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

Argument Of The Seventh Book.     Ajax and Hector engage in single combat. The Grecians fortify their camp.      So saying, illustrious Hector through the gates      To battle rush'd, with Paris at his side,      And both were bent on deeds of high renown.      As when the Gods vouchsafe propitious gales      To longing mariners, who with smooth oars      Threshing the waves have all their strength consumed,      So them the longing Trojans glad received.      At once each slew a Grecian. Paris slew      Menesthius who in Arna dwelt, the son      Of Areithos, club-bearing chief,      And of Philomedusa radiant-eyed.      But Hector wounded with his glittering spear      Eoneus; he pierced his neck beneath      His brazen morion's verge, and dead he fell.      Then Glaucus, leader of the Lycian host,      Son of Hippolochus, in furious fight      Iphinos son of Dexias assail'd,      Mounting his rapid mares, and with his lance      His shoulder pierced; unhorsed he fell and died.      Such slaughter of the Grecians in fierce fight      Minerva noting, from the Olympian hills      Flew down to sacred Ilium; whose approach      Marking from Pergamus, Apollo flew      To meet her, ardent on the part of Troy.      Beneath the beech they join'd, when first the King,      The son of Jove, Apollo thus began.      Daughter of Jove supreme! why hast thou left      Olympus, and with such impetuous speed?      Comest thou to give the Dana success      Decisive? For I know that pity none      Thou feel'st for Trojans, perish as they may      But if advice of mine can influence thee      To that which shall be best, let us compose      This day the furious fight which shall again      Hereafter rage, till Ilium be destroy'd.      Since such is Juno's pleasure and thy own.      Him answer'd then Pallas crulean-eyed.      Celestial archer! be it so. I came      Myself so purposing into the field      From the Olympian heights. But by what means      Wilt thou induce the warriors to a pause?      To whom the King, the son of Jove, replied.      The courage of equestrian Hector bold      Let us excite, that he may challenge forth      To single conflict terrible some chief      Achaian. The Achaians brazen-mail'd      Indignant, will supply a champion soon      To combat with the noble Chief of Troy.      So spake Apollo, and his counsel pleased      Minerva; which when Helenus the seer,      Priam's own son, in his prophetic soul      Perceived, approaching Hector, thus he spake.      Jove's peer in wisdom, Hector, Priam's son!      I am thy brother. Wilt thou list to me?      Bid cease the battle. Bid both armies sit.      Call first, thyself, the mightiest of the Greeks      To single conflict. I have heard the voice      Of the Eternal Gods, and well-assured      Foretell thee that thy death not now impends.      He spake, whom Hector heard with joy elate.      Before his van striding into the space      Both hosts between, he with his spear transverse[1]      Press'd back the Trojans, and they sat. Down sat      The well-greaved Grecians also at command      Of Agamemnon; and in shape assumed      Of vultures, Pallas and Apollo perch'd      High on the lofty beech sacred to Jove      The father gis-arm'd; delighted thence      They view'd the peopled plain horrent around      With shields and helms and glittering spears erect.      As when fresh-blowing Zephyrus the flood      Sweeps first, the ocean blackens at the blast,      Such seem'd the plain whereon the Achaians sat      And Trojans, whom between thus Hector spake.      Ye Trojans and Achaians brazen-greaved,      Attend while I shall speak! Jove high-enthroned      Hath not fulfill'd the truce, but evil plans      Against both hosts, till either ye shall take      Troy's lofty towers, or shall yourselves in flight      Fall vanquish'd at your billow-cleaving barks.      With you is all the flower of Greece.[2] Let him      Whose heart shall move him to encounter sole      Illustrious Hector, from among you all      Stand forth, and Jove be witness to us both.      If he, with his long-pointed lance, of life      Shall me bereave, my armor is his prize,      Which he shall hence into your fleet convey;      Not so my body; that he shall resign      For burial to the men and wives of Troy.      