Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  In Hellas and in Phthia may be found

  Fair damsels many, daughters of the Chiefs

  Who guard our cities; I may choose of them,

  And make the loveliest of them all my own.

  There, in my country, it hath ever been

  My dearest purpose, wedded to a wife

  Of rank convenient, to enjoy in peace

  Such wealth as ancient Peleus hath acquired.

  For life, in my account, surpasses far

  In value all the treasures which report

  Ascribed to populous Ilium, ere the Greeks

  Arrived, and while the city yet had peace;

  Those also which Apollo's marble shrine

  In rocky Pytho boasts. Fat flocks and beeves

  May be by force obtain'd, tripods and steeds

  Are bought or won, but if the breath of man

  Once overpass its bounds, no force arrests

  Or may constrain the unbodied spirit back.

  Me, as my silver-footed mother speaks

  Thetis, a twofold consummation waits.

  If still with battle I encompass Troy,

  I win immortal glory, but all hope

  Renounce of my return. If I return

  To my beloved country, I renounce

  The illustrious meed of glory, but obtain

  Secure and long immunity from death.

  And truly I would recommend to all

  To voyage homeward, for the fall as yet

  Ye shall not see of Ilium's lofty towers,

  For that the Thunderer with uplifted arm

  Protects her, and her courage hath revived.

  Bear ye mine answer back, as is the part

  Of good ambassadors, that they may frame

  Some likelier plan, by which both fleet and host

  May be preserved; for, my resentment still

  Burning, this project is but premature.

  Let Phœnix stay with us, and sleep this night

  Within my tent, that, if he so incline,

  He may to-morrow in my fleet embark,

  And hence attend me; but I leave him free.

  He ended; they astonish'd at his tone

  (For vehement he spake) sat silent all,

  Till Phœnix, aged warrior, at the last

  Gush'd into tears (for dread his heart o'erwhelm'd

  Lest the whole fleet should perish) and replied.

  If thou indeed have purposed to return,

  Noble Achilles! and such wrath retain'st

  That thou art altogether fixt to leave

  The fleet a prey to desolating fires,

  How then, my son! shall I at Troy abide

  Forlorn of thee? When Peleus, hoary Chief,

  Sent thee to Agamemnon, yet a child,

  Unpractised in destructive fight, nor less

  Of councils ignorant, the schools in which

  Great minds are form'd, he bade me to the war

  Attend thee forth, that I might teach thee all,

  Both elocution and address in arms.

  Me therefore shalt thou not with my consent

  Leave here, my son! no, not would Jove himself

  Promise me, reaping smooth this silver beard,

  To make me downy-cheek'd as in my youth;

  Such as when erst from Hellas beauty-famed

  I fled, escaping from my father's wrath

  Amyntor, son of Ormenus, who loved

  A beauteous concubine, and for her sake

  Despised his wife and persecuted me.

  My mother suppliant at my knees, with prayer

  Perpetual importuned me to embrace

  The damsel first, that she might loathe my sire.

  I did so; and my father soon possess'd

  With hot suspicion of the fact, let loose

  A storm of imprecation, in his rage

  Invoking all the Furies to forbid

  That ever son of mine should press his knees.

  Tartarian Jove and dread Persephone

  Fulfill'd his curses; with my pointed spear

  I would have pierced his heart, but that my wrath

  Some Deity assuaged, suggesting oft

  What shame and obloquy I should incur,

  Known as a parricide through all the land.

  At length, so treated, I resolved to dwell

  No longer in his house. My friends, indeed,

  And all my kindred compass'd me around

  With much entreaty, wooing me to stay;

  Oxen and sheep they slaughter'd, many a plump

  Well-fatted brawn extended in the flames,

  And drank the old man's vessels to the lees.

  Nine nights continual at my side they slept,

  While others watch'd by turns, nor were the fires

  Extinguish'd ever, one, beneath the porch

  Of the barr'd hall, and one that from within

  The vestibule illumed my chamber door.

  But when the tenth dark night at length arrived,

  Sudden the chamber doors bursting I flew

  That moment forth, and unperceived alike

  By guards and menial woman, leap'd the wall.

  Through spacious Hellas flying thence afar,

  I came at length to Phthia the deep-soil'd,

  Mother of flocks, and to the royal house

  Of Peleus; Peleus with a willing heart

  Receiving, loved me as a father loves

  His only son, the son of his old age,

  Inheritor of all his large demesnes.

  He made me rich; placed under my control

  A populous realm, and on the skirts I dwelt

  Of Phthia, ruling the Dolopian race.

  Thee from my soul, thou semblance of the Gods,

  I loved, and all illustrious as thou art,

  Achilles! such I made thee. For with me,

  Me only, would'st thou forth to feast abroad,

  Nor would'st thou taste thy food at home, 'till first

  I placed thee on my knees, with my own hand

  Thy viands carved and fed thee, and the wine

  Held to thy lips; and many a time, in fits

  Of infant frowardness, the purple juice

  Rejecting thou hast deluged all my vest,

  And fill'd my bosom. Oh, I have endured

  Much, and have also much perform'd for thee,

  Thus purposing, that since the Gods vouchsaf'd

  No son to me, thyself shouldst be my son,

  Godlike Achilles! who shouldst screen perchance

  From a foul fate my else unshelter'd age.

