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The Iliad. HomerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Iliad - Homer


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and they his word obey'd.

       Priam, ascending, gather'd up the reins,

       And with Antenor by his side, the twain

       Drove through the Scaean gate their flying steeds.

      But when between th' opposing ranks they came,

       Alighting from the car, they mov'd on foot

       Between the Trojan and the Grecian hosts.

       Uprose then Agamemnon, King of men,

       Uprose the sage Ulysses; to the front

       The heralds brought the off'rings to the Gods,

       And in the flagon mix'd the wine, and pour'd

       The hallowing water on the monarchs' hands.

       His dagger then the son of Atreus drew,

       Suspended, as was wont, beside the hilt

       Of his great sword; and from the victim's head

       He cut the sacred lock, which to the chiefs

       Of Troy and Greece the heralds portion'd out.

       Then with uplifted hands he pray'd aloud:

       "O Father Jove! who rul'st from Ida's height,

       Most great! most glorious! and thou Sun, who see'st

       And hearest all things! Rivers! and thou Earth!

       And ye, who after death beneath the earth

       Your vengeance wreak on souls of men forsworn,

       Be witness ye, and this our cov'nant guard.

       If Menelaus fall by Paris' hand,

       Let him retain both Helen and the spoil,

       While in our ships we take our homeward way;

       If Paris be by Menelaus slain,

       Troy shall surrender Helen and the spoil,

       With compensation due to Greece, that so

       A record may to future days remain.

       But, Paris slain, if Priam and his sons

       The promis'd compensation shall withhold,

       Then here, my rights in battle to assert,

       Will I remain, till I the end achieve."

      Thus as he spoke, across the victims' throats

       He drew the pitiless blade, and on the ground

       He laid them gasping, as the stream of life

       Pour'd forth, their vigour by the blade subdued.

       Then, from the flagon drawn, from out the cups

       The wine they pour'd; and to th' eternal Gods

       They pray'd; and thus from Trojans and from Greeks

       Arose the joint petition; "Grant, O Jove!

       Most great! most glorious! grant, ye heav'nly pow'rs,

       That whosoe'er this solemn truce shall break,

       Ev'n as this wine we pour, their hearts' best blood,

       Theirs and their children's, on the earth be pour'd,

       And strangers in subjection take their wives!"

      Thus they; but Jove, unyielding, heard their pray'r.

       The rites perform'd, then aged Priam spoke:

       "Hear me, ye Trojans, and ye well-greav'd Greeks!

       To Ilium's breezy heights I now withdraw,

       For that mine eyes will not endure the sight

       Of warlike Menelaus and my son

       Engag'd in deadly combat; of the two

       Which may be doom'd to death, is only known

       To Jove, and to th' immortal pow'rs of Heav'n."

      Thus spoke the godlike King; and on the car

       He plac'd the consecrated lambs; himself

       Ascending then, he gather'd up the reins,

       And with Antenor by his side, the twain

       To Ilium's walls retrac'd their homeward way.

      Then Hector, son of Priam, measur'd out,

       With sage Ulysses join'd, th' allotted space;

       Next, in the brass-bound helmet cast the lots,

       Which of the two the first should throw the spear.

       The crowd, with hands uplifted, to the Gods,

       Trojans and Greeks alike, address'd their pray'r:

       "O Father Jove! who rul'st from Ida's height,

       Most great! most glorious! grant that whosoe'er

       On both our armies hath this turmoil brought

       May undergo the doom of death, and we,

       The rest, firm peace and lasting friendship swear."

      Thus they; great Hector of the glancing helm,

       With eyes averted, shook the casque; and forth

       Was cast the lot of Paris; on the ground

       The rest lay down by ranks, where near to each

       Were rang'd his active steeds, and glitt'ring arms.

       Then o'er his shoulders fair-hair'd Helen's Lord,

       The godlike Paris, donn'd his armour bright:

       First on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix'd,

       Fasten'd with silver clasps; his ample chest

       A breastplate guarded, by Lycaon lent,

       His brother, but which fitted well his form.

       Around his shoulders slung, his sword he bore,

       Brass-bladed, silver-studded; then his shield

       Weighty and strong; and on his firm-set head

       A helm he wore, well wrought, with horsehair plume

       That nodded, fearful, o'er his brow; his hand

       Grasp'd the firm spear, familiar to his hold.

       Prepar'd alike the adverse warrior stood.

      They, from the crowd apart their armour donn'd,

       Came forth: and each, with eyes of mutual hate,

       Regarded each: admiring wonder seiz'd

       The Trojan warriors and the well-greav'd Greeks,

       As in the centre of the measur'd ground

       They stood oppos'd, and pois'd their quiv'ring spears.

       First Paris threw his weighty spear, and struck

       Fair in the midst Atrides' buckler round,

       But broke not through; upon the stubborn targe

       Was bent the lance's point; then thus to Jove,

       His weapon hurling, Menelaus pray'd:

       "Great King, on him who wrought me causeless wrong,

       On Paris, grant that retribution due

       My arm may bring; that men in days to come

       May fear their host to injure, and repay

       With treach'rous wile his hospitable cares."

      He said, and poising, hurl'd his weighty spear:

       Full in the midst it struck the buckler round;

       Right through the buckler pass'd the sturdy spear,

       And through the gorgeous breastplate, and within

       Cut through the linen vest; but Paris, back

       Inclining, stoop'd, and shunn'd the doom of death.

      Atrides then his silver-studded


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