Homer

“ To you, O Grecians! be my wrong declared:
So not a leader shall our conduct blame,
Or judge me envious of a rival's fame.
But shall not we, ourselves, the truth maintain?
What needs appealing in a fact so plain?
What Greek shall blame me, if I bid thee rise,
And vindicate by oath the ill-gotten prize?
Rise, if thou darest, before thy chariot stand,
The driving scourge high lifted in thy hand,
And touch thy steeds, and swear thy whole intent
Was but to conquer, not to circumvent.
Swear by that god whose liquid arms surround
The globe, and whose dread earthquakes heave the ground. ”

“ Swells all their hearts, and strengthens all their hands.
On Ida's top he waits with longing eyes,
To view the navy blazing to the skies;
Then, nor till then, the scale of war shall turn,
The Trojans fly, and conquered Ilion burn.
These fates revolved in his almighty mind,
He raises Hector to the work designed,
Bids him with more than mortal fury glow,
And drives him, like a lightning, on the foe.
So Mars, when human crimes for vengeance call,
Shakes his huge javelin, and whole armies fall.
Not with more rage a conflagration rolls,
Wraps the vast mountains, and involves the poles. ”

“ Achilles' plume is stained with dust and gore,
That plume which never stooped to earth before;
Long used, untouched, in fighting fields to shine,
And shade the temples of the man divine;
Jove dooms it now on Hector's helm to nod;
Not long—for fate pursues him, and the god.
⁠His spear in shivers falls: his ample shield
Drops from his arm: his baldric strews the field:
The corselet his astonished breast forsakes;
Loose is each joint; each nerve with horror shakes;
Stupid he stares, and all assistless stands:
Such is the force of more than mortal hands! ”

“ Forgive me, Greece, if once I quit the field;
'Tis not to Hector, but to heaven, I yield;
Yet, not the god nor heaven should give me fear,
Did but the voice of Ajax reach my ear:
Still would we turn, still battle on the plains,
And give Achilles all that yet remains
Of his and our Patroclus." This, no more,
The time allowed: Troy thickened, on the shore;
A sable scene! The terrors Hector led;
Slow he recedes, and sighing quits the dead. ”

“ To grace her fierce inexorable son?
Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,
And glut his vengeance with my people slain."
Then thus the god: "O restless fate of pride,
That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide;
Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorred,
Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.
Let this suffice: the immutable decree
No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.
Goddess submit, nor dare our will withstand,
But dread the power of this avenging hand;
The united strength of all the gods above
In vain resists the omnipotence of Jove." ”

“ Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying chief.
His painful arm, yet useless with the smart
Inflicted late by Teucer's deadly dart,
Supported on his better hand he stayed:
To Phœbus then—'twas all he could—he prayed:
⁠"All-seeing monarch! whether Lycia's coast,
Or sacred Ilion, thy bright presence boast,
Powerful alike to ease the wretch's smart;
O hear me! god of every healing art!
Lo! stiff with clotted blood, and pierced with pain,
That thrills my arm, and shoots through every vein,
I stand unable to sustain the spear,
And sigh, at distance from the glorious war. ”

“ Observed the fury of his flying spear;
From Ida's woods he chased us to the field,
Our force he scattered, and our herds he killed:
Lyrnessus, Pedasus in ashes lay;
But, Jove assisting, I survived the day.
Else had I sunk, oppressed in fatal fight,
By fierce Achilles and Minerva's might.
Where'er he moved, the goddess shone before,
And bathed his brazen lance in hostile gore.
What mortal man Achilles can sustain?
The immortals guard him through the dreadful plain,
And suffer not his dart to fall in vain. ”

“ Idæus' arms the golden goblets pressed,
Who thus the venerable king addressed:
"Arise, O father of the Trojan state!
The nations call, thy joyful people wait,
To seal the truce, and end the dire debate.
Paris, thy son, and Sparta's king advance,
In measured lists to toss the weighty lance;
And who his rival shall in arms subdue,
His be the dame, and his the treasure too.
Thus with a lasting league our toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace:
So shall the Greeks review their native shore,
Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more." ”

“ Charged with Achilles' high commands I go,
A mournful witness of this scene of woe:
I haste to urge him, by his country's care,
To rise in arms, and shine again in war.
Perhaps some favouring god his soul may bend:
The voice is powerful of a faithful friend"
⁠He spoke; and, speaking, swifter than the wind
Sprung from the tent, and left the war behind.
The embodied Greeks the fierce attack sustain,
But strive, though numerous, to repulse in vain:
Nor could the Trojans, through that firm array,
Force, to the fleet and tents, the impervious way. ”

