Complete Works of Homer Page 8

  That, lower than great Atreus' son, seems by the head to me,

  Yet in his shoulders and big breast, presents a broader show?

  His armour lies upon the earth; he up and down doth go

  To see his' soldiers keep their ranks, and ready have their arms,

  If, in this truce, they should be tried by any false alarms.

  Much like a well-grown bell-wether, or feltred ram, he shows,

  That walks before a wealthy flock of fair white-fleeced ewes."

  High Jove and Leda's fairest seed to Priam thus replies :

  “This is the old Laertes' son, Ulysses, called the wise; I

  Who, though unfruitful Ithaca was made his nursing seat,

  Yet knows he every sort of sleight, and is in counsels great."

  The wise Antenor answered her : " 'Tis true, renowned dame,

  For some times past, wise Ithacus to Troy a legate came,

  With Menelaus for your cause; to whom I gave receipt

  As guests, and welcorred to my house with all the love I might.

  I learned the wisdoms of their souls, and humours of their blood;

  For when the Trojan council met and these together stood,

  By height of his broad shoulders had Atrides eminence,

  Yet, set, Ulysses did exceed, and bred more reverence.

  And when their counsels and their words they wove in one, the speech

  Of Atreus' son was passing loud, small, fast, yet did not reach

  Too much, being naturally born Laconical, nor would

  His humour lie for anything, or was, like th' other, old;

  But when the prudent Ithacus did to his counsels rise,

  He stood a little still, and fixed upon the earth his eyes,

  His sceptre moving neither way, but held it formally,

  Like one that vainly doth affect. Of wrathful quality,

  And frantic (rashly judging him) you would have said he was;

  But when out of his ample breast he gave his great voice pass,

  And words that flew about our ears like drifts of winter's snow,

  None thenceforth might contend with him, though nought admired for show."

  The third man, aged Priam marked, was Ajax Telamon,

  Of whom he asked : " What lord is that, so large of limb and bone,

  So raised in height, that to his breast I see there reacheth none?"

  To him the Goddess of her sex, the large-veiled Helen, said :

  “That lord is Ajax Telamon, a bulwark in their aid.

  On th' other side stands Idomen, in Crete of most command,

  And round about his royal side his Cretan captains stand;

  Oft hath the warlike Spartan king given hospitable due

  To him within our Lacene court, and all his retinue.

  And now the other Achive dukes I generally discern;

  All which I know, and all their names could make thee quickly learn.

  Two princes of the people yet I nowhere can behold,

  Castor, the skilful knight on horse, and Pollux, uncontrolled

  For all stand-fights, and force of hand; both at a burthen bred;

  My natural brothers; either here they have not followed

  From lovely Sparta, or, arrived within the sea-borne fleet,

  In fear of infamy for me in broad field shame to meet."

  Not so; for holy Tellus' womb inclosed those worthy men

  In Sparta, their beloved soil. The voiceful heralds then

  The firm agreement of the Gods through all the city ring,

  Two lambs, and spirit-refreshing wine (the fruit of earth) they bring,

  Within a goat-skin bottle closed; Idseus also brought

  A massy glittering bowl and cups, that all of gold were wrought;

  Which bearing to the king they cried : " Son of Laomedon,

  Rise, for the well-rode peers of Troy, and brassed-armed Greeks in one,

  Send to thee to descend the field, that they firm vows may make;

  For Paris and the Spartan king must fight for Helen's sake,

  With long-armed lances; and the man that proves victorious,

  The woman and the wealth she brought shall follow to his house;

  The rest knit friendship, and firm leagues; we safe in Troy shall dwell,

  In Argos and Achaia they, that do in dames excel."

  He said; and Priam's aged joints with chilled fear did shake,

  Yet instantly he bade his men his chariot ready make.

  Which soon they did, and he ascends. .He takes the reins, and guide

  Antenor calls; who instantly mounts to his royal side,

  And, through the Scsean ports to field, the swift-foot horse they drive,

  And when at them of Troy and Greece the aged lords arrive,

  From horse, on Troy's well-feeding soil, 'twixt both the hosts they go.

  When straight up-rose the king of men, up-rose Ulysses too;

  The heralds in their richest coats repeat (as was the guise)

  The true vows of the Gods term'd theirs, since made before their eyes.

  Then in a cup of gold they mix the wine that each side brings,

  And next pour water on the hands of both the kings of kings.

  Which done, Atrides drew his knife, that evermore he put

  Within the large sheath of his sword, with which away he cut

  The wool from both fronts of the lambs, which (as a rite in use

  Of execration to their heads that brake the plighted truce)

  The heralds of both hosts did give the peers of both; and then,

  With hands and' voice advanced to heaven, thus pray'd the king of men:

  “O Jove, that Ida dost protect, and hast the titles won

  Most glorious, most invincible; and thou all-seeing Sun,

  All-hearing, all re-comforting; floods; earths; and powers beneath,

  That all the perjuries of men chastise even after death;

  Be witnesses, and see performed the hearty vows we make;

  If Alexander shall the life of Menelaus take,

  He shall from henceforth Helena, with all her wealth, retain,

  And we will to our household Gods, hoise sail, and home again.

