Liv reads Book 4 and part of 5 of the Fall of Troy, translated by AS Way. After the death of Achilles, the Greeks honour him with funeral games held by Thetis. Help keep LTAMB going by subscribing to Liv's Patreon for bonus content!
This is not a standard narrative story episode, it's a reading of an ancient source, audiobook style. For regular episodes look for any that don't have "Liv Reads..." in the title! For a list of Roman/Latin names and who they were in the Greek, visit: mythsbaby.com/names
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M m m hi, Hello, welcome, This is Let's talk about myths baby, and I am your host live and something about recording this. I feel like it's the first time that I've done it, and I'm I'm back. I'm I'm hoping that my current ability to be back lasts because it's been a time. It's been a time, But I am here today with another reading with returning to the Fall of Troy. On Tuesday, we're going to start Euripides' play, one of them. I'm not giving it away just yet. Oh I'm so excited. But today today we're back with this reading episode. It's been a little bit since we visited the Fall of Troy, what with the Bronze Age haven't taken up all of our time, and so we're back. This is the work from the Roman period, written by a Greek. Actually, I forget if I already corrected this. At some point I said it was written by a Roman or in Latin, and that's just straight wrong. So it just from the Roman period, and the guy's name sounds really Roman, so he threw me. In any case, he was written in Greek, but it is from this Roman period, so it is so much later. Than Homer, and yet it is the only surviving source that we have for basically everything in the Trojan War outside of what happens in the Iliad. So we're talking Achilles is death and the Trojan, the horse, and literally everything that happens after Hector dies. And so where we last left off in this reading, Achilles had died. Finally, Sorry that was mean to Achilles, but he had. And so we are returning to the story now while Troy mourns their own dead. But we're about to get to the very detailed funeral games for Achilles. A couple quick reminders because of how this translation works, it is little well, it's very old and stuffy. I'm making changes in the moment as much as i can to make it clearer, but I am not a magician, And so we have things like Achilles being regularly called Polides. This is referring to him being the son of Pelias, but it becomes confusing. So anyway, Polides is Achilles, and the son of Tydeus is Diomedes. Sometimes he's called Tidiedes just to really just to just to really throw us all in any case, the son of Tideas, that's Diomedes, there are to Ajax's I'm giving you all a break, and I'm not pronouncing it as which is what it is in this translation and more original Greek. We're going with Ajax, And just a reminder, there are two, the great and the Lesser. They're not always clarified. We're just gonna We're just gonna figure it all out as we go. But and this is just if you care to know while I am reading this, But if someone is referred to as the son of Oulius, that's Ajax the lesser, the son of Telemon. Is Ajax the greater or the great? It's all worth it in the end. This is just such a fascinating text. It really you know, it is both attempting and I think succeeding to evoke the Homeric epics. But then it is also so different in that it was you know, intentionally written rather than you know, being part of this oral tradition. So it's really interesting to think about, you know, what that means, and like why certain things are included, or like the similes, like there are still some wild similes which obviously don't serve the same function that they did in the oral storytelling. You know the purpose of those tended to be like remembering things because you were reciting it, or you know, reminding people of something else for the same reasons. All of that just really just really interesting. And now I'm kind of rambling about it being interesting. But the point is we are returning to this, and we will be returning to reading this Fall of Troy for the next few fridays, just because I overloaded with conversations and frankly haven't had the time or mental capacity to record enough. So we're doing this reading because also it's incredibly fun and we might as well not lose our spot so easily and forget everything that's happened before. So we're gonna be doing three books of this over the next three fridays. As we get deeper into this work, too, the books are becoming a little too short for these episodes. I always make sure that at least as I record them. Now the Friday episodes are over an hour because I am required to put two ads in them, so I'm sorry for that, and also that's why so in any case, this episode is going to be all of book four and then part of book five, just so that we're nice long enough, and we'll keep that up, because I really I promise, I try really hard not to overwhelm you with ads. I am beholden to needing to make money off of this thing that I've devoted my life to, and also what the company requires me to do in order to pay me that money. This is the Fall of Troy by Quintus Marnius, Book four and part of book five, translated by A. S. Way. Nor did the hapless Trojans leave unwept The warrior king Hippolochus's hero son but laid in front of the Dardanian gate, upon the pyre that captain wore renowned, but him Apollo's self caught up swiftly out of the blazing fire, and to the winds gave him to bear away to Lycia, and fast and far They bore him beneath the glens of high Tolandras to a lovely glade, and for a monument above his grave, upheaved a granite rock. The nymphs therefrom made gush the hallowed water of a stream forever flowing, which the tribes of men still call fair fleeting Glaucus. This is the gods wrought