The Iliad by Homer (ebooks children's books free TXT) đ
Some other spoil? no common fund have we
Of hoarded treasures; what our arms have won
From captur'd towns, has been already shar'd,
Nor can we now resume th' apportion'd spoil.
Restore the maid, obedient to the God!
And if Heav'n will that we the strong-built walls
Of Troy should raze, our warriors will to thee
A threefold, fourfold recompense assign."
To whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:
"Think not, Achilles, valiant though thou art
In fight, and godlike, to defraud me thus;
Thou shalt not so persuade me, nor o'erreach.
Think'st thou to keep thy portion of the spoil,
While I with empty hands sit humbly down?
The bright-ey'd girl thou bidd'st me to restore;
If then the valiant Greeks for me seek out
Some other spoil, some compensation just,
'Tis well: if not, I with my own right hand
Will from some other chief, from thee perchance,
Or Ajax, or Ulysses, wrest his prey;
And woe to him, on whomsoe'er I call
Read free book «The Iliad by Homer (ebooks children's books free TXT) đ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Homer
- Performer: -
Read book online «The Iliad by Homer (ebooks children's books free TXT) đ». Author - Homer
Before the face of Jove! a mighty oath!
The time shall come, when all the sons of Greece Shall mourn Achillesâ loss; and thou the while, Heart-rent, shalt be all-impotent to aid, When by the warrior-slayer Hectorâs hand Many shall fall; and then thy soul shall mourn The slight on Greciaâs bravest warrior cast.â
Thus spoke Pelides; and upon the ground He cast his staff, with golden studs embossâd, And took his seat; on thâ other side, in wrath, Atrides burnâd; but Nestor interposâd; Nestor, the leader of the Pylian host, The smooth-tongued chief, from whose persuasive lips Sweeter than honey flowed the stream of speech.
Two generations of the sons of men
For him were past and gone, who with himself Were born and bred on Pylosâ lovely shore, And oâer the third he now held royal sway.
He thus with prudent words the chiefs addressâd: âAlas, alas! what grief is this for Greece!
What joy for Priam, and for Priamâs sons!
What exultation for the men of Troy,
To hear of feuds âtween you, of all the Greeks The first in council, and the first in fight!
Yet, hear my words, I pray; in years, at least, Ye both must yield to me; and in times past I livâd with men, and they despisâd me not, Abler in counsel, greater than yourselves.
Such men I never saw, and neâer shall see, As Pirithous and Dryas, wise and brave, Coeneus, Exadius, godlike Polypheme,
And Theseus, AEgeusâ more than mortal son.
The mightiest they among the sons of men; The mightiest they, and of the forest beasts Strove with the mightiest, and their rage subdued.
With them from distant lands, from Pylosâ shore I joinâd my forces, and their call obeyâd; With them I playâd my part; with them, not one Would dare to fight of mortals now on earth.
Yet they my counsels heard, my voice obeyâd; And hear ye also, for my words are wise.
Nor thou, though great thou be, attempt to rob Achilles of his prize, but let him keep The spoil assignâd him by the sons of Greece; Nor thou, Pelides, with the monarch strive In rivalry; for neâer to sceptred King Hath Jove such powârs, as to Atrides, givân; And valiant though thou art, and Goddess-born, Yet mightier he, for wider is his sway.
Atrides, curb thy wrath! while I beseech Achilles to forbear; in whom the Greeks From adverse war their great defender see.â
To whom the monarch, Agamemnon, thus:
âO father, full of wisdom are thy words; But this proud chief oâer all would domineer; Oâer all he seeks to rule, oâer all to reign, To all to dictate; which I will not bear.
Grant that the Gods have givân him warlike might, Gave they unbridled license to his tongue?â
To whom Achilles, interrupting, thus:
âCoward and slave indeed I might be deemâd.
Could I submit to make thy word my law; To others thy commands; seek not to me To dictate, for I follow thee no more.
But hear me speak, and ponder what I say: For the fair girl I fight not (since you choose To take away the prize yourselves bestowâd) With thee or any one; but of the rest
My dark swift ship contains, against my will On nought shalt thou, unpunishâd, lay thy hand.
