Iliad on Leadership

Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs,[87] In generous vengeance of the king of kings. With indignation sparkling in his eyes, He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies:

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 god’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 God. 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 friendship, 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 god 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 Briseïs 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 gods alone.”

Now rosy Morn ascends the court of Jove, Lifts up her light, and opens day above. The king despatch’d his heralds with commands To range the camp and summon all the bands: The gathering hosts the monarch’s word obey; While to the fleet Atrides bends his way. In his black ship the Pylian prince he found; There calls a senate of the peers around: The assembly placed, the king of men express’d The counsels labouring in his artful breast.

Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay Dissolve the council, and their chief obey: The sceptred rulers lead; the following host, Pour’d forth by thousands, darkens all the coast. As from some rocky cleft the shepherd sees Clustering in heaps on heaps the driving bees, Rolling and blackening, swarms succeeding swarms, With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms; Dusky they spread, a close embodied crowd, And o’er the vale descends the living cloud.[81] So, from the tents and ships, a lengthen’d train Spreads all the beach, and wide o’ershades the plain: Along the region runs a deafening sound; Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground. Fame flies before the messenger of Jove, And shining soars, and claps her wings above. Nine sacred heralds now, proclaiming loud[82] The monarch’s will, suspend the listening crowd. Soon as the throngs in order ranged appear, And fainter murmurs died upon the ear, The king of kings his awful figure raised: High in his hand the golden sceptre blazed; The golden sceptre, of celestial flame, By Vulcan form’d, from Jove to Hermes came. To Pelops he the immortal gift resign’d; The immortal gift great Pelops left behind, In Atreus’ hand, which not with Atreus ends, To rich Thyestes next the prize descends; And now the mark of Agamemnon’s reign, Subjects all Argos, and controls the main.[83]

He said: deep silence held the Grecian band; Silent, unmov’d in dire dismay they stand; A pensive scene! till Tydeus’ warlike son Roll’d on the king his eyes, and thus begun: “When kings advise us to renounce our fame, First let him speak who first has suffer’d shame. If I oppose thee, prince! thy wrath withhold, The laws of council bid my tongue be bold. Thou first, and thou alone, in fields of fight, Durst brand my courage, and defame my might: Nor from a friend the unkind reproach appear’d, The Greeks stood witness, all our army heard. The gods, O chief! from whom our honours spring, The gods have made thee but by halves a king: They gave thee sceptres, and a wide command; They gave dominion o’er the seas and land; The noblest power that might the world control They gave thee not—a brave and virtuous soul. Is this a general’s voice, that would suggest Fears like his own to every Grecian breast? Confiding in our want of worth, he stands; And if we fly, ’tis what our king commands. Go thou, inglorious! from the embattled plain; Ships thou hast store, and nearest to the main; A noble care the Grecians shall employ, To combat, conquer, and extirpate Troy. Here Greece shall stay; or, if all Greece retire, Myself shall stay, till Troy or I expire; Myself, and Sthenelus, will fight for fame; God bade us fight, and ’twas with God we came.”

The monarch thus. The reverend Nestor then: “Great Agamemnon! glorious king of men! Such are thy offers as a prince may take, And such as fits a generous king to make. Let chosen delegates this hour be sent (Myself will name them) to Pelides’ tent. Let Phœnix lead, revered for hoary age, Great Ajax next, and Ithacus the sage. Yet more to sanctify the word you send, Let Hodius and Eurybates attend. Now pray to Jove to grant what Greece demands; Pray in deep silence,[205] and with purest hands.”[206]

The proud Mycenè arms her martial powers, Cleonè, Corinth, with imperial towers,[103] Fair Aræthyrea, Ornia’s fruitful plain, And Ægion, and Adrastus’ ancient reign; And those who dwell along the sandy shore, And where Pellenè yields her fleecy store, Where Helicè and Hyperesia lie, And Gonoëssa’s spires salute the sky. Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band, A hundred vessels in long order stand, And crowded nations wait his dread command. High on the deck the king of men appears, And his refulgent arms in triumph wears; Proud of his host, unrivall’d in his reign, In silent pomp he moves along the main.

Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated hour[43] Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power Latona’s son a dire contagion spread,[44] And heap’d the camp with mountains of the dead; The king of men his reverent priest defied,[45] And for the king’s offence the people died.

