The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature) (41 page)

And why is my intelligence false? We all know how to fight,

And (fear disanimating none) all do our knowledge right.

Nor can our harms accuse our sloth, not one from work we miss:

The great god only works our ill, whose pleasure now it is,

That far from home, in hostile fields, and with inglorious fate,

Some Greeks should perish. But do thou, O Thoas (that of late

Hast prov’d a soldier, and was wont, where thou hast sloth beheld,

To chide it, and exhort to pains) now hate to be repell’d,

And set on all men.’ He replied, ‘I would to heav’n that he

Who ever this day doth abstain from battle willingly,

May never turn his face from Troy, but here become the prey

And scorn of dogs. Come then, take arms, and let our kind assay

Join both our forces; though but two, yet being both combin’d,

The work of many single hands we may perform; we find

That virtue co-augmented thrives in men of little mind,

But we have singly match’d the great.’ This said, the god again

(With all his conflicts) visited the vent’rous fight of men.

The king turn’d to his tent, rich arms put on his breast, and took

Two darts in hand, and forth he flew; his haste on made him look

Much like a fiery meteor, with which Jove’s sulph’ry hand

Opes heaven, and hurls about the air bright flashes, showing aland

Abodes, that ever run before tempest and plagues to men:

So, in his swift pace, show’d his arms; he was encounter’d then

By his good friend Meriones, yet near his tent, to whom

Thus spake the pow’r of Idomen: ‘What reason makes thee come,

Thou son of Molus, my most lov’d, thus leaving fight alone?

Is ’t for some wound? The javelin’s head (still sticking in the bone)

Desir’st thou ease o
f
? Bring’st thou news? Or what is it that brings

Thy presence hither? Be assur’d, my spirit needs no stings

To this hot conflict. Of myself thou seest I come, and loth

For any tent’s love to deserve the hateful taint of sloth.’

He answer’d, only for a dart he that retreat did make

(Were any left him at his tent), for that he had, he brake

On proud Deiphobus his shield. ‘Is one dart all?’ said he.

‘Take one and twenty,’ if thou like, ‘for in my tent they be.

They stand there shining by the walls: I took them as my prize

From those false Trojans I have slain. And this is not the guise

Of one that loves his tent, or fights afar off with his foe:

But since I love fight, therefore doth my martial star bestow –

Besides those darts – helms, targets boss’d, and corslets bright as day.’

‘So I,’ said Merion,‘at my tent and sable bark, may say

I many Trojan spoils retain: but now, not near they be,

To serve me for my present use; and therefore ask I thee,

Not that I lack a fortitude to store me with my own:

For ever in the foremost fights that render men renown,

I fight, when any fight doth stir, and this perhaps may well

Be hid to others, but thou know’st, and I to thee appeal.’

‘I know,’ replied the king, ‘how much thou weigh’st in every worth.

What need’st thou therefore utter this? If we should now choose forth

The worthiest men for ambushes in all our fleet and host –

For ambushes are services that try men’s virtues most,

Since there the fearful and the firm will as they are appear,

The fearful alt’ring still his hue, and rests not anywhere,

Nor is his spirit capable of th’ ambush constancy,

But riseth, changeth still his place, and croucheth curious

On his bent haunches, half his height scarce seen above the ground,

For fear to be seen, yet must see, his heart with many a bound

Of
f
’ring to leap out of his breast, and (ever fearing death)

The coldness of it makes him gnash, and half shakes out his teeth;

Where men of valour neither fear nor ever change their looks,

From lodging th’ ambush till it rise, but since there must be strokes,

Wish to be quickly in their midst – thy strength and hand in these

Who should reprove? For if far off, or fighting in the prease,

Thou shouldst be wounded, I am sure the dart that gave the wound

Should not be drawn out of thy back, or make thy neck the ground,

But meet thy belly or thy breast, in thrusting further yet

When thou art furthest, till the first, and before him thou get.

But on; like children let not us stand bragging thus, but do –

Lest some hear, and past measure chide, that we stand still and woo.

