by Homer
had not Aphrodite Zeus’s daughter taken sharp notice;
she snapped the strap, the leather of a slaughtered ox;
and the helmet came empty in his massive hand.
Then the warrior hurled it among the well-greaved Achaeans,
whirling around, and his loyal companions caught it up;
and he himself rushed forward again, raging to kill
with his bronze spear—but Aphrodite snatched Alexandros away,380
easily, goddess that she was, enfolded in dense mist,
and set him down in his incense-perfumed bedroom.
At once she set out to summon Helen; and found her
by the lofty tower, thronged around by the women of Troy.
Grasping with her hand, she twitched Helen’s fragrant robe;
and addressed her in the likeness of an old woman, a woolworker of advanced years
who, when she lived in Lacedaemon,
used to fashion for her beautiful wools, and Helen loved her above all others;
in likeness of this woman divine Aphrodite addressed her:
“Come here; Alexandros summons you home;390
he is there, in his bedroom, on his bed that is inlaid with rings,
shining in beauty and raiment—you would not think
that he came from fighting a man, but rather that he was going
to a dance, or had just left the dance and was reclining.”
So she spoke; and stirred the anger in Helen’s breast.
And when she recognized the goddess’ beautiful cheeks
and ravishing breasts and gleaming eyes,
she stood amazed, and spoke out and addressed her by name:
“Mad one; why do you so desire to seduce me in this way?
Will you drive me to some further place among well-settled cities,400
to Phrygia or lovely Maeonia?
Perhaps there too is some mortal man beloved by you—
since now Menelaos has vanquished godlike Alexandros
and desires that I, loathsome as I am, be taken home.
Is it for this reason you stand here now conniving?
Go, sit yourself beside him, renounce the haunts of the gods,
never turn your feet to Olympus,
but suffer for him and tend him forever,
until he makes you either his wife, or his girl slave.
As for me, I will not go there—it would be shameful—410
to share the bed of that man. The Trojan women
will all blame me afterward; the sufferings I have in my heart are without end.”
Then in anger divine Aphrodite addressed her:
“Do not provoke me, wicked girl, lest I drop you in anger,
and hate you as much as I now terribly love you,
and devise painful hostilities, and you are caught in the middle of both,
Trojans and Danaans, and are destroyed by an evil fate.”
So she spoke; and Helen born of Zeus was frightened;
and she left, covering herself with her shining white robe,
in silence, and escaped notice of the women of Troy; and the divine one led her.420
When the women arrived at the splendid house of Alexandros,
the handmaids swiftly turned to their work,
and she, shining among women, entered into the high-roofed chamber;
then laughter-loving Aphrodite, taking a stool for her,
placed it opposite Alexandros, the goddess herself carrying it.
There Helen took her seat, daughter of Zeus who wields the aegis,
and averting her eyes, reviled her husband with her words:
“You’re back from war; would that you had died there
broken by the stronger man, he who in time past was my husband.
Yet before this you used to boast that you were stronger430
than Menelaos, beloved by Ares, in your courage and strength of hand and skill with spear;
go now and challenge Menelaos beloved by Ares,
to fight again, face-to-face—but no, I
recommend you give it up, and not fight fair-haired Menelaos
man-to-man, or recklessly do battle,
lest you be swiftly broken beneath his spear.”
But in answer Paris addressed her with his words:
“Do not, woman, rebuke my spirit with hard reproaches.
Now Menelaos is victorious with Athena’s help,
but another time I’ll defeat him; for the gods are with us too.440
But come, let us go to bed and pleasure ourselves with love;
for never at any time has desire so overwhelmed my senses—
not when I first carried you off from lovely Lacedaemon
and sailed in my seagoing ships,
and on that rocky island first joined in love and sex—
as now I desire you and sweet passion holds me.”
He spoke and led the way toward the bed; and his wife followed with him.
Then the two lay together in the decorated bed;
but Atreus’ son ranged along the host like a wild beast,
trying to catch sight of godlike Alexandros.450
But none of the Trojans, or their famous allies, was able
then to hand over Alexandros to Menelaos, beloved by Ares;
nor for love would they have concealed him, if any had seen him;
since he was detested by them all as dark death.
Then to them the lord of men Agamemnon spoke:
“Hear me, Trojans and Dardanians and allies.
The victory plainly belongs to Menelaos, beloved by Ares;
surrender Argive Helen and the possessions with her
and pay recompense, whatever is proper,
and which will stand even for men who come hereafter.”460
So spoke the son of Atreus, and the rest of the Achaeans gave their applause.
4.ILIÁDOS Δ
Now the gods were seated in assembly by Zeus’ side
on a floor of gold; and among them lady Hebe
poured nectar, and with goblets of gold
they pledged one another, looking down upon the city of the Trojans.
