The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature) (58 page)

Book 20

The Greeks thus arm’d, and made insatiate with desire of fight,

About thee, Peleus’ son, the foe, in ground of greatest height,

Stood opposite rang’d. Then Jove charg’d Themis from Olympus’ top

To call a court; she every way dispers’d, and summon’d up

All deities: not any flood (besides Oceanus)

But made appearance; not a nymph (that arbours odorous,

The heads of floods and flow’ry meadows make their sweet abodes)

Was absent there; but all at his court that is king of gods

Assembled, and in lightsome seats of admirable frame

(Perform’d for Jove by Vulcan) sat. Ev’n angry Neptune came,

Nor heard the goddess with unwilling ear, but with the rest

Made free ascension from the sea, and did his state invest

In midst of all, began the council, and inquir’d of Jove

His reason for that session, and on what point did move

His high intention for the foes; he thought the heat of war

Was then near breaking out in flames. To him the Thunderer:

‘Thou know’st this council by the rest of those fore-purposes

That still inclin’d me; my cares still must succour the distress

Of Troy, though in the mouth of Fate, yet vow I not to stir

One step from off this top of heav’n, but all th’ affair refer

To any one. Here I’ll hold state, and freely take the joy

Of either’s fate: help whom ye please, for ’tis assur’d that Troy

Not one day’s conflict can sustain against Aeacides,

If heav’n oppose not. His mere looks threw darts enow t’ impress

Their pow’rs with trembling, but when blows sent from his fiery hand

(Thrice heat by slaughter of his friend) shall come and countermand

Their former glories, we have fear, that though Fate keep their wall,

He’ll overturn it. Then descend, and cease not till ye all

Add all your aids; mix earth and heav’n together with the fight

Achilles urgeth.’ These his words did such a war excite

As no man’s pow’r could wrastle down; the gods with parted hearts

Departed heav’n, and made earth war. To guide the Grecian darts,

Juno and Pallas, with the god that doth the earth embrace,

And most-for-man’s-use Mercury (whom good wise inwards grace)

Were partially and all employ’d; and with them halted down

(Proud of his strength) lame Mulciber, his walkers quite misgrown,

But made him tread exceeding sure. To aid the Ilian side,

The changeable-in-arms went (Mars), and him accompanied

Diana, that delights in shafts, and Phoebus never shorn,

And Aphrodite, laughter-pleas’d, and she of whom was born

Still young Apollo, and the flood that runs on golden sands,

Bright Xanthus. All these aided Troy, and till these lent their hands

The Grecians triumph’d in the aid Aeacides did add,

The Trojans trembling with his sight, so gloriously clad

He overshin’d the field, and Mars no harmfuller than he.

He bore the iron stream on clear, but when Jove’s high decree

Let fall the gods amongst their troops, the field swell’d, and the light

Grew fierce and horrible. The dame that armies doth excite

Thunder’d with clamour, sometimes set at dike without the wall,

And sometimes on the bellowing shore. On th’ other side, the call

Of Mars to fight was terrible, he cried out like a storm,

Set on the city’s pinnacles; and there he would inform

Sometimes his heart’nings; other times, where Simois pours on

His silver current, at the foot of high Callicolon.

And thus the bless’d gods both sides urg’d; they all stood in the mids,

And brake contention to the hosts. And over all their heads

The gods’ king in abhorred claps his thunder rattled out,

Beneath them Neptune toss’d the earth, the mountains round about

Bow’d with affright, and shook their heads: Jove’s hill the earthquake felt

(Steep Ida), trembling at her roots, and all her fountains spilt,

Their brows all crannied. Troy did nod, the Grecian navy play’d

(As on the sea): th’ infernal king, that all things frays, was fray’d,

And leap’d affrighted from his throne; cried out, lest over him

Neptune should rend in two the earth; and so his house, so dim,

So loathsome, filthy, and abhorr’d of all the gods beside,

Should open both to gods and men. Thus all things shook and cried

When this black battle of the gods was joining, thus array’d:

’Gainst Neptune, Phoebus with wing’d shafts; ’gainst Mars the blue-ey’d Maid;

