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

brink Of a swift stream, down rushing to the sea, Boiling with foam, and back recoils; so then Recoil’d Tydides, and address’d the crowd: “O friends, we marvel at the might display’d By Hector, spearman skill’d and warrior bold; But still some guardian God his steps attends, And shields from danger; now beside him stands, In likeness of a mortal, Mars himself.

Then turning still your faces to your foes, Retire, nor venture with the Gods to fight.”

 

He said; the Trojans now were close at hand, And, mounted both upon a single car,

Two chiefs, Menesthes and Anchialus,

Well skill’d in war, by Hector’s hand were slain.

 

With pitying eyes great Ajax Telamon

Beheld their fall; advancing close, he threw His glitt’ring spear; the son of Selagus It struck, Amphius, who in Paesus dwelt, In land and substance rich; by evil fate Impell’d, to Priam’s house he brought his aid.

Below the belt the spear of Ajax struck, And in his groin the point was buried deep; Thund’ring he fell; then forward Ajax sprang To seize the spoils of war; but fast and fierce The Trojans show’r’d their weapons bright and keen, And many a lance the mighty shield receiv’d.

Ajax, his foot firm planted on the slain, Withdrew the brazen spear; yet could not strip His armour off, so galling flew the shafts; And much he fear’d his foes might hem him in, Who closely press’d upon him, many and brave; And, valiant as he was, and tall, and strong, Still drove him backward; he perforce retired.

 

Thus labour’d they amid the stubborn fight.

Then evil fate induc’d Tlepolemus,

Valiant and strong, the son of Hercules, Heav’n-born Sarpedon to confront in fight.

When near they came, of cloud-compelling Jove Grandson and son, Tlepolemus began:

“Sarpedon, Lycian chief, what brings thee here, Trembling and crouching, all unskill’d in war?

Falsely they speak who fable thee the son Of aegis-bearing Jove; so far art thou Beneath their mark who claim’d in elder days That royal lineage: such my father was, Of courage resolute, of lion heart.

With but six ships, and with a scanty band, The horses by Laomedon withheld

Avenging, he o’erthrew this city, Troy, And made her streets a desert; but thy soul Is poor, thy troops are wasting fast away; Nor deem I that the Trojans will in thee (Ev’n were thy valour more) and Lycia’s aid Their safeguard find; but vanquish’d by my hand, This day the gates of Hades thou shalt pass.”

 

To whom the Lycian chief, Sarpedon, thus: “Tlepolemus, the sacred walls of Troy

Thy sire o’erthrew, by folly of one man, Laomedon, who with injurious words

His noble service recompens’d; nor gave The promis’d steeds, for which he came from far.

For thee, I deem thou now shalt meet thy doom Here, at my hand; on thee my spear shall win Renown for me, thy soul to Hades send.”

 

Thus as Sarpedon spoke, Tlepolemus

Uprais’d his ashen spear; from both their hands The pond’rous weapons simultaneous flew.

Full in the throat Tlepolemus receiv’d Sarpedon’s spear; right through the neck it pass’d, And o’er his eyes the shades of death were spread.

On th’ other side his spear Sarpedon struck On the left thigh; the eager weapon pass’d Right through the flesh, and in the bone was fix’d; The stroke of death his father turn’d aside.

Sarpedon from the field his comrades bore, Weigh’d down and tortured by the trailing spear, For, in their haste to bear him to his car, Not one bethought him from his thigh to draw The weapon forth; so sorely were they press’d.

 

The Greeks too from the battle-field convey’d The slain Tlepolemus; Ulysses saw,

Patient of spirit, but deeply mov’d at heart; And with conflicting thoughts his breast was torn, If first he should pursue the Thund’rer’s son, Or deal destruction on the Lycian host.

But fate had not decreed the valiant son Of Jove to fall beneath Ulysses’ hand; So on the Lycians Pallas turn’d his wrath.

Alastor then, and Coeranus he slew,

Chromius, Alcander, Halius, Prytanis,

Noemon; nor had ended then the list

Of Lycian warriors by Ulysses slain;

But Hector of the glancing helm beheld; Through the front ranks he rush’d, with burnish’d crest Resplendent, flashing terror on the Greeks; With joy Sarpedon saw his near approach, And with imploring tones address’d him thus: “Hector, thou son of Priam, leave me not A victim to the Greeks, but lend thine aid: Then in your city let me end my days.

For not to me is giv’n again to see

My native land; or, safe returning home, To glad my sorrowing wife and infant child.”

 

Thus he; but Hector, answ’ring not a word, Pass’d on in silence, hasting to pursue The Greeks, and pour destruction on their host.

 

Beneath the oak of aegis-bearing Jove

His faithful comrades laid Sarpedon down, And from his thigh the valiant Pelagon, His lov’d companion, drew the ashen spear.

He swoon’d, and giddy mists o’erspread his eyes: But soon reviv’d, as on his forehead blew, While yet he gasp’d for breath, the cooling breeze.

 

By Mars and Hector of the brazen helm

The Greeks hard-press’d, yet fled not to their ships, Nor yet sustain’d the fight; but back retir’d Soon as they learned the presence of the God.

Say then who first, who last, the prowess felt Of Hector, Priam’s son, and mail-clad Mars?

The godlike Teuthras first, Orestes next, Bold charioteer; th’ AEtolian spearman skill’d, Trechus, OEnomaus, and Helenus,

The son of OEnops; and Oresbius, girt

With sparkling girdle; he in Hyla dwelt, The careful Lord of boundless wealth, beside Cephisus’ marshy banks; Boeotia’s chiefs Around him dwelt, on fat and fertile soil.

Juno, the white-arm’d Queen, who saw these two The Greeks destroying in the stubborn fight, To Pallas thus her winged words address’d: “O Heav’n! brave child of aegis-bearing Jove, Vain was our word to Menelaus giv’n.

