The Iliad of Homer Homer translated by William Cullen Bryant Fields, Osgood, & Co. Boston 1870 Homer The Iliad of Homer translated by William Cullen Bryant Boston Fields, Osgood, & Co. 1870 This text is a digital transcription of William Cullen Bryant's translation of Homer's Iliad.

This pointer pattern extracts Book and Line

This pointer pattern extracts Book

Each book of the Iliad begins with a new line numbering, starting from line 1.

 English Homer Iliad Epic poetry Classical literature William Cullen Bryant Translation Converted original header structure to match EpiDoc template. Did a first pass adding Perseus card passes using Gemini. I had done a preliminary XML version earlier.
PREFACE.

HAVING now nearly completed my translation of the Iliad of Homer, I sit down to write the Preface, that it may be prefixed to the first volume. To this task of translation, which I began in 1865, I afterwards gave myself the more willingly because it helped in some measure to divert my mind from a great domestic sorrow. I am not sure that, when it shall be concluded, it may not cost me some regret to part with so interesting a companion as the old Greek poet, whose thoughts I have, for four years past, been occupied, though with interruptions, in the endeavor to transfer from his own grand and musical Greek to our less sonorous but still manly and flexible tongue.

In what I shall say of my own translation I do not mean to speak in disparagement of any of the previous English versions of the Iliad, nor to extenuate my obligations to some of them. I acknowledge that although Homer is, as Cowper has well observed, the most perspicuous of poets, I have been sometimes, perhaps often, guided by the labors of my predecessors to a better mode of dealing with certain refractory passages of my author than I should otherwise have found. Let me, without detracting from their merits, state what I have endeavored to do. I have endeavored to be strictly faithful in my rendering; to add nothing of my own, and to give the reader, so far as our language would allow, all that I found in the original. There are, however, in Homer, frequently recurring, certain expressions which are merely a kind of poetical finery, introduced when they are convenient to fill out a line or to give it a sonorous termination, and omitted when they are not needed for this purpose. The Greeks, for example, almost whenever they are spoken of, are magnanimous, or valiant, or warlike, or skilled in taming steeds: the Trojans are magnanimous also, and valiant, and warlike, and equally eminent in horsemanship. The warriors of the Iliad are all sons of some magnanimous or warlike parent. Achilles is the son of Peleus, and Peleus is magnanimous; and these epithets are repeated upon page after page throughout the poem. Achilles is spoken of as swift-footed or godlike almost whenever he appears, and sometimes is honored by both epithets. Hector is illustrious, and knightly, and distinguished by his beamy crest. Even the coxcomb Paris, for whom Homer seems to entertain a proper contempt, is godlike. These complimentary additions to the name of the warrior are, however, dispensed with whenever the hexameter is rounded to a well-sounding conclusion without them. Where they appear in the Greek, I have in nearly all instances retained them, making Achilles swift-footed and Ulysses fertile in resources, to the end of the poem; but in a very few cases, where they embarrassed the versification, I have used the liberty taken by Homer himself, and left them out. Everywhere else it has been my rule not to exclude from the translation anything which I found in the text of my author.

There is another point in regard to which I have taken equal pains, and which seems to me equally important. I have endeavored to preserve the simplicity of style which distinguishes the old Greek poet, who wrote for the popular ear and according to the genius of his language, and I have chosen such English as offers no violence to the ordinary usages and structure of our own. I have sought to attain what belongs to the original, -a fluent narrative style, which shall carry the reader forward without the impediment of unexpected inversions and capricious phrases, and in which, if he find nothing to stop at and admire, there will at least be nothing to divert his attention from the story and the characters of the poem, from the events related and the objects described. I think that not many readers of the present day would agree with Pope, who, as Spence relates, after remarking that he had nothing to say for rhyme, went on to observe that he doubted whether a poem could be supported without it in our language, unless it were stiffened with such strange words as would destroy our language itself. It is remarkable that this should have been said by one who had given the reading world an edition of Shakespeare, in whose dramas are to be found passages of blank-verse which might be instanced as the perfection of that form of versification, - not to be excelled in sweetness of modulation, and grace and freedom of language, - without a single harsh inversion, or any of that clumsy stiffening which Pope so disapproved, yet seemed to think so necessary. The other dramatists of the Elizabethan period also supply examples of the same noble simplicity of language and construction, suited to the highest poetry. In this translation the natural order of the words has been carefully preserved, as far as the exigencies of versification would allow, and I have ventured only upon those easy deviations from it which form no interruptions to the sense, and at most only remind the reader that he is reading verse.

I have chosen blank-verse for this reason among others, that it enabled me to keep more closely to the original in my rendering, without any sacrifice either of ease or of spirit in the expression. The use of rhyme in a translation is a constant temptation to petty infidelities, and to the employment of expressions which have an air of constraint, and do not the most adequately convey the thought. I had my reasons also for not adopting the ballad measure, which some have thought to allow the nearest approach to the manner of Homer. There are, it is true, certain affinities between the style of Homer and that of the old ballad poems of Great Britain. Both were the productions of a rude age; both were composed to be sung to public audiences; and this gave occasion to certain characteristics in which they resemble each other. But the Homeric poems, as it seems to me, are beyond the popular ballads of any modern nation in reach of thought and in richness of phraseology; and if I had adopted that form of poetry there would have been, besides the disadvantage of rhyme, a temptation to make the version conform in style and spirit to the old ballads of our own literature, in a degree which the original does not warrant, and which, as I think, would lead to some sacrifice of its dignity. I did not adopt the hexameter verse, principally for the reason that in our language it is confessedly an imperfect form of versifica- tion, the true rhythm of which is very difficult for those whose ear is accustomed only to our ordinary metres to perceive. I found that I could not possibly render the Greek hexameters line for line, like Voss in his marvellous German version, in which he has not only done this, but generally preserved the pauses in the very part of the line in which Homer placed them. We have so many short words in English, and so few of the connective particles which are lavishly used by Homer, that often when I reached the end of the Greek line I found myself only in the middle of my line in English. This difficulty of subduing the thought-by compression or expansion of phrase to the limits it must fill would alone have been sufficient to deter me from attempting a translation in hexameters. I therefore fell back upon blank-verse, which has been the vehicle of some of the noblest poetry in our language; both because it seemed to me by the flexibility of its construction best suited to a narrative poem, and because, while it enabled me to give the sense of my author more perfectly than any other form of verse, it allowed me also to avoid in a greater degree the appearance of constraint which is too apt to belong to a translation.

I make no apology for employing in my version the names Jupiter, Juno, Venus, and others of Latin origin, for Zeus, Here, Aphrodite, and other Greek names of the deities of whom Homer speaks. The names which I have adopted have been naturalized in our language for centuries, and some of them, as Mercury, Vulcan, and Dian, have even been provided with English terminations. I was translating from Greek into English, and I therefore translated the names of the gods, as well as the other parts of the poem.

In explanation of what may appear to some readers an unauthorized abridgment of the famous simile of the moon and stars at the end of the Eighth Book, I will mention here, by way of note, - the only one which I shall have occasion to make, - that in translating I have omitted two lines of the text, which the best critics regard as not properly belonging to it, but as transferred by some interpolator from another simile in the Sixteenth Book, where they are found in their proper place.

In the intimate acquaintance with the Iliad which the work of translation has given me, an impression has been revived which was made upon my mind when in my boyhood I first read that poem in an English version. I recollect very well the eager curiosity with which I seized upon the translation of Pope when it came within my reach, and with what avidity I ran through the pages which rendered into our language what was acknowledged to be the greatest production of poetic genius that the world had seen. I read with a deep interest for the fate of Troy, and with a kindly feeling toward Hector, whose part I took warmly against the bloodthirsty Achilles ; and great as might have been the guilt of Paris, I read with an earnest wish that Troy might be delivered from its besiegers. When I came to the end of the poem, I laid it down with a feeling of disappointment. I was not told, save in certain dim predictions, what became of Troy, which the Greeks had mustered from so many regions to besiege, nor what was the fate of the mild and venerable Priam, and the aged Hecuba, and Andromache, the gentle and affectionate wife, and her infant son, - personages for whose fortunes the poet had so powerfully awakened my concern and my curiosity. Helen, to recover whom the war was waged, was still in Troy, and Paris, her effeminate husband, was still alive and unharmed. Why the Trojans, who hated Paris-why Hector and the other sons of Priam, who disapproved of their brother's conduct — why Priam himself, who is never said to have approved of it, did not insist that the seducer should restore Helen to her first and proper husband, for whom she seems to have still entertained a lingering regard, I could never imagine. Particularly strange it seemed that Paris was not forced by his countrymen to give up Helen after the combat between him and Menelaus, in which he was clearly overcome, and by the terms of the solemn treaty which preceded the duel was bound to restore his stolen bride and her wealth to the Greeks. The poet has chosen to leave that circumstance without adequate explanation. The breaking of the truce by Pandarus, and the sudden renewal of the war in consequence, does not explain it, for afterwards, in the Seventh Book, we have Antenor proposing, in council, to restore Helen and her wealth, as a certain way of ending the war, - a proposal which is not adopted simply because Paris objects to it. Paris would not consent to restore Helen, and the Trojan princes and leaders, as if Paris were their absolute monarch, allowed him to have his way, and to prolong a war which Hector foresaw - as he says in the famous interview with Andromache - was to end in the destruction of Troy. The impression to which I refer has been confirmed by the minute study which I have recently made of the poem. I can make nothing of it but a detached chapter of the poetic history of the Trojan war, — an episode in the narrative of that long siege which was to be concluded by a greater event than any recorded in the Iliad, the taking of the city of Troy; - a work of an inexhaustible imagination, with characters vigorously drawn and finely discriminated, and incidents rapidly succeeding each other and infinitely diversified, - everywhere a noble simplicity, mellifluous numbers, and images of beauty and grandeur; yet everywhere indications that the poem had a continuation. It is full of references to events which are yet to be related, and provokes a desire for further disclosures, which it fails to gratify. There are frequent allusions to the brief term of life allotted to Achilles, and several, one of which I have already mentioned, to the final capture of Troy. Thetis predicts that her son, perishing almost immediately after taking the life of Hector, will not live to see the fall of the besieged city. The audiences before whom the books of the Iliad were recited by the minstrels would naturally say: "You speak of the capture of Troy; tell us how it was taken at last. Achilles, the mightiest of warriors, you say, was to be slain soon after the death of Hector. Relate the manner of his death, and how it was received by the Greeks and the Trojans. Describe his funeral, as you described those of his friend Patroclus and his adversary Hector. Tell us what became of Andromache, and Astyanax, her son, and all the royal family of Priam." Thus may we suppose that, until Aristotle arose to demonstrate the contrary, the fable of the Iliad must have appeared to the general mind to be incomplete.

Let me say a word or two of the personage whom the critics call the hero of the Iliad. Achilles is ill-used by Agamemnon, the general-in-chief of the Greeks, - and so far he has the sympathy of the reader; but he is a ferocious barbarian at best, and as the narrative proceeds, he loses all title to our interest. His horrid prayer that the Greeks may be slaughtered by thousands until they learn to despise a monarch who has done him a personal injury, and his inhuman delight in the havoc made of them by the Trojans under Hector, cause us to turn from him with the horror and aversion due to a selfish and cruel nature which imposes no reserve or restraint upon its own impulses. His warm affection for his gentle friend and companion, Patroclus, partly restores him to our favor; but his pitiless treatment of the Trojans who supplicate him for quarter, and his capture of twelve Trojan youths in order to cut their throats at the funeral pile of Patroclus, as he afterwards does in cold blood, bring back our disgust; and when Hector with his dying voice warns him of his approaching death, the reader has no objection to offer. If Achilles be the hero of the poem, the poet has not succeeded in obtaining for him either our good opinion or our good wishes. In the fortunes of Hector, however, whose temper is noble and generous, who while grieving at the crime of Paris defends his country with all his valor, whose character is as gentle and affectionate as it is spirited and manly, it is impossible for the reader not to feel a strong interest. The last book of the Iliad relates the recovery of his dead body from the Greeks, and the celebration of his funeral in Troy. In this book, also, the character of Achilles appears less unamiable, since he grants the rites of hospitality to Priam, and is persuaded by his entreaties to restore, for a princely ransom, the dead body of Hector, contrary to his first resolution. It is to be observed, however, that he is moved to this, not by his own native magnanimity, but by considerations which indirectly relate to himself, - that is to say, by being artfully led to think of his own father, Peleus, an aged man like Priam, anxiously waiting in his distant palace for the return of his son from the war, and fearing that he may never behold him again. Once in the interview with Priam the fierce and brutal nature of Achilles breaks out in threats, which terrify the old king into silence. Priam is himself warned by the gods that he is not safe in remaining overnight in the tent of Achilles, and, lest he should not be protected from the ferocity of Agamemnon, withdraws by stealth in the darkness and returns to Troy.

I have no answer to make to those who regard it as a blemish in the great work of Homer that he represents the gods in their dealings with men as governed, for the most part, by motives either mean and base, or frivolous and childish. In the Trojan war everything happens by their direction or their prompting. In the system of Homer it is they who stir up men to strife, who bring on the battles, promote the slaughter, and bring it to an end, urge the personages of the fable to ruinous follies and imprudences, and give or withhold victory at their pleasure; and in all this their rule is not one of justice and beneficence, but of caprice. Their favor is purchased by hecatombs, and their hatred incurred by acts which have no moral quality that should give offence to an upright judge. They are debauched, mercenary, rapacious, and cruel; they dwell in a world in which the rules of right and the maxims necessary to the well-being of human society find no recognition. It was for this reason that Plato, the earliest author of an Index expurgatorius, forbade the circulation of the writings of the Greek poets in his imaginary commonwealth.

Yet let me say this in favor of my author, that in one part of the poem the absolute rectitude of the Divine government is solemnly recognized. In the Third Book of the Iliad, a truce is agreed upon between the Trojans and the Greeks, while Menelaus and Paris are to decide by single combat the quarrel which has occasioned the siege of Troy. A compact is made, according to which the victor is to possess Helen and her wealth, and the Trojans and Greeks are ever afterward to remain friends and allies. The gods are invoked to be witnesses of the treaty, and to pursue with their vengeance those by whom it shall be violated, whether they be Greeks or Trojans. Few passages in the Iliad are more striking or of graver import than this appeal to the justice of the gods, - this testimony, given by two warring nations, of their confidence in the equity with which the immortals govern the world. Paris is overcome by Menelaus in the combat; the truce is broken by a Trojan, who wounds Menelaus severely; the treaty is not fulfilled by delivering up Helen; and, as the action of the poem proceeds in the next book, Agamemnon exhorts the Greeks to fight valiantly, in the full assurance that Jupiter and the other gods will never permit treachery to remain unpunished; and accordingly he predicts a terrible retribution already hanging over Troy. And whatever may be our admiration for the amiable and noble qualities of Hector, and our sympathy for the thousands of innocent persons dwelling in his populous city, it cannot be denied that the interference of the gods in the affairs of Troy leads in the end to a great result consistent with sub- stantial justice. Paris, the violator of the laws of hospitality, the adulterer and robber, is sheltered, protected, and countenanced in Troy, - the Trojan people make themselves partakers in his guilt; and in the end they share in its punishment. Hector, the prop of their state, the champion in whom they put their trust, is slain; and we are allowed, by means of predictions, a glimpse of the coming destruction of Troy, and learn that the sceptre of the kingdom will pass from the house of Priam, whose son committed the crime which led to the war, and will be swayed by the posterity of the blameless Æneas.

Here I leave my translation in the hands of the reading public, who, if they do not wholly neglect it, will judge whether I have made any approach toward the fulfilment of the design set forth in the beginning of this Preface.

W. C. BRYANT.

DECEMBER, 1869.

