Complete works of homer, p.9
Complete Works of Homer, page 9
She after, to th' odorous bed. While these to pleasure yield,
Perplexed Atrides, savage-like, ran up and down the field,
And every thickest troop of Troy, and of their far-called aid,
Searched for his foe, who could not be by any eye betrayed;
Nor out of friendship (out of doubt) did they conceal his sight,
All hated him so like their deaths, and owed him such despite.
At last thus spa Ice the king of men : " Hear me, ye men of Troy,
Ye Dardans, and the rest, whose pow'rs you in their aids employ.
The conquest on my brother's part ye all discern is clear,
Do you then Argive Helena, with all her treasure here,
Restore to us, and pay the mulct that by your vows is due,
Yield us an honoured recompense, and, all that should accrue
To our posterities, confirm; that when you render it,
Our acts may here be memorised." This all Greeks else thought fit.
BOOK IV.
ARGUMENT.
The Gods in council, at the last, decree
That famous llion shall expugned be;
And that their own continued faults may prove
The reasons that have so incensed Jove,
Minerva seeks, with more offences done
Against the lately injured Atreus' son
(A ground that clearest would make seen their sin),
To have the Lycian Pandarus begin.
He ('gainst the truce with sacred covenants bound)
Gives Menelaus a dishonoured wound.
Machaon heals him. Agamemnon then
To mortal war incenseth all his men.
The battles join; and in the heat of fight,
Cold death shuts many eyes in endless night.
ANOTHER ARGUMENT.
In Delta is the Gods' Assize;
The truce is broke; wars freshly rise.
WITHIN the fair-paved court of Jove he and the Gods conferred
About the sad events of Troy; amongst whom ministered
Blessed Hebe nectar. As they sat, and did Troy's towers behold,
They drank, and pledged each other round in full-crowned cups of gold.
The mirth at whose feast was begun by great Saturnides
In urging a begun dislike amongst the Goddesses,
But chiefly in his solemn queen, whose spleen he was disposed
To tempt yet further, knowing well what anger it inclosed.
And how wives' anger should be used. On which, thus pleased, he played :
“Two Goddesses there are that still give Menelaus aid,
And one that Paris loves. The two that sit from us so far
(Which Argive Juno is, and She that rules in deeds of war),
No doubt are pleased to see how well the late-seen fight did frame;
And yet, upon the adverse part, the laughter-loving Dame
Made her power good too for her friend; for, though he were so near
The stroke of death in th' others' hopes, she took him from them clear.
The conquest yet is questionless the martial Spartan king's.
We must consult then what events shall crown these future things,
If wars and combats we shall still with even successes strike,
Or as impartial friendship plant on both parts. If ye like
The last, and that it will as well delight as merely please
Your happy deities, still let stand old Priam's town in peace,
And let the Lacedsemon king again his queen enjoy."
As Pallas and Heaven's Queen sat close, complotting ill to Troy,
With silent murmurs they received this ill-liked choice from Jove;
'Gainst whom was Pallas much incensed, because the Queen of Love
Could not, without his leave, relieve in that late point of death
The son of Priam, whom she loathed; her wrath yet fought beneath
Her supreme wisdom, and was curbed; but Juno needs must ease
Her great heart with her ready tongue, and said : " What words are these,
Austere, and too-much-Saturn's son 1 Why wouldst thou render still
My labours idle, and the sweat of my industrious will
Dishonour with so little power? My chaxiot-horse are tired
With posting to and fro for Greece, and bringing banes desired
To people-must'ring Priamus, and his perfidious sons;
Yet thou protect'st and join'st with them whom each just Deity shuns.
Go on, but ever go resolved all other Gods have vowed
To pass thy partial course for Troy in all that makes it proud."
At this the cloud-compelling Jove a far-fetched sigh let fly,
And said: " Thou fury! What offence of such impiety
Hath Priam or his sons done thee, that, with so high a hate,
Thou shouldst thus ceaselessly desire to raze and ruinate
So well a builded town as Troy? I think, hadst thou the power,
Thou wouldst the ports and far-stretched walls fly over, and devour
Old Priam and his issue quick, and make all Troy thy feast,
And then at length I hope thy wrath and tired spleen would rest,
To which run on thy chariot, that naught be found in me
Of just cause to our future jars. In this yet strengthen thee,
And fix it in thy memory fast, that if I entertain
As peremptory a desire to level with the plain
A city where thy loved live, stand not betwixt my ire
And what it aims at, but give way, when thou hast thy desire,
Which now I grant thee willingly, although against my will,
For not beneath the ample snn, and heaven's star-bearing hill,
There is a town of earthly men so honoured in my mind
As sacred Troy; nor of earth's kings as Priam and his kind,
Who never let my altars lack rich feast of off'rings slain,
And their sweet savours; for which grace I honour them again."
