—we seem to have the traditional divine king of the Thracian tribes about Pangaion, seen through the eyes of Greek romance. He is the son of the greatest of Rivers and the Muse of the Mountain: she is simply “The Muse,” otherwise nameless, and we are lost if we try to bind her down to the identity of any Greek goddess. Like many Thracian heroes Rhesus has a dash of the Sun-god in him, the burning targe, the white horses and the splendour. Like them he is a boaster and a deep drinker, a child of battle and of song. Like other divine kings he dies in his youth and strength, and keeps watch over his people from some “feasting presence, full of light,” where he lies among the buried silver-veins of Pangaion. If the uttermost need comes, doubtless he will wake again. When the Athenians began making their dangerous settlements on the coast of Thrace—ten thousand settlers were massacred by Rhesus’s people about 465 B.C.: Amphipolis not fully established till 437—they found the legend of Rhesus in the air, and eventually they thought it prudent to send for his hallowed bones from the Troad, where they were supposed to be buried, and give them a tomb in the Athenian colony. Possibly that pacified him. And his legend in the mouth of the poets seemed perhaps like the story of his own mountaineers, multitudes of strong men, stormy and chivalrous, terrible in onset, who somehow in the end melted away before the skill and persistent courage of a civilised Greek city.VARIOUS VOICES.: It is a cloudy but moonlight night on the plain before Troy. The Trojans and their allies have won a decisive victory and are camping on the open field close to the Greek outposts. The scene is in front of a rude tent or hut that has been set up for HECTOR, the Trojan leader. A watch-fire burns low in front. Far off at the back can be seen rows of watch-fires in the Greek camp. The road to Troy is in front to the left; the road to Mount Ida leads far away to the right. All is silence; then a noise outside. Enter tumultuously a band of Trojan Pickets.On to the Prince’s quarters!—Ho!Who is awake? What man-at-arms,Or squire or groom?—Let Hector knowNew rumour of alarmsFrom sentinels who stand at markThe four long watches of the dark,While others sleep.—Uplift thine head,O Hector! On thine elbow rise,Unhood the eagle of thine eyes,Up from thy leaf-strewn bed!—Lord Hector!HECTOR: (coming out from the tent).Who goes there? Who cries?A friend? The watchword!... By what rightDo men come prowling in the nightAcross my quarters? Come! Speak out.LEADER.:A picket, Lord.HECTOR.:In such a rout?LEADER.:Be not afraid, Lord.HECTOR.:I am not.Is there an ambush? No? Then what,In God’s name, brings you from your postWith no clear tale to speak,To spread this turmoil through a hostThat lies in harness—do ye allKnow nothing?—out against the wallAnd gateways of the Greek?CHORUS.: (various voices confusedly)To arms! To arms, Lord Hector!—SendFirst where the allied armies lie,Bid them draw sword and make an endOf sleep.—Let someone flyAnd get the horses’ armour on!—Who goes with me to Panthoös’ son?—Who’s for Sarpêdon and the Lycians?—NoneHath seen the priest go by?—Ho, Captain of the Runners, ho!—Ho, Trojans of the hornèd bow!String, string! For need is nigh.HECTOR.:Ha, silence there!...First words of fear,Then comfort. All an empty swell!It seems The lash of trembling PanHath caught you. Speak, if speak ye can.What tidings? Not a word is clearOf the whole tale ye tell.[The turmoil subsides, the LEADER comes forward.LEADER.:Great beacons in the Argive lineHave burned, my chief, through half the night.The shipyard timbers seemed to shine.
Χορός:— Βᾶθι πρὸς εὐνὰς τὰς Ἑκτορέους.τίς ὑπασπιστῶν ἄγρυπνος βασιλέως,ἢ τευχοφόρων;— δέξαιτο νέων κληδόνα μύθων,οἳ τετράμοιρον νυκτὸς φυλακὴνπάσης στρατιᾶς προκάθηνται.— ὄρθου κεφαλὴν πῆχυν ἐρείσας,λῦσον βλεφάρων γοργωπὸν ἕδραν,λεῖπε χαμεύνας φυλλοστρώτους,Ἕκτορ· καιρὸς γὰρ ἀκοῦσαι.Ἕκτωρ:τίς ὅδʼ; ἦ φίλιος φθόγγος· τίς ἀνήρ;τί τὸ σῆμα; θρόει·τίνες ἐκ νυκτῶν τὰς ἡμετέραςκοίτας πλάθουσʼ; ἐνέπειν χρή.Χορός:φύλακες στρατιᾶς.Ἕκτωρ:τί φέρῃ θορύβῳ;Χορός:θάρσει.Ἕκτωρ:θαρσῶ.μῶν τις λόχος ἐκ νυκτῶν;[]Χορός:[οὐκ ἔστι.][]Ἕκτωρ:τί σὺ γὰρφυλακὰς προλιπὼν κινεῖς στρατιάν,εἰ μή τινʼ ἔχων νυκτηγορίαν;οὐκ οἶσθα δορὸς πέλας Ἀργείουνυχίαν ἡμᾶςκοίταν πανόπλους κατέχοντας;Χορός:— ὁπλίζου χέρα· συμμάχων,Ἕκτορ, βᾶθι πρὸς εὐνάς,ὄτρυνον ἔγχος αἴρειν, ἀφύπνισον.— πέμπε φίλους ἰέναι ποτὶ σὸν λόχον,ἁρμόσατε ψαλίοις ἵππους.— τίς εἶσʼ ἐπὶ Πανθοΐδαν,ἢ τὸν Εὐρώπας, Λυκίων ἀγὸν ἀνδρῶν;— ποῦ σφαγίων ἔφοροι;— ποῦ δὲ γυμνήτων μόναρχοιτοξοφόροι τε Φρυγῶν;— ζεύγνυτε κερόδετα τόξα νευραῖς.Ἕκτωρ:τὰ μὲν ἀγγέλλεις δείματʼ ἀκούειν,τὰ δὲ θαρσύνεις, κοὐδὲν καθαρῶς.ἀλλʼ ἦ Κρονίου Πανὸς τρομερᾷμάστιγι φοβῇ; [φυλακὰς δὲ λιπὼν][κινεῖς στρατιάν.] τί θροεῖς; τί σε φῶνέον ἀγγέλλειν; πολλὰ γὰρ εἰπὼνοὐδὲν τρανῶς ἀπέδειξας.Χορός:— πύρʼ αἴθει στρατὸς Ἀργόλας,Ἕκτορ, πᾶσαν ἀνʼ ὄρφναν,διειπετῆ δὲ ναῶν πυρσοῖς σταθμά.
Then, clear against the light,Toward Agamemnon’s tent the wholeArmy in tumult seemed to roll,As stirred by some strange voice, shoal after shoal.A night of such discordWas never seen. And we, in dreadWhat such things boded, turned and spedHither; dost blame us, Lord?HECTOR.: (after a moment of thought)No! Welcome, friend, with all thy tale of fear!
πᾶς δʼ Ἀγαμεμνονίαν προσέβα στρατὸςἐννύχιος θορύβῳ σκηνάν,νέαν τινʼ ἐφιέμενοιβάξιν. οὐ γάρ πω πάρος ὧδʼ ἐφοβήθηναυσιπόρος στρατιά.σοὶ δʼ, ὑποπτεύων τὸ μέλλον,ἤλυθον ἄγγελος, ὡςμήποτʼ ἐς ἐμέ τινα μέμψιν εἴπῃς.Ἕκτωρ:ἐς καιρὸν ἥκεις, καίπερ ἀγγέλλων φόβον·
It shows they mean to fly: they mean to clearDecks in the dark and so delude my sight...I like that beacon-burning in the night.
ἅνδρες γὰρ ἐκ γῆς τῆσδε νυκτέρῳ πλάτῃλαθόντες ὄμμα τοὐμὸν ἀρεῖσθαι φυγὴνμέλλουσι· σαίνει μʼ ἔννυχος φρυκτωρία.
O Zeus above, who checked my conquering way,Who baulked the hungry lion of his preyOr ever I could sweep my country clearOf these despoilers, dost thou hate my spear?
ὦ δαῖμον, ὅστις μʼ εὐτυχοῦντʼ ἐνόσφισαςθοίνης λέοντα, πρὶν τὸν Ἀργείων στρατὸνσύρδην ἅπαντα τῷδʼ ἀναλῶσαι δορί.
Had but the sun’s bright arrows failed me not,I ne’er had rested till the ships were hotWith fire, and through the tents upon the plainThis bloody hand had passed and passed again!
εἰ γὰρ φαεννοὶ μὴ ξυνέσχον ἡλίουλαμπτῆρες, οὔτἂν ἔσχον εὐτυχοῦν δόρυ,πρὶν ναῦς πυρῶσαι καὶ διὰ σκηνῶν μολεῖνκτείνων Ἀχαιοὺς τῇδε πολυφόνῳ χερί.
