The Iliad by Homer (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📕

Even there the hindmost of the rear I slay, And the same arm that led concludes the day; Then back to Pyle triumphant take my way.

There to high Jove were public thanks assign’d, As first of gods; to Nestor, of mankind.

Such then I was, impell’d by youthful blood; So proved my valour for my country’s good.

“Achilles with unactive fury glows,

And gives to passion what to Greece he owes.

How shall he grieve, when to the eternal shade Her hosts shall sink, nor his the power to aid!

0 friend! my memory recalls the day,

When, gathering aids along the Grecian sea, I, and Ulysses, touch’d at Phthia’s port, And entered Peleus’ hospitable court.

A bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice,

And pour’d libations on the flaming thighs.

Thyself, Achilles, and thy reverend sire Menoetius, turn’d the fragments on the fire.

Achilles sees us, to the feast invites; Social we sit, and share the genial rites.

We then explained the cause on which we came, Urged you to arms, and found you fierce for fame.

Your ancient fathers generous precepts gave; Peleus said only this:—‘My son! be brave.’

Menoetius thus: ‘Though great Achilles shine In strength superior, and of race divine, Yet cooler thoughts thy elder years attend; Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend.’

Thus spoke your father at Thessalia’s court: Words now forgot, though now of vast import.

Ah! try the utmost that a friend can say: Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey; Some favouring god Achilles’ heart may move; Though deaf to glory, he may yield to love.

If some dire oracle his breast alarm,

If aught from Heaven withhold his saving arm, Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine, If thou but lead the Myrmidonian line;

Clad in Achilles’ arms, if thou appear, Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from war; Press’d by fresh forces, her o’erlabour’d train Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again.”

This touch’d his generous heart, and from the tent Along the shore with hasty strides he went; Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand, The public mart and courts of justice stand, Where the tall fleet of great Ulysses lies, And altars to the guardian gods arise;

There, sad, he met the brave Euaemon’s son, Large painful drops from all his members run; An arrow’s head yet rooted in his wound, The sable blood in circles mark’d the ground.

As faintly reeling he confess’d the smart, Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart.

Divine compassion touch’d Patroclus’ breast, Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend address’d: “Ah, hapless leaders of the Grecian host!

Thus must ye perish on a barbarous coast?

Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore, Far from your friends, and from your native shore?

Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand?

Resists she yet the raging Hector’s hand?

Or are her heroes doom’d to die with shame, And this the period of our wars and fame?”

Eurypylus replies: “No more, my friend; Greece is no more! this day her glories end; Even to the ships victorious Troy pursues, Her force increasing as her toil renews.

Those chiefs, that used her utmost rage to meet, Lie pierced with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet.

But, thou, Patroclus! act a friendly part, Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly dart; With lukewarm water wash the gore away; With healing balms the raging smart allay, Such as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy,

Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.

Of two famed surgeons, Podalirius stands This hour surrounded by the Trojan bands; And great Machaon, wounded in his tent, Now wants that succour which so oft he lent.”

To him the chief: “What then remains to do?

The event of things the gods alone can view.

Charged by Achilles’ great command I fly, And bear with haste the Pylian king’s reply: But thy distress this instant claims relief.”

He said, and in his arms upheld the chief.

The slaves their master’s slow approach survey’d, And hides of oxen on the floor display’d: There stretch’d at length the wounded hero lay; Patroclus cut the forky steel away:

Then in his hands a bitter root he bruised; The wound he wash’d, the styptic juice infused.

The closing flesh that instant ceased to glow, The wound to torture, and the blood to flow.

{Illustration: HERCULES.}

BOOK XII.

ARGUMENT.

THE BATTLE AT THE GRECIAN WALL.

The Greeks having retired into their intrenchments, Hector attempts to force them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas advises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The Trojans follow his counsel; and having divided their army into five bodies of foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of an eagle with a serpent in his talons, which appeared on the left hand of the Trojans, Polydamas endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector opposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many actions, Sarpedon makes the first breach in the wall. Hector also, casting a stone of vast size, forces open one of the gates, and enters at the head of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their ships.

While thus the hero’s pious cares attend The cure and safety of his wounded friend, Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engage, And mutual deaths are dealt with mutual rage.

Nor long the trench or lofty walls oppose; With gods averse the ill-fated works arose; Their powers neglected, and no victim slain, The walls were raised, the trenches sunk in vain.

Without the gods, how short a period stands The proudest monument of mortal hands!

This stood while Hector and Achilles raged.

While sacred Troy the warring hosts engaged; But when her sons were slain, her city burn’d, And what survived of Greece to Greece return’d; Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore, Then Ida’s summits pour’d their watery store; Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their rills, Caresus roaring down the stony hills,

AEsepus, Granicus, with mingled force,

And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful source; And gulfy Simois, rolling to the main [184]

Helmets, and shields, and godlike heroes slain: These, turn’d by Phoebus from their wonted ways, Deluged the rampire nine continual days; The weight of waters saps the yielding wall, And to the sea the floating bulwarks fall.

Incessant cataracts the Thunderer pours, And half the skies descend in sluicy showers.

The god of ocean, marching stern before, With his huge trident wounds the trembling shore, Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves, And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves.

Now smooth’d with sand, and levell’d by the flood, No fragment tells where once the wonder stood; In their old bounds the rivers roll again, Shine ‘twixt the hills, or wander o’er the plain. [185]

But this the gods in later times perform; As yet the bulwark stood, and braved the storm; The strokes yet echoed of contending powers; War thunder’d at the gates, and blood distain’d the towers.

Smote by the arm of Jove with dire dismay, Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay: Hector’s approach in every wind they hear, And Hector’s fury every moment fear.

He, like a whirlwind, toss’d the scattering throng, Mingled the troops, and drove the field along.

So ‘midst the dogs and hunters’ daring bands, Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands; Arm’d foes around a dreadful circle form, And hissing javelins rain an iron storm: His powers untamed, their bold assault defy, And where he turns the rout disperse or die: He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all, And if he falls, his courage makes him fall.

With equal rage encompass’d Hector glows; Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows.

The panting steeds impatient fury breathe, And snort and tremble at the gulf beneath; Just at the brink they neigh, and paw the ground, And the turf trembles, and the skies resound.

Eager they view’d the prospect dark and deep, Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep; The bottom bare, (a formidable show!)

And bristled thick with sharpen’d stakes below.

The foot alone this strong defence could force, And try the pass impervious to the horse.

This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave,

Restrain’d great Hector, and this counsel gave: “O thou, bold leader of the Trojan bands!

And you, confederate chiefs from foreign lands!

What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find, The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind?

No pass through those, without a thousand wounds, No space for combat in yon narrow bounds.

Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown, On certain dangers we too rashly run:

If ‘tis will our haughty foes to tame,

Oh may this instant end the Grecian name!

Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall, And one great day destroy and bury all!

But should they turn, and here oppress our train, What hopes, what methods of retreat remain?

Wedged in the trench, by our own troops confused, In one promiscuous carnage crush’d and bruised, All Troy must perish, if their arms prevail, Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale.

Hear then, ye warriors! and obey with speed; Back from the trenches let your steeds be led; Then all alighting, wedged in firm array, Proceed on foot, and Hector lead the way.

So Greece shall stoop before our conquering power, And this (if Jove consent) her fatal hour.”

{Illustration: POLYDAMAS ADVISING HECTOR.}

This counsel pleased: the godlike Hector sprung Swift from his seat; his clanging armour rung.

The chief’s example follow’d by his train, Each quits his car, and issues on the plain, By orders strict the charioteers enjoin’d Compel the coursers to their ranks behind.

The forces part in five distinguish’d bands, And all obey their several chiefs’ commands.

The best and bravest in the first conspire, Pant for the fight, and threat the fleet with fire: Great Hector glorious in the van of these, Polydamas, and brave Cebriones.

Before the next the graceful Paris shines, And bold Alcathous, and Agenor joins.

The sons of Priam with the third appear, Deiphobus, and Helenas the seer;

In arms with these the mighty Asius stood, Who drew from Hyrtacus his noble blood, And whom Arisba’s yellow coursers bore, The coursers fed on Selle’s winding shore.

Antenor’s sons the fourth battalion guide, And great AEneas, born on fountful Ide.

Divine Sarpedon the last band obey’d,

Whom Glaucus and Asteropaeus aid.

Next him, the bravest, at their army’s head, But he more brave than all the hosts he led.

Now with compacted shields in close array, The moving legions speed their headlong way: Already in their hopes they fire the fleet, And see the Grecians gasping at their feet.

While every Trojan thus, and every aid, The advice of wise Polydamas obey’d,

Asius alone, confiding in his car,

His vaunted coursers urged to meet the war.

Unhappy hero! and advised in vain;

Those wheels returning ne’er shall mark the plain; No more those coursers with triumphant joy Restore their master to the gates of Troy!

Black death attends behind the Grecian wall, And great Idomeneus shall boast thy fall!

Fierce to the left he drives, where from the plain The flying Grecians strove their ships to gain; Swift through the wall their horse and chariots pass’d, The gates half-open’d to receive the last.

Thither, exulting in his force, he flies: His following host with clamours rend the skies: To plunge the Grecians headlong in the main, Such their proud hopes; but all their hopes were vain!

To guard the gates, two mighty chiefs attend, Who from the Lapiths’ warlike race descend; This Polypoetes, great Perithous’ heir, And