The Iliads of Homer Translated according to the Greek · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
Iota sings the Ambassy, And great Achilles’ stern reply. So held the Trojans sleepless guard; the Greeks to flight were giv’n, The feeble consort of cold fear, strangely infus’d from heav’n; Grief, not to be endur’d, did wound all Greeks of greatest worth. And as two lateral-sited winds, the west wind and the north, Meet at the Thracian sea’s black breast, join in a sudden blore, Tumble together the dark waves, and pour upon the shore A mighty deal of froth and weed, with which men manure ground; So Jove, and Troy did drive the Greeks, and all their minds confound. But Agamemnon most of all was tortur’d at his heart, Who to the voiceful heralds went, and bade them cite, apart, Each Grecian leader sev’rally, not openly proclaim. In which he labour’d with the first; and all together came. They sadly sate.
The king arose, and pour’d out tears as fast As from a lofty rock a spring doth his black waters cast, And, deeply sighing, thus bespake the Achives: “O my friends, Princes, and leaders of the Greeks, heav’n’s adverse King extends His wrath, with too much detriment, to my so just design, Since he hath often promis’d me, and bound it with the sign Of his bent forehead, that this Troy our vengeful hands should race, And safe return; yet, now engag’d, he plagues us with disgrace, When all our trust to him hath drawn so much blood from our friends. My glory, nor my brother’s wreak, were the proposéd ends, For which he drew you to these toils, but your whole countries’ shame, Which had been huge to bear the rape of so divine a dame, Made in despite of our revenge. And yet not that had mov’d Our pow’rs to these designs, if Jove had not our drifts approv’d; Which since we see he did for blood, ’tis desp’rate fight in us To strive with him; then let us fly; ’tis flight he urgeth thus.” Long time still silence held them all; at last did Diomed rise: “Atrides, I am first must cross thy indiscreet advice,[1] As may become me, being a king, in this our martial court.
Be not displeas’d then; for thyself didst broadly misreport In open field my fortitude, and call’d me faint and weak, Yet I was silent, knowing the time, loth any rites to break That appertain’d thy public rule, yet all the Greeks knew well, Of ev’ry age, thou didst me wrong. As thou then didst refell My valour first of all the host, as of a man dismay’d; So now, with fit occasion giv’n, I first blame thee afraid. Inconstant Saturn’s son hath giv’n inconstant spirits to thee, And, with a sceptre over all, an eminent degree; But with a sceptre’s sov’reign grace, the chief pow’r, fortitude, (To bridle thee) he thought not best thy breast should be endu’d. Unhappy king, think’st thou the Greeks are such a silly sort, And so excessive impotent, as thy weak words import? If thy mind move thee to be gone, the way is open, go; Mycenian ships enow ride near, that brought thee to this woe; The rest of Greece will stay, nor stir till Troy be overcome With full eversion; or if not, but (doters of their home) Will put on wings to fly with thee. Myself and Sthenelus Will fight till (trusting favouring Jove) we bring home Troy with us.”
This all applauded, and admir’d the spirit of Diomed; When Nestor, rising from the rest, his speech thus seconded: “Tydides, thou art, questionless, our strongest Greek in war, And gravest in thy counsels too, of all that equal are In place with thee, and stand on strength; nor is there any one Can blame, or contradict thy speech; and yet thou hast not gone So far, but we must further go. Thou’rt young, and well mightst be My youngest son, though still I yield thy words had high degree Of wisdom in them to our king, since well they did become Their right in question, and refute inglorious going home. But I (well known thy senior far) will speak, and handle all Yet to propose, which none shall check; no, not our general. A hater of society, unjust, and wild, is he That loves intestine war, being stuff’d with manless cruelty. And therefore in persuading peace, and home-flight, we the less May blame our gen’ral, as one loth to wrap in more distress His lovéd soldiers.
