The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature)

by Homer

  As all were drinking, and each hand his load,

  The cup, let fall. All start up, and to bed,

  Nor more would watch, when sleep so surfeited

  Their leaden eyelids. Then did Pallas call

  Telemachus, in body, voice and all

  Resembling Mentor, from his native nest,

  And said, that all his arm’d men were addrest

  To use their oars, and all expected now

  He should the spirit of a soldier show.

  ‘Come then,’ said she, ‘no more let us defer

  Our honour’d action.’ Then she took on her

  A ravish’d spirit, and led as she did leap;

  And he her most haste took out step by step.

  Arrived at sea and ship, they found ashore

  The soldiers that their fashion’d-long hair wore;

  To whom the prince said: ‘Come my friends, let’s bring

  Our voyage’s provision; every thing

  Is heap’d together in our court; and none –

  No not my mother, nor her maids – but one

  Knows our intention.’ This express’d, he led,

  The soldiers close together followed;

  And all together brought aboard their store.

  Aboard the prince went; Pallas still before

  Sat at the stern, he close to her, the men

  Up hasted after. He and Pallas then

  Put from the shore. His soldiers then he bad

  See all their arms fit; which they heard, and had.

  A beechen mast, then, in the hollow base

  They put, and hoisted, fix’d it in his place

  With cables; and with well-wreath’d halsers hoise

  Their white sails, which grey Pallas now employs

  With full and fore-gales through the dark deep main.

  The purple waves, so swift cut, roar’d again

  Against the ship sides, that now ran and plow’d

  The rugged seas up. Then the men bestow’d

  Their arms about the ship, and sacrifice

  With crown’d wine-cups to th’ endless deities

  They offer’d up. Of all yet thron’d above,

  They most observ’d the grey-eyed seed of Jove;

  Who, from the evening till the morning rose,

  And all day long, their voyage did dispose.

  The end of the second book

  Book 3

  The Argument

  Telemachus, and heav’n’s wise dame

  That never husband had, now came

  To Nestor; who his either guest

  Received at the religious feast

  He made to Neptune on his shore,

  And there told what was done before

  The Trojan turrets, and the state

  Of all the Greeks since llion’s fate.

  This book these three of greatest place

  Doth serve with many a varied grace.

  Which past, Minerva takes her leave.

  Whose state when Nestor doth perceive,

  With sacrifice he makes it known,

  Where many a pleasing rite is shown.

  Which done, Telemachus hath gain’d

  A chariot of him; who ordain’d

  Pisistratus, his son, his guide

  To Sparta; and when starry-eyed

  The ample heav’n began to be,

  All house-rites to afford them free,

  In Pheris, Diocles did please,

  His surname Ortilochides.

  Another Argument

  Gamma

  Ulysses’ son

  With Nestor lies,

  To Sparta gone;

  Thence Pallas flies.

  Book 3

  The sun now left the great and goodly lake,

  And to the firm heav’n bright ascent did make,

  To shine as well upon the mortal birth,

  Inhabiting the plow’d life-giving earth,

  As on the ever-treaders-upon-death.

  And now to Pylos, that so garnisheth

  Herself with buildings, old Neleus’ town,

  The prince and goddess come had strange sights shown;

  For, on the marine shore, the people there

  To Neptune, that the azure locks doth wear,

  Beeves that were wholly black gave holy flame.

  Nine seats of state they made to his high name;

  And every seat set with five hundred men,

  And each five hundred was to furnish then

  With nine black oxen every sacred seat.

  These of the entrails only pleas’d to eat,

  And to the god enflam’d the fleshy thighs.

  By this time Pallas with the sparkling eyes,

  And he she led, within the haven bore,

  Struck sail, cast anchor, and trod both the shore,

  She first, he after. Then said Pallas: ‘Now

  No more befits thee the least bashful brow;

  T’ embolden which this act is put on thee,

  To seek thy father both at shore and sea,

  And learn in what clime he abides so close,

  Or in the power of what Fate doth repose.

  Come then, go right to Nestor; let us see

  If in his bosom any counsel be,

  That may inform us. Pray him not to trace

  The common courtship, and to speak in grace

  Of the demanders, but to tell the truth;

  Which will delight him, and commend thy youth

  For such prevention; for he loves no lies,

  Nor will report them, being truly wise.’

  He answer’d: ‘Mentor! How, alas, shall I

  Present myself? How greet his gravity?

  My youth by no means that ripe form affords

  That can digest my mind’s instinct in words

  Wise, and beseeming th’ ears of one so sage.

  Youth of most hope blush to use words with age.’