The contention of Achilles and Agamemnon The Visit of Chryses, Priest of Apollo, to Agamemnon, asking the Ransom of his Daughter. Refusal of Agamemnon. A Pestilence sent by Apollo upon the Greek Army. A Council called by Achilles. The Cause of the Pestilence declared by the Seer Calchas. Dispute between Agamemnon and Achilles, which ends with the taking away of Briseis from Achilles. The Daughter of Chryses restored to him. Visit of Thetis to Jupiter, who promises to avenge Achilles. Mutual Chiding of Jupiter and Juno.
The Dream of Agamemnon, and the Catalogue of the Ships A treacherous Dream sent by Jupiter to Agamemnon, who assembles the Army in the Hope to take Troy. Debate of the Chiefs in Council. Agamemnon pretends a Desire to return to Greece, in Order to try the Disposition of the Army. They rush to the Ships. Ulysses, at the instance of Pallas, stays their Flight and rebukes Thersites. Advice of Nestor to review the Troops. Catalogue of the Troops and Ships. Enumeration of the Trojan Forces.
The Single Combat of Menelaus and Paris The two Armies approach each other. Hector chides him, and he consents. Helen is called to behold the Duel. She points out the different Greek Captains to Priam. The Lists are prepared, and the Oaths taken. Combat between Paris and Menelaus. Venus rescues Paris. Agamemnon demands the Fulfilment of the Agreement.
The Breaking of the Truce, and the First Battle A Council of the Gods, who decide that the War shall go on. - Minerva sent down to cause the Breaking of the Truce. Pandarus persuaded by her to aim an Arrow at Menelaus, who is wounded by it and healed by Machaon. Exhortations of Agamemnon addressed to the Greek Chiefs. A furious Battle, and great Slaughter on both Sides.
The Exploits of Diomed The Valor of Diomed, aided by Minerva. He is wounded by Pandarus, and healed by the Goddess, who forbids him to fight with any of the Immortals, save Venus. His Combat with Pandarus and Æneas. Pandarus slain, and Æneas, wounded and in great Danger, rescued by Venus, who in the act is wounded by Diomed, and leaves Æneas to the Care of Apollo. Apollo then carries Æneas from the Field, and places him in the care of Latona and Diana in Pergamus, where he is healed. Meantime Apollo calls Mars to the aid of the Trojans, and Hector is encouraged by the return of Æneas to the Field. Sarpedon, the Lycian Leader, slays Tlepolemus. Ulysses makes great Slaughter of the Trojans. Juno and Pallas come to the aid of the Greeks, and Mars is wounded by Diomed. - Return of the Gods to Heaven.
Interviews between Glaucus and Diomed, and Hector and Andromache Successes of the Greeks. Hector recalled to Troy by Helenus, to appoint a Procession of the Trojan Matrons to the Temple of Minerva. Meeting of Glaucus and Diomed, who recognize each other as old Friends. - Their Exchange of Weapons. Meeting of Hector and Hecuba. - Hecuba and the Matrons of Troy go in Procession to the Temple of Minerva. Hector goes to the Palace of Paris, whom he finds polishing his Armor. He rebukes his Brother for his absence from the Field. After a conversation with Helen, Paris arms and accompanies Hector. Hector's Interview with Andromache.
The Combat of Hector and Ajax Prowess of Hector. Meeting of Minerva and Apollo near the Scæan Gates. They incite Hector to challenge the Greeks to a Single Combat. Ajax selected by Lot to meet Hector. The Combat ended by the Night. Proposal of Antenor to deliver Helen to the Greeks. Refusal of Paris, who offers to restore her Wealth. Rejection of this Offer by Agamemnon. A Truce for burying the Dead. The Greek Camp fortified.
The Second Battle A Council of the Gods. - Jupiter forbids them to take Part with either Side. Minerva permitted to advise the Greeks. Beginning of the Second Battle. The Fate of the two Armies weighed in the Scales by Jupiter. Nestor rescued by Diomed. Exploits of Diomed and of Hector. Juno and Minerva restrained by Jupiter from going to the Aid of the Greeks, who are driven within their Intrenchments. The Trojans pass the Night before the Greek Camp, and kindle Fires around it.
The Embassy to Achilles Agamemnon's Proposal to raise the Siege opposed by Diomed and Nestor. A Council. - Ulysses, Ajax, and Phoenix sent to Achilles to request a Reconciliation. Their Reception, their Persuasions, and their Ill Success.
The Night-Adventure of Diomed and Ulysses Agamemnon's Distress at the Obstinacy of Achilles. - Consults with Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses, and Diomed. A Council. Diomed and Ulysses set out for the Enemy's Camp to learn his Designs. Death of Dolon, the Trojan Spy. Rhesus the Thracian killed in his Tent and his Horses taken.
The Third Battle, and Exploits of Agamemnon Renewal of the Fight by Agamemnon. - His Prowess. Hector warned by Iris not to fight till Agamemnon is wounded. Agamemnon disabled. Hector makes great Havoc till checked by Ulysses and Diomed. Diomed wounded by Paris, and rescued by Ajax, who rallies the Greeks. Machaon wounded. Conversations of Nestor and Patroclus.
The Battle at the Grecian Wall Division of the Trojan Army, by Advice of Polydamas, into Five Bodies, to storm the Greek Intrenchments. A Breach in the Wall made by Sarpedon. One of the Gates beaten open by Hector with a Stone. - His Entrance at the Head of his Troops.
The Continuation of the Fourth Battle Descent of Neptune in Aid of the Greeks. - His Exhortations addressed to the Chiefs. The Trojans harangued by Hector, and the Battle renewed with great Fury. - Hector's Advance checked by the Ajaxes, who rally the Greeks. Exploits of Meriones and Idomeneus. Idomeneus forced to retire by Deiphobus and Æneas. The Trojans, hard pressed on their left, are rallied by Hector. Reproof of Paris by Hector, and mutual Defiance of Hector and Ajax.
The Fraud Practised on Jupiter by Juno Consultation of Agamemnon with Nestor, Diomed, and Ulysses. - Proposal of Agamemnon to withdraw from Troy by Night opposed by Ulysses. - Visit made by these wounded Chiefs to the Battle-field, in order to encourage the Army. The Cestus of Venus borrowed by Juno, who decoys Jupiter to her Chamber, where he falls asleep. Neptune meanwhile actively aids the Greeks, who commit great Slaughter. Hector wounded by Ajax.
The Fifth Battle at the Ships The Anger of Jupiter on awaking appeased by Juno's Denial that she had instigated Neptune to aid the Greeks. Iris despatched to recall Neptune from the Field. Mars, enraged at the Death of his Son Ascalaphus and arming to aid the Trojans, is restrained by Minerva. Hector healed by Apollo. - His Return to the Field. The Greeks driven back to the Ships by the Trojans, who attempt to set the Fleet on Fire. Defence of the Ships by Ajax.
The Sixth Battle.—Death of Patroclus Patroclus permitted by Achilles to take Part in the War, on Condition that he will return after repulsing the Trojans from the Fleet. His Preparations for the Battle, putting on the Armor of Achilles, and summoning the Myrmidons to follow him. Alarm of the Trojans on seeing him, supposing him to be Achilles. - His Exploits. - The Trojans driven back from the Fleet. Death of Sarpedon. The Trojans pursued by Patroclus, contrary to the Command of Achilles, to the Walls of Troy. Patroclus disarmed by Apollo, wounded by Euphorbus, and slain by Hector.
The Seventh Battle Contest for the Body of Patroclus, which is guarded by Menelaus. - Death of Euphorbus. Retreat of Menelaus, and his Return with Ajax, after which Hector is obliged to give Way. Hector reproved for this by Glaucus. - He puts on the Armor of Patroclus, and renews the Contest, driving back the Greeks. Rally of the Greeks by Ajax. - Bravery of Æneas. Flight of Automedon with the Horses and Chariot of Patroclus. - The Defenders of the Body of Patroclus involved in Darkness, which is dispelled at the Prayer of Ajax. A Message sent to Achilles informing him of the Death of Patroclus, whose Body is rescued and borne off by Menelaus and Meriones.
The Grief of Achilles for the Death of Patroclus Lamentation of Achilles over Patroclus. A Visit of Condolence from Thetis and her Nymphs. Appearance of Achilles on the Intrenchments, and consequent Alarm of the Trojans. A Council of War held by the Trojan Chiefs. - Advice of Polydamas to withdraw from the Field into Troy opposed by Hector, and rejected. Vulcan engaged by Thetis to forge a new Suit of Armor for Achilles.
The Reconciliation of Achilles and Agamemnon Thetis brings to Achilles the Armor forged by Vulcan. - The Body of Patroclus preserved by the Gods from Corruption. An Assembly of all the Army, before whom Agamemnon and Achilles make Speeches, and renounce their Enmity. - Briseis restored to Achilles, and the Presents of Agamemnon accepted by him. Lament of Briseis over Patroclus. Sorrow of Achilles. He arms himself for the War. His Speech to the Horses of Patroclus, whom he upbraids for having suffered their Master to be slain. - The Answer of one of them named Xanthus, warning Achilles of his approaching Death.
The Battle of the Gods Permission given by Jupiter to the Gods to take Part in the War. The Combat renewed with great Violence and Tumult. Æneas, encountering Achilles, to which he is encouraged by Apollo, is only preserved from Death by the Interposition of Neptune. Slaughter of the Trojans by Achilles. Hector, when in Danger of being slain, snatched from the Presence of Achilles by Phœbus in a Cloud. - Havoc made by Achilles in the Trojan Army.
The Battle in the River Scamander Flight of the Trojans before Achilles, some toward Troy, and the rest toward the River Scamander. Twelve Trojan Youths made captive in the River, to be butchered at the Funeral Pile of Patroclus. Insult offered by Achilles to the God of the River, who causes his Waters to rush against him, and forces him to flee for his Life. - Interference of Vulcan, who is summoned by Juno to the Aid of Achilles, and who, by drying up the Waters of the River, compels it to submit. Combat of Mars and Minerva, and of the other Gods. Achilles decoyed away from the Gates of Troy by Apollo disguised in the form of Agenor, while the Trojans enter the City.
The Death of Hector Refusal of Hector to enter the City, though entreated by Priam and Hecuba. His Resolve to meet Achilles, and his Flight when Achilles approaches. Descent of Minerva to aid Achilles. - Deceit practised by her on Hector, when, assuming the Form of his Brother Deiphobus, she induces him to encounter Achilles. His Death. His Body dragged at the Chariot-wheels of the Victor. Lament of Priam and Hecuba. The News brought to Andromache while engaged at the Loom. Her Sorrow and Lamentation.
The Funeral of Patroclus Preparations for the Funeral of Patroclus hastened by his Appearance to Achilles in a Dream. Wood brought from the Forest for the Funeral Pile. A Funeral Procession, with Offerings of Hair shorn from the Heads of the Chiefs and laid on the Dead. Sacrifice offered, and the Twelve Trojan Youths slain, and the Pile kindled. The Funeral Games, at which Achilles presides.
The Body of Hector Recovered A Council of the Gods. Thetis sent to make Achilles willing to restore the Body of Hector to his Friends. Iris sent to Priam, bidding him go in Person to Achilles and ask for the Body. - Visit of Priam made by Night to the Tent of Achilles, who is moved by his Entreaties and magnificent Presents to deliver up the Remains of his Son. Departure of Priam by Night with the Body from the Tent of Achilles. Lament of Andromache, Hector, and Helen over the Dead. The Funeral of Hector, with which the Poem closes.
THE ILIAD. BOOK I. GODDESS! sing the wrath of Peleus' son, Achilles; sing the deadly wrath that brought Woes numberless upon the Greeks, and swept To Hades many a valiant soul, and gave Their limbs a prey to dogs and birds of air, For so had Jove appointed, - from the time When the two chiefs, Atrides, king of men, And great Achilles, parted first as foes. Which of the gods put strife between the chiefs, That they should thus contend? Latona's son And Jove's. Incensed against the king, he bade A deadly pestilence appear among The army, and the men were perishing. For Atreus' son with insult had received Chryses the priest, who to the Grecian fleet Came to redeem his daughter, offering Uncounted ransom. In his hand he bore The fillets of Apollo, archer-god, Upon the golden sceptre, and he sued To all the Greeks, but chiefly to the sons Of Atreus, the two leaders of the host: "Ye sons of Atreus, and ye other chiefs, Well-greaved Achaians, may the gods who dwell Upon Olympus give you to o'erthrow The city of Priam, and in safety reach Your homes; but give me my beloved child, And take her ransom, honoring him who sends His arrows far, Apollo, son of Jove." Then all the other Greeks, applauding, bade Revere the priest and take the liberal gifts He offered, but the counsel did not please Atrides Agamemnon; he dismissed The priest with scorn, and added threatening words: - "Old man, let me not find thee loitering here, Beside the roomy ships, or coming back Hereafter, lest the fillet thou dost bear And sceptre of thy god protect thee not. This maiden I release not till old age Shall overtake her in my Argive home, Far from her native country, where her hand Shall throw the shuttle and shall dress my couch. Go, chafe me not, if thou wouldst safely go." He spake; the aged man in fear obeyed The mandate, and in silence walked apart, Along the many-sounding ocean-side, And fervently he prayed the monarch-god, Apollo, golden-haired Latona's son : "Hear me, thou bearer of the silver bow, Who guardest Chrysa, and the holy isle Of Cilla, and art lord in Tenedos, O Smintheus! if I ever helped to deck Thy glorious temple, if I ever burned Upon thy altar the fat thighs of goats And bullocks, grant my prayer, and let thy shafts Avenge upon the Greeks the tears I shed." So spake he supplicating, and to him Phœbus Apollo hearkened. Down he came, Down from the summit of the Olympian mount, Wrathful in heart; his shoulders bore the bow And hollow quiver; there the arrows rang Upon the shoulders of the angry god, As on he moved. He came as comes the night, And, seated from the ships aloof, sent forth An arrow; terrible was heard the clang Of that resplendent bow. At first he smote The mules and the swift dogs, and then on man He turned the deadly arrow. All around Glared evermore the frequent funeral piles. Nine days already had his shafts been showered Among the host, and now, upon the tenth, Achilles called the people of the camp To council. Juno, of the snow-white arms, Had moved his mind to this, for she beheld With sorrow that the men were perishing. And when the assembly met and now was full, Stood swift Achilles in the midst and said: - "To me it seems, Atrides, that 't were well, Since now our aim is baffled, to return Homeward, if death o'ertake us not; for war And pestilence at once destroy the Greeks. But let us first consult some seer or priest, Or dream-interpreter, for even dreams Are sent by Jove, - and ask him by what cause Phœbus Apollo has been angered thus; If by neglected vows or hecatombs, And whether savor of fat bulls and goats May move the god to stay the pestilence." He spake, and took again his seat; and next Rose Calchas, son of Thestor, and the chief Of augurs, one to whom were known things past And present and to come. He, through the art Of divination, which Apollo gave, Had guided Iliumward the ships of Greece. With words well ordered warily he spake: - "Achilles, loved of Jove, thou biddest me Explain the wrath of Phœbus, monarch-god, Who sends afar his arrows. Willingly Will I make known the cause; but covenant thou, And swear to stand prepared, by word and hand, To bring me succor. For my mind misgives That he who rules the Argives, and to whom The Achaian race are subject, will be wroth. A sovereign is too strong for humbler men, And though he keep his choler down awhile, It rankles, till he sate it, in his heart. And now consider: wilt thou hold me safe?" Achilles, the swift-footed, answered thus: "Fear nothing, but speak boldly out whate'er Thou knowest, and declare the will of Heaven. For by Apollo, dear to Jove, whom thou, Calchas, dost pray to, when thou givest forth The sacred oracles to men of Greece, No man, while yet I live, and see the light Of day, shall lay a violent hand on thee Among our roomy ships; no man of all The Grecian armies, though thou name the name Of Agamemnon, whose high boast it is To stand in power and rank above them all." Encouraged thus, the blameless seer went on: "Tis not neglected vows or hecatombs That move him, but the insult shown his priest, Whom Agamemnon spurned, when he refused To set his daughter free, and to receive Her ransom. Therefore sends the archer-god These woes upon us, and will send them still, Nor ever will withdraw his heavy hand From our destruction, till the dark-eyed maid Freely, and without ransom, be restored To her beloved father, and with her A sacred hecatomb to Chrysa sent. So may we haply pacify the god." Thus having said, the augur took his seat. And then the hero-son of Atreus rose, Wide-ruling Agamemnon, greatly chafed. His gloomy heart was full of wrath, his eyes Sparkled like fire; he fixed a menacing look Full on the augur Calchas, and began: - "Prophet of evil! never hadst thou yet A cheerful word for me. To mark the signs Of coming mischief is thy great delight. Good dost thou ne'er foretell nor bring to pass. And now thou pratest, in thine auguries, Before the Greeks, how that the archer-god Afflicts us thus, because I would not take The costly ransom offered to redeem The virgin child of Chryses. 'Twas my choice To keep her with me, for I prize her more Than Clytemnestra, bride of my young years, And deem her not less nobly graced than she, In form and feature, mind and pleasing arts. Yet will I give her back, if that be best; For gladly would I see my people saved From this destruction. Let meet recompense, Meantime, be ready, that I be not left, Alone of all the Greeks, without my prize. That were not seemly. All of you perceive That now my share of spoil has passed from me." To him the great Achilles, swift of foot, Replied: "Renowned Atrides, greediest Of men, where wilt thou that our noble Greeks Find other spoil for thee, since none is set Apart, a common store? The trophies brought From towns which we have sacked have all been shared Among us, and we could not without shame Bid every warrior bring his portion back. Yield, then, the maiden to the god, and we, The Achaians, freely will appoint for thee Threefold and fourfold recompense, when Jove Gives up to sack this well-defended Troy." Then the king Agamemnon answered thus:- "Nay, use no craft, all valiant as thou art, Godlike Achilles; thou hast not the power To circumvent nor to persuade me thus. Think'st thou that, while thou keepest safe thy prize, I shall sit idly down, deprived of mine? Thou bid'st me give the maiden back. 'Tis well, If to my hands the noble Greeks shall bring The worth of what I lose, and in a shape That pleases me. Else will I come myself, And seize and bear away thy prize, or that Of Ajax or Ulysses, leaving him From whom I take his share to rage at will. Another time we will confer of this. Now come, and forth into the great salt sea Launch a black ship, and muster on the deck Men skilled to row, and put a hecatomb On board, and let the fair-cheeked maid embark, Chryseis. Send a prince to bear command, — Ajax, Idomeneus, or the divine Ulysses; - or thyself, Pelides, thou Most terrible of men, that with due rites Thou soothe the anger of the archer-god." Achilles the swift-footed, with stern look, Thus answered: "Ha, thou mailed in impudence And bent on lucre! Who of all the Greeks Can willingly obey thee, on the march, Or bravely battling with the enemy? I came not to this war because of wrong Done to me by the valiant sons of Troy. No feud had I with them; they never took My beeves or horses, nor, in Phthia's realm, Deep-soiled and populous, spoiled my harvest fields. For many a shadowy mount between us lies, And waters of the wide-resounding sea. Man unabashed! we follow thee that thou Mayst glory in avenging upon Troy The grudge of Menelaus and thy own, Thou shameless one! and yet thou hast for this Nor thanks nor care. Thou threatenest now to take From me the prize for which I bore long toils In battle; and the Greeks decreed it mine. I never take an equal share with thee Of booty when the Grecian host has sacked Some populous Trojan town. My hands perform The harder labors of the field in all The tumult of the fight; but when the spoil Is shared, the largest share of all is thine, While I, content with little, seek my ships, Weary with combat. I shall now go home To Phthia; better were it to be there With my beaked ships; but here, where I am held In little honor, thou wilt fail, I think, To gather, in large measure, spoil and wealth." Him answered Agamemnon, king of men : "Desert, then, if thou wilt; I ask thee not To stay for me; there will be others left To do me honor yet, and, best of all, The all-providing Jove is with me still. Thee I detest the most of all the men Ordained by him to govern; thy delight Is in contention, war, and bloody frays. If thou art brave, some deity, no doubt, Hath thus endowed thee. Hence, then, to thy home, With all thy ships and men! there domineer Over thy Myrmidons; I heed thee not, Nor care I for thy fury. Thus, in turn, I threaten thee; since Phœbus takes away Chryseis, I will send her in my ship And with my friends, and, coming to thy tent, Will bear away the fair-cheeked maid, thy prize, Briseis, that thou learn how far I stand Above thee, and that other chiefs may fear To measure strength with me and brave my power." The rage of Peleus' son, as thus he spake, Grew fiercer; in that shaggy breast his heart Took counsel, whether from his thigh to draw The trenchant sword, and, thrusting back the rest, Smite down Atrides, or subdue his wrath And master his own spirit. While he thus Debated with himself, and half unsheathed The ponderous blade, Pallas Athene came, Sent from on high by Juno, the white-armed, Who loved both warriors and watched over both. Behind Pelides, where he stood, she came, And plucked his yellow hair. The hero turned In wonder, and at once he knew the look Of Pallas and the awful-gleaming eye, And thus accosted her with winged words:- "Why com'st thou hither, daughter of the god Who bears the ægis? Art thou here to see The insolence of Agamemnon, son Of Atreus? Let me tell thee what I deem Will be the event. That man may lose his life, And quickly too, for arrogance like this." Then thus the goddess, blue-eyed Pallas, spake:- "I came from heaven to pacify thy wrath, If thou wilt heed my counsel. I am sent By Juno the white-armed, to whom ye both Are dear, who ever watches o'er you both. Refrain from violence; let not thy hand Unsheathe the sword, but utter with thy tongue Reproaches, as occasion may arise, For I declare what time shall bring to pass; Threefold amends shall yet be offered thee, In gifts of princely cost, for this day's wrong. Now calm thy angry spirit, and obey." Achilles, the swift-footed, answered thus:- "O goddess, be the word thou bring'st obeyed, However just my anger; for to him Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear." So speaking, on the silver hilt he stayed His strong right hand, and back into its sheath Thrust his good sword, obeying. She, meantime, Returned to heaven, where ægis-bearing Jove Dwells with the other gods. And now again Pelides, with opprobrious words, bespake The son of Atreus, venting thus his wrath: — "Wine-bibber, with the forehead of a dog And a deer's heart! Thou never yet hast dared To arm thyself for battle with the rest, Nor join the other chiefs prepared to lie In ambush, such thy craven fear of death. Better it suits thee, midst the mighty host Of Greeks, to rob some warrior of his prize Who dares withstand thee. King thou art, and yet Devourer of thy people. Thou dost rule A spiritless race, else this day's insolence, Atrides, were thy last. And now I say, And bind my saying with a mighty oath: By this my sceptre, which can never bear A leaf or twig, since first it left its stem Among the mountains, - for the steel has pared Its boughs and bark away, to sprout no more, — And now the Achaian judges bear it, - they Who guard the laws received from Jupiter, — Such is my oath, - the time shall come when all The Greeks shall long to see Achilles back, While multitudes are perishing by the hand Of Hector, the man-queller; thou, meanwhile, Though thou lament, shalt have no power to help, And thou shalt rage against thyself to think That thou hast scorned the bravest of the Greeks." As thus he spake, Pelides to the ground Flung the gold-studded wand, and took his seat. Fiercely Atrides raged; but now uprose Nestor, the master of persuasive speech, The clear-toned Pylian orator, whose tongue Dropped words more sweet than honey. He had seen Two generations that grew up and lived With him on sacred Pylos pass away, And now he ruled the third. With prudent words He thus addressed the assembly of the chiefs :- "Ye gods! what new misfortunes threaten Greece! How Priam would exult and Priam's sons, And how would all the Trojan race rejoice, Were they to know how furiously ye strive, — Ye who in council and in fight surpass The other Greeks. Now hearken to my words, - Ye who are younger than myself, - for I Have lived with braver men than you, and yet They held me not in light esteem. Such men I never saw, nor shall I see again, — Men like Pirithoüs and like Druas, lord Of nations, Cæneus and Evadius, And the great Polypheme, and Theseus, son Of Ægeus, likest to the immortal gods. Strongest of all the earth-born race were they, And with the strongest of their time they fought, - With Centaurs, the wild dwellers of the hills, And fearfully destroyed them. With these men Did I hold converse, coming to their camp From Pylos in a distant land. They sent To bid me join the war, and by their side I fought my best, but no man living now On the wide earth would dare to fight with them. Great as they were, they listened to my words And took my counsel. Hearken also ye, And let my words persuade you for the best. Thou, powerful as thou art, take not from him The maiden; suffer him to keep the prize Decreed him by the sons of Greece; and thou, Pelides, strive no longer with the king, Since never yet did Jove to sceptred prince Grant eminence and honor like to his. Atrides, calm thine anger. It is I Who now implore thee to lay by thy wrath Against Achilles, who, in this fierce war, Is the great bulwark of the Grecian host." To him the sovereign Agamemnon said: - "The things which thou hast uttered, aged chief, Are fitly spoken; but this man would stand Above all others; he aspires to be The master, over all to domineer, And to direct in all things; yet, I think, There may be one who will not suffer this. For if by favor of the immortal gods He was made brave, have they for such a cause Given him the liberty of insolent speech?" Hereat the great Achilles, breaking in, Answered: "Yea, well might I deserve the name Of coward and of wretch, should I submit In all things to thy bidding. Such commands Lay thou on others, not on me; nor think I shall obey thee longer. This I say, - And bear it well in mind, - I shall not lift My hand to keep the maiden whom ye gave And now take from me; but whatever else May be on board that swift black ship of mine, Beware thou carry not away the least Without my leave. Come, make the trial now, That these may see thy black blood bathe my spear." Then, rising from that strife of words, the twain Dissolved the assembly at the Grecian fleet. Pelides to his tents and well-manned ships Went with Patroclus and his warrior friends, While Agamemnon bade upon the sea Launch a swift bark with twenty chosen men To ply the oar, and put a hecatomb Upon it for the god. He thither led The fair-cheeked maid Chryseis; the command He gave to wise Ulysses; forth they went, Leader and crew, upon their watery path. Meanwhile, he bade the camp be purified; And straight the warriors purified the camp, And, casting the pollutions to the waves, They burned to Phœbus chosen hecatombs Of bulls and goats beside the barren main, From which the savor rose in smoke to heaven. So was the host employed. But not the less Did Agamemnon persevere to urge His quarrel with Pelides; and he thus Addressed Talthybius and Eurybates, His heralds and his faithful ministers: - "Go ye to where Achilles holds his tent, And take the fair Briseis by the hand, And bring her hither. If he yield her not, I shall come forth to claim her with a band Of warriors, and it shall be worse for him." He spake, and sent them forth with added words Of menace. With unwilling steps they went Beside the barren deep, until they reached The tents and vessels of the Myrmidons, And found Achilles seated by his tent And his black ship; their coming pleased him not. They, moved by fear and reverence of the king, Stopped, and bespake him not, nor signified Their errand; he perceived their thought and said: - "Hail, heralds, messengers of Jove and men! Draw near; I blame you not. I only blame Atrides, who hath sent you for the maid. Noble Patroclus! bring the damsel forth, And let them lead her hence. My witnesses Are ye, before the blessed deities, And mortal men, and this remorseless king, If ever he shall need me to avert The doom of utter ruin from his host. Most sure it is, he madly yields himself To fatal counsels, thoughtless of the past And of the future, nor forecasting how The Greeks may fight, unvanquished, by their fleet." He spake. Meantime Patroclus had obeyed The word of his beloved friend. He brought The fair-cheeked maid Briseis from the tent, And she was led away. The messengers Returned to where their barks were moored, and she Unwillingly went with them, and in tears. Achilles, from his friends withdrawing, sat Beside the hoary ocean-marge, and gazed On the black deep beyond, and stretched his hands, And prayed to his dear mother, earnestly: - "Mother! since thou didst bring me forth to dwell Brief space on earth, Olympian Jupiter, Who thunders in the highest, should have filled That space with honors, but he grants them not. Wide-ruling Agamemnon takes and holds The prize I won, and thus dishonors me." Thus, shedding tears, he spake. His mother heard, Sitting within the ocean deeps, beside Her aged father. Swiftly from the waves Of the gray deep emerging like a cloud, She sat before him as he wept, and smoothed His brow with her soft hand, and kindly said: - "My child, why weepest thou? What grief is this? Speak, and hide nothing, so that both may know." Achilles, swift of foot, sighed heavily, And said: "Thou know'st already. Why relate These things to thee, who art apprised of all? "To Thebe, to Eëtion's sacred town, We marched, and plundered it, and hither brought The booty, which was fairly shared among The sons of Greece, and Agamemnon took The fair-cheeked maid Chryseis as his prize. But Chryses, priest of Phœbus, to the fleet Of the Achaian warriors, brazen-mailed, Came, to redeem his daughter, offering Ransom uncounted. In his hand he bore The fillets of Apollo, archer-god, Upon the golden sceptre, and he sued To all the Greeks, but chiefly to the sons Of Atreus, the two leaders of the host. Then all the other chiefs, applauding, bade Revere the priest and take the liberal gifts He offered; but the counsel did not please Atrides Agamemnon: he dismissed The priest with scorn, and added threatening words. The aged man indignantly withdrew; And Phœbus- for the priest was dear to him Granted his prayer and sent among the Greeks A deadly shaft. The people of the camp Were perishing in heaps. His arrows flew Among the Grecian army, far and wide. A seer expert in oracles revealed The will of Phœbus, and I was the first To counsel that the god should be appeased. But Agamemnon rose in sudden wrath, Uttering a threat, which he has since fulfilled. And now the dark-eyed Greeks are taking back His child to Chryses, and with her they bear Gifts to the monarch-god; while to my tent Heralds have come, and borne away the maid Briseis, given me by the sons of Greece. But succor thou thy son, if thou hast power; Ascend to heaven and bring thy prayer to Jove, If e'er by word or act thou gav'st him aid. For I remember, in my father's halls I often heard thee, glorying, tell how thou, Alone of all the gods, didst interpose To save the cloud-compeller, Saturn's son, From shameless overthrow, when all the rest Who dwell upon Olympus had conspired To bind him, - Juno, Neptune, and with them Pallas Athene. Thou didst come and loose His bonds, and call up to the Olympian heights The hundred-handed, whom the immortal gods Have named Briareus, but the sons of men Ægeon, mightier than his sire in strength; And he, rejoicing in the honor, took His seat by Jove, and all the immortals shrank Aghast before him, and let fall the chains. Remind him of all this, and, sitting down, Embrace his knees, and pray him to befriend The Trojans, that the Greeks, hemmed in and slain Beside their ships and by the shore, may learn To glory in their king, and even he, Wide-ruling Agamemnon, may perceive How grievous was his folly when he dared To treat with scorn the bravest of the Greeks." And Thetis answered, weeping as she spake : "Alas, my son, why did I rear thee, born To sorrow as thou wert? O would that thou Unwronged, and with no cause for tears, couldst dwell Beside thy ships, since thy brief term of life Must close so soon; but now thou art at once Short-lived and wronged beyond all other men. Yet will I climb the Olympian height among Its snows and make my suit to Jupiter The Thunderer, if haply he may yield To my entreaties. Thou, meanwhile, abide By thy swift ships, incensed against the Greeks, And take no part in all their battles more. But yesterday did Jove depart to hold A banquet far within the deep, among The blameless Ethiopians, and with him Went all the train of gods. Twelve days must pass Ere he return to heaven, and I will then Enter his brazen palace, clasp his knees, And hope to move his purpose by my prayers." So saying, she departed, leaving him In anger for the shapely damsel's sake, Whom forcibly they took away. Meantime Ulysses, with the sacred