The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (Cowper)/Volume 1/The Iliad/Book VI

 ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK.

 BOOK VI.



Thus was the field forsaken by the Gods. And now success proved various; here the Greeks With their extended spears, the Trojans there Prevail'd alternate, on the champain spread The Xanthus and the Simoïs between.

First Telamonian Ajax, bulwark firm Of the Achaians, broke the Trojan ranks, And kindled for the Greeks a gleam of hope, Slaying the bravest of the Thracian band, Huge Acamas, Eusorus' son; him first Full on the shaggy crest he smote, and urged The spear into his forehead; through his skull The bright point pass'd, and darkness veil'd his eyes. But Diomede, heroic Chief, the son Of Teuthras slew, Axylus. Rich was he, And in Arisba (where he dwelt beside The public road, and at his open door Made welcome all) respected and beloved. But of his numerous guests none interposed To avert his woful doom; nor him alone He slew, but with him also to the shades Calesius sent, his friend and charioteer.

Opheltius fell and Dresus, by the hand Slain of Euryalus, who, next, his arms On Pedasus and on Æsepus turned Brethren and twins. Them Abarbarea bore, A Naiad, to Bucolion, son renown'd Of King Laomedon, his eldest born, But by his mother, at his birth, conceal'd. Bucolion pasturing his flocks, embraced The lovely nymph; she twins produced, both whom, Brave as they were and beautiful, thy son Mecisteus! slew, and from their shoulders tore Their armor. Dauntless Polypœtes slew Astyalus. Ulysses with his spear Transfixed Pydites, a Percosian Chief, And Teucer Aretaön; Nestor's pride Antilochus, with his bright lance, of life Bereft Ablerus, and the royal arm Of Agamemnon, Elatus; he dwelt Among the hills of lofty Pedasus, On Satnio's banks, smooth-sliding river pure Phylacus fled, whom Leïtus as swift Soon smote. Melanthius at the feet expired Of the renown'd Eurypylus, and, flush'd With martial ardor, Menelaus seized And took alive Adrastus. As it chanced A thicket his affrighted steeds detain'd Their feet entangling; they with restive force At its extremity snapp'd short the pole, And to the city, whither others fled, Fled also. From his chariot headlong hurl'd, Adrastus press'd the plain fast by his wheel. Flew Menelaus, and his quivering spear Shook over him; he, life imploring, clasp'd Importunate his knees, and thus exclaim'd.

Oh, son of Atreus, let me live! accept Illustrious ransom! In my father's house Is wealth abundant, gold, and brass, and steel Of truest temper, which he will impart Till he have gratified thine utmost wish, Inform'd that I am captive in your fleet.

He said, and Menelaus by his words Vanquish'd, him soon had to the fleet dismiss'd Given to his train in charge, but swift and stern Approaching, Agamemnon interposed.

Now, brother, whence this milkiness of mind, These scruples about blood? Thy Trojan friends Have doubtless much obliged thee. Die the race! May none escape us! neither he who flies, Nor even the infant in his mother's womb Unconscious. Perish universal Troy Unpitied, till her place be found no more!

So saying, his brother's mind the Hero turn'd, Advising him aright; he with his hand Thrust back Adrastus, and himself, the King, His bowels pierced. Supine Adrastus fell, And Agamemnon, with his foot the corse Impressing firm, pluck'd forth his ashen spear. Then Nestor, raising high his voice, exclaim'd.

Friends, Heroes, Grecians, ministers of Mars! Let none, desirous of the spoil, his time Devote to plunder now; now slay your foes, And strip them when the field shall be your own.

He said, and all took courage at his word.

Then had the Trojans enter'd Troy again By the heroic Grecians foul repulsed, So was their spirit daunted, but the son Of Priam, Helenus, an augur far Excelling all, at Hector's side his speech To him and to Æneas thus address'd.

