Complete works of homer, p.327
Complete Works of Homer, page 327
And not in later days; and here, 'mid friends,
How all occurr'd, will I at length recite.
Time was, that with AEtolia's warlike bands
Round Calydon the Acarnanians fought
With mutual slaughter; these to save the town,
The Acarnanians burning to destroy.
This curse of war the golden-throned Queen
Diana sent, in anger that from her
OEneus the first-fruits of his field withheld.
The other Gods their hecatombs receiv'd;
Diana's shrine alone no off'rings deck'd,
Neglected, or o'erlook'd; the sin was great;
And in her wrath the arrow-darting Queen
A savage wild-boar sent, with gleaming tusks,
Which OEneus' vineyard haunting, wrought him harm.
There laid he prostrate many a stately tree,
With root and branch, with blossom and with fruit.
Him Meleager, son of OEneus, slew,
With youths and dogs from all the neighbouring towns
Collected; smaller force had not avail'd,
So huge he was, so fierce; and many a youth
Had by his tusks been laid upon the bier.
A fierce contention then the Goddess rais'd,
For the boar's head and bristly hide, between
The Acarnanian and th' AEtolian bands.
While warlike Meleager kept the field,
So long the Acarnanians far'd but ill;
Nor dar'd, despite the numbers of their host,
Maintain their ground before the city walls.
When he to anger yielded, which sometimes
Swells in the bosom e'en of wisest men,
Incens'd against his mother, he withdrew
To Cleopatra fair, his wedded wife;
(Marpessa her, Evenus' daughter, bore
To Idas, strongest man of all who then
Were living, who against Apollo's self
For the neat-footed maiden bent his bow.
Her parents call'd the child Alcyone,
In mem'ry of the tears her mother shed,
Rival of Alcyon's melancholy fate,
When by far-darting Phoebus forc'd away).
With her, retiring from the field, he nurs'd
His wrath; resenting thus his mother's curse,
Althaea; she her brother's death bore hard,
And pray'd to Heav'n above, and with her hands
Beating the solid earth, the nether pow'rs,
Pluto and awful Proserpine, implor'd,
Down on her knees, her bosom wet with tears,
Death on her son invoking; from the depths
Of Erebus Erinnys heard her pray'r,
Gloom-haunting Goddess, dark and stern of heart.
Soon round the gates the din of battle rose,
The tow'rs by storm assaulted; then his aid
Th' AEtonian Elders and the sacred priests
With promises of great reward implor'd.
A fruitful plot they bade him set apart,
The richest land in lovely Calydon,
Of fifty acres: half for vineyard meet,
And half of fertile plain, for tillage clear'd.
Upon the threshold of his lofty rooms
Old OEneus stood, and at the portals clos'd
He knock'd in vain, a suppliant to his son.
His sisters and his brother join'd their pray'rs,
But sterner his rejection of their suit;
The friends he valued most, and lov'd the best,
Yet they too fail'd his fix'd resolve to shake;
Till to his very doors the war had reach'd,
The foe upon the tow'rs, the town in flames:
Then Meleager's beauteous wife, at length,
In tears, beseeching him, the thousand ills
Recall'd, which on a captur'd town attend;
The slaughter'd men, the city burnt with fire,
The helpless children and deep-bosom'd dames
A prey to strangers. List'ning to the tale,
His spirit was rous'd within him; and again
He took the field, and donn'd his glitt'ring arms.
Thus did his act from doom th' AEtolians save
Spontaneous; yet he gain'd not, though he sav'd,
The rich reward they once were pledg'd to give.
But be not thou like him, nor let thy God
Turn thitherward thy thoughts; our ships on fire,
Thine aid will less be priz'd; come, take the gifts,
And as a God be honour'd by the Greeks.
If thou hereafter, unsolicited,
The battle join, the Greeks thou mayst protect,
But not an equal share of honour gain."
Whom answer'd thus Achilles, swift of foot:
"Phoenix, my second father, rev'rend sire,
Such honours move me not; my honour comes
From Jove, whose will it is that I should here
Remain beside the ships, while I retain
Breath in my lungs and vigour in my limbs.
This too I say, and bear it in thy mind:
Disturb me not with weeping and complaints,
To do Atrides grace; if him thou love,
My love for thee perchance may turn to hate:
My friend should honour him who honours me.
But come with me, and of my kingdom half,
And equal honours shalt thou share with me.
These shall our message bear; stay thou the while,
And on soft couch repose; to-morrow morn
Will we determine or to sail or stay."
He said, and with his eyebrows gave a sign
In silence to Patroclus, to prepare
A bed for Phoenix, that without delay
The rest might leave the tent; then thus began
Ajax, the godlike son of Telamon:
"Ulysses sage, Laertes' high-born son,
Depart we now; for this way our discourse
Can lead to no result; behoves us bear
Our tidings, all unwelcome as they are,
Back to the chiefs awaiting our return.
Achilles hath allow'd his noble heart
To cherish rancour and malignant hate;
Nor reeks he of his old companions' love,
Wherewith we honour'd him above the rest.
