The Iliad, Homer [librera reader .TXT] 📗

pace, And, dealing woe to man, o’er all the earth Before them flies: they, following, heal her wounds.

Him who with honour welcomes their approach, They greatly aid, and hear him when he prays; But who rejects, and sternly casts them off, To Saturn’s son they go, and make their pray’r That Ate follow him and claim her dues.

Then to the daughters of immortal Jove, Do thou, Achilles, show the like respect, That many another brave man’s heart hath sway’d.

If to thy tent no gifts Atrides brought, With promises of more, but still retain’d His vehement enmity, I could not ask

That thou thy cherish’d anger shouldst discard, And aid the Greeks, how great so-e’er their need.

But now large off’rings hath he giv’n, and more Hath promis’d; and, of all the Greeks, hath sent To pray thine aid, the men thou lov’st the best.

Discredit not their mission, nor their words.

Till now, I grant thee, none could blame thy wrath.

In praise of men in ancient days renown’d, This have we heard, that how-so-e’er might rage Their hostile feuds, their anger might be still By gifts averted, and by words appeas’d.

One case I bear in mind, in times long past, And not in later days; and here, ‘mid friends, How all occurr’d, will I at length recite.

Time was, that with AEtolia’s warlike bands Round Calydon the Acarnanians fought

With mutual slaughter; these to save the town, The Acarnanians burning to destroy.

This curse of war the golden-throned Queen Diana sent, in anger that from her

OEneus the first-fruits of his field withheld.

The other Gods their hecatombs receiv’d; Diana’s shrine alone no off’rings deck’d, Neglected, or o’erlook’d; the sin was great; And in her wrath the arrow-darting Queen A savage wild-boar sent, with gleaming tusks, Which OEneus’ vineyard haunting, wrought him harm.

There laid he prostrate many a stately tree, With root and branch, with blossom and with fruit.

Him Meleager, son of OEneus, slew,

With youths and dogs from all the neighbouring towns Collected; smaller force had not avail’d, So huge he was, so fierce; and many a youth Had by his tusks been laid upon the bier.

A fierce contention then the Goddess rais’d, For the boar’s head and bristly hide, between The Acarnanian and th’ AEtolian bands.

While warlike Meleager kept the field, So long the Acarnanians far’d but ill; Nor dar’d, despite the numbers of their host, Maintain their ground before the city walls.

When he to anger yielded, which sometimes Swells in the bosom e’en of wisest men, Incens’d against his mother, he withdrew To Cleopatra fair, his wedded wife;

(Marpessa her, Evenus’ daughter, bore

To Idas, strongest man of all who then Were living, who against Apollo’s self For the neat-footed maiden bent his bow.

Her parents call’d the child Alcyone,

In mem’ry of the tears her mother shed, Rival of Alcyon’s melancholy fate,

When by far-darting Phoebus forc’d away).

With her, retiring from the field, he nurs’d His wrath; resenting thus his mother’s curse, Althaea; she her brother’s death bore hard, And pray’d to Heav’n above, and with her hands Beating the solid earth, the nether pow’rs, Pluto and awful Proserpine, implor’d,

Down on her knees, her bosom wet with tears, Death on her son invoking; from the depths Of Erebus Erinnys heard her pray’r,

Gloom-haunting Goddess, dark and stern of heart.

Soon round the gates the din of battle rose, The tow’rs by storm assaulted; then his aid Th’ AEtonian Elders and the sacred priests With promises of great reward implor’d.

A fruitful plot they bade him set apart, The richest land in lovely Calydon,

Of fifty acres: half for vineyard meet, And half of fertile plain, for tillage clear’d.

Upon the threshold of his lofty rooms

Old OEneus stood, and at the portals clos’d He knock’d in vain, a suppliant to his son.

His sisters and his brother join’d their pray’rs, But sterner his rejection of their suit; The friends he valued most, and lov’d the best, Yet they too fail’d his fix’d resolve to shake; Till to his very doors the war had reach’d, The foe upon the tow’rs, the town in flames: Then Meleager’s beauteous wife, at length, In tears, beseeching him, the thousand ills Recall’d, which on a captur’d town attend; The slaughter’d men, the city burnt with fire, The helpless children and deep-bosom’d dames A prey to strangers. List’ning to the tale, His spirit was rous’d within him; and again He took the field, and donn’d his glitt’ring arms.

Thus did his act from doom th’ AEtolians save Spontaneous; yet he gain’d not, though he sav’d, The rich reward they once were pledg’d to give.

But be not thou like him, nor let thy God Turn thitherward thy thoughts; our ships on fire, Thine aid will less be priz’d; come, take the gifts, And as a God be honour’d by the Greeks.

If thou hereafter, unsolicited,

The battle join, the Greeks thou mayst protect, But not an equal share of honour gain.”

 

Whom answer’d thus Achilles, swift of foot: “Phoenix, my second father, rev’rend sire, Such honours move me not; my honour comes From Jove, whose will it is that I should here Remain beside the ships, while I retain Breath in my lungs and vigour in my limbs.

This too I say, and bear it in thy mind: Disturb me not with weeping and complaints, To do Atrides grace; if him thou love, My love for thee perchance may turn to hate: My friend should honour him who honours me.

But come with me, and of my kingdom half, And equal honours shalt thou share with me.

These shall our message bear; stay thou the while, And on soft couch repose; to-morrow morn Will we determine or to sail or stay.”

