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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Some God hath been his guard, and Hector savâd, Whose arm hath slackâd the knees of many a Greek: So will he now; for not without the aid Of Jove, the Lord of thunder, doth he stand So boldly forth, so eager for the fight.
Hear, then, and all by my advice be rulâd: Back to the ships dismiss the genâral crowd; While of our army we, the foremost men, Stand fast, and meeting him with levellâd spears, Hold him in check; and he, though brave, may fear To throw himself amid our serried ranks.â
He said: they heard, and all obeyâd his words: The mighty Ajax, and Idomeneus
The King, and Teucer, and Meriones,
And Meges, bold as Mars, with all their best, Their stedfast battle rangâd, to wait thâ assault Of Hector and his Trojans; while behind, Thâ unwarlike many to the ships retirâd.
The Trojan mass came on, by Hector led With haughty stride; before him Phoebus went, His shoulders veilâd in cloud; his arm sustainâd The awful AEgis, dread to look on, hung With shaggy tassels round and dazzling bright; Which Vulcan, skilful workman, gave to Jove, To scatter terror âmid the souls of men.
This on his arm, the Trojan troops he led.
Firm stood the mass of Greeks; from either side Shrill clamours rose; and fast from many a string The arrows flew, and many a javâlin, hurlâd By vigârous arms; some buried in the flesh Of stalwart youths, and many, ere they reachâd Their living mark, fell midway on the plain, Fixâd in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.
While Phoebus motionless his AEgis held, Thick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell On either side; but when he turnâd its flash Full in the faces of the astonishâd Greeks, And shouted loud, their spirits within them quailâd, Their fiery courage borne in mind no more.
As when two beasts of prey, at dead of night.
With sudden onset scatter wide a herd
Of oxen, or a numârous flock of sheep, Their keepers absent; so unnervâd by fear The Greeks dispersâd; such panic âmid their ranks, That victâry so might crown the Trojan arms, Apollo sent; and as the masses broke,
Each Trojan slew his man; by Hectorâs hand Fell Stichius and Arcesilas; the one,
The leader of Boeotiaâs brass-clad host, The other, brave Menestheusâ trusted friend.
AEneas Medon slew, and Iasus;
Medon, the great Oileusâ bastard son,
Brother of Ajax; he in Phylace,
Far from his native home, was drivân to dwell; Since one to Eriopis near akin,
His sire Oileusâ wife, his hand had slain: And Iasus, thâ Athenian chief, was deemâd The son of Sphelus, son of Bucolus.
Polydamas amid the foremost ranks
Mecistes slew, Polites Echius,
Agenor Olonius; while from Parisâ hand An arrow, âmid the crowd of fugitives
Shot from behind, beneath the shoulder struck Deiocus, and through his chest was drivân: These while the Trojans of their arms despoilâd, Through ditch and palisades promiscuous dashâd The flying Greeks, and gainâd, hard-pressâd, the wall; While loudly Hector to the Trojans callâd To assail the ships, and leave the bloody spoils: âWhom I elsewhere, and from the ships aloof Shall find, my hand shall doom him on the spot; For him no funâral pyre his kin shall light, Or male or female; but before the wall Our cityâs dogs his mangled flesh shall tear.â
He said; and on his horsesâ shoulder point Let fall the lash, and loudly through the ranks Callâd on the Trojans; they, with answâring shout And noise unspeakable, urgâd on with him Their harnessâd steeds; Apollo, in the van, Trod down with ease thâ embankment of the ditch, And fillâd it in; and oâer it bridgâd a way Level and wide, far as a javâlinâs flight Hurlâd by an arm that proves its utmost strength.
Oâer this their columns passâd; Apollo bore His AEgis oâer them, and cast down the wall; Easy, as when a child upon the beach,
In wanton play, with hands and feet oâerthrows The mound of sand, which late in play he raisâd; So, Phoebus, thou, the Grecian toil and pains Confounding, sentest panic through their souls.
Thus hemmâd beside the ships they made their stand, While each exhorted each, and all, with hands Outstretchâd, to evâry God addressâd their prayâr: And chief, Gerenian Nestor, prop of Greece, With hands uplifted towârd the starry Heavân: âO Father Jove! if any eâer to Thee
On corn-clad plains of Argos burnt the fat Of bulls and sheep, and offerâd up his prayâr For safe return; and thine assenting nod Confirmâd thy promise; O remember now
His prayâr; stave off the pitiless day of doom, Nor let the Greeks to Trojan arms succumb.â
Thus Nestor prayâd; loud thunderâd from on high The Lord of counsel, as he heard the prayâr Of Neleusâ aged son; with double zeal, The Trojans, as the mind of Jove they knew, Pressâd on the Greeks, with warlike ardour firâd.
As oâer the bulwarks of a ship pour down The mighty billows of the wide-pathâd sea, Drivân by the blast, that tosses high the waves, So down the wall, with shouts, the Trojans pourâd; The cars admitted, by the ships they fought With double-pointed spears, and hand to hand; These on their chariots, on the lofty decks Of their dark vessels those, with pondârous spars Which on the ships were storâd for naval war, Compact and strong, their heads encasâd in brass.
While yet beyond the ships, about the wall The Greeks and Trojans fought, Patroclus still Within the tent of brave Eurypylus
Remaining, with his converse soothâd the chief, And healing unguents to his wound applied, Of powâr to charm away the bitter pains; But when the Trojans pouring oâer the wall, And routed Greeks in panic flight he saw, Deeply he groanâd, and smiting on his thigh With either palm, in anguish thus he spoke: âEurypylus, how great soeâer thy need, I can no longer stay; so fierce the storm Of battle rages; but thâ attendantsâ care Will all thy wants supply; while I in haste Achilles seek, and urge him to the war; Who knows but Heavân may grant me to succeed?