But because they bravely are resolv’d To cast lives after toils, before they part in shame involv’d, Provide we for our honour’d stay; obey black night, and fall Now to our suppers; then appoint our guards without the wall, And in the bottom of the dike; which guard I wish may stand Of our brave youth. And, Atreus’ son, since thou art in command Before our other kings, be first in thy command’s effect. It well becomes thee; since ’tis both what all thy peers expect, And in the royal right of things is no impair to thee. Nor shall it stand with less than right, that they invited be To supper by thee; all thy tents are amply stor’d with wine, Brought daily in Greek ships from Thrace; and to this grace of thine All necessaries thou hast fit, and store of men to wait; And, many meeting there, thou may’st hear ev’ry man’s conceit, And take the best. It much concerns all Greeks to use advice Of gravest nature, since so near our ships our enemies Have lighted such a sort of fires, with which what man is joy’d? Look, how all bear themselves this night; so live, or be destroy’d.” All heard, and follow’d his advice.
There was appointed then Sev’n captains of the watch, who forth did march with all their men. The first was famous Thrasymed, adviceful Nestor’s son; Ascalaphus; and Ialmen; and mighty Merion; Alphareus; and Deipyrus; and lovely Lycomed, Old Creon’s joy. These sev’n bold lords an hundred soldiers led, In ev’ry sever’d company, and ev’ry man his pike, Some placéd on the rampire’s top, and some amidst the dike. All fires made, and their suppers took. Atrides to his tent Invited all the peers of Greece, and food sufficient Appos’d before them, and the peers appos’d their hands to it. Hunger and thirst being quickly quench’d, to counsel still they sit. And first spake Nestor, who they thought of late advis’d so well, A father grave, and rightly wise, who thus his tale did tell: “Most high Atrides, since in thee I have intent to end, From thee will I begin my speech, to whom Jove doth commend The empire of so many men, and puts into thy hand A sceptre, and establish’d laws, that thou mayst well command, And counsel all men under thee.
It therefore doth behove Thyself to speak most, since of all thy speeches most will move; And yet to hear, as well as speak; and then perform as well A free just counsel; in thee still must stick what others tell. For me, what in my judgment stands the most convenient I will advise, and am assur’d advice more competent Shall not be giv’n; the gen’ral proof, that hath before been made Of what I speak, confirms me still, and now may well persuade, Because I could not then, yet ought, when thou, most royal king, Ev’n from the tent, Achilles’ love didst violently bring, Against my counsel, urging thee by all means to relent; But you, obeying your high mind, would venture the event, Dishonouring our ablest Greek, a man th’ Immortals grace. Again yet let’s deliberate, to make him now embrace Affection to our gen’ral good, and bring his force to field; Both which kind words and pleasing gifts must make his virtues yield.” “O father,” answeréd the king, “my wrongs thou tell’st me right. Mine own offence mine own tongue grants.
One man must stand in fight For our whole army; him I wrong’d; him Jove loves from his heart, He shows it in thus honouring him; who, living thus apart, Proves us but number, for his want makes all our weakness seen. Yet after my confess’d offence, soothing my hum’rous spleen, I’ll sweeten his affects again with presents infinite, Which, to prove my firm intent, I’ll openly recite: Sev’n sacred tripods free from fire; ten talents of fine gold; Twenty bright cauldrons; twelve young horse, well-shap’d, and well-controll’d, And victors too, for they have won the prize at many a race, That man should not be poor that had but what their wingéd pace Hath added to my treasury, nor feel sweet gold’s defect. Sev’n Lesbian ladies he shall have, that were the most select, And in their needles rarely skill’d, whom, when he took the town Of famous Lesbos, I did choose; who won the chief renown For beauty from their whole fair sex; amongst whom I’ll resign Fair Brisis, and I deeply swear (for any fact of mine That may discourage her receipt) she is untouch’d, and rests As he resign’d her.
To these gifts (if Jove to our requests Vouchsafe performance, and afford the work, for which we wait, Of winning Troy) with brass and gold he shall his navy freight; And, ent’ring when we be at spoil, that princely hand of his Shall choose him twenty Trojan dames, excepting Tyndaris, The fairest Pergamus enfolds; and, if we make retreat To Argos, call’d of all the world the Navel, or chief seat, He shall become my son-in-law, and I will honour him Ev’n as Orestes, my sole son, that cloth in honours swim. Three daughters in my well-built court unmarried are, and fair; Laodice, Chrysothemis that hath the golden hair, And Iphianassa; of all three the worthiest let him take All-jointureless to Peleus’ court; I will her jointure make, And that so great as never yet did any maid prefer, Sev’n cities right magnificent, I will bestow on her; Enope, and Cardamyle, Hira for herbs renown’d, The fair Æpea, Pedasus that doth with grapes abound, Anthæa girded with green meads, Phera surnam’d Divine; All whose bright turrets on the sea, in sandy Pylos, shine. Th’ inhabitants in flocks and herds are wondrous confluent, Who like a God will honour him, and him with gifts present, And to his throne will contribute what tribute he will rate.
