Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles
son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon
the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it
send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero
did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures,
for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from
the day on which the son of Atreus, king
of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with
one another.
And which of the gods was it that set them
on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and
Leto; for he was angry with the king and
sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the
people, because the son of Atreus had
dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses
had come to the ships of the Achaeans to
free his daughter, and had brought with him a
great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand
the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a
suppliant's wreath and he besought the
Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of
Atreus, who were their chiefs.
"Sons of Atreus," he cried, "and all other
Achaeans, may the gods who dwell in
Olympus grant you to sack the city of
Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but
free my daughter, and accept a ransom for
her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove."
On this the rest of the Achaeans with one
voice were for respecting the priest and
taking the ransom that he offered; but not
so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him
and sent him roughly away. "Old man," said
he, "let me not find you tarrying about our
ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your
sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit
you nothing. I will not free her. She
shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her
own home, busying herself with her loom
and visiting my couch; so go, and do not
provoke me or it shall be the worse for
you."
The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a
word he spoke, but went by the shore of
the sounding sea and prayed apart to King
Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne. "Hear
me," he cried, "O god of the silver bow,
that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest
Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of
Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple
with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones
in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and
let your arrows avenge these my tears upon
the Danaans."
Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his
prayer. He came down furious from the summits
of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver
upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on
his back with the rage that trembled
within him. He sat himself down away from the
ships with a face as dark as night, and
his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in
the midst of them. First he smote their
mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed
his shafts at the people themselves, and
all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.
For nine whole days he shot his arrows
among the people, but upon the tenth day
Achilles called them in assembly- moved
thereto by Juno, who saw the Achaeans in
their death-throes and had compassion upon
them. Then, when they were got together,
he rose and spoke among them.
"Son of Atreus," said he, "I deem that we
should now turn roving home if we would
escape destruction, for we are being cut
down by war and pestilence at once. Let us
ask some priest or prophet, or some reader
of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove)
who can tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so
angry, and say whether it is for some vow
that we have broken, or hecatomb that we
have not offered, and whether he will accept
the savour of lambs and goats without
blemish, so as to take away the plague from us."
With these words he sat down, and Calchas
son of Thestor, wisest of augurs, who
knew things past present and to come, rose
to speak. He it was who had guided the
Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius,
through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo
had inspired him. With all sincerity and
goodwill he addressed them thus:-
"Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me
tell you about the anger of King Apollo, I will
therefore do so; but consider first and
swear that you will stand by me heartily in word
and deed, for I know that I shall offend
one who rules the Argives with might, to whom
all the Achaeans are in subjection. A
plain man cannot stand against the anger of a king,
who if he swallow his displeasure now,
will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it.
Consider, therefore, whether or no you
will protect me."
And Achilles answered, "Fear not, but
speak as it is borne in upon you from heaven, for
by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, and
whose oracles you reveal to us, not a
Danaan at our ships shall lay his hand
upon you, while I yet live to look upon the face of
the earth- no, not though you name
Agamemnon himself, who is by far the foremost of
the Achaeans."
Thereon the seer spoke boldly. "The god,"
he said, "is angry neither about vow nor
hecatomb, but for his priest's sake, whom
Agamemnon has dishonoured, in that he
would not free his daughter nor take a
ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils
upon us, and will yet send others. He will
not deliver the Danaans from this pestilence till
Agamemnon has restored the girl without
fee or ransom to her father, and has sent a
holy hecatomb to Chryse. Thus we may
perhaps appease him."
With these words he sat down, and
Agamemnon rose in anger. His heart was black
with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he
scowled on Calchas and said, "Seer of evil,
you never yet prophesied smooth things
concerning me, but have ever loved to foretell
that which was evil. You have brought me
neither comfort nor performance; and now
you come seeing among Danaans, and saying
that Apollo has plagued us because I
would not take a ransom for this girl, the
daughter of Chryses. I have set my heart on
keeping her in my own house, for I love
her better even than my own wife
Clytemnestra, whose peer she is alike in
form and feature, in understanding and
accomplishments. Still I will give her up
if I must, for I would have the people live, not
die; but you must find me a prize instead,
or I alone among the Argives shall be without
one. This is not well; for you behold, all
of you, that my prize is to go elsewhither."
And Achilles answered, "Most noble son of
Atreus, covetous beyond all mankind, how
shall the Achaeans find you another prize?
