The Iliad - Homer (ebook reader library .txt) š
- Author: Homer
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For in that day he vainly hopād to take The town of Priam; ignorant what Jove
Designād in secret, or what woes, what groans, What lengthenād labours in the stubborn fight, Were yet for Trojans and for Greeks in store.
He woke from sleep; but oāer his senses spread Dwelt still the heavenly voice; he sat upright; He donnād his vest of texture fine, new-wrought, Then oāer it threw his ample robe, and bound His sandals fair around his well-turnād feet; And oāer his shoulders flung his sword, adornād With silver studs; and bearing in his hand His royal staff, ancestral, to the ships Where lay the brass-clad warriors, bent his way.
Aurora now was rising up the steep
Of great Olympus, to thā immortal Gods Pure light diffusing; when Atrides bade The clear-voicād heralds to thā Assembly call The genāral host; they gave the word, and straight From evāry quarter throngād the eager crowd.
But first, of all the Elders, by the side Of Nestorās ship, the aged Pylian chief, A secret conclave Agamemnon callād;
And, prudent, thus the chosen few addressād: āHear me, my friends! In the still hours of night I saw a heavānly Vision in my sleep:
Most like it seemed in stature, form, and face To revārend Nestor; at my head it stood, And with these words addressād meāāSleepāst thou, son Of Atreus, valiant warrior, horseman bold?
To sleep all night but ill becomes a chief, Chargād with the public weal, and cares of state.
Hear now the words I bear: to thee I come A messenger from Jove, who from on high Looks down on thee with eyes of pitying love.
He bids thee arm in haste the long-hairād Greeks To combat: since the wide-built streets of Troy Thou now mayāst capture; for thā immortal Gods Watch over her no longer: all are gainād By Junoās prayārs, and woes impend oāer Troy.
Bear thou my words in mind.ā Thus as he spoke He vanishād; and sweet sleep forsook mine eyes.
Seek we then straight to arm the sons of Greece: But first, as is our wont, myself will prove The spirit of the army; and suggest
Their homeward voyage; ye, throughout the camp Restore their courage, and restrain from flight.ā
Thus having said, he sat; and next arose Nestor, the chief of Pylosā sandy shore.
Who thus with prudent speech replied, and said: āO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece, If any other had this Vision seen,
We should have deemād it false, and laughād to scorn The idle tale; but now it hath appearād, Of all our army, to the foremost man:
Seek we then straight to arm the sons of Greece.ā
He said, and from the council led the way.
Uprose the sceptred monarchs, and obeyād Their leaderās call, and round them throngād the crowd.
As swarms of bees, that pour in ceaseless stream From out the crevice of some hollow rock, Now clustāring, and anon āmid vernal flowārs, Some here, some there, in busy numbers fly; So to thā Assembly from their tents and ships The countless tribes came thronging; in their midst, By Jove enkindled, Rumour urged them on.
Great was the din; and as the mighty mass Sat down, the solid earth beneath them groanād; Nine heralds raisād their voices loud, to quell The storm of tongues, and bade the noisy crowd Be still, and listen to the Heavān-born Kings.
At length they all were seated, and awhile Their clamours sank to silence; then uprose The monarch Agamemnon, in his hand
His royal staff, the work of Vulcanās art; Which Vulcan to the son of Saturn gave; To Hermes he, the heavānly messenger;
Hermes to Pelops, matchless charioteer; Pelops to Atreus; Atreus at his death
Bequeathād it to Thyestes, wealthy Lord Of numārous herds; to Agamemnon last
Thyestes left it; token of his sway
Oāer all the Argive coast, and neighbouring isles.
On this the monarch leant, as thus he spoke: āFriends, Grecian Heroes, Ministers of Mars!
Grievous, and all unlookād for, is the blow Which Jove hath dealt me; by his promise led I hopād to raze the strong-built walls of Troy, And home return in safety; but it seems He falsifies his word, and bids me now Return to Argos, frustrate of my hope, Dishonourād, and with grievous loss of men.
Such now appears thā oāerruling sovāreign will Of Saturnās son; who oft hath sunk the heads Of many a lofty city in the dust,
And yet will sink; for mighty is his hand.
āTis shame indeed that future days should hear How such a force as ours, so great, so brave, Hath thus been baffled, fighting, as we do, āGainst numbers far inferior to our own, And see no end of all our warlike toil.
For should we choose, on terms of plighted truce, Trojans and Greeks, to number our array; Of Trojans, all that dwell within the town, And we, by tens disposed, to every ten, To crown our cups, one Trojan should assign, Full many a ten no cupbearer would find: So far the sons of Greece outnumber all That dwell within the town; but to their aid Bold warriors come from all the cities round, Who greatly harass me, and render vain My hope to storm the strong-built walls of Troy.
Already now nine weary years have passād; The timbers of our ships are all decayād, The cordage rotted; in our homes the while Our wives and helpless children sit, in vain Expecting our return; and still the work, For which we hither came, remains undone.
Hear then my counsel; let us all agree Home to direct our course, since here in vain We strive to take the well-built walls of Troy.ā
Thus as he spoke, the crowd, that had not heard The secret council, by his words was movād; So swayād and heavād the multitude, as when Oāer the vast billows of thā Icarian sea Eurus and Notus from the clouds of Heavān Pour forth their fury; or as some deep field Of wavy corn, when sweeping oāer the plain The ruffling west wind sways the bending ears; So was thā Assembly stirrād; and towārd the ships With clamārous joy they rushād; beneath, their feet Rose clouds of dust, while one to other callād To seize the ships and drag them to the main.
They clearād the channels, and with shouts of āhomeā
That rose to Heavān, they knockād the shores away.
Then had the Greeks in shameful flight withdrawn, Had Juno not to Pallas thus appealād:
āOh Heavān! brave child of aegis-bearing Jove, Shall thus the Greeks, in ignominious flight, Oāer the wide sea their homeward course pursue, And as a trophy to the sons of Troy
The Argive Helen leave, on whose account, Far from their home, so many valiant Greeks Have cast their lives away? Go quickly thou Amid the brass-clad Greeks, and man by man Address with words persuasive, nor permit To launch their well-trimmād vessels on the deep.ā
She said, nor did Minerva not obey,
But swift descending from Olympusā heights With rapid flight she reachād the Grecian ships.
Laertesā son, in council sage as Jove
There found she standing; he no hand had laid On his dark vessel, for with bitter grief His heart was filled; the blue-eyād Maid approachād, And thus addressād him: āGreat Laertesā son, Ulysses, sage in council, can it be
That you, the men of Greece, embarking thus On your swift ships, in ignominious flight, Oāer the wide sea will take your homeward way, And as a trophy to the sons of Troy
The Argive Helen leave, on whose account Far from their homes so many valiant Greeks Have cast their lives away? Go quickly thou Among the multitude, and man by man
Address with words persuasive, nor permit To launch their well-trimmād vessels on the deep.ā
She said; the heavānly voice Ulysses knew; Straight, springing to the course, he cast aside, And to Eurybates of Ithaca,
His herald and attendant, threw his robe; Then to Atrides hastenād, and by him
Armād with his royal staff ancestral, passād With rapid step amid the ships of Greece.
Each King or leader whom he found he thus With cheering words encouragād and restrainād: āO gallant friend, ātis not for thee to yield, Like meaner men, to panic; but thyself Sit quiet, and the common herd restrain.
Thou knowāst not yet Atridesā secret mind: He tries us now, and may reprove us soon.
His words in council reachād not all our ears: See that he work us not some ill; for fierce His anger; and the Lord of counsel, Jove, From whom proceeds all honour, loves him well.ā
But of the common herd whomeāer he found Clamāring, he checkād with staff and threatāning words: āGood friend, keep still, and hear what others say, Thy betters far: for thou art good for nought, Of small account in council or in fight.
All are not sovereigns here: ill fares the state Where many masters rule; let one be Lord, One King supreme; to whom wise Saturnās son In token of his sovāreign power hath givān The sceptreās sway and ministry of law.ā
Such were his words, as through the ranks he passād: They from the vessels and the tents again Throngād to thā Assembly, with such rush of sound, As when the many-dashing oceanās wave
Breaks on the shore, and foams the frothing sea.
The others all were settled in their seats: Only Thersites, with unmeasurād words, Of which he had good store, to rate the chiefs, Not over-seemly, but wherewith he thought To move the crowd to laughter, brawlād aloud.
The ugliest man was he who came to Troy: With squinting eyes, and one distorted foot, His shoulders round, and buried in his breast His narrow head, with scanty growth of hair.
Against Achilles and Ulysses most
His hate was turnād; on them his venom pourād; Anon, at Agamemnonās self he launchād
His loud-tongued ribaldry; āgainst him he knew Incensed the public mind; and bawling loud, [1]
With scurril words, he thus addressād the King: āWhat more, thou son of Atreus, wouldāst thou have?
Thy tents are full of brass; and in those tents Many fair women, whom, from all the spoil, We Greeks, wheneāer some wealthy town we take, Choose first of all, and set apart for thee.
Or dost thou thirst for gold, which here perchance Some Trojan brings, the ransom of his son Capturād by me, or by some other Greek?
Or some new girl, to gratify thy lust, Kept for thyself apart? a leader, thou Shouldst not to evil lead the sons of Greece.
Ye slaves! ye coward souls! Women of Greece!
I will not call you men! why go we not Home with our ships, and leave this mighty chief To gloat upon his treasures, and find out Whether in truth he need our aid, or no; Who on Achilles, his superior far,
Foul scorn hath cast, and robbād him of his prize, Which for himself he keeps? Achilles, sure, Is not intemperate, but mild of mood;
Else, Atreusā son, this insult were thy last.ā
On Agamemnon, leader of the host,
With words like these Thersites pourād his hate; But straight Ulysses at his side appearād, And spoke, with scornful glance, in stern rebuke: āThou babbling fool, Thersites, prompt of speech, Restrain thy tongue, nor singly thus presume The Kings to slander; thou, the meanest far Of all that with the Atridae came to Troy.
Ill it beseems, that such an one as thou Should lift thy voice against the Kings, and rail With scurril ribaldry, and prate of home.
How these affairs may end, we know not yet; Nor how, or well or ill, we may return.
Cease then against Atrides, King of men, To pour thy spite, for that the valiant Greeks To him, despite thy
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