Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Imperial Agamemnon, who had each

  Bled in the battle, met him on his way.

  For from the war remote they had updrawn

  Their galleys on the shore of the gray Deep,

  The foremost to the plain, and at the sterns

  Of that exterior line had built the wall.

  For, spacious though it were, the shore alone

  That fleet sufficed not, incommoding much

  The people; wherefore they had ranged the ships

  Line above line gradual, and the bay

  Between both promontories, all was fill'd.

  They, therefore, curious to survey the fight,

  Came forth together, leaning on the spear,

  When Nestor met them; heavy were their hearts,

  And at the sight of him still more alarm'd,

  Whom royal Agamemnon thus bespake.

  Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks!

  What moved thee to forsake yon bloody field,

  And urged thee hither? Cause I see of fear,

  Lest furious Hector even now his threat

  Among the Trojans publish'd, verify,

  That he would never enter Ilium more

  Till he had burn'd our fleet, and slain ourselves.

  So threaten'd Hector, and shall now perform.

  Alas! alas! the Achaians brazen-greaved

  All, like Achilles, have deserted me

  Resentful, and decline their fleet's defence.

  To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied.

  Those threats are verified; nor Jove himself

  The Thunderer can disappoint them now;

  For our chief strength in which we trusted most

  That it should guard impregnably secure

  Our navy and ourselves, the wall hath fallen.

  Hence all this conflict by our host sustain'd

  Among the ships; nor could thy keenest sight

  Inform thee where in the Achaian camp

  Confusion most prevails, such deaths are dealt

  Promiscuous, and the cry ascends to heaven.

  But come — consult we on the sum of all,

  If counsel yet may profit. As for you,

  Ye shall have exhortation none from me

  To seek the fight; the wounded have excuse.

  Whom Agamemnon answer'd, King of men.

  Ah Nestor! if beneath our very sterns

  The battle rage, if neither trench nor wall

  Constructed with such labor, and supposed

  Of strength to guard impregnably secure

  Our navy and ourselves, avail us aught,

  It is because almighty Jove hath will'd

  That the Achaian host should perish here

  Inglorious, from their country far remote.

  When he vouchsafed assistance to the Greeks,

  I knew it well; and now, not less I know

  That high as the immortal Gods he lifts

  Our foes to glory, and depresses us.

  Haste therefore all, and act as I advise.

  Our ships — all those that nearest skirt the Deep,

  Launch we into the sacred flood, and moor

  With anchors safely, till o'ershadowing night

  (If night itself may save us) shall arrive.

  Then may we launch the rest; for I no shame

  Account it, even by 'vantage of the night

  To fly destruction. Wiser him I deem

  Who 'scapes his foe, than whom his foe enthralls.

  But him Ulysses, frowning stern, reproved.

  What word, Atrides, now hath pass'd thy lips?

  Counsellor of despair! thou should'st command

  (And would to heaven thou didst) a different host,

  Some dastard race, not ours; whom Jove ordains

  From youth to hoary age to weave the web

  Of toilsome warfare, till we perish all.

  Wilt thou the spacious city thus renounce

  For which such numerous woes we have endured?

  Hush! lest some other hear; it is a word

  Which no man qualified by years mature

  To speak discreetly, no man bearing rule

  O'er such a people as confess thy sway,

  Should suffer to contaminate his lips.

  I from my soul condemn thee, and condemn

  Thy counsel, who persuad'st us in the heat

  Of battle terrible as this, to launch

  Our fleet into the waves, that we may give

  Our too successful foes their full desire,

  And that our own prepondering scale

  May plunge us past all hope; for while they draw

  Their galleys down, the Grecians shall but ill

  Sustain the fight, seaward will cast their eyes

  And shun the battle, bent on flight alone.

  Then, shall they rue thy counsel, King of men!

  To whom the imperial leader of the Greeks.

  Thy sharp reproof, Ulysses, hath my soul

  Pierced deeply. Yet I gave no such command

  That the Achaians should their galleys launch,

  Would they, or would they not. No. I desire

  That young or old, some other may advice

  More prudent give, and he shall please me well.

  Then thus the gallant Diomede replied.

  That man is near, and may ye but be found

  Tractable, our inquiry shall be short.

  Be patient each, nor chide me nor reproach

  Because I am of greener years than ye,

  For I am sprung from an illustrious Sire,

  From Tydeus, who beneath his hill of earth

  Lies now entomb'd at Thebes. Three noble sons

  Were born to Portheus, who in Pleuro dwelt,

  And on the heights of Calydon; the first

  Agrius; the second Melas; and the third

  Brave Oeneus, father of my father, famed

  For virtuous qualities above the rest.

  Oeneus still dwelt at home; but wandering thence

  My father dwelt in Argos; so the will

  Of Jove appointed, and of all the Gods.

  There he espoused the daughter of the King

  Adrastus, occupied a mansion rich

  In all abundance; many a field possess'd

  Of wheat, well-planted gardens, numerous flocks,

  And was expert in spearmanship esteem'd

  Past all the Grecians. I esteem'd it right

  That ye should hear these things, for they are true.

