Republic of the Philippines

City Government of Zamboanga

Colegio de la Ciudad de Zamboanga

Ayala & Vitali Campus

(Elec 101)
Great Works
Self- Learning Module 2

Maverick Daryl W. Napolereyes

Visiting Lecturer
____________________________________________________________________________

COURSE DESCRIPTION:

It focuses on great literary works that can give learners additional perspective or moral values. The
literary selections which serve as the vehicles for understanding messages delivered through the great works of
some authors which at one hand carries a message of values in living one’s life. It is also dealing with the study
of literary genres, exemplified by selected literary pieces from various countries, written at different period in
history.

COURSE OBJECTIVES:

At the end of the course, the students should be able to:

a. comprehend the breadth and depth of the great works of the other countries;
b. deepen their identification, inferences, and insights of the different literary genres of the great
works;
c. explain what significance the literary works can offer to the human lives; and
d. Demonstrate the values learned in the study of the great works to real life situations.

COURSE OUTLINE
Lesson 1: Great Works from the East
1.1 The Story of the Flood
1.2 The Thousand and One Nights

Lesson 2: Great Works from Asia

2.1 Excerpt from The Mahabharata

Lesson 3: Great Works from the Greek Civilization

3.1 Excerpt from The Iliad

LESSON 1: GREAT WORKS FROM THE EAST

A. Lesson Objectives:
1
At the end of the lesson, the students will be able to:
a. discuss the historical perspective of literature through the ages;
b. relate to actual life experiences certain situations in the literary pieces;
c. explain the fundamental truth of life and human nature represented in the stories;
d. discuss the characteristics of each continental literature.

B. Lesson Outline:
Lesson 1: Great Works from the East
1.1: The Story of the Flood
1.2 Excerpts from the Thousand and One Nights

C. Lesson Content:

1.1: The Story of the Flood

Knowing the Author

Unlike modern books, this epic does not have a single author. Stories about King Gilgamesh were told and
handled down by Summerians for hundreds of years after his death. By the twenty-first century B.C., however,
these tales existed in written form, the Gilgamesh epic was an international favorite of its time, translated into
many ancient Near Eastern languages. After the fall of Babylonia, the story survived only in folklore. The
written epic was lost until archeologists excavated Ashurbanipals library in the last century. They discovered
the poem written on clay tablets in cuneiform, the wedge-shaped writing used by the Babylonians.

Vocabulary Enrichment

To understand the epic, the readers should know the following list of names:

Adad : the god of storms and weather

Annunaki : gods of the underworld
Anu : the father of the gods and god of the sky
Belit- Sheri : the scribe for the underworld gods
Ea : the god of the waters and of wisdom; also called Enki
Enkidu : Gilgamesh’s friend and adviser
Enlil : the god of earth, wind and air
Gilgamesh : the hero of the epic, king of Uruk
Humbaba : the giant who guards the cedar of the forest
Irkalla : the queen of the underworld; also known as Ereshkigal
Ishtar : the goddess of love
Namtar : the god of evil fate
Samuqan : the god of cattle
Shamash : the sun god
Shurrupak : an ancient Summerian city, eighteen miles northwest of Uruk
Urshanabi : Utnapishtim’s ferryman
Uruk : an ancient Sumerian city on the Eupharates river
Utnapishtim : the Mesopotamian Noah, survivorof the great flood

The Story of the Flood

From The Epic of Gilgamesh
The Story of the Flood
From The Epic of Gilgamesh

2
 Enkidu dies,and saddened by his death, Gilgamesh goes on a quest for immortality. He journeys through
the mysterious mountain of Manshu, encountered the sun-god Shamash and the goddess Siduri, and travels
across the Ocean to Utnapistism, whose name means “ He Who Saw Life”. Utnaistim and his family are the
only humans who have been granted immortality. When the Gilgamesh asks him how he has defeated death,
Utnapishtim tells the following story
“You know the city Shurrupak, it stands on the banks of Euphrates? That city grew old and the gods that
were in it were old. There was Anu,-lord of the firmament, their father, and warrior Enlil their counsellor,
Ninurta the helper, and Ennugi watcher over canals; and with them also was Ea. In those days the world teemed,
the people multiplied, the world bellowed like a wild bull, and the great god was aroused by the clamour. Enlil
heard the clamour and he said to the gods in council, “The uproar of mankind is intolerable and sleep is no
longer possible by reason of the babel.” So the gods agreed to exterminate mankind. Enlil did this, but Ea
because of his oath warned me in a dream. He whispered their words to my house of reeds, “Reed-house, reed-
house! Wall, O wall, hearken reed-house, wall reflect; O man of Shurrupak, son of Ubara-Tutu; tear down your
house and build a boat, abandon possessions and look for life, despise worldly goods and save your soul alive.
Tear down your house, I say, and build a boat. These are the measurements of the barque as you shall build her:
let hex beam equal her length, let her deck be roofed like the vault that covers the abyss; then take up into the
boat the seed of all living creatures.”
“When I had understood I said to my lord, “Behold, what you have commanded I will honour and
perform, but how shall I answer the people, the city, the elders?” Then Ea opened his mouth and said to me, his
servant, “Tell them this: I have learnt that Enlil is wrathful against me, I dare no longer walk in his land nor live
in his city; I will go down to the Gulf to dwell with Ea my lord. But on you he will rain down abundance, rare
fish and shy wild-fowl, a rich harvest-tide. In the evening the rider of the storm will bring you wheat in
torrents.”
“In the first light of dawn all my household gathered round me, the children brought pitch and the men
whatever was necessary. On the fifth day I laid the keel and the ribs, then I made fast the planking. The ground-
space was one acre, each side of the deck measured one hundred and twenty cubits, making a square. I built six
decks below, seven in all, I divided them into nine sections with bulkheads between. I drove in wedges where
needed, I saw to the punt poles, and laid in supplies. The carriers brought oil in baskets, I poured pitch into the
furnace and asphalt and oil; more oil was consumed in caulking, and more again the master of the boat took into
his stores. I slaughtered bullocks for the people and every day I killed sheep. I gave the shipwrights wine to
drink as though it were river water, raw wine and red wine and oil and white wine. There was feasting then as -
there is at the time of the New Year’s festival; I myself anointed my head. On the seventh day the boat was
complete.
“Then was the launching full of difficulty; there was shifting of ballast above and below till two thirds
was submerged. I loaded into her all that 1 had of gold and of living things, my family, my kin, the beast of the
field both wild and tame, and all the craftsmen. I sent them on board, for the time that Shamash had ordained
was already fulfilled when he said, “in the evening, when the rider of the storm sends down the destroying rain,
enter the boat and batten her down.” The time was fulfilled, the evening came, the rider of the storm sent down
the rain. I looked out at the weather and it was terrible, so I too boarded the boat and battened her down. All was
now complete, the battening and the caulking; so I handed the tiller to Puzur-Amurri the steersman, with the
navigation and the care of the whole boat.
“With the first light of dawn a black cloud came from the horizon; it thundered within where Adad, lord
of the storm was riding. In front over hill and plain Shullat and Hanish, heralds of the storm, led on. Then the
gods of the abyss rose up; Nergal pulled out the dams of the nether waters, Ninurta the war-lord threw down the
dykes, and the seven judges of hell, the Annunaki, raised their torches, lighting the land with their livid flame. A
stupor of despair went up to heaven when the god of the storm turned daylight to darkness, when he smashed
the land like a cup. One whole day the tempest raged, gathering fury as .it went, it poured over the people like
the tides of battle; a imam could not see his brother nor the people be seen from heaven. Even the gods were
terrified at the flood, they fled to the highest heaven, the firmament of Ann; they crouched against the walls,
cowering like curs. Then Ishtar the sweet-voiced Queen of Heaven cried out like a woman in travail: “Alas the
days -of old are turned to dust because I commanded evil; why did I command thus evil in the council of all the

3
gods? I commanded wars to destroy the people, but are they not my people, for I brought them forth? Now like
the spawn of fish they float in the ocean.” The great gods of heaven and of hell wept, they covered their mouths.
“For six days and six nights the winds blew, torrent and tempest and flood overwhelmed the world,
tempest and flood raged together like warring hosts. When the seventh day dawned the storm from the south
subsided, the sea grew calm, the, flood was stilled; I looked at the face of the world and there was silence, all
mankind was turned to clay. The surface of the sea stretched as flat as a roof-top; I opened a hatch and the light
fell on my face. Then I bowed low, I sat down and I wept, the tears streamed down my face, for on every side
was the waste of water. I looked for land in vain, but fourteen leagues distant there appeared a mountain, and
there the boat grounded; on the mountain of Nisir the boat held fast, she held fast and did not budge. One day
she held, and -a second day on the mountain of Nisir she held fast and did not budge. A third day, and a fourth
day she held fast on the mountain and did not budge; a fifth day and a sixth day she held fast on the mountain.
When the seventh day dawned I loosed a dove and let her go. She flew away, but finding no resting-place she
returned. Then I loosed a swallow, and she flew away but finding no resting-place she returned. I loosed a
raven, she saw that the waters had retreated, she ate, she flew around, she cawed, and she did not come back.
Then I threw everything open to the four winds, I made a sacrifice and poured out a libation on the mountain
top. Seven and again seven cauldrons I set up on their stands, I heaped up wood and cane and cedar and myrtle.
When the gods smelled the sweet savour, they gathered like flies over the sacrifice. Then, at last, Ishtar also
came, she lifted her necklace with the jewels of heaven that once Anu had made to please her. “O you gods here
present, by the lapis lazuli round my neck I shall remember these days as I remember the jewels of my throat;
these last days I shall not forget. Let all the gods gather round the sacrifice, except Enlil. He shall not approach
this offering, for without reflection he brought the flood; he consigned my people to destruction.”
“When Enlil had come, when he saw the boat, he was wrath and swelled with anger at the gods, the host
of heaven, “Has any of these mortals escaped? Not one was to have survived the destruction.” Then the god of
the wells and canals Ninurta opened his mouth and said to the warrior Enlil, “Who is there of the gods that can
devise without Ea? It is Ea alone who knows all things.” Then Ea opened his mouth and spoke to warrior Enlil,
“Wisest of gods, hero Enlil, how could you so senselessly bring down the flood?
Lay upon the sinner his sin,
Lay upon the transgressor his transgression,
Punish him a little when he breaks loose,
Do not drive him too hard or he perishes,
Would that a lion had ravaged mankind
Rather than the f loud,
Would that a wolf had ravaged mankind
Rather than the flood,
Would that famine had wasted the world
Rather than the flood,
Would that pestilence had wasted mankind
Rather than the flood.
It was not I that revealed the secret of the gods; the wise man learned it in a dream. Now take your
counsel what shall be done with him.”
“Then Enlil went up into the boat, he took me by the hand and my wife and made us enter the boat and
kneel down on either side, he standing between us. He touched our foreheads to bless us saying, “In time past
Utnapishtim was a mortal man; henceforth he and his wife shall live in the distance at the mouth of the rivers.”
Thus it was that the gods took me and placed me here to live in the distance, at the mouth of the rivers.”

