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

They, as reliefs, but yestermorn had come; Impell’d by Jove, they sought the battle field.

Onward they dash’d, impetuous as the rush Of the fierce whirlwind, which with lightning charg’d, From Father Jove sweeps downward o’er the plain: As with loud roar it mingles with the sea, The many-dashing ocean’s billows boil, Upheaving, foam-white-crested, wave on wave; So, rank on rank, the Trojans, closely mass’d, In arms all glitt’ring, with their chiefs advanc’d; Hector, the son of Priam, led them on, In combat terrible as blood-stain’d Mars: Before his breast his shield’s broad orb he bore, Of hides close join’d, with brazen plates o’erlaid; The gleaming helmet nodded o’er his brow.

He, with proud step, protected by his shield, On ev’ry side the hostile ranks survey’d, If signs of yielding he might trace; but they Unshaken stood; and with like haughty mien, Ajax at Hector thus defiance hurl’d:

 

“Draw nearer, mighty chief; why seek to scare Our valiant Greeks? we boast ourselves of war Not wholly unskill’d, though now the hand of Jove Lies heavy on us with the scourge of Heav’n.

Thou hop’st, forsooth, our vessels to destroy; But stalwart arms for their defence we boast.

Long ere that day shall your proud city fall, Tak’n and destroy’d by our victorious hands.

Not far the hour, when thou thyself in flight To Jove and all the Gods shalt make thy pray’r, That swifter than the falcon’s wing thy steeds May bear thee o’er the dusty plain to Troy.”

 

Thus as he spoke, upon his right appear’d An eagle, soaring high; the crowd of Greeks The fav’ring omen saw, and shouted loud: Then noble Hector thus: “What words are these, Ajax, thou babbling braggart, vain of speech!

For would to Heav’n I were as well assur’d I were the son of aegis-bearing Jove,

Born of imperial Juno, and myself

In equal honour with Apollo held

Or blue-ey’d Pallas, as I am assur’d

This day is fraught with ill to all the Greeks: Thou ‘mid the rest shalt perish, if thou dare My spear encounter, which thy dainty skin Shall rend; and slain beside the ships, thy flesh Shall glut the dogs and carrion birds of Troy.”

 

He said, and led them on; with eager cheers They followed; shouted loud the hindmost throng.

On th’ other side the Greeks return’d the shout: Of all the Trojans’ bravest they, unmov’d, The onset bore; their mingled clamours rose To Heav’n, and reach’d the glorious light of Jove.

 

ARGUMENT.

 

JUNO DECEIVES JUPITER BY THE GIRDLE OF VENUS.

 

Nestor, sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the increasing clamour of the war, and hastens to Agamemnon; on his way he meets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the extremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by night, which Ulysses withstands; to which Diomed adds his advice, that, wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with their presence; which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to overreach him; she sets off her charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god of Sleep, and with some difficulty persuades him to seal the eyes of Jupiter; this done, she goes to Mount Ida, where the god at first sight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid asleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the Greeks; Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax, and carried off from the battle; several actions succeed; till the Trojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way; the lesser Ajax signalizes himself in a particular manner.

 

BOOK XIV.

 

Nor did the battle-din not reach the ears Of Nestor, o’er the wine-cup; and his speech He thus address’d to AEsculapius’ son: “Say, good Machaon, what these sounds may mean; For louder swells the tumult round the ships.

But sit thou here, and drink the ruddy wine, Till fair-hair’d Hecamede shall prepare The gentle bath, and wash thy gory wounds; While I go forth, and all around survey.”

 

He said, and from the wall a buckler took, Well-wrought, with brass resplendent, which his son, Brave Thrasymedes, in the tent had left, While with his father’s shield himself was girt; A sturdy spear too, tipp’d with brass, he took: Without the tent he stood; and there his eyes A woful sight beheld; the Greeks in flight, The haughty Trojans pressing on their rout Confus’d; the Greeks’ protecting wall o’erthrown.

As heaves the darkling sea with silent swell, Expectant of the boist’rous gale’s approach; Nor onward either way is pour’d its flood, Until it feel th’ impelling blast from Heav’n; So stood th’ old man, his mind perplex’d with doubt, To mingle in the throng, or counsel seek Of mighty Agamemnon, Atreus’ son.

Thus as he mused, the better course appear’d, To seek Atrides; fiercely fought the rest With mutual slaughter; loud their armour rang With thrusts of swords and double-pointed spears.

There Nestor met, advancing from the ships, The Heav’n-born Kings, Ulysses, Diomed, And Agamemnon, son of Atreus, all

By wounds disabled; for the ships were beach’d Upon the shore, beside the hoary sea,

Far from the battle; higher, tow’rd the plain The foremost had been drawn, and with a wall Their sterns surrounded; for the spacious beach Could not contain them, and in narrow bounds Were pent their multitudes; so high on land They drew, and rang’d them side by side, and fill’d, Within the headlands, all the wide-mouth’d bay.

Thus they, their steps supporting on their spears, Together came, spectators of the fight; Deep sorrow fill’d their breasts; them Nestor met, The fear increasing, which their souls possess’d.

To whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:

 

“O Nestor, son of Neleus, pride of Greece, Why com’st thou here, and leav’st the battle-field?

Greatly I fear that noble Hector now

His menace will fulfil, who made his boast Before th’ assembled Trojans, that to Troy He never would return, until our ships The flames had master’d, and ourselves the sword.

Such was his threat, and now he makes it good.

Heav’n! can it be that I of other Greeks, As of Achilles, have incurr’d the wrath, Who thence refuse to battle for the ships?”

 

To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:

“Such are indeed our prospects; Jove on high Could to our fortunes give no diff’rent turn.

The wall is raz’d, wherein our trust we plac’d To guard, impregnable, ourselves and ships; And now around the ships their war they wage, Unceasing, unabated; none might tell

By closest scrutiny, which way are driv’n The routed Greeks, so intermix’d they fall Promiscuous; and the cry ascends to Heav’n.

But come, discuss we what may best be done, If judgment aught may profit us; ourselves To mingle in the fray I counsel not;

It were not well for wounded men to fight.”

 

Whom answer’d Agamemnon, King of men:

“Nestor, since to the ships the war is brought, Nor hath the wall avail’d to stay their course, Nor yet the deep-dug trench, on which we Greeks Much toil bestow’d, and which we vainly hop’d Might guard, impregnable, ourselves and ships; Seems it the will of Saturn’s mighty son That, far from Argos, from our native land, We all should here in nameless graves be laid.

I knew when once he lov’d to aid the Greeks; But now I see that to the blessed Gods Our foes he equals, and our strength confounds.

Hear then my counsel; let us all agree The ships that nearest to the sea are beach’d To launch upon the main, till nightfall there To ride at anchor: if that e’en by night The Trojans may suspend their fierce assault; Then may we launch in safety all the fleet.

No shame it is to fly, although by night, Impending evil; better so to fly

Than by the threaten’d danger be o’erta’en.”

 

To whom, with scornful glance, Ulysses sage: “What words have pass’d the barrier of thy lips, Thou son of Atreus? counsellor of ill!

Would thou hadst been of some ignoble band The leader, not the chief of such a host As ours, on whom, from youth to latest age, Jove hath the gift bestow’d, to bear the brunt Of hardy war, till ev’ry man be slain.

And think’st thou so to leave the lofty walls Of Troy, the object of our painful toil?

Be silent, that no other Greek may hear Words, which no man might trust his tongue to speak, Who nobler counsels understands, and wields A royal sceptre, and th’ allegiance claims Of numbers, such as those that own thy sway.

Thy counsels all I utterly condemn;

Who, ‘mid the close and clamour of the fight, Wouldst have us launch our ships, and give the foe, Already too triumphant, cause renew’d

For boasting; then were death our certain lot; For, if the ships he launch’d, not long will Greeks Sustain the war, but with reverted eyes Shrink from the fight; to such pernicious end Would lead thy baneful counsels, mighty chief.”

 

Whom answer’d Agamemnon, King of men:

“Ulysses, thy rebuke hath wrung my soul; Yet never meant I, that against their will The sons of Greece should launch their well found ships: But if there be who better counsel knows, Or young or old, his words would please me well.”

 

Then rose the valiant Diomed, and said: “The man is near at hand, nor far to seek, If ye will hear, nor take offence, that I, The youngest of you all, presume to speak.

Yet of a noble sire I boast me sprung, Tydeus, who sleeps beneath the Theban soil: To Portheus three brave sons were born, who dwelt In Pleuron and in lofty Calydon,

Agrius, and Melas; bravest of them all, My father’s father, OEneus, was the third.

He there remain’d; my father, wand’ring long, To Argos came; such was the will of Jove And of th’ Immortals all; he there espous’d Adrastus’ daughter; own’d a wealthy house, With fertile corn-lands round, and orchards stor’d With goodly fruit-trees; num’rous flocks he had, And all the Greeks in feats of arms excell’d.

Hear ye the words I speak, for they are true: And if my speech be wise, despise it not, As of one worthless, or ignobly born.

Though wounded, to the battle I advise That we perforce repair; yet not ourselves To join the combat, or confront the spears, Lest wounds to wounds be added; but to rouse The spirits of some, who, zealous heretofore, How stand aloof, nor mingle in the fray.”

 

He said, and they, his words approving, went, By Agamemnon led, the King of men.

Nor careless was the watch by Neptune kept: With them, in likeness of an aged man, He went, and Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,

By the right hand he took, and thus address’d: “O son of Atreus, great is now the joy With which Achilles’ savage breast is fill’d, Who sees the slaughter and the rout of Greeks: For nought he has of heart, no, not a whit: But perish he, accursed of the Gods!

Nor deem thou that to thee the blessed Gods Are wholly hostile; yet again the chiefs And councillors of Troy shall scour in flight The dusty plain; and from the ships and tents Thine eyes shall see them to the city fly.”

 

He said; and loudly shouting, onward rush’d.

As of nine thousand or ten thousand men, In deadly combat meeting, is the shout; Such was the sound which from his ample chest Th’ Earth-shaker sent; and ev’ry Greek inspir’d With stern resolve to wage unflinching war.

 

Standing on high Olympus’ topmost peak, The golden-throned Juno downward look’d, And, busied in the glory-giving strife,