For these excerpts I’m quoting from Caroline Alexander’s translation. She’s captured the original with language as beautiful and direct as Homer’s Greek. I hope these lines of epic poetry offer you the fellowship of ancient company in a bad situation.
I have clipped throughout to shorten this excerpt and not maintained poetic lines. If this sparks your interest, I recommend reading Caroline Alexander’s translation in its full glory.
Excerpts:
Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus’ son Achilles, that inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans, …sing from when they two first stood in conflict—Atreus’ son, lord of men, and godlike Achilles.
Which of the gods, then, set these two together in conflict, to fight? Apollo, son of Leto and Zeus; who in his rage at the king raised a virulent plague through the army; the men were dying because the son of Atreus dishonored the priest Chryses. For he came to the Achaeans’ swift ships bearing countless gifts to ransom his daughter, holding in his hands on a golden staff the wreaths of Apollo who strikes from afar, and beseeched all the Achaeans—but mostly the two sons of Atreus, marshalers of men….
…the Achaeans all shouted assent, to respect the priest and accept the splendid ransom; but this did not please the heart of Atreus’ son Agememnon, and violently he sent him away
… the old man fervently prayed to lord Apollo, whom lovely-haired Leto bore: “Hear me, God of the silver bow…God of Plague; …if ever I burned as sacrifice to you the fatty thighbones of bulls and of goats—grant me this wish: May the Danaans pay for my tears with your arrows.”
Thus he prayed, and Phoebus Apollo heard him, and set out from the heights of Olympus, rage in his heart, with his bow on his shoulders…and he came like the night. Then far from the ships he crouched, and let loose an arrow—and terrible was the ring of his silver bow. First he went after the mules and sleek dogs, but then, letting fly a sharp arrow, he struck at the men themselves, and the crowded pyres of the dead burned without ceasing
….Achilles summoned the people to assembly; the goddess of the white arms, Hera, put this in his mind, for she was distressed for the Danaans, since she saw them dying
….Achilles of the swift feet stood and addressed them: …let us ask some seer, or priest…who may tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so greatly angered
…Calchas the son of Threstor, far the most eminent of bird-seers, who knew things that are, and things to come, and what had gone before…He in his wisdom spoke and addressed them:
“O Achilles, dear to Zeus, you bid me state the reason for the wrath of Apollo, the lord who strikes from afar. Then I will speak, but you listen closely and swear an oath to me that in good earnest you will stand by me in word and strength of hand; for I well know that I will anger a man who has great power over the Argives, and whom the Achaeans obey.”
…Then answering him Achilles of the swift feet spoke: “Take courage, and speak freely of any omen you know…no man while I live and see light upon this earth will lay heavy hands upon you by the hollow ships—none of all the Danaans, not even if you speak of Agamemnon, who now makes claim to be far the best man in the army.”
And then the blameless priest took courage and spoke: “It is…for the sake of his priest, whom Agamemnon dishonored, and did not release his daughter…for that reason the god who shoots from afar has sent these sufferings, and will send more; nor will he drive this foul plague away from the Danaans until we give back the dark-eyed girl to her dear father without price, without ransom, and lead a holy sacrifice to Chryse; propitiating him in this way we might persuade him.”
…then rose among them…wide-ruling Agamemnon, greatly distressed, his darkening heart consumed with rage, his eyes like gleaming fires. Glaring, he first addressed Calchas: “Prophet of evil, never yet have you spoken anything good for me, always to prophesy evil is dear to your heart….for this reason, you say, the Archer who shoots from afar causes their affliction—because I was not willing to accept his splendid ransom for the girl Chryseïs, since I greatly desire to have her at home; for I prefer her to Clytemnestra, my wedded wife, as she is not inferior to her, not in figure or bearing, nor even in disposition or handiwork. Yet, even so, I am willing to give her back—if this is for the best. I wish my men to be safe rather than perish. But make ready another prize at once, so that I alone of the Achaeans am not unrecompensed, since that is not fitting. For all of you are witness that my own prize goes elsewhere.”
Then answered him swift-footed, godlike Achilles: “Most honored son of Atreus, of all men most covetous of possessions, how then can the great-hearted Achaeans give you a prize? We do not know of any great common store laid up anywhere…
…Then…spoke powerful Agamemnon:
…Or do you intend—while you yourself have a prize—that I just sit here without one—are you ordering me to give the girl back? No, either the great-hearted Achaeans will give me a prize suited to my wishes, of equal value—or if they do not give one, then I myself will go and take either your own prize, or that of Ajax, or I will take and carry away the prize of Odysseus; and whomever I visit will be made angry…
…fetching Chryseïs of the lovely cheeks put her on board; and resourceful Odysseus came on as leader.
Then, embarked they sailed upon the watery way, and the son of Atreus charged the men to purify themselves. They cleansed themselves and cast the impurities into the sea, and to Apollo they made perfect sacrificial hecatombs of bulls and goats along the shore of the murmuring sea; and the savor rose to heaven amid a swirl of smoke.
So they attended to these tasks throughout the army; but Agamemnon did not leave off the quarrel, in which he first threatened Achilles…