But if Apollo make the glory mine,      And he fall vanquish'd, him will I despoil,      And hence conveying into sacred Troy      His arms, will in the temple hang them high[3]      Of the bow-bender God, but I will send      His body to the fleet, that him the Greeks      May grace with rights funereal. On the banks      Of wide-spread Hellespont ye shall upraise      His tomb, and as they cleave with oary barks      The sable deep, posterity shall say--      "It is a warrior's tomb; in ancient days      The Hero died; him warlike Hector slew."      So men shall speak hereafter, and my fame      Who slew him, and my praise, shall never die.      He ceased, and all sat mute. His challenge bold      None dared accept, which yet they blush'd to shun,      Till Menelaus, at the last, arose      Groaning profound, and thus reproach'd the Greeks.      Ah boasters! henceforth women--men no more--      Eternal shame, shame infinite is ours,      If none of all the Grecians dares contend      With Hector. Dastards--deaf to glory's call--      Rot where ye sit! I will myself take arms      Against him, for the gods alone dispose,      At their own pleasure, the events of war.      He ended, and put on his radiant arms.      Then, Menelaus, manifest appear'd      Thy death approaching by the dreadful hands      Of Hector, mightier far in arms than thou,      But that the Chiefs of the Achaians all      Upstarting stay'd thee, and himself the King,      The son of Atreus, on thy better hand      Seizing affectionate, thee thus address'd.      Thou ravest, my royal brother! and art seized      With needless frenzy. But, however chafed,      Restrain thy wrath, nor covet to contend      With Priameian Hector, whom in fight      All dread, a warrior thy superior far.      Not even Achilles, in the glorious field      (Though stronger far than thou) this hero meets      Undaunted. Go then, and thy seat resume      In thy own band; the Achaians shall for him,      Doubtless, some fitter champion furnish forth.      Brave though he be, and with the toils of war      Insatiable, he shall be willing yet,      Seated on his bent knees, to breathe a while,      Should he escape the arduous brunt severe.      So saying, the hero by his counsel wise      His brother's purpose alter'd; he complied,      And his glad servants eased him of his arms.      Then Nestor thus the Argive host bespake.      Great wo, ye Gods! hath on Achaia fallen.      Now may the warlike Pelaus, hoary Chief,      Who both with eloquence and wisdom rules      The Myrmidons, our foul disgrace deplore.      With him discoursing, erst, of ancient times,      When all your pedigrees I traced, I made      His heart bound in him at the proud report.      But now, when he shall learn how here we sat      Cowering at the foot of Hector, he shall oft      His hands uplift to the immortal Gods,      Praying a swift release into the shades.      Jove! Pallas! Phoebus! Oh that I were young      As when the Pylians in fierce fight engaged      The Arcadians spear-expert, beside the stream      Of rapid Celadon! Beneath the walls      We fought of Pheia, where the Jardan rolls.      There Ereuthalion, Chief of godlike form,      Stood forth before his van, and with loud voice      Defied the Pylians. Arm'd he was in steel      By royal Arethous whilom worn;      Brave Arethous, Corynetes[4] named      By every tongue; for that in bow and spear      Nought trusted he, but with an iron mace      The close-embattled phalanx shatter'd wide.      Him by address, not by superior force,      Lycurgus vanquish'd, in a narrow pass,      Where him his iron whirl-bat[5] nought avail'd.      Lycurgus stealing on him, with his lance      Transpierced and fix'd him to the soil supine.      Him of his arms, bright gift of brazen Mars,      He stripp'd, which after, in the embattled field      Lycurgus wore himself, but, growing old,      Surrender'd them to Ereuthalion's use      His armor-bearer, high in his esteem,      And Ereuthalion wore them on the day      When he defied our best. All hung their heads      And trembled; none dared meet him; till at last      With inborn courage warm'd, and nought dismayed,      Though youngest of them all, I undertook      That contest, and, by Pallas' aid, prevail'd.      I slew the man in height and bulk all men      Surpassing, and much soil he cover'd slain.      Oh for the vigor of those better days!      Then should not Hector want a champion long,      Whose call to combat, ye, although the prime      And pride of all our land, seem slow to hear.      