The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book IX.

Argument Of The Ninth Book.     By advice of Nestor, Agamemnon sends Ulysses, Phoenix, and Ajax to the tent of Achilles with proposals of reconciliation. They execute their commission, but without effect. Phoenix remains with Achilles; Ulysses and Ajax return.      So watch'd the Trojan host; but thoughts of flight,      Companions of chill fear, from heaven infused,      Possess'd the Grecians; every leader's heart      Bled, pierced with anguish insupportable.      As when two adverse winds blowing from Thrace,      Boreas and Zephyrus, the fishy Deep      Vex sudden, all around, the sable flood      High curl'd, flings forth the salt weed on the shore      Such tempest rent the mind of every Greek.      Forth stalk'd Atrides with heart-riving wo      Transfixt; he bade his heralds call by name      Each Chief to council, but without the sound      Of proclamation; and that task himself      Among the foremost sedulous perform'd.      The sad assembly sat; when weeping fast      As some deep[1] fountain pours its rapid stream      Down from the summit of a lofty rock,      King Agamemnon in the midst arose,      And, groaning, the Achaians thus address'd.      Friends, counsellors and leaders of the Greeks!      In dire perplexity Saturnian Jove      Involves me, cruel; he assured me erst,      And solemnly, that I should not return      Till I had wasted wall-encircled Troy;      But now (ah fraudulent and foul reverse!)      Commands me back inglorious to the shores      Of distant Argos, with diminish'd troops.      So stands the purpose of almighty Jove,      Who many a citadel hath laid in dust,      And shall hereafter, matchless in his power.      Haste therefore. My advice is, that we all      Fly with our fleet into our native land,      For wide-built Ilium shall not yet be ours.      He ceased, and all sat silent; long the sons      Of Greece, o'erwhelm'd with sorrow, silent sat,      When thus, at last, bold Diomede began.      Atrides! foremost of the Chiefs I rise      To contravert thy purpose ill-conceived,      And with such freedom as the laws, O King!      Of consultation and debate allow.      Hear patient. Thou hast been thyself the first      Who e'er reproach'd me in the public ear      As one effeminate and slow to fight;      How truly, let both young and old decide.      The son of wily Saturn hath to thee      Given, and refused; he placed thee high in power,      Gave thee to sway the sceptre o'er us all,      But courage gave thee not, his noblest gift.[2]      Art thou in truth persuaded that the Greeks      Are pusillanimous, as thou hast said?      If thy own fears impel thee to depart,      Go thou, the way is open; numerous ships,      Thy followers from Mycen, line the shore.      But we, the rest, depart not, 'till the spoil      Of Troy reward us. Or if all incline      To seek again their native home, fly all;      Myself and Sthenelus will persevere      Till Ilium fall, for with the Gods we came.      He ended; all the admiring sons of Greece      With shouts the warlike Diomede extoll'd,      When thus equestrian Nestor next began.      Tydides, thou art eminently brave      In fight, and all the princes of thy years      Excell'st in council. None of all the Greeks      Shall find occasion just to blame thy speech      Or to gainsay; yet thou hast fallen short.      What wonder? Thou art young; and were myself      Thy father, thou should'st be my latest born.      Yet when thy speech is to the Kings of Greece,      It is well-framed and prudent. Now attend!      Myself will speak, who have more years to boast      Than thou hast seen, and will so closely scan      The matter, that Atrides, our supreme,      Himself shall have no cause to censure me.      He is a wretch, insensible and dead      To all the charities of social life,      Whose pleasure is in civil broils alone.[3]      But Night is urgent, and with Night's demands      Let all comply. Prepare we now repast,      And let the guard be stationed at the trench      Without the wall; the youngest shall supply      That service; next, Atrides, thou begin      (For thou art here supreme) thy proper task.      Banquet the elders; it shall not disgrace      Thy sovereignty, but shall become thee well.      Thy tents are fill'd with wine which day by day      Ships bring from Thrace; accommodation large      Hast thou, and numerous is thy menial train.      Thy many guests assembled, thou shalt hear      Our counsel, and shalt choose the best; great need      Have all Achaia's sons, now, of advice      Most prudent; for the foe, fast by the fleet      Hath kindled numerous fires, which who can see      Unmoved? This night shall save us or destroy.[4]      He spake, whom all with full consent approved.      Forth rush'd the guard well-arm'd; first went the son      Of Nestor, Thrasymedes, valiant Chief;      Then, sons of Mars, Ascalaphus advanced,      And brave Ilmenus; whom follow'd next      Deipyrus, Aphareus, Meriones,      And Lycomedes, Creon's son renown'd.      Seven were the leaders of the guard, and each      A hundred spearmen headed, young and bold.      Between the wall and trench their seat they chose,      There kindled fires, and each his food prepared.      Atrides, then, to his pavilion led      The thronging Chiefs of Greece, and at his board      Regaled them; they with readiness and keen      Dispatch of hunger shared the savory feast,      And when nor thirst remain'd nor hunger more      Unsated, Nestor then, arising first,      Whose counsels had been ever wisest deem'd,      Warm for the public interest, thus began.      Atrides! glorious sovereign! King of men!      Thou art my first and last, proem and close,      For thou art mighty, and to thee are given      From Jove the sceptre and the laws in charge,      For the advancement of the general good.      Hence, in peculiar, both to speak and hear      Become thy duty, and the best advice,      By whomsoever offer'd, to adopt      And to perform, for thou art judge alone.      I will promulge the counsel which to me      Seems wisest; such, that other Grecian none      Shall give thee better; neither is it new,      But I have ever held it since the day      When, most illustrious! thou wast pleased to take      By force the maid Brises from the tent      Of the enraged Achilles; not, in truth,      By my advice, who did dissuade thee much;      But thou, complying with thy princely wrath,      Hast shamed a Hero whom themselves the Gods      Delight to honor, and his prize detain'st.      Yet even now contrive we, although late,      By lenient gifts liberal, and by speech      Conciliatory, to assuage his ire.      Then answer'd Agamemnon, King of men.      Old Chief! there is no falsehood in thy charge;      I have offended, and confess the wrong.      The warrior is alone a host, whom Jove      Loves as he loves Achilles, for whose sake      He hath Achaia's thousands thus subdued.      But if the impulse of a wayward mind      Obeying, I have err'd, behold me, now,      Prepared to soothe him with atonement large      Of gifts inestimable, which by name      I will propound in presence of you all.      Seven tripods, never sullied yet with fire;      Of gold ten talents; twenty cauldrons bright;      Twelve coursers, strong, victorious in the race;      No man possessing prizes such as mine      Which they have won for me, shall feel the want      Of acquisitions splendid or of gold.      Seven virtuous female captives will I give      Expert in arts domestic, Lesbians all,      Whom, when himself took Lesbos, I received      My chosen portion, passing womankind      In perfect loveliness of face and form.      These will I give, and will with these resign      Her whom I took, Brises, with an oath      Most solemn, that unconscious as she was      Of my embraces, such I yield her his.      All these I give him now; and if at length      The Gods vouchsafe to us to overturn      Priam's great city, let him heap his ships      With gold and brass, entering and choosing first      When we shall share the spoil. Let him beside      Choose twenty from among the maids of Troy,      Helen except, loveliest of all their sex.      And if once more, the rich milk-flowing land      We reach of Argos, he shall there become      My son-in-law, and shall enjoy like state      With him whom I in all abundance rear,      My only son Orestes. At my home      I have three daughters; let him thence conduct      To Phthia, her whom he shall most approve.      Chrysothemis shall be his bride, or else      Laodice; or if she please him more,      Iphianassa; and from him I ask      No dower;[5] myself will such a dower bestow      As never father on his child before.      Seven fair well-peopled cities I will give      Cardamyle and Enope, and rich      In herbage, Hira; Pher stately-built,      And for her depth of pasturage renown'd      Antheia; proud peia's lofty towers,      And Pedasus impurpled dark with vines.      All these are maritime, and on the shore      They stand of Pylus, by a race possess'd      Most rich in flocks and herds, who tributes large,      And gifts presenting to his sceptred hand,      Shall hold him high in honor as a God.      These will I give him if from wrath he cease.      Let him be overcome. Pluto alone      Is found implacable and deaf to prayer,      Whom therefore of all Gods men hate the most.      My power is greater, and my years than his      More numerous, therefore let him yield to me.      To him Gerenian Nestor thus replied.      Atrides! glorious sovereign! King of men!      No sordid gifts, or to be view'd with scorn,      Givest thou the Prince Achilles. But away!      Send chosen messengers, who shall the son      Of Peleus, instant, in his tent address.      Myself will choose them, be it theirs to obey.      Let Phoenix lead, Jove loves him. Be the next      Huge Ajax; and the wise Ulysses third.      Of heralds, Odius and Eurybates      Shall them attend. Bring water for our hands;      Give charge that every tongue abstain from speech      Portentous, and propitiate Jove by prayer.      He spake, and all were pleased. The heralds pour'd      Pure water on their hands;[6] attendant youths      The beakers crown'd, and wine from right to left      Distributed to all. Libation made,      All drank, and in such measure as they chose,      Then hasted forth from Agamemnon's tent.      