Hector, and thou, Æneas, since on you The Lycians chiefly and ourselves depend, For that in difficult emprize ye show Most courage; give best counsel; stand yourselves, And, visiting all quarters, cause to stand Before the city-gates our scatter'd troops, Ere yet the fugitives within the arms Be slaughter'd of their wives, the scorn of Greece. When thus ye shall have rallied every band And roused their courage, weary though we be, Yet since necessity commands, even here Will we give battle to the host of Greece. But, Hector! to the city thou depart; There charge our mother, that she go direct, With the assembled matrons, to the fane Of Pallas in the citadel of Troy. Opening her chambers' sacred doors, of all Her treasured mantles there, let her select The widest, most magnificently wrought, And which she values most; that let her spread On Athenæan Pallas' lap divine. Twelve heifers of the year yet never touch'd With puncture of the goad, let her alike Devote to her, if she will pity Troy, Our wives and little ones, and will avert The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers, That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host, Bravest, in my account, of all the Greeks. For never yet Achilles hath himself So taught our people fear, although esteemed Son of a Goddess. But this warrior's rage Is boundless, and his strength past all compare.

So Helenus; nor Hector not complied. Down from his chariot instant to the ground All arm'd he leap'd, and, shaking his sharp spears, Through every phalanx pass'd, rousing again Their courage, and rekindling horrid war. They, turning, faced the Greeks; the Greeks repulsed, Ceased from all carnage, nor supposed they less Than that some Deity, the starry skies Forsaken, help'd their foes, so firm they stood. But Hector to the Trojans call'd aloud. Ye dauntless Trojans and confederate powers Call'd from afar! now be ye men, my friends, Now summon all the fury of your might! I go to charge our senators and wives That they address the Gods with prayers and vows For our success, and hecatombs devote.

So saying the Hero went, and as he strode The sable hide that lined his bossy shield Smote on his neck and on his ancle-bone.

And now into the middle space between Both hosts, the son of Tydeus and the son Moved of Hippolochus, intent alike On furious combat; face to face they stood, And thus heroic Diomede began.

Most noble Champion! who of human kind Art thou, whom in the man-ennobling fight I now encounter first? Past all thy peers I must esteem thee valiant, who hast dared To meet my coming, and my spear defy. Ah! they are sons of miserable sires Who dare my might; but if a God from heaven Thou come, behold! I fight not with the Gods. That war Lycurgus son of Dryas waged, And saw not many years. The nurses he Of brain-disturbing Bacchus down the steep Pursued of sacred Nyssa; they their wands Vine-wreathed cast all away, with an ox-goad Chastised by fell Lycurgus. Bacchus plunged Meantime dismay'd into the deep, where him Trembling, and at the Hero's haughty threats Confounded, Thetis in her bosom hid. Thus by Lycurgus were the blessed powers Of heaven offended, and Saturnian Jove Of sight bereaved him, who not long that loss Survived, for he was curst by all above. I, therefore, wage no contest with the Gods; But if thou be of men, and feed on bread Of earthly growth, draw nigh, that with a stroke Well-aim'd, I may at once cut short thy days.

To whom the illustrious Lycian Chief replied. Why asks brave Diomede of my descent? For, as the leaves, such is the race of man. The wind shakes down the leaves, the budding grove Soon teems with others, and in spring they grow. So pass mankind. One generation meets Its destined period, and a new succeeds. But since thou seem'st desirous to be taught My pedigree, whereof no few have heard, Know that in Argos, in the very lap Of Argos, for her steed-grazed meadows famed, Stands Ephyra; there Sisyphus abode, Shrewdest of human kind; Sisyphus, named Æolides. Himself a son begat, Glaucus, and he Bellerophon, to whom The Gods both manly force and beauty gave. Him Prœtus (for in Argos at that time Prœtus was sovereign, to whose sceptre Jove Had subjected the land) plotting his death, Contrived to banish from his native home. For fair Anteia, wife of Prœtus, mad Through love of young Bellerophon, him oft In secret to illicit joys enticed; But she prevail'd not o'er the virtuous mind Discrete of whom she wooed; therefore a lie Framing, she royal Prœtus thus bespake.

Die thou, or slay Bellerophon, who sought Of late to force me to his lewd embrace.

