[In this land flung so far from home they haven't other duties to which to attend: the afternoon can pass in rumination.]
I will tell you what I think. Nine years my spear raged on behalf of the sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus - nine years of battle unceasing, of days and nights both soaked in blood and the groans of men. Many fine prizes I won by my spear: talents of gold, cauldrons and bronze tripods, racing horses and herds of cattle, and fine-girdled women of weaving talent. All these have been left by the hollow ships, to be divided among the well-greaved Achaeans. As meat that is portioned out for roasting upon spits, that all who gather may receive equal share, so too will be the fate of my many treasures.
The prizes I pried from the bloody jaws of war, I would bring to wide-ruling Agamemnon to divide thus, and always he would keep the best for himself and distribute the rest to other worthy warriors. It is honorable for a man to be generous with what he has and to seek not only reward for himself, but seek also to strengthen the bonds between himself and his allies. Therefore I had no complaint, though it was my spear that took on the brunt of the work.
Not until the son of Atreus disgraced me so thoroughly did I raise complaint: for just as it is honorable for a king to distribute the treasures he is brought, it is cowardly and vile for him to revoke the prizes he has awarded thus. So it was with Agamemnon and I. Because he was forced by Phoebus Apollo to yield his own prize, he took mine as recompense - the girl he took from my bed, though I won her by my spear, I loved as any man loves his wife. So great was my rage for this slight against my honor, I withdrew my men from the fighting and in my hut beside the beaked ships, I set down my spear.
So too shall it be with the sons of Alastair. Thus far I've toiled that the Nalawi race can be at peace, for they are our hosts - and just as Zeus demands for hosts to welcome guests with proper hospitality, guests too must obey the code of treating well their hosts. The sons of Alastair, however-- These madmen I abominate, I care not a splinter for them. They cannot give prizes of great enough worth to spur me to take up arms on their behalf. I know the value of my life - it is not meet that I live like a migrant, stripped of my rights as well as my treasures.
[So he speaks, and his words become as the forked lightning thrown by Zeus who delights in thunder, his brow as the clouds that bow low and swollen when a storm breaks out. The son of Peleus takes up the washcloth he was given, and he sets to drawing warm water over his chest: work with which to occupy his hands while his heart is agitated.]
i hope ancient politics get you moist
[In this land flung so far from home they haven't other duties to which to attend: the afternoon can pass in rumination.]
I will tell you what I think. Nine years my spear raged on behalf of the sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus - nine years of battle unceasing, of days and nights both soaked in blood and the groans of men. Many fine prizes I won by my spear: talents of gold, cauldrons and bronze tripods, racing horses and herds of cattle, and fine-girdled women of weaving talent. All these have been left by the hollow ships, to be divided among the well-greaved Achaeans. As meat that is portioned out for roasting upon spits, that all who gather may receive equal share, so too will be the fate of my many treasures.
The prizes I pried from the bloody jaws of war, I would bring to wide-ruling Agamemnon to divide thus, and always he would keep the best for himself and distribute the rest to other worthy warriors. It is honorable for a man to be generous with what he has and to seek not only reward for himself, but seek also to strengthen the bonds between himself and his allies. Therefore I had no complaint, though it was my spear that took on the brunt of the work.
Not until the son of Atreus disgraced me so thoroughly did I raise complaint: for just as it is honorable for a king to distribute the treasures he is brought, it is cowardly and vile for him to revoke the prizes he has awarded thus. So it was with Agamemnon and I. Because he was forced by Phoebus Apollo to yield his own prize, he took mine as recompense - the girl he took from my bed, though I won her by my spear, I loved as any man loves his wife. So great was my rage for this slight against my honor, I withdrew my men from the fighting and in my hut beside the beaked ships, I set down my spear.
So too shall it be with the sons of Alastair. Thus far I've toiled that the Nalawi race can be at peace, for they are our hosts - and just as Zeus demands for hosts to welcome guests with proper hospitality, guests too must obey the code of treating well their hosts. The sons of Alastair, however-- These madmen I abominate, I care not a splinter for them. They cannot give prizes of great enough worth to spur me to take up arms on their behalf. I know the value of my life - it is not meet that I live like a migrant, stripped of my rights as well as my treasures.
[So he speaks, and his words become as the forked lightning thrown by Zeus who delights in thunder, his brow as the clouds that bow low and swollen when a storm breaks out. The son of Peleus takes up the washcloth he was given, and he sets to drawing warm water over his chest: work with which to occupy his hands while his heart is agitated.]