Agamemnon Advises Flight—Council of the Princes—A Deputation is Sent to
Achilles
Fear and unrest prevailed in the camp by the ships, and even Agamemnon
was no longer confident. He quietly called the chieftains to a council
of war. “Friends,” he said, “I perceive that Jupiter is not inclined to
fulfil the promise of his omens and no longer desires that I take Troy
and lead ye home laden with booty. He has already destroyed many of us
and our misery grows greater day by day. Surely he is but making sport
of us. Therefore let us launch our ships and return home, saving at
least those of us who are left.”
For a while the princes were silent. Then Diomedes sprang up and spake:
“Do not be angry, O King, if I disagree with thee. It seems to me thou
art faint-hearted, for none of us has given up hope. Truly the gods do
not give everything to one man, and Jupiter has made thee a powerful
king; but valor, the flower of manly virtues, he has denied thee. If
thou art so anxious to return, very good; then go. The way is open and
the ships are ready. But the rest of us will remain until we have
destroyed Priam’s fortress. And if all others should flee, I would
remain with my friend Sthenelus, for it is the gods who have brought us
hither.”
All the warriors applauded this, and when Nestor had praised Diomedes’
words, there was no further talk of retreat. The venerable man now
counselled that the walls should be carefully guarded and that
watchfires should be lighted everywhere. He signed to Agamemnon to
invite the friends into his tent, offer them refreshment, learn each
one’s opinion, and to follow the best.
Nestor was the first to speak. “Great Atride,” he began, “if thou wilt
consider when it was the gods began to compass our ruin, thou wilt admit
that our misfortunes began on the day when thou didst unjustly insult
and abuse, to our great sorrow, that most valiant man whom even the
immortals have honored. We were all displeased and thou knowest how I
tried to dissuade thee. I think that even now we had better seek to
conciliate the angry man with flattering words and gifts.”
“Honored Nestor,” answered Agamemnon, “I will not deny that I was in the
wrong. It is true a single man, if chosen by the gods, is equal in might
to an army. But having offended I will gladly make amends and offer him
every atonement. I will give him rich gifts and he shall have, besides,
the maiden over whom we quarrelled. How glad I would have been to return
her as soon as my rage had cooled. If Jupiter will but grant me the good
fortune to destroy Priam’s mighty fortress, Achilles’ vessel shall be
heaped up with gold and silver and he may select twenty Trojan women for
himself, the fairest after Helen. And when we return to Argos I will
refuse him none of my daughters, should he wish to become my son-in-law,
and will present him with seven of my most populous cities as a wedding
gift. Thus will I honor him if he be willing to forget.”
To this Nestor answered: “Son of Atreus, thou dost offer princely gifts
which might well propitiate the proudest. Let us send messengers to him.
Let them be Ulysses and Ajax and the venerable Phœnix, whom his father
Peleus sent hither as his companion and friend. Let the heralds, Hodius
and Eurybates, accompany them.”
The encampment of the Myrmidons was on the seashore and they found
Achilles in his tent, apart from the others, playing the harp and
singing of heroic deeds. His good friend and comrade, Patroclus, sat
opposite him listening. Ajax and Ulysses entered first and Achilles
immediately put down his harp and came towards them. Patroclus also
arose to welcome his old comrades.
“Ye are heartily welcome, old friends,” began Achilles, “for I am not
angry with you. Sit on these cushions and, Patroclus, bring a tankard
and mix the wine, for we have honored guests here.”
After they had eaten and poured out a libation to the gods, Ulysses took
the goblet and drank to Achilles with a hearty handclasp. “Greeting to
thee, Pelide,” he began. “It is not food and drink we crave. But we are
troubled that thou art not on the battlefield. The Trojans have pushed
forward to the ships and nothing stops them. Jupiter has sent fiery
tokens to encourage them and the invincible Hector is hard upon us with
murder in his eye. Already he has threatened to burn the ships. Even at
night he does not retire, but encamps on the open field and the whole
plain is illumined by his campfires. No doubt he is now eagerly awaiting
daybreak to destroy us, for he fears neither gods nor men.
“Hear what Agamemnon offers thee—gifts so costly that they would suffice
to make any man rich and powerful. Ten pounds of gold will he give thee,
and seven new tripods, with twenty polished basins, besides twelve
magnificent horses and seven Lesbian slave women accompanying Briseïs’
daughter. And when we shall have conquered Priam’s city, thou shalt heap
thy ship with gold and bronze and take twenty of Troy’s fairest women
for thyself. And when we return to blessed Argos thou shalt be his
son-in-law and he will honor thee as his own son. But if thy hatred of
Atreus’ son is so great that thou canst not forgive him, then consider
the dire need of the Achaian people, who are ready to pay thee honor
like a god. Truly thou shalt earn great glory.”