for an honor to the lycean king. But for Achilles, still the Argives mourned beside the swift ships. Heart sick were they all that, with dolorous pain and grief, each yearned for him, as for a son. No eye in that wide host was tearless. But the Trojans with great joy exulted seeing their sorrow from Afar, and the great fire that spoke their foe consumed. And thus a vaunting voice amidst them cried, now has Cronion from his heaven vouchsafed a joy past hope, unto our longing eyes to see Achilles fallen before Troy. Now he is smitten. The glorious hosts of Troy, I say, shall win a breathing space from blood of death and from the murderous fray. Ever his heart devised, the Trojan's bane in his hands maddened. I the spear of doom with gore besprent, and none of us that faced him in the fight beheld another dawn. But now I WoT Achaia's valorous sons shall flee unto their galleys, shapely proud, since slain Achilles lies, and that the might of Hector still were here, that he might slay the argives one and all amidst their tents. So in unbridled joy, a trojan cried, But one more wise and prudent answered him. You deem that the murderous Danian host will straightway go to their ships to flee over the misty sea. No, still their lust is hot for fight us, will they know wise? Fear? Still are their left strong, battle eager men as ajax as tideities Atreus's sons, though dead, Achilles, be I still fear these, Oh that Apollo silver bow would end them. Then in that day were given to our prayers a breathing space from war and ghastly death. In heaven was among the immortal ones, even all that helped the stalwart Danian's cause. In clouds like mountains piled, they veiled their heads for grief of soul. But glad those others were, who fain would speed Troy to a happy goal. Then unto Cronus's son great Hair, spoke Zeus, lightning father, wherefore help you to Troy. All forgetful of the fair haired bride, whom once Pelias you did give to wife. Amidst Pelion's glens you did bring to pass those spousals of a goddess. On that day, all we immortals feasted there and gave gifts passing fair. All this do you forget? And have you devised for hellas heaviest woe, So spoke she, but Zeus answered not a word for pondering. There he sat with burdened breast, thinking how soon the Argives should destroy the city of Priam, thinking how himself would visit on the victor's ruined in war and on the great sea. Thunder voiced such thoughts were his long to be fulfilled. Now sank the sun to ocean's fathomless flood over the dim land. The infinite darkness stole wherein men gain a little rest from toil ben by the ships, despite their sorrow supped the Argives. For you can't thrust aside hunger's importunate craving when it comes upon the breast, but straightway heavy and faint lithe limbs become, nor is their remedy until one satisfies this clamorous guest. Therefore, these eight the meat of even tide and grief. For Achilles, hard necessity constrained them all, and when they had broken bread, sweet sleep came on them, loosening from their frames, cares heavy chain and quickening strength anew. But when the starry bears had eastward, turned their heads expectant of the uprushing light of Helios, and when woke the Queen of Dawn then rose from sleep the stalwart argive men, proposing for the Trojan's death and doom stirred? Were they like the roughly ridging sea akarian, or as sudden rippling corn in a harvest field. What time the rushing wings of the cloud gathering west sweep over it? So upon Hellespon's strand, the folk were stirred. And to those eager hearts, cried Tydeus's son. If we be battle Bider's friends, indeed more fiercely fight we now the hated foe, lest they take heart because Achilles lives no longer. Come with armor, car and steed. Let us beset them. Glory waits our toil. But battle eager ajax answering spoke, Brave are your words, and no wise idle talk, kindling the dauntless argive men, whose hearts before were battle eager, to the fight against the Trojan men. Oh ti Ideas's son, But we must needs abide amidst the ships till Goddess Thedus comes forth of the sea, for that her heart is proposed to set here fair athlete prizes for the funeral games. This yesterday she told me, before she plunged into sea depths. Yes, spoke to me apart from other Danians. And I say by this her haste has brought her nigh. Those trojan men, though Pelias's son has died, shall have small heart for battle, while myself am yet alive. And you, noble Atreus's son the king, So spoke the mighty son of Telamon, but knew not that a dark and bitter doom for him should follow hard upon those games, by fate's contrivance, answered Tydeus's son, Oh, friend, If Thedus comes indeed to this day with goodly gifts for her son's funeral games, then bide we buy the ships and keep we here all others meat. It is to do the will of the immortals, Yes to Achilles. Two, though the immortals willed it not, ourselves must render honor grateful to the dead. So spoke the battle eager Tideus's son, and lo, the bride of Pelias gliding forth of the sea like the still breath of dawn, and suddenly was with argive throng where eager faced they waited, some that looked soon to contend in that great athlete strife, and some to joy in seeing the mighty strive. Amidst that gathering, Thedus Sable stoled, set down her prizes, and she summoned forth Achaia's champions. At her best they came. But first amidst them all rose Nellius's son, not as desiring in the strife of fists to toil nor strain of wrestling. For his arms and all his sinews were with grievous eye outworn, but still his heart and brain were strong. Of all the Achaeans, none could match himself against him in the Folkmote's war of words. No, not even Laertes's glorious sun to him ever gave place when men for speech were met, nor he alone, But even the kingliest of archives, Agamemnon, lord