We have no common store from which to
take one. Those we took from the cities
have been awarded; we cannot disallow the
awards that have been made already. Give
this girl, therefore, to the god, and if ever
Jove grants us to sack the city of Troy we
will requite you three and fourfold."
Then Agamemnon said, "Achilles, valiant
though you be, you shall not thus outwit me.
You shall not overreach and you shall not
persuade me. Are you to keep your own
prize, while I sit tamely under my loss
and give up the girl at your bidding? Let the
Achaeans find me a prize in fair exchange
to my liking, or I will come and take your
own, or that of Ajax or of Ulysses; and he
to whomsoever I may come shall rue my
coming. But of this we will take thought
hereafter; for the present, let us draw a ship into
the sea, and find a crew for her
expressly; let us put a hecatomb on board, and let us
send Chryseis also; further, let some
chief man among us be in command, either Ajax,
or Idomeneus, or yourself, son of Peleus,
mighty warrior that you are, that we may offer
sacrifice and appease the the anger of the
god."
Achilles scowled at him and answered, "You
are steeped in insolence and of gain.
With what heart can any of the Achaeans do
your bidding, either on foray or in open
fighting? I came not warring here for any
ill the Trojans had done me. I have no quarrel
with them. They have not raided my cattle
nor my horses, nor cut down my harvests on
the rich plains of Phthia; for between me
and them there is a great space, both mountain
and sounding sea. We have followed you,
Sir Insolence! for your pleasure, not ours- to
gain satisfaction from the Trojans for
your shameless self and for Menelaus. You forget
this, and threaten to rob me of the prize
for which I have toiled, and which the sons of
the Achaeans have given me. Never when the
Achaeans sack any rich city of the
Trojans do I receive so good a prize as
you do, though it is my hands that do the better
part of the fighting. When the sharing
comes, your share is far the largest, and I,
forsooth, must go back to my ships, take
what I can get and be thankful, when my
labour of fighting is done. Now,
therefore, I shall go back to Phthia; it will be much
better for me to return home with my
ships, for I will not stay here dishonoured to
gather gold and substance for you."
And Agamemnon answered, "Fly if you will,
I shall make you no prayers to stay you. I
have others here who will do me honour,
and above all Jove, the lord of counsel. There
is no king here so hateful to me as you
are, for you are ever quarrelsome and ill
affected. What though you be brave? Was it
not heaven that made you so? Go home,
then, with your ships and comrades to lord
it over the Myrmidons. I care neither for you
nor for your anger; and thus will I do:
since Phoebus Apollo is taking Chryseis from me,
I shall send her with my ship and my
followers, but I shall come to your tent and take
your own prize Briseis, that you may learn
how much stronger I am than you are, and
that another may fear to set himself up as
equal or comparable with me."
The son of Peleus was furious, and his
heart within his shaggy breast was divided
whether to draw his sword, push the others
aside, and kill the son of Atreus, or to
restrain himself and check his anger.
While he was thus in two minds, and was drawing
his mighty sword from its scabbard,
Minerva came down from heaven (for Juno had
sent her in the love she bore to them
both), and seized the son of Peleus by his yellow
hair, visible to him alone, for of the
others no man could see her. Achilles turned in
amaze, and by the fire that flashed from
her eyes at once knew that she was Minerva.
"Why are you here," said he, "daughter of
aegis-bearing Jove? To see the pride of
Agamemnon, son of Atreus? Let me tell you-
and it shall surely be- he shall pay for this
insolence with his life."
And Minerva said, "I come from heaven, if
you will hear me, to bid you stay your anger.
Juno has sent me, who cares for both of
you alike. Cease, then, this brawling, and do
not draw your sword; rail at him if you
will, and your railing will not be vain, for I tell
you- and it shall surely be- that you
shall hereafter receive gifts three times as splendid
by reason of this present insult. Hold,
therefore, and obey."
"Goddess," answered Achilles, "however
angry a man may be, he must do as you two
command him. This will be best, for the
gods ever hear the prayers of him who has
obeyed them."
He stayed his hand on the silver hilt of
his sword, and thrust it back into the scabbard as
Minerva bade him. Then she went back to
Olympus among the other gods, and to the
house of aegis-bearing Jove.
But the son of Peleus again began railing
at the son of Atreus, for he was still in a rage.
