Nestor Harangues the Troops (2.333-68)

ὣς ἔφατ', Ἀργεῖοι δὲ μέγ' ἴαχον, ἀμφὶ δὲ νῆες
σμερδαλέον κονάβησαν ἀϋσάντων ὑπ' Ἀχαιῶν,
μῦθον ἐπαινήσαντες Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο: [335]
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ:
ὦ πόποι ἦ δὴ παισὶν ἐοικότες ἀγοράασθε
νηπιάχοις οἷς οὔ τι μέλει πολεμήïα ἔργα.
πῇ δὴ συνθεσίαι τε καὶ ὅρκια βήσεται ἥμιν;
ἐν πυρὶ δὴ βουλαί τε γενοίατο μήδεά τ' ἀνδρῶν [340]
σπονδαί τ' ἄκρητοι καὶ δεξιαί, ᾗς ἐπέπιθμεν:
αὔτως γὰρ ἐπέεσσ' ἐριδαίνομεν, οὐδέ τι μῆχος
εὑρέμεναι δυνάμεσθα, πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδ' ἐόντες.
Ἀτρεΐδη σὺ δ' ἔθ' ὡς πρὶν ἔχων ἀστεμφέα βουλὴν
ἄρχευ' Ἀργείοισι κατὰ κρατερὰς ὑσμίνας, [345]
τούσδε δ' ἔα φθινύθειν ἕνα καὶ δύο, τοί κεν Ἀχαιῶν
νόσφιν βουλεύωσ': ἄνυσις δ' οὐκ ἔσσεται αὐτῶν:
πρὶν Ἄργος δ' ἰέναι πρὶν καὶ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο
γνώμεναι εἴ τε ψεῦδος ὑπόσχεσις εἴ τε καὶ οὐκί.
φημὶ γὰρ οὖν κατανεῦσαι ὑπερμενέα Κρονίωνα [350]
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε νηυσὶν ἐν ὠκυπόροισιν ἔβαινον
Ἀργεῖοι Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες
ἀστράπτων ἐπιδέξι' ἐναίσιμα σήματα φαίνων.
τὼ μή τις πρὶν ἐπειγέσθω οἶκον δὲ νέεσθαι
πρίν τινα πὰρ Τρώων ἀλόχῳ κατακοιμηθῆναι, [355]
τίσασθαι δ' Ἑλένης ὁρμήματά τε στοναχάς τε.
εἰ δέ τις ἐκπάγλως ἐθέλει οἶκον δὲ νέεσθαι
ἁπτέσθω ἧς νηὸς ἐϋσσέλμοιο μελαίνης,
ὄφρα πρόσθ' ἄλλων θάνατον καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.
ἀλλὰ ἄναξ αὐτός τ' εὖ μήδεο πείθεό τ' ἄλλῳ: [360]
οὔ τοι ἀπόβλητον ἔπος ἔσσεται ὅττί κεν εἴπω:
κρῖν' ἄνδρας κατὰ φῦλα κατὰ φρήτρας Ἀγάμεμνον,
ὡς φρήτρη φρήτρηφιν ἀρήγῃ, φῦλα δὲ φύλοις.
εἰ δέ κεν ὣς ἕρξῃς καί τοι πείθωνται Ἀχαιοί,
γνώσῃ ἔπειθ' ὅς θ' ἡγεμόνων κακὸς ὅς τέ νυ λαῶν [365]
ἠδ' ὅς κ' ἐσθλὸς ἔῃσι: κατὰ σφέας γὰρ μαχέονται.
γνώσεαι δ' εἰ καὶ θεσπεσίῃ πόλιν οὐκ ἀλαπάξεις,
ἦ ἀνδρῶν κακότητι καὶ ἀφραδίῃ πολέμοιο.

