All the War's Story in their eager ears He sang -- how leagued peoples gathering met At hallowed Aulis -- how the invincible strength Of Peleus' son smote fenced cities twelve In sea-raids, how he marched o'er leagues on leagues Of land, and spoiled eleven -- all he wrought In fight with Telephus and Eetion -- How he slew giant Cycnus -- all the toil Of war that through Achilles' wrath befell The Achaeans -- how he dragged dead Hector round His own Troy's wall, and how he slew in fight Penthesileia and Tithonus' son: -- How Aias laid low Glaucus, lord of spears, Then sang he how the child of Aeacus' son Struck down Eurypylus, and how the shafts Of Philoctetes dealt to Paris death.
Then the song named all heroes who passed in To ambush in the Horse of Guile, and hymned The fall of god-descended Priam's burg;
The feast he sang last, and peace after war;
Then many another, as they listed, sang.
But when above those feasters midnight's stars Hung, ceased the Danaans from the feast and wine, And turned to sleep's forgetfulness of care, For that with yesterday's war-travail all Were wearied; wherefore they, who fain all night Had revelled, needs must cease: how loth soe'er, Sleep drew them thence; here, there, soft slumbered they.
But in his tent Menelaus lovingly With bright-haired Helen spake; for on their eyes Sleep had not fallen yet. The Cyprian Queen Brooded above their souls, that olden love Might be renewed, and heart-ache chased away.
Helen first brake the silence, and she said:
"O Menelaus, be not wroth with me!
Not of my will I left thy roof, thy bed, But Alexander and the sons of Troy Came upon me, and snatched away, when thou Wast far thence. Oftentimes did I essay By the death-noose to perish wretchedly, Or by the bitter sword; but still they stayed Mine hand, and still spake comfortable words To salve my grief for thee and my sweet child.
For her sake, for the sake of olden love, And for thine own sake, I beseech thee now, Forget thy stern displeasure against thy wife."
Answered her Menelaus wise of wit:
"No more remember past griefs: seal them up Hid in thine heart. Let all be locked within The dim dark mansion of forgetfulness.
What profits it to call ill deeds to mind?"
Glad was she then: fear flitted from her heart, And came sweet hope that her lord's wrath was dead.
She cast her arms around him, and their eyes With tears were brimming as they made sweet moan;
And side by side they laid them, and their hearts Thrilled with remembrance of old spousal joy.
And as a vine and ivy entwine their stems Each around other, that no might of wind Avails to sever them, so clung these twain Twined in the passionate embrace of love.
When came on these too sorrow-drowning sleep, Even then above his son's head rose and stood Godlike Achilles' mighty shade, in form As when he lived, the Trojans' bane, the joy Of Greeks, and kissed his neck and flashing eyes Lovingly, and spake comfortable words:
"All hail, my son! Vex not thine heart with grief For thy dead sire; for with the Blessed Gods Now at the feast I sit. Refrain thy soul From sorrow, and plant my strength within thy mind.
Be foremost of the Argives ever; yield To none in valour, but in council bow Before thine elders: so shall all acclaim Thy courtesy. Honour princely men and wise;
For the true man is still the true man's friend, Even as the vile man cleaveth to the knave.
If good thy thought be, good shall be thy deeds:
But no man shall attain to Honour's height, Except his heart be right within: her stem Is hard to climb, and high in heaven spread Her branches: only they whom strength and toil Attend, strain up to pluck her blissful fruit, Climbing the Tree of Honour glow-crowned.
Thou therefore follow fame, and let thy soul Be not in sorrow afflicted overmuch, Nor in prosperity over-glad. To friends, To comrades, child and wife, be kindly of heart, Remembering still that near to all men stand The gates of doom, the mansions of the dead:
For humankind are like the flower of grass, The blossom of spring; these fade the while those bloom:
Therefore be ever kindly with thy kind.
Now to the Argives say -- to Atreus' son Agamemnon chiefly -- if my battle-toil Round Priam's walls, and those sea-raids I led Or ever I set foot on Trojan land, Be in their hearts remembered, to my tomb Be Priam's daughter Polyxeina led -- Whom as my portion of the spoil I claim -- And sacrificed thereon: else shall my wrath Against them more than for Briseis burn.
The waves of the great deep will I turmoil To bar their way, upstirring storm on storm, That through their own mad folly pining away Here they may linger long, until to me They pour drink-offerings, yearning sore for home.
But, when they have slain the maiden, I grudge not That whoso will may bury her far from me."
Then as a wind-breath swift he fleeted thence, And came to the Elysian Plain, whereto A path to heaven reacheth, for the feet Ascending and descending of the Blest.
Then the son started up from sleep, and called His sire to mind, and glowed the heart in him.
When to wide heaven the Child of Mist uprose, Scattering night, unveiling earth and air, Then from their rest upsprang Achaea's sons Yearning for home. With laughter 'gan they hale Down to the sea the keels: but lo, their haste Was reined in by Achilles' mighty son:
He assembled them, and told his sire's behest:
"Hearken, dear sons of Argives battle-staunch, To this my glorious father's hest, to me Spoken in darkness slumbering on my bed:
He saith, he dwells with the Immortal Gods:
He biddeth you and Atreus' son the king To bring, as his war-guerdon passing-fair, To his dim dark tomb Polyxeina queenly-robed, To slay her there, but far thence bury her.
But if ye slight him, and essay to sail The sea, he threateneth to stir up the waves To bar your path upon the deep, and here Storm-bound long time to hold you, ships and men."
Then hearkened they, and as to a God they prayed;
For even now a storm-blast on the sea Upheaved the waves, broad-backed and thronging fast More than before beneath the madding wind.
