The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature)

by Homer

  Nor shut those organs care breaks ope, for our calamities.

  My fear is vehement for the Greeks: my heart (the fount of heat)

  With his extreme affects made cold, without my breast doth beat:

  And therefore are my sinews struck with trembling: every part

  Of what my friends may feel hath act in my dispersed heart.

  But if thou think’st of any course may to our good redound,

  (Since neither thou thyself canst sleep) come, walk with me the round.

  In way whereof we may confer, and look to every guard,

  Lest watching long, and weariness, with labouring so hard,

  Drown their oppressed memories of what they have in charge.

  The liberty we give the foe, alas, is over large,

  Their camp is almost mix’d with ours, and we have forth no spies

  To learn their drifts, who may perchance this night intend surprise.’

  Grave Nestor answer’d: ‘Worthy king, let good hearts bear our ill.

  Jove is not bound to perfect all this busy Hector’s will;

  But I am confidently giv’n, his thoughts are much dismay’d

  With fear, lest our distress incite Achilles to our aid,

  And therefore will not tempt his fate, nor ours with further pride.

  But I will gladly follow thee, and stir up more beside:

  Tydides, famous for his lance, Ulysses, Telamon,

  And bold Phyleus’ valiant heir: or else if any one

  Would haste to call king Idomen, and Ajax, since their sail

  Lie so remov’d, with much good speed, it might our haste avail.

  But, though he be our honour’d friend, thy brother I will blame,

  Not fearing if I anger thee: it is his utter shame

  He should commit all pains to thee, that should himself employ,

  Past all our princes, in the care and cure of our annoy;

  And be so far from needing spurs, to these his due respects,

  He should apply our spirits himself, with pray’rs and urg’d affects.

  Necessity (a law to laws, and not to be endur’d)

  Makes proof of all his faculties; not sound, if not enur’d.’

  ‘Good father,’ said the king, ‘sometimes you know I have desir’d

  You would improve his negligence, too oft to ease retir’d:

  Nor is it for defect of spirit, or compass of his brain,

  But with observing my estate, he thinks he should abstain

  Till I commanded, knowing my place, unwilling to assume,

  For being my brother, anything might prove he did presume.

  But now he rose before me far, and came t’ avoid delays:

  And I have sent him for the men yourself desir’d to raise.

  Come, we shall find them at the guards we plac’d before the fort,

  For thither my direction was they should with speed resort.’

  ‘Why now,’ said Nestor, ‘none will grudge, nor his just rule withstand;

  Examples make excitements strong, and sweeten a command.’

  Thus put he on his arming truss, fair shoes upon his feet,

  About him a mandilion, that did with buttons meet,

  Of purple, large, and full of folds, curl’d with a warmful nap,

  A garment that ’gainst cold in nights did soldiers use to wrap:

  Then took he his strong lance in hand, made sharp with proved steel,

  And went along the Grecian fleet. First at Ulysses’ keel

  He call’d, to break the silken fumes that did his senses bind;

  The voice through th’ organs of his ears straight rung about his mind.

  Forth came Ulysses, asking him: ‘Why stir ye thus so late?

  Sustain we such enforcive cause?’ He answer’d, ‘Our estate

  Doth force this perturbation; vouchsafe it, worthy friend,

  And come, let us excite one more to counsel of some end

  To our extremes, by fight or flight.’ He back, and took his shield,

  And both took course to Diomed; they found him laid in field,

  Far from his tent: his armour by, about him was dispread

  A ring of soldiers, every man his shield beneath his head,

  His spear fix’d by him as he slept, the great end in the ground;

  The point, that bristled the dark earth, cast a reflection round

  Like pallid lightnings thrown from Jove; thus this heroë lay,

  And under him a big ox-hide: his royal head had stay

  On arras hangings, rolled up: whereon he slept so fast,

  That Nestor stirr’d him with his foot, and chid to see him cast

  In such deep sleep, in such deep woes, and ask’d him why he spent

  All night in sleep, or did not hear the Trojans near his tent,

  Their camp drawn close upon their dike, small space ’twixt foes and foes.

  He, starting up, said, ‘Strange old man, that never tak’st repose;

  Thou art too patient of our toil, have we not men more young,

  To be employ’d from king to king? Thine age hath too much wrong.’

  ‘Said like a king,’ replied the sire: ‘for I have sons renown’d,

  As there are many other men might go this toilsome round;

  But you must see, imperious Need hath all at her command:

  Now on the eager razor’s edge, for life or death we stand.

  Then go (thou art the younger man), and if thou love my ease,

  Call swift-foot Ajax up thyself, and young Phyleides.’

  This said, he on his shoulders cast a yellow lion’s hide,

  Big, and reach’d earth, then took his spear, and Nestor’s will applied:

  Rais’d the heroës, brought them both. All met, the round they went,

  And found not any captain there asleep or negligent,

  But waking, and in arms, give ear to every lowest sound.

