Oration 61
Imperial Dio Chrysostom Greek- (Dio.) Since you happen to praise Homer not poorly, nor, like the multitude, to feign admiration on the strength of his reputation, but have perceived the poet's most masterly quality—his experience in the passions of mankind—let us, if you please, leave aside the rest for now, the affairs of kings and generals, and consider one of the captive women: what manner of person he has made the priest's daughter, of whom he made mention at the very beginning of the poem. For Agamemnon appears to praise the girl not only for her beauty but also for her character. He says that she is in no way inferior in mind to his own wife—and it is plain that he thinks his wife has sense. — 2. What of that? Has he not said this merely because he is deceived by his love? — (D.) It is worth examining; and yet it is most difficult to convince men in love. For the generality of them are suspicious and easily angered, and they say they are never loved as they deserve by their beloved, especially when they are so far superior and consort with them by right of power. — But I maintain that these things befall base lovers. — (D.) Then, whether Agamemnon was a man of worth, in which case he judged rightly of her, or whether he was like the common run, it is not easy for such a man to be pleased by a worthless woman so as to suppose her good. 3. Come, then, let us look at the rest. — And what other proof have you, at least from Homer, of the woman's character? For he has made her neither do nor say anything, but be handed over to her father in silence. — (D.) What of that? Could not one, from what happened in her case, infer her disposition, if he examined the matter not too simply nor too naively? — Perhaps. — Are we, then, to suppose that Chryses came to the camp with ransom, bringing also the fillets of the god, and supplicated the multitude and the kings to release her, against his daughter's will; or, on the contrary, that she begged her father to help her if he could? 4. For if Chryseis had been content with her present lot and had wished to live with Agamemnon, Chryses would never have chosen, while grieving his daughter, to make himself hateful to the king, not being ignorant of how matters stood between them. For Chryseis's living with the king, if she was cherished by him, was no less to Chryses's advantage; since the land and the temple and he himself had come under the Achaeans, and the king was master of them. 5. And again, how is it that, when she was first captured, he neither came nor made any mention of ransom—at the time when it was natural to bear the matter more grievously—but later on, when the grief had grown less and her intimacy with Agamemnon greater? For it was in the tenth year of the siege, the poet says, that these things took place—the priest's arrival and the bringing of the ransom. And the neighbouring towns and the lesser ones, among which were Chrysa and the temple, were likely to have been captured at once, at the beginning of the war. — Then this account exhibits great absurdity in Chryseis: that earlier, when she was a captive, just bereft of her father and her fatherland, she endured it, but that when ten years had passed she bore it ill. — 6. (D.) Yes, if you would but hear the rest. For it is not sweet, even for free women, to abandon an ordinary lover once they have one—much less the most illustrious and wealthy of men, king of all the Greeks, holding the greatest power among the men of that time, master not only of her but also of her father and her fatherland, and expecting to subdue Asia too within a short time (for Ilium had long been in a sorry state, and they barely kept the city itself, and no one came out to fight); and the king felt for her no slight affection, but openly avowed that he honoured her above his own wife. That she should spurn so many and so great advantages, and above all such a lover—not only a king, great and brave among the few, but young and handsome too, as Homer says, likening him to Zeus—and then, going to her captured fatherland, dwell with one of Agamemnon's slaves, if she was to marry one of the natives—how is this not absurd? 7. For to be a captive, and on that account not to love one's captor, is not reason enough. Briseis, at any rate, appears to love Achilles, and that though she says he killed her husband and her brothers; whereas Agamemnon had done no such thing to Chryseis. — Well said. Then from these arguments Chryseis did not wish to be sent away by Agamemnon, but Chryses did this on his own account; or, if she did wish it, she would be the more foolish, and you have argued the opposite of what you promised. — 8. (D.) Well then, do not pass judgment, as the saying goes, before hearing both sides. You say Homer was wise? — Perhaps. — (D.) Suppose, then, that some things he states himself, and others he leaves to his readers to perceive. And this is not among the wholly obscure matters. For Chryseis at first, it seems, was content to remain with Agamemnon, for the reasons I have given, and was grateful to the gods that she had been given to no one of the meaner sort but to the king of all, and that he was not indifferent toward her; and so she took no steps about ransom. 