He spake reproachful, when at once arose      Nine heroes. Agamemnon, King of men,      Foremost arose; then Tydeus' mighty son,      With either Ajax in fierce prowess clad;      The Cretan next, Idomeneus, with whom      Uprose Meriones his friend approved,      Terrible as the man-destroyer Mars.      Evmon's noble offspring next appear'd      Eurypylus; Andrmon's son the next      Thoas; and last, Ulysses, glorious Chief.      All these stood ready to engage in arms      With warlike Hector, when the ancient King,      Gerenian Nestor, thus his speech resumed.      Now cast the lot for all. Who wins the chance      Shall yield Achaia service, and himself      Serve also, if successful he escape      This brunt of hostile hardiment severe.      So Nestor. They, inscribing each his lot,      Into the helmet cast it of the son      Of Atreus, Agamemnon. Then the host      Pray'd all, their hands uplifting, and with eyes      To the wide heavens directed, many said[6]--      Eternal sire! choose Ajax, or the son      Of Tydeus, or the King himself[7] who sways      The sceptre in Mycen wealth-renown'd!      Such prayer the people made; then Nestor shook      The helmet, and forth leaped, whose most they wished,      The lot of Ajax. Throughout all the host      To every chief and potentate of Greece,      From right to left the herald bore the lot      By all disown'd; but when at length he reach'd      The inscriber of the lot, who cast it in,      Illustrious Ajax, in his open palm      The herald placed it, standing at his side.      He, conscious, with heroic joy the lot      Cast at his foot, and thus exclaim'd aloud.      My friends! the lot is mine,[8] and my own heart      Rejoices also; for I nothing doubt      That noble Hector shall be foil'd by me.      But while I put mine armor on, pray all      In silence to the King Saturnian Jove,      Lest, while ye pray, the Trojans overhear.      Or pray aloud, for whom have we to dread?      No man shall my firm standing by his strength      Unsettle, or for ignorance of mine      Me vanquish, who, I hope, brought forth and train'd      In Salamis, have, now, not much to learn.      He ended. They with heaven-directed eyes      The King in prayer address'd, Saturnian Jove.      Jove! glorious father! who from Ida's height      Controlest all below, let Ajax prove      Victorious; make the honor all his own!      Or, if not less than Ajax, Hector share      Thy love and thy regard, divide the prize      Of glory, and let each achieve renown!      Then Ajax put his radiant armor on,      And, arm'd complete, rush'd forward. As huge Mars      To battle moves the sons of men between      Whom Jove with heart-devouring thirst inspires      Of war, so moved huge Ajax to the fight,      Tower of the Greeks, dilating with a smile      His martial features terrible; on feet,      Firm-planted, to the combat he advanced      Stride after stride, and shook his quivering spear.      Him viewing, Argos' universal host      Exulted, while a panic loosed the knees      Of every Trojan; even Hector's heart      Beat double, but escape for him remain'd      None now, or to retreat into his ranks      Again, from whom himself had challenged forth.      Ajax advancing like a tower his shield      Sevenfold, approach'd. It was the labor'd work      Of Tychius, armorer of matchless skill,      Who dwelt in Hyla; coated with the hides      Of seven high-pamper'd bulls that shield he framed      For Ajax, and the disk plated with brass.      Advancing it before his breast, the son      Of Telamon approach'd the Trojan Chief,      And face to face, him threatening, thus began.      Now, Hector, prove, by me alone opposed,      What Chiefs the Dana can furnish forth      In absence of the lion-hearted prince      Achilles, breaker of the ranks of war.      He, in his billow-cleaving barks incensed      Against our leader Agamemnon, lies;      But warriors of my measure, who may serve      To cope with thee, we want not; numerous such      Are found amongst us. But begin the fight.      To whom majestic Hector fierce in arms.      Ajax! heroic leader of the Greeks!      Offspring of Telamon! essay not me      With words to terrify, as I were boy.      Or girl unskill'd in war;[9] I am a man      Well exercised in battle, who have shed      The blood of many a warrior, and have learn'd,      From hand to hand shifting my shield, to fight      Unwearied; I can make a sport of war,      In standing fight adjusting all my steps      To martial measures sweet, or vaulting light      Into my chariot, thence can urge the foe.      