turned everything to gold*

Minerva* an old Italian goddess, later identified with Greek Pallas Athene. Athene was the daughter of Zeus and his first wife * Zeus swallowed the pregnant Metis for fear that she would give birth to a son stronger than himself* Athene sprang from the head of her father, which Hephaestus (or Prometheus) had split with an axe* She was the goddess of handicrafts and of war, and the patron of Athens and of the Greek cities in general. In her quarrel with Poseidon she brought the olive tree into existence. A branch from this tree was regarded as the sign of peace* Minos* a great and legendary king o f C rete. Moors* used by Joseph for the people of Memnon, who were in Homer Ethiopians* Mopsus* a Greek soothsayer* Mulciber* "Melter of metals", one of the names of Vulcan* Muses* goddesses o f lit e r a tu r e and th e arts* They were nine in number* 227

Mycenae: Agamemnon’s capital in S. Greece, Myrmidons: Aeacus was the son of Zeu3 and a man o f great p ie ty . When a plague wiped out the inhabitants of his island, , Zeus repeopled it by creating human-beings out of ants (called Myrmidons from the word for arits, murafBkes), The subjects of his son Peleus, and his grandson Achilles, were generally called Myrmidons,

My si a: a country of Asia Minor, near Troy, * Nabathaean* from "Nabathaea", a country in Arabia Petraea. Naiads* of springs, rivers and lakes, Nauplius: son of Neptune, and father of Palamedes, King of Euboea, Naxos: an island in the Aegean, famous for its wines, Nemeani from "IJemea", a town in S, Greece, where Hercules k ille d a monstrous lion, (His first "Labour11.) Neptune* an Italian god, identified with Greek Poseidon, lord of the sea and b ro th er of Zeus, Nereids* see^-goddesses, daughters of Hereus, the most famous of whom was Thetis (q .v .), Nereus* the OQLd Man of the Sea, A benevolent and ill-defined god, Nero* emperor of Rome, (A.D. 54-63) • Suetonius tells us that Nero set fire to Rome, and watched the blaze "enraptured by what he called 'the beauty of the flames'", He "put on his tragedian's costume and sang The Fall of from beginning to end". (The Twelve Caesars, the Graves translation, p, 231.) Nessus: a centaur who attempted to rape Deianira, the wife of Hercules, Hercules killed him with a poisoned arrow, Nestor* king of Pylos, and father of Antilochus, He was noted for his wisdom. Niobe* the mother of seven sons and seven daughters, who boasted of her superiority to Latona who had only one son and one daughter. Apollo and Diana killed all Niobe's sons and daughters with their arrows. Niobe wept for them until she was turned into a column of stone from which tears continue to flow, Nisaean* from "Nisa", a city in Boeotia. 0ileus: king of Locris, and father of Ajax. 228

Olympus* a mountain in northern Greece. It was believed to be the home o f th e Gods. Oreithyia* daughter of Erechtheus (king of Athens), and wife of Boreas, the North Wind. Mother of Zetes and Calais, the Argonauts. Orontest (l) a Chaldean killed by the Greeks. (2) the principal river of Syria. Orpheus* the son of or some other muse. His music was so sweet that even the trees followed him. It is said that his singing helped the Argonauts to resist the lure of the Sirens. Ossa* a high mountain in Thessaly. Faeoniant from "Paeonia", a land N. of Macedonia. Pelamedes* son of Nauplius, king of Euboea. Palladium* an image of Pallas Athene which fell from heaven in answer to the prayer of , the founder of Troy. Troy could not be captured as long as this image remained in the city. Pallas* a Titan, a giant of no particular importance, save that some say Athene killed him and thus acquired the name of Pallas Athene. Pallas Athene* Athene was often called Pallas Athene or just Pallas. The origin of "Pallas" is uncertain. See Minerva. Pandarus* an archer. An ally of the Trojans. Paphos* a city of Cyprus where Venus first landed from the sea. But see also Cvthera. Paris* a Trojan prince, the son of Priem and Hecuba. Shortly before his birth, Hecuba dreamed she was delivered of a blazing brand from which wriggled countless fiery serpents. A prophet interpreted this as meaning that the child in her womb would bring Troy down in flames. He called for its death. But Priam and Hecuba could not bring them­ selves to k ill the baby themselves, and so had him exposed on Mt. Ida, where he was brought up by a kindly herdsman. When he had grown to young manhood, Paris visited Troy and his identity was revealed. He was so handsome and accomplished that Priam and Hecuba gladly accepted him back into the family, ignoring the warning of the priests of Apollo, who reminded them of Hecuba1 3 prophetic dream. Paros* an island in the Aegean, famous for its white marble. Parthian* from "Parthia", a region near the Caspian Sea, famous for its arch ers. 229

