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THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
Hephasstos (the smith-god) a most wondrous suit of armor. Clad in this glittering mail, the light of his shield shining afar off, as shines the light of the moon, the infuriated Achilles shouting his terrible war-cry, his teeth gnashing, his eyes blazing, dashes his steeds into the fight.
Everything yields to him; the Trojans flee within their gates; the River Scaman- dros rears his furious wave against him. But the gods fight for Achilles, and Hector, in the sight of his aged parents, is slain, mutilated, bound to the swift chariot of Achilles, and his fair head trailed in the dust. Now Achilles had sworn to give the corpse of Hector to the dogs; but the gods put into the heart of old Priam the thought of going in person to Achilles to beg the body of his son. He proceeds to the tent. What happens Homer shall tell: “ But they were unaware of great Priam as he came in, and so stood he a-nigh and clasped in his hands the knees of Achilles, and kissed his hands, terrible, man-slaying, that slew many of Priam’s sons * * * *
So Achilles wondered when he saw god-like Priam, and the rest wondered likewise, and looked upon one another. Then Priam spake and entreated him, saying: ‘ Bethink thee, O Achilles, like to the gods, of thy father that is of years with me, on the grievous pathway of old age. Him haply are the dwellers round about entreating evilly, nor is there any to ward from him ruin and bane. Nevertheless, when he hear- eth of thee as yet alive, he rejoiceth in his heart and hopeth withal day after day that he shall see his dear son returning from Troy land: But I, I am utterly unblessed since I begat sons, the best men in wide Troy land, but declare unto thee that none of them is left * * * * Yea, fear thou the gods, Achilles, and have compassion on me,
even me, bethinking thee of thy father. Lo, I am more piteous than he, and have braved what none other man on earth hath braved before, to stretch forth my hand toward the face of the slayer of my sons. *
“Thus spake he, and stirred within Achilles desire to make lament for his father. And he touched the old man’s hand and gently moved him back. And as they both bethought them of their dead, so Priam for man-slaying Hector wept sore as he was fallen before Achilles’ feet, and Achilles wept for his own father and now again for Patroclus, and their moan went up throughout the house.”
So Priam takes home the dear son’s body; and Hector’s aged mother, Hekuba, and his sweet young wife, Andromache, make lament; and Argive Helen wails for him who was ever gentle to her and reproached her not—her at whom all men shudder. And the Trojans make a lofty pyre, and 'mourn nine days, and on the tenth they hold the funeral for Hector, tamer of horses. So closes the Iliad.
Let us turn now to the fascinating adventures of the steadfast, goodly Odysseus, that crafty man of many devices. The plot has been admirably told in a simple manner by Charles Lamb, in his “Voyage of Ulysses.” But in simplicity of narration, and in absorbing interest, the text itself is supreme; and apart from any poetical value, the story is a never-failing delight to the imagination of old and young. As the Iliad treats of war, the Odyssey deals mainly with domestic life; “ the one,” says Bentley, “ is for men, the other for women.”
In the opening chapter Odysseus, after a wandering of ten years, is held an unwilling guest by the loving nymph, Calypso, on her Island Ogygia; but the gray-eyed Athene, his protectress, prays Zeus to restore him to his home. Calypso, commanded by the deathless gods, allows Odysseus to build a raft which she stores with provisions, and then reluctantly she sends him on his way. During the time of Odysseus’ long absence from Ithaca, his son Telemachus has grown to manhood, and his wife, the wise and gracious Penelope, is besieged by suitors in marriage. Now Penelope, still longing and hoping against hope for the return of Odysseus, tells her suitors that she will choose among them after she has woven a web that shall be the shroud of her father-in-law, the aged Laertes. This she weaves in the day and ravels by night until the trick is discovered. The suitors then wax clamorous; they remain about the house of Odysseus and devour his goods. When the story opens Telemachus resolves to submit, to the waste of his substance no longer, and impelled by Athene he fits out