The Return
Utnapishtim said, ‘As for you, Gilgamesh, who will assemble the gods for your sake, so that you may
find that life for which you are searching? But if you wish, come and put into the test: only prevail against sleep
for six days and seven nights.’ But while Gilgamesh sat there resting on his haunches, a mist of sleep like soft
wool teased from the fleece drifted over him, and Utnapishtim said to his wife, ‘Look at him now, the strong
man who would have everlasting life, even now the mists of sleep are drifting over him.’ His wife replied,
‘Touch the man to wake him, so that he may return to his own land in peace, going back through the gate by

4
which he came.’ Utnapishtim said to his wife, ‘All men are deceivers, even you he will attempt to deceive;
therefore bake loaves of bread, each day one loaf, and put it beside his head; and make a mark on the wall to
number the days he has slept.'
So she baked loaves of bread, each day one loaf, and put it beside his head, and she marked on the wall
the days that he slept; and there came a day when the first loaf was hard, the second loaf was like leather, the
third was soggy, the crust of the fourth had mould, the fifth was mildewed, the sixth was fresh, and the seventh
was still on the embers. Then Utnapishtim touched him and he woke. Gilgamesh said to Utnapishtim the
Faraway, ‘I hardly slept when you touched and roused me.’ But Utnapishtim said, ‘Count these loaves and learn
how many days you slept, for your first is hard, your second like leather, your third is soggy, the crust of your
fourth has mould, your fifth is mildewed, your sixth is fresh and your seventh was still over the glowing embers
when I touched and woke you.’ Gilgamesh said, ‘What shall I do, O Utnapishtim, where shall I go? Already the
thief in the night has hold of my limbs, death inhabits my room; wherever my foot rests, there I find death.'
Then Utnapishtim spoke to Urshanabi the ferryman: ‘Woe to you Urshanabi, now and for ever more you
have become hateful to this harbourage; it is not for you, nor for you are the crossings of this sea. Go now,
banished from the shore. But this man before whom you walked, bringing him here, whose body is covered
with foulness and the grace of whose limbs has been spoiled by wild skins, take him to the washing-place.
There he shall wash his long hair clean as snow in the water, he shall throve off his skins and let the sea carry
them away, and the beauty of his body shall be shown, the fillet on his forehead shall be renewed, and he shall
be given clothes to cover his nakedness. Till he reaches his own city and his journey is accomplished, these
clothes will show no sign of age, they will wear like a new garment.’ So Urshanabi took Gilgamesh and led him
to the washing-place, he washed his long hair as clean as snow in the water, he threw off his skins, which the
sea carried away, and showed the beauty of his body. He renewed the fillet on his forehead, and to cover his
nakedness gave him clothes which would show no sign of age, but would war like a new garment till he reached
his own city, and his journey was accomplished.
Then Gilgamesh and Urshanabi launched the boat on to the water and boarded it, and they made ready
to sail away; but the wife of Utnapishtim the Faraway said to him, `Gilgamesh came here wearied out, he is
worn out; what will you give him to carry him back to his own country? So Utnapishtim spoke, and Gilgamesh
took a pole and brought the boat in to the bank. `Gilgamesh, you came here a man wearied out, you have worn
yourself out; what shall I give you to carry you back to your own country? Gilgamesh, I shall reveal a secret
thing, it is a mystery of the gods that I am telling you. There is a plant that grows under the water, it has a
prickle like a thorn, like a rose; it will wound your hands, but if you succeed in taking it, then your hands will
hold that which restores his lost youth to a man:
When Gilgamesh heard this he opened the sluices so that a sweet water current might carry him out to
the deepest channel; he tied heavy stones to his feet and they dragged him down to the water-bed. There he saw
the plant growing;; although it pricked him he took it in his hands; then he cut the heavy stones from his feet,
and the sea carried him and threw him on to the shore. Gilgamesh said to Urshanabi the ferryman, `Come here,
and see this marvellous plant. By its virtue a man may win back all his former strength. I will take it to Uruk of
the strong walls; there I will give it to the old men to eat. Its name shall be “The Old Men Are Young Again";
and at last I shall eat it myself and have back all my lost youth.’ So Gilgamesh returned by the gate through
which he had come, Gilgamesh and Urshanabi went together. They travelled their twenty leagues and then they
broke their fast; after thirty leagues they stopped for the night.
Gilgamesh saw a well of cool water and he went down and bathed; but deep in the pool there was lying
a serpent, and the serpent sensed the sweetness of the flower. It rose out of the water and snatched it away, and
immediately it sloughed its skin and returned to the well. Then Gilgamesh sat down and wept, the tears ran
down his face, and he took the hand of Urshanabi; ‘O Urshanabi, was it for this that I toiled with my hands, is it
for this I have wrung out my heart’s blood? For myself I have gained nothing; not I, but the beast of the earth
has joy of it now. Already the stream has carried it twenty leagues back to the channels where I found it. I found
a sign and now I have lost it. Let us leave the boat on the bank and go.'

After twenty leagues they broke their fast, after thirty leagues they stopped for the night; in three days
they had walked as much as a journey of a month and fifteen days. When the journey was accomplished they
arrived at Uruk, the strong-walled city. Gilgamesh spoke to him, to Urshanabi the ferryman, ‘Urshanabi, climb

5
up on to the wall of Uruk, inspect its foundation terrace, and examine well the brickwork; see if it is not of burnt
bricks; and did not the seven wise men lay these foundations? One third of the whole is city, one third is garden,
and one third is field, with the precinct of the goddess Ishtar. These parts and the precinct are all Uruk.'
This too was the work of Gilgamesh, the king, who knew the countries of the world. He was wise„ he
saw mysteries and knew secret things, he brought us a tale of the days before the flood. He went a long journey,
was weary, worn out with labour, and returning engraved on a stone the whole story.

FORMATIVE EXAM NO. 1

Name: ____________________________________________ Score: ______________

Year/Section: _____________________________ Date: _______________

Directions: Answer the following questions. Please write legibly.

1. Why do the gods agree to destroy humankind
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

2. What causes them to change their kinds?

__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

3. What purpose does the flood story serve in the epic?

__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

6
 4. What evidence is there that Utnapishtim is not entirely sympathetic to Gilgamesh’s quest?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

5. When the snake steals the plants, why doesn’t Gilgamesh return for more?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

1.2 The Thousand and One Nights

Knowing The Author

The Thousand and One Nights are folk tales whose authors are unknown. Folklores are stories that were
originally handed down orally among the common people of a particular culture. Often, these stories relate
events that are unrealistic or unlikely to happen in the real world in order to teach a lesson or express a general
truth about life.
The Thousand and One Nights
The Thousand and One Nights is undoubtedly the most famous work of Arabic prose known to the
Western World. Even people who have never heard its name are familiar with many of its tales, which have
become the part of most people’s childhood such as the voyages of Sinbad the Sailor and Aladdin and his magic
lamp.
The Thousand and One Nights is actually not just one story. Rather, it is a collection of different tales
loosely piece together into one long narrative. The framework that connects all the various tales is the story of
the woman-hating King Shariyar, who marries a different woman each night and puts her to death each
morning. To delay her execution, Princess Sharaharazad (sometimes spelled Scheherazade) tells him a story
each night but withholds its ending until the next day. The tales go on for a thousand and one nights (hence the
name of the book). By the time Princess Sharaharazad has finished telling her tale, almost three years have
passed and King Shariyar has fallen in love with her and as a result decides not to execute her.
The Fisherman and the Jinee
Translated by N.J. Dawood

Once upon a time there was a poor fisherman who had a wife and three children to support.

He used to cast his net four times a day. It chanced that one day he went down to the sea at noon and,
reaching the shore, set down his basket, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and cast his net far out into the water. After
he had waited for it to sink, he pulled on the cords with all his might; but the net was so heavy that he could not
draw it in. So he tied the rope ends to a wooden stake on the beach and, putting off his clothes, dived into the
water and set to work to bring it up. When he had carried it ashore, however, he found in it a dead donkey.

7
 “By Allah, this is a strange catch!” cried the fisherman, disgusted at the sight. After he had freed the net
and wrung it out, he waded into the water and cast it again, invoking Allahs help. But when he tried to draw it in
he found it even heavier than before. Thinking that he had caught some enormous fish, he fastened the ropes to
the stake and, diving in again, brought up the net. This time he found a large earthen vessel filled with mud and
sand.
Angrily the fisherman threw away the vessel, cleaned his net, and cast it for the third time. He waited
patiently, and when he felt the net grow heavy he hauled it in, only to find it filled with bones and broken glass.
In despair, he lifted his eyes to heaven and cried: “Allah knows that I cast my net only four times a day. I have
already cast it for the third time and caught no fish at all. Surely He will not fail me again!”

