The Iliads of Homer Translated according to the Greek · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
His fall did so decline The spirit of his charioteer, that, lest he should incense The victor to impair his spoil, he durst not drive from thence His horse and chariot; and so pleas’d, with that respective part, Antilochus, that for his fear he reach’d him with a dart About his belly’s midst, and down his sad corse fell beneath The richly builded chariot, there labouring out his breath. The horse Antilochus took off; when, griev’d for this event, Deiphobus drew passing near, and at the victor sent A shining jav’lin; which he saw, and shunn’d, with gath’ring round His body in his all-round shield, at whose top, with a sound, It overflew; yet, seizing there, it did not idly fly from him that wing’d it, his strong hand still drave it mortally On Prince Hypsenor; it did pierce his liver, underneath The veins it passeth; his shrunk knees submitted him to death. And then did lov’d Deiphobus miraculously vaunt: “Now Asius lies not unreveng’d, nor doth his spirit want The joy I wish it, though it be now ent’ring the strong gate Of mighty Pluto, since this hand hath sent him down a mate.”
This glory in him griev’d the Greeks, and chiefly the great mind Of martial Antilochus, who though to grief inclin’d, He left not yet his friend, but ran and hid him with his shield; And to him came two lovely friends, that freed him from the field, Mecisteus, son of Echius, and the right nobly born Alastor, bearing him to fleet, and did extremely mourn. Idomenëus sunk not yet, but held his nerves entire, His mind much less deficient, being fed with firm desire To hide more Trojans in dim night, or sink himself in guard Of his lov’d countrymen. And then Alcathous prepar’d Work for his valour, off’ring fate his own destructión. A great heroë, and had grace to be the lovéd son Of Æsyetes, son-in-law to prince Æneas’ sire, Hippodamia marrying; who most enflam’d the fire Of her dear parents’ love, and took precedence in her birth Of all their daughters, and as much exceeded in her worth (For beauty answer’d with her mind, and both with housewif’ry) All the fair beauty of young dames that us’d her company, And therefore, being the worthiest dame, the worthiest man did wed Of ample Troy.
Him Neptune stoop’d beneath the royal force Of Idomen, his sparkling eyes deluding, and the course Of his illustrious lineaments so out of nature bound, That back nor forward he could stir, but, as he grew to ground, Stood like a pillar, or high tree, and neither mov’d, nor fear’d; When straight the royal Cretan’s dart in his mid breast appear’d, It brake the curets, that were proof to ev’ry other dart, Yet now they cleft and rung; the lance stuck shaking in his heart; His heart with panting made it shake; but Mars did now remit The greatness of it, and the king, now quitting the brag fit Of glory in Deiphobus, thus terribly exclaim’d: “Deiphobus, now may we think that we are ev’nly fam’d, That three for one have sent to Dis. But come, change blows with me, Thy vaunts for him thou slew’st were vain. Come, wretch, that thou may’st see What issue Jove hath. Jove begot Minos, the strength of Crete; Minos begot Deucalion; Deucalion did beget Me Idomen, now Creta’s king, that here my ships have brought To bring thyself, thy father, friends, all Ilion’s pomp, to nought.” Deiphobus at two ways stood, in doubt to call some one, With some retreat, to be his aid, or try the chance alone.
At last, the first seem’d best to him, and back he went to call Anchises’ son to friend, who stood in troop the last of all, Where still he serv’d; which made him still incense against the king, That, being amongst his best their peer, he grac’d not anything His wrong’d deserts. Deiphobus spake to him, standing near: “Æneas, prince of Troians, if any touch appear Of glory in thee, thou must now assist thy sister’s lord, And one that to thy tend’rest youth did careful guard afford, Alcathous, whom Creta’s king hath chiefly slain to thee, His right most challenging thy band. Come, therefore, follow me.” This much excited his good mind, and set his heart on fire Against the Cretan, who child-like dissolv’d not in his ire, But stood him firm. As when in hills a strength relying boar, Alone, and hearing hunters come, whom tumult flies before, Up-thrusts his bristles, whets his tusks, sets fire on his red eyes, And in his brave prepar’d repulse doth dogs and men despise; So stood the famous-for-his-lance, nor shunn’d the coming charge That resolute Æneas brought.
Yet, since the odds was large, He call’d with good right to his aid war-skill’d Ascalaphus, Aphareüs, Meriones, the strong Deipyrus, And Nestor’s honourable son: “Come near, my friends,” said he, “And add your aids to me alone. Fear taints me worthily, Though firm I stand, and show it not. Æneas great in fight, And one that bears youth in his flow’r, that bears the greatest might, Comes on with aim direct at me. Had I his youthful limb To bear my mind, he should yield fame, or I would yield it him.” This said, all held, in many souls, one ready helpful mind, Clapp’d shields and shoulders, and stood close. Æneas, not inclin’d With more presumption than the king, call’d aid as well as he, Divine Agenor, Helen’s love, who follow’d instantly, And all their forces following them; as after bellwethers The whole flocks follow to their drink, which sight the shepherd cheers. Nor was Æneas’ joy less mov’d to see such troops attend His honour’d person; and all these fought close about his friend; But two of them, past all the rest, had strong desire to shed The blood of either; Idomen, and Cytherea’s seed. Æneas first bestow’d his lance, which th’ other seeing shunn’d, And that, thrown from an idle hand, stuck trembling in the ground.
But Idomen’s, discharg’d at him, had no such vain success, Which Œnomaus’ entrails found, in which it did impress His sharp pile to his fall; his palms tore his returning earth. Idomenëus straight stepp’d in, and pluck’d his jav’lin forth, But could not spoil his goodly arms, they press’d him so with darts. And now the long toil of the fight had spent his vig’rous parts, And made them less apt to avoid the foe that should advance, Or, when himself advanc’d again, to run and fetch his lance, And therefore in stiff fights of stand he spent the cruel day. When, coming softly from the slain, Deiphobus gave way To his bright jav’lin at the king, whom he could never brook; But then he lost his envy too. His lance yet deadly took Ascalaphus, the son of Mars; quite through his shoulder flew The violent head, and down he fell. Nor yet by all means knew Wide-throated Mars his son was fall’n, but in Olympus’ top Sat canopied with golden clouds; Jove’s counsel had shut up Both him and all the other Gods from that time’s equal task, Which now, about Ascalaphus, strife set.
His shining casque Deiphobus had forc’d from him, but instantly leap’d in Mars-swift Meriones, and strook, with his long javelin, The right arm of Deiphobus, which made his hand let fall The sharp-topp’d helmet; the press’d earth resounding there withal. When, vulture-like, Meriones rush’d in again and drew, From out the low part of his arm his jav’lin, and then flew Back to his friends. Deiphobus, faint with the blood’s excess Fall’n from his wound, was carefully convey’d out of the press By his kind brother by both sides, Polites, till they gat His horse and chariot that were still set fit for his retreat, And bore him now to Ilion. The rest fought fiercely on, And set a mighty fight on foot. When next, Anchises’ son Aphareus Caletorides, that ran upon him, strook Just in the throat with his keen lance; and straight his head forsook His upright carriage; and his shield, his helm, and all, with him Fell to the earth; where ruinous death made prise of ev’ry limb. Antilochus, discov’ring well that Thoon’s heart took check, Let fly, and cut the hollow vein, that runs up to his neck, Along his back part, quite in twain; down in the dust he fell, Upwards, and, with extended hands, bade all the world farewell.
Antilochus rush’d nimbly in, and, looking round, made prise Of his fair arms; in which affair his round-set enemies Let fly their lances, thundering on his advanced targe, But could not get his flesh. The God that shakes the earth took charge Of Nestor’s son and kept him safe; who never was away, But still amongst the thickest foes his busy lance did play, Observing ever when he might, far off, or near, offend; And watching Asius’ son, in prease he spied him, and did send, Close coming on, a dart at him, that smote in midst his shield, In which the sharp head of the lance the blue-hair’d God made yield, Not pleas’d to yield his pupil’s life; in whose shield half the dart Stuck like a truncheon burn’d with fire; on earth lay th’ other part. He, seeing no better end of all, retir’d in fear of worse But him Meriones pursu’d; and his lance found full course To th’ other’s life. It wounded him betwixt the privy parts And navel, where, to wretched men that war’s most violent smarts Must undergo, wounds chiefly vex.
