by Homer
Young and immartial, with great words – as to an Amazon dame.
I have the habit of all fights, and know the bloody frame
Of every slaughter: I well know the ready right hand charge,
I know the left, and every sway of my secureful targe;
I triumph in the cruelty of fixed combat fight,
And manage horse to all designs. I think then with good right,
I may be confident as far as this my challenge goes,
Without being taxed with a vaunt borne out with empty shows.
But being a soldier so renown’d, I will not work on thee
With least advantage of that skill I know doth strengthen me
(And so with privity of sleight win that for which I strive),
But at thy best, ev’n open strength, if my endeavours thrive.’
Thus sent he his long javelin forth; it struck his foe’s huge shield
Near to the upper skirt of brass, which was the eighth it held.
Six folds th’ untamed dart struck through, and in the seventh tough hide
The point was check’d. Then Ajax threw: his angry lance did glide
Quite through his bright orbicular targe, his curace, shirt of mail,
And did his manly stomach’s mouth with dangerous taint assail:
But in the bowing of himself, black death too short did strike.
Then both to pluck their javelins forth encount’red, lion-like,
Whose bloody violence is increas’d by that raw food they eat –
Or boars, whose strength wild nourishment doth make so wondrous great.
Again Priamides did wound in midst his shield of brass,
Yet pierc’d not through the upper plate, the head reflected was:
But Ajax, following his lance, smote through his target quite,
And stay’d bold Hector rushing in; the lance held way outright,
And hurt his neck; out gush’d the blood. Yet Hector ceas’d not so,
But in his strong hand took a flint (as he did backwards go),
Black, sharp and big, laid in the field; the sevenfold targe it smit
Full on the boss, and round about the brass did ring with it.
But Ajax a far greater stone lift up, and (wreathing round,
With all his body laid to it) he sent it forth to wound,
And gave unmeasur’d force to it: the round stone broke within
His rundled target: his lov’d knees to languish did begin,
And he lean’d, stretch’d out on his shield; but Phoebus rais’d him straight.
Then had they laid on wounds with swords, in use of closer fight,
Unless the heralds (messengers of gods and godlike men),
The one of Troy, the other Greece, had held betwixt them then
Imperial sceptres: then the one, Idaeus, grave and wise,
Said to them: ‘Now no more, my sons; the sov’reign of the skies
Doth love you both; both soldiers are, all witness with good right,
But now night lays her mace on earth; ’tis good t’ obey the night.’
‘Idaeus,’ Telamon replied, ‘to Hector speak, not me:
He that call’d all our Achive peers to station fight, ’twas he.
If he first cease, I gladly yield.’ Great Hector then began:
‘Ajax, since Jove to thy big form made thee so strong a man,
And gave thee skill to use thy strength, so much that for thy spear
Thou art most excellent of Greece, now let us fight forbear.
Hereafter we shall war again, till Jove our herald be,
And grace with conquest which he will; heav’n yields to night – and we.
Go thou and comfort all thy fleet, all friends and men of thine,
As I in Troy my favourers, who in the fane divine
Have offer’d orisons for me: and come, let us impart
Some ensigns of our strife, to show each other’s suppled heart,
That men of Troy and Greece may say, thus their high quarrel ends;
Those that encount’ring were such foes, are now – being separate – friends.’
He gave a sword, whose handle was with silver studs through driven,
Scabbard and all, with hangers rich. By Telamon was given
A fair well-glossed purple waist. Thus Hector went to Troy,
And after him a multitude, fill’d with his safety’s joy,
Despairing he could ever ’scape the puissant fortitude
And unimpeached Ajax’ hands. The Greeks like joy renew’d
For their reputed victory, and brought him to the king,
Who to the great Saturnides preferr’d an offering:
An ox that fed on five fair springs; they flay’d and quart’red him,
And then (in pieces cut) on spits they roasted every limb;
Which neatly dress’d they drew it off: work done, they fell to feast:
All had enough, but Telamon the king fed past the rest
With good large pieces of the chine. Thus thirst and hunger stay’d,
Nestor, whose counsels late were best, vows new, and first he said:
‘Atrides, and my other lords, a sort of Greeks are dead,
Whose black blood near Scamander’s stream inhuman Mars hath shed:
Their souls to hell descended are. It fits thee then our king
To make our soldiers cease from war, and by the day’s first spring,
Let us ourselves (assembled all) the bodies bear to fire,
With mules and oxen near our fleet, that when we home retire,
Each man may carry to the sons of fathers slaughter’d here
Their honour’d bones: one tomb for all, for ever, let us rear,
Circling the pile without the field; at which we will erect
Walls, and a ravelin, that may safe our fleet and us protect.