So saying, the anger of the King she roused. Slay him himself he would not, for his heart Forbad the deed; him therefore he dismiss'd To Lycia, charged with tales of dire import Written in tablets, which he bade him show, That he might perish, to Anteia's sire. To Lycia then, conducted by the Gods, He went, and on the shores of Xanthus found Free entertainment noble at the hands Of Lycia's potent King. Nine days complete He feasted him, and slew each day an ox. But when the tenth day's ruddy morn appear'd, He asked him then his errand, and to see Those written tablets from his son-in-law. The letters seen, he bade him, first, destroy Chimæra, deem'd invincible, divine In nature, alien from the race of man, Lion in front, but dragon all behind, And in the midst a she-goat breathing forth Profuse the violence of flaming fire. Her, confident in signs from heaven, he slew. Next, with the men of Solymæ he fought, Brave warriors far renown'd, with whom he waged, In his account, the fiercest of his wars. And lastly, when in battle he had slain The man-resisting Amazons, the king Another stratagem at his return Devised against him, placing close-conceal'd An ambush for him from the bravest chosen In Lycia; but they saw their homes no more; Bellerophon the valiant slew them all. The monarch hence collecting, at the last, His heavenly origin, him there detain'd, And gave him his own daughter, with the half Of all his royal dignity and power. The Lycians also, for his proper use, Large lot assigned him of their richest soil, Commodious for the vine, or for the plow. And now his consort fair three children bore To bold Bellerophon; Isandrus one, And one, Hippolochus; his youngest born Laodamia was for beauty such That she became a concubine of Jove. She bore Sarpedon of heroic note. But when Bellerophon, at last, himself Had anger'd all the Gods, feeding on grief He roam'd alone the Aleian field, exiled, By choice, from every cheerful haunt of man. Mars, thirsty still for blood, his son destroy'd Isandrus, warring with the host renown'd Of Solymæ; and in her wrath divine Diana from her chariot golden-rein'd Laodamia slew. Myself I boast Sprung from Hippolochus; he sent me forth To fight for Troy, charging me much and oft That I should outstrip always all mankind In worth and valor, nor the house disgrace Of my forefathers, heroes without peer In Ephyra, and in Lycia's wide domain. Such is my lineage; such the blood I boast.

He ceased. Then valiant Diomede rejoiced. He pitch'd his spear, and to the Lycian Prince In terms of peace and amity replied.

Thou art my own hereditary friend, Whose noble grandsire was the guest of mine. For Oeneus, on a time, full twenty days Regaled Bellerophon, and pledges fair Of hospitality they interchanged. Oeneus a belt radiant with purple gave To brave Bellerophon, who in return Gave him a golden goblet. Coming forth I left the kind memorial safe at home. A child was I when Tydeus went to Thebes, Where the Achaians perish'd, and of him Hold no remembrance; but henceforth, my friend, Thine host am I in Argos, and thou mine In Lycia, should I chance to sojourn there. We will not clash. Trojans or aids of Troy No few the Gods shall furnish to my spear, Whom I may slaughter; and no want of Greeks On whom to prove thy prowess, thou shalt find. But it were well that an exchange ensued Between us; take mine armor, give me thine, That all who notice us may understand Our patrimonial amity and love.

So they, and each alighting, hand in hand Stood lock'd, faith promising and firm accord. Then Jove of sober judgment so bereft Infatuate Glaucus that with Tydeus' son He barter'd gold for brass, an hundred beeves In value, for the value small of nine.

But Hector at the Scæan gate and beech Meantime arrived, to whose approach the wives And daughters flock'd of Troy, inquiring each The fate of husband, brother, son, or friend. He bade them all with solemn prayer the Gods Seek fervent, for that wo was on the wing.

