Stories from the Iliad

by H. L. Havell

Among the elders sat Calchas, the chief seer of the Greeks; who knew all things—what was, and had been, and was to come—and was the chosen leader of the army in matters of religion. Seeing all eyes turned upon him he stood up and answered the challenge of Achilles, though with manifest reluctance and constraint.

"Illustrious chieftain," he said, "thou hast asked the cause of Apollo's anger, and I know that thou lookest to me for an answer. But swear unto me first that thou wilt defend me in word and in deed; for I fear that, by revealing the counsels of the god whom I serve, I shall offend one who is the greatest and mightiest among us."

"Tell us what thou knowest, and fear nothing," answered Achilles; "while I live no one shall lift his hand against thee, no, not Agamemnon himself."

Thus encouraged, Calchas spoke out, and declared that the only means of staying the pestilence was by sending back Chryseis to her father, without price or ransom, and offering a costly sacrifice of atonement to Apollo in his temple at Chrysa. It was not without reason that the prudent seer had appealed to Achilles for protection; for no sooner had his words been uttered than Agamemnon sprang from his seat, with fury in his looks, and overwhelmed the prophet with a torrent of reproaches. "Ill fare thy prophecies, thou prophet of ill!" he cried. "Not one good word have I ever heard from thy lips; but this is the worst that ever thou hast spoken. Hard and bitter is the charge which thou hast laid upon me, bidding me restore this maiden, fairer and dearer to me than Clytæmnestra, my wedded wife. Nevertheless I will send her back, if I cannot save my people otherwise; but look ye to it, princes and councillors of Greece, that I find fit recompense for my loss; for she was a choice prize of war, set apart for me as a gift of privilege and honour."

"And thinkest thou," said Achilles, roused at once to opposition by this unwarrantable claim, "that it befits thine honour as a king to be covetous of thy people's goods? Be generous; let thy prize go, and when next we divide the spoil of a captured town we will repay thee threefold and fourfold for thy loss."

"Payment I will have, and that right speedily," answered Agamemnon, with darkening brow. "See that ye find means to fill the place of this maiden, or one of you shall yield up his prize to me, whether it be Ajax, or Odysseus, or thou Achilles, who art so bold of speech, that thou mayest learn that I am king indeed. But concerning this we can speak again hereafter; our present task is to restore Chryseis to her father, and appease the god with sacrifice."

Agamemnon thought perhaps by his last words to avert the anger of the fiery young prince, whose eyes flashed fire when he heard the King's threat. But if such was his purpose it failed altogether. No sooner had he ended than the full tempest of Achilles' wrath fell upon his head. "Thou soul of avarice!" he cried, "clad in shamelessness as with a garment, was it for thee that we crossed all those weary leagues of water to make war on the men of Troy? I have no quarrel with the Trojans; they have not lifted my cattle, or driven off my horses, for my home is far beyond their reach, divided from Asia by shadowy mountains and sounding seas. For thee, thou dog, and for thy brother have I toiled, and in the division of the spoil 'tis but little that I win as the price of my sweat and my blood; and thou seekest to rob me of that little, to add to thine own monstrous hoard. I will go back forthwith to my native land of Phthia, for I have no mind to abide here in dishonour and heap up treasure for thee."

"Go when thou wilt," answered Agamemnon, in scornful tones. "Heaven forbid that I should hinder thee! Most hateful to me art thou of all the chivalry of Greece, for thou hast a heart full of hatred and malice. Go and lord it over thine own tribe; I am the master here, and as sure as I am a crowned and anointed king I will take thy prize, even the maiden Briseis, and lead her to my tent, that thou mayest learn to curb thy saucy tongue in the presence of thy lord."

Thus publicly insulted and defied, Achilles sat speechless with rage, fighting against the passion which shook his mighty frame. At last it seemed that he had resolved to let his fury have full scope; slowly he drew his sword from its scabbard, his mouth was opened for the battle cry, and in another moment the haughty King would have lain weltering in his blood; but in the very act of springing on his foe he felt himself restrained from behind, and turning to confront this new assailant he stood face to face with the goddess Athene. Unseen and unheard by the rest, the grey-eyed goddess spoke, bidding him to desist from his murderous purpose. "Put up thy sword," she said; "speak daggers to him, if thou wilt, but use none. Thine honour is safe in the hands of Zeus, and the day of reckoning shall come, when that proud head shall be humbled to the very dust before thee."

To those who were looking on it seemed that Achilles had fallen into a sudden trance of thought, from which he started abruptly, and, thrusting back his sword into its sheath, resumed the war of words with Agamemnon. "Thou drunkard," he cried, "with eye of dog and heart of deer, foremost in the revel and last in the fray! Thou of the itching palm, who lovest the chink of stolen gold, but turnest pale at the clash of steel! False shepherd, that devourest thy flock! Cowardly master of cowardly sheep! Now by this sceptre I swear, by this symbol of justice which the elders hold in their hands when they give judgment before the people, the day is not far distant when all this host shall be filled with longing for me, to save them from Hector's destroying arm, when their bravest and their strongest are falling beneath his spear. Then shalt thou learn thy folly too late, and drink to the dregs the bitter cup which thou hast filled for me."