The Iliads of Homer Translated according to the Greek · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
For Juno; she offends him not, nor vexeth him so much, For ’tis her use to cross his will, her impudence is such, The habit of offence in this she only doth contract, And so grieves or incenseth less, though ne’er the less her fact. But thou most griev’st him, doggéd dame, whom he rebukes in time, Lest silence should pervert thy will, and pride too highly climb In thy bold bosom, desp’rate girl, if seriously thou dare Lift thy unwieldy lance ’gainst Jove, as thy pretences are.” She left them, and Saturnia said: “Ah me! Thou seed of Jove, By my advice we will no more unfit convention move With Jupiter, for mortal men; of whom, let this man die, And that man live, whoever he pursues with destiny; And let him, plotting all events, dispose of either host, As he thinks fittest for them both, and may become us most.” Thus turn’d she back, and to the Hours her rich-man’d horse resign’d, Who them t’ immortal mangers bound; the chariot they inclin’d Beneath the crystal walls of heav’n; and they in golden thrones Consorted other Deities, replete with passións, Jove, in his bright-wheel’d chariot, his fi’ry horse now, beats Up to Olympus, and aspir’d the Gods’ eternal seats.
Great Neptune loos’d his horse, his car upon the altar plac’d, And heav’nly-linen coverings did round about it cast. The Far-seer us’d his throne of gold. The vast Olympus shook Beneath his feet. His wife, and maid, apart places took, Nor any word afforded him. He knew their thoughts, and said: “Why do you thus torment yourselves? You need not sit dismay’d With the long labours you have us’d in your victorious fight, Destroying Trojans, ’gainst whose lives you heap such high despite. Ye should have held your glorious course; for, be assur’d, as far As all my pow’rs, by all means urg’d, could have sustain’d the war, Not all the host of Deities should have retir’d my hand From vow’d inflictions on the Greeks, much less you two withstand. But you, before you saw the fight, much less the slaughter there, Had all your goodly lineaments possess’d with shaking fear, And never had your chariot borne their charge to heav’n again, But thunder should have smit you both, had you one Trojan slain.” Both Goddesses let fall their chins upon their ivory breasts, Set next to Jove, contriving still afflicted Troy’s unrests.
Pallas for anger could not speak; Saturnia, contrary, Could not for anger hold her peace, but made this bold reply: “Not-to-be-suff’red Jupiter, what need’st thou still enforce Thy matchless pow’r? We know it well; but we must yield remorse To them that yield us sacrifice. Nor need’st thou thus deride Our kind obedience, nor our griefs, but bear our pow’rs applied To just protection of the Greeks, that anger tomb not all In Troy’s foul gulf of perjury, and let them stand should fall.” “Grieve not,” said Jove, “at all done yet; for, if thy fair eyes please This next red morning they shall see the great Saturnides Bring more destruction to the Greeks; and Hector shall not cease, Till he have rouséd from the fleet swift-foot Æacides, In that day, when before their ships, for his Patroclus slain, The Greeks in great distress shall fight; for so the Fates ordain. I weigh not thy displeaséd spleen, though to th’ extremest bounds Of earth and seas it carry thee, where endless night confounds Japet, and my dejected Sire, who sit so far beneath, They never see the flying sun, nor hear the winds that breath, Near to profoundest Tartarus. Nor, thither if thou went, Would I take pity of thy moods, since none more impudent.”
To this she nothing did reply. And now Sol’s glorious light Fell to the sea, and to the land drew up the drowsy night. The Trojans griev’d at Phœbus’ fall, which all the Greeks desir’d, And sable night, so often wish’d, to earth’s firm throne aspir’d. Hector (intending to consult) near to the gulfy flood, Far from the fleet, led to a place, pure and exempt from blood, The Trojans’ forces. From their horse all lighted, and did hear Th’ oration Jove-lov’d Hector made; who held a goodly spear, Elev’n full cubits long, the head was brass, and did reflect A wanton light before him still, it round about was deck’d With strong hoops of new-burnish’d gold. On this he lean’d, and said: “Hear me, my worthy friends of Troy, and you our honour’d aid. A little since, I had conceit we should have made retreat, By light of the inflaméd fleet, with all the Greeks’ escheat, But darkness hath prevented us; and saft, with special grace, These Achives and their shore-hal’d fleet. Let us then render place To sacred Night, our suppers dress, and from our chariot free Our fair-man’d horse, and meat them well. Then let there convoy’d be, From forth the city presently, oxen and well-fed sheep, Sweet wine, and bread; and fell much wood, that all night we may keep Plenty of fires, ev’n till the light bring forth the lovely morn, And let their brightness glaze the skies, that night may not suborn The Greeks’ escape, if they for flight the sea’s broad back would take; At least they may not part with ease, but, as retreat they make, Each man may bear a wound with him, to cure when he comes home, Made with a shaft or sharp’ned spear; and others fear to come, With charge of lamentable war, ’gainst soldiers bred in Troy.
Then let our heralds through the town their offices employ To warn the youth, yet short of war, and time-white fathers, past, That in our god-built tow’rs they see strong courts of guard be plac’d, About the walls; and let our dames, yet flourishing in years, That, having beauties to keep pure, are most inclin’d to fears (Since darkness in distressful times more dreadful is than light) Make lofty fires in ev’ry house; and thus, the dang’rous night, Held with strong watch, if th’ enemy have ambuscadoes laid Near to our walls (and therefore seem in flight the more dismay’d, Intending a surprise, while we are all without the town) They ev’ry way shall be impugn’d, to, ev’ry man’s renown. Perform all this, brave Trojan friends. What now I have to say Is all express’d; the cheerful morn shall other things display. It is my glory (putting trust in Jove, and other Gods) That I shall now expulse these dogs Fates sent to our abodes, Who bring ostents of destiny, and black their threat’ning fleet.
But this night let us hold strong guards; to-morrow we will meet (With fierce-made war) before their ships, and I’ll make known to all If strong Tydides from their ships can drive me to their wall, Or I can pierce him with my sword, and force his bloody spoil. The wishéd morn shall show his pow’r, if he can shun his foil I running on him with my lance. I think; when day ascends, He shall lie wounded with the first, and by him many friends. O that I were as sure to live immortal, and sustain No frailties with increasing years, but evermore remain Ador’d like Pallas, or the Sun, as all doubts die in me That heav’n’s next light shall be the last the Greeks shall ever see!” This speech all Trojans did applaud; who from their traces los’d Their sweating horse, which sev’rally with headstalls they repos’d, And fast’ned by their chariots; when others brought from town Fat sheep and oxen, instantly, bread, wine; and hewéd down Huge store of wood.
The winds transferr’d into the friendly sky Their supper’s savour; to the which they sat delightfully, And spent all night in open field; fires round about them shin’d. As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind, And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the brows Of all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows, And ev’n the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight, When the unmeasur’d firmament bursts to disclose her light, And all the signs in heav’n are seen, that glad the shepherd’s heart; So many fires disclos’d their beams, made by the Trojan part, Before the face of Ilion, and her bright turrets show’d. A thousand courts of guard kept fires, and ev’ry guard allow’d Fifty stout men, by whom their horse ate oats and hard white corn, And all did wishfully expect the silver-thronéd morn. [1] Virgil maketh this likewise his place, adding, _Bis patet in præceps tantum, tenditque sub umbras, etc._ To Agamemnon, urging hopeless flight, Stand Diomed, and Nestor, opposite. By Nestor’s counsel, legates are dismiss’d To Thetis’ son; who still denies t’ assist.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.