  Achilles! bid thy mighty spirit down.

  Thou shouldst not be thus merciless; the Gods,

  Although more honorable, and in power

  And virtue thy superiors, are themselves

  Yet placable; and if a mortal man

  Offend them by transgression of their laws,

  Libation, incense, sacrifice, and prayer,

  In meekness offer'd turn their wrath away.

  Prayers are Jove's daughters, wrinkled, lame, slant-eyed,

  Which though far distant, yet with constant pace

  Follow Offence. Offence, robust of limb,

  And treading firm the ground, outstrips them all,

  And over all the earth before them runs

  Hurtful to man. They, following, heal the hurt.

  Received respectfully when they approach,

  They help us, and our prayers hear in return.

  But if we slight, and with obdurate heart

  Resist them, to Saturnian Jove they cry

  Against us, supplicating that Offence

  May cleave to us for vengeance of the wrong.

  Thou, therefore, O Achilles! honor yield

  To Jove's own daughters, vanquished, as the brave

  Have ofttimes been, by honor paid to thee.

  For came not Agamemnon as he comes

  With gifts in hand, and promises of more

  Hereafter; bur
n'd his anger still the same,

  I would not move thee to renounce thy own,

  And to assist us, howsoe'er distress'd.

  But now, not only are his present gifts

  Most liberal, and his promises of more

  Such also, but these Princes he hath sent

  Charged with entreaties, thine especial friends,

  And chosen for that cause, from all the host.

  Slight not their embassy, nor put to shame

  Their intercession. We confess that once

  Thy wrath was unreprovable and just.

  Thus we have heard the heroes of old times

  Applauded oft, whose anger, though intense,

  Yet left them open to the gentle sway

  Of reason and conciliatory gifts.

  I recollect an ancient history,

  Which, since all here are friends, I will relate.

  The brave Ætolians and Curetes met

  Beneath the walls of Calydon, and fought

  With mutual slaughter; the Ætolian powers

  In the defence of Calydon the fair,

  And the Curetes bent to lay it waste:

  That strife Diana of the golden throne

  Kindled between them, with resentment fired

  That Oeneus had not in some fertile spot

  The first fruits of his harvest set apart

  To her; with hecatombs he entertained

  All the Divinities of heaven beside,

  And her alone, daughter of Jove supreme,

  Or through forgetfulness, or some neglect,

  Served not; omission careless and profane!

  She, progeny of Jove, Goddess shaft-arm'd,

  A savage boar bright-tusk'd in anger sent,

  Which haunting Oeneus' fields much havoc made.

  Trees numerous on the earth in heaps he cast

  Uprooting them, with all their blossoms on.

  But Meleager, Oeneus' son, at length

  Slew him, the hunters gathering and the hounds

  Of numerous cities; for a boar so vast

  Might not be vanquish'd by the power of few,

  And many to their funeral piles he sent.

  Then raised Diana clamorous dispute,

  And contest hot between them, all alike,

  Curetes and Ætolians fierce in arms

  The boar's head claiming, and his bristly hide.

  So long as warlike Meleager fought,

  Ætolia prosper'd, nor with all their powers

  Could the Curetes stand before the walls.

  But when resentment once had fired the heart

  Of Meleager, which hath tumult oft

  Excited in the breasts of wisest men,

  (For his own mother had his wrath provoked

  Althæa) thenceforth with his wedded wife

  He dwelt, fair Cleopatra, close retired.

  She was Marpessa's daughter, whom she bore

  To Idas, bravest warrior in his day

  Of all on earth. He fear'd not 'gainst the King

  Himself Apollo, for the lovely nymph

  Marpessa's sake, his spouse, to bend his bow.

  Her, therefore, Idas and Marpessa named

  Thenceforth Alcyone, because the fate

  Of sad Alcyone Marpessa shared,

  And wept like her, by Phœbus forced away.

  Thus Meleager, tortured with the pangs

  Of wrath indulged, with Cleopatra dwelt,

  Vex'd that his mother cursed him; for, with grief

  Frantic, his mother importuned the Gods

  To avenge her slaughter'd brothers on his head.

  Oft would she smite the earth, while on her knees

  Seated, she fill'd her bosom with her tears,

  And call'd on Pluto and dread Proserpine

  To slay her son; nor vain was that request,

  But by implacable Erynnis heard

  Roaming the shades of Erebus. Ere long

  The tumult and the deafening din of war

  Roar'd at the gates, and all the batter'd towers

  Resounded. Then the elders of the town

  Dispatch'd the high-priests of the Gods to plead

  With Meleager for his instant aid,

  With strong assurances of rich reward.

  Where Calydon afforded fattest soil

  They bade him choose to his own use a farm

  Of fifty measured acres, vineyard half,

  And half of land commodious for the plow.

  Him Oeneus also, warrior grey with age,

  Ascending to his chamber, and his doors

  Smiting importunate, with earnest prayers

  Assay'd to soften, kneeling to his son.

