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
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Those two great Asiusâ charge, undaunted, met.
On thâ other side, with, shouts and wild uproar, Their bullâs-hide shields uplifted high, advancâd Against the well-built wall, Asius the King, Iamenus, Orestes, Acamas
The son of Asius, and OEnomaus,
And Thoon; those within to save the ships Calling meanwhile on all the well-greavâd Greeks; But when they saw the wall by Trojans scalâd, And heard the cry of Greeks in panic fear, Sprang forth those two, before the gates to fight.
As when two boars, upon the mountain side, Await thâ approaching din of men and dogs, Then sideways rushing, snap the wood around, Rippâd from the roots; loud clash their clattâring tusks, Till to the huntsmanâs spear they yield their lives; So clatterâd on those championsâ brass-clad breasts The hostile weapons; stubbornly they fought, Relying on their strength, and friends above: For from the well-built towârs huge stones were hurlâd By those who for themselves, their tents and ships, Maintainâd defensive warfare; thick they fell, As wintry snow-flakes, which the boistârous wind, Driving the shadowy clouds, spreads fast and close Oâer all the surface of the fertile earth: So thick, from Grecian and from Trojan hands, The weapons flew; on helm and bossy shield With grating sound the pondârous masses rang.
Then deeply groaning, as he smote his thigh Thus spoke dismayâd the son of Hyrtacus: âO Father Jove, how hast thou lovâd our hopes To falsify, who deemâd not that the Greeks Would stand our onset, and resistless arms!
But they, as yellow-banded wasps, or bees, That by some rocky pass have built their nests, Abandon not their cavernâd home, but wait Thâ attack, and boldly for their offspring fight; So from the gates these two, though two alone, Retire not, till they be or taâen or slain.â
He said: but Jove regarded not his words; So much on Hectorâs triumph he was bent.
Like battle ragâd round thâ other gates; but hard It were for me, with godlike powâr, to paint Each sevâral combat; for around the wall A more than human storm of stone was pourâd On evâry side; the Greeks, hard pressâd, perforce Fought for their ships, while all the Gods lookâd on Indignant, who the Grecian cause upheld.
Fiercely the Lapithae sustainâd the war: Stout Polypoetes first, Pirithousâ son, Smote, through the brass-cheekâd helmet, Damasus; Nor stayâd the brazen helm the spear, whose point Went crashing through the bone, that all the brain Was shatterâd; onward as he rushâd, he fell.
Then Pylon next, and Ormenus he slew:
Meantime Leonteus, scion true of Mars, Struck with unerring spear Hippomachus, Son of Antimachus, below the waist;
Then, drawing from the sheath his trenchant sword, Dashâd through the crowd, and hand to hand he smote Antiphates; he, backward, fell to earth.
Menon, Iamenus, Orestes next,
In quick succession to the ground he brought.
From these while they their glittâring armour strippâd, Round Hector throngâd, and bold Polydamas, The bravest and the best, who longâd the most To storm the wall, and burn with fire the ships.
Yet on the margin of the ditch they pausâd; For, as they sought to cross, a sign from Heavân Appearâd, to leftward of thâ astonishâd crowd; A soaring eagle in his talons bore
A dragon, huge of size, of blood-red hue, Alive, and breathing still, nor yet subdued; For twisting backward through the breast he piercâd His bearer, near the neck; he, stung with pain, Let fall his prey, which droppâd amid the crowd; Then screaming, on the blast was borne away.
The Trojans, shuddâring, in their midst beheld The spotted serpent, dire portent of Jove: Then to bold Hector thus Polydamas:
âHector, in council thou reprovâst me oft For good advice; it is not meet, thou sayâst, That private men should talk beside the mark, In council or in war, but study still
Thine honour to exalt; yet must I now
Declare what seems to me the wisest course: Let us not fight the Greeks beside their ships; For thus I read the future, if indeed
To us, about to cross, this sign from Heavân Was sent, to leftward of thâ astonishâd crowd: A soaring eagle, bearing in his claws
A dragon, huge of size, of blood-red hue, Alive; yet droppâd him ere he reachâd his home, Nor to his nestlings bore thâ intended prey: So we, eâen though our mighty strength should break The gates and wall, and put the Greeks to rout, By the same road not scatheless should return, But many a Trojan on the field should leave, Slain by the Greeks, while they their ships defend.
So would a seer, well versâd in augury, Worthy of public credit, read this sign.â
To whom thus Hector of the glancing helm Replied, with stern regard: âPolydamas, This speech of thine is alien to my soul: Thy better judgment better counsel knows.
But if in earnest such is thine advice, Thee of thy senses have the Gods bereft, Who fain wouldst have us disregard the word And promise by the nod of Jove confirmâd, And put our faith in birdsâ expanded wings; Little of these I reck, nor care to look, If to the right, and towârd the morning sun, Or to the left, and shades of night, they fly.
Put we our trust in Joveâs eternal will, Of mortals and Immortals King supreme.
The best of omens is our countryâs cause.
Why shouldst thou tremble at the battle strife?
Though evâry Trojan else were doomâd to die Beside the ships, no fear lest thou shouldst fall: Unwarlike is thy soul, nor firm of mood: But if thou shrink, or by thy craven words Turn back another Trojan from the fight, My spear shall take the forfeit of thy life.â
This said, he led the way; with joyous shouts They followâd all; then Jove, the lightningâs Lord, From Idaâs heights a storm of wind sent down, Driving the dust against the Grecian ships; Which quellâd their courage, and to Hector gave, And to the Trojans, fresh incitement; they, On their own strength, and heavânly signs relying, Their force addressâd to storm the Grecian wall.
