The Iliad Part 4
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At this, Pelides, frowning stern, replied: "O tyrant, arm'd with insolence and pride!
Inglorious slave to interest, ever join'd With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind!
What generous Greek, obedient to thy word, Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword?
What cause have I to war at thy decree?
The distant Trojans never injured me; To Phthia's realms no hostile troops they led: Safe in her vales my warlike coursers fed; Far hence removed, the hoa.r.s.e-resounding main, And walls of rocks, secure my native reign, Whose fruitful soil luxuriant harvests grace, Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race.
Hither we sail'd, a voluntary throng, To avenge a private, not a public wrong: What else to Troy the a.s.sembled nations draws, But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother's cause?
Is this the pay our blood and toils deserve; Disgraced and injured by the man we serve?
And darest thou threat to s.n.a.t.c.h my prize away, Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day?
A prize as small, O tyrant! match'd with thine, As thy own actions if compared to mine.
Thine in each conquest is the wealthy prey, Though mine the sweat and danger of the day.
Some trivial present to my s.h.i.+ps I bear: Or barren praises pay the wounds of war.
But know, proud monarch, I'm thy slave no more; My fleet shall waft me to Thessalia's sh.o.r.e: Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain, What spoils, what conquests, shall Atrides gain?"
To this the king: "Fly, mighty warrior! fly; Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy.
There want not chiefs in such a cause to fight, And Jove himself shall guard a monarch's right.
Of all the kings (the G.o.d's distinguish'd care) To power superior none such hatred bear: Strife and debate thy restless soul employ, And wars and horrors are thy savage joy, If thou hast strength, 'twas Heaven that strength bestow'd; For know, vain man! thy valour is from G.o.d.
Haste, launch thy vessels, fly with speed away; Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway; I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate Thy short-lived friends.h.i.+p, and thy groundless hate.
Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons:--but here(56) 'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear.
Know, if the G.o.d the beauteous dame demand, My bark shall waft her to her native land; But then prepare, imperious prince! prepare, Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair: Even in thy tent I'll seize the blooming prize, Thy loved Briseis with the radiant eyes.
Hence shalt thou prove my might, and curse the hour Thou stood'st a rival of imperial power; And hence, to all our hosts it shall be known, That kings are subject to the G.o.ds alone."
Achilles heard, with grief and rage oppress'd, His heart swell'd high, and labour'd in his breast; Distracting thoughts by turns his bosom ruled; Now fired by wrath, and now by reason cool'd: That prompts his hand to draw the deadly sword, Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty lord; This whispers soft his vengeance to control, And calm the rising tempest of his soul.
Just as in anguish of suspense he stay'd, While half unsheathed appear'd the glittering blade,(57) Minerva swift descended from above, Sent by the sister and the wife of Jove (For both the princes claim'd her equal care); Behind she stood, and by the golden hair Achilles seized; to him alone confess'd; A sable cloud conceal'd her from the rest.
He sees, and sudden to the G.o.ddess cries, Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes:
[Ill.u.s.tration: MINERVA REPRESSING THE FURY OF ACHILLES.]
MINERVA REPRESSING THE FURY OF ACHILLES.
"Descends Minerva, in her guardian care, A heavenly witness of the wrongs I bear From Atreus' son?--Then let those eyes that view The daring crime, behold the vengeance too."
"Forbear (the progeny of Jove replies) To calm thy fury I forsake the skies: Let great Achilles, to the G.o.ds resign'd, To reason yield the empire o'er his mind.
By awful Juno this command is given; The king and you are both the care of heaven.
The force of keen reproaches let him feel; But sheathe, obedient, thy revenging steel.
For I p.r.o.nounce (and trust a heavenly power) Thy injured honour has its fated hour, When the proud monarch shall thy arms implores And bribe thy friends.h.i.+p with a boundless store.
Then let revenge no longer bear the sway; Command thy pa.s.sions, and the G.o.ds obey."
To her Pelides:--"With regardful ear, 'Tis just, O G.o.ddess! I thy dictates hear.
Hard as it is, my vengeance I suppress: Those who revere the G.o.ds the G.o.ds will bless."
He said, observant of the blue-eyed maid; Then in the sheath return'd the s.h.i.+ning blade.
The G.o.ddess swift to high Olympus flies, And joins the sacred senate of the skies.
Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forsook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke: "O monster! mix'd of insolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer!
When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare, Or n.o.bly face the horrid front of war?
'Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try; Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die: So much 'tis safer through the camp to go, And rob a subject, than despoil a foe.
Scourge of thy people, violent and base!
Sent in Jove's anger on a slavish race; Who, lost to sense of generous freedom past, Are tamed to wrongs;--or this had been thy last.
Now by this sacred sceptre hear me swear, Which never more shall leaves or blossoms bear, Which sever'd from the trunk (as I from thee) On the bare mountains left its parent tree; This sceptre, form'd by temper'd steel to prove An ensign of the delegates of Jove, From whom the power of laws and justice springs (Tremendous oath! inviolate to kings); By this I swear:--when bleeding Greece again Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain.
