"I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears;My father held his hand upon his face;
I, blinded by my tears, "Still strove to speak; my voice was thick with sighs, As in a dream. Dimly I could descry The stern black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes, Waiting to see me die.
"The tall masts quivered as they lay afloat, The temples and the people and the shore;One drew a sharp knife through my tender throat Slowly, and nothing more."The wind now proving fair the fleet made sail and brought the forces to the coast of Troy. The Trojans came to oppose their landing, and at the first onset Protesilaus fell by the hand of Hector. Protesilaus had left at home his wife Laodamia, who was most tenderly attached to him. When the news of his death reached her she implored the gods to be allowed to converse with him only three hours. The request was granted. Mercury led Protesilaus back to the upper world, and when he died a second time Laodamia died with him. There was a story that the nymphs panted elm trees round his grave which grew very well till they were high enough to command a view of Troy, and then withered away, while fresh branches sprang from the roots.
Wordsworth has taken the story of Protesilaus and Laodamia for the subject of a poem. It seems the oracle had declared that victory should be the lot of that party from which should fall the first victim to the war. The poet represents Protesilaus, on his brief return to earth, as relating to Laodamia the story of his fate:
"The wished-for wind was given; I then revolved The oracle, upon the silent sea;And if no worthier led the way, resolved That of a thousand vessels mine should be The foremost prow impressing to the strand, Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.
"Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter was the pang When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife!
On thee too fondly did my memory hang, And on the joys we shared in mortal life, The paths which we had trod, these fountains, flowers;My new planned cities and unfinished towers.
"But should suspense permit the foe to cry, 'Behold they tremble! Haughty their array, Yet of their number no one dares to die!'"In soul I swept the indignity away;
Old frailties then recurred; but lofty thought In act embodied my deliverance wrought.
. . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .
Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)A knot of spiry trees for ages grew >From out the tomb of him for whom she died;And ever when such stature they had gained That Ilium's walls were subject to their view, The trees' tall summits withered at the sight, A constant interchange of growth and blight!"THE ILIAD
The war continued without decisive results for nine years. Then an event occurred which seemed likely to be fatal to the cause of the Greeks, and that was a quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon. It is at this point that the great poem of Homer, the Iliad, begins. The Greeks, though unsuccessful against Troy, had taken the neighboring and allied cities, and in the division of the spoil a female captive, by name Chryseis, daughter of Chryses, priest of Apollo, had fallen to the share of Agamemnon.
Chryses came bearing the sacred emblems of his office, and begged the release of his daughter. Agamemnon refused. Thereupon Chryses implored Apollo to afflict the Greeks till they should be forced to yield their prey. Apollo granted the prayer of his priest, and sent pestilence into the Grecian camp. Then a council was called to deliberate how to allay the wrath of the gods and avert the plague. Achilles boldly charged their misfortunes upon Agamemnon as caused by his withholding Chryseis.
Agamemnon enraged, consented to relinquish his captive, but demanded that Achilles should yield to him in her stead Briseis, a maiden who had fallen to Achilles' share in the division of the spoil. Achilles submitted, but forthwith declared that he would take no further part in the war. He withdrew his forces from the general camp and openly avowed his intention of returning home to Greece.
The gods and goddesses interested themselves as much in this famous war as the parties themselves. It was well known to them that fate had decreed that Troy should fall, at last, if her enemies should persevere and not voluntarily abandon the enterprise. Yet there was room enough left for chance to excite by turns the hopes and fears of the powers above who took part with either side. Juno and Minerva, in consequence of the slight put upon their charms by Paris, were hostile to the Trojans;Venus for the opposite cause favored them. Venus enlisted her admirer Mars on the same side, but Neptune favored the Greeks.
Apollo was neutral, sometimes taking one side, sometimes the other, and Jove himself, though he loved the good King Priam, yet exercised a degree of impartiality; not however without exceptions.
Thetis, the mother of Achilles, warmly resented the injury done to her son. She repaired immediately to Jove's palace, and besought him to make the Greeks repent of their injustice to Achilles by granting success to the Trojan arms. Jupiter consented; and in the battle which ensued the Trojans were completely successful. The Greeks were driven from the field, and took refuge in their ships. Then Agamemnon called a council of his wisest and bravest chiefs. Nestor advised that an embassy should be sent to Achilles to persuade him to return to the field; that Agamemnon should yield the maiden, the cause of the dispute, with ample gifts to atone for the wrong he had done.
Agamemnon consented, and Ulysses, Ajax, and Phoenix were sent to carry to Achilles the penitent message. They performed that duty, but Achilles was deaf to their entreaties. He positively refused to return to the field, and persisted in his resolution to embark for Greece without delay. The Greeks had constructed a rampart around their ships, and now, instead of besieging Troy, they were in a manner besieged themselves within their rampart.