  If by my honour'd brother's hand be Alexander slain,

  The Trojans then shall his forced queen with all her wealth restore,

  And pay convenient fine to us, and ours for evermore.

  If Priam and his sons deny to pay this, thus agreed,

  When Alexander shall be slain, for that perfidious deed,

  And for the fine, will I fight here, till dearly they repay,

  By death and ruin, the amends that falsehood keeps away."

  This said, the throats of both the lambs cut with his royal knife,

  He laid them panting on the earth, till, quite deprived of life,

  The steel had robbed them of their strength; then golden cups they crowned

  With wine out of a cistern drawn; which poured upon the ground,

  They fell upon their humble knees to all the deities,

  And thus prayed one of both the hosts, that might do sacrifice:

  “O Jupiter, most high, most great, and all the deathless Powers!

  Who first shall dare to violate the late sworn oaths of ours,

  So let the bloods and brains of them, and all they shall produce,

  Flow on the stained face of the earth, as now this sacred juice;

  And let their wives with bastardice brand all their future race."

  Thus prayed they; but with wished effects their prayers Jove did not grace;

  When Priam said : " Lords of both hosts, I can no longer stay

  To see my loved son try his life, and so must take my way

  To wind-exposed Uion. Jove yet and heaven's high States

  Know only which of these must now pay tribute to the Fates."

  Thus, putting in his coach the lambs, he mounts and reins his horse;

  Antenor to him;
and to Troy both take their speedy course.

  Then Hector, Priam's martial son, stepped forth, and met the ground,

  With wise Ulysses, where the blows of combat must resound;

  Which done, into a helm they put two lots, to let them know

  Which of the combatants should first his brass-piled javelin throw;

  When all the people standing by, with hands held up to heaven,

  Prayed Jove the conquest might not be by force or fortune given,

  But that the man, who was in right the author of most wrong,

  Might feel his justice, and no more these tedious wars prolong,

  But, sinking to the house of death, leave them (as long before)

  Linked fast in leagues of amity that might dissolve no more.

  Then Hector shook the helm that held the equal dooms of chance,

  Looked back and drew; and Paris first had lot to hurl his lance.

  The soldiers all sat down enranked, each by his arms and horse

  That then lay down and cooled their hoofs. And now the allotted course

  Bids fair-haired Helen's husband arm; who first makes fast his greaves

  With silver buckles to his legs; then on his breast receives

  The curets that Lycaon wore (his brother), but made fit

  For his fair body; next his sword he took, and fastened it,

  All damasked, underneath his arm; his shield then grave and great

  His shoulders wore: and on his head his glorious helm he set,

  Topped with a plume of horse's hair, that horribly did dance,

  And seemed to threaten as he moved; at last he takes his lance,

  Exceeding big, and full of weight, which he with ease could use.

  In like sort, Sparta's warhke king himself with arms endues.

  Thus armed at either army both, they both stood bravely in,

  Possessing both hosts with amaze, they came so chin to chin,

  And with such horrible aspects each other did salute.

  A fair large field was made for them, where wraths, for hugeness mute,

  And mutual, made them mutually at either shake their darts

  Before they threw. Then Paris first with his long javelin parts :

  It smote Atrides' orby targe, but ran not through the brass,

  For in it (arming well the shield) the head reflected was.

  Then did the second combatant apply him to his spear,

  Which ere he threw, he thus besought almighty Jupiter:

  “O Jove! Vouchsafe me now revenge, and that my enemy,

  For doing wrong so undeserved, may pay deservedly

  The pains he forfeited; and let these hands inflict those pains

  By conquering, ay, by conquering dead, him on whom life complains;

  That any now, or any one of all the brood of men

  To live hereafter, may with fear from all offence abstain,

  Much more from all such foul offence to him that was his host,

  And entertained him as the man whom he affected most."

  This said, he shook and threw his lance; which struck through Paris' shield,

  And, with the strength he gave to it, it made the curets yield,

  His coat of mail, his breast, and all, and drove his entrails in,

  In that low region where the guts in three small parts begin;

  Yet he, in bowing of his breast, prevented sable death.

  This taint he followed with his sword, drawn from a silver sheath,

  Which lifting high, he struck his helm full where his plume did stand,

  On which it piecemeal brake, and fell from his unhappy hand.

  At which he sighing stood, and stared upon the ample sky,

  And said : " O Jove, there is no God given more illiberally

  To those that serve thee than thyself, why have I prayed in vain?

  I hoped my hand should have revenged the wrongs I still sustain

  On him that did them, and still dares their foul defence pursue,

  And now my lance hath missed his end, my sword in shivers flew,

  And he 'scapes all." With this, again he rushed upon his guest,

  And caught him by the horse-hair plume -that dangled on his crest,

  With thought to drag him to the Greeks, which he had surely done,

  And so, besides the victory, had wondrous glory won,

  Because the needle-painted lace, with which his helm was tied

  Beneath his chin, and so about his dainty throat implied,

  Had strangled him but that, in time, the Cyprian seed of Jove

  Did break the string with which was lined that which the needle wove,

  And was the tough thong of a steer, and so the victor's palm

  Was, for so full a man-at-arms, only an empty helm.