“What shame, what woe is this to Greece! what joy To Troy’s proud monarch, and the friends of Troy! That adverse gods 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 godlike 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 gods 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 shaggy 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 gods in strength, and of a goddess 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, gods! Achilles should be lost, The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host.”

“O truly great! in whom the gods have join’d Such strength of body with such force of mind: In conduct, as in courage, you excel, Still first to act what you advise so well. These wholesome counsels which thy wisdom moves, Applauding Greece with common voice approves. Kings thou canst blame; a bold but prudent youth: And blame even kings with praise, because with truth. And yet those years that since thy birth have run Would hardly style thee Nestor’s youngest son. Then let me add what yet remains behind, A thought unfinish’d in that generous mind; Age bids me speak! nor shall the advice I bring Distaste the people, or offend the king:

Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine? Great as thou art, and like a god in fight, Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right. At thy demand shall I restore the maid? First let the just equivalent be paid; Such as a king might ask; and let it be A treasure worthy her, and worthy me. Or grant me this, or with a monarch’s claim This hand shall seize some other captive dame. The mighty Ajax shall his prize resign;[55] Ulysses’ spoils, or even thy own, be mine. The man who suffers, loudly may complain; And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain. But this when time requires.—It now remains We launch a bark to plough the watery plains, And waft the sacrifice to Chrysa’s shores, With chosen pilots, and with labouring oars. Soon shall the fair the sable ship ascend, And some deputed prince the charge attend: This Creta’s king, or Ajax shall fulfil, Or wise Ulysses see perform’d our will; Or, if our royal pleasure shall ordain, Achilles’ self conduct her o’er the main; Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in his rage, The god propitiate, and the pest assuage.”

“Hear me, ye sons of Greece! with silence hear! And grant your monarch an impartial ear: Awhile your loud, untimely joy suspend, And let your rash, injurious clamours end: Unruly murmurs, or ill-timed applause, Wrong the best speaker, and the justest cause. Nor charge on me, ye Greeks, the dire debate: Know, angry Jove, and all-compelling Fate, With fell Erinnys, urged my wrath that day When from Achilles’ arms I forced the prey. What then could I against the will of heaven? Not by myself, but vengeful Ate driven; She, Jove’s dread daughter, fated to infest The race of mortals, enter’d in my breast. Not on the ground that haughty fury treads, But prints her lofty footsteps on the heads Of mighty men; inflicting as she goes Long-festering wounds, inextricable woes! Of old, she stalk’d amid the bright abodes; And Jove himself, the sire of men and gods, The world’s great ruler, felt her venom’d dart; Deceived by Juno’s wiles, and female art: For when Alcmena’s nine long months were run, And Jove expected his immortal son, To gods and goddesses the unruly joy He show’d, and vaunted of his matchless boy: ‘From us, (he said) this day an infant springs, Fated to rule, and born a king of kings.’ Saturnia ask’d an oath, to vouch the truth, And fix dominion on the favour’d youth. The Thunderer, unsuspicious of the fraud, Pronounced those solemn words that bind a god. The joyful goddess, from Olympus’ height, Swift to Achaian Argos bent her flight: Scarce seven moons gone, lay Sthenelus’s wife; She push’d her lingering infant into life: Her charms Alcmena’s coming labours stay, And stop the babe, just issuing to the day. Then bids Saturnius bear his oath in mind; ‘A youth (said she) of Jove’s immortal kind Is this day born: from Sthenelus he springs, And claims thy promise to be king of kings.’ Grief seized the Thunderer, by his oath engaged; Stung to the soul, he sorrow’d, and he raged.