of the spears, now in their midst he sang. The gracious Queen of Nereids sang, how she, in willsomeness of beauty was of all the sea maid's chief well pleased. She hearkened. Yet again he sang, singing of Pelias's bridle of delight, which all the blessed immortals brought to pass by Pelion's crests. Sang of the ambrosial feast, when the swift hours brought in immortal hands meets not of earth, and heaped in golden mass, saying how the silver tables were set forth in haste by famous blithely laughing, saying how breathed to Peistus, purest flame of fire, Saying how the nymphs in golden chalices mingled Ambrosia, saying the ravishing dance twined by the Grace's feet, saying of the chant the muses raised, and how its spell enthralled all mountains, rivers, all the forest brood. How raptured was the infinite firmament Chirn's fair caverns. Yes, the very gods, such noble strain, did Nelius's son pour out into the argives eager ears, and they hearkened with ravished souls. Then in their midst he sang once more the imperishable deeds of princely Achilles. All the mighty throng acclaimed him with delight. From that beginning with fitly chosen words, did he extol the glorious hero, How he voyaged and smote twelve cities, How he marched over leagues on leagues of land and spoiled eleven. How he slew Telephus and eteons might renowned in thebes, How his spear laid Kianess low Poseidon Sun and god like Polydorus, Troilus, the goodly princely Astereepius. And how he died with blood the river streams of Xanthus, and with countless corpses choked his murmuring flow, when the limbs he tore from Laichaon's life beside the sounding river, And how he smote down Hector, how he slew Penthesileia, and the godlike son of Splendor throned dawn. All this he sang to Argives, which already knew the tale sang of his giant Mold. And how no man's strength in fight could stand against him, nor in games where strong men strive for mastery, where the swift contend with flying feet or hurrying wheels of chariots, nor in combat Panoplead, And how in goodly head hear outshone all danions, and how his bodily might was measureless in a stormy clash of war. Last, he prayed heaven that he might see a sun like that great sire. From the seawashed Sciros come that noble song, acclaiming argives, praised yes, silver footed thetis s and gave the singer fleetfoot horses given of old beside Kaikus's mouth by Telefus two Achilles, when he healed the torturing wound with that same spear, wherewith himself had pierced Televius's thigh and thrust the point clear through these nestor Nelius's son to his comrades gave, and glorying in their godlike lord, they led the steeds onto his ships. Then Thedus sat amidst the athlete, ring ten kind to be her prizes for the foot race, and by each ran a fair suckling calf. These, the bold mite of Pelias's tireless son, had driven down from the slopes of Ida prizes of his spear to strive. For these rose up two victory fane Teuker, the first, the son of Telemon, and Ajax of the Locrian archer's chief. These two with swift hands girded them about with loincloths, reverencing the goddess bride of Pelias and the sea maids, who with her came to behold the Argives athlete sport, and Atreus's son, lord of all Argive men, showed them the turning goal of that swift course. Then these the queen of rivalry, spurred on, as from the starting line, like falcon swift, they sped away long. Doubtful was the race now now as the Argives gazed, would Ajax's friends shout? Now rang out the answering cheer from friends of Teucer. But when on their eager speed close on the end they were, then Chuker's feet were trammeled by unearthly powers. Some god or demon dashed his foot against the stalk of a deep rooted tamarisk. Sorely wrenched was his left angle round the joint upswelled, the veins high ridged. A great shout rang from all that watched the contest. Ajax darted past, exultant, ran his Locrian folk to hail their lord with and joy in all their souls. Then to his ships they drove the kind and cast fodder before them eager, helpful friends led to ker halting vents. The leeches drew blood from his foot, Then over it they laid soft, shredded linen ointment smeared and swathed with smooth bands round and charmed away the pain. Then swiftly rose two mighty hearted ones, eager to match their strength in wrestling, strain the son of Titeus and the great Ajax. Into the midst They strode and marveling, gazed the argives on men shaped like gods, then trampled they like lions, famine stung, fighting amidst the mountains over a stag whose strength is even balanced. No whit less is one than the other is deadly rage. So these long time in might were they even matched till Ajax locked his strong hands around the son of Titeus, straining hard to break his back. But he, with wrestling craft and strength combined, shifted his hip beneath Tellimon's sun, and heaved the giant up with a side twist. Wrenched free from Ajax's ankle, walk his thigh, and so with one huge shoulder heave to earth. He threw that mighty champion, and himself came down astride him. Then a mighty shout went up, but the battle stormer Ajax chafed in mind, sprang up hot, eager to assay again that grim encounter from his terrible hands. He dashed the dust and challenged furiously with a great voice, tidy as his son, not a whit. Then other quailed, but rushed to close with him, rolled up the dust in clouds from beneath their feet, hurtling. They met like battling mountain bulls that clashed to prove their dauntless strength, and spurned the dust, while with their roaring all the hills re echo in their despot fury. These dashed their strong heads together, straining long against each other with their massive strength, hard panting in the fierce rage of their strife, while from their mouths drip foam flakes to the ground. So strained