And straight off the son of Cronus set himself to provoke Hera
with taunting words, speaking willfully:
“Two of you goddesses are allies of Menelaos—
Argive Hera and Athena who stands guardian in Boeotia;
and even now they sit apart enjoying themselves
as they look on; yet laughter-loving Aphrodite in her turn10
has always stood by Paris and defends him from death.
And now she has saved him when he expected to die.
To be sure, victory belongs to Menelaos, beloved by Ares,
yet let us consider how this matter will be;
whether, then, we again rouse evil war and dread battle,
or cast friendship between the two sides.
And if somehow this plan should be desirable and pleasing to all,
then the city of lord Priam may still remain a place of habitation,
and Menelaos would take back Argive Helen.”
He spoke; and Athena and Hera muttered against him;20
for they sat close to each other, devising evil for the Trojans.
And Athena was silent and said not a thing,
seething at Zeus the father, as savage anger seized her;
but Hera’s spirit could not contain her anger and she spoke out:
“Most dread son of Cronus, what kind of word have you spoken?
How can you seek to render useless and futile my labor,
the labor for which I sweated my sweat and my horses grew weary
rallying the people, for the evil of Priam and his sons?
Do it; but not all the rest of us gods will approve.”
Greatly troubled, Zeus who gathers the clouds addressed her: 30
“Strange one; how ever did Priam and the sons of Priam
do you such grea
t wrong that you rage so furiously
to destroy the well-built city of Ilion?
If entering its gates and high walls
you could eat Priam and the sons of Priam raw,
and all the other Trojans, would you then be cured of your anger?
Do as you want; hereafter let this small quarrel not
become for you and me a cause of strife between us both.
But I will tell you something else, and put it away in your mind;
whenever I too should be bent on laying waste a city40
of my choice, where men dear to you live—
do not in any way put off my anger, but let me proceed;
for I grant this to you of my own will, although unwilling in heart.
For of all the cities beneath the sun and star-strewn heaven
lived in by earthly men,
of these is holy Ilion especially honored in my heart,
and Priam and the people of Priam of the fine ash-spear.
For never has my altar lacked fair portion,
of libations and smoke of burnt offerings; since we receive this as our honored privilege.”
Then answered him ox-eyed lady Hera:50
“In truth, three cities are dearest to me by far,
Argos and Sparta and Mycenae with its wide ways;
destroy these, whenever they become hateful to your heart.
I will not stand in defense of them against you nor grudge you.
For even if I did begrudge you and would have you not destroy them,
I could accomplish nothing, for all my objecting, since you are far the stronger.
And yet my labor must not be rendered worthless;
for I too am a god, and my parentage is from the same place as yours,
and devious Cronus bore me to be his eldest daughter.
For both these reasons, my birth and also because I am called60
your wife, and you are lord among all the immortals.
Yet come, let us yield to each other on these matters;
I to you, and you to me; the other immortal
gods will follow on. Quickly tell Athena
to enter into the dread fray of Trojans and Achaeans
and try to work it so that the Trojans first commence hostilities
against the triumphant Achaeans, in violation of their sacred oaths.”
Thus she spoke, nor did the father of men and gods refuse;
immediately he addressed Athena with winged words:
“With all speed go to the armies of the Trojans and Achaeans,70
and try to work it so that the Trojans first commence hostilities
against the triumphant Achaeans, in violation of their sacred oaths.”
So speaking, he urged Athena, who had been eager even before,
and she left, shooting down from the peaks of Olympus.
As when the son of devious Cronus hurls forth a star,
a glittering portent to sailors or a vast army of men,
from which shards of fire stream in multitude—
so Pallas Athena flashed toward earth,
and dashed down in their midst; amazement seized the onlookers,
both Trojans, breakers of horses, and strong-greaved Achaeans.80
Thus each man spoke as he looked to his neighbor:
“Now either war and evil and dread battle will again
take place, or Zeus will settle friendship between both sides,
Zeus who dispenses war for men.”
So each man would speak, Trojan and Achaean.
But Athena descended into the battle throng in the likeness of a Trojan man,
Laodokos, Antenor’s son, a powerful spearman,
searching for godlike Pandaros, in the hope that she could come upon him.
She found him, the strong blameless son of Lykaon,
standing by; around him were powerful ranks of shield-bearing90
men, who had followed him from the flowing waters of Aisepos.
Standing close, she addressed him with winged words:
“Surely, now, you would listen to me, son of wise Lykaon?
Would you dare let fly a sharp arrow against Menelaos?
You would win gratitude and honor in the eyes of all Trojans,
above all from king Alexandros.
You, before all others, would carry away shining gifts from him,
were he to behold warlike Menelaos, son of Atreus,
broken by your arrow and placed upon a sorrow-making funeral pyre.
