The Iliad Part 45

(The immortal father with a smile replies;) Then soon the haughty sea-G.o.d shall obey, Nor dare to act but when we point the way.

If truth inspires thy tongue, proclaim our will To yon bright synod on the Olympian hill; Our high decree let various Iris know, And call the G.o.d that bears the silver bow.

Let her descend, and from the embattled plain Command the sea-G.o.d to his watery reign: While Phoebus hastes great Hector to prepare To rise afresh, and once more wake the war: His labouring bosom re-inspires with breath, And calls his senses from the verge of death.

Greece chased by Troy, even to Achilles' fleet, Shall fall by thousands at the hero's feet.

He, not untouch'd with pity, to the plain Shall send Patroclus, but shall send in vain.

What youths he slaughters under Ilion's walls!

Even my loved son, divine Sarpedon, falls!

Vanquish'd at last by Hector's lance he lies.

Then, nor till then, shall great Achilles rise: And lo! that instant, G.o.dlike Hector dies.

From that great hour the war's whole fortune turns, Pallas a.s.sists, and lofty Ilion burns.

Not till that day shall Jove relax his rage, Nor one of all the heavenly host engage In aid of Greece. The promise of a G.o.d I gave, and seal'd it with the almighty nod, Achilles' glory to the stars to raise; Such was our word, and fate the word obeys."

The trembling queen (the almighty order given) Swift from the Idaean summit shot to heaven.

As some wayfaring man, who wanders o'er In thought a length of lands he trod before, Sends forth his active mind from place to place, Joins hill to dale, and measures s.p.a.ce with s.p.a.ce: So swift flew Juno to the bless'd abodes, If thought of man can match the speed of G.o.ds.

There sat the powers in awful synod placed; They bow'd, and made obeisance as she pa.s.s'd Through all the brazen dome: with goblets crown'd(239) They hail her queen; the nectar streams around.

Fair Themis first presents the golden bowl, And anxious asks what cares disturb her soul?

To whom the white-arm'd G.o.ddess thus replies: "Enough thou know'st the tyrant of the skies, Severely bent his purpose to fulfil, Unmoved his mind, and unrestrain'd his will.

Go thou, the feasts of heaven attend thy call; Bid the crown'd nectar circle round the hall: But Jove shall thunder through the ethereal dome Such stern decrees, such threaten'd woes to come, As soon shall freeze mankind with dire surprise, And damp the eternal banquets of the skies."

The G.o.ddess said, and sullen took her place; Black horror sadden'd each celestial face.

To see the gathering grudge in every breast, Smiles on her lips a spleenful joy express'd; While on her wrinkled front, and eyebrow bent, Sat stedfast care, and lowering discontent.

Thus she proceeds--"Attend, ye powers above!

But know, 'tis madness to contest with Jove: Supreme he sits; and sees, in pride of sway.

Your va.s.sal G.o.dheads grudgingly obey: Fierce in the majesty of power controls; Shakes all the thrones of heaven, and bends the poles.

Submiss, immortals! all he wills, obey: And thou, great Mars, begin and show the way.

Behold Ascalaphus! behold him die, But dare not murmur, dare not vent a sigh; Thy own loved boasted offspring lies o'erthrown, If that loved boasted offspring be thy own."

Stern Mars, with anguish for his slaughter'd son, Smote his rebelling breast, and fierce begun: "Thus then, immortals! thus shall Mars obey; Forgive me, G.o.ds, and yield my vengeance way: Descending first to yon forbidden plain, The G.o.d of battles dares avenge the slain; Dares, though the thunder bursting o'er my head Should hurl me blazing on those heaps of dead."

With that he gives command to Fear and Flight To join his rapid coursers for the fight: Then grim in arms, with hasty vengeance flies; Arms that reflect a radiance through the skies.

And now had Jove, by bold rebellion driven, Discharged his wrath on half the host of heaven; But Pallas, springing through the bright abode, Starts from her azure throne to calm the G.o.d.

Struck for the immortal race with timely fear, From frantic Mars she s.n.a.t.c.h'd the s.h.i.+eld and spear; Then the huge helmet lifting from his head, Thus to the impetuous homicide she said:

"By what wild pa.s.sion, furious! art thou toss'd?

Striv'st thou with Jove? thou art already lost.

Shall not the Thunderer's dread command restrain, And was imperial Juno heard in vain?

Back to the skies wouldst thou with shame be driven, And in thy guilt involve the host of heaven?

Ilion and Greece no more should Jove engage, The skies would yield an ampler scene of rage; Guilty and guiltless find an equal fate And one vast ruin whelm the Olympian state.

Cease then thy offspring's death unjust to call; Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.

Why should heaven's law with foolish man comply Exempted from the race ordain'd to die?"

This menace fix'd the warrior to his throne; Sullen he sat, and curb'd the rising groan.

Then Juno call'd (Jove's orders to obey) The winged Iris, and the G.o.d of day.

"Go wait the Thunderer's will (Saturnia cried) On yon tall summit of the fountful Ide: There in the father's awful presence stand, Receive, and execute his dread command."

She said, and sat; the G.o.d that gilds the day, And various Iris, wing their airy way.

Swift as the wind, to Ida's hills they came, (Fair nurse of fountains, and of savage game) There sat the eternal; he whose nod controls The trembling world, and shakes the steady poles.

Veil'd in a mist of fragrance him they found, With clouds of gold and purple circled round.

Well-pleased the Thunderer saw their earnest care, And prompt obedience to the queen of air; Then (while a smile serenes his awful brow) Commands the G.o.ddess of the showery bow:

"Iris! descend, and what we here ordain, Report to yon mad tyrant of the main.

Bid him from fight to his own deeps repair, Or breathe from slaughter in the fields of air.

If he refuse, then let him timely weigh Our elder birthright, and superior sway.

How shall his rashness stand the dire alarms, If heaven's omnipotence descend in arms?

Strives he with me, by whom his power was given, And is there equal to the lord of heaven?"

The all-mighty spoke; the G.o.ddess wing'd her flight To sacred Ilion from the Idaean height.

Swift as the rattling hail, or fleecy snows, Drive through the skies, when Boreas fiercely blows; So from the clouds descending Iris falls, And to blue Neptune thus the G.o.ddess calls:

"Attend the mandate of the sire above!

In me behold the messenger of Jove: He bids thee from forbidden wars repair To thine own deeps, or to the fields of air.

This if refused, he bids thee timely weigh His elder birthright, and superior sway.

How shall thy rashness stand the dire alarms If heaven's omnipotence descend in arms?

Striv'st thou with him by whom all power is given?

And art thou equal to the lord of heaven?"

"What means the haughty sovereign of the skies?

(The king of ocean thus, incensed, replies;) Rule as he will his portion'd realms on high; No va.s.sal G.o.d, nor of his train, am I.

Three brother deities from Saturn came, And ancient Rhea, earth's immortal dame: a.s.sign'd by lot, our triple rule we know; Infernal Pluto sways the shades below; O'er the wide clouds, and o'er the starry plain, Ethereal Jove extends his high domain; My court beneath the h.o.a.ry waves I keep, And hush the roarings of the sacred deep; Olympus, and this earth, in common lie: What claim has here the tyrant of the sky?

Far in the distant clouds let him control, And awe the younger brothers of the pole; There to his children his commands be given, The trembling, servile, second race of heaven."

"And must I then (said she), O sire of floods!

Bear this fierce answer to the king of G.o.ds?

Correct it yet, and change thy rash intent; A n.o.ble mind disdains not to repent.

To elder brothers guardian fiends are given, To scourge the wretch insulting them and heaven."

"Great is the profit (thus the G.o.d rejoin'd) When ministers are blest with prudent mind: Warn'd by thy words, to powerful Jove I yield, And quit, though angry, the contended field: Not but his threats with justice I disclaim, The same our honours, and our birth the same.

If yet, forgetful of his promise given To Hermes, Pallas, and the queen of heaven, To favour Ilion, that perfidious place, He breaks his faith with half the ethereal race; Give him to know, unless the Grecian train Lay yon proud structures level with the plain, Howe'er the offence by other G.o.ds be pa.s.s'd, The wrath of Neptune shall for ever last."

Thus speaking, furious from the field he strode, And plunged into the bosom of the flood.

The lord of thunders, from his lofty height Beheld, and thus bespoke the source of light:

"Behold! the G.o.d whose liquid arms are hurl'd Around the globe, whose earthquakes rock the world, Desists at length his rebel-war to wage, Seeks his own seas, and trembles at our rage; Else had my wrath, heaven's thrones all shaking round, Burn'd to the bottom of his seas profound; And all the G.o.ds that round old Saturn dwell Had heard the thunders to the deeps of h.e.l.l.

Well was the crime, and well the vengeance spared; Even power immense had found such battle hard.

Go thou, my son! the trembling Greeks alarm, Shake my broad aegis on thy active arm, Be G.o.dlike Hector thy peculiar care, Swell his bold heart, and urge his strength to war: Let Ilion conquer, till the Achaian train Fly to their s.h.i.+ps and h.e.l.lespont again: Then Greece shall breathe from toils." The G.o.dhead said; His will divine the son of Jove obey'd.

Not half so swift the sailing falcon flies, That drives a turtle through the liquid skies, As Phoebus, shooting from the Idaean brow, Glides down the mountain to the plain below.

There Hector seated by the stream he sees, His sense returning with the coming breeze; Again his pulses beat, his spirits rise; Again his loved companions meet his eyes; Jove thinking of his pains, they pa.s.s'd away, To whom the G.o.d who gives the golden day:

"Why sits great Hector from the field so far?

What grief, what wound, withholds thee from the war?"

The fainting hero, as the vision bright Stood s.h.i.+ning o'er him, half unseal'd his sight:

"What blest immortal, with commanding breath, Thus wakens Hector from the sleep of death?

Has fame not told, how, while my trusty sword Bathed Greece in slaughter, and her battle gored, The mighty Ajax with a deadly blow Had almost sunk me to the shades below?

Even yet, methinks, the gliding ghosts I spy, And h.e.l.l's black horrors swim before my eye."

To him Apollo: "Be no more dismay'd; See, and be strong! the Thunderer sends thee aid.

Behold! thy Phoebus shall his arms employ, Phoebus, propitious still to thee and Troy.