the two with grapple of brawny hands beneath that hard grip, their backs and sinewy necks cracked, even as when in mountain glades the trees dashed, storm tormented boughs together. Often Diomedes clutched at Ajax's brawny thighs, but could not stir his steadfast rooted feet. Often Ajax hurled his whole weight on him, bowed his shoulders backwards, strove to press him down and to new grips. Their hands were shifting all around the gazing people shouted, some cheering on glorious Tideus's sun Diamedes, and some the might of Ajax. Then the giant swung the shoulders of his foe to right to left, then gripped him beneath the waist with one fierce heave, and giant effort hurled him like a stone to the earth. The floor of ilion rang again as fell. Diomedes shouted. All the folk yet leapt he up, all eager to contend with giant Ajax for the third last fall. But Nestor rose and spoke between the two from grapple of wrestling, noble sons forbear, for all we know that you are the mightiest of argives since the great Achilles died. Then these from toil refrained, and from their brows wiped with their hands the plenteous streaming sweat. They kissed each other and forgot their strife. Then Thedus, Queen of Goddesses, gave to them four handmaids, and those strong and allless ones marveled beholding them, for these surpassed all captive maids in beauty and household skill, save only lovely trest Bresaeus. These achilles captive brought from Lesbos's isle, and in their service joyed. The first was made stewardess of the feast and lady of meats. The second to the feasters, poured the wine, the third shed water on their hands. Thereafter the fourth bore all away the banquet. Done, these Tideus's son and giant Ajax shared and parted two and two unto their ships. Sent they those fair and serviceable ones next for the play of fists. Idominius rose, for cunning was he in all athlete lore, But none came forth to meet him, Yielding all to him. The elder born, with reverent awe so in their midst gave thetis unto him a chariot and fleet steeds, which theretofore mighty Patroclus, from the ranks of Troy, drove when he slew star beyond seed of Zeus. These to his henchmen gave Idominius to drive unto the ships. Himself still remained sitting in the glorious athlete ring. Then Phoenix to the stalwart argives, cried now to Idominius, the gods have given a fair prize, uncontested, free of toil, of mighty arms and shoulders, honoring the elder born with bloodless victory. But lo, you, younger men, another prize awaits the swift play of cunning hands. Step forth, then, gladden, great Polaides's soul. He spoke. They heard, but each on each other looked, and loth to essay the contest. All sat still till Nellius's son rebuked those laggard souls. Friends, it were shame that men should shun the play of clenched hands, who, in that noble sport have skill, wherein young men delight which links glory to toil. Ah that my fus were strong as when we held King Pelias's funeral feast, I and Acastas's kinsman joining hands, when I, with godlike polyduces, stood in gauntlet strife, in even balanced fray, And when Ancius in the wrestler's ring, mightier than all beside, yet feared and shrank from me, and dared not strive with me that day. For that ere, then, amidst the Epian men, no battle blenchers. They I had vanquished him for all his might, and dashed him to the dust by dead Amaryncus's tomb, and thousands round sat marveling, and my prowess and my strength therefore against me not a second time raised he his hands, strong wrestler though he was, And so I won an uncontested prize. But now old age is on me, and many griefs. Therefore I bid you, whom it well beseems, to win the prize. For Laurie crowns the youth who bears away the mead of athlete strife, stirred by his gallant chiding, A brave man Rose, son of haughty godlike Panopeus, the man who framed the horse the bane of Troy. Not long thereafter none dared meet him now in play of fists, albeit in deadly craft of war, when ares rushes through the field, he was not cunning, but for strife of hands. The fair prize, uncontested, had been won by stout Epius. Yes, he was at point to bear it thence unto the Achaean ships. But one strode forth to meet him. Theseus's son, the spearman Achemus, the mighty of heart bearing already on his swift hands girt the hard hide gauntlets which Evanor's son Agilius, on his prince's hands, had drawn with courage, kindling words the comrades. Then of Panopeus's princely son for Epius, raised a heartening cheer. He like a lion, stood forth in the midst his strong hands gauntleted with bulls hide hard as horn. Loud rang the cheers from side to side of that great throng to fire the courage of the mighty ones to clash hands in the glory play. Soon little spur needed they for their eagerness for fight. But here they closed. They flashed out proving blows to what if, still as theretofore their arms were limber and live, unclogged by toil of war. Then faced each other and upraised their hands, with ever watching eyes and short quick steps a tiptoe, and with ever shifting feet, each still eluding other's crushing might. Then with a rush they closed, like thunder clouds, hurled on each other by the tempest blast, flashing forth lightnings, while the wealth thrills as clashed the clouds and hollow roar the winds, so beneath the hard hide gauntlets clashed, their jaws down streamed the blood, and from their brows the sweat blood streaked made on the flushed cheeks crimson bars. Fierce without pause, they fought, and never flagged. Epius but threw all his stormy strength into his on rush. Yet did Theseus's son never lose heart, but baffled the straight blows of those strong hands, and by his fighting craft, flinging them right and left, leapt In brought home a blow to his eyebrow, cutting to the bone. Even then, with counter