Dreadful in arms, and grown in combats grey, The bold Idomeneus controls the day. First by his hand Othryoneus was slain, Swell’d with false hopes, with mad ambition vain; Call’d by the voice of war to martial fame, From high Cabesus’ distant walls he came; Cassandra’s love he sought, with boasts of power, And promised conquest was the proffer’d dower. The king consented, by his vaunts abused; The king consented, but the fates refused. Proud of himself, and of the imagined bride, The field he measured with a larger stride. Him as he stalk’d, the Cretan javelin found; Vain was his breastplate to repel the wound: His dream of glory lost, he plunged to hell; His arms resounded as the boaster fell. The great Idomeneus bestrides the dead; “And thus (he cries) behold thy promise sped! Such is the help thy arms to Ilion bring, And such the contract of the Phrygian king! Our offers now, illustrious prince! receive; For such an aid what will not Argos give? To conquer Troy, with ours thy forces join, And count Atrides’ fairest daughter thine. Meantime, on further methods to advise, Come, follow to the fleet thy new allies; There hear what Greece has on her part to say.” He spoke, and dragg’d the gory corse away. This Asius view’d, unable to contain, Before his chariot warring on the plain: (His crowded coursers, to his squire consign’d, Impatient panted on his neck behind:) To vengeance rising with a sudden spring, He hoped the conquest of the Cretan king. The wary Cretan, as his foe drew near, Full on his throat discharged the forceful spear: Beneath the chin the point was seen to glide, And glitter’d, extant at the further side. As when the mountain-oak, or poplar tall, Or pine, fit mast for some great admiral, Groans to the oft-heaved axe, with many a wound, Then spreads a length of ruin o’er the ground: So sunk proud Asius in that dreadful day, And stretch’d before his much-loved coursers lay.

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

The son of Hercules, the Rhodian guide, Thus haughty spoke. The Lycian king replied:

Achilles’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring Of woes unnumber’d, heavenly goddess, sing! That wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy reign The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain; Whose limbs unburied on the naked shore, Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore.[41] Since great Achilles and Atrides strove, Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove![42]

The son of Peleus thus; and thus replies The great in councils, Ithacus the wise: “Though, godlike, thou art by no toils oppress’d, At least our armies claim repast and rest: Long and laborious must the combat be, When by the gods inspired, and led by thee. Strength is derived from spirits and from blood, And those augment by generous wine and food: What boastful son of war, without that stay, Can last a hero through a single day? Courage may prompt; but, ebbing out his strength, Mere unsupported man must yield at length; Shrunk with dry famine, and with toils declined, The drooping body will desert the mind: But built anew with strength-conferring fare, With limbs and soul untamed, he tires a war. Dismiss the people, then, and give command, With strong repast to hearten every band; But let the presents to Achilles made, In full assembly of all Greece be laid. The king of men shall rise in public sight, And solemn swear (observant of the rite) That, spotless, as she came, the maid removes, Pure from his arms, and guiltless of his loves. That done, a sumptuous banquet shall be made, And the full price of injured honour paid. Stretch not henceforth, O prince! thy sovereign might Beyond the bounds of reason and of right; ’Tis the chief praise that e’er to kings belong’d, To right with justice whom with power they wrong’d.”

He said, and placed the goblet at his side; With joy the venerable king replied:

“Warriors like you, with strength and wisdom bless’d, By brave examples should confirm the rest. The monarch’s will not yet reveal’d appears; He tries our courage, but resents our fears. The unwary Greeks his fury may provoke; Not thus the king in secret council spoke. Jove loves our chief, from Jove his honour springs, Beware! for dreadful is the wrath of kings.”

Thus he. Idomeneus, incensed, rejoin’d: “Barbarous of words! and arrogant of mind! Contentious prince, of all the Greeks beside The last in merit, as the first in pride! To vile reproach what answer can we make? A goblet or a tripod let us stake, And be the king the judge. The most unwise Will learn their rashness, when they pay the price.”

To whom the king: “My brother and my friend, Thus, always thus, may Heaven thy life defend! Now seek some skilful hand, whose powerful art May stanch the effusion, and extract the dart. Herald, be swift, and bid Machaon bring His speedy succour to the Spartan king; Pierced with a winged shaft (the deed of Troy), The Grecian’s sorrow, and the Dardan’s joy.”

“Prince, thou art met. Though late in vain assail’d, The spear may enter where the arrow fail’d.”

“Beloved of Jove, Achilles! would’st thou know Why angry Phœbus bends his fatal bow? First give thy faith, and plight a prince’s word Of sure protection, by thy power and sword: For I must speak what wisdom would conceal, And truths, invidious to the great, reveal, Bold is the task, when subjects, grown too wise, Instruct a monarch where his error lies; For though we deem the short-lived fury past, ’Tis sure the mighty will revenge at last.” To whom Pelides:—“From thy inmost soul Speak what thou know’st, and speak without control. E’en by that god I swear who rules the day, To whom thy hands the vows of Greece convey. And whose bless’d oracles thy lips declare; Long as Achilles breathes this vital air, No daring Greek, of all the numerous band, Against his priest shall lift an impious hand; Not e’en the chief by whom our hosts are led, The king of kings, shall touch that sacred head.”

“Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state, With wrangling talents form’d for foul debate: Curb that impetuous tongue, nor rashly vain, And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign. Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host, The man who acts the least, upbraids the most? Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring, Nor let those lips profane the name of king. For our return we trust the heavenly powers; Be that their care; to fight like men be ours. But grant the host with wealth the general load, Except detraction, what hast thou bestow’d? Suppose some hero should his spoils resign, Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine? Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore, And let these eyes behold my son no more; If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv’st to wear, Expel the council where our princes meet, And send thee scourged and howling through the fleet.”

“Thy sire, O prince! o’erturn’d the Trojan state, Whose perjured monarch well deserved his fate; Those heavenly steeds the hero sought so far, False he detain’d, the just reward of war. Nor so content, the generous chief defied, With base reproaches and unmanly pride. But you, unworthy the high race you boast, Shall raise my glory when thy own is lost: Now meet thy fate, and by Sarpedon slain, Add one more ghost to Pluto’s gloomy reign.”

The heavy tidings grieved the godlike man: Swift to his succour through the ranks he ran. The dauntless king yet standing firm he found, And all the chiefs in deep concern around. Where to the steely point the reed was join’d, The shaft he drew, but left the head behind. Straight the broad belt with gay embroidery graced, He loosed; the corslet from his breast unbraced; Then suck’d the blood, and sovereign balm infused,[133] Which Chiron gave, and Æsculapius used.

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 gods his matchless force have given; Has foul reproach a privilege from heaven?”

The admiring chiefs, and all the Grecian name, With general shouts return’d him loud acclaim. Then thus the king of kings rejects the peace: “Herald! in him thou hear’st the voice of Greece For what remains; let funeral flames be fed With heroes’ corps: I war not with the dead: Go search your slaughtered chiefs on yonder plain, And gratify the manes of the slain. Be witness, Jove, whose thunder rolls on high!” He said, and rear’d his sceptre to the sky.

His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame; And nine, the noblest of the Grecian name, Up-started fierce: but far before the rest The king of men advanced his dauntless breast: Then bold Tydides, great in arms, appear’d; And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear’d; Oïleus follow’d; Idomen was there,[180] And Merion, dreadful as the god of war: With these Eurypylus and Thoas stand, And wise Ulysses closed the daring band. All these, alike inspired with noble rage, Demand the fight. To whom the Pylian sage:

“Then thus in short my fix’d resolves attend, Which nor Atrides nor his Greeks can bend; Long toils, long perils in their cause I bore, But now the unfruitful glories charm no more. Fight or not fight, a like reward we claim, The wretch and hero find their prize the same. Alike regretted in the dust he lies, Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies. Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains, A life of labours, lo! what fruit remains? As the bold bird her helpless young attends, From danger guards them, and from want defends; In search of prey she wings the spacious air, And with the untasted food supplies her care: For thankless Greece such hardships have I braved, Her wives, her infants, by my labours saved; Long sleepless nights in heavy arms I stood, And sweat laborious days in dust and blood. I sack’d twelve ample cities on the main,[207] And twelve lay smoking on the Trojan plain: Then at Atrides’ haughty feet were laid The wealth I gathered, and the spoils I made. Your mighty monarch these in peace possess’d; Some few my soldiers had, himself the rest. Some present, too, to every prince was paid; And every prince enjoys the gift he made: I only must refund, of all his train; See what pre-eminence our merits gain! My spoil alone his greedy soul delights: My spouse alone must bless his lustful nights: The woman, let him (as he may) enjoy; But what’s the quarrel, then, of Greece to Troy? What to these shores the assembled nations draws, What calls for vengeance but a woman’s cause? Are fair endowments and a beauteous face Beloved by none but those of Atreus’ race? The wife whom choice and passion doth approve, Sure every wise and worthy man will love. Nor did my fair one less distinction claim; Slave as she was, my soul adored the dame. Wrong’d in my love, all proffers I disdain; Deceived for once, I trust not kings again. Ye have my answer—what remains to do, Your king, Ulysses, may consult with you. What needs he the defence this arm can make?

To whom the king: “With reverence we allow Thy just rebukes, yet learn to spare them now: My generous brother is of gentle kind, He seems remiss, but bears a valiant mind; Through too much deference to our sovereign sway, Content to follow when we lead the way: But now, our ills industrious to prevent, Long ere the rest he rose, and sought my tent. The chiefs you named, already at his call, Prepare to meet us near the navy-wall; Assembling there, between the trench and gates, Near the night-guards, our chosen council waits.”

