BOOK XIV.
Nor was that cry by Nestor unperceived
Though drinking, who in words wing’d with surprise
The son of Æsculapius thus address’d.
Divine Machaon! think what this may bode.
The cry of our young warriors at the ships5
Grows louder; sitting here, the sable wine
Quaff thou, while bright-hair’d Hecamede warms
A bath, to cleanse thy crimson stains away.
I from yon eminence will learn the cause.
So saying, he took a shield radiant with brass10
There lying in the tent, the shield well-forged
Of valiant Thrasymedes, his own son
(For he had borne to fight his father’s shield)
And arming next his hand with a keen lance
Stood forth before the tent. Thence soon he saw15
Foul deeds and strange, the Grecian host confused,
Their broken ranks flying before the host
Of Ilium, and the rampart overthrown.
As when the wide sea, darken’d over all
Its silent flood, forebodes shrill winds to blow,20
The doubtful waves roll yet to neither side,
Till swept at length by a decisive gale;[1]
So stood the senior, with distressful doubts
Conflicting anxious, whether first to seek
The Grecian host, or Agamemnon’s self25
The sovereign, and at length that course preferr’d.
Meantime with mutual carnage they the field
Spread far and wide, and by spears double-edged
Smitten, and by the sword their corselets rang.
The royal Chiefs ascending from the fleet,30
Ulysses, Diomede, and Atreus’ son
Imperial Agamemnon, who had each
Bled in the battle, met him on his way.
For from the war remote they had updrawn
Their galleys on the shore of the gray Deep,35
The foremost to the plain, and at the sterns
Of that exterior line had built the wall.
For, spacious though it were, the shore alone
That fleet sufficed not, incommoding much
The people; wherefore they had ranged the ships40
Line above line gradual, and the bay
Between both promontories, all was fill’d.
They, therefore, curious to survey the fight,
Came forth together, leaning on the spear,
When Nestor met them; heavy were their hearts,45
And at the sight of him still more alarm’d,
Whom royal Agamemnon thus bespake.
Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks!
What moved thee to forsake yon bloody field,
And urged thee hither? Cause I see of fear,50
Lest furious Hector even now his threat
Among the Trojans publish’d, verify,
That he would never enter Ilium more
Till he had burn’d our fleet, and slain ourselves.
So threaten’d Hector, and shall now perform.55
Alas! alas! the Achaians brazen-greaved
All, like Achilles, have deserted me
Resentful, and decline their fleet’s defence.
To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied.
Those threats are verified; nor Jove himself60
The Thunderer can disappoint them now;
For our chief strength in which we trusted most
That it should guard impregnably secure
Our navy and ourselves, the wall hath fallen.
Hence all this conflict by our host sustain’d65
Among the ships; nor could thy keenest sight
Inform thee where in the Achaian camp
Confusion most prevails, such deaths are dealt
Promiscuous, and the cry ascends to heaven.
But come—consult we on the sum of all,70
If counsel yet may profit. As for you,
Ye shall have exhortation none from me
To seek the fight; the wounded have excuse.
Whom Agamemnon answer’d, King of men.
Ah Nestor! if beneath our very sterns75
The battle rage, if neither trench nor wall
Constructed with such labor, and supposed
Of strength to guard impregnably secure
Our navy and ourselves, avail us aught,
It is because almighty Jove hath will’d80
That the Achaian host should perish here
Inglorious, from their country far remote.
When he vouchsafed assistance to the Greeks,
I knew it well; and now, not less I know
That high as the immortal Gods he lifts85
Our foes to glory, and depresses us.
Haste therefore all, and act as I advise.
Our ships—all those that nearest skirt the Deep,
Launch we into the sacred flood, and moor
With anchors safely, till o’ershadowing night90
(If night itself may save us) shall arrive.
Then may we launch the rest; for I no shame
Account it, even by ’vantage of the night
To fly destruction. Wiser him I deem
Who ’scapes his foe, than whom his foe enthralls.95
But him Ulysses, frowning stern, reproved.
What word, Atrides, now hath pass’d thy lips?
Counsellor of despair! thou should’st command
(And would to heaven thou didst) a different host,
Some dastard race, not ours; whom Jove ordains100
From youth to hoary age to weave the web
Of toilsome warfare, till we perish all.
Wilt thou the spacious city thus renounce
For which such numerous woes we have endured?
Hush! lest some other hear; it is a word105
Which no man qualified by years mature
To speak discreetly, no man bearing rule
O’er such a people as confess thy sway,
Should suffer to contaminate his lips.
I from my soul condemn thee, and condemn110
Thy counsel, who persuad’st us in the heat
Of battle terrible as this, to launch
Our fleet into the waves, that we may give
Our too successful foes their full desire,
And that our own prepondering scale115
May plunge us past all hope; for while they draw
Their galleys down, the Grecians shall but ill
Sustain the fight, seaward will cast their eyes
And shun the battle, bent on flight alone.
Then, shall they rue thy counsel, King of men!120