stroke, Epius reached Achamus's temple and hurled him to the ground. Swift he sprang up, and on his stalwart foe rushed, smote his head, and rushed in again. The other, slightly swerving, sent his left clean to his brow, his right with all his might behind it to his nose. Yet Akamas still warded and struck with all the manifold shifts of fighting craft. But now the Achaeans all bade stop the fight, though eager still were both to strive for coveted victory. Then came their henchmen, and the gory gauntlets loosed in haste from those strong hands now drew they breath from that great labor. As they bathed their brows with sponges. Myriad poured comrades and friends with pleading words, then drew them face to face and prayed in friendship straight forget your wrath. So to their comrade's persuasion hearkened they, for wise men ever bear a placable mind. They kissed each other, and their hearts forgot that bitter strife. Then Fadus sable stoled gave to their glad hands two great silver bulls, those which Unius Jason's warrior son in sea washed Lemnos to Achilles gave to Ransom strong Lychaon from his hands. These had Hephastus fashioned for his gift to glorious Dionysus, when he brought his bride divine to Olympus, Minos's child, far famous, whom in sea washed DIA's isle. Theseus unwitting left the wine God brimmed with nectar these and gave them to his son, and Thoasid his death to Hypsipoly, with great possessions, left them. She bequeathed the bulls to her godlike son, who gave them up unto Achilles for Lychaeon's life. The one, the son of lordly Theseus took, and goodly Epius sent to his ship with joy the other. Then their bruises and their scars did Podolarius tend with loving care. First pressed he out black humors. Then his hands deftly knit up the gashes salves he laid thereover given him by his sire of old, such as had virtue in one day, to heal the deadliest hurts, yes, seeming cureless wounds. Straight was the smart assuaged and healed the scars upon their brows and beneath their clustering hair. Then for the archery test, Eulius's son stood forth with teucer they which in the race erewhile contended far away from these, Agamemnon, lord of spears, set up a helm crested with plumes, and spoke The master shot is that which shears the hair crest clean away. Then straightway Ajax shot his arrow first and smote the helm ridge sharply rang the brass. Then teucer second, with most earnest heed, shot the swift shaft hath shorn the plume away. Loud shouted all the people as they gazed and praised him without stint, for still his foot halted in pain, yet no wise marred his aim. When with his hands he sped the flying shaft. Then Pelias's bride gave unto him the arms of godlike Troilus, the goodliest of all fair sons, whom Hecuba had borne in hallowed Troy. Yet up his goodly head no joy, she had the prowess and the spear of fell Achilles, reft his life from him. As when a gardener with new wetted scythe mows down ere it may seed a blade of corn or poppy in a garden dewy, fresh and blossom flushed, which by a water course crowds its blooms, mose it ear, it may reach its goal of bringing offspring to the birth, and with his scythe sweep makes it life work, vain and barren of all issue, never more to be fostered by the dews of spring. So did Polaides cut down Priam's son, the godlike, beautiful, the beardless, yet and virgin of a bride almost a child. Yet the destroyer fate had lured him on to war upon the threshold of glad youth, when youth is bold and the heart feels no void. Forthwith a bar of iron, massy and long, from the swift, speeding hand, did many a say to hurl, But not an argive could prevail to cast that ponderous mass. Ajax alone sped it from his strong hand, as in the time of harvest, might a reaper fling from him a dry oak bough, when all the fields are parched, and all men marveled to behold, how far flew from his hand the bronze which scarce two men, hard straining, had uplifted from the ground. Even this Antias's might was wont to hurl erstwhile ere the strong hands of Hercules overmastered him. This with much spoil. Beside Hercules tuck and kept it to make sport for his invincible hand, but afterward gave it to valiant Pelias, who with him had smitten fair towered Ilium's burge renowned, and he two Achilles gave it, whose swift ships bore it to Troy to put him in the mind of his own father, as with eager will he fought with stalwart Trojans, and to be a worthy test wherewith to prove his strength even this did Ajax from his brawny hand, fling far so then the Naiad gave to him the glorious arms from godlike memnon stripped marveling, the argives gazed on them. They were a giant's war gear, laughing a glad laugh. That man renowned received them. He alone could wear them on his brawny limbs. They seemed as they had ever been molded to his frame. The great bar thence he bore withal to be his joy. When he was fain of athlete, toil still sped the contests on, and many rose now for the leaping far beyond the marks of all the rest. Brave agapinor sprang loud shouted all for that victorious leap, and Thedus gave him the fair battle gear of mighty Sickness. Who had smitten first Partisileaus, then had reft the life from many more, till Pelias's son slew him first of the chiefs of grief, and shrouded Troy next in the javelin cast Euryalus hurled far beyond all rivals, while the folk shouted aloud. No archer, so they deemed, could speed a winged shaft farther than his caste. Therefore the ayacid hero's mother gave to him a deep wide silver oil flask taken by Achilles in possession. When his spear slew minies and he spoiled their Nessus's wealth. Then fiery hearted Ajax eagerly rose, challenging to the strife of hands and feet, the mightiest hero there. But marveling they marked his mighty thews, and no man dared confront him. Chilling dread had pulsied all their