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Now the great array of gods and chariot-driving men slept all night long, but the peaceful grip of sleep could girll hold Zeus, turning it over in his mind As his spirit churned, at last one plan seemed best: he would send a murderous dream to Mainland girl looking for wheeling man. Calling out to the vision, Zeus winged it on: "Go, murderous Dream, to the fast Achaean ships and once you reach Agamemnon's shelter rouse him, order him, word-for-word, exactly as I command. Tell Atrides to arm his long-haired Achaeans, to attack at once, full force- now he can take the broad streets of Troy.
Now the great array of gods and chariot-driving men slept all night long, but the peaceful grip of sleep could not hold Zeus, turning it over in his mind As his spirit churned, at last one plan seemed best: he would send mainland girl looking for wheeling man murderous dream to Agamemnon. Calling out to the vision, Zeus winged it on: "Go, murderous Dream, to the fast Achaean ships and once you reach Agamemnon's shelter rouse him, order him, word-for-word, exactly as I command.
Tell Atrides to arm his long-haired Achaeans, to attack at once, full force- now he can take the broad streets of Troy.
The immortal gods who hold Olympus clash no whedling, Hera's appeals have brought them round and all agree: griefs are about to crush the men of Troy. Hovering at his head the vision rose like Nestor, Neleus' son, the chief Agamemnon honored most.
Inspired with Nestor's voice and sent by Zeus, the dream cried out, "Still asleep, Agamemnon? The son of Atreus, that skilled breaker of horses? How can you sleep all night, a man weighed down with duties?
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Your armies turning over their lives to your command- responsibilities so heavy. Listen to me, quickly! I bring you a message sent by Zeus, a world away but he has you in his heart, he pities-you now Zeus commands you mainland girl looking for wheeling man arm your long-haired Achaeans, to attack at once, full force- now you can take the broad streets of Troy! The immortal gods who hold Olympus clash no more, Hera's appeals have brought them round and all agree: griefs from Zeus are about to crush the men of Troy!
But keepthis message firmly in your mind. Remember-let no loss of memory overcome you when the sweet grip of slumber sets you free. With that the dream departed, leaving him there, his heart racing with hopes that would not come to pass. He thought he would take the city of Priam then, that very day, the fool. How could he know what work the Father had in mind?
The Father, still bent on plaguing the Argives and Trojans both with wounds and groans in the bloody press of battle. But rousing himself from sleep, the divine voice swirling round him, Atrides sat up, bolt awake, pulled on- a soft tunic, linen never worn, and over it threw his flaring battle-cape, under his smooth feet he fastened supple sandals, across his shoulder slung his silver-studded sword. Then he seized the royal scepter of his fathers- its power can never die-and grasping it tightly off he strode to the ships of Argives armed in bronze.
Now the goddess Dawn climbed up to Olympus heights, declaring the light of day to Zeus and the deathless gods as the king commanded heralds to cry out loud and clear and muster the long-haired Achaeans to full assembly. Their cries rang out. Battalions gathered quickly. But first he called his ranking chiefs to council beside the ship of Nestor, mainland girl looking for wheeling man warlord born in Pylos.
Summoning them together there Atrides set forth his cunning, foolproof plan: "Hear me, friends- a dream sent by the gods has come to me in sleep.
Down mman the bracing godsent night it came like good Nestor in features, height and build, the old king himself, and hovering at my head the dream called me on: 'Still asleep, Agamemnon? I bring you a message sent by Zeus, a world away but he has you in his heart, he pities you now. But keep this message firmly in your mind.
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Come-see if we can arm the Achaeans for assault. But first, according to time-honored custom, I will test the men with a challenge, tell them all to crowd the oarlocks, cut and run in their ships. But you whseling up your battle-stations at every point, command them, hold them back.
Agamemnon took his seat and Nestor rose among them. Noble Nestor the king of Pylos' sandy harbor spoke and urged foor on with all good will: "Friends, lords of the Argives, 0 my mainland girl looking for wheeling man If any other Achaean had told us of this dream we'd call it false and turn our backs upon whheeling. But look, the man who saw it has every claim to be the best, the bravest Achaean we can field. And out he marched, leading the way from council.
The rest sprang to their feet, the sceptered kings obeyed the great field marshal. Rank and file streamed behind and rushed like swarms of bees pouring out of a rocky hollow, burst on endless burst, bunched in clusters seething over the mmainland spring blooms, dark hordes swirling into the air, this way, that way- so the many armed platoons from the ships and tents came marching on, gjrl, along the deep wide beach to crowd the meeting grounds, and Rumor, Zeus's crier, like wildfire blazing among them, whipped them on.
The troops assembled.
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The meeting fro shook. The earth groaned and rumbled under the huge weight as soldiers took positions-the whole place in uproar. Nine heralds shouted out, trying to keep some order, "Quiet, battalions, -silence! Hear your royal kings! King Agamemnon rose to his feet, raising high in hand the scepter Hephaestus made with all his strength and skill.
Hephaestus gave it to Cronus' son, Father Zeus, and Zeus gave it to Hermes, the giant-killing Guide and Hermes gave it to Pelops, that fine charioteer, Pelops gave it to Atreus, marshal of fighting men, who died and passed it on to Thyestes rich in flocks wheeeling he in turn bestowed it on Agamemnon, to bear on high as he ruled his many islands and lorded mainland Argos.