  And as keen dogs keep sheep in cotes, or folds of hurdles bound,

  And grin at every breach of air, envious of all that moves,

  Still list’ning when the ravenous beast stalks through the hilly groves;

  Then men and dogs stand on their guards, and mighty tumults make,

  Sleep wanting weight to close one wink: so did the captains wake,

  That kept the watch the whole sad night, all with intentive ear

  Converted to the enemies’ tents, that they might timely hear

  If they were stirring to surprise: which Nestor joy’d to see.

  ‘Why so, dear sons, maintain your watch, sleep not a wink,’ said he,

  ‘Rather than make your fames the scorn of Trojan perjury.’

  This said, he foremost pass’d the dike, the others seconded,

  Ev’n all the kings that had been call’d to counsel from the bed:

  And with them went Meriones, and Nestor’s famous son,

  For both were call’d by all the kings to consultation.

  Beyond the dike they chose a place, near as they could from blood,

  Where yet appear’d the falls of some, and whence (the crimson flood

  Of Grecian lives being pour’d on earth by Hector’s furious chace)

  He made retreat, when night repour’d grim darkness in his face.

  There sat they down, and Nestor spake: ‘O friends, remains not one

  That will rely on his bold mind, and view the camp alone

  Of the proud Trojans, to approve if any straggling mate

  He can surprise near th’ utmost tents, or learn the brief estate

  Of their intentions for the time, and mix
like one of them

  With their outguards, expiscating, if the renown’d extreme

  They force on us, will serve their turns, with glory to retire,

  Or still encamp thus far from Troy? This may he well inquire,

  And make a brave retreat untouch’d; and this would win him fame

  Of all men canopied with heav’n, and every man of name

  In all this host shall honour him with an enriching meed:

  A black ewe and her sucking lamb (rewards that now exceed

  All other best possessions, in all men’s choice requests) –

  And still be bidden by our kings to kind and royal feasts.’

  All reverenc’d one another’s worth; and none would silence break,

  Lest worst should take best place of speech: at last did Diomed speak:

  ‘Nestor, thou ask’st if no man here have heart so well inclin’d

  To work this stratagem on Troy: yes, I have such a mind.

  Yet if some other prince would join, more probable will be

  The strengthen’d hope of our exploit: two may together see

  (One going before another still) sly danger every way;

  One spirit upon another works, and takes with firmer stay

  The benefit of all his pow’rs: for though one knew his course,

  Yet might he well distrust himself, which th’ other might enforce.’

  This offer every man assum’d; all would with Diomed go:

  The two Ajaces, Merion, and Menelaus too,

  But Nestor’s son enforc’d it much, and hardy Ithacus,

  Who had to every vent’rous deed a mind as venturous.

  Amongst all these thus spake the king: ‘Tydides, most belov’d,

  Choose thy associate worthily: a man the most approv’d

  For use and strength in these extremes. Many thou seest stand forth:

  But choose not thou by height of place, but by regard of worth,

  Lest with thy nice respect of right to any man’s degree,

  Thou wrong’st thy venture, choosing one least fit to join with thee,

  Although perhaps a greater king.’ This spake he with suspect

  That Diomed (for honour’s sake) his brother would select.

  Then said Tydides: ‘Since thou giv’st my judgment leave to choose,

  How can it so much truth forget, Ulysses to refuse,

  That bears a mind so most exempt, and vigorous in th’ effect

  Of all high labours, and a man Pallas doth most respect?

  We shall return through burning fire, if I with him combine:

  He sets strength in so true a course with counsels so divine.’

  Ulysses, loth to be esteem’d a lover of his praise,

  With such exceptions humbled him, as did him higher raise,

  And said: ‘Tydides, praise me not more than free truth will bear,

  Nor yet empair me: they are Greeks that give judicial ear.

  But come, the morning hastes, the stars are forward in their course;

  Two parts of night are past, the third is left t’ employ our force.’

  Now borrow’d they for haste some arms: bold Thrasymedes lent

  Advent’rous Diomed his sword (his own was at his tent),

  His shield and helm, tough and well tann’d, without or plume or crest,

  And call’d a murrion; archers’ heads it used to invest.

  Meriones lent Ithacus his quiver and his bow,

  His helmet fashion’d of a hide: the workman did bestow

  Much labour in it, quilting it with bow-strings; and without,

  With snowy tusks of white-mouth’d boars ’twas armed round about

  Right cunningly: and in the midst, an arming cap was plac’d,

  That with the fix’d ends of the tusks his head might not be ras’d.

  This, long since, by Autolycus was brought from Eleon,

  When he laid waste Amyntor’s house, that was Ormenus’ son.

  In Scandia, to Cytherius, surnarn’d Amphydamas,

  Autolycus did give this helm: he, when he feasted was

  By honour’d Molus, gave it him, as present of a guest:

  Molus to his son Merion did make it his bequest.