Yet in contention with a Chief like thee      I will employ no stratagem, or seek      To smite thee privily, but with a stroke      (If I may reach thee) visible to all.      So saying, he shook, then hurl'd his massy spear      At Ajax, and his broad shield sevenfold      On its eighth surface of resplendent brass      Smote full; six hides the unblunted weapon pierced,      But in the seventh stood rooted. Ajax, next,      Heroic Chief, hurl'd his long shadow'd spear      And struck the oval shield of Priam's son.      Through his bright disk the weapon tempest-driven      Glided, and in his hauberk-rings infixt      At his soft flank, ripp'd wide his vest within.      Inclined oblique he 'scaped the dreadful doom      Then each from other's shield his massy spear      Recovering quick, like lions hunger-pinch'd      Or wild boars irresistible in force,      They fell to close encounter. Priam's son      The shield of Ajax at its centre smote,      But fail'd to pierce it, for he bent his point.      Sprang Ajax then, and meeting full the targe      Of Hector, shock'd him; through it and beyond      He urged the weapon with its sliding edge      Athwart his neck, and blood was seen to start.      But still, for no such cause, from battle ceased      Crest-tossing Hector, but retiring, seized      A huge stone angled sharp and black with age      That on the champain lay. The bull-hide guard      Sevenfold of Ajax with that stone he smote      Full on its centre; sang the circling brass.      Then Ajax far a heavier stone upheaved;      He whirled it, and with might immeasurable      Dismiss'd the mass, which with a mill-stone weight      Sank through the shield of Hector, and his knees      Disabled; with his shield supine he fell,      But by Apollo raised, stood soon again.      And now, with swords they had each other hewn,      Had not the messengers of Gods and men      The heralds wise, Idus on the part      Of Ilium, and Talthybius for the Greeks,      Advancing interposed. His sceptre each      Between them held, and thus Idus spake.[10]      My children, cease! prolong not still the fight.      Ye both are dear to cloud-assembler Jove,      Both valiant, and all know it. But the Night      Hath fallen, and Night's command must be obeyed.      To him the son of Telamon replied.      Idus! bid thy master speak as thou.      He is the challenger. If such his choice,      Mine differs not; I wait but to comply.      Him answer'd then heroic Hector huge.      Since, Ajax, the immortal powers on thee      Have bulk pre-eminent and strength bestow'd,      With such address in battle, that the host      Of Greece hath not thine equal at the spear,      Now let the combat cease. We shall not want      More fair occasion; on some future day      We will not part till all-disposing heaven      Shall give thee victory, or shall make her mine.      But Night hath fallen, and Night must be obey'd,      That them may'st gratify with thy return      The Achaians, and especially thy friends      And thy own countrymen. I go, no less      To exhilarate in Priam's royal town      Men and robed matrons, who shall seek the Gods      For me, with pious ceremonial due.      But come. We will exchange, or ere we part,      Some princely gift, that Greece and Troy may say      Hereafter, with soul-wasting rage they fought,      But parted with the gentleness of friends.      So saying, he with his sheath and belt a sword      Presented bright-emboss'd, and a bright belt      Purpureal[11] took from Ajax in return.      Thus separated, one the Grecians sought,      And one the Trojans; they when him they saw      From the unconquer'd hands return'd alive      Of Ajax, with delight their Chief received,      And to the city led him, double joy      Conceiving all at his unhoped escape.      On the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail'd      To noble Agamemnon introduced      Exulting Ajax, and the King of men      In honor of the conqueror slew an ox      Of the fifth year to Jove omnipotent.      Him flaying first, they carved him next and spread      The whole abroad, then, scoring deep the flesh,      They pierced it with the spits, and from the spits      (Once roasted well) withdrew it all again.      Their labor thus accomplish'd, and the board      Furnish'd with plenteous cheer, they feasted all      Till all were satisfied; nor Ajax miss'd      The conqueror's meed, to whom the hero-king      Wide-ruling Agamemnon, gave the chine[12]      Perpetual,[13] his distinguish'd portion due.      