“Before thy presence, father, I appear, With conscious shame and reverential fear. Ah! had I died, ere to these walls I fled, False to my country, and my nuptial bed; My brothers, friends, and daughter left behind, False to them all, to Paris only kind! For this I mourn, till grief or dire disease Shall waste the form whose fault it was to please! The king of kings, Atrides, you survey, Great in the war, and great in arts of sway: My brother once, before my days of shame! And oh! that still he bore a brother’s name!”

To whom the latent god: “O king, forbear To tempt my youth, for apt is youth to err. But can I, absent from my prince’s sight, Take gifts in secret, that must shun the light? What from our master’s interest thus we draw, Is but a licensed theft that ’scapes the law. Respecting him, my soul abjures the offence; And as the crime, I dread the consequence. Thee, far as Argos, pleased I could convey; Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way: On thee attend, thy safety to maintain, O’er pathless forests, or the roaring main.”

But Ajax, glorying in his hardy deed, The well-arm’d Greeks to Agamemnon lead. A steer for sacrifice the king design’d, Of full five years, and of the nobler kind. The victim falls; they strip the smoking hide, The beast they quarter, and the joints divide; Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, Each takes his seat, and each receives his share. The king himself (an honorary sign) Before great Ajax placed the mighty chine.[185] When now the rage of hunger was removed, Nestor, in each persuasive art approved, The sage whose counsels long had sway’d the rest, In words like these his prudent thought express’d:

Then Idomen, insulting o’er the slain: “Behold, Deiphobus! nor vaunt in vain: See! on one Greek three Trojan ghosts attend; This, my third victim, to the shades I send. Approaching now thy boasted might approve, And try the prowess of the seed of Jove. From Jove, enamour’d of a mortal dame, Great Minos, guardian of his country, came: Deucalion, blameless prince, was Minos’ heir; His first-born I, the third from Jupiter: O’er spacious Crete, and her bold sons, I reign, And thence my ships transport me through the main: Lord of a host, o’er all my host I shine, A scourge to thee, thy father, and thy line.”

The king of ocean to the fight descends, Through all the whistling darts his course he bends, Swift interposed between the warrior flies, And casts thick darkness o’er Achilles’ eyes.[267] From great Æneas’ shield the spear he drew, And at his master’s feet the weapon threw. That done, with force divine he snatch’d on high The Dardan prince, and bore him through the sky, Smooth-gliding without step, above the heads Of warring heroes, and of bounding steeds: Till at the battle’s utmost verge they light, Where the slow Caucans close the rear of fight. The godhead there (his heavenly form confess’d) With words like these the panting chief address’d:

The prophet spoke: when with a gloomy frown The monarch started from his shining throne; Black choler fill’d his breast that boil’d with ire, And from his eye-balls flash’d the living fire: “Augur accursed! denouncing mischief still, Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill! Still must that tongue some wounding message bring, And still thy priestly pride provoke thy king? For this are Phœbus’ oracles explored, To teach the Greeks to murmur at their lord? For this with falsehood is my honour stain’d, Is heaven offended, and a priest profaned; Because my prize, my beauteous maid, I hold, And heavenly charms prefer to proffer’d gold? A maid, unmatch’d in manners as in face, Skill’d in each art, and crown’d with every grace; Not half so dear were Clytæmnestra’s charms, When first her blooming beauties bless’d my arms. Yet, if the gods demand her, let her sail; Our cares are only for the public weal: Let me be deem’d the hateful cause of all, And suffer, rather than my people fall. The prize, the beauteous prize, I will resign, So dearly valued, and so justly mine. But since for common good I yield the fair, My private loss let grateful Greece repair; Nor unrewarded let your prince complain, That he alone has fought and bled in vain.” “Insatiate king (Achilles thus replies), Fond of the power, but fonder of the prize! Would’st thou the Greeks their lawful prey should yield, The due reward of many a well-fought field?

Meantime the heralds, through the crowded town, Bring the rich wine and destined victims down. Idæus’ arms the golden goblets press’d,[119] Who thus the venerable king address’d: “Arise, O father of the Trojan state! The nations call, thy joyful people wait To seal the truce, and end the dire debate. Paris, thy son, and Sparta’s king advance, In measured lists to toss the weighty lance; And who his rival shall in arms subdue, His be the dame, and his the treasure too. Thus with a lasting league our toils may cease, And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace: So shall the Greeks review their native shore, Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more.”