“ There great Idomeneus, Æneas here.
Like gods of war, dispensing fate, they stood,
And burned to drench the ground with mutual blood.
The Trojan weapon whizzed along in air:
The Cretan saw, and shunned the brazen spear:
Sent from an arm so strong, the missive wood
Stuck deep in earth, and quivered where it stood.
But Œnomas received the Cretan's stroke;
The forceful spear his hollow corselet broke;
It ripped his belly with a ghastly wound,
And rolled the smoking entrails to the ground;
Stretched on the plain, he sobs away his breath,
And furious grasps the bloody dust in death. ”

“ And now both heroes their broad faulchions drew;
In flaming circles round their heads they flew;
But then by heralds' voice the word was given,
The sacred ministers of earth and heaven:
Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ,
And sage Idæus on the part of Troy,
Between the swords their peaceful sceptres reared;
And first Idæus' awful voice was heard:
⁠"Forbear, my sons! your farther force to prove,
Both dear to men, and both beloved of Jove.
To either host your matchless worth is known,
Each sounds your praise, and war is all your own. ”

“ Behold I from Jove descending to thy aid,
Propitious Neptune, and the blue-eyed Maid.
Stay, and the furious flood shall cease to rave:
'Tis not thy fate to glut his angry wave.
But thou the counsel heaven suggests attend;
Nor breathe from combat, nor thy sword suspend,
Till Troy receive her flying sons, till all
Her routed squadrons pant behind their wall:
Hector alone shall stand his fatal chance,
And Hector's blood shall smoke upon thy lance;
Thine is the glory doomed." Thus spake the gods:
Then swift ascended to the bright abodes. ”

“ I scattered slaughter from my fatal bow.
The chiefs you seek, on yonder shore lie slain;
Of all those heroes, two alone remain;
Deïphobus, and Helenus the seer,
Each now disabled by a hostile spear.
Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires;
This heart and hand shall second all thy fires:
What with this arm I can, prepare to know,
Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow.
But 'tis not ours, with forces not our own
To combat; strength is of the gods alone."
⁠These words the hero's angry mind assuage;
Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage. ”

“ On high designs the wakeful hours employ;
The assembled peers their lofty chief enclosed;
Who thus the counsels of his breast proposed:
⁠"What glorious man, for high attempts prepared,
Dares greatly venture for a rich reward?
Of yonder fleet a bold discovery make,
What watch they keep, and what resolves they take?
If now, subdued, they meditate their flight,
And, spent with toil, neglect the watch of night?
His be the chariot that shall please him most,
Of all the plunder of the vanquished host;
His the fair steeds that all the rest excel,
And his the glory to have served so well." ”

“ Atrides, seize not on the beauteous slave;
That prize the Greeks by common suffrage gave;
Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride;
Let kings be just, and sovereign power preside.
Thee, the first honours of the war adorn,
Like gods in strength, and of a goddess born;
Him, awful majesty exalts above
The powers of earth, and sceptred sons of Jove,
Let both unite with well-consenting mind;
So shall authority with strength be joined.
Leave me, O king! to calm Achilles' rage;
Rule thou thyself, as more advanced in age. ”

“ The starting coursers, and restrain their rage,
Divides the traces with his sword, and freed
The encumbered chariot from the dying steed:
The rest move on, obedient to the rein;
The car rolls slowly o'er the dusty plain.
⁠The towering chiefs to fiercer fight advance,
And first Sarpedon whirled his mighty lance,
Which o'er the warrior's shoulder took its course,
And spent in empty air its dying force.
Not so Patroclus' never-erring dart;
Aimed at his breast, it pierced the mortal part,
Where the strong fibres bind the solid heart. ”

“ No longer now stand off from the Trojans, O noble Greeks, but on! let man advance against man, and let him be eager to engage. Difficult is it for me, although being valiant, to attack so many warriors, and to fight with them all. Not even Mars, who is an immortal god, nor yet Minerva, could charge and toil against the force of such a conflict. Yet whatever I can do with hands, with feet, and with strength, I declare that I will no longer be remiss, not ever so little; but I will go right through their line, nor do I think that any Trojan will rejoice, whoever may come near my javelin. ”

