The Iliad Homer (big screen ebook reader txt) 📖

“Leave we the dead, my son, since it hath pleased
The gods that he should fall; and now receive
This sumptuous armor, forged by Vulcan’s hand,
Beautiful, such as no man ever wore.”

The goddess spake, and laid the armor down
Before Achilles; as they touched the earth,
The well-wrought pieces clanked, and terror seized
The Myrmidons. No one among them all
Dared fix his gaze upon them; all shrank back.
Achilles only, as he saw them, felt
His spirit roused within him. In his eyes
A terrible brightness flashed, as if of fire.
He lifted up the god’s magnificent gift
Rejoicing, and, when long his eyes had dwelt
Delighted on the marvellous workmanship,
Thus to his mother said, in wingèd words:⁠—

“A god indeed, my mother, must have given
These arms, the work of heavenly hands: no man
Could forge them. Now I arm myself for war.
But for the valiant Menoetiades
I greatly fear that flies will gather round
The wounds inflicted by the spear, and worms
Be bred within them, to pollute the corpse
Now that the life is gone, and taint the whole.”

And silver-footed Thetis answered thus:
“Son, have no care for that. The task be mine
To drive away the importunate swarm that feed
On heroes slain in battle. Though it lie
The whole year long, the body shall remain
Even more than uncorrupted. Call thou now
To council all the Achaian chiefs; renounce
Thy feud with Agamemnon, king of men,
And arm for war, and put on all thy might.”

She spake, and called a fiery courage up
Within the hero’s breast. The goddess then
Infused ambrosia and the ruddy juice
Of nectar through the nostrils of the dead
Into the frame, to keep it from decay.

Along the beach the great Achilles went,
Calling with mighty shouts the Grecian chiefs.
Then even they who till that day remained
Beside the fleet⁠—the pilots and the men
Who held the helm, the stewards of the ships,
And the purveyors⁠—all made haste to swell
The assembly, for they knew that he who long
Had borne no part in the disastrous war
Had now come forth. Two ministers of Mars,
The brave Tydides and the nobly born
Ulysses, both supported by their spears,
Came halting, for their wounds were painful yet;
They came and sat among the foremost chiefs.
And last came Agamemnon, king of men,
Wounded, for he had felt in thick of fight
The edge of the sharp spear which Coön bore,
Antenor’s son. Now when the Greeks were all
Assembled, swift Achilles rose and said:⁠—

“Atrides, of a truth it would have been
Better for both of us had we done this
At first, though sorely angered, when we strove
For a girl’s sake so fiercely. Would that she
Had perished in my ships, by Dian’s shaft,
The day on which I laid Lyrnessus waste!
So many Greeks would then have not been forced,
Slain by the enemy’s hand, to bite the dust
Of the great earth, while I was brooding o’er
My wrath. All that was for the good of Troy
And Hector; but the Greeks, I think, will long
Remember our contention. Let us leave
These things among the things that were, and, though
They make us grieve, let us subdue our minds
To what the time requires. Here then my wrath
Shall end; it is not meet that it should burn
Forever. Hasten thou and rouse to war
The long-haired Greeks, that I may yet again
Go forth among the men of Troy, and learn
If they design to encamp another night
Before the fleet. There is among them all
No man, I ween, who will not joyfully
Sit down when he escapes my deadly spear.”

He ended, and the Achaians all rejoiced
To hear the brave Pelides thus renounce
His anger. Agamemnon, king of men,
Then rose. He came not forth into the midst,
But stood beside his seat, and thus he spake:⁠—

“O friends, Achaian heroes, ministers
Of Mars! Whoever rises up to speak
’Tis well to hear him through, and not break in
Upon his speech, else is the most expert
Confounded. Who amid a clamorous throng
Can listen or can speak? The orator
Of clearest voice must utter it in vain.
Now I address Pelides; for the rest,
Hearken ye all, and ponder what I say.
The Greeks speak often of this feud, and cast
The blame on me. Yet was I not the cause,
But Jupiter and Fate, and she who walks
In darkness, dread Erynnis. It was they
Who filled my mind with fury in the hour
When from Achilles I bore off his prize.
What could I do? A deity prevails
In all things, Atè, mighty to destroy,
Daughter of Jove, and held in awe by all.
Delicate are her feet; she never comes
Near to the ground, but glides above the heads
Of men, to do them harm, and in her net
Entangles one at least of two who strive.
Jove, deemed the mightiest among men and gods,
Once felt her power of mischief. Him his spouse,
Juno, entrapped by cunning, when within
The massive walls of Thebes Alcmena lay
In childbed, and the mighty Hercules
Was near his birth. For Jupiter had said
Boastfully to the immortals: ‘Hear, ye gods
And goddesses, what I am moved to speak:
This day shall Ilithyia, who presides
At births, bring into light a prince whose rule
The neighboring tribes shall own; he shall be one
Who bears the blood of my illustrious race.’

“Imperial Juno thus, with words of guile,
Made answer: ‘What thou sayest will prove false,
Nor wilt thou keep thy word. Now swear to me,
Olympius, with the irrevocable oath,
That whosoever of thy race shall fall
This day between a woman’s feet shall bear
The rule o’er all the neighboring tribes.’ She spake,
And Jove, perceiving not her craft, complied,
And took the mighty oath, but afterward
Found himself wronged. For Juno, darting forth,
Shot from the Olympian summit, and at once
Alighted at Achaian Argos. There
She found the noble wife of Sthenelus,
The son of Perseus, pregnant with a son,
In the seventh month. She caused him to be born,
The number of his months yet incomplete,
And kept Alcmena’s hour of childbirth back,
And stayed her pangs. The goddess then made haste
To bear the tidings to Saturnian Jove.

“ ‘O Father Jupiter, by whom are hurled
The ruddy lightnings, I have news for thee.
A man-child of a generous stock is born⁠—
Eurystheus, whom the Argives shall obey⁠—
Born at this hour to Sthenelus, the son
Of Perseus, who is thine. And well it is
That such a prince should rule the Argive race.’

“She ended: Jupiter was deeply grieved,
And, seizing Atè by her shining locks,
In his great wrath, he swore