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Complete Works of Homer Page 141

by Homer

To golden-pinion'd Iris thus he spake.

  Haste, Iris, turn them thither whence they came;

  Me let them not encounter; honor small

  To them, to me, should from that strife accrue.

  Tell them, and the effect shall sure ensue,

  That I will smite their steeds, and they shall halt

  Disabled; break their chariot, dash themselves

  Headlong, and ten whole years shall not efface

  The wounds by my avenging bolts impress'd.

  So shall my blue-eyed daughter learn to dread

  A father's anger; but for the offence

  Of Juno, I resent it less; for she

  Clashes with all my counsels from of old.

  He ended; Iris with a tempest's speed

  From the Idæan summit soar'd at once

  To the Olympian; at the open gates

  Exterior of the mountain many-valed

  She stayed them, and her coming thus declared.

  Whither, and for what cause? What rage is this?

  Ye may not aid the Grecians; Jove forbids;

  The son of Saturn threatens, if ye force

  His wrath by perseverance into act,

  That he will smite your steeds, and they shall halt

  Disabled; break your chariot, dash yourselves

  Headlong, and ten whole years shall not efface

  The wounds by his avenging bolts impress'd.

  So shall his blue-eyed daughter learn to dread

  A father's anger; but for the offence

  Of Juno, he resents it less; for she

  Clashes with all his counsels from of old.

  But thou, Minerva, if thou dare indeed

  Lift thy vast spear against the breast of Jove,

  Incorrigible art and dead to shame.

  So saying, the rapid Iris disappear'd,

  And thus her speech to Pallas Juno turn'd.

  Ah Pallas, progeny of Jove! henceforth

  No longer, in the cause of mortal men,

  Contend we against Jove. Perish or live

  Grecians or Trojans as he wills; let him

  Dispose the order of his own concerns,

  And judge between them, as of right he may.

  So saying, she turn'd the coursers; them the Hours

  Released, and to ambrosial mangers bound,

  Then thrust their chariot to the luminous wall.

  They, mingling with the Gods, on golden thrones

  Dejected sat, and Jove from Ida borne

  Reach'd the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods.

  His steeds the glorious King of Ocean loosed,

  And thrust the chariot, with its veil o'erspread.

  Into its station at the altar's side.

  Then sat the Thunderer on his throne of gold

  Himself, and the huge mountain shook. Meantime

  Juno and Pallas, seated both apart,

  Spake not or question'd him. Their mute reserve

  He noticed, conscious of the cause, and said.

  Juno and Pallas, wherefore sit ye sad?

  Not through fatigue by glorious fight incurr'd

  And slaughter of the Trojans whom ye hate.

  Mark now the difference. Not the Gods combined

  Should have constrain'd me back, till all my force,

  Superior as it is, had fail'd, and all

  My fortitude. But ye, ere ye beheld

  The wonders of the field, trembling retired.

  And ye did well — Hear what had else befallen.

  My bolts had found you both, and ye had reach'd,

  In your own chariot borne, the Olympian height,

  Seat of the blest Immortals, never more.

  He ended; Juno and Minerva heard

  Low murmuring deep disgust, and side by side

  Devising sat calamity to Troy.

  Minerva, through displeasure against Jove,

  Nought utter'd, for her bosom boil'd with rage;

  But Juno check'd not hers, who thus replied.

  What word hath pass'd thy lips, Jove most severe?

  We know thy force resistless; yet our hearts

  Feel not the less when we behold the Greeks

  Exhausting all the sorrows of their lot.

  If thou command, we doubtless will abstain

  From battle, yet such counsel to the Greeks

  Suggesting still, as may in part effect

  Their safety, lest thy wrath consume them all.

  Then answer, thus, cloud-gatherer Jove return'd.

  Look forth, imperial Juno, if thou wilt,

  To-morrow at the blush of earliest dawn,

  And thou shalt see Saturn's almighty son

  The Argive host destroying far and wide.

  For Hector's fury shall admit no pause

  Till he have roused Achilles, in that day

  When at the ships, in perilous straits, the hosts

  Shall wage fierce battle for Patroclus slain.

  Such is the voice of fate. But, as for thee —

  Withdraw thou to the confines of the abyss

  Where Saturn and Iäpetus retired,

  Exclusion sad endure from balmy airs

  And from the light of morn, hell-girt around,

  I will not call thee thence. No. Should thy rage

  Transport thee thither, there thou may'st abide,

  There sullen nurse thy disregarded spleen

  Obstinate as thou art, and void of shame.

  He ended; to whom Juno nought replied.

  And now the radiant Sun in Ocean sank,

  Drawing night after him o'er all the earth;

  Night, undesired by Troy, but to the Greeks

  Thrice welcome for its interposing gloom.

  Then Hector on the river's brink fast by

  The Grecian fleet, where space he found unstrew'd

  With carcases convened the Chiefs of Troy.

  They, there dismounting, listen'd to the words

  Of Hector Jove-beloved; he grasp'd a spear

  In length eleven cubits, bright its head

  Of brass, and color'd with a ring of gold.

  He lean'd on it, and ardent thus began.

  Trojans, Dardanians, and allies of Troy!