Patroclus* son of Menoetius, and friend of Achilles* Pegasus* a winged horse which sprang from the blood of Medusa when Perseus cut off her head. Peleus* king of P hthia and lo rd of th e Myrmidons* Husband of th e sea- goddess Thetis, and father of Achilles. Brother of Telamon. Pelias* usurper of the throne of Iolcos* See fhrther under Jason. Pelion* a wooded mountain near the coast of Thessaly. Peloponnesus* "Island of Pelops", the whole of Southern Greece. But see Book I, n. 10. Penates* in Homan religion, the spirits of the store-cupboard. Penelope* wife of Ulysses, and mother of Telemachus. Penthesilea* a cueen o f th e Amazons. An a lly o f th e Trojans. Pergamum* also Pergama, and in Greek, Pergamos. The citadel of Troy, and therefore Troy itself. Persephone* the daughter of Zeus end Deraeter, The wife of Hades, lord of the underworld. Perseus* son of Zeus and Danae. He killed the Medusa. Phaethon* son of (the Sun). One day he tried to drive his father's chariot, but proved unequal to the task. The horses bolted and set the world on fire. Zeus intervened with a thunderbolt, and plunged Phaethon into the river Eridanus, where he drowned.

Phasis* a river in Colchis (q.v.). * a Thessalian archer. Companion of Hercules, and fighter for the Greeks at Troy. Phlegethon* a river in the Lower World, which ran with fire instead of water. The word means "burning, blazing". Phlegra* a countiy of Macedonia, scene of the giants' rebellion against the gods. Phoebe* "The bright one", a Titaness. Later she was confused with Artemis (Roman Diana q.v.), her grand-daughter.

Phoebus* see Apollo. Phoenix* the Phoenix built its pyre from different types of sweet-smelling woods. 230

Phrygia* Asia Minor. Phthia: a town in Thessaly, ruled by Peleus. Phyllis* a Bisaltian princess, whose love for the Athenian Demophon destroyed them both. Pleuron* a city in Aetolia# Plisthenes: a son of Pelops, and brother of Atreus and Thyestes. lists Agamamnon and Menelaus as the sons of Plisthenes. The Paris Commentary says th a t because they were brave, and P listh en es a coward, they took the name Atrides — "sons of Atreus11 — from their uncle, Atreus. Pluto: Lord of the Underworld, identified with the Homan Dis (whose name also means "The Wealthy One"). Podalirius* son of Aesculapius, and brother of llachaon. A fighter and physician. Supported the Greeks. Pollux: ' see Castor. Polydamas* a Trojan. The son of Panthus (q.v.). Polyphemus: in the a savage, one-eyed giant; in Dictys merely a Sicilian prince with whom Ulysses has dealings. Polypoetes: a warrior from Argisa, the last man killed by Hector. Polyxenai daughter of Priam and Hecuba. Loved by Achilles. Priam* son of Laomedon, husband of Hecuba, and king of Troy at the time o f th e Trojan War. He was the fa th e r of f i f t y sons and twelve o r more daughters• Protesilaus* son of Iphiclus, and husband of Laodamia. The first ashore and the first killed at Troy. Proteus* a sea^god, who had the power of assuming different shapes in order to escape being questioned. Pylos* a town in the Peloponnese, the home of Nestor (q.v.). Pyrrhus* otherwise called Meoptolemus; the son of Achilles and Deidamia. See further under Lycomedes.

