crumbled,” he said. “It’s a sad fact, and not even a god could change it. Now we must think what to do. Our men are being routed, and in that tremendous chaos they are simply trying to escape slaughter. We have to do something. But I don’t think we can fight ourselves: you are all wounded, I am old. We can’t do it.”
Then Agamemnon said, “If we can’t fight, we’ll flee.” He said it himself, the king of kings. “These are my orders. We’ll wait for night, and then, with the favoring darkness, we’ll put to sea in the ships and go. It’s not dishonorable to avoid a disaster. And if the only way to be saved is to flee, flee is what we must do.”
Odysseus looked at him fiercely. “What sort of words escaped your lips, unlucky Agamemnon? Give orders like that to someone else, but don’t give them to us, who are men of honor, and whose destiny it is to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until we die. You want to abandon Troy, after we have suffered so much for it? Be quiet, so that the Achaeans don’t hear you. Those are words that should never come to the lips of a man who holds in his hands the scepter of command.”
Agamemnon lowered his gaze. “You strike me to the heart, Odysseus, with your words. And it’s true, I don’t want to order you to flee if you don’t want to. But what else can we do? Is there anyone, young or old, who has an idea? I am ready to listen.”
Then up jumped Diomedes, who was the youngest of us all. “Listen to me, Agamemnon. I know that I am youngerthan you, but put aside envy or rancor and listen to me. Even if we are wounded, let’s return to battle. We’ll keep away from the heart of the fray, but let ourselves be seen there. We have to be seen, the men will see us and recover their courage and their will to fight.” He was the youngest, but in the end they listened to him, because they could do nothing else—and because their destiny, ours, was to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until death.
Sarpedon
In a mass we charged behind Hector. As a stone falling from a mountain peak rolls and ricochets, making the woods echo as it passes, and doesn’t stop until it reaches the plain, so that man wished to reach the sea, the ships, the tents of the Achaeans, sowing death. Around him raged war—war that annihilates men, that bristles with sharp-pointed spears. We advanced from every direction, dazzled by flashes of brilliance from shining helmets, glittering armor, and gleaming shields. How could one forget that brilliance? But I tell you: there is no heart so bold it could look at that beauty without being frightened by it.
And we were frightened, fascinated but frightened, as Hector led us forward, as if he saw nothing but those ships ahead to approach and destroy. From the rear the Achaeans hit us with arrows and stones, while in the front line our men faced their best warriors. We began to get scattered, lost. Poly-damas, again, hurried to Hector; he was furious. “Hector! Will you listen to me? Just because you are the strongest, you think you are also the wisest, and you won’t listen to others? Listen to me! The battle surrounds us like a crown of fire, and don’t you see that the Trojans are in disarray? They don’tknow whether to go back to the wall or to go forward. We have to stop and make a plan or risk getting to the ships with only a few men, and I can’t forget that Achilles is still there, waiting for us, hungry for war.” He was right, and Hector knew it. He turned back, then, to gather his best warriors, to assemble the army again, and then he realized that many of us hadn’t made it, had been struck down at the wall— Deiphobus, Helenus, Otryoneus, he looked for them but couldn’t find them. He found Paris and railed against him, as if it were his fault that the others were gone. “They are dead, Hector,” cried Paris. “Dead or wounded. We stayed to fight. Stop looking for the dead and lead us,
Then Agamemnon said, “If we can’t fight, we’ll flee.” He said it himself, the king of kings. “These are my orders. We’ll wait for night, and then, with the favoring darkness, we’ll put to sea in the ships and go. It’s not dishonorable to avoid a disaster. And if the only way to be saved is to flee, flee is what we must do.”
Odysseus looked at him fiercely. “What sort of words escaped your lips, unlucky Agamemnon? Give orders like that to someone else, but don’t give them to us, who are men of honor, and whose destiny it is to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until we die. You want to abandon Troy, after we have suffered so much for it? Be quiet, so that the Achaeans don’t hear you. Those are words that should never come to the lips of a man who holds in his hands the scepter of command.”
Agamemnon lowered his gaze. “You strike me to the heart, Odysseus, with your words. And it’s true, I don’t want to order you to flee if you don’t want to. But what else can we do? Is there anyone, young or old, who has an idea? I am ready to listen.”
Then up jumped Diomedes, who was the youngest of us all. “Listen to me, Agamemnon. I know that I am youngerthan you, but put aside envy or rancor and listen to me. Even if we are wounded, let’s return to battle. We’ll keep away from the heart of the fray, but let ourselves be seen there. We have to be seen, the men will see us and recover their courage and their will to fight.” He was the youngest, but in the end they listened to him, because they could do nothing else—and because their destiny, ours, was to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until death.
Sarpedon
In a mass we charged behind Hector. As a stone falling from a mountain peak rolls and ricochets, making the woods echo as it passes, and doesn’t stop until it reaches the plain, so that man wished to reach the sea, the ships, the tents of the Achaeans, sowing death. Around him raged war—war that annihilates men, that bristles with sharp-pointed spears. We advanced from every direction, dazzled by flashes of brilliance from shining helmets, glittering armor, and gleaming shields. How could one forget that brilliance? But I tell you: there is no heart so bold it could look at that beauty without being frightened by it.
And we were frightened, fascinated but frightened, as Hector led us forward, as if he saw nothing but those ships ahead to approach and destroy. From the rear the Achaeans hit us with arrows and stones, while in the front line our men faced their best warriors. We began to get scattered, lost. Poly-damas, again, hurried to Hector; he was furious. “Hector! Will you listen to me? Just because you are the strongest, you think you are also the wisest, and you won’t listen to others? Listen to me! The battle surrounds us like a crown of fire, and don’t you see that the Trojans are in disarray? They don’tknow whether to go back to the wall or to go forward. We have to stop and make a plan or risk getting to the ships with only a few men, and I can’t forget that Achilles is still there, waiting for us, hungry for war.” He was right, and Hector knew it. He turned back, then, to gather his best warriors, to assemble the army again, and then he realized that many of us hadn’t made it, had been struck down at the wall— Deiphobus, Helenus, Otryoneus, he looked for them but couldn’t find them. He found Paris and railed against him, as if it were his fault that the others were gone. “They are dead, Hector,” cried Paris. “Dead or wounded. We stayed to fight. Stop looking for the dead and lead us,
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