The calls of hunger and of thirst at length      Both well sufficed, thus, foremost of them all      The ancient Nestor, whose advice had oft      Proved salutary, prudent thus began.      Chiefs of Achaia, and thou, chief of all,      Great Agamemnon! Many of our host      Lie slain, whose blood sprinkles, in battle shed,      The banks of smooth Scamander, and their souls      Have journey'd down into the realms of death.      To-morrow, therefore, let the battle pause      As need requires, and at the peep of day      With mules and oxen, wheel ye from all parts      The dead, that we may burn them near the fleet.      So, home to Greece returning, will we give      The fathers' ashes to the children's care.      Accumulating next, the pile around,      One common tomb for all, with brisk dispatch      We will upbuild for more secure defence      Of us and of our fleet, strong towers and tall      Adjoining to the tomb, and every tower      Shall have its ponderous gate, commodious pass      Affording to the mounted charioteer.      And last, without those towers and at their foot,      Dig we a trench, which compassing around      Our camp, both steeds and warriors shall exclude,      And all fierce inroad of the haughty foe.      So counsell'd he, whom every Chief approved.      In Troy meantime, at Priam's gate beside      The lofty citadel, debate began      The assembled senators between, confused,      Clamorous, and with furious heat pursued,      When them Antenor, prudent, thus bespake.      Ye Trojans, Dardans, and allies of Troy,      My counsel hear! Delay not. Instant yield      To the Atrid, hence to be convey'd,      Helen of Greece with all that is her own.      For charged with violated oaths we fight,      And hope I none conceive that aught by us      Design'd shall prosper, unless so be done.      He spake and sat; when from his seat arose      Paris, fair Helen's noble paramour,      Who thus with speech impassion'd quick replied.      Antenor! me thy counsel hath not pleased;      Thou could'st have framed far better; but if this      Be thy deliberate judgment, then the Gods      Make thy deliberate judgment nothing worth.      But I will speak myself. Ye Chiefs of Troy,      I tell you plain. I will not yield my spouse.      But all her treasures to our house convey'd      From Argos, those will I resign, and add      Still other compensation from my own.      Thus Paris said and sat; when like the Gods      Themselves in wisdom, from his seat uprose      Dardanian Priam, who them thus address'd.      Trojans, Dardanians, and allies of Troy!      I shall declare my sentence; hear ye me.      Now let the legions, as at other times,      Take due refreshment; let the watch be set,      And keep ye vigilant guard. At early dawn      We will dispatch Idus to the fleet,      Who shall inform the Atrid of this last      Resolve of Paris, author of the war.      Discreet Idus also shall propose      A respite (if the Atrid so incline)      From war's dread clamor, while we burn the dead.      Then will we clash again, till heaven at length      Shall part us, and the doubtful strife decide.      He ceased, whose voice the assembly pleased, obey'd.      Then, troop by troop, the army took repast,      And at the dawn Idus sought the fleet.      He found the Dana, servants of Mars,      Beside the stern of Agamemnon's ship      Consulting; and amid the assembled Chiefs      Arrived, with utterance clear them thus address'd.      Ye sons of Atreus, and ye Chiefs, the flower      Of all Achaia! Priam and the Chiefs      Of Ilium, bade me to your ear impart      (If chance such embassy might please your ear)      The mind of Paris, author of the war.      The treasures which on board his ships he brought      From Argos home (oh, had he perish'd first!)      He yields them with addition from his own.      Not so the consort of the glorious prince      Brave Menelaus; her (although in Troy      All counsel otherwise) he still detains.      Thus too I have in charge. Are ye inclined      That the dread sounding clamors of the field      Be caused to cease till we shall burn the dead?      Then will we clash again, 'till heaven at length      Shall part us, and the doubtful strife decide.      So spake Idus, and all silent sat;      Till at the last brave Diomede replied.      No. We will none of Paris' treasures now,      Nor even Helen's self. A child may see      Destruction winging swift her course to Troy.      