With this the fisherman hurled his net far out into the sea, and waited for it to sink to the bottom. When
at length he brought it to land he found in it a bottle made of yellow copper. The mouth was stopped with lead
and bore the seal of our master Solomon son of David. The fisherman rejoiced, and said: “I will sell this in the
market of the coppersmiths. It must be worth ten pieces of gold.” He shook the bottle and, finding it heavy,
thought to himself: “I will first break the seal and find out what is inside.”
The fisherman removed the lead with his knife and again shook the bottle; but scarcely had he done so,
when there burst from it a great column of smoke which spread along the shore and rose so high that it almost
touched the heavens. Taking shape, the smoke resolved itself into a jinnee of such prodigious stature that his
head reached the clouds, while his feet were planted on the sand. His head was a huge dome and his mouth as
wide as a cavern, with teeth ragged like broken rocks. His legs towered like the masts of a ship, his nostrils were
two inverted bowls, and his eyes, blazing like torches, made his aspect fierce and menacing.
The sight of this jinnee struck terror to the fisherman’s heart; his limbs quivered, his teeth chattered
together, and he stood rooted to the ground with parched tongue and staring eyes.
“There is no god but Allah and Solomon is His Prophet!” cried the jinnee. Then, addressing himself to
the fisherman, he said: “I pray you, mighty Prophet, do not kill me! I swear never again to defy your will or
violate your laws!”
“Blasphemous giant,” cried the fisherman, “do you presume to call Solomon the Prophet of Allah?
Solomon has been dead these eighteen hundred years, and we are now approaching the end of Time. But what is
your history, pray, and how came you to be imprisoned in this bottle?”
On hearing these words the jinnee replied sarcastically: “Well, then; there is no god but Allah!
Fisherman, I bring you good news.”
“What news?” asked the old man.
“News of your death, horrible and prompt!” replied the jinnee.
“Then may heavens wrath be upon you, ungrateful wretch!” cried the fisherman. “Why do you wish my
death, and what have I done to deserve it? Have I not brought you up from the depths of the sea and released
you from your imprisonment?”
But the jinnee answered: “Choose the manner of your death and the way that I shall kill you. Come,
waste no time!”
“But what crime have I committed?” cried the fisherman.
“Listen to my story, and you shall know,” replied the jinnee.
“Be brief, then, I pray you,” said the fisherman, “for you have wrung my soul with terror.”
“Know,” began the giant, “that I am one of the rebel jinn who, together with Sakhr the Jinnee, mutinied
against Solomon son of David. Solomon sent against me his Vizier, Asaf ben Berakhya, who vanquished me
despite my supernatural power and led me captive before his master. Invoking the name of Allah, Solomon
adjured me to embrace his faith and pledge him absolute obedience. I refused, and he imprisoned me in this
bottle, upon which he set a seal of lead bearing the Name of the Most High. Then he sent for several of his
faithful jinn, who carried me away and cast me into the middle of the sea. In the ocean depths I vowed: I will
bestow eternal riches on him who sets me free! But a hundred years passed away and no one freed me. In the
second hundred years of my imprisonment I said: For him who frees me I will open up the buried treasures of
the earth! And yet no one freed me. Whereupon I flew into a rage and swore: I will kill the man who sets me
free, allowing him only to choose the manner of his death! Now it was you who set me free; therefore prepare to
die and choose the way that I shall kill you.”
“O wretched luck, that it should have fallen to my lot to free you!” exclaimed the fisherman. “Spare me,
mighty jinnee, and Allah will spare you; kill me, and so shall Allah destroy you!”
“You have freed me,” repeated the jinnee. “Therefore you must die.”
“Chief of the jinn,” cried the fisherman, “will you thus requite good with evil?”
8
 “Enough of this talk!” roared the jinnee. “Kill you I must.”
At this point the fisherman thought to himself: “Though I am but a man and he is a jinnee, my cunning
may yet overreach his malice.” Then, turning to his adversary, he said: “Before you kill me, I beg you in the
Name of the Most High engraved on Solomons seal to answer me one question truthfully.”
The jinnee trembled at the mention of the Name, and, when he had promised to answer truthfully, the
fisherman asked: “How could this bottle, which is scarcely large enough to hold your hand or foot, ever contain
your entire body?”
“Do you dare doubt that?” roared the jinnee indignantly.
“I will never believe it,” replied the fisherman, “until I see you enter this bottle with my own eyes!”
Upon this the jinnee trembled from head to foot and dissolved into a column of smoke, which gradually
wound itself into the bottle and disappeared inside. At once the fisherman snatched up the leaden stopper and
thrust it into the mouth of the bottle. Then he called out to the jinnee: “Choose the manner of your death and the
way that I shall kill you! By Allah, I will throw you back into the sea, and keep watch on this shore to warn all
men of your treachery!”
When he heard the fisherman’s words, the jinnee struggled desperately to escape from the bottle, but
was prevented by the magic seal. He now altered his tone and, assuming a submissive air, assured the fisherman
that he had been jesting with him and implored him to let him out. But the fisherman paid no heed to the jinnees
entreaties, and resolutely carried the bottle down to the sea.
“What are you doing with me?” whimpered the jinnee helplessly.
“I am going to throw you back into the sea!” replied the fisherman. “You have lain in the depths
eighteen hundred years, and there you shall remain till the Last Judgment! Did I not beg you to spare me so that
Allah might spare you? But you took no pity on me, and He has now delivered you into my hands.”
“Let me out,” cried the jinnee in despair, “and I will give you fabulous riches!”
“Perfidious jinnee,” retorted the fisherman, “you justly deserve the fate of the King in the tale of ‘Yunan
and the Doctor.’
“What tale is that?” asked the jinnee.

The Tale of King Yunan and Duban the Doctor

It is related (began the fisherman) that once upon a time there reigned in the land of Persia a rich and
mighty king called Yunan. He commanded great armies and had a numerous retinue of followers and courtiers.
But he was afflicted with a leprosy which baffled his physicians and defied all cures.
One day a venerable old doctor named Duban came to the Kings capital. He had studied books written
in Greek, Persian, Latin, Arabic, and Syriac, and was deeply versed in the wisdom of the ancients. He was
master of many sciences, knew the properties of plants and herbs, and was above all skilled in astrology and
medicine. When this physician heard of the leprosy with which Allah had plagued the King and of his doctors
vain endeavors to cure him, he put on his finest robes and betook himself to the royal palace. After he had
kissed the ground before the King and called down blessings upon him, he told him who he was and said:
“Great king, I have heard about the illness with which you are afflicted and have come to heal you. Yet will I
give you no potion to drink, nor any ointment to rub upon your body.”
The King was astonished at the doctors words, and asked: “How will you do that? By Allah, if you cure
me I will heap riches upon you and your childrens children after you. Anything you wish for shall be yours and
you shall be my companion and my friend.”
Then the King gave him a robe of honor and other presents, and asked: “Is it really true that you can heal
me without draft or ointment? When is it to be? What day, what hour?”
“Tomorrow, if the King wishes,” he replied.
He took leave of the King, and hastening to the center of the town rented for himself a house, to which
he carried his books, his drugs, and his other medicaments. Then he distilled balsams and elixirs, and these he
poured into a hollow polo-stick.
Next morning he went to the royal palace, and, kissing the ground before the King, requested him to ride
to the field and play a game of polo with his friends. The King rode out with his viziers and his chamberlains,
and when he had entered the playing field the doctor handed him the hollow club and said: “Take this and grasp
it firmly. Strike the ball with all your might until the palm of your hand and the rest of your body begin to
perspire. The cure will penetrate your palm and course through the veins and arteries of your body. When it has
done its work, return to the palace, wash yourself, and go to sleep. Thus shall you be cured; and peace be with
you.”
9
 The King took hold of the club and, gripping it firmly, struck the ball and galloped after it with the other
players. Harder and harder he struck the ball as he dashed up and down the field, until his palm and all his body
perspired. When the doctor saw that the cure had begun its work, he ordered the King to return to the palace.
The slaves hastened to make ready the royal bath and prepare the linens and the towels. The King bathed, put on
his night-clothes, and went to sleep.
Next morning the physician went to the palace. When he was admitted to the Kings presence he kissed
the ground before him and wished him peace. The King hastily rose to receive him; he threw his arms around
his neck and seated him by his side.
For when the King had left the bath the previous evening, he looked upon his body and rejoiced to find
no trace of the leprosy: his skin had become as pure as virgin silver.
The King regaled the physician sumptuously all day. He bestowed on him robes of honor and other gifts
and, when evening came, gave him two thousand pieces of gold and mounted him on his own favorite horse. So
enraptured was the King by the consummate skill of his doctor that he kept repeating to himself: “This wise
physician has cured me without draft or ointment. By Allah, I will load him with honors and he shall henceforth
be my companion and trusted friend.” And that night the King lay down to sleep in perfect bliss, knowing that
he was clean in body and rid at last of his disease.
Next morning, as soon as the King sat down upon his throne, with the officers of his court standing
before him and his lieutenants and viziers seated on his right and left, he called for the physician, who went up
to him and kissed the ground before him. The King rose and seated the doctor by his side. He feasted him all
day, gave him a thousand pieces of gold and more robes of honor, and conversed with him till nightfall.
Now among the Kings viziers there was a man of repellent aspect, an envious, black-souled villain, full
of spite and cunning. When this Vizier saw that the King had made the physician his friend and lavished on him
high dignities and favors, he became jealous and began to plot the doctor’s downfall. Does not the proverb say:
“All men envy, the strong openly, the weak in secret”?
So, on the following day, when the King entered the council-chamber and was about to call for the
physician, the Vizier kissed the ground before him and said: “My bounteous master, whose munificence extends
to all men, my duty prompts me to forewarn you against an evil which threatens your life; nor would I be
anything but a base-born wretch were I to conceal it from you.”
Perturbed at these ominous words, the King ordered him to explain his meaning.
“Your majesty,” resumed the Vizier, “there is an old proverb which says: He who does not weigh the
consequences of his acts shall never prosper. Now I have seen the King bestow favors and shower honors upon
his enemy, on an assassin who cunningly seeks to destroy him. I fear for the Kings safety.”
“Who is this man whom you supposed to be my enemy?” asked the King, turning pale. “If you are
asleep, your majesty,” replied the Vizier, “I beg you to awake. I speak of Duban, the doctor.”
“He is my friend,” replied the King angrily, “dearer to me than all my courtiers; for he has cured me of
my leprosy, an evil which my physicians had failed to remove. Surely there is no other physician like him in the
whole world, from East to West. How can you say these monstrous things of him? From this day I will appoint
him my personal physician, and give him every month a thousand pieces of gold. Were I to bestow on him the
half of my kingdom, it would be but a small reward for his service. Your counsel, my Vizier, is the prompting
of jealousy and envy. Would you have me kill my benefactor and repent of my rashness, as King Sindbad
repented after he had killed
his falcon?”
The Tale of King Sindbad and the Falcon

