The Iliad by Homer (book club recommendations txt) 📕

Trojan hands, they made a halt
Before their ships, and bade each other stand,
And lifted up their hands and prayed aloud as
To all the gods; while Hector, urging on
His long-maned steeds, and with stern eyes that seemed
The eyes of Gorgon or of murderous Mars,
Hither and thither swept across the field.

The white-armed Juno saw, and, sorrowing,
Addressed Minerva with these wingèd words:⁠—
“Ah me! Thou daughter of the God who bears
The aegis, shall we not descend to aid
The perishing Greeks in their extremity?
A cruel doom is theirs, to fall, destroyed
By one man’s rage⁠—the terrible assault
Of Hector, son of Priam, who has made
Insufferable havoc in the field.”

And thus in turn the blue-eyed Pallas spake:⁠—
“That warrior long ere this had lost his life,
Slain by the Greeks on his paternal soil,
But that my father’s mind is warped by wrath.
Unjust to me and harsh, he thwarts my aims,
Forgetting all I did for Hercules,
His son⁠—how often, when Eurystheus set
A task too hard for him, I saved his life.
To heaven he raised his eyes and wept, and Jove
Despatched me instantly to succor him.
And yet if I, in my forecasting mind,
Had known all this when he was bid to bring
From strong-walled Erebus the dog of hell,
He had not safely crossed the gulf of Styx.
But now Jove hates me; now he grants the wish
Of Thetis, who hath kissed his knees and touched
His beard caressingly, and prayed that he
Would crown the overthrower of walled towns,
Achilles, with great honor. Well, the time
Will come when he shall call me yet again
His dear Minerva. Hasten now to yoke
For us thy firm-paced steeds, while in the halls
Of aegis-bearing Jupiter I brace
My armor on for war⁠—and I shall see
If Hector of the beamy helm, the son
Of Priam, will rejoice when we appear
Upon the field again. Assuredly
The men of Troy shall die, to feast the birds
Of prey and dogs beside the Grecian fleet.”

She ended, and the white-armed deity
Juno obeyed her. Juno the august,
The mighty Saturn’s daughter, hastily
Caparisoned the golden-bitted steeds.
Meanwhile, Minerva on the palace-floor
Of Jupiter let drop the gorgeous robe
Of many hues, which her own hands had wrought,
And, putting on the Cloud-compeller’s mail,
Stood armed for cruel war. And then she climbed
The glorious car, and took in hand the spear⁠—
Huge, heavy, strong⁠—with which she overthrows
The serried phalanxes of valiant men
Whene’er this daughter of the Almighty One
Is angered. Juno bore the lash, and urged
The coursers to their speed. The gates of heaven
Opened before them of their own accord⁠—
Gates guarded by the Hours, on whom the care
Of the great heaven and of Olympus rests,
To open or to close the wall of cloud.
Through these they guided their impatient steeds.

From Ida Jupiter beheld, in wrath,
And summoned Iris of the golden wings,
And bade her do this errand: “Speed thee hence,
Fleet Iris! Turn them back; allow them not
Thus to defy me: it is not for them
To engage with me in war. I give my word⁠—
Nor shall it lack fulfilment⁠—I will make
The swift steeds lame that draw their car, and hurl
The riders down, and dash the car itself
To fragments. Ten long years shall wear away
Before they cease to suffer from the wounds
Made by the thunderbolt. Minerva thus
May learn the fate of those who strive with Jove.
With Juno I am less displeased, for she
Is ever bent to thwart my purposes.”

He spake; and Iris, with the tempest’s speed
Departing, bore the message from the heights
Of Ida to the great Olympus, where,
Among the foremost passes of the mount,
All seamed with hollow vales, she met and stayed
The pair, delivering thus the word of Jove:⁠—

“Now whither haste ye? What strange madness fires
Your breasts? The son of Saturn suffers not
That ye befriend the Greeks. He threatens thus⁠—
And will fulfil his threat⁠—that he will make
The coursers lame that draw your car, and hurl
The riders down, and dash the car itself
To fragments, and that ten long years must pass
Ere ye shall cease to suffer from the wounds
Made by the thunderbolt. So shalt thou learn,
O Pallas! what it is to strive with Jove.
With Juno is he less displeased, for she
Is ever bent to thwart his purposes;
But thou, he says, art guilty above all,
And shameless as a hound, if thou dare lift
Thy massive spear against thy father Jove.”

So spake fleet-footed Iris, and withdrew;
And thus again to Pallas Juno said:⁠—

“Child of the Aegis-bearer! Let us strive
With Jove no longer for the sake of men,
But let one perish and another live,
As chance may rule the hour, and let the God,
Communing with his secret mind, mete out
To Greeks and Trojans their just destiny.”

She spake, and turned the firm-paced coursers back,
The coursers with fair-flowing manes. The Hours
Unyoked them, bound them to the ambrosial stalls,
And leaned against the shining walls the car;
While Juno and Minerva went among
The other deities and took their place
Upon their golden seats, though sad at heart.
Then with his steeds, and in his bright-wheeled car,
Came Jove from Ida to the dwelling-place
Of gods upon Olympus. There did he
Who shakes the islands loose the steeds and bring
The chariot to its place, and o’er it spread
Its covering of lawn. The Thunderer
Seated himself upon his golden throne,
The great Olympus trembling as he stepped;
While Juno and Minerva sat apart
Together, nor saluted him, nor asked
Of aught; but he perceived their thoughts and said:⁠—

“Juno and Pallas! Why so sad? Not long
Ye toiled in glorious battle to destroy
The Trojans, whom ye hold in bitter hate:
This strength of mine, and this invincible arm
Not all the gods upon the Olympian mount
Can turn to flight, while your fair limbs were seized
With trembling ere ye entered on the shock
And havoc of the war. Now let me say⁠—
And well the event would have fulfilled my words⁠—
That, smitten with the thunder from my hand,
Your chariots never would have brought you back
To this Olympus and the abode of gods.”

He spake; while Pallas and the queen of heaven
Repined with close-pressed lips, and in their hearts
Devised new mischiefs for the Trojan race.
Silent Minerva sat, nor dared express as
The anger that she bore her father Jove;
But Juno could not curb her wrath, and spake:⁠—

“What words, austere Saturnius, hast thou said?
Thou art, we know, invincible in might;
Yet must we sorrow for the heroic Greeks,
Who, by a cruel fate, are