The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature)

by Homer

  From his high tow’rs; who made no stay, when once he had put on

  His richest armour, but flew forth: the flints he trod upon

  Sparkled with lustre of his arms; his long-ebb’d spirits now flow’d

  The higher for their lower ebb. And as a fair steed proud

  With full-given mangers, long tied up, and now his head-stall broke,

  He breaks from stable, runs the field, and with an ample stroke

  Measures the centre, neighs, and lifts aloft his wanton head,

  About his shoulders shakes his crest, and where he hath been fed,

  Or in some calm flood wash’d, or stung with his high plight, he flies

  Amongst his females, strength puts forth, his beauty beautifies,

  And like life’s mirror, bears his gait: so Paris from the tow’r

  Of lofty Pergamus came forth; he show’d a sun-like pow’r

  In carriage of his goodly parts, address’d now to the strife,

  And found his noble brother near the place he left his wife.

  Him thus respected he salutes: ‘Right worthy, I have fear

  That your so serious haste to field my stay hath made forbear,

  And that I come not as you wish.’ He answer’d: ‘Honour’d man,

  Be confident, for not myself nor any others can

  Reprove in thee the work of fight, at least, not any such

  As is an equal judge of things: for thou hast strength as much

  As serves to execute a mind very important. But

  Thy strength too readily flies off: enough will is not put

  To thy ability. My heart is in my mind’s strife, sad,

  When Troy (out of her much distress she and her friends have had

  By thy procurement) doth deprave thy nobleness in mine ears.

  But come, hereafter we shall calm these hard conceits of theirs,

  When from their ports the foe expuls’d, high Jove to them hath giv’n

  Wish’d peace, and us free sacrifice to all the powers of heav’n.’

  The end of the sixth book

  Book 7

  The Argument

  Hector, by Helenus’ advice, doth seek

  Adventurous combat on the boldest Greek.

  Nine Greeks stand up, acceptants every one,

  But lot selects strong Ajax Telamon.

  Both, with high honour, stand th’ important fight,

  Till heralds part them by approached night.

  Lastly, they grave the dead: the Greeks erect

  A mighty wall, their navy to protect;

  Which angers Neptune. Jove, by hapless signs,

  In depth of night, succeeding woes divines.

  Another Argument

  In Eta, Priam’s strongest son

  Combats with Ajax Telamon.

  Book 7

  This said, brave Hector through the ports, with Troy’s bane-bringing knight,

  Made issue to th’ insatiate field, resolv’d to fervent fight.

  And as the weather-wielder sends to seamen prosperous gales,

  When with their sallow polish’d oars, long lifted from their falls,

  Their wearied arms, dissolv’d with toil, can scarce strike one stroke more,

  Like those sweet winds appear’d these lords to Trojans tir’d before.

  Then fell they to the works of death. By Paris’ valour fell

  King Areithous’ hapless son, that did in Arna dwell,

  Menesthius, whose renowned sire a club did ever bear,

  And of Philomedusa got (that had her eyes so clear)

  This slaughter’d issue. Hector’s dart struck Eioneus dead;

  Beneath his good steel casque it pierc’d above his gorget stead.

  Glaucus (Hyppolochus’s son) that led the Lycian crew,

  Iphinous-Dexiades with sudden javelin slew,

  As he was mounting to his horse: his shoulders took the spear,

  And ere he sate, in tumbling down his pow’rs dissolved were.

  When gray-ey’d Pallas had perceiv’d the Greeks so fall in fight,

  From high Olympus’ top she stoop’d, and did on Ilion light.

  Apollo to encounter her to Pergamus did fly,

  From whence he (looking to the field) wish’d Trojans victory.

  At Jove’s broad beech these godheads met, and first Jove’s son objects:

  ‘Why, burning in contention thus, do thy extreme affects

  Conduct thee from our peaceful hill? Is it to oversway

  The doubtful victory of fight, and give the Greeks the day?

  Thou never pitiest perishing Troy, yet now let me persuade,

  That this day no more mortal wounds may either side invade.

  Hereafter, till the end of Troy, they shall apply the fight,

  Since your immortal wills resolve to overturn it quite.’

  Pallas replied: ‘It likes me well; for this came I from heav’n:

  But to make either army cease, what order shall be giv’n?’

  He said: ‘We will direct the spirit that burns in Hectors breast

  To challenge any Greek to wounds, with single pow’rs impress’d;

  Which Greeks (admiring) will accept, and make some one stand out,

  So stout a challenge to receive with a defence as stout.’

  It is confirm’d, and Helenus (King Priam’s loved seed)

  By augury discern’d th’ event that these two pow’rs decreed,

  And greeting Hector ask’d him this: ‘Wilt thou be once advis’d?

  I am thy brother, and thy life with mine is ev’nly prised.

  Command the rest of Troy and Greece to cease this public fight,

  And what Greek bears the greatest mind, to single strokes excite.

  I promise thee that yet thy soul shall not descend to fates;

  So heard I thy survival cast by the celestial states.’

  Hector with glad allowance gave his brother’s counsel ear,

  And, fronting both the hosts, advanc’d just in the midst his spear.