  I hoped, this evening (every ship consumed,

  And all the Grecians slain) to have return'd

  To wind-swept Ilium. But the shades of night

  Have intervened, and to the night they owe,

  In chief, their whole fleet's safety and their own.

  Now, therefore, as the night enjoins, all take

  Needful refreshment. Your high-mettled steeds

  Release, lay food before them, and in haste

  Drive hither from the city fatted sheep

  And oxen; bring ye from your houses bread,

  Make speedy purchase of heart-cheering wine,

  And gather fuel plenteous; that all night,

  E'en till Aurora, daughter of the morn

  Shall look abroad, we may with many fires

  Illume the skies; lest even in the night,

  Launching, they mount the billows and escape.

  Beware that they depart not unannoy'd,

  But, as he leaps on board, give each a wound

  With shaft or spear, which he shall nurse at home.

  So shall the nations fear us, and shall vex

  With ruthless war Troy's gallant sons no more.

  Next, let the heralds, ministers of Jove,

  Loud notice issue that the boys well-grown,

  And ancients silver-hair'd on the high towers

  Built by the Gods, keep watch; on every hearth

  In Troy, let those of the inferior sex

  Make sprightly blaze, and place ye there a guard

  Sufficient, lest in absence of the troops

  An ambush enter, and surprise the town.

  Act thus, ye dauntless Trojans; the advice

  Is wholesome, and shall serve the present need,

  And so much for
the night; ye shall be told

  The business of the morn when morn appears.

  It is my prayer to Jove and to all heaven

  (Not without hope) that I may hence expel

  These dogs, whom Ilium's unpropitious fates

  Have wafted hither in their sable barks.

  But we will also watch this night, ourselves,

  And, arming with the dawn, will at their ships

  Give them brisk onset. Then shall it appear

  If Diomede the brave shall me compel

  Back to our walls, or I, his arms blood-stain'd,

  Torn from his breathless body, bear away.

  To-morrow, if he dare but to abide

  My lance, he shall not want occasion meet

  For show of valor. But much more I judge

  That the next rising sun shall see him slain

  With no few friends around him. Would to heaven!

  I were as sure to 'scape the blight of age

  And share their honors with the Gods above,

  As comes the morrow fraught with wo to Greece.

  So Hector, whom his host with loud acclaim

  All praised. Then each his sweating steeds released,

  And rein'd them safely at his chariot-side.

  And now from Troy provision large they brought,

  Oxen, and sheep, with store of wine and bread,

  And fuel much was gather'd. Next the Gods

  With sacrifice they sought, and from the plain

  Upwafted by the winds the smoke aspired

  Savoury, but unacceptable to those

  Above; such hatred in their hearts they bore

  To Priam, to the people of the brave

  Spear-practised Priam, and to sacred Troy.

  Big with great purposes and proud, they sat,

  Not disarray'd, but in fair form disposed

  Of even ranks, and watch'd their numerous fires,

  As when around the clear bright moon, the stars

  Shine in full splendor, and the winds are hush'd,

  The groves, the mountain-tops, the headland-heights

  Stand all apparent, not a vapor streaks

  The boundless blue, but ether open'd wide

  All glitters, and the shepherd's heart is cheer'd;

  So numerous seem'd those fires the bank between

  Of Xanthus, blazing, and the fleet of Greece,

  In prospect all of Troy; a thousand fires,

  Each watch'd by fifty warriors seated near.

  The steeds beside the chariots stood, their corn

  Chewing, and waiting till the golden-throned

  Aurora should restore the light of day.

  * * *

  BOOK IX.

  * * *

  ARGUMENT OF THE NINTH BOOK.

  By advice of Nestor, Agamemnon sends Ulysses, Phœnix, and Ajax to the tent of Achilles with proposals of reconciliation. They execute their commission, but without effect. Phœnix remains with Achilles; Ulysses and Ajax return.

  * * *

  BOOK IX.

  So watch'd the Trojan host; but thoughts of flight,

  Companions of chill fear, from heaven infused,

  Possess'd the Grecians; every leader's heart

  Bled, pierced with anguish insupportable.

  As when two adverse winds blowing from Thrace,

  Boreas and Zephyrus, the fishy Deep

  Vex sudden, all around, the sable flood

  High curl'd, flings forth the salt weed on the shore

  Such tempest rent the mind of every Greek.

  Forth stalk'd Atrides with heart-riving wo

  Transfixt; he bade his heralds call by name

  Each Chief to council, but without the sound

  Of proclamation; and that task himself

  Among the foremost sedulous perform'd.

  The sad assembly sat; when weeping fast

  As some deep fountain pours its rapid stream

  Down from the summit of a lofty rock,

  King Agamemnon in the midst arose,

  And, groaning, the Achaians thus address'd.

  Friends, counsellors and leaders of the Greeks!

  In dire perplexity Saturnian Jove

  Involves me, cruel; he assured me erst,

  And solemnly, that I should not return

  Till I had wasted wall-encircled Troy;

  But now (ah fraudulent and foul reverse!)

  Commands me back inglorious to the shores

  Of distant Argos, with diminish'd troops.

