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The Iliad Part 10

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Divine aeneas brings the Dardan race, Anchises' son, by Venus' stolen embrace, Born in the shades of Ida's secret grove; (A mortal mixing with the queen of love;) Archilochus and Acamas divide The warrior's toils, and combat by his side.

Who fair Zeleia's wealthy valleys till,(106) Fast by the foot of Ida's sacred hill, Or drink, aesepus, of thy sable flood, Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood; To whom his art Apollo deign'd to show, Graced with the presents of his shafts and bow.

From rich Apaesus and Adrestia's towers, High Teree's summits, and Pityea's bowers; From these the congregated troops obey Young Amphius and Adrastus' equal sway; Old Merops' sons; whom, skill'd in fates to come, The sire forewarn'd, and prophesied their doom: Fate urged them on! the sire forewarn'd in vain, They rush'd to war, and perish'd on the plain.

From Practius' stream, Percote's pasture lands, And Sestos and Abydos' neighbouring strands, From great Arisba's walls and Selle's coast, Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host: High on his car he shakes the flowing reins, His fiery coursers thunder o'er the plains.

The fierce Pelasgi next, in war renown'd, March from Larissa's ever-fertile ground: In equal arms their brother leaders s.h.i.+ne, Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine.

Next Acamas and Pyrous lead their hosts, In dread array, from Thracia's wintry coasts; Round the bleak realms where h.e.l.lespontus roars, And Boreas beats the hoa.r.s.e-resounding sh.o.r.es.

With great Euphemus the Ciconians move, Sprung from Troezenian Ceus, loved by Jove.

Pyraechmes the Paeonian troops attend, Skill'd in the fight their crooked bows to bend; From Axius' ample bed he leads them on, Axius, that laves the distant Amydon, Axius, that swells with all his neighbouring rills, And wide around the floating region fills.

The Paphlagonians Pylaemenes rules, Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules, Where Erythinus' rising cliffs are seen, Thy groves of box, Cytorus! ever green, And where aegialus and Cromna lie, And lofty Sesamus invades the sky, And where Parthenius, roll'd through banks of flowers, Reflects her bordering palaces and bowers.

Here march'd in arms the Halizonian band, Whom Odius and Epistrophus command, From those far regions where the sun refines The ripening silver in Alybean mines.

There mighty Chromis led the Mysian train, And augur Ennomus, inspired in vain; For stern Achilles lopp'd his sacred head, Roll'd down Scamander with the vulgar dead.

Phorcys and brave Ascanius here unite The Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the fight.

Of those who round Maeonia's realms reside, Or whom the vales in shades of Tmolus hide, Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake, Born on the banks of Gyges' silent lake.

There, from the fields where wild Maeander flows, High Mycale, and Latmos' shady brows, And proud Miletus, came the Carian throngs, With mingled clamours and with barbarous tongues.(107) Amphimachus and Naustes guide the train, Naustes the bold, Amphimachus the vain, Who, trick'd with gold, and glittering on his car, Rode like a woman to the field of war.

Fool that he was! by fierce Achilles slain, The river swept him to the briny main: There whelm'd with waves the gaudy warrior lies The valiant victor seized the golden prize.

The forces last in fair array succeed, Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields, Where gulfy Xanthus foams along the fields.

BOOK III.

ARGUMENT.

THE DUEL OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.

The armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon between Menelaus and Paris (by the intervention of Hector) for the determination of the war. Iris is sent to call Helen to behold the fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam sat with his counsellers observing the Grecian leaders on the plain below, to whom Helen gives an account of the chief of them. The kings on either part take the solemn oath for the conditions of the combat. The duel ensues; wherein Paris being overcome, he is s.n.a.t.c.hed away in a cloud by Venus, and transported to his apartment.

She then calls Helen from the walls, and brings the lovers together.

Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians, demands the restoration of Helen, and the performance of the articles.

The three-and-twentieth day still continues throughout this book. The scene is sometimes in the fields before Troy, and sometimes in Troy itself.

Thus by their leaders' care each martial band Moves into ranks, and stretches o'er the land.

With shouts the Trojans, rus.h.i.+ng from afar, Proclaim their motions, and provoke the war So when inclement winters vex the plain With piercing frosts, or thick-descending rain, To warmer seas the cranes embodied fly,(108) With noise, and order, through the midway sky; To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring, And all the war descends upon the wing, But silent, breathing rage, resolved and skill'd(109) By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field, Swift march the Greeks: the rapid dust around Darkening arises from the labour'd ground.

Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds A night of vapours round the mountain heads, Swift-gliding mists the dusky fields invade, To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade; While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey, Lost and confused amidst the thicken'd day: So wrapp'd in gathering dust, the Grecian train, A moving cloud, swept on, and hid the plain.

Now front to front the hostile armies stand, Eager of fight, and only wait command; When, to the van, before the sons of fame Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came: In form a G.o.d! the panther's speckled hide Flow'd o'er his armour with an easy pride: His bended bow across his shoulders flung, His sword beside him negligently hung; Two pointed spears he shook with gallant grace, And dared the bravest of the Grecian race.

As thus, with glorious air and proud disdain, He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain, Him Menelaus, loved of Mars, espies, With heart elated, and with joyful eyes: So joys a lion, if the branching deer, Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear; Eager he seizes and devours the slain, Press'd by bold youths and baying dogs in vain.

Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound, In clanging arms he leaps upon the ground From his high chariot: him, approaching near, The beauteous champion views with marks of fear, Smit with a conscious sense, retires behind, And shuns the fate he well deserved to find.

As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees(110) Shot forth to view, a scaly serpent sees, Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright And all confused precipitates his flight: So from the king the s.h.i.+ning warrior flies, And plunged amid the thickest Trojans lies.

As G.o.dlike Hector sees the prince retreat, He thus upbraids him with a generous heat: "Unhappy Paris! but to women brave!(111) So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!

Oh, hadst thou died when first thou saw'st the light, Or died at least before thy nuptial rite!

A better fate than vainly thus to boast, And fly, the scandal of thy Trojan host.

G.o.ds! how the scornful Greeks exult to see Their fears of danger undeceived in thee!

Thy figure promised with a martial air, But ill thy soul supplies a form so fair.

In former days, in all thy gallant pride, When thy tall s.h.i.+ps triumphant stemm'd the tide, When Greece beheld thy painted canvas flow, And crowds stood wondering at the pa.s.sing show, Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien, You met the approaches of the Spartan queen, Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize, And both her warlike lords outs.h.i.+ned in Helen's eyes?

This deed, thy foes' delight, thy own disgrace, Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race; This deed recalls thee to the proffer'd fight; Or hast thou injured whom thou dar'st not right?

Soon to thy cost the field would make thee know Thou keep'st the consort of a braver foe.

Thy graceful form instilling soft desire, Thy curling tresses, and thy silver lyre, Beauty and youth; in vain to these you trust, When youth and beauty shall be laid in dust: Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow Crush the dire author of his country's woe."

His silence here, with blushes, Paris breaks: "'Tis just, my brother, what your anger speaks: But who like thee can boast a soul sedate, So firmly proof to all the shocks of fate?

Thy force, like steel, a temper'd hardness shows, Still edged to wound, and still untired with blows, Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain, With falling woods to strew the wasted plain.

Thy gifts I praise; nor thou despise the charms With which a lover golden Venus arms; Soft moving speech, and pleasing outward show, No wish can gain them, but the G.o.ds bestow.

Yet, would'st thou have the proffer'd combat stand, The Greeks and Trojans seat on either hand; Then let a midway s.p.a.ce our hosts divide, And, on that stage of war, the cause be tried: By Paris there the Spartan king be fought, For beauteous Helen and the wealth she brought; And who his rival can in arms subdue, His be the fair, and his the treasure too.

Thus with a lasting league your toils may cease, And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace; Thus may the Greeks review their native sh.o.r.e, Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more."

He said. The challenge Hector heard with joy, Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy, Held by the midst, athwart; and near the foe Advanced with steps majestically slow: While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour Their stones and arrows in a mingled shower.

Then thus the monarch, great Atrides, cried: "Forbear, ye warriors! lay the darts aside: A parley Hector asks, a message bears; We know him by the various plume he wears."

Awed by his high command the Greeks attend, The tumult silence, and the fight suspend.

While from the centre Hector rolls his eyes On either host, and thus to both applies: "Hear, all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian bands, What Paris, author of the war, demands.

Your s.h.i.+ning swords within the sheath restrain, And pitch your lances in the yielding plain.

Here in the midst, in either army's sight, He dares the Spartan king to single fight; And wills that Helen and the ravish'd spoil, That caused the contest, shall reward the toil.

Let these the brave triumphant victor grace, And different nations part in leagues of peace."

He spoke: in still suspense on either side Each army stood: the Spartan chief replied:

"Me too, ye warriors, hear, whose fatal right A world engages in the toils of fight.

To me the labour of the field resign; Me Paris injured; all the war be mine.

Fall he that must, beneath his rival's arms; And live the rest, secure of future harms.

Two lambs, devoted by your country's rite, To earth a sable, to the sun a white, Prepare, ye Trojans! while a third we bring Select to Jove, the inviolable king.

Let reverend Priam in the truce engage, And add the sanction of considerate age; His sons are faithless, headlong in debate, And youth itself an empty wavering state; Cool age advances, venerably wise, Turns on all hands its deep-discerning eyes; Sees what befell, and what may yet befall, Concludes from both, and best provides for all.

The nations hear with rising hopes possess'd, And peaceful prospects dawn in every breast.

Within the lines they drew their steeds around, And from their chariots issued on the ground; Next, all unbuckling the rich mail they wore, Laid their bright arms along the sable sh.o.r.e.

On either side the meeting hosts are seen With lances fix'd, and close the s.p.a.ce between.

Two heralds now, despatch'd to Troy, invite The Phrygian monarch to the peaceful rite.

Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring The lamb for Jove, the inviolable king.

Meantime to beauteous Helen, from the skies The various G.o.ddess of the rainbow flies: (Like fair Laodice in form and face, The loveliest nymph of Priam's royal race:) Her in the palace, at her loom she found; The golden web her own sad story crown'd, The Trojan wars she weaved (herself the prize) And the dire triumphs of her fatal eyes.

To whom the G.o.ddess of the painted bow: "Approach, and view the wondrous scene below!(112) Each hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight, So dreadful late, and furious for the fight, Now rest their spears, or lean upon their s.h.i.+elds; Ceased is the war, and silent all the fields.

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