Myself, I longed to try the battle-castBy night, and use God’s vantage to the last,But sage and prophet, learned in the wayOf seercraft, bade me wait for dawn of day,And then—leave no Greek living in the land.
κἀγὼ μὲν ἦ πρόθυμος ἱέναι δόρυἐν νυκτὶ χρῆσθαί τʼ εὐτυχεῖ ῥύμῃ θεοῦ·ἀλλʼ οἱ σοφοί με καὶ τὸ θεῖον εἰδότεςμάντεις ἔπεισαν ἡμέρας μεῖναι φάοςκἄπειτʼ Ἀχαιῶν μηδένʼ ἐν χέρσῳ λιπεῖν.
They wait not, they, for what my prophets plannedSo sagely. In the dark a runawayBeats a pursuer.
οἳ δʼ οὐ μένουσι τῶν ἐμῶν θυοσκόωνβουλάς· ἐν ὄρφνῃ δραπέτης μέγα σθένει.
Through our whole arraySend runners! Bid them shake off sleep and waitReady with shield and spear.’Tis not too lateTo catch them as they climb on board, and slashTheir crouching shoulders till the gangways splashWith blood, or teach them, fettered leg and arm,To dig the stiff clods of some Trojan farm.
ἀλλʼ ὡς τάχιστα χρὴ παραγγέλλειν στρατῷτεύχη πρόχειρα λαμβάνειν λῆξαί θʼ ὕπνου,ὡς ἄν τις αὐτῶν καὶ νεὼς θρῴσκων ἔπινῶτον χαραχθεὶς κλίμακας ῥάνῃ φόνῳ,οἳ δʼ ἐν βρόχοισι δέσμιοι λελημμένοιΦρυγῶν ἀρούρας ἐκμάθωσι γαπονεῖν.
LEADER.:My Prince, thy words run fast. Nor thou nor IHave knowledge yet that the Greeks mean to fly.
Χορός:Ἕκτορ, ταχύνεις πρὶν μαθεῖν τὸ δρώμενον·ἅνδρες γὰρ εἰ φεύγουσιν οὐκ ἴσμεν τορῶς.
HECTOR.:What makes them light their beacons? Tell me, what?
Ἕκτωρ:τίς γὰρ πύρʼ αἴθειν πρόφασις Ἀργείων στρατόν;
LEADER.:God knows! And, for my part, I like it not.
Χορός:οὐκ οἶδʼ· ὕποπτον δʼ ἐστὶ κάρτʼ ἐμῇ φρενί.
HECTOR.:What, feared? Thou wouldst be feared of everything!
Ἕκτωρ:πάντʼ ἂν φοβηθεὶς ἴσθι, δειμαίνων τόδε.
LEADER.:They never lit such light before, O King.
Χορός:οὔπω πρὶν ἧψαν πολέμιοι τοσόνδε φῶς.
HECTOR.:They never fled, man, in such wild dismay.LEADER: (yielding).
Ἕκτωρ:οὐδʼ ὧδέ γʼ αἰσχρῶς ἔπεσον ἐν τροπῇ δορός.
’Twas all thy work.—Judge thou, and we obey.
Χορός:σὺ ταῦτʼ ἔπραξας· καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ νῦν σκόπει.
HECTOR.:My word is simple. Arm and face the foe.[A sound of marching without.
Ἕκτωρ:ἁπλοῦς ἐπʼ ἐχθροῖς μῦθος ὁπλίζειν χέρα.
LEADER.:Who comes? Aeneas, and in haste, as thoughFraught with some sudden tiding of the night.Enter AENEAS.
Χορός:καὶ μὴν ὅδʼ Αἰνέας καὶ μάλα σπουδῇ ποδὸςστείχει, νέον τι πρᾶγμʼ ἔχων φίλοις φράσαι.
AENEAS.:Hector, what means it? Watchers in affrightWho gather shouting at thy doors, and thenHold midnight council, shaking all our men?
Αἰνείας:Ἕκτορ, τί χρῆμα νύκτεροι κατὰ στρατὸντὰς σὰς πρὸς εὐνὰς φύλακες ἐλθόντες φόβῳνυκτηγοροῦσι καὶ κεκίνηται· στρατός;
HECTOR.:To arms, Aeneas! Arm from head to heel!
Ἕκτωρ:Αἰνέα, πύκαζε τεύχεσιν δέμας σέθεν.
AENEAS.:What is it? Tidings? Doth the Argive stealSome march, some ambush in the day’s eclipse?
Αἰνείας:τί δʼ ἔστι; μῶν τις πολεμίων ἀγγέλλεταιδόλος κρυφαῖος ἑστάναι κατʼ εὐφρόνην;
HECTOR.:’Tis flight, man! They are marching to the ships.
Ἕκτωρ:φεύγουσιν ἅνδρες κἀπιβαίνουσιν νεῶν.
AENEAS.:How know’st thou?—Have we proof that it is flight?
Αἰνείας:τί τοῦδʼ ἂν εἴποις ἀσφαλὲς τεκμήριον;
HECTOR.:They are burning beacon-fires the livelong night.
Ἕκτωρ:αἴθουσι πᾶσαν νύκτα λαμπάδας πυρός·
They never mean to wait till dawn. BehindThat screen of light they are climbing in the blindDark to their ships—unmooring from our coast.AENEAS.: (looking toward the distant fires: after a pause)God guide them!—Why then do you arm the host?
καί μοι δοκοῦσιν οὐ μενεῖν ἐς αὔριον,ἀλλʼ ἐκκέαντες πύρσʼ ἐπʼ εὐσέλμων νεῶνφυγῇ πρὸς οἴκους τῆσδʼ ἀφορμήσειν χθονός.Αἰνείας:σὺ δʼ ὡς τί δράσων πρὸς τάδʼ ὁπλίζῃ χέρας;
HECTOR.:I mean to lame them in their climbing, IAnd my good spear, and break them as they fly.
Ἕκτωρ:φεύγοντας αὐτοὺς κἀπιθρῴσκοντας νεῶνλόγχῃ καθέξω κἀπικείσομαι βαρύς·
Black shame it were, and folly worse than shame,To let these spoilers go the road they cameUnpunished, when God gives them to us here.
αἰσχρὸν γὰρ ἡμῖν, καὶ πρὸς αἰσχύνῃ κακόν,θεοῦ διδόντος πολεμίους ἄνευ μάχηςφεύγειν ἐᾶσαι πολλὰ δράσαντας κακά.
AENEAS.:Brother, I would thy wit were like thy spear!
Αἰνείας:εἴθʼ ἦσθʼ ἀνὴρ εὔβουλος ὡς δρᾶσαι χερί.
But Nature wills not one man should be wiseIn all things; each must seek his separate prize.And thine is battle pure. There comes this wordOf beacons, on the touch thy soul is stirred:“They fly! Out horse and chariots!”—Out withalPast stake and trench, while night hangs like a pall!
ἀλλʼ οὐ γὰρ αὑτὸς πάντʼ ἐπίστασθαι βροτῶνπέφυκεν· ἄλλῳ δʼ ἄλλο πρόσκειται γέρας,σὲ μὲν μάχεσθαι, τοὺς δὲ βουλεύειν καλῶς·ὅστις πυρὸς λαμπτῆρας ἐξήρθης κλύωνφλέγειν Ἀχαιούς, καὶ στρατὸν μέλλεις ἄγειντάφρους ὑπερβὰς νυκτὸς ἐν καταστάσει.
Say, when we cross that coiling depth of dyke,We find the foe not fled, but turned to strike;One check there, and all hope of good returnIs gone. How can our men, returning, learnThe tricks of the palisade? The chariots howKeep to the bridges on the trenches’ brow,Save with jammed wheels and broken axles? Aye,And say thou conquer: other wars yet lieBefore thee. Peleus’ son, for all his ire,Will never let thee touch the ships with fireOr pounce on his Greek lambs. The man will bideNo wrong and standeth on a tower of pride.
καίτοι περάσας κοῖλον αὐλώνων βάθος,εἰ μὴ κυρήσεις πολεμίους ἀπὸ χθονὸςφεύγοντας, ἀλλὰ σὸν βλέποντας ἐς δόρυ,νικώμενος μὲν οὔτι μὴ μόλῃς πάλιν·πῶς γὰρ περάσει σκόλοπας ἐν τροπῇ στρατός;πῶς δʼ αὖ γεφύρας διαβαλοῦσʼ ἱππηλάται,ἢν ἆρα μὴ θραύσαντες ἀντύγων χνόας;νικῶν δʼ ἔφεδρον παῖδʼ ἔχεις τὸν Πηλέως,ὅς σʼ οὐκ ἐάσει ναυσὶν ἐμβαλεῖν φλόγα,οὐδʼ ὧδʼ Ἀχαιούς, ὡς δοκεῖς, ἀναρπάσαι.αἴθων γὰρ ἁνὴρ καὶ πεπύργωται χερί.
