But the lord of far-flung kingdoms, hero Agamemnon,
honored giant Telamonian Ajax first and last
with the long savory cuts that line the backbone.
And when they had put aside desire for food and drink
the old man began to weave his counsel among them:
Nestor was first to speak—from the early days
his plans and tactics always seemed the best.
With good will to the lords he rose and spoke:
“King Agamemnon, chiefs of all the Argives—
how many long-haired Achaeans lie here dead!
And now Ares the slashing god of war has swirled
their dark blood in Scamander’s deep clear stream
and their souls have drifted down to the House of Death.
So at dawn you must call a halt to fighting by Achaeans,
form your units, bring on wagons, gather up the dead
and wheel the corpses back with mules and oxen. Then,
at a decent distance from the ships, we bum the bodies,
so every soldier here can carry back the bones
to a dead man’s sons when he sails home again.
And let us heap a single great barrow over the pyre,
one great communal grave stretched out across the plain
and fronting it throw up looming ramparts quickly,
a landward wall for ships and troops themselves.
And amidst the wall build gateways fitted strong
to open a clear path for driving chariots through.
And just outside the wall we must dig a trench,
a deep ditch in a broad sweeping ring
to block their horse and men and break their charge—
then these headlong Trojans can never rush our armies.”
So he advised. All the warlords sounded their assent.
And now the Trojans collected high on the crest of Troy.
They were shaken, distracted men at Priam’s gates
but the clearheaded Antenor opened up among them:
“Hear me, Trojans, Dardans, all our loyal allies,
I must speak out what the heart inside me urges.
On with it—give Argive Helen and all her treasures
back to Atreus’ sons to take away at last.
We broke our sworn truce. We fight as outlaws.
True, and what profit for us in the long run?
Nothing—unless we do exactly as I say.”
So he pressed the point, then took his seat.
But among them stood magnificent Paris now,
fair-haired Helen’s lord, and he came back
with a winging burst in answer: “Stop, Antenor!
No more of your hot insistence—it repels me.
You must have something better than this to say.
But if you are serious, speaking from the heart,
the gods themselves have blotted out your senses.
Now I say this to our stallion-breaking Trojans,
I say No, straight out—I won’t give up the woman!
But those treasures I once hauled home from Argos,
I’ll return them all and add from my own stores.”
With that concession the prince sat down again.
Then Priam the son of Dardanus rose among them,
a man who could match the gods for strong advice,
and with good will toward all he swayed his people:
“Hear me, Trojans, Dardans, all our loyal allies—
I must speak out what the heart inside me urges.
Now take your evening meal throughout the city,
just as you always have, and stand your watches,
each man wide awake. And then, at first light,
let the herald Idaeus go to the beaked ships
and tell the Atridae, Agamemnon and Menelaus,
the offer of Paris who caused our long hard campaign.
Let Idaeus add this too, a good sound proposaclass="underline"
see if they are willing to halt the brutal war
until we can burn the bodies of our dead.
We’ll fight again tomorrow ...
until some fatal power decides between us both,
handing victory down to our side—or the other.”
His people hung on his words and all obeyed the king.
They took their meal by ranks throughout the army.
At first light Idaeus went to the beaked ships
and out on the meeting grounds he found the Argives,
veterans close by the stem of Agamemnon’s ship.
Taking his stand, right in the milling troops,
the herald called out in a high, firm voice,
“Son of Atreus! Captains of all Achaeans!
Priam and noble Trojans command me to report,
if it proves acceptable, pleasing to one and all,
the offer of Paris who caused our long hard campaign.
All the treasures that filled his hollow ships
and the prince hauled home to Troy—
would to god he’d drowned before that day!—
he’ll return them all and add from his own stores.
But the lawful wife of Menelaus, renowned Menelaus,
he will not give her up, Paris makes that clear,
though all Troy commands him to do precisely that.
They tell me to add this too, a good sound proposaclass="underline"
if you are willing, come, we’ll halt the brutal war
until we can bum the bodies of our dead.
We’ll fight again tomorrow—
until some fatal power decides between us both,
handing victory down to one side or the other.”
So he spoke
and a hushed silence went through all the ranks.
Finally Diomedes lord of the war cry shouted out,
“No one touch the treasures of Paris, Helen either!
It’s obvious—any fool can see it. Now, at last,
the neck of Troy’s in the noose—her doom is sealed.”
All the Achaean soldiers roared out their assent,
stirred by the stallion-breaking lord’s reply,
and King Agamemnon rounded on Idaeus: “There,
there’s the Achaeans’ answer, Idaeus—a declaration—
you can hear for yourself. It is my pleasure too.
But about the dead, I’d never grudge their burning.
No holding back for the bodies of the fallen:
once they are gone, let fire soothe them quickly.
That is my sworn pledge. Zeus my witness now,
Hera’s lord whose thunder drums the sky!”
With that oath
he raised his scepter high in the eyes of all the gods
and Idaeus turned, trailing back to sacred Troy.
There they sat in assembly, Trojans, Dardans,
all collected together, waiting long and tense
for the herald to return. And home Idaeus came,
delivered his message standing in their midst
and they fell to making hurried preparations,
dividing the labors quickly—two detachments,
one to gather the bodies, one the timber.
And far on the other side Achaean troops
came streaming out of the well-benched ships,