  Ye will not, therefore, as I were obscure

  And of ignoble origin, reject

  What I shall well advise. Expedience bids

  That, wounded as we are, we join the host.

  We will preserve due distance from the range

  Of spears and arrows, lest already gall'd,

  We suffer worse; but we will others urge

  To combat, who have stood too long aloof,

  Attentive only to their own repose.

  He spake, whom all approved, and forth they went,

  Imperial Agamemnon at their head.

  Nor watch'd the glorious Shaker of the shores

  In vain, but like a man time-worn approach'd,

  And, seizing Agamemnon's better hand,

  In accents wing'd the monarch thus address'd.

  Atrides! now exults the vengeful heart

  Of fierce Achilles, viewing at his ease

  The flight and slaughter of Achaia's host;

  For he is mad, and let him perish such,

  And may his portion from the Gods be shame!

  But as for thee, not yet the powers of heaven

  Thee hate implacable; the Chiefs of Troy

  Shall cover yet with cloudy dust the breadth

  Of all the plain, and backward from the camp

  To Ilium's gates thyself shalt see them driven.

  He ceased, and shouting traversed swift the field.

  Loud as nine thousand or ten thousand shout

&
nbsp; In furious battle mingled, Neptune sent

  His voice abroad, force irresistible

  Infusing into every Grecian heart,

  And thirst of battle not to be assuaged.

  But Juno of the golden throne stood forth

  On the Olympian summit, viewing thence

  The field, where clear distinguishing the God

  Of ocean, her own brother, sole engaged

  Amid the glorious battle, glad was she.

  Seeing Jove also on the topmost point

  Of spring-fed Ida seated, she conceived

  Hatred against him, and thenceforth began

  Deliberate how best she might deceive

  The Thunderer, and thus at last resolved;

  Attired with skill celestial to descend

  On Ida, with a hope to allure him first

  Won by her beauty to a fond embrace,

  Then closing fast in balmy sleep profound

  His eyes, to elude his vigilance, secure.

  She sought her chamber; Vulcan her own son

  That chamber built. He framed the solid doors,

  And to the posts fast closed them with a key

  Mysterious, which, herself except, in heaven

  None understood. Entering she secured

  The splendid portal. First, she laved all o'er

  Her beauteous body with ambrosial lymph,

  Then polish'd it with richest oil divine

  Of boundless fragrance; oil that in the courts

  Eternal only shaken, through the skies

  Breathed odors, and through all the distant earth.

  Her whole fair body with those sweets bedew'd,

  She passed the comb through her ambrosial hair,

  And braided her bright locks streaming profuse

  From her immortal brows; with golden studs

  She made her gorgeous mantle fast before,

  Ethereal texture, labor of the hands

  Of Pallas beautified with various art,

  And braced it with a zone fringed all around

  A hundred fold; her pendants triple-gemm'd

  Luminous, graceful, in her ears she hung,

  And covering all her glories with a veil

  Sun-bright, new-woven, bound to her fair feet

  Her sandals elegant. Thus full attired,

  In all her ornaments, she issued forth,

  And beckoning Venus from the other powers

  Of heaven apart, the Goddess thus bespake.

  Daughter beloved! shall I obtain my suit,

  Or wilt thou thwart me, angry that I aid

  The Grecians, while thine aid is given to Troy?

  To whom Jove's daughter Venus thus replied.

  What would majestic Juno, daughter dread

  Of Saturn, sire of Jove? I feel a mind

  Disposed to gratify thee, if thou ask

  Things possible, and possible to me.

  Then thus with wiles veiling her deep design

  Imperial Juno. Give me those desires,

  That love-enkindling power by which thou sway'st

  Immortal hearts and mortal, all alike;

  For to the green earth's utmost bounds I go,

  To visit there the parent of the Gods,

  Oceanus, and Tethys his espoused,

  Mother of all. They kindly from the hands

  Of Rhea took, and with parental care

  Sustain'd and cherish'd me, what time from heaven

  The Thunderer hurled down Saturn, and beneath

  The earth fast bound him and the barren Deep.

  Them go I now to visit, and their feuds

  Innumerable to compose; for long

  They have from conjugal embrace abstain'd

  Through mutual wrath, whom by persuasive speech

  Might I restore into each other's arms,

  They would for ever love me and revere.

  Her, foam-born Venus then, Goddess of smiles,

  Thus answer'd. Thy request, who in the arms

  Of Jove reposest the omnipotent,

  Nor just it were nor seemly to refuse.

  So saying, the cincture from her breast she loosed

  Embroider'd, various, her all-charming zone.

  It was an ambush of sweet snares, replete

  With love, desire, soft intercourse of hearts,

  And music of resistless whisper'd sounds

  That from the wisest steal their best resolves;

  She placed it in her hands and thus she said.

  Take this — this girdle fraught with every charm.

  Hide this within thy bosom, and return,

  Whate'er thy purpose, mistress of it all.

  She spake; imperial Juno smiled, and still

  Smiling complacent, bosom'd safe the zone.

