The Iliad by Homer (e reader books .TXT) đ
- Author: Homer
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Thee, the first honours of the war adorn, Like gods in strength, and of a goddess born; Him, awful majesty exalts above
The powers of earth, and sceptred sons of Jove.
Let both unite with well-consenting mind, So shall authority with strength be joinâd.
Leave me, O king! to calm Achillesâ rage; Rule thou thyself, as more advanced in age.
Forbid it, gods! Achilles should be lost, The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host.â
This said, he ceased. The king of men replies: âThy years are awful, and thy words are wise.
But that imperious, that unconquerâd soul, No laws can limit, no respect control.
Before his pride must his superiors fall; His word the law, and he the lord of all?
Him must our hosts, our chiefs, ourself obey?
What king can bear a rival in his sway?
Grant that the gods his matchless force have given; Has foul reproach a privilege from heaven?â
Here on the monarchâs speech Achilles broke, And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke: âTyrant, I well deserved thy galling chain, To live thy slave, and still to serve in vain, Should I submit to each unjust decree:â
Command thy vassals, but command not me.
Seize on Briseis, whom the Grecians doomâd My prize of war, yet tamely see resumed; And seize secure; no more Achilles draws His conquering sword in any womanâs cause.
The gods command me to forgive the past: But let this first invasion be the last: For know, thy blood, when next thou darest invade, Shall stream in vengeance on my reeking blade.â
At this they ceased: the stern debate expired: The chiefs in sullen majesty retired.
Achilles with Patroclus took his way
Where near his tents his hollow vessels lay.
Meantime Atrides launchâd with numerous oars A well-riggâd ship for Chrysaâs sacred shores: High on the deck was fair Chryseis placed, And sage Ulysses with the conduct graced: Safe in her sides the hecatomb they stowâd, Then swiftly sailing, cut the liquid road.
The host to expiate next the king prepares, With pure lustrations, and with solemn prayers.
Washâd by the briny wave, the pious train [19]
Are cleansed; and cast the ablutions in the main.
Along the shore whole hecatombs were laid, And bulls and goats to Phoebusâ altars paid; The sable fumes in curling spires arise, And waft their grateful odours to the skies.
The army thus in sacred rites engaged,
Atrides still with deep resentment raged.
To wait his will two sacred heralds stood, Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
âHaste to the fierce Achillesâ tent (he cries), Thence bear Briseis as our royal prize: Submit he must; or if they will not part, Ourself in arms shall tear her from his heart.â
The unwilling heralds act their lordâs commands; Pensive they walk along the barren sands: Arrived, the hero in his tent they find, With gloomy aspect on his arm reclined.
At awful distance long they silent stand, Loth to advance, and speak their hard command; Decent confusion! This the godlike man
Perceived, and thus with accent mild began: âWith leave and honour enter our abodes, Ye sacred ministers of men and gods! [20]
I know your message; by constraint you came; Not you, but your imperious lord I blame.
Patroclus, haste, the fair Briseis bring; Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
But witness, heralds, and proclaim my vow, Witness to gods above, and men below!
But first, and loudest, to your prince declare (That lawless tyrant whose commands you bear), Unmoved as death Achilles shall remain, Though prostrate Greece shall bleed at every vein: The raging chief in frantic passion lost, Blind to himself, and useless to his host, Unskillâd to judge the future by the past, In blood and slaughter shall repent at last.â
{Illustration: THE DEPARTURE OF BRISEIS FROM THE TENT OF ACHILLES.}
Patroclus now the unwilling beauty brought; She, in soft sorrows, and in pensive thought, Passâd silent, as the heralds held her hand, And of lookâd back, slow-moving oâer the strand.
Not so his loss the fierce Achilles bore; But sad, retiring to the sounding shore, Oâer the wild margin of the deep he hung, That kindred deep from whence his mother sprung: [21]
There bathed in tears of anger and disdain, Thus loud lamented to the stormy main:
âO parent goddess! since in early bloom Thy son must fall, by too severe a doom; Sure to so short a race of glory born,
Great Jove in justice should this span adorn: Honour and fame at least the thunderer owed; And ill he pays the promise of a god,
If yon proud monarch thus thy son defies, Obscures my glories, and resumes my prize.â
Far from the deep recesses of the main, Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign, The goddess-mother heard. The waves divide; And like a mist she rose above the tide; Beheld him mourning on the naked shores, And thus the sorrows of his soul explores.
âWhy grieves my son? Thy anguish let me share; Reveal the cause, and trust a parentâs care.â
He deeply sighing said: âTo tell my woe Is but to mention what too well you know.
From Thebe, sacred to Apolloâs name [22]
(Aetionâs realm), our conquering army came, With treasure loaded and triumphant spoils, Whose just division crownâd the soldierâs toils; But bright Chryseis, heavenly prize! was led, By vote selected, to the generalâs bed.
The priest of Phoebus sought by gifts to gain His beauteous daughter from the victorâs chain; The fleet he reachâd, and, lowly bending down, Held forth the sceptre and the laurel crown, Intreating all; but chief implored for grace The brother-kings of Atreusâ royal race: The generous Greeks their joint consent declare, The priest to reverence, and release the fair; Not so Atrides: he, with wonted pride,
The sire insulted, and his gifts denied: The insulted sire (his godâs peculiar care) To Phoebus prayâd, and Phoebus heard the prayer: A dreadful plague ensues: the avenging darts Incessant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts.