Once upon a time (went on King Yunan) there was a Persian King who was a great lover of riding and
hunting. He had a falcon which he himself had trained with loving care and which never left his side for a
moment; for even at night-time he carried it perched upon his fist, and when he went hunting took it with him.
Hanging from the birds neck was a little bowl of gold from which it drank. One day the King ordered his men to
make ready for a hunting expedition and, taking with him his falcon, rode out with his courtiers. At length they
came to a valley where they laid the hunting nets.
Presently a gazelle fell into the snare, and the King said: “I will kill the man who lets her escape!”
They drew the nets closer and closer round the beast. On seeing the King the gazelle stood on her
haunches and raised her forelegs to her head as if she wished to salute him. But as he bent forward to lay hold of
her she leapt over his head and fled across the field. Looking round, the King saw his courtiers winking at one
another.
“Why are they winking?” he asked his Vizier.
10
 “Perhaps because you let the beast escape,” ventured the other, smiling.
“On my life,” cried the King, “I will chase this gazelle and bring her back!”
At once he galloped off in pursuit of the fleeing animal, and when he had caught up with her, his falcon
swooped upon the gazelle, blinding her with his beak, and the King struck her down with a blow of his sword.
Then dismounting he flayed the animal and hung the carcass on his saddle-bow.
It was a hot day and the King, who by this time had become faint with thirst, went to search for water.
Presently, however, he saw a huge tree, down the trunk of which water was trickling in great drops. He took the
little bowl from the falcons neck and, filling it with this water, placed it before the bird. But the falcon knocked
the bowl with its beak and toppled it over. The king once again filled the bowl and placed it before the falcon,
but the bird knocked it over a second time. Upon this the King became very angry, and, filling the bowl a third
time, set it down before his horse. But the falcon sprang forward and knocked it over with its wings.
“Allah curse you for a bird of ill omen!” cried the King. “You have prevented yourself from drinking
and the horse also.”
So saying, he struck the falcon with his sword and cut off both its wings. But the bird lifted its head as if
to say: “Look into the tree!” The King raised his eyes and saw in the tree an enormous serpent spitting its
venom down the trunk.
The King was deeply grieved at what he had done, and, mounting his horse, hurried back to the palace.
He threw his kill to the cook, and no sooner had he sat down, with the falcon still perched on his fist, than the
bird gave a convulsive gasp and dropped down dead.
The King was stricken with sorrow and remorse for having so rashly killed the bird which had saved his
life.
When the Vizier heard the tale of King Yunan, he said: “I assure your majesty that my counsel is
prompted by no other motive than my devotion to you and my concern for your safety. I beg leave to warn you
that, if you put your trust in this physician, it is certain that he will destroy you. Has he not cured you by a
device held in the hand? And might he not cause your death by another such device?”
“You have spoken wisely, my faithful Vizier,” replied the King. “Indeed, it is quite probable that this
physician has come to my court as a spy to destroy me. And since he cured my illness by a thing held in the
hand, he might as cunningly poison me with the scent of a perfume. What should I do, my Vizier?”
“Send for him at once,” replied the other, “and when he comes, strike off his head. Only thus shall you
be secure from his perfidy.”
Thereupon the King sent for the doctor, who hastened to the palace with a joyful heart, not knowing
what lay in store for him.
“Do you know why I have sent for you?” asked the King.
“Allah alone knows the unspoken thoughts of men,” replied the physician.
I have brought you here to kill you,” said the King.
The physician was thunderstruck at these words, and cried: “But why should you wish to kill me? What
crime have I committed?”
“It has come to my knowledge,” replied the King, “that you are a spy sent here to cause my death. But
you shall be the first to die.”
Then he called out to the executioner, saying: “Strike off the head of this traitor!”
“Spare me, and Allah will spare you!” cried the unfortunate doctor. “Kill me, and so shall Allah kill
you!”
But the King gave no heed to his entreaties. “Never will I have peace again,” he cried, “until I see you
dead. For if you cured me by a thing held in the hand, you will doubtless kill me by the scent of a perfume, or
by some other foul device.”
“Is it thus that you repay me?” asked the doctor. “Will you thus requite good with evil?”
But the King said: “You must die; nothing can now save you.”
When he saw that the King was determined to put him to death, the physician wept, and bitterly repented
the service he had done him. Then the executioner came forward, blindfolded the doctor and, drawing his
sword, held it in readiness for the Kings signal. But the doctor continued to wail, crying: “Spare me, and Allah
will spare you! Kill me, and so shall Allah kill you!”
Moved by the old man’s lamentations, one of the courtiers interceded for him with the King, saying:
“Spare the life of this man, I pray you. He has committed no crime against you, but rather has he cured you of
an illness which your physicians have failed to remedy.”
“If I spare this doctor,” replied the King, “he will use his devilish art to kill me. Therefore he must die.”

11
 Again the doctor cried: “Spare me, and Allah will spare you! Kill me, and so shall Allah kill you!” But
when at last he saw that the King was fixed in his resolve, he said: “Your majesty, if you needs must kill me, I
beg you to grant me a day’s delay, so that I may go to my house and wind up my affairs. I wish to say farewell
to my family and my neighbors, and instruct them to arrange for my burial. I must also give away my books of
medicine, of which there is one, a work of unparalleled virtue, which I would offer to you as a parting gift, that
you may preserve it among the treasures of your kingdom.”
“What may this book be?” asked the King.
“It holds secrets and devices without number, the least of them being this: that if, after you have struck
off my head, you turn over three leaves of this book and read the first three lines upon the left-hand page, my
severed head will speak and answer any questions you may ask it.”
The King was astonished to hear this, and at once ordered his guards to escort the physician to his house.
That day the doctor put his affairs in order, and next morning returned to the Kings palace. There had already
assembled the viziers, the chamberlains, the nabobs, and all the chief officers of the realm, so that with their
colored robes the court seemed like a garden full of flowers.
The doctor bowed low before the King; in one hand he held an ancient book, and in the other a little
bowl filled with a strange powder. Then he sat down and said: “Bring me a platter!” A platter was instantly
brought in, and the doctor sprinkled the powder on it, smoothing it over with his fingers. After that he handed
the book to the King and said: “Take this book and set it down before you. When my head has been cut off,
place it upon the powder to stanch the bleeding. Then open the book.”
The King ordered the executioner to behead the physician. He did so. Then the King opened the book,
and, finding the pages stuck together, put his finger to his mouth and turned over the first leaf. After much
difficulty he turned over the second and the third, moistening his finger with his spittle at every page, and tried
to read. But he could find no writing there.
“There is nothing written in this book,” cried the King.
“Go on turning,” replied the severed head.
The King had not turned six pages when poison (for the leaves of the book had been treated with
venom) began to work in his body. He fell backward in an agony of pain, crying: “Poisoned! Poisoned!” and in
a few moments breathed his last.
“Now, treacherous jinnee,” continued the fisherman, “had the King spared the physician, he in turn
would have been spared by Allah. But he refused, and Allah brought about the Kings destruction. And as for
you, if you had been willing to spare me, Allah would have been merciful to you, and I would have spared your
life. But you sought to kill me; therefore I will throw you back into the sea and leave you to perish in this
bottle!”. . .

FORMATIVE EXAM NO. 2

Name: ____________________________________________ Score: ______________

Year/Section: _____________________________ Date: _______________

Directions: Answer the following questions. Please write legibly.

1. What traits does the fisherman recognize in the jinee that allows him to outsmart him?
12
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
2. Explain the meaning of this passage: “He who does not weigh the consequences of his acts shall never
prosper.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
3. What does the fact that King Yunan is so easily deceived by the vizier reveal about his character?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
4. Why should he have trusted Duban more than he trusted the vizier?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
5. What traits do many of the characters in these tales share?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

LESSON 2: GREAT WORK FROM ASIA

A. Lesson Objectives:
At the end of the lesson, the students will be able to:
a. discuss the historical perspective of literature through the ages;
b. relate to actual life experiences certain situations in the literary pieces;
c. explain the fundamental truth of life and human nature represented in the stories;
d. discuss the characteristics of each Asian literature.

B. Lesson Outline:
13
 Lesson 2: Great Work From Asia
2.1 Excerpts from the Mahabharata

C. Lesson Content:

2.1 Excerpts from the Mahabharata

The universal concern with the religious values in Hindu life explains the lack of a clear separation
between religion and literature. Language itself was regarded as sacred. Sanskrit was viewed as the most perfect
of all languages.
Indian poetry and drama did not come into our own until centuries after the Rig Veda was complied.
The greatest Indian poet was Kadilasa, who lived sometime between the fourth and sixth centuries.
The Mahabharata has been handed down orally from generation to generation, and its stories are still
told today. Indian writer and translator R. K. Narayan describes the typical village storyteller beginning an
evening session: “ . . . the storyteller will dress himself for the part by smearing sacred ash on his forehead and
wrapping himself in a green shawl, while his helpers set up a framed picture of some god on a pedestal in the
veranda, decorate it with jasmine garlands, and light incense to it. . . . He begins the session with a prayer,
prolonging it until the others join and the valleys echo with the chants, drowning the cry of jackals.”

Knowing the Author

The myths and tales of Mahabharata are woven into the fabric of its main story by Indian storytellers and
compiled sometime between 200 B.C. and A.D. 200.

Vocabulary Enrichment

To understand the poetry, study the following terms:

1. Jumma-a river in northern India, flowing from the Himalayas southwest into the Ganges.
2. kite- any variousbirds, including the hawk, that prey on insects, reptiles and small mammals.
3. Vishnu- the Hindu god known as the Preserver, because he became a human being on nine segment
occasions to save humanity from destruction.
4. Mahraja- King
5. Carrion- feeding on the dead

From The Mahabharata

Sibi
Adapted by R.I. Narayan

There is a half-moon in the sky today which will disappear shortly after midnight, said the storyteller.
I’ll select a tale which will end before the moon sets, so that you may all go home when there is still a little
light.
The tale concerns a king and two birds. The king was Sibi, who had just performed a holy sacrifice on
the banks of the Jumna. The guests were resting in the tree shade after partaking of a feast. The air was charged
with the scent of flowers and incense. Sibi went round to make sure that everyone was comfortable. A cool
breeze blew from the south, patches of clouds mitigated the severity of the sun in the blue sky, the embers of the
holy fire subsided into a soft glow under the ash.
The king, satisfied that all his guests were happy, dismissed his attendants and proceeded to his own
corner of the camp to rest under a canopy. He had closed his eyes, half in sleep and half in prayer, when he felt
a gust of air hitting him in the face and some object suddenly dropping on his lap. He awoke and noticed a dove,
white and soft, nestling in his lap. Its feathers were ruffled in terror and its eyes were shut. It looked so limp that

14
he thought it was dead, but then he noticed a slight flutter of breath. He sat still in order not to frighten away the
bird, and looked about for a servant.
Just then a hawk whirled down in pursuit, and perched itself on a low branch of the tree beside the
canopy. The hawk exclaimed, “Ah, at last! What a game of hide and seek!”
“What do you want?” asked the king.
“I am addressing myself to that creature on your lap! Never been so much tricked in my life! If every
mouthful of food has to be got after such a trial, a nice outlook indeed for the so-called king of birds! As one
king to another, let me tell you, the dove nestling in your lap is mine. Throw it back to me.”
The king thought over the statement of the hawk and said, “I am indeed honored by a visit from the king
of birds, although I had thought till now that the eagle was the king!”
“I am a hawk, not a kite. Know you that the hawk belongs to the kingly race while the kite is a mere
caricature of our family, pursuing a career of deception by seeming no bigger than its victim and then attacking
it. How often one mistakes a kite for a dove!”
Sibi wanted to divert the attention of the hawk from the subject of the dove and so said, “The kite also
goes out of sight when it flies, so don’t be offended if we land-bound creatures imagine that the kite floats in the
same heaven as the hawk.”
The hawk sharpened his beak on the tree-trunk and lifted one leg to display his talons and said, “I’m
sorry to see the mistakes you human beings make. The kite no doubt flies—but not beyond the back of the
lowest cloud. And you think that it sports in the heavens itself! The only common element between us is that we
both have pointed, curved beaks, that’s all; but the kite has a taste for helpless little creatures such as mice and
sparrows—creatures which we would not care to notice.”
The king realized that the subject was once more drifting towards food and diverted the hawk’s attention
again by saying, “The general notion is that the eagle is the king of birds.”
The hawk chuckled cynically. “Ignorant mankind! How the eagle came to be so much respected, I shall
never understand; what is there to commend the eagle? Its wingspread? You people are too easily carried away
by appearances! Do you know that the hawk can fly just as high as the eagle? And yet you have no regard for
us!”
Sibi said, “You can’t blame us, we take things as they seem from here! I now know better.”
The hawk looked pleased at this concession and said, “Have you ever seen a mountain eagle walk on
the ground? Is there anything more grotesque? Don’t you agree that the first requirement for kingliness would
be grace of movement? Only we hawks have it.”
“True, true,” said the king. “When I move from my bed to the bathroom, even if alone at night, I catch
myself strutting along as in a parade, I suppose!” The king laughed, to entertain the hawk; he thought it might
please the bird to be treated as a fellow king. The hawk looked pleased, and the king hoped that it would take
itself off after these pleasantries.
The dove slightly stirred on his lap, and he hastened to draw over it his silk scarf. The hawk noticed this
and bluntly said, “King, what is the use of your covering the dove? I will not forget that my food, which I have
earned by honest chase, is there, unfairly held by you.”
The king said, “This bird has come to me for asylum; it is my duty to protect it.”
“I may brave your sword and swoop on my prey, and if I die in the attempt the spirits of my ancestors
will bless me. We have known no fear for one thousand generations, what should we fear when the back of our
prime ancestor serves as the vehicle of the great god Vishnu?”
Again the king was on the point of correcting him, that it was a golden eagle that Vishnu rode, not a
hawk, but he checked himself.
The bird emphasized his own status again. “You who are reputed to be wise, O king, don’t confuse me
with the carrion birds wheeling over your head. I know where I stand,” said the bird, preening its feathers.
The king felt it was time to say something agreeable himself, secretly worrying that he was reaching the
limits of his wit. The dove nestled within the silk scarf. There was an uneasy pause while the king dreaded what
might be coming next.
The hawk suddenly said, “All the world speaks of you as one who has the finest discrimination between
right and wrong. And so you have a serious responsibility at this moment. You must not do anything that goes
contrary to your reputation. Remember, I am in the agonies of hunger, and you refuse me my legitimate diet. By
your act you cause me suffering, you injure me every second that you keep your hold on that parcel of meat.
You have attained immeasurable spiritual merit by your deeds of perfection; now this single selfish act of yours
will drain away all your merit and you will probably go to hell.”
“O infinitely wise bird, does it seem to you that I am holding this dove out of selfishness so that I may
eat it myself?”
“I am not so simple-minded,” said the bird haughtily. “By selfish I meant that you were thinking of your
own feelings, totally ignoring my viewpoint.”