Translation
At that, the Argives loosed a mighty shout
that made the fleet resound with awesome noise
as they roared out in praise of what he’d said.
And then the horseman Nestor spoke to them:

For shame! You congregate like foolish boys
to whom the works of war are no concern.
Now what’s to come of all our pacts and oaths?
Thus let men’s plans and counsels go to flames—
the solemn, pure libations too,
the handshakes that we trust as well.
For we but wrangle on with words
and find no remedy at all,
despite the length of time that we’ve been here.
Lord Agamemnon, now—just as before—
you must hold to a steadfast strategy
and lead the Argives through the press of war.
But let the rest be damned—the one or two
who make their fruitless plans apart from us—
for they would head for home, before they know
if Zeus has promised true or false.
I say in fact that lofty-minded Zeus
nodded his assent that day on which
we Argives launched our rapid ships,
bearing death and bloodshed here to Troy:
he hurled a bolt of lightning to our right,
thus showing us a fateful prodigy.
Therefore, let no one clamor to return
until each man beds down some Trojan’s wife
and pays back all the struggles and the pains
that we have suffered here for Helen’s sake.
But if someone should have a violent wish
to head for home, let’s seize his swift black ship
so he’ll be first to face his death and doom.
But you, Wanax, must plan with care
and take advice from others too—
advice of mine is not to be ignored:
arrange the men by phratry and by tribe,
so phratry bolsters phratry and tribe, tribe.
If the Achaeans will obey you thus,
you’ll know which leaders and which troops
are cowardly and which are brave,
for they’ll be fighting in their proper groups.
And if we fail to capture Troy, you’ll know
if it’s by cause of a divine decree
or cowardice and ignorance of war.

Comments
The more difficult lines in this speech are 340, 346, 347-49, and 360. Line 340 raises the question of colloquialisms and their anachronistic quality. I’ve translated it as “Thus let men’s plans and counsels go to flames,” which is quite literal. The issue is the phrase “go to flames” which is exactly literal, but which is kind of an unusual expression; we would naturally say “go to hell,” and I was very tempted to use this expression because it better captures the force of Nestor’s declaration. But I wanted to avoid the Christian framework altogether, even if the argument could be made that “hell” in this expression is now so vague that it doesn’t really imply such a framework. By contrast, I do use “damn” without worrying about this, as I did in line 346 to translate τούσδε δ' ἔα φθινύθειν (“but let the rest be damned”).

Lines 346-49 present another difficulty: there the Greek itself is a bit obscure. I ended up just simplifying it and making sense out of it in English rather than find an equally obscure expression in English. That is, Nestor really is speaking in a confused sort of syntax in these lines, so there was the option of finding an equally confused expression in English. However I decided to intervene and make sense out of it:
But let the rest be damned—the one or two
who make their fruitless plans apart from us—
for they would head for home, before they know
if Zeus has promised true or false.

Line 360 isn’t particularly difficult, but it raises a question that I’ve had on the back burner for some time now: how to translate words for which we have no good English equivalent, in particular, words that refer to some concept or social institution that no longer exists. The wanax is a Mycenaean ruler / leader / king. But he is not a “king” in the more absolute way that the English kings were kings, and this is our closest cultural referent. So I’m starting to think that in this case and in others like it perhaps the best thing to do would be to resist translation and instead give the term itself. I mean, these are terms that I want my students (or any readers) to understand anyway. That is, I give my students a list of basic words in Greek to learn when we read the Iliad so that we can be more accurate in our discussions, words like kleos, timē, xenia, and so forth. Is it too much to expect of someone who wants to read the Iliad that he or she take the time to learn a few ancient Greek words? I feel the reader’s experience is greatly enriched by making such an effort. But I’m still up in the air about whether or not to leave words untranslated.

Final note: I’ve just finished reading H. A. Mason’s book To Homer through Pope, and I enjoyed it thoroughly, especially his magisterial tone and his total confidence in his aesthetic sense. There is much in this book to disagree with, but it’s all excellent food for thought and indispensable for anyone thinking about translating Homer. I’ll allow myself just one quotation from it for the time being: “in his concern to be nobly simple Pope confined his style to a kind of stately majesty which acted like stilts and prevented him from touching the ground of common humanity” (174).