 

He said, and with his eyebrows gave a sign In silence to Patroclus, to prepare

A bed for Phoenix, that without delay

The rest might leave the tent; then thus began Ajax, the godlike son of Telamon:

“Ulysses sage, Laertes’ highborn son, Depart we now; for this way our discourse Can lead to no result; behoves us bear Our tidings, all unwelcome as they are, Back to the chiefs awaiting our return.

Achilles hath allow’d his noble heart

To cherish rancour and malignant hate; Nor reeks he of his old companions’ love, Wherewith we honour’d him above the rest.

Relentless he! a son’s or brother’s death, By payment of a fine, may be aton’d;

The slayer may remain in peace at home, The debt discharg’d; the other will forego, The forfeiture receiv’d, his just revenge; But thou maintain’st a stern, obdurate mood.

And for a single girl! we offer sev’n, Surpassing fair, and other gifts to boot.

We now bespeak thy courtesy; respect

Thy hearth; remember that beneath thy roof We stand, deputed by the gen’ral voice Of all the host; and fain would claim to be, Of all the Greeks, thy best and dearest friends.”

 

Whom answer’d thus Achilles, swift of foot: “Illustrious Ajax, son of Telamon,

Without offence hast thou thy message giv’n; But fury fills my soul, whene’er I think How Agamemnon, ‘mid th’ assembled Greeks, Insulting, held me forth to public scorn, As some dishonour’d, houseless vagabond.

But go ye now, and bear my answer back: No more in bloody war will I engage,

Till noble Hector, Priam’s godlike son, O’er slaughter’d Greeks, your ships enwrapp’d in fire, Shall reach the quarters of the Myrmidons.

Ere he assail my ship and tents, I think That Hector, valiant as he is, will pause.”

Thus he: they each the double goblet rais’d, And, to the Gods their due libations pour’d, Ulysses leading, to the ships return’d.

 

Meanwhile Patroclus bade th’ attendant maids Prepare a bed for Phoenix; they obey’d, And quickly laid the bed with fleeces warm, And rugs, and linen light and fine o’erspread.

There slept th’ old man, and waited for the morn.

Within the tent’s recess Achilles slept; And by his side, from Lesbos captive brought, Daughter of Phorbas, Diomede fair;

On th’ other side Patroclus lay; with him The graceful Iphis, whom, when Scyros’ isle He captur’d, and Enyes’ rock-built fort, Achilles to his lov’d companion gave.

 

When to Atrides’ tent the envoys came, The chiefs, uprising, pledg’d them one by one In golden goblets; then their tidings ask’d.

First Agamemnon, King of men, enquir’d: “Tell me, renown’d Ulysses, pride of Greece, What says he: will he save our ships from fire, Or still, in wrathful mood, withhold his aid?”

 

To whom again Ulysses, stout of heart: “Most mighty Agamemnon, King of men,

His anger is not quench’d, but fiercer still It glows; thy gifts and thee alike he spurns; He bids thee with the other chiefs concert The means thy people and thy ships to save; And menaces himself at early dawn

To launch his well-trimm’d vessels on the main.

Nay more, he counsels others, so he says, Homeward to turn, since here of lofty Troy We see not yet the end; all-seeing Jove O’er her extends his hand; on him relying, Her people all with confidence are fill’d.

Such was his language; here before you stand Ajax and both the heralds, sage, grave men, Who with me went, and will confirm my words.

Old Phoenix left we there, so will’d the chief, That with the morrow he with him may sail, And seek their native land, if so he will; For not by force will he remove him hence.”

 

Ulysses thus; they all in silence heard, Amaz’d, so stern the message that he bore.

Long time in silence sat the chiefs of Greece.

Outspoke at length the valiant Diomed: “Most mighty Agamemnon, King of men,

Would that thou ne’er hadst stoop’d with costly gifts To sue for aid from Peleus’ matchless son; For he before was over-proud, and now

Thine offers will have tenfold swoll’n his pride.

But leave we him, according to his will, To go or stay: he then will join the fight, When his own spirit shall prompt, or Heav’n inspire.

But hear ye all, and do as I advise:

Refresh’d with food and wine (for therein lie Both strength and courage), turn we to our rest; And when the rosy-finger’d morn appears, Thyself among the foremost, with bold hearts, Before our ships both horse and foot array.”

 

He said; and all the chiefs with loud applause His speech confirm’d; then, due libations pour’d, Each to his sev’ral tent they all withdrew; Then laid them down, and sought the boon of sleep.

 

ARGUMENT.

 

THE NIGHT ADVENTURE OF DIOMED AND ULYSSES.

 

Upon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, the distress of Agamemnon is described in the most lively manner. He takes no rest that night, but passes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and contriving all possible methods for the public safety. Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses, and Diomed, are employed in raising the rest of the captains. They call a council of war, and determine to send scouts into the enemy’s camp, to learn their posture, and discover their intentions. Diomed undertakes the hazardous enterprise, and makes choice of Ulysses for his companion. In their passage they surprise Dolon, whom Hector had sent on a like design to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are informed of the situation of the Trojans and auxiliary forces, and particularly of Rhesus, and the Thracians, who were lately arrived.

They pass on with success; kill Rhesus with several of his officers, and seize the famous horses of that prince, with which they return in triumph to the camp.

 

The same night continues; the scene lies in the two camps.

 

BOOK X.

 

In night-long slumbers lay the other chiefs Of all the Greeks, by gentle sleep subdued; But not on Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,

By various cares oppress’d, sweet slumber fell.

As when from Jove, the