  The Trojans instantly surcease, the Greeks Atrides stay’d.

  The god that bears the silver bow and war’s triumphant Maid,

  On Jove’s beech like two vultures sat, pleas’d to behold both parts

  Flow in to hear, so sternly arm’d with huge shields, helms and darts,

  And such fresh horror as you see driven through the wrinkled waves

  By rising Zephyr, under whom the sea grows black, and raves;

  Such did the hasty gathering troops of both hosts make, to hear;

  Whose tumult settled, ’twixt them both thus spake the challenger:

  ‘Hear, Trojans, and ye well-arm’d Greeks, what my strong mind (diffus’d

  Through all my spirits) commands me speak; Saturnius hath not us’d

  His promis’d favour for our truce, but studying both our ills,

  Will never cease till Mars by you his ravenous stomach fills

  With ruin’d Troy, or we consume your mighty sea-borne fleet.

  Since then the general peers of Greece in reach of one voice meet,

  Amongst you all, whose breast includes the most impulsive mind,

  Let him stand forth as combatant, by all the rest design’d.

  Before whom thus I call high Jove to witness of our strife:

  If he with home-thrust iron can reach th’ exposure of my life,

  Spoiling my arms, let him at will convey them to his tent,

  But let my body be return’d, that Troy’s two-sex’d descent

  May waste it in the funeral pile: if I can slaughter him

&nbs
p; (Apollo honouring me so much), I’ll spoil his conquer’d limb,

  And bear his arms to Ilion, where in Apollo’s shrine

  I’ll hang them, as my trophies due; his body I’ll resign

  To be disposed by his friends in flamy funerals,

  And honour’d with erected tomb, where Hellespontus falls

  Into Aegaeum, and doth reach ev’n to your naval road,

  That when our beings in the earth shall hide their period,

  Survivors sailing the black sea may thus his name renew:

  “This is his monument, whose blood long since did fates imbrue,

  Whom passing far in fortitude, illustrious Hector slew.”

  This shall posterity report, and my fame never die.’

  This said, dumb silence seiz’d them all; they shamed to deny,

  And fear’d to undertake. At last did Menelaus speak,

  Check’d their remissness, and so sigh’d, as if his heart would break:

  ‘Ah me, but only threat’ning Greeks, not worthy Grecian names!

  This more and more, not to be borne, makes grow our huge defames,

  If Hector’s honourable proof be entertain’d by none.

  But you are earth and water all, which – symboliz’d in one –

  Have fram’d your faint unfiery spirits: ye sit without your hearts,

  Grossly inglorious: but myself will use acceptive darts,

  And arm against him, though you think I am ’gainst too much odds:

  But conquest’s garlands hang aloft amongst th’ immortal gods.’

  He arm’d, and gladly would have fought; but, Menelaus, then

  By Hector’s far more strength thy soul had fled th’ abodes of men,

  Had not the kings of Greece stood up, and thy attempt restrain’d,

  And ev’n the king of men himself that in such compass reign’d,

  Who took him by the bold right hand, and sternly pluck’d him back:

  ‘Mad brother, ’tis no work for thee, thou seek’st thy wilful wrack:

  Contain, though it despite thee much, nor for this strife engage

  Thy person with a man more strong, and whom all fear t’ enrage:

  Yea whom Aeacides himself in men-renowning war

  Makes doubt t’ encounter, whose huge strength surpasseth thine by far.

  Sit thou then by thy regiment; some other Greek will rise

  (Though he be dreadless, and no war will his desires suffice,

  That makes this challenge to our strength) our valours to avow:

  To whom, if he can ’scape with life, he will be glad to bow.’

  This drew his brother from his will; who yielded, knowing it true,

  And his glad soldiers took his arms; when Nestor did pursue

  The same reproof he set on foot, and thus supplied his turn:

  ‘What huge indignity is this! How will our country mourn!

  Old Peleus, that good king, will weep, that worthy counsellor,

  That trumpet of the Myrmidons, who much did ask me for

  All men of name that went to Troy; with joy he did inquire

  Their valour and their towardness, and I made him admire.

  But that ye all fear Hector now, if his grave ears shall hear,

  How will he lift his hands to heaven, and pray that death may bear

  His grieved soul into the deep! O would to heaven’s great king,

  Minerva, and the god of light, that now my youthful spring

  Did flourish in my willing veins as when at Phaea’s tow’rs,

  About the streams of Jardanus, my gather’d Pylean pow’rs

  And dart-employ’d Arcadians fought near raging Celadon;

  Amongst whom first of all stood forth great Ereuthalion,

  Who th’ arms of Areïthous wore – brave Areïthous,

  And, since he still fought with a club, surnam’d Clavigerus;

  All men and fair-girt ladies both for honour call’d him so.

