Complete Works of Homer

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Complete Works of Homer Page 130

by Homer


  But I resolve thee. Thou behold'st the son

  Of Atreus, Agamemnon, mighty king,

  In arms heroic, gracious in the throne,

  And, (though it shame me now to call him such,)

  By nuptial ties a brother once to me.

  Then him the ancient King-admiring, said.

  Oh blest Atrides, happy was thy birth,

  And thy lot glorious, whom this gallant host

  So numerous, of the sons of Greece obey!

  To vine-famed Phrygia, in my days of youth,

  I journey'd; many Phrygians there I saw,

  Brave horsemen, and expert; they were the powers

  Of Otreus and of Mygdon, godlike Chief,

  And on the banks of Sangar's stream encamp'd.

  I march'd among them, chosen in that war

  Ally of Phrygia, and it was her day

  Of conflict with the man-defying race,

  The Amazons; yet multitudes like these

  Thy bright-eyed Greeks, I saw not even there.

  The venerable King observing next

  Ulysses, thus inquired. My child, declare

  Him also. Shorter by the head he seems

  Than Agamemnon, Atreus' mighty son,

  But shoulder'd broader, and of ampler chest;

  He hath disposed his armor on the plain,

  But like a ram, himself the warrior ranks

  Ranges majestic; like a ram full-fleeced

  By numerous sheep encompass'd snowy-white.

  To whom Jove's daughter Helen thus replied.

  In him the son of old Laërtes know,

  Ulysses; born in Ithaca the rude,

  But of a piercing wit, and deeply wise.

  Then answer thus, Antenor sage return'd.

  Princess thou hast described him: hither once

  The noble Ithacan, on thy behalf

  Ambassador with Menelaus, came:

  Beneath my roof, with hospitable fare

  Friendly I entertained them. Seeing then

  Occasion opportune, I closely mark'd

  The genius and the talents of the Chiefs,

  And this I noted well; that when they stood

  Amid the assembled counsellors of Troy,

  Then Menelaus his advantage show'd,

  Who by the shoulders overtopp'd his friend.

  But when both sat, Ulysses in his air

  Had more of state and dignity than he.

  In the delivery of a speech address'd

  To the full senate, Menelaus used

  Few words, but to the matter, fitly ranged,

  And with much sweetness utter'd; for in loose

  And idle play of ostentatious terms

  He dealt not, thhugh he were the younger man.

  But when the wise Ulysses from his seat

  Had once arisen, he would his downcast eyes

  So rivet on the earth, and with a hand

  That seem'd untutor'd in its use, so hold

  His sceptre, swaying it to neither side,

  That hadst thou seen him, thou hadst thought him, sure,

  Some chafed and angry idiot, passion-fixt.

  Yet, when at length, the clear and mellow base

  Of his deep voice brake forth, and he let fall

  His chosen words like flakes of feather'd snow,

  None then might match Ulysses; leisure, then,

  Found none to wonder at his noble form.

  The third of whom the venerable king

  Inquired, was Ajax. — Yon Achaian tall,

  Whose head and shoulders tower above the rest,

  And of such bulk prodigious — who is he?

  Him answer'd Helen, loveliest of her sex.

  A bulwark of the Greeks. In him thou seest

  Gigantic Ajax. Opposite appear

  The Cretans, and among the Chiefs of Crete

  stands, like a God, Idomeneus. Him oft

  From Crete arrived, was Menelaüs wont

  To entertain; and others now I see,

  Achaians, whom I could recall to mind,

  And give to each his name; but two brave youths

  I yet discern not; for equestrian skill

  One famed, and one a boxer never foiled;

  My brothers; born of Leda; sons of Jove;

  Castor and Pollux. Either they abide

  In lovely Sparta still, or if they came,

  Decline the fight, by my disgrace abash'd

  And the reproaches which have fallen on me.

  She said; but they already slept inhumed

  In Lacedemon, in their native soil.

  And now the heralds, through the streets of Troy

  Charged with the lambs, and with a goat-skin filled

  With heart-exhilarating wine prepared

  For that divine solemnity, return'd.