Make trial if thou wilt, that these may know; Thy life-blood soon should reek upon my spear.â
After this conflict keen of angry speech, The chiefs arose, the assembly was dispersâd.
With his own followers, and Menoetiusâ son, Achilles to his tents and ships withdrew.
But Atreusâ son launchâd a swift-sailing bark, With twenty rowers mannâd, and placâd on board The sacred hecatomb; then last embarkâd The fair Chryseis, and in chief command Laertesâ son, the sage Ulysses, placâd.
They swiftly sped along the watâry way.
Next, proclamation through the camp was made To purify the host; and in the sea,
Obedient to the word, they purified;
Then to Apollo solemn rites performâd
With faultless hecatombs of bulls and goats, Upon the margin of the watâry waste;
And, wreathâd in smoke, the savour rose to Heavân.
The camp thus occupied, the King pursued His threatenâd plan of vengeance; to his side Calling Talthybius and Eurybates,
Heralds, and faithful followers, thus he spoke: âHaste to Achillesâ tent, and in your hand Back with you thence the fair Briseis bring: If he refuse to send her, I myself
With a sufficient force will bear her thence, Which he may find, perchance, the worse for him.â
So spake the monarch, and with stern command Dismissâd them; with reluctant steps they passâd Along the margin of the watâry waste,
Till to the tents and ships they came, where lay The warlike Myrmidons. Their chief they found Sitting beside his tent and dark-ribbâd ship.
Achilles markâd their coming, not well pleasâd: With troubled mien, and awestruck by the King, They stood, nor darâd accost him; but himself Divinâd their errand, and addressâd them thus: âWelcome, ye messengers of Gods and men, Heralds! approach in safety; not with you, But with Atrides, is my just offence,
Who for the fair Briseis sends you here.
Go, then, Patroclus, bring the maiden forth, And give her to their hands; but witness ye, Before the blessed Gods and mortal men, And to the face of that injurious King, When he shall need my arm, from shameful rout To save his followers; blinded by his rage, He neither heeds experience of the past Nor scans the future, provident how best To guard his fleet and army from the foe.â
He spoke: obedient to his friend and chief, Patroclus led the fair Briseis forth,
And gave her to their hands; they to the ships Retracâd their steps, and with them the fair girl Reluctant went: meanwhile Achilles, plungâd In bitter grief, from all the band apart, Upon the margin of the hoary sea
Sat idly gazing on the dark-blue waves; And to his Goddess-mother long he prayâd, With outstretchâd hands, âOh, mother! since thy son To early death by destiny is doomâd,
I might have hopâd the Thunderer on high, Olympian Jove, with honour would have crownâd My little space; but now disgrace is mine; Since Agamemnon, the wide-ruling King, Hath wrested from me, and still holds, my prize.â
Weeping, he spoke; his Goddess-mother heard, Beside her aged father where she sat
In the deep ocean-caves: ascending quick Through the dark waves, like to a misty cloud, Beside her son she stood; and as he wept, She gently touchâd him with her hand, and said, âWhy weeps my son? and whence his cause of grief?
Speak out, that I may hear, and share thy pain.â
To whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied, Groaning, âThou knowâst; what boots to tell thee all?
On Thebes we marchâd, Eetionâs sacred town, And stormâd the walls, and hither bore the spoil.
The spoils were fairly by the sons of Greece Apportionâd out; and to Atridesâ share The beauteous daughter of old Chryses fell.
Chryses, Apolloâs priest, to free his child, Came to thâ encampment of the brass-clad Greeks, With costly ransom chargâd; and in his hand The sacred fillet of his God he bore,
And golden staff; to all he sued, but chief To Atreusâ sons, twin captains of the host.
Then through the ranks assenting murmurs ran, The priest to revârence, and the ransom take: Not so Atrides; he, with haughty mien
And bitter words, the trembling sire dismissâd.
The old man turnâd in sorrow; but his prayâr Phoebus Apollo heard, who lovâd him well.