"Wine-bibber," he cried, "with the face of
a dog and the heart of a hind, you never dare
to go out with the host in fight, nor yet
with our chosen men in ambuscade. You shun
this as you do death itself. You had
rather go round and rob his prizes from any man
who contradicts you. You devour your
people, for you are king over a feeble folk;
otherwise, son of Atreus, henceforward you
would insult no man. Therefore I say, and
swear it with a great oath- nay, by this
my sceptre which shalt sprout neither leaf nor
shoot, nor bud anew from the day on which
it left its parent stem upon the mountains-
for the axe stripped it of leaf and bark,
and now the sons of the Achaeans bear it as
judges and guardians of the decrees of
heaven- so surely and solemnly do I swear that
hereafter they shall look fondly for
Achilles and shall not find him. In the day of your
distress, when your men fall dying by the
murderous hand of Hector, you shall not know
how to help them, and shall rend your
heart with rage for the hour when you offered
insult to the bravest of the
Achaeans."
With this the son of Peleus dashed his
gold-bestudded sceptre on the ground and took
his seat, while the son of Atreus was
beginning fiercely from his place upon the other
side. Then uprose smooth-tongued Nestor,
the facile speaker of the Pylians, and the
words fell from his lips sweeter than
honey. Two generations of men born and bred in
Pylos had passed away under his rule, and
he was now reigning over the third. With all
sincerity and goodwill, therefore, he
addressed them thus:-
"Of a truth," he said, "a great sorrow has
befallen the Achaean land. Surely Priam with
his sons would rejoice, and the Trojans be
glad at heart if they could hear this quarrel
between you two, who are so excellent in
fight and counsel. I am older than either of
you; therefore be guided by me. Moreover I
have been the familiar friend of men even
greater than you are, and they did not
disregard my counsels. Never again can I behold
such men as Pirithous and Dryas shepherd
of his people, or as Caeneus, Exadius,
godlike Polyphemus, and Theseus son of
Aegeus, peer of the immortals. These were
the mightiest men ever born upon this
earth: mightiest were they, and when they fought
the fiercest tribes of mountain savages
they utterly overthrew them. I came from distant
Pylos, and went about among them, for they
would have me come, and I fought as it
was in me to do. Not a man now living
could withstand them, but they heard my words,
and were persuaded by them. So be it also
with yourselves, for this is the more
excellent way. Therefore, Agamemnon,
though you be strong, take not this girl away,
for the sons of the Achaeans have already
given her to Achilles; and you, Achilles, strive
not further with the king, for no man who
by the grace of Jove wields a sceptre has like
honour with Agamemnon. You are strong, and
have a goddess for your mother; but
Agamemnon is stronger than you, for he has
more people under him. Son of Atreus,
check your anger, I implore you; end this
quarrel with Achilles, who in the day of battle
is a tower of strength to the
Achaeans."
And Agamemnon answered, "Sir, all that you
have said is true, but this fellow must
needs become our lord and master: he must
be lord of all, king of all, and captain of all,
and this shall hardly be. Granted that the
gods have made him a great warrior, have they
also given him the right to speak with
railing?"
Achilles interrupted him. "I should be a
mean coward," he cried, "were I to give in to
you in all things. Order other people
about, not me, for I shall obey no longer.
Furthermore I say- and lay my saying to
your heart- I shall fight neither you nor any man
about this girl, for those that take were
those also that gave. But of all else that is at my
ship you shall carry away nothing by
force. Try, that others may see; if you do, my
spear shall be reddened with your
blood."
When they had quarrelled thus angrily,
they rose, and broke up the assembly at the
ships of the Achaeans. The son of Peleus
went back to his tents and ships with the son
of Menoetius and his company, while
Agamemnon drew a vessel into the water and
chose a crew of twenty oarsmen. He
escorted Chryseis on board and sent moreover a
hecatomb for the god. And Ulysses went as
captain.
These, then, went on board and sailed
their ways over the sea. But the son of Atreus
bade the people purify themselves; so they
purified themselves and cast their filth into
the sea. Then they offered hecatombs of
bulls and goats without blemish on the
sea-shore, and the smoke with the savour
of their sacrifice rose curling up towards
heaven.
Thus did they busy themselves throughout
the host. But Agamemnon did not forget the
threat that he had made Achilles, and
called his trusty messengers and squires
Talthybius and Eurybates. "Go," said he,
"to the tent of Achilles, son of Peleus; take
Briseis by the hand and bring her hither;
if he will not give her I shall come with others
and take her- which will press him
harder."