15
 “When I recollect the terror in its eye as it fell on my lap, I feel nothing ever matters except affording it
protection.”
“O prince among princes, food is life, out of food all things exist and stir. Between life and death stands
what? Food! I am faint with hunger. If you deny me my food any longer I may die. In a cranny of yonder rock
my wife has hatched four eggs, the little ones are guarded by their mother, and all of them await my return
home. If I die here of hunger, they will keep peeping out for my return home until they perish of the same
hunger. And the sin of ending six lives will be on you. O maharaja, consider well whether you want to save one
doubtful life, which is probably half gone already, or six lives. Let not the performance of what seems to you a
rightful act conflict with bigger issues. You know all this, king, but choose to ignore the issues. And all this
talking only fatigues me and takes me nearer to death. So please spare me further argument.”
Sibi said, “I notice that you are an extraordinary bird. You talk wisely, knowledgeably; there is nothing
that you do not know. Your mind journeys with ease at subtle heights of thought. But, bird, tell me, how is it
that you fail to notice the sheer duty I owe a creature that cries for protection? As a king is it not my duty?”
“I am only asking for food; food is to life what oil is to a lamp.”
“Very well. You see all these people lying around, they have all rested after a feast in which nothing was
lacking to satisfy the sixfold demands of the palate. Tell me what you want, and I will spread a feast before you
in no time.”
“King, the nature of food differs with different creatures. What you call a feast seems to me just so much
trash. We observe from our heights all the activity that goes on in your royal kitchen and ever wonder why you
take all that trouble with spice, salt, and fire to ruin the taste of God-given stuff. King, I do not want to speak at
length. I am famished and I feel my eyes dimming. Have consideration for me too.”
“If it is flesh you want, I will ask them to get it for you.”
The hawk gave an ironical laugh at this. “See where all this leads you! How are you going to get flesh
without killing something else? When you interfere with what God has ordained, you complicate everything.”
“What is God’s plan, actually? Please enlighten me.”
“The dove is intended for me; God has no other purpose in creating it and letting it multiply so
profusely. Are you not aware of the ancient saying that hawks eat doves?”
The king thought it over and said, “If you spare this dove, I’ll guarantee you food every day in my
palace all your life.”
“I have already told you, my lord, that your food is inedible. Your assurance of daily feeding does not
appeal to me. I hunt for food when I want it. I do not see why I should bother about tomorrow. Hoarding for
generations ahead is a human failing, a practice unknown to us. I repeat the ancient saying that hawks eat
doves.”
The king brooded over the words of the hawk for a moment. “Ask for anything, except this little bird on
my lap. I won’t give it up, whichever way you may argue.”
The hawk tilted its head, rolled its eyes, and said, “So be it. I will ask for the next best thing. I want
warm flesh, with warm blood dripping, equal in weight to the dove. We are used to eating only fresh meat, we
are not carrion birds, let me remind you. You will have to cut it out of your own body, as I know you will not
choose to kill another creature for it.”
The king brooded over this. “Yes, but I must consider which part of my body will yield the flesh you
want without destroying my life. Give me a little time. Bear your hunger for a moment.” And he added, “A ruler
has no liberty to die. Many depend on him.”
“In the same way as my family,” said the hawk.
The king beckoned to an attendant. “Bring a pair of weighing scales.”
The attendant was nonplussed. “Your Majesty, how can we find one here, in this remote place?”
The king repeated, “I want a pair of scales for accurate weighing.”
“May I send a messenger to fetch one from the city?”
“How long will he take?” asked the king.
The courtier made a swift reckoning and declared, “If he rides a galloping horse, he should be back
tomorrow at dawn.”
The king looked at the hawk, who already seemed to droop. He did not want to hear again about his
family on the mountain. It was also time to clear up all this situation and feed the refugee on his lap. He said to
the courtier, “Construct a balance immediately with whatever is available here. I’ll give you ten minutes!”
“Whoever fails will have his head cut off, I suppose?” sneered the hawk. “That would be truly kinglike,
but let me tell you straight away that I am not interested in a cut-off head.”
“You shall have my flesh and nothing less,” said the king.
They bustled about. By now the whole camp was astir, watching this incredible duel between the king
and the hawk. They managed to dangle a beam from the branch of a tree. Suspended from either end was a plate
from the kitchen; a pointer, also improvised, marked the dead center of the beam.
The king looked at the hawk and said, “This is the best we can manage.”
16
 “I understand. A little fluctuation should not matter in the least. Only I do not want you to lose more
flesh than is necessary to balance the dove.”
The king did not let the bird finish his sentence, but rose, bearing the dove in his hand. He walked up to
the crude scales in order to test them. He addressed the hawk, “Will you step nearer?”
“I can watch quite well from here. Also I can trust you.”
The king placed the dove on the right-hand side of the scale pan, which immediately went down, making
the king wonder how a little bird which had lain so lightly on his lap could weigh down the balance in this
manner.
He wasted no further time in speculation. He sat on the ground, stretched out his leg, and after a brief
prayer, incised his thigh with a sharp knife. The courtiers and guests assembled groaned at the sight of the
blood. The king gritted his teeth and tore out a handful of flesh and dropped it on the scale.
The pan became bloodstained but the pointer did not move. Someone cursed the dove, “It has the weight
of an abandoned corpse. It looks dead, see if it is dead.”
Another added, “Just pick it up and fling it to that hawk and be done with it, the miserable creature.”
The king was too faint to talk; he gestured to them to stop commenting. He had now only the skin on his
right thigh. Still the scales were unbalanced. The king went on to scoop the flesh from his other leg; the pointer
was still down.
People averted their eyes from the gory spectacle. The hawk watched him critically.
“O hawk, take all that meat and be gone!” they said.
“I have been promised the exact equal weight of the dove,” insisted the hawk, at which all those
assembled cursed the hawk and drew their swords. The king was faint with pain now, but mustered the last
ounce of his strength to command his followers to keep away.
He beckoned to his chief minister to come nearer. “One has no right to end one’s life, but this is
unforeseen. Even if this means hell to me, I have to face it,” he said. Everyone looked at the dove with distaste.
“My brother shall be the regent till the prince comes of age.”
With this he struggled onto his feet and stepped on the flesh-filled pan. At once the other pan went up
and equalized. The hawk now flitted nearer and said, “This is more than a mouthful for me and my family. How
am I to carry you to the mountain?”
The king mumbled feebly, “I did not think of that problem,” and added, “You wouldn’t have been able
to lift the dove either! So bring your family here.”
The hawk flapped its wings and rose in the air and swooped down as if to peck at the king’s flesh.
People shut their eyes, unable to bear the spectacle. But presently they heard divine instruments filling the skies
with music. The hawk was gone, but in its place they found Indra, the god with the dazzling crown, armed with
the diamond spear, seizing Sibi’s hand and helping him down off the weighing scales. A flame rose where the
dove had lain, and from the heart of it emerged the God of Fire.
They said, “O king, we put you to a severe test. We challenged your integrity; and we happily accept
defeat. You are indeed blessed, and as long as human beings recollect your tale, they will partake of the spiritual
merit that you have yourself acquired”—and vanished. The king recovered his energy in a moment, while the
pieces of flesh in the scale pan turned to fragrant flowers.

17
FORMATIVE EXAM NO. 3

Name: ____________________________________________ Score: ______________

Year/Section: _____________________________ Date: _______________

Directions: Answer the following questions. Please write legibly.

1. In this story, if Sibi is the hero, is there a villain? Explain?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
2. Each of the two main characters in the story has a duty. How do these duties conflict?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
3. What is the first strategy that Sibi adopts to resolve the situation?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
4. What does this strategy reveal about Sibi’s attitude toward the painful sacrifice he later undertakes?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
5. What does the final paragraph suggest about the purpose of this story?

18
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

LESSON 3: GREAT WORKS FROM THE GREEK CIVILIZATION

A. Lesson Objectives:
At the end of the lesson, the students will be able to:
a. explain the relevance of the literary themes with the modern times;
b. pass ethical judgment of characters in a story;
c. manifest honestly in evaluating one’s capacity in analyzing the chosen literary pieces; and
d. write literary reactions and analysis.

B. Lesson Outline:

Lesson 3: Great Works from the Greek Civilization

3.1: Excerpts from the Iliad

C. Lesson Content:

3.1: Excerpts from the Iliad

Knowing the Author

Homer

The ancient Greeks ascribed the Iliad and the Odyssey, their two oldest, monumental epic poems to
Homer, whom they called simply “The Poet.” Nothing certain is known about Homer’s life. His name which
means “hostage”, gives no clue to his origins, since small war and raids between neighbouring towns were
frequent in ancient Greece, and prisoners were routinely held for ransom or sold into slavery. Homer is
commonly referred to as the “Ionian bard” or poet; more than likely, he came from Ionia in the Eastern
Mediterranean, where eastern and western cultures met and new intellectual currents were born. In support to
that theory, the Iliad contains several accurate descriptions of the Ionian landscape and its natural feature,
whereas Homer’s grasp of the geography of mainland Greece seems less authoritative.
The legend that Homer was a blind bard may have some basis in fact; if he lived to be an old man, he
may simply become blind. However, the idea of Homer’s blindness may have arisen because of its symbolic
implications. The Greeks contrasted inner vision with physical vision, as for instance in the case of the blind
seer Teiseias and of Oedipus himself, who becomes blind in Oedipus the King.

