A pain like grief weighed on the son of Peleus,
and in his shaggy chest this way and that
the passion of his heart ran: should he draw
longsword from hip, stand off the rest, and kill
in single combat the great son of Atreus,
or hold his rage in check and give it time?
And as this tumult swayed him, as he slid
the big blade slowly from the sheath, Athena
came to him from the sky. The white-armed goddess,
Hera, sent her, being fond of both,
concerned for both men. And Athena, stepping
up behind him, visible to no one
except AkhiIleus, gripped his red-gold hair.
Startled, he made a half turn, and he knew her
upon the instant for Athena: terribly
her grey eyes blazed at him. And speaking softly
but rapidly aside to her he said:
"What now, O daughter of the god of heaven
who bears the storm cloud, why are you here? To see
the wolfishness of Agamemnon?
Well, I give you my word: this time, and soon,
he pays for his behavior with his blood."
The grey-eyed goddess Athena said to him:
"It was to check this killing rage I came
from heaven, if you will listen. Hera sent me,
being fond of both of you, concerned for both.
Enough: break off this combat, stay your hand
upon the sword hilt. Let him have a lashing
with words, instead: tell him how things will be.
Here is my promise, and it will be kept:
winnings three times as rich, in due season,
you shall have in requital for his arrogance.
But hold your hand. Obey."
The great runner, Akhilleus, answered:
"Nothing for it, goddess,
but when you two immortals speak, a man
complies, though his heart burst. Just as well.
Honor the gods' will, they may honor ours."
...Leaving his friends in haste, Akhilleus wept,
and sat apart by the grey wave, scanning the endless sea.
Often he spread his hands in prayer to his mother:
"As my life came from you, though it is brief,
honor at least from Zeus who storms in heaven
I call my due. He gives me precious little.
See how the lord of the great plains, Agamemnon,
humiliated me! He has my prize,
by his own whim, for himself."
Eyes wet with tears,
he spoke, and her ladyship his mother heard him
in green deeps where she lolled near her old father.
Gliding she rose and broke like mist from the inshore
grey sea face, to sit down softly before him,
her son in tears; and fondling him. . .
Her eyes filled, and a tear fell as she answered
"Alas, my child, why did I rear you, doomed
the day I bore you? Ah. could you only be
serene upon this beachhead through the siege,
your life runs out so soon.
Oh early death! Oh broken heart! No destiny
so cruel! And I bore you to this evil!
But what you wish I will propose
To Zeus, lord of the lightning, going up
myself into the snow-glare of Olympos
with hope for his consent.
Be quiet now beside the long ships, keep your anger bright
against the army, quit the war.
—- Homer, The Iliad: Book One (transl. Robert Fitzgerald)
and in his shaggy chest this way and that
the passion of his heart ran: should he draw
longsword from hip, stand off the rest, and kill
in single combat the great son of Atreus,
or hold his rage in check and give it time?
And as this tumult swayed him, as he slid
the big blade slowly from the sheath, Athena
came to him from the sky. The white-armed goddess,
Hera, sent her, being fond of both,
concerned for both men. And Athena, stepping
up behind him, visible to no one
except AkhiIleus, gripped his red-gold hair.
Startled, he made a half turn, and he knew her
upon the instant for Athena: terribly
her grey eyes blazed at him. And speaking softly
but rapidly aside to her he said:
"What now, O daughter of the god of heaven
who bears the storm cloud, why are you here? To see
the wolfishness of Agamemnon?
Well, I give you my word: this time, and soon,
he pays for his behavior with his blood."
The grey-eyed goddess Athena said to him:
"It was to check this killing rage I came
from heaven, if you will listen. Hera sent me,
being fond of both of you, concerned for both.
Enough: break off this combat, stay your hand
upon the sword hilt. Let him have a lashing
with words, instead: tell him how things will be.
Here is my promise, and it will be kept:
winnings three times as rich, in due season,
you shall have in requital for his arrogance.
But hold your hand. Obey."
The great runner, Akhilleus, answered:
"Nothing for it, goddess,
but when you two immortals speak, a man
complies, though his heart burst. Just as well.
Honor the gods' will, they may honor ours."
...Leaving his friends in haste, Akhilleus wept,
and sat apart by the grey wave, scanning the endless sea.
Often he spread his hands in prayer to his mother:
"As my life came from you, though it is brief,
honor at least from Zeus who storms in heaven
I call my due. He gives me precious little.
See how the lord of the great plains, Agamemnon,
humiliated me! He has my prize,
by his own whim, for himself."
Eyes wet with tears,
he spoke, and her ladyship his mother heard him
in green deeps where she lolled near her old father.
Gliding she rose and broke like mist from the inshore
grey sea face, to sit down softly before him,
her son in tears; and fondling him. . .
Her eyes filled, and a tear fell as she answered
"Alas, my child, why did I rear you, doomed
the day I bore you? Ah. could you only be
serene upon this beachhead through the siege,
your life runs out so soon.
Oh early death! Oh broken heart! No destiny
so cruel! And I bore you to this evil!
But what you wish I will propose
To Zeus, lord of the lightning, going up
myself into the snow-glare of Olympos
with hope for his consent.
Be quiet now beside the long ships, keep your anger bright
against the army, quit the war.
—- Homer, The Iliad: Book One (transl. Robert Fitzgerald)