Nay, brother, let the army, head on shield,Sleep off its long day’s labour in the field:Then, send a spy; find someone who will dareCreep to yon Argive camp. Then, if ’tis clearThey mean flight, on and smite them as they fly.
ἀλλὰ στρατὸν μὲν ἥσυχον παρʼ ἀσπίδαςεὕδειν ἐῶμεν ἐκ κόπων ἀρειφάτων,κατάσκοπον δὲ πολεμίων, ὃς ἂν θέλῃ,πέμπειν δοκεῖ μοι· κἂν μὲν αἴρωνται φυγήν,στείχοντες ἐμπέσωμεν Ἀργείων στρατῷ·
Else, if the beacons hide some strategy,The spy will read it out, and we can callA council.—Thus speak I, my general.
εἰ δʼ ἐς δόλον τινʼ ἥδʼ ἄγει φρυκτωρία,μαθόντες ἐχθρῶν μηχανὰς κατασκόπουβουλευσόμεσθα· τήνδʼ ἔχω γνώμην, ἄναξ.
CHORUS.:’Tis good!’Tis wisdom! Prince, give heedAnd change the word thy passion gave.
Χορός:τάδε δοκεῖ, τάδε μεταθέμενος νόει.σφαλερὰ δʼ οὐ φιλῶ στρατηγῶν κράτη.
No soldier loveth, in his need,The glory of a chief too brave.A spy is best: a spy, to learnFor what strange work those beacons burnAll night beside the guarded wave.
τί γὰρ ἄμεινον ἢταχυβάταν νεῶν κατόπταν μολεῖνπέλας ὅ τί ποτʼ ἄρα δαΐοιςπυρὰ κατʼ ἀντίπρῳρα ναυστάθμων δαίεται;
HECTOR.:Ye all so wish it?—Well, ye conquer me.
Ἕκτωρ:νικᾶτʼ, ἐπειδὴ πᾶσιν ἁνδάνει τάδε.
(To AENEAS) Go thou and calm the allies. There will beSome stir among them, hearing of these highAnd midnight councils.—I will seek the spyTo send to the Greek camp. If there we learnOf some plot hatching, on the man’s returnI straight will call thee and share counsels. So.
στείχων δὲ κοίμα συμμάχους· τάχʼ ἂν στρατὸςκινοῖτʼ ἀκούσας νυκτέρους ἐκκλησίας.ἐγὼ δὲ πέμψω πολεμίων κατάσκοπον.κἂν μέν τινʼ ἐχθρῶν μηχανὴν πυθώμεθα,σὺ πάντʼ ἀκούσῃ καὶ παρὼν εἴσῃ λόγον·
But wait attentive. If he says they goShipward and plan to escape, one trumpet callShall warn thee, and I wait no more, but fallOn camp and hulls, or ever dawn can rise.
ἐὰν δʼ ἀπαίρωσʼ ἐς φυγὴν ὁρμώμενοι,σάλπιγγος αὐδὴν προσδοκῶν καραδόκει,ὡς οὐ μενοῦντά μʼ· ἀλλὰ προσμείξω νεῶνὁλκοῖσι νυκτὸς τῆσδʼ ἐπʼ Ἀργείων στρατῷ.
AENEAS.:Aye, haste and send him. Now thy plans are wise,And when need comes I am with thee, sword by sword. [Exit AENEAS.HECTOR: (turning to the Guards and other soldiers).
Αἰνείας:πέμφʼ ὡς τάχιστα· νῦν γὰρ ἀσφαλῶς φρονεῖς.σὺν σοὶ δʼ ἔμʼ ὄψῃ καρτεροῦνθʼ, ὅταν δέῃ.
Ye gathered Trojans, sharers of my word,Who dares to creep through the Greek lines alone?
Ἕκτωρ:τίς δῆτα Τρώων οἳ πάρεισιν ἐν λόγῳθέλει κατόπτης ναῦς ἐπʼ Ἀργείων μολεῖν;
Who will so help his fatherland?
τίς ἂν γένοιτο τῆσδε γῆς εὐεργέτης;
Doth noneOffer? Must I do everything, one handAlone, to save our allies and our land?[A lean dark man pushes forward from the back.
τίς φησιν; οὔτοι πάντʼ ἐγὼ δυνήσομαιπόλει πατρῴᾳ συμμάχοις θʼ ὑπηρετεῖν.
DOLON:I, Prince!—I offer for our City’s sakeTo go disguised to the Greek ships, to makeTheir counsels mine, and here bring word to thee.If that be thy full service, I agree.
Δόλων:ἐγὼ πρὸ γαίας τόνδε κίνδυνον θέλωῥίψας κατόπτης ναῦς ἐπʼ Ἀργείων μολεῖν,καὶ πάντʼ Ἀχαιῶν ἐκμαθὼν βουλεύματαἥξω· ἐπὶ τούτοις τόνδʼ ὑφίσταμαι πόνον.
HECTOR.:Dolon the Wolf! A wise wolf and a true!Thy father’s house was praised when first I knewTroy: this shall raise it twofold in our eyes.
Ἕκτωρ:ἐπώνυμος μὲν κάρτα καὶ φιλόπτολιςΔόλων· πατρὸς δὲ καὶ πρὶν εὐκλεᾶ δόμοννῦν δὶς τόσως ἔθηκας εὐκλεέστερον.
DOLON.:’Tis wise to do good work, but also wiseTo pay the worker. Aye, and fair rewardMakes twofold pleasure, though the work be hard.
Δόλων:οὐκοῦν πονεῖν μὲν χρή, πονοῦντα δʼ ἄξιονμισθὸν φέρεσθαι. παντὶ γὰρ προσκείμενονκέρδος πρὸς ἔργῳ τὴν χάριν τίκτει διπλῆν.
HECTOR.:So be it: an honest rule. Do thou lay downWhat guerdon likes thee best—short of my crown.
Ἕκτωρ:ναί, καὶ δίκαια ταῦτα κοὐκ ἄλλως λέγω.τάξαι δὲ μισθόν, πλὴν ἐμῆς τυραννίδος.
DOLON.:I care not for thy crowned and care-fraught life.
Δόλων:οὐ σῆς ἐρῶμεν πολιόχου τυραννίδος.
HECTOR.:Wouldst have a daughter of the King to wife?
Ἕκτωρ:σὺ δʼ ἀλλὰ γήμας Πριαμιδῶν γαμβρὸς γενοῦ.
DOLON.:I seek no mate that might look down on me.
Δόλων:οὐδʼ ἐξ ἐμαυτοῦ μειζόνων γαμεῖν θέλω.
HECTOR.:Good gold is ready, if that tempteth thee.
Ἕκτωρ:χρυσὸς πάρεστιν, εἰ τόδʼ αἰτήσεις γέρας.
DOLON.:We live at ease and have no care for gold.
Δόλων:ἀλλʼ ἔστʼ ἐν οἴκοις· οὐ βίου σπανίζομεν.
HECTOR.:Well, Troy hath other treasures manifold.
Ἕκτωρ:τί δῆτα χρῄζεις ὧν κέκευθεν Ἴλιος;
DOLON.:Pay me not now, but when the Greeks are ta’en.
Δόλων:ἑλὼν Ἀχαιοὺς δῶρά μοι ξυναίνεσον.
HECTOR.:The Greeks!... Choose any save the Atridae twain.
Ἕκτωρ:δώσω· σὺ δʼ αἴτει πλὴν στρατηλάτας νεῶν.
DOLON.:Kill both, an it please thee. I make prayer for none.
Δόλων:κτεῖνʼ, οὔ σʼ ἀπαιτῶ Μενέλεω σχέσθαι χέρα.
HECTOR.:Thou wilt not ask for Ajax, Ileus’ son?
Ἕκτωρ:οὐ μὴν τὸν Ἰλέως παῖδά μʼ ἐξαιτῇ λαβεῖν;
DOLON.:A princely hand is skilless at the plough.
Δόλων:κακαὶ γεωργεῖν χεῖρες εὖ τεθραμμέναι.
HECTOR.:’Tis ransom, then?... What prisoner cravest thou?
Ἕκτωρ:τίνʼ οὖν Ἀχαιῶν ζῶντʼ ἀποινᾶσθαι θέλεις;
DOLON.:I said before, of gold we have our fill.
Δόλων:καὶ πρόσθεν εἶπον· ἔστι χρυσὸς ἐν δόμοις.
HECTOR.:For spoils and armour... thou shalt choose at will.
Ἕκτωρ:καὶ μὴν λαφύρων γʼ αὐτὸς αἱρήσῃ παρών.