“ O'er all the gods, superior and alone.
There with her snowy hand the queen restrains
The fiery steeds, and thus to Jove complains:
⁠"O sire! can no resentment touch thy soul?
Can Mars rebel, and does no thunder roll?
What lawless rage on yon forbidden plain!
What rash destruction! and what heroes slain!
Venus, and Phœbus with the dreadful bow,
Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe.
Mad, furious Power! whose unrelenting mind
No god can govern, and no justice bind.
Say, mighty father! shall we scourge his pride,
And drive from fight the impetuous homicide?" ”

“ Desist, my friends, and permit me alone, grieved as I am, going out of the city, to approach the ships of the Greeks. I will supplicate this reckless, violent man, if perchance he may respect my time of life, and have compassion on my old age; for such is his father Peleus to him, he who begat and nurtured him a destruction to the Trojans; but particularly to me above all has he caused sorrows. For so many blooming youths has he slain to me, for all of whom I do not lament so much, although grieved, as for this one, Hector, keen grief for whom will bear me down even into Hades. ”

“ As when the stars shine clear, and the moon is bright—there is not a breath of air, not a peak nor glade nor jutting headland but it stands out in the ineffable radiance that breaks from the serene of heaven; the stars can all of them be told and the heart of the shepherd is glad—even thus shone the watchfires of the Trojans before Ilius midway between the ships and the river Xanthus. A thousand camp-fires gleamed upon the plain, and in the glow of each there sat fifty men, while the horses, champing oats and corn beside their chariots, waited till dawn should come. ”

“ In Troy deserted, as abhorred at home!"
⁠So spoke the fair, with sorrow-streaming eye:
Distressful beauty melts each stander-by;
On all around the infectious sorrow grows;
But Priam checked the torrent as it rose:
"Perform, ye Trojans, what the rites require,
And fell the forests for a funeral pyre!
Twelve days nor foes nor secret ambush dread;
Achilles grants these honours to the dead."
⁠He spoke; and at his word the Trojan train
Their mules and oxen harness to the wain,
Pour through the gates, and, felled from Ida's crown,
Roll back the gathered forests to the town. ”

“ The god, now distant scarce a stride before,
Tempts his pursuit, and wheels about the shore
While all the flying troops their speed employ,
And pour on heaps into the walls of Troy:
No stop, no stay : no thought to ask, or tell,
Who 'scaped by flight, or who by battle fell.
'Twas tumult all, and violence of flight;
And sudden joy confused, and mixed affright:
Pale Troy against Achilles shuts her gate;
And nations breathe, delivered from their fate. ”

“ These shafts, once fatal, carry death no more.
Tydeus' and Atreus' sons their points have found,
And undissembled gore pursued the wound.
In vain they bled: this unavailing bow
Serves not to slaughter, but provoke the foe.
In evil hour these bended horns I strung,
And seized the quiver where it idly hung.
Cursed be the fate that sent me to the field,
Without a warrior's arms, the spear and shield!
If e'er with life I quit the Trojan plain,
If e'er I see my spouse and sire again,
This bow, unfaithful to my glorious aims,
Broke by my hand, shall feed the blazing flames. ”

“ Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host,
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 heavenly Powers;
Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.
But grant the host with wealth the general load,
Except detraction, what hast thou bestowed?
Suppose some hero should his spoils resign,
Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore,
And let these eyes behold my son no more ”

“ But Priam called Helen,—"Coming hither before us, dear daughter, sit by me, that thou mayst see thy former husband, thy kindred, and thy friends— (thou art not at all in fault toward me; the gods, in truth, are in fault toward me, who have sent against me the lamentable war of the Greeks) —that thou mayest name for me this mighty man, who is this gallant and tall Grecian hero. Certainly there are others taller in height; but so graceful a man have I never yet beheld with my eyes, nor so venerable; for he is like unto a kingly man." ”

“ To whom its safety a whole people owes,
To waste long nights in indolent repose.
Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear,
Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care;
In just array draw forth the embattled train,
And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain;
E'en now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy
The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy;
For now no more the gods with fate contend,
At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end.
Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,
And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.
This hear observant, and the gods obey! ”

“ With which a wounded soldier touched his breast,
Whom in the chance of war a javelin tore,
And his sad comrades from the battle bore;
Him to the surgeons of the camp he sent;
That office paid, he issued from his tent,
Fierce for the fight: to him the god begun,
In Thoas' voice, Andræmon's valiant son,
Who ruled where Calydon's white rocks arise,
And Pleuron's chalky cliffs emblaze the skies:
⁠"Where's now the impetuous vaunt, the daring boast,
Of Greece victorious, and proud Ilion lost?"
⁠To whom the king: "On Greece no blame be thrown,
Arms are her trade, and war is all her own. ”