Rhesus* a captain from Thrace, and a lly of Priam. Rumour* sometimes depicted as a goddess. Vergil draws a frightening picture of her (Aen. IV, 173-138). 231

Srlamis: (l) an island near Athens. The home of Telamon. ( 2 ) a town in Cyprus, founded by , the son of Telamon. Same: an island in the Ionian Sea. Part of the domain of Ulysses. Samos: an island off the coast of Asia Minor. Sarraatiani from "Sarmatia", a country extending from the Vistula to the Don. Sarpedoni a warrior from Lycia. Comrade of Glaueus, and ally of the T rojans. Saturn: an Italian god later identified with the Greek . Cronus rebelled against his father and castrated him. Nov followed a Golden Age on Earth. Zeus, his youngest child, successfully rebelled against him and confined him in Tartarus.

Scylla: was turned into a monster by Poseidon1 s wife, Araphitrite, who was jealous of her. She lived in a cave in the Straits of Messina, opposite the whirlpool of Charybdis. She seized those who sailed by, and devoured them. Vergil fAen. Ill, 426-3) depicts her as having the body of a young woman, the ta il of a dolphin, and dogs' heads about her waist. Scyros: an island in the Aegean, near Euboea. Scythia* a country N.E. of the Black Sea.

Semele* the daughter of Cadmus and Harmonia (<33.v.). Jove fell in love with her and visited her in disguise. Juno, savagely jealous, came to Semele in the shape of an old neighbour and urged her to have her lover take off his di3 g u i3 e. Jove, nagged by Semele, revealed himself as thunder and lightning, and Semele was consumed in the flames. Hermes snatched the child (Dionysus) from her womb and placed it in the thigh of Jove to complete the period of gestation. Sergestus* a Phrygian slave belonging to Achilles. Sicily: the island. In the waters off Sicily were those two hazards to shipping, Scylla and Charybdis (qc>v.). Sidonlan* from "Sidon", a famous Phoenician city. Sigambriant from "Sigam bria", a region o f Germany. Sigeumt a promontory near Troy. Simois* a river of Troy. Sirens: birds with the faces of virgins. They lived off the southern coast of Italy, where, with their sweet voices, they enticed sailors 232

ashore and then killed them* When passing their land Ulysses stopped the ears of his men with wax, and had himself lashed to the mast* Sirius* the Dog-star* Setting with the sun in August, it marked the hottest period of the Greek year* Sisyphus* a legendary king of Corinth, renowned for his cunning and his crimes* For his misdeeds on earth he was condemned in Hades to roll to the top of a hill a rock which always rolled backwards as soon as it reached the top* Sthenelus* a captain from Argos, killed by Hector. Stygian* from "Styx", (q.v.)* Stymphalian* from"8tymphalusn, a lake in Arcadia, which had man-eating birds roosting in the woods on its shore* Hercules shot some of these birds and drove the rest away* (His fifth "Labour".) Styx* the principal river of the Underworld. The word means "the hateful, the horrible, the abhorrent". Syraplegades* the "clashing ones". Two moving rocks that stood at the entrance to the Black Sea* They were believed to clash together, crushing ships that passed between them* The Argonauts, despite the prayers of Joseph of Exeter, narrowly escaped them. Syrtes* two wide gulfs on the North Coast of Africa, which were considered very dangerous in antiquity. The Greater Syrtes was off the coast of modern Tripoli, the Lesser off the coast of Tunis* Tantalus* an ancestor of Agamemnon and Henelaus. For killing his son Pelops, and serving his fle3h to the gods at a banquet, he was punished in Tartarus by being placed in a pool which always retreated from him when he stooped to drink the water* Tartarus* that part of the Underworld where the wicked suffer punishments for the wrong they did when they were alive* Taurus: a high mountain-range in S.S. Asia Minor* Teiresiast a famous Theban prophet. See Book IX, n. 3* Telamon* king o f S al amis, and b ro th e r of Peleus* The fa th e r of th e greater Ajax and of Teucer* Telchines* magic spirits of , who specialized in metallurgy and forged the thunderbolts of Jove* Telegonus: the son of Ulysses and Circe, and the unwitting slayer of his father* 233