  She said: ‘Thy mind will some conceit impress,

  And something god will prompt thy towardness;

  For, I suppose, thy birth, and breeding too,

  Were not in spite of what the gods could do.’

  This said, she swiftly went before, and he

  Her steps made guides, and follow’d instantly.

  When soon they reach’d the Pylian throngs and seats

  Where Nestor with his sons sat; and the meats

  That for the feast serv’d, round about them were

  Adherents dressing, all their sacred cheer

  Being roast and boil’d meats. When the Pylians saw

  These strangers come, in thrust did all men draw

  About their entry, took their hands, and pray’d

  They both would sit; their entry first assay’d

  By Nestor’s son, Pisistratus. In grace

  Of whose repair, he gave them honour’d place

  Betwixt his sire and brother Thrasymed,

  Who sat at feast on soft fells that were spread

  Along the sea sands, carv’d, and reach’d to them

  Parts of the inwards, and did make a stream

  Of spritely wine into a golden bowl;

  Which to Minerva with a gentle soul

  He gave, and thus spake: ‘Ere you eat, fair guest,

  Invoke the seas’ king, of whose sacred feast

  Your travel hither makes ye partners now;

  When, sacrificing as becomes, bestow

  This bowl of sweet wine on your friend, that he

&n
bsp; May likewise use these rites of piety;

  For I suppose his youth doth prayers use,

  Since all men need the gods. But you I choose

  First in this cup’s disposure, since his years

  Seem short of yours, who more like me appears.’

  Thus gave he her the cup of pleasant wine;

  And since a wise and just man did design

  The golden bowl first to her free receipt,

  Ev’n to the goddess it did add delight,

  Who thus invok’d: ‘Hear thou, whose vast embrace

  Enspheres the whole earth, nor disdain thy grace

  To us that ask it in performing this:

  To Nestor first, and these fair sons of his,

  Vouchsafe all honour; and, next them, bestow

  On all these Pylians, that have offer’d now

  This most renowned hecatomb to thee,

  Remuneration fit for them, and free;

  And lastly deign Telemachus and me,

  The work perform’d for whose effect we came,

  Our safe return, both with our ship and fame.’

  Thus prayed she; and herself herself obey’d,

  In th’ end performing all for which she pray’d.

  And now, to pray, and do as she had done,

  She gave the fair round bowl t’ Ulysses’ son.

  The meat then dress’d and drawn, and serv’d t’ each guest,

  They celebrated a most sumptuous feast.

  When, appetite to wine and food allay’d,

  Horse-taming Nestor then began, and said:

  ‘Now life’s desire is serv’d, as far as fare,

  Time fits me to enquire what guests these are.

  Fair guests, what are ye? And for what coast tries

  Your ship the moist deeps? For fit merchandise,

  Or rudely coast ye, like our men of prise,

  The rough seas tempting, desperately erring,

  The ill of others in their good conferring?’

  The wise prince now his boldness did begin,

  For Pallas’ self had harden’d him within,

  By this device of travel to explore

  His absent father; which two girlonds wore:

  His good by manage of his spirits; and then

  To gain him high grace in th’ accounts of men.

  ‘O Nestor, still in whom Neleus lives,

  And all the glory of the Greeks survives,

  You ask from whence we are, and I relate:

  From Ithaca (whose seat is situate

  Where Neius, the renowned mountain, rears

  His haughty forehead, and the honour bears

  To be our sea-mark) we assay’d the waves.

  The business, I must tell, our own good craves,

  And not the public. I am come t’ enquire

  If, in the fame that best men doth inspire

  Of my most-suffering father, I may hear

  Some truth of his estate now, who did bear

  The name, being join’d in fight with you alone,

  To even with earth the height of Ilion.

  Of all men else that any name did bear,

  And fought for Troy, the several ends we hear;

  But his death Jove keeps from the world unknown,

  The certain fame thereof being told by none –

  If on the continent by enemies slain,

  Or with the waves eat of the ravenous main.

  For his love ’tis that to your knees I sue,

  That you would please, out of your own clear view,

  T’ assure his sad end, or say, if your ear

  Hath heard of the unhappy wanderer,

  To too much sorrow whom his mother bore.

  You then by all your bounties I implore,

  (If ever to you deed or word hath stood

  By my good father promis’d, render’d good

  Amongst the Trojans, where ye both have tried

  The Grecian suff’rance) that in nought applied

  To my respect or pity you will glose,

  But uncloth’d truth to my desires disclose.’

  ‘O my much-lov’d,’ said he, ‘since you renew

  Remembrance of the miseries that grew

  Upon our still-in-strength-opposing Greece

  Amongst Troy’s people, I must touch a piece

  Of all our woes there, either in the men

  Achilles brought by sea and led to gain

  About the country, or in us that fought

  About the city, where to death were brought

  All our chief men, as many as were there.