His dart Meriones Pursu’d, and Adamas so striv’d with it, and his misease, As doth a bullock puff and storm, whom in disdainéd bands The upland herdsmen strive to cast; so, fall’n beneath the hands Of his stern foe, Asiades did struggle, pant, and rave. But no long time; for when the lance was pluck’d out, up he gave His tortur’d soul. Then Troy’s turn came; when with a Thracian sword The temples of Deipyrus did Helenus afford So huge a blow, it strook all light out of his cloudy eyes, And cleft his helmet; which a Greek, there fighting, made his prise, It fell so full beneath his feet. Atrides griev’d to see That sight, and, threat’ning, shook a lance at Helenus, and he A bow half drew at him; at once out flew both shaft and lance. The shaft Atrides’ curets strook; and far away did glance. Atrides’ dart of Helenus the thrust out bow-hand strook, And, through the hand, stuck in the bow. Agenor’s hand did pluck From forth the nailéd prisoner the jav’lin quickly out; And fairly, with a little wool, enwrapping round about The wounded hand, within a scarf he bore it, which his squire Had ready for him. Yet the wound would needs he should retire.
Pisander, to revenge his hurt, right on the king ran he. A bloody fate suggested him to let him run on thee, O Menelaus, that he might, by thee, in dang’rous war Be done to death. Both coming on, Atrides’ lance did err. Pisander strook Atrides’ shield, that brake at point the dart Not running through; yet he rejoic’d as playing a victor’s part. Atrides, drawing his fair sword, upon Pisander flew; Pisander, from beneath his shield, his goodly weapon drew, Two-edg’d, with right sharp steel, and long, the handle olive-tree, Well-polish’d; and to blows they go. Upon the top strook he Atrides’ horse-hair’d-feather’d helm; Atrides on his brow, Above th’ extreme part of his nose, laid such a heavy blow That all the bones crash’d under it, and out his eyes did drop Before his feet in bloody dust; he after, and shrunk up His dying body, which the foot of his triumphing foe Open’d, and stood upon his breast, and off his arms did go, This insultation us’d the while: “At length forsake our fleet, Thus ye false Trojans, to whom war never enough is sweet. Nor want ye more impieties, with which ye have abus’d Me, ye bold dogs, that your chief friends so honourably us’d. Nor fear you hospitable Jove, that lets such thunders go.
But build upon’t, he will unbuild your tow’rs that clamber so, For ravishing my goods, and wife, in flow’r of all her years, And without cause; nay, when that fair and lib’ral hand of hers Had us’d you so most lovingly. And now again ye would Cast fire into our fleet, and kill our princes if ye could. Go to, one day you will be curb’d, though never so ye thirst Rude war, by war. O father Jove, they say thou art the first In wisdom of all Gods and men, yet all this comes from thee, And still thou gratifiest these men, how lewd so e’er they be, Though never they be cloy’d with sins, nor can be satiate, As good men should, with this vile war. Satiety of state, Satiety of sleep and love, satiety of ease, Of music, dancing, can find place; yet harsh war still must please Past all these pleasures, ev’n past these. They will be cloy’d with these Before their war joys. Never war gives Troy satieties.” This said, the bloody arms were oft; and to his soldiers thrown, He mixing in first fight again. And then Harpalion, Kind king Pylæmen’s son, gave charge; who to those wars of Troy His lovéd father followéd, nor ever did enjoy His country’s sight again.
He strook the targe of Atreus’ son Full in the midst; his jav’lin’s steel yet had no pow’r to run The target through; nor had himself the heart to fetch his lance, But took him to his strength, and cast on ev’ry side a glance, Lest any his dear sides should dart. But Merion, as he fled, Sent after him a brazen lance, that ran his eager head Through his right hip, and all along the bladder’s región Beneath the bone; it settled him, and set his spirit gone Amongst the hands of his best friends; and like a worm he lay Stretch’d on the earth, which his black blood imbru’d, and flow’d away. His corse the Paphlagonians did sadly wait upon, Repos’d in his rich chariot, to sacred Ilion; The king his father following, dissolv’d in kindly tears, And no wreak sought for his slain son. But, at his slaughterers Incenséd Paris spent a lance, since he had been a guest To many Paphlagonians; and through the prease it press’d. There was a certain augur’s son, that did for wealth excell, And yet was honest; he was born, and did at Corinth dwell; Who, though he knew his harmful fate, would needs his ship ascend.
