by Homer
The fleet and people, threatening that himself
Will at the peep of day launch all his barks,
And counselling, beside, the general host
To voyage homeward, for that end as yet
Of Ilium wall'd to heaven, ye shall not find,
Since Jove the Thunderer with uplifted arm
Protects her, and her courage hath revived.
Thus speaks the Chief, and Ajax is prepared,
With the attendant heralds to report
As I have said. But Phœnix in the tent
Sleeps of Achilles, who his stay desired,
That on the morrow, if he so incline,
The hoary warrior may attend him hence
Home to his country, but he leaves him free.
He ended. They astonish'd at his tone
(For vehement he spake) sat silent all.
Long silent sat the afflicted sons of Greece,
When thus the mighty Diomede began.
Atrides, Agamemnon, King of men!
Thy supplications to the valiant son
Of Peleus, and the offer of thy gifts
Innumerous, had been better far withheld.
He is at all times haughty, and thy suit
Hath but increased his haughtiness of heart
Past bounds: but let him stay or let him go
As he shall choose. He will resume the fight
When his own mind shall prompt him, and the Gods
Shall urge him forth. Now follow my advice.
Ye have refresh'd your hearts with food and wine
Which are the strength of man; take now repose.
And when the rosy-finger'd morning fair
Shall shine again, set forth without delay
The battle, horse and foot, before the fleet,
And where the foremost fight, fight also thou.
He ended; all the Kings applauded warm
His counsel, and the dauntless tone admired
Of Diomede. Then, due libation made,
Each sought his tent, and took the gift of sleep.
* * *
There is much in this book which is worthy of close attention. The consummate genius, the varied and versatile power, the eloquence, truth, and nature displayed in it, will always be admired. Perhaps there is no portion of the poem more remarkable for these attributes. — Felton.
* * *
BOOK X.
* * *
ARGUMENT OF THE TENTH BOOK.
Diomede and Ulysses enter the Trojan host by night, and slay Rhesus.
* * *
BOOK X.
All night the leaders of the host of Greece
Lay sunk in soft repose, all, save the Chief,
The son of Atreus; him from thought to thought
Roving solicitous, no sleep relieved.
As when the spouse of beauteous Juno, darts
His frequent fires, designing heavy rain
Immense, or hail-storm, or field-whitening snow,
Or else wide-throated war calamitous,
So frequent were the groans by Atreus' son
Heaved from his inmost heart, trembling with dread.
For cast he but his eye toward the plain
Of Ilium, there, astonish'd he beheld
The city fronted with bright fires, and heard
Pipes, and recorders, and the hum of war;
But when again the Grecian fleet he view'd,
And thought on his own people, then his hair
Uprooted elevating to the Gods,
He from his generous bosom groan'd again.
At length he thus resolved; of all the Greeks
To seek Neleian Nestor first, with whom
He might, perchance, some plan for the defence
Of the afflicted Danaï devise.
Rising, he wrapp'd his tunic to his breast,
And to his royal feet unsullied bound
His sandals; o'er his shoulders, next, he threw
Of amplest size a lion's tawny skin
That swept his footsteps, dappled o'er with blood,
Then took his spear. Meantime, not less appall'd
Was Menelaus, on whose eyelids sleep
Sat not, lest the Achaians for his sake
O'er many waters borne, and now intent
On glorious deeds, should perish all at Troy.
With a pard's spotted hide his shoulders broad
He mantled over; to his head he raised
His brazen helmet, and with vigorous hand
Grasping his spear, forth issued to arouse
His brother, mighty sovereign of the host,
And by the Grecians like a God revered.
He found him at his galley's stern, his arms
Assuming radiant; welcome he arrived
To Agamemnon, whom he thus address'd.
Why arm'st thou, brother? Wouldst thou urge abroad
Some trusty spy into the Trojan camp?
I fear lest none so hardy shall be found
As to adventure, in the dead still night,
So far, alone; valiant indeed were he!
To whom great Agamemnon thus replied.
Heaven-favor'd Menelaus! We have need,
Thou and myself, of some device well-framed,
Which both the Grecians and the fleet of Greece
May rescue, for the mind of Jove hath changed,
And Hector's prayers alone now reach his ear.
I never saw, nor by report have learn'd
From any man, that ever single chief
Such awful wonders in one day perform'd
As he with ease against the Greeks, although
Nor from a Goddess sprung nor from a God.
Deeds he hath done, which, as I think, the Greeks
Shall deep and long lament, such numerous ills
Achaia's host hath at his hands sustain'd.
But haste, begone, and at their several ships
Call Ajax and Idomeneus; I go
To exhort the noble Nestor to arise,
That he may visit, if he so incline,
The chosen band who watch, and his advice
Give them; for him most prompt they will obey,
Whose son, together with Meriones,
Friend of Idomeneus, controls them all,
Entrusted by ourselves with that command.