But when he enter'd Priam's palace, built With splendid porticoes, and which within Had fifty chambers lined with polish'd stone, Contiguous all, where Priam's sons reposed And his sons' wives, and where, on the other side. In twelve magnificent chambers also lined With polish'd marble and contiguous all, The sons-in-law of Priam lay beside His spotless daughters, there the mother queen Seeking the chamber of Laodice, Loveliest of all her children, as she went Met Hector. On his hand she hung and said:

Why leavest thou, O my son! the dangerous field? I fear that the Achaians (hateful name!) Compass the walls so closely, that thou seek'st Urged by distress the citadel, to lift Thine hands in prayer to Jove? But pause awhile Till I shall bring thee wine, that having pour'd Libation rich to Jove and to the powers Immortal, thou may'st drink and be refresh'd. For wine is mighty to renew the strength Of weary man, and weary thou must be Thyself, thus long defending us and ours. To whom her son majestic thus replied.

My mother, whom I reverence! cheering wine Bring none to me, lest I forget my might. I fear, beside, with unwash'd hands to pour Libation forth of sable wine to Jove, And dare on none account, thus blood-defiled, Approach the tempest-stirring God in prayer. Thou, therefore, gathering all our matrons, seek The fane of Pallas, huntress of the spoil, Bearing sweet incense; but from the attire Treasured within thy chamber, first select The amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought, And which thou prizest most—then spread the gift On Athenæan Pallas' lap divine. Twelve heifers also of the year, untouch'd With puncture of the goad, promise to slay In sacrifice, if she will pity Troy, Our wives and little ones, and will avert The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers, That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host. Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane Of the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while, Seek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear, Shall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn And swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse To Troy, to Priam, and to all his house; Methinks, to see him plunged into the shades For ever, were a cure for all my woes.

He ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged Her maidens; they, incontinent, throughout All Troy convened the matrons, as she bade. Meantime into her wardrobe incense-fumed, Herself descended; there her treasures lay, Works of Sidonian women, whom her son The godlike Paris, when he cross'd the seas With Jove-begotten Helen, brought to Troy. The most magnificent, and varied most With colors radiant, from the rest she chose For Pallas; vivid as a star it shone, And lowest lay of all. Then forth she went, The Trojan matrons all following her steps.

But when the long procession reach'd the fane Of Pallas in the heights of Troy, to them The fair Theano ope'd the portals wide, Daughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor's spouse, And by appointment public, at that time, Priestess of Pallas. All with lifted hands In presence of Minerva wept aloud. Beauteous Theano on the Goddess' lap Then spread the robe, and to the daughter fair Of Jove omnipotent her suit address'd.

Goddess of Goddesses, our city's shield, Adored Minerva, hear! oh! break the lance Of Diomede, and give himself to fall Prone in the dust before the Scæan gate. So will we offer to thee at thy shrine, This day twelve heifers of the year, untouch'd By yoke or goad, if thou wilt pity show To Troy, and save our children and our wives.

Such prayer the priestess offer'd, and such prayer All present; whom Minerva heard averse. But Hector to the palace sped meantime Of Alexander, which himself had built, Aided by every architect of name Illustrious then in Troy. Chamber it had, Wide hall, proud dome, and on the heights of Troy Near-neighboring Hector's house and Priam's stood. There enter'd Hector, Jove-beloved, a spear Its length eleven cubits in his hand, Its glittering head bound with a ring of gold. He found within his chamber whom he sought, Polishing with exactest care his arms Resplendent, shield and hauberk fingering o'er With curious touch, and tampering with his bow. Helen of Argos with her female train Sat occupied, the while, to each in turn Some splendid task assigning. Hector fix'd His eyes on Paris, and him stern rebuked.

Thy sullen humors, Paris, are ill-timed. The people perish at our lofty walls; The flames of war have compass'd Troy around And thou hast kindled them; who yet thyself That slackness show'st which in another seen Thou would'st resent to death. Haste, seek the field This moment, lest, the next, all Ilium blaze.

To whom thus Paris, graceful as a God. Since, Hector, thou hast charged me with a fault, And not unjustly, I will answer make, And give thou special heed. That here I sit, The cause is sorrow, which I wish'd to soothe In secret, not displeasure or revenge. I tell thee also, that even now my wife Was urgent with me in most soothing terms That I would forth to battle; and myself, Aware that victory oft changes sides, That course prefer. Wait, therefore, thou awhile, 'Till I shall dress me for the fight, or go Thou first, and I will overtake thee soon.