All this I gladly will perform, to pacify his hate. Let him be mild and tractable; ’tis for the God of ghosts To be unrul’d, implacable, and seek the blood of hosts, Whom therefore men do much abhor; then let him yield to me, I am his greater, being a king, and more in years than he.” “Brave king,” said Nestor, “these rich gifts must make him needs relent, Choose then fit legates instantly to greet him at his tent, But stay; admit my choice of them, and let them straight be gone. Jove-lovéd Phœnix shall be chief, then Ajax Telamon, And prince Ulysses; and on them let these two heralds wait, Grave Odius and Eurybates, Come, lords, take water straight, Make pure your hand, and with sweet words appease Achilles’ mind, Which we will pray the king of Gods may gently make inclin’d.” All lik’d his speech; and on their hands the heralds water shed, The youths crown’d cups of sacred wine to all distributed. But having sacrific’d, and drunk to ev’ry man’s content, With many notes by Nestor giv’n, the legates forward went. With courtship in fit gestures us’d he did prepare them well, But most Ulysses, for his grace did not so much excel.
Such rites beseem ambassadors; and Nestor urgéd these, That their most honours might reflect enrag’d Æacides. They went along the shore, and pray’d the God, that earth doth bind In brackish chains, they might not fail, but bow his mighty mind. The quarter of the Myrmidons they reach’d, and found him set Delighted with his solemn harp, which curiously was fret With works conceited, through the verge; the bawdrick that embrac’d His lofty neck was silver twist; this, when his hand laid waste Aëtion’s city, he did choose as his especial prise, And, loving sacred music well, made it his exercise. To it he sung the glorious deeds of great heroës dead, And his true mind, that practice fail’d, sweet contemplation fed. With him alone, and opposite, all silent sat his friend, Attentive, and beholding him, who now his song did end. Th’ ambassadors did forwards press, renown’d Ulysses led, And stood in view. Their sudden sight his admiration bred, Who with his harp and all arose; so did Menœtius’ son When he beheld them. Their receipt Achilles thus begun: “Health to my lords! Right welcome men, assure yourselves you be, Though some necessity, I know, doth make you visit me, Incens’d with just cause ’gainst the Greeks.”
This said, a sev’ral seat With purple cushions he set forth, and did their ease intreat, And said: “Now, friend, our greatest bowl, with wine unmix’d and neat, Appose these lords, and of the depth let every man make proof, These are my best esteeméd friends, and underneath my roof.” Patroclus did his dear friend’s will; and he that did desire To cheer the lords, come faint from fight, set on a blazing fire A great brass pot, and into it a chine of mutton put, And fat goat’s flesh. Automedon held, while he pieces cut, To roast and boil, right cunningly; then of a well-fed swine A huge fat shoulder he cuts out, and spits it wondrous fine. His good friend made a goodly fire; of which the force once past, He laid the spit low, near the coals, to make it brown at last, Then sprinkled it with sacred salt, and took it from the racks. This roasted and on dresser set, his friend Patroclus takes Bread in fair baskets; which set on, Achilles brought the meat, And to divinest Ithacus took his opposéd seat Upon the bench. Then did he will his friend to sacrifice, Who cast sweet incense in the fire to all the Deities. Thus fell they to their ready food.
Hunger and thirst allay’d, Ajax to Phœnix made a sign, as if too long they stay’d Before they told their legacy. Ulysses saw him wink, And, filling the great bowl with wine, did to Achilles drink: “Health to Achilles! But our plights stand not in need of meat, Who late supp’d at Atrides’ tent, though for thy love we eat Of many things, whereof a part would make a cómplete feast. Nor can we joy in these kind rites, that have our hearts oppress’d, O prince, with fear of utter spoil. ’Tis made a question now, If we can save our fleet or not, unless thyself endow Thy pow’rs with wonted fortitude. Now Troy and her consórts, Bold of thy want, have pitch’d their tents close to our fleet and forts, And made a firmament of fires; and now no more, they say, Will they be prison’d in their walls, but force their violent way Ev’n to our ships; and Jove himself hath with his lightnings show’d Their bold adventures happy signs; and Hector grows so proud Of his huge strength, borne out by Jove, that fearfully he raves, Presuming neither men nor Gods can interrupt his braves.