He charged them straightly further and
dismissed them, whereon they went their way
sorrowfully by the seaside, till they came
to the tents and ships of the Myrmidons. They
found Achilles sitting by his tent and his
ships, and ill-pleased he was when he beheld
them. They stood fearfully and reverently
before him, and never a word did they speak,
but he knew them and said, "Welcome,
heralds, messengers of gods and men; draw
near; my quarrel is not with you but with
Agamemnon who has sent you for the girl
Briseis. Therefore, Patroclus, bring her
and give her to them, but let them be witnesses
by the blessed gods, by mortal men, and by
the fierceness of Agamemnon's anger, that
if ever again there be need of me to save
the people from ruin, they shall seek and they
shall not find. Agamemnon is mad with rage
and knows not how to look before and
after that the Achaeans may fight by their
ships in safety."
Patroclus did as his dear comrade had
bidden him. He brought Briseis from the tent and
gave her over to the heralds, who took her
with them to the ships of the Achaeans- and
the woman was loth to go. Then Achilles
went all alone by the side of the hoar sea,
weeping and looking out upon the boundless
waste of waters. He raised his hands in
prayer to his immortal mother, "Mother,"
he cried, "you bore me doomed to live but for
a little season; surely Jove, who thunders
from Olympus, might have made that little
glorious. It is not so. Agamemnon, son of
Atreus, has done me dishonour, and has
robbed me of my prize by force."
As he spoke he wept aloud, and his mother
heard him where she was sitting in the
depths of the sea hard by the old man her
father. Forthwith she rose as it were a grey
mist out of the waves, sat down before him
as he stood weeping, caressed him with her
hand, and said, "My son, why are you
weeping? What is it that grieves you? Keep it not
from me, but tell me, that we may know it
together."
Achilles drew a deep sigh and said, "You
know it; why tell you what you know well
already? We went to Thebe the strong city
of Eetion, sacked it, and brought hither the
spoil. The sons of the Achaeans shared it
duly among themselves, and chose lovely
Chryseis as the meed of Agamemnon; but
Chryses, priest of Apollo, came to the ships
of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and
brought with him a great ransom: moreover he
bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo,
wreathed with a suppliant's wreath, and he
besought the Achaeans, but most of all the
two sons of Atreus who were their chiefs.
"On this the rest of the Achaeans with one
voice were for respecting the priest and
taking the ransom that he offered; but not
so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him
and sent him roughly away. So he went back
in anger, and Apollo, who loved him
dearly, heard his prayer. Then the god
sent a deadly dart upon the Argives, and the
people died thick on one another, for the
arrows went everywhither among the wide
host of the Achaeans. At last a seer in
the fulness of his knowledge declared to us the
oracles of Apollo, and I was myself first
to say that we should appease him. Whereon
the son of Atreus rose in anger, and
threatened that which he has since done. The
Achaeans are now taking the girl in a ship
to Chryse, and sending gifts of sacrifice to the
god; but the heralds have just taken from
my tent the daughter of Briseus, whom the
Achaeans had awarded to myself.
"Help your brave son, therefore, if you
are able. Go to Olympus, and if you have ever
done him service in word or deed, implore
the aid of Jove. Ofttimes in my father's
house have I heard you glory in that you
alone of the immortals saved the son of Saturn
from ruin, when the others, with Juno,
Neptune, and Pallas Minerva would have put him
in bonds. It was you, goddess, who
delivered him by calling to Olympus the
hundred-handed monster whom gods call
Briareus, but men Aegaeon, for he is stronger
even than his father; when therefore he
took his seat all-glorious beside the son of
Saturn, the other gods were afraid, and
did not bind him. Go, then, to him, remind him
of all this, clasp his knees, and bid him
give succour to the Trojans. Let the Achaeans
be hemmed in at the sterns of their ships,
and perish on the sea-shore, that they may
reap what joy they may of their king, and
that Agamemnon may rue his blindness in
offering insult to the foremost of the
Achaeans."