He ceased, to whom brave Hector answer none Return'd, when Helen him with lenient speech Accosted mild. My brother! who in me Hast found a sister worthy of thy hate, Authoress of all calamity to Troy, Oh that the winds, the day when I was born, Had swept me out of sight, whirl'd me aloft To some inhospitable mountain-top, Or plunged me in the deep; there I had sunk O'erwhelm'd, and all these ills had never been. But since the Gods would bring these ills to pass, I should, at least, some worthier mate have chosen, One not insensible to public shame. But this, oh this, nor hath nor will acquire Hereafter, aught which like discretion shows Or reason, and shall find his just reward. But enter; take this seat; for who as thou Labors, or who hath cause like thee to rue The crime, my brother, for which Heaven hath doom'd Both Paris and my most detested self To be the burthens of an endless song?

To whom the warlike Hector huge replied. Me bid not, Helen, to a seat, howe'er Thou wish my stay, for thou must not prevail. The Trojans miss me, and myself no less Am anxious to return. But urge in haste This loiterer forth; yea, let him urge himself To overtake me ere I quit the town. For I must home in haste, that I may see My loved Andromache, my infant boy, And my domestics, ignorant if e'er I shall behold them more, or if my fate Ordain me now to fall by Grecian hands.

So spake the dauntless hero, and withdrew. But reaching soon his own well-built abode He found not fair Andromache; she stood Lamenting Hector, with the nurse who bore Her infant, on a turret's top sublime. He then, not finding his chaste spouse within, Thus from the portal, of her train inquired.

Tell me, ye maidens, whither went from home Andromache the fair? Went she to see Her female kindred of my father's house, Or to Minerva's temple, where convened The bright-hair'd matrons of the city seek To soothe the awful Goddess? Tell me true.

To whom his household's governess discreet. Since, Hector, truth is thy demand, receive True answer. Neither went she forth to see Her female kindred of thy father's house, Nor to Minerva's temple, where convened The bright-haired matrons of the city seek To soothe the awful Goddess; but she went Hence to the tower of Troy: for she had heard That the Achaians had prevail'd, and driven The Trojans to the walls; she, therefore, wild With grief, flew thither, and the nurse her steps Attended, with thy infant in her arms.

So spake the prudent governess; whose words When Hector heard, issuing from his door He backward trod with hasty steps the streets Of lofty Troy, and having traversed all The spacious city, when he now approach'd The Scæan gate, whence he must seek the field, There, hasting home again his noble wife Met him, Andromache the rich-endow'd Fair daughter of Eëtion famed in arms. Eëtion, who in Hypoplacian Thebes Umbrageous dwelt, Cilicia's mighty lord— His daughter valiant Hector had espoused. There she encounter'd him, and with herself The nurse came also, bearing in her arms Hectorides, his infant darling boy, Beautiful as a star. Him Hector called Scamandrios, but Astyanax all else In Ilium named him, for that Hector's arm Alone was the defence and strength of Troy. The father, silent, eyed his babe, and smiled. Andromache, meantime, before him stood, With streaming cheeks, hung on his hand, and said.

Thy own great courage will cut short thy days, My noble Hector! neither pitiest thou Thy helpless infant, or my hapless self, Whose widowhood is near; for thou wilt fall Ere long, assail'd by the whole host of Greece. Then let me to the tomb, my best retreat When thou art slain. For comfort none or joy Can I expect, thy day of life extinct, But thenceforth, sorrow. Father I have none; No mother. When Cilicia's city, Thebes The populous, was by Achilles sack'd. He slew my father; yet his gorgeous arms Stripp'd not through reverence of him, but consumed, Arm'd as it was, his body on the pile, And heap'd his tomb, which the Oreades, Jove's daughters, had with elms inclosed around. My seven brothers, glory of our house, All in one day descended to the shades; For brave Achilles, while they fed their herds And snowy flocks together, slew them all. My mother, Queen of the well-wooded realm Of Hypoplacian Thebes, her hither brought Among his other spoils, he loosed again At an inestimable ransom-price, But by Diana pierced, she died at home. Yet Hector—oh my husband! I in thee Find parents, brothers, all that I have lost. Come! have compassion on us. Go not hence, But guard this turret, lest of me thou make A widow, and an orphan of thy boy. The city walls are easiest of ascent At yonder fig-tree; station there thy powers; For whether by a prophet warn'd, or taught By search and observation, in that part Each Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete, The sons of Atreus, and the valiant son Of Tydeus, have now thrice assail'd the town.

