Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 365, March, 1846. Various

Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 365, March, 1846 - Various


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the Compeller of Clouds thus answer'd her, interposing:

      "Hera! with Gods the debate, nor beseems the upbraiding of anger.

      Not in equivalent honour the twain; yet was generous Hector

      Dearest at heart to the Gods among Ilion's blood of the death-doom'd:

      Dearest to me; for his gifts from his youth were unfailingly tender'd;

      Never to altar of mine was his dutiful sacrifice wanting,

      Savour, or costly libation; for such is our homage appointed.

      Dear was the generous Hector; yet never for that shall be sanction'd

      Stealthy removal, or aught that receives not assent from Achilles.

      Daily and nightly, be sure, in his sorrow his mother attends him;

      Swiftly some messenger hence, and let Thetis be moved to approach me:

      So may some temperate word find way to his heart, and Peleides

      Bend to the gifts of the king, and surrender the body of Hector."

      Zeus having spoken, up sprang, for his messenger, swift-footed Iris;

      And between Samos anon and the rocks of precipitous Imber

      Smote on the black sea-wave, and about her the channel resounded:

      Then, as the horn-fixt lead drops sheer from the hand of the islesman,

      Fatal to ravenous fish, plung'd she to the depth of the ocean:

      Where in a cavern'd recess, the abode of the sisterly Sea-nymphs,

      Thetis the goddess appear'd, in the midst of them sitting dejected;

      For she was ruefully brooding the fate of her glorious offspring,

      Doom'd to a Phrygian grave, far off from the land of his fathers.

      Near to her standing anon, thus summon'd her wind-footed Iris:

      "Thetis, arise! thou art calléd by Zeus whose decrees are eternal."

      But she was instantly answer'd by Thetis the silvery-footed: —

      "Why hath the Mightiest calléd for me? Overburthen'd with sorrow,

      How shall I stand in the place where the Gods are assembled in splendour?

      Yet will I go: never word that He speaketh in vain may be spoken."

      So having spoken, the Goddess in majesty peerless, arising,

      Veil'd her in mantle of black; never gloomier vesture was woven;

      And she advanced, but, for guidance, the wind-footed Iris preceded.

      Then the o'erhanging abyss of the ocean was parted before them,

      And having touched on the shore, up darted the twain into Æther;

      Where, in the mansion of Zeus Far-seeing, around him were gather'd

      All the assembly of Gods, without sorrow, whose life is eternal:

      And by the throne was she seated; for Blue-eyed Pallas Athena

      Yielded the place; and, the goblet of gold being tender'd by Hera

      Softly with comforting words, soon as Thetis had drank and restored it,

      Then did the Father of gods and of men thus open his purpose:

      "Thou to Olympus hast come, O Goddess! though press'd with affliction;

      Bearing, I know it, within thee a sorrow that ever is wakeful.

      Listen then, Thetis, and hear me discover the cause of the summons:

      Nine days agone there arose a contention among the Immortals,

      Touching the body of Hector and Town-destroying Achilles:

      Some to a stealthy removal inciting the slayer of Argus,

      But in my bosom prevailing concern for the fame of Peleides,

      Love and respect, as of old, toward Thee, and regard of hereafter.

      Hasten then, Thou, to the camp, and by Thee let thy son be admonished:

      Tell that the Gods are in anger, and I above all the Immortals,

      For that the corse is detain'd by the ships, and he spurns at a ransom;

      If there be awe toward me, let it move the surrender of Hector.

      Iris the while will I send to bid generous Priam adventure,

      That he may rescue his son, straightway to the ships of Achaia,

      Laden with gifts for Achilles, wherewith to appease and content him."

      Nor was the white-footed Thetis unsway'd by the word of Kronion;

      But she descended amain, at a leap, from the peaks of Olympus,

      And to the tent of her son went straight; and she found him within it

      Groaning in heavy unrest – but around him his loving companions

      Eager in duty appear'd, as preparing the meal for the midday.

      Bulky and woolly the sheep they within the pavilion had slaughter'd.

      Then by the side of the chief sat Thetis the mother majestic,

      And she caress'd with her hand on his cheek, and address'd him and named him —

      "How long wilt thou, my child, thus groan, in a pauseless affliction

      Eating thy heart, neither mindful of food nor the pillow of slumber?

      Well were it surely for thee to be mingled in love with a woman;

      Few are, bethink thee, the days thou shalt live in the sight of thy mother;

      Near even now stands Death, and the violent Destiny shades thee.

      Listen meantime to my word, for from Zeus is the message I bear thee;

      Wrathful, he says, are the Gods, but himself above all the Immortals,

      For that in rage thou detainest the dead, nor is ransom accepted.

      Haste thee, deliver the corse, and be sooth'd with the gifts of redemption."

      Ceased then Thetis divine, and Peleides the swift-footed answer'd:

      "So let it be: let a ransom be brought, and the body surrender'd,

      Since the Olympian minds it in earnest, and sends the commandment."

      Thus at the station of ships had the son and the mother communion.

      Iris from Zeus meanwhile had descended to Ilion holy:

      "Go," said he, "Iris the swift, and make speed from the seat of Olympus

      Down into Ilion, bearing my message to generous Priam.

      Forth to the ships let him fare with a ransom to soften Peleides —

      Priam alone; not a man from the gates of the city attending:

      Save that for driving the mules be some elderly herald appointed,

      Who may have charge of the wain with the treasure, and back to the city

      Carefully carry the dead that was slain by the godlike Achilles.

      Nor be there death in the thought of the king, nor confusion of terror;

      Such is the guard I assign for his guiding, the slayer of Argus,

      Who shall conduct him in peace till he reaches the ships of Achaia.

      Nor when, advancing alone, he has enter'd the tent of Peleides,

      Need there be fear that he kill: he would shield him if menac'd by others;

      For neither reasonless he, nor yet reckless, nor wilfully wicked:

      But when a suppliant bends at his knee he will kindly entreat him."

      Swift at the bidding of Zeus arose wind-footed Iris, and nearing

      Soon the abode of the king,


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