Against the Greeks he bent his fatal bow, And fast the people fell; on evâry side Throughout the camp the heavânly arrows flew; A skilful seer at length the cause revealâd Why thus incensâd the Archer-God; I then, The first, gave counsel to appease his wrath.
Whereat Atrides, full of fury, rose,
And utterâd threats, which he hath now fulfillâd.
For Chrysesâ daughter to her native land In a swift-sailing ship the keen-eyâd Greeks Have sent, with costly offârings to the God: But her, assignâd me by the sons of Greece, Brisesâ fair daughter, from my tent eâen now The heralds bear away. Then, Goddess, thou, If thou hast powâr, protect thine injurâd son.
Fly to Olympus, to the feet of Jove,
And make thy prayâr to him, if on his heart Thou hast in truth, by word or deed, a claim.
For I remember, in my fatherâs house,
I oft have heard thee boast, how thou, alone Of all thâ Immortals, Saturnâs cloud-girt son Didst shield from foul disgrace, when all the rest, Juno, and Neptune, and Minerva joinâd, With chains to bind him; then, O Goddess, thou Didst set him free, invoking to his aid Him of the hundred arms, whom Briareus Thâ immortal Gods, and men AEgeon call.
He, mightier than his father, took his seat By Saturnâs side, in pride of conscious strength: Fear seizâd on all the Gods, nor did they dare To bind their King: of this remind him now, And clasp his knees, and supplicate his aid For Troyâs brave warriors, that the routed Greeks Back to their ships with slaughter may be drivân; That all may taste the folly of their King, And Agamemnonâs haughty self may mourn The slight on Greciaâs bravest warrior cast.â
Thus he; and Thetis, weeping, thus replied: âAlas, my child, that eâer I gave thee birth!
Would that beside thy ships thou couldâst remain From grief exempt, and insult! since by fate Few years are thine, and not a lengthened term; At once to early death and sorrows doomâd Beyond the lot of man! in evil hour
I gave thee birth! But to the snow-clad heights Of great Olympus, to the throne of Jove, Who wields the thunder, thy complaints I bear.
Thou by thy ships, meanwhile, against the Greeks Thine anger nurse, and from the fight abstain.
For Jove is to a solemn banquet gone
Beyond the sea, on AEthiopiaâs shore,
Since yesternight; and with him all the Gods.
On the twelfth day he purposâd to return To high Olympus; thither then will I,
And to his feet my supplication make;
And he, I think, will not deny my suit.â
This said, she disappearâd; and left him there Musing in anger on the lovely form
Tom from his arms by violence away.
Meantime, Ulysses, with his sacred freight, Arrivâd at Chrysaâs strand; and when his bark Had reachâd the shelter of the deep sea bay, Their sails they furlâd, and lowerâd to the hold; Slackâd the retaining shrouds, and quickly struck And stowâd away the mast; then with their sweeps Pullâd for the beach, and cast their anchors out, And made her fast with cables to the shore.
Then on the shingly breakwater themselves They landed, and the sacred hecatomb
To great Apollo; and Chryseis last.
Her to the altar straight Ulysses led, The wise in counsel; in her fatherâs hand He placâd the maiden, and addressâd him thus: âChryses, from Agamemnon, King of men, To thee I come, thy daughter to restore; And to thy God, upon the Greeksâ behalf, To offer sacrifice, if haply so
We may appease his wrath, who now incensâd With grievous suffâring visits all our host.â
Then to her sire he gave her; he with joy Receivâd his child; the sacred hecatomb Around the well-built altar for the God In order due they placâd; their hands then washed, And the salt cake preparâd, before them all With hands uplifted Chryses prayâd aloud: âHear me, God of the silver bow! whose care Chrysa surrounds, and Cillaâs lovely vale, Whose sovâreign sway oâer Tenedos extends!
Once hast thou heard my prayâr, avengâd my cause, And pourâd thy fury on the Grecian host.
Hear yet again, and grant what now I ask; Withdraw thy chastâning hand, and stay
Comments (0)