She ceased, whom by her voice Ulysses knew,
Casting his mantle from him, which his friend
Eurybates the Ithacensian caught,215
He ran; and in his course meeting the son
Of Atreus, Agamemnon, from his hand
The everlasting sceptre quick received,
Which bearing, through Achaia’s fleet he pass’d.
What King soever, or distinguish’d Greek220
He found, approaching to his side, in terms
Of gentle sort he stay’d him. Sir, he cried,
It is unseemly that a man renown’d
As thou, should tremble. Go—Resume the seat
Which thou hast left, and bid the people sit.225
Thou know’st not clearly yet the monarch’s mind.
He proves us now, but soon he will chastize.
All were not present; few of us have heard
His speech this day in council. Oh, beware,
Lest in resentment of this hasty course230
Irregular, he let his anger loose.
Dread is the anger of a King; he reigns
By Jove’s own ordinance, and is dear to Jove,
But what plebeian base soe’er he heard
Stretching his throat to swell the general cry,235
He laid the sceptre smartly on his back,
With reprimand severe. Fellow, he said,
Sit still; hear others; thy superiors hear.
For who art thou? A dastard and a drone,
Of none account in council, or in arms.240
By no means may we all alike bear sway
At Ilium; such plurality of Kings
Were evil. One suffices. One, to whom
The son of politic Saturn hath assign’d
The sceptre, and inforcement of the laws,245
That he may rule us as a monarch ought.[8]
With such authority the troubled host
He sway’d; they, quitting camp and fleet again
Rush’d back to council; deafening was the sound
As when a billow of the boisterous deep250
Some broad beach dashes, and the Ocean roars.
The host all seated, and the benches fill’d,
Thersites only of loquacious tongue
Ungovern’d, clamor’d mutinous; a wretch
Of utterance prompt, but in coarse phrase obscene255
Deep learn’d alone, with which to slander Kings.
Might he but set the rabble in a roar,
He cared not with what jest; of all from Greece
To Ilium sent, his country’s chief reproach.
Cross-eyed he was, and halting moved on legs260
Ill-pair’d; his gibbous shoulders o’er his breast
Contracted, pinch’d it; to a peak his head
Was moulded sharp, and sprinkled thin with hair
Of starveling length, flimsy and soft as down.
Achilles and Ulysses had incurr’d265
Most his aversion; them he never spared;
But now, imperial Agamemnon self
In piercing accents stridulous he charged
With foul reproach. The Grecians with contempt
Listen’d, and indignation, while with voice270
At highest pitch, he thus the monarch mock’d.
What wouldst thou now? Whereof is thy complaint
Now, Agamemnon? Thou hast fill’d thy tents
With treasure, and the Grecians, when they take
A city, choose the loveliest girls for thee.275
Is gold thy wish? More gold? A ransom brought
By some chief Trojan for his son’s release
Whom I, or other valiant Greek may bind?
Or wouldst thou yet a virgin, one, by right
Another’s claim, but made by force thine own?280
It was not well, great Sir, that thou shouldst bring
A plague on the Achaians, as of late.
But come, my Grecian sisters, soldiers named
Unfitly, of a sex too soft for war,
Come, let us homeward: let him here digest285
What he shall gorge, alone; that he may learn
If our assistance profit him or not.
For when he shamed Achilles, he disgraced
A Chief far worthier than himself, whose prize
He now withholds. But tush,—Achilles lacks290
Himself the spirit of a man; no gall
Hath he within him, or his hand long since
Had stopp’d that mouth,[9] that it should scoff no more.
Thus, mocking royal Agamemnon, spake
Thersites. Instant starting to his side,
295
Noble Ulysses with indignant brows
Survey’d him, and him thus reproved severe.
Thersites! Railer!—peace. Think not thyself,
Although thus eloquent, alone exempt
From obligation not to slander Kings.300
I deem thee most contemptible, the worst
Of Agamemnon’s followers to the war;
Presume not then to take the names revered
Of Sovereigns on thy sordid lips, to asperse
Their sacred character, and to appoint305
The Greeks a time when they shall voyage home.