DOLON.:Nail them for trophies on some temple wall.
Δόλων:θεοῖσιν αὐτὰ πασσάλευε πρὸς δόμοις.
HECTOR.:What seeks the man? What prize more rich than all?
Ἕκτωρ:τί δῆτα μεῖζον τῶνδέ μʼ αἰτήσεις γέρας;
DOLON.:Achilles’ horses! Murmurs of surprise.Yes, I need a greatPrize. I am dicing for my life with Fate.
Δόλων:ἵππους Ἀχιλλέως· χρὴ δʼ ἐπʼ ἀξίοις πονεῖνψυχὴν προβάλλοντʼ ἐν κύβοισι δαίμονος.
HECTOR.:’Fore God, I am thy rival, if thy loveLies there. Undying was the breed thereof,And these shall never die, who bear to warGreat Peleus’ son, swift gleaming like a star.
Ἕκτωρ:καὶ μὴν ἐρῶντί γʼ ἀντερᾷς ἵππων ἐμοί·ἐξ ἀφθίτων γὰρ ἄφθιτοι πεφυκότεςτὸν Πηλέως φέρουσι θούριον γόνον·
Poseidon, rider of the wild sea-drift,Tamed them, men say, and gave them for his giftTo Peleus.—None the less, since I have stirredHopes, I will baulk them not. I pledge my word,Achilles’ steeds, a rare prize, shall be thine.
δίδωσι δʼ αὐτοὺς πωλοδαμνήσας ἄναξΠηλεῖ Ποσειδῶν, ὡς λέγουσι, πόντιος.ἀλλʼ οὔ σʼ ἐπάρας ψεύσομαι· δώσω δέ σοι,κάλλιστον οἴκοις κτῆμʼ, Ἀχιλλέως ὄχον.
DOLON.:I thank thee.—’Tis indeed a prize more fineThan all in Troy.—Grudge me not that; there beGuerdons abundant for a Prince like thee.Exit HECTOR.
Δόλων:αἰνῶ· λαβὼν δʼ ἄν φημι κάλλιστον Φρυγῶνδῶρον δέχεσθαι τῆς ἐμῆς εὐσπλαγχνίας.σὲ δʼ οὐ φθονεῖν χρή· μυρίʼ ἔστιν ἄλλα σοι,ἐφʼ οἷσι τέρψῃ τῆσδʼ ἀριστεύων χθονός.
CHORUS.:O peril strange, O fearful prize!
Χορός:μέγας ἀγών, μεγάλα δʼ ἐπινοεῖς ἑλεῖν·
Yet win it and thy life hath wings:
μακάριός γε μὴν κυρήσας ἔσῃ.
A deed of glory in men’s eyes,A greatness, to be wooed of kings.
πόνος ὅδʼ εὐκλεής·μέγα δὲ κοιράνοισι γαμβρὸν πέλειν.
If God but hearken to the right,Thou drinkest to the full this nightThe cup of man’s imaginings.DOLON.: He stands waiting a moment looking out into the dark.
τὰ θεόθεν ἐπιδέτω Δίκα,τὰ δὲ παρʼ ἀνδράσιν τέλειά σοι φαίνεται.
There lies the way.—But first I must go findAt home some body-shelter to my mind;Then, forward to the ships of Argolis!
Δόλων:στείχοιμʼ ἄν· ἐλθὼν ⟨δʼ⟩ ἐς δόμους ἐφέστιοςσκευῇ πρεπόντως σῶμʼ ἐμὸν καθάψομαι,κἀκεῖθεν ἥσω ναῦς ἐπʼ Ἀργείων πόδα.
LEADER.:What other raiment wilt thou need than this?
Χορός:ἐπεὶ τίνʼ ἄλλην ἀντὶ τῆσδʼ ἕξεις στολήν;
DOLON.:A garb for work, for night; a thieving guise.
Δόλων:πρέπουσαν ἔργῳ κλωπικοῖς τε βήμασι.
LEADER.:’Tis good to learn the wisdoms of the wise.
Χορός:σοφοῦ παρʼ ἀνδρὸς χρὴ σοφόν τι μανθάνειν·
What will thy wrapping be?
λέξον, τίς ἔσται τοῦδε σώματος σαγή;
DOLON.:A grey wolf’s hideShall wrap my body close on either side;My head shall be the mask of gleaming teeth,My arms fit in the forepaws, like a sheath,My thighs in the hinder parts. No Greek shall tell’Tis not a wolf that walks, half visible,On four feet by the trenches and aroundThe ship-screen. When it comes to empty groundIt stands on two.—That is the plan, my friend!
Δόλων:λύκειον ἀμφὶ νῶτʼ ἐνάψομαι δορὰνκαὶ χάσμα θηρὸς ἀμφʼ ἐμῷ θήσω κάρᾳ,βάσιν τε χερσὶ προσθίαν καθαρμόσαςκαὶ κῶλα κώλοις, τετράπουν μιμήσομαιλύκου κέλευθον πολεμίοις δυσεύρετον,τάφροις πελάζων καὶ νεῶν προβλήμασιν.ὅταν δʼ ἔρημον χῶρον ἐμβαίνω ποδί,δίβαμος εἶμι· τῇδε σύγκειται δόλος.
LEADER.:Now Maian Hermes guide thee to thy endAnd home safe! Well he loves all counterfeit...
Χορός:ἀλλʼ εὖ σʼ ὁ Μαίας παῖς ἐκεῖσε καὶ πάλινπέμψειεν Ἑρμῆς, ὅς γε φηλητῶν ἄναξ.
Good work is there; may good luck go with it!DOLON: (to himself, gazing out toward the Greek camp).
ἔχεις δὲ τοὔργον· εὐτυχεῖν μόνον σε δεῖ.
There, and then back!... And on this belt shall bleedOdysseus’ head—or why not Diomede?—To prove my truth. Ere dawn can touch the landI shall be here, and blood upon my hand.Exit DOLON.
Δόλων:σωθήσομαί γε καὶ κτανὼν Ὀδυσσέωςοἴσω κάρα σοι — σύμβολον δʼ ἔχων σαφὲςφήσεις Δόλωνα ναῦς ἐπʼ Ἀργείων μολεῖν —ἢ παῖδα Τυδέως· οὐδʼ ἀναιμάκτῳ χερὶἥξω πρὸς οἴκους πρὶν φάος μολεῖν χθόνα.
CHORUS.:Thymbraean, Delian, Birth divine,That walkest Lycia’s inmost shrine,Come, strong to guard, to guide, to follow,Come, bow in hand and girt with night,To help thy Dardans as of old,When stone by stone thy music rolled—O conquering Strength, O Sire Apollo!—Young Ilion into towers of light.
Χορός:Θυμβραῖε καὶ Δάλιε καὶ Λυκίαςναὸν ἐμβατεύωνἌπολλον, ὦ δία κεφαλά, μόλε τοξή-ρης, ἱκοῦ ἐννύχιοςκαὶ γενοῦ σωτήριος ἀνέρι πομπᾶςἁγεμὼν καὶ ξύλλαβε Δαρδανίδαις,ὦ παγκρατές, ὦ Τροΐαςτείχη παλαιὰ δείμας.
CHORUS.:Grant that he reach the shipyard, creepKeen-eyed through all that host asleep,Then back to home and hearth, yet living,Where now his father prays alone:
Χορός:μόλοι δὲ ναυκλήρια, καὶ στρατιᾶςἙλλάδος διόπταςἵκοιτο, καὶ κάμψειε πάλιν θυμέλας οἴ-κων πατρὸς Ἰλιάδας.
Yea, grant that, when the Greeks are slain,Our wolf shall mount with scourge and reinThose coursers of the sea-god’s giving,Whom Peleus drove in days foregone.
Φθιάδων δʼ ἵππων ποτʼ ἐπʼ ἄντυγα βαίη,δεσπότου πέρσαντος Ἀχαιὸν Ἄρη,τὰς πόντιος ΑἰακίδᾳΠηλεῖ δίδωσι δαίμων.
CHORUS.:Alone in those Greek ships to stakeHis life, for home and country’s sake:’Tis wondrous! Few be hearts so trueWhen seas across the bulwark break,And sunlight sickens o’er the crew.Ah, Phrygia still hath hearts of rock!
Χορός:ἐπεὶ πρό τʼ οἴκων πρό τε γᾶς ἔτλα μόνοςναύσταθμα βὰς κατιδεῖν· ἄγαμαιλήματος· ἦ σπανία ⟨τις⟩τῶν ἀγαθῶν, ὅταν ᾖδυσάλιος ἐν πελάγεικαὶ σαλεύῃπόλις. ἔστι Φρυγῶν τις ἔστιν ἄλκιμος·
The Phrygian spear flies fast and far!Where shall ye find the fool to mockOur works in war?