Telephus* aon of Hercules and the nymph Auge. Later king of My si a. Tenedost an island off the coast of Troy*

Teuthrasx king of tfysia. Thalaus* 1 can nowhere find any trace of a Thalaus or Talaus among the Argonauts* Is Talaus some confused echo of Talos, the bronze sentinel of Crete, whom the Argonauts encountered on their return voyage? Theban* of Thebes, a city of Boeotia* Theseus* Prince of Athens* Son of Aethra and Aegeus (king of Athens) or Poseidon* Among countless other exploits he slew the Minotaur, the monster (bull-man) offspring of Pasiphae, the wife of Minos* Thessaly* a district of N. Greece, in which was situated the town of Iolcos*

Thetis* a sea-*goddess, the daughter of Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea* She was the wife of Peleus, and the mother of Achilles* Zeus had loved Thetis, but married her to Peleus, a mortal, when he learned that she was fated to have a son who would be mightier than his father.

Thomas1 see Becket* Thrace* a country N.E* of Macedonia, and N. of Troy* Thunderer* one of the titles of Jove, who had charge of thunder and lightning* Tbyestes* son of Pelops, and brother of Atreus* See Book II, n* 2. Thymbraeant an epithet of Apollo. Thymbre was a city in the Troas where there was a temple to Apollo. Tiphyst o f Boeotian Siphae. The helmsman o f the Argo. Tisiphone* one of the Furies (q*v.)* Titans* the children of Uranus and Ge* Zeus subsequently vanquished them and confined them in Tartarus* Tithonus* son of Laomedon and b ro th e r o f Priam . He was loved by th e dawn-goddess, Aurora, and by her became the father of Memnon. Tityus* a giant, killed by Apollo and Diana for raping their mother, Latona. He was bound to the ground in Hades, and two vultures tore perpetually at his liver. Tomyris* queen of the Massagetae, who defeated and killed Cyrus the Great. 234

Triptolemus* (1) a Greek warrior killed by Sarpedon* (2) an KLeusinian whom Ceres sent about the world in her dragon-drawn chariot to teach the art of agriculture* Tritons a merman, son of Poseidon and Araphitrite* T ro ilu st a son o f Priam and Hecuba* Tydeust son of Oeneus, king of Calydon, and father of Diomedes. Tyndareus* king of Sparta* Husband of Led a, and father of Helen, Clytemnestra, Castor and Pollux* Typhoeus: son of Tartarus and Ge* Zeus attacked him with thunderbolts and flung him flaming into Tartarus. Ucalegons one of Priam's counsellors* Ulyssest son of Laertes, lord of Ithaca and the neighbouring islands* Venust a Homan or Italian goddess who was identified with Greek Aphrodite* According to Hesiod Aphrodite sprang from the foam (anhros) of the sea that fizzed up around the threshing testicles of Uranus, who was castrated by his son Cronus when he supplanted him* She fell in love with a mortal, Anchises, cousin to Priam, King of Troy, and gave birth to Aeneas* The myrtle was her special plant, the dove her especial bird* (Some say her chariot was drawn by doves instead of horses*) Vergil* Roman poet (70-19 B.C.) . His poem, The Aeneid. t e l l s o f the fall of Troy and how Aeneas, after many wanderings and hardships, established himself in Italy* Volcontus* a son of Priam, according to the Paris Commentary* Vulcan* an early Homan god, later identified with Greek Hephaestus* Hephaestus was the God of fire and metal work* He was the son of Zeus and Hera, and the husband of Aphrodite (Venus), who was notoriously unfaithful to him* Xanthippuss a Thracian* An a lly of th e T rojans, k ille d by Diomedes* Xerxes* (l) king of Persia* Succeeded his father, Darius, 435 B.C. (2) a warrior. Zelia* a city of the * It sent Jmphius, Pandarus and Adrastus to the support of Priam*

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