Achilles answered him: “Noble son of Laërtes, let me open my heart to
thee frankly. Neither Agamemnon nor any other Greek can move me to fight
again for this ungrateful people. The coward and the hero enjoy equal
reputation among you. Why should I risk my life for others? As the
swallow feeds its young with the morsels which it denies itself, thus I
have spent my sweat and blood these many days for the ungrateful Achaian
people; have watched through many a restless night, fought brave men,
burning their houses and stealing away their women and children. I have
destroyed twelve populous cities in Troy by sea and eleven by land and
always delivered the spoils up to Agamemnon. He remained quietly at the
ships and took my plunder gladly, keeping always the greater part for
himself. Although each chieftain received a princely gift, he took mine
from me—the lovely woman who was dear to me as a spouse.
“Why did we accompany him hither? Was it not for the sake of beauteous
Helen? Do we not love our women even as he? Let him leave me in peace
and take counsel with thee, Ulysses, and with the other chieftains. For
Hector shall never again meet me in battle. To-morrow I shall launch my
ships, make offerings to the gods, and if thou wilt take notice, friend,
thou shalt see my ships at dawn, floating upon the Hellespont. If
Neptune favors me I may reach my native Phthia on the third day. There I
have riches enough, so that I shall not need the gifts of the haughty
king. No, should he offer me twenty times as much, and even a city like
unto the Egyptian Thebes, which, it is said, has one hundred gates out
of each of which issue two hundred men with horses and chariots in time
of war, even then he could not persuade me until he had atoned for his
insult.
“Let him find another husband, who is nobler and more powerful than I,
for his daughter. Should I reach home safely, my father will choose me a
noble consort, for there are many beautiful Achaian maidens who are not
wanting in rich dowries. I long for Phthia and already I foretaste the
joys of reigning over my father’s good subjects and enjoying a life of
plentiful ease by the side of a gentle spouse. Life is worth more than
all Agamemnon’s treasures, and once lost can never be regained.
“Dost know what fate my goddess mother hath revealed to me? Either I die
young upon the battlefield and my name shall be imperishable upon earth,
or I shall live to a great age without renown. Let it be as I have said,
and if ye would have a word of advice from me, it is this: ‘Sail away
before Hector burns your ships, for ye will never conquer Troy.’ Go,
friends, and take this message to the Greeks. But, Phœnix, stay and
return with me to our native land, if so it pleaseth thee; for I would
not compel thee.”
They were all silent until the gray-haired Phœnix began to speak. “If
thou hast determined to return, noble Achilles, how can I part from
thee, my son, for thy father confided thee to my care? Thy splendid
deeds have made me proud and happy; but now, forgive me, godlike
Achilles, now thy obstinate and unreasonable behavior grieves me. Calm
thy rage. A gentle disposition well becomes the hero, and even the anger
of the gods can be placated. How often have we seen them appeased by
sacrifices and penitential prayers. Yea, woe unto him who listens not to
repentant supplication and who hardens his heart against the enemy who
is ready to make atonement. Behold what gifts Agamemnon offers to win
thee. What is the wrong thou hast suffered in comparison with this great
honor? The ancient heroes of whom our fathers tell certainly were
subject to fits of anger, but they also allowed themselves to be
conciliated.”
“Phœnix, honored sire,” answered Achilles, “do not disturb my soul with
lamentations; rather as my friend shouldst thou hate him who hath
wronged me. But now repose thyself. As soon as dawn appears we will take
counsel whether to go or stay.” With a secret sign he bade Patroclus
prepare a soft couch for Phœnix.
Hastily Ajax arose, saying: “Let us be going, for we can scarce expect
to persuade this hard-hearted man, and our friends are awaiting us
anxiously. Cruel man, to cause all thy friends to suffer for one. How
oft have anger and revenge for a murdered brother been forgotten when
the murderer has offered gifts and tokens of repentance. But thou hast a
stony and implacable heart in thy bosom, and all this on account of a
girl. Oh be persuaded! We have come here as thy old friends.”
“Ajax, godlike son of Telamon,” answered Achilles, “thou hast read my
soul. But my heart is full of bitterness when I think of the man who
treated me so vilely before the Argives. Go and bear him the message. I
will not take up arms until the firebrands of the Trojans fall upon my
own ships. Terrible as he is, I think Hector will not venture near my
tents.” Perceiving that their eloquence was unavailing, the ambassadors
returned to Agamemnon’s tent. Phœnix, however, remained with Achilles.
The Greek princes were much cast down at the answer to their mission.
Only Diomedes was able to keep up their courage by his unshakable
confidence. “Atreus’ son,” he cried, “would thou hadst never implored
help of the Pelide or offered him rich presents. He was proud enough
before. Let him go or come; he will take up his lance as soon as his
heart speaks. But do thou, King Agamemnon, as soon as Eos’ rosy fingers
paint the sky, array thine horsemen and thy cohorts in front of the
ships and place thyself at the front. Let us now to rest, for it is late
and to-morrow we fight for our lives.”
All agreed. The goblets were filled once more, a libation poured out to
the gods, and then they separated, each one going to his own tent.