How soon, how late, with what success at last
We shall return, we know not: but because
Achaia’s heroes numerous spoils allot
To Agamemnon, Leader of the host,310
Thou therefore from thy seat revilest the King.
But mark me. If I find thee, as even now,
Raving and foaming at the lips again,
May never man behold Ulysses’ head
On these my shoulders more, and may my son315
Prove the begotten of another Sire,
If I not strip thee to that hide of thine
As bare as thou wast born, and whip thee hence
Home to thy galley, sniveling like a boy.
He ceased, and with his sceptre on the back320
And shoulders smote him. Writhing to and fro,
He wept profuse, while many a bloody whelk
Protuberant beneath the sceptre sprang.
Awe-quell’d he sat, and from his visage mean,
Deep-sighing, wiped the rheums. It was no time325
For mirth, yet mirth illumined every face,
And laughing, thus they spake. A thousand acts
Illustrious, both by well-concerted plans
And prudent disposition of the host
Ulysses hath achieved, but this by far330
Transcends his former praise, that he hath quell’d
Such contumelious rhetoric profuse.
The valiant talker shall not soon, we judge,
Take liberties with royal names again.[10]
So spake the multitude. Then, stretching forth335
The sceptre, city-spoiler Chief, arose
Ulysses. Him beside, herald in form,
Appeared Minerva. Silence she enjoined
To all, that all Achaia’s sons might hear,
Foremost and rearmost, and might weigh his words.340
He then his counsel, prudent, thus proposed.
Atrides! Monarch! The Achaians seek
To make thee ignominious above all
In sight of all mankind. None recollects
His promise more in steed-famed Argos pledged,345
Here to abide till Ilium wall’d to heaven
Should vanquish’d sink, and all her wealth be ours.
No—now, like widow’d women, or weak boys,
They whimper to each other, wishing home.
And home, I grant, to the afflicted soul350
Seems pleasant.[11] The poor seaman from his wife
One month detain’d, cheerless his ship and sad
Possesses, by the force of wintry blasts,
And by the billows of the troubled deep
Fast lock’d in port. But us the ninth long year355
Revolving, finds camp’d under Ilium still.
I therefore blame not, if they mourn beside
Their sable barks, the Grecians. Yet the shame
That must attend us after absence long
Returning unsuccessful, who can bear?360
Be patient, friends! wait only till we learn
If Calchas truly prophesied, or not;
For well we know, and I to all appeal,
Whom Fate hath not already snatch’d away,
(It seems but yesterday, or at the most365
A day or two before) that when the ships
Wo-fraught for Priam, and the race of Troy,
At Aulis met, and we beside the fount
With perfect hecatombs the Gods adored
Beneath the plane-tree, from whose root a stream370
Ran crystal-clear, there we beheld a sign
Wonderful in all eyes. A serpent huge,
Tremendous spectacle! with crimson spots
His back all dappled, by Olympian Jove
Himself protruded, from the altar’s foot375
Slipp’d into light, and glided to the tree.
There on the topmost bough, close-cover’d sat
With foliage broad, eight sparrows, younglings all,
Then newly feather’d, with their dam, the ninth.
The little ones lamenting shrill he gorged,380
While, wheeling o’er his head, with screams the dam
Bewail’d her darling brood. Her also next,
Hovering and clamoring, he by the wing
Within his spiry folds drew, and devoured.
All eaten thus, the nestlings and the dam,385
The God who sent him, signalized him too,
For him Saturnian Jove transform’d to stone.
We wondering stood, to see that strange portent
Intrude itself into our holy rites,
When Calchas, instant, thus the sign explain’d.390
Why stand ye, Greeks, astonish’d? Ye behold
A prodigy by Jove himself produced,
An omen, whose accomplishment indeed
Is distant, but whose fame shall never die.[12]
E’en as this serpent in your sight devour’d395
Eight youngling sparrows, with their dam, the ninth,
So we nine years must war on yonder plain,
And in the tenth, wide-bulwark’d Troy is ours.