’Gainst Juno, Phoebe, whose white hands bore singing darts of gold,

Her side arm’d with a sheaf of shafts, and (by the birth twofold

Of bright Latona) sister twin to him that shoots so far;

Against Latona, Hermes stood (grave guard, in peace and war,

Of human beings); against the god whose empire is in fire,

The wat’ry godhead, that great flood, to show whose pow’r entire

In spoil as th’ other, all his stream on lurking whirlpits trod –

Xanthus by gods, by men Scamander call’d. Thus god ’gainst god

Enter’d the field. Aeacides sustain’d a fervent mind

To cope with Hector; past all these, his spirit stood inclin’d

To glut Mars with the blood of him. And at Aeacides

Apollo set Anchises’ son. But first he did impress

A more than natural strength in him, and made him feel th’ excess

Infus’d from heav’n. Lycaon’s shape gave show to his address

(Old Priam’s son), and thus he spake: ‘Thou counsellor of Troy,

Where now fly out those threats that late put all our peers in joy

Of thy fight with Aeacides? Thy tongue once (steep’d in wine)

Durst vaunt as much.’ He answer’d him: ‘But why wouldst thou incline

My pow’rs ’gainst that proud enemy, and ’gainst my present heat?

I mean not now to bid him blows; that fear sounds my retreat,

That heretofore discourag’d me, when after he had ras’d

Lyrnessus and strong Pedasus, his still breath’d fury chas’d

Our oxen from th’ Idaean hill, and set on me; but Jove

Gave strength and knees, and bore me off, that had not walk’d above

This centre now, but propp’d by him. Minerva’s hand (that held

A light to this her favourite, whose beams show’d and impell’d

His pow’rs to spoil) had ruin’d me. For these ears heard her cry,

“Kill, kill the seed of Ilion, kill th’ Asian Lelegi.”

Mere man then must not fight with him that still hath gods to friend,

Averting death on others’ darts, and giving his no end

But with the ends of men. If god like fortune in the fight

Would give my forces, not with ease wing’d victory should light

On his proud shoulders, nor he ’scape, though all of brass he boasts

His plight consisteth.’ He replied: ‘Pray thou those gods of hosts,

Whom he implores, as well as he, and his chance may be thine;

Thou cam’st of gods like him: the queen that reigns in Salamine

Fame sounds thy mother, he deriv’d of lower deity,

Old Nereus’ daughter bearing him. Bear then thy heart as high,

And thy unwearied steel as right; nor utterly be beat

With only cruelty of words, not proof against a threat.’

This strengthen’d him, and forth he rush’d, nor could his strength’ning fly

White-wristed Juno, nor his drifts. She every deity

Of th’ Achive faction call’d to her, and said: ‘Ye must have care

(Neptune and Pallas) for the frame of this important war

Ye undertake here; Venus’ son (by Phoebus being impell’d)

Runs on Achilles. Turn him back, or see our friend upheld

By one of us. Let not the spirit of Aeacides

Be over-dar’d, but make him know the mightiest deities

Stand kind to him; and that the gods, protectors of these tow’rs

That fight against Greece, and were here before our eminent pow’rs,

Bear no importance. And besides, that all we stoop from heav’n

To curb this fight, that no impair be to his person giv’n

By any Trojans, nor their aids, while this day bears the sun.

Hereafter, all things that are wrapp’d in his birth thread, and spun

By Parcas (in that point of time his mother gave him air)

He must sustain. But if report perform not the repair

Of all this to him, by the voice of some immortal state,

He may be fearful (if some god should set on him) that fate

Makes him her minister. The gods, when they appear to men

And manifest their proper forms, are passing dreadful then.’

Neptune replied: ‘Saturnia, at no time let your care

Exceed your reason; ’tis not fit. Where only humans are,

We must not mix the hands of gods, our odds is too extreme.