Relentless he! a son's or brother's death,
By payment of a fine, may be aton'd;
The slayer may remain in peace at home,
The debt discharg'd; the other will forego,
The forfeiture receiv'd, his just revenge;
But thou maintain'st a stern, obdurate mood.
And for a single girl! we offer sev'n,
Surpassing fair, and other gifts to boot.
We now bespeak thy courtesy; respect
Thy hearth; remember that beneath thy roof
We stand, deputed by the gen'ral voice
Of all the host; and fain would claim to be,
Of all the Greeks, thy best and dearest friends."
Whom answer'd thus Achilles, swift of foot:
"Illustrious Ajax, son of Telamon,
Without offence hast thou thy message giv'n;
But fury fills my soul, whene'er I think
How Agamemnon, 'mid th' assembled Greeks,
Insulting, held me forth to public scorn,
As some dishonour'd, houseless vagabond.
But go ye now, and bear my answer back:
No more in bloody war will I engage,
Till noble Hector, Priam's godlike son,
O'er slaughter'd Greeks, your ships enwrapp'd in fire,
Shall reach the quarters of the Myrmidons.
Ere he assail my ship and tents, I think
That Hector, valiant as he is, will pause."
Thus he: they each the double goblet rais'd,
And, to the Gods their due libations pour'd,
Ulysses leading, to the ships return'd.
Meanwhile Patroclus bade th' attendant maids
Prepare a bed for Phoenix; they obey'd,
And quickly laid the bed with fleeces warm,
And rugs, and linen light and fine o'erspread.
There slept th' old man, and waited for the morn.
Within the tent's recess Achilles slept;
And by his side, from Lesbos captive brought,
Daughter of Phorbas, Diomede fair;
On th' other side Patroclus lay; with him
The graceful Iphis, whom, when Scyros' isle
He captur'd, and Enyes' rock-built fort,
Achilles to his lov'd companion gave.
When to Atrides' tent the envoys came,
The chiefs, uprising, pledg'd them one by one
In golden goblets; then their tidings ask'd.
First Agamemnon, King of men, enquir'd:
"Tell me, renown'd Ulysses, pride of Greece,
What says he: will he save our ships from fire,
Or still, in wrathful mood, withhold his aid?"
To whom again Ulysses, stout of heart:
"Most mighty Agamemnon, King of men,
His anger is not quench'd, but fiercer still
It glows; thy gifts and thee alike he spurns;
He bids thee with the other chiefs concert
The means thy people and thy ships to save;
And menaces himself at early dawn
To launch his well-trimm'd vessels on the main.
Nay more, he counsels others, so he says,
Homeward to turn, since here of lofty Troy
We see not yet the end; all-seeing Jove
O'er her extends his hand; on him relying,
Her people all with confidence are fill'd.
Such was his language; here before you stand
Ajax and both the heralds, sage, grave men,
Who with me went, and will confirm my words.
Old Phoenix left we there, so will'd the chief,
That with the morrow he with him may sail,
And seek their native land, if so he will;
For not by force will he remove him hence."
Ulysses thus; they all in silence heard,
Amaz'd, so stern the message that he bore.
Long time in silence sat the chiefs of Greece.
Outspoke at length the valiant Diomed:
"Most mighty Agamemnon, King of men,
Would that thou ne'er hadst stoop'd with costly gifts
To sue for aid from Peleus' matchless son;
For he before was over-proud, and now
Thine offers will have tenfold swoll'n his pride.
But leave we him, according to his will,
To go or stay: he then will join the fight,
When his own spirit shall prompt, or Heav'n inspire.
But hear ye all, and do as I advise:
Refresh'd with food and wine (for therein lie
Both strength and courage), turn we to our rest;
And when the rosy-finger'd morn appears,
Thyself among the foremost, with bold hearts,
Before our ships both horse and foot array."
He said; and all the chiefs with loud applause
His speech confirm'd; then, due libations pour'd,
Each to his sev'ral tent they all withdrew;
Then laid them down, and sought the boon of sleep.
ARGUMENT.
THE NIGHT ADVENTURE OF DIOMED AND ULYSSES.
Upon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, the distress of Agamemnon is described in the most lively manner. He takes no rest that night, but passes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and contriving all possible methods for the public safety. Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses, and Diomed, are employed in raising the rest of the captains. They call a council of war, and determine to send scouts into the enemy's camp, to learn their posture, and discover their intentions. Diomed undertakes the hazardous enterprise, and makes choice of Ulysses for his companion. In their passage they surprise Dolon, whom Hector had sent on a like design to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are informed of the situation of the Trojans and auxiliary forces, and particularly of Rhesus, and the Thracians, who were lately arrived. They pass on with success; kill Rhesus with several of his officers, and seize the famous horses of that prince, with which they return in triumph to the camp.
The same night continues; the scene lies in the two camps.
BOOK X.
In night-long slumbers lay the other chiefs
Of all the Greeks, by gentle sleep subdued;
But not on Agamemnon, Atreus' son,
By various cares oppress'd, sweet slumber fell.