Come, shoot an arrow at glorious Menelaos;100
pray to Lycian Apollo, famed for the bow, vowing
to perform a glorious sacrificial hecatomb of firstborn sheep
when you return home to the city of holy Zeleia.”
So spoke Athena, and persuaded the fool’s wits;
immediately he drew forth his bow, well-made from a running wild
goat, which in time past he himself—taking aim below its heart
as it descended from a rocky place while he watched in ambush—
had struck in the chest, and it fell on its back onto the rock.
The horns from its head had grown sixteen palms across;
and these a craftsman who worked in horn, laboring, joined together,110
and having smoothed it all skillfully, had fitted on a string-notch of gold.
And bending the bow for the string, Pandaros positioned it carefully,
bracing it against the ground; and his brave companions held their shields before him
lest the warrior sons of the Achaeans should rush him first
before he struck warlike Menelaos, Atreus’ son.
Then he removed the cover of his quiver, took out an arrow,
feathered and never shot before, a bearer of dark pain,
swiftly fitted the sharp-pointed arrow to the bowstring,
and prayed to wolf-born Apollo, famed for the bow, vowing
to perform a glorious sacrificial hecatomb of firstborn sheep120
when he returned home to the city of holy Zeleia.
He drew, holding together the arrow-notch and the oxhide bowstring;
then brought the bowstring to his chest, and the iron-point to the bow.
And when he had stretched the great bow to an arc,
the bow rang, the bowstring sang loud, and the sharp-pointed
arrow sprang forth, straining to fly to the battle-throng.
Nor, Menelaos, did the blessed immortal gods forget
you, and Zeus’ daughter was first to remember, she who carries off the spoils of war,
and who taking her stand in front of you warded off the sharp arrow.
She brushed it from his skin, just so, as when a mother130
brushes a fly from her child, when he lies down in sweet slumber;
with her own hand she directed it straight to where the golden buckles of his belt
came together and the two halves of the breastplates met.
The sharp arrow landed on the fitted belt;
through the decorated belt it drove,
and was pressed through his elaborate breastplate
and belt-guard that he wore to protect his skin, a barrier against shafts,
which best protected him; but it went straight through even this,
and the utmost point of the arrow grazed his skin.
Instantly a dark cloud of blood flowed from the wound;140
as when a woman of Maeonia or Caria stains ivory with
crimson dye, to be a cheek piece for horses—
it lies unused in a storeroom, and many horsemen pray that they
may bear it, but it lies away to delight the king,
both an ornament for the horse and an honor for the rider—
in such fashion, Menelaos, were your thighs stained with blood,
and your muscular calves down to your fine ankles.
Then Agamemnon lord of men shuddered
when he saw dark blood fl
owing down from the wound,
and Menelaos beloved by Ares shuddered too,150
but when he saw the binding thread and arrow barb were outside,
his spirit was rallied again back in his breast.
But groaning deeply lord Agamemnon spoke among their comrades,
holding Menelaos by the hand, and they groaned in response:
“Beloved brother, the oath I cut was your death,
when I put you forward before the Achaeans to fight alone with the Trojans,
seeing now that the Trojans have struck you, and trampled underfoot the sacred treaty.
Yet in no way is our oath in vain, and the blood of lambs,
and the unmixed libations and pledges of hand that we trusted.
For even if the Olympian does not accomplish this at once,160
he will accomplish it in full, though late, and they will pay greatly
with their heads and their women and their children.
For I know this well in my mind and in my heart;
there will some time be a day when holy Ilion is destroyed,
and Priam and the people of Priam of the fine ash-spear—
Zeus, son of Cronus, who sits on high, dwelling near heaven,
himself will brandish at them all his storm-black aegis,
in rage for this deception. These things will not pass unaccomplished;
but my grief will be bitter for your sake, O Menelaos,
if you should die and fulfill your life’s destiny,170
and I return disgraced to the parched land of Argos.
Immediately the Achaeans would turn their thoughts to their fatherland,
and we would leave as trophy for Priam and the Trojans
Helen of Argos; a field would rot your bones
as you lay in Troy on an unaccomplished mission.
And thus will some Trojan speak in his overweening manhood,
as he leaps onto the tomb of glorious Menelaos:
‘Would that Agamemnon brought his anger to completion in this way against all his enemies,
as he once led an army of Achaeans here to no purpose,
and then went home to his beloved fatherland180
with his empty ships, leaving behind brave Menelaos.’
Thus in time to come a man will speak; then let the broad earth gape beneath me.”
Then cheering him, fair-haired Menelaos addressed him:
“Courage, do not in any way alarm the Achaean people.
The sharp arrow did not fix in a mortal place, but before it did
my war-belt, all-gleaming, protected me, and beneath it
the underbelt and belt-guard, which bronze-working men toiled to make.”
Then answering him lord Agamemnon spoke: