Him with reproof he check’d or tamed with blows.
‘Be still, thou slave, and to thy betters yield;
Unknown alike in council and in field:
Ye Gods, what dastards would our host command?
Swept to the war, the number of a land. 240
Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow’d
That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd.
To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway;
His are the laws, and him let all obey.’
With words like these the troops Ulysses ruled, 245
The loudest silenc’d, and the fiercest cool’d.
Back to th’ assembly roll the thronging train,
Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain.
Murm’ring they move, as when old Ocean roars,
And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores: 250
The groaning banks are burst with bellowing sound,
The rocks remurmur, and the deeps rebound.
At length the tumult sinks, the noises cease,
And a still silence lulls the camp to peace.
Thersites only clamour’d in the throng, 255
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue:
Awed by no shame, by no respect controll’d,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold;
With witty malice studious to defame;
Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim. 260
But chief he gloried with licentious style
To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.
His figure such as might his soul proclaim:
One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame:
His mountain-shoulders half his breast o’erspread; 265
Thin hairs bestrew’d his long misshapen head.
Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess’d,
And much he hated all, but most the best.
Ulysses or Achilles still his theme;
But royal scandal his delight supreme. 270
Long had he lived the scorn of ev’ry Greek;
Vex’d when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak.
Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone,
Thus with injurious taunts attack’d the throne:
‘Amidst the glories of so bright a reign, 275
What moves the great Atrides to complain?
‘T is thine whate’er the warrior’s breast inflames,
The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames.
With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow,
Thy tents are crowded, and thy chests o’erflow. 280
Thus at full ease, in heaps of riches roll’d,
What grieves the Monarch? Is it thirst of gold?
Say, shall we march with our unconquer’d powers
(The Greeks and I), to Ilion’s hostile towers,
And bring the race of royal bastards here, 285
For Troy to ransom at a price too dear?
But safer plunder thy own host supplies;
Say, wouldst thou seize some valiant leader’s prize?
Or, if thy heart to gen’rous love be led,
Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed? 290
Whate’er our master craves, submit we must,
Plagued with his pride, or punish’d for his lust.
Oh, women of Achaia! men no more!
Hence let us fly, and let him waste his store
In loves and pleasures on the Phrygian shore. 295
We may be wanted on some busy day,
When Hector comes: so great Achilles may:
From him be forced the prize we jointly gave,
From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong, 300
This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long.’
Fierce from his seat, at this, Ulysses springs
In gen’rous vengeance of the King of Kings.
With indignation sparkling in his eyes,
He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies: 305
‘Peace, factious monster! born to vex the state,
With wrangling talents form’d for foul debate:
Curb that impetuous tongue, nor, rashly vain
And singly mad, asperse the sov’reign reign.
Have we not known thee, Slave! of all our host, 310
The man who acts the least, upbraids the most?
Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring,
Nor let those lips profane the name of King.
For our return we trust the heav’nly powers;
Be that their care; to fight like men be ours. 315
But grant the host with wealth the gen’ral load,
Except detraction, what hast thou bestow’d?
Suppose some hero should his spoils resign,
Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore, 320
And let these eyes behold my son no more;
If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear
To strip those arms thou ill deserv’st to wear,
Expel the council where our Princes meet,
And send thee scourged, and howling thro’ the fleet.’ 325
He said, and cow’ring as the dastard bends,
The weighty sceptre on his back descends,
On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise;
The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes:
Trembling he sat, and, shrunk in abject fears, 330
From his vile visage wiped the scalding tears.
While to his neighbour each express’d his thought:
‘Ye Gods! what wonders has Ulysses wrought!
What fruits his conduct and his courage yield,
Great in the council, glorious in the field! 335
Gen’rous he rises in the Crown’s defence,
To curb the factious tongue of insolence.
Such just examples on offenders shewn
Sedition silence, and assert the throne.’
‘T was thus the gen’ral voice the hero praised 340
Who, rising high, th’ imperial sceptre rais’d:
The blue-eyed Pallas, his celestial friend
(In form a herald), bade the crowds attend;
Th’ expecting crowds in still attention hung,
To hear the wisdom of his heav’nly tongue. 345
Then, deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke,
His silence thus the prudent hero broke:
‘Unhappy Monarch! whom the Grecian race,
With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace,
Not such at Argos was their gen’rous vow, 350
Once all their voice, but ah! forgotten now:
Ne’er to return, was then the common cry,
Till Troy’s proud structures should in ashes lie.