For great is oft a friendâs persuasive powâr.â
He said, and quickly on his errand sped.
Meanwhile the Greeks, in firm array, endurâd The onset of the Trojans; nor could these The assailants, though in numbers less, repel; Nor those again the Grecian masses break, And force their passage through the ships and tents, As by a rule, in cunning workmanâs hand, Who all his art by Pallasâ aid has learnt, A vesselâs plank is smooth and even laid, So level lay the balance of the fight.
Others round other ships maintainâd the war, But Hector that of Ajax sought alone.
For that one ship they two unwearied toilâd; Nor Hector Ajax from his post could move, And burn the ship with fire; nor he repel The foe who came protected by a God.
Then noble Ajax with his javâlin smote Caletor, son of Clytius, through the breast, As towârd the ship a blazing torch he bore; Thundâring he fell, and droppâd his hand the torch.
But Hector, when his eyes his kinsman saw By the dark vessel, prostrate in the dust, On Trojans and on Lycians callâd aloud: âTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, famâd In close encounter, in this press of war Slack not your efforts; haste to save the son Of Clytius, nor let Greeks his arms possess, Who âmid their throng of ships has nobly fallân.â
At Ajax, as he spoke, his gleaming spear He threw, but missâd his aim; yet Lycophron, His comrade, of Cythera, Mastorâs son
(Who flying from Cytheraâs lovely isle With guilt of bloodshed, near to Ajax dwelt), Standing beside the chief, above the ear He struck, and piercâd the brain: from the tall prow Backwards he fell, his limbs relaxâd in death.
Then Ajax, shuddâring, on his brother callâd: âGood Teucer, we have lost a faithful friend, The son of Mastor, our Cytheran guest, Whom as a father all reverâd; who now
Lies slain by noble Hector. Where are then Thine arrows, swift-wingâd messengers of fate, And where thy trusty bow, Apolloâs gift?â
Thus Ajax; Teucer heard, and ran in haste, And stood beside him, with his bended bow, And well-storâd quiver: on the Trojans fast He pourâd his shafts; and struck Pisenorâs son, Clitus, the comrade of Polydamas,
The noble son of Panthous; he the reins Held in his hand, and all his care bestowâd To guide his horses; for, whereâer the throng Was thickest, there in Hectorâs cause, and Troyâs, He still was found; but oâer him hung the doom Which none might turn aside; for from behind The fateful arrow struck him through the neck; Down from the car he fell; swerving aside, The startled horses whirlâd the empty car.
Them first the King Polydamas beheld,
And stayâd their course; to Protiaonâs son, Astynous, then he gave them, with command To keep good watch, and still be near at hand; Then âmid the foremost joinâd again the fray.
Again at Hector of the brazen helm
An arrow Teucer aimâd; and had the shaft The life of Hector quenchâd in mid career, Not long the fight had ragâd around the ships: But Joveâs all-seeing eye beheld, who watchâd Oâer Hectorâs life, and Teucerâs hopes deceivâd.
The bowâs well-twisted string he snappâd in twain, As Teucer drew; the brass-tippâd arrow flew Wide of the mark, and droppâd his hand the bow.
Then to his brother, all aghast, he cried: âO Heavân, some God our best-laid schemes of war Confounds, who from my hand hath, wrenchâd the bow, And snappâd the newly-twisted string, which I But late attachâd, my swift-wingâd shafts to bear.â
Whom answerâd thus great Ajax Telamon: âO friend, leave there thine arrows and thy bow, Marrâd by some God who grudges our renown; But take in hand thy pondârous spear, and cast Thy shield about thy shoulders, and thyself Stand forth, and urge the rest, to face the foe.
Let us not tamely yield, if yield we must, Our well-built ships, but nobly dare the fight.â
âThus Ajax spoke; and Teucer in the tent Bestowed his bow, and oâer his shoulders threw His fourfold shield; and on his firm-set head A helm he placâd, well-wrought, with horsehair plume, That nodded, fearful, oâer his brow; his hand Graspâd the firm spear, with sharpenâd point of brass: Then ran, and swiftly stood by Ajaxâ side.
Hector meanwhile, who saw the weapon marrâd, To Trojans and to Lycians callâd aloud: âTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans famâd In close encounter, quit ye now like men; Against the ships your wonted valour show.
Eâen now, before our eyes, hath Jove destroyâd A chieftainâs weapon. Easy âtis to trace Oâer human wars thâ oâerruling hand of Jove, To whom he gives the prize of victory, And whom, withholding aid, he minishes, As now the Greeks, while we his favour gain.
Pour then your force united on the ships; And if there be among you, who this day Shall meet his doom, by sword or arrow slain, Eâen let him die! a glorious death is his Who for his country falls; and dying, leaves Preservâd from danger, children, wife, and home, His heritage uninjurâd, when the Greeks Embarking hence shall take their homeward way.â
His words fresh courage rousâd in evâry breast.
Ajax, on thâ other side, addressâd the Greeks: âShame on ye, Greeks! this very hour decides If we must perish, or be savâd, and ward Destruction from our ships; and can ye hope That each, if Hector of the glancing helm Shall burn our ships, on foot can reach his home?
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