The Iliads of Homer Translated according to the Greek · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
Antilochus his father’s horse then urg’d with all his sting Of scourge and voice: “Run low,” said he, “stretch out your limbs, and fly; With Diomed’s horse I bid not strive, nor with himself strive I; Athenia wings his horse, and him renowns; Atrides’ steeds Are they ye must not fail but reach; and soon, lest soon succeeds The blot of all your fames, to yield in swiftness to a mare, To female Æthe. What’s the cause, ye best that ever were, That thus ye fail us? Be assur’d, that Nestor’s love ye lose For ever, if ye fail his son. Through both your both sides goes His hot steel, if ye suffer me to bring the last prize home. Haste, overtake them instantly; we needs must overcome. This harsh way next us, this my mind will take, this I despise For peril, this I’ll creep through. Hard the way to honour lies, And that take I, and that shall yield.” His horse by all this knew He was not pleas’d, and fear’d his voice, and for a while they flew.
But straight more clear appear’d the strait Antilochus foresaw, It was a gasp the earth gave, forc’d by humours cold and raw, Pour’d out of Winter’s wat’ry breast, met there, and cleaving deep All that near passage to the lists. This Nestor’s son would keep, And left the roadway, being about. Atrides fear’d, and cried:[3] “Antilochus, thy course is mad; contain thy horse, we ride A way most dangerous; turn head, betime take larger field, We shall be splitted.” Nestor’s son with much more scourge impell’d His horse for this, as if not heard; and got as far before As any youth can cast a quoit. Atrides would no more; He back again, for fear himself, his goodly chariot, And horse together, strew’d the dust, in being so dusty hot Of thirsted conquest. But he chid, at parting, passing sore: “Antilochus,” said he, “a worse than thee earth never bore. Farewell, we never thought thee wise that were wise; but not so Without oaths shall the wreath, be sure, crown thy mad temples. Go.” Yet he bethought him, and went too, thus stirring up his steeds: “Leave me not last thus, nor stand vex’d. Let these fail in the speeds Of feet and knees, not you.
Shall these, these old jades, past the flow’r Of youth that you have, pass you?” This the horse fear’d, and more pow’r Put to their knees, straight getting ground. Both flew, and so the rest. All came in smokes, like spirits. The Greeks, set, to see who did best, Without the race, aloft, now made a new discovery, Other than that they made at first. Idomenëus’ eye Distinguish’d all, he knew the voice of Diomed, seeing a horse Of special mark, of colour bay, and was the first in course, His forehead putting forth a star, round like the moon, and white. Up stood the Cretan, utt’ring this: “Is it alone my sight, Princes and captains, that discerns another lead the race With other horse than led of late? Eumelus made most pace With his fleet mares, and he began the flexure as we thought; Now all the field I search, and find nowhere his view; hath nought Befall’n amiss to him? Perhaps he hath not with success Perform’d his flexure; his reins lost, or seat, or with the tress His chariot fail’d him, and his mares have outray’d with affright. Stand up, try you your eyes, for mine hold with the second sight; This seems to me th’ Ætolian king, the Tydean Diomed.”
“To you it seems so,” rusticly Ajax Oïleus said, “Your words are suited to your eyes. Those mares lead still that led, Eumelus owes them, and he still holds reins and place that did, Not fall’n as you hop’d. You must prate before us all, though last In judgment of all. Y’ are too old, your tongue goes still too fast, You must not talk so. Here are those that better thee, and look For first place in the censure.” This Idomenëus took In much disdain, and thus replied: “Thou best in speeches worst, Barbarous-languag’d, others here might have reprov’d me first, Not thou, unfitt’st of all. I bold a tripod with thee here, Or caldron, and our Gen’ral make our equal arbiter, Those horse are first, that when thou pay’st thou then may’st know.” This fir’d Oïliades more, and more than words this quarrel had inspir’d, Had not Achilles rose, and us’d this pacifying speech: “No more. Away with words in war. It toucheth both with breach Of that which fits ye. Your deserts should others reprehend That give such foul terms. Sit ye still, the men themselves will end The strife betwixt you instantly, and either’s own load bear On his own shoulders. Then to both the first horse will appear, And which is second.”
