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Iliad of Homer, Rendered into English Blank Verse

Meanwhile the chieftains, seated in the ring, Look’d for the cars, that scour’d the dusty plain. The first to see them was Idomeneus, The Cretan King; for he, without the ring, Was posted high aloft; and from afar He heard and knew the foremost horseman’s voice; Well too he knew the gallant horse that led, All bay the rest, but on his front alone A star of white, full-orbed as the moon: Then up he rose, and thus the Greeks address’d: “O friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece, Can ye too see, or I alone, the cars? A diff’rent chariot seems to me in front, A diff’rent charioteer; and they who first Were leading, must have met with some mischance. I saw them late, ere round the goal they turn’d, But see them now no more; though all around My eyes explore the wide-spread plain of Troy. Perchance the charioteer has dropp’d the reins, Or round the goal he could not hold the mares; Perchance has miss’d the turn, and on the plain Is lying now beside his broken car, While from the course his mettled steeds have flown. Stand up, and look yourselves; I cannot well Distinguish; but to me it seems a chief, Who reigns o’er Greeks, though of Ætolian race, The son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed.” Sharply Oileus’ active son replied: “Idomeneus, why thus, before the time, So rashly speak? while the high-stepping steeds Are speeding yet across the distant plain. Thine eyes are not the youngest in the camp, Nor look they out the sharpest from thy head; But thou art ever hasty in thy speech, And ill becomes thee this precipitance. Since others are there here, thy betters far. The same are leading now, that led at first, Eumelus’ mares; ’tis he that holds the reins.” To whom in anger thus the Cretan chief: “Ajax, at wrangling good, in judgment naught, And for aught else, among the chiefs of Greece Of small account—so stubborn is thy soul; Wilt thou a tripod or a caldron stake, And Agamemnon, Atreus’ son, appoint The umpire to decide whose steeds are first? So shalt thou gain thy knowledge at thy cost.” He said; up sprang Oileus’ active son, In anger to reply; and farther yet Had gone the quarrel, but Achilles’ self Stood up, and thus the rival chiefs address’d: “Forbear, both Ajax and Idomeneus, This bitter interchange of wordy war; It is not seemly; and yourselves, I know, Another would condemn, who so should speak. But stay ye here, and seated in the ring, Their coming wait; they, hurrying to the goal, Will soon be here; and then shall each man know Whose horses are the second, whose the first.” Thus he; but Tydeus’ son drew near, his lash Still laid upon his horses’ shoulder-points; As lightly they, high-stepping, scour’d the plain. Still on the charioteer the dust was flung; As close upon the flying-footed steeds Follow’d the car with gold and tin inlaid; And lightly, as they flew along, were left Impress’d the wheel-tracks on the sandy plain. There in the midst he stood, the sweat profuse Down-pouring from his horses’ heads and chests; Down from the glitt’ring car he leap’d to earth, And lean’d his whip against the chariot yoke; Nor long delay’d the valiant Sthenelus, But eagerly sprang forth to claim the prize; Then to his brave companions gave in charge To lead away the woman, and to bear The tripod, while himself unyok’d the steeds. Nest came the horses of Antilochus, Who had by stratagem, and not by speed, O’er Menelaus triumph’d; yet e’en so Atrides’ flying coursers press’d him hard; For but so far as from the chariot-wheel A horse, when harness’d to a royal car; Whose tail, back-streaming, with the utmost hairs Brushes the felloes; close before the wheel, Small space between, he scours the wide-spread plain: So far was Menelaus in the rear Of Nestor’s son; at first, a discus’ cast Between them lay; but rapidly his ground He gain’d—so well the speed and courage serv’d Of Æthe, Agamemnon’s beauteous mare; And, but a little farther were the course, Had pass’d him by, nor left the race in doubt. Behind the noble son of Atreus came, A jav’lin’s flight apart, Meriones, The faithful follower of Idomeneus: His were the slowest horses, and himself The least experienc’d in the rapid race. Dragging his broken car, came last of all, His horses driv’n in front, Admetus’ son; Achilles swift of foot with pity saw, And to the Greeks his winged words address’d: “See where the best of all the last appears; But let him take, as meet, the second prize; The first belongs of right to Tydeus’ son.” Thus he; they all assented