The Iliad, Homer [librera reader .TXT] 📗

with ample dow’r enrich’d, Echecles, son of Actor, bore away;

While him the aged Phylas kept, and nurs’d With tender care, and cherish’d—as his own.

The brave Peisander, son of Maemalus,

The third commanded; of the Myrmidons, Next to Pelides’ friend, the noblest spear.

The fourth, the aged warrior Phoenix led; The fifth, Alcimedon, Laerces’ son:

These in their order due Achilles first Array’d, and next with stirring words address’d: “Ye Myrmidons, forget not now the vaunts Which, while my wrath endur’d, ye largely pour’d Upon the Trojans; me ye freely blam’d; ‘Ill-omen’d son of Peleus, sure in wrath Thou wast conceiv’d, implacable, who here In idleness enforc’d thy comrades keep’st!

‘Twere better far our homeward way to take, If such pernicious rancour fill thy soul!’

Thus ye reproach’d me oft! Lo! now ye have The great occasion which your souls desir’d!

Then on, and with brave hearts the Trojans meet!”

 

His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast, And more compact, beneath their monarch’s eye, Their ranks were form’d; as when the builder lays The closely-fitting stones, to form the wall Of some great house, and brave the winds of Heav’n; So close were fitted helm and bossy shield; Buckler on buckler press’d, and helm on helm, And man on man; the horsehair plumes above, That nodded, fearful, from the warriors’ brows, Each other touch’d; so closely mass’d they stood.

Before them all stood prominent in arms Two chiefs, Patroclus and Automedon,

Both with one thought possess’d, to lead the fight In the fore-front of all the Myrmidons.

Achilles then within his tent withdrew, And of a gorgeous coffer rais’d the lid, Well-wrought, by silver-footed Thetis plac’d On board his ship, and fill’d with rich attire, With store of wind-proof cloaks, and carpets soft.

There lay a goblet, richly chas’d, whence none, But he alone, might drink the ruddy wine, Nor might libations thence to other Gods Be made, save only Jove: this brought he forth, And first with sulphur purified, and next Wash’d with pure water; then his hands he wash’d, And drew the ruddy wine; then standing forth Made in the centre of the court his pray’r, And as he pour’d the wine, look’d up to Heav’n, Not unbeheld of Jove, the lightning’s Lord: “Great King, Dodona’s Lord, Pelasgian Jove, Who dwell’st on high, and rul’st with sov’reign sway Dodona’s wintry heights; where dwell around Thy Sellian priests, men of unwashen feet, That on the bare ground sleep; thou once before Hast heard my pray’r, and me with honour crown’d, And on the Greeks inflicted all thy plagues; Hear yet again, and this my boon accord.

I ‘mid the throng of ships myself remain; But with a num’rous force of Myrmidons I send my comrade in my stead to fight: On him, all-seeing Jove, thy favour pour; Strengthen his heart, that Hector’s self may learn If, e’en alone, my follower knows to fight, Or only then resistless pow’r displays, When I myself the toil of battle share.

And from our vessels when the foe is driv’n, Grant that with all his arms and comrades true He may in safety to the ships return.”

 

Thus pray’d he; Jove, the Lord of counsel, heard, And half his pray’r he granted, half denied: For from the ships the battle to repel He granted; but denied his safe return.

His pray’rs and off’rings ended, to the tent Achilles turn’d again, and in the chest Replac’d the cup; then issuing forth, he stood Before the tent; for much he long’d to see The Greeks and Trojans join in battle strife.

They who in arms round brave Patroclus stood Their line of battle form’d, with courage high To dash upon the Trojans; and as wasps That have their nest beside the public road, Which boys delight to vex and irritate In wanton play, but to the gen’ral harm; Them if some passing trav’ller unawares Disturb, with angry courage forth they rush In one continuous swarm, to guard their nest: E’en with such courage pour’d the Myrmidons Forth from the ships; then uproar wild arose, And loud Patroclus on his comrades call’d: “Ye valiant Myrmidons, who boast yourselves Achilles’ comrades, quit ye now like men; Your ancient valour prove; to Peleus’ son, Of all the Greeks the noblest, so shall we, His faithful followers, highest honour give; And Agamemnon’s haughty self shall mourn The slight on Grecia’s bravest warrior cast.”

 

His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast.

Thick on the Trojan host their masses fell; While loud the fleet re-echoed to the sound Of Grecian cheers; but when the Trojans saw, Blazing in arms, Menoetius’ godlike son, Himself, and follower; quail’d the spirits of all; Their firm-set ranks were shaken; for they deem’d Achilles had beside the ships exchang’d His wrath for friendship; and each sev’ral man Look’d round, to find his own escape from death.

 

Then first Patroclus aim’d his glitt’ring spear Amid the crowd, where thickest round the ships Of brave Protesilaus, raged the war;

And struck Pyraechmes, who from Amydon, From the wide-flowing stream of Axius, led The horsehair-crested Paeons; him he struck Through the right shoulder; backwards in the dust Groaning, he fell; around him quail’d with fear His Paeons all, such terror in their ranks Patroclus threw, their bravest leader slain, The foremost in the fight; the crowd he drove Far from the ships, and quench’d the blazing fire.

There lay the half-burnt ship; with shouts confus’d The Trojans fled; and from amid the ships Forth pour’d the Greeks; and loud the clamour rose.

 

As when around a lofty mountain’s top

The lightning’s Lord dispels a mass of cloud, And ev’ry crag, and ev’ry jutting peak Is plainly seen, and ev’ry forest glade; And the deep vault of Heav’n is open’d wide; So when the Greeks had clear’d the ships of fire, They breath’d awhile; yet ceas’d not so the strife; For not in headlong panic from the ships The Trojans by the valiant Greeks were driv’n, But, though perforce retiring, still made head.