These words us’d, Tydides was at hand, His horse ran high, glanc’d on the way, and up they toss’d the sand Thick on their coachman; on their pace their chariot deck’d with gold Swiftly attended, no wheel seen, nor wheel’s print in the mould. Impress’d behind them. These horse flew a flight, not ran a race. Arriv’d, amids the lists they stood, sweat trickling down apace Their high manes and their prominent breasts; and down jumped Diomed, Laid up his scourge aloft the seat, and straight his prize was led Home to his tent. Rough Sthenelus laid quick hand on the dame, And handled trivet, and sent both home by his men. Next came Antilochus, that won with wiles, not swiftness of his horse, Precedence of the gold-lock’d king, who yet maintained the course So close, that not the king’s own horse gat more before the wheel Of his rich chariot, that might still the insecution feel With the extreme hairs of his tail (and that sufficient close Held to his leader, no great space it let him interpose Consider’d in so great a field) that Nestor’s wily son Gat of the king, now at his heels, though at the breach he won A quoit’s cast of him, which the king again at th’ instant gain’d. Æthe Agamemnonides, that was so richly man’d, Gat strength still as she spent; which words her worth had prov’d with deeds, Had more ground been allow’d the race; and coted far his steeds, No question leaving for the prize. And now Meriones A dart’s cast came behind the king, his horse of speed much less, Himself less skill’d t’ importune them, and give a chariot wing. Admetus’ son was last, whose plight Achilles pitying Thus spake: “Best man comes last; yet right must see his prize not least, The second his deserts must bear, and Diomed the best.”
He said, and all allow’d; and sure the mare had been his own, Had not Antilochus stood forth, and in his answer shown Good reason for his interest: “Achilles,” he replied, “I should be angry with you much to see this ratified. Ought you to take from me my right, because his horse had wrong, Himself being good? He should have us’d, as good men do, his tongue In pray’r to Their pow’rs that bless good, not trusting to his own, Not to have been in this good last. His chariot overthrown O’erthrew not me. Who’s last? Who’s first? Men’s goodness without these Is not our question. If his good you pity yet, and please Princely to grace it, your tents hold a goodly deal of gold, Brass, horse, sheep, women; out of these your bounty may be bold, To take a much more worthy prize than my poor merit seeks, And give it here before my face, and all these, that the Greeks May glorify your lib’ral hands. This prize I will not yield. Who bears this, whatsoever man, he bears a triéd field. His hand and mine must change some blows.” Achilles laugh’d, and said: “If thy will be, Antilochus, I’ll see Eumelus paid Out of my tents.
I’ll give him th’ arms, which late I conquer’d in Asteropæus, forg’d of brass, and wav’d about with tin; ‘Twill be a present worthy him.” This said, Automedon He sent for them. He went and brought; and to Admetus’ son Achilles gave them. He, well pleas’d, receiv’d them. Then arose Wrong’d Menelaus, much incens’d with young Antilochus. He bent to speak, a herald took his sceptre and gave charge Of silence to the other Greeks; then did the king enlarge The spleen he prison’d, utt’ring this: “Antilochus, till now[4] We grant thee wise, but in this act what wisdom utter’st thou? Thou hast disgrac’d my virtue, wrong’d my horse, preferring thine Much their inferiors. But go to, Princes, nor his nor mine Judge of with favour, him nor me; lest any Grecian use This scandal: ‘Menelaus won, with Nestor’s son’s abuse, The prize in question, his horse worst; himself yet wan the best By pow’r and greatness.’
Yet, because I would not thus contest To make parts taking, I’ll be judge; and I suppose none here Will blame my judgment, I’ll do right: Antilochus, come near, Come, noble gentleman, ’tis your place, swear by th’ earth-circling God, (Standing before your chariot and horse, and that self rod With which you scourg’d them in your hand) if both with will and wile You did not cross my chariot.” He thus did reconcile Grace with his disgrace, and with wit restor’d him to his wit: “Now crave I patience. O king, whatever was unfit;[5] Ascribe to much more youth in me than you. You, more in age And more in excellence, know well, the outrays that engage All young men’s actions; sharper wits, but duller wisdoms, still From us flow than from you; for which, curb, with your wisdom, will. The prize I thought mine, I yield yours, and, if you please, a prize Of greater value to my tent I’ll send for, and suffice Your will at full, and instantly; for, in this point of time, I rather wish to be enjoin’d your favour’s top to climb, Than to be falling all my time from height of such a grace.[6] O Jove-lov’d king, and of the Gods receive a curse in place.”