Vocabulary Enrichment

Know the meaning of the words

banquet chieftains whining lashed

divinities soothsayer steeds dragged
trinkets slackens summoned redeem

19
sulked trickster annihilate captive

From The Iliad

The Heroes of the Trojan War

More than a thousand years before Christ, near the eastern end of Mediterranean was a great city very
rich and powerful, second to none on earth. The name of it was Troy and even today no city is more famous.
The cause of this long lasting fame was a war told of in one of the world’s greatest poems, the Iliad, and the
cause of the war went back to a dispute bating, three jealous goddesses.
The evil goddess of Discord, Eris, was naturally not popular in Olymp, and when the god’s gave a
banquet they were apt to leave her out. Resenting this deeply, she determined to make trouble—and she
succeeded very well indeed. At an important marriage, that of King Peleus and the sea nymph Thetis, to which
she alone of all the divinities was not invited, she threw into the banqueting hall a golden apple marked For the
Fairest. Of course all the goddess, wanted it, but in the end the choice was narrowed down to three: Aphrodite,
Hera and Pallas Athena. They asked Zeus to-judge between them, but vey wisely he refused to have anything to
do with the matter. He told them to got Mount Ida, near Troy, where the young prince Paris, also called
Alexander was keeping his father’s sheep. He was an excellent judge of beauty, Zeus told them. Paris, though a
royal prince, was doing shepherd’s work because his father Priam, the King of Troy, had been warned that his
prince would someday be the ruin of his country, and so had sent him away. At the moment Paris was living
with a lovely nymph named Oenone.
His amazement can be imagined when there appeared before him the wondrous forms of the three great
goddesses. He was not asked, however,’ gaze at the radian divinities and choose which of them seemed to him
the fairest, but only to consider the bribes each offered and choose which seemed to him best worth taking.
Nevertheless, the choice was not easy. What men care for most was set before him. Hera proposed to make him
Lord of Europe and Asia; Athena, that he would lead the Trojans to victory against the Greeks and Jay Greece
in ruins; Aphrodite, that the fairest woman in all the world should be his. Paris, a weakling and something of a
coward, too, as later events showed, chose the last. He gave Aphrodite the golden apple.
That was the Judgment of Paris, famed everywhere as the real reason why the Trojan War was fought.

The Trojan War

The fairest woman in the world was Helen, the daughter of Zeus and Leda and the sister of Castor and
Pollux. Such was the report of her beauty that not a young prince in Greece but wanted to marry her. When her
suitors assembled in her home to make a formal proposal for her hand they were so many and from such
powerful families that her reputed father, King Tyndareus, her mother’s husband, was afraid to select one
among them, fearing that the others would unite against him. He therefore exacted first a solemn oath from all
that they would champion the cause of Helen’s husband, whoever he might be, if any wrong was done to him
through his marriage. It was, after all, to each man’s advantage to take the oath, since each was hoping he would
be the person chosen, so they all bound themselves to punish to the uttermost anyone who carried or tried to
carry Helen away. Then Tyndareus chose Menelaus, the brother of Agamemnon, and made him King of Sparta
as well.
So matters stood when Paris gave the golden apple to Aphrodite. The Goddess of Love and Beauty knew
very well where the most beautiful woman on earth was to be found. She led the young shepherd, with never a
thought of Oenone left forlorn, straight to Sparta, where Menelaus and Helen received him graciously as their
guest. The ties between guest and host were strong. Each was bound to help and never harm the other. But Paris
broke that sacred bond. Menelaus trusting completely to it left Paris in his home and went off to Crete. Then,
Paris was coming
Entered a friend’s kind dwelling.
Shamed the hand there that gave him food,
Stealing away a woman.
Menelaus got back to find Helen gone, and he called upon all Greece to help him. The chieftains
responded, as they were bound to do. They came eager for the great enterprise, to cross the sea and lay mighty
Troy in ashes. ‘Two, however, of the first rank, were missing; Odysseus, King of the Island of Ithaca, and
Achilles, the son of Peleus and the sea nymph Thetis. Odysseus, who was one of the shrewdest and most
sensible men in Greece, did not want to leave his house and family to embark on a romantic adventure overseas
for the sake of a faithless woman. He pretended, therefore, that he had gone mad , and when a messenger from
the Greek Army arrived, the King was plowing Geld and sowing it with salt instead of seed. But the messenger
was shrewd, He seized Odysseus’ little son and put him directly in the way of the plow. Instantly the father

20
turned the plow aside, thus proving that he had all his wits about him. However reluctant, he had to join the
Army.
Achilles was kept back by his mother. The sea nymph knew that if he went to Troy he was fated to die
there. She sent him to the court of Lycomedes, the king who had treacherously killed Theseus, and made him
wear women’ clothes and hide among the maidens. Odysseus was dispatched by the chieftains to find him out.
Disguised as a pedlar he went to the court where the lad was said to be, with gay ornaments in his pack such as
women love, and also some fine weapons. While the girls flocked around the trinkets, Achilles fingered the
swords and daggers. Odysseus knew him then, and he had no trouble at all in making him disregard what his
mother had said and go to the Greek camp with him.
So the great fleet made ready. A thousand ships carried the Greek host They met at Aulis, a place of
strong winds and dangerous tides, impossible to sail from as long as the north wind blew. And it kept on
blowing, day after day.
It broke men’s heart
Spared not ship nor cable.
The time dragged, Doubling itself in passing,
The Army was desperate. At last the soothsayer, Calchas, declared that the gods had spoken to him:
Artemis was angry. One of her beloved wild creatures, a hare, had been slain by the Greeks, together with her
young, and the only way to calm the wind and ensure a safe voyage to Troy was to appease her by sacrificing to
her a royal maiden, Iphigenia, the eldest daughter of the Commander in Chief, Agamemnon. This was terrible to
all, but to her father hardly bearable.
If I must slay
The joy of my house, my daughter
A father’s hands
Stained with dark streams flowing
From blood of a girl
Slaughtered before the altar.
Nevertheless he yielded. His reputation with the Army was at stake, and his ambition to conquer Troy
and exalt Greece.
He dared the deed,
Slaying his child to help a war
He sent home for her, writing his wife that he had arranged a great marriage for her, to Achilles, who
had already shown himself the best and greatest of all chieftains. But when she came to her wedding she was
carried to the altar to be killed.
And all her prayers—cries of Father, Father, Her maiden life,
These they held as nothing,
The savage warriors, battle-mad.
She died and the north wind ceased to blow and the Greek ships sailed out over a quiet sea, but the evil
price they had paid was bound someday to bring evil down upon them.
When they reached the mouth of the Simois, one of the rivers of Troy, the first man to leap ashore was
Protesilaus. It was a brave deed, for the oracle had said that he who landed first would be the first to die.
Therefore when he had fallen by a Trojan spear the Greeks paid him honors as though he were divine and the
gods, too, greatly distinguished him. They had Hermes bring him up from the dead to see once again his deeply
mourning wife, Laodamia. She would not give him up a second time, however. When he went back to the
underworld she went with him; she killed herself.
The thousand ships carried a great host of fighting men and the Greek Army was very strong, but the
Trojan City was strong, too. Priam, the King, and his Queen, Hecuba, had many brave sons to lead the attack
and to denied the walls, one above all, Hector, than whom no man anywhere was nobler or more brave, and
only one, a greater warrior, the champion of the Greek Achilles. Each knew that he would die before Troy was
taken. Achilles has been told by his mother. “Very brief is your lot. Would that you could be free now from
tears and troubles, for you shall not long endure, my child, short-lived beyond all men and to be pitied.” No
divinity had told Hector, but they equally sure. “I know well in my heart and in my soul,” he said to his, °
Andomache, “the day shall come when holy Troy will be laid low and Priam and Priam’s people.” Both heroes
fought under the shadow of certain death.
For nine years victory wavered, now to this side, now to that. Nein, was ever able to gain any decided
advantage. Then a quarrel flared up between two Greeks, Achilles and Agamemnon, and for a time it turned the
tide in of the Trojans. Again a woman was the reason. Chryseis, daughter of Apollo’s priest, whom the Greeks
had carried off and given to Agamemnon. Her father came to beg for her release, but Agamemnon would not let
her go. Then the priest prayed so the mighty god he served and Phoebus Apollo heard him. From his sun-chariot
he shot fiery arrows down upon the Greek Amy, and men sickened and died so that the funeral pyres were
burning continually.
21
 At last Achilles called an assembly of the chieftains. He told them that they could not hold out against
both the pestilence and the Trojans, and that they must either find a way to appease Apollo or else sail home.
Then the prophet Calchas stood up and said he knew why the god was angry, but that he was afraid to speak
unless Achilles would guarantee his safety. “I do so,” Achilles answered, “even if you accuse Agamemnon
himself.” Every man there understood what that meant; they knew how Apollo’s priest had been treated. When
Calchas declared that Chryseis must be given back to her father, he had all the chiefs behind him and
Agamemnon, greatly angered, was obliged to agree. “But if I lose her who was my prize of honor,” he told
Achilles, “To will have another in her stead”.
Therefore when Chryseis had been returned to her father, Agamemnon sent two of his squires to
Achilles’ tent to take his prize of honor away from him, the maiden Briseis. Most unwillingly they went and
stood before the hero in heavy silence. But he knowing their errand told them it was not they who were
wronging him. Let them take the girl without fear for themselves, but hear him ‘first while he swore before gods
and men that Agamemnon would pay dearly for the deed.
That night Achilles’ mother, silver-footed Thetis the sea nymph, came to him. She was as angry as he.
She told him to have nothing more to do with the Greeks, and with that she went up to heaven and asked Zeus
to give success to the Trojans. Zeus was very reluctant. The war by now had reached Olympus the gods were
ranged against each other, Aphrodite, of course, was on the side of Paris. Equally, of course, Hera and Athena
were against him. Ares, God of War, always took sides with Aphrodite; while Poseidon, Lord of the Sea,
favored the Greeks, a sea people, always great sailors. Apollo cared for Hector and for his sake helped the
Trojans, and Artemis, as his sister, did so too. Zeus liked the Trojans best, on the whole, but he wanted to be
neutral because Hera was so disagreeable whenever he opposed her openly. However, he could not resist Thetis.
He had a hard time with Hera, who guessed, as she usually did, what he was about. He was driven finally into
telling her that he would lay hands upon her if she did not stop talking. Hera kept silence then, but her thoughts
were busy as to how she might help the Greeks and circumvent Zeus.
The plan Zeus made was simple. He knew that the Greeks without Achilles were inferior to the Troians,
and he sent a lying dream to Agamemnon promising him victory if he attacked. While Achilles stayed in his
tent a fierce battle followed, the hardest yet fought. Up on the wall of Troy the old King Priam and the other old
men, wise in the ways of war, sat watching the contest. To them came Helen, the cause of all that agony and
death, yet as they looked at her, they could not feel any blame. “Men must fight for such as she,” they said to
each other. “For her face was like to that of an immortal spirit.” She stayed by them, telling them the names of
this and that Greek hero, until to their astonishment the battle ceased. The armies drew back on either side and
in the space between, Paris and Menelaus faced each other. It was evident that the sensible decision had been
reached to let the two most concerned fight it out alone.
Paris struck first, but Menelaus caught the swift spear on his shield, and then hurled his own. It rent
Paris’ tunic, but did not wound him. Menelaus drew his sword, his only weapon now, but as he did so it fell
from his hand broken, Undaunted though unarmed he leaped upon Paris and seizing him by his helmet’s crest
swung him off his feet. He would have dragged him to the Greeks victoriously if it had not been for Aphrodite.
She tore away the strap that kept the helmet on so that it came away in Menelaus’ hand. Paris himself, who had
not fought at all except to throw his spear, she caught up in a cloud and took back to Troy.
Furiously Menelaus went through the Trojan ranks seeking Paris and not a man there but would have
helped him for they all hated Paris, but he was gone no one knew how or where, So Agamemnon spoke to both
armies de with that Menelaus was victor and bidding the Trojans give Helen back. This was just, and the
Trojans would have agreed if Athena, at Hera’s prompting, had not interfered. Hera was determined that the war
should not end until Troy was ruined. Athena, sweeping down to the battlefield, persuaded the foolish heart of
Pandarus, a Trojan, to break the truce and shoot an arrow at Menelaus. He did so and wounded him, only
slightly, but the Greeks in rage at the treachery turned upon the Trojans and the battle was on again. Terror and
Destruction and Strife, whose fury never slackens, all friends of the murderous Wargod, were there to urge men
on to slaughter each other. Then the voice of groaning was heard and the voice of triumph from slayer and from
slain and the ear steamed with blood.
On the Greek side, with Achilles gone, the two greatest champions Were Ajax and Diomedes. They
fought gloriously that day and many a Trojan lay oy his face in the dust before them. The best and bravest next
to Hector, the Prince Aeneas, came near to death at Diomedes’ hands. He was of more than royal blood; his
mother was Aphrodite herself, and when Diomedes wounded him she hastened down to the battlefield to save
him. She lifted him in her soft arms, but Diomedes, knowing she was a coward goddess, not one of those who,
like Athena, are masters where warriors fight, leaped toward her and wounded her hand. Crying out she let
Aeneas fall, and weeping for pain made her way to Olympus, where Zeus smiling to see the laughter-loving
goddess in tears bade her stay away from battle and remember hers were the works of love and not of war. But
although his mother failed him Aeneas was not killed. Apollo enveloped him in a cloud and carried him to
sacred Pergamos, the holy place of Troy, where Artemis healed him of his wound.