Gerenian Nestor at their side them oft      Instructed, each admonishing by looks      Significant, and motion of his eyes,      But most Ulysses, to omit no means      By which Achilles likeliest might be won.      Along the margin of the sounding deep      They pass'd, to Neptune, compasser of earth,      Preferring vows ardent with numerous prayers,      That they might sway with ease the mighty mind      Of fierce acides. And now they reach'd      The station where his Myrmidons abode.      Him solacing they found his heart with notes      Struck from his silver-framed harmonious lyre;      Among the spoils he found it when he sack'd      Etion's city; with that lyre his cares      He sooth'd, and glorious heroes were his theme.[7]      Patroclus silent sat, and he alone,      Before him, on acides intent,      Expecting still when he should cease to sing.      The messengers advanced (Ulysses first)      Into his presence; at the sight, his harp      Still in his hand, Achilles from his seat      Started astonish'd; nor with less amaze      Patroclus also, seeing them, arose.      Achilles seized their hands, and thus he spake.[8]      Hail friends! ye all are welcome. Urgent cause      Hath doubtless brought you, whom I dearest hold      (Though angry still) of all Achaia's host.      So saying, he introduced them, and on seats      Placed them with purple arras overspread,      Then thus bespake Patroclus standing nigh.      Son of Mentius! bring a beaker more      Capacious, and replenish it with wine      Diluted[9] less; then give to each his cup;      For dearer friends than these who now arrive      My roof beneath, or worthier, have I none.      He ended, and Patroclus quick obey'd,      Whom much he loved. Achilles, then, himself      Advancing near the fire an ample[10] tray,      Spread goats' flesh on it, with the flesh of sheep      And of a fatted brawn; of each a chine.      Automedon attending held them fast,      While with sharp steel Achilles from the bone      Sliced thin the meat, then pierced it with the spits.      Meantime the godlike Mentiades      Kindled fierce fire, and when the flame declined,      Raked wide the embers, laid the meat to roast,      And taking sacred salt from the hearth-side      Where it was treasured, shower'd it o'er the feast.      When all was finish'd, and the board set forth,      Patroclus furnish'd it around with bread      In baskets, and Achilles served the guests.      Beside the tent-wall, opposite, he sat      To the divine Ulysses; first he bade      Patroclus make oblation; he consign'd      The consecrated morsel to the fire,      And each, at once, his savoury mess assail'd.      When neither edge of hunger now they felt      Nor thirsted longer, Ajax with a nod      Made sign to Phoenix, which Ulysses mark'd,      And charging high his cup, drank to his host.      Health to Achilles! hospitable cheer      And well prepared, we want not at the board      Of royal Agamemnon, or at thine,      For both are nobly spread; but dainties now,      Or plenteous boards, are little our concern.[11]      Oh godlike Chief! tremendous ills we sit      Contemplating with fear, doubtful if life      Or death, with the destruction of our fleet,      Attend us, unless thou put on thy might.      For lo! the haughty Trojans, with their friends      Call'd from afar, at the fleet-side encamp,      Fast by the wall, where they have kindled fires      Numerous, and threaten that no force of ours      Shall check their purposed inroad on the ships.      Jove grants them favorable signs from heaven,      Bright lightnings; Hector glares revenge, with rage      Infuriate, and by Jove assisted, heeds      Nor God nor man, but prays the morn to rise      That he may hew away our vessel-heads,      Burn all our fleet with fire, and at their sides      Slay the Achaians struggling in the smoke.      Horrible are my fears lest these his threats      The Gods accomplish, and it be our doom      To perish here, from Argos far remote.      Up, therefore! if thou canst, and now at last      The weary sons of all Achaia save      From Trojan violence. Regret, but vain,      Shall else be thine hereafter, when no cure      Of such great ill, once suffer'd, can be found.      Thou therefore, seasonably kind, devise      Means to preserve from such disast'rous fate      The Grecians. Ah, my friend! when Peleus thee      From Phthia sent to Agamemnon's aid,      On that same day he gave thee thus in charge.      "Juno, my son, and Pallas, if they please,      Can make thee valiant; but thy own big heart      Thyself restrain. Sweet manners win respect.      Cease from pernicious strife, and young and old      Throughout the host shall honor thee the more."      Such was thy father's charge, which thou, it seems,      Remember'st not. Yet even now thy wrath      Renounce; be reconciled; for princely gifts      Atrides gives thee if thy wrath subside.      Hear, if thou wilt, and I will tell thee all,      How vast the gifts which Agamemnon made      By promise thine, this night within his tent.      Seven tripods never sullied yet with fire;      Of gold ten talents; twenty cauldrons bright;      Twelve steeds strong-limb'd, victorious in the race;      No man possessing prizes such as those      Which they have won for him, shall feel the want      Of acquisitions splendid, or of gold.      