  So stands the purpose of almighty Jove,

  Who many a citadel hath laid in dust,

  And shall hereafter, matchless in his power.

  Haste therefore. My advice is, that we all

  Fly with our fleet into our native land,

  For wide-built Ilium shall not yet be ours.

  He ceased, and all sat silent; long the sons

  Of Greece, o'erwhelm'd with sorrow, silent sat,

  When thus, at last, bold Diomede began.

  Atrides! foremost of the Chiefs I rise

  To contravert thy purpose ill-conceived,

  And with such freedom as the laws, O King!

  Of consultation and debate allow.

  Hear patient. Thou hast been thyself the first

  Who e'er reproach'd me in the public ear

  As one effeminate and slow to fight;

  How truly, let both young and old decide.

  The son of wily Saturn hath to thee

  Given, and refused; he placed thee high in power,

  Gave thee to sway the sceptre o'er us all,

  But courage gave thee not, his noblest gift.

  Art thou in truth persuaded that the Greeks

  Are pusillanimous, as thou hast said?

  If thy own fears impel thee to depart,

  Go thou, the way is open; numerous ships,

  Thy followers from Mycenæ, line the shore.

  But we, the rest, depart not, 'till the spoil

  Of Troy reward us. Or if all incline

  To seek again their native home, fly all;

  Myself and Sthenelus will persevere

  Till Ilium fall, for with the Gods we came.

  He ended; all the admiring sons of Greece

  With shouts the warlike Diomede extoll'd,

  When thus equestrian Nestor next began.

  Tydides, thou art eminently brave

  In fight, and all the princes of thy years

  Excell'st in council. None of all the Greeks

  Shall find occasion just to blame thy speech

  Or to gainsay; yet thou hast fallen short.

  What wonder? Thou art young; and were myself

  Thy father, thou should'st be my latest born.

  Yet when thy speech is to the Kings of Greece,

  It is well-framed and prudent. Now attend!

  Myself will speak, who have more years to boast

  Than thou hast seen, and will so closely scan

  The matter, that Atrides, our supreme,

  Himself shall have no cause to censure me.

  He is a wretch, insensible and dead

  To all the charities of social life,

  Whose pleasure is in civil broils alone.

  But Night is urgent, and with Night's demands

  Let all comply. Prepare we now repast,

  And let the guard be stationed at the trench

  Without the wall; the youngest shall supply

  That service; next, Atrides, thou begin

  (For thou art here supreme) thy proper task.

  Banquet the elders; it shall not disgrace

  Thy sovereignty, but shall become thee well.

  Thy tents are fill'd with wine which day by day

  Ships bring from Thrace; accommodation large

  Hast thou, and numerous is thy menial train.

  Thy many guests assembled, thou shalt hear

  Our counsel, and shalt choose the best; great need

  Have all Achaia's sons
, now, of advice

  Most prudent; for the foe, fast by the fleet

  Hath kindled numerous fires, which who can see

  Unmoved? This night shall save us or destroy.

  He spake, whom all with full consent approved.

  Forth rush'd the guard well-arm'd; first went the son

  Of Nestor, Thrasymedes, valiant Chief;

  Then, sons of Mars, Ascalaphus advanced,

  And brave Iälmenus; whom follow'd next

  Deipyrus, Aphareus, Meriones,

  And Lycomedes, Creon's son renown'd.

  Seven were the leaders of the guard, and each

  A hundred spearmen headed, young and bold.

  Between the wall and trench their seat they chose,

  There kindled fires, and each his food prepared.

  Atrides, then, to his pavilion led

  The thronging Chiefs of Greece, and at his board

  Regaled them; they with readiness and keen

  Dispatch of hunger shared the savory feast,

  And when nor thirst remain'd nor hunger more

  Unsated, Nestor then, arising first,

  Whose counsels had been ever wisest deem'd,

  Warm for the public interest, thus began.

  Atrides! glorious sovereign! King of men!

  Thou art my first and last, proem and close,

  For thou art mighty, and to thee are given

  From Jove the sceptre and the laws in charge,

  For the advancement of the general good.

  Hence, in peculiar, both to speak and hear

  Become thy duty, and the best advice,

  By whomsoever offer'd, to adopt

  And to perform, for thou art judge alone.

  I will promulge the counsel which to me

  Seems wisest; such, that other Grecian none

  Shall give thee better; neither is it new,

  But I have ever held it since the day

  When, most illustrious! thou wast pleased to take

  By force the maid Briseïs from the tent

  Of the enraged Achilles; not, in truth,

  By my advice, who did dissuade thee much;

  But thou, complying with thy princely wrath,

  Hast shamed a Hero whom themselves the Gods

  Delight to honor, and his prize detain'st.

  Yet even now contrive we, although late,

  By lenient gifts liberal, and by speech

  Conciliatory, to assuage his ire.

  Then answer'd Agamemnon, King of men.

  Old Chief! there is no falsehood in thy charge;

  I have offended, and confess the wrong.

  The warrior is alone a host, whom Jove

  Loves as he loves Achilles, for whose sake

  He hath Achaia's thousands thus subdued.

  But if the impulse of a wayward mind

 

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