Ἰλιάδος Θ

Saffron-robed Dawn spread over all the earth,

and Zeus, who delights in thunder, called the gods to council

upon the topmost peak of many-ridged Olympus;

he spoke himself, and all the gods below him listened:

"Hear me, all you gods and all you goddesses,

that I may speak what the heart in my breast commands.

Let no god, whether female or male,

attempt to cut across my word, but all together

approve it, so I may bring these deeds to pass most swiftly.

Whomever I perceive apart from all the gods,

going willingly to aid the Trojans or Danaans,

shall come back beaten and dishonored to Olympus,

or I shall seize and hurl him into murky Tartarus,

far off, where the deepest gulf lies under earth,

where gates are made of iron, the threshold bronze,

as far beneath Hades as heaven is above the earth.

Then he shall know how far I am the strongest of all gods.

Come then, you gods, make trial, so you all may know:

hang down a golden cable out of heaven,

and all take hold, every god and goddess;

yet you could never drag from heaven down to earth

Zeus, highest counselor, though you labored hard.

But whenever I myself should willingly choose to pull,

I would draw up the earth itself and sea itself;

then I would bind the cable round a peak of Olympus,

and all of them would hang suspended in the air.

So far above both gods and mortals do I stand."

So he spoke, and they all became still in silence;

astonished at his words, for he had spoken sternly.

At last the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke among them:

"Our father, son of Cronos, highest of all rulers,

we too know well your strength cannot be resisted.

Yet still we mourn the Danaan spearmen,

who now shall fill their wretched fate and perish.

Still, we shall keep away from war, as you command;

but we shall offer counsel to the Argives that may help them,

so all do not perish beneath your wrath."

Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer smiled and spoke to her:

"Take heart, Tritogeneia, my dear child. I do not speak

from a willing heart; I mean to deal with you gently."

So speaking, he yoked beneath his car his bronze-hoofed horses,

swift-flying, with their flowing manes of gold;

he clothed his own body round in gold and took

his well-made golden whip, then mounted his chariot,

and lashed them on; the willing pair flew forward

midway between the earth and starry heaven.

He came to many-springed Ida, mother of wild beasts,

to Gargaron, where he had his precinct and fragrant altar.

There the father of men and gods halted his horses,

loosed them from the car, and poured thick mist around them.

He sat upon the peaks, exulting in his glory,

gazing on Troy's city and the ships of the Achaeans.

The long-haired Achaeans took their meal

swiftly by the huts, and there put on their armor.

The Trojans, on the other side, armed throughout the city,

fewer in number, yet still intent on fighting

under harsh need, for their children and their wives.

All gates swung open and the army poured outside,

footmen and horsemen; and a great din arose.

Now when the two sides, coming together, met in one place,

they dashed together shield on shield, and spears, and the fury of men

clad in bronze corselets; and the bossed shields

pressed against one another, and a great din arose.

There at once were the groaning and the boasting of men,

of those who slew and those who were slain, and the earth ran with blood.

As long as morning lasted and the sacred day grew stronger,

the weapons struck both sides, and the people fell.

But when the Sun had reached the middle of heaven,

the father raised his golden scales and stretched them level;

within he set two fates of death that lays men low,

of the horse-taming Trojans and the bronze-clad Achaeans,

then held the midpoint; the Achaeans' fated day sank down.

The Achaeans' fates settled upon the all-nurturing earth,

while those of Troy rose upward toward broad heaven.

Then from Ida he thundered terribly and hurled

a blazing flash among the Achaean host; they saw it,

stood stunned, and pale fear seized them all.

Then neither Idomeneus dared remain, nor Agamemnon,

nor did the two Ajaxes hold, attendants of Ares.

Nestor alone remained, the Gerenian guard of the Achaeans,

not willingly: a horse was stricken, shot by an arrow

godlike Paris, husband of lovely-haired Helen.

It struck the crown, where first the horse's mane-hairs

grow rooted in the skull, the deadliest spot.

In pain it reared; the arrow entered through the brain,

and rolling round the bronze it threw the team in tumult.

While the old man rushed to cut the trace-horse's harness

with his sword, Hector's swift horses came

through the rout, bearing their bold charioteer,

Hector; and the old man there would have lost his life

had Diomedes, good at the war-cry, not swiftly seen.

He shouted terribly, urging Odysseus:

"Odysseus, son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, of many devices,

why flee, turning your back like a coward in the press?

Beware that as you flee no one plant a spear in your back.

Stand fast, so we may drive the savage man from Nestor."

So he spoke, but much-enduring godlike Odysseus did not heed him,

but swept on past toward the hollow ships of the Achaeans.

The son of Tydeus, though alone, went among the foremost fighters

and stood before the horses of Neleus' aged son,

and speaking to him, he addressed him with winged words:

"Old man, young warriors wear you down sorely;

your strength is broken, and harsh age attends you,

your attendant is feeble and your horses slow.

Come, mount my chariot, so you may see

what the horses of Tros are like, trained across the plain

to chase swiftly here and there, and to flee.

Once I took them from Aeneas, those two devisers of rout.

Let these two attendants tend your team, while we two