ἔνι δὲ θράσος ἐν αἰχ-μᾷ· πόθι Μυσῶν ὃς ἐμὰνσυμμαχίαν ἀτίζει;
CHORUS.:Whom will he stab a-sleeping, whom,The quick grey wolf, the crawling doom?Grant that he slay the Spartan! Nay,Or Agamemnon’s head and plumeTo Helen bear at dawn of day!A lightsome dawn to hear her wailHer brother sworn, her King who cameTo Ilion with his thousand sail,And swords, and flame! As the song ends DOLON reappears, in the disguise of a wolf. The Guards gather round him, bidding him godspeed as he crawls off in the dark towards the Greek camp. Meantime from the direction of Mount Ida has entered a SHEPHERD who goes to HECTOR’S door and calls. The Guards seeing him return to their places.
Χορός:τίνʼ ἄνδρʼ Ἀχαιῶν ὁ πεδοστιβὴς σφαγεὺςοὐτάσει ἐν κλισίαις, τετράπουνμῖμον ἔχων ἐπιγαίουθηρός; ἕλοι Μενέλαν,κτανὼν δʼ Ἀγαμεμνόνιονκρᾶτʼ ἐνέγκοιἙλένᾳ κακόγαμβρον ἐς χέρας γόον,ὃς ἐπὶ πόλιν, ὃς ἐπὶγᾶν Τροΐαν χιλιόναυνἤλυθʼ ἔχων στρατείαν.
SHEPHERD.:Ho, Master! Enter HECTOR from tent.I would it ofttimes were my luck to shareAs goodly news with thee as now I bear.
Ἄγγελος Ποιμήν:ἄναξ, τοιούτων δεσπόταισιν ἄγγελοςεἴην τὸ λοιπὸν οἷά σοι φέρω μαθεῖν.
HECTOR.:What dulness hangs about these shepherds! Block,Com’st thou to us with tidings of thy flockHere in the field in arms? Who wants thee here?
Ἕκτωρ:ἦ πόλλʼ ἀγρώταις σκαιὰ πρόσκειται φρενί·καὶ γὰρ σὺ ποίμνας δεσπόταις τευχεσφόροιςἥκειν ἔοικας ἀγγελῶν ἵνʼ οὐ πρέπει.
Thou know’st my house; thou know’st my father’s.ThereTell all about thy lucky lambs.—Now go.
οὐκ οἶσθα δῶμα τοὐμὸν ἢ θρόνους πατρός,οἷ χρῆν γεγωνεῖν σʼ εὐτυχοῦντα ποίμνια;
SHEPHERD.:Dull wits, we shepherds! Aye,’twas alway so.
Ἄγγελος:σκαιοὶ βοτῆρές ἐσμεν· οὐκ ἄλλως λέγω.
Yet still, there is some good news to be told.
ἀλλʼ οὐδὲν ἧσσον σοι φέρω κεδνοὺς λόγους.
HECTOR.:A truce there to thy gossip of the fold!
Ἕκτωρ:παῦσαι λέγων μοι τὰς προσαυλείους τύχας·
Our dealings are of war, of sword and spear.He turns to go.
μάχας πρὸ χειρῶν καὶ δόρη βαστάζομεν.
SHEPHERD.:Aye; so were mine. That is what brought me here.HECTOR’S manner changes.
Ἄγγελος:τοιαῦτα κἀγὼ σημανῶν ἐλήλυθα·
A chief comes yonder, leading a great bandOf spears, with help to thee and all the land.
ἀνὴρ γὰρ ἀλκῆς μυρίας στρατηλατῶνστείχει φίλος σοὶ σύμμαχός τε τῇδε γῇ.
HECTOR.:From whence? How do his name and lineage run?
Ἕκτωρ:ποίας πατρῴας γῆς ἐρημώσας πέδον;
SHEPHERD.:He comes from Thrace, the River Strymon’s son.
Ἄγγελος:Θρῄκης· πατρὸς δὲ Στρυμόνος κικλήσκεται.
HECTOR.:Rhesus! Not Rhesus, here on Trojan soil?
Ἕκτωρ:Ῥῆσον τιθέντʼ ἔλεξας ἐν Τροίᾳ πόδα;
SHEPHERD.:Thou hast guessed. That eases me of half my toil.
Ἄγγελος:ἔγνως· λόγου δὲ δὶς τόσου μʼ ἐκούφισας.
HECTOR.:What makes he there towards Ida? All astrayThus from the plain and the broad waggon-way!
Ἕκτωρ:καὶ πῶς πρὸς Ἴδης ὀργάδας πορεύεται,πλαγχθεὶς πλατείας πεδιάδος θʼ ἁμαξιτοῦ;
SHEPHERD.:I know not rightly, though one well may guess.
Ἄγγελος:οὐκ οἶδʼ ἀκριβῶς· εἰκάσαι γε μὴν πάρα.
’Tis hard to land at night, with such a pressOf spears, on a strange coast, where rumours tellOf foes through all the plain-land. We that dwellOn Ida, in the rock, Troy’s ancient rootAnd hearth-stone, were well frighted, through the muteAnd wolfish thickets thus to hear him break.
νυκτὸς γὰρ οὔτι φαῦλον ἐμβαλεῖν στρατόν,κλύοντα πλήρη πεδία πολεμίας χερός.φόβον δʼ ἀγρώσταις, οἳ κατʼ Ἰδαῖον λέπαςοἰκοῦμεν αὐτόρριζον ἑστίαν χθονός,παρέσχε δρυμὸν νυκτὸς ἔνθηρον μολών.
A great and rushing noise those Thracians make,Marching. We, all astonied, ran to driveOur sheep to the upmost heights.’Twas some Argive,We thought, who came to sweep the mountain clearAnd waste thy folds; till suddenly our earCaught at their speech, and knew ’twas nothing Greek.Then all our terror fled. I ran to seekSome scout or pioneer who led the vanAnd called in Thracian: “Ho, what child of man”“Doth lead you? From what nation do ye bring”“This host with aid to Ilion and her king?”
πολλῇ γὰρ ἠχῇ Θρῄκιος ῥέων στρατὸςἔστειχε· θάμβει δʼ ἐκπλαγέντες ἵεμενποίμνας πρὸς ἄκρας, μή τις Ἀργείων μόλῃλεηλατήσων καὶ σὰ πορθήσων σταθμά,πρὶν δὴ διʼ ὤτων γῆρυν οὐχ Ἑλληνικὴνἐδεξάμεσθα καὶ μετέστημεν φόβου.στείχων δʼ ἄνακτος προυξερευνητὰς ὁδοῦἀνιστόρησα Θρῃκίοις προσφθέγμασι,Τίς ὁ στρατηγὸς καὶ τίνος κεκλημένοςστείχει πρὸς ἄστυ Πριαμίδαισι σύμμαχος;
He told me what I sought, and there I stoodWatching; and saw one gleaming like a God,Tall in the darkness on a Thracian car.
καὶ πάντʼ ἀκούσας ὧν ἐφιέμην μαθεῖν,ἔστην· ὁρῶ δὲ Ῥῆσον ὥστε δαίμοναἑστῶτʼ ἐν ἵπποις Θρῃκίοις τʼ ὀχήμασι.
A plate of red gold mated, like a bar,His coursers’ necks, white, white as fallen snow.
χρυσῆ δὲ πλάστιγξ αὐχένα ζυγηφόρονπώλων ἔκλῃε χιόνος ἐξαυγεστέρων.
A carven targe, with golden shapes aglow,Hung o’er his back. Before each courser’s headA Gorgon, to the frontlet riveted,With bells set round-like stories that they tellOf Pallas’ shield-made music terrible.
πέλτη δʼ ἐπʼ ὤμων χρυσοκολλήτοις τύποιςἔλαμπε· Γοργὼν δʼ ὡς ἐπʼ αἰγίδος θεᾶςχαλκῆ μετώποις ἱππικοῖσι πρόσδετοςπολλοῖσι σὺν κώδωσιν ἐκτύπει φόβον.
The numbers of that host no pen could writeNor reckon;’tis a multitudinous sight,Long lines of horsemen, lines of targeteers,Archers abundant; and behind them veersA wavering horde, light-armed, in Thracian weed.
στρατοῦ δὲ πλῆθος οὐδʼ ἂν ἐν ψήφου λόγῳθέσθαι δυναίμην, ὡς ἄπλατον ἦν ἰδεῖν,πολλοὶ μὲν ἱππῆς, πολλὰ πελταστῶν τέλη,πολλοὶ δʼ ἀτράκτων τοξόται, πολὺς δʼ ὄχλοςγυμνὴς ὁμαρτῇ, Θρῃκίαν ἔχων στολήν.
A friend is come to Ilion in her need’Gainst whom no Argive, let him fly or stand,Shall aught avail nor ’scape his conquering hand.
