The lipiad

Chapter 2 - the supplication of achilleus

Belch, O goddess, to the victory of Peleus' son Achilleus
over his foes, which had bellies filled thousandfold at feasts,
who into the River Lethe cast multitudes of their memories of
war and conquest, but gave their bodies over to decadent
feasting on foods and wines, and the will of Hera was fulfilled
at that time when at last brought together were Ares' daughter
Penthesilea the Queen of Amazones and swift-footed Achilleus.

What goddess was it set them on this gluttonous course?
At the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis, scorned Eris was
not invited among the many gods. So she cast an apple as a
prize of beauty to be contended for by wide-waisted Athene,
wide-armed Hera, and wide-hipped Aphrodite, and clever
Paris of Troy was made judge to choose one of the three.
He was brought atop Mount Ida to state the winner, but
he knew it unwise to name one victor, for to do so would
stir the anger of the other two. He proclaimed the
mountain to be winner, for it was broader than any god.

The three goddesses were filled with fury at Paris's decision,
and they roared at him as loud as their bellies when empty,
and swore to never aid the Trojans were they to go to war
with the Hellenes. But olive pit-spitter Aphrodite was still
full of rage and wished to see retribution brought upon
Paris, so she fabricated a cunning scheme. She told the
son of Priam that the Helen, wife of fair-haired Menelaos,
was the widest of all mortal women and lusted after him.
So he set out across the wine-dark sea for Lacedaemon,
Where he found her waiting in the city of Sparta. He swept
her up, and they fled together to the city of Ilion.

But furious Menelaos would not stand for such treachery,
for he wanted the widest of all Achaian women to be his.
The many rulers sworn to him gathered together, and
together the sent out ships numbering one thousand,
one hundred and thirty-five in number, from the bull-leaping
isle of Krete to distant Ithaka. Among their number were
strong Achilleus son of Peleus, wily Odysseus son of Laërtes,
Aias son of Telemon, Agamemnon son of Atreus, and all
the other great heroes of the Danaäns.

In the tenth year of the war between the Achaians and Ilion,
after the death of Hektor, breaker of horses, at the hands
of Achilleus on the battlefield, and earth covered his bones,
from the Thermodon and its wide-sweeping streams came
the Amazon, daughter of the great-souled Ares, slayer of men.
She was Penthesilea, and she wore the shining bronze armor
of her father. She was accompanied by twelve of her sisters,
Amazones all, who had volunteered to aid her in the defense
of Ilion against the Argives. There was Clonië, Polemousa,
Derinoë, Evandre, and Antandre, and Bremousa, Hippothoë,
dark-eyed Harmothoë, Alcibië, Derimacheia, Antibrote, and
Thermodosa most skilled with her spear.

The Amazones had arrived out of duty to the Trojans
For they had a common foe in two-horsed Aphrodite.
Honest Penthesilea had spoken cruel insults against the
goddess, and she swore upon the name of her father Ares
that they were true. In return, the goddess lay a curse upon
her, that the next man who lay eyes upon her uncovered
form would fall in love with her, and she would be forced to
be his servant and wife. To ward off the curse, Penthesilea
never removed her armor or helm in the presence of men.

The Amazones were unlike any woman of the Achaians, for
their skin was taut, their limbs thin and hard, their bellies did
not swell as they ate, they dined meagerly, they did not
trumpet from their buttocks after a meal, they did not wear
light linen peploi that are good for cooling many rolls and folds,
and they did not tire quickly as they walked.

When word reached the camp of the Achaians, Agamemnon
son of Atreus went to swift-footed Achilleus, and spoke thus:
"Achilleus beloved of Zeus, the army of Priam grows stronger
with forces of bronze-clad women of the East. You, who wears
armor of Hephaestus, are the best of our ranks, and must be
the one who slays them."

The son of Peleus stood and spoke in reply: "No, for they are
daughters of warlike Ares, and I alone cannot challenge them.
Instead, I shall sulk in my tent for another seventeen books."
So Achilleus returned to his tent, and wept over the death of
his companion Patroclus son of Menoetes.

But crafty Odysseus approached him in his tent, and said to him:
"Achilleus of the Nereids, why do you not call upon your mother
Thetis? She holds great sways with the goddesses of Olympus:
thrice-bullish Athene, cow-teated Hera, two-horsed Aphrodite.
Surely she cannot help?"

At this, Achilleus arose and walked to the sea, where he called out:
"O mother, you who bore me to short, wretched life, I call upon
you in need! Women who mock the gods by their mannish forms
threaten the Argives, and I do not have the strength to resist
them! If I have been a loyal son, I beseech your assistance!"

Far beneath the waves, the nymph Thetis heard her son's cries.
She emerged from the sea like a heavy fog, face round and
breasts swaying. Her belly filled her peplos and sagged like a
fisherman's net when he returned to the harbor. As she moved,
her mass wavered and rippled like the sea. She would be large
for a Danaän woman, for her belly was larger than most, but
would be small for a god.

Thetis walked to her son and embraced him, pushing him into
her belly as she pulled, and called him by name and spoke to him:
"My child, I pain to see you worry so. You have been a loyal son,
dutiful in service, and embodying excellence. Your wish shall be
done. I shall go to larder-full Olympus, where the goddesses feast,
and approach the bench of wide-armed Hera, and throw myself at
her swollen feet, and I think I can persuade her."