His father, Polyidus, oft would tell him that his end Would either seize him at his house, upon a sharp disease, Or else among the Grecian ships by Trojans slain. Both these Together he desir’d to shun; but the disease, at last, And ling’ring death in it, he left, and war’s quick stroke embrac’d. The lance betwixt his ear and cheek ran in, and drave the mind Of both those bitter fortunes out. Night strook his whole pow’rs blind. Thus fought they, like the spirit of fire; nor Jove-lov’d Hector knew How in the fleet’s left wing the Greeks his down-put soldiers slew Almost to victory; the God that shakes the earth so well Help’d with his own strength, and the Greeks so fiercely did impel. Yet Hector made the first place good, where both the ports and wall (The thick rank of the Greek shields broke) he enter’d, and did skall, Where on the gray sea’s shore were drawn (the wall being there but slight) Protesilaus’ ships, and those of Ajax, where the fight Of men and horse were sharpest set.
There the Bœotian bands, Long-rob’d Iaons, Locrians, and, brave men of their hands, The Phthian and Epeian troops did spritefully assail The god-like Hector rushing in; and yet could not prevail To his repulse, though choicest men of Athens there made head; Amongst whom was Menestheus chief, whom Phidias followéd, Stichius and Bias, huge in strength. Th’ Epeian troops were led By Meges’ and Phylides’ cares, Amphion, Dracius. Before the Phthians Medon march’d, and Meneptolemus; And these, with the Bœotian pow’rs, bore up the fleet’s defence. Oïleus by his brother’s side stood close, and would not thence For any moment of that time. But, as through fallow fields Black oxen draw a well-join’d plough, and either ev’nly yields His thrifty labour, all heads couch’d so close to earth they plow The fallow with their horns, till out the sweat begins to flow, The stretch’d yokes crack, and yet at last the furrow forth is driven; So toughly stood these to their task, and made their work as even.
But Ajax Telamonius had many helpful men That, when sweat ran about his knees, and labour flow’d, would then Help bear his mighty sev’n-fold shield; when swift Oïliades The Locrians left, and would not make those murth’rous fights of prease, Because they wore no bright steel casques, nor bristled plumes for show, Round shields, nor darts of solid ash, but with the trusty bow, And jacks well-quilted with soft wool, they came to Troy, and were, In their fit place, as confident as those that fought so near, And reach’d their foes so thick with shafts, that these were they that brake The Trojan orders first; and then, the brave arm’d men did make Good work with their close fights before. Behind whom, having shot, The Locrians hid still; and their foes all thought of fight forgot With shows of those far-striking shafts, their eyes were troubled so. And then, assur’dly, from the ships, and tents, th’ insulting foe Had miserably fled to Troy, had not Polydamas Thus spake to Hector: “Hector, still impossible ’tis to pass Good counsel upon you. But say some God prefers thy deeds, In counsels wouldst thou pass us too? In all things none exceeds.
To some God gives the pow’r of war, to some the sleight to dance, To some the art of instruments, some doth for voice advance; And that far-seeing God grants some the wisdom of the mind, Which no man can keep to himself, that, though but few can find, Doth profit many, that preserves the public weal and state, And that, who hath, he best can prize. But, for me, I’ll relate Only my censure what’s our best. The very crown of war Doth burn about thee; yet our men, when they have reach’d thus far, Suppose their valours crown’d, and cease. A few still stir their feet, And so a few with many fight, sperst thinly through the fleet. Retire then, leave speech to the rout, and all thy princes call, That, here, in counsels of most weight, we may resolve of all, If having likelihood to believe that God will conquest give, We shall charge through; or with this grace, make our retreat, and live. For, I must needs affirm, I fear, the debt of yesterday (Since war is such a God of change) the Grecians now will pay. And since th’ insatiate man of war remains at fleet, if there We tempt his safety, no hour more his hot soul can forbear.”