  Idæus in his hand a beaker bore

  Resplendent, with its fellow cups of gold,

  And thus he summon'd ancient Priam forth.

  Son of Laömedon, arise. The Chiefs

  Call thee, the Chiefs of Ilium and of Greece.

  Descend into the plain. We strike a truce,

  And need thine oath to bind it. Paris fights

  With warlike Menelaüs for his spouse;

  Their spears decide the strife. The conqueror wins

  Helen and all her treasures. We, thenceforth,

  (Peace sworn and amity) shall dwell secure

  In Troy, while they to Argos shall return

  And to Achaia praised for women fair.

  He spake, and Priam, shuddering, bade his train

  Prepare his steeds; they sedulous obey'd.

  First, Priam mounting, backward stretch'd the reins;

  Antenor, next, beside him sat, and through

  The Scæan gate they drove into the plain.

  Arriving at the hosts of Greece and Troy

  They left the chariot, and proceeded both

  Into the interval between the hosts.

  Then uprose Agamemnon, and uprose

  All-wise Ulysses. Next, the heralds came

  Conspicuous forward, expediting each

  The ceremonial; they the beaker fill'd

  With wine, and to the hands of all the kings

  Minister'd water. Agamemnon then

  Drawing his dagger which he ever bore

  Appendant to his heavy falchion's sheath,

  Cut off the forelocks of the lambs, of which

  The heralds gave to every Grecian Chief

  A portion, and to all the Chiefs of Troy.

  Then Agamemnon raised his hands, and pray'd.

  Jove, Father, who from Ida stretchest forth

  Thine arm omnipotent, o'erruling all,

  And thou, all-seeing and all-hearing Sun,

  Ye Rivers, and thou conscious Earth, and ye

  Who under earth on human kind avenge

  Severe, the guilt of violated oaths,

  Hear ye, and ratify what now we swear!

  Should Paris slay the hero amber-hair'd,

  My brother Menelaüs, Helen's wealth

  And Helen's self are his, and all our host

  Shall home return to Greece; but should it chance

  That Paris fall by Menelaüs' hand,

  Then Troy shall render back what she detains,

  With such amercement as is meet, a sum

  To be remember'd in all future times.

  Which penalty should Priam and his sons

  Not pay, though Paris fall, then here in arms

  I will contend for payment of the mulct

  My due, till, satisfied, I close the war.

  He said, and with his ruthless steel the lambs

  Stretch'd panting all, but soon they ceased to pant,

  For mortal was the stroke. Then drawing forth

  Wine from the beaker, they with brimming cups

  Hail'd the immortal Gods, and pray'd again,

  And many a Grecian thus and Trojan spake.

  All-glorious Jove, and ye th
e powers of heaven,

  Whoso shall violate this contract first,

  So be the brains of them and of their sons

  Pour'd out, as we this wine pour on the earth,

  And may their wives bring forth to other men!

  So they: but them Jove heard not. Then arose

  Priam, the son of Dardanus, and said,

  Hear me, ye Trojans and ye Greeks well-arm'd.

  Hence back to wind-swept Ilium I return,

  Unable to sustain the sight, my son

  With warlike Menelaüs match'd in arms.

  Jove knows, and the immortal Gods, to whom

  Of both, this day is preordain'd the last.

  So spake the godlike monarch, and disposed

  Within the royal chariot all the lambs;

  Then, mounting, check'd the reins; Antenor next

  Ascended, and to Ilium both return'd.

  First, Hector and Ulysses, noble Chief,

  Measured the ground; then taking lots for proof

  Who of the combatants should foremost hurl

  His spear, they shook them in a brazen casque;

  Meantime the people raised their hands on high,

  And many a Grecian thus and Trojan prayed.

  Jove, Father, who on Ida seated, seest

  And rulest all below, glorious in power!

  Of these two champions, to the drear abodes

  Of Ades him appoint who furnish'd first

  The cause of strife between them, and let peace

  Oath-bound, and amity unite the rest!