Him answer'd Menelaus bold in arms.
Explain thy purpose. Wouldst thou that I wait
Thy coming, there, or thy commands to both
Given, that I incontinent return?
To whom the Sovereign of the host replied.
There stay; lest striking into different paths
(For many passes intersect the camp)
We miss each other; summon them aloud
Where thou shalt come; enjoin them to arise;
Call each by his hereditary name,
Honoring all. Beware of manners proud,
For we ourselves must labor, at our birth
By Jove ordain'd to suffering and to toil.
So saying, he his brother thence dismiss'd
Instructed duly, and himself, his steps
Turned to the tent of Nestor. Him he found
Amid his sable galleys in his tent
Reposing soft, his armor at his side,
Shield, spears, bright helmet, and the broider'd belt
Which, when the Senior arm'd led forth his host
To fight, he wore; for he complied not yet
With the encroachments of enfeebling age.
He raised his head, and on his elbow propp'd,
Questioning Agamemnon, thus began.
But who art thou, who thus alone, the camp
Roamest, amid the darkness of the night,
While other mortals sleep? Comest thou abroad
Seeking some friend or soldier of the guard?
Speak — come not nearer mute. What is thy wish?
To whom the son of Atreus, King of men.
O
h Nestor, glory of the Grecian name,
Offspring of Neleus! thou in me shalt know
The son of Atreus, Agamemnon, doom'd
By Jove to toil, while life shall yet inform
These limbs, or I shall draw the vital air.
I wander thus, because that on my lids
Sweet sleep sits not, but war and the concerns
Of the Achaians occupy my soul.
Terrible are the fears which I endure
For these my people; such as supersede
All thought; my bosom can no longer hold
My throbbing heart, and tremors shake my limbs.
But if thy mind, more capable, project
Aught that may profit us (for thee it seems
Sleep also shuns) arise, and let us both
Visit the watch, lest, haply, overtoil'd
They yield to sleep, forgetful of their charge.
The foe is posted near, and may intend
(None knows his purpose) an assault by night.
To him Gerenian Nestor thus replied.
Illustrious Agamemnon, King of men!
Deep-planning Jove the imaginations proud
Of Hector will not ratify, nor all
His sanguine hopes effectuate; in his turn
He also (fierce Achilles once appeased)
Shall trouble feel, and haply, more than we.
But with all readiness I will arise
And follow thee, that we may also rouse
Yet others; Diomede the spear-renown'd,
Ulysses, the swift Ajax, and the son
Of Phyleus, valiant Meges. It were well
Were others also visited and call'd,
The godlike Ajax, and Idomeneus,
Whose ships are at the camp's extremest bounds.
But though I love thy brother and revere,
And though I grieve e'en thee, yet speak I must,
And plainly censure him, that thus he sleeps
And leaves to thee the labor, who himself
Should range the host, soliciting the Chiefs
Of every band, as utmost need requires.
Him answer'd Agamemnon, King of men.
Old warrior, times there are, when I could wish
Myself thy censure of him, for in act
He is not seldom tardy and remiss.
Yet is not sluggish indolence the cause,
No, nor stupidity, but he observes
Me much, expecting till I lead the way.
But he was foremost now, far more alert
This night than I, and I have sent him forth
Already, those to call whom thou hast named.
But let us hence, for at the guard I trust
To find them, since I gave them so in charge.
To whom the brave Gerenian Chief replied.
Him none will censure, or his will dispute,
Whom he shall waken and exhort to rise.
So saying, he bound his corselet to his breast,
His sandals fair to his unsullied feet,
And fastening by its clasps his purple cloak
Around him, double and of shaggy pile,
Seized, next, his sturdy spear headed with brass,
And issued first into the Grecian fleet.
There, Nestor, brave Gerenian, with a voice
Sonorous roused the godlike counsellor
From sleep, Ulysses; the alarm came o'er
His startled ear, forth from his tent he sprang
Sudden, and of their coming, quick, inquired.
Why roam ye thus the camp and fleet alone
In darkness? by what urgent need constrain'd?
To whom the hoary Pylian thus replied.
Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!
Resent it not, for dread is our distress.
Come, therefore, and assist us to convene
Yet others, qualified to judge if war
Be most expedient, or immediate flight.
He ended, and regaining, quick, his tent,
Ulysses slung his shield, then coming forth
Join'd them. The son of Tydeus first they sought.
Him sleeping arm'd before his tent they found,
Encompass'd by his friends also asleep;
His head each rested on his shield, and each
Had planted on its nether point erect
His spear beside him; bright their polish'd heads,
As Jove's own lightning glittered from afar.