courage from their hearts. They feared him lest his hands invincible should all to break his adversary's face, and nought but pain be that man's mead. But at the last all men made signs to battle Bider Euryalis, for well they knew him skilled in fighting craft. But he too feared that giant, and he cried. Friends. Any other a caaan whom you will blithe will I face, But mighty Ajax, no far does he overmatch me. He will rend my heart if in the onset anger rise within him from his hands invincible, I trow I should not win. To the ships alive, loud laughing, they all but glowed with triumph joy the heart of ajax, gleaming talents too of silver. He, from Thetus's hands, received his uncontested prize. His stately height called to her mind, her dear son, and she sighed. They which had skill in chariot driving, then rose at the contest's summons eagerly. Menelaeus first Euripolis bowled in fight. Eumulus thoass gold like polypedes, harnessed their steeds and led them to the cars, all panting for the joy of victory. Then rode they in a glittering chariot rank out to one place, to a stretch of sand, and stood ranged at the starting line. The reins they grasped in strong hands quickly, while the chariot steeds shouldered to shoulder, fretted, all afire to take the lead. At starting pawed the sand, pricked ears, and over their frontlets flung the foam with sudden, stiffened sinews. Those ear lords lashed with their whips the tempest looted steeds, Then, swift as harpies, sprang they forth. They strained furiously at the harness, onward, whirling the chariots bounding. Ever from the earth, you could not see a wheel track no nor print of hoof upon the sand. They bly flew up from the plane the dust clouds to the sky, soared like the smoke of burning or a mist rolled round the mountain forelands by the might of the dark south wind, or the west when wakes a tempest, when the hillside stream with rain burst to the front. Eumulus's steeds behind close pressed the team of godlike thoas shouts still answered, shouts that cheered each chariot, While onward they swept across the wide weighed plain from hallowed Ellis. When he had achieved a mighty triumph in that he outstripped the swift ear of Enomaeus's evil souled the ruthless layer of youths who sought to wed his daughter Hippodamia, passing wise. Yet even he, for all his chariot lore, had no such fleet foot steeds as Atreus's son. Far slower the wind is in the feet of these, So Spokey, giving glory to the might of those good steeds and to Atrides's self. And filled with joy was Menelaus's soul. Straightway his henchmen from the yoke band loosed the panting team and all those chariot lords who in the race had striven, now unyoked their tempest footed steeds. Put Lyrius then hastened to spread salves over the wounds of Thoas and Eurypolus. Gashes scored upon their frames when from the cars they fell. But Menelaus, with exceeding joy of victory, glowed when Thedus, lovely trest gave him a golden cup, the chief possession once of Echion, the godlike before Achilles spoiled the far famed birde of Thebes. Then horsemen riding upon horses came down to the course. They grasped in hand the whip, and bounding from the earth, bestrode their steeds. The while with phone ming mouths, the coursers champed the bits and pawed the ground, and fretted eye to dash into the course. Fourth from the line. Swiftly they darted, eager for the strife, wild as the blasts of roaring, boreous or shouting notice when the hurricane swoop he leaves the wide sea high when in the east uprises the disastrous altar star, bringing calamity to seafarers. So swift they rushed, spurning with flying feet the deep dust on the plane. The riders cried each to his steed, and ever plied the lash and shook the reins about the clashing bits on strained the horses from the people, rose a shouting like the roaring of a sea. On on across the level plain they flew. And now the flashing footed, argive steed by spenniless bestrid and had won the race. But from the course he swerved and over the plane once and again rushed wide. Nor Capanius's son, good horseman, though he was, could turn him back by rain or whip, because that steed was strange still to the race course. Yet of lineage noble was he, for in his veins the blood of swift Arion ran the full begotten by the loud piping west wind on a harpy, the fleetest of all earth born steeds, whose feet could race against his father's swiftest blasts him, did the blessed to a drastis give, And from him sprang the steed of Sthenelus, which Tydeus's son had given unto his friend in hallowed Troy. Filled with confidence in those swift feet, his rider led him forth unto the contest of the steeds that day, looking his horsemanship, surely should one win renown. Yet victory gladdened not his heart. In that great struggle for Achilles' prizes, no swift, albeit he was the king of men by skill, outraced him, shouted all the folk glory to Agamemnon. Yet they acclaimed the steed of Valiancethenalus and his lord. For that, the fiery flying of his feet still won him second place, albeit often wide of the course he swerved. Then Thedus gave to Atreus's son, while laughed his lips for joy. God sprung Polydorus's breastplate, silver rot to Sthenalus, Asterepius's massy helm, two lances and a tasselit strong, she gave yes. And to all the riders who that day came at Achilles' funeral feast to strive, she gave gifts. But the son of the old war lord Laertes only grieved to be withheld from contests of the strong, how fainsoever by that sore wound which Alcon dealt to him in the grim fight around dead Yachus's Sun. That was book four, now part of book five. So when all other contests had an end. Fadus, the goddess laid down in the midst great souled Achilles' arms divinely wrought, and all around flashed out the cunning work, wherewith the fire God overchased the shield fashioned for Eachus's Sun, the dauntless sould in wrought upon that labor of a god. Were first high heaven and cloud land, and beneath lay earth and sea. The winds the clouds were there, the Moon and the Sun, each in its several places. There too were all the stars that fixed in heaven and borne in its eternal circlings. Round above and through all was the infinite air, where to and fro flit birds of slender beak you had said they lived and floated on the breeze. Here Tethys all embracing arms were wrought, and ocean's fathomless flow, the outrushing flood of rivers, crying to the echoing hills all round to right to left rolled over the land. Round it rose league long mountain ridges, haunts of terrible lions and foul jackals. There fierce bears and panthers prowled with These were seen wild boars that wetted, deadly, clashing tusks in grimly frothing jaws. There hunters sped after the hounds, beaeders with stone and dart to the life portrayed toiled in the woodland sport, And there were man devouring wars, and all horrors of fight. Slain men were falling down mid horse hoofs, and the likeness of a plain, blood drenched was on that shield. Invincible. Panic was there, and dread and ghastly eno with limbs, all gore bespattered hideously and deadly strife, and the avenging spirits, fierce hearted, she still goating warriors on to the onset they out, breathing breath of fire. Around them hovered the relentless fates beside them, battle incarnate onward pressed, dwelling, and from their limbs streamed blood and sweat. There were the ruthless gorgons, through their hair, horribly serpents coiled with flickering tongues. A measureless marvel was that cunning work of things that made men shudder to behold, seeming as though they verily lived and moved. And while here all war's marvels were portrayed, yonder were all the works of lovely peace. The myriad tribes of much enduring men dwelt in fair cities. Justice washed over them all to diverse toils they set their hands. The fields were harvests laden earth. Her increase bore most steeply rose on that god labored work. The rugged flanks of holy honors mount, and thereupon a palm tree thrown. She sat exulted, and her hands reached up to Heaven. All round her paths broken by many rocks, thwarted the climber's feet by those steep tracks daunted, you saw returning many folk, few won by sweat of toil the sacred height, and there were reapers moving down long swaths, swinging the wetted sickles beneath their hands. The hot work sped to its clothes hard. After these, many sheaf binders followed, and the work grew, passing great with yoke bands on their necks. Oxen were there whereof some drew the wains heaped high with full eared sheaves, And further on were others plowing, and the glebe showed black behind them. Youths where ever busy goads followed. A world of toil was there portrayed, and there were a banquet was with pipe and harp, dances of maids and flashing feet of boys, all in swift movement, like to living souls hard by the dance, in its sweet winsomeness. Out of the sea was rising the lovely crowned Kippris, foam blossoms still upon her hair, and round her hovered smiling witchingly desire and danced the grace's lovely trust. And there were lordly Nius's daughters shown leading their sister up from the wide sea to her espousals with the warrior king, and round her all the immortals banqueted on Pelion's ridge, stretching all about lush, dewy watermeads. There were the starred with flowers, innumerable grassy groves and springs with clear, transparent water. Bright. The air ships with sighing sheets, swept over the sea, some beating up windward, some that sped before a following wind, and round them heaved. The melancholy surge seared. Shipmen rushed this way and that a dread for tempest, gusts, hauling the white sails in to escape the death. It all seemed real. Some tugging at the oars, while the dark sea on either side the ship grew hoary. Beneath the swiftly plashing blades and their triumphant the earth shaker rode amid sea. Monsters, stormy footed steeds drew him and seemed alive as over the deep they raced, often smitten by the golden wings. Around their path of flight. The waves fell smooth, and all before them was unrippled. Calm dolphins on either hand about their king, swarmed in wild rapture of homage, bowing backs, and seemed like live things over the hazy sea, swimming, albeit all of silver rot marvels of untold craft were imaged. Thereby, cunning souled Hephistus's deathly hands upon this shield, and ocean's fathomless flood clasped like a garland all the outer rim and compassed all the strong shield's curious work. And there beside the massy helmet lay Zeus, in his wrath, was set upon the crest, throned on Heaven's dome. The immortals all around, fierce battling with the Titans, fought for Zeus, already their foes enwrapped with flame, for thick and fast as snowflakes poured from heaven the thunderbolts, the might of Zeus was roused, and burning giants seemed to breathe out flames. And there beside the fair, strong corselet lay unpierceable which clasped Polaides. Once there were the greaves close, lapping light alone to Achilles. Massy of mold and huge they were, and hardby flashed the sword, whose edge and point no male could turn, with golden belt and sheath of silver, and with haft of ivory, brightest amid those wondrous arms it shone stretched on the earth. Thereby was that dread spear, long as the tall tressed pines of Pelion, still breathing out the reek of Hector's blood. Then amid the Argives, Fadus stable stole in her deep sorrow, for Achilles spoke, Now all the athlete prizes have been won, which I set forth in sorrow for my child. Now let that mightiest of the Argives come, who rescued from the foe my dead, to him, these glorious and immortal arms I give, which even the