The Illiad, I.
Now had the time pass'd on; and the twelfth fair morn was advancing,
When to Olympus again, did the Gods, who endure unto all time,
Come, with Zeus at their head;—all the Gods. Nor was Thetis forgetful
Of the request of her son; but she sprang from the wave of the ocean;
Rose, as the mist of the morn, to the sky and the top of Olympus.
Cronĭdes there did she find,—all apart from the rest of the great Gods,—
E'en on the loftiest peak of the deep-cloven crest of Olympus.
Lowly the Goddess knelt; and his knees clasp'd tight with her left hand,
Laying her right on the beard and the awful chin of the monarch[1]
E'en of the mighty Cronïon:—and suppliant, thus she address'd him.500
"O Father Zeus, if ever, in strife with the Gods, has availed thee,
Act or word of mine, for once grant this my petition!
Honor award to my son!— upon whom comes, soonest of all men,
Fate premature:—upon him has the King of men, Agamemnon,
Foul dishonor imposed,—has seized his prize and retains her.
Only do thou, O Zeus, O Olympian, grant to him honor!
Victory grant unto Troy,—until all of the sons of Achaia
Honor my son as of old:—ay, more, and advance him in honor!"
Thus did the Goddess speak:—but the cloud-compeller replied not.
Long did he silent sit:—but Thetis again in entreaty510
Clung, as if grown, to the knees of the God—and again she assail'd him.
"Give me thy promise, Zeus!—and thy nod too, add, to confirm it!
Or say no!—as thou pleasest—for fear cannot cause a refusal—
So shall I understand and be fully persuaded, that no one
Less is esteem'd than myself, amid all of the race of Immortals."
Grieved in his heart, at last, spake the cloud-compeller in answer.
"Hard is, indeed, the task:— and thy prayer brings quarrels with Hère;
Hère, wont as of old to revile me with bitter invective.
19
- ↑ The ancient form of supplication.