Sit we by, in some place of height, where we may see to them,

And leave the wars of men to men. But if we see from thence

Or Mars or Phoebus enter fight, or offer least offence

To Thetis’ son, not giving free way to his conquering rage,

Then comes the conflict to our cares; we soon shall disengage

Achilles, and send them to heav’n, to settle their abode

With equals, flying under-strifes.’ This said, the black-hair’d god

Led to the tow’r of Hercules, built circular and high

By Pallas and the Ilians, for fit security

To Jove’s divine son, ’gainst the whale that drave him from the shore

To th’ ample field. There Neptune sat, and all the gods that bore

The Greeks good meaning, casting all thick mantles made of clouds

On their bright shoulders. Th’ oppos’d gods sat hid in other shrouds

On top of steep Callicolon, about thy golden sides,

O Phoebus, brandisher of darts; and thine, whose rage abides

No peace in cities. In this state, these gods in council sate,

All ling’ring purpos’d fight, to try who first would elevate

His heavenly weapon. High-thron’d Jove cried out to set them on,

Said all the field was full of men, and that the earth did groan

With feet of proud encounterers, burn’d with the arms of men

And barbed horse. Two champions for both the armies then

Met in their midst, prepar’d for blows: divine Aeacides

And Venus’ son. Aeneas first stepp’d threat’ning forth the press,

His high helm nodding, and his breast barr’d with a shady shield,

And shook his javelin. Thetis’ son did his part to the field.

As when the harmful king of beasts (sore threaten’d to be slain,

By all the country up in arms) at first makes coy disdain

Prepare resistance, but at last when any one hath led

Bold charge upon him with his dart, he then turns yawning head,

Fell anger lathers in his jaws, his great heart swells, his stern

Lasheth his strength up, sides and thighs waddled with stripes to learn

Their own pow’r, his eyes glow, he roars, and in he leaps to kill,

Secure of killing: so his pow’r then rous’d up to his will

Matchless Achilles, coming on to meet Anchises’ son.

Both near, Achilles thus inquir’d: ‘Why stand’st thou thus alone,

Thou son of Venus? Calls thy heart to change of blows with me?

Sure Troy’s whole kingdom is propos’d; some one hath promis’d thee

The throne of Priam for my life; but Priam’s self is wise,

And (for my slaughter) not so mad to make his throne thy prize.

Priam hath sons to second him. Is ’t then some piece of land,

Past others fit to set and sow, that thy victorious hand

The Ilians offer for my head? I hope that prize will prove

No easy conquest: once, I think, my busy javelin drove

(With terror) those thoughts from your spleen. Retain’st thou not the time

When single on th’ Idaean hill I took thee with the crime

Of runaway, thy oxen left, and when thou hadst no face

That I could see; thy knees bereft it, and Lyrnessus was

The mask for that. Then that mask, too, I open’d to the air

(By Jove and Pallas’ help), and took the free light from the fair,

Your ladies bearing prisoners. But Jove and th’ other gods

Then sav’d thee; yet again I hope they will not add their odds

To save thy wants, as thou presum’st; retire then, aim not at

Troy’s throne by me. Fly ere thy soul flies; fools are wise too late.’

He answer’d him: ‘Hope not that words can child-like terrify

My stroke-proof breast. I well could speak in this indecency,

And use tart terms; but we know well what stock us both put out,

Too gentle to bear fruits so rude. Our parents ring about

The world’s round bosom; and by fame their dignities are blown

To both our knowledges, by sight neither to either known –

Thine to mine eyes, nor mine to thine. Fame sounds thy worthiness

From famous Peleus, the sea-nymph that hath the lovely tress

(Thetis) thy mother; I myself affirm my sire to be

Great-soul’d Anchises, she that holds the Paphian deity

My mother; and of these, this light is now t’ exhale the tears

For their lov’d issue – thee or me. Childish, unworthy dares

Are not enough to part our pow’rs; for if thy spirits want

Due excitation (by distrust of that desert I vaunt)

To set up all rests for my life, I’ll lineally prove

(Which many will confirm) my race. First, cloud-commanding Jove

Was sire to Dardanus that built Dardania; for the walls

Of sacred Ilion spread not yet, these fields, those fair-built halls

Of divers-languag’d men not rais’d; all then made populous

The foot of Ida’s fountful hill. This Jove-got Dardanus

Begot king Ericthonius, for wealth past all compares

Of living mortals; in his fens he fed three thousand mares,

All neighing by their tender foals; of which twice six were bred