  There Mars-like Ajax lies; Achilles there;

  There the in-counsel-like-the-gods, his friend;

  There my dear son Antilochus took end,

  Past measure swift of foot, and staid in fight.

  A number more that ills felt infinite;

  Of which to reckon all, what mortal man,

  If five or six years you should stay here, can

  Serve such enquiry? You would back again,

  Affected with unsufferable pain,

  Before you heard it. Nine years sieg’d we them,

  With all the depth and sleight of stratagem

  That could be thought. Ill knit to ill past end.

  Yet still they toil’d us; nor would yet Jove send

  Rest to our labours, nor will scarcely yet.

  But no man lived, that would in public set

  His wisdom by Ulysses’ policy,

  As thought his equal; so excessively

  He stood superior all ways. If you be

  His son indeed, mine eyes even ravish me

  To admiration. And in all consent

  Your speech puts on his speech’s ornament.

  Nor would one say, that one so young could use,

  Unless his son, a rhetoric so profuse.

  And while we liv’d together, he and I

  Never in speech maintain’d diversity;

  Nor sat in counsel but, by one soul led,

  With spirit and prudent counsel furnished

  The Greeks at all hours, that with fairest course,

  What best became them they might put in force.

  But when Troy’s high tow’rs we had levell’d thus,

  We put to sea, and god divided us.

  And then did Jove our sad retreat devise:

  For all the Greeks were neither just nor wise,

  And therefore many felt so sharp a fate,

  Sent from Minerva’s most pernicious hate;

  Whose mighty father can do fearful things.

  By whose help she betwixt the brother kings

  Let fall contention; who in council met

  In vain, and timeless, when the sun was set,

  And all the Greeks call’d, that came charg’d with wine.

  Yet then the kings would utter their design,

  And why they summon’d. Menelaus, he

  Put all in mind of home, and cried, ‘To sea.’

  But Agamemnon stood on contraries,

  Whose will was, they should stay and sacrifice

  Whole hecatombs to Pallas, to forego

  Her high wrath to them. Fool, that did not know

  She would not so be won; for not with ease

  Th’ eternal gods are turn’d from what they please.

  So they, divided, on foul language stood.

  The Greeks in huge rout rose, their wine-heat blood

  Two ways affecting. And, that night’s sleep too,

 
We turn’d to studying either other’s woe;

  When Jove besides made ready woes enow.

  Morn came, we launch’d, and in our ships did stow

  Our goods, and fair-girt women. Half our men

  The people’s guide, Atrides, did contain,

  And half, being now aboard, put forth to sea.

  A most free gale gave all ships prosperous way.

  god settled then the huge whale-bearing lake,

  And Tenedos we reach’d; where, for time’s sake,

  We did divine rites to the gods. But Jove,

  Inexorable still, bore yet no love

  To our return, but did again excite

  A second sad contention, that turn’d quite

  A great part of us back to sea again,

  Which were: th’ abundant-in-all-counsels man,

  Your matchless father who, to gratify

  The great Atrides, back to him did fly.

  But I fled all, with all that follow’d me,

  Because I knew god studied misery,

  To hurl amongst us. With me likewise fled

  Martial Tydides. I the men he led

  Gat to go with him. Winds our fleet did bring

  To Lesbos, where the yellow-headed king,

  Though late, yet found us, as we put to choice

  A tedious voyage: if we sail should hoise

  Above rough Chius, left on our left hand,

  To th’ isle of Psyria; or that rugged land

  Sail under, and for windy Mimas steer.

  We ask’d of god that some ostent might clear

  Our cloudy business, who gave us sign,

  And charge, that all should, in a middle line,

  The sea cut for Euboea, that with speed

  Our long-sustain’d infortune might be freed.

  Then did a whistling wind begin to rise,

  And swiftly flew we through the fishy skies,

  Till to Geraestus we in night were brought;

  Where, through the broad sea since we safe had wrought,

  At Neptune’s altars many solid thighs

  Of slaughter’d bulls we burn’d for sacrifice.

  The fourth day came, when Tydeus’ son did greet

  The haven of Argos with his complete fleet.

  But I for Pylos straight steer’d on my course,

  Nor ever left the wind his foreright force,

  Since god fore-sent it first. And thus I came,

  Dear son, to Pylos, uninform’d by fame,

  Nor know one sav’d by Fate or overcome.

  Whom I have heard of since, set here at home,

  As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.

  The expert spear-men, every Myrmidon,