Dread Juno, with the cow's fair eyes, replied: " Three towns there are
Of great and eminent respect both in my love and care;
Mycene, with the broad highways; and Argos, rich in horse;
And Sparta; all which three destroy, when thou enviest their force,
I will not aid them, nor malign thy free and sovereign will,
For if I should be envious, and set against their ill,
I know my envy were in vain, since thou art mightier far.
But we must give each other leave, and wink at either's war.
I likewise must have power to crown my works with wished end,
Because I am a Deity, and did from thence descend
Whence thou thyself, and th' elder born; wise Saturn was our sire;
And thus there is a twofold cause that pleads for my desire,
Being sister, and am called thy wife; and more, since thy command
Rules all Gods else, I claim therein a like superior hand.
All wrath before then now remit, and mutually combine
In either's empire; I, thy rule, and thou, illustrate, mine;
So will the other Gods agree, and we shall all be strong.
And first (for this late plot) with speed let Pallas go among
The Trojans, and some one of them entice to break the truce
By offering in some treacherous wound the honoured Greeks abuse."
The Father both of men and Gods agreed, and Pallas sent,
With these winged words, to both the hosts : " Make all haste, and invent
Some mean by which the men of Troy, against the truce agreed,
May stir the glorious Greeks to arms with some inglorious deed."
Thus charged he her with haste that did before in haste abound,
Who cast herself from all the heights with which steep heaven is crowned;
And as Jove, brandishing a star, which men a comet call,
Hurls out his curled hair abroad, that from his brand exhale
A thousand sparks, to fleets at sea, and every mighty host,
Of all presages and ill-haps a sign mistrusted most;
So Pallas fell 'twixt both the camps, and suddenly was lost,
When through the breast of all that saw she struck a strong amaze
With viewing in her whole descent her bright and ominous blaze.
When straight one to another turned, and said: " Now thundering Jove
(Great Arbiter of peace and arms) will either 'stablish love
Amongst our nations, or renew such war as never was."
Thus either army did presage, when Pallas made her pass
Amongst the multitude of Troy; who now put on the grace
Of brave Laodocus, the flow'r of old Antenor's race,
And sought for Lycian Pandarus, a man that, being bred
Out of a faithless family, she thought was fit to shed
The blood of any innocent, and break the covenant sworn;
He was Lycaon's son, whom Jove into a wolf did turn
For sacrificing of a child, and yet in arms renowned
As one that was inculpable. Him Pallas standing found,
And round about him his strong troops that bore the shady shields;
He brought them from ^Esepus flood let through the Lycian fields;
Whom standing near, she whispered thus : " Lycaon's warlike son,
Shall I despair at thy kind hands to have a favour- done?
Nor dar'st thou let an arrow fly upon the Spartan king?
It would be such a grace to Troy, and such a glorious thing,
That every man would give his gift; but Alexander's hand
Would load thee with them, if he could discover from his stand
His foe's pride struck down with thy shaft, and he himself ascend
The flaming heap of funeral. Come, shoot him, princely friend;
But first invoke the God of Light, that in thy land was born,
And is in archers' art the best that ever sheaf hath worn,
To whom a hundred first-ewed lambs vow thou in holy fire,
When safe to sacred Zelia's towers thy zealous steps retire."
With this the mad gift-greedy man Minerva did persuade,
Who instantly drew forth a bow, most admirably made
Of the antler of a jumping goat bred in a steep up-land,
Which archer-like (as long before he took his hidden stand,
The evicke skipping from a rock) into the breast he smote,
And headlong felled him from his cliff. The forehead of the goat
Held out a wondrous goodly palm that sixteen branches brought,
Of all which, joined, an useful bow a skilful bowyer wrought,
Which picked and polished, both the ends he hid with horns of gold.
And this bow, bent, he close laid down, and bade his soldiers hold
Their shields before him, lest the Greeks, discerning him, should rise
In tumults ere the Spartan king could be his arrow's prise.
Mean space, with all his care he choosed, and from his quiver drew
An arrow, feathered best for flight, and yet that never flew,
Strong-headed, and most apt to pierce; then took he up his bow,
And nock'd his shaft, the ground whence all their future grief did grow.
When, praying to his God the Sun, that was in Lycia bred,
And king of archers, promising that he the blood would shed
Of full an hundred first-fall'n lambs, all offered to his name,
When to Zelia's sacred walls from rescued Troy he came,
He took his arrow by the nock, and to his bended breast
The oxy sinew close he drew, even till the pile did rest
Upon the bosom of the bow; and as that savage prise
His strength constrained into an orb, as if the wind did rise
The coming of it made a noise, the sinew-forged string
Did give a mighty twang, and forth the eager shaft did sing,
Affecting speediness of flight, amongst the Achive throng.
