The Iliad by Homer (pride and prejudice read .TXT) 📖

shoulder; prone in dust he fell; As some tall poplar, grown in marshy mead, Smooth-stemm’d, with branches tapering tow’rd the head; Which with the biting axe the wheelwright fells, To bend the felloes of his well-built car; Sapless, beside the river, lies the tree; So lay the youthful Simoisius, felled

By godlike Ajax’ hand. At him, in turn, The son of Priam, Antiphus, encas’d

In radiant armour, from amid the crowd His jav’lin threw; his mark, indeed, he miss’d; But through the groin Ulysses’ faithful friend, Leucus, he struck, in act to bear away The youthful dead; down on the corpse he fell, And, dying, of the dead relax’d his grasp.

Fierce anger, at his comrade’s slaughter, filled Ulysses’ breast; in burnished armour clad Forward he rush’d; and standing near, around He look’d, and pois’d on high his glitt’ring lance: Beneath his aim the Trojans back recoil’d; Nor vainly flew the spear; Democoon,

A bastard son of Priam, met the blow:

He from Abydos came, his high-bred mares There left to pasture; him Ulysses, fill’d With fury at his lov’d companion’s death, Smote on the head; through either temple pass’d The pointed spear, and darkness veil’d his eyes.

Thund’ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.

At this the Trojan chiefs, and Hector’s self, ‘Gan to give ground: the Greeks with joyful shouts Seiz’d on the dead, and forward urg’d their course.

From Ilium’s heights Apollo, filled with wrath, Look’d down, and to the Trojans shouted loud: “Uprouse ye, valiant Trojans! give not way Before the Greeks; their bodies are not stone, Nor iron, to defy your trenchant swords; And great Achilles, fair-hair’d Thetis’ son, Fights not, but o’er his anger broods apart.”

So from the city call’d the heav’nly voice; The Greeks, meanwhile, all-glorious Pallas fir’d, Mov’d ‘mid the tumult, and the laggards rous’d.

 

Then fell Diores, Amarynceus’ son:

A rugged fragment of a rock had crush’d His ancle and right leg; from AEnon came The Thracian chief who hurl’d it, Peirous, son Of Imbrasus; the tendons both, and bones, The huge mass shatter’d; backward in the dust He fell, both hands extending to his friends, Gasping his life away; then quick up-ran He who the blow had dealt, and with his spear Thrust through him, by the navel; from the wound His bowels gush’d, and darkness veil’d his eyes.

 

But he, advancing, through the breast was struck Above the nipple, by th’ AEtolian chief.

Thoas; and through his lungs the spear was driv’n.

Thoas approach’d, and from his breast withdrew The sturdy spear, and with his sharp-edg’d sword Across his waistband gave the mortal stroke: Yet could not touch his arms; for all around The Thracian warriors, with, their tufted crowns, Their long spears held before them, him, though stout, And strong, and valiant, kept at bay; perforce He yielded; and thus side by side were laid The two, the Thracian and th’ Epeian chief; And round them many a valiant soldier lay.

 

Well might the deeds achieved that day deserve His praise, who through that bloody field might pass By sword or spear unwounded, by the hand Of Pallas guarded from the weapon’s flight; For many a Trojan, many a Greek, that day Prone in the dust, and side by side, were laid.

 

ARGUMENT.

 

THE ACTS OF DIOMED.

 

Diomed, assisted by Pallas, performs wonders in this day’s battle.

Pandarus wounds him with an arrow, but the goddess cures him, enables him to discern gods from mortals, and prohibits him from contending with any of the former, excepting Venus. AEneas joins Pandarus to oppose him, Pandarus is killed, and AEneas in great danger but for the assistance of Venus; who, as she is removing her son from the fight, is wounded on the hand by Diomed. Apollo seconds her in his rescue, and, at length, carries off AEneas to Troy, where he is healed in the temple of Pergamus. Mars rallies the Trojans, and assists Hector to make a stand. In the mean time AEneas is restored to the field, and they overthrow several of the Greeks; among the rest Tlepolemus is slain by Sarpedon. Juno and Minerva descend to resist Mars; the latter incites Diomed to go against that god; he wounds him, and sends him groaning to heaven.

 

The first battle continues through this book. The scene is the same as in the former.

 

BOOK V.

 

Such strength, and courage then to Diomed, The son of Tydeus, Pallas gave, as rais’d, ‘Mid all the Greeks, the glory of his name.

Forth from his helm arid shield a fiery light There flash’d, like autumn’s star, that brightest shines When newly risen from his ocean bath.

So from the warrior’s head and shoulders flash’d That fiery light, as to the midst he urg’d His furious course, where densest masses fought.

 

There was one Dares ‘mid the Trojan host, The priest of Vulcan, rich, of blameless life; Two gallant sons he had, Idaeus nam’d, And Phegeus, skill’d in all the points of war.

These, parted from the throng, the warrior met; They on their car, while he on foot advanc’d.

When near they came, first Phegeus threw his spear; O’er the left shoulder of Tydides pass’d The erring weapon’s point, and miss’d its mark.

His pond’rous spear in turn Tydides threw, And not in vain; on Phegeus’ breast it struck, Full in the midst, and hurl’d him from the car.

Idaeus from the well-wrought chariot sprang, And fled, nor durst his brother’s corpse defend.

Nor had he so escap’d the doom of death, But Vulcan bore him safely from the field, In darkness shrouded, that his aged sire Might not be wholly of his sons bereav’d.

The car Tydides to his comrades gave,

And bade them to the ships the horses drive.

 

Now when the Trojans Dares’ sons beheld, The one in flight, the other stretch’d in death, Their spirits within them quail’d; but Pallas took The hand of Mars, and thus address’d the God: “Mars, Mars, thou bane of mortals, blood-stain’d Lord, Razer of cities, wherefore leave we not The Greeks and Trojans to contend, and see To which the sire of all will vict’ry give; While we retire, and shun the wrath of Jove?”