When, flush'd with slaughter, Hector comes to spread The purpled sh.o.r.e with mountains of the dead, Then shall thou mourn the affront thy madness gave, Forced to deplore when impotent to save: Then rage in bitterness of soul to know This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe."
He spoke; and furious hurl'd against the ground His sceptre starr'd with golden studs around: Then sternly silent sat. With like disdain The raging king return'd his frowns again.
To calm their pa.s.sion with the words of age, Slow from his seat arose the Pylian sage, Experienced Nestor, in persuasion skill'd; Words, sweet as honey, from his lips distill'd:(58) Two generations now had pa.s.s'd away, Wise by his rules, and happy by his sway; Two ages o'er his native realm he reign'd, And now the example of the third remain'd.
All view'd with awe the venerable man; Who thus with mild benevolence began:--
"What shame, what woe is this to Greece! what joy To Troy's proud monarch, and the friends of Troy!
That adverse G.o.ds commit to stern debate The best, the bravest, of the Grecian state.
Young as ye are, this youthful heat restrain, Nor think your Nestor's years and wisdom vain.
A G.o.dlike race of heroes once I knew, Such as no more these aged eyes shall view!
Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame, Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathless name; Theseus, endued with more than mortal might, Or Polyphemus, like the G.o.ds in fight?
With these of old, to toils of battle bred, In early youth my hardy days I led; Fired with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds, And smit with love of honourable deeds, Strongest of men, they pierced the mountain boar, Ranged the wild deserts red with monsters' gore, And from their hills the s.h.a.ggy Centaurs tore: Yet these with soft persuasive arts I sway'd; When Nestor spoke, they listen'd and obey'd.
If in my youth, even these esteem'd me wise; Do you, young warriors, hear my age advise.
Atrides, seize not on the beauteous slave; That prize the Greeks by common suffrage gave: Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride; Let kings be just, and sovereign power preside.
Thee, the first honours of the war adorn, Like G.o.ds in strength, and of a G.o.ddess born; Him, awful majesty exalts above The powers of earth, and sceptred sons of Jove.
Let both unite with well-consenting mind, So shall authority with strength be join'd.
Leave me, O king! to calm Achilles' rage; Rule thou thyself, as more advanced in age.
Forbid it, G.o.ds! Achilles should be lost, The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host."
This said, he ceased. The king of men replies: "Thy years are awful, and thy words are wise.
But that imperious, that unconquer'd soul, No laws can limit, no respect control.
Before his pride must his superiors fall; His word the law, and he the lord of all?
Him must our hosts, our chiefs, ourself obey?
What king can bear a rival in his sway?
Grant that the G.o.ds his matchless force have given; Has foul reproach a privilege from heaven?"
Here on the monarch's speech Achilles broke, And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke: "Tyrant, I well deserved thy galling chain, To live thy slave, and still to serve in vain, Should I submit to each unjust decree:-- Command thy va.s.sals, but command not me.
Seize on Briseis, whom the Grecians doom'd My prize of war, yet tamely see resumed; And seize secure; no more Achilles draws His conquering sword in any woman's cause.
The G.o.ds command me to forgive the past: But let this first invasion be the last: For know, thy blood, when next thou darest invade, Shall stream in vengeance on my reeking blade."
At this they ceased: the stern debate expired: The chiefs in sullen majesty retired.
Achilles with Patroclus took his way Where near his tents his hollow vessels lay.
Meantime Atrides launch'd with numerous oars A well-rigg'd s.h.i.+p for Chrysa's sacred sh.o.r.es: High on the deck was fair Chryseis placed, And sage Ulysses with the conduct graced: Safe in her sides the hecatomb they stow'd, Then swiftly sailing, cut the liquid road.
The host to expiate next the king prepares, With pure l.u.s.trations, and with solemn prayers.
Wash'd by the briny wave, the pious train(59) Are cleansed; and cast the ablutions in the main.
Along the sh.o.r.e whole hecatombs were laid, And bulls and goats to Phoebus' altars paid; The sable fumes in curling spires arise, And waft their grateful odours to the skies.
The army thus in sacred rites engaged, Atrides still with deep resentment raged.
To wait his will two sacred heralds stood, Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
"Haste to the fierce Achilles' tent (he cries), Thence bear Briseis as our royal prize: Submit he must; or if they will not part, Ourself in arms shall tear her from his heart."
The unwilling heralds act their lord's commands; Pensive they walk along the barren sands: Arrived, the hero in his tent they find, With gloomy aspect on his arm reclined.
At awful distance long they silent stand, Loth to advance, and speak their hard command; Decent confusion! This the G.o.dlike man Perceived, and thus with accent mild began:
"With leave and honour enter our abodes, Ye sacred ministers of men and G.o.ds!(60) I know your message; by constraint you came; Not you, but your imperious lord I blame.
Patroclus, haste, the fair Briseis bring; Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
The Iliad Part 4
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The Iliad Part 4 summary
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