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1. The Bargain of
Odysseus
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Feeling struck by
love's disease,
Princes come from all of Greece
To
compete for Helen's hand,
And the kingship of her land.
Shows
Tyndareus--the old king,
And her father--the bride's ring,
While
declaring to the crowd,
What he previously had vowed:
That
like birds that wear same feather,
Girl and crown shall go together,
So that
love's attractive flower
Its scent blends with royal power.
Such
ingenious combination
Causes smashing fascination,
And the
suitors their love pour
With such zeal that threatens war!
Thinks
the king then, "If I choose
One of them, we might all loose.
Once
one suitor wins the laurel,
All the rest will start to quarrel.
Wedlock
turns thus into sore,
Wedding party into war!"
Having
noticed the king's plight,
Says Odysseus one clear night,
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"There's a way to hinder
fight,
Which all suitors will find right.
Such a
way I could confide,
If I hence leave with a bride."
Says
the king, "I must decline.
Helen is indeed divine,
And
your gifts quite disavow
Any chance to win this row."
"Why
should I wish her for bride?
In that race, I step aside.
From an
egg the girl's been hatched,
Could my birth with hers be
matched?
But
Penelope's my choice,
At her love I shall rejoice."
"I'm
not sure if my sweet niece
My dear brother will release."
"Talk
to him, and key to peace
I shall trade for your sweet niece.
Just
Penelope ... none other,
Of my child shall be the mother!"
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2. The Threats of
Agamemnon
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Nights and
days--endless succession--,
Seem to nurture more aggression,
As the
king can not decide
Who shall win the precious bride.
To his
burden adds one straw,
Agamemnon, son-in-law:
"It's
my hope that we'll agree,
That you wisely shall decree,
And by
making a firm stand,
Give my brother Helen's hand."
"It's
my daughter who will choose;
She'll accept, or she'll refuse."
"Better
is if she obeys
Her wise father and his ways."
"Any
suitor will find reason
To complain or to cry 'treason'.
Whether
I make the decision,
Or else she, there'll be division."
"Menelaus's not your
foe.
But he should not lose this row.
Then,
my friend, another question
En passant I wish to mention:
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As
would be an angry bee,
Has your daughter been to me!
But
this flaw you could correct
If my brother you select.
Otherwise another
course
Might I choose, that is, divorce.
Thus
your daughter I would ditch;
She's no wife, rather a witch!"
"A
sweet flower was my daughter,
Like pure light, or like fresh
water,
Till
your manners, brute and coarse,
Of her spite became the source.
If you
plan a change of course,
Grasp your chance and give up
force!"
"Old
disputes I won't discuss,
Nor of trifles make a fuss ...
These
are times to make decisions,
And to end idle divisions.
There're too many realms
in Greece,
With more union we'd get peace.
Greater
things we may achieve
If our realms could interweave!"
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"Hail Icarius,
wise and free,
I must beg you hear my plea."
"You
seem suffer of hard strain,
Please, your pain you must explain.
If you
have to, please complain;
We both know the world's insane!"
"Please, Icarius, do
refrain!
We should not the gods disdain.
Our
good Earth is mother sane,
But her children are her bane!
Hundred
princes and their troops
Fill our fields with their large
groups.
Once
one suitor wins the laurel,
All the rest will start to quarrel.
I come
here to implore,
To avert the clouds of war!"
"My
dear brother, I shall do
All I can to help you through!
Trust
in me, we'll find a clue,
As roots bitter we must chew!"
"Says
Odysseus he would trade
Key to peace for a fair maid,
But he
Helen puts aside,
On another he will ride."
"There
you are! These are good news!
We may help this man to choose!"
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"It's
the choice of his caprice
To receive as wife my niece."
"What?
Penelope? He's mad!
For her Ithaca's too sad!
And I
need her to be near
For old age she is too dear!"
"He has
said that she'll be mother
Of his children, and none other."
"Such a
contract is not fair,
I shall die out of despair!"
"I'll
arrange rich compensation
That will banish desperation."
"It's
my daughter who must choose;
She'll accept, or she'll refuse!"
"Better
is if she obeys
Her old father and his ways."
"There's in me no
hesitation:
She'll decide her destination!
This is
all I can now give,
Be good brother, and forgive!"
"Thousand thanks for your
assistance,
And excuse, please, my insistence.
(Yet
not you, but I am king,
And I'll choose her wedding ring!)"
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"Hail Odysseus, I
have news
To exchange for your wise views:
My good
brother gives my niece,
If you grant the key to peace.
I am
now prepared to hear
How this case you plan to gear."
Says
Odysseus, "Good for both!
The solution is an oath:
Let the
suitors vow, pledge, swear
That it's sacred this affair,
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That
whoever is selected
Should not only be respected,
But by
all should be protected.
That full force shall be collected
Among
those who were rejected,
To defend the one elected.
Then
this oath you must exact
In advance, as solemn pact."
Says
the king, "You are most clever,
Thanks, Odysseus, for this lever!"
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"My dear child,
the time has come,"
Says the king, "for wedding drum:
Lawful
husband you may choose,
I will not your choice refuse,
But
I've made them sign a pact,
Meant to keep your home intact.
I know
well that you mean war.
That not few will call you 'whore'.
Yet
I've loved you, my dear child,
Since that egg broke, and you
smiled.
The
high heavens wrought your face,
None could ever match your grace!
But
with heaven we're at odds
So your face have sent the gods.
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Though
a bane shall be your name,
Yet our madness we should blame!"
Says
the girl who knows no care,
Slightly touching her fair hair:
"You,
Tyndareus, on this earth,
Are my father since my birth.
I shall
choose as you prefer,
Since what must by force occur,
None
should hinder nor deter,
At the most, little defer ..."
Into
Helen's head those words
With their songs had put the birds
Which
know more of man's affairs
Than he knows of his own cares.
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O Odysseus, wise
forever,
To the king you gave a lever!
In
exchange you got his niece,
But for you, does it mean peace?
Are you
sure that your device
Against you will not arise?
It's
for better, or for worse?
It's a blessing, or a curse?
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For as
suitor you here came,
And the oath includes your name!
Menelaus got the
wreath,
And his sword rests in its sheath,
May his
marriage in peace last,
And your bliss be unsurpassed!
Yet
remember, "With a pledge,
One comes near a dreadful edge!"
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SONGS OF
TROY
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