Behold them weeping for their native shore!
What could their wives or helpless children more? 355
What heart but melts to leave the tender train,
And, one short month, endure the wintry main?
Few leagues remov’d, we wish our peaceful seat,
When the ship tosses and the tempests beat:
Then well may this long stay provoke their tears, 360
The tedious length of nine revolving years.
Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame;
But vanquish’d! baffled! oh eternal shame!
Expect the time to Troy’s destruction giv’n,
And try the faith of Calchas and of Heav’n. 365
What pass’d at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,
And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air.
Beside a fountain’s sacred brink we rais’d
Our verdant altars, and the victims blazed
(‘T was where the plane-tree spread its shades around); 370
The altars heav’d; and from the crumbling ground
A mighty dragon sho
t, of dire portent;
From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent.
Straight to the tree his sanguine spires he roll’d,
And curl’d around in many a winding fold. 375
The topmost branch a mother-bird possess’d;
Eight callow infants fill’d the mossy nest;
Herself the ninth: the serpent, as he hung,
Stretch’d his black jaws, and crash’d the crying young;
While hov’ring near, with miserable moan, 380
The drooping mother wail’d her children gone.
The mother last, as round the nest she flew,
Seiz’d by the beating wing, the moster slew:
Nor long survived; to marble turn’d he stands
A lasting prodigy on Aulis’ sands, 385
Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare
Trust in his omen, and support the war.
For while around we gazed with wond’ring eyes,
And trembling sought the Powers with sacrifice,
Full of his God, the rev’rend Calchas cried; 390
“Ye Grecian warriors! lay your fears aside:
This wondrous signal Jove himself displays,
Of long, long labours, but eternal praise,
As many birds as by the snake were slain,
So many years the toils of Greece remain; 395
But wait the tenth, for Ilion’s fall decreed:”
Thus spoke the prophet, thus the Fates succeed.
Obey, ye Grecians, with submission wait,
Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate.’
He said: the shores with loud applauses sound, 400
The hollow ships each deaf’ning shout rebound.
Then Nestor thus: ‘These vain debates forbear:
Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare.
Where now are all your high resolves at last?
Your leagues concluded, your engagements past? 405
Vow’d with libations and with victims then,
Now vanish’d like their smoke: the faith of men!
While useless words consume th’ unactive hours,
No wonder Troy so long resists our powers.
Rise, great Atrides! and with courage sway; 410
We march to war, if thou direct the way.
But leave the few that dare resist thy laws,
The mean deserters of the Grecian cause,
To grudge the conquests mighty Jove prepares,
And view, with envy, our successful wars. 415
On that great day when first the martial train,
Big with the fate of Ilion, plough’d the main;
Jove on the right a prosp’rous signal sent,
And thunder rolling shook the firmament.
Encouraged hence, maintain the glorious strife, 420
Till ev’ry soldier grasp a Phrygian wife,
Till Helen’s woes at full revenged appear,
And Troy’s proud matrons render tear for tear.
Before that day, if any Greek invite
His country’s troops to base, inglorious flight, 425
Stand forth that Greek! and hoist his sail to fly;
And die the dastard first, who dreads to die.
But now, O monarch! all thy Chiefs advise:
Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise.
Among those counsels, let not mine be vain; 430
In tribes and nations to divide thy train:
His sep’rate troops let ev’ry leader call,
Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
What Chief, or soldier, of the numerous band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command, 435
When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known,
And what the cause of Ilion not o’erthrown;
If Fate resists, or if our arms are slow,
If Gods above prevent, or men below.’
To him the King: ‘How much thy years excel 440
In arts of council, and in speaking well!
Oh would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree
But ten such sages as they grant in thee;
Such wisdom soon should Priam’s force destroy,
And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy! 445
But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates
In fierce contention and in vain debates.
Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws,
By me provoked; a captive maid the cause:
If e’er as friends we join, the Trojan wall 450
Must shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall!
But now, ye warriors, take a short repast;
And, well-refresh’d, to bloody conflict haste.