This said, he fetch’d his prize to him; and it rejoic’d him so, That as corn-ears shine with the dew, yet having time to grow, When fields set all their bristles up; in such a ruff wert thou.[7] O Menelaus, answ’ring thus: “Antilochus, I now, Though I were angry, yield to thee, because I see th’ hadst wit, When I thought not; thy youth hath got the mast’ry of thy spirit. And yet, for all this, ’tis more safe not to abuse at all Great men, than, vent’ring, trust to wit to take up what may fall; For no man in our host beside had eas’ly calm’d my spleen, Stirr’d with like tempest. But thyself hast a sustainer been Of much affliction in my cause; so thy good father too, And so thy brother; at thy suit, I therefore let all go, Give thee the game here, though mine own, that all these may discern King Menelaus bears a mind at no part proud or stern.” The king thus calm’d, Antilochus receiv’d, and gave the steed To lov’d Noemon to lead thence; and then receiv’d beside The caldron. Next, Meriones, for fourth game, was to have Two talents’ gold.
The fifth, unwon, renown’d Achilles gave To rev’rend Nestor, being a bowl to set on either end; Which through the press he carried him: “Receive,” said he, “old friend, This gift as fun’ral monument of my dear friend deceas’d, Whom never you must see again. I make it his bequest To you as, without any strife, obtaining it from all. Your shoulders must not undergo the churlish whoorlbat’s fall, Wrastling is past you, strife in darts, the foot’s celerity; Harsh age in his years fetters you, and honour sets you free.” Thus gave he it. He took, and joy’d; but, ere he thank’d, he said: “Now sure, my honourable son, in all points thou hast play’d The comely orator; no more must I contend with nerves; Feet fail, and hands; arms want that strength, that this and that swing serves Under your shoulders. Would to heav’n, I were so young chinn’d now, And strength threw such a many of bones, to celebrate this show, As when the Epians brought to fire, actively honouring thus, King Amaryncea’s funerals in fair Buprasius! His sons put prizes down for him; where not a man match’d me Of all the Epians, or the sons of great-soul’d Ætolie, No, nor the Pylians themselves, my countrymen. I beat Great Clytomedeus, Enops’ son, at buffets.
At the feat Of wrastling, I laid under me one that against me rose, Ancæus, call’d Pleuronius. I made Iphiclus lose The foot-game to me. At the spear, I conquer’d Polydore, And strong Phylëus. Actor’s sons, of all men, only bore The palm at horse-race, conquering with lashing on more horse, And envying my victory, because, before their course, All the best games were gone with me. These men were twins; one was A most sure guide, a most sure guide; the other gave the pass With rod and mettle. This was then. But now young men must wage These works, and my joints undergo the sad defects of age; Though then I was another man. At that time I excell’d[8] Amongst th’ heroes. But forth now; let th’ other rites be held For thy deceas’d friend; this thy gift in all kind part I take, And much it joys my heart, that still, for my true kindness’ sake, You give me mem’ry. You perceive, in what fit grace I stand Amongst the Grecians; and to theirs you set your graceful hand. The Gods give ample recompense of grace again to thee, For this and all thy favours!”
Thus, back through the thrust drave he, When he had stay’d out all the praise of old Neleides.[9] And now for buffets, that rough game, he order’d passages; Proposing a laborious mule, of six years old, untam’d, And fierce in handling, brought, and bound, in that place where they gam’d; And, to the conquer’d, a round cup. Both which he thus proclaims: “Atrides and all friends of Greece, two men, for these two games, I bid stand forth. Who best can strike, with high contracted fists, (Apollo giving him the wreath) know all about these lists, Shall win a mule, patient of toil; the vanquish’d, this round cup.” This utter’d; Panopëus’ son, Epëus, straight stood up, A tall huge man, that to the nail knew that red sport of hand, And, seizing the tough mule, thus spake: “Now let some other stand Forth for the cup; this mule is mine, at cuffs I boast me best. Is’t not enough I am no soldier? Who is worthiest At all works? None; not possible. At this yet this I say, And will perform this: Who stands forth, I’ll burst him, I will bray His bones as in a mortar. Fetch surgeons enow to take[10] His corse from under me.” This speech did all men silent make.