Go, choose a better dart, and make Mars yield a better chance.’

This said, Mars-swift Meriones with haste a brazen lance

Took from his tent, and overtook (most careful of the wars)

Idomeneus. And such two in field as harmful Mars

And Terror, his beloved son, that without terror fights,

And is of such strength, that in war the frighter he affrights,

When, out of Thrace, they both take arms against th’ Ephyran bands,

Or ’gainst the great-soul’d Phlegians, nor favour their own hands,

But give the grace to others still: in such sort to the fight

March’d these two managers of men, in armours full of light.

And first spake Merion: ‘On which part, son of Deucalion,

Serves thy mind to invade the fight? Is t’ best to set upon

The Trojans in our battle’s aid, the right or left-hand wing?

For all parts I suppose employ’d.’ To this the Cretan king

Thus answer’d: ‘In our navy’s midst are others that assist,

The two Ajaces, Teucer too, with shafts the expertest

Of all the Grecians, and, though small, is great in fights of stand.

And these, though huge he be of strength, will serve to fill the hand

Of Hector’s self, that Priamist, that studier for blows:

It shall be call’d a deed of height for him (ev’n suf
f
’ring throes

For knocks still) to outlabour them, and bett’ring their tough hands,

Enflame our fleet. If Jove himself cast not his firebrands

Amongst our navy, that affair no man can bring to field:

Great Ajax Telamonius to none alive will yield,

That yields to death, and whose life takes Ceres’ nutritions,

That can be cut with any iron, or pash’d with mighty stones.

Not to Aeacides himself he yields for combats set,

Though clear he must give place for pace and free swing of his feet.

Since, then, the battle (being our place of most care) is made good

By his high valour, let our aid see all pow’rs be withstood,

That charge the left wing: and to that let us direct our course,

Where quickly feel we this hot foe, or make him feel our force.’

This order’d, swift Meriones went, and forewent his king,

Till both arriv’d where one enjoin’d. When in the Greeks’ left wing

The Trojans saw the Cretan king, like fire in fortitude,

And his attendant in bright arms so gloriously indu’d,

Both cheering the sinister troops, all at the king address’d,

And so the skirmish at their sterns on both parts were increas’d –

That as from hollow bustling winds engender’d storms arise,

When dust doth chiefly clog the ways, which up into the skies

The wanton tempest ravisheth, begetting night of day:

So came together both the foes; both lusted to assay,

And work with quick steel either’s death. Man’s fierce corruptress, Fight,

Set up her bristles in the field, with lances long and light,

Which thick fell foul on either’s face: the splendour of the steel,

In new-scour’d curets, radiant casks, and burnish’d shields, did seal

Th’ assailer’s eyes up. He sustain’d a huge spirit that was glad

To see that labour, or in soul that stood not stricken sad.

Thus these two disagreeing gods, old Saturn’s mighty sons,

Afflicted these heroic men with huge oppressions.

Jove honouring Aeacides (to let the Greeks still try

Their want without him) would bestow yet still the victory

On Hector and the Trojan pow’r; yet for Aeacides,

And honour of his mother queen, great goddess of the seas,

He would not let proud Ilion see the Grecians quite destroy’d:

And therefore from the hoary deep he suffer’d so employ’d

Great Neptune in the Grecian aid; who griev’d for them, and storm’d

Extremely at his brother Jove. Yet both one goddess form’d,

And one soil bred: but Jupiter precedence took in birth,

And had more knowledge, for which cause the other came not forth

Of his wet kingdom but with care of not being seen t’ excite

The Grecian host, and like a man appear’d and made the fight.

So these gods made men’s valours great, but equall’d them with war

As harmful as their hearts were good, and stretch’d those chains as far

On both sides as their limbs could bear: in which they were involv’d

Past breach or loosing, that their knees might therefore be dissolv’d.