hecatomb, Arrived at Chrysa. Entering the deep port, They folded up the sails and laid them down In the black ship, and lowering the mast, With all its shrouds, they brought it to its place. Then to the shore they urged the bark with oars, And cast the anchors and secured the prow With fastenings. Next, they disembarked and stood Upon the beach and placed the hecatomb In sight of Phœbus, the great archer. Last, Chryseis left the deck, and, leading her Up to the altar, wise Ulysses gave The maid to her dear father, speaking thus:- "O Chryses! Agamemnon, king of men, Sends me in haste to bring this maid to thee And offer up this hallowed hecatomb To Phœbus, for the Greeks; that so the god, Whose wrath afflicts us sore, may be appeased." So speaking, to her father's hands he gave The maiden; joyfully the priest received The child he loved. Then did the Greeks array The noble hecatomb in order round The sculptured altar, and with washen hands They took the salted meal, while Chryses stood And spread abroad his hands and prayed aloud : - "Hear me, thou bearer of the glittering bow, Who guardest Chrysa and the pleasant isle Of Cilla and art lord in Tenedos! Already hast thou listened to my prayer And honored me, and terribly hast scourged The Achaian people. Hear me yet again, And cause the plague that wastes the Greeks to cease." So spake he, supplicating, and to him Phœbus Apollo hearkened. When the prayers Were ended, and the salted meal was flung, Backward they turned the necks of the fat beeves, And cut their throats, and flayed the carcasses, And hewed away the thighs, and covered them With caul in double folds; and over this They laid raw fragments of the other parts. O'er all the aged priest poured dark red wine, And burned them on dry wood. A band of youths With five-pronged spits, beside him, thrust these through The entrails, which they laid among the flames. And when the thighs were all consumed, and next The entrails tasted, all the rest was carved Into small portions and transfixed with spits And roasted with nice care and then withdrawn From the hot coals. This task performed, they made The banquet ready. All became its guests And all were welcome to the equal feast. And when their thirst and hunger were allayed, Boys crowned the ample urns with wreaths, and served The wine to all, and poured libations forth. Meantime the Argive youths, that whole day long, Sang to appease the god; they chanted forth High anthems to the archer of the skies. He listened to the strain, and his stern mood Was softened. When, at length, the sun went down And darkness fell, they gave themselves to sleep Beside the fastenings of their ships, and when Appeared the rosy-fingered Dawn, the child Of Morning, they returned to the great host Of the Achaians. Phœbus deigned to send A favoring breeze; at once they reared the mast And opened the white sails; the canvas swelled Before the wind, and hoarsely round the keel The dark waves murmured as the ship flew on. So ran she, cutting through the sea her way. But when they reached the great Achaian host, They drew their vessel high upon the shore Among the sands, and underneath its sides They laid long beams to prop the keel, and straight Dispersed themselves among the tents and ships. The goddess-born Achilles, swift of foot, Beside his ships still brooded o'er his wrath, Nor came to council with the illustrious chiefs, Nor to the war, but suffered idleness To eat his heart away; for well he loved Clamor and combat. But when now, at length, The twelfth day came, the ever-living gods Returned together to the Olympian mount With Jove, their leader. Thetis kept in mind Her son's desire, and, with the early morn, Climbed the great heaven and the high mount, and found All-seeing Jove, who, from the rest apart, Was seated on the loftiest pinnacle Of many-peaked Olympus. She sat down Before the son of Saturn, clasped his knees With her left arm, and lifted up her right In supplication to the Sovereign One: - "O Jupiter, my father, if among The immortals I have ever given thee aid By word or act, deny not my request. Honor my son, whose life is doomed to end So soon; for Agamemnon, king of men, Hath done him shameful wrong: he takes from him And keeps the prize he won in war. But thou, Olympian Jupiter, supremely wise, Honor him thou, and give the Trojan host The victory, until the humbled Greeks Heap large increase of honors on my son." She spake, but cloud-compelling Jupiter Answered her not; in silence long he sat. But Thetis, who had clasped his knees at first, Clung to them still, and prayed him yet again : - "O promise me, and grant my suit; or else Deny it, for thou need'st not fear, and I Shall know how far below the other gods Thou holdest me in honor." As she spake, The Cloud-compeller, sighing heavily, Answered her thus: "Hard things dost thou require, And thou wilt force me into new disputes With Juno, who will anger me again With contumelious words; for ever thus, In presence of the immortals, doth she seek Cause of contention, charging that I aid The Trojans in their battles. Now depart, And let her not perceive thee. And that thou Mayst be assured, behold, I give the nod; For this, with me, the immortals know, portends The highest certainty: no word of mine Which once my nod confirms can be revoked, Or prove untrue, or fail to be fulfilled." As thus he spake, the son of Saturn gave The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls Upon the Sovereign One's immortal head Were shaken, and with them the mighty mount Olympus trembled. Then they parted, she Plunging from bright Olympus to the deep, And Jove returning to his palace home; Where all the gods, uprising from their thrones, At sight of the Great Father, waited not For his approach, but met him as he came. And now upon his throne the Godhead took His seat, but Juno knew - for she had seen - That Thetis of the silver feet, and child Of the gray Ancient of the Deep, had held Close council with her consort. Therefore she Bespake the son of Saturn harshly, thus: "O crafty one, with whom, among the gods, Plottest thou now? Thus hath it ever been Thy pleasure to devise, apart from me, Thy plans in secret; never willingly Dost thou reveal to me thy purposes." Then thus replied the Father of the gods And mortals: "Juno, do not think to know All my designs, for thou wilt find the task Too hard for thee, although thou be my spouse. What fitting is to be revealed, no one Of all the immortals or of men shall know Sooner than thou; but when I form designs Apart from all the gods, presume thou not To question me or pry into my plans." Juno, the large-eyed and august, rejoined: - "What words, stern son of Saturn, hast thou said! It never was my wont to question thee Or pry into thy plans, and thou art left To form them as thou wilt; yet now I fear The silver-footed Thetis has contrived - That daughter of the Ancient of the Deep- To o'erpersuade thee, for, at early prime, She sat before thee and embraced thy knees; And thou hast promised her, I cannot doubt, To give Achilles honor and to cause Myriads of Greeks to perish by their fleet." Then Jove, the cloud-compeller, spake again:- "Harsh-tongued! thou ever dost suspect me thus, Nor can I act unwatched; and yet all this Profits thee nothing, for it only serves To breed dislike, and is the worse for thee. But were it as thou deemest, 'tis enough That such has been my pleasure. Sit thou down In silence, and obey, lest all the gods Upon Olympus, when I come and lay These potent hands on thee, protect thee not." He spake, and Juno, large-eyed and august, O'erawed, and curbing her high spirit, sat In silence; meanwhile all the gods of heaven Within the halls of Jove were inly grieved. But Vulcan, the renowned artificer, Sought to console his mother in her grief, - The white-armed Juno, - and thus interposed : - "Great will the evil be and hard to bear, If, for the sake of mortals, ye are moved To such contention and the assembled gods Disturbed with discord. Even the pleasant feast Will lose its flavor when embittered thus. And let me warn my mother while I speak, Wise as she is, that she defer to Jove, Lest the All-Father angrily again Reply, and spoil the banquet of the day. The Thunderer of Olympus, if he choose To make a wreck of all things, wields a power Far greater than we all. Accost him thou With gentle speeches, and the Lord of heaven Will then regard us in a kindly mood." As thus he spake, he gave into the hands Of his beloved mother the round cup Of double form, and thus he spake again : - "Mother, be patient and submit, although In sadness, lest these eyes behold thee yet Beaten with stripes, and though I hold thee dear And grieve for thee, I cannot bring thee help; For hard it is to strive with Jupiter. Already once, when I took part with thee, He seized me by the foot and flung me o'er The battlements of heaven. All day I fell, And with the setting sun I struck the earth In Lemnos. Little life was left in me, What time the Sintians took me from the ground." He spake, and Juno, the white-shouldered, smiled, And smiling took the cup her son had brought; And next he poured to all the other gods Sweet nectar from the jar, beginning first With those at the right hand. As they beheld Vulcan a cup-bearer in those bright halls, An inextinguishable laughter broke From all the blessed gods. So feasted they All day till sunset. From that equal feast None stood aloof, nor from the pleasant sound Of harp, which Phœbus touched, nor from the voice Of Muses singing sweetly in their turn. But when the sun's all-glorious light was down, Each to his sleeping-place betook himself; For Vulcan, the lame god, with marvellous art, Had framed for each the chamber of his rest. And Jupiter, the Olympian Thunderer, Went also to his couch, where 't was his wont, When slumber overtook him, to recline. And there, beside him, slept the white-armed queen Juno, the mistress of the golden throne.
BOOK II. ALL other deities, all mortal men, Tamers of war-steeds, slept the whole night through; But no sweet slumber came to Jove; his thoughts Were ever busy with the anxious care To crown with honor Peleus' son, and cause Myriads to perish at the Grecian fleet. At last, this counsel seemed the best, - to send A treacherous dream to Agamemnon, son Of Atreus. Then he called a Dream, and thus Addressing it with winged words, he said: - "Go, fatal Vision, to the Grecian fleet, And, entering Agamemnon's tent, declare Faithfully what I bid thee. Give command That now he arm, with all the array of war, The long-haired Greeks, for lo, the hour is come That gives into his hands the city of Troy With all its spacious streets. The powers who dwell In the celestial mansions are no more At variance; Juno's prayers have moved them all, And o'er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom." So spake the God; the Vision heard, and went At once to where the Grecian barks were moored, And entered Agamemnon's tent and found The king reposing, with the balm of sleep Poured all around him. At his head the Dream Took station in the form of Neleus' son, Nestor, whom Agamemnon honored most Of all the aged men. In such a shape The heaven-sent Dream to Agamemnon spake:- “Ο warrior-son of Atreus, sleepest thou? Tamer of steeds! It ill becomes a chief, Who has the charge of nations and sustains Such mighty cares, to sleep the livelong night. Give earnest heed to me, for I am come A messenger from Jove, who, though far off, Takes part in thy concerns and pities thee. He bids thee arm, with all the array of war, The long-haired Greeks, for now the hour is come Which gives into thy hands the city of Troy With all its spacious streets. The powers that dwell In the celestial mansions are no more At variance; Juno's prayers have moved them all, And o'er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom, Decreed by Jove. Bear what I say in mind, And when thy sleep departs forget it not." He spake, and, disappearing, left the king Musing on things that never were to be; For on that very day he thought to take The city of Priam. Fool! who little knew What Jupiter designed should come to pass, And little thought by his own act to bring Great woe and grief on Greeks and Trojans both In hard-fought battles. From his sleep he woke, The heavenly voice still sounding in his ears, And sat upright, and put his tunic on, Soft, fair, and new, and over that he cast His ample cloak, and round his shapely féet Laced the becoming sandals. Next, he hung Upon his shoulders and his side the sword With silver studs, and took into his hand The ancestral sceptre, old, but undecayed, And with it turned his footsteps toward the fleet Of the Achaian warriors brazen-mailed. Now Dawn, the goddess, climbed the Olympian height, Foretelling Day to Jupiter and all The immortal gods, when Agamemnon bade The shrill-voiced heralds call the long-haired Greeks Together; they proclaimed his will, and straight The warriors came in throngs. But first he bade A council of large-minded elders meet On Pylian Nestor's royal bark, and there Laid his well-pondered thought before them thus: "My friends, give ear: a Vision from above Came to me sleeping in the balmy night; Most like to noble Nestor was its look, — Its face, its stature, and its garb. It stood Beside me at my head, and thus it spake : - ""Ο warrior-son of Atreus, sleepest thou? Tamer of steeds! It ill becomes a chief, Who has the charge of nations and sustains Such mighty cares, to sleep the livelong night. Give earnest heed to me, for I am come A messenger from Jove, who, though far off, Takes part in thy concerns and pities thee. He bids thee arm, with all the array of war, The long-haired Greeks, for now the hour is come Which gives into thy hands the city of Troy With all its spacious streets. The powers who dwell In the celestial mansions are no more At variance; Juno's prayers have moved them all, And o'er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom, Decreed by Jove. Bear what I say in mind.' "It spake and passed away, and with it fled My slumbers. Now must we devise a way To bring into the field the sons of Greece. I first will try, as best I may, with words, And counsel flight from Troy with all our ships. Ye each, with different counsels, do your part." He spake, and took his seat, and after him Nestor, the king of sandy Pylus, rose, With well-considered words. “O friends," he said, "Leaders and princes of the Grecian race, Had any other of the Argive host Related such a dream, we should have said The tale is false, and spurned the counsel given. But he has seen it who in rank and power Transcends us all, and ours it is to see How we may arm for war the sons of Greece.' He spake, and left the council, and the rest, All sceptred kings, arose, prepared to obey The shepherd of the people. All the Greeks Meanwhile came thronging to the appointed place. As, swarming forth from cells within the rock, Coming and coming still, the tribe of bees Fly in a cluster o'er the flowers of spring, And some are darting out to right and left, So from the ships and tents a multitude Along the spacious beach, in mighty throngs, Moved toward the assembly. Rumor went with them, The messenger of Jove, and urged them on. And now, when they were met, the place was stunned With clamor; earth, as the great crowd sat down, Groaned under them; a din of mingled cries Arose; nine shouting heralds strove to hush The noisy crowd to silence, that at length The heaven-descended monarchs might be heard. And when the crowd was seated and had paused From clamor, Agamemnon rose. He held The sceptre; Vulcan's skill had fashioned it, And Jove bestowed it on his messenger, The Argos-queller Hermes. He in turn Gave it to Pelops, great in horsemanship; And Pelops passed the gift to Atreus, The people's shepherd. Atreus, when he died, Bequeathed it to Thyestes, rich in flocks; And last, Thyestes left it to be borne By Agamemnon, symbol of his rule O'er many isles and all the Argive realm. Leaning on this, he spake these winged words : - "Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars, Saturnian Jove hath in an evil net Entangled me most cruelly. He gave His promise and his nod, that, having razed Troy with her strong defences, I should see My home again; but now he meditates To wrong me, and commands me to return, With lessened glory and much people lost, To Argos. Thus hath it seemed good to Jove The mighty, who hath overthrown the towers Of many a city, and will yet o'erthrow. The ages yet to come will hear with shame That such a mighty army of the Greeks Have waged a fruitless war, and fought in vain Against large odds; and yet no end appears To this long strife. Should Greeks and Trojans make A treaty, faithfully to number each, And should the Trojans count their citizens, And we the Greeks, disposed in rows of tens, Should call the Trojans singly to pour out The wine for us, full many a company Of ten would lack its cup-bearer; so far, I judge, the sons of Greece outnumber those Who dwell in Troy. But they have yet allies From many a city, men who wield the spear, Withstanding my attempt to overthrow That populous town. Nine years of mighty Jove Have passed already, and the planks that form Our barks are mouldering, and the cables drop In pieces, and our wives within their homes, With their young children, sit expecting us; Yet is the enterprise for which we came Still unperformed. Now let us all obey The mandate I reveal, and hasten hence, With all our fleet, to our beloved homes; For Troy with her broad streets we cannot take." He spake, and in the bosoms of the crowd Stirred every heart; even those who heard him not Were moved: the assembly wavered to and fro Like the long billows of the Icarian Sea, Roused by the East wind and the South, that rush Forth from the cloudy seat of Father Jove; Or like the harvest-field, when west winds stoop Suddenly from above, and toss the wheat. So was the whole assembly swayed; they ran With tumult to the ships; beneath their feet Rose clouds of dust, and each exhorted each To seize the ships and drag them to the deep. They cleared the decks amid the clamorous cries Of multitudes, who hastened to return, And drew the props from underneath their barks. Then had the Greeks returned before their time If Juno had not to Minerva said: - "Unconquerable child of Jove! What change Is this? Shall then the Argive army thus Flee to their homes across the deep and leave Glory to Priam, and to Ilium's sons The Argive Helen, for whose sake have died So many Greeks upon the Trojan strand, Far from the land they loved? But hasten thou To the host of Argive warriors mailed in brass, And with persuasive words restrain their men. Nor let them launch their barks upon the sea." She spake; nor did the blue-eyed Pallas fail To heed the mandate, but with quick descent She left the Olympian height and suddenly Stood by the swift ships of the Grecian host. She found Ulysses there, the man endowed With wisdom like to Jove's; he had not touched His well-appointed bark, for grief had seized The hero's heart. The blue-eyed goddess took Her place beside him, and addressed him thus: - "Son of Laertes, nobly born and sage Ulysses, will ye, entering your good ships, Return in flight to your own land and leave Glory to Priam, and to Ilium's sons The Argive Helen, for whose sake have died So many Greeks upon the Trojan strand, Far from the land they loved? Go thou at once And seek the Argive warriors and restrain With thy persuasive words the impatient men, Nor let them launch their well-appointed ships." She spake; Ulysses knew the heavenly voice, And hastened back, and as he ran cast by His cloak. Eurybates of Ithaca, The herald, caught it up, and followed him. And now before Atrides, king of men, The warrior stood, and from his hand received The ancestral sceptre, old, but undecayed; And bearing this, he went among the ships Which brought the Achaian army, mailed in brass;. And whomsoe'er he met upon his way, Monarch or eminent among the host, He stopped him, and addressed him blandly, thus: - "Good friend, this eager haste as if from fear Befits thee not. Sit down, and cause the rest To sit. What Agamemnon's will may be Thou canst not yet be certain; he intends To try the Greeks, and soon will punish those Who act amiss. We cannot all have heard What he has said; beware, then, lest his wrath Fall heavily upon the sons of Greece. The monarch, foster-child of Jupiter, Is terrible in anger. Honor comes From Jove, all-wise, and well he loves the king." But when he found one of the lower sort Shouting and brawling, with the royal wand He smote him, and reproved him sharply, thus:- "Friend, take thy seat in quiet, and attend To what thy betters say; thou art not strong Nor valiant, and thou art of mean repute In combat and in council. We, the Greeks, Cannot be all supreme in power. The rule Of the many is not well. One must be chief In war, and one the king, to whom the son Of Saturn gives the sceptre, making him The lawgiver, that he may rule the rest." Thus did he act the chief, and make the host Obey his word; they to the council ground Came rushing back from all the ships and tents With tumult, as, on the long-stretching shore Of ocean many-voiced, his billows fling Themselves in fury, and the deep resounds. All others took their seats and kept their place; Thersites only, clamorous of tongue, Kept brawling. He, with many insolent words, Was wont to seek unseemly strife with kings, Uttering whate'er it seemed to him might move The Greeks to laughter. Of the multitude Who came to Ilium, none so base as he, — Squint-eyed, with one lame foot, and on his back A lump, and shoulders curving towards the chest; His head was sharp, and over it the hairs Were thinly strewn. He hated most of all Achilles and Ulysses, and would oft Revile them. He to Agamemnon now Called with shrill voice and taunting words. The Greeks Heard him impatiently, with strong disgust And vehement anger, yet he shouted still To Agamemnon, and kept railing on : - "Of what dost thou complain; what wouldst thou more, Atrides? In thy tents are heaps of gold; Thy tents are full of chosen damsels, given To thee before all others, by the Greeks, Whene'er we take a city. Dost thou yet Hanker for gold, brought by some Trojan knight, A ransom for his son, whom I shall lead - I, or some other Greek - a captive bound? Or dost thou wish, for thy more idle hours, Some maiden, whom thou mayst detain apart? Ill it beseems a prince like thee to lead The sons of Greece, for such a cause as this, Into new perils. O ye coward race! Ye abject Greeklings, Greeks no longer, haste Homeward with all the fleet, and let us leave This man at Troy to win his trophies here, That he may learn whether the aid we give Avails him aught or not, since he insults Achilles, a far braver man than he; And yet, Achilles is not moved by this To anger: he is spiritless, or else, Atrides, this injustice were thy last." Taunting the shepherd of the people thus, Thersites shouted to the king of men. But great Ulysses, coming quickly up, Rebuked him with a frown: "Thou garrulous wretch! Glib as thou art of tongue, Thersites, cease, Nor singly dare to seek dispute with kings; For well I deem no viler wretch than thou Came with Atrides to the siege of Troy. What may be done we see not clearly yet, Nor whether it were better to withdraw Or to remain. Thou heapest, without stint, Reproaches on the shepherd of the host, Atrides Agamemnon, for thou seest The Grecian heroes blame him, and thy speech Yet more inflames them, with its scurrilous words. I tell thee now, - and I shall keep my word, — If e'er again I find thee railing on, As now thou dost, then let Ulysses wear His head no longer, let me not be called The father of Telemachus, if I Shall fail to seize thee, and to strip thee bare Of cloak and tunic, and whatever else Covers thy carcass, and to send thee forth, Howling, to our swift barks upon the shore, Scourged from the council with a storm of blows." He spake, and with his sceptre smote the back And shoulders of the scoffer, who crouched low And shed a shower of tears. A bloody whelk Rose where the golden sceptre fell. He took His seat, dismayed, and still in pain wiped off The tears from his smutched face. The multitude Around him, though in anxious mood, were moved To smiles, and one addressed his neighbor thus: "Strange that Ulysses does a thousand things So well, so wise in council, and in war So brave; and for the Grecian army now He does the best of all, in silencing The chatter of this saucy slanderer, Whose acrid temper will not soon again Move him to rail with insolent speech at kings." So talked the multitude. Ulysses then, Holding the sceptre, rose, and by his side The blue-eyed Pallas, in a herald's form, Commanded silence, that the Argive host - The mightiest and the meanest - might attend To what should now be said, and calmly weigh The counsel given them. With a prudent art Ulysses framed his speech, and thus he spake: — "The Greeks, O Atreus' son, would bring on thee Dishonor in the eyes and speech of men, Breaking the promise made when first they came From Argos, famed for steeds, that, having spoiled This well-defended Troy, thou shouldst return A conqueror. And now, like tender boys Or widowed women, all give way to grief And languish to return. 'T were hard to bear If, after all our sufferings and our toils, We go back foiled. And yet, whoe'er remains A single month away from wife and home Chafes if the winter storms and angry sea Detain him still on board his well-oared bark; And we have seen the ninth full year roll round Since we came hither. Therefore blame I not The Greeks if they in their beaked ships repine At this delay. But then it were disgrace To linger here so long and journey home With empty hands. Bear with us yet, and wait Till it be certain whether Calchas spake Truly or not. For we remember well, And all of you whom cruel death has spared Are witnesses with me, that when the ships Of Greece-it seems as if but yesterday - Mustered in Aulis on their way to bring Woe upon Priam and the town of Troy, And we, beside a fountain, offered up On sacred altars chosen hecatombs, Under a shapely plane-tree, from whose root Flowed the clear water, there appeared to us A wondrous sign. A frightful serpent, marked With crimson spots, which Jupiter sent forth To daylight from beneath the altar-stone, Came swiftly gliding toward the tree, whereon A sparrow had her young-eight unfledged birds- Upon the topmost bough and screened by leaves; The mother was the ninth. The serpent seized The helpless brood and midst their piteous cries Devoured them, while the mother fluttered round, Lamenting, till he caught her by the wing; And when he had destroyed the parent bird And all her brood, the god who sent him forth Made him a greater marvel still. The son Of crafty Saturn changed the snake to stone; And we who stood around were sore amazed. Such was the awful portent which the gods Showed at that sacrifice. But Calchas thus Instantly spake, interpreting the sign: - ""O long-haired Greeks,' he said, 'why stand ye thus In silence? All-foreseeing Jupiter Hath sent this mighty omen; late it comes And late will be fulfilled, yet gloriously, And with a fame that never shall decay. For as the snake devoured the sparrow's brood, Eight nestlings, and the mother-bird the ninth, - So many years the war shall last; the tenth Shall give into our hands the stately Troy.' "So spake the seer; thus far his words are true. Bide ye then here, ye well-greaved sons of Greece, Until the city of Priam shall be ours." He spake, and loud applause thereon ensued From all the Greeks, and fearfully the ships Rang with the clamorous voices uttering The praises of Ulysses and his words. Then Nestor, the Gerenian knight, arose And thus addressed them: “Strangely ye behave, Like boys unwonted to the tasks of war. Where now are all your promises and oaths? Shall all our councillings and all our cares, Leagues made with wine, religiously outpoured, And plightings of the strong right hand, be cast Into the flames? Idly we keep alive A strife of words, which serves no end though long We loiter here! But thou, Atrides, firm Of purpose, give command that now the Greeks Move to the war, and leave to meet their fate Those-one or more-who, parting from our host, Meditate - but I deem in vain - to flee Homeward to Argos ere they are assured Whether the word of Jove omnipotent Be false or true. For when the Greeks embarked In their swift ships, to carry death and fate To Ilium's sons, almighty Jupiter Flung down his lightnings on the right and gave Propitious omens. Therefore let no Greek Go home till he possess a Trojan wife And ye have signally avenged the wrongs And griefs of Helen. Yet, if one be here Who longs to go, let him but lay his hand On his black ship, prepared to cross the deep, And he shall die before the rest. But thou, O king, be wisely counselled, lend an ear To others, nor neglect what I propose. Marshal the Greeks by tribes and brotherhoods, That tribe may stand by tribe, and brotherhoods Succor each other; so shalt thou discern What chief or soldier bears a valiant heart, And who are dastards; thou shalt see them fight According to their valor, and shalt know Whether through favor of the gods to Troy, Or our own cowardice and shameful lack Of skill in war, the town is not o'erthrown." In turn the monarch Agamemnon spake: - "O aged warrior, thou excellest all The Greeks in council. Would to Jupiter, To Pallas and Apollo, that with me There were but ten such comrades. Priam's town Would quickly fall before us and be made A desolation. But the god who bears The ægis, Saturn's son, hath cast on me Much grief, entangling me in idle strifes And angry broils. Achilles and myself Have quarrelled for a maid with bitter words, And I was first incensed. But if again We meet and act as friends, the overthrow That threatens Ilium will not be delayed, - Not for an hour. Now all to your repast! And then prepare for battle. First let each See that his spear be sharp, and put his shield In order, give to his swift-footed steeds Their ample forage, and o'erlook his car That it be strong for war; for all the day Shall we maintain the stubborn fight, nor cease Even for a moment, till the night come down To part the wrathful combatants. The band Of each broad buckler shall be moist with sweat On every breast, and weary every arm That wields the spear, and every horse that drags The polished chariot o'er the field shall smoke With sweat. But whosoever shall be found By the beaked ships and skulking from the fray Shall be the feast of birds of prey and dogs!” He spake; the Argives raised a mighty shout, Loud as when billows lash the beetling shore, Rolled by the south wind toward some jutting rock On which the waves, whatever wind may blow, Beat ceaselessly. In haste the people rose And went among the ships, and kindled fires Within their tents and took their meal. And one Made offerings to one god; another paid Vows to another of the immortal race; And all implored deliverance from death And danger. Agamemnon, king of men, Offered a fatted ox of five years old To Jupiter Almighty, summoning The elder princes of the Grecian host, - Nestor the first, the king Idomeneus, And then the warriors Ajax and the son Of Tydeus, with Ulysses, like to Jove In council, sixth and last. Unbidden came The valiant Menelaus, for he knew The cares that weighed upon his brother's heart. Then, as they stood around the fatted ox And took in hand the salted barley-meal, King Agamemnon in the circle prayed:- "O Jove, most great and glorious! who dost rule The tempest, - dweller of the ethereal space! Let not the sun go down and night come on Ere I shall lay the halls of Priam waste With fire, and give their portals to the flames, And hew away the coat of mail that shields The breast of Hector, splitting it with steel. And may his fellow-warriors, many a one, Fall round him to the earth and bite the dust. He spake; the son of Saturn hearkened not, But took the sacrifice and made more hard The toils of war. And now when they had prayed, And strown the salted meal, they drew the neck Of the victim back and cut the throat and flayed The carcass, hewed away the thighs and laid The fat upon them in a double fold, On which they placed raw strips of flesh, and these They burned with leafless billets. Then they fixed The entrails on the spits and held them forth Above the flames, and when the thighs were burned And entrails tasted, all the rest was carved Into small portions and transfixed with spits And roasted carefully and drawn away. And when these tasks were finished and the board Was spread, they feasted; from that equal feast None went unsated. When they had appeased Their thirst and hunger, the Gerenian knight Nestor stood forth and spake: "Most glorious son Of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men! Waste we no time in prattle, nor delay The work appointed by the gods, but send The heralds of the Achaians, brazen-mailed, To call the people to the fleet, while we Pass in a body through their vast array And wake the martial spirit in their breasts." He spake, and Agamemnon, king of men, Followed the counsel. Instantly he bade The loud-voiced herald summon to the war The long-haired Argives. At the call they came, Quickly they came together, and the kings, Nurslings of Jupiter, who stood beside Atrides, hastened through the crowd to form The army into ranks. Among them walked The blue-eyed Pallas, bearing on her arm The priceless ægis, ever fair and new, And undecaying; from its edge there hung A hundred golden fringes, fairly wrought, And every fringe might buy a hecatomb. With this and fierce, defiant looks she passed Through all the Achaian host, and made their hearts Impatient for the march and strong to endure The combat without pause, - for now the war Seemed to them dearer than the wished return, In their good galleys, to the land they loved. As when a forest on the mountain-top Is in a blaze with the devouring flame And shines afar, so, while the warriors marched, The brightness of their burnished weapons flashed On every side and upward to the sky. And as when water-fowl of many tribes - Geese, cranes, and long-necked swans - disport themselves In Asia's fields beside Caÿster's