At last stood forth Euryalus, a man god-like, and son To king Mecisteus, the grandchild of honour’d Talaon. He was so strong that, coming once to Thebes, when Œdipus Had like rites solemniz’d for him, he went victorious From all the Thebans. This rare man Tydides would prepare, Put on his girdle, oxhide cords, fair wrought; and spent much care That he might conquer, hearten’d him, and taught him tricks. Both dress’d Fit for th’ affair, both forth were brought; then breast oppos’d to breast, Fists against fists rose, and, they join’d, rattling of jaws was there, Gnashing of teeth, and heavy blows dash’d blood out ev’rywhere. At length Epëus spy’d clear way, rush’d in, and such a blow Drave underneath the other’s ear, that his neat limbs did strow The knock’d earth, no more legs had he; but as a huge fish laid Near to the cold-weed-gath’ring shore, is with a north flaw fraid.
Shoots back, and in the black deep hides; so, sent against the ground, Was foil’d Euryalus, his strength so bid in more profound Deeps of Epëus, who took up th’ intranc’d competitor; About whom rush’d a crowd of friends, that through the clusters bore His falt’ring knees, he spitting up thick clods of blood, his head Totter’d of one side, his sense gone; when, to a by-place led, Thither they brought him the round cup. Pelides then set forth Prize for a wrastling; to the best a trivet, that was worth Twelve oxen, great and fit for fire; the conquer’d was t’ obtain A woman excellent in works; her beauty, and her gain, Priz’d at four oxen. Up he stood, and thus proclaim’d: “Arise, You wrastlers, that will prove for these.” Out stepp’d the ample size Of mighty Ajax, huge in strength; to him Laertes’ son, The crafty one, as huge in sleight. Their ceremony done Of making ready, forth they stepp’d, catch elbows with strong hands, And as the beams of some high house crack with a storm, yet stands The house, being built by well-skill’d men; so crack’d their backbones, wrinch’d With horrid twitches; in their sides, arms, shoulders, all bepinch’d, Ran thick the wales, red with the blood, ready to start out.
Both Long’d for the conquest and the prize; yet show’d no play, being loth To lose both. Nor could Ithacus stir Ajax; nor could he Hale down Ulysses, being more strong than with mere strength to be Hurl’d from all vantage of his sleight. Tir’d then with tugging play, Great Ajax Telamonius said: “Thou wisest man, or lay My face up, or let me lay thine; let Jove take care for these.” This said, he hois’d him up to air; when Laertiades His wiles forgat not, Ajax’ thigh he strook behind, and flat He on his back fell; on his breast Ulysses. Wonder’d at Was this of all; all stood amaz’d. Then the much-suff’ring man, Divine Ulysses, at next close the Telamonian A little rais’d from earth, not quite, but with his knee implied Lock’d legs; and down fell both on earth, close by each other’s side, Both fil’d with dust; but starting up, the third close they had made, Had not Achilles’ self stood up, restraining them, and bade: “No more tug one another thus, nor moil yourselves; receive Prize equal; conquest crowns ye both; the lists to others leave.” They heard, and yielded willingly, brush’d off the dust, and on Put other vests.
Pelides then, to those that swiftest run, Propos’d another prize; a bowl, beyond comparison, Both for the size and workmanship, past all the bowls of earth. It held six measures; silver all; but had his special worth For workmanship, receiving form from those ingenious men Of Sidon. The Phœnicians made choice, and brought it then Along the green sea, giving it to Thoas; by degrees It came t’ Eunæus, Jason’s son, who young Priamides, Lycaon, of Achilles’ friend bought with it; and this here Achilles made best game for him, that best his feet could bear. For second he propos’d an ox, a huge one, and a fat; And half a talent gold for last. These thus he set them at: “Rise, you that will assay for these.” Forth stepp’d Oïliades; Ulysses answer’d; and the third was, one esteem’d past these For footmanship, Antilochus. All rank’d, Achilles show’d The race-scope. From the start they glid. Oïliades bestow’d His feet the swiftest; close to him flew god-like Ithacus.