Thetis wept and answered, "My son, woe is
me that I should have borne or suckled
you. Would indeed that you had lived your
span free from all sorrow at your ships, for it
is all too brief; alas, that you should be
at once short of life and long of sorrow above
your peers: woe, therefore, was the hour
in which I bore you; nevertheless I will go to
the snowy heights of Olympus, and tell
this tale to Jove, if he will hear our prayer:
meanwhile stay where you are with your
ships, nurse your anger against the Achaeans,
and hold aloof from fight. For Jove went
yesterday to Oceanus, to a feast among the
Ethiopians, and the other gods went with
him. He will return to Olympus twelve days
hence; I will then go to his mansion paved
with bronze and will beseech him; nor do I
doubt that I shall be able to persuade
him."
On this she left him, still furious at the
loss of her that had been taken from him.
Meanwhile Ulysses reached Chryse with the
hecatomb. When they had come inside the
harbour they furled the sails and laid
them in the ship's hold; they slackened the
forestays, lowered the mast into its
place, and rowed the ship to the place where they
would have her lie; there they cast out
their mooring-stones and made fast the hawsers.
They then got out upon the sea-shore and
landed the hecatomb for Apollo; Chryseis
also left the ship, and Ulysses led her to
the altar to deliver her into the hands of her
father. "Chryses," said he, "King
Agamemnon has sent me to bring you back your child,
and to offer sacrifice to Apollo on behalf
of the Danaans, that we may propitiate the
god, who has now brought sorrow upon the
Argives."
So saying he gave the girl over to her
father, who received her gladly, and they ranged
the holy hecatomb all orderly round the
altar of the god. They washed their hands and
took up the barley-meal to sprinkle over
the victims, while Chryses lifted up his hands
and prayed aloud on their behalf. "Hear
me," he cried, "O god of the silver bow, that
protectest Chryse and holy Cilla, and
rulest Tenedos with thy might. Even as thou didst
hear me aforetime when I prayed, and didst
press hardly upon the Achaeans, so hear
me yet again, and stay this fearful
pestilence from the Danaans."
Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his
prayer. When they had done praying and
sprinkling the barley-meal, they drew back
the heads of the victims and killed and
flayed them. They cut out the thigh-bones,
wrapped them round in two layers of fat, set
some pieces of raw meat on the top of
them, and then Chryses laid them on the wood
fire and poured wine over them, while the
young men stood near him with five-pronged
spits in their hands. When the thigh-bones
were burned and they had tasted the inward
meats, they cut the rest up small, put the
pieces upon the spits, roasted them till they
were done, and drew them off: then, when
they had finished their work and the feast
was ready, they ate it, and every man had
his full share, so that all were satisfied. As
soon as they had had enough to eat and
drink, pages filled the mixing-bowl with wine
and water and handed it round, after
giving every man his drink-offering.
Thus all day long the young men worshipped
the god with song, hymning him and
chaunting the joyous paean, and the god
took pleasure in their voices; but when the sun
went down, and it came on dark, they laid
themselves down to sleep by the stern cables
of the ship, and when the child of
morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared they again
set sail for the host of the Achaeans.
Apollo sent them a fair wind, so they raised their
mast and hoisted their white sails aloft.
As the sail bellied with the wind the ship flew
through the deep blue water, and the foam
hissed against her bows as she sped
onward. When they reached the
wide-stretching host of the Achaeans, they drew the
vessel ashore, high and dry upon the
sands, set her strong props beneath her, and went
their ways to their own tents and
ships.
But Achilles abode at his ships and nursed
his anger. He went not to the honourable
assembly, and sallied not forth to fight,
but gnawed at his own heart, pining for battle
and the war-cry.
Now after twelve days the immortal gods
came back in a body to Olympus, and Jove
led the way. Thetis was not unmindful of
the charge her son had laid upon her, so she
rose from under the sea and went through
great heaven with early morning to Olympus,
where she found the mighty son of Saturn
sitting all alone upon its topmost ridges. She
sat herself down before him, and with her
left hand seized his knees, while with her right
she caught him under the chin, and
besought him, saying-
"Father Jove, if I ever did you service in
word or deed among the immortals, hear my
prayer, and do honour to my son, whose
life is to be cut short so early. King
Agamemnon has dishonoured him by taking
his prize and keeping her. Honour him then
yourself, Olympian lord of counsel, and
grant victory to the Trojans, till the Achaeans
give my son his due and load him with
riches in requital."
Jove sat for a while silent, and without a
word, but Thetis still kept firm hold of his
knees, and besought him a second time.
