The Iliad - Homer (ebook reader library .txt) đ
- Author: Homer
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Thoas, Deipyrus, Meriones,
And young Antilochus, brave warriors all, And to the chiefs his winged words addressâd: âShame on ye, Grecian youths! to you I lookâd As to our shipsâ defenders; but if ye
Shrink from the perilous battle, then indeed Our day is come, to be by Troy subduâd.
O Heavân! a sad and wondrous sight is this, A sight I never deemâd my eyes should see, Our ships assailâd by Trojan troops; by those Who heretofore have been as timârous hinds Amid the forest depths, the helpless prey Of jackals, pards, and wolves; they here and there, Uncertain, heartless, unresisting, fly: Such were the Trojans once; nor darâd abide, No, not an hour, the strength and arms of Greece; And these are they, who now beside our ships, Far from their city walls, maintain the fight, Emboldenâd by our great commanderâs fault, And slackness of the people, who, with him Offended, scarce are brought to guard our ships.
And, feebly fighting, are beside them slain.
Eâen though the mighty monarch, Atreusâ son, Wide-ruling Agamemnon, be in truth
Wholly to blame in this, that he hath wrongâd The son of Peleus, yet âtis not for us Our courage to relax. Arouse ye then!
A brave manâs spirit its vigour soon regains.
That ye, the best and bravest of the host, Should stand aloof thus idly, âtis not well; If meaner men should from the battle shrink, I might not blame them; but that such as ye Should falter, indignation fills my soul.
Dear friends, from this remissness must accrue Yet greater evils; but with genârous shame And keen remorse let each manâs breast be fillâd; Fierce is the struggle; in his pride of strength Hector has forcâd the gates and massive bars, And raging, âmid the ships maintains the war.â
Thus Neptune on the Greeks, reproving, callâd: Then round thâ Ajaces twain were clusterâd thick The serried files, whose firm array nor Mars, Nor spirit-stirring Pallas might reprove: For there, the bravest all, in order due, Waited the Trojan charge by Hector led: Spear close by spear, and shield by shield oâerlaid, Buckler to buckler pressâd, and helm to helm, And man to man; the horsehair plumes above, That nodded on the warriorsâ glittâring crests, Each other touchâd; so closely massed they stood.
Backward, by many a stalwart hand, were drawn The spears, in act to hurl; their eyes and minds Turnâd to the front, and eager for the fray.
On pourâd the Trojan masses; in the van Hector straight forward urgâd his furious course.
As some huge boulder, from its rocky bed Detachâd, and by the wintry torrentâs force Hurlâd down the cliffâs steep face, when constant rains The massive rockâs firm hold have underminâd; With giant bounds it flies; the crashing wood Resounds beneath it; still it hurries on, Until, arriving at the level plain,
Its headlong impulse checkâd, it rolls no more; So Hector, threatâning now through ships and tents, Eâen to the sea, to force his murdârous way, Anon, confronted by that phalanx firm, Halts close before it; while the sons of Greece, With thrust of sword and double-pointed spears, Stave off his onset; he a little space Withdrew, and loudly on the Trojans callâd: âTrojans, and Lycians, and ye Dardans famâd In close encounter, stand ye firm! not long The Greeks, though densely massâd, shall bar my way, But soon, methinks, before my spear shall quail, If from the chief of Gods my mission be, From Jove the Thundârer, royal Junoâs Lord.â
His words fresh courage raisâd in evâry breast; On loftiest deeds intent, Deiphobus,
The son of Priam, from the foremost ranks, His shieldâs broad orb before him borne, advancâd With airy step, protected by the shield: At him Meriones with glittâring spear
Took aim, nor missâd his mark; the shieldâs broad orb Of tough bullâs-hide it struck; but passâd not through, For near the head the sturdy shaft was snappâd.
Yet from before his breast Deiphobus
Held at armâs length his shield; for much he fearâd The weapon of Meriones; but he
Back to his comradesâ sheltâring ranks withdrew, Grievâd at his baffled hopes and broken spear.
Then towârd the ships he bent his steps, to seek Another spear, which in his tent remainâd.
The rest, âmid wild uproar, maintainâd the fight.
There Teucer first, the son of Telamon, A warrior slew, the son of Mentor, Lord Of numârous horses, Imbrius, spearman skillâd.
In former days, ere came the sons of Greece, He in Pedaeus dwelt, and had to wife
Medesicaste, Priamâs bastard child;
But when the well-trimmâd ships of Greece appearâd, Returnâd to Troy; and there, reverâd by all, With Priam dwelt, who lovâd him as a son.
Him Teucer with his lance below the ear Stabbâd, and drew back the weapon; down he fell, As by the woodmanâs axe, on some high peak, Falls a proud ash, conspicuous from afar, Scattâring its tender foliage on the ground; He fell; and loud his burnishâd armour rang.
Forth Teucer sprang to seize the spoil; at whom, Advancing, Hector aimâd his glittâring spear; He saw, and, stooping, shunnâd the brazen death A little space; but through the breast it struck Amphimachus, the son of Cteatus,
The son of Actor, hastening to the fight: Thundâring he fell, and loud his armour rang.
Then forward Hector sprang, in hopes to seize The brazen helm, that fitted well the brow Of brave Amphimachus; but Ajax met
Thâ advance of Hector with his glittâring spear; Himself he reachâd not, all in dazzling brass Encasâd; but pressing on his bossy shield Drove by main force beyond where lay the dead: Them both the Greeks withdrew; thâ Athenian chiefs Stychius and brave Menestheus, bore away Amid the ranks of Greece Amphimachus;
While, as two lions high above the ground Bear through the brushwood in their jaws a goat, Snatchâd from the sharp-fangâd dogsâ protecting care: So, fillâd with warlike rage, thâ Ajaces twain Lifted on high, and of its armour strippâd The corpse of Imbrius; and Oileusâ son, Grievâd at Amphimachus, his comradeâs death, Cut from the tender neck, and like a ball Sent whirling through the crowd the severâd head; And in the dust at Hectorâs feet it fell.
Then, for his grandson slain, fierce anger fillâd The breast of Neptune; through the tents of Greece And ships he passâd, the Greeks encouraging, And ills preparing for the sons of Troy.
Him met Idomeneus, the warrior King,
Leaving a comrade, from the battle field, Wounded behind the knee, but newly brought; Borne by his comrades, to the leechâs care He left him, eager to rejoin the fray; Whom by his tent thâ Earth-shaking God addressâd, The voice assuming of Andraemonâs son, Who oâer thâ AEtolians, as a God reverâd, In Pleuron reignâd, and lofty Calydon: âWhere now, Idomeneus, sage Cretan chief, Are all the vaunting threats, so freely pourâd Against the Trojans by the sons of Greece?â
To whom the Cretan King, Idomeneus:
âThoas, on none, so far as I may judge, May blame be cast; we all our duties know; Nor see I one by heartless fear restrainâd, Nor hanging back, and flinching from the war: Yet by thâ oâerruling will of Saturnâs son It seems decreed that here the Greeks should fall, And far from Argos lie in nameless graves.
But, Thoas, as thyself art ever staunch, Nor slow the laggards to reprove, thy work Remit not now; but rouse each sevâral man.â
To whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied: âIdomeneus, may he from Troy return
No more, but here remain to glut the dogs, If such there be, from this dayâs fight who shrinks.
But haste thee, don thine arms; great need is now To hasten, if in aught we two may serve: Eâen meaner men, united, courage gain; But we the bravest need not fear to meet.â
He said, and to the strife of men returnâd.
Within his well-constructed tent arrivâd, Straight donnâd Idomeneus his armour bright: Two spears he took; and, like the lightningâs flash, Which, as a sign to men, the hand of Jove Hurls downwards from Olympusâ glittâring heights; Whose dazzling radiance far around is thrown; Flashâd, as the warrior ran, his armour bright.
Him met Meriones, his follower brave,
Close to the tent; to seek a spear he came; To whom Idomeneus: âMeriones,
Swift-footed son of Molus, comrade dear, Why comâst thou here, and leavâst the battle field?
Hast thou some wound receivâd, whereof the pain Subdues thy spirit? or comâst thou, to the field To summon me? unsummonâd, well thou knowâst I better love the battle than the tent.â
Whom answerâd thus the sage Meriones:
âIdomeneus, the brass-clad Cretansâ King, I come to seek a spear, if haply such
Within thy tent be found; for, in the fight, That which I lately bore, eâen now I broke Against the shield of brave Deiphobus.â
To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:
âOf spears, or one, or twenty, if thou list, Thou there mayst find against the polishâd wall.
The spoil of Trojans slain; for with my foes âTis not my wont to wage a distant war.
Thence have I store of spears, and bossy shields, And crested helms, and breastplates polishâd bright.â
Whom answerâd thus the sage Meriones:
âNor are my tent and dark-ribbâd ship devoid Of Trojan spoils; but they are far to seek; Nor deem I that my hand is slack in fight; For âmid the foremost in the glorious strife I stand, wheneâer is heard the battle cry.
My deeds by others of the brass-clad Greeks May not be noted; but thou knowâst them well.â
To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:
âWhat need of this? thy prowess well I know; For should we choose our bravest through the fleet To man the secret ambush, surest test
Of warriorsâ courage, where is manifest The diffârence âtwixt the coward and the brave; (The cowardâs colour changes, nor his soul Within his breast its even balance keeps, But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts, And in his bosom loudly beats his heart, Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth: The brave manâs colour changes not; no fear He knows, the ambush entâring; all his prayâr Is that the hour of battle soon may come) Eâen there, thy courage none might call in doubt.
Shouldst thou from spear or sword receive a wound, Not on thy neck behind, nor on thy back Would fall the blow, but on thy breast, in front, Still pressing onward âmid the foremost ranks.
But come, prolong we not this idle talk, Like babblers vain, who scorn might justly move: Haste to my tent, and there select thy spear.â
He said: and from the tent Meriones,
Valiant as Mars, his spear selected straight, And, eager for the fray, rejoinâd his chief.
As Mars, the bane of men, goes forth to war, Attended by his strong, unfearing son, Terror, who shakes the bravest warriorâs soul; They two, from Thrace, against the Ephyri, Or haughty Phlegyans arm; nor hear alike The prayârs of both the combatants, one side With victâry crowning; so to battle went Those leaders twain, in dazzling arms arrayâd: Then thus Meriones his chief addressâd: âSon of Deucalion, say if on the right, Or on the centre of the genâral host,
Our onset should be made, or on the left; For there, methinks, most succour need the Greeks.â
To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan chief:
âOthers there are the centre to defend, Thâ Ajaces both, and Teucer, of the Greeks Best archer, good too in the standing fight; These may for Hector full employment find, Brave as he is, and eager for the fray; Eâen for his courage âtwere a task too hard, Their might to conquer, and resistless hands, And burn the ships, if Saturnâs son himself Fire not, and âmid the shipping throw the torch.
Great
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