9. But when she heard what manner of household Agamemnon's was, how harsh, and of Clytemnestra's cruelty and effrontery, then she came to dread the journey to Argos. And for the rest of the time she stayed, perhaps loving Agamemnon; but when the war was near its end, and a report was running about that the Trojans would no longer be able to hold out much longer, she did not wait for the capture of Ilium. For she knew that for the most part the victors become arrogant, and that men's superstitious fear toward the god is then stronger, when they are at war. 10. For these reasons she then summoned her father and bade him entreat the Achaeans. For she had learned, it seems, that the sons of Atreus were ruled by their wives, and that these men's wives had loftier pretensions than they—not on the score of beauty only, but also thinking that the sovereignty belonged rather to themselves. For the men, they held, were Pelopids and newcomers to Greece, while they themselves were Achaean women, daughters of Tyndareus and Leda. And Tyndareus was illustrious and king of Sparta, so that it was for this reason that the noblest of the Greeks wooed Helen and swore to come to her aid. 11. Besides this, they were sisters of Castor and Polydeuces, who were accounted sons of Zeus and to this day seem to all men to be gods, because of the power they then possessed. For of those in the Peloponnese they were preeminent; and of those outside the Peloponnese the greatest power was that around Athens, and this they overthrew by their campaign, in the reign of Theseus. Further, their cousin had been Meleager, the noblest of the Greeks. These things, perhaps, Chryseis did not know; but she heard of the spirit of the women, and recognized in Helen how greatly she surpassed her husband. So that when she heard that the affairs of Asia were great, by reason of the excellence of the country and the multitude of its people and its wealth, she came to despise not Menelaus only, but Agamemnon too, and the whole of Greece, and chose this in preference to those. 12. Now Menelaus had earlier yielded to Helen in all things, and afterward, when he had taken her captive, nevertheless courted her; whereas Agamemnon, exalted by his power, had dishonoured Clytemnestra, so that it was plain they would not endure one another, but that matters would turn out very nearly as they did. For Chryseis took no pleasure in this either, when Agamemnon said—and that openly, in the assembly of the Achaeans—that he honoured her above his own wife and reckoned her in no way inferior; for she knew that it would bring envy and jealousy. 13. And, by Zeus, she observed Agamemnon's character, that it was not steadfast but arrogant and insolent, and she reckoned what he would do toward her, a captive, once he had ceased to desire her, seeing that of his own wife—a queen, and one by whom he had children—he made such contemptuous mention. For foolish women rejoice in their lovers when they appear to dishonour the rest; but women of sense look to the nature of the man who does or says such things. 14. At the same time she perceived that he was disposed insolently toward herself too, and that at the very height of his passion. For to drive off Chryses thus—the father of his beloved—and not to spare him for her sake; and, far from consoling the old man by saying that no harm should come to his daughter, on the contrary not only to threaten him but to dishonour Chryseis herself, saying, "But her I will not release; before that, old age shall come upon her in our house, in Argos, far from her fatherland, plying the loom and sharing my bed"—what arrogance is this? For what would he have done later, when, while in love, he speaks thus about her? To guard against and foresee these things was the part of no worthless woman. 15. And, I think, what happened in the case of Cassandra at Argos, and to Agamemnon himself, made it plain that Chryseis had sense in rescuing herself from these evils. Therefore, neither by love, nor by royalty, nor by what passes for renown and good fortune, to let herself, young as she was, be carried away, nor to abandon herself to perilous affairs and a troubled household and to envy and jealousy—this was the part of a chaste woman, one truly worthy to be a priest's daughter, reared in the house of a god. — What then? Do you from these things say that she held Agamemnon to be a man of sense? — 16. (D.) By no means; for it was not likely that she said any such thing to him; but it is to be understood from the rest. — How is it, then, that the poet does not say that she departed rejoicing, as he says Briseis departed grieving? — (D.) Because this too she did out of prudence, so as not to provoke Agamemnon nor lead him into contention. Yet he makes it plain, where he says that she was given by Odysseus to her father beside the altar: "So saying he placed her in his arms, and he received his dear child with joy." For I do not think her father would have received her with joy had she been grieving; nor, perhaps, would he have called her "dear," unless she dearly loved her father for what had come to pass. — 17. Very well; but why should Chryseis rather than Chryses on his own account have reasoned out the things you say? (D.) Because it was more likely that she would busy herself about Clytemnestra's affairs; and even if it was her father who reasoned thus, and she assented and obeyed, this too is no mean thing. The many and foolish women, at any rate, love their lovers more than their parents. — Why, then, if she was prudent, did she not prevent Chryses from openly entreating Agamemnon, so that he might be less angered? — 18. (D.) Because she knew that lovers wish in private to gratify their love in everything, but are sometimes ashamed before the crowd; and she thought that the fillets of the god would have a certain power over the multitude—as indeed proved to be the case. — But this I ponder: how it came about that Agamemnon both loved the priest's daughter then, and afterward fell in love with Cassandra, a god-possessed and consecrated maiden. — (D.) Because this too is a token of arrogance and luxury—to desire the forbidden and rare rather than what is ready to hand. — I do not deny that Chryseis was prudent, if these things happened so. — (D.) But would you rather hear how it actually happened, or how it would have been fitting for it to happen?