Wild rage invades him, and he prays that soon the sacred Morn Would light his fury; boasting then our streamers shall be torn, And all our naval ornaments fall by his conqu’ring stroke, Our ships shall burn, and we ourselves lie stifled in the smoke. And I am seriously afraid, Heav’n will perform his threats, And that ’tis fatal to us all, far from our native seats, To perish in victorious Troy. But rise, though it be late, Deliver the afflicted Greeks from Troy’s tumultuous hate; It will hereafter be thy grief, when no strength can suffice To remedy th’ effected threats of our calamities. Consider these affairs in time, while thou mayst use thy pow’r. And have the grace to turn from Greece fate’s unrecover’d hour. O friend, thou know’st thy royal sire forewarn’d what should be done, That day he sent thee from his court to honour Atreus’ son: ‘My son,’ said he, ‘the victory let Jove and Pallas use At their high pleasures, but do thou no honour’d means refuse That may advance her. In fit bounds contain thy mighty mind, Nor let the knowledge of thy strength be factiously inclin’d, Contriving mischiefs. Be to fame and gen’ral good profess’d. The more will all sorts honour thee. Benignity is best.’
Thus charg’d thy sire, which thou forgett’st. Yet now those thoughts appease, That torture thy great spirit with wrath; which if thou wilt surcease, The king will merit it with gifts; and, if thou wilt give ear, I’ll tell how much he offers thee yet thou sitt’st angry here: Sev’n tripods that no fire must touch; twice-ten pans, fit for flame; Ten talents of fine gold; twelve horse that ever overcame, And brought huge prises from the field, with swiftness of their feet, That man should bear no poor account, nor want gold’s quick’ning sweet, That had but what he won with them; sev’n worthiest Lesbian dames, Renown’d for skill in housewif’ry, and bear the sov’reign fames For beauty from their gen’ral sex, which, at thy overthrow Of well-built Lesbos, he did choose; and these he will bestow, And with these her he took from thee, whom, by his state, since then, He swears he touch’d not, as fair dames use to be touch’d by men. All these are ready for thee now.
And, if at length we take, By helps of Gods, this wealthy town, thy ships shall burthen make Of gold and brass at thy desires, when we the spoil divide; And twenty beauteous Trojan dames thou shalt select beside, Next Helen, the most beautiful; and, when return’d we be To Argos, be his son-in-law, for he will honour thee Like his Orestes, his sole son, maintained in height of bliss. Three daughters beautify his court, the fair Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianesse; of all the fairest take To Peleus’ thy grave father’s court, and never jointure make; He will the jointure make himself, so great, as never sire Gave to his daughter’s nuptials. Sev’n cities left entire; Cardamyle, and Enope, and Hira full of flow’rs, Anthæa for sweet meadows prais’d, and Phera deck’d with tow’rs, The bright Epea, Pedasus that doth God Bacchus please; All, on the sandy Pylos’ soil, are seated near the seas; Th’ inhabitants in droves and flocks exceeding wealthy be, Who, like a God, with worthy gifts will gladly honour thee, And tribute of especial rate to thy high sceptre pay. All this he freely will perform, thy anger to allay.
But if thy hate to him be more than his gifts may repress, Yet pity all the other Greeks, in such extreme distress, Who with religion honour thee; and to their desp’rate ill Thou shalt triumphant glory bring; and Hector thou may’st kill, When pride makes him encounter thee, fill’d with a baneful sprite, Who vaunts our whole fleet brought not one, equal to him in fight.” Swift-foot Æacides replied: “Divine Laertes’ son, ’Tis requisite I should be short, and show what place hath won Thy serious speech, affirming nought but what you shall approve Establish’d in my settled heart, that in the rest I move No murmur nor exceptión; for, like hell mouth I loath, Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguish’d troth. What fits the freeness of my mind, my speech shall make display’d. Nor Atreus’ son, nor all the Greeks, shall win me to their aid, Their suit is wretchedly enforc’d, to free their own despairs, And my life never shall be hir’d with thankless desp’rate pray’rs; For never had I benefit, that ever foil’d the foe; Ev’n share hath he that keeps his tent, and he to field doth go, With equal honour cowards die, and men most valiant, The much performer, and the man that can of nothing vaunt.