22
 But Diomedes raged on, working havoc in the Trojan ranks until he came face to face with Hector.
There to his dismay he saw Ares too. The bloodstained murderous god of war was fighting for Hector. At the
sight Diomedes shuddered and cried to the Greeks to fall back, slowly, however, and with their faces toward the
Trojans. Then Hera was angry. She urged her horses to Olympus and asked Zeus if she might drive that bane of
men, Ares, from the battlefield. Zeus, who loved him no more than Hera did even though he was their son,
willingly gave her leave. She hastened down to stand beside Diomedes and urge him to smite the terrible god
and have no fear. At that, joy filled the hero’s heart. He rushed at Ares and hurled his spear at him. Athena
drove it home, and it entered Ares’ body. The War-god bellowed as loud as ten thousand cry in battle, and at the
awful sound trembling seized the whole host, Greeks and Trojans alike.
Ares, really a bully at heart and unable to bear what he brought upon unnumbered multitudes of men,
fled up to Zeus in Olympus and complained bitterly of Athena’s violence. But Zeus looked at him sternly and
told him he was as intolerable as his mother, and bade him cease his winning. With Ares gone, however, the
Trojans were forced to fall back. At this crisis a brother of Hector’s, wise in discerning the will of the gods,
urged Hector to go with all speed to the city and tell the Queen, his mother, to offer to Athena the most beautiful
robe she owned and pray her to have mercy. Hector felt the wisdom of the advice and sped through the gates to
the palace, where his mother did all as he said. She took a robe so precious that it shone like a star, and laying it
on the goddess’s knees she besought her: “Lady Athena, spare the city and the wives of the Trojans and the
little children.” But Pallas Athena denied the prayer.
As Hector went back to the battle he turned aside to see once more, perhaps for the last time, the wife
he tenderly loved, Andromache, and his son Astyanax. He met her on the wall where she had gone in terror to
watch the fighting when she heard the Trojans were in retreat. With her was a handmaid carrying the little boy.
Hector smiled and looked at them silently, but Andromache took his hand in hers and wept. “My dear lord,” she
said, “you who are father and mother and brother unto me as well as husband, stay here with us. Do not make
me a widow and your child an orphan.” He refused her gently. He could not be a coward, he said. It was for him
to fight always in the forefront of the battle. Yet she could know that he never forgot what her anguish would be
when he died. That was the thought that troubled him above all else, more than his many other cares. He turned
to leave her, but first he held out his arms to his son. Terrified the little boy shrank back, afraid of the helmet
and its fierce nodding crest. Hector laughed and took the shining helmet from his head. Then holding the child
in his arms he caressed him and prayed. “O Zeus, in after years may men say of this my son when he returns
from battle, ‘Far greater is he than his father was.”
So he laid the boy in his wife’s arms and she took him, smiling, yet with tears. And Hector pitied her
and touched her tenderly with his hand and spoke to her: “Dear one, be not so sorrowful. That which is fated
must come to pass, but against my fate no man can kill me.” Then taking up his helmet he left her and she went
to her house, often looking back at him and weeping bitterly.
Once again on the battlefield was eager for the fight, and better fortune for a time lay before him, Zeus
had by now remembered his promise to Thetis to avenge Achilles’ wrong. He ordered all the other immortals to
stay in Olympus he himself went down to earth to help the Trojans. Then it went hard with Greeks. The great
champion was faraway, Achilles sat alone in his tent, brooding over hi wrongs. The great Trojan champion had
never before shown himself so brilliant and so brave. Hector seemed irresistible. Tamer of horses, the Trojans
always called him, and he drove his car through the Greek ranks as if the same spit animated steeds and driver,
His glancing helm was everywhere and one gallant warrior after another fell beneath his terrible bronze spear.
Evening ended the battle; the Trojans had driven the Greeks back almost to their ships.
There was rejoicing in Troy that night, but grief and despair in the Greek camp. Agamemnon himself
was all for giving up and sailing back to Greece Nestor, however, who was the oldest among the chieftains and
therefore the wisest, wiser even than the shrewd Odysseus, spoke out boldly and told Agamemnon that if he had
not angered Achilles they would not have been defeated. “Try to find some way of appeasing him,” he said,
“instead of going home disgraced.” All applauded the advice and Agamemnon confessed that he had acted like
a fool. He would send Briseis back, he promised them, and with her many other splended gifts, and he begged
Odysseus to take his offer to Achilles.
Odysseus and the two chieftains chosen to accompany him found the hero with his friend Patroclus, who
of all men on earth was dearest to him. Achilles welcomed them courteously and set food and drink before
them, but when they told him why they had come and all the rich gifts that would be his if he would yield, and
begged him to have pity on his hard-pressed countrymen, they received an absolute refusal. Not all the treasures
of Egypt could buy him, he told them. He was sailing home and they would be wise to do the same.
But all rejected that counsel when Odysseus brought back the answer. The next day they went into
battle with the desperate courage of brave men cornered. Again they were driven back, until they stood fighting
on the beach where their ships were drawn up. But help was at hand. Hera had laid her plans. She saw Zeus
sitting on Mount Ida watching the Trojans conquer, and she thought how she detested him. But she knew well
that she could get the better of him only in one way. She must go to him looking so lovely that he could not
resist her. When he took her in his arms she would pour sweet slec upon him and he would forget the Trojans.
23
So she did. She went to her chamber and used every art she knew to make herself beautiful beyond compare.
Last of all she borrowed Aphrodite’s girdle wherein were all her enchantments, and with this added charm she
appeared before Zeus. As he saw her, love overcame his heart so that he thought no more of his promise to
Thetis.
At once the battle turned in favor of the Greeks. Ajax hurled Hector to the und, although before he could
wound him Aeneas lifted him and bore him away: With Hector gone, the Greeks were able to drive the Trojans
far back m the ships and Troy might have been sacked that very day if Zeus had not awakened. He leaped up
and saw the Trojans in flight and Hector lying gasping on the plain. All was clear to him and he turned fiercely
to Hera. This was her going, he said, her crafty, crooked ways. He was half-minded to give her then and there a
beating. When it came to that kind of fighting Hera knew she was helpless. She promptly denied that she had
had anything to do with the Trojans’ defeat. It was all Poseidon, she said, and indeed the Sea-god had been
helping the Greeks contrary to Zeus’s orders, but only because she had begged him. However, Zeus was glad
enough of an excuse not to lay hands on her. He sent per back to Olympus and summoned Iris, the rainbow
messenger, to carry his command to Poseidon to withdrew from the field. Sullenly the Sea-god obeyed and once
more the tide of battle turned against the Greeks.
Apollo had revived the fainting Hector and breathed into him surpassing power. Before the two, the god
and the hero, the Greeks were like a flock of frightened sheep driven by mountain lions. They fled in confusion
to the ships, and the wall they had built to defend them went down like a sand wall children heap up on the
shore and then scatter in their play. The Trojans were almost near enough to set the ships on fire. The Greeks,
hopeless, thought only of dying bravely.
Patroclus, Achilles’ beloved friend, saw the rout with horror. Not even for Achilles’ sake could he stay
longer away from the battle. “You can keep your wrath while your countrymen go down in ruin,” he cried to
Achilles. “I cannot. Give me your armor. If they think I am you, the Trojans may pause and the worn-out
Greeks have a breathing space. You and I are fresh. We might yet drive back the enemy. But if you will sit
nursing your anger, at least let me have the armor.” As he spoke one of the Greek ships burst into flame. “That
way they can cut off the Army’s retreat,” Achilles said, “Go. Take my armor, my men too, and defend the ships.
I cannot go. I am a man dishonored. For my own ships, if the battle comes near them, I will fight. I will not
fight for men who have disgraced me.”
So Patroclus put on the splendid armor all the Trojans knew and led the Myrmidons, Achilles’ men, to
the battle. At the first onset of this new band of warriors the Trojans wavered; they thought Achilles led on
them. And indeed for a time Patroclus fought as gloriously as that great he could have done. But at last he met
Hector face to face and his doom was sealed as surely as a boar is doomed when he faces a lion. Hector’s spear
gave him a mortal wound and his soul fled from his body down to the house of Hades. Then Hector stripped his
armor from him and casting his own aside, put it on. It seemed as though he had taken on, too, Achilles’
strength, and no man
of the Greeks could stand before him.
Evening came that puts an end to battle, Achilles sat by his tent Wai, Patroclus to retum. But instead he
saw old Nestor’s son running tow,, ‘ {eet-footed Antilochus. He was weeping hot tears as he ran. “Bitter tidings
cried out. “Patroclus is fallen and Hector has his armor.” Grief took}, Achilles, so black that those around him
feared for his life. Down in the sea caves his mother knew his sorrow and came up to try to comfort him. “I will
no longer live among men,” he told her, “if I do not make Hector pay with his death for Patroclus is dead.”
Then Thetis, weeping, bade him remember that he self was fated to die straightway after Hector. “So may I do,”
Achilles answered, “I who did not help my comrade in his sore need. I will kill the destroyer of him I loved;
then I will accept death when it comes.”
Thetis did not attempt to hold him back, “Only wait until morning,” said, “and you will not go unarmed
to battle. I will bring your arms fashioned by the divine armorer, the god Hephaestus himself.”
Marvelous arms they were when Thetis brought them, worthy of the maker, such as no man on earth had
ever borne. The Myrmidons gazed at them with awe and a flame of fierce joy blazed in Achilles’ eyes as he put
them. Then at last he left the tent in which he had sat so long, and went down to where the Greeks were
gathered, a wretched company, Diomedes grievously wound: Odysseus, Agamemnon, and many another. He
felt shame before them and told them he saw his own exceeding folly in allowing the loss of a mere girl to make
him forget everything else. But that was over; he was ready to lead the’ as before. Let them prepare at once for
the battle. The chieftains applaud’ joyfully, but Odysseus spoke for all when he said they must first take their
fill food and wine, for fasting men made poor fighters. “Our comrades lie dead on the field and you call to
food,” Achilles answered scornfully. “Down my throat shall go neither bite nor sup until my dear comrade is
avenged.” And to himself he said, “O dearest of friends, for want of you I cannot eat, I cannot drink.
When the others had satisfied their hunger he led the attack. This was the fast fight between the two
great champions, as all the immortals knew, They also knew how it would turn out, Father Zeus hung his golden
balances and set in one the lot of Hector’s death and in the other that of Achilles, Hector’s lot sank down. It was
appointed that he should die.
24
 Nevertheless, the victory was long in doubt. The Trojans under Hector fought as brave men fight before
the walls of their home. Even the great river of Troy, which the gods call Xanthus and men Scamander, took
part. and strove to drown Achilles as he crossed its waters, In vain, for nothing could check him as he rushed on
slaughtering all in his path and seeking everywhere for Hector, The gods by now were fighting, too, as hotly as
the men, and Zeus sitting apart in Olympus laughed pleasantly to himself when he saw god matched against
god: Athena felling Arcs to the ground; Hera seizing the bow of Artemis from her shoulders and boxing her ears
with it this way and that; Poseidon provoking Apollo with taunting words to strike him first. The Sun-god
refused the challenge. He knew it was of no use now to fight for Hector.
By this time the gates, the great Scaean gates of Troy, had been flung wide, for the Trojans at last were
in full flight and were crowding into the town. Only Hector stood immovable before the wall. From the gates,
old Priam, his father, and his mother Hecuba cried to him to come within and save himself, but he did not heed.
He was thinking, “I led the Trojans. Their defeat is my fault. Then am I to spare myself? And yet—what if I
were to lay down shield and spear and go tell Achilles that we will give Helen back and half of Troy’s treasures
with her? Useless. He would but kill me unarmed as if I were a woman. Better to join battle with him now even
if I die.”
On came Achilles, glorious as the sun when he rises. Beside him was Athena, but Hector was alone.
Apollo had left him to his fate. As the pair drew near he turned and fled. Three times around the wall of Troy
pursued and pursuer ran with flying feet. It was Athena who made Hector halt. She appeared beside him in the
shape of his brother, Deiphobus, and with this ally as he thought, Hector faced Achilles. He cried out to him,
“If1 kill you I will give back your body to your friends and do you do the same to me.” But Achilles answered,
“Madman. There are no covenants between sheep and wolves, not between you and me.” So saying he hurled
his spear. It missed its aim, but Athena brought it back. Then Hector struck with a true aim; the spear hit the
center of Achilles’ shield. But to what good? That armor was magical and could not be pierced. He turned
quickly to Deiphobus to get his spear, but he was not there. Then Hector knew the truth. Athena had tricked him
and there was no way of escape. “The gods have summoned me to death,” he thought. “At least I will not die
without a struggle, but in some great deed of arms which men yet to be born will tell each other.” He drew his
sword, his only weapon now, and rushed upon his enemy. But Achilles had a spear, the one Athena had
recovered for him. Before Hector could approach, he who knew well that armor taken Hector from the dead
Patroclus aimed at an opening in it near the throat, an f drove the spearpoint in. Hector fell, dying at last. With
his last breath he prayed “Give back my body to my father and my mother.” “No prayers from you to me, you
dog,” Achilles answered. “I would that I could make myself devour raw your flesh for the evil you have brought
upon me.” Then Hector’s soul flew, forth from his body and was gone to Hades, bewailing his fate, leaving
vigor and youth behind.
Achilles stripped the bloody armor from the corpse while the Greeks rap up to wonder how tall he was
as he lay there and how noble to look upon. But Achilles’ mind was on other matters, He pierced the feet of the
dead man and fastened them with thongs to the back of his chariot, letting the head trail. Then he lashed his
horses and round and round the walls of Troy he dragged all that was left of glorious Hector.
At last when his fierce soul was satisfied with vengeance he stood beside the body of Patroclus and said,
“Hear me even in the house of Hades. I have dragged Hector behind my chariot and I will give him to the dogs
to devour beside your funeral pyre”.
Up in Olympus there was dissension. This abuse of the dead displeased all the immortals except Hera
and Athena and Poseidon. Especially it displeased Zeus. He sent Iris to Priam, to order him to go without fear to
Achilles to redeem Hector’s body, bearing a rich ransom. She was to tell him that violent as Achilles was, he
was not really evil, but one who would treat properly a suppliant.
Then the aged King heaped a car with splendid treasures, the best in Troy, and went over the plain to the
Greek camp. Hermes met him, looking like a Greek youth and offering himself as a guide to Achilles’ tent. So
accompanied the old man passed the guards and came into the presence of the man who had killed and
maltreated his son. He clasped his knees and kissed his hands and as he did so Achilles felt awe and so did all
the others there, looking strangely upon one another. “Remember, Achilles,” Priam said, “your own father, of
like years with me wretched for want of a son. Yet I am by far more to be pitied who have braved what man on
earth ever did before, to stretched out my hand to slayer of my son.
Grief stirred within Achilles’ heart as he listened. Gently he raised the old man. “Sit by me here,” he
said, ‘and let our sorrow lie quiet in our hearts. Evil is all men’s lot, but yet we must keep courage.” Then he
bade his servants wash and anoint Hector’s body and cover it with a soft robe, so that Priam should not see it,
frightfully mangled as it was, and be unable to keep back his wrath. He feared for his own self-control if Priam
vexed him. “How many days do you desire to make his funeral?” he asked. “For so long I will keep the Greeks
back from battle.” Then Priam brought Hector home, mourned in Troy as never snother. Even Helen wept. “The
other Trojans upbraid me,” she said, “but always I had comfort from you through the gentleness of your spirit
and your gentle words. You only were my friend.”