τοιόσδε Τροίᾳ σύμμαχος πάρεστʼ ἀνήρ,ὃν οὔτε φεύγων οὔθʼ ὑποσταθεὶς δορὶὁ Πηλέως παῖς ἐκφυγεῖν δυνήσεται.
LEADER.:Lo, when the Gods breathe gently o’er a town,All runs to good, as water-streams run down.HECTOR.: (bitterly)Aye, when my spear hath fortune, when God sendsHis favour, I shall find abundant friends.
Χορός:ὅταν πολίταις εὐσταθῶσι δαίμονες,ἕρπει κατάντης ξυμφορὰ πρὸς τἀγαθά.Ἕκτωρ:πολλούς, ἐπειδὴ τοὐμὸν εὐτυχεῖ δόρυκαὶ Ζεὺς πρὸς ἡμῶν ἐστιν, εὑρήσω φίλους.
I need them not; who never came of yoreTo help us, when we rolled to death beforeThe war-swell, and the wind had ripped our sail.
ἀλλʼ οὐδὲν αὐτῶν δεόμεθʼ, οἵτινες πάλαιμὴ ξυμπονοῦσιν, ἡνίκʼ ἐξώστης Ἄρηςἔθραυε λαίφη τῆσδε γῆς μέγας πνέων.
Then Rhesus taught us Trojans what availHis words are.—He comes early to the feast;Where was he when the hunters met the beast?Where, when we sank beneath the Argive spear?
Ῥῆσος δʼ ἔδειξεν οἷος ἦν Τροίᾳ φίλος·ἥκει γὰρ ἐς δαῖτʼ, οὐ παρὼν κυνηγέταιςαἱροῦσι λείαν οὐδὲ συγκαμὼν δορί.
LEADER.:Well may’st thou mock and blame thy friend. Yet hereHe comes with help for Troy. Accept him thou.
Χορός:ὀρθῶς ἀτίζεις κἀπίμομφος εἶ φίλοις·δέχου δὲ τοὺς θέλοντας ὠφελεῖν πόλιν.
HECTOR.:We are enough, who have held the wall till now.
Ἕκτωρ:ἀρκοῦμεν οἱ σῴζοντες Ἴλιον πάλαι.
LEADER.:Master, dost think already that our foeIs ta’en?
Χορός:πέποιθας ἤδη πολεμίους ᾑρηκέναι;
HECTOR.:I do. To-morrow’s light will show.
Ἕκτωρ:πέποιθα· δείξει τοὐπιὸν σέλας θεοῦ.
LEADER.:Have care. Fate often flings a backward cast.
Χορός:ὅρα τὸ μέλλον· πόλλʼ ἀναστρέφει θεός.
HECTOR.:I hate the help that comes when need is past...
Ἕκτωρ:μισῶ φίλοισιν ὕστερον βοηδρομεῖν.
Howbeit, once come, I bid him welcome hereAs guest—not war-friend; guest to share our cheer.
ὃ δʼ οὖν, ἐπείπερ ἦλθε, σύμμαχος μὲν οὔ,ξένος δὲ πρὸς τράπεζαν ἡκέτω ξένων·
The thanks are lost, he might have won from us.
χάρις γὰρ αὐτῷ Πριαμιδῶν διώλετο.
LEADER.:My general, to reject an ally thusMust needs make hatred.
Χορός:ἄναξ, ἀπωθεῖν συμμάχους ἐπίφθονον.
SHEPHERD.:The mere sight of thoseI saw would sure cast fear upon our foes.HECTOR.: (yielding reluctantly, with a laugh)Ah, well; thy words are prudent; and (To SHEPHERD) thine eyesSee glorious things. With all these panopliesOf gold that filled our Shepherd’s heart with joy,Bid Rhesus welcome, as war-friend to Troy.Exit SHEPHERD; HECTOR returns to his tent, amid the joy of the soldiers.
Ἄγγελος:φόβος γένοιτʼ ἂν πολεμίοις ὀφθεὶς μόνον.Ἕκτωρ:σύ τʼ εὖ παραινεῖς καὶ σὺ καιρίως σκοπεῖς.ὁ χρυσοτευχὴς δʼ οὕνεκʼ ἀγγέλου λόγωνῬῆσος παρέστω τῇδε σύμμαχος χθονί.
CHORUS.:Now Adrasteia be near and guardOur lips from sin, lest the end be hard!
Χορός:Ἀδράστεια μὲν ἁ Διὸςπαῖς εἴργοι στομάτων φθόνον·
But he cometh, he cometh, the Child of the River!The pride of my heart it shall roll unbarred.
φράσω γὰρ δὴ ὅσον μοι ψυχᾷπροσφιλές ἐστιν εἰπεῖν.
We craved thy coming; yea, need was strongIn the Hall of thy lovers, O child of Song;Thy mother the Muse and her fair-bridged RiverThey held thee from us so long, so long!CHORUS.:By Strymon’s torrent alone she sang,And Strymon shivered and coiled and sprang;And her arms went wide to the wild sweet water,And the love of the River around her rang.
ἥκεις, ὦ ποταμοῦ παῖ,ἥκεις, ἐπλάθης Φιλίου πρὸς αὐλὰνἀσπαστός, ἐπεί σε χρόνῳΠιερὶς μάτηρ ὅ τε καλλιγέφυ-ρος ποταμὸς πορεύειΧορός:Στρυμών, ὅς ποτε τᾶς μελῳ-δοῦ Μούσας διʼ ἀκηράτωνδινηθεὶς ὑδροειδὴς κόλπωνσὰν ἐφύτευσεν ἥβαν.
We hail thee, Fruit of the River’s seed,Young Zeus of the Dawn, on thy starry steed!
σύ μοι Ζεὺς ὁ φαναῖοςἥκεις διφρεύων βαλιαῖσι πώλοις.
O ancient City, O Ida’s daughter,Is God the Deliverer found indeed?
νῦν, ὦ πατρὶς ὦ Φρυγία,ξὺν θεῷ νῦν σοι τὸν ἐλευθέριονΖῆνα πάρεστιν εἰπεῖν.
CHORUS.:And men shall tell of thee, Ilion mine,Once more a-harping at day’s decline,’Mid laughing of lovers and lays and dancesAnd challenge on challenge of circling wine?When the Greek is smitten that day shall be,And fled to Argolis over the sea:O mighty of hand, O leader of lances,Smite him, and heaven be good to thee!
Χορός:ἆρά ποτʼ αὖθις ἁ παλαιὰ Τροΐατοὺς προπότας παναμερεύ-σει θιάσους ἐρώτωνψαλμοῖσι καὶ κυλίκων οἰνοπλανή-τοις ὑποδεξίαις ἁμίλ-λαις κατὰ πόντον ἈτρειδᾶνΣπάρταν οἰχομένωνἸλιάδος παρʼ ἀκτᾶς;ὦ φίλος, εἴθε μοισᾷ χερὶ καὶ σῷ δορὶ πρά-ξας τάδʼ ἐς οἶκον ἔλθοις.
CHORUS.:Thou Rider golden and swift and sheer,Achilles falters: appear! appear!The car like flame where the red shield leapeth,The fell white steeds and the burning spear!No Greek shall boast he hath seen thy faceAnd danced again in the dancing place;And the land shall laugh for the sheaves she reapeth,Of spoilers dead by a sword from Thrace.Enter RHESUS in dazzling white armour, followed by his CHARIOTEER and Attendants. The CHARIOTEER carries his golden shield. The CHORUS break into a shout of “All Hail!”LEADER.:All hail, great King! A whelp indeedIs born in Thracia’s lion fold,Whose leap shall make strong cities bleed.
Χορός:ἐλθέ, φάνηθι, τὰν ζάχρυσον προβαλοῦΠηλεΐδα κατʼ ὄμμα πέλ-ταν δοχμίαν πεδαίρωνσχιστὰν παρʼ ἄντυγα, πώλους ἐρεθί-ζων δίβολόν τʼ ἄκοντα πάλ-λων. σὲ γὰρ οὔτις ὑποστὰςἈργείας ποτʼ ἐν Ἥ-ρας δαπέδοις χορεύσει·ἀλλά νιν ἅδε γᾶκαπφθίμενον Θρῃκὶ μόρῳφίλτατον ἄχθος οἴσει.Χορός:— ἰὼ ἰώ, μέγας ὦ βασιλεῦ.καλόν, ὦ Θρῄκη,σκύμνον ἔθρεψας πολίαρχον ἰδεῖν.
Behold his body girt with gold,And hark the pride of bells alongThe frontlet of that targe’s hold.
ἴδε χρυσόδετον σώματος ἀλκήν,κλύε καὶ κόμπους κωδωνοκρότουςπαρὰ πορπάκων κελαδοῦντας.