blessed deathless joyed to see. Then rose in rivalry, each claiming them Laertes, Seed, Odysseus, and God like Telemon's son Ajax, the mightiest far of Danning and men. He seemed the star that in the glittering sky outshines the host of heaven Hesperus, so splendid by Polaides's arms, he stood and let these judge. He cried, Idominius, Nestor, and kingly counseled Agamemnon. For these he weaned, with sureliest know the truth of deeds wrought in that glory battle. Toil to these I also trust most utterly, Odysseus said, for prudent of their wit be these and princeliest of all Danny and men. Well, that seems as good a place as any to stop Book five. That was, like, I don't even I won't guess how long. It was. But all that really did the whole section I just did of book five, All that really did was describe Achilles's armor. Now, remember, what this is doing is evoking very similar moments in I mean, I guess by the time of this writing, probably the Iliad and the a Neeod. I'm not gonna double check that date. It could be not after the Eneiod. But I think that it is. In either case, we have such similar scenes of Achilles' armor being wrought in the Iliad by Hephaistus, and then it's being reimagined here again now after his death, as these two heroes quote unquote heroes are about to fight over it. And I just want to take a minute and just just to have you all sit in the idea that that was all just his armor, and how much we are supposed to believe is being put like how many stories, how many details are said to exist in this armor, because it is not only a way to tell the story through something as important as, you know, a warrior's armor, but it is also just evoking and like really like drilling in just how incredible the work of the god Odds is, but particularly hephistis this god who can just create literally the most incredible works of art in armor. And I honestly don't know how to talk about something like this without pointing out completely militarized police of the States and also a little bit Canada, but definitely broadly North America and just generally cops, you know, cops, the militarization of police and modern quote unquote armor that is really only used to attack students peacefully protesting their universities funding a genocide. So you know, I just think things weren't good back then, but they didn't have that. The world is awful. Everyone should be fucking angry. North America is descending into complete fascism, and the imperial of this colonial machine is worse than ever, which is like really saying something because it's been really bad for like a really long time. That's the understatement of a lifetime. I literally only know how to make this sound like I'm not losing my whole mind. And next week this what comes after this Armor. I don't know how much I you all remember but when I covered these episodes, or even how much I said, because it was six years ago, but there is some pretty big drama over Achilles's Armor, pretty cheap big drama. That's my lead up. So next week we will look at the rest of book five that per pretty big drama, and Book six. For now, though, this is the first time I've recorded in like three weeks, and my voice is going and I plan to record the next episode right away that seems less likely. Thank you allso much for listening. It's been a while. Thank you all for being so patient with me. I've also gotten, like I'm sure it's been fairly obvious. I'm not really great at like hiding when I feel like shit, but you know, just like life's been really tough right now. And then also the world is awful, and I that's it. The world's awful. But so I've just been I've been really really struggling and medicating, and I think that's why I'm getting better anyway, So things are are looking up. I really hope to have a bunch of great episodes coming for you, guys. I do have a trip to Grease soon, so I'm gonna be preparing a bunch in advance as I usually do. We're gonna see how that goes. But also to you listeners, who are some of the lucky for you joining me for the first official group trip to Grease, which was planned before my life exploded. I'm looking forward to it. It's gonna be fun. Hopefully it works out so well, and then I start holding more of those that's happening soon. I mean, honestly, there's only ten of us this time, but stay tuned because again, if it goes well, if we can make it affordable for people in a way that works for everyone. I'm gonna be really happy to do these more often. So fingers crossed You ten are my little test run. We're gonna have a time. Thank you so much for listening as always. Oh, I've also gotten some incredible reviews lately. I'll be reading them in regular episodes. But also like, honestly thank you if you left a review in the last month, well, I mean anytime, but like the ones that I've been getting in my email box in box recently are truly like they made me feel really good when I really needed it, so I appreciate it very much. Let's Talk about MIT's Baby is written produced by me Live Albert Mikayla Smith is the Harmeies to my Olympians. The assistant producer, Laura Smith is the production assistant and audio engineer. Select music in this episode was by Luke Chaos. The podcast is part of the iHeart Podcast Network. Listen on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. Help me continue bringing you the world of mythology and the ancient Mediterranean by becoming a patron where I promise I'll be back with some bonus episodes soon, but I really do consider my Patreon just helping the free show, because two a week is a lot, so I don't ever promise a lot of bonus. Normally I do one a month, and I'm hoping to get back to that, but i've been struggling. Visit patreon dot com, slash myths baby, or click the link in this episode's description. I am live and I love this shit.