streams, And to and fro they fly with screams, and light, Flock after flock, and all the fields resound; Or as when flies in swarming myriads haunt The herdsman's stalls in spring-time, when new milk Has filled the pails, - in such vast multitudes Mustered the long-haired Greeks upon the plain, Impatient to destroy the Trojan race. Then, as the goatherds, when their mingled flocks Are in the pastures, know and set apart Each his own scattered charge, so did the chiefs, Moving among them, marshal each his men. There walked King Agamemnon, like to Jove In eye and forehead, with the loins of Mars, And ample chest like him who rules the sea. And as a bull amid the horned herd Stands eminent and nobler than the rest, So Jove to Agamemnon on that day Gave to surpass the chiefs in port and mien. O Muses, goddesses who dwell on high, Tell me, for all things ye behold and know, While we know nothing and may only hear The random tales of rumor, - tell me who Were chiefs and princes of the Greeks; for I Should fail to number and to name them all, - Had I ten tongues, ten throats, a voice unapt To weary, uttered from a heart of brass, - Unless the Muses aided me. I now Will sing of the commanders and the ships. Peneleus, Prothoënor, Leïtus, And Clonius, and Arcesilaus led The warriors of Bœotia, all who dwelt In Hyria and in rocky Aulis, all From Schænus and from Scolus and the hill Of Eteonus and Thespeia's fields, And Graia and the Mycalesian plain, All who from Herma and Ilesius came, And Erythræ, and those who had their homes In Eleon, Hyla, and Ocalea, And Peteona, and the stately streets Of Medeon, Copæ, Thisbe full of doves, And those whose dwelling-place was Eutresis, And Coronæa, and the grassy lawns Of Haliartus, all the men who held Platæa, or in Glissa tilled the soil, Or dwelt in Hypothebæ nobly built, Or in Onchestus with its temple-walls Sacred to Neptune, or inhabited Arne with fruitful vineyards, Midea And Nyssa the divine, and Anthedon The distant, - fifty were their barks, and each Held sixscore youths of the Bœotian race. Next, over those who came from Aspledon And from Orchomenus in Minyas Ascalaphus ruled with his brother chief Ialmenus, - two sons of mighty Mars. These, in the halls of Actor, Azis' son, Astyoche bore to the god of war, Who met by stealth the bashful maid, as once She went upon the palace-roof. Their ships Were thirty, ranged in order on the shore. Then Schedius and Epistrophus, two chiefs Born to Iphitus, son of Naubolus The large of soul, led the Phocean host, Those who in Cyparissus had their homes, In Panope and Crissa the divine And Daulis, or about Hyampolis Anemoreia, and upon the banks Of broad Cephissus, and with them the race Who held Lilæa by Cephissus' springs. With these came forty ships. Their leaders went Among them, ranging them in due array And close to the Bœotians on the left. Ajax the swift of foot, Oileus' son, Was leader of the Locrians, - less in limb And stature than the other Ajax, — nay, Much smaller than that son of Telamon, Wearing a linen corslet; but to wield The spear he far excelled all other men Of Hellas and Achaia. Those who dwelt In Cynus, Opus, Bessa, and the fields Of Calliarus, Scarpha, and the green Augeia, Tarpha, and the meadows where Boagrius waters Thronium, followed him With forty dark-hulled Locrian barks, that came From coasts beyond Eubea's sacred isle. The Eubeans breathing valor, they who held Chalcis, Eretria, and the vineyard slopes Of Histiæa, and the lofty walls Of Dium and Cerinthus by the sea, And Styra, had Elphenor for their chief, A warrior of the line of Mars, and son Of Chalcodon large-souled, a prince who ruled The Abantes. Him with loosely-flowing locks The Abantes followed, swift of foot and fierce In combat, and expert to break the mail Upon the enemies' breasts with ashen spears; With forty dark-hulled barks they followed him. Next they who came from Athens nobly built, The city of Erechtheus, great of soul, Son of the teeming Earth, whom Pallas reared, That daughter of the Highest, and within Her sumptuous temple placed him, where the sons Of Athens, with the circling year's return, Worshipped the goddess, bringing bulls and lambs To lay upon her altars; these obeyed Menestheus, son of Peteus, whom no chief On earth could equal in the art to place Squadrons of men and horse in due array For battle. Nestor only sought to share This praise, but Nestor was the elder chief. Fifty dark galleys with Menestheus came. Ajax had brought twelve ships from Salamis, And these he stationed near the Athenian host. But they who dwelt in Argos, or within The strong-walled Tiryns, or Hermione And Asine with their deep, sheltering bays, Træzene and Eïonæ, and hills Of Epidaurus planted o'er with vines, And they who tilled Ægina and the coast Of Mases, - Grecian warriors, - over these Brave Diomed bore sway, with Sthenelus, Beloved son of far-famed Capaneus, And, third in rule, Euryalus, who seemed Like to a god, Mecisteus' royal son Who sprung from Talaus; yet the chief command Was given to Diomed, the great in war. A fleet of eighty galleys came with them. The dwellers of Mycenæ nobly built, Of Corinth famed for riches, and the town Of beautiful Cleonæ, they who tilled Orneia, Aræthyrea's pleasant land, And Sicyon, where of yore Adrastus reigned, And Hyperesia and the airy heights Of Gonoessa, and Pellene's fields, And they who came from Ægium and the shores Around it, and broad lands of Helicé, - These had a hundred barks, and over them Atrides Agamemnon bore command; And with him came the largest train of troops And bravest. He was cased in gleaming mail, And his heart gloried when he thought how high He stood among the heroes, - mightier far In power, and leader of a mightier host. Then they who dwelt within the hollow vale Of queenly Lacedæmon, they who held Phare and Sparta, Messa full of doves, Bryseiæ, and Augeia's rich domain, Amycle and the town of Helos, built Close to the sea, and those who had their homes In Laäs and the fields of Etylus; All these obeyed the brother of the king, The valiant Menelaus. Sixty ships They brought, but these he ranged apart from those Of Agamemnon. Through the ranks he went, And, trusting in his valor, quickened theirs For battle; for his heart within him burned To avenge the wrongs of Helen and her tears. Then came the men who tilled the Pylean coast And sweet Arené, Thrya at the fords Of Alpheus, and the stately palace homes Of Æpy, or in Cyparissus dwelt, Or in Amphigeneia, Pteleum, Helos and Dorium, where the Muses, once Meeting the Thracian Thamyris, who came From Eurytus the Echalian, took from him His power of voice. For he had made his boast To overcome in song the daughters nine Of Jove the Ægis-bearer. They in wrath Smote him with blindness, took the heavenly gift Of song away, and made his hand forget Its cunning with the harp. All those were led By Nestor, the Gerenian knight, who came To war on Troy with fourscore ships and ten. The Arcadians, dwelling by the lofty mount Cyllene, near the tomb of Epytus, Warriors who combat hand to hand, and they Who tilled the fields of Pheneus and possessed Orchomenus with all its flocks, or dwelt In Ripa and in Stratia, and the bleak Enispe, beaten with perpetual winds, And in Tegea, and the lovely land Of Mantinea, and in Stymphalus And in Parrhasia, came in sixty ships To Troy, with Agapenor for their chief, Son of Anceus. Every ship was thronged With warriors of Arcadia, for the king Of men, Atrides, gave them well-oared barks To cross the dark blue deep, since not to them Pertained the cares and labors of the sea. Then from Buprasium and the sacred coast Of Elis, from Hyrmine and remote Myrsinus and the Olenian precipice, And from Alisium came, with chieftains four, The warriors, ten swift galleys following Each chieftain, crowded with Epean troops. And part obeyed Amphimacus, the son Of Cteatus, and part with Thalpius came, The son of Eurytus Actorides, And part with brave Diores, of the line Of Amarynceus. Last, Polyxenus, The godlike offspring of Agasthenes, Whose father was Augeias, led the rest. They from Dulichium and the Echinades, Those holy isles descried from Elis o'er The waters, had for leader Megas, brave As Mars, the son of Phyleus, dearly loved By Jove. He left his father's house in wrath And dwelt within Dulichium. With the troops Of Megas came a fleet of forty ships. Ulysses led the Cephallenian men, Who dwelt in Ithaca, or whose abode Was leafy Neritus, and those who came From Crocyleia, and from Ægilips The craggy, and Zacynthus, and the isle Of Samos, and from Euripus and all The bordering lands. O'er these Ulysses ruled, A chief like Jove in council, and with him There came twelve galleys with their scarlet prows. Then with the Ætolians came Andræmon's son Thoas, their leader. With him were the men Of Pleuron and Pylene, Olenus, And Chalcis on the sea-coast and the rocks Of Calydon; for now no more the sons Of large-souled Eneus were alive on earth, Nor lived the chief himself, and in his tomb Was Meleager of the golden hair; And thus the Ætolian rule to Thoas came. A fleet of fourscore galleys followed him. Idomeneus, expert to wield the spear, Commanded those of Crete, the men who dwelt In Cnosus or Gortyna, strongly walled Lyctus, Miletus, and the glimmering Lycastus, Phæstus, Rhytium's populous town, And all the warrior train inhabiting The hundred towns of Crete. Idomeneus The mighty spearman, and Meriones, Fierce as the god of war, commanded these, And came to Troy with eighty dark-ribbed barks. Tlepolemus, a warrior of the stock Of Hercules, was leader of the troops Of Rhodes, and brought nine vessels to the war, Manned with the haughty Rhodians. These were ranged In threefold order: those of Lindus, those Who dwell in white Camirus, lastly those Of Ialassa. These Tlepolemus, The valiant spearman, ruled. Astyoche Bore him to mighty Hercules, who led The maid from Ephyra, upon the banks Of Selleis, to be his wife, what time His valor had o'erthrown and made a spoil Of many a city full of noble youths. Tlepolemus, when in the palace-halls He grew to manhood, slew an aged man, An uncle of his father, whom he loved, Lycimnius, of the line of Mars, and straight He rigged a fleet of ships and led on board A numerous host and fled across the sea. For fearful were the threats of other sons And grandsons of the mighty Hercules. In Rhodes they landed after wanderings long And many hardships. There they dwelt in tribes, - Three tribes, and were beloved of Jupiter, The ruler over gods and men, who poured Abundant riches on their new abode. Nireus with three good ships from Syma came, - Nireus, Aglaia's son by Charopus The monarch, - Nireus who in comeliness Surpassed all Greeks that came to Ilium, save The faultless son of Peleus. Yet was he Unwarlike and few people followed him. The dwellers of Nisyrus, Crapathus, And Cos, the city of Eurypylus, Casus, and the Calydnian isles, obeyed Phidippus and his brother Antiphus, Sons of the monarch Thessalus, who sprang From Hercules. With thirty ships they came. But those who held Pelasgian Argos, those Who dwelt in Alos, Trachys, Alope, Phthia, and Hellas full of lovely dames, - Named Myrmidons, Achaians, Hellenes, - Achilles led their fifty ships; but they Now heeded not the summons to the war, For there was none to form their ranks for fight. The great Achilles, swift of foot, remained Within his ships, indignant for the sake Of the fair-haired Briseis, whom he brought A captive from Lyrnessus after toils And dangers many. He had sacked and spoiled Lyrnessus, and o'erthrown the walls of Thebes And smitten Mynes and Epistrophus, The warlike sons of King Evenus, sprung From old Selapius. For this cause he kept Within his ships, full soon to issue forth. The men of Phylace, of Pyrasus, — Sacred to Ceres and o'erspread with flowers, And of Itona, mother of white flocks, Antrona on the sea, and Pteleum green With herbage, - over these while yet he lived The brave Protesilaus ruled; but now The dark earth covered him, and for his sake His consort, desolate in Phylace, Tore her fair cheeks, and all unfinished stood His palace, for a Dardan warrior slew Her husband as he leaped upon the land, The foremost of the Achaians. Yet his troops Were not without a leader, though they mourned Their brave old chief. Podarces, loved by Mars, — Son of Iphiclus, rich in flocks, who sprang From Phylacus, - led them and formed their ranks. A younger brother of the slain was he. The slain was braver. Though the warriors grieved To lose their glorious chief, they did not lack A general. Forty dark ships followed him. Then they who dwelt in Pheræ, by the lake Bæbeis, and in Bæbe, Glaphyræ, And nobly built Iolchos, came to Troy, Filling eleven galleys, and obeyed Eumelus, whom Alcestis the divine Bore to Admetus, - fairest, she, of all The house of Pelias and of womankind. Those from Methoné, craggy Olizon, And Melibœa and Thaumacia, filled Seven ships, with Philoctetes for their chief, A warrior skilled to bend the bow. Each bark Held fifty rowers, bowmen all, and armed For stubborn battle. But their leader lay Far in an island, suffering grievous pangs, The hallowed isle of Lemnos. There the Greeks Left him, in torture from a venomed wound Made by a serpent's fangs. He lay and pined. Yet was the moment near when they who thus Forsook their king should think of him again. Meantime his troops were not without a chief; Though greatly they desired their ancient lord, For now the base-born Medon marshalled them, Son of Oïleus. Rhene brought him forth To that destroyer of strong fortresses. The men of Tricca and Ithome's hills, And they who held Echalia and the town Of Eurytus the Echalian, had for chiefs Two sons of Esculapius, healers both, And skilful, - Podalirius one, and one Machaon. Thirty hollow barks were theirs. The dwellers of Ormenium, they whose homes Were by the Hyperian fount, and they Who held Asterium and the snowy peaks Of Titanus, obeyed Eurypylus, Evæmon's son, and far renowned. A fleet Of forty dark-ribbed vessels followed him. Those who possessed Argissa, those who held Gyrtoné, Orthé, and Heloné, those Who dwelt in Oloösson with white walls, The sturdy warrior Polypætes led, Son of Pirithoüs, who derived his birth From deathless Jove. Hippodameia bore The warrior to Pirithoüs on the day When he took vengeance on the shaggy brood Of Centaurs, and from Pelion drove them forth To Ethicæ. Yet not alone in rule Was Polypætes, for Leonteus, sprung From the large-souled Coronus, Cæneus' son, Shared with him the command. With them a fleet Of forty dark-hulled vessels came to Troy. Then Guneus came, with two and twenty ships From Cythus. Under his command he held The Enienes, and that sturdy race, The Peribœan warriors, and the men Who built on cold Dodona, or who tilled The fields where pleasant Titaresius flows And into Peneus pours his gentle stream, Yet with its silver eddies mingles not, But floats upon the current's face like oil, - A Stygian stream by which the immortals swear. With Prothoüs, Tenthredon's son, there came The warriors of Magnesia, who abode By Peneus, and by Pelion hung with woods; Swift-footed Prothoüs led these. They came With forty dark-hulled galleys to the war. These were the chiefs and princes of the Greeks. Say, Muse, who most excelled among the kings, And which the noblest steeds, of all that came With the two sons of Atreus to the war? The noblest steeds were those in Pheræ bred, That, guided by Eumelus, flew like birds, - Alike in hue and age; the plummet showed Their height the same, and both were mares, and, reared By Phœbus of the silver bow among The meadows of Pieria, they became The terror of the bloody battle-field. The mightiest of the chiefs, while yet in wrath Achilles kept aloof, was Ajax, son Of Telamon; yet was Pelides far The greater warrior, and the steeds which bore That perfect hero were of noblest breed. In his beaked galleys, swift to cut the sea, Achilles lay, meanwhile, and nursed the wrath He bore to Agamemnon, Atreus' son, The shepherd of the people. On the beach His warriors took their sport with javelins And quoits and bows, while near the chariots tied The horses, standing, browsed on lotus-leaves And parsley from the marshes. But beneath The tents the closely covered chariots stood, While idly through the camp the charioteers, Hither and thither sauntering, missed the sight Of their brave lord and went not to the field. The army swept the earth as when a fire Devours the herbage of the plains. The ground Groaned under them as when the Thunderer Jove In anger with his lightnings smites the earth About Typhœus-where they say he lies- In Arimi. So fearfully the ground Groaned under that swift army as it moved. Now to the Trojans the swift Iris came A messenger from ægis-bearing Jove, Tidings of bale she brought. They all had met - Old men and youths-in council at the gates Of Priam's mansion. There did Iris take Her station near the multitude, and spake, In voice and gesture like Polites, son Of Priam, who, confiding in his speed, Had stood a watcher for the sons of Troy On aged Æsyeta's lofty tomb, To give them warning when the Achaian host Should issue from their galleys. Thus disguised, Swift Iris spake her message to the Greeks: - "Father! thou art delighted with much speech, As once in time of peace, but now 't is war, Inevitable war, and close at hand. I have seen many battles, yet have ne'er Beheld such armies, and so vast as these, — In number like the sands and summer leaves. They march across the plain, prepared to give Battle beneath the city walls. To thee, O Hector, it belongs to heed my voice And counsel. Many are the allies within The walls of this great town of Priam, men Of diverse race and speech. Let every chief Of these array his countrymen for war, And give them orders for the coming fight." She spake, and Hector heeded and obeyed The counsel of the goddess; he dismissed The assembly; all the Trojans rushed to arms, And all the gates were opened. Horse and foot Poured forth together in tumultuous haste. In the great plain before the city stands A mound of easy ascent on every side; Men named it Batiea, but the gods Called it the swift Myrinna's tomb; and here Mustered the sons of Troy and their allies. Great Hector of the beamy helm, the son Of Priam, led the Trojan race. The host Of greatest multitude was marshalled there, And there the bravest, mighty with the spear. Æneas marshalled the Dardanian troops, - The brave son of Anchises. Venus bore The warrior to Anchises on the heights Of Ida, where the mortal lover met The goddess. Yet he ruled them not alone; Two chiefs, Antenor's sons Archelochus And Acamas, were with him in command, Expert in all the many arts of war. The Trojans from Zeleia, opulent men, Who drank the dark Æsepus, - over these Ruled Pandarus, Lycaon's valiant son, To whom the god Apollo gave his bow. The troops from Adrasteia, they who dwelt Within Apæsus' walls, or tilled the soil Of Pityeia and Tereia's heights, Were led by Amphius and Adrastus, clad In linen corslets for the war, the sons Of Merops the Percosian, skilled beyond All other men in the diviner's art. Nor would he that his sons should seek the field Of slaughter. They obeyed him not; the fates Decreed their early death and urged them on. The dwellers of Percote, Practium, And Sestus, and Abydus, and divine Arisba, followed Asius, great among The heroes and the son of Hyrtacus, - Asius, who came with strong and fiery steeds, Borne from Arisba and from Selleis' banks. Hippothoüs over the Pelasgian tribes- Skilled spearman, who abode among the fields Of the deep-soiled Larissa - bore command, — Hippothoüs with Pylæus, who derived Their race from Mars, and for their father claimed Pelasgian Lethus, son of Teutamus. And Acamas, and Peiroüs, valiant chief, Were captains of the Thracian men, whose fields Were bounded by the rushing Hellespont. Euphemus came with his Cicones, skilled To wield the spear in fight. The nobly-born Træzenus was his father. Ceas' son Pyræchmes with Pæonia's archers came From the broad Axius in far Amydon, - Axius, the fairest river of the earth. Pylæmenes, a chief of fearless heart, Led from the region of the Eneti, Where first the stubborn race of mules was bred, The Paphlagonian warriors, they who held Cytorus, Sesamus, and fair abodes Built where Parthenius wanders on, and those Who dwelt in Cromna and Ægialus, And on the lofty Erythinian heights. And Hodius and Epistrophus led on The Halezonians from the distant land Of Alyba, where ores of silver lie. And Chromis and the augur Ennomus Were leaders of the Mysians; but his skill Saved not the augur from the doom of death, Slain by the swift of foot, Eacides, With other men of Troy where Xanthus flows. And Phorcys, and Ascanius, who was like A god in beauty, led the Phrygian troops From far Ascania, eager for the fray. And Antiphus and Mesthles were the chiefs Of the Mæonian warriors, reared beside The ships of Tmolus. There Gygæa's lake Brought forth both chieftains to Pylæmenes. Nastes was leader of the Carian troops, Who spake in barbarous accents and possessed Miletus and the leafy mountain heights Where dwell the Phthirians, and Mæander's stream, And airy peaks of Mycale. O'er these Amphimachus and Nastes held command, - Amphimachus and Nastes, far renowned Sons of Nomion, him who, madly vain, Went to the battle pranked like a young girl In golden ornaments. They spared him not The bitter doom of death; he fell beneath The hand of swift Æacides within The river's channel. There the great in war, Achilles, spoiled Nomion of his gold. Sarpedon and the noble Glaucus bore Rule o'er the Lycians coming from afar, Where eddying Xanthus runs through Lycia's meads.
BOOK III. NOW when both armies were arrayed for war, Each with its chiefs, the Trojan host moved on With shouts and clang of arms, as when the cry Of cranes is in the air, that, flying south From winter and its mighty breadth of rain, Wing their way over ocean, and at dawn Bring fearful battle to the pigmy race, Bloodshed and death. But silently the Greeks Went forward, breathing valor, mindful still To aid each other in the coming fray. As when the south wind shrouds a mountain-top In vapors that awake the shepherd's fear, A surer covert for the thief than night, - And round him one can only see as far As one can hurl a stone, - such was the cloud Of dust that from the warriors' trampling feet Rose round their rapid march and filled the air. Now drew they near each other, face to face, And Paris in the Trojan van pressed on, In presence like a god. A leopard's hide Was thrown across his shoulders, and he bore A crooked bow and falchion. Brandishing Two brazen-pointed javelins, he defied To mortal fight the bravest of the Greeks. Him Menelaus, loved of Mars, beheld Advancing with large strides before the rest; And as a hungry lion who has made A prey of some large beast - a hornèd stag Or mountain goat-rejoices, and with speed Devours it, though swift hounds and sturdy youths Press on his flank, so Menelaus felt Great joy when Paris, of the godlike form, Appeared in sight, for now he thought to wreak His vengeance on the guilty one, and straight Sprang from his car to earth with all his arms. But when the graceful Paris saw the chief Come toward him from the foremost ranks, his heart Was troubled, and he turned and passed among His fellow-warriors and avoided death. As one who meets within a mountain glade A serpent starts aside with sudden fright, And takes the backward way with trembling limbs And cheeks all white, - the graceful Paris thus Before the son of Atreus shrank in fear, And mingled with the high-souled sons of Troy. Hector beheld and thus upbraided him Harshly: "O luckless Paris, nobly formed, Yet woman-follower and seducer! Thou Shouldst never have been born, or else at best Have died unwedded; better were it far, Than thus to be a scandal and a scorn To all who look on thee. The long-haired Greeks, How they will laugh, who for thy gallant looks Deemed thee a hero, when there dwells in thee No spirit and no courage? Wast thou such When, crossing the great deep in thy stanch ships With chosen comrades, thou didst make thy way Among a stranger-people and bear off A beautiful woman from that distant land, Allied by marriage-ties to warrior-men, A mischief to thy father and to us And all the people, to our foes a joy, And a disgrace to thee? Why couldst thou not Await Atrides? Then hadst thou been taught From what a valiant warrior thou didst take His blooming spouse. Thy harp will not avail, Nor all the gifts of Venus, nor thy locks, Nor thy fair form, when thou art laid in dust. Surely the sons of Troy are faint of heart, Else hadst thou, for the evil thou hast wrought, Been laid beneath a coverlet of stone." Then Paris, of the godlike presence, spake In answer: "Hector, thy rebuke is just; Thou dost not wrong me. Dauntless is thy heart; 'T is like an axe when, wielded by the hand That hews the shipwright's plank, it cuts right through, Doubling the wielder's force. Such tameless heart Dwells in thy bosom. Yet reproach me not With the fair gifts which golden Venus gave. Whatever in their grace the gods bestow Is not to be rejected: 't is not ours To choose what they shall give us. But if thou Desirest to behold my prowess shown In combat, cause the Trojans and the Greeks To pause from battle, while, between the hosts, I and the warlike Menelaus strive In single fight for Helen and her wealth. Whoever shall prevail and prove himself The better warrior, let him take with him The treasure and the woman, and depart; While all the other Trojans, having made A faithful league of amity, shall dwell On Ilium's fertile plain, and all the Greeks Return to Argos, famed for noble steeds, And to Achaia, famed for lovely dames." He spake, and Hector, hearing him, rejoiced, And went between the hosts, and with his spear, Held by the middle, pressed the phalanxes Of Trojans back, and made them all sit down. The long-haired Greeks meanwhile, with bended bows, Took aim against him, just about to send Arrows and stones; but Agamemnon, king Of men, beheld, and thus he cried aloud: - "Restrain yourselves, ye Argives; let not fly Your arrows, ye Achaians; Hector asks He of the beamy helmet asks to speak." He spake, and they refrained, and all, at once, Were silent. Hector then stood forth and said: - "Hearken, ye Trojans and ye nobly-armed Achaians, to what Paris says by me. He bids the Trojans and the Greeks lay down Their shining arms upon the teeming earth, And he and Menelaus, loved of Mars, Will strive in single combat, on the ground Between the hosts, for Helen and her wealth; And he who shall o'ercome, and prove himself The better warrior, to his home shall bear The treasure and the woman, while the rest Shall frame a solemn covenant of peace." He spake, and both the hosts in silence heard. Then Menelaus, great in battle, said: - "Now hear me also, - me whose spirit feels The wrong most keenly. I propose that now The Greeks and Trojans separate reconciled, For greatly have ye suffered for the sake Of this my quarrel, and the original fault Of Paris. Whomsoever fate ordains To perish, let him die; but let the rest Be from this moment reconciled, and part. And bring an offering of two lambs - one white, The other black - to Earth and to the Sun, And we ourselves will offer one to Jove. And be the mighty Priam here, that he May sanction this our compact, - for his sons Are arrogant and faithless, - lest some hand Wickedly break the covenant of Jove. The younger men are of a fickle mood; But when an elder shares the act he looks Both to the past and future, and provides What is most fitting and the best for all." He spake, and both the Greeks and Trojans heard His words with joy, and hoped the hour was come To end the hard-fought war. They reined their steeds Back to the ranks, alighted, and put off Their armor, which they laid upon the ground Near them in piles, with little space between. Then Hector sent two heralds forth with speed Into the town, to bring the lambs and call King Priam. Meanwhile Agamemnon bade Talthybius seek the hollow ships and find A lamb for the altar. He obeyed the words Of noble Agamemnon, king of men. Meanwhile to white-armed Helen Iris came A messenger. She took a form that seemed Laodice, the sister of Paris, whom Antenor's son, King Helicaon, wed, - Fairest of Priam's daughters. She drew near To Helen, in the palace, weaving there An ample web, a shining double-robe, Whereon were many conflicts fairly wrought, Endured by the horse-taming sons of Troy And brazen-mailed Achaians for her sake Upon the field of Mars. Beside her stood Swift-footed Iris, and addressed her thus: "Dear lady, come and see the Trojan knights And brazen-mailed Achaians doing things To wonder at. They who, in this sad war, Eager to slay each other, lately met In murderous combat on the field, are now Seated in silence, and the war hath ceased. They lean upon their shields; their massive spears Are near them, planted in the ground upright. Paris, and Menelaus, loved of Mars, With their long lances will contend for thee, And thou wilt be declared the victor's spouse." She said, and in the heart of Helen woke Dear recollections of her former spouse And of her home and kindred. Instantly She left her chamber, robed and veiled in white, And shedding tender tears; yet not alone, For with her went two maidens, - Æthra, child Of Pitheus, and the large-eyed Clymene. Straight to the Scean gates they walked, by which Panthoüs, Priam, and Thymætes sat, Lampus and Clytius, Hicetaon sprung From Mars, Antenor and Ucalegon, Two sages, -elders of the people all. Beside the gates they sat, unapt, through age, For tasks of war, but men of fluent speech, Like the cicadas that within the wood Sit on the trees and utter delicate sounds. Such were the nobles of the Trojan race Who sat upon the tower. But when they marked The approach of Helen, to each other thus With winged words, but in low tones, they said: "Small blame is theirs, if both the Trojan knights And brazen-mailed Achaians have endured So long so many evils for the sake Of that one woman. She is wholly like In feature to the deathless goddesses. So be it: let her, peerless as she is, Return on board the fleet, nor stay to bring Disaster upon us and all our race." So spake the elders. Priam meantime called To Helen: "Come, dear daughter, sit by me. Thou canst behold thy former husband hence, Thy kindred and thy friends. I blame thee not; The blame is with the immortals who have sent These pestilent Greeks against me. Sit and name For me this mighty man, the Grecian chief, Gallant and tall. True, there are taller men; But of such noble form and dignity I never saw: in truth, a kingly man." And Helen, fairest among women, thus Answered: "Dear second father, whom at once I fear and honor, would that cruel death Had overtaken me before I left, To wander with thy son, my marriage-bed, And my dear daughter, and the company Of friends I loved. But that was not to be; And now I pine and weep. Yet will I tell What thou dost ask. The hero whom thou seest Is the wide-ruling Agamemnon, son Of Atreus, and is both a gracious king And a most dreaded warrior. He was once Brother-in-law to me, if I may speak - Lost as I am to shame- of such a tie." She said, the aged man admired, and then He spake again: "O son of Atreus, born Under a happy fate, and fortunate Among the sons of men! A mighty host Of Grecian youths obey thy rule. I went To Phrygia once, - that land of vines, - and there Saw many Phrygians, heroes on fleet steeds, The troops of Otreus, and of Mygdon, shaped Like one of the immortals. They encamped By the Sangarius. I was an ally; My troops were ranked with theirs upon the day When came the unsexed Amazons to war. Yet even there I saw not such a host As this of black-eyed Greeks who muster here." Then Priam saw Ulysses, and inquired: - "Dear daughter, tell me also who is that, Less tall than Agamemnon, yet more broad In chest and shoulders. On the teeming earth His armor lies, but he, from place to place, Walks round among the ranks of soldiery, As when the thick-fleeced father of the flocks Moves through the multitude of his white sheep." And Jove-descended Helen answered thus:- "That is Ulysses, man of many arts, Son of Laertes, reared in Ithaca, That rugged isle, and skilled in every form Of shrewd device and action wisely planned." Then spake the sage Antenor: "Thou hast said The truth, O lady. This Ulysses once Came on an embassy, concerning thee, To Troy with Menelaus, great in war; And I received them as my guests, and they Were lodged within my palace, and I learned The temper and the qualities of both. When both were standing 'mid the men of Troy, I marked that Menelaus's broad chest Made him the more conspicuous, but when both Were seated, greater was the dignity Seen in Ulysses. When they both addressed The council, Menelaus briefly spake In pleasing tones, though with few words, -as one Not given to loose and wandering speech, - although The younger. When the wise Ulysses rose, He stood with eyes cast down, and fixed on earth, And neither swayed his sceptre to the right Nor to the left, but held it motionless, Like one unused to public speech. He seemed An idiot out of humor. But when forth He sent from his full lungs his mighty voice, And words came like a fall of winter snow, No mortal then would dare to strive with him For mastery in speech. We less admired The aspect of Ulysses than his words." Beholding Ajax then, the aged king Asked yet again: "Who is that other chief Of the Achaians, tall, and large of limb, - Taller and broader-chested than the rest?" Helen, the beautiful and richly-robed, Answered: "Thou seest the mighty Ajax there, The bulwark of the Greeks. On the other side, Among his Cretans, stands Idomeneus, Of godlike aspect, near to whom are grouped The leaders of the Cretans. Oftentimes The warlike Menelaus welcomed him Within our palace, when he came from Crete. I could point out and name the other chiefs Of the dark-eyed Achaians. Two alone, Princes among their people, are not seen, - Castor the fearless horseman, and the skilled In boxing, Pollux, - twins; one mother bore Both at one birth with me. Did they not come From pleasant Lacedæmon to the war? Or, having crossed the deep in their good