And in them let us fashion gates, solid, and barr’d about,
Through which our horse and chariots may well get in and out.
Without all, let us dig a dike, so deep it may avail
Our forces ’gainst the charge of horse and foot, that come t’ assail:
And thus th’ attempts that I see swell in Troy’s proud heart shall fail.’
The kings do his advice approve: so Troy doth court convent
At Priam’s gate, in th’ Ilion tow’r, fearful and turbulent.
Amongst all wise Antenor spake: ‘Trojans and Dardan friends,
And peers assistants, give good ear to what my care commends
To your consents, for all our good: resolve; let us restore
The Argive Helen, with her wealth, to him she had before:
We now defend but broken faiths. If, therefore, ye refuse,
No good event can I expect of all the wars we use.’
He ceas’d, and Alexander spake, husband to th’ Argive queen:
‘Antenor, to mine ears thy words harsh and ungracious been;
Thou canst use better if thou wilt, but if these truly fit
Thy serious thoughts, the gods with age have reft thy graver wit.
To warlike Trojans I will speak: I clearly do deny
To yield my wife, but all her wealth I’ll render willingly,
Whatever I from Argos brought, and vow to make it more
(Which I have ready in my house) if peace I may restore.’
Priam, surnam’d Dardanides, godlike in counsels grave,
In his son’s favour well advis’d, this resolution gave:
‘My royal friends of every state, there is sufficient done,
For this late council we have c
all’d, in th’ offer of my son.
Now then let all take needful food; then let the watch be set,
And every court of guard held strong: so when the morn doth wet
The high rais’d battlements of Troy, Idaeus shall be sent
To th’ Argive fleet, and Atreus’ sons, t’ unfold my son’s intent,
From whose fact our contention springs, and (if they will) obtain
Respite from heat of fight, till fire consume our soldiers slain:
And after, our most fatal war let us importune still,
Till Jove the conquest have dispos’d to his unconquer’d will.’
All heard, and did obey the king, and (in their quarters all
That were to set the watch that night) did to their suppers fall.
Idaeus in the morning went, and th’ Achive peers did find
In counsel at Atrides’ ship: his audience was assign’d,
And in the midst of all the kings the vocal herald said:
‘Atrides, my renowned king, and other kings his aid,
Propose by me, in their commands, the offers Paris makes
(From whose joy all our woes proceed); he princely undertakes
That all the wealth he brought from Greece (would he had died before!)
He will, with other added wealth, for your amends restore:
But famous Menelaus’ wife he still means to enjoy,
Though he be urg’d the contrary by all the peers of Troy.
And this besides I have in charge, that if it please you all,
They wish both sides may cease from war, that rites of funeral
May on their bodies be perform’d that in the fields lie slain,
And after, to the will of Fate, renew the fight again.
All silence held at first; at last, Tydides made reply:
‘Let no man take the wealth, or dame; for now a child’s weak eye
May see the imminent black end of Priam’s empery.’
This sentence, quick and briefly given, the Greeks did all admire.
Then said the king: ‘Herald, thou hear’st in him the voice entire
Of all our peers, to answer thee, for that of Priam’s son.
But, for our burning of the dead, by all means I am won
To satisfy thy king therein, without the slend’rest gain
Made of their spoiled carcasses; but freely (being slain)
They shall be all consum’d with fire: to witness which I cite
High thund’ring Jove, that is the king of Juno’s bed’s delight.’
With this, he held his sceptre up to all the sky-thron’d pow’rs,
And grave Idaeus did return to sacred Ilion’s tow’rs,
Where Ilians and Dardanians did still their counsels ply,
Expecting his return: he came, and told his legacy.
All, whirlwind like, assembled then; some bodies to transport,
Some to hew trees. On th’ other part, the Argives did exhort
Their soldiers to the same affairs. Then did the new-fir’d sun
Smite the broad fields, ascending heaven, and th’ ocean smooth did run,
When Greece and Troy mix’d in such peace, you scarce could either know;
Then wash’d they off their blood and dust, and did warm tears bestow
Upon the slaughter’d, and in cars convey’d them from the field.
Priam commanded none should mourn, but in still silence yield
Their honour’d carcasses to fire, and only grieve in heart.
All burn’d, to Troy Troy’s friends retire; to fleet, the Grecian part.
Yet doubtful night obscur’d the earth, the day did not appear,
When round about the funeral pile the Grecians gather’d were;
The pile they circled with a tomb, and by it rais’d a wall,
High tow’rs to guard the fleet and them, and in the midst of all
They built strong gates, through which the horse and chariots passage had.
Without the rampire a broad dike long and profound they made,
On which they pallisadoes pitch’d; and thus the Grecians wrought.