25
 Nine days they lamented him; then they laid him on a lofty pyre and set fire sit, When all was burned
they quenched the flame with wine and gathered the bones into a golden urn, shrouding them in soft purple.
They set the urn in a hollow grave and piled great stones over it.
This was the funeral of Hector, tamer of horses.
And with it the Iliad ends.

References:
1. Alcantara, R. et al., (2000). World Literature. Philippines: Katha Publishing Co. Inc.,
2. Bascara, L. (2003). Literature of the World. Philippines:Rex Bookstore, Inc.,
3. Garcia, C. et al., (2006). A Study of Literary Types and Forms. Revised Edition. Philippines:UST Publishing
House.
4. Lacia, F. C. 2003. The Literature of the World. Philippines: Rex Bookstore, Inc.
5. Javines, F.(1997). English Literature. Philippines: Rex Bookstore, Inc.
6. Sialongo, E. et al., (2007). Literature of the World. Philippines: Rex Bookstore, Inc.
8. Ampo, M. (2017). Syllabus: World Literature, AY. 2018-2019.

FORMATIVE EXAM NO. 4

Name: ____________________________________________ Score: ______________

Year/Section: _____________________________ Date: _______________

Directions: Answer the following questions. Please write legibly.

1. Narrate the judgment of Paris which was fames everywhere as the real reason why the Trojan War was
fought?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
2. Why were Odysseus and Achilles reluctant to join the chieftains in laying Troy in ashes?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________

26
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
3. What sacrifice did Agamemnon do for his country ?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
4. Explain why Achilles withdrew from battle?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________
5. Whose plan was the Trojan horse?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Name: _______________________________ Date: ____________

Course: _______________________________ ELEC 101(Module 2)

SUMMATIVE TEST

Please answer the following questions comprehensively. Please write legibly.

Part I- The following question is related to the epic “The Story of the Flood”.

1. Gilgamesh is a hero on a quest for eternal life. Think of a modern-day hero- from the movies, television,
or fiction-who also journeys in search of a goal. Write an essay comparing and contrasting Gilgamesh to
this modern hero. Consider such factors as the nature of the goal, the difficulties that must be overcome,
the help, if any, that the hero receives, and the hero’s ultimate success or failure.
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________

27
 ____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________

Part II- The following question is related to the epic “The Story of the Flood”.
1. Gilgamesh is a hero on a quest for eternal life. Think of a modern-day hero- from the movies, television,
or fiction-who also journeys in search of a goal. Write an essay comparing and contrasting Gilgamesh to
this modern hero. Consider such factors as the nature of the goal, the difficulties that must be overcome,
the help, if any, that the hero receives, and the hero’s ultimate success or failure.
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________

Part III- The following question is related to the story “Sibi ” From The Mahabharata adapted by R.I.
Narayan.
1. Sacrifice involves giving up something important for a goal that is even more important. In this story
Sibi is willing to sacrifice his well- being and even in his life for his integrity. Describe a sacrifice that
someone you have read about, someone you know, or you yourself have undertaken. Write about it.
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________

Part IV- The following questions is related to the selection “The Trojan War” or “The Burning of Rome”
1. Write a review about the selection “The Trojan War” or “The Burning of Rome”. Choose only (1)
selection.
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
28
 ____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________________________

Rubric for Essay:

Content – 5
Organization – 3
Writing conventions – 2
10 pts

29