  That then he swung about his head, and cast among his friends,

  Who scrambled, and took't up with shouts. Again then he intends

  To force the life-blood of his foe, and ran on him amain

  With shaken javelin; when the Queen, that lovers loves, again

  Attended, and now ravished him from that encounter quite,

  With ease, and wondrous suddenly, for she, a Goddess, might.

  She hid him in a cloud of gold, and never made him known

  Till in his chamber, fresh and sweet, she gently set him down,

  And went for Helen, whom she found in Scsea's utmost height,

  To which whole swarms of city dames had climbed to see the sight.

  To give her errand good success, she took on her the shape

  Of beldame Grsea, who was brought by Helen, in her rape,

  From Lacedsemon, and had trust 'in all her secrets still,

  Being old, and had (of all her maids) the main bent of her will,

  And spun for her her finest wool. Like her, Love's Empress came,

  Pulled Helen by the heavenly veil, and softly said : " Madame,

  My lord calls for you, you must needs make all your kind haste home;

  He's in your chamber, stays, and longs; sits by your bed; pray come,

  'Tis richly made, and sweet; but he more sweet, and looks so clear,

  So fresh, and movingly attired, that, seeing, you would swear

  He came not from the dusty fight, but from a courtly dance,

  Or would to dancing." This she made a charm for dalliance;

  Whose virtue Helen felt, and knew, by her so radiant eyes,

  White neck, and most enticing breasts, the deified disguise.

  At which amazed, she answered her: "Unhappy Deity!

  Why lovest thou still in these deceits to wrap my fantasy?

  Or whither yet, of all the towns given to their lust beside,

  In Phrygia, or Mseonia, comest thou to be my guide,

  If there (of divers languaged men) thou hast, as here in Troy,

  Some other friend to be my shame, since here thy latest joy

  By Menelaus now subdued, by him shall I be borne

  Home to his court, and end my life in triumphs of his scorn?

  And, to this end, would thy deceits my wanton life allure?

  Hence, go thyself to Priam's son, and all the ways abjure

  Of Gods, or godlike-minded dames, nor ever turn again

  Thy earth-affecting feet to heaven, but for his sake sustain

  Toils here; guard, grace him endlessly, till he requite thy grace

  By giving thee my place with him; or take his servant's place,

  If, all dishonourable ways, your favours seek to serve

  His never-pleased incontinence; I better will deserve,

  Than serve his dotage now. What shame were it for me to feed

  This lust in him; all honoured dames would hate me for the deed;

  He leaves a woman's love so shamed, and shows so base a mind

  To feel nor my shame nor his own; griefs of a greater kind

  Wound me than such as can admit such kind delights so soon."

  The
Goddess, angry that, past shame, her mere will was not done,

  Replied : " Incense me not, you wretch, lest, once incensed, I leave

  Thy cursed life to as strange a hate, as yet it may receive

  A love from me; and lest I spread through both hosts such despite,

  For those plagues they have felt for thee, that both abjure thee quite,

  And setting thee in midst of both, turn all their wraths on thee,

  And dart thee dead; that such a death may wreak thy wrong of me."

  This struck the fair dame with such fear it took her speech away,

  And, shadowed in her snowy veil, she durst not but obey;

  And yet, to shun the shame she feared, she vanished undescried

  Of all the Trojan ladies there, for Venus was. her guide.

  Arrived at home, her women both fell to their work in haste;

  When she that was of all her sex the most divinely graced

  Ascended to a higher room, though much against her will,

  Where lovely Alexander was, being led by Venus still.

  The laughter-loving dame discerned her moved mind by her grace,

  And, for her mirth sake, set a stool, full before Paris' face,

  Where she would needs have Helen sit; who, though she durst not choose

  But sit, yet looked away for all the Goddess' power could use,

  And used her tongue too,, and to chide whom "Venus soothed so much,

  And chid, too, in this bitter kind : " And was thy cowardice such,

  So conquered, to be seen alive? O would to God, thy life

  Had perished by his worthy hand to whom I first was wife!

  Before this, thou wouldst glorify thy valour and thy lance,

  And, past my first love's, boast them far. Go once more, and advance

  Thy braves against his single power; this foil might fall by chance.

  Poor conquered man! 'Twas such a chance, as I would not advise.

  Thy valour should provoke again. Shun him, thou most unwise,

  Lest next, thy spirit sent to hell, thy body be his prise."

  He answered: " Pray thee, woman, cease to chide and grieve me thus.

  Disgraces will not ever last. Look on their end. On us

  Will other Gods, at other times, let fall the victor's wreath,

  As on him Pallas put it now. Shall our love sink beneath

  The hate of fortune? In love's fire let all hates vanish. Come,

  Love never so inflamed my heart; no, not when, bringing home

  Thy beauty's so delicious prise, on Cranae's blest shore

  I longed for, and enjoyed thee first." With this he went before,