His sharpen’d spear let every Grecian wield
And every Grecian fix his brazen shield; 455
Let all excite the fiery steeds of war,
And all for combat fit the rattling car.
This day, this dreadful day, let each contend;
No rest, no respite, till the shades descend;
Till darkness, or till death shall cover all, 460
Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall;
Till bathed in sweat be ev’ry manly breast,
With the huge shield each brawny arm depress’d,
Each aching nerve refuse the lance to throw,
And each spent courser at the chariot blow. 465
Who dares, inglorious, in his ships to stay,
Who dares to tremble on this signal day,
That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power,
The birds shall mangle and the dogs devour.’
The Monarch spoke: and straight a murmur rose, 470
Loud as the surges when the tempest blows,
That dash’d on broken rocks tumultuous roar,
And foam and thunder on the stony shore.
Straight to the tents the troops dispersing bend,
The fires are kindled, and the smokes ascend; 475
With hasty feasts they sacrifice, and pray
T’ avert the dangers of the doubtful day.
A steer of five years’ age, large limb’d, and fed,
To Jove’s high altars Agamemnon led:
There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers, 480
And Nestor first, as most advanc’d in years.
Next came Idomeneus and Tydeus’ son,
Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon;
Then wise Ulysses in his rank was placed;
And Menelaus came unbid, the last. 485
The Chiefs surround the destin’d beast, and take
The sacred off’ring of the salted cake:
When thus the King prefers his solemn prayer:
‘Oh thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air,
Who in the Heav’n of Heav’ns hast fix’d thy throne, 490
Supreme of Gods! unbounded and alone!
Hear, and before the burning sun descends,
Before the night her gloomy veil extends,
Low in the dust be laid yon hostile spires,
Be Priam’s palace sunk in Grecian fires, 495
In Hector’s breast be plunged this shining sword,
And slaughter’d heroes groan around their lord!’
Thus pray’d the Chief: his unavailing prayer
Great Jove refused, and toss’d in empty air:
The God, averse, while yet the fumes arose, 500
Prepar’d new toils, and doubled woes on woes.
Their prayers perform’d, the Chiefs the rites pursue,
The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew.
The limbs they sever from th’ enclosing hide,
The thighs, selected to the Gods, divide. 505
On these, in double cauls involv’d with art,
The choicest morsels lie from every part.
From the cleft wood the crackling flames aspire,
While the fat victim feeds the sacred fire.
The thighs thus sacrificed and e
ntrails dress’d, 510
Th’ assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest;
Then spread the tables, the repast prepare,
Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.
Soon as the rage of hunger was suppress’d,
The gen’rous Nestor thus the Prince address’d: 515
‘Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms,
And call the squadrons sheathed in brazen arms:
Now seize th’ occasion, now the troops survey,
And lead to war when Heav’n directs the way.’
He said; the Monarch issued his commands; 520
Straight the loud heralds call the gath’ring bands.
The Chiefs enclose their King: the hosts divide,
In tribes and nations rank’d on either side.
High in the midst the blue-eyed Virgin flies;
From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes: 525
The dreadful ægis, Jove’s immortal shield,
Blazed on her arm, and lighten’d all the field:
Round the vast orb a hundred serpents roll’d,
Form’d the bright fringe, and seem’d to burn in gold.
With this each Grecian’s manly breast she warms, 530
Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous arms;
No more they sigh inglorious to return,
But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn.
As on some mountain, thro’ the lofty grove,
The crackling flames ascend and blaze above, 535
The fires, expanding as the winds arise,
Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies,
So from the polish’d arms, and brazen shields,
A gleamy splendour flash’d along the fields.
Not less their number than th’ embodied cranes, 540
Or milk-white swans in Asius’ wat’ry plains,
That o’er the windings of Caÿster’s springs
Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling wings,
Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds;
Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds. 545
Thus numerous and confused, extending wide,
The legions crowd Scamander’s flow’ry side;
With rushing troops the plains are cover’d o’er,
And thund’ring footsteps shake the sounding shore;
Along the river’s level meads they stand, 550
Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land,
Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play,
The wand’ring nation of a summer’s day,
That, drawn by milky steams, at ev’ning hours,
In gather’d swarms surround the rural bowers; 555
From pail to pail with busy murmur run
The gilded legions, glitt’ring in the sun.
So throng’d, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 66