ships, Shun they to fight among the valiant ones Of Greece, because of my reproach and shame?” She spake; but they already lay in earth In Lacedæmon, their dear native land. And now the heralds through the city bore The sacred pledges of the gods, - two lambs, And joyous wine, the fruit of Earth, within A goat-skin. One of them - Idæus-brought A glistening vase and golden drinking-cups, And summoned, in these words, the aged king:- "Son of Laomedon, arise! The chiefs Who lead the Trojan knights and brazen-mailed Achaians pray thee to descend at once Into the plain, that thou may'st ratify A faithful compact. Alexander now And warlike Menelaus will contend With their long spears for Helen. She and all Her treasures are to be the conqueror's prize; While all the other Trojans, having made A faithful league of amity, shall dwell On Ilium's fertile plain, and all the Greeks Return to Argos, famed for noble steeds, And to Achaia, famed for lovely dames." He spake, and Priam, shuddering, heard and bade The attendants yoke the horses to his car. Soon were they yoked; he mounted first and drew The reins; Antenor took a place within The sumptuous car, and through the Scæan gates They guided the fleet coursers toward the field. Now when the twain had come where lay the hosts Of Trojans and Achaians, down they stepped Upon the teeming earth, and went among The assembled armies. Quickly, as they came, Rose Agamemnon, king of men, and next Uprose the wise Ulysses. To the spot The illustrious heralds brought the sacred things That bind a treaty, and with mingled wine They filled a chalice, and upon the hands Of all the kings poured water. Then the son Of Atreus drew a dagger which he wore Slung by his sword's huge sheath, and clipped away The forelocks of the lambs, and parted them Among the Trojan and Achaian chiefs, And stood with lifted hands and prayed aloud:- "O Father Jupiter, who rulest all From Ida, mightiest, most august! and thou, O all-beholding and all-hearing Sun! Ye Rivers, and thou Earth, and ye who dwell Beneath the earth and punish after death Those who have sworn false oaths, bear witness ye, And keep unbroken this day's promises. If Alexander in the combat slay My brother Menelaus, he shall keep Helen and all her wealth, while we return Homeward in our good ships. If, otherwise, The bright-haired Menelaus take the life Of Alexander, Helen and her wealth Shall be restored, and they of Troy shall pay Such fine as may be meet, and may be long Remembered in the ages yet to come. And then if, after Alexander's fall, Priam and Priam's sons refuse the fine, I shall make war for it, and keep my place By Troy until I gain the end I seek." So spake the king, and with the cruel steel Cut the lambs' throats, and laid them on the ground, Panting and powerless, for the dagger took Their lives away. Then over them they poured Wine from the chalice, drawn in golden cups, And prayed to the ever-living gods; and thus Were Trojans and Achaians heard to say: - "O Jupiter most mighty and august! Whoever first shall break these solemn oaths, So may their brains flow down upon the earth, — Theirs and their children's, -like the wine we pour, And be their wives the wives of other men." Such was the people's vow. Saturnian Jove Confirmed it not. Then Priam, of the line Of Dardanus, addressed the armies thus:- "Hear me, ye Trojans, and ye well-greaved Greeks! For me I must return to wind-swept Troy. I cannot bear, with these old eyes, to look On my dear son engaged in desperate fight With Menelaus, the beloved of Mars. Jove and the ever-living gods alone Know which of them shall meet the doom of death." So spake the godlike man, and placed the lambs Within his chariot, mounted, and drew up The reins. Antenor by him took his place Within the sumptuous chariot. Then they turned The horses and retraced their way to Troy. But Hector, son of Priam, and the great Ulysses measured off a fitting space, And in a brazen helmet, to decide Which warrior first should hurl the brazen spear, They shook the lots, while all the people round Lifted their hands to heaven and prayed the gods; And thus the Trojans and Achaians said: - "O Father Jove, who rulest from the top Of Ida, mightiest one and most august! Whichever of these twain has done the wrong, Grant that he pass to Pluto's dwelling, slain, While friendship and a faithful league are ours." So spake they. Hector of the beamy helm Looked back and shook the lots. Forth leaped at once The lot of Paris. Then they took their seats In ranks beside their rapid steeds, and where Lay their rich armor. Paris the divine, Husband of bright-haired Helen, clad himself In his refulgent armor; round his legs He fastened the fair greaves with silver clasps, And placed his brother's corslet on his breast, — Lycaon's, fairly shaped to suit his form. He hid his glorious forehead in a helm Well-wrought, from which was streaming gallantly A horse-hair crest, and grasped a massive spear, Which filled his hand. Meantime, in like array, The warlike Menelaus armed himself. And now when both were armed for fight, and each Had left his host, and, coming forward, walked Between the Trojans and the Greeks, and frowned Upon the other, a mute wonder held The Trojan cavaliers and well-greaved Greeks. There near each other in the measured space They stood in wrathful mood with lifted spears. First Paris hurled his massive spear; it smote The smooth shield of Atrides, but the brass Broke not beneath the blow; the weapon's point Was bent on that strong shield. The next assault Atrides Menelaus made, but first Offered this prayer to Father Jupiter:- "O sovereign Jove! vouchsafe that I avenge On guilty Paris wrongs which he was first To offer; let him fall beneath my hand, That men may dread hereafter to requite The friendship of a host with injury." He spake, and flung his brandished spear; it smote The smooth shield of Priamides; right through The shining buckler went the rapid steel, And, cutting the soft tunic near the flank, Stood fixed in the fair corslet. Paris bent Sideways before it and escaped his death. Atrides drew his silver-studded sword, Lifted it high and smote his enemy's crest. The weapon, shattered to four fragments, fell. He looked to the broad heaven, and thus exclaimed: - "O Father Jove! thou art of all the gods The most unfriendly. I had hoped to avenge The wrong by Paris done me, but my sword Is broken in my grasp, and from my hand The spear was vainly flung and gave no wound." He spake, and, rushing forward, seized the helm Of Paris by its horse-hair crest, and turned And dragged him toward the well-armed Greeks. Beneath His tender throat the embroidered band that held The helmet to the chin was choking him. And now had Menelaus dragged him thence, And earned great glory, if the child of Jove, Venus, had not perceived his plight in time. She broke the ox-hide band; an empty helm Followed the powerful hand; the hero saw, Swung it aloft and hurled it toward the Greeks, And there his comrades seized it. He again Rushed with his brazen spear to slay his foe. But Venus for a goddess easily Can work such marvels - rescued him, and, wrapped In a thick shadow, bore him from the field And placed him in his chamber, where the air Was sweet with perfumes. Then she took her way To summon Helen. On the lofty tower She found her, midst a throng of Trojan dames, And plucked her perfumed robe. She took the form And features of a spinner of the fleece, An aged dame, who used to comb for her The fair white wool in Lacedæmon's halls, And loved her much. In such an humble guise The goddess Venus thus to Helen spake: - "Come hither, Alexander sends for thee; He now is in his chamber and at rest On his carved couch; in beauty and attire Resplendent, not like one who just returns From combat with a hero, but like one Who goes to mingle in the choral dance, Or, when the dance is ended, takes his seat." She spake, and Helen heard her, deeply moved; Yet when she marked the goddess's fair neck, Beautiful bosom, and soft, lustrous eyes, Her heart was touched with awe, and thus she said: - "Strange being! why wilt thou delude me still? Wouldst thou decoy me further on among The populous Phrygian towns, or those that stud Pleasant Mæonia, where there haply dwells Some one of mortal race whom thou dost deign To make thy favorite. Hast thou seen, perhaps, That Menelaus, having overpowered The noble Alexander, seeks to bear Me, hated as I must be, to his home? And hast thou therefore fallen on this device? Go to him, sit by him, renounce for him The company of gods, and never more Return to heaven, but suffer with him; watch Beside him till he take thee for his wife Or handmaid. Thither I shall never go, To adorn his couch and to disgrace myself. The Trojan dames would taunt me. O, the griefs That press upon my soul are infinite!" Displeased, the goddess Venus answered: "Wretch, Incense me not, lest I abandon thee In anger, and detest thee with a zeal As great as is my love, and lest I cause Trojans and Greeks to hate thee, so that thou Shalt miserably perish." Thus she spake; And Helen, Jove-begotten, struck with awe, Wrapped in a robe of shining white, went forth In silence from amidst the Trojan dames, Unheeded, for the goddess led the way. When now they stood beneath the sumptuous roof Of Alexander, straightway did the maids Turn to their wonted tasks, while she went up, Fairest of women, to her chamber. There The laughing Venus brought and placed a seat Right opposite to Paris. Helen sat, Daughter of ægis-bearing Jove, with eyes Averted, and reproached her husband thus:- "Com'st thou from battle? Rather would that thou Hadst perished by the mighty hand of him Who was my husband. It was once, I know, Thy boast that thou wert more than peer in strength And power of hand, and practice with the spear, To warlike Menelaus. Go then now, Defy him to the combat once again. And yet I counsel thee to stand aloof, Nor rashly seek a combat, hand to hand, With fair-haired Menelaus, lest perchance He smite thee with his spear and thou be slain." Then Paris answered: "Woman, chide me not Thus harshly. True it is, that, with the aid Of Pallas, Menelaus hath obtained The victory; but I may vanquish him In turn, for we have also gods with us. Give we the hour to dalliance; never yet Have I so strongly proved the power of love, — Not even when I bore thee from thy home In pleasant Lacedæmon, traversing The deep in my good ships, and in the isle Of Cranaë made thee mine, - such glow of love Possesses me, and sweetness of desire." He spake, and to the couch went up; his wife Followed, and that fair couch received them both. Meantime Atrides, like a beast of prey, Went fiercely ranging through the crowd in search Of godlike Alexander. None of all The Trojans, or of their renowned allies, Could point him out to Menelaus, loved Of Mars; and had they known his lurking-place They would not for his sake have kept him hid, For like black death they hated him. There stood Among them Agamemnon, king of men, And spake: "Ye Trojans and Achaians, hear, And ye allies. The victory belongs To warlike Menelaus. Ye will then Restore the Argive Helen and her wealth, And pay the fitting fine, which shall remain A memory to men in future times." Thus spake the son of Atreus, and the rest Of the Achaian host approved his words.
BOOK IV. MEANTIME the immortal gods with Jupiter Upon his golden pavement sat and held A council. Hebe, honored of them all, Ministered nectar, and from cups of gold They pledged each other, looking down on Troy. When, purposely to kindle Juno's mood To anger, Saturn's son, with biting words That well betrayed his covert meaning, spake:- "Two goddesses - the Argive Juno one, The other Pallas, her invincible friend- Take part with Menelaus, yet they sit Aloof, content with looking on, while still Venus, the laughter-loving one, protects Her Paris, ever near him, warding off The stroke of fate. Just now she rescued him When he was near his death. The victory Belongs to Menelaus, loved of Mars. Now let us all consider what shall be The issue, whether we allow the war, With all its waste of life, to be renewed, Or cause the warring nations to sit down In amity. If haply it shall be The pleasure and the will of all the gods, Let Priam's city keep its dwellers still, And Menelaus lead his Helen home." He spake, but Juno and Minerva sat, And with closed lips repined, for secretly They plotted evil for the Trojan race. Minerva held her peace in bitterness Of heart and sore displeased with Father Jove. But Juno could not curb her wrath, and spake :- "What words, austere Saturnius, hast thou said! Wilt thou then render vain the toils I bear, And all my sweat? My very steeds even now Are weary with the mustering of the host That threaten woe to Priam and his sons. Yet do thy will; but be at least assured That all the other gods approve it not." The cloud-compelling Jupiter replied In anger: "Pestilent one! what grievous wrong Hath Priam done to thee, or Priam's sons, That thou shouldst persevere to overthrow His noble city? Shouldst thou through the gates Of Ilium make thy way, and there devour, Within the ramparts, Priam and his sons And all the men of Troy alive, thy rage Haply might be appeased. Do as thou wilt, So that this difference breed no lasting strife Between us. Yet I tell thee this, - and thou Bear what I say in mind: In time to come, Should I design to level in the dust Some city where men dear to thee are born, Seek not to thwart my vengeance, but submit. For now I fully yield me to thy wish, Though with unwilling mind. Wherever dwell The race of humankind beneath the sun And starry heaven, of all their cities Troy Has been by me most honored, - sacred Troy, — And Priam, and the people who obey Priam, the wielder of the ashen spear; For there my altars never lacked their rites, — Feasts, incense, and libations duly paid." Then Juno, the majestic, with large eyes, Rejoined: "The cities most beloved by me Are three, - Mycena, with her spacious streets, Argos, and Sparta. Raze them to the ground, If they be hateful to thee. I shall ne'er Contend to save them, nor repine to see Their fall; for, earnestly as I might seek To rescue them from ruin, all my aid Would not avail, so much the mightier thou. Yet doth it ill become thee thus to make My efforts vain. I am a goddess, sprung From the same stock with thee; I am the child Of crafty Saturn, and am twice revered, - Both for my birth and that I am the spouse Of thee who rulest over all the gods. Now let us each yield somewhat, - I to thee And thou to me; the other deathless gods Will follow us. Let Pallas be despatched To that dread battle-field on which are ranged The Trojans and Achaians, and stir up The Trojan warriors first to lift their hands Against the elated Greeks and break the league." She ended, and the Father of the gods And mortals instantly complied, and called Minerva, and in winged accents said: - "Haste to the battle-field, and there, among The Trojan and Achaian armies, cause The Trojan warriors first to lift their hands Against the elated Greeks and break the league." So saying, Jupiter to Pallas gave The charge she wished already. She in haste Shot from the Olympian summits, like a star Sent by the crafty Saturn's son to warn The seamen or some mighty host in arms, - A radiant meteor scattering sparkles round. So came and lighted Pallas on the earth Amidst the armies. All who saw were seized With wonder, - Trojan knights and well-armed Greeks; And many a one addressed his comrade thus:- "Sure we shall have the wasting war again, And stubborn combats; or, it may be, Jove, The arbiter of wars among mankind, Decrees that the two nations dwell in peace." So Greeks and Trojans said. The goddess went Among the Trojan multitude disguised: She seemed Laodocus, Antenor's son, A valiant warrior, seeking through the ranks For godlike Pandarus. At length she found Lycaon's gallant and illustrious son, Standing with bucklered warriors ranged around, Who followed him from where Æsepus flows; And, standing near, she spake these winged words: "Son of Lycaon! wilt thou hear my words, Brave as thou art? Then wilt thou aim a shaft At Menelaus; thus wilt thou have earned Great thanks and praise from all the men of Troy, And chiefly from Prince Paris, who will fill, Foremost of all, thy hands with lavish gifts, When he shall look on Menelaus slain - The warlike son of Atreus - by thy hand, And laid upon his lofty funeral pile. Aim now at Menelaus the renowned An arrow, while thou offerest a vow To Lycian Phœbus, mighty with the bow, That thou wilt bring to him a hecatomb Of firstling lambs, when thou again shalt come Within thine own Zeleia's sacred walls." So spake Minerva, and her words o'ercame The weak one's purpose. He uncovered straight His polished bow, made of the elastic horns Of a wild goat, which, from his lurking-place, As once it left its cavern lair, he smote, And pierced its breast, and stretched it on the rock. Full sixteen palms in length the horns had grown From the goat's forehead. These an artisan Had smoothed, and, aptly fitting each to each, Polished the whole and tipped the work with gold. To bend that bow, the warrior lowered it And pressed an end against the earth. His friends Held up, meanwhile, their shields before his face, Lest the brave sons of Greece should lift their spears Against him ere the champion of their host, The warlike Menelaus, should have felt The arrow. Then the Lycian drew aside The cover from his quiver, taking out A well-fledged arrow that had never flown, - A cause of future sorrows. On the string He laid that fatal arrow, while he made To Lycian Phœbus, mighty with the bow, A vow to sacrifice before his shrine A noble hecatomb of firstling lambs When he should come again to his abode Within his own Zeleia's sacred walls. Grasping the bowstring and the arrow's notch, He drew them back, and forced the string to meet His breast, the arrow-head to meet the bow, Till the bow formed a circle. Then it twanged. The cord gave forth a shrilly sound; the shaft Leaped forth in eager haste to reach the host. Yet, Menelaus, then the blessed gods, The deathless ones, forgot thee not; and first, Jove's daughter, gatherer of spoil, who stood Before thee, turned aside the deadly shaft. As when a mother, while her child is wrapped In a sweet slumber, scares away the fly, So Pallas turned the weapon from thy breast, And guided it to where the golden clasps Made fast the belt, and where the corslet's mail Was doubled. There the bitter arrow struck The belt, and through its close contexture passed, And fixed within the well-wrought corslet stood, Yet reached the plated quilt which next his skin The hero wore, - his surest guard against The weapon's force, - and broke through that alike; And there the arrow gashed the part below, And the dark blood came gushing from the wound. As when some Carian or Mæonian dame Tinges with purple the white ivory, To form a trapping for the cheeks of steeds, - And many a horseman covets it, yet still It lies within her chamber, to become The ornament of some great monarch's steed And make its rider proud, - thy shapely thighs, Thy legs, and thy fair ankles thus were stained, O Menelaus! with thy purple blood. When Agamemnon, king of men, beheld The dark blood flowing from his brother's wound, He shuddered. Menelaus, great in war, Felt the like horror; yet, when he perceived That still the arrow, neck and barb, remained Without the mail, the courage rose again That filled his bosom. Agamemnon, then, The monarch, sighing deeply, took the hand Of Menelaus, - while his comrades round Like him lamented, — sighing as he spake :- "Dear brother, when I sent thee forth alone To combat with the Trojans for the Greeks, I ratified a treaty for thy death, - Since now the Trojans smite and under foot Trample the league. Yet not in vain shall be The treaty, nor the blood of lambs, nor wine Poured to the gods, nor right hands firmly pledged; For though it please not now Olympian Jove To make the treaty good, he will in time Cause it to be fulfilled, and they shall pay Dearly with their own heads and with their wives And children for this wrong. And this I know In my undoubting mind, -a day will come When sacred Troy and Priam and the race Governed by Priam, mighty with the spear, Shall perish all. Saturnian Jove, who sits On high, a dweller of the upper air, Shall shake his dreadful ægis in the sight Of all, indignant at this treachery. Such the event will be; but I shall grieve Bitterly, Menelaus, if thou die, Thy term of life cut short. I shall go back To my dear Argos with a brand of shame Upon me. For the Greeks will soon again Bethink them of their country; we shall then Leave Argive Helen to remain the boast Of Priam and the Trojans, - while thy bones Shall moulder, mingling with the earth of Troy, — Our great design abandoned. Then shall say Some haughty Trojan, leaping on the tomb Of Menelaus: 'So in time to come May Agamemnon wreak his wrath, as here He wreaked it, whither he had vainly led An army, and now hastens to his home And his own land, with ships that bear no spoil, And the brave Menelaus left behind.' So shall some Trojan say; but, ere that time, May the earth open to receive my bones!" The fair-haired Menelaus cheerfully Replied: "Grieve not, nor be the Greeks alarmed For me, since this sharp arrow has not found A vital part, but, ere it reached so far, The embroidered belt, the quilt beneath, and plate Wrought by the armorer's cunning, broke its force." King Agamemnon took the word and said: - "Dear Menelaus! would that it were so, Yet the physician must explore thy wound, And with his balsams soothe the bitter pain." Then turning to Talthybius, he addressed The sacred herald: "Hasten with all speed, Talthybius; call Machaon, warrior-son Of Esculapius, that much-honored leech, And bring him to the Achaian general, The warlike Menelaus, whom some hand Of Trojan or of Lycian, skilled to bend The bow, hath wounded with his shaft, - a deed For him to exult in, but a grief to us." He spake; nor failed the herald to obey, But hastened at the word and passed among The squadrons of Achaia, mailed in brass, In search of great Machaon. Him he found As midst the valiant ranks of bucklered men He stood, -the troops who followed him to war From Triccæ, nurse of steeds. Then, drawing near, The herald spake to him in winged words:- "O son of Esculapius, come in haste. King Agamemnon calls thee to the aid Of warlike Menelaus, whom some hand Of Trojan or of Lycian, skilled to bend The bow, hath wounded with his shaft, - a deed For him to exult in, but a grief to us." Machaon's heart was touched, and forth they went Through the great throng, the army of the Greeks. And when they came where Atreus' warlike son Was wounded, they perceived the godlike man Standing amid a circle of the chiefs, The bravest of the Achaians, who at once Had gathered round. Without delay he drew The arrow from the fairly-fitted belt. The barbs were bent in drawing. Then he loosed The embroidered belt, the quilted vest beneath, And plate, - the armorer's work, - and carefully O'erlooked the wound, and cleansed it from the blood, And sprinkled over it with skilful hand The soothing balsams which in former days The friendly Chiron to his father gave. While round the warlike Menelaus thus The chiefs were busy, all the Trojans moved Into array of battle; they put on Their armor, and were eager for the fight. Then wouldst thou not have seen, hadst thou been there, King Agamemnon slumbering, or in fear, And skulking from the combat, but alert, Preparing for the glorious tasks of war. His horses, and his chariot bright with brass, He left, and bade Eurymedon, his groom, The son of Ptolemy Piriades, Hold them apart still panting, yet with charge To keep them near their master, till the hour When he should need them, weary with the toil Of such a vast command. Meantime he went On foot among his files of soldiery, And whomsoe'er he found with fiery steeds Hasting to battle, thus he cheered them on: — "O Argives! let not your hot courage cool, For Father Jove will never take the part Of treachery. Whosoe'er have been the first To break the league, upon their lifeless limbs Shall vultures feast; and doubt not we shall bear Away in our good ships the wives they love And their young children, when we take their town." But whomsoe'er he saw that kept afar From the dread field, he angrily rebuked:- "O Argives! who with arrows only fight, Base as ye are, have ye no sense of shame? Why stand ye stupefied, like fawns, that, tired With coursing the wide pastures, stop at last, Their strength exhausted! Thus ye stand amazed, Nor think of combat. Wait ye for the hour When to your ships, with their fair-sculptured prows, Moored on the borders of the hoary deep, The Trojans come, that haply ye may see If the great hand of Jove will shield you then?" Thus Agamemnon, as supreme in power, Threaded the warrior-files, until he came Where stood the Cretans. All in arms they stood Around Idomeneus, the great in war. Like a wild boar in strength, he led the van, And, in the rear, Meriones urged on His phalanxes. The king of men rejoiced, And blandly thus bespake Idomeneus:- "Idomeneus! I honor thee above The other knights of Greece, as well in war As in all other labors, and no less In banquets, when the Achaian nobles charge Their goblets with the dark-red mingled wine In sign of honor. All the other Greeks Drink by a certain measure, but thy cup Stands ever full, like mine, that thou may'st drink When thou desirest. Hasten to the war With all the valor thou dost glory in." The Cretan chief, Idomeneus, replied: - "Atrides, I remain thy true ally, As I have pledged my faith. But thou exhort The other long-haired Greeks, and bid them rush To combat, since the Trojans break their oath. For woe and death must be the lot of those Who broke the peace they vowed so solemnly." He spake. The son of Atreus, glad at heart, Passed on among the squadrons, till he came To where the warriors Ajax formed their ranks For battle, with a cloud of infantry. As when some goatherd from the hill-top sees A cloud that traverses the deep before A strong west wind, beholding it afar, Pitch-black it seems, and bringing o'er the waves A whirlwind with it; he is seized with fear, And drives his flock to shelter in a cave, — So with the warriors Ajax to the war Moved, dense and dark, the phalanxes of youths Trained for the combat, and their serried files Bristling with spears and shields. The king of men Saw with delight, and spake these winged words: "O warriors Ajax, leaders of the Greeks In brazen armor, I enjoin you not To rouse the courage of your soldiery. Such word would ill become me, for yourselves Have made your followers eager to engage In manful combat. Would to Jupiter, To Pallas, and Apollo, that there dwelt In every bosom such a soul as yours! Then would the city of King Priam fall At once, o'erthrown and levelled by our hands." Thus having said, he left them and went on To others. There he found the smooth of speech, Nestor, the Pylian orator, employed In marshalling his squadrons. Near to him Alastor and the large-limbed Pelagon, Chromius, and Hæmon, prince among his tribe, And Bias, shepherd of the people, stood. The cavalry with steeds and cars he placed In front. A vast and valiant multitude Of infantry he stationed in the rear, To be the bulwark of the war. Between He made the faint of spirit take their place, That, though unwillingly, they might be forced To combat with the rest. And first he gave His orders to the horsemen, bidding them To keep their coursers reined, nor let them range At random through the tumult of the crowd:- "And let no man, too vain of horsemanship, And trusting in his valor, dare advance Beyond the rest to attack the men of Troy, Nor let him fall behind the rest, to make Our ranks the weaker. Whoso from his car Can reach an enemy's, let him stand and strike With his long spear, for 't is the shrewder way. By rules like these, which their brave hearts obeyed, The men of yore laid level towns and towers." The aged man, long versed in tasks of war, Counselled them thus. King Agamemnon heard, Delighted, and in winged words he said: "O aged man, would that thy knees were firm As is thy purpose, and thy strength as great! But age, the common fate of all, has worn Thy frame: would that some others had thy age, And thou wert of the number of our youths!" Then answered Nestor, the Gerenian knight:- "O son of Atreus, I myself could wish That I were now as when of yore I laid Brave Ereuthalion in the dust. The gods Bestow not all their gifts on man at once. If I were then a youth, old age in turn Is creeping o'er me. Still I keep among The knights, and counsel and admonish them, - The office of the aged. Younger men, They who can trust their strength, must wield the spear." He spake. The son of Atreus passed him by, Pleased with his words, and, passing onward, came Where-with the Athenians, ever prompt to raise The war-cry, grouped around him - stood the knight Menestheus, son of Peteus. Near to these Was wise Ulysses, with his sturdy band Of Cephalonians. None of these had heard The clamor of the battle, for the hosts Of Trojan knights and Greeks had just begun To move, and there they waited for the advance Of other squadrons marching on to charge The Trojans and begin the war anew. The king of men, Atrides, was displeased, And spake, and chid them thus with winged words: - "O son of Peteus, foster-child of Jove, And thou, the man of craft and evil wiles! Why stand ye here aloof, irresolute, And wait the advance of others? Ye should be The first to meet the enemy and bear The heat of battle. Ye were first among The guests whom I have bidden to the feasts Prepared by us, the Achaians, for our chiefs. There banquet ye on roasted meats, and quaff The pleasant wines until ye have your fill." The man of many arts, Ulysses, spake, And frowned: "O Atreus' son! what words are these Which pass thy lips? How canst thou say that we Avoid the battle? Ever when the Greeks Seek bloody conflict with the Trojan knights, Thou, if thou wilt, and if thou givest heed To things like these, shalt with thine eyes behold The father of Telemachus engaged In combat with the foremost knights that form The Trojan van. Thou utterest empty words." King Agamemnon, when he saw the chief Offended, changed his tone, and, smiling, said: - "Son of Laertes, nobly born and wise Ulysses! It is not for me to chide Nor to exhort thee, for thy heart, I know, Counsels thee kindly toward me, and thy thought Agrees with mine. We will discuss all this Hereafter. If just now too harsh a word Was uttered, may the immortals make it vain!" So saying, he departed, and went on To others. By his steeds and by his car, That shone with fastenings of brass, he found The son of Tydeus, large-souled Diomed, And Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus, Standing beside him. Looking at them both, King Agamemnon to Tydides spake In wingèd words, and thus reproved the chief: - "O son of Tydeus, that undaunted knight! What is there to appall thee? Why look through The spaces that divide the warlike ranks? Not thus did Tydeus feel the touch of fear, But ever foremost of his warriors fought. So they declare who saw his deeds, for I Was never with him, nor have ever seen The hero. Yet they say that he excelled All others. Certain is it that he once Entered Mycenae as a friendly guest, With no array of soldiery, but came With godlike Polynices. 