To whom the leader of the host of Troy.

These cares, Andromache, which thee engage, All touch me also; but I dread to incur The scorn of male and female tongues in Troy, If, dastard-like, I should decline the fight. Nor feel I such a wish. No. I have learn'd To be courageous ever, in the van Among the flower of Ilium to assert My glorious father's honor, and my own. For that the day shall come when sacred Troy, When Priam, and the people of the old Spear-practised King shall perish, well I know. But for no Trojan sorrows yet to come So much I mourn, not e'en for Hecuba, Nor yet for Priam, nor for all the brave Of my own brothers who shall kiss the dust, As for thyself, when some Achaian Chief Shall have convey'd thee weeping hence, thy sun Of peace and liberty for ever set. Then shalt thou toil in Argos at the loom For a task-mistress, and constrain'd shalt draw From Hypereïa's fount, or from the fount Messeïs, water at her proud command. Some Grecian then, seeing thy tears, shall say— "This was the wife of Hector, who excell'd All Troy in fight when Ilium was besieged." Such he shall speak thee, and thy heart, the while, Shall bleed afresh through want of such a friend To stand between captivity and thee. But may I rest beneath my hill of earth Or ere that day arrive! I would not live To hear thy cries, and see thee torn away.

So saying, illustrious Hector stretch'd his arms Forth to his son, but with a scream, the child Fell back into the bosom of his nurse, His father's aspect dreading, whose bright arms He had attentive mark'd and shaggy crest Playing tremendous o'er his helmet's height. His father and his gentle mother laugh'd, And noble Hector lifting from his head His dazzling helmet, placed it on the ground, Then kiss'd his boy and dandled him, and thus In earnest prayer the heavenly powers implored.

Hear all ye Gods! as ye have given to me, So also on my son excelling might Bestow, with chief authority in Troy. And be his record this, in time to come, When he returns from battle. Lo! how far The son excels the sire! May every foe Fall under him, and he come laden home With spoils blood-stain'd to his dear mother's joy.

He said, and gave his infant to the arms Of his Andromache, who him received Into her fragrant bosom, bitter tears With sweet smiles mingling; he with pity moved That sight observed, soft touch'd her cheek, and said,

Mourn not, my loved Andromache, for me Too much; no man shall send me to the shades Of Tartarus, ere mine allotted hour, Nor lives he who can overpass the date By heaven assign'd him, be he base or brave. Go then, and occupy content at home The woman's province; ply the distaff, spin And weave, and task thy maidens. War belongs To man; to all men; and of all who first Drew vital breath in Ilium, most to me.

He ceased, and from the ground his helmet raised Hair-crested; his Andromache, at once Obedient, to her home repair'd, but oft Turn'd as she went, and, turning, wept afresh. No sooner at the palace she arrived Of havoc-spreading Hector, than among Her numerous maidens found within, she raised A general lamentation; with one voice, In his own house, his whole domestic train Mourn'd Hector, yet alive; for none the hope Conceived of his escape from Grecian hands, Or to behold their living master more.

Nor Paris in his stately mansion long Delay'd, but, arm'd resplendent, traversed swift The city, all alacrity and joy. As some stall'd horse high-fed, his stable-cord Snapt short, beats under foot the sounding plain, Accustomed in smooth-sliding streams to lave Exulting; high he bears his head, his mane Undulates o'er his shoulders, pleased he eyes His glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees Shoots to the meadow where his fellows graze; So Paris, son of Priam, from the heights Of Pergamus into the streets of Troy, All dazzling as the sun, descended, flush'd With martial pride, and bounding in his course. At once he came where noble Hector stood Now turning, after conference with his spouse, When godlike Alexander thus began.

My hero brother, thou hast surely found My long delay most irksome. More dispatch Had pleased thee more, for such was thy command.

To whom the warlike Hector thus replied. No man, judicious, and in feat of arms Intelligent, would pour contempt on thee (For thou art valiant) wert thou not remiss And wilful negligent; and when I hear The very men who labor in thy cause Reviling thee, I make thy shame my own. But let us on. All such complaints shall cease Hereafter, and thy faults be touch'd no more, Let Jove but once afford us riddance clear Of these Achaians, and to quaff the cup Of liberty, before the living Gods.

It may be observed, that Hector begins to resume his hope of success, and his warlike spirit is roused again, as he approaches the field of action. The depressing effect of his sad interview is wearing away from his mind, and he is already prepared for the battle with Ajax, which awaits him.

The student who has once read this book, will read it again and again. It contains much that is addressed to the deepest feelings of our common nature, and, despite of the long interval of time which lies between our age and the Homeric—despite the manifold changes of customs, habits, pursuits, and the advances that have been made in civilization and art—despite of all these, the universal spirit of humanity will recognize in these scenes much of that true poetry which delights alike all ages, all nations, all men.—.


 * 1)  The Simoïs and Xanthus were two rivers of the Troad, which form a junction before they reached the Hellespont. The Simoïs rose in Mt. Ida, and the Xanthus had its origin near Troy.—.
 * 2)  Ajax commences his exploits immediately on the departure of the gods from the battle. It is observed of this hero, that he is never assisted by the deities.
 * 3)  Axylus was distinguished for his hospitality. This trait was characteristic of the Oriental nations, and is often alluded to by ancient writers. The rite of hospitality often united families belonging to different and hostile nations, and was even transmitted from father to son. This description is a fine tribute to the generosity of Axylus.—
 * 4)  [Euryalus.]
 * 5)  Agamemnon's taking the life of the Trojan whom Menelaus had pardoned, was according to the custom of the times. The historical books of the Old Testament abound in instances of the like cruelty to conquered enemies.
 * 6)  This important maxim of war is very naturally introduced, upon Menelaus being ready to spare an enemy for the sake of a ransom. According to Dacier, it was for such lessons as these that Alexander so much esteemed Homer and studied his poem.
 * 7)  The custom of making donations to the gods is found among the ancients, from the earliest times of which we have any record down to the introduction of Christianity; and even after that period it was observed by the Christians during the middle ages. Its origin seems to have been the same as that of sacrifices: viz. the belief that the gods were susceptible of influence in their conduct towards men. These gifts were sometimes very costly, but often nothing more than locks of hair cut from the head of the votary.
 * 8)  Diomede had knowingly wounded and insulted the deities; he therefore met Glaucus with a superstitious fear that he might be some deity in human shape. This feeling brought to his mind the story of Lycurgus.
 * 9)  It is said that Lycurgus caused most of the vines of his country to be rooted up, so that his subjects were obliged to mix their wine with water, as it became less plentiful. Hence the fable that Thetis received Bacchus into her bosom.
 * 10)  This style of language was according to the manners of the times. Thus Goliath to David, "Approach, and I will give thy flesh to the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field." The Orientals still speak in the same manner.
 * 11)  Though this comparison may be justly admired for its beauty in the obvious application to the mortality and succession of human life, it seems designed by the poet, in this place, as a proper emblem of the transitory state of families which, by their misfortune or folly, have fallen and decayed, and again appear, in a happier season, to revive and flourish in the fame and virtues of their posterity. In this sense it is a direct answer to the question of Diomede, as well as a proper preface to what Glaticus relates of his own family, which, having become extinct in Corinth, recovers new life in Lycia.
 * 12)  The same as Corinth.