 

Then of the chiefs, as wider spread the fight, Each singled each; Menoetius’ noble son First threw his pointed spear, and on the thigh Struck Areilochus, in act to turn;

Right through the point was driv’n; the weighty spear Shatter’d the bone, and prone to earth he fell.

The warlike Menelaus aim’d his spear

Where Thoas’ breast, unguarded by his shield, Was left expos’d; and slack’d his limbs in death.

Phyleus’ brave son, as rush’d Amphiclus on, Stood firm, with eye observant; then th’ attack Preventing, through his thigh, high up, where lie The strongest muscles, smote; the weapon’s point Sever’d the tendons; darkness clos’d his eyes.

Of Nestor’s sons, Antilochus, the first, Atymnius wounded, driving through his flank He brazen spear; prone on his face he fell.

Then, burning to avenge his brother’s death, Stood Maris o’er the corpse, and hand to hand Engaged Antilochus; but ere a blow

Was struck, the godlike Thrasymedes drove Through his right shoulder, with unerring aim, His glitt’ring spear; the point his upper arm Tore from the muscles, shatt’ring all the bone: Thund’ring he fell, and darkness clos’d his eyes.

So to the shades, by those two brethren’s hands Subdued, Sarpedon’s comrades brave were sent, The sons of Amisodarus, who rear’d

The dread Chimaera, bane of mortal men.

On Cleobulus, wounded in the press,

Ajax Oileus sprang, and captive took,

Alive; but sudden on his neck let fall His hilted sword, and quench’d the fire of life.

The hot blood dyed the sword; the darkling shades Of death, and rig’rous fate, his eyes o’erspread.

Then Peneleus and Lycon, hand to hand, Engag’d in combat; both had miss’d their aim, And bootless hurl’d their weapons; then with swords They met; first Lycon on the crested helm Dealt a fierce blow; but in his hand the blade Up to the hilt was shiver’d; then the sword Of Peneleus his neck, below the ear,

Dissever’d; deeply in his throat the blade Was plung’d, and by the skin alone was stay’d; Down droop’d his head, his limbs relax’d in death.

Meriones by speed of foot o’ertook,

And, as his car he mounted, Acarnas

Though the right shoulder pierc’d; down from the car He fell; the shades of death his eyes o’erspread.

Full on the mouth of Erymas was thrust The weapon of Idomeneus; right through, The white bones crashing, pass’d the brazen spear Below the brain; his teeth were shatter’d all; With blood, which with convulsive sobs he blew From mouth and nostril, both his eyes were fill’d; And death’s dark cloud encompass’d him around.

Thus slew the Grecian leaders each his man.

 

As rav’ning wolves, that lambs or kids assail, Stray’d from their dams, by careless shepherds left Upon the mountain scatter’d; these they see, And tear at once their unresisting prey; So on the Trojans fell the Greeks; in rout Disastrous they, unmann’d by terror, fled.

Great Ajax still, unwearied, long’d to hurl His spear at Hector of the brazen helm; But he, well skill’d in war, his shoulders broad Protected by his shield of tough bull’s hide, Watch’d for the whizzing shafts, and jav’lins’ whirr.

Full well he knew the tide of battle turn’d, Yet held his ground, his trusty friends to save.

 

As from Olympus, o’er the clear blue sky Pour the dark clouds, when Jove the vault of Heav’n O’erspreads with storm and tempest, from the ships So pour’d with panic cries the flying host, And in disorder’d rout recross’d the trench.

Then Hector’s flying coursers bore him safe Far from the struggling masses, whom the ditch Detain’d perforce; there many a royal car With broken pole th’ unharness’d horses left.

On, shouting to the Greeks, Patroclus press’d The flying Trojans; they, with panic cries, Dispers’d, the roads encumber’d; high uprose The storms of dust, as from the tents and ships Back to the city stretch’d the flying steeds; And ever where the densest throng appear’d With furious threats Patroclus urg’d his course; His glowing axle trac’d by prostrate men Hurl’d from their cars, and chariots overthrown.

Flew o’er the deep-sunk trench th’ immortal steeds, The noble prize the Gods to Peleus gave, Still onward straining; for he long’d to reach, And hurl his spear at Hector; him meanwhile His flying steeds in safety bore away.

 

As in th’ autumnal season, when the earth With weight of rain is saturate; when Jove Pours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men, Who in their courts unrighteous judgments pass, And justice yield to lawless violence, The wrath of Heav’n despising; ev’ry stream Is brimming o’er: the hills in gullies deep Are by the torrents seam’d, which, rushing down From the high mountains to the dark-blue sea, With groans and tumult urge their headlong course, Wasting the works of man; so urg’d their flight, So, as they fled, the Trojan horses groan’d.

The foremost ranks cut off, back tow’rd the ships Patroclus drove them, baffling their attempts To gain the city; and in middle space

Between the ships, the stream, and lofty wall, Dealt slaughter round him, and of many a chief The bitter penalty of death requir’d.

Then Pronous with his glitt’ring spear he struck, Where by the shield his breast was left expos’d, And slack’d his limbs in death; thund’ring he fell.

Next Thestor, son of OEnops, he assail’d; He on his polish’d car, down-crouching, sat, His mind by fear disorder’d; from his hands The reins had dropp’d; him, thrusting with the spear, Through the right cheek and through the teeth he smote, Then dragg’d him, by the weapon, o’er the rail.

As when an angler on a prominent rock

Drags from the sea to shore with hook and line A weighty fish; so him Patroclus dragg’d, Gaping, from off the car; and dash’d him down Upon his face; and life forsook his limbs.

Next Eryalus, eager for the fray,

On the mid forehead with a mighty