CHORUS.:A God, O Troy, a God and more!’Tis Ares’ self, this issue strongOf Strymon and the Muse of song,Whose breath is fragrant on thy shore!Re-enter HECTOR.
θεός, ὦ Τροία, θεός, αὐτὸς Ἄρηςὁ Στρυμόνιος πῶλος ἀοιδοῦΜούσης ἥκων καταπνεῖ σε.
RHESUS.:Lord Hector, Prince of Ilion, noble sonOf noble sires, all hail! Long years have runSince last we greeted, and ’tis joy this dayTo see thy fortunes firm and thine arrayCamped at the foe’s gate. Here am I to tameThat foe for thee, and wrap his ships in flame.
Ῥῆσος:χαῖρʼ, ἐσθλὸς ἐσθλοῦ παῖς, τύραννε τῆσδε γῆς,Ἕκτορ· παλαιᾷ σʼ ἡμέρᾳ προσεννέπω.χαίρω δέ σʼ εὐτυχοῦντα καὶ προσήμενονπύργοισιν ἐχθρῶν· συγκατασκάψων δʼ ἐγὼτείχη πάρειμι καὶ νεῶν πρήσων σκάφη.
HECTOR.:Thou child of Music and the Thracian flood,Strymonian Rhesus, truth is alway goodIn Hector’s eyes. I wear no double heart.
Ἕκτωρ:παῖ τῆς μελῳδοῦ μητέρος Μουσῶν μιᾶςΘρῃκός τε ποταμοῦ Στρυμόνος, φιλῶ λέγειντἀληθὲς αἰεὶ κοὐ διπλοῦς πέφυκʼ ἀνήρ.
Long, long ago thou shouldst have borne thy partIn Ilion’s labours, not have left us here,For all thy help, to sink beneath the spear.
πάλαι πάλαι χρῆν τῇδε συγκάμνειν χθονὶἐλθόντα, καὶ μὴ τοὐπί σʼ Ἀργείων ὕποΤροίαν ἐᾶσαι πολεμίῳ πεσεῖν δορί.
Why didst thou—not for lack of need made plain!—Not come, not send, not think of us again?
οὐ γάρ τι λέξεις ὡς ἄκλητος ὢν φίλοιςοὐκ ἦλθες οὐδʼ ἤμυνας οὐδʼ ἐπεστράφης.
What grave ambassadors prayed not beforeThy throne, what herald knelt not at thy door?
τίς γάρ σε κῆρυξ ἢ γερουσία Φρυγῶνἐλθοῦσʼ ἀμύνειν οὐκ ἐπέσκηψεν πόλει;
What pride of gifts did Troy not send to thee?
ποῖον δὲ δώρων κόσμον οὐκ ἐπέμψαμεν;
And thou, a lord of Barbary even as we,Thou, brother of our blood, like one at supWho quaffs his fill and flings away the cup,Hast flung to the Greeks my city! Yet, long since,’Twas I that found thee but a little princeAnd made thee mighty, I and this right hand;When round Pangaion and the Paiôn’s land,Front against front, I burst upon the broodOf Thrace and broke their targes, and subduedTheir power to thine. The grace whereof, not small,Thou hast spurned, and when thy kinsmen, drowning, call,Comest too late. Thou! Others there have beenThese long years, not by nature of our kin..Some under yon rough barrows thou canst seeLie buried; they were true to Troy and me;And others, yet here in the shielded lineOr mid the chariots, parching in the shineOf noonday, starving in the winds that biteThrough Ilion’s winter, still endure and fightOn at my side.’Twas not their way, to lieOn a soft couch and, while the cups go by,Pledge my good health, like thee, in Thracian wine.
σὺ δʼ ἐγγενὴς ὢν βάρβαρός τε βαρβάρουςἝλλησιν ἡμᾶς προύπιες τὸ σὸν μέρος.καίτοι σε μικρᾶς ἐκ τυραννίδος μέγανΘρῃκῶν ἄνακτα τῇδʼ ἔθηκʼ ἐγὼ χερί,ὅτʼ ἀμφὶ Πάγγαιόν τε Παιόνων τε γῆνΘρῃκῶν ἀρίστοις ἐμπεσὼν κατὰ στόμαἔρρηξα πέλτην, σοὶ δὲ δουλώσας λεὼνπαρέσχον· ὧν σὺ λακτίσας πολλὴν χάριν,φίλων νοσούντων ὕστερος βοηδρομεῖς.οἱ δʼ οὐδὲν ἡμῖν ἐν γένει πεφυκότες,πάλαι παρόντες, οἳ μὲν ἐν χωστοῖς τάφοιςκεῖνται πεσόντες, πίστις οὐ σμικρὰ πόλει,οἳ δʼ ἔν θʼ ὅπλοισι καὶ παρʼ ἱππείοις ὄχοιςψυχρὰν ἄησιν δίψιόν τε πῦρ θεοῦμένουσι καρτεροῦντες, οὐκ ἐν δεμνίοιςπυκνὴν ἄμυστιν ὡς σὺ δεξιούμενοι.
I speak as a free man. With thee and thineHector is wroth, and tells thee to thy face.
ταῦθʼ, ὡς ἂν εἰδῇς Ἕκτορʼ ὄντʼ ἐλεύθερον,καὶ μέμφομαί σοι καὶ λέγω κατʼ ὄμμα σόν.
RHESUS.:Thy way is mine, friend. Straight I run my raceIn word and deed, and bear no double tongue.
Ῥῆσος:τοιοῦτός εἰμι καὐτός, εὐθεῖαν λόγωντέμνων κέλευθον, κοὐ διπλοῦς πέφυκʼ ἀνήρ.
I tell thee, more than thine my heart was wrung,Yea, angered past all durance, thus to stayBack from thy battles.’Twas a folk that layHard on my borders, Scythians of the north;Just when my host for Troy had started forth,They fell upon our homes. I had reached the coastOf the Friendless Sea and purposed to have crossedMy Thracians there. We turned; and all that plainIs trampled in a mire of Scythian slainPloughed by our spears, and blood of Thrace withalNot stinted. This it was that drowned thy callFor help and held me back from Ilion’s need.
ἐγὼ δὲ μεῖζον ἢ σὺ τῆσδʼ ἀπὼν χθονὸςλύπῃ πρὸς ἧπαρ δυσφορῶν ἐτειρόμην·ἀλλʼ ἀγχιτέρμων γαῖά μοι, Σκύθης λεώς,μέλλοντι νόστον τὸν πρὸς Ἴλιον περᾶνξυνῆψε πόλεμον· Εὐξένου δʼ ἀφικόμηνπόντου πρὸς ἀκτάς, Θρῇκα πορθμεύσων στρατόν.ἔνθʼ αἱματηρὸς πέλανος ἐς γαῖαν Σκύθηςἠντλεῖτο λόγχῃ Θρῄξ τε συμμιγὴς φόνος.τοιάδε τοί μʼ ἀπεῖργε συμφορὰ πέδονΤροίας ἱκέσθαι σύμμαχόν τέ σοι μολεῖν.
I broke their power; the princes of their breedI took to hostage, made their elders swearTo bring my house due tribute, year by year,Then, never lagging, crossed the Pontus mouth,Marched by long stages through Bithynia southAnd here am come... not drunken with the feast,As thou wouldst have me be, not lulled to restIn golden chambers. In this harness hardI have borne my nights of winter storm that starredThe Euxine into ice and scared the strongPaionians. Long I have been, but not too longTo save thee yet. Friend, this is the tenth yearThou labourest on unceasing, with no clearVantage; day creeps by day, and Ares throwsThe same red dice for thee and for thy foes.
ἐπεὶ δʼ ἔπερσα, τῶνδʼ ὁμηρεύσας τέκνατάξας ⟨τʼ⟩ ἔτειον δασμὸν ἐς δόμους φέρειν,ἥκω περάσας ναυσὶ πόντιον στόμα,τὰ δʼ ἄλλα πεζὸς γῆς περῶν ὁρίσματα —οὐχ ὡς σὺ κομπεῖς τὰς ἐμὰς ἀμύστιδας,οὐδʼ ἐν ζαχρύσοις δώμασιν κοιμώμενος,ἀλλʼ οἷα πόντον Θρῄκιον φυσήματακρυσταλλόπηκτα Παιόνας τʼ ἐπεζάρει,ξὺν τοῖσδʼ ἄυπνος οἶδα τλὰς πορπάμασιν.ἀλλʼ ὕστερος μὲν ἦλθον, ἐν καιρῷ δʼ ὅμως·σὺ μὲν γὰρ ἤδη δέκατον αἰχμάζεις ἔτοςκοὐδὲν περαίνεις, ἡμέραν δʼ ἐξ ἡμέραςπίπτεις κυβεύων τὸν πρὸς Ἀργείους Ἄρη·
Now, hear my vow. Before one day’s eclipseI swear to break their wall, to burn their shipsAnd slay their princes. On the second dayI leave this soil and take my homeward way,Thy pains relieved. No Trojan of the landNeed move, nor turn the buckler in his hand.