Seven virtuous female captives he will give,      Expert in arts domestic, Lesbians all,      Whom when thou conquer'dst Lesbos, he received      His chosen portion, passing woman-kind      In perfect loveliness of face and form.      These will he give, and will with these resign      Her whom he took, Brises, with an oath      Most solemn, that unconscious as she was      Of his embraces, such he yields her back.      All these he gives thee now! and if at length      The Gods vouchsafe to us to overturn      Priam's great city, thou shalt heap thy ships      With gold and brass, entering and choosing first,      When we shall share the spoil; and shalt beside      Choose twenty from among the maids of Troy,      Helen except, loveliest of all their sex.      And if once more the rich milk-flowing land      We reach of Argos, thou shalt there become      His son-in-law, and shalt enjoy like state      With him, whom he in all abundance rears,      His only son Orestes. In his house      He hath three daughters; thou may'st home conduct      To Phthia, her whom thou shalt most approve.      Chrysothemis shall be thy bride; or else      Laodice; or if she please thee more      Iphianassa; and from thee he asks      No dower; himself will such a dower bestow      As never father on his child before.      Seven fair well-peopled cities will he give;      Cardamyle and Enope; and rich      In herbage, Hira; Pher stately-built,      And for her depth of pasturage renown'd,      Antheia; proud peia's lofty towers,      And Pedasus impurpled dark with vines.      All these are maritime, and on the shore      They stand of Pylus, by a race possess'd      Most rich in flocks and herds, who tribute large      And gifts presenting to thy sceptred hand,      Shall hold thee high in honor as a God.      These will he give thee, if thy wrath subside.      But should'st thou rather in thine heart the more      Both Agamemnon and his gifts detest,      Yet oh compassionate the afflicted host      Prepared to adore thee. Thou shalt win renown      Among the Grecians that shall never die.      Now strike at Hector. He is here;--himself      Provokes thee forth; madness is in his heart,      And in his rage he glories that our ships      Have hither brought no Grecian brave as he.      Then thus Achilles matchless in the race.      Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!      I must with plainness speak my fixt resolve      Unalterable; lest I hear from each      The same long murmur'd melancholy tale.      For I abhor the man, not more the gates      Of hell itself, whose words belie his heart.      So shall not mine. My judgment undisguised      Is this; that neither Agamemnon me      Nor all the Greeks shall move; for ceaseless toil      Wins here no thanks; one recompense awaits      The sedentary and the most alert,      The brave and base in equal honor stand,      And drones and heroes fall unwept alike.      I after all my labors, who exposed      My life continual in the field, have earn'd      No very sumptuous prize. As the poor bird      Gives to her unfledged brood a morsel gain'd      After long search, though wanting it herself,      So I have worn out many sleepless nights,      And waded deep through many a bloody day      In battle for their wives.[12] I have destroy'd      Twelve cities with my fleet, and twelve, save one,      On foot contending in the fields of Troy.      From all these cities, precious spoils I took      Abundant, and to Agamemnon's hand      Gave all the treasure. He within his ships      Abode the while, and having all received,      Little distributed, and much retained;      He gave, however, to the Kings and Chiefs      A portion, and they keep it. Me alone      Of all the Grecian host he hath despoil'd;      My bride, my soul's delight is in his hands,      And let him, couch'd with her, enjoy his fill      Of dalliance. What sufficient cause, what need      Have the Achaians to contend with Troy?      Why hath Atrides gather'd such a host,      And led them hither? Was't not for the sake      Of beauteous Helen? And of all mankind      Can none be found who love their proper wives      But the Atrid? There is no good man      Who loves not, guards not, and with care provides      For his own wife, and, though in battle won,      I loved the fair Brises at my heart.      But having dispossess'd me of my prize      So foully, let him not essay me now,      For I am warn'd, and he shall not prevail.      With thee and with thy peers let him advise,      Ulysses! how the fleet may likeliest 'scape      Yon hostile fires; full many an arduous task      He hath accomplished without aid of mine;      So hath he now this rampart and the trench      Which he hath digg'd around it, and with stakes      Planted contiguous--puny barriers all      To hero-slaughtering Hector's force opposed.      While I the battle waged, present myself      Among the Achaians, Hector never fought      Far from his walls, but to the Scan gate      Advancing and the beech-tree, there remain'd.      