  With this Ulysses arm’d his head; and thus they (both address’d)

  Took leave of all the other kings: to them a glad ostent,

  As they were ent’ring on their way, Minerva did present –

  A hernshaw consecrate to her; which they could ill discern

  Through sable night, but by her clang they knew it was a hern.

  Ulysses joy’d, and thus invok’d: ‘Hear me, great seed of Jove,

  That ever dost my labours grace with presence of thy love,

  And all my motions dost attend; still love me, sacred dame,

  Especially in this exploit, and so protect our fame,

  We both may safely make retreat, and thriftily employ

  Our boldness in some great affair, baneful to them of Troy.’

  Then pray’d illustrate Diomed: ‘Vouchsafe me likewise ear,

  O thou unconquer’d queen of arms: be with thy favours near,

  As to my royal father’s steps thou went’st a bounteous guide,

  When th’ Achives and the peers of Thebes he would have pacified,

  Sent as the Greeks’ ambassador, and left them at the flood

  Of great Aesopus; whose retreat thou mad’st to swim in blood

  Of his enambush’d enemies: and if thou so protect

  My bold endeavours, to thy name an heifer, most select,

  That never yet was tam’d with yoke, broad-fronted, one year old,

  I’ll burn in zealous sacrifice, and set the horns in gold.’

  The goddess heard, and both the kings their dreadful passage bore

  Through slaughter, slaughter’d carcasses, arms and discolour’d gore.

  Nor Hector let his princes sleep, but all to counsel call’d,

  And ask’d, ‘What one is here will vow, and keep it unappall’d,

  To have a gift fit for his deed, a chariot and two horse,

  That pass for speed the rest of Greece? What one dares take this course,

  For his renown, besides his gifts, to mix amongst the foe,

  And learn if still they hold their guards, or with this overthrow

  Determine flight, as being too weak to hold us longer war?’

  All silent stood; at last stood forth one Dolon, that did dare

  This dangerous work, Eumedes’ heir, a herald much renown’d:

  This Dolon did in gold and brass exceedingly abound,

  But in his form was quite deform’d, yet passing swift to run.

  Amongst five sisters he was left Eumedes’ only son.

  And he told Hector, his free heart would undertake t’ explore

  The Greeks’ intentions: ‘But,’ said he, ‘thou shalt be sworn before,

  By this thy sceptre, that the horse of great Aeacides

  And his strong chariot, bound with brass, thou wilt (before all these)

  Resign me as my valour’s prize; and so I rest unmov’d

  To be thy spy, and not return before I have approv’d

  (By venturing to Atrides’ ship, where their consults are held)

  If they resolve still to resist, or fly as quite expell’d.’

  He put his sceptre in his hand, and call’d the thunder’s god

  (Saturnia’s husband) to his oath, those horse should not be rode

  By any other man than he, but he for ever joy

  (To his renown) their services, for his good done to Troy.

>   Thus swore he, and forswore himself, yet made base Dolon bold:

  Who on his shoulders hung his bow, and did about him fold

  A white wolf’s hide, and with a helm of weasels’ skins did arm

  His weasel’s head; then took his dart, and never turn’d to harm

  The Greeks with their related drifts: but being past the troops

  Of horse and foot, he promptly runs; and as he runs he stoops

  To undermine Achilles’ horse. Ulysses straight did see,

  And said to Diomed: ‘This man makes footing towards thee,

  Out of the tents; I know not well, if he be us’d as spy,

  Bent to our fleet, or come to rob the slaughter’d enemy.

  But let us suffer him to come a little further on,

  And then pursue him. If it chance, that we be overgone

  By his more swiftness, urge him still to run upon our fleet,

  And (lest he ’scape us to the town) still let thy javelin meet

  With all his offers of retreat.’ Thus stepp’d they from the plain

  Amongst the slaughter’d carcasses. Dolon came on amain,

  Suspecting nothing; but once past, as far as mules outdraw

  Oxen at plough, being both put on, neither admitted law,

  To plough a deep soil’d furrow forth, so far was Dolon past:

  Then they pursu’d, which he perceiv’d, and stay’d his speedless haste,

  Subtly supposing Hector sent to countermand his spy:

  But in a javelin’s throw or less, he knew them enemy.

  Then laid he on his nimble knees, and they pursu’d like wind.

  As when a brace of greyhounds are laid in with hare or hind,

  Close-mouth’d and skill’d to make the best of their industrious course,

  Serve either’s turn, and set on hard, lose neither ground nor force:

  So constantly did Tydeus’ son, and his town-razing peer,

  Pursue this spy, still turning him, as he was winding near

  His covert, till he almost mix’d with their out-courts of guard.

  Then Pallas prompted Diomed, lest his due worth’s reward

  Should be impair’d, if any man did vaunt he first did sheath

  His sword in him, and he be call’d but second in his death:

  Then spake he (threat’ning with his lance): ‘Or stay, or this comes on,

  And long thou canst not run, before thou be by death outgone.’

  This said, he threw his javelin forth: which miss’d (as Diomed would)