---

Скачать книгу

---

about th' Ajaces stirr'd,

       Impatient for the war, the stalwart youths,

       Black masses, bristling close with spear and shield.

      Well pleas'd, the monarch Agamemnon saw,

       And thus address'd them: "Valiant chiefs, to you,

       The leaders of the brass-clad Greeks, I give

       ('Twere needless and unseemly) no commands;

       For well ye understand your troops to rouse

       To deeds of dauntless courage; would to Jove,

       To Pallas and Apollo, that such mind

       As is in you, in all the camp were found;

       Then soon should Priam's lofty city fall,

       Tak'n and destroy'd by our victorious hands."

      Thus saying, them he left, and onward mov'd.

       Nestor, the smooth-tongu'd Pylian chief, he found

       The troops arraying, and to valiant deeds

       His friends encouraging; stout Pelagon,

       Alastor, Chromius, Haemon, warlike Prince,

       And Bias bold, his people's sure defence.

       In the front rank, with chariot and with horse,

       He plac'd the car-borne warriors; in the rear,

       Num'rous and brave, a cloud of infantry,

       Compactly mass'd, to stem the tide of war,

       Between the two he plac'd th' inferior troops,

       That e'en against their will they needs must fight.

       The horsemen first he charg'd, and bade them keep

       Their horses well in hand, nor wildly rush

       Amid the tumult: "See," he said, "that none,

       In skill or valour over-confident,

       Advance before his comrades, nor alone

       Retire; for so your lines were easier forc'd;

       But ranging each beside a hostile car,

       Thrust with your spears; for such the better way;

       By men so disciplin'd, in elder days

       Were lofty walls and fenced towns destroy'd."

      Thus he, experienc'd in the wars of old;

       Well pleas'd, the monarch Agamemnon saw,

       And thus address'd him; "Would to Heav'n, old man,

       That, as thy spirit, such too were thy strength

       And vigour of thy limbs; but now old age,

       The common lot of mortals, weighs thee down;

       Would I could see some others in thy place,

       And thou couldst still be numbered with the young!"

      To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:

       "Atrides, I too fain would see restor'd

       The strength I once possess'd, what time I slew

       The godlike Ereuthalion; but the Gods

       On man bestow not all their gifts at once;

       I then was young, and now am bow'd with age,

       Yet with the chariots can I still go forth,

       And aid with sage advice: for such the right

       And privilege of age; to hurl the spear

       Belongs to younger men, who after me

       Were born, who boast their vigour unimpair'd."

      He said; and Agamemnon went his way,

       Rejoicing: to Menestheus next he came,

       The son of Peteus, charioteer renown'd;

       Him found he, circled by th' Athenian bands,

       The raisers of the war-cry; close beside

       The sage Ulysses stood, around him rang'd,

       Not unrenown'd, the Cephalonian troops:

       The sound of battle had not reach'd their ears;

       For but of late the Greek and Trojan hosts

       Were set in motion; they expecting stood,

       Till other Grecian columns should advance,

       Assail the Trojans, and renew the war.

      Atrides saw, and thus, reproachful, spoke:

       "O son of Peteus, Heav'n-descended King!

       And thou too, master of all tricky arts,

       Why, ling'ring, stand ye thus aloof, and wait

       For others coming? ye should be the first

       The hot assault of battle to confront;

       For ye are first my summons to receive,

       Whene'er the honour'd banquet we prepare:

       And well ye like to eat the sav'ry meat,

       And, at your will, the luscious wine-cups drain:

       Now stand ye here, and unconcern'd would see

       Ten columns pass before you to the fight."

      To whom, with stern regard, Ulysses thus:

       "What words have pass'd the barrier of thy lips,

       Atrides? how with want of warlike zeal

       Canst thou reproach us? when the Greeks again

       The furious war shall waken, thou shalt see

       (If that thou care to see) amid the ranks

       Of Troy, the father of Telemachus

       In the fore-front: thy words are empty wind."

      Atrides saw him chafed, and smiling, thus

       Recalled his former words: "Ulysses sage,

       Laertes' high-born son, not over-much

       I give thee blame, or orders; for I know

       Thy mind to gentle counsels is inclin'd;

       Thy thoughts are one with mine; then come, henceforth

       Shall all be well; and if a hasty word

       Have pass'd, may Heaven regard it as unsaid."

      Thus saying, them he left, and onward mov'd.

       The son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed,

       Standing he found amid his warlike steeds

       And well-built cars; beside him, Sthenelus,

       The son of Capaneus; Atrides saw,

       And thus address'd him with reproachful words:

       "Alas! thou son of Tydeus, wise and bold,

       Why crouch with fear? why thus appall'd survey

       The pass of war? not so had Tydeus crouch'd;

       His hand was ever ready from their foes

       To guard his comrades; so, at least, they say

       Whose eyes beheld his labours; I myself

       Nor met him e'er, nor saw; but, by report,

       Thy father was the foremost man of men.

       A stranger to Mycenae once he came,

       With godlike Polynices; not at war,

       But seeking succour for the troops that lay

       Encamp'd before the sacred walls of Thebes;

       For reinforcements earnestly they sued;

       The boon they ask'd was granted them, but Jove

       With unpropitious omens turn'd them back.

       Advancing on their journey, when they reach'd

      

---

Скачать книгу