  So spake the hosts; then Hector shook the lots,

  Majestic Chief, turning his face aside.

  Forth sprang the lot of Paris. They in ranks

  Sat all, where stood the fiery steeds of each,

  And where his radiant arms lay on the field.

  Illustrious Alexander his bright arms

  Put on, fair Helen's paramour. He clasp'd

  His polish'd greaves with silver studs secured;

  His brother's corselet to his breast he bound,

  Lycaon's, apt to his own shape and size,

  And slung athwart his shoulders, bright emboss'd,

  His brazen sword; his massy buckler broad

  He took, and to his graceful head his casque

  Adjusted elegant, which, as he moved,

  Its bushy crest waved dreadful; last he seized,

  Well fitted to his gripe, his ponderous spear.

  Meantime the hero Menelaüs made

  Like preparation, and his arms put on.

  When thus, from all the multitude apart,

  Both combatants had arm'd, with eyes that flash'd

  Defiance, to the middle space they strode,

  Trojans and Greeks between. Astonishment

  Seized all beholders. On the measured ground

  Full near they stood, each brandishing on high

  His massy spear, and each was fiery wroth.

  First, Alexander his long-shadow'd spear

  Sent forth, and on his smooth shield's surface struck

  The son of Atreus, but the brazen guard

  Pierced not, for at the disk, with blunted point

  Reflex, his ineffectual weapon stay'd.

  Then Menelaüs to the fight advanced

  Impetuous, after prayer offer'd to Jove.

  King over all! now grant me to avenge

  My wrongs on Alexander; now subdue

  The aggressor under me; that men unborn

  May shudder at the thought of faith abused,

  And hospitality with rape repaid.

  He said, and brandishing his massy spear,

  Dismiss'd it. Through the burnish'd buckler broad

  Of Priam's son the stormy weapon flew,

  Transpierced his costly hauberk, and the vest

  Ripp'd on his flank; but with a sideward bend

  He baffled it, and baulk'd the dreadful death.

  Then Menelaüs drawing his bright blade,

  Swung it aloft, and on the hairy crest

  Smote him; but shiver'd into fragments small

  The falchion at the stroke fell from his hand.

  Vexation fill'd him; to the spacious heavens

  He look'd, and with a voice of wo exclaim'd —

  Jupiter! of all powers by man adored

  To me most adverse! Confident I hoped

  Revenge for Paris' treason, but my sword

  Is shivered, and I sped my spear in vain.

  So saying, he sprang on him, and his long crest

  Seized fast; then, turning, drew him by that hold

  Toward the Grecian host. The broider'd band

  That underbraced his helmet at the chin,

  Strain'd to his smooth neck with a ceaseless force,

  Chok'd him; and now had Menelaus won

  Deathless renown, dragging him off the field,

  But Venus, foam-sprung Goddess, feeling quick

  His peril imminent, snapp'd short the brace

  Though stubborn, by a slaughter'd ox supplied,

  And the void helmet follow'd as he pull'd.

  That prize the Hero, whirling it aloft,

  Threw to his Greeks, who caught it and secured,

  Then with vindictive strides he rush'd again

  On Paris, spear in hand; but him involved

  In mist opaque Venus with ease divine

  Snatch'd thence, and in his chamber placed him, fill'd

  With scents odorous, spirit-soothing sweets.

  Nor stay'd the Goddess, but at once in quest

  Of Helen went; her on a lofty tower

  She found, where many a damsel stood of Troy,

  And twitch'd her fragrant robe. In form she seem'd

  An ancient matron, who, while Helen dwelt

  In Lacedæmon, her unsullied wool

  Dress'd for her, faithfullest of all her train.

  Like her disguised the Goddess thus began.

  Haste — Paris calls thee — on his sculptured couch,

  (Sparkling alike his looks and his attire)

  He waits thy wish'd return. Thou wouldst not dream

  That he had fought; he rather seems prepared

  For dance, or after dance, for soft repose.

