An Iliad. Alessandro Baricco

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ arrows and stones, and then Agamemnon cried, ‘Stop! Achaeans, do not strike him, Hector wants to speak!’ and then we, too, stopped. There was a great silence. And in that silence Hector spoke to the two armies: ‘Listen to me! Hear what Paris says, the man who caused this war. He wants you to lay down your arms, and asks to fight alone against Menelaus, and let a duel decide who will have Helen and her wealth.’

      The armies remained silent. Then the powerful voice of Menelaus was heard. ‘Listen to me as well: I am the offended one and more than anyone else have a wrong to avenge. Stop fighting, because by now you have all suffered too much from this war that Paris started. I will fight him, and destiny will decide which of us two must die. You find a way to make peace as quickly as possible. Let the Achaeans go and offer a lamb to Zeus. And you, Trojans, get a white lamb and a black one, for the Earth and the Sun. And summon the great king Priam, so that he may sanction the peace: his sons are proud and not to be trusted, but he is an old man, and old men know how to look at the past and the future together, and understand what’s best for all. Have him come and seal the peace: and may no one dare to break a pact sanctioned in the name of Zeus.’

      I heard his words and then I saw the joy of those two armies, suddenly united by the hope of putting an end to the agonies of war. I saw the warriors descend from their chariots and take off their arms and lay them on the ground, covering the plain with bronze. I had never seen peace so close. Then I turned and looked for Nestor, the old sage Nestor. I wanted to look him in the eyes, and in his eyes see war die, and the arrogance of those who wish for it, and the folly of those who fight it.

       HELEN

      Like a slave, I was silent in my rooms that day, forced to weave on a blood-coloured cloth the exploits of the Trojans and the Achaeans in that grievous war fought for me. Suddenly Laodice, the most beautiful of Priam’s daughters, entered and called to me, ‘Hurry, Helen, come and look down, Trojans and Achaeans … they were all on the plain, eager for blood and about to fight, and now they are silent, facing each other, with their shields resting on the ground and their spears planted in the earth … It’s said that the war has stopped, and that Paris and Menelaus are going to fight for you: you’ll be the winner’s prize.’

      Suddenly, listening to her, I wanted to cry, because I felt a powerful yearning for the man I had married, and for my family, and my country. I wrapped myself in a shining white veil and ran to the wall, my eyes still f illed with tears. When I reached the tower above the Scaean gates I saw the old men of Troy, who had gathered there to watch what was happening on the plain. They were too old to fight, but they liked to talk – and in that they were masters. Like cicadas in a tree, they never stopped to listen to their own voices. I heard them murmuring, when they saw me, ‘It’s not surprising that Trojans and Achaeans should kill one another for that woman – doesn’t she seem a goddess? But I wish the ships would take her away, her and her beauty, or our ruin and that of our children will never end.’ Thus they spoke, but without daring to look at me. The only one who looked was Priam. ‘Come, daughter,’ he said to me, raising his voice. ‘Come and sit beside me. You aren’t to blame in all this. It’s the gods who have brought this misfortune on me. Come, from here you can see your husband, and your relatives, your friends … Tell me, who is that imposing man, that noble Achaean warrior? Others are taller but I have never seen one so handsome, so stately: he has the look of a king.’

      Then I went to him and answered, ‘I honour and fear you, Priam, father of my new husband. Oh, if only I had had the courage to die rather than follow your son here, abandoning my marriage bed, and my daughter, still a child, and my beloved companions … but it was not so, and now I am worn out with weeping. But you want to know who that man is. He is the son of Atreus, Agamemnon, the most powerful king and a brave fighter: at one time, if that time ever existed, he was the brother-in-law of this worthless woman who is now talking to you.’

      Priam went on looking down at the fighters. ‘And that man,’ he asked, ‘who is he? Shorter than Agamemnon but his chest and shoulders are broader. Do you see him? He is reviewing the ranks, and is like a thick-fleeced ram wandering among flocks of white sheep.’

      ‘That is Odysseus,’ I answered, ‘the son of Laertes, who grew up on the rocky island of Ithaca and is famous for his cunning and his intelligence.’

      ‘It’s true,’ said Priam. ‘I’ve met him. He came here once as an envoy, with Menelaus, to discuss your fate. I welcomed them in my house. Menelaus, I recall, spoke quickly, a few clear words. He spoke well, but he was young … Odysseus, on the other hand … when it was his turn to speak, he didn’t move. He looked down as if not knowing what to say: he seemed overcome by anger or else a complete fool. But when, finally, he spoke, a voice emerged so deep … the words were like winter snow … and no man would have dared challenge him, my daughter, and it didn’t matter if he was shorter than Menelaus or Agamemnon …’

      Then among the fighters Priam discerned Ajax, and asked me, ‘And that man, who is bigger and stronger than all the other Achaeans, who is he?’ And I answered, and spoke to him of Ajax, and then of Idomeneus, and then of the other Achaean chiefs. I could recognise them all now, the bright-eyed Achaeans. One by one I could have talked of them to that old man, who wanted to know who his enemies were. But at that point Idaeus, the herald, arrived. He approached Priam and said, ‘Rise, son of Laomedon. The leaders of the Teucrians, breakers of horses, and of the bronze-armoured Achaeans invite you to descend to the plain, to approve a new agreement between the two armies. Paris and Menelaus with their long spears will fight for Helen. All the others will seal a pact of friendship and peace.’

      Priam listened, and he shuddered. But then he ordered horses to be brought, and when everything was ready he got into his swift chariot, along with Antenor, and they went out of the Scaean gates at a gallop. They crossed the plain, and when they reached the armies they stopped right in the middle, between Trojans and Achaeans. I saw Agamemnon stand, and with him Odysseus. The heralds brought animals for the sacrifices that would seal the pacts. They mixed the wine in the great bowl, and poured water over the hands of the kings.

      Then Agamemnon raised his hands to heaven and prayed to Zeus in the name of all. ‘Father Zeus, supreme and glorious, and you, Sun, who see all and hear all; Rivers, Earth and you who under the earth punish traitors, be our witnesses and preserve our pacts: if Paris kills Menelaus, he will take Helen and all her possessions, and we will go away forever on our ships that plough the sea; and if Menelaus kills Paris, the Trojans will give us Helen and all her possessions, and will pay the Argives a price so high that it will be remembered for generations and generations. And if Priam and his sons are unwilling to pay, I will fight for that recompense, and remain here, until this war ends.’

      So he prayed, and then with a sure stroke he slaughtered the lambs and laid them, trembling as they died, on the ground. All the chiefs drank from the great wine bowl and prayed to the gods. And they said to one another, ‘If anyone dares to violate the pacts, may Zeus pour out his brains and those of his children as we pour this wine!’ When everything was done, Priam, the old king, the old father, climbed into his chariot beside Antenor and said to the Trojans and the Achaeans, ‘Let me return to my wind-whipped city, because I don’t have the heart to watch my son Paris fight here with fierce Menelaus.’ He spurred on the horses himself, and went off.

      Then came the duel. Hector and Odysseus marked out on the ground the area where the two men would fight. Then they placed lots in a helmet, and, after shaking them, Odysseus, without looking, drew the name of the one who would be first to hurl the deadly spear. And fate chose Paris. The warriors were sitting all around. I watched Paris, my new husband, put on his armour: first the fine greaves, fastened with silver pins; then the breastplate over his chest; and the bronze sword studded with silver, and the big heavy shield. He placed on his head the shining helmet: the tall crest blew in the wind, stirring fear. Finally СКАЧАТЬ