"Incline your head," said she, "and promise me
surely, or else deny me- for you have
nothing to fear- that I may learn how greatly you
disdain me."
At this Jove was much troubled and
answered, "I shall have trouble if you set me
quarrelling with Juno, for she will
provoke me with her taunting speeches; even now she
is always railing at me before the other
gods and accusing me of giving aid to the
Trojans. Go back now, lest she should find
out. I will consider the matter, and will bring
it about as wish. See, I incline my head
that you believe me. This is the most solemn that
I can give to any god. I never recall my
word, or deceive, or fail to do what I say, when
I have nodded my head."
As he spoke the son of Saturn bowed his
dark brows, and the ambrosial locks swayed
on his immortal head, till vast Olympus
reeled.
When the pair had thus laid their plans,
they parted- Jove to his house, while the
goddess quitted the splendour of Olympus,
and plunged into the depths of the sea. The
gods rose from their seats, before the
coming of their sire. Not one of them dared to
remain sitting, but all stood up as he
came among them. There, then, he took his seat.
But Juno, when she saw him, knew that he
and the old merman's daughter, silver-footed
Thetis, had been hatching mischief, so she
at once began to upbraid him. "Trickster,"
she cried, "which of the gods have you
been taking into your counsels now? You are
always settling matters in secret behind
my back, and have never yet told me, if you
could help it, one word of your
intentions."
"Juno," replied the sire of gods and men,
"you must not expect to be informed of all my
counsels. You are my wife, but you would
find it hard to understand them. When it is
proper for you to hear, there is no one,
god or man, who will be told sooner, but when
I mean to keep a matter to myself, you
must not pry nor ask questions."
"Dread son of Saturn," answered Juno,
"what are you talking about? I? Pry and ask
questions? Never. I let you have your own
way in everything. Still, I have a strong
misgiving that the old merman's daughter
Thetis has been talking you over, for she was
with you and had hold of your knees this
self-same morning. I believe, therefore, that
you have been promising her to give glory
to Achilles, and to kill much people at the
ships of the Achaeans."
"Wife," said Jove, "I can do nothing but
you suspect me and find it out. You will take
nothing by it, for I shall only dislike
you the more, and it will go harder with you.
Granted that it is as you say; I mean to
have it so; sit down and hold your tongue as I
bid you for if I once begin to lay my
hands about you, though all heaven were on your
side it would profit you nothing."
On this Juno was frightened, so she curbed
her stubborn will and sat down in silence.
But the heavenly beings were disquieted
throughout the house of Jove, till the cunning
workman Vulcan began to try and pacify his
mother Juno. "It will be intolerable," said
he, "if you two fall to wrangling and
setting heaven in an uproar about a pack of mortals.
If such ill counsels are to prevail, we
shall have no pleasure at our banquet. Let me then
advise my mother- and she must herself
know that it will be better- to make friends with
my dear father Jove, lest he again scold
her and disturb our feast. If the Olympian
Thunderer wants to hurl us all from our
seats, he can do so, for he is far the strongest,
so give him fair words, and he will then
soon be in a good humour with us."
As he spoke, he took a double cup of
nectar, and placed it in his mother's hand. "Cheer
up, my dear mother," said he, "and make
the best of it. I love you dearly, and should be
very sorry to see you get a thrashing;
however grieved I might be, I could not help for
there is no standing against Jove. Once
before when I was trying to help you, he caught
me by the foot and flung me from the
heavenly threshold. All day long from morn till
eve, was I falling, till at sunset I came
to ground in the island of Lemnos, and there I lay,
with very little life left in me, till the
Sintians came and tended me."
Juno smiled at this, and as she smiled she
took the cup from her son's hands. Then
Vulcan drew sweet nectar from the
mixing-bowl, and served it round among the gods,
going from left to right; and the blessed
gods laughed out a loud applause as they saw
him ing bustling about the heavenly
mansion.
Thus through the livelong day to the going
down of the sun they feasted, and every one
had his full share, so that all were
satisfied. Apollo struck his lyre, and the Muses lifted
up their sweet voices, calling and
answering one another. But when the sun's glorious
light had faded, they went home to bed,
each in his own abode, which lame Vulcan with
his consummate skill had fashioned for
them. So Jove, the Olympian Lord of Thunder,
hied him to the bed in which he always
slept; and when he had got on to it he went to
sleep, with Juno of the golden throne by
his side.