to his words; And, by the gen’ral voice of Greece, the mare Had now been his; but noble Nestor’s son, Antilochus, stood up, his right to claim, And to Achilles, Peleus’ son, replied: “Achilles, thou wilt do me grievous wrong, If thou thy words accomplish; for my prize Thou tak’st away, because mishap befell His car and horses, by no fault of his; Yet had he to th’ Immortals made his pray’r, He surely had not thus been last of all. But, pitying him, if so thy mind incline, Thy tents contain good store of gold, and brass, And sheep, and female slaves, and noble steeds; For him, of these, hereafter mayst thou take A prize of higher value; or e’en now, And with th’ applause of all; but for the mare, I will not give her up; and let who will Stand forth, my own right hand shall guard my prize.” He said; and smil’d Achilles swift of foot, Delighted; for he lov’d the noble youth, To whom his winged words he thus address’d: “Antilochus, if such be thy request, That for Eumelus I should add a prize, This too I grant thee; and to him I give My breastplate, from Asteropaeus won, Of brass, around whose edge is roll’d a stream Of shining tin; a gift of goodly price.” He said, and bade Automedon, his friend And comrade, bring the breastplate from his tent; He went, and brought it; in Eumelus’ hand He plac’d it; he with joy the gift receiv’d. Then Menelaus, sad at heart, arose, Burning with wrath against Antilochus; And while the herald in the monarch’s hand His royal sceptre plac’d, and bade the Greeks Keep silence, thus the godlike hero spoke: “Antilochus, till now reputed wise, What hast thou done? thou hast impugn’d my skill, And sham’d my horses, who hast brought thine own, Inferior far, before them to the goal. But come, ye chiefs and councillors of Greece, Judge ye between us, fav’ring neither side: That none of all the brass-clad Greeks may say That Menelaus hath by false reports O’erborne Antilochus, and holds his prize: His horses fairly worsted, and himself Triumphant only by superior pow’r. Or come now, I myself will judgment give; Nor deem I any Greek will find to blame In my decision, for ’tis fair and just. Antilochus, come forward, noble chief; And standing, as ’tis meet, before the car And horses, in thy hand the slender whip Wherewith thou drov’st, upon the horses lay Thy hand, and by Earth-shaking Neptune swear That not of malice, and by set design, Thou didst by fraud impede my chariot’s course.” To whom Antilochus with prudent speech: “Have patience with me yet; for I, O King, O Menelaus, am thy junior far; My elder and superior thee I own. Thou know’st th’ o’er-eager vehemence of youth, How quick in temper, and in judgment weak. Set then thy heart at ease; the mare I won I freely give; and if aught else of mine Thou shouldst desire, would sooner give it all, Than all my life be low’r’d, illustrious King, In thine esteem, and sin against the Gods.” Thus saying, noble Nestor’s son led forth, And plac’d in Menelaus’ hands the mare: The monarch’s soul was melted, like the dew Which glitters on the ears of growing corn, That bristle o’er the plain; e’en so thy soul, O Menelaus, melted at his speech; To whom were thus address’d thy winged words: “Antilochus, at once I lay aside My anger; thou art prudent, and not apt To be thus led astray; but now thy youth Thy judgment hath o’erpow’r’d; seek not henceforth By trick’ry o’er thine elders to prevail. To any other man of all the Greeks I scarce so much had yielded; but for that Thyself hast labour’d much, and much endur’d, Thou, thy good sire, and brother, in my cause: I yield me to thy pray’rs; and give, to boot, The mare, though mine of right; that these may know I am not of a harsh, unyielding mood.” He said, and to Noemon gave in charge, The faithful comrade of Antilochus, The mare; himself the glitt’ring caldron took. Of gold two talents, to the fourth assign’d, Fourth in the race, Meriones receiv’d; Still the fifth prize, a vase with double cup, Remain’d; Achilles this to Nestor gave, Before th’ assembled Greeks, as thus he spoke: “Take this, old man, and for an heirloom keep, In mem’ry of Patroclus’ fun’ral games, Whom thou no more amid the Greeks shalt see. Freely I give it thee; for thou no more Canst box, or wrestle, or in sportive strife The jav’lin throw, or race with flying feet; For age with heavy hand hath bow’d thee down.” He said, and plac’d it in his hand; th’ old man Beceiv’d with joy the gift, and thus replied: “All thou hast said, my son, is simple truth: No firmness now my limbs and feet retain, Nor can my arms with freedom, as of old, Straight from the shoulder, right