  He fought not with a keep-off spear, or with a far-shot bow,

  But with a massy club of iron he broke through armed bands:

  And yet Lycurgus was his death, but not with force of hands;

  With sleight (encount’ring in a lane, where his club wanted sway)

  He thrust him through his spacious waist, who fell, and upwards lay,

  In death not bowing his face to earth: his arms he did despoil,

  Which iron Mars bestow’d on him; and those in Mars’s toil

  Lycurgus ever after wore. But when he aged grew,

  Enforc’d to keep his peaceful house, their use he did renew

  On mighty Ereuthalion’s limbs, his soldier, loved well;

  And with these arms he challeng’d all that did in arms excel:

  All shook, and stood dismay’d, none durst his adverse champion make.

  Yet this same forward mind of mine of choice would undertake

  To fight with all his confidence; though youngest enemy

  Of all the army we conduct, yet I fought with him, I:

  Minerva made me so renown’d, and that most tall strong peer

  I slew; his big bulk lay on earth, extended here and there,

  As it were covetous to spread the centre everywhere.

  O that my youth were now as fresh, and all my pow’rs as sound;

  Soon should bold Hector be impugn’d: yet you that most are crown’d

  With fortitude of all our host, ev’n you methinks are slow,

  Not free and set on fire with lust t’ encounter such a foe.’

  With this, nine royal princes rose: Atrides for the first;

  Then Diomed; th’ Ajaces then, that did th’ encounter thirst;

  King Idomen and his consorts; Mars-like Meriones

  (Evemon’s son); Euripilus; and Andremonides

  (Whom all the Grecians Thoas call’d, sprung of Andremon’s blood);

  And wise Ulysses; every one propos’d for combat stood.

  Again Gerenius Nestor spake: ‘Let lots be drawn by all;

  His hand shall help the well-arm’d Greeks on whom the lot doth fall,

  And to his wish shall he be help’d, if he escape with life

  The harmful danger-breathing fit of his adventurous strife.’

  Each mark’d his lot, and cast it in to Agamemnon’s casque;

  The soldiers pray’d, held up their hands, and this of Jove did ask

  (With eyes advanc’d to heav’n): ‘O Jove, so lead the herald’s hand

  That Ajax or great Tydeus’ son may our wish’d champion stand;

  Or else the king himself, that rules the rich Mycenian land.’

  This said, old Nestor mix’d the lots: the foremost lot survey’d

  With Ajax Telamon was sign’d, as all the soldiers pray’d;

  One of the heralds drew it forth, who brought and show’d it round,

  Beginning at the right hand first, to all the most renown’d:

  None knowing it, every man denied, but when he forth did pass

  To him which mark’d and cast it in, which famous Ajax was,

  He stretch’d his hand, and into it the herald put the lot,

  Who (viewing it) th’ inscription knew; the duke denied not,

  But joyfully acknowledg’d it, and threw it at his feet,

  And said: ‘O friends, the lot is mine, which to my soul is sweet.

  For now I hope my fame shall rise in noble Hector’s fall.

  But whilst I arm myself, do you on great Saturnius call;

  But silently, or to yourselves, that not a Trojan hear –

  Or openly, if you think good, since none alive
we fear.

  None with a will, if I will not, can my bold powers affright,

  At least for plain fierce swinge of strength, or want of skill in fight:

  For I will well prove that my birth, and breed in Salamine,

  Was not all consecrate to meat, or mere effects of wine.’

  This said, the well-giv’n soldiers pray’d; up went to heav’n their eyne:

  ‘O Jove, that Ida dost protect, most happy, most divine,

  Send victory to Ajax’ side; fame grace his goodly limb:

  Or if thy love bless Hector’s life, and thou hast care of him,

  Bestow on both like power, like fame.’ This said, in bright arms shone

  The good strong Ajax: who, when all his war attire was on,

  March’d like the hugely figur’d Mars, when angry Jupiter,

  With strength on people proud of strength sends him forth to infer

  Wreakful contention, and comes on with presence full of fear:

  So th’ Achive rampire, Telamon, did ’twixt the hosts appear –

  Smil’d, yet of terrible aspect; on earth with ample pace

  He boldly stalk’d, and shook aloft his dart with deadly grace.

  It did the Grecians good to see, but heartquakes shook the joints

  Of all the Trojans. Hector’s self felt thoughts with horrid points

  Tempt his bold bosom: but he now must make no counterflight,

  Nor (with his honour) now refuse, that had provok’d the fight.

  Ajax came near; and like a tow’r his shield his bosom barr’d –

  The right side brass, and seven ox-hides within it quilted hard;

  Old Tychius, the best currier that did in Hyla dwell,

  Did frame it for exceeding proof, and wrought it wondrous well.

  With this stood he to Hector close, and with this brave began:

  ‘Now, Hector, thou shalt clearly know, thus meeting man to man,

  What other leaders arm our host besides great Thetis’ son

  Who with his hardy lion’s heart hath armies overrun.

  But he lies at our crook’d-stern’d fleet, a rival with our king

  In height of spirit; yet to Troy he many knights did bring,

  Coequal with Aeacides, all able to sustain

  All thy bold challenge can import: begin then, words are vain.’

  The helm-grac’d Hector answer’d him: ‘Renowned Telamon,

  Prince of the soldiers come from Greece, assay not me, like one