 

Thus saying, from the battle Mars she led, And plac’d him on Scamander’s steepy banks.

 

The Greeks drove back the Trojan host; the chiefs Slew each his victim; Agamemnon first, The mighty monarch, from his chariot hurl’d Hodius, the sturdy Halizonian chief,

Him, as he turn’d, between the shoulder-blades The jav’lin struck, and through his chest was driv’n; Thund’ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.

 

On Phaestus, Borus’ son, Maeonian chief, Who from the fertile plains of Tarna came, Then sprang Idomeneus; and as he sought To mount upon his car, the Cretan King Through his right shoulder drove the pointed spear; He fell; the shades of death his eyes o’erspread, And of his arms the followers stripp’d his corpse.

 

The son of Atreus, Menelaus, slew

Scamandrius, son of Strophius, sportsman keen, In woodcraft skilful; for his practis’d hand Had by Diana’s self been taught to slay Each beast of chase the mountain forest holds.

But nought avail’d him then the Archer-Queen Diana’s counsels, nor his boasted art

Of distant aim; for as he fled, the lance Of Menelaus, Atreus’ warlike son,

Behind his neck, between the shoulder-blades, His flight arresting, through his chest was driv’n.

Headlong he fell, and loud his armour rang.

 

Phereclus by Meriones was slain,

Son of Harmonides, whose practis’d hand Knew well to fashion many a work of art; By Pallas highly favour’d; he the ships For Paris built, first origin of ill,

Freighted with evil to the men of Troy, And to himself, who knew not Heav’n’s decrees.

Him, in his headlong flight, in hot pursuit Meriones o’ertook, and thrust his lance Through his right flank; beneath the bone was driv’n The spear, and pierc’d him through: prone on his knees, Groaning, he fell, and death his eyelids clos’d.

 

Meges Pedaeus slew, Antenor’s son,

A bastard born, but by Theano rear’d

With tender care, and nurtur’d as her son, With her own children, for her husband’s sake.

Him, Phyleus’ warrior son, approaching near, Thrust through the junction of the head and neck; Crash’d through his teeth the spear beneath the tongue; Prone in the dust he gnash’d the brazen point.

 

Eurypylus, Euaemon’s noble son,

Hypsenor slew, the worthy progeny

Of Dolopion brave; Scamander’s priest, And by the people as a God rever’d:

Him, as he fled before him, from behind Eurypylus, Euaemon’s noble son,

Smote with the sword; and from the shoulder-point The brawny arm he sever’d; to the ground Down fell the gory hand; the darkling shades Of death, and rig’rous doom, his eyelids clos’d.

 

Thus labour’d they amid the stubborn fight; But of Tydides none might say to whom

His arm belong’d, or whether with the hosts Of Troy or Greece he mingled in the fight: Hither and thither o’er the plain he rush’d, Like to a wintry stream, that brimming o’er Breaks down its barriers in its rapid course; Nor well-built bridge can stem the flood, nor fence guards the fertile fields, as down it pours Its sudden torrent, swoll’n with rain from Heav’n, And many a goodly work of man destroys: So back were borne before Tydides’ might The serried ranks of Troy, nor dar’d await, Despite their numbers, his impetuous charge.

 

Him when Lycaon’s noble son beheld

Careering o’er the plain, the serried ranks Driving before him, quick at Tydeus’ son He bent his bow; and onward as he rush’d, On the right shoulder, near the breastplate’s joint, The stinging arrow struck; right through it pass’d, And held its way, that blood the breastplate stain’d.

Then shouted loud Lycaon’s noble son:

“Arouse ye, valiant Trojans, ye who goad Your flying steeds; the bravest of the Greeks Is wounded, nor, I deem, can long withstand My weapon, if indeed from Lycia’s shore By Phoebus’ counsel sent I join’d the war.”

 

Thus he, vain-glorious; but not so was quell’d The godlike chief; back he withdrew, and stood Beside his car, and thus to Sthenelus, The son of Capaneus, his speech address’d: “Up, gentle son of Capaneus, descend

From off the car, and from my shoulder draw This stinging arrow forth.” He said, and down Leap’d from the chariot Sthenelus, and stood Beside him; and as forth he drew the shaft, Gush’d out the blood, and dyed the twisted mail.

Then thus the valiant son of Tydeus pray’d: “Hear me, thou child of aegis-bearing Jove, Unconquer’d! if amid the deadly fight

Thy friendly aid my father e’er sustain’d, Let me in turn thy favour find; and grant Within my reach and compass of my spear That man may find himself, who unawares Hath wounded me, and vainly boasting deems I shall not long behold the light of day.”

Thus pray’d the chief, and Pallas heard his pray’r; To all his limbs, to feet and hands alike, She gave fresh vigour; and with winged words, Beside him as she stood, address’d him thus: “Go fearless onward, Diomed, to meet

The Trojan hosts; for I within thy breast Thy father’s dauntless courage have infus’d, Such as of old in Tydeus’ bosom dwelt, Bold horseman, buckler-clad; and from thine eyes The film that dimm’d them I have purg’d away, That thou mayst well ‘twixt Gods and men discern.

If then some God make trial of thy force, With other of th’ Immortals fight thou not; But should Jove’s daughter Venus dare the fray Thou needst not shun at her to cast thy spear.”

 

This said, the blue-ey’d Goddess disappear’d.

Forthwith again amid the foremost ranks Tydides mingled; keenly as before

His spirit against the Trojans burn’d to fight, With threefold fury now he sought the fray.

As when a hungry lion has o’erleap’d

The sheepfold;