  Nor less his sisters woo'd him to relent,

  Nor less his mother; but in vain; he grew

  Still more obdurate. His companions last,

  The most esteem'd and dearest of his friends,

  The same suit urged, yet he persisted still

  Relentless, nor could even they prevail.

  But when the battle shook his chamber-doors

  And the Curetes climbing the high towers

  Had fired the spacious city, then with tears

  The beauteous Cleopatra, and with prayers

  Assail'd him; in his view she set the woes

  Numberless of a city storm'd — the men

  Slaughter'd, the city burnt to dust, the chaste

  Matrons with all their children dragg'd away.

  That dread recital roused him, and at length

  Issuing, he put his radiant armor on.

  Thus Meleager, gratifying first

  His own resentment from a fatal day

  Saved the Ætolians, who the promised gift

  Refused him, and his toils found no reward.

  But thou, my son, be wiser; follow thou

  No demon who would tempt thee to a course

  Like his; occasion more propitious far

  Smiles on thee now, than if the fleet were fired.

  Come, while by gifts invited, and receive

  From all the host, the honors of a God;

  For shouldst thou, by no gifts induced, at last

  Enter the bloody field, although thou chase

  The Trojans hence, yet less shall be thy praise.

  Then thus Achilles, matchless in the race.

  Phœnix, my guide, wise, noble and revered!

  I covet no such glory! the renown

  Ordain'd by Jove for me, is to resist

  All importunity to quit my ships

  While I have power to move, or breath to draw.

  Hear now, and mark me well. Cease thou from tears.

  Confound me not, pleading with sighs and sobs

  In Agamemnon's cause; O love not him,

  Lest I renounce thee, who am now thy friend.

  Assist me rather, as thy duty bids,

  Him to afflict, who hath afflicted me,

  So shalt thou share my glory and my power.

  These shall report as they have heard, but here

  Rest thou this night, and with the rising morn

  We will decide, to stay or to depart.

  He ceased, and silent, by a nod enjoin'd

  Patroclus to prepare an easy couch

  For Phœnix, anxious to dismiss the rest

  Incontinent; when Ajax, godlike son

  Of Telamon, arising, thus began.

  Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd:

  Depart we now; for I perceive that end

  Or fruit of all our reasonings shall be none.

  It is expedient also that we bear

  Our answer back (unwelcome as it is)

  With all dispatch, for the assembled Greeks

  Expect us. Brave Achilles shuts a fire

  Within his breast; the kindness of his friends,

  And the respect peculiar by ourselves

  Shown to him, on his heart work no effect.

  Inexorable man! others accept

  Even for a broth
er slain, or for a son

  Due compensation; the delinquent dwells

  Secure at home, and the receiver, soothed

  And pacified, represses his revenge.

  But thou, resentful of the loss of one,

  One virgin (such obduracy of heart

  The Gods have given thee) can'st not be appeased

  Yet we assign thee seven in her stead,

  The most distinguish'd of their sex, and add

  Large gifts beside. Ah then, at last relent!

  Respect thy roof; we are thy guests; we come

  Chosen from the multitude of all the Greeks,

  Beyond them all ambitious of thy love.

  To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.

  My noble friend, offspring of Telamon!

  Thou seem'st sincere, and I believe thee such.

  But at the very mention of the name

  Of Atreus' son, who shamed me in the sight

  Of all Achaia's host, bearing me down

  As I had been some vagrant at his door,

  My bosom boils. Return ye and report

  Your answer. I no thought will entertain

  Of crimson war, till the illustrious son

  Of warlike Priam, Hector, blood-embrued,

  Shall in their tents the Myrmidons assail

  Themselves, and fire my fleet. At my own ship,

  And at my own pavilion it may chance

  That even Hector's violence shall pause.

  He ended; they from massy goblets each

  Libation pour'd, and to the fleet their course

  Resumed direct, Ulysses at their head.

  Patroclus then his fellow-warriors bade,

  And the attendant women spread a couch

  For Phœnix; they the couch, obedient, spread

  With fleeces, with rich arras, and with flax

  Of subtlest woof. There hoary Phœnix lay

  In expectation of the sacred dawn.

  Meantime Achilles in the interior tent,

  With beauteous Diomeda by himself

  From Lesbos brought, daughter of Phorbas, lay.

  Patroclus opposite reposed, with whom

  Slept charming Iphis; her, when he had won

  The lofty towers of Scyros, the divine

  Achilles took, and on his friend bestow'd.

  But when those Chiefs at Agamemnon's tent

  Arrived, the Greeks on every side arose

  With golden cups welcoming their return.

  All question'd them, but Agamemnon first.

  Oh worthy of Achaia's highest praise,

  And her chief ornament, Ulysses, speak!

  Will he defend the fleet? or his big heart

  Indulging wrathful, doth he still refuse?

  To whom renown'd Ulysses thus replied.

  Atrides, Agamemnon, King of men!

  He his resentment quenches not, nor will,

  But burns with wrath the more, thee and thy gifts

  Rejecting both. He bids thee with the Greeks

  Consult by what expedient thou may'st save