  So saying, she tumult raised in Helen's mind.

  Yet soon as by her symmetry of neck,

  By her love-kindling breasts and luminous eyes

  She knew the Goddess, her she thus bespake.

  Ah whence, deceitful deity! thy wish

  Now to ensnare me? Wouldst thou lure me, say,

  To some fair city of Mæonian name

  Or Phrygian, more remote from Sparta still?

  Hast thou some human favorite also there?

  Is it because Atrides hath prevailed

  To vanquish Paris, and would bear me home

  Unworthy as I am, that thou attempt'st

  Again to cheat me? Go thyself — sit thou

  Beside him — for his sake renounce the skies;

  Watch him, weep for him; till at length his wife

  He deign to make thee, or perchance his slave.

  I go not (now to go were shame indeed)

  To dress his couch; nor will I be the jest

  Of all my sex in Ilium. Oh! my griefs

  Are infinite, and more than I can bear.

  To whom, the foam-sprung Goddess, thus incensed.

  Ah wretch! provoke not me; lest in my wrath

  Abandoning thee, I not hate thee less

  Than now I fondly love thee, and beget

  Such detestation of thee in all hearts,

  Grecian and Trojan, that thou die abhorr'd.

  The Goddess ceased. Jove's daughter, Helen, fear'd,

  And, in her lucid veil close wrapt around,

  Silent retired, of all those Trojan dames

  Unseen, and Venus led, herself, the way.

  Soon then as Alexander's fair abode

  They reach'd, her maidens quick their tasks resumed,

>   And she to her own chamber lofty-roof'd

  Ascended, loveliest of her sex. A seat

  For Helen, daughter of Jove Ægis-arm'd,

  To Paris opposite, the Queen of smiles

  Herself disposed; but with averted eyes

  She sat before him, and him keen reproach'd.

  Thou hast escaped. — Ah would that thou hadst died

  By that heroic arm, mine husband's erst!

  Thou once didst vaunt thee in address and strength

  Superior. Go then — challenge yet again

  The warlike Menelaüs forth in fight.

  But hold. The hero of the amber locks

  Provoke no more so rashly, lest the point

  Of his victorious spear soon stretch thee dead.

  She ended, to whom Paris thus replied.

  Ah Helen, wound me not with taunt severe!

  Me, Menelaüs, by Minerva's aid,

  Hath vanquish'd now, who may hereafter, him.

  We also have our Gods. But let us love.

  For never since the day when thee I bore

  From pleasant Lacedæmon o'er the waves

  To Cranäe's fair isle, and first enjoy'd

  Thy beauty, loved I as I love thee now,

  Or felt such sweetness of intense desire.

  He spake, and sought his bed, whom follow'd soon

  Jove's daughter, reconciled to his embrace.

  But Menelaüs like a lion ranged

  The multitude, inquiring far and near

  For Paris lost. Yet neither Trojan him

  Nor friend of Troy could show, whom, else, through love

  None had conceal'd, for him as death itself

  All hated, but his going none had seen.

  Amidst them all then spake the King of men.

  Trojans, and Dardans, and allies of Troy!

  The warlike Menelaüs hath prevailed,

  As is most plain. Now therefore bring ye forth

  Helen with all her treasures, also bring

  Such large amercement as is meet, a sum

  To be remember'd in all future times.

  So spake Atrides, and Achaia's host

  With loud applause confirm'd the monarch's claim.

  * * *

  BOOK IV.

  * * *

  ARGUMENT OF THE FOURTH BOOK.

  In a Council of the Gods, a dispute arises between Jupiter and Juno, which is at last compromised, Jove consenting to dispatch Minerva with a charge to incite some Trojan to a violation of the truce. Minerva descends for that purpose, and in the form of Laodocus, a son of Priam, exhorts Pandarus to shoot at Menelaus, and succeeds. Menelaus is wounded, and Agamemnon having consigned him to the care of Machaon, goes forth to perform the duties of commander-in-chief, in the encouragement of his host to battle. The battle begins.

  * * *

 

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