That he the well-built walls of Troy should raze, And safe return, if unrestrain’d we leave Ferocious Mars to urge his mad career.

Come then; let us too mingle in the fray.”

 

She said: and Pallas, blue-ey’d Maid, complied.

Offspring of Saturn, Juno, heav’nly Queen, Herself th’ immortal steeds caparison’d, Adorn’d with golden frontlets: to the car Hebe the circling wheels of brass attach’d, Eight-spok’d, that on an iron axle turn’d; The felloes were of gold, and fitted round With brazen tires, a marvel to behold; The naves were silver, rounded every way: The chariot-board on gold and silver bands Was hung, and round it ran a double rail: The pole was all of silver; at the end A golden yoke, with golden yokebands fair: And Juno, all on fire to join the fray, Beneath the yoke the flying coursers led.

 

Pallas, the child of aegis-bearing Jove, Within her father’s threshold dropp’d her veil, Of airy texture, work of her own hands; The cuirass donn’d of cloud-compelling Jove, And stood accoutred for the bloody fray.

Her tassell’d aegis round her shoulders next She threw, with Terror circled all around; And on its face were figur’d deeds of arms, And Strife, and Courage high, and panic Rout; There too a Gorgon’s head, of monstrous size, Frown’d terrible, portent of angry Jove: And on her head a golden helm she plac’d, Four-crested, double-peak’d, whose ample verge A hundred cities’ champions might suffice: Her fiery car she mounted: in her hand A spear she bore, long, weighty, tough; wherewith The mighty daughter of a mighty sire

Sweeps down the ranks of those her hate pursues.

 

Then Juno sharply touch’d the flying steeds: Forthwith spontaneous opening, grated harsh The heavenly portals, guarded by the Hours, Who Heav’n and high Olympus have in charge To roll aside, or draw the veil of cloud.

Through these th’ excited horses held their way.

They found the son of Saturn, from the Gods Sitting apart, upon the highest crest

Of many-ridg’d Olympus; there arriv’d, The white-arm’d Goddess Juno stay’d her steeds, And thus address’d the Sov’reign Lord of Heav’n: “O Father Jove! canst thou behold unmov’d The violence of Mars? how many Greeks, Reckless and uncontroll’d, he hath destroy’d; To me a source of bitter grief; meanwhile Venus and Phoebus of the silver bow

Look on, well pleas’d, who sent this madman forth, To whom both law and justice are unknown.

Say, Father Jove, shall I thine anger move, If with disgrace I drive him from the field?”

 

To whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied: “Go, send against him Pallas; she, I know, Hath oft inflicted on him grievous pain.”.

 

He said: the white-arm’d Queen with joy obey’d; She urg’d her horses; nothing loth, they flew Midway between the earth, and starry Heav’n: Far as his sight extends, who from on high Looks from his watch-tow’r o’er the dark-blue sea, So far at once the neighing horses bound.

But when to Troy they came, beside the streams Where Simois’ and Scamander’s waters meet, The white-arm’d Goddess stay’d her flying steeds, Loos’d from the car, and veil’d in densest cloud.

For them, at bidding of the river-God, Ambrosial forage grew: the Goddesses,

Swift as the wild wood-pigeon’s rapid flight, Sped to the battle-field to aid the Greeks.

But when they reach’d the thickest of the fray, Where throng’d around the might of Diomed The bravest and the best, as lions fierce, Or forest-boars, the mightiest of their kind, There stood the white-arm’d Queen, and call’d aloud, In form of Stentor, of the brazen voice, Whose shout was as the shout of fifty men: “Shame on ye, Greeks, base cowards! brave alone In outward semblance; while Achilles yet Went forth to battle, from the Dardan gates The Trojans never ventur’d to advance, So dreaded they his pond’rous spear; but now Far from the walls, beside your ships, they fight.”

 

She said: her words their drooping courage rous’d.

Meanwhile the blue-ey’d Pallas went in haste In search of Tydeus’ son; beside his car She found the King, in act to cool the wound Inflicted by the shaft of Pandarus:

Beneath his shield’s broad belt the clogging sweat Oppress’d him, and his arm was faint with toil; The belt was lifted up, and from the wound He wip’d the clotted blood: beside the car The Goddess stood, and touch’d the yoke, and said: “Little like Tydeus’ self is Tydeus’ son: Low was his stature, but his spirit was high: And ev’n when I from combat rashly wag’d Would fain have kept him back, what time in Thebes He found himself, an envoy and alone,

Without support, among the Thebans all, I counsell’d him in peace to share the feast: But by his own impetuous courage led,

He challenged all the Thebans to contend With him in wrestling, and o’erthrew them all With ease; so mighty was the aid I gave.

Thee now I stand beside, and guard from harm, And bid thee boldly with the Trojans fight.

But, if the labours of the battle-field O’ertask thy limbs, or heartless fear restrain, No issue thou of valiant Tydeus’ loins.”

 

Whom answer’d thus the valiant Diomed: “I know thee, Goddess, who thou art; the child Of aegis-bearing Jove: to thee my mind I freely speak, nor aught will I conceal.

Nor heartless fear, nor hesitating doubt, Restrain me; but I bear thy words in mind, With other of th’ Immortals not to fight: But should Jove’s daughter, Venus, dare the fray, At her I need not shun to throw my spear.

Therefore I thus withdrew, and others too Exhorted to retire, since Mars himself I saw careering o’er the battle-field.”

 

To whom the blue-ey’d Goddess, Pallas, thus: “Thou son of Tydeus, dearest to my soul, Fear now no more with Mars himself to fight, Nor other God; such aid will I bestow.

Come then; at him the first direct thy car; Encounter with him hand to hand; nor fear