Nor were the blessed Heavenly Powers unmindful of thy wrong,
O Menelaus, but, in chief, Jove's seed, the Pillager,
Stood close before, and slacked the force the arrow did confer
With as much care and little hurt as doth a mother use,
And keep off from her babe, when sleep doth through his pow'rs diffuse
His golden humour., and th' assaults of rude and busy flies
She still checks with her careful hand; for so the shaft she plies
That on the buttons made of gold which made his girdle fast,
And where his curets double were, the fall of it she placed.
And thus much proof she put it to: the buckle made of gold;
The belt it fastened, bravely wrought; his curets' double fold;
And last, the charmed plate he wore which helped him more than all,
And, 'gainst all darts and shafts bestowed, was to his life a wall;
So, through all these, the upper skin the head did only race;
Yet forth the blood flowed, which did muGh his royal person grace;
And showed upon his ivory skin, as doth a purple dye
Laid, by a dame of Caira, or lovely Mseony,
On ivory, wrought in ornaments to deck the cheeks of horse;
Which in her marriage room must lie; whose beauties have such force
That they are wished of many knights, but are such precious things,
That they are kept for horse that draw the chariots of kings,
Which horse, so decked, the charioteer esteems a grace to him;
Like these, in grace, the blood upon thy solid thighs did swim,
O Menelaus, down thy calves and ankles to the ground;
For nothing decks a soldier so, as doth an honoured wound.
Yet, fearing he had fared much worse, the hair stood up on end
On Agamemnon, when he saw so much black blood descend;
And stiff'ned with the like dismay was Menelaus too,
But seeing th' arrow's stale without, and that the head did go
No further than.it might be seen, he called his spirits again;
Which Agamemnon marking not, but thinking he was slain,
He gript his brother by the hand, and sighed as he would break,
Which sigh the whole host took from him, who thus at last did speak:
“O dearest brother, is't for this, that thy death must be wrought,
Wrought I this truce? For this hast thou the single combat fought
For all the army of the Greeks? For this hath Ilion sworn,
And trod all faith beneath their feet? Yet all this hath not worn
The right we challenged out of force; this cannot render vain
Our stricken right hands, sacred wine, nor all our off'rings slain;
For though Olympius be not quick in making good our ill,
He will be sure as he is slow, and sharplier prove his will.
Their own hands shall be ministers of those plagues they despise,
Which shall their wives and children reach, and all their progenies.
For both in mind and soul I know that there shall come a day
When Ilion, Priam, all his pow'r, shall quite be worn away,
When heaven-inhabiting Jove shall shake his fiery shield at all,
For this one mischief. This, I know, the world cannot recall.
But be all this, all my grief still for thee will be the same,
Dear brother. If thy life must here put out his royal flame,
I shall to sandy Argos turn with infamy my face,
And all the Greeks will call for home; old Priam and his race
Will flame in glory; Helena untouched be still their prey,
And thy bones in our enemies' earth our cursed fates shall lay;
Thy sepulchre be trodden down; the pride of Troy desire
Insulting on it, ' Thus, O thus, let Agamemnon's ire
In all his acts be expiate, as now he carries home
His idle army, empty ships, and leaves here overcome
Good Menelaus.' When this brave breaks in their hated breath,
Then let the broad earth swallow me, and take me quick to death."
“Nor shall this ever chance," said he, " and therefore be of cheer,
Lest all the army, led by you, your passions put in fear.
The arrow fell in no such place as death could enter at,
My girdle, curets doubled here, and my most trusted plate,
Objected all 'twixt me and death, the shaft scarce piercing one."
“Good brother," said the king, " I wish it were no further gone,
For then our best in medicines skilled shall ope and search the wound,
Applying balms to ease thy pains, and soon restore thee sound."
This said, divine Talthybius he call'd, and bade him haste
Machaon, iEsculapius' son, who most of men was graced
With physic's sovereign remedies, to come and lend his hand
To Menelaus shot by one well-skilled in the command
Of bow and arrows, one of Troy, or of the Lycian aid,
Who much hath glorified our foe, and us as much dismayed.
He heard, and hasted instantly, and cast his eyes about
The thickest squadrons of the Greeks, to find Machaon out.
He found him standing guarded well with well-armed men of Thrace;
With whom he quickly joined, and said : " Man of Apollo's race,
Haste, for the king of men commands to see a wound impressed
In Menelaus, great in arms, by one instructed best
In th' art of archery, of Troy, or of the Lycian bands,
That them with much renown adorns, us with dishonour brands."
Machaon much was moved with this, who with the herald flew
From troop to troop alongst the host, and soon they came in view
Of hurt Atrides circled round with all the Grecian kings,
Who all gave way, and straight he draws the shaft, which forth he brings
Without the forks; the girdle then, plate, curets, off he plucks,
And views the wound; when first from it the clotted blood he sucks,
Then medicines, wondrously composed, the skilful leech applied,
Which loving Chrion taught his sire, he from his sire had tried.
While these were thus employed to ease the Atrean martialist,
The Trojans armed, and charged the Greeks; the Greeks arm and resist.