Their huge works in so little time were to perfection brought,
That all gods by the Lightner set the frame thereof admir’d;
’Mongst whom the earthquake-making god this of their king inquir’d:
‘Father of gods, will any man, of all earth’s grassy sphere,
Ask any of the gods’ consents to any actions there,
If thou wilt see the shag-hair’d Greeks with headstrong labours frame
So huge a work, and not to us due off’rings first enflame?
As far as white Aurora’s dews are sprinkled through the air,
Fame will renown the hands of Greece for this divine affair.
Men will forget the sacred work the Sun and I did raise
For King Laomedon; bright Troy and this will bear the praise.’
Jove was extremely mov’d with him, and said: ‘What words are these,
Thou mighty shaker of the earth, thou lord of all the seas?
Some other god, of far less power, might hold conceits, dismay’d
With this rare Grecian stratagem, and thou rest well apaid;
For it will glorify thy name as far as light extends,
Since, when these Greeks shall see again their native soil and friends
(The bulwark batter’d), thou mayst quite devour it with thy waves,
And cover with thy fruitless sands this fatal shore of graves,
That what their fiery industries have so divinely wrought
In raising it – in razing it, thy pow’r will prove it nought.
Thus spake the gods among themselves: set was the fervent sun,
And now the great work of the Greeks was absolutely done.
Then slew they oxen in their tents, and strength with food reviv’d,
When out of Lemnos a great fleet of odorous wine arriv’d,
Sent by Euneus, Jason’s son, born of Hypsiphile.
The fleet contain’d a thousand tun, which must transported be
To Atreus’ sons, as he gave charge, whose merchandise it was.
The Greeks bought wine for shining steel, and some for sounding brass,
Some for ox-hides, for oxen some, and some for prisoners.
A sumptuous banquet was prepar’d, and all that night the peers
And fair-hair’d Greeks consum’d in feast: so Trojans, and their aid.
And all the night Jove thunder’d loud: pale fear all thoughts dismay’d.
While they were gluttonous in earth, Jove wrought their banes in heav’n:
They pour’d full cups upon the ground, and were to offerings driv’n,
Instead of quaffings: and to drink none durst attempt, before
In solemn sacrifice they did almighty Jove adore.
Then to their rests they all repair’d: bold zeal their fear bereav’d,
And sudden sleep’s refreshing gift securely they receiv’d.
The end of the seventh book
Book 8
The Argument
When Jove to all the gods had giv’n command,
That none to either host should helpful stand,
To Ida he descends; and sees from thence
Juno and Pallas haste the Greeks’ defence:
Whose purpose his command, by Iris given,
Doth intervent. Then came the silent even;
When Hector charg’d fires should consume the night,
Lest Greeks in darkness took suspected flight.
Another Argument
In
Theta gods a council have;
Troy’s conquest; glorious Hector’s brave.
Book 8
The cheerful lady of the light, deck’d in her saffron robe,
Dispers’d her beams through every part of this enflow’red globe,
When thund’ring Jove a court of gods assembled by his will,
In top of all the topful heights that crown th’ Olympian hill.
He spake, and all the gods gave ear: ‘Hear how I stand inclin’d,
That god nor goddess may attempt t’ infringe my sov’reign mind,
But all give suffrage, that with speed I may these discords end.
What god soever I shall find endeavour to defend
Or Troy or Greece, with wounds to heav’n he sham’d shall reascend,
Or (taking him with his offence) I’ll cast him down as deep
As Tartarus (the brood of night), where Barathrum doth steep
Torment in his profoundest sinks, where is the floor of brass,
And gates of iron; the place for depth as far doth hell surpass
As heav’n for height exceeds the earth. Then shall he know from thence
How much my pow’r, past all the gods, hath sov’reign eminence.
Endanger it the whiles and see; let down our golden chain,
And at it let all deities their utmost strengths constrain,
To draw me to the earth from heaven. You never shall prevail,
Though with your most contention ye dare my state assail:
But when my will shall be dispos’d to draw you all to me,
Even with the earth itself, and seas, ye shall enforced be.
Then will I to Olympus’ top our virtuous engine bind,
And by it everything shall hang, by my command inclin’d:
So much I am supreme to gods, to men supreme as much.’
The gods sat silent, and admir’d, his dreadful speech was such.
At last his blue-ey’d daughter spake: ‘O great Saturnides!
O father, O heaven’s highest king, well know we the excess
Of thy great power, compar’d with all: yet the bold Greeks’ estate
We needs must mourn, since they must fall beneath so hard a fate:
For if thy grave command enjoin, we will abstain from fight.
But to afford them such advice as may relieve their plight,
We will, with thy consent, be bold, that all may not sustain
The fearful burthen of thy wrath, and with their shames be slain.’