'T was the time When warrior-bands were gathered to besiege The sacred walls of Thebes, and earnestly They prayed that from Mycenæ they might lead Renowned auxiliars to the war, and we Would willingly have given the aid they asked, — For we approved the prayer, but Jove, with signs Of angry omen, changed our purposes. The chiefs departed, journeying on to where Asopus flows through reeds and grass, and thence The Achaians sent an embassy to Thebes By Tydeus. There he met the many sons Of Cadmus at the banquets in the hall Of valiant Eteocles. Though alone Among so many, and a stranger-guest, The hero feared them not, but challenged them To vie with him in games; and easily He won the victory, such aid was given By Pallas. Then the sons of Cadmus, skilled In horsemanship, were wroth, and privily Sent fifty armed youths to lie in wait For his return. Two leaders had the band, - Maion, the son of Hæmon, like a god In form, and Lycophontes, brave in war, Son of Autophonos. A bloody death Did Tydeus give the youths. He slew them all Save Maion, whom he suffered to return, Obedient to an omen from the gods. Such was Ætolian Tydeus; but his son, A better speaker, is less brave in war." He spake; and valiant Diomed, who heard The king's reproof with reverence, answered not. Then spake the son of honored Capaneus: - "Atrides, speak not falsely, when thou know'st The truth so well. Assuredly we claim To be far braver than our fathers were. We took seven-gated Thebes with fewer troops Than theirs, when, trusting in the omens sent From heaven, and in the aid of Jupiter, We led our men beneath the city walls Sacred to Mars. Our fathers perished there Through their own folly. Therefore never seek To place them in the same degree with us." But the brave Diomed regarded him With a stern look, and said: "Nay, Sthenelus! Of Agamemnon I will not complain, - The shepherd of the people; it is his To exhort the well-armed Greeks to gallant deeds. Great glory will attend him if the Greeks Shall overcome the Trojans, and shall take The sacred Ilium; but his grief will be Bitter if we shall fail and be destroyed. Hence think we only of the furious charge!" He spake, and from his chariot leaped to earth All armed; the mail upon the monarch's breast Rang terribly as he marched swiftly on. The boldest might have heard that sound with fear. As when the ocean-billows, wave on wave, Are pushed along to the resounding shore Before the western wind, and first the surge Uplifts itself, and then against the land Dashes and roars, and round the headland peaks Tosses on high and spouts its foam afar, So moved the serried phalanxes of Greece To battle, file succeeding file, each chief Giving command to his own troops; the rest Marched noiselessly: you might have thought no voice Was in the breasts of all that mighty throng, So silently they all obeyed their chiefs, Their showy armor glittering as they moved In firm array. But, as the numerous flock Of some rich man, while the white milk is drawn Within his sheepfold, hear the plaintive call Of their own lambs, and bleat incessantly, - Such clamors from the mighty Trojan host Arose; nor was the war-cry one, nor one The voice, but words of mingled languages, For they were called from many different climes. These Mars encouraged to the fight; but those The blue-eyed Pallas. Terror too was there, And Fright, and Strife that rages unappeased, - Sister and comrade of man-slaying Mars, - Who rises small at first, but grows, and lifts Her head to heaven and walks upon the earth. She, striding through the crowd and heightening The mutual rancor, flung into the midst Contention, source of bale to all alike. And now, when met the armies in the field, The ox-hide shields encountered, and the spears, And might of warriors mailed in brass; then clashed The bossy bucklers, and the battle-din Was loud; then rose the mingled shouts and groans Of those who slew and those who fell; the earth Ran with their blood. As when the winter streams Rush down the mountain-sides, and fill, below, With their swift waters, poured from gushing springs, Some hollow vale, the shepherd on the heights Hears the far roar, - such was the mingled din That rose from the great armies when they met. Then first Antilochus, advancing, struck The Trojan champion Echepolus down, Son of Thalysius, fighting in the van. He smote him on the helmet's cone, where streamed The horse-hair plume; the brazen javelin stood Fixed in his forehead, piercing through the bone, And darkness gathered o'er his eyes. He fell As falls a tower before some stubborn siege. Then Elephenor, son of Chalcodon, Prince of the brave Abrantes, by the foot Seized the slain chieftain, dragging him beyond The reach of darts, to strip him of his arms; Yet dropped him soon, for brave Agenor saw, And, as he stooped to drag the body, hurled His brazen spear and pierced the uncovered side Seen underneath the shield. At once his limbs Relaxed their hold, and straight the spirit fled. Then by the hand of Ajax Telamon Fell Simoïsius, in the bloom of youth, Anthemion's son. His mother once came down From Ida, with her parents, to their flocks Beside the Simoïs; there she brought him forth Upon its banks, and gave her boy the name Of Simoïsius. Unrequited now Was all the care with which his parents nursed His early years, and short his term of life, - Slain by the hand of Ajax, large of soul. For, when he saw him coming, Ajax smote Near the right pap the Trojan's breast; the blade Passed through, and out upon the further side. He fell among the dust of earth, as falls A poplar growing in the watery soil Of some wide marsh, - a fair, smooth bole, with boughs Only on high, which with his gleaming axe Some artisan has felled to bend its trunk Into the circle of some chariot-wheel; Withering it lies upon the river's bank. So did the high-born Ajax spoil the corpse Of Simoïsius, Anthemion's son. But Antiphus, the son of Priam, clad In shining armor, saw, and, taking aim, Cast his sharp spear at Ajax through the crowd. The weapon struck him not, but pierced the groin Of one who was Ulysses' faithful friend, - Leucus, -as from the spot he dragged the dead; He fell, the body dropping from his hold. Ulysses, stung with fury at his fall, Rushed to the van, arrayed in shining brass, Drew near the foe, and, casting a quick glance Around him, hurled his glittering spear. The host Of Trojans, as it left his hand, shrank back Upon each other. Not in vain it flew, But struck Democoon, the spurious son Of Priam, who, to join the war, had left Abydos, where he tended the swift mares. Ulysses, to revenge his comrade's death, Smote him upon the temple with his spear. Through both the temples passed the brazen point, And darkness gathered o'er his eyes; he fell, His armor clashing round him with his fall. Then did the foremost bands, and Hector's self, Fall back. The Argives shouted, dragging off The slain, and rushing to the ground they won. Then was Apollo angered, looking down From Pergamus, and thus he called aloud :- "Rally, ye Trojans! tamers of fleet steeds! Yield not the battle to the Greeks. Their limbs Are not of stone or iron, to withstand The trenchant steel ye wield. Nor does the son Of fair-haired Thetis now, Achilles, take Part in the battle, but sits, brooding o'er The choler that devours him, in his ships." Thus from the city spake the terrible god. Meantime Tritonian Pallas, glorious child Of Jupiter, went through the Grecian ranks Where'er they wavered, and revived their zeal. Diores, son of Amarynceus, then Met his hard fate. The fragment of a rock Was thrown by hand at his right leg, and struck The ankle. Piroüs, son of Imbrasus, . Who came from Æneus, leading to the war His Thracian soldiers, flung it; and it crushed Tendons and bones, and down the warrior fell In dust, and toward his comrades stretched his hands, And gasped for breath. But he who gave the wound, Piroüs, came up and pierced him with his spear. Forth gushed the entrails, and the eyes grew dark. But Piroüs by Ætolian Thoas fell, Who met him with his spear and pierced his breast Above the pap. The brazen weapon stood Fixed in the lungs. Then Thoas came and plucked The massive spear away, and drew his sword, And thrusting through him the sharp blade, he took His life away. Yet could he not despoil The slain man of his armor, for around His comrades thronged, the Thracians, with their tufts Of streaming hair, and, wielding their long spears, Drove him away. And he, though huge of limb, And valiant and renowned, was forced to yield To numbers pressing on him, and withdrew. Thus near each other stretched upon the ground Piroüs, the leader of the Thracian band, And he who led the Epeans, brazen-mailed Diores, lay with many others slain. Then could no man, who near at hand beheld The battle of that day, see cause of blame In aught, although, unwounded and unbruised By weapons, Pallas led him by the hand In safety through the midst, and turned aside The violence of javelins; for that day Saw many a Trojan slain, and many a Greek, Stretched side by side upon the bloody field.
BOOK V. THEN Pallas to Tydides Diomed Gave strength and courage, that he might appear Among the Achaians greatly eminent, And win a glorious name. Upon his head And shield she caused a constant flame to play, Like to the autumnal star that shines in heaven Most brightly when new-bathed in ocean tides. Such light she caused to beam upon his crest And shoulders, as she sent the warrior forth Into the thick and tumult of the fight. Among the Trojans, Dares was the priest Of Vulcan, rich and blameless. His two sons Were Phegeus and Idæus, trained in all The arts of war. They left the host and came To meet Tydides, - on the chariot they, And he on foot; and now, as they drew near, First Phegeus hurled his massive lance. It flew O'er Diomed's left shoulder and struck not. Tydides cast in turn his brazen spear; Nor did the weapon leave his hand in vain, But smote the breast of Phegeus in the midst And dashed him from his car. Idæus saw, And leaped to earth and left the sumptuous car, Nor dared to guard the slain. Yet had he not Escaped from death, if Vulcan, shrouding him In darkness, had not borne him from the fight And rescued him, that so he might not leave The aged man, his father, desolate. The son of mighty Tydeus took the steeds And bade his comrades lead them to the fleet. Meantime the blue-eyed Pallas took the hand Of Mars, and thus addressed the fiery god:- "Mars, Mars, thou slayer of men, thou steeped in blood, Destroyer of walled cities! should we not Leave both the Greeks and Trojans to contend, And Jove to crown with glory whom he will, While we retire, lest we provoke his wrath?" Thus having said, she led the violent Mars From where the battle raged, and made him sit Beside Scamander, on its grassy bank. And then the Achaians put the sons of Troy To flight: each leader slew a foe; and first The king of men, Atrides, from his car Struck down the huge-limbed Hodius, who was chief Among the Halizonians. As he turned To flee, the Achaian, smiting him between The shoulders, drove the javelin through his breast. Heavily clashed his armor as he fell. Then by Idomeneus was Phæstus slain, Son of Meonian Borus, who had come From Tarna, rich in harvests. As he sprang Into his car, Idomeneus, expert To wield the ponderous javelin, thrust its blade Through his right shoulder. From the car he fell, And the dark night of death came over him. The Achaian warriors following spoiled the slain. The son of Atreus, Menelaus, slew With his sharp spear Scamandrius, the son Of Strophius, practised in the forest chase, A mighty hunter. Him had Dian taught To strike whatever beast the woody wild Breeds on the hills; but now availed him not The favor of Diana, archer-queen, Nor skill to throw the javelin afar; For Menelaus, mighty with the spear, Followed him as he fled, and in the back Smote him, between the shoulder-blades, and drave The weapon through. He fell upon the ground Headlong, his armor clashing as he fell. And then Meriones slew Phereclus, Son of Harmonius, the artificer, Who knew to shape all works of rare device, For Pallas loved him. It was he who built The fleet for Paris, - cause of many woes To all the Trojans and to him, - for ill He understood the oracles of heaven. Him did Meriones, pursuing long, O'ertake, and, smiting him on the right hip, Pierced through the part beneath the bone and near The bladder. On his knees with sad lament He fell, and death involved him in its shade. And then by Meges was Pedacus slain, Antenor's base-born son, whom Threno reared - The noble Threno - with as fond a care As her own children, for her husband's sake. And now the mighty spearman, Phyleus' son, Drew near and smote him with his trenchant lance Where meet the head and spine, and pierced the neck Beneath the tongue; and forth the weapon came Between the teeth. He fell, and in the fall Gnashed with his teeth upon the cold bright blade. Then did Evæmon's son Eurypylus Strike down Hypsenor, nobly born, the son Of great Dolopion, Scamander's priest, Whom all the people honored as a god. Evæmon's gallant son, o'ertaking him In flight, with one stroke of his falchion hewed His brawny arm away. The bloody limb Dropped to the ground, and the dark night of death Came o'er his eyes: so cruel fate decreed. Thus toiled the heroes in that stubborn fight. Nor would you now have known to which array - Trojan or Greek - Tydides might belong; For through the field he rushed with furious speed, Like a swollen river when its current takes The torrent's swiftness, scattering with a sweep The bridges; nor can massive dikes withstand Its fury, nor embankments raised to screen The grassy meadows, while the rains of Jove Fall heavily, and harvests, late the joy Of toiling youth, are beaten to the ground. Thus by Tydides the close phalanxes Of Troy were scattered, nor could they endure, All numerous as they were, his strong assault. As Pandarus, Lycaon's eminent son, Beheld Tydides rush athwart the field, Breaking the ranks, he drew his crooked bow And smote the chief's left shoulder as he came, Striking the hollow corslet. The sharp point Broke through, and blood came gushing o'er the mail. Then called aloud Lycaon's eminent son:- "Brave Trojans, great in mastery of steeds, Press on; the bravest of the Grecian host Is smitten, nor, I think, can long survive The grievous wound, if it be true that I, At the command of Phœbus, son of Jove, Have left my home upon the Lycian shore." Thus boastfully he spake; but his swift shaft Slew not Tydides, who had now withdrawn. And, standing by his steeds and chariot, spake To Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus:- "Haste down, kind Sthenelus, and with thy hand Draw the sharp arrow from my shoulder here.” He spake, and Sthenelus at once leaped down, Stood by his side, and from his shoulder drew The winged arrow deeply fixed within. The blood flowed forth upon the twisted rings Of mail, while Diomed, the valiant, prayed:- "Hear me, O child of ægis-bearing Jove, Goddess invincible! if ever thou Didst aid me or my father in the heat Of battle, aid me, Pallas, yet again. Give me to slay this Trojan; bring him near, Within my javelin's reach, who wounded me, And now proclaims- the boaster —that not long Shall I behold the brightness of the sun." So prayed he, and Minerva heard his prayer And lightened all his limbs, - his feet, his hands, - And, standing near him, spake these winged words:- "War boldly with the Trojans, Diomed; For even now I breathe into thy frame The ancestral might and fearless soul that dwelt In Tydeus, peerless with the steed and shield. Lo! I remove the darkness from thine eyes, That thou may'st well discern the gods from men; And if a god should tempt thee to the fight, Beware to combat with the immortal race; Only, should Venus, child of Jupiter, Take part in battle, wound her with thy spear." The blue-eyed Pallas spake, and disappeared; And Diomed went back into the field And mingled with the warriors. If before His spirit moved him fiercely to engage The men of Troy, a threefold courage now Inspired him. As a lion who has leaped Into a fold-and he who guards the flock Has wounded but not slain him - feels his rage Waked by the blow; - the affrighted shepherd then Ventures not near, but hides within the stalls, And the forsaken sheep are put to flight, And, huddling, slain in heaps, till o'er the fence The savage bounds into the fields again; - Such was Tydides midst the sons of Troy. Astynoüs first he slew, Hypenor next, The shepherd of the people. One he pierced High on the bosom with his brazen spear, And smote the other on the collar-bone With his good sword, and hewed from neck and spine The shoulder. There he left the dead, and rushed To Abas and to Polyeidus, sons Of old Eurydamas, interpreter Of visions. Ill the aged man had read His visions when they joined the war. They died, And Diomed, the valiant, spoiled the slain. Xanthus and Thoön he encountered next, The sons of Phænops, born in his old age. No other child had he, to be his heir, And he was worn with length of years. These two Tydides smote and took their lives, and left Grief to their father and regretful cares, Since he no more should welcome their return From war, and strangers should divide his wealth. Then smote he Chromius and Echemon, sons Of Dardan Priam, in one chariot both. As on a herd of beeves a lion springs While midst the shrubs they browse, and breaks their necks, Heifer or ox, - so sprang he on the twain And struck them, vainly struggling, from their car, And spoiled them of their arms, and took their steeds, And bade his comrades lead them to the fleet. Æneas, who beheld him scattering thus The embattled ranks before him, straightway went Through the thick fight, amid encountering spears, In search of godlike Pandarus. He found Lycaon's blameless and illustrious son, And stood before him, and addressed him thus:- "Where is thy bow, O Pandarus, and where Thy winged arrows? Where the old renown In which no warrior here can vie with thee, And none upon the Lycian shore can boast That he excels thee? Hasten, and lift up Thy hands in prayer to Jupiter, and send An arrow at this man, whoe'er he be, Who thus prevails, and thus afflicts our host, And makes the knees of many a strong man weak. Strike him, unless he be some god incensed At Troy for sacrifice withheld, since hard It is to bear the anger of a god.” Lycaon's son, the far-renowned, replied: - "Æneas, leader of the Trojans mailed In brass, to me this man in all things seems Like warlike Diomed. I know his shield, High helm, and steeds, and yet I may not say That this is not a god. But if he be The chief of whom I speak, the warlike son Of Tydeus, not thus madly would he fight, Without some god to aid him. By his side Is one of the immortals, with a cloud About his shoulders, turning from its aim The swiftly flying arrow. 'T was but late I aimed a shaft that pierced the hollow mail On his left shoulder, and I thought him sent To Pluto, but I slew him not. Some god Must be offended with me. I have here No steeds or car to mount. Far off at home There stand within Lycaon's palace-walls Eleven chariots, fair and fresh and new: Each has an ample cover, and by each Are horses yoked in pairs, that champ their oats And their white barley. When I left my home, Lycaon, aged warrior, counselled me, Within his sumptuous halls, that with my steeds And chariot I should lead the sons of Troy In the fierce battle. I obeyed him not: Far better if I had. I wished to spare My horses, lest, so largely fed at home, They might want food in the beleaguered town. So, leaving them, I came on foot to Troy, Confiding in my bow, which yet was doomed To avail me little, for already I Have smitten with my arrows the two chiefs, Tydides and Atrides, and from both Drew the red blood, but only made their rage To flame the fiercer. In an evil hour I took my bow and quiver from the wall And came to lead the Trojans for the sake Of Hector. But if ever I return To see my native country and my wife And my tall spacious mansion, may some foe Strike off my head if with these hands I fail To break my bow in pieces, casting it Into the flames, a useless weapon now." The Trojan chief Æneas, answering, said: - "Nay, talk not so; it cannot but be thus, Until upon a chariot, and with steeds, We try our prowess with this man in war. Haste, mount my chariot here, and thou shalt see How well are Trojan horses trained to range The field of battle, in the swift pursuit Hither and thither, or in rapid flight; And they shall bring us safely to the town Should Jove a second time bestow the meed Of glory on Tydides. Haste, and take The lash and well-wrought reins, while I descend To fight on foot; or haply thou wilt wait The foe's advance while I direct the steeds." Then spake again Lycaon's eminent son: - "Keep thou the reins, Æneas, and still guide The horses. With their wonted charioteer, The better shall they bear away the car Should we be forced to fly before the arm Of Diomed; lest, taking flight, they range Unmastered when they hear thy voice no more, Nor bear us from the combat, and the son Of Tydeus, having slain us, shall lead thence Thy firm-hoofed coursers. Therefore guide them still, Them and the chariot, while, with this keen spear, I wait the Greek, as he is rushing on." They spake, and, climbing the magnificent car, Turned toward Tydides the swift-footed steeds. The noble son of Capaneus beheld, And said in winged words to Diomed: - "Tydides Diomed, most dear of men! I see two warriors, strong, immensely strong, Coming to combat with thee. Pandarus Is one, the skilled in archery, who boasts To be Lycaon's son; and by his side There comes Æneas, glorying that he sprang From the large-souled Anchises, -borne to him By Venus. Mount we now our car and leave The ground, nor in thy fury rush along The van of battle, lest thou lose thy life." The brave Tydides, with a frown, replied: - "Speak not of flight; thou canst not yet persuade My mind to that. To skulk or shrink with fear In battle ill becomes me, and my strength Is unexhausted yet. It suits me not To mount the chariot; I will meet the foe Just as I am. Minerva will not let My spirit falter. Ne'er shall those swift steeds Bear the two warriors hence, - if even one Escapes me. One thing more have I to say; And keep it well in mind. Should Pallas deign- The wise, forecasting Pallas - to bestow On me the glory of o'ercoming both, Stop thy swift horses, and tie fast the reins To our own chariot, and make haste to seize The horses of Æneas, guiding them Hence from the Trojan to the Grecian host; For they are of the stock which Jupiter The Thunderer gave to Tros. It was the price He paid for Ganymede, and they, of all Beneath the eye of morning and the sun, Are of the choicest breed. The king of men, Anchises, stealthily and unobserved, Brought to the coursers of Laomedon His brood-mare, and obtained the race. Six colts, Their offspring, in his courts were foaled. Of these, Four for himself he kept, and in his stalls Reared them, and two of them, both apt for war, He gave Æneas. If we make them ours, The exploit will bring us honor and renown." Thus they conferred. Meantime their foes drew near, Urging their fiery coursers on, and first Lycaon's eminent son addressed the Greek: — "My weapon, swift and sharp, the arrow, failed To slay thee; let me try the javelin now, And haply that, at least, may reach its mark." He spake, and, brandishing his massive spear, Hurled it against the shield of Diomed. The brazen point broke through, and reached the mail. Then shouted with loud voice Lycaon's son:- "Ha! thou art wounded in thy flank; my spear Bites deep; nor long, I think, canst thou survive, And great will be my glory gained from thee." But thus the valiant Diomed replied, Incapable of fear: "Thy thought is wrong. I am not wounded, and I well perceive That ye will never give the conflict o'er Till one of you, laid low amid the dust, Pour out his blood to glut the god of war." He spake, and cast his spear. Minerva kept The weapon faithful to its aim. It struck The nose, and near the eye; then passing on Betwixt the teeth, the unrelenting edge Cleft at its root the tongue; the point came out Beneath the chin. The warrior from his car Fell headlong; his bright armor, fairly wrought, Clashed round him as he fell; his fiery steeds Started aside with fright; his breath and strength Were gone at once. Æneas, with his shield And his long spear, leaped down to guard the slain, That the Achaians might not drag him thence. There, lion-like, confiding in his strength, He stalked around the corpse, and over it Held his round shield and lance, prepared to slay Whoever came, and shouting terribly. Tydides raised a stone, - a mighty weight, Such as no two men living now could lift; But he, alone, could swing it round with ease. With this he smote Æneas on the hip, Where the thigh joins its socket. By the blow He brake the socket and the tendons twain, And tore the skin with the rough, jagged stone. The hero fell upon his knees, but stayed His fall with his strong palm upon the ground; And o'er his eyes a shadow came like night. Then had the king of men, Æneas, died, But for Jove's daughter, Venus, who perceived His danger instantly, - his mother, she Who bore him to Anchises when he kept His beeves, a herdsman. Round her son she cast Her white arms, spreading over him in folds Her shining robe, to be a fence against The weapons of the foe, lest some Greek knight Should at his bosom aim the steel to take His life. And thus the goddess bore away From that fierce conflict her beloved son. Nor did the son of Capaneus forget The bidding of the warlike Diomed, But halted his firm-footed steeds apart From the great tumult, with the long reins stretched And fastened to the chariot. Next, he sprang To seize the horses with fair-flowing manes, That drew the chariot of Eneas. These He drave away, far from the Trojan host, To the well-greaved Achaians, giving them In charge, to lead them to the hollow ships, To his beloved friend Deïpylus, Whom he of all his comrades honored most, As likest to himself in years and mind. And then he climbed his car and took the reins, And, swiftly drawn by his firm-footed steeds, Followed Tydides, who with cruel steel Sought Venus, knowing her unapt for war, And all unlike the goddesses who guide The battles of mankind, as Pallas does, Or as Bellona, ravager of towns. O'ertaking her at last, with long pursuit, Amid the throng of warring men, the son Of warlike Tydeus aimed at her his spear, And wounded in her hand the delicate one With its sharp point. It pierced the ambrosial robe, Wrought for her by the Graces, at the spot Where the palm joins the wrist, and broke the skin, And drew immortal blood, - the ichor, - such As from the blessed gods may flow; for they Eat not the wheaten loaf, nor drink dark wine; And therefore they are bloodless, and are called Immortal. At the stroke the goddess shrieked, And dropped her son. Apollo in his arms Received and in a dark cloud rescued him, Lest any of the Grecian knights should aim A weapon at his breast to take his life. Meantime the brave Tydides cried aloud:- "Leave wars and battle, goddess. Is it not Enough that thou delude weak womankind? Yet, if thou ever shouldst return, to bear A part in battle, thou shalt have good cause To start with fear, when war is only named." He spake; and she departed, wild with pain, For grievously she suffered. Instantly Fleet-footed Iris took her by the hand And led her from the place, her heart oppressed With anguish and her fair cheek deathly pale. She found the fiery Mars, who had withdrawn From that day's combat to the left, and sat, His spear and his swift coursers hid from sight, In darkness. At his feet she fell, and prayed Her brother fervently, that he would lend His steeds that stood in trappings wrought of gold : - "Dear brother, aid me; let me have thy steeds To bear me to the Olympian mount, the home Of gods, for grievously the wound I bear Afflicts me. 'T was a mortal gave the wound, - Tydides, who would even fight with Jove." She spake; and Mars resigned to her his steeds With trappings of bright gold. She climbed the car, Still grieving, and, beside her, Iris took Her seat, and caught the reins and plied the lash. On flew the coursers, on, with willing speed, And soon were at the mansion of the gods On high Olympus. There the active-limbed, Fleet Iris stayed them, loosed them from the car, And fed them with ambrosial food. Meanwhile, The goddess Venus at Dione's feet Had cast herself. The mother round her child Threw tenderly her arms, and with her hand Caressed her brow, and spake, and thus inquired: - "Which of the dwellers of the skies, dear child, Has dealt thus cruelly with thee, as one Caught in the doing of some flagrant wrong?" And thus did Venus, queen of smiles, reply: - "The son of Tydeus, arrogant Diomed, Wounded me as I sought to bear away From battle's dangers my beloved son Æneas, dear beyond all other men: For now no longer does the battle rage Between the Greeks and Trojans, but the Greeks Venture to combat even with the gods." Dione, great among the goddesses, Rejoined: "Submit, my daughter, and endure, Though inly grieved; for many of us who dwell Upon the Olympian mount have suffered much From mortals, and have brought great miseries Upon each other. First, it was the fate Of Mars to suffer, when Aloëus' sons, Otus and mighty Ephialtes, made Their fetters fast upon his limbs. He lay Chained thirteen months within a brazen cell; And haply there the god, whose thirst of blood Is never cloyed, had perished, but for aid Which Eribœa gave, the beautiful, His step-mother. She made his miseries known To Mercury, who set him free by stealth, Withered and weak with long imprisonment. And Juno suffered when Amphitryon's son, The valiant, dared to plant in her right breast A three-pronged arrow, and she writhed with pain. And Pluto suffered, when the hero-son Of ægis-bearing Jove, with a swift shaft, Smote him beside the portals of the dead, And left him filled with pain. He took his way To high Olympus and the home of Jove, Grieving and racked with pain, for deep the dart Had pierced his brawny shoulder, torturing him. There Pæan with his pain-dispelling balms Healed him, for he was not of mortal race. O daring man and reckless, to make light Of such impieties, and violate The sacred persons of the Olympian gods! It was the blue-eyed Pallas who stirred up Tydides to assail thee thus. The fool! He knew not that the man who dares to meet The gods in combat lives not long. No child Shall prattling call him father when he comes Returning from the dreadful tasks of war. Let then Tydides, valiant though he be, Beware lest a more potent foe than thou Encounter him, and lest the nobly-born Ægialeia, in some night to come- Wise daughter of Adrastus, and the spouse Of the horse-tamer Diomed - call up The servants of her household from their sleep, Bewailing him to whom in youth she gave Her maiden troth, - the bravest of the Greeks." She spake, and wiped the ichor from the hand Of Venus; at her touch the hand was healed And the pain left it. Meantime Pallas stood, With Juno, looking on, both teasing Jove With words of sarcasm. Blue-eyed Pallas thus Addressed the god: "O Father Jupiter, Wilt thou be angry at the word I speak? - As Venus, wheedling some Achaian dame To join the host she loves, the sons of Troy, Caressed the fair, arrayed in gay attire, A golden buckle scratched her tender hand." As thus she spake, the Father of the gods And mortals, calling golden Venus near, Said, with a smile: "Nay, daughter, not for thee Are tasks of war; be gentle marriage-rites Thy care; the labors of the battle-field Pertain to Pallas and the fiery Mars." Thus with each other talked the gods, while still The great in battle, Diomed, pursued Æneas, though he knew that Phœbus stretched His arm to guard the warrior. Small regard Had he for the great god, and much he longed To strike Æneas down and bear away The glorious arms he wore; and thrice he rushed To slay the Trojan, thrice Apollo smote Upon his glittering shield. But when he made The fourth assault, as if he were a god, The archer of the skies, Apollo, thus With menacing words rebuked him: "Diomed, Beware; desist, nor think to make thyself The equal of a god. The deathless race Of gods is not as those who walk the earth." He spake; the son of Tydeus, shrinking back, Gave way before the anger of the god Who sends his shafts afar. Then Phœbus bore Æneas from the tumult to the height Of sacred Pergamus, where stands his fane; And there Latona and the archer-queen, Diana, in the temple's deep recess, Tended him and brought back his glorious strength. Meantime the bowyer-god, Apollo, formed An image of Æneas, armed like him, Round which the Trojans and Achaians thronged With many a heavy weapon-stroke that fell Upon the huge orbs of their ox-hide shields And lighter bucklers. Now to fiery Mars Apollo spake: "Mars, Mars, thou plague of men, Thou steeped in blood, destroyer of walled towns! Wilt thou not force this man to leave the field? Wilt thou not meet in arms this daring son Of Tydeus, who would even fight with Jove? Already has he wounded, in close fight, The goddess Venus at the wrist, and since Assaulted me as if he were a god." He said, and on the heights of Pergamus Sat down, while the destroyer Mars went forth Among the embattled Trojan ranks, to rouse Their valor. In the form of Acamus, The gallant Thracian leader, he bespake The sons of Jove-descended Priam thus: - "O sons of Priam, him who claims descent From Jupiter! how long will ye submit To see your people slaughtered by the Greeks? Is it until the battle-storm shall reach Your city's stately portals? Even now A hero whom we honor equally With the great Hector, our Æneas, son Of the large-souled Anchises, is struck down. Haste, let us rescue our beloved friend." He spake, and into every heart his words Carried new strength and courage. In that hour Sarpedon chid the noble Hector thus : - "Where is the prowess, Hector, which was thine So lately? Thou hast said that thou alone, Thy kindred and thy brothers, could defend The city, without armies or allies. Now I see none of these; they all, like hounds Before a lion, crouch and slink away, While the confederates bear the brunt of war. I am but an auxiliar come from far, From Lycia, where the eddying Xanthus runs. There left I a beloved wife, and there An infant child, and large possessions, such As poor men covet. Yet do I exhort My Lycians to the combat, and myself Would willingly engage this foe of Troy, Although I here have nothing which the Greeks Might bear or drive away. Thou standest still, Meanwhile, nor dost thou bid the rest to keep Their ground and bear the battle for their wives. Yet have a care, lest, as if caught at length In the strong meshes of a mighty net, Ye find yourselves the captives and the prey Of enemies, who quickly will destroy Your nobly-peopled city. These are thoughts That should engage thy mind by night and day, And thou shouldst beg the chiefs of thine allies, Called to thy aid from far, that manfully They meet the foe, and foil his fierce attack, And take the cause of this reproach away." Sarpedon spake; and Hector, all in arms, Stung by his words, and leaping from his car, Brandished his spears, and went among the hosts And rallied them to battle. Terrible The conflict that ensued. The men of Troy Made head against the Greeks: the Greeks stood firm, Nor ever thought of flight. As when the wind Strews chaff about the sacred threshing-floors While wheat is winnowed, and before the breeze The yellow Ceres separates the grain From its light husk, which gathers in white heaps, - Even so the Greeks were whitened o'er with dust Raised in that tumult by the horses' hoofs And rising to the brazen firmament, As toward the fight the charioteers again Urged on their coursers. Yet the Greeks withstood The onset, and struck forward with strong arms. Meantime the furious Mars involved the field In darkness, to befriend the sons of Troy, And went through all the ranks, and well fulfilled The mandate which Apollo gave the god Who wields the golden falchion, bidding him Kindle the courage of the Trojan host Whene'er he saw the auxiliar of the Greeks, Minerva, leave the combat. Then the god Brought from the sanctuary's inner shrine Æneas, filling with recovered strength That shepherd of the people. He beside His comrades placed himself, and they rejoiced To see him living and unharmed and strong As ever; yet they questioned not; their task Was different, set them by the god who bears The silver bow, and Mars the slayer of men, And raging Strife that never is appeased. The Ajaces and Ulysses and the son Of Tydeus roused the Achaians to the fight. For of the strength and clamor of the foe They felt no fear, but calmly stood, to bide The assault; as stand in air the quiet clouds Which Saturn's son upon the mountain-tops Piles in still volumes when the north wind sleeps, And every ruder breath of blustering air That drives the