He said. The admiring Greeks with loud applause      All praised the speech of warlike Diomede,      And answer thus the King of men return'd.      Idus! thou hast witness'd the resolve      Of the Achaian Chiefs, whose choice is mine.      But for the slain, I shall not envy them      A funeral pile; the spirit fled, delay      Suits not. Last rites can not too soon be paid.      Burn them. And let high-thundering Jove attest      Himself mine oath, that war shall cease the while.      So saying, he to all the Gods upraised      His sceptre, and Idus homeward sped      To sacred Ilium. The Dardanians there      And Trojans, all assembled, his return      Expected anxious. He amid them told      Distinct his errand, when, at once dissolved,      The whole assembly rose, these to collect      The scatter'd bodies, those to gather wood;      While on the other side, the Greeks arose      As sudden, and all issuing from the fleet      Sought fuel, some, and some, the scatter'd dead.      Now from the gently-swelling flood profound      The sun arising, with his earliest rays      In his ascent to heaven smote on the fields.      When Greeks and Trojans met. Scarce could the slain      Be clear distinguish'd, but they cleansed from each      His clotted gore with water, and warm tears      Distilling copious, heaved them to the wains.      But wailing none was heard, for such command      Had Priam issued; therefore heaping high      The bodies, silent and with sorrowing hearts      They burn'd them, and to sacred Troy return'd.      The Grecians also, on the funeral pile      The bodies heaping sad, burn'd them with fire      Together, and return'd into the fleet.      Then, ere the peep of dawn, and while the veil      Of night, though thinner, still o'erhung the earth,      Achaians, chosen from the rest, the pile      Encompass'd. With a tomb (one tomb for all)      They crown'd the spot adust, and to the tomb      (For safety of their fleet and of themselves)      Strong fortress added of high wall and tower,      With solid gates affording egress thence      Commodious to the mounted charioteer;      Deep foss and broad they also dug without,      And planted it with piles. So toil'd the Greeks.      The Gods, that mighty labor, from beside      The Thunderer's throne with admiration view'd,      When Neptune, shaker of the shores, began.      Eternal father! is there on the face      Of all the boundless earth one mortal man      Who will, in times to come, consult with heaven?      See'st thou yon height of wall, and yon deep trench      With which the Grecians have their fleet inclosed,      And, careless of our blessing, hecatomb      Or invocation have presented none?      Far as the day-spring shoots herself abroad,      So far the glory of this work shall spread,      While Phoebus and myself, who, toiling hard,      Built walls for king Laomedon, shall see      Forgotten all the labor of our hands.      To whom, indignant, thus high-thundering Jove.      Oh thou, who shakest the solid earth at will,      What hast thou spoken? An inferior power,      A god of less sufficiency than thou,      Might be allowed some fear from such a cause.      Fear not. Where'er the morning shoots her beams,      Thy glory shall be known; and when the Greeks      Shall seek their country through the waves again,      Then break this bulwark down, submerge it whole,      And spreading deep with sand the spacious shore      As at the first, leave not a trace behind.      Such conference held the Gods; and now the sun      Went down, and, that great work perform'd, the Greeks      From tent to tent slaughter'd the fatted ox      And ate their evening cheer. Meantime arrived      Large fleet with Lemnian wine; Euneus, son      Of Jason and Hypsipile, that fleet      From Lemnos freighted, and had stow'd on board      A thousand measures from the rest apart      For the Atrid; but the host at large      By traffic were supplied; some barter'd brass,      Others bright steel; some purchased wine with hides,      These with their cattle, with their captives those,      And the whole host prepared a glad regale.      All night the Grecians feasted, and the host      Of Ilium, and all night deep-planning Jove      Portended dire calamities to both,      Thundering tremendous!--Pale was every cheek;      Each pour'd his goblet on the ground, nor dared      The hardiest drink, 'till he had first perform'd      Libation meet to the Saturnian King      Omnipotent; then, all retiring, sought      Their couches, and partook the gift of sleep.