The Iliad Homer (big screen ebook reader txt) 📖

“Shame on you, Greeks! We perish here, unless
We rescue with strong arms our host and fleet.
Think ye that, should the crested Hector seize
Our galleys, ye may reach your homes on foot?
Hear ye not Hector’s voice, who, fiercely bent
To burn our ships with fire, is cheering on
His warriors? To no dance he summons them,
But to the battle. Nought is left for us,
And other counsel there is none, save this:
Close with the foe; let every hand put forth
Its strength; far better’t were to die at once,
Or make at once our safety sure, than thus
To waste away, in lingering fight, beside
Our ships, destroyed by weaker arms than ours.”

So spake the chief, and all who heard received
Courage and strength. Then Hector put to death
Schedius, the son of Perimedes, prince
Of the Phocaeans. Ajax also slew
Laodamas, Antenor’s honored son,
A chief of infantry. Polydamas
Struck down Cyllenian Otus, who had come,
The comrade of Phylides, at the head
Of the high-souled Epeians. Meges saw,
And rushed upon Polydamas, who sprang
Aside unharmed, for Phoebus suffered not
The son of Panthoüs thus to be o’erthrown,
Fighting among the foremost. But the spear
Of Meges wounded Croesmus in the breast;
He fell with clanging arms. The slayer stripped
The corpse; but Dolops, son of Lampus, skilled
To wield the spear, leaped on him in the act.
Lampus, the father, best of men, was son
Of king Laomedon, and eminent
For warlike prowess. Dolops struck the shield
Of Meges in the midst; the corselet stayed
The blade with its close jointed plates, and saved
The warrior’s life. That corselet Phyleus brought
From Ephyrè, beside the Selleis,
Given by his host, Euphetes, king of men,
For his defence in battle, and it now
Preserved his son from death. Then Meges smote
With his sharp spear the helm that Dolops wore,
And from its summit struck the horse-hair crest,
New-tinged with purple, and the cone entire
Fell midst the dust. While Meges, standing firm,
Fought thus, and hoped the victory, to his aid
Came warlike Menelaus, unobserved,
And, standing near, smote Dolops from behind,
Beneath the shoulder, and drave through the spear
Till it appeared beyond. The Trojan fell
Upon his face, and both the Greeks rushed on
To wrench the brazen armor from his limbs,
When Hector saw his fall and called aloud
Upon the kindred of the slain. He first
Rebuked the valiant Melanippus, son
Of Hicetaon, who but lately fed
His slow-paced beeves at Percote, while yet
The enemy was far from Troy; but when
The Achaians landed from their well-oared barques,
He came to Troy, and took an eminent place
Among the Trojans. Near to Priam’s halls
He had his dwelling, honored equally
With Priam’s sons. Him Hector thus rebuked:⁠—

“Why, Melanippus, are we loitering thus?
Grievest thou not to see thy kinsman slain?
And see’st thou not how eagerly the Greeks
Are spoiling Dolops of his arms? Come on
With me. No time is this for distant fight,
But either we must rout the Greeks, or they
Will level to the ground the lofty towers
Of Ilium, and will slay its citizens.”

He spake, and led the way; his godlike friend
Followed him, while the son of Telamon,
Ajax, exhorted thus the sons of Greece:⁠—

“Be men, my friends, and let a noble dread
Of shame possess your hearts, and jealously
Look to each other’s honor in the heat
Of battle; for to men who flee there comes
No glory, and that way no safety lies.”

He spake, and all were eager to drive back
The assaulting foe; they heeded well his words,
And drew around their barques a fence of mail,
While Jove urged on the Trojans. Then it was
That Menelaus, brave in battle, spake
To rouse the courage of Antilochus:⁠—

“Antilochus, there is no other Greek
Younger than thou, or fleeter; none so strong
For combat. Would that, springing on the foe,
Thou mightest strike some Trojan warrior down.”

So speaking, he drew back; but he had roused
The courage of his friend, who, springing forth
From midst the foremost combatants, took aim,
First looking keenly round, with his bright spear,
From which the Trojans shrank as they beheld
The hero cast it. Not in vain he threw
The weapon, for it struck upon the breast
Brave Melanippus, Hicetaon’s son;
Beneath the pap it smote him as he came.
He fell with ringing arms; Antilochus
Sprang toward him like a hound that springs to seize
A wounded fawn, which, leaping from its lair,
Is stretched disabled by the hunter’s dart.
So sprang the stout Antilochus on thee,
O Melanippus!⁠—sprang to spoil thy limbs
Of armor; but the noble Hector saw,
And, hastening through the thick of battle, came
Against him. Mighty as he was in war,
Yet ventured not Antilochus to wait
His coming; but as flees a savage beast,
Conscious of guilty deed, when, having slain
Herdsman or hound, that kept the pastured kine,
He steals away before a crowd of men,
So fled the son of Nestor. On his rear
The Trojans under Hector poured a storm
Of weapons, and the din was terrible.
Yet when he reached the serried ranks of Greece
He turned and stood. Meanwhile the Trojan host,
Like ravening lions, fiercely rushed against
The galleys, that the will of Jupiter
Might be fulfilled; for now he nerved their limbs
With vigor ever new, while he denied
Stout hearts and victory to the Greeks, and cheered
Their foes with hope. His purpose was to give
The victory to Hector, Priam’s son,
Till he should cast upon the beaked ships
The fierce, devouring fire, and bring to pass
The end for which the cruel Thetis prayed.

Therefore did Jove the All-disposer wait
Till from a burning galley he should see
The flames arise. Then must the Trojan host⁠—
Such was his will⁠—retreating from the fleet,
Yield to the Greeks the glory of the day.
For this he moved the already eager heart
Of Hector, son of Priam, to attack
The roomy ships. The hero was aroused
To fury fierce as Mars when brandishing
His spear, or as a desolating flame
That rages on a mountain-side among
The thickets of a close-grown wood. His lips
Were white with foam; his eyes from underneath
His frowning brows streamed fire; and as he fought,
Upon the hero’s temples fearfully
The helmet nodded. Jupiter himself
Sent aid from his high seat, and heaped on him
Honor and fame beyond the other chiefs⁠—
And they were many⁠—for his term of life
Was to be short. Minerva even now
Was planning to bring on its closing day,
Made fatal by the might of Peleus’ son.
And now he strove to break the Grecian ranks,
Assaulting where he saw the thickest crowd
And the best weapons;