  Then Venus to her father's court return'd,

  And Juno, starting from the Olympian height,

  O'erflew Pieria and the lovely plains

  Of broad Emathia; soaring thence she swept

  The snow-clad summits of the Thracian hills

  Steed-famed, nor printed, as she passed, the soil.

  From Athos o'er the foaming billows borne

  She came to Lemnos, city and abode

  Of noble Thoas, and there meeting Sleep,

  Brother of Death, she press'd his hand, and said,

  Sleep, over all, both Gods and men, supreme!

  If ever thou hast heard, hear also now

  My suit; I will be grateful evermore.

  Seal for me fast the radiant eyes of Jove

  In the instant of his gratified desire.

  Thy recompense shall be a throne of gold,

  Bright, incorruptible; my limping son,

  Vulcan, shall fashion it himself with art

  Laborious, and, beneath, shall place a stool

  For thy fair feet, at the convivial board.

  Then answer thus the tranquil Sleep returned

  Great Saturn's daughter, awe-inspiring Queen!

  All other of the everlasting Gods

  I could with ease make slumber, even the streams

  Of Ocean, Sire of all. Not so the King

  The son of Saturn: him, unless himself

  Give me command, I dare not lull to rest,

  Or even approach him, taught as I have been

  Already in the school of thy commands

  That wisdom. I forget not yet the day

  When, Troy laid waste, that valiant son of his

  Sail'd homeward: then my influence I diffused

  Soft o'er the sovereign intellect of Jove;

  While thou, against the Hero plotting harm,

  Didst rouse the billows with tempestuous blasts,

  And separating him from all his friend,

  Brought'st him to populous Cos. Then Jove awoke,

  And, hurling in his wrath the Gods about,

  Sought chiefly me, whom far below all ken

  He had from heaven cast down into the Deep,

  But Night, resistless vanquisher of all,

  Both Gods and men, preserved me; for to her

  I fled for refuge. So the Thunderer cool'd,

  Though sore displeased, and spared me through a fear

  To violate the peaceful sway of Night.

  And thou wouldst now embroil me yet again!

  To whom majestic Juno thus replied.

  Ah, wherefore, Sleep! shouldst thou indulge a fear

  So groundless? Chase it from thy mind afar.

  Think'st thou the Thunderer as intent to serve

  The Trojans, and as jealous in their cause

  As erst for Hercules, his genuine son?

  Come then, and I will bless thee with a bride;

  One of the younger Graces shall be thine,

  Pasithea, day by day still thy desire.

  She spake; Sleep heard delighted, and replied.

  By the inviolable Stygian flood

  Swear to me; lay thy right hand on the glebe

  All-teeming, lay thy o
ther on the face

  Of the flat sea, that all the Immortal Powers

  Who compass Saturn in the nether realms

  May witness, that thou givest me for a bride

  The younger Grace whom thou hast named, divine

  Pasithea, day by day still my desire.

  He said, nor beauteous Juno not complied,

  But sware, by name invoking all the powers

  Titanian call'd who in the lowest gulf

  Dwell under Tartarus, omitting none.

  Her oath with solemn ceremonial sworn,

  Together forth they went; Lemnos they left

  And Imbrus, city of Thrace, and in dark clouds

  Mantled, with gliding ease swam through the air

  To Ida's mount with rilling waters vein'd,

  Parent of savage beasts; at Lectos first

  They quitted Ocean, overpassing high

  The dry land, while beneath their feet the woods

  Their spiry summits waved. There, unperceived

  By Jove, Sleep mounted Ida's loftiest pine

  Of growth that pierced the sky, and hidden sat

  Secure by its expanded boughs, the bird

  Shrill-voiced resembling in the mountains seen,

  Chalcis in heaven, on earth Cymindis named.

  But Juno swift to Gargarus the top

  Of Ida, soar'd, and there Jove saw his spouse.

  — Saw her — and in his breast the same love felt

  Rekindled vehement, which had of old

  Join'd them, when, by their parents unperceived,

  They stole aside, and snatch'd their first embrace.

  Soon he accosted her, and thus inquired.

  Juno! what region seeking hast thou left

  The Olympian summit, and hast here arrived

  With neither steed nor chariot in thy train?

  To whom majestic Juno thus replied

  Dissembling. To the green earth's end I go,

  To visit there the parent of the Gods

  Oceanus, and Tethys his espoused,

  Mother of all. They kindly from the hands

  Of Rhea took, and with parental care

  Sustain'd and cherish'd me; to them I haste

  Their feuds innumerable to compose,

  Who disunited by intestine strife

  Long time, from conjugal embrace abstain.

  My steeds, that lightly over dank and dry

  Shall bear me, at the rooted base I left

  Of Ida river-vein'd. But for thy sake

  From the Olympian summit I arrive,

  Lest journeying remote to the abode

  Of Ocean, and with no consent of thine

  Entreated first, I should, perchance, offend.

  To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.

  Juno! thy journey thither may be made

  Hereafter. Let us turn to dalliance now.

  For never Goddess pour'd, nor woman yet

  So full a tide of love into my breast;

  I never loved Ixion's consort thus