This sound stuff Hector lik’d, approv’d, jump’d from his chariot, And said: “Polydamas make good this place, and suffer not One prince to pass it; I myself will there go, where you see Those friends in skirmish, and return (when they have heard from me Command that your advice obeys) with utmost speed.” This said, With day-bright arms, white plume, white scarf, his goodly limbs array’d, He parted from them, like a hill, removing, all of snow, And to the Trojan peers and chiefs he flew, to let them know The counsel of Polydamas. All turn’d, and did rejoice, To haste to Panthus’ gentle son, being call’d by Hector’s voice; Who, through the forefights making way, look’d for Deiphobus, King Helenus, Asiades, Hyrtasian Asius, Of whom, some were not to be found unhurt, or undeceas’d, Some only hurt, and gone from field. As further he address’d, He found within the fight’s left wing the fair-hair’d Helen’s love By all means moving men to blows; which could by no means move Hector’s forbearance, his friends’ miss so put his pow’rs in storm, But thus in wonted terms he chid: “You with the finest form, Impostor, woman’s man! where are, in your care mark’d, all these, Deiphobus, King Helenus, Asius Hyrtacides, Othryonëus Acamas? Now haughty Ilion Shakes to his lowest groundwork.
Now just ruin falls upon Thy head past rescue.” He replied: “Hector, why chid’st thou now, When I am guiltless? Other times, there are for ease, I know, Than these, for she that brought thee forth, not utterly left me Without some portion of thy spirit, to make me brother thee. But since thou first brought’st in thy force, to this our naval fight, I and my friends have ceaseless fought, to do thy service right. But all those friends thou seek’st are slain; excepting Helenus, Who parted wounded in his hand, and so Deiphobus; Jove yet averted death from them. And now lead thou as far As thy great heart affects, all we will second any war That thou endurest; and I hope, my own strength is not lost; Though least, I’ll fight it to his best; nor further fights the most.” This calm’d hot Hector’s spleen; and both turn’d where they saw the face Of war most fierce, and that was where their friends made good the place About renown’d Polydamas, and god-like Polypæt, Palmus, Ascanius, Morus that Hippotion did beget, And from Ascania’s wealthy fields but ev’n the day before Arriv’d at Troy, that with their aid they kindly might restore Some kindness they receiv’d from thence.
And in fierce fight with these, Phalces and tall Orthæus stood, and bold Cebriones. And then the doubt that in advice Polydamas disclos’d, To fight or fly, Jove took away, and all to fight dispos’d. And as the floods of troubled air to pitchy storms increase That after thunder sweeps the fields, and ravish up the seas, Encount’ring with abhorréd roars, when the engrosséd waves Boil into foam, and endlessly one after other raves; So rank’d and guarded th’ Ilians march’d; some now, more now, and then More upon more, in shining steel; now captains, then their men. And Hector, like man-killing Mars, advanc’d before them all, His huge round target before him, through thicken’d, like a wall. With hides well-couch’d with store of brass; and on his temples shin’d His bright helm, on which danc’d his plume; and in this horrid kind, (All hid within his world-like shield) he ev’ry troop assay’d For entry, that in his despite stood firm and undismay’d. Which when he saw, and kept more off, Ajax came stalking then, And thus provok’d him: “O good man, why fright’st thou thus our men? Come nearer. Not art’s want in war makes us thus navy-bound, But Jove’s direct scourge; his arm’d hand makes our hands give you ground. Yet thou hop’st, of thyself, our spoil.
But we have likewise hands To hold our own, as you to spoil; and ere thy countermands Stand good against our ransack’d fleet, your hugely-peopled town Our hands shall take in, and her tow’rs from all their heights pull down. And I must tell thee, time draws on, when, flying, thou shalt cry To Jove and all the Gods to make thy fair-man’d horses fly More swift than falcons, that their hoofs may rouse the dust, and bear Thy body, hid, to Ilion.” This said, his bold words were Confirm’d as soon as spoke. Jove’s bird, the high-flown eagle, took The right hand of their host; whose wings high acclamations strook From forth the glad breasts of the Greeks. Then Hector made reply: “Vain-spoken man, and glorious, what hast thou said? Would I As surely were the son of Jove, and of great Juno born, Adorn’d like Pallas, and the God that lifts to earth the morn, As this day shall bring harmful light to all your host, and thou, If thou dar’st stand this lance, the earth before the ships shalt strow, Thy bosom torn up, and the dogs, with all the fowl of Troy, Be satiate with thy fat and flesh.” This said, with shouting joy His first troops follow’d, and the last their shouts with shouts repell’d. Greece answer’d all, nor could her spirits from all show rest conceal’d. And to so infinite a height all acclamations strove, They reach’d the splendours stuck about the unreach’d throne of Jove.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.