They razâd the counterscarp, the battlements Destroyâd; and the projecting buttresses, Which, to sustain the towârs, the Greeks had fixâd Deep in the soil, with levers underminâd.
These once withdrawn, they hopâd to storm the wall; Nor from the passage yet the Greeks withdrew, But closely fencing with their bullâs-hide shields The broken battlements, they thence hurlâd down A storm of weapons on the foe beneath.
Commanding from the towâr in evâry place Were seen thâ Ajaces, urging to the fight, Imploring these, and those in sterner tones Rebuking, who their warlike toil relaxâd.
âFriends, Grecians all, ye who excel in war, And ye of modârate or inferior strength, Though all are not with equal powârs endued, Yet here is work for all! bear this in mind, Nor towârd the ships let any turn his face, By threats dismayâd; but forward press, and each Encourage each, if so the lightningâs Lord, Olympian Jove, may grant us to repel,
And backward to his city chase the foe.â
Thus they, with cheering words, sustainâd the war: Thick as the snow-flakes on a wintry day, When Jove, the Lord of counsel, down on men His snow-storm sends, and manifests his powâr: Hushâd are the winds; the flakes continuous fall, That the high mountain tops, and jutting crags, And lotus-coverâd meads are buried deep, And manâs productive labours of the field; On hoary Oceanâs beach and bays they lie, Thâ approaching waves their bound; oâer all beside Is spread by Jove the heavy veil of snow.
So thickly new the stones from either side, By Greeks on Trojans hurlâd, by these on Greeks; And clatterâd loud through all its length the wall.
Nor yet the Trojans, though by Hector led, The gates had broken, and the massive bar, But Jove against the Greeks sent forth his son Sarpedon, as a lion on a herd:
His shieldâs broad orb before his breast he bore, Well-wrought, of beaten brass, which thâ armârerâs hand Had beaten out, and linâd with stout bullâs-hide; With golden rods, continuous, all around; He thus equippâd, two javâlins brandishing, Strode onward, as a lion, mountain-bred, Whom, fasting long, his dauntless courage leads To assail the flock, though in well-guarded fold; And though the shepherds there he find, preparâd With dogs and lances to protect the sheep, Not unattempted will he leave the fold; But, springing to the midst, he bears his prey In triumph thence; or in the onset falls, Wounded by javâlins hurlâd by stalwart hands: So, prompted by his godlike courage, burnâd Sarpedon to assail the lofty wall,
And storm the ramparts; and to Glaucus thus, Son of Hippolochus, his speech addressâd: âWhence is it, Glaucus, that in Lycian land We two at feasts the foremost seats may claim, The largest portions, and the fullest cups?
Why held as Gods in honour? why endowâd With ample heritage, by Xanthusâ banks, Of vineyard, and of wheat producing land?
Then by the Lycians should we not be seen The foremost to affront the raging fight?
So may our well-armâd Lycians make their boast; âTo no inglorious Kings we Lycians owe Allegiance; they on richest viands feed; Of luscious flavour drink the choicest wine; But still their valour brightest shows; and they, Where Lycians war, are foremost in the fight!â
O friend! if we, survivors of this war, Could live, from age and death for ever free, Thou shouldst not see me foremost in the fight, Nor would I urge thee to the glorious field: But since on man ten thousand forms of death Attend, which none may âscape, then on, that we May glory on others gain, or they on us!â
Thus he; nor Glaucus from his bidding shrank; And forward straight they led the Lycian powârs.
Menestheus, son of Peteus, with dismay Observâd their movement; for on his command, Inspiring terror, their attack was made.
He lookâd around him to the Grecian towârs, If any chief might there be found, to save His comrades from destruction; there he saw, Of war insatiable, thâ Ajaces twain;
And Teucer, from the tent but newly come, Hard by; nor yet could reach them with his voice; Such was the din, such tumult rose to Heavân, From clattâring shields, and horsehair-crested helms, And batterâd gates, now all at once assailâd: Before them fiercely strove thâ assaulting bands To break their way: he then Thootes sent, His herald, to thâ Ajaces, craving aid.
âHaste thee, Thootes, on thâ Ajaces call, Both, if it may be; so we best may hope To âscape the death, which else is near at hand; So fierce the pressure of the Lycian chiefs, Undaunted now, as ever, in the fight.
But if they too are hardly pressâd, at least Let Ajax, son of Telamon, be sparâd,
And with him Teucer, skilled to draw the bow.â
He said; the herald heard, and straight obeyâd; Along the wall, where stood the brass-clad Greeks, He ran, and standing near thâ Ajaces, said: âAjaces, leaders of the brass-clad Greeks, The son of Heavân-born Peteus craves your aid.
To share awhile the labours of his guard; Both, if it may be; so he best may hope To âscape the death, which else is near at hand: So fierce the pressure of the Lycian chiefs, Undaunted now, as ever, in the fight.
But if ye too are hardly pressâd, at least Let Ajax, son of Telamon, be sparâd,
And with him Teucer, skillâd to draw the bow.â
He said: the mighty son of Telamon
Consenting, thus addresssâd Oileusâ son: âAjax, do thou and valiant
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