And close around them baying, held aloof.[[53]]
[53]. Iliad, xviii. 573-86 (Lord Derby’s translation). For illustrations drawn from the dog’s instinctive fear of the lion, see also v. 476; xvii. 65-67.
It can scarcely be maintained that a lover of the species would have selected the incident for typical representation in his great world-picture.
The direct Iliadic references to dogs, on the other hand, show clearly that they were domesticated in Troy, that they lived in the tents of the Achæan chiefs, (probably with a guarding office), and that they roamed the camp, devouring offal, and hideously contending with vultures and other feathered rivals for the human remains left unburied on the field of battle. The circumstance that in this revolting capacity they were predominantly present to the mind of the poet unveils the secret of his profound aversion. Not as the humble and faithful minister of man, hearkening to his voice, hanging on his looks, holding his life at a pin’s fee in comparison with his service, the author of the Iliad conceived of the dog; but as a filthy and bloodthirsty beast of prey, the foul outrager of the sanctities of death, the ravenous and undiscriminating violator of the precious casket of the human soul. In the tragic appeal of Priam to Hector as he awaits the onslaught of Achilles beneath the walls of Troy, this aversion touches its darkest depth, and obtains an almost savage completeness of expression. Anticipating the imminent catastrophe of his house and kingdom, the despairing old man thus portrays his own approaching doom—
Me last, when by some foeman’s stroke or thrust
The spirit from these feeble limbs is driv’n,
Insatiate dogs shall tear at my own door;
The dogs my care has rear’d, my table fed.
The guardians of my gates shall lap my blood,
And crave and madden, crouching in the porch.[[54]]