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.

“With leave and honour enter our abodes, Ye sacred ministers of men and gods![60] I know your message; by constraint you came; Not you, but your imperious lord I blame. Patroclus, haste, the fair Briseïs bring; Conduct my captive to the haughty king. But witness, heralds, and proclaim my vow, Witness to gods above, and men below! But first, and loudest, to your prince declare (That lawless tyrant whose commands you bear), Unmoved as death Achilles shall remain, Though prostrate Greece shall bleed at every vein: The raging chief in frantic passion lost, Blind to himself, and useless to his host, Unskill’d to judge the future by the past, In blood and slaughter shall repent at last.”

Pleased from the hero’s lips his praise to hear, The king to Merion gives the brazen spear: But, set apart for sacred use, commands The glittering charger to Talthybius’ hands.

While these to love’s delicious rapture yield, The stern Atrides rages round the field: So some fell lion whom the woods obey, Roars through the desert, and demands his prey. Paris he seeks, impatient to destroy, But seeks in vain along the troops of Troy; Even those had yielded to a foe so brave The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave. Then speaking thus, the king of kings arose, “Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes! Hear and attest! from Heaven with conquest crown’d, Our brother’s arms the just success have found: Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restor’d, Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord; The appointed fine let Ilion justly pay, And age to age record this signal day.”

Then, as once more he plunged amid the flood, The young Lycaon in his passage stood; The son of Priam; whom the hero’s hand But late made captive in his father’s land (As from a sycamore, his sounding steel Lopp’d the green arms to spoke a chariot wheel) To Lemnos’ isle he sold the royal slave, Where Jason’s son the price demanded gave; But kind Eetion, touching on the shore, The ransom’d prince to fair Arisbe bore. Ten days were past, since in his father’s reign He felt the sweets of liberty again; The next, that god whom men in vain withstand Gives the same youth to the same conquering hand Now never to return! and doom’d to go A sadder journey to the shades below. His well-known face when great Achilles eyed, (The helm and visor he had cast aside With wild affright, and dropp’d upon the field His useless lance and unavailing shield,) As trembling, panting, from the stream he fled, And knock’d his faltering knees, the hero said: “Ye mighty gods! what wonders strike my view! Is it in vain our conquering arms subdue? Sure I shall see yon heaps of Trojans kill’d Rise from the shades, and brave me on the field; As now the captive, whom so late I bound And sold to Lemnos, stalks on Trojan ground! Not him the sea’s unmeasured deeps detain, That bar such numbers from their native plain; Lo! he returns. Try, then, my flying spear! Try, if the grave can hold the wanderer; If earth, at length this active prince can seize, Earth, whose strong grasp has held down Hercules.”

Now godlike Hector, to whose matchless might Jove gave the glory of the destined fight, Squadrons on squadrons drives, and fills the fields With close-ranged chariots, and with thicken’d shields. Where the deep trench in length extended lay, Compacted troops stand wedged in firm array, A dreadful front! they shake the brands, and threat With long-destroying flames the hostile fleet. The king of men, by Juno’s self inspired, Toil’d through the tents, and all his army fired. Swift as he moved, he lifted in his hand His purple robe, bright ensign of command. High on the midmost bark the king appear’d: There, from Ulysses’ deck, his voice was heard: To Ajax and Achilles reach’d the sound, Whose distant ships the guarded navy bound. “O Argives! shame of human race! (he cried: The hollow vessels to his voice replied,) Where now are all your glorious boasts of yore, Your hasty triumphs on the Lemnian shore? Each fearless hero dares a hundred foes, While the feast lasts, and while the goblet flows; But who to meet one martial man is found, When the fight rages, and the flames surround? O mighty Jove! O sire of the distress’d! Was ever king like me, like me oppress’d? With power immense, with justice arm’d in vain; My glory ravish’d, and my people slain! To thee my vows were breathed from every shore; What altar smoked not with our victims’ gore? With fat of bulls I fed the constant flame, And ask’d destruction to the Trojan name. Now, gracious god! far humbler our demand; Give these at least to ’scape from Hector’s hand, And save the relics of the Grecian land!”