Then, though a half-grey man he were, Crete’s sov’reign did excite

The Greeks to blows, and flew upon the Trojans, ev’n to flight:

For he, in sight of all the host, Othryoneus slew,

That from Cabesus with the fame of those wars thither drew

His new-come forces, and requir’d, without respect of dow’r,

Cassandra, fair’st of Priam’s race, assuring with his pow’r –

A mighty labour – to expel in their despite from Troy

The sons of Greece. The king did vow (that done) he should enjoy

His goodliest daughter. He, in trust of that fair purchase, fought,

And at him threw the Cretan king a lance, that singled out

This great assumer, whom it struck just in his navel’s stead;

His brazen curets helping nought resign’d him to the dead.

Then did the conqueror exclaim, and thus insulted then:

‘Othryoneus, I will praise beyond all mortal men

Thy living virtues, if thou wilt now perfect the brave vow

Thou mad’st to Priam, for the wife he promis’d to bestow.

And where he should have kept his word, there we assure thee here,

To give thee for thy princely wife the fairest and most dear

Of our great general’s female race, which from his Argive hall

We all will wait upon to Troy, if with our aids and all,

Thou wilt but raze this well-built town. Come, therefore, follow me,

That in our ships we may conclude this royal match with thee:

I’ll be no jot worse than my word.’ With that he took his feet

And dragg’d him through the fervent fight; in which did Asius meet

The victor, to inflict revenge. He came on foot before

His horse, that on his shoulders breath’d, so closely evermore

His coachman led them to his lord: who held a huge desire

To strike the king, but he struck first, and underneath his chin,

At his throat’s height, through th’ other side his eager lance drave in;

And down he bustled like an oak, a poplar, or a pine,

Hewn down for shipwood, and so lay: his fall did so decline

The spirit of his charioteer, that lest he should incense

The victor to impair his spoil, he durst not drive from thence

His horse and chariot: and so pleas’d with that respective part

Antilochus, that for his fear he reach’d him with a dart

About his belly’s midst; and down his sad corse fell beneath

The richly-builded chariot, there labouring out his breath.

The horse Antilochus took off; when, griev’d for this event,

Deiphobus drew passing near, and at the victor sent

A shining javelin; which he saw, and shunn’d, with gath’ring round

His body in his all-round shield, at whose top, with a sound,

It overflew; yet seizing there, it did not idly fly

From him that wing’d it; his strong hand still drave it mortally

On prince Hypsenor; it did pierce his liver, underneath

The veins it passeth: his shrunk knees submitted him to death.

And then did lov’d Deiphobus miraculously vaunt:

‘Now Asius lies not unreveng’d, nor doth his spirit want

The joy I wish it, though it be now ent’ring the strong gate

Of mighty Pluto, since this hand hath sent him down a mate.’

This glory in him griev’d the Greeks, and chiefly the great mind

Of martial Antilochus, who, though to grief inclin’d,

He left not yet his friend, but ran and hid him with his shield;

And to him came two lovely friends, that freed him from the field,

Mecisteus, son of Echius, and the right nobly born

Alastar, bearing him to fleet, and did extremely mourn.

Idomeneus sunk not yet, but held his nerves entire,

His mind much less deficient, being fed with firm desire

To hide more Trojans in dim night, or sink himself in guard

Of his lov’d countrymen. And then Alcathous prepar’d

Work for his valour, of
f
’ring fate his own destruction.

A great heroë, and had grace to be the loved son

Of Aesietes, son-in-law to prince Aeneas’ sire,

Hippodamia marrying, who most enflam’d the fire

Of her dear parents’ love, and took precedence in her birth

Of all their daughters, and as much exceeded in her worth

(For beauty answer’d with her mind, and both with huswif’ry)

All the fair beauty of young dames that us’d her company;

And therefore (being the worthiest dame) the worthiest man did wed

Of ample Troy. Him Neptune stoop’d beneath the royal force

Of Idomen, his sparkling eyes deluding, and the course

Of his illustrious lineaments so out of nature bound

That back nor forward he could stir, but – as he grew to ground –

Stood like a pillar or high tree, and neither mov’d nor fear’d: