Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/264

262 Unwilling as I am to lose the host,

I force not Greece to quit this hateful coast.

Glad I submit, whoe'er, or young or old,

Aught more conducive to our weal unfold."

Tydides cut him short, and thus began:

"Such counsel if ye seek, behold the man

Who boldly gives it, and what he shall say,

Young though he be, disdain not to obey:

A youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs,

May speak to councils and assembled kings.

Hear then in me the great Œnides' son,

Whose honoured dust, his race of glory run,

Lies whelmed in ruins of the Theban wall,

Brave in his life, and glorious in his fall.

With three bold sons was generous Prothous blessed,

Who Pleuron's walls and Calydon possessed:

Melas and Agrius, but, who far surpassed

The rest in courage, Œneus was the last:

From him, my sire. From Calydon expelled,

He passed to Argos, and in exile dwelled;

The monarch's daughter there, so Jove ordained,

He won, and flourished where Adrastus reigned:

There, rich in fortune's gifts, his acres tilled,

Beheld his vines their liquid harvest yield,

And numerous flocks that whitened all the field.

Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in fame,

Nor lives in Greece a stranger to his name.

Then, what for common good my thoughts inspire,

Attend, and in the son respect the sire.

Though sore of battle, though with wounds oppressed,

Let each go forth, and animate the rest,

Advance the glory which he cannot share,

Though not partaker, witness of the war.

But lest new wounds on wounds o'erpower us quite,

Beyond the missile javelin's sounding flight,

Safe let us stand; and, from the tumult far,

Inspire the ranks, and rule the distant war."

He added not: the listening kings obey,

Slow moving on; Atrides leads the way.

The god of Ocean, to inflame their rage,

Appears a warrior furrowed o'er with age;

Pressed in his own, the general's hand he took,

And thus the venerable hero spoke:

"Atrides, lo! with what disdainful eye

Achilles sees his country's forces fly:

Blind impious man! whose anger is his guide,

Who glories in unutterable pride.

So may he perish, so may Jove disclaim

The wretch relentless, and o'erwhelm with shame!