gathered vapors through the sky. Thus calmly waited they the Trojan host, Nor thought of flight. And now Atrides passed In haste along their ranks, and gave command: - "O friends, be men, and let your hearts be strong, And let no warrior in the heat of fight Do what may bring him shame in others' eyes; For more of those who shrink from shame are safe Than fall in battle, while with those who flee Is neither glory nor reprieve from death." So spake the king, and hurled his spear and smote Deïcoön, the son of Pergasis, A chief, and a companion in the war Of the great-souled Æneas. He in Troy Was honored as men honored Priam's sons, For he was ever foremost in the fight. The weapon struck his shield, yet stopped not there, But, breaking through its folds and through the belt, Transfixed the part beneath. The Trojan fell To earth, his armor clashing with his fall. Æneas slew the sons of Diocles, — Orsilochus and Crethon, eminent Greeks. Their father dwelt in Pheræ nobly built, Amid his riches. From Alpheius he Derived his race, - a river whose long stream Flows through the meadows of the Pylian land. Orsilochus was to Alpheius born, Lord over many men, and he became The father of great Diocles, to whom Twin sons were born, well trained in all the arts Of warfare, - Crethon and Orsilochus. These, in the prime of youth, with their black ships Followed the Argives to the coast of Troy Famed for its generous steeds. They left their home To vindicate the honor of the sons Of Atreus, - Agamemnon, king of men, And Menelaus, - but they found their death. As two young lions, nourished by their dam Amid the thickets of some mighty wood, Seizing the beeves and fattened sheep, lay waste The stables, till at length themselves are slain By trenchant weapons in the shepherd's hand, So by the weapons of Æneas died These twain; they fell as lofty fir-trees fall. But now, when Menelaus saw their fate, The mighty warrior, deeply sorrowing, rushed Among the foremost, armed in glittering brass, And brandishing his spear; for Mars had roused His soul to fury, trusting he would meet Æneas, and would perish by his hand. Antilochus, the generous Nestor's son, Came also to the van, for anxiously He feared mischance might overtake the king, To make the toils of their long warfare vain; And there he found the combatants prepared For battle, with their trusty spears in hand, And standing face to face. At once he took His stand beside the monarch of the Greeks. At sight of the two warriors side by side, All valiant as he was, Æneas shunned The encounter. They, when they had drawn the dead Among the Grecian ranks, and to their friends Given up the hapless brothers, turned to take Their place among the foremost in the fight. Then, too, Pylæmenes, a chief like Mars, And leader of the Paphlagonian host, - A valiant squadron armed with shields, - was slain. Atrides Menelaus, skilled to wield The javelin, gave his death-wound. He transfixed The shoulder at the collar-bone. Meanwhile Antilochus against his charioteer, Mydon, the brave son of Atymnias, hurled A stone that smote his elbow as he wheeled His firm-paced steeds in flight. He dropped the reins, Gleaming with ivory as they trailed in dust. Antilochus leaped forward, smiting him Upon the temples with his sword. He fell Gasping amidst the sand, his head immersed Up to his shoulders, - for the sand was deep, — And there remained till he was beaten down Before the horses' hoofs. Antilochus, Lashing the horses, drave them to the Greeks. Hector beheld, and, springing with loud shouts, Stood mid the wavering ranks. The phalanxes Of the brave Trojans followed him, for Mars And terrible Bellona led them on, - Bellona bringing Tumult in her train, And Mars with brandished lance-a mighty weight- Now stalking after Hector, now before. Him when the valiant Diomed beheld, He trembled; and, as one who, journeying Along a way he knows not, having crossed A place of drear extent, before him sees A river rushing swiftly toward the deep, And all its tossing current white with foam, And stops and turns, and measures back his way, So then did Diomed withdraw, and spake: "O friends, how greatly must we all admire This noble Hector, mighty with the spear And terrible in war. There is some god Forever near him, warding off the stroke Of death; beside him yonder even now Stands Mars in semblance of a mortal man. Yield, then, and with your faces toward the foe Fall back, and strive not with the gods of heaven." Even as he spake, the Trojan host drew near, And Hector slew two warriors trained to arms, - Menesthes and Anchialus, - who came Both in one chariot to the war. Their fall Ajax, the son of Telamon, beheld, And pitied, and drew near, and stood, and hurled His glittering spear. It smote Ampheius, son Of Selagus, who, rich in lands and goods, Abode in Pæsus. In an evil hour He joined the cause of Priam and his sons. Him at the belt the spear of Ajax smote, And pierced the bowels. With a crash he fell. Then hastened mighty Ajax to strip off The armor, but the Trojans at him cast Their pointed spears that glittered as they flew, And many struck his shield. He pressed his heel Against the slain, and from the body drew His brazen spear, but could not from the breast Loose the bright mail, so thick the weapons came, And such the wary dread with which he saw The bravest of the Trojans closing round, Many and fierce, and all with spears outstretched; And he, though strong and valiant and renowned, Driven from the ground, gave way to mightier force. So toiled the warriors through that stubborn fight, When cruel fate urged on Tlepolemus, The great and valiant son of Hercules, To meet Sarpedon, mighty as a god. And now, as each to each advanced, - the son And grandson of the cloud-compeller Jove, - Thus first Tlepolemus addressed his foe: - "Sarpedon, Lycian monarch, what has brought Thee hither, trembling thus, and inexpert In battle? Lying flatterers are they That call thee son of Jupiter who bears The ægis; for unlike the heroes thou, Born to the Thunderer in times of old, Nor like my daring father, Hercules The lion-hearted, who once came to Troy To claim the coursers of Laomedon. With but six ships, and warriors but a few, He laid the city waste and made its streets A desolation. Thou art weak of heart, And round thee are thy people perishing; Yet, even wert thou brave, thy presence here From Lycia's coast would prove of small avail To Troy; for, slain in combat here by me, Thou to the gates of Hades shalt go down." Sarpedon, leader of the Lycians, thus Made answer: "True it is, Tlepolemus, That he laid waste the sacred city of Troy For the base dealings of Laomedon, The monarch who with railing words repaid His great deservings, and kept back the steeds For which he came so far. But thou - thy fate Is slaughter and black death from this my spear; And fame will come to me, and one more soul Go down to Hades." As Sarpedon spake, Tlepolemus upraised his ashen spear, And from the hands of both the chiefs at once Their massive weapons flew. Sarpedon smote Full in the throat his foe; the cruel point Passed through the neck, and night came o'er his eyes. Tlepolemus, in turn, on the left thigh Had struck Sarpedon with his ponderous lance. The weapon, cast with vigorous hand and arm, Pierced deep, and touched the bone; but Jupiter Averted from his son the doom of death. On the other side the well-armed Greeks took up The slain Tlepolemus, to bear him thence. The great Ulysses, large of soul, beheld, And felt his spirit moved, as anxiously He pondered whether to pursue the son Of Jove the Thunderer, or turn and take The life of many a Lycian. Yet to slay Jove's mighty son was not his destiny, And therefore Pallas moved him to engage The crowd of Lycian warriors. Then he slew Cæranus and Alastor, Chromius, Alcander, Halius, and Prytanis Noëmon; and yet more the noble Greek Had slain, if crested Hector, mighty chief, Had not perceived the havoc and, arrayed In shining armor, hurried to the van Of battle, carrying terror to the hearts Of the Achaians. As he saw him near, Sarpedon was rejoiced, yet sadly said: - "O son of Priam, leave me not a prey To these Achaians. Aid me, let me breathe My latest breath in Troy, since I no more Can hope, returning to my native land, To gladden my dear wife and little son." He spake, and crested Hector answered not, Still pressing forward, eager to drive back The Greeks in quick retreat, and take the life Of many a foe. Then did the noble band Who bore the great Sarpedon lay him down Beneath a shapely beech, a tree of Jove The Ægis-bearer. There stout Pelagon, His well-beloved comrade, from his thigh Drew forth the sharp blade of the ashen spear. Then the breath left him, and his eyes were closed In darkness; but the light came back again As, breathing over him, the fresh north wind Revived the spirit in his laboring breast. But not for Mars nor Hector mailed in brass Fled the Achaians to their fleet; nor yet Advanced they on the foe, but step by step Gave way before him, for they had perceived The god of war was with the sons of Troy. Whom first, whom last did Hector, Priam's son, And iron Mars lay low? The godlike chief Teuthras, and-great among the Grecian knights- Orestes, and the Ætolian Trechus, famed As spearman, and Œnomaus, and the son Of Enops, Helemes, and after these Belted Oresbius, who in Hyla made His home, intent on gathering wealth beside 'The Lake Cephissus, on whose borders dwelt Bœotians many, lords of fertile lands. The white-armed goddess Juno, when she saw The Argives falling in that cruel fray, Addressed Minerva with these winged words:- "O thou unconquerable goddess, born To Jove the Ægis-bearer! what is this? It was an idle promise that we made To Menelaus, that he should behold Troy, with its strong defences, overthrown, And reach his home again, if thus we leave Mars the destroyer to his ravages. Come, let us bring our friends effectual aid." So spake she, and her bidding was obeyed By blue-eyed Pallas. Juno the august, Daughter of mighty Saturn, laid in haste The harness, with its ornaments of gold, Upon the horses. Hebe rolled the wheels, Each with eight spokes, and joined them to the ends Of the steel axle, - fellies wrought of gold, Bound with a brazen rim to last for aye, - A wonder to behold. The hollow naves Were silver, and on gold and silver cords Was slung the chariot's seat; in silver hooks Rested the reins, and silver was the pole Where the fair yoke and poitrels, all of gold, Were fastened. Juno, eager for the strife, Led the swift-footed steeds beneath the yoke. Then Pallas, daughter of the god who bears The ægis, on her father's palace-floor Let fall in dainty folds her flowing robe Of many colors, wrought by her own hand, And, putting on the mail of Jupiter The Cloud-compeller, stood arrayed in arms For the stern tasks of war. Her shoulder bore The dreadful ægis with its shaggy brim Bordered with Terror. There was Strife, and there Was Fortitude, and there was fierce Pursuit, And there the Gorgon's head, a ghastly sight, Deformed and dreadful, and a sign of woe When borne by Jupiter. Upon her head She placed a golden helmet with four crests And fair embossed, of strength that might withstand The armed battalions of a hundred towns; Then stepped into her shining car, and took Her massive spear in hand, heavy and huge, With which whole ranks of heroes are o'erthrown Before the daughter of the Mighty One Incensed against them. Juno swung the lash And swiftly urged the steeds. Before their way, On sounding hinges, of their own accord, Flew wide the gates of heaven, which evermore The Hours are watching, - they who keep the mount Olympus and the mighty heaven, with power To open or to close their cloudy veil. Thus through the gates they drave the obedient steeds, And found Saturnius, where he sat apart From other gods, upon the loftiest height Of many-peaked Olympus. Juno there, The white-armed goddess, stayed her chariot-wheels, And, thus accosting Jove, she questioned him:- "O Father Jupiter, does not thy wrath Rise at those violent deeds of Mars? Thou seest How many of the Achaians he has slain, And what brave men. Nay, thus it should not be. Great grief is mine; but Venus and the god Phœbus, who bears the silver bow, rejoice To see this lawless maniac range the field, And urge him on. O Father Jupiter, Wilt thou be angry with me if I drive Mars, sorely wounded, from the battle-field?” The cloud-compelling Jupiter replied:- "Thou hast my leave; but send to encounter him Pallas the spoiler, who has many a time Brought grievous troubles on the god of war." He spake, and white-armed Juno instantly Obeyed him. With the scourge she lashed the steeds, And not unwillingly they flew between Earth and the starry heaven. As much of space As one who gazes on the dark-blue deep Sees from the headland summit where he sits - Such space the coursers of immortal breed Cleared at each bound they made with sounding hoofs; And when they came to Ilium and its streams, Where Simoïs and Scamander's channels meet, The white-armed goddess Juno stayed their speed, And loosed them from the yoke, and covered them With darkness. Simoïs ministered, meanwhile, The ambrosial pasturage on which they fed. On went the goddesses, with step as light As timid doves, and hastened toward the field To aid the Achaian army. When they came Where fought the bravest warriors in a throng Around the great horse-tamer Diomed, Like ravenous lions or wild boars whose rage Is terrible, the white-armed goddess stood, And called aloud, - for now she wore the form Of gallant Stentor, in whose brazen voice Was heard a shout like that of fifty men: - "Shame on you, Argives, - wretches, who in form, And form alone, are heroes. While we yet Had great Achilles in the war, the men Of Ilium dared not pass beyond their gates, So much they feared his mighty spear; but now They push the battle to our hollow ships, Far from the town." As thus the goddess spake, New strength and courage woke in every breast. Then blue-eyed Pallas hastened to the son Of Tydeus. By his steeds she found the king, And by his chariot, as he cooled the wound Made by the shaft of Pandarus. The sweat Beneath the ample band of his round shield Had weakened him, and weary was his arm. He raised the band, and from the wounded limb Wiped off the clotted blood. The goddess laid Her hand upon the chariot-yoke, and said: - "Tydeus hath left a son unlike himself; For he, though low in stature, was most brave; And when he went, an envoy and alone, To Thebes, the populous Cadmean town, And I, enjoining him to keep aloof From wars and rash encounters, bade him sit Quietly at the feasts in palace-halls, Still, to his valiant temper true, he gave Challenges to the Theban youths, and won The prize with ease in all their games, such aid I gave him. Now I stand by thee in turn, Protect thee, and exhort thee manfully To fight against the Trojans; but to-day Either the weariness of toil unnerves Thy frame, or withering fear besets thy heart. Henceforth we cannot deem thee, as of late, The offspring of Enides skilled in war." And then the valiant Diomed replied: - "I know thee, goddess, daughter of great Jove The Ægis-bearer; therefore will I speak Freely and keep back nothing. No base fear Unmans me, nor desire of ease; but well I bear in mind the mandate thou hast given. Thou didst forbid me to contend with gods, Except that if Jove's daughter, Venus, joined The battle, I might wound her with my spear. But now I have withdrawn, and given command That all the Greeks come hither; for I see That Mars is in the field and leads the war." Again the blue-eyed Pallas, answering, said: - "Tydides Diomed, most dear of men, Nay, fear thou nothing from this Mars, nor yet From any other of the gods; for I Will be thy sure defence. First urge thy course Full against Mars, with thy firm-footed steeds. Engage him hand to hand; respect him not, — The fiery, frantic Mars, the unnatural plague Of man, the fickle god, who promised me And Juno, lately, to take part with us Against the Trojans and befriend the Greeks. Now he forgets, and joins the sons of Troy." She spake, and laid her hand on Sthenelus, To draw him from the horses; instantly He leaped to earth; the indignant deity Took by the side of Diomed her place; The beechen axle groaned beneath the weight Of that great goddess and that man of might. Then Pallas seized the lash and caught the reins, And, urging the firm-footed coursers, drave Full against Mars, who at that moment slew Huge Periphas, the mightiest one of all The Ætolian band, - Ochesius' famous son. While bloody-handed Mars was busy yet About the slain, Minerva hid her face In Pluto's helmet, that the god might fail To see her. As that curse of humankind Beheld the approach of noble Diomed, He left the corpse of Periphas unspoiled Where he had fallen, and where he breathed his last, And came in haste to meet the Grecian knight. And now, when they were near, and face to face, Mars o'er the chariot-yoke and horses' reins First hurled his brazen spear, in hope to take His enemy's life; but Pallas with her hand Caught it and turned it, so that it flew by And gave no wound. The valiant Diomed Made with his brazen spear the next assault, And Pallas guided it to strike the waist Where girded by the baldric. In that part She wounded Mars, and tore the shining skin, And drew the weapon back. The furious god Uttered a cry as of nine thousand men, Or of ten thousand, rushing to the fight. The Greeks and Trojans stood aghast with fear, To hear that terrible cry of him whose thirst Of bloodshed never is appeased by blood. As when, in time of heat, the air is filled With a black shadow from the gathering clouds And the strong-blowing wind, so furious Mars Appeared to Diomed, as in a cloud He rose to the broad heaven and to the home Of gods on high Olympus. Near to Jove He took his seat in bitter grief, and showed The immortal blood still dropping from his wound, And thus, with winged words, complaining said: - "O Father Jupiter! does not thy wrath Rise at these violent deeds? 'Tis ever thus That we, the gods, must suffer grievously From our own rivalry in favoring man; And yet the blame of all this strife is thine, For thou hast a mad daughter, ever wrong, And ever bent on mischief. All the rest Of the immortals dwelling on this mount Obey thee and are subject to thy will. Her only thou hast never yet restrained By word or act, but dost indulge her freaks Because the pestilent creature is thy child. And now she moves the insolent Diomed To raise his hand against the immortal gods. And first he wounded Venus in the wrist, Contending hand to hand; and then he sought To encounter me in arms, as if he were The equal of a god. My own swift feet Carried me thence, else might I long have lain, In anguish, under heaps of carcasses, Or helplessly been mangled by his sword." The Cloud-compeller, Jove, replied, and frowned: "Come not to me, thou changeling, to complain. Of all the gods upon the Olympian mount I like thee least, who ever dost delight In broils and wars and battles. Thou art like Thy mother Juno, headstrong and perverse. Her I can scarcely rule by strict commands, And what thou sufferest now, I deem, is due To her bad counsels. Yet 't is not my will That thou shouldst suffer longer, who dost share My lineage, whom thy mother bore to me. But wert thou born, destroyer as thou art, To any other god, thou hadst long since Lain lower than the sons of Uranus." So spake he, and to Pæan gave command To heal the wound; and Pean bathed the part With pain-dispelling balsams, and it healed; For Mars was not to die. As, when the juice Of figs is mingled with white milk and stirred, The liquid gathers into clots while yet It whirls with the swift motion, so was healed The wound of violent Mars. Then Hebe bathed The god, and robed him richly, and he took His seat, delighted, by Saturnian Jove. Now, having forced the curse of nations, Mars, To pause from slaughter, Argive Juno came, With Pallas, her invincible ally, Back to the mansion of imperial Jove.
BOOK VI. NOW from that stubborn conflict of the Greeks And Trojans had the gods withdrawn. The fight Of men encountering men with brazen spears Still raged from place to place upon the plain Between the Xanthus and the Simoïs. And first of all did Ajax Telamon, The bulwark of the Achaians, break the ranks Of Troy and raise the hopes of those who fought Beside him; for he smote the bravest man Of all the Thracian warriors, - Acamas, Son of Eussorus, strong and large of limb. His spear-head, through the plumed helmet's cone Entering the forehead of the Thracian, pierced The bone, and darkness gathered o'er his eyes. The valiant Diomed slew Axylus, The son of Teuthras. To the war he came From nobly-built Arisba; great his wealth, And greatly was he loved, for courteously He welcomed to his house beside the way All comers. None of these could interpose Between him and his death, for Diomed Slew him and his attendant charioteer, Calysius; both went down below the earth. And then Euryalus struck Dresus down, And smote Opheltius, and went on to slay Æsepus and his brother Pedasus; - A river-nymph, Abarbarea, bore Both children to Bucolion the renowned. Bucolion was the eldest of the sons Of great Laomedon. His mother reared The boy in secret. While he fed his sheep, He with the river-nymph was joined in love And marriage, and she bore him twins; and these, Brave and of shapely limb, Mecisteus' son Struck down, and from their shoulders tore the mail. The warlike Polypætes overthrew Astyalus; Ulysses smote to earth Pidytes the Percosian with the spear, And Teucer Aretaon, nobly born. The glittering javelin of Antilochus, The son of Nestor, laid Ablerus low; And Agamemnon, king of men, struck down Elatus, who on lofty Pedasus Dwelt, by the smoothly flowing Satnio's stream. Brave Leïtus slew Phylacus in flight, And by Eurypylus Melanthius fell. Then valiant Menelaus took alive Adrastus, whose two coursers, as they scoured The plain in terror, struck against a branch Of tamarisk, and, there entangled, snapped The chariot pole, and, breaking from it, fled Whither were others fleeing. From the car Adrastus to the dust beside the wheel Fell, on his face. There, lifting his huge spear, Atrides Menelaus o'er him stood. Adrastus clasped the warrior's knees and said : - "O son of Atreus, take me prisoner, And thou shalt have large ransom. In the house Of my rich father ample treasures lie, Brass, gold, and tempered steel, - and he shall send Gifts without end when he shall hear that I Am spared alive and in the Grecian fleet." He spake, and moved the conqueror, who now Was minded to give charge that one among His comrades to the Grecian fleet should lead The captive. Agamemnon came in haste, And, lifting up his voice, rebuked him thus: — "O Menelaus, soft of heart, why thus Art thou concerned for men like these? In sooth, Great are the benefits thy household owes The Trojans. Nay, let none of them escape The doom of swift destruction by our hands. The very babe within his mother's womb, Even that must die, and all of Ilium born Perish unpitied, utterly cut off." He spake; the timely admonition changed The purpose of his brother, who thrust back The suppliant hero with his hand; and then King Agamemnon smote him through the loins, And prone on earth he fell. Upon the breast Of the slain man Atrides placed his heel, And from the body drew the ashen spear. Then Nestor to the Argives called aloud : - "Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars! Let no man here through eagerness for spoil Linger behind the rest, that he may bear Much plunder to the ships; but let us first Strike down our enemies, and afterward At leisure strip the bodies of the dead." Thus speaking, he revived in every breast Courage and zeal. Then had the men of Troy Sought refuge from the Greeks within their walls, O'ercome by abject fear, if Helenus, The son of Priam, and of highest note Among the augurs, had not made his way To Hector and Æneas, speaking thus:- "O Hector and Æneas, since on you Is laid the mighty labor to command The Trojans and the Lycians, - for the first Are ye in battle, and in council first, - Here make your stand, and haste from side to side, Rallying your scattered ranks, lest they betake Themselves to flight, and, rushing to their wives, Become the scorn and laughter of the foe. And then, so soon as ye shall have revived The courage of your men, we here will bide The conflict with the Greeks, though closely pressed; For so we must. But, Hector, thou depart To Troy and seek the mother of us both, And bid her call the honored Trojan dames To where the blue-eyed Pallas has her fane, In the high citadel, and with a key Open the hallowed doors, and let her bring What she shall deem the fairest of the robes, And amplest, in her palace, and the one She prizes most, and lay it on the knees Of the bright-haired Minerva. Let her make A vow to offer to the goddess there Twelve yearling heifers that have never borne The yoke, if she in mercy will regard The city, and the wives and little ones Of its defenders; if she will protect Our sacred Ilium from the ruthless son Of Tydeus, from whose valor armies flee, And whom I deem the bravest of the Greeks. For not so greatly have we held in dread Achilles, the great leader, whom they call The goddess-born; but terrible in wrath Is Diomed, nor hath his peer in might." He spake, and Hector of his brother's words Was not unmindful. Instantly he leaped, Armed, from his chariot, shaking his sharp spears; And everywhere among the host he went, Exhorting them to combat manfully; And thus he kindled the fierce fight anew. They, turning from the flight, withstood the Greeks. The Greeks fell back and ceased to slay; they thought That one of the immortals had come down From out the starry heaven to help the men Of Troy, so suddenly they turned and fought. Then Hector to the Trojans called aloud : "O valiant sons of Troy, and ye allies Summoned from far! Be men, my friends; call back Your wonted valor, while I go to Troy To ask the aged men, our counsellors, And all our wives, to come before the gods And pray and offer vows of sacrifice." So the plumed Hector spake, and then withdrew, While the black fell that edged his bossy shield Struck on his neck and ankles as he went. Now came into the midst between the hosts Glaucus, the offspring of Hippolochus, And met the son of Tydeus, both intent On combat. But when now the twain were near, And ready to engage, brave Diomed Spake first, and thus addressed his enemy: - "Who may'st thou be, of mortal men? Most brave Art thou, yet never in the glorious fight Have I beheld thee. Thou surpassest now All others in thy daring, since thou com'st Within the reach of my long spear. The sons Of most unhappy men are they who meet My arm; but if thou comest from above, A god-I war not with the gods of heaven; For even brave Lycurgus lived not long, The son of Dryas, who engaged in strife With the celestial gods. He once pursued The nurses of the frantic Bacchus through The hallowed ground of Nyssa. All at once They flung to earth their sacred implements, Lycurgus the man-slayer beating them With an ox-driver's goad. Then Bacchus fled And plunged into the sea, where Thetis hid The trembler in her bosom, for he shook With panic at the hero's angry threats. Thenceforward were the blessed deities Wroth with Lycurgus. Him did Saturn's son Strike blind, and after that he lived not long, For he was held in hate by all the gods. So will I never with the gods contend. But if thou be indeed of mortal race, And nourished by the fruits of earth, draw near; And quickly shalt thou pass the gates of death." Hippolochus's son, the far-renowned, Made answer thus: "O large-souled Diomed, Why ask my lineage? Like the race of leaves Is that of humankind. Upon the ground The winds strew one year's leaves; the sprouting wood Puts forth another brood, that shoot and grow In the spring season. So it is with man: One generation grows while one decays. Yet since thou takest heed of things like these, And askest whence I sprang, - although to most My birth is not unknown, - there is a town Lapped in the pasture-grounds where graze the steeds Of Argos, Ephyra by name, and there Dwelt Sisyphus Æolides, most shrewd Of men; his son was Glaucus, and the son Of Glaucus was the good Bellerophon, To whom the gods gave beauty and the grace Of winning manners. Prœtus sought his death And banished him, for Prœtus was the chief Among the Argives; Jupiter had made That people subject to his rule. The wife Of Prœtus, nobly-born Anteia, sought With passionate desire his secret love, But failed to entice, with all her blandishments, The virtuous and discreet Bellerophon. Therefore went she to Prœtus with a lie, — ""Die, Prœtus, thou, or put Bellerophon To death, for he has offered force to me.' "The monarch hearkened, and was moved to wrath; And then he would not slay him, for his soul Revolted at the deed; he sent him thence To Lycia, with a fatal tablet, sealed, With things of deadly import writ therein, Meant for Anteia's father, in whose hand Bellerophon must place it, and be made To perish. So at Lycia he arrived Under the favoring guidance of the gods; And when he came where Lycian Xanthus flows, The king of that broad realm received his guest With hospitable welcome, feasting him Nine days, and offering up in sacrifice Nine oxen. But when rosy-fingered morn Appeared for the tenth time, he questioned him And bade him show the token he had brought From Prœtus. When the monarch had beheld The fatal tablet from his son-in-law, The first command he gave him was, to slay Heaven-born Chimæra, the invincible. No human form was hers: a lion she In front, a dragon in the hinder parts, And in the midst a goat, and terribly Her nostrils breathed a fierce, consuming flame; Yet, trusting in the portents of the gods, He slew her. Then it was his second task To combat with the illustrious Solymi, - The hardest battle he had ever fought- So he declared-with men; and then he slew - His third exploit-the man-like Amazons. Then he returned to Lycia; on his way The monarch laid a treacherous snare. He chose From his wide Lycian realm the bravest men To lie in ambush for him. Never one Of these came home again, - Bellerophon The matchless slew them all. And when the king Saw that he was the offspring of a god, He kept him near him, giving him to wife His daughter, and dividing with him all His kingly honors, while the Lycians set Their richest fields apart -a goodly spot, Ploughlands and vineyards- for the prince to till. And she who now became his wife brought forth Three children to the sage Bellerophon, - Isandrus and Hippolochus; and, last, Laodameia, who in secret bore To all-providing Jupiter a son, — Godlike Sarpedon, eminent in arms. But when Bellerophon upon himself Had drawn the anger of the gods, he roamed The Aleian fields alone, a prey to thoughts That wasted him, and shunning every haunt Of humankind. The god whose lust of strife Is never sated, Mars, cut off his son Isandrus, warring with the illustrious race Of Solymi; and Dian, she who guides Her car with golden reins, in anger slew His daughter. I am of Hippolochus; From him I claim my birth. He sent me forth To Troy with many counsels and commands, Ever to bear myself like a brave man, And labor to excel, and never bring Dishonor on the stock from which I sprang, — The bravest stock by far in Ephyra And the wide realm of Lycia. 