A prophet then, inspired by heaven, arose, And points the crime, and thence derives the woes: Myself the first the assembled chiefs incline To avert the vengeance of the power divine; Then rising in his wrath, the monarch stormâd; Incensed he threatenâd, and his threats performâd: The fair Chryseis to her sire was sent, With offerâd gifts to make the god relent; But now he seized Briseisâ heavenly charms, And of my valourâs prize defrauds my arms, Defrauds the votes of all the Grecian train; [23]
And service, faith, and justice, plead in vain.
But, goddess! thou thy suppliant son attend.
To high Olympusâ shining court ascend,
Urge all the ties to former service owed, And sue for vengeance to the thundering god.
Oft hast thou triumphâd in the glorious boast, That thou stoodâst forth of all the ethereal host, When bold rebellion shook the realms above, The undaunted guard of cloud-compelling Jove: When the bright partner of his awful reign, The warlike maid, and monarch of the main, The traitor-gods, by mad ambition driven, Durst threat with chains the omnipotence of Heaven.
Then, callâd by thee, the monster Titan came (Whom gods Briareus, men AEgeon name),
Through wondering skies enormous stalkâd along; Not he that shakes the solid earth so strong: With giant-pride at Joveâs high throne he stands, And brandishâd round him all his hundred hands: The affrighted gods confessâd their awful lord, They droppâd the fetters, trembled, and adored. [24]
This, goddess, this to his remembrance call, Embrace his knees, at his tribunal fall; Conjure him far to drive the Grecian train, To hurl them headlong to their fleet and main, To heap the shores with copious death, and bring The Greeks to know the curse of such a king.
Let Agamemnon lift his haughty head
Oâer all his wide dominion of the dead, And mourn in blood that eâer he durst disgrace The boldest warrior of the Grecian race.â
{Illustration: THETIS CALLING BRIAREUS TO THE ASSISTANCE OF JUPITER.}
âUnhappy son! (fair Thetis thus replies, While tears celestial trickle from her eyes) Why have I borne thee with a motherâs throes, To Fates averse, and nursed for future woes? [25]
So short a space the light of heaven to view!
So short a space! and fillâd with sorrow too!
O might a parentâs careful wish prevail, Far, far from Ilion should thy vessels sail, And thou, from camps remote, the danger shun Which now, alas! too nearly threats my son.
Yet (what I can) to move thy suit Iâll go To great Olympus crownâd with fleecy snow.
Meantime, secure within thy ships, from far Behold the field, not mingle in the war.
The sire of gods and all the ethereal train, On the warm limits of the farthest main, Now mix with mortals, nor disdain to grace The feasts of AEthiopiaâs blameless race, [26]
Twelve days the powers indulge the genial rite, Returning with the twelfth revolving light.
Then will I mount the brazen dome, and move The high tribunal of immortal Jove.â
The goddess spoke: the rolling waves unclose; Then down the steep she plunged from whence she rose, And left him sorrowing on the lonely coast, In wild resentment for the fair he lost.
In Chrysaâs port now sage Ulysses rode; Beneath the deck the destined victims stowâd: The sails they furlâd, they lash the mast aside, And droppâd their anchors, and the pinnace tied.
Next on the shore their hecatomb they land; Chryseis last descending on the strand.
Her, thus returning from the furrowâd main, Ulysses led to Phoebusâ sacred fane;
Where at his solemn altar, as the maid
He gave to Chryses, thus the hero said: âHail, reverend priest! to Phoebusâ awful dome A suppliant I from great Atrides come:
Unransomâd, here receive the spotless fair; Accept the hecatomb the Greeks prepare; And may thy god who scatters darts around, Atoned by sacrifice, desist to wound.â [27]
At this, the sire embraced the maid again, So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.
Then near the altar of the darting king, Disposed in rank their hecatomb they bring; With water purify their hands, and take The sacred offering of the salted cake; While thus with arms devoutly raised in air, And solemn voice, the priest directs his prayer: âGod of the silver bow, thy ear incline, Whose power incircles Cilla the divine; Whose sacred eye thy Tenedos surveys,
And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguishâd rays!
If, fired to vengeance at thy priestâs request, Thy direful darts inflict the raging pest: Once more attend! avert the wasteful woe, And smile propitious, and unbend thy bow.â
So Chryses prayâd. Apollo heard his prayer: And now the Greeks their hecatomb prepare; Between their horns the salted barley threw, And, with their heads to heaven, the victims slew: [28]
The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide; The thighs, selected to the gods, divide: On these, in double cauls involved with art, The choicest morsels lay from every part.
The priest himself before his altar stands, And burns the offering with his holy hands.
Pours the black wine, and sees the flames aspire; The youth with instruments surround the fire: The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dressâd, The assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest: Then spread the tables, the repast prepare; Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.
When now the rage of hunger was repressâd, With pure libations they conclude the feast; The youths with wine the copious goblets crownâd, And, pleased, dispense the flowing bowls around; [29]
With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends, The paeans lengthenâd till the sun descends: The Greeks, restored, the grateful notes prolong; Apollo listens, and approves the song.
âTwas night; the chiefs beside
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