The all-mighty spoke, nor durst the powers reply: A reverend horror silenced all the sky; Trembling they stood before their sovereign’s look; At length his best-beloved, the power of wisdom, spoke:

He said: his finish’d wrath with loud acclaim The Greeks accept, and shout Pelides’ name. When thus, not rising from his lofty throne, In state unmoved, the king of men begun:

The lots produced, each hero signs his own: Then in the general’s helm the fates are thrown,[181] The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands, And vows like these ascend from all the bands: “Grant, thou Almighty! in whose hand is fate, A worthy champion for the Grecian state: This task let Ajax or Tydides prove, Or he, the king of kings, beloved by Jove.” Old Nestor shook the casque. By heaven inspired, Leap’d forth the lot, of every Greek desired. This from the right to left the herald bears, Held out in order to the Grecian peers; Each to his rival yields the mark unknown, Till godlike Ajax finds the lot his own; Surveys the inscription with rejoicing eyes, Then casts before him, and with transport cries:

“O prince! (Meriones replies) whose care Leads forth the embattled sons of Crete to war; This speaks my grief: this headless lance I wield; The rest lies rooted in a Trojan shield.”

The king, alarm’d: “Say what, and whence thou art Who search the sorrows of a parent’s heart, And know so well how godlike Hector died?” Thus Priam spoke, and Hermes thus replied:

This said, the hoary king no longer stay’d, But on his car the slaughter’d victims laid: Then seized the reins his gentle steeds to guide, And drove to Troy, Antenor at his side.

Scarce had he spoke, when, lo! the chiefs appear, And spring to earth; the Greeks dismiss their fear: With words of friendship and extended hands They greet the kings; and Nestor first demands:

“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 vassal god, nor of his train, am I. Three brother deities from Saturn came, And ancient Rhea, earth’s immortal dame: Assign’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 hoary 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.”

Then gave his hand at parting, to prevent The old man’s fears, and turn’d within the tent; Where fair Briseïs, bright in blooming charms, Expects her hero with desiring arms. But in the porch the king and herald rest; Sad dreams of care yet wandering in their breast. Now gods and men the gifts of sleep partake; Industrious Hermes only was awake, The king’s return revolving in his mind, To pass the ramparts, and the watch to blind. The power descending hover’d o’er his head: “And sleep’st thou, father! (thus the vision said:) Now dost thou sleep, when Hector is restored? Nor fear the Grecian foes, or Grecian lord? Thy presence here should stern Atrides see, Thy still surviving sons may sue for thee; May offer all thy treasures yet contain, To spare thy age; and offer all in vain.”

“Now speed thy hasty course along the fleet, There call great Ajax, and the prince of Crete; Ourself to hoary Nestor will repair; To keep the guards on duty be his care, (For Nestor’s influence best that quarter guides, Whose son with Merion, o’er the watch presides.”) To whom the Spartan: “These thy orders borne, Say, shall I stay, or with despatch return?” “There shall thou stay, (the king of men replied,) Else may we miss to meet, without a guide, The paths so many, and the camp so wide. Still, with your voice the slothful soldiers raise, Urge by their fathers’ fame their future praise. Forget we now our state and lofty birth; Not titles here, but works, must prove our worth. To labour is the lot of man below; And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.”

“You tempt me, father, and with pity touch: On this sad subject you inquire too much. Oft have these eyes that godlike Hector view’d In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrued: I saw him when, like Jove, his flames he toss’d On thousand ships, and wither’d half a host: I saw, but help’d not: stern Achilles’ ire Forbade assistance, and enjoy’d the fire. For him I serve, of Myrmidonian race; One ship convey’d us from our native place; Polyctor is my sire, an honour’d name, Old like thyself, and not unknown to fame; Of seven his sons, by whom the lot was cast To serve our prince, it fell on me, the last. To watch this quarter, my adventure falls: For with the morn the Greeks attack your walls; Sleepless they sit, impatient to engage, And scarce their rulers check their martial rage.”

Fired at his word the rival racers rise; But far the first Eumelus hopes the prize, Famed though Pieria for the fleetest breed, And skill’d to manage the high-bounding steed. With equal ardour bold Tydides swell’d, The steeds of Tros beneath his yoke compell’d (Which late obey’d the Dardan chief’s command, When scarce a god redeem’d him from his hand). Then Menelaus his Podargus brings, And the famed courser of the king of kings: Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave), To ’scape the wars, to Agamemnon gave, (Æthe her name) at home to end his days; Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. Next him Antilochus demands the course With beating heart, and cheers his Pylian horse. Experienced Nestor gives his son the reins, Directs his judgment, and his heat restrains; Nor idly warns the hoary sire, nor hears The prudent son with unattending ears.

Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view) Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw, Prone on the dust. The Myrmidons around Unbraced their armour, and the steeds unbound. All to Achilles’ sable ship repair, Frequent and full, the genial feast to share. Now from the well-fed swine black smokes aspire, The bristly victims hissing o’er the fire: The huge ox bellowing falls; with feebler cries Expires the goat; the sheep in silence dies. Around the hero’s prostrate body flow’d, In one promiscuous stream, the reeking blood. And now a band of Argive monarchs brings The glorious victor to the king of kings. From his dead friend the pensive warrior went, With steps unwilling, to the regal tent. The attending heralds, as by office bound, With kindled flames the tripod-vase surround: To cleanse his conquering hands from hostile gore, They urged in vain; the chief refused, and swore:[282]

Then tell him: loud, that all the Greeks may hear, And learn to scorn the wretch they basely fear; (For arm’d in impudence, mankind he braves, And meditates new cheats on all his slaves; Though shameless as he is, to face these eyes Is what he dares not: if he dares he dies;) Tell him, all terms, all commerce I decline, Nor share his council, nor his battle join; For once deceiv’d, was his; but twice were mine, No—let the stupid prince, whom Jove deprives Of sense and justice, run where frenzy drives; His gifts are hateful: kings of such a kind Stand but as slaves before a noble mind, Not though he proffer’d all himself possess’d, And all his rapine could from others wrest: Not all the golden tides of wealth that crown The many-peopled Orchomenian town;[209] Not all proud Thebes’ unrivall’d walls contain, The world’s great empress on the Egyptian plain (That spreads her conquests o’er a thousand states, And pours her heroes through a hundred gates, Two hundred horsemen and two hundred cars From each wide portal issuing to the wars);[210] Though bribes were heap’d on bribes, in number more Than dust in fields, or sands along the shore; Should all these offers for my friendship call, ’Tis he that offers, and I scorn them all. Atrides’ daughter never shall be led (An ill-match’d consort) to Achilles’ bed; Like golden Venus though she charm’d the heart, And vied with Pallas in the works of art; Some greater Greek let those high nuptials grace, I hate alliance with a tyrant’s race. If heaven restore me to my realms with life, The reverend Peleus shall elect my wife; Thessalian nymphs there are of form divine, And kings that sue to mix their blood with mine. Bless’d in kind love, my years shall glide away, Content with just hereditary sway; There, deaf for ever to the martial strife, Enjoy the dear prerogative of life. Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold.

Dione then: “Thy wrongs with patience bear, And share those griefs inferior powers must share: Unnumber’d woes mankind from us sustain, And men with woes afflict the gods again. The mighty Mars in mortal fetters bound,[149] And lodged in brazen dungeons underground, Full thirteen moons imprison’d roar’d in vain; Otus and Ephialtes held the chain: Perhaps had perish’d had not Hermes’ care Restored the groaning god to upper air. Great Juno’s self has borne her weight of pain, The imperial partner of the heavenly reign; Amphitryon’s son infix’d the deadly dart,[150] And fill’d with anguish her immortal heart. E’en hell’s grim king Alcides’ power confess’d, The shaft found entrance in his iron breast; To Jove’s high palace for a cure he fled, Pierced in his own dominions of the dead; Where Paeon, sprinkling heavenly balm around, Assuaged the glowing pangs, and closed the wound. Rash, impious man! to stain the bless’d abodes, And drench his arrows in the blood of gods!

“Monarch of nations! whose superior sway Assembled states, and lords of earth obey, The laws and sceptres to thy hand are given, And millions own the care of thee and Heaven. O king! the counsels of my age attend; With thee my cares begin, with thee must end. Thee, prince! it fits alike to speak and hear, Pronounce with judgment, with regard give ear, To see no wholesome motion be withstood, And ratify the best for public good. Nor, though a meaner give advice, repine, But follow it, and make the wisdom thine. Hear then a thought, not now conceived in haste, At once my present judgment and my past. When from Pelides’ tent you forced the maid, I first opposed, and faithful, durst dissuade; But bold of soul, when headlong fury fired, You wronged the man, by men and gods admired: Now seek some means his fatal wrath to end, With prayers to move him, or with gifts to bend.”