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

wrought the state, Ere now thy body had in stone been cas’d.”

 

To whom the godlike Paris thus replied: “Hector, I needs must own thy censure just, Nor without cause; thy dauntless courage knows Nor pause nor weariness; but as an axe, That in a strong man’s hand, who fashions out Some naval timber, with unbated edge

Cleaves the firm wood, and aids the striker’s force; Ev’n so unwearied is thy warlike soul.

Yet blame not me for golden Venus’ gifts: The gifts of Heav’n are not to be despis’d, Which Heav’n may give, but man could not command.

But if thou wilt that I should dare the fight, Bid that the Trojans and the Grecians all Be seated on the ground; and in the midst The warlike Menelaus and myself

Stand front to front, for Helen and the spoils Of war to combat; and whoe’er shall prove The better man in conflict, let him bear The woman and the spoils in triumph home; While ye, the rest, in peace and friendship sworn, Shall still possess the fertile plains of Troy; And to their native Argos they return, For noble steeds and lovely women fam’d.”

 

He said, and Hector joy’d to hear his words: Forth in the midst he stepp’d, and with his spear Grasp’d by the middle, stay’d the Trojan ranks.

At him the long-haired Grecians bent their bows, Prompt to assail with arrows and with stones; But loud the monarch Agamemnon’s voice Was heard; “Hold, Argives, hold! ye sons of Greece, Shoot not! for Hector of the glancing helm Hath, as it seems, some message to impart.”

 

He said; they held their hands, and silent stood Expectant, till to both thus Hector spoke: “Hear now, ye Trojans, and ye well-greav’d Greeks, The words of Paris, cause of all this war.

He asks through me that all the host of Troy And Grecian warriors shall upon the ground Lay down their glitt’ring arms; while in the midst The warlike Menelaus and himself

Stand front to front, for Helen and the spoils Of war to combat; and whoe’er shall prove The better man in conflict, let him bear The woman and the spoils in triumph home, While we, the rest, firm peace and friendship swear.”

 

Thus Hector spoke; the rest in silence heard; But Menelaus, bold in fight, replied:

“Hear now my answer; in this quarrel I May claim the chiefest share; and now I hope Trojans and Greeks may see the final close Of all the labours ye so long have borne T’ avenge my wrong, at Paris’ hand sustain’d.

And of us two whiche’er is doom’d to death, So let him die! the rest, depart in peace.

Bring then two lambs, one white, the other black, For Tellus and for Sol; we on our part Will bring another, for Saturnian Jove: And let the majesty of Priam too

Appear, himself to consecrate our oaths, (For reckless are his sons, and void of faith,) That none Jove’s oath may dare to violate.

For young men’s spirits are too quickly stirr’d; But in the councils check’d by rev’rend age, Alike are weigh’d the future and the past, And for all int’rests due provision made.”

 

He said, and Greeks and Trojans gladly heard, In hopes of respite from the weary war.

They rang’d the cars in ranks; and they themselves Descending doff’d their arms, and laid them down Close each by each, with narrow space between.

Two heralds to the city Hector sent

To bring the lambs, and aged Priam call; While Agamemnon to the hollow ships,

Their lamb to bring, in haste Talthybius sent: He heard, and straight the monarch’s voice obey’d.

 

Meantime to white-arm’d Helen Iris sped, The heav’nly messenger: in form she seem’d Her husband’s sister, whom Antenor’s son, The valiant Helicaon had to wife,

Laodice, of Priam’s daughters all

Loveliest of face: she in her chamber found Her whom she sought: a mighty web she wove, Of double woof and brilliant hues; whereon Was interwoven many a toilsome strife

Of Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks, For her encounter’d at the hand of Mars.

Beside her Iris stood, and thus she spoke: “Come, sister dear, and see the glorious deeds Of Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks.

They who erewhile, impatient for the fight, Roll’d o’er the plain the woful tide of war, Now silent sit, the storm of battle hush’d, Reclining on their shields, their lances bright Beside them reared; while Paris in the midst And warlike Menelaus, stand prepar’d

With the long spear for thee to fight; thyself The prize of conquest and the victor’s wife.”

 

Thus as she spoke, in Helen’s breast arose Fond recollection of her former Lord,

Her home, and parents; o’er her head she threw A snowy veil; and shedding tender tears She issu’d forth, not unaccompanied;

For with her went fair AEthra, Pittheus’ child, And stag-ey’d Clymene, her maidens twain.

They quickly at the Scaean gate arriv’d.

 

Attending there on aged Priam, sat,

The Elders of the city; Panthous,

And Lampus, and Thymaetes; Clytius,

Bold Icetaon, and Ucalegon,

With sage Antenor, wise in council both: All these were gather’d at the Scaean gate; By age exempt from war, but in discourse Abundant, as the cricket, that on high From topmost boughs of forest tree sends forth His delicate music; so on Ilium’s tow’rs Sat the sage chiefs and councillors of Troy.

Helen they saw, as to the tow’r she came; And “‘tis no marvel,” one to other said, “The valiant Trojans and the well-greav’d Greeks For beauty such as this should long endure The toils of war; for goddess-like she seems; And yet, despite her beauty, let her go, Nor bring on us and on our sons a curse.”

 

Thus they; but aged Priam Helen call’d: “Come here, my child, and sitting by my side, From whence thou canst discern thy former Lord, His kindred, and thy friends (not thee I blame, But to the Gods I owe this woful war), Tell me the name of yonder mighty chief Among the Greeks a warrior brave and strong: Others in height surpass him; but my eyes A form so noble never yet beheld,

Nor so august; he moves, a King indeed!”

 

To whom in answer, Helen, heav’nly fair: “With rev’rence, dearest father, and with shame I look on thee: oh would that I had died That day when hither with thy son I came, And left my husband, friends, and darling child, And all the lov’d companions of my youth: That I died not, with grief I pine away.

But to thy question; I will tell thee true; Yon chief is Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,

Wide-reigning, mighty monarch, ruler good, And valiant warrior; in my husband’s name, Lost as I am, I call’d him brother once.”

 

She spoke: th’ old man admiring gaz’d, and cried, “Oh bless’d Atrides, child of happy fate, Favour’d of Heav’n! how many noble Greeks Obey thy rule! In vine-clad Phrygia once I saw the hosts of Phrygian warriors wheel Their rapid steeds; and with them, all the bands Of Otreus, and of Mygdon, godlike King, Who lay encamp’d beside Sangarius’ stream: I too with them was number’d, in the day When met them in the field the Amazons, The woman-warriors; but their forces all Reach’d not the number of the keen-ey’d Greeks.”

 

Ulysses next the old man saw, and ask’d, “Tell me again, dear child, who this may be, In stature less than Atreus’ royal son, But broader-shoulder’d, and of ampler chest.

His arms are laid upon the fertile plain, But he himself is moving through the ranks, Inspecting, like a full-fleec’d ram, that moves Majestic through a flock of snow-white ewes.”

 

To whom Jove’s offspring, Helen, thus replied: “The wise Ulysses that, Laertes’ son:

Though bred in rugged Ithaca, yet vers’d In ev’ry stratagem, and deep device.”

“O woman,” then the sage Antenor said, “Of these thy words I can the truth avouch; For hither when on thine account to treat, Brave Menelaus and Ulysses came,

I lodg’d them in my house, and lov’d them both, And studied well the form and mind of each.

As they with Trojans mix’d in social guise, When both were standing, o’er his comrade high With broad-set shoulders Menelaus stood; Seated, Ulysses was the nobler form:

Then, in the great Assembly, when to all Their public speech and argument they fram’d, In fluent language Menelaus spoke,

In words though few, yet clear; though young in years, No wordy babbler, wasteful of his speech: But when the skill’d Ulysses rose to speak, With downcast visage would he stand, his eyes Bent on the ground; the staff he bore, nor back He wav’d, nor forward, but like one untaught, He held it motionless; who only saw

Would say that he was mad, or void of sense; But when his chest its deep-ton’d voice sent forth, With words that fell like flakes of wintry snow, No mortal with Ulysses could compare:

Then little reck’d we of his outward show.”

 

At sight of Ajax next th’ old man enquir’d; “Who is yon other warrior, brave and strong, Tow’ring o’er all with head and shoulders broad?”

 

To whom, in answer, Helen, heav’nly fair: “Gigantic Ajax that, the prop of Greece; And by his side Idomeneus of Crete

Stands godlike, circled round by Cretan chiefs.

The warlike Menelaus welcom’d him

Oft in our palace, when from Crete he came.

Now all the other keen-ey’d Greeks I see, Whom once I knew, and now could call by name; But two I miss, two captains of the host, My own two brethren, and my mother’s sons, Castor and Pollux; Castor, charioteer

Unrivalled, Pollux, matchless pugilist.

In Lacedaemon have they stay’d behind?

Or can it be, in ocean-going ships

That they have come indeed, but shun to join The fight of warriors, fearful of the shame, And deep disgrace that on my name attend?”

Thus she; but they beneath the teeming earth In Lacedaemon lay, their native land.

 

Meanwhile the heralds through the city bore The treaty off’rings to the Gods; the lambs, And genial wine, the produce of the soil, In goat-skin flasks: therewith a flagon bright, And cups of gold, Idaeus brought, and stood Beside the aged King, as thus he spoke: “Son of Laomedon, arise! the chiefs

Of Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks Call for thy presence on the battle-plain To swear a truce; where Paris in the midst And warlike Menelaus stand prepar’d

With the long spear for Helen and the spoils Of war to combat, that whoe’er may prove The better man in fight, may bear away The woman and the spoils in triumph home; While we, the rest, in peace and friendship sworn, Shall still possess the fertile plains of Troy; And to their native Argos they return.

For noble steeds and lovely women fam’d.”

 

He said; the old man shuddered at his words: But to his comrades gave command forthwith.

To yoke his car; and they his word obey’d.

Priam, ascending, gather’d up the reins, And with Antenor by his side, the twain Drove through the Scaean gate their flying steeds.

 

But when between th’ opposing ranks they came, Alighting from the car, they mov’d on foot Between the Trojan and the Grecian hosts.

Uprose then Agamemnon, King of men,

Uprose the sage Ulysses; to the front

The heralds brought the off’rings to the Gods, And in the flagon mix’d the wine, and pour’d The hallowing water on the monarchs’ hands.

His dagger then the son of Atreus drew, Suspended, as was wont, beside the hilt Of his great sword; and from the victim’s head He cut the sacred lock, which to the chiefs Of Troy and Greece the heralds portion’d out.

Then with uplifted hands he pray’d aloud: “O Father Jove! who rul’st from Ida’s height, Most great! most glorious! and thou