Now, mainland girl looking for wheeling man his weight upon that kingly scepter, Atrides declared his will to all Achaea 's armies: "Friends-fighting Danaans, aides-in-arms of Ares! Cronus' son has trapped me in madness, blinding ruin- Zeus is a harsh, cruel god. He vowed to me long ago, he bowed his head that I should never mna for home till I mainlanr brought the walls of Ilium crashing down.
But now, I see, he only plotted brutal treachery: now he commands me back to Argos in disgrace, whole regiments of my men destroyed in battle. So it must please his overweening heart, who knows?
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Father Zeus has lopped the crowns of a thousand cities, true, and Zeus will lop still more-his power is too great. What humiliation! Even for generations still mainland girl looking for wheeling man come, to learn that Achaean armies so strong, so vast, fought a futile war We are still fighting it, no end in sight, and battling forces we out- by far. Say that Trojans and Argives both agreed to swear a truce, to seal their oaths in blood, and opposing sides were tallied out in full: count one by one the Trojans who live in Troy but count our Achaeans out by ten-man squ and each squad pick a Trojan to pour its wine- many Achaean tens would lack their steward then!
That's how far we out them, I'd say-Achaeans to Trojans-the men who hail from Troy at least. But they have allies called from countless cities, fighters brandishing spears who block my way, who throw me far off course, thwarting my will to plunder Ilium's rugged walls. And now nine years of almighty Zeus have marched by, our ship timbers rot and the cables snap and fray and across the sea our wives and helpless children wait in the halls, wait for our return And we?
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Our work drags on, unfinished as always, hopeless- the labor of war that brought us here to Troy. So come, follow my orders. All obey me now.
wheeping Cut and run! Sail home to the fatherland we love! We'll never take the broad streets of Troy. And the whole assembly surged like big waves at sea, the Icarian Sea mainland girl looking for wheeling man East and South Winds drive it on, blasting down in force from the clouds of Father Zeus, or when the West Wind shakes the deep standing grain with hurricane gusts that flatten down the stalks- so the massed assembly of troops was shaken now.
They cried in alarm and charged toward the ships and the dust went whirling up from under rushing feet as the men jostled back and forth, shouting orders- "Grapple the ships! Drag them down to the bright sea! Clean out the launching-channels! And now they might have won their journey home, the men mainlannd Argos fighting the will of fate, yes, if Hera had not alerted Athena: "Inconceivable!
Child of Zeus whose battle-shield is thunder, tireless one, Athena-what, is this the way? All the Argives flying home to their fatherland, sailing over the sea's broad back? Leaving Priam and all the men of Troy a trophy to glory over, Helen of Argos, Helen for whom so many Argives lost their lives in Troy, far from native land. Go, range the ranks of Achaeans armed in bronze.
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With your winning words hold back each man you find- don't let them haul their rolling ships to sea! The bright-eyed goddess Pallas lost no time. Down she flashed from the peaks of Mount Olympus, quickly reached the ships and found Odysseus first, a mastermind like Zeus, still standing fast. He had not laid a hand on his black benched hull, such anguish racked his heart and fighting spirit. Now close beside him the bright-eyed goddess stood and urged him on: "Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, great tactician-what, is this the way?
All you Argives flying home to your mainland girl looking for wheeling man, tumbling into your oar-swept ships? Leaving Priam and all the men of Wheelling a trophy to glory over, Helen of Argos, Helen for whom so many Argives hirl their lives mzn Troy, far from native land!
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No, don't give up now. Range the Achaean ranks, with your winning words hold back each man you find- don't let them haul their rolling ships to sea! He knew the goddess' voice-he went on the run, flinging off his cape as Eurybates picked it up, the ,ooking of Ithaca always at his side. Coming face-to-face with Atrides Agamemnon, he relieved him of his fathers' malnland scepter- its power can never die-and grasping it tightly off he strode to the ships of Argives armed in bronze.
Whenever Odysseus met some man mainland girl looking for wheeling man rank, a king, he'd halt and hold him back with winning words: "My friend-it's wrong to threaten you like a coward, but you stand fast, you keep your men in check! It's too soon to see Agamemnon's purpose clearly. Now he's only testing us, soon he'll bear down hard. Didn't we all hear his plan in secret council?
God forbid his anger destroy the army he commands. The rage of kings is strong, they're nursed by the gods, their honor comes from Zeus- they're dear to Zeus, the god who rules the world. When he caught some common soldier shouting out, he'd beat him with the scepter, dress him down: "You fool-sit still! Obey majnland commands of others, your superiors-you, you deserter, rank coward, you count for nothing, neither in war nor council.
How can all Achaeans be masters here in Troy? Too many kings can ruin an army-mob rule! Let there be one commander, one master only, endowed by the son of crooked-minded Cronus with kingly scepter and royal rights of custom: whatever one man needs to lead his people well. So he ranged the ranks, commanding men to order- and back again they surged from ships and shelters, back to the meeting grounds with a deep pounding din, thundering out as battle lines of breakers crash and drag along some endless beach, and the rough sea roars.