And as a lady at her loom, being young and beauteous, Her silk-shuttle close to her breast, with grace that doth inflame, And her white hand, lifts quick and oft, in drawing from her frame Her gentle thread, which she unwinds with ever at her breast Gracing her fair hand; so close still, and with such interest In all men’s likings, Ithacus unwound, and spent the race By him before, took out his steps with putting in their place Promptly and gracefully his own, sprinkled the dust before, And clouded with his breath his head. So facilie he bore His royal person, that he strook shouts from the Greeks, with thirst That he should conquer, though he flew: “Yet come, come, O come first,” Ever they cried to him. And this ev’n his wise breast did move To more desire of victory; it made him pray, and prove, Minerva’s aid, his fautress still: “O Goddess, hear,” said he, “And to my feet stoop with thy help, now happy fautress be.” She was, and light made all his limbs.
And now, both near their crown, Minerva tripp’d up Ajax’ heels, and headlong he fell down Amids the ordure of the beasts, there negligently left Since they were slain there; and by this, Minerva’s friend bereft Oïliades of that rich bowl, and left his lips, nose, eyes, Ruthfully smear’d. The fat ox yet he seiz’d for second prize, Held by the horn, spit out the tail, and thus spake all-besmear’d: “O villainous chance! This Ithacus so highly is endear’d To his Minerva, that her hand is ever in his deeds. She, like his mother, nestles him; for from her it proceeds, I know, that I am us’d thus.” This all in light laughter cast; Amongst whom quick Antilochus laugh’d out his coming last Thus wittily: “Know, all my friends, that all times past, and now, The Gods most honour most-liv’d men. Oïliades ye know More old than I, but Ithacus is of the foremost race, First generation of men. Give the old man his grace, They count him of the green-hair’d eld; they may; or in his flow’r; For not our greatest flourisher can equal him in pow’r Of foot-strife, but Æacides.”
Thus sooth’d he Thetis’ son Who thus accepted it: “Well, youth, your praises shall not run With unrewarded feet on mine, your half a talent’s prize I’ll make a whole one. Take you, sir.” He took, and joy’d. Then flies Another game forth. Thetis’ son set in the lists a lance, A shield, and helmet, being th’ arms Sarpedon did advance Against Patroclus, and he pris’d. And thus he nam’d th’ address: “Stand forth two the most excellent, arm’d, and before all these Give mutual onset to the touch and wound of either’s flesh. Who first shall wound, through other’s arms his blood appearing fresh, Shall win this sword, silver’d, and hatch’d; the blade is right of Thrace; Asteropæus yielded it. These arms shall part their grace With either’s valour; and the men I’ll liberally feast At my pavilion.” To this game the first man that address’d Was Ajax Telamonius; to him king Diomed. Both, in oppos’d parts of the press, full arm’d, both enteréd The lists amids the multitude, put looks on so austere, And join’d so roughly, that amaze surpris’d the Greeks in fear Of either’s mischief. Thrice they threw their fierce darts, and clos’d thrice. Then Ajax strook through Diomed’s shield, but did no prejudice, His curets saft him.
Diomed’s dart still over shoulders flew, Still mounting with the spirit it bore. And now rough Ajax grew So violent, that the Greeks cried: “Hold, no more. Let them no more. Give equal prize to either.” Yet the sword, propos’d before For him did best, Achilles gave to Diomed. Then a stone, In fashion of a sphere, he show’d; of no inventión, But natural, only melted through with iron. ’Twas the bowl That king Eetion us’d to hurl; but he bereft of soul By great Achilles, to the fleet, with store of other prise, He brought it, and propos’d it now both for the exercise And prize itself. He stood, and said: “Rise you that will approve Your arms’ strengths now in this brave strife. His vigour that can move This furthest, needs no game but this; for reach he ne’er so far With large fields of his own in Greece (and so needs for his car, His plough, or other tools of thrift, much iron) I’ll able this For five revolvéd years; no need shall use his messages To any town to furnish him, this only bowl shall yield Iron enough for all affairs.”
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.