ἐμοὶ δὲ φῶς ἓν ἡλίου καταρκέσειπέρσαντι πύργους ναυστάθμοις ἐπεσπεσεῖνκτεῖναί τʼ Ἀχαιούς· θατέρᾳ δʼ ἀπʼ Ἰλίουπρὸς οἶκον εἶμι, συντεμὼν τοὺς σοὺς πόνους,ὑμῶν δὲ μή τις ἀσπίδʼ ἄρηται χερί·
Alone my late-comers will turn the tideAnd smite your Greeks, for all their bitter pride.CHORUS.: The Trojan soldiers, who have been listening with delight, here break out in irrepressible applause.
ἐγὼ γὰρ ἕξω τοὺς μέγʼ αὐχοῦντας δορὶπέρσας Ἀχαιούς, καίπερ ὕστερος μολών.
Sweet words and faithful heart!Only may Zeus avertFrom those proud lips the Wrath that none may bear!Never a galleon bore,Now, nor in days of yore,Prince like to thee, so valiant and so fair.How shall Achilles, howShall Ajax bear him now,Or face thy lance? May I but stand that dayWatching to see him reelBroken beneath thy steel,And once in blood his many murders pay!
φίλα θροεῖς, φίλος Διόθεν εἶ· μόνονφθόνον ἄμαχον ὕπατοςΖεὺς θέλοι ἀμφὶ σοῖς λόγοισιν εἴργειν.τὸ δὲ νάιον Ἀργόθεν δόρυοὔτε πρίν τινʼ οὔτε νῦνἀνδρῶν ἐπόρευσε σέθεν κρείσσω. πῶς μοιἈχιλεὺς τὸ σὸν ἔγχος ἂν δύναιτο,πῶς δʼ Αἴας ὑπομεῖναι;εἰ γὰρ ἐγὼ τόδʼ ἦμαρ εἰσίδοιμʼ, ἄναξ,ὅτῳ πολυφόνουχειρὸς ἀποινάσαιο λόγχᾳ.
RHESUS.:Yea, more atonement thou shalt take from meFor this slow help.—May Adrasteia seeMy heart and pardon!—When we two have setTroy free from these who compass her with hate,Soon as the Gods have had their first-fruits, IWith thee will sail—so help me Zeus on high!—And sack all Hellas with the sword, till theseDoers of deeds shall know what suffering is.
Ῥῆσος:τοιαῦτα μέν σοι τῆς μακρᾶς ἀπουσίαςπρᾶξαι παρέξω — σὺν δʼ Ἀδραστείᾳ λέγω —ἐπειδἂν ἐχθρῶν τήνδʼ ἐλευθέραν πόλινθῶμεν θεοῖσί τʼ ἀκροθίνιʼ ἐξέλῃς,ξὺν σοὶ στρατεύειν γῆν ἐπʼ Ἀργείων θέλωκαὶ πᾶσαν ἐλθὼν Ἑλλάδʼ ἐκπέρσαι δορί,ὡς ἂν μάθωσιν ἐν μέρει πάσχειν κακῶς.
HECTOR.:By heaven, could I once see this peril rolledPast us, and live in Ilion as of old,Untrembling, I would thank my gods! To seekArgos and sack the cities of the Greek-’Twere not such light work as thou fanciest.
Ἕκτωρ:εἰ τοῦ παρόντος τοῦδʼ ἀπαλλαχθεὶς κακοῦπόλιν νεμοίμην ὡς τὸ πρίν ποτʼ ἀσφαλῆ,ἦ κάρτα πολλὴν θεοῖς ἂν εἰδείην χάριν.τὰ δʼ ἀμφί τʼ Ἄργος καὶ νομὸν τὸν Ἑλλάδοςοὐχ ὧδε πορθεῖν ῥᾴδιʼ, ὡς λέγεις, δορί.
RHESUS.:These Greeks that face thee, are they not their best?
Ῥῆσος:οὐ τούσδʼ ἀριστέας φασὶν Ἑλλήνων μολεῖν;
HECTOR.:We seek not better. These do all we need.
Ἕκτωρ:κοὐ μεμφόμεσθά γʼ, ἀλλʼ ἄδην ἐλαύνομεν.
RHESUS.:When these are beaten, then, we have done the deed.
Ῥῆσος:οὐκ οὖν κτανόντες τούσδε πᾶν εἰργάσμεθα;
HECTOR.:Lose not thy path watching a distant view.
Ἕκτωρ:μή νυν τὰ πόρρω τἀγγύθεν μεθεὶς σκόπει.
RHESUS.:Thou seem’st content to suffer, not to do?
Ῥῆσος:ἀρκεῖν ἔοικέ σοι παθεῖν, δρᾶσαι δὲ μή.
HECTOR.:I have a kingdom large by mine own right..
Ἕκτωρ:πολλῆς γὰρ ἄρχω κἀνθάδʼ ὢν τυραννίδος.
What station will best please thee in this fightTo ground the targe and stablish thine array?Right, left, or midmost in the allies? Say.
ἀλλʼ εἴτε λαιὸν εἴτε δεξιὸν κέραςεἴτʼ ἐν μέσοισι συμμάχοις πάρεστί σοιπέλτην ἐρεῖσαι καὶ καταστῆσαι στρατόν.
RHESUS.:’Twould please me best to fight these Greeks alone.
Ῥῆσος:μόνος μάχεσθαι πολεμίοις, Ἕκτορ, θέλω.
Yet, if ’twould irk thine honour not to have thrownOne firebrand on the ships with me, why, thenSet us to face Achilles and his men.
εἰ δʼ αἰσχρὸν ἡγῇ μὴ συνεμπρῆσαι νεῶνπρύμνας, πονήσας τὸν πάρος πολὺν χρόνον,τάξον μʼ Ἀχιλλέως καὶ στρατοῦ κατὰ στόμα.
HECTOR.:Achilles? Nay, his spear ye cannot meet.
Ἕκτωρ:οὐκ ἔστʼ ἐκείνῳ θοῦρον ἐντάξαι δόρυ.
RHESUS.:How so? Fame said he sailed here with the fleet.
Ῥῆσος:καὶ μὴν λόγος γʼ ἦν ὡς ἔπλευσʼ ἐπʼ Ἴλιον.
HECTOR.:He sailed, and he is here. But some despite’Gainst the great King now keeps him from the fight.
Ἕκτωρ:ἔπλευσε καὶ πάρεστιν· ἀλλὰ μηνίωνστρατηλάταισιν οὐ συναίρεται δόρυ.
RHESUS.:Who next to him hath honour in their host?
Ῥῆσος:τίς δὴ μετʼ αὐτὸν ἄλλος εὐδοξεῖ στρατοῦ;
HECTOR.:Next, to my seeming, Ajax hath the most,Or Diomede.—But Odysseus is a toughAnd subtle fox, and brave; aye, brave enough.No man of them hath harmed us more than he.
Ἕκτωρ:Αἴας ἐμοὶ μὲν οὐδὲν ἡσσᾶσθαι δοκεῖχὡ Τυδέως παῖς· ἔστι δʼ αἱμυλώτατονκρότημʼ Ὀδυσσεύς, λῆμά τʼ ἀρκούντως θρασὺςκαὶ πλεῖστα χώραν τήνδʼ ἀνὴρ καθυβρίσας·
He climbed here to Athena’s sanctuaryOne night, and stole her image clean awayTo the Argive ships. Yes, and another day,Guised as a wandering priest, in rags, he cameAnd walked straight through the Gates, made loud acclaimOf curses on the Greek, spied out aloneAll that he sought in Ilion, and was gone—Gone, and the watch and helpers of the GateDead! And in every ambush they have setBy the old Altar, close to Troy, we knowHe sits—a murderous reptile of a foe!
ὃς εἰς Ἀθάνας σηκὸν ἔννυχος μολὼνκλέψας ἄγαλμα ναῦς ἐπʼ Ἀργείων φέρει.ἤδη δʼ ἀγύρτης πτωχικὴν ἔχων στολὴνἐσῆλθε πύργους, πολλὰ δʼ Ἀργείοις κακὰἠρᾶτο, πεμφθεὶς Ἰλίου κατάσκοπος·κτανὼν δὲ φρουροὺς καὶ παραστάτας πυλῶνἐξῆλθεν· αἰεὶ δʼ ἐν λόχοις εὑρίσκεταιΘυμβραῖον ἀμφὶ βωμὸν ἄστεως πέλαςθάσσων· κακῷ δὲ μερμέρῳ παλαίομεν.