 * 13)  Some suppose that alphabetical writing was unknown in the Homeric age, and consequently that these signs must have been hieroglyphical marks. The question is a difficult one, and the most distinguished scholars are divided in opinion. We can hardly imagine that a poem of the length and general excellence of the Iliad, could be composed without the aid of writing; and yet, we are told, there are well-authenticated examples of such works being preserved and handed down by traditional memory. However this may be, we know that the Oriental nations were in possession of the art of alphabetical writing it a very early period, and before the Trojan war. It cannot, then, seem very improbable, that the authors of the Iliad should also have been acquainted with it.—
 * 14)  The Solymi were an ancient nation inhabiting the mountainous parts of Asia Minor, between Lycia and Pisidia. Pliny mentions them as having become extinct in his time.
 * 15)  It was the custom in ancient times, upon the performance of any signal service by kings or great men, for the public to grant them a tract of land as a reward. When Sarpedon, in the 12th Book, exhorts Glaucus to behave valiantly, he reminds him of these possessions granted by his countrymen.
 * 16)  The laws of hospitality were considered so sacred, that a friendship contracted under their observance was preferred to the ties of consanguinity and alliance, and regarded as obligatory even to the third and fourth generation. Diomede and Glaucus here became friends, on the ground of their grandfathers having been mutual guests. The presents made on these occasions were preserved by families, as it was considered obligatory to transmit them as memorials to their children.
 * 17)  [Ξεινοι πατρωιοι.]
 * 18)  The Scæan gate opened to the field of battle, and was the one through which the Trojans made their excursions. Close to this stood the beech tree sacred to Jupiter, and often mentioned in connection with it.
 * 19)  There is a mournfulness in the interview between the hero and his mother which is deeply interesting. Her urging him to take wine and his refusal were natural and simple incidents, which heighten the effect of the scene.—
 * 20)  The custom that prohibits persons polluted with blood from performing any offices of divine worship before purification, is so ancient and universal, that it may be considered a precept of natural religion, tending to inspire a horror of bloodshed. In Euripides, Iphigenia argues the impossibility of human sacrifices being acceptable to the gods, since they do not permit any one defiled with blood, or even polluted with the touch of a dead body, to come near their altars.
 * 21)  Paris surprised the King of Phœnecia by night, and carried off many of his treasures and captives, among whom probably were these Sidonian women. Tyre and Sidon were famous for works in gold, embroidery, etc., and for whatever pertained to magnificence and luxury.
 * 22)  This gesture is the only one described by Homer as being used by the ancients in their invocations of the gods.
 * 23)  [δια θεαων]
 * 24)  The employment in which Hector finds Paris engaged, is extremely characteristic.—.
 * 25)  This address of Helen is in fine keeping with her character.—.
 * 26)  [The bulk of his heroes is a circumstance of which Homer frequently reminds us by the use of the word μεγας—and which ought, therefore, by no means to be suppressed.—]
 * 27)  Love of his country is a prominent characteristic of Hector, and is here beautifully displayed in his discharging the duties that the public welfare required, before seeking his wife and child. Then finding that she had gone to the tower, he retraces his steps to "the Scæan gate, whence he must seek the field." Here his wife, on her return home, accidentally meets him.
 * 28)  [The name signifies, the Chief of the city.—]
 * 29)  It was the custom to plant about tombs only such trees as elms, alders, etc., that bear no fruit, as being most appropriate to the dead.
 * 30)  In this recapitulation, Homer acquaints us with some of the great achievements of Achilles, which preceded the opening of the poem—a happy manner of exalting his hero, and exciting our expectation as to what he is yet to accomplish. His greatest enemies never upbraid him, but confess his glory. When Apollo encourages the Trojans to fight, it is by telling them Achilles fights no more. When Juno animates the Greeks, she reminds them how their enemies fear Achilles; and when Andromache trembles for Hector, it is with the remembrance of his resistless force.
 * 31)  Drawing water was considered the most servile employment.
 * 32)  [The Scholiast in Villoisson calls it φυσικον τινα και μετριον γελωτα a natural and moderate laughter.—]
 * 33)  According to the ancient belief, the fatal period of life is appointed to all men at the time of their birth, which no precaution can avoid and no danger hasten.
 * 34)  This scene, for true and unaffected pathos, delicate touches of nature, and a profound knowledge of the human heart, has rarely been equalled, and never surpassed, among all the efforts of genius during the three thousand years that have gone by since it was conceived and composed.—.