Himself, the Hero, slept. A wild bull's hide
Was spread beneath him, and on arras tinged
With splendid purple lay his head reclined.
Nestor, beside him standing, with his heel
Shook him, and, urgent, thus the Chief reproved.
Awake, Tydides! wherefore givest the night
Entire to balmy slumber? Hast not heard
How on the rising ground beside the fleet
The Trojans sit, small interval between?
He ceased; then up sprang Diomede alarm'd
Instant, and in wing'd accents thus replied.
Old wakeful Chief! thy toils are never done.
Are there not younger of the sons of Greece,
Who ranging in all parts the camp, might call
The Kings to council? But no curb controls
Or can abate activity like thine.
To whom Gerenian Nestor in return.
My friend! thou hast well spoken. I have sons,
And they are well deserving; I have here
A numerous people also, one of whom
Might have sufficed to call the Kings of Greece.
But such occasion presses now the host
As hath not oft occurr'd; the overthrow
Complete, or full deliverance of us all,
In balance hangs, poised on a razor's edge.
But haste, and if thy pity of my toils
Be such, since thou art younger, call, thyself,
Ajax the swift, and Meges to the guard.
Then Diomede a lion's tawny skin
Around him wrapp'd, dependent to his heels,
And, spear in hand, set forth. The Hero call'd
Those two, and led them whither Nestor bade.
They, at the guard arrived, not sleeping found
The captains of the guard, but sitting all
In vigilant posture with their arms prepared.
As dogs that, careful, watch the fold by night,
Hearing some wild beast in the woods, which hounds
And hunters with tumultuous clamor drive
Down from the mountain-top, all sleep forego;
So, sat not on their eyelids gentle sleep
That dreadful night, but constant to the plain
At every sound of Trojan feet they turn'd.
The old Chief joyful at the sight, in terms
Of kind encouragement them thus address'd.
So watch, my children! and beware that sleep
Invade none here, lest all become a prey.
So saying, he traversed with quick pace the trench
By every Chief whom they had thither call'd
Attended, with whom Nestor's noble son
Went, and Meriones, invited both
To join their consultation. From the foss
Emerging, in a vacant space they sat,
Unstrew'd with bodies of the slain, the spot,
Whence furious Hector, after slaughter made
Of numerous Greeks, night falling, had return'd.
There seated, mutual converse close they held,
And Nestor, brave Gerenian, thus began.
Oh friends! hath no Achaian here such trust
In his own prowess, as to venture forth
Among yon haughty Trojans? He, perchance,
Might on the borders of their host surprise
Some wandering adversary, or might learn
Their consultations, whether they propose
Here to abide in prospect of the fleet,
Or, satiate with success against the Greeks
So signal, meditate retreat to Troy.
These tidings gain'd, should he at last return
Secure, his recompense will be renown
Extensive as the heavens, and fair reward.
From every leader of the fleet, his gift
Shall be a sable ewe, and sucking lamb,
Rare acquisition! and at every board
And sumptuous banquet, he shall be a guest.
He ceased, and all sat silent, when at length
The mighty son of Tydeus thus replied.
Me, Nestor, my courageous heart incites
To penetrate into the neighbor host
Of enemies; but went some other Chief
With me, far greater would my comfort prove,
And I should dare the more. Two going forth,
One quicker sees than other, and suggests
Prudent advice; but he who single goes,
Mark whatsoe'er he may, the occasion less
Improves, and his expedients soon exhausts.
He ended, and no few willing arose
To go with Diomede. Servants of Mars
Each Ajax willing stood; willing as they
Meriones; most willing Nestor's son;
Willing the brother of the Chief of all,
Nor willing less Ulysses to explore
The host of Troy, for he possess'd a heart
Delighted ever with some bold exploit.
Then Agamemnon, King of men, began.
Now Diomede, in whom my soul delights!
Choose whom thou wilt for thy companion; choose
The fittest here; for numerous wish to go.
Leave not through deference to another's rank,
The more deserving, nor prefer a worse,
Respecting either pedigree or power.
Such speech he interposed, fearing his choice
Of Menelaus; then, renown'd in arms
The son of Tydeus, rising, spake again.
Since, then, ye bid me my own partner choose
Free from constraint, how can I overlook
Divine Ulysses, whose courageous heart
With such peculiar cheerfulness endures
Whatever toils, and whom Minerva loves?
Let him attend me, and through fire itself
We shall return; for none is wise as he.
To him Ulysses, hardy Chief, replied.
Tydides! neither praise me much, nor blame,
For these are Grecians in whose ears thou speak'st,
And know me well. But let us hence! the night
Draws to a close; day comes apace; the stars
Are far advanced; two portions have elapsed
Of darkness, but the third is yet entire.