and left, strike out. Oh that such youth and vigour yet were mine, As when th’ Epeians in Buprasium held The royal Amarynceus’ fun’ral games, And when the monarch’s sons his prizes gave! Then could not one of all th’ Epeian race, Or Pylians, or Ætolians, vie with me. In boxing, Clytomedes, Œnops’ son, I vanquished; then Anchaeus, who stood up To wrestle with me, I with ease o’erthrew; Iphiclus I outran, though fleet of foot; In hurling with the spear, with Phyleus strove, And Polydorus, and surpass’d them both. The sons of Actor in the chariot-race Alone o’ercame me; as in number more,[8] And grudging more my triumph, since remain’d, This contest to reward, the richest prize. They were twin brothers; one who held the reins, Still drove, and drove; the other plied the whip. Such was I once; but now must younger men Engage in deeds like these; and I, the chief Of heroes once, must bow to weary age. But honour thou with fitting fun’ral games Thy comrade: I accept, well-pleas’d, thy gift, My heart rejoicing that thou still retain’st Of me a kindly mem’ry, nor o’erlook’st The place of honour, which among the Greeks Belongs to me of right; for this, the Gods Reward thee with a worthy recompense!” He said; Achilles listen’d to the praise Of Neleus’ son; then join’d the gen’ral throng. Next, he set forth the prizes, to reward The labours of the sturdy pugilists; A hardy mule he tether’d in the ring, Unbroken, six years old, most hard to tame; And for the vanquished man, a double cup; Then rose, and to the Greeks proclaim’d aloud: “Thou son of Atreus, and ye well-greav’d Greeks, For these we bid two champions brave stand forth. And in the boxer’s manly toil contend; And he, whose stern endurance Phoebus crowns With vict’ry, recogniz’d by all the Greeks, He to his tent shall lead the hardy mule; The loser shall the double cup receive.” He said; up sprang Epeius, tall and stout, A boxer skill’d, the son of Panopeus, Who laid his hand upon the mule, and said: “Stand forth, if any care the cup to win; The mule, methinks, no Greek can bear away From me, who glory in the champion’s name. Is’t not enough, that in the battle-field I claim no special praise? ’tis not for man In all things to excel; but this I say, And will make good my words, who meets me here, I mean to pound his flesh, and smash his bones. See that his seconds be at hand, and prompt To bear him from the ring, by me subdued.” He said; they all in silence heard his speech: Only Euryalus, a godlike chief, Son of Mecistheus, Talaion’s son, Stood forth opposing; he had once in Thebes Join’d in the fun’ral games of Œdipus, And there had vanquish’d all of Cadmian race. On him attended valiant Diomed, With cheering words, and wishes of success. Around his waist he fasten’d first the belt, Then gave the well-cut gauntlets for his hands. Of wild bull’s hide. When both were thus equipp’d, Into the centre of the ring they stepp’d: There, face to face, with sinewy arms uprais’d, They stood awhile, then clos’d; strong hand with hand Mingling, in rapid interchange of blows. Dire was the clatter of their jaws; the sweat Pour’d forth, profuse, from ev’ry limb; then rush’d Epeius on, and full upon the cheek, Half turn’d aside, let fall a stagg’ring blow; Nor stood Euryalus; but, legs and feet Knock’d from beneath him, prone to earth he fell; And as a fish, that flounders on the sand, Thrown by rude Boreas on the weedy beach, Till cover’d o’er by the returning wave; So flounder’d he beneath that stunning blow. But brave Epeius took him by the hand, And rais’d him up; his comrades crowded round And bore him from the field, with dragging steps, Spitting forth clotted gore, his heavy head Rolling from side to side; within his tent They laid him down, unconscious; to the ring Then back returning, bore away the cup. Achilles next before the Greeks display’d The prizes of the hardy wrestlers’ skill: The victor’s prize, a tripod vast, fire-proof, And at twelve oxen by the Greeks apprais’d; And for the vanquish’d man, a female slave Pric’d at four oxen, skill’d in household work. Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d, “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay.” He said; and straight uprose the giant form Of Ajax Telamon; with him uprose Ulysses, skill’d in ev’ry crafty wile. Girt with the belt, within the ring they stood, And each, with stalwart grasp, laid hold on each; As stand two rafters of a lofty house, Each propping each, by skilful architect Design’d the tempest’s fury to withstand. Creak’d their backbones beneath the tug and strain Of those strong arms; their sweat pour’d down like rain; And bloody weals of livid purple hue Their sides and shoulders streak’d, as sternly they For vict’ry and the well-wrought tripod strove. Nor could Ulysses Ajax overthrow, Nor Ajax bring Ulysses to the ground, So stubbornly he stood; but when the Greeks Were weary of the long-protracted strife, Thus to Ulysses mighty Ajax spoke: “Ulysses sage, Laertes’ godlike son, Or lift thou me, or I will thee uplift: The issue of our struggle rests with Jove.” He said, and rais’d Ulysses from the ground; Nor he his ancient craft remember’d not, But lock’d his leg around, and striking sharp Upon the hollow of the knee, the joint Gave way; the giant Ajax backwards fell, Ulysses on his breast; the people saw, And marvell’d. Then in turn Ulysses strove Ajax to lift; a little way he mov’d, But fail’d to lift him fairly from, the ground; Yet crook’d his knee, that both together fell, And side by side, defil’d with dust, they lay. And now a third encounter had they tried But rose Achilles, and the combat stay’d: “Forbear, nor waste your strength, in farther strife; Ye both are victors; both then bear away An equal meed of honour; and withdraw, That other Greeks may other contests wage.” Thus spoke Achilles: they his words obey’d, And brushing off the dust, their garments donn’d. The prizes of the runners, swift of foot, Achilles next set forth; a silver bowl, Six measures its content, for workmanship Unmatch’d on earth, of Sidon’s costliest art The product rare; thence o’er the misty sea Brought by Phoenicians, who, in port arriv’d, Gave it to Thoas; by Euneus last, The son of Jason, to Patroclus paid, In ransom of Lycaon, Priam’s son; Which now Achilles, on his friend’s behalf, Assign’d as his reward, whoe’er should prove The lightest foot, and speediest in the race. A steer, well fatten’d, was the second prize, And half a talent, for the third, of gold. He rose, and to the Greeks proclaim’d aloud, “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay.” He said: uprose Oileus’ active son; Uprose Ulysses, skill’d in ev’ry wile, And noble Nestor’s son, Antilochus, Who all the youth in speed of foot surpass’d. They stood in line: Achilles pointed out The limits of the course; as from the goal They stretch’d them to the race, Oileus’ son First shot ahead; Ulysses following close; Nor farther than the shuttle from the breast Of some fair woman, when her outstretch’d arm Has thrown the woof athwart the warp, and back Withdraws it tow’rd her breast; so close behind Ulysses press’d on Ajax, and his feet Trod in his steps, ere settled yet the dust. His breath was on his shoulders, as the plain He lightly skimm’d; the Greeks with eager shouts Still cheering, as he strain’d to win the prize. But as they near’d the goal, Ulysses thus To blue-ey’d Pallas made his mental pray’r: “Now hear me, Goddess, and my feet befriend.” Thus as he pray’d, his pray’r the Goddess heard, And all his limbs with active vigour fill’d; And, as they stretch’d their hands to seize the prize, Tripp’d up by Pallas, Ajax slipp’d and fell, Amid the offal of the lowing kine Which o’er Patroclus Peleus’ son had slain. His mouth and nostrils were with offal fill’d. First in the race, Ulysses bore away The silver bowl; the steer to Ajax fell; And as upon the horn he laid his hand, Sputt’ring the offal out, he call’d aloud: “Lo, how the Goddess has my steps bewray’d, Who guards Ulysses with a mother’s care.” Thus as he spoke, loud laugh’d the merry Greeks. Antilochus the sole remaining prize Receiv’d, and, laughing, thus the Greeks address’d: “I tell you, friends, but what yourselves do know, How of the elder men th’ immortal Gods Take special care; for Ajax’ years not much Exceed mine own; but here we see a man, One of a former age, and race of men; A hale old man we call him; but for speed Not one can match him, save Achilles’ self.” Thus he, with praise implied of Peleus’ son; To whom in answer thus Achilles spoke: “Antilochus, not unobserv’d of me Nor unrewarded shall thy praise remain: To thy half talent add this second half.” Thus saying, in his hand he plac’d the gold; Antilochus with joy the gift receiv’d. Next, in the ring the son of Peleus laid A pond’rous spear, a helmet, and a shield, The spoil Patroclus from Sarpedon won; Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d: “For these we call upon two champions brave To don their arms, their sharp-edg’d weapons grasp, And public trial of their prowess make; And he who first his rival’s flesh shall reach, And, through his armour piercing, first draw blood, He shall this silver-studded sword receive, My trophy from