Once, on that spot he met me, and my arm      Escaped with difficulty even there.      But, since I feel myself not now inclined      To fight with noble Hector, yielding first      To Jove due worship, and to all the Gods,      To-morrow will I launch, and give my ships      Their lading. Look thou forth at early dawn,      And, if such spectacle delight thee aught,      Thou shalt behold me cleaving with my prows      The waves of Hellespont, and all my crews      Of lusty rowers active in their task.      So shall I reach (if Ocean's mighty God      Prosper my passage) Phthia the deep-soil'd      On the third day. I have possessions there,      Which hither roaming in an evil hour      I left abundant. I shall also hence      Convey much treasure, gold and burnish'd brass,      And glittering steel, and women passing fair      My portion of the spoils. But he, your King,      The prize he gave, himself resumed,      And taunted at me. Tell him my reply,      And tell it him aloud, that other Greeks      May indignation feel like me, if arm'd      Always in impudence, he seek to wrong      Them also. Let him not henceforth presume,      Canine and hard in aspect though he be,      To look me in the face. I will not share      His counsels, neither will I aid his works.      Let it suffice him, that he wrong'd me once,      Deceived me once, henceforth his glozing arts      Are lost on me. But let him rot in peace      Crazed as he is, and by the stroke of Jove      Infatuate. I detest his gifts, and him      So honor as the thing which most I scorn.      And would he give me twenty times the worth      Of this his offer, all the treasured heaps      Which he possesses, or shall yet possess,      All that Orchomenos within her walls,      And all that opulent Egyptian Thebes      Receives, the city with a hundred gates,      Whence twenty thousand chariots rush to war,      And would he give me riches as the sands,      And as the dust of earth, no gifts from him      Should soothe me, till my soul were first avenged      For all the offensive license of his tongue.      I will not wed the daughter of your Chief,      Of Agamemnon. Could she vie in charms      With golden Venus, had she all the skill      Of blue-eyed Pallas, even so endow'd      She were no bride for me. No. He may choose      From the Achaians some superior Prince,      One more her equal. Peleus, if the Gods      Preserve me, and I safe arrive at home,      Himself, ere long, shall mate me with a bride.      In Hellas and in Phthia may be found      Fair damsels many, daughters of the Chiefs      Who guard our cities; I may choose of them,      And make the loveliest of them all my own.      There, in my country, it hath ever been      My dearest purpose, wedded to a wife      Of rank convenient, to enjoy in peace      Such wealth as ancient Peleus hath acquired.      For life, in my account, surpasses far      In value all the treasures which report      Ascribed to populous Ilium, ere the Greeks      Arrived, and while the city yet had peace;      Those also which Apollo's marble shrine      In rocky Pytho boasts. Fat flocks and beeves      May be by force obtain'd, tripods and steeds      Are bought or won, but if the breath of man      Once overpass its bounds, no force arrests      Or may constrain the unbodied spirit back.      Me, as my silver-footed mother speaks      Thetis, a twofold consummation waits.      If still with battle I encompass Troy,      I win immortal glory, but all hope      Renounce of my return. If I return      To my beloved country, I renounce      The illustrious meed of glory, but obtain      Secure and long immunity from death.      And truly I would recommend to all      To voyage homeward, for the fall as yet      Ye shall not see of Ilium's lofty towers,      For that the Thunderer with uplifted arm      Protects her, and her courage hath revived.      Bear ye mine answer back, as is the part      Of good ambassadors, that they may frame      Some likelier plan, by which both fleet and host      May be preserved; for, my resentment still      Burning, this project is but premature.      Let Phoenix stay with us, and sleep this night      Within my tent, that, if he so incline,      He may to-morrow in my fleet embark,      And hence attend me; but I leave him free.      He ended; they astonish'd at his tone      (For vehement he spake) sat silent all,      Till Phoenix, aged warrior, at the last      Gush'd into tears (for dread his heart o'erwhelm'd      Lest the whole fleet should perish) and replied.      If thou indeed have purposed to return,      Noble Achilles! and such wrath retain'st      That thou art altogether fixt to leave      The fleet a prey to desolating fires,      How then, my son! shall I at Troy abide      Forlorn of thee? When Peleus, hoary Chief,      Sent thee to Agamemnon, yet a child,[13]      Unpractised in destructive fight, nor less      Of councils ignorant, the schools in which      Great minds are form'd, he bade me to the war      Attend thee forth, that I might teach thee all,      Both elocution and address in arms.      