The Logos of Priam

What is one son, I hear the fools cry.
What is one child for the sake of the city?
Give him up, give up his prizes,
for the Greeks have come to pillage.

It was not solely for my son's lover that the Greeks came.
And she pleaded with me for him, despite his faults.
When Great Agamemnon raised his voice for his own kin,
I understood why he would never relent.

For should I have given up my son to his hands,
the city would still have burned for defiance,
Helen would still be little better than a helot,
Expendable after her repeated services to the state.

And my truest son would not ignore her violation.
For he stood against his own brother when demands
were made as to her fidelity. That she would be Paris' alone.
And I listened at my wastrel son's presumption.

He had liberated her, he claimed. She was free
to be his slave, his concubine and his trophy.
She would stand as a great jewel in Troy's temple,
a fitting tribute to Aphrodite, the greatest host.

And I laughed as Paris spoke with earnest hope,
for he truly believed that such a minor victory
would change the course of the world. That a thousand
ships that sat ready at anchor would not be launched.

He had merely provided the tyrants with an excuse
to sit about our walls, to take our goods,
to kill our people, and to befoul our land.
And all was known to me, as I gave audience.

But I would not abandon my son to them.
He was a child, a fool, and a flatterer.
In initial leap to flight, he was unbeatable,
but one moment within true passion melted his wings.

I am old, and my sight dims, but even I can see love
when it blossoms in plain sight. For Helen loved my truest son
even though she said it not. Alone, afraid, and waiting
at home for her abductor to return from triumphal feasts.

The people called again for her head to be delivered,
either to them or to the Greeks, whichever mattered not.
And Hector stood proud, defending her honor despite
the flung curses as to his stubbornness and pride.

Even an old fool can hear the creaks and gasps in the house,
and it was not only for myself that I kissed the hands
of Achilles and begged for peace for my son's remembrance.
I also spoke for she who hid her love eternal.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uuegke22rdA]

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detroitmechworks's picture

And thanks to King Priam for his thoughts.

This narrative was honestly a bit of a surprise to me. And no, it's not just about Troy.

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I do not pretend I know what I do not know.