Stasimon 1
[Episode]
’Tis good! ’Tis wisdom! Prince, give heed
CHORUS.
And change the word thy passion gave.
No soldier loveth, in his need,
The glory of a chief too brave.
A spy is best: a spy, to learn
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For what strange work those beacons burn
All night beside the guarded wave.
HECTOR.
Ye all so wish it?—Well, ye conquer me.
(To AENEAS) Go thou and calm the allies. There will be
Some stir among them, hearing of these high
And midnight councils.—I will seek the spy
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To send to the Greek camp. If there we learn
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Of some plot hatching, on the man’s return
I straight will call thee and share counsels. So.
But wait attentive. If he says they go
Shipward and plan to escape, one trumpet call
Shall warn thee, and I wait no more, but fall
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On camp and hulls, or ever dawn can rise.
AENEAS.
Aye, haste and send him. Now thy plans are wise,
And when need comes I am with thee, sword by sword. [Exit AENEAS.
HECTOR
Ye gathered Trojans, sharers of my word,
Who dares to creep through the Greek lines alone?
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Who will so help his fatherland?
Offer? Must I do everything, one hand
Alone, to save our allies and our land?
DOLON
I, Prince!—I offer for our City’s sake
To go disguised to the Greek ships, to make
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Their counsels mine, and here bring word to thee.
If that be thy full service, I agree.
HECTOR.
Dolon the Wolf! A wise wolf and a true!
Thy father’s house was praised when first I knew
Troy: this shall raise it twofold in our eyes.
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DOLON.
’Tis wise to do good work, but also wise
To pay the worker. Aye, and fair reward
Makes twofold pleasure, though the work be hard.
HECTOR.
So be it: an honest rule. Do thou lay down
What guerdon likes thee best—short of my crown.
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DOLON.
I care not for thy crowned and care-fraught life.
HECTOR.
Wouldst have a daughter of the King to wife?
DOLON.
I seek no mate that might look down on me.
HECTOR.
Good gold is ready, if that tempteth thee.
DOLON.
We live at ease and have no care for gold.
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HECTOR.
Well, Troy hath other treasures manifold.
DOLON.
Pay me not now, but when the Greeks are ta’en.
HECTOR.
The Greeks! . . . Choose any save the Atridae twain.
DOLON.
Kill both, an it please thee. I make prayer for none.
HECTOR.
Thou wilt not ask for Ajax, Ileus’ sonP. 12, 1. 175, Ajax, Ileus’ son.]—Ajax is mentioned here and at 11. 463, 497, 601, as apparently next in importance to the two Atreidae or to Achilles. That is natural, but it is a shock to have him here described as son of Ileus. In the Iliad we should have had Ajax son of Telamon. The son of Ileus is Ajax the less, a hero of the second rank. Scholars have conjectured on other grounds that in some older form of the Iliad-saga Ajax son of Ileus was of much greater importance. The father Telamon and the connection with Aegina are neither of them original in the myth.?
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DOLON.
A princely hand is skilless at the plough.
HECTOR.
’Tis ransom, then? . . . What prisoner cravest thou?
DOLON.
I said before, of gold we have our fill.
HECTOR.
For spoils and armour . . . thou shalt choose at will.
DOLON.
Nail them for trophies on some temple wall.
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HECTOR.
What seeks the man? What prize more rich than all?
DOLON.
Achilles’ horses!P. 12, 1. 182, Achilles’ horses.]—They are as glorious in the Iliad as they are here. Cf. especially the passages where they bear Automedon out of the battle (end of XVI.), and where Xanthos is given a human voice to warn his master of the coming of death (end of XIX.). The heroic age of Greece delighted in horses. Cf. those of Aeneas, Diomedes, Eumêlus, and Rhesus himself. Murmurs of surprise.
Prize. I am dicing for my life with Fate.
HECTOR.
’Fore God, I am thy rival, if thy love
Lies there. Undying was the breed thereof,
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And these shall never die, who bear to war
Great Peleus’ son, swift gleaming like a star.
Poseidon, rider of the wild sea-drift,
Tamed them, men say, and gave them for his gift
To Peleus.—None the less, since I have stirred
Hopes, I will baulk them not. I pledge my word,
Achilles’ steeds, a rare prize, shall be thine.
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DOLON.
I thank thee.—’Tis indeed a prize more fine
Grudge me not that; there be
Guerdons abundant for a Prince like thee.
CHORUS.
O peril strange, O fearful prize!
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Yet win it and thy life hath wings:
A deed of glory in men’s eyes,
A greatness, to be wooed of kings.
If God but hearken to the right,
Thou drinkest to the full this night
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The cup of man’s imaginings.
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DOLON.
There lies the way.—But first I must go find
At home some body-shelter to my mind;
Then, forward to the ships of Argolis!
LEADER.
What other raiment wilt thou need than this?
DOLON.
A garb for work, for night; a thieving guise.
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LEADER.
’Tis good to learn the wisdoms of the wise.
What will thy wrapping be?
DOLON.
A grey wolf’s hide
Shall wrap my body close on either side;
My head shall be the mask of gleaming teeth,
My arms fit in the forepaws, like a sheath,
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My thighs in the hinder parts. No Greek shall tell
’Tis not a wolf that walks, half visible,
On four feet by the trenches and around
The ship-screen. When it comes to empty ground
It stands on two.—That is the plan, my friend!
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LEADER.
Now Maian Hermes guide thee to thy end
And home safe! Well he loves all counterfeit . . .
Good work is there; may good luck go with it!
DOLON
There, and then back! . . . And on this belt shall bleed
Odysseus’ head—or why not Diomede?—
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To prove my truth. Ere dawn can touch the land
I shall be here, and blood upon my hand.
[Choral 1]
Thymbraean, Delian, Birth divine,
CHORUS.
That walkest Lycia’s inmost shrine,
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Come, strong to guard, to guide, to follow,
Come, bow in hand and girt with night,
To help thy Dardans as of old,
When stone by stone thy music rolled—
O conquering Strength, O Sire Apollo!—
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Young Ilion into towers of light.
Grant that he reach the shipyard, creep
Keen-eyed through all that host asleep,
Then back to home and hearth, yet living,
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Where now his father prays alone:
Yea, grant that, when the Greeks are slain,
Our wolf shall mount with scourge and rein
Those coursers of the sea-god’s giving,
Whom Peleus drove in days foregone.
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[Choral 2]
Alone in those Greek ships to stake
CHORUS.
His life, for home and country’s sake:
’Tis wondrous! Few be hearts so true
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When seas across the bulwark break,
And sunlight sickens o’er the crew.
Ah, Phrygia still hath hearts of rock!
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The Phrygian spear flies fast and far!
Where shall ye find the fool to mock
Whom will he stab a-sleeping, whom,
The quick grey wolf, the crawling doom?
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Grant that he slay the Spartan! Nay,
Or Agamemnon’s head and plume
To Helen bear at dawn of day!
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A lightsome dawn to hear her wail
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Her brother sworn, her King who came
To Ilion with his thousand sail,
And swords, and flame! As the song ends DOLON reappears, in the disguise of a wolf. The Guards gather round him, bidding him godspeed as he crawls off in the dark towards the Greek camp. Meantime from the direction of Mount Ida has entered a SHEPHERD who goes to HECTOR’S door and calls. The Guards seeing him return to their places.