Me therefore shalt thou not with my consent      Leave here, my son! no, not would Jove himself      Promise me, reaping smooth this silver beard,      To make me downy-cheek'd as in my youth;      Such as when erst from Hellas beauty-famed      I fled, escaping from my father's wrath      Amyntor, son of Ormenus, who loved      A beauteous concubine, and for her sake      Despised his wife and persecuted me.      My mother suppliant at my knees, with prayer      Perpetual importuned me to embrace      The damsel first, that she might loathe my sire.      I did so; and my father soon possess'd      With hot suspicion of the fact, let loose      A storm of imprecation, in his rage      Invoking all the Furies to forbid      That ever son of mine should press his knees.      Tartarian Jove[14] and dread Persephone      Fulfill'd his curses; with my pointed spear      I would have pierced his heart, but that my wrath      Some Deity assuaged, suggesting oft      What shame and obloquy I should incur,      Known as a parricide through all the land.      At length, so treated, I resolved to dwell      No longer in his house. My friends, indeed,      And all my kindred compass'd me around      With much entreaty, wooing me to stay;      Oxen and sheep they slaughter'd, many a plump      Well-fatted brawn extended in the flames,      And drank the old man's vessels to the lees.      Nine nights continual at my side they slept,      While others watch'd by turns, nor were the fires      Extinguish'd ever, one, beneath the porch      Of the barr'd hall, and one that from within      The vestibule illumed my chamber door.      But when the tenth dark night at length arrived,      Sudden the chamber doors bursting I flew      That moment forth, and unperceived alike      By guards and menial woman, leap'd the wall.      Through spacious Hellas flying thence afar,      I came at length to Phthia the deep-soil'd,      Mother of flocks, and to the royal house      Of Peleus; Peleus with a willing heart      Receiving, loved me as a father loves      His only son, the son of his old age,      Inheritor of all his large demesnes.      He made me rich; placed under my control      A populous realm, and on the skirts I dwelt      Of Phthia, ruling the Dolopian race.      Thee from my soul, thou semblance of the Gods,      I loved, and all illustrious as thou art,      Achilles! such I made thee. For with me,      Me only, would'st thou forth to feast abroad,      Nor would'st thou taste thy food at home, 'till first      I placed thee on my knees, with my own hand      Thy viands carved and fed thee, and the wine      Held to thy lips; and many a time, in fits      Of infant frowardness, the purple juice      Rejecting thou hast deluged all my vest,      And fill'd my bosom. Oh, I have endured      Much, and have also much perform'd for thee,      Thus purposing, that since the Gods vouchsaf'd      No son to me, thyself shouldst be my son,      Godlike Achilles! who shouldst screen perchance      From a foul fate my else unshelter'd age.      Achilles! bid thy mighty spirit down.      Thou shouldst not be thus merciless; the Gods,      Although more honorable, and in power      And virtue thy superiors, are themselves      Yet placable; and if a mortal man      Offend them by transgression of their laws,      Libation, incense, sacrifice, and prayer,      In meekness offer'd turn their wrath away.      Prayers are Jove's daughters,[15] wrinkled,[16] lame, slant-eyed,      Which though far distant, yet with constant pace      Follow Offence. Offence, robust of limb,      And treading firm the ground, outstrips them all,      And over all the earth before them runs      Hurtful to man. They, following, heal the hurt.      Received respectfully when they approach,      They help us, and our prayers hear in return.      But if we slight, and with obdurate heart      Resist them, to Saturnian Jove they cry      Against us, supplicating that Offence      May cleave to us for vengeance of the wrong.      Thou, therefore, O Achilles! honor yield      To Jove's own daughters, vanquished, as the brave      Have ofttimes been, by honor paid to thee.      For came not Agamemnon as he comes      With gifts in hand, and promises of more      Hereafter; burn'd his anger still the same,      I would not move thee to renounce thy own,      And to assist us, howsoe'er distress'd.      But now, not only are his present gifts      Most liberal, and his promises of more      Such also, but these Princes he hath sent      Charged with entreaties, thine especial friends,      And chosen for that cause, from all the host.      Slight not their embassy, nor put to shame      Their intercession. We confess that once      Thy wrath was unreprovable and just.      Thus we have heard the heroes of old times      Applauded oft, whose anger, though intense,      Yet left them open to the gentle sway      Of reason and conciliatory gifts.      I recollect an ancient history,      Which, since all here are friends, I will relate.      The brave tolians and Curetes met      Beneath the walls of Calydon, and fought      With mutual slaughter; the tolian powers      In the defence of Calydon the fair,      And the Curetes bent to lay it waste:      That strife Diana of the golden throne      Kindled between them, with resentment fired      That Oeneus had not in some fertile spot      The first fruits of his harvest set apart      To her; with hecatombs he entertained      All the Divinities of heaven beside,      And her alone, daughter of Jove supreme,      Or through forgetfulness, or some neglect,      Served not; omission careless and profane!      