As when from Jove, the fair-hair'd Juno's Lord,
Flashes the lightning, bringing in its train
Tempestuous storm of mingled rain and hail
Or snow, by winter sprinkled o'er the fields;
Or op'ning wide the rav'nous jaws of war;
So Agamemnon from his inmost heart
Pour'd forth in groans his multitudinous grief,
His spirit within him sinking. On the plain
He look'd, and there, alarm'd, the watchfires saw,
Which, far advanc'd before the walls of Troy,
Blaz'd numberless; and thence of pipes and flutes
He heard the sound, and busy hum of men.
Upon the ships he look'd, and men of Greece,
And by the roots his hair in handfuls tore
To Jove on high; deep groan'd his mighty heart.
Thus as he mus'd, the wisest course appear'd,
With Nestor, son of Neleus, to confer,
If they some scheme in council might devise
To ward destruction from the Grecian host.
He rose, and o'er his body drew his vest,
And underneath his well-turn'd feet he bound
His sandals fair; then o'er his shoulders threw,
Down reaching to his feet, a lion's skin,
Tawny and vast; then grasp'd his pond'rous spear.
On Menelaus weigh'd an equal dread;
Nor on his eyes that night had slumber sat,
Lest ill befall the Greeks; who, in his cause,
Crossing the wat'ry waste, had come to Troy,
And bold defiance to the Trojans giv'n.
Round his broad chest a panther's skin he threw;
Then on his head his brazen helmet plac'd,
And in his brawny hand a lance he bore.
To meet his brother went he forth, of Greece
The mighty monarch, as a God rever'd.
Him by the ship he found, in act to arm;
And welcome was his presence to the King.
Then valiant Menelaus first began:
"Why thus in arms, good brother? seek'st thou one
The Trojan camp to spy? I greatly fear
That none will undertake the task, alone
To spy the movements of the hostile camp
In the dark night: stout-hearted he must be."
To whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:
"Great need, my noble brother, have we both
Of sagest counsels, if we hope the Greeks
And Grecian ships from ruin to preserve,
Since turn'd against us is the mind of Jove.
To Hector's off'rings most his soul inclines;
For never have I seen, or heard men tell,
How in one day one man has wrought such loss
As Hector, dear to Jove, yet not the son
Of God or Goddess, on the Greeks has wrought.
Such deeds hath he achiev'd, such havoc made,
As we shall long in bitter mem'ry keep.
Haste thou amid the ships, and hither bring
Idomeneus and Ajax; I the while
Will Nestor rouse, and urge that he with us
The outposts visit, and instruct the guard.
To him they best will listen; for his son
Commands the watch; with him Meriones,
The follower of the King Idomeneus:
To them by pref'rence hath this charge been giv'n."
He said: and Menelaus answer'd thus:
"What wouldst thou have me do then? here remain
With them, and wait thy coming, or to them
Thy message give, and follow in thy steps?"
Him answer'd Agamemnon, King of men:
"Remain thou here, lest haply we might fail
To meet; for in the camp are many paths.
But thou, where'er thou go'st, each sev'ral man
Address, and ask to rise; to each his name
And patronymic giving; pay to each
All due respect; nor bear thee haughtily;
We like the rest must share the load of toil.
Which Jove assigns to all of mortal birth."
His brother thus with counsels wise dismiss'd,
The King to aged Nestor took his way:
Him by his tent and dark-ribb'd ship he found
On a soft couch; beside him lay his arms,
His shield, two lances, and a glitt'ring helm:
There lay the rich-wrought belt the old man wore,
When to the battle, arm'd, he led his troops;
For nought to age's weakness would he yield.
Raising his head, and on his elbow propp'd,
He question'd thus Atrides: "Who art thou,
That wand'rest through th' encampment thus alone,
In the dark night, when other mortals sleep?
Seek'st thou some mule broke loose, or comrade lost?
Speak, nor in silence come; what wouldst thou here?"
To whom thus Agamemnon, King of men:
"O Nestor! son of Neleus, pride of Greece,
Know me for Agamemnon, Atreus' son,
On whom hath Jove, beyond the lot of men,
Laid grief that ne'er shall end, while I retain
Breath in my lungs, and vigour in my limbs.
I wander thus, because these eyes of mine
Sweet slumber visits not, by cares of war
Oppress'd, and harass'd by the woes of Greece.
Much for the Greeks I fear; nor keeps my mind
Its wonted firmess; I am ill at ease;
And leaps my troubled heart as tho' 'twould burst
My bosom's bounds; my limbs beneath me shake.
But if thou wilt, since thou too know'st not sleep,
Together to the outposts let us go,
And see if there, by toil and sleep o'erpow'r'd,
The guard repose, neglectful of their watch.
The foe is close at hand; nor are we sure
He may not hazard e'en a night attack."
To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied;
"Most mighty Agamemnon, King of men,
Not all the hopes that Hector entertains
Shall by the Lord of counsel be fulfill'd;