Asteropaeus won, Well-wrought, of Thracian metal; but the arms In common property they both shall hold, And in my tent a noble banquet share.” He said; uprose great Ajax Telamon, And Tydeus’ son, the valiant Diomed. First, from the crowd apart, they donn’d their arms; Then, eager for the fight, with haughty stare Stood in the midst; the Greeks admiring gaz’d. When, each approaching other, near they came, Thrice rush’d they on, and thrice in combat clos’d. Then through the buckler round of Diomed Great Ajax drove his spear; nor reach’d the point Tydides’ body, by the breastplate stay’d: While, aim’d above the mighty shield’s defence, His glitt’ring weapon flash’d at Ajax’ throat. For Ajax fearing, shouted then the Greeks To cease the fight, and share alike the prize; But from Achilles’ hand the mighty sword, With belt and scabbard, Diomed receiv’d. Next in the ring the son of Peleus plac’d A pond’rous mass of iron, as a quoit Once wielded by Eetion’s giant strength, But to the ships with other trophies borne, When by Achilles’ hand Eetion fell. Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d: “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay. This prize who wins, though widely may extend His fertile fields, for five revolving years It will his wants supply; nor to the town For lack of iron, with this mass in store, Need he his shepherd or his ploughman send.” He said; and valiant Polypoetes rose, Epeius, and Leonteus’ godlike strength, And mighty Ajax, son of Telamon. In turns they took their stand; Epeius first Uprais’d the pond’rous mass, and through the air Hurl’d it, amid the laughter of the Greeks. Next came Leonteus, scion true of Mars; The third was Ajax; from whose stalwart hand Beyond the farthest mark the missile flew. But when the valiant Polypoetes took The quoit in hand, far as a herdsman throws His staff, that, whirling, flies among the herd; So far beyond the ring’s extremest bound He threw the pond’rous mass; loud were the shouts; And noble Polypoetes’ comrades rose, And to the ships the monarch’s gift convey’d. The archers’ prizes next, of iron hoar, Ten sturdy axes, double-edg’d, he plac’d, And single hatchets ten; then far away Rear’d on the sand a dark-prow’d vessel’s mast, On which, with slender string, a tim’rous dove Was fasten’d by the foot, the archers’ mark; That who should strike the dove should to his tent The axes bear away; but who the string Should sever, but should fail to strike the bird, As less in skill, the hatchets should receive. Thus spoke Achilles; straight uprose the might Of royal Teucer, and Meriones, The faithful follower of Idomeneus. They in a brass-bound helmet shook the lots. The first was Teucer’s; with impetuous force He shot; but vow’d not to the Archer-King Of firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb. The dove he struck not, for the Archer-God Withheld his aid; but close beside her foot The arrow sever’d the retaining string. The bird releas’d, soar’d heav’nward; while the string Dropp’d, from the mast suspended, tow’rds the earth, And loudly shouted their applause the Greeks. Then snatch’d Meriones in haste the bow From Teucer’s hand; his own already held His arrow, pointed straight; he drew the string, And to the far-destroying King he vow’d Of firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb. Aloft amid the clouds he mark’d the dove, And struck her, as she soar’d, beneath the wing; Right through the arrow pass’d; and to the earth Returning, fell beside Meriones. The bird upon the dark-prow’d vessel’s mast Lighted awhile; anon, with drooping head, And pinions flutt’ring vain, afar she fell, Lifeless; th’ admiring crowd with wonder gaz’d. Meriones the axes bore away, While Teucer to the ships the hatchets bore. Last, in the ring the son of Peleus laid A pond’rous spear, and caldron, burnish’d bright, Pric’d at an ox’s worth, untouch’d by fire, For those who with the jav’lin would contend. Uprose then Agamemnon, King of men, The son of Atreus, and Meriones, The faithful follower of Idomeneus: But Peleus’ godlike son address’d them thus: “How far, Atrides, thou excell’st us all, And with the jav’lin what thy pow’r and skill Pre-eminent, we know; take thou this prize, And bear it to thy ships; and let us give To brave Meriones the brazen spear; If so it please thee, such were my advice.” He said; and Agamemnon, King of men, Assenting, gave to brave Meriones The brazen spear; while in Talthybius’ care, His herald, plac’d the King his noble prize. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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