She, progeny of Jove, Goddess shaft-arm'd,      A savage boar bright-tusk'd in anger sent,      Which haunting Oeneus' fields much havoc made.      Trees numerous on the earth in heaps he cast      Uprooting them, with all their blossoms on.      But Meleager, Oeneus' son, at length      Slew him, the hunters gathering and the hounds      Of numerous cities; for a boar so vast      Might not be vanquish'd by the power of few,      And many to their funeral piles he sent.      Then raised Diana clamorous dispute,      And contest hot between them, all alike,      Curetes and tolians fierce in arms      The boar's head claiming, and his bristly hide.      So long as warlike Meleager fought,      tolia prosper'd, nor with all their powers      Could the Curetes stand before the walls.      But when resentment once had fired the heart      Of Meleager, which hath tumult oft      Excited in the breasts of wisest men,      (For his own mother had his wrath provoked      Altha) thenceforth with his wedded wife      He dwelt, fair Cleopatra, close retired.      She was Marpessa's daughter, whom she bore      To Idas, bravest warrior in his day      Of all on earth. He fear'd not 'gainst the King      Himself Apollo, for the lovely nymph      Marpessa's sake, his spouse, to bend his bow.      Her, therefore, Idas and Marpessa named      Thenceforth Alcyone, because the fate      Of sad Alcyone Marpessa shared,      And wept like her, by Phoebus forced away.      Thus Meleager, tortured with the pangs      Of wrath indulged, with Cleopatra dwelt,      Vex'd that his mother cursed him; for, with grief      Frantic, his mother importuned the Gods      To avenge her slaughter'd brothers[17] on his head.      Oft would she smite the earth, while on her knees      Seated, she fill'd her bosom with her tears,      And call'd on Pluto and dread Proserpine      To slay her son; nor vain was that request,      But by implacable Erynnis heard      Roaming the shades of Erebus. Ere long      The tumult and the deafening din of war      Roar'd at the gates, and all the batter'd towers      Resounded. Then the elders of the town      Dispatch'd the high-priests of the Gods to plead      With Meleager for his instant aid,      With strong assurances of rich reward.      Where Calydon afforded fattest soil      They bade him choose to his own use a farm      Of fifty measured acres, vineyard half,      And half of land commodious for the plow.      Him Oeneus also, warrior grey with age,      Ascending to his chamber, and his doors      Smiting importunate, with earnest prayers      Assay'd to soften, kneeling to his son.      Nor less his sisters woo'd him to relent,      Nor less his mother; but in vain; he grew      Still more obdurate. His companions last,      The most esteem'd and dearest of his friends,      The same suit urged, yet he persisted still      Relentless, nor could even they prevail.      But when the battle shook his chamber-doors      And the Curetes climbing the high towers      Had fired the spacious city, then with tears      The beauteous Cleopatra, and with prayers      Assail'd him; in his view she set the woes      Numberless of a city storm'd--the men      Slaughter'd, the city burnt to dust, the chaste      Matrons with all their children dragg'd away.      That dread recital roused him, and at length      Issuing, he put his radiant armor on.      Thus Meleager, gratifying first      His own resentment from a fatal day      Saved the tolians, who the promised gift      Refused him, and his toils found no reward.      But thou, my son, be wiser; follow thou      No demon who would tempt thee to a course      Like his; occasion more propitious far      Smiles on thee now, than if the fleet were fired.      Come, while by gifts invited, and receive      From all the host, the honors of a God;      For shouldst thou, by no gifts induced, at last      Enter the bloody field, although thou chase      The Trojans hence, yet less shall be thy praise.      Then thus Achilles, matchless in the race.      Phoenix, my guide, wise, noble and revered!      I covet no such glory! the renown      Ordain'd by Jove for me, is to resist      All importunity to quit my ships      While I have power to move, or breath to draw.      Hear now, and mark me well. Cease thou from tears.      Confound me not, pleading with sighs and sobs      In Agamemnon's cause; O love not him,      Lest I renounce thee, who am now thy friend.      Assist me rather, as thy duty bids,      Him to afflict, who hath afflicted me,      So shalt thou share my glory and my power.      These shall report as they have heard, but here      Rest thou this night, and with the rising morn      We will decide, to stay or to depart.      He ceased, and silent, by a nod enjoin'd      Patroclus to prepare an easy couch      For Phoenix, anxious to dismiss the rest      Incontinent; when Ajax, godlike son      Of Telamon, arising, thus began.      Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd:      Depart we now; for I perceive that end      Or fruit of all our reasonings shall be none.      It is expedient also that we bear      Our answer back (unwelcome as it is)      With all dispatch, for the assembled Greeks      Expect us. Brave Achilles shuts a fire      Within his breast; the kindness of his friends,      And the respect peculiar by ourselves      Shown to him, on his heart work no effect.      Inexorable man! others accept      Even for a brother slain, or for a son      Due compensation;[18] the delinquent dwells      Secure at home, and the receiver, soothed      And pacified, represses his revenge.      But thou, resentful of the loss of one,      One virgin (such obduracy of heart      The Gods have given thee) can'st not be appeased      Yet we assign thee seven in her stead,      The most distinguish'd of their sex, and add      Large gifts beside. Ah then, at last relent!      Respect thy roof; we are thy guests; we come      Chosen from the multitude of all the Greeks,      Beyond them all ambitious of thy love.      To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.      My noble friend, offspring of Telamon!      Thou seem'st sincere, and I believe thee such.      But at the very mention of the name      Of Atreus' son, who shamed me in the sight      Of all Achaia's host, bearing me down      As I had been some vagrant at his door,      My bosom boils. Return ye and report      Your answer. I no thought will entertain      Of crimson war, till the illustrious son      Of warlike Priam, Hector, blood-embrued,      Shall in their tents the Myrmidons assail      Themselves, and fire my fleet. At my own ship,      And at my own pavilion it may chance      That even Hector's violence shall pause.[19]      He ended; they from massy goblets each      Libation pour'd, and to the fleet their course      Resumed direct, Ulysses at their head.      Patroclus then his fellow-warriors bade,      And the attendant women spread a couch      For Phoenix; they the couch, obedient, spread      With fleeces, with rich arras, and with flax      Of subtlest woof. There hoary Phoenix lay      In expectation of the sacred dawn.      Meantime Achilles in the interior tent,      With beauteous Diomeda by himself      From Lesbos brought, daughter of Phorbas, lay.      Patroclus opposite reposed, with whom      Slept charming Iphis; her, when he had won      The lofty towers of Scyros, the divine      Achilles took, and on his friend bestow'd.      But when those Chiefs at Agamemnon's tent      Arrived, the Greeks on every side arose      With golden cups welcoming their return.      All question'd them, but Agamemnon first.      Oh worthy of Achaia's highest praise,      And her chief ornament, Ulysses, speak!      Will he defend the fleet? or his big heart      Indulging wrathful, doth he still refuse?      To whom renown'd Ulysses thus replied.      Atrides, Agamemnon, King of men!      He his resentment quenches not, nor will,      But burns with wrath the more, thee and thy gifts      Rejecting both. He bids thee with the Greeks      Consult by what expedient thou may'st save      The fleet and people, threatening that himself      Will at the peep of day launch all his barks,      And counselling, beside, the general host      To voyage homeward, for that end as yet      Of Ilium wall'd to heaven, ye shall not find,      Since Jove the Thunderer with uplifted arm      Protects her, and her courage hath revived.      Thus speaks the Chief, and Ajax is prepared,      With the attendant heralds to report      As I have said. But Phoenix in the tent      Sleeps of Achilles, who his stay desired,      That on the morrow, if he so incline,      The hoary warrior may attend him hence      Home to his country, but he leaves him free.      He ended. They astonish'd at his tone      (For vehement he spake) sat silent all.      Long silent sat the afflicted sons of Greece,      When thus the mighty Diomede began.      Atrides, Agamemnon, King of men!      Thy supplications to the valiant son      Of Peleus, and the offer of thy gifts      Innumerous, had been better far withheld.      He is at all times haughty, and thy suit      Hath but increased his haughtiness of heart      Past bounds: but let him stay or let him go      As he shall choose. He will resume the fight      When his own mind shall prompt him, and the Gods      Shall urge him forth. Now follow my advice.      Ye have refresh'd your hearts with food and wine      Which are the strength of man; take now repose.      And when the rosy-finger'd morning fair      Shall shine again, set forth without delay      The battle, horse and foot, before the fleet,      And where the foremost fight, fight also thou.      He ended; all the Kings applauded warm      His counsel, and the dauntless tone admired      Of Diomede. Then, due libation made,      Each sought his tent, and took the gift of sleep.      * * * * * There is much in this book which is worthy of close attention. The consummate genius, the varied and versatile power, the eloquence, truth, and nature displayed in it, will always be admired. Perhaps there is no portion of the poem more remarkable for these attributes.--FELTON.