The Iliad, Homer [librera reader .TXT] 📗

on the car: Beside her Iris stood, and took the reins, And urg’d the coursers; nothing loth they flew, And soon to high Olympus, seat of Gods, They came: swift Iris there the coursers stay’d, Loos’d from the chariot, and before them plac’d Ambrosial forage: on her mother’s lap, Dione, Venus fell; she in her arms

Embrac’d, and sooth’d her with her hand, and said: “Which of the heav’nly pow’rs hath wrong’d thee thus, My child, as guilty of some open shame?”

 

Whom answer’d thus the laughter-loving Queen; “The haughty son of Tydeus, Diomed,

Hath wounded me, because my dearest son, AEneas, from the field I bore away.

No more ‘twixt Greeks and Trojans is the fight, But with the Gods themselves the Greeks contend.”

To whom Dione, heav’nly Goddess, thus: “Have patience, dearest child; though much enforc’d, Restrain thine anger: we, in Heav’n who dwell, Have much to bear from mortals; and ourselves Too oft upon each other suff’rings lay.

Mars had his suff’rings; by Aloeus’ sons, Otus and Ephialtes, strongly bound,

He thirteen months in brazen fetters lay: And there had pin’d away the God of War, Insatiate Mars, had not their step-mother, The beauteous Eriboea, sought the aid

Of Hermes; he by stealth releas’d the God, Sore worn and wasted by his galling chains.

Juno too suffer’d, when Amphitryon’s son Through her right breast a three-barb’d arrow sent: Dire, and unheard of, were the pangs she bore.

Great Pluto’s self the stinging arrow felt, When that same son of aegis-bearing Jove Assail’d him in the very gates of hell, And wrought him keenest anguish; pierc’d with pain To high Olympus, to the courts of Jove, Groaning, he came; the bitter shaft remain’d Deep in his shoulder fix’d, and griev’d his soul.

But soon with soothing ointments Paeon’s hand (For death on him was powerless) heal’d the wound.

Accurs’d was he, of daring overbold,

Reckless of evil deeds, who with his bow Assail’d the Gods, who on Olympus dwell.

The blue-ey’d Pallas, well I know, has urg’d Tydides to assail thee; fool and blind!

Unknowing he how short his term of life Who fights against the Gods! for him no child Upon his knees shall lisp a father’s name, Safe from the war and battle-field return’d.

Brave as he is, let Diomed beware

He meet not some more dangerous foe than thee.

Then fair AEgiale, Adrastus’ child,

The noble wife of valiant Diomed,

Shall long, with lamentations loud, disturb The slumbers of her house, and vainly mourn Her youthful Lord, the bravest of the Greeks.”

 

She said; and wip’d the ichor from, the wound; he hand was heal’d, the grievous pains allay’d.

But Juno and Minerva, looking on,

With words of bitter mock’ry Saturn’s son Provok’d: and thus the blue-ey’d Goddess spoke: “O Father! may I speak without offence?

Venus, it seems, has sought to lead astray Some Grecian woman, and persuade to join Those Trojans, whom she holds in high esteem; And, as her hand the gentle dame caress’d, A golden clasp has scratched her slender arm.”

 

Thus she: and smil’d the Sire of Gods and men; He call’d the golden Venus to his side, And, “Not to thee, my child,” he said, “belong The deeds of war; do thou bestow thy care On deeds of love, and tender marriage ties; But leave to Mars and Pallas feats of arms.”

 

Such converse while they held, brave Diomed Again assail’d AEneas; well he knew

Apollo’s guardian hand around him thrown; Yet by the God undaunted, on he press’d To slay AEneas, and his arms obtain.

Thrice was his onset made, with murd’rous aim; And thrice Apollo struck his glitt’ring shield; But when, with godlike force, he sought to make His fourth attempt, the Far-destroyer spoke In terms of awful menace: “Be advis’d, Tydides, and retire; nor as a God

Esteem thyself; since not alike the race Of Gods immortal and of earth-born men.”

 

He said; and Diomed a little space

Before the Far-destroyer’s wrath retir’d: Apollo then AEneas bore away

Far from the tumult; and in Pergamus,

Where stood his sacred shrine, bestow’d him safe.

Latona there, and Dian, Archer-Queen,

In the great temple’s innermost recess, Gave to his wounds their care, and sooth’d his pride.

Meanwhile Apollo of the silver bow

A phantom form prepar’d, the counterpart Of great AEneas, and alike in arms:

Around the form, of Trojans and of Greeks, Loud was the din of battle; fierce the strokes That fell on rounded shield of tough bull’s-hide, And lighter targe, before each warrior’s breast.

Then thus Apollo to the God of War:

“Mars! Mars! thou bane of mortals, blood-stain’d Lord, Razer of cities, wer’t not well thyself To interpose, and from the battle-field Withdraw this chief, Tydides? such his pride, He now would dare with Jove himself to fight.

Venus, of late, he wounded in the wrist; And, like a God, but now confronted me.”

He said, and sat on Ilium’s topmost height: While Mars, in likeness of the Thracian chief, Swift Acamas, amid the Trojan ranks

Mov’d to and fro, and urg’d them to the fight.

To Priam’s Heav’n-descended sons he call’d; “Ye sons of Priam, Heav’n-descended King, How long will ye behold your people slain?

Till to your very doors the war be brought?

AEneas, noble-soul’d Anchises’ son,

In like esteem with Hector held, is down; On to his aid! our gallant comrade save!”

 

He said; his words fresh courage gave to all: Then thus Sarpedon, in reproachful tone, Address’d the godlike Hector; “Where is now, Hector, the spirit that heretofore was thine?

‘Twas once thy boast that ev’n without allies Thyself, thy brethren, and thy house, alone The city could defend: for all of these I look in vain, and see not one; they all, As curs around a lion, cow’r and crouch: We, strangers and allies, maintain the fight.

I to your aid, from lands afar remote, From Lycia came, by Xanthus’ eddying stream; There left a cherish’d wife, and infant son, And rich possessions, which might envy move; Yet I my troops encourage; and myself

Have play’d my part, though nought have I to lose, Nought that the Greeks could drive or bear away; But thou stand’st idly by; nor bidd’st the rest Maintain their ground, and guard their wives and homes.

Beware lest ye, as in the meshes caught Of some wide-sweeping net, become the prey And booty of your foes, who soon shall lay Your prosp’rous city level with the dust.

By day and night should this thy thoughts engage, With constant pray’r to all thy brave allies, Firmly to stand, and wipe this shame away.”

 

He said; and Hector felt the biting speech; Down from his car he leap’d; and through the ranks, Two jav’lins brandishing, he pass’d, to arms Exciting all, and rais’d his battle-cry.

The tide was turn’d; again they fac’d the Greeks: In serried ranks the Greeks, undaunted, stood.

As when the wind from off a threshing-floor, Where men are winnowing, blows the chaff away; When yellow Ceres with the breeze divides The corn and chaff, which lies in whit’ning heaps; So thick the Greeks were whiten’d o’er with dust, Which to the brazen vault of Heav’n arose Beneath the horses’ feet, that with the crowd Were mingled, by their drivers turn’d to flight.

Unwearied still, they bore the brunt; but Mars The Trojans succouring, the battle-field Veil’d in thick clouds, from ev’ry quarter brought.

Thus he of Phoebus of the golden sword Obey’d th’ injunction, bidding him arouse The courage of the Trojans, when he saw Pallas approaching to support the Greeks.

 

Then from the wealthy shrine Apollo’s self AEneas brought, and vigour fresh infus’d: Amid his comrades once again he stood; They joy’d to see him yet alive, and sound, And full of vigour; yet no question ask’d: No time for question then, amid the toils Impos’d by Phoebus of the silver bow,

And blood-stain’d Mars, and Discord unappeas’d.