No overplus I ever found, when, with my mind’s most strife To do them good, to dang’rous fight I have expos’d my life. But ev’n as to unfeather’d birds the careful dam brings meat, Which when she hath bestow’d, herself hath nothing left to eat; So, when my broken sleeps have drawn the nights t’ extremest length, And ended many bloody days with still-employéd strength, To guard their weakness, and preserve their wives’ contents infract, I have been robb’d before their eyes: Twelve cities I have sack’d Assail’d by sea, elev’n by land, while this siege held at Troy; And of all these, what was most dear, and most might crown the joy Of Agamemnon, he enjoy’d, who here behind remain’d: Which when he took, a few he gave, and many things retain’d, Other to optimates and kings he gave, who hold them fast, Yet mine he forceth; only I sit with my loss disgrac’d. But so he gain a lovely dame, to be his bed’s delight, It is enough; for what cause else do Greeks and Trojans fight? Why brought he hither such an host? Was it not for a dame? For fair-hair’d Helen? And doth love alone the hearts inflame Of the Atrides to their wives, of all the men that move?
Ev’ry discreet and honest mind cares for his private love, As much as they; as I myself lov’d Brisis as my life, Although my captive, and had will to take her for my wife. Whom since he forc’d, preventing me, in vain he shall prolong Hopes to appease me that know well the deepness of my wrong. But, good Ulysses, with thyself, and all you other kings, Let him take stomach to repel Troy’s fi’ry threatenings. Much hath he done without my help, built him a goodly fort, Cut a dike by it, pitch’d with pales, broad and of deep import; And cannot all these helps repress this kill-man Hector’s fright? When I was arm’d among the Greeks, he would not offer fight Without the shadow of his walls; but to the Scæan ports, Or to the holy beach of Jove, come back’d with his consorts; Where once he stood my charge alone, and hardly made retreat, And to make new proof of our pow’rs, the doubt is not so great.
To-morrow then, with sacrifice perform’d t’ imperial Jove And all the Gods, I’ll launch my fleet, and all my men remove; Which (if thou wilt use so thy sight, or think’st it worth respect) In forehead of the morn, thine eyes shall see, with sails erect Amidst the fishy Hellespont, help’d with laborious oars. And, if the Sea-god send free sail, the fruitful Phthian shores Within three days we shall attain, where I have store of prise Left, when with prejudice I came to these indignities. There have I gold as well as here, and store of ruddy brass, Dames slender, elegantly girt, and steel as bright as glass. These will I take as I retire, as shares I firmly save, Though Agamemnon be so base to take the gifts he gave. Tell him all this, and openly, I on your honours charge, That others may take shame to hear his lusts command so large, And, if there yet remain a man he hopeth to deceive (Being dyed in endless impudence) that man may learn to leave His trust and empire. But alas, though, like a wolf he be, Shameless and rude, he durst not take my prise, and look on me.
I never will partake his works, nor counsels, as before, He once deceiv’d and injur’d me, and he shall never more Tye my affections with his words. Enough is the increase Of one success in his deceits; which let him joy in peace, And bear it to a wretched end. Wise Jove hath reft his brain To bring him plagues, and these his gifts I, as my foes, disdain. Ev’n in the numbness of calm death I will revengeful be, Though ten or twenty times so much he would bestow on me, All he hath here, or any where, or Orchomen contains, To which men bring their wealth for strength, or all the store remains In circuit of Egyptian Thebes, where much hid treasure lies, Whose walls contain an hundred ports, of so admir’d a size Two hundred soldiers may a-front with horse and chariots pass. Nor, would he amplify all this like sand, or dust, or grass, Should he reclaim me, till this wreak pay’d me for all the pains That with his contumely burn’d, like poison, in my veins. Nor shall his daughter be my wife, although she might contend With golden Venus for her form, or if she did transcend Blue-ey’d Minerva for her works; let him a Greek select Fit for her, and a greater king.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.