Monday Mornings: Agamemnon's morning ritual

Having to wake up at 6:00AM sucks, but it's  less of a hassle when you consider that this has been going on for centuries

Agamemnon being woken up by Dream

Agamemnon has a bit of a restless sleep: he gets a message from the gods in his dreams that professes to him that Greeks would win. Having been disturbed from his sleep, he wakes up rather quickly and immediately puts on his equipment. Agamemnon is not the type of guy that presses snooze five times in a row. Only do we still need to question whether this was due to the influence of the intervening dream.

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπεβήσετο, τὸν δὲ λίπ᾽ αὐτοῦ                              
τὰ φρονέοντ᾽ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἅ ῥ᾽ οὐ τελέεσθαι ἔμελλον:
φῆ γὰρ ὅ γ᾽ αἱρήσειν Πριάμου πόλιν ἤματι κείνῳ            
νήπιος, οὐδὲ τὰ ᾔδη ἅ ῥα Ζεὺς μήδετο ἔργα:
θήσειν γὰρ ἔτ᾽ ἔμελλεν ἐπ᾽ ἄλγεά τε στοναχάς τε
Τρωσί τε καὶ Δαναοῖσι διὰ κρατερὰς ὑσμίνας.                 
                                                               

After the Dream had thus spoken, she went off and left him there,
he who was overthinking throughout his heart the wishes that weren’t destined to be granted:
for the fool thought he could subdue Priam’s city on that very day,
nor did he have any clue of the matters Zeus was plotting:
for the god was planning to place upon the Trojans and Greeks alike
both suffering and bewailing throughout the course of this mighty battle.

ἔγρετο δ᾽ ἐξ ὕπνου, θείη δέ μιν ἀμφέχυτ᾽ ὀμφή:                              
ἕζετο δ᾽ ὀρθωθείς, μαλακὸν δ᾽ ἔνδυνε χιτῶνα                  
καλὸν νηγάτεον, περὶ δὲ μέγα βάλλετο φᾶρος:                               
ποσσὶ δ᾽ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,                              
ἀμφὶ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὤμοισιν βάλετο ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον:                              
εἵλετο δὲ σκῆπτρον πατρώϊον ἄφθιτον αἰεὶ                       
σὺν τῷ ἔβη κατὰ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων:
 

Agamemnon woke up from his slumber, and the godly voice of Dream was done pouring over him. Immediately, he sits upright and puts on his soft chiton,

fair and bright, and casts on a big cloak around it:
he ties stunning sandals beneath his glittering feet:
around his shoulders, he flung his silver-studded sword
and he took up his sceptre, once his father’s, imperishable
with which he always went to the ships of the bronze-clad Greeks.

My morning song

Luckily, I am not woken up by god sent deams in the morning. Instead, my phone's alarm plays this song :)