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The Iliads of Homer. HomerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Iliads of Homer - Homer


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King Menelaus doth accept his brave,

       Conditioning that he again should have

       Fair Helena, with all she brought to Troy,

       If he subdu'd; else Paris should enjoy

       Her, and her wealth, in peace. Conquest doth grant

       Her dear wreath to the Grecian combatant;

       But Venus to her champion's life doth yield

       Safe rescue, and conveys him from the field

       Into his chamber, and for Helen sends,

       Whom much her lover's foul disgrace offends;

       Yet Venus for him still makes good her charms,

       And ends the second combat in his arms.

      ANOTHER ARGUMENT

      Gamma the single fight doth sing

       'Twixt Paris and the Spartan king.

      When ev'ry least commander's will best soldiers had obey'd,

       And both the hosts were rang'd for fight, the Trojans would have

       fray'd

       The Greeks with noises, crying out, in coming rudely on;

       At all parts like the cranes that fill, with harsh confusion,

       Of brutish clangés all the air, and in ridiculous war

       (Eschewing the unsuffer'd storms, shot from the winter's star)

       Visit the ocean, and confer the Pygmei soldiers' death.

       The Greeks charg'd silent, and like men, bestow'd their thrifty

       breath

       In strength of far-resounding blows, still entertaining care

       Of either's rescue, when their strength did their engagements dare.

       And as, upon a hill's steep tops, the south wind pours a cloud,

       To shepherds thankless, but by thieves that love the night,

       allow'd,

       A darkness letting down, that blinds a stone's cast off men's eyes;

       Such darkness from the Greeks' swift feet (made all of dust) did

       rise.

       But, ere stern conflict mix'd both strengths, fair Paris stept

       before

       The Trojan host; athwart his back a panther's hide he wore,

       A crookéd bow, and sword, and shook two brazen-headed darts;

       With which well-arm'd, his tongue provok'd the best of Grecian

       hearts

       To stand with him in single fight. Whom when the man, wrong'd most

       Of all the Greeks, so gloriously saw stalk before the host;

       As when a lion is rejoic'd, (with hunger half forlorn,)

       That finds some sweet prey, as a hart, whose grace lies in his

       horn,

       Or sylvan goat, which he devours, though never so pursu'd

       With dogs and men; so Sparta's king exulted, when he viewed

       The fair-fac'd Paris so expos'd to his so thirsted wreak,

       Whereof his good cause made him sure. The Grecian front did break,

       And forth he rush'd, at all parts arm'd, leapt from his chariot,

       And royally prepar'd for charge. Which seen, cold terror shot

       The heart of Paris, who retir'd as headlong from the king

       As in him he had shunn'd his death. And as a hilly spring

       Presents a serpent to a man, full underneath his feet,

       Her blue neck, swoln with poison, rais'd, and her sting out, to

       greet

       His heedless entry, suddenly his walk he altereth,

       Starts back amaz'd, is shook with fear, and looks as pale as death;

       So Menelaus Paris scar'd; so that divine-fac'd foe

       Shrunk in his beauties. Which beheld by Hector, he let go

       This bitter check at him; "Accurs'd, made but in beauty's scorn,

       Impostor, woman's man! O heav'n, that thou hadst ne'er been born,

       Or, being so manless, never liv'd to bear man's noblest state,

       The nuptial honour! Which I wish, because it were a fate

       Much better for thee than this shame. This spectacle doth make

       A man a monster. Hark! how loud the Greeks laugh, who did take

       Thy fair form for a continent of parts as fair. A rape

       Thou mad'st of nature, like their queen. No soul, an empty shape,

       Takes up thy being; yet how spite to ev'ry shade of good

       Fills it with ill! for as thou art, thou couldst collect a brood

       Of others like thee, and far hence fetch ill enough to us,

       Ev'n to thy father; all these friends make those foes mock them

       thus

       In thee, for whose ridiculous sake so seriously they lay

       All Greece, and fate, upon their necks. O wretch! Not dare to stay

       Weak Menelaus? But 'twas well; for in him thou hadst tried

       What strength lost beauty can infuse, and with the more grief died

       To feel thou robb'dst a worthier man, to wrong a soldier's right.

       Your harp's sweet touch, curl'd locks, fine shape, and gifts so

       exquisite,

       Giv'n thee by Venus, would have done your fine dames little good,

       When blood and dust had ruffled them, and had as little stood

       Thyself in stead; but what thy care of all these in thee flies

       We should inflict on thee ourselves. Infectious cowardice

       In thee hath terrified our host; for which thou well deserv'st

       A coat of tombstone, not of steel in which, for form, thou

       serv'st."

       To this thus Paris spake, (for form, that might inhabit heav'n)

       "Hector, because thy sharp reproof is out of justice giv'n,

       I take it well; but though thy heart, inur'd to these affrights,

       Cuts through them as an axe through oak, that more us'd more

       excites

       The workman's faculty, whose art can make the edge go far,

       Yet I, less practis'd than thyself in these extremes of war,

       May well be pardon'd, though less bold; in these your worth

       exceeds,

       In others mine. Nor is my mind of less force to the deeds

       Requir'd in war, because my form more flows in gifts of peace.

       Reproach not, therefore, the kind gifts of golden Cyprides.

       All heav'n's gifts have their worthy price; as little to be scorn'd

       As to be won with strength, wealth, state; with which to be

       adorn'd,

       Some men would change state, wealth, or strength. But, if your

       martial heart

       Wish me to make my challenge good, and hold it such a part

       Of shame to give it over thus, cause all the rest to rest,

       And, 'twixt both hosts, let Sparta's king and


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