a rock, an even bigger one, swung itin the air, and threw it with a terrible strength. Hector’s shield broke apart and he fell, but right away he got up again, and they grabbed their swords and went for one another, yelling …
And the sun set.
Then two heralds, one Achaean, one Trojan, came forward to separate the two, because even in battle it’s good to be obedient to the night. Ajax didn’t want to stop. “It’s Hector who must decide, he made the challenge.” And Hector decided. “Let’s interrupt the fight for today,” he said. “You are strong, Ajax, and your spear is the best among all those of the Achaeans. You will make your friends and companions happy by returning alive to your tent tonight. And the men and women of Troy will rejoice, seeing me return, alive, to Priam’s great city. And now let’s exchange precious gifts, so that all may say: They fought fiercely, but they parted in harmony and peace.” So he spoke. And he gave Ajax his silver-studded sword, with its well-made sheathe and strap. And Ajax gave him his war belt of shining purple.
That night, at the banquet where we celebrated Ajax, I let them all drink and eat, and then, when I saw that they were tired, I asked the princes to listen to me. I was the oldest, and they respected my wisdom. So I said that we should ask the Trojans for a day of truce, so that we and they could gather up our dead from the battlefield. And I said that we must take advantage of that day to build a wall around the ships, a high wall, and a broad trench, to protect ourselves from an assault by the Trojans.
“A wall? What need do we have for walls—we have shields,” said Diomedes. “I knock down walls, I don’t build them,” he said. No one liked the idea. There were even some who said, “Think how Achilles will boast when he discoversthat without him we are so afraid that we shut ourselves behind a wall.” They laughed. But the truth is that they were young, and the young have an old idea of war. Honor, beauty, heroism. Like the fight between Hector and Ajax: two princes who first try savagely to kill each other and then exchange gifts. I was too old to believe in those things still. We won that war by means of a huge wooden horse, filled with soldiers. We won by a trick, not by an open, fair, honorable fight. And this they, the young men, never liked. But I was old. Odysseus was old. We knew that the long war we were fighting was old, and that it would be won in a day by those who were able to fight it in a new way.
That night we went to sleep without making a decision, and when we woke we received a delegation from the Trojans. Idaeus came to us and said that since the Trojans had taken up the fight again, after the encounter between Paris and Menelaus, and had broken the sacred pact, they were now willing to give us our due by returning all the treasures that Paris had carried off with Helen of Argos. Not the woman but the treasures, yes. And he said that to those they would add splendid gifts, to compensate us for the treachery. They were afraid that the gods would not forgive their perfidy, you see?
Diomedes rose and said, “Not even if they gave us back Helen in flesh and blood would we stop, my friends. Even a fool could understand that the end of Troy is near.” And we all applauded; at that moment we felt that he was right. So Agamemnon answered Idaeus that we rejected the offer. And then he agreed to a truce of one day, so that we and the Trojans could gather our dead and consign them to the flames in accordance with custom. And so it was.
A strange day of war. On the great plain, beneath the sun that lighted up the land, went Achaeans and Trojans, mingledtogether, looking for their own dead. They leaned over the fouled bodies, with water washed away the blood in order to identify the faces, and then, weeping, loaded them onto carts. Silently, with grieving hearts, they heaped the bodies on the pyres, and stood there watching as the
And the sun set.
Then two heralds, one Achaean, one Trojan, came forward to separate the two, because even in battle it’s good to be obedient to the night. Ajax didn’t want to stop. “It’s Hector who must decide, he made the challenge.” And Hector decided. “Let’s interrupt the fight for today,” he said. “You are strong, Ajax, and your spear is the best among all those of the Achaeans. You will make your friends and companions happy by returning alive to your tent tonight. And the men and women of Troy will rejoice, seeing me return, alive, to Priam’s great city. And now let’s exchange precious gifts, so that all may say: They fought fiercely, but they parted in harmony and peace.” So he spoke. And he gave Ajax his silver-studded sword, with its well-made sheathe and strap. And Ajax gave him his war belt of shining purple.
That night, at the banquet where we celebrated Ajax, I let them all drink and eat, and then, when I saw that they were tired, I asked the princes to listen to me. I was the oldest, and they respected my wisdom. So I said that we should ask the Trojans for a day of truce, so that we and they could gather up our dead from the battlefield. And I said that we must take advantage of that day to build a wall around the ships, a high wall, and a broad trench, to protect ourselves from an assault by the Trojans.
“A wall? What need do we have for walls—we have shields,” said Diomedes. “I knock down walls, I don’t build them,” he said. No one liked the idea. There were even some who said, “Think how Achilles will boast when he discoversthat without him we are so afraid that we shut ourselves behind a wall.” They laughed. But the truth is that they were young, and the young have an old idea of war. Honor, beauty, heroism. Like the fight between Hector and Ajax: two princes who first try savagely to kill each other and then exchange gifts. I was too old to believe in those things still. We won that war by means of a huge wooden horse, filled with soldiers. We won by a trick, not by an open, fair, honorable fight. And this they, the young men, never liked. But I was old. Odysseus was old. We knew that the long war we were fighting was old, and that it would be won in a day by those who were able to fight it in a new way.
That night we went to sleep without making a decision, and when we woke we received a delegation from the Trojans. Idaeus came to us and said that since the Trojans had taken up the fight again, after the encounter between Paris and Menelaus, and had broken the sacred pact, they were now willing to give us our due by returning all the treasures that Paris had carried off with Helen of Argos. Not the woman but the treasures, yes. And he said that to those they would add splendid gifts, to compensate us for the treachery. They were afraid that the gods would not forgive their perfidy, you see?
Diomedes rose and said, “Not even if they gave us back Helen in flesh and blood would we stop, my friends. Even a fool could understand that the end of Troy is near.” And we all applauded; at that moment we felt that he was right. So Agamemnon answered Idaeus that we rejected the offer. And then he agreed to a truce of one day, so that we and the Trojans could gather our dead and consign them to the flames in accordance with custom. And so it was.
A strange day of war. On the great plain, beneath the sun that lighted up the land, went Achaeans and Trojans, mingledtogether, looking for their own dead. They leaned over the fouled bodies, with water washed away the blood in order to identify the faces, and then, weeping, loaded them onto carts. Silently, with grieving hearts, they heaped the bodies on the pyres, and stood there watching as the
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