 

Meanwhile Ulysses, and th’ Ajaces both, And Diomed, with courage for the fight The Grecian force inspir’d; they undismay’d Shrank not before the Trojans’ rush and charge; In masses firm they stood, as when the clouds Are gather’d round the misty mountain top By Saturn’s son, in breathless calm, while sleep The force of Boreas and the stormy winds, That with their breath the shadowy clouds disperse; So stood the Greeks, nor shunn’d the Trojans’ charge.

Through all the army Agamemnon pass’d, And cried, “Brave comrades, quit ye now like men; Bear a stout heart; and in the stubborn fight, Let each to other mutual succour give; By mutual succour more are sav’d than fall; In timid flight nor fame nor safety lies.”

 

Thus he: and straight his jav’lin threw, and struck A man of mark, AEneas’ faithful friend, Deicoon, the son of Pergasus,

By Troy, as ever foremost in the field, In equal honour held with Priam’s sons.

His shield the monarch Agamemnon struck; The shield’s defence was vain; the spear pass’d through Beneath the belt, and in his groin was lodg’d; Thund’ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.

 

On th’ other side, AEneas slew two chiefs, The bravest of the Greeks, Orsilochus

And Crethon, sons of Diocles, who dwelt In thriving Phera; rich in substance he, And from the mighty River Alpheus trac’d His high descent, who through the Pylian land His copious waters pours; to him was born Orsilochus, of num’rous tribes the chief; To him succeeded valiant Diocles;

To whom were born twin sons, Orsilochus And Crethon, skill’d in ev’ry point of war.

They, in the vigour of their youth, to Troy Had sail’d amid the dark-ribb’d ships of Greece, Of Atreus’ sons the quarrel to uphold; But o’er them both the shades of death were spread.

As two young lions, by their tawny dam Nurs’d in the mountain forest’s deep recess, On flocks and herds their youthful fury pour, With havoc to the sheepfolds, till themselves Succumb, o’ermaster’d by the hand of man: So fell these two beneath AEneas’ hand, And like two lofty pines in death they lay.

 

The warlike Menelaus saw their fall

With pitying eye; and through the foremost ranks With brandish’d spear advanc’d, by Mars impell’d, Who hop’d his death by great AEneas’ hand.

Him Nestor’s son, Antilochus, beheld,

And hasten’d to his aid; for much he fear’d Lest ill befall the monarch, and his death Deprive them of their warlike labours’ fruit.

They two, with force combined of hand and spear, Press’d onward to the fight; Antilochus His station keeping close beside the King.

Before the two combined, AEneas fear’d, Bold warrior as he was, to hold his ground.

The slain they drew within the Grecian lines, Placed in their comrades’ hands, and turning back Amid the foremost mingled in the fray.

Then, brave as Mars, Pylaemenes they slew, The buckler’d Paphlagonians’ warlike chief; Him Menelaus, hand to hand engag’d,

Pierc’d with a spear-thrust through the collar-bone; While, with a pond’rous stone, Antilochus Full on the elbow smote Atymnius’ son, Mydon, his charioteer, in act to turn

His fiery steeds to flight; down from his hands Fell to the ground the iv’ry-mounted reins.

On rush’d Antilochus, and with his sword Across the temples smote him; gasping, he Upon his neck and shoulders from the car Pitch’d headlong; and (for there the sand was deep) Awhile stood balanc’d, till the horses’ feet Dash’d him upon the ground; Antilochus, The horses seizing, drove them to the ships.

 

Hector beheld athwart the ranks, and rush’d, Loud shouting, to th’ encounter; at his back Follow’d the thronging bands of Troy, by Mars And fierce Bellona led; she by the hand Wild Uproar held; while Mars a giant spear Brandish’d aloft: and stalking now before, Now following after Hector, urg’d them on.

Quail’d at the sight the valiant Diomed: As when a man, long journeying o’er the plain, All unprepar’d, stands sudden on the