'Tis my boast To be of such a race and such a blood." He spake. The warlike Diomed was glad, And, planting in the foodful earth his spear, Addressed the people's shepherd blandly thus:- "Most surely thou art my ancestral guest; For noble Eneus once within his halls Received the blameless chief Bellerophon, And kept him twenty days, and they bestowed Gifts on each other, such as host and guest Exchange; a purple baldric Eneus gave Of dazzling color, and Bellerophon A double golden goblet; this I left Within my palace when I came to Troy. Of Tydeus I remember nothing, since He left me, yet a little child, and went To Thebes, where perished such a host of Greeks. Henceforward I will be thy host and friend In Argos; thou shalt be the same to me In Lycia when I visit Lycia's towns; And let us in the tumult of the fray Avoid each other's spears, for there will be Of Trojans and of their renowned allies Enough for me to slay wheneʼer a god Shall bring them in my way. In turn for thee Are many Greeks to smite whomever thou Canst overcome. Let us exchange our arms, That even these may see that thou and I Regard each other as ancestral guests." Thus having said, and leaping from their cars, They clasped each other's hands and pledged their faith. Then did the son of Saturn take away The judging mind of Glaucus, when he gave His arms of gold away for arms of brass Worn by Tydides Diomed, - the worth Of fivescore oxen for the worth of nine. And now had Hector reached the Scæan gates And beechen tree. Around him flocked the wives And daughters of the Trojans eagerly; Tidings of sons and brothers they required, And friends and husbands. He admonished all Duly to importune the gods in prayer, For woe, he said, was near to many a one. And then he came to Priam's noble hall, - A palace built with graceful porticos, And fifty chambers near each other, walled With polished stone, the rooms of Priam's sons And of their wives; and opposite to these Twelve chambers for his daughters, also near Each other; and, with polished marble walls, The sleeping-rooms of Priam's sons-in-law And their unblemished consorts. There he met His gentle mother on her way to seek Her fairest child, Laodice. She took His hand and held it fast, while thus she spake: - "Why art thou come, my child, and why hast left The raging fight? Full hard these hateful Greeks Press us, in fighting round the city-walls. Thy heart, I know, hath moved thee to repair To our high citadel, and lift thy hands In prayer to Jupiter. But stay thou here Till I bring pleasant wine, that thou may'st pour A part to Jove and to the other gods, And drink and be refreshed; for wine restores Strength to the weary, and I know that thou Art weary, fighting for thy countrymen." Great Hector of the crested helm replied: - "My honored mother, bring not pleasant wine, Lest that unman me, and my wonted might And valor leave me. I should fear to pour Dark wine to Jupiter with hands unwashed. Nor is it fitting that a man like me, Defiled with blood and battle-dust, should make Vows to the cloud-compeller, Saturn's son. But thou, with incense, seek the temple reared To Pallas the despoiler, - calling first Our honored dames together. Take with thee What thou shalt deem the fairest of the robes, And amplest, in thy palace, and the one Thou prizest most, and lay it on the knees Of the bright-haired Minerva. Make a vow To offer to the goddess in her fane Twelve yearling heifers that have never borne The yoke, if she in mercy will regard The city, and the wives and little ones Of its defenders; if she will protect Our sacred Ilium from the ruthless son Of Tydeus, from whose valor armies flee. So to the shrine of Pallas, warrior-queen, Do thou repair, while I depart to seek Paris, if he will listen to my voice. Would that the earth might open where he stands, And swallow him! Olympian Jupiter Reared him to be the bane of all who dwell In Troy, to large-souled Priam and his sons. Could I behold him sinking to the shades, My heart would lose its sense of bitter woe." He spake. His mother, turning homeward, gave Charge to her handmaids, who through all the town Passed, summoning the matrons, while the queen Descended to her chamber, where the air Was sweet with perfumes, and in which were laid Her rich embroidered robes, the handiwork Of Sidon's damsels, whom her son had brought- The godlike Alexander - from the coast Of Sidon, when across the mighty deep He sailed and brought the high-born Helen thence. One robe, more beautiful than all the rest, Of bright and varied hues and amplest folds, Hecuba chose; it glistened like a star, And lay beneath the rest. Then hastily She left the chamber with the matron train. They reached Minerva's temple, and its gates Were opened by Theano, the fair child Of Cisseus and the knight Antenor's wife, Made priestess to the goddess by the sons Of Troy. Then all the matrons lifted up Their voices and stretched forth their suppliant hands To Pallas, while the fair Theano took The robe and spread its folds upon the lap Of fair-haired Pallas, and with solemn vows Prayed to the daughter of imperial Jove:- "O venerated Pallas, Guardian-Power Of Troy, great goddess! shatter thou the lance Of Diomed, and let him fall in death Before the Scæan gates, that we forthwith May offer to thee in thy temple here Twelve yearling heifers that have never worn The yoke, if thou wilt pity us and spare The wives of Trojans and their little ones." So spake she, supplicating; but her prayer Minerva answered not; and while they made Vows to the daughter of Almighty Jove, Hector was hastening to the sumptuous home Of Alexander, which that prince had built With aid of the most cunning architects In Troy the fruitful, by whose hands were made The bed-chamber and hall and ante-room. There entered Hector, dear to Jove; he bore In hand a spear eleven cubits long: The brazen spear-head glittered brightly, bound With a gold circle. In his room he there Found Paris, busied with his shining arms, - Corslet and shield; he tried his curvèd bow; While Argive Helen with the attendant maids Was sitting, and appointed each a task. Hector beheld, and chid him sharply thus: - "Strange man! a fitting time indeed is this, To indulge thy sullen humor, while in fight Around our lofty walls the men of Troy Are perishing, and for thy sake the war Is fiercely blazing all around our town. Thou wouldst thyself reprove him, shouldst thou see Another warrior as remiss as thou In time of battle. Rouse thee, then, and act, Lest we behold our city all in flames." Then answered Paris of the godlike form:- "Hector! although thou justly chidest me, And not beyond my due, yet let me speak. Attend and hearken. Not in sullenness, Nor angry with the Trojans, sat I here Within my chamber, but that I might give A loose to sorrow. Even now my wife With gentle speeches has besought of me That I return to battle; and to me That seems the best, for oft doth victory Change sides in war. Remain thou yet awhile, Till I put on my armor; or go thou, And I shall follow and rejoin thee soon." He ended. Hector of the beamy helm Heard him, and answered not; but Helen spake, And thus with soothing words addressed the chief: - "Brother-in-law, - for such thou art, though I Am lost to shame, and cause of many ills, - Would that some violent blast when I was born Had whirled me to the mountain wilds, or waves Of the hoarse sea, that they might swallow me, Ere deeds like these were done! But since the gods Have thus decreed, why was I not the wife Of one who bears a braver heart and feels Keenly the anger and reproach of men? For Paris hath not, and will never have, A resolute mind, and must abide the effect Of his own folly. Enter thou meanwhile, My brother; seat thee here, for heavily Must press on thee the labors thou dost bear For one so vile as I, and for the sake Of guilty Paris. An unhappy lot, By Jupiter's appointment, waits us both, - A theme of song for men in time to come." Great Hector of the beamy helm replied:- "Nay, Helen, ask me not to sit; thy speech Is courteous, but persuades me not. My mind Is troubled for the Trojans, to whose aid I hasten, for they miss me even now. But thou exhort this man, and bid him haste To overtake me ere I leave the town. I go to my own mansion first, to meet My household, my dear wife and little child; Nor know I whether I may come once more To them, or whether the great gods ordain That I must perish by the hands of Greeks." So spake the plumed Hector, and withdrew, And reached his pleasant palace, but found not White-armed Andromache within, for she Was in the tower, beside her little son And well-robed nurse, and sorrowed, shedding tears. And Hector, seeing that his blameless wife Was not within, came forth again, and stood Upon the threshold questioning the maids. "I pray you, damsels, tell me whither went White-armed Andromache? Has she gone forth To seek my sisters, or those stately dames, My brothers' wives? Or haply has she sought The temple of Minerva, where are met The other bright-haired matrons of the town To supplicate the dreaded deity?" Then said the diligent housewife in reply: — "Since thou wilt have the truth, - thy wife is gone Not to thy sisters, nor those stately dames, Thy brothers' wives; nor went she forth to join The other bright-haired matrons of the town, Where in Minerva's temple they are met To supplicate the dreaded deity. But to the lofty tower of Troy she went When it was told her that the Trojan troops Lost heart, and that the valor of the Greeks Prevailed. She now is hurrying toward the walls, Like one distracted, with her son and nurse." So spake the matron. Hector left in haste The mansion, and retraced his way between The rows of stately dwellings, traversing The mighty city. When at length he reached The Scæan gates, that issue on the field, His spouse, the nobly-dowered Andromache, Came forth to meet him, - daughter of the prince Eëtion, who, among the woody slopes Of Placos, in the Hypoplacian town Of Thebé, ruled Cilicia and her sons, And gave his child to Hector great in arms. She came attended by a maid, who bore A tender child-a babe too young to speak - Upon her bosom, - Hector's only son, Beautiful as a star, whom Hector called Scamandrius, but all else Astyanax, - The city's lord, - since Hector stood the sole Defence of Troy. The father on his child Looked with a silent smile. Andromache Pressed to his side meanwhile, and, all in tears, Clung to his hand, and, thus beginning, said: - "Too brave! thy valor yet will cause thy death. Thou hast no pity on thy tender child, Nor me, unhappy one, who soon must be Thy widow. All the Greeks will rush on thee To take thy life. A happier lot were mine, If I must lose thee, to go down to earth, For I shall have no hope when thou art gone, Nothing but sorrow. Father have I none, And no dear mother. Great Achilles slew My father when he sacked the populous town Of the Cilicians, - Thebe with high gates. 'Twas there he smote Eëtion, yet forbore To make his arms a spoil; he dared not that, But burned the dead with his bright armor on, And raised a mound above him. Mountain-nymphs, Daughters of ægis-bearing Jupiter, Came to the spot and planted it with elms. Seven brothers had I in my father's house, And all went down to Hades in one day. Achilles the swift-footed slew them all Among their slow-paced bullocks and white sheep. My mother, princess on the woody slopes Of Placos, with his spoils he bore away, And only for large ransom gave her back. But her Diana, archer-queen, struck down Within her father's palace. Hector, thou Art father and dear mother now to me, And brother and my youthful spouse besides. In pity keep within the fortress here, Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife A widow. Post thine army near the place Of the wild fig-tree, where the city-walls Are low and may be scaled. Thrice in the war The boldest of the foe have tried the spot, - The Ajaces and the famed Idomeneus, The two chiefs born to Atreus, and the brave Tydides, whether counselled by some seer Or prompted to the attempt by their own minds.” Then answered Hector, great in war: "All this I bear in mind, dear wife; but I should stand Ashamed before the men and long-robed dames Of Troy, were I to keep aloof and shun The conflict, coward-like. Not thus my heart Prompts me, for greatly have I learned to dare And strike among the foremost sons of Troy, Upholding my great father's fame and mine; Yet well in my undoubting mind I know The day shall come in which our sacred Troy, And Priam, and the people over whom Spear-bearing Priam rules, shall perish all. But not the sorrows of the Trojan race, Nor those of Hecuba herself, nor those Of royal Priam, nor the woes that wait My brothers many and brave, - who all at last, Slain by the pitiless foe, shall lie in dust, - Grieve me so much as thine, when some mailed Greek Shall lead thee weeping hence, and take from thee Thy day of freedom. Thou in Argos then Shalt, at another's bidding, ply the loom, And from the fountain of Messeis draw Water, or from the Hypereian spring, Constrained unwilling by thy cruel lot. And then shall some one say who sees thee weep, 'This was the wife of Hector, most renowned Of the horse-taming Trojans, when they fought Around their city. So shall some one say, And thou shalt grieve the more, lamenting him Who haply might have kept afar the day Of thy captivity. O, let the earth Be heaped above my head in death before I hear thy cries as thou art borne away!" So speaking, mighty Hector stretched his arms To take the boy; the boy shrank crying back To his fair nurse's bosom, scared to see His father helmeted in glittering brass, And eying with affright the horse-hair plume That grimly nodded from the lofty crest. At this both parents in their fondness laughed; And hastily the mighty Hector took The helmet from his brow and laid it down Gleaming upon the ground, and, having kissed His darling son and tossed him up in play, Prayed thus to Jove and all the gods of heaven:- "O Jupiter and all ye deities, Vouchsafe that this my son may yet become Among the Trojans eminent like me, And nobly rule in Ilium. May they say, 'This man is greater than his father was!' When they behold him from the battle-field Bring back the bloody spoil of the slain foe, - That so his mother may be glad at heart." So speaking, to the arms of his dear spouse He gave the boy; she on her fragrant breast Received him, weeping as she smiled. The chief Beheld, and, moved with tender pity, smoothed Her forehead gently with his hand and said:- "Sorrow not thus, beloved one, for me. No living man can send me to the shades Before my time; no man of woman born, Coward or brave, can shun his destiny. But go thou home, and tend thy labors there, - The web, the distaff, - and command thy maids To speed the work. The cares of war pertain To all men born in Troy, and most to me." Thus speaking, mighty Hector took again His helmet, shadowed with the horse-hair plume, While homeward his beloved consort went, Oft looking back, and shedding many tears. Soon was she in the spacious palace-halls Of the man-queller Hector. There she found A troop of maidens, - with them all she shared Her grief; and all in his own house bewailed The living Hector, whom they thought no more To see returning from the battle-field, Safe from the rage and weapons of the Greeks. Nor waited Paris in his lofty halls, But when he had put on his glorious arms, Glittering with brass, he traversed with quick steps The city; and as when some courser, fed With barley in the stall, and wont to bathe In some smooth-flowing river, breaks his cord, And prances o'er the plain in joy of heart, And in the pride of beauty bears aloft His head, and gives his tossing mane to stream Upon his shoulders, while his flying feet Bear him to where the mares are wont to graze, So came the son of Priam - Paris - down From lofty Pergamus in glittering arms, And, glorious as the sun, held on his way Exulting and with rapid feet. He found His noble brother Hector as he turned To leave the place in which his wife and he Had talked together. Alexander then - Of godlike form - addressed his brother thus: "My elder brother! I have kept thee here Waiting, I fear, for me, though much in haste, And came less quickly than thou didst desire." And Hector of the plumed helm replied: - "Strange being, no man justly can dispraise Thy martial deeds, for thou art truly brave. But oft art thou remiss and wilt not join The combat. I am sad at heart to hear The Trojans - they who suffer for thy sake A thousand hardships-speak so ill of thee. Yet let us go: we will confer of this Another time, if Jove should e'er vouchsafe That to the immortal gods of heaven we pour In our own halls the cup of liberty When we have chased the well-armed Greeks from Troy."
BOOK VII. THE illustrious Hector spake, and rapidly Passed through the gate, and with him issued forth His brother Alexander, - eager, both, For war and combat. As when God bestows, To glad the long-expecting mariners, A favorable wind while wearily They beat the ocean with their polished oars, Their arms all nerveless with their length of toil, - Such to the expecting Trojans was the sight Of the two chiefs. First Alexander slew Menesthius, who in Arne had his home, A son of Areïthoüs the king. Large-eyed Philomedusa brought him forth To the mace-bearer Areïthoüs. And Hector smote Eïoneus, the spear Piercing his neck beneath the brazen casque, And straightway he dropped lifeless. Glaucus then - Son of Hippolochus, and chief among The Lycians in that fiery onset slew Iphinoüs, son of Dexius, with his spear. It pierced the warrior's shoulder as he sprang To mount his rapid car, and from the place He fell to earth, his limbs relaxed in death. Now when Minerva of the azure eyes Beheld them in the furious combat thus Wasting the Grecian host, she left the peaks Of high Olympus, and came down in haste To sacred Ilium. Straight Apollo flew To meet her, for he marked from Pergamus Her coming, and he greatly longed to give The victory to the Trojans. As they met Beside the beechen tree, the son of Jove, The king Apollo, spake to Pallas thus:- "Why hast thou, daughter of imperial Jove, Thus left Olympus in thine eager haste? Seek'st thou to turn in favor of the Greeks War's wavering chances? - for I know too well Thou hast no pity when the men of Troy Are perishing. But, if thou wilt give ear To me, I shall propose a better way. Cause we the conflict for this day to cease, And be it afterward renewed until An end be made of Troy, since it hath pleased You, goddesses, to lay the city waste." And blue-eyed Pallas answered: "Be it so, O mighty Archer. With a like intent I left Olympus for this battle-field Of Greeks and Trojans. But by what device Think'st thou to bring the combat to a pause?" Then spake the king Apollo, son of Jove, In turn to Pallas: "Let us seek to rouse The fiery spirit of the Trojan knight Hector, that he may challenge in the field Some Greek to meet him, singly and alone, In mortal combat. Then the well-armed Greeks, Stung by the bold defiance, will send forth A champion against Priam's noble son." He spake. The blue-eyed goddess gave assent; And straightway Helenus, beloved son Of Priam, in his secret mind perceived The purpose of the gods consulting thus, And came and stood by Hector's side and said: - "O Hector, son of Priam, and like Jove In council, wilt thou hearken to my words Who am thy brother? Cause the Trojans all And all the Greeks to sit, while thou shalt stand Proclaiming challenge to the bravest man Among the Achaians to contend with thee In mortal combat. It is not thy fate To fall and perish yet, for thus have said The ever-living gods, whose voice I heard." He spake; and Hector, hearing him, rejoiced, And went between the hosts. He bore his spear, Holding it in the middle, and pressed back The ranks of Trojans, and they all sat down. And Agamemnon caused the well-armed Greeks To sit down also. Meantime Pallas sat, With Phœbus of the silver bow, in shape Like vultures, on the boughs of the tall beech, - The tree of Father Jupiter who bears The ægis, - and they looked with great delight Upon the array of warriors in thick rows, Horrid with shields and helms and bristling spears. As when the west wind, rising fresh, breathes o'er The deep, and darkens all its face with waves, So seemed the Greeks and Trojans as they sat In ranks upon the field, while Hector stood Between the armies and bespake them thus: — "Ye Trojans, and ye well-armed Greeks, give ear To what my spirit bids me speak. The son Of Saturn, throned on high, hath not vouchsafed To ratify the treaty we have made, But meditates new miseries for us both, Till ye possess the towery city of Troy, Or, vanquished, yield yourselves beside the barks That brought you o'er the sea. With you are found The bravest sons of Greece. If one of these Is moved to encounter me, let him stand forth And fight with noble Hector. I propose, And call on Jove to witness, that if he Shall slay me with the long blade of his spear, My arms are his to spoil and to bestow Among the hollow ships; but he must send My body home, that there the sons of Troy And Trojan dames may burn it on the pyre. But if I take his life, and Phœbus crown My combat with that glory, I will strip His armor off and carry it away To hallowed Ilium, there to hang it high Within the temple of the archer-god Apollo; but his body I will send Back to the well-oared ships, that on the beach The long-haired Greeks may hold his funeral rites, And rear his tomb by the wide Hellespont. And then, in time to come, shall some one say, Sailing in his good ship the dark-blue deep, 'This is the sepulchre of one who died Long since, and whom, though fighting gallantly, Illustrious Hector slew. So shall he say Hereafter, and my fame shall never die." He spake; but utter silence held them all, - Ashamed to shun the encounter, yet afraid To meet it, -till at length, with heavy heart, Rose Menelaus from his seat, and thus Bespake the army with reproachful words: - "O boastful ones, no longer to be called Greek warriors, but Greek women! a disgrace Grievous beyond all others will be ours, If none be found in all the Achaian host To meet this Hector. May you, every one, There where ye now are sitting, turn to earth And water, craven as ye are, and lost To sense of glory! I will arm myself For this encounter. With the immortal gods Alone it rests to give the victory." He spake, and put his glorious armor on. Then, Menelaus, had the Trojan's hand Ended thy life, for he was mightier far Than thou, had not the Achaian kings at once Uprisen to hold thee back, while Atreus' son, Wide-ruling Agamemnon, took thy hand In his, and made thee listen while he spake: - "Sure, noble Menelaus, thou art mad. Such frenzied daring suits not with the time. Restrain thyself, though thou hast cause for wrath; Nor in thy pride of courage meet in arms One so much mightier, - Hector, Priam's son, Whom every other chief regards with fear, Whom even Achilles, braver far than thou, Dreads to encounter in the glorious fight. Withdraw, then, to thy comrades, and sit down. The Greeks will send some other champion forth Against him; and though fearless, and athirst For combat, he, I deem, will gladly bend His weary knees to rest should he escape From that fierce conflict in the lists alive." With words like these the Grecian hero changed The purpose of his brother, who obeyed The prudent counsel; and with great delight The attendants stripped the armor from his breast. Then Nestor rose amid the Greeks and said: - "Ye gods! a great calamity hath fallen Upon Achaia. How the aged chief Peleus, the illustrious counsellor and sage, Who rules the Myrmidons, will now lament! - He who once gladly in his palace-home Inquired of me the race and pedigree Of the Greek warriors. Were he but to know That all of them are basely cowering now In Hector's presence, how would he uplift His hands and pray the gods that from his limbs The parted soul might pass to the abode Of Pluto! Would to Father Jupiter And Pallas and Apollo that again I were as young as when the Pylian host And the Arcadians, mighty with the spear, Fought on the banks of rapid Celadon And near to Phea and Iardan's streams. There godlike Ereuthalion stood among Our foremost foes, and on his shoulders bore The armor of King Areïthoüs, — The noble Areïthoüs, whom men And graceful women called the Mace-bearer; For not with bow he fought, nor ponderous lance, But broke the phalanxes with iron mace. Lycurgus slew him, but by stratagem, And not by strength; he from a narrow way, Where was no room to wield the iron mace, Through Areïthoüs thrust the spear: he fell. The victor spoiled him of his arms, which Mars The war-god gave, and which in after-time Lycurgus wore on many a battle-field. And when within his palace he grew old, He gave them to be worn by one he loved, - To Ereuthalion, who attended him In battle, and who, wearing them, defied The bravest of our host. All trembled; all Held back in fear, nor dared encounter him. But me a daring trust in my own strength Impelled to meet him. I was youngest then Of all the chiefs; I fought, and Pallas gave The victory over him, and thus I slew The hugest and most strong of men; he lay Extended in vast bulk upon the ground. Would I were young as then, my frame unworn By years! and Hector of the beamy helm Should meet an adversary soon; but now No one of all the chieftains here, renowned To be the bravest of the Achaian race, Hastens to meet in arms the Trojan chief." Thus with upbraiding words the old man spake; And straight arose nine warriors from their seats. The first was Agamemnon, king of men; The second, brave Tydides Diomed; And then the chieftains Ajax, bold and strong; And then Idomeneus, with whom arose Meriones, his armor-bearer, great As Mars himself in battle. After them, Eurypylus Evæmon's valiant son, And Thoas, offspring of Andræmon, rose, And the divine Ulysses, - claiming all To encounter noble Hector in the lists. But then spake Nestor the Gerenian knight:— "Now let us cast the lot for all, and see To whom it falls; for greatly will he aid The nobly-armed Achaians, and as great Will be his share of honor should he come Alive from the hard trial of the fight." Then each one marked his lot, and all were cast Into the helm of Agamemnon, son Of Atreus. All the people lifted up Their hands in prayer to the ever-living gods, And turned their eyes to the broad heaven, and said: - "Grant, Father Jove, that Ajax, or the son Of Tydeus, or the monarch who bears rule In rich Mycenæ may obtain the lot." Such was their prayer, while the Gerenian knight, Old Nestor, shook the lots; and from the helm Leaped forth the lot of Ajax, as they wished. A herald took it, and from right to left Bore it through all the assembly, showing it To all the leaders of the Greeks. No one Knew it, and all disclaimed it. When at last, Carried through all the multitude, it came To Ajax the renowned, who had inscribed And laid it in the helmet, he stretched forth His hand, while at his side the herald stood, And took and looked upon it, knew his sign, And gloried as he looked, and cast it down Upon the ground before his feet, and said: - "O friends! the lot is mine, and I rejoice Heartily, for I think to overcome The noble Hector. Now, while I put on My armor for the fight, pray ye to Jove, The mighty son of Saturn, silently, Unheard by them of Troy, or else aloud, Since we fear no one. None by strength of arm Shall vanquish me, or find me inexpert In battle, nor was I to that degree Ill-trained in Salamis, where I was born. He spake; and they to Saturn's monarch-son Prayed, looking up to the broad heaven, and said: "O Father Jove! most mighty, most august! Who rulest from the Idæan mount, vouchsafe That Ajax bear away the victory And everlasting honor; but if thou Dost cherish Hector and protect his life, Give equal strength to both, and equal fame." Such were their words, while Ajax armed himself In glittering brass; and, when about his limbs The mail was buckled, forward rushed the chief. As moves the mighty Mars to war among The heroes whom the son of Saturn sends To struggle on the field in murderous strife, So the great Ajax, bulwark of the Greeks, With a grim smile came forward, and with strides Firm-set and long, and shook his ponderous spear. The Greeks exulted at the sight; dismay Seized every Trojan: even Hector's heart Quailed in his bosom; yet he might not now Withdraw through fear, nor seek to hide among The throng of people, since himself had given The challenge. Ajax, drawing near, upheld A buckler like a rampart, bright with brass, And strong with ox-hides seven. The cunning hand Of Tychius, skilled beyond all other men In leather-work, had wrought it at his home In Hyla. He for Ajax framed the shield With hides of pampered bullocks in seven folds, And an eighth fold of brass, - the outside fold. This Telamonian Ajax held before His breast, as he approached, and threatening said: - "Now shalt thou, Hector, singly matched with me, Learn by what chiefs the Achaian host is led Besides Achilles, mighty though he be To break through squadrons, and of lion-heart. Still in the beaked ships in which he crossed The sea he cherishes his wrath against The shepherd of the people, - Atreus' son. But we have those that dare defy thee yet, And they are many. Let the fight begin." Then answered Hector of the plumèd helm :- "O high-born Ajax, son of Telamon, And prince among thy people, think thou not To treat me like a stripling weak of arm, Or woman all untrained to tasks of war. I know what battles are and bloody frays, And how to shift to right and left the shield Of seasoned hide, and, unfatigued, maintain The combat; how on foot to charge the foe With steps that move to martial airs, and how To leap into the chariot and pursue The war with rushing steeds. Yet not by stealth Seek I to smite thee, valiant as thou art, But in fair open battle, if I may." He spake, and, brandishing his ponderous lance, Hurled it; and on the outer plate of brass, Which covered the seven bullock-hides, it struck The shield of Ajax. Through the brass and through Six folds of hides the irresistible spear Cut its swift way, and at the seventh was stopped. Then high-born Ajax cast his massive spear In turn, and drove it through the fair, round shield Of Priam's son. Through that bright buckler went The rapid weapon, pierced the well-wrought mail, And tore the linen tunic at the flank. But Hector stooped and thus avoided death. They took their spears again, and, coming close, Like lions in their hunger, or wild boars Of fearful strength, joined battle. Priam's son Sent his spear forward, striking in the midst The shield of Ajax, but it broke not through The brass; the metal turned the weapon's point. While Ajax, springing onward, smote the shield Of Hector, drave his weapon through, and checked His enemy's swift advance, and wounded him Upon the shoulder, and the black blood flowed. Yet not for this did plumèd Hector cease From combat, but went back, and, lifting up A huge, black, craggy stone that near him lay, Flung it with force against the middle bolt Of the broad sevenfold shield that Ajax bore. The brass rang with the blow. Then Ajax raised A heavier stone, and whirled it, putting forth His arm's immeasurable strength; it brake Through Hector's shield as if a millstone's weight Had fallen. His knees gave way; he fell to earth Headlong; yet still he kept his shield. At once Apollo raised him up; and now with swords, Encountering hand to hand, they both had flown To wound each other, if the heralds sent As messengers from Jupiter and men Had not approached, - Idæus from the side Of Troy, Talthybius from the Grecian host, — Wise ancients both. Betwixt the twain they held Their sceptres, and the sage Idæus spake: - "Cease to contend, dear sons, in deadly fray; Ye both are loved by cloud-compelling Jove, And both are great in war, as all men know. The night is come; be then the night obeyed." And Telamonian Ajax answered thus:- "Idæus, first let Hector speak of this, For he it was who challenged to the field The bravest of the Grecian host, and I Shall willingly obey if he obeys." To him in turn the plumèd Hector said: - "Ajax, although God gave thee bulk and strength And prudence, and in mastery of the spear Thou dost excel the other Greeks, yet now Pause we from battle and the rivalry Of prowess for this day. Another time We haply may renew the fight till fate Shall part us and bestow the victory On one of us. But now the night is here, And it is good to obey the night, that thou May'st gladden at the fleet the Greeks and all Thy friends and comrades, and that I in turn May give the Trojan men and long-robed dames, In the great city where King Priam reigns, Cause to rejoice, - the dames who pray for me, Thronging the hallowed temple. Let us now Each with the other leave some noble gift, That all men, Greek or Trojan, thus may say: 'They fought indeed in bitterness of heart, But they were reconciled, and parted friends.” He spake, and gave a silver-studded sword And scabbard with its fair embroidered belt; And Ajax gave a girdle brightly dyed With purple. Then they both departed, - one To join the Grecian host, and one to meet The Trojan people, who rejoiced to see Hector alive, unwounded, and now safe From the great might and irresistible arm Of Ajax. Straightway to the town they led Him for whose life they scarce had dared to hope. And Ajax also by the well-armed Greeks, Exulting in his feats of arms, was brought To noble Agamemnon. When the chiefs Were in his tents, the monarch sacrificed A bullock of twelve summers to the son Of Saturn, sovereign Jupiter. They flayed The carcass, dressed it, carved away the limbs, Divided into smaller parts the flesh, Fixed them on spits, and roasted them with care, And drew them from the fire. And when the task Was finished, and the banquet all prepared, They feasted, and there was no guest who lacked His equal part in that repast. The son Of Atreus, Agamemnon, brave, and lord Of wide dominions, gave the chine entire To Ajax as his due. Now when the calls Of thirst and hunger ceased, the aged chief Nestor, whose words had ever seemed most wise, Opened the council with this prudent speech:- "Atrides, and ye other chiefs of Greece! Full many a long-haired warrior of our host Hath perished. Cruel Mars hath spilt their blood Beside Scamander's gentle stream; their souls Have gone to Hades. Give thou, then, command That all the Greeks to-morrow pause from war, And come together at the early dawn, And bring the dead in chariots drawn by mules And oxen, and consume them near our fleet With fire, that we, when we return from war, May carry to our native land the bones, And give them to the children of the slain. And then will we go forth and heap from earth, Upon the plain, a common tomb for all Around the funeral pile, and build high towers With speed beside it, which shall be alike A bulwark for our navy and our host. And let the entrance be a massive gate, Through which shall pass an ample chariot-way. And in a circle on its outer edge Sink we a trench so deep that neither steeds Nor men may pass, if these proud Trojans yet Should, in the coming battles, press us sore." He spake; the princes all approved his words. Meanwhile, beside the lofty citadel Of Ilium and at Priam's palace-gates In turbulence and fear the Trojans held A council, and the wise Antenor spake: - “Hearken, ye Trojans, Dardans, and allies, To what my sober judgment bids me speak. Send we the Argive Helen back with all Her treasures; let the sons of Atreus lead The dame away; for now we wage the war After our faith is broken, and I deem We cannot prosper till we make amends." He spake, and sat him down. The noble chief Paris, the fair-haired Helen's husband, rose To answer him, and spake this winged speech: - "Thy words, Antenor, please me not. Thy skill Could offer better counsels. If those words Were gravely meant, the gods have made thee mad. But let me here, amid these knights of Troy, Speak openly my mind. Give up my wife I never will; but all the wealth I brought With her from Argos I most willingly Restore, with added treasures of my own." He said, and took his seat, and in the midst Dardanian Priam rose, a counsellor Of godlike wisdom, and thus sagely spake: - "Hear me, ye Trojans, Dardans, and allies! I speak the thought that rises in my breast. Take now, as ye are wont, your evening meal, And set a watch and keep upon your guard; But let Idæus to the hollow ships Repair at morning, and to Atreus' sons - To Agamemnon and his brother king- Make known what Paris, author of this strife, Proposes, and with fairly ordered speech Ask further if they will consent to pause From cruel battle till we burn the dead : Then be the war renewed till fate shall part The hosts and give to one the victory." He spake. The assembly listened and obeyed; All through the camp in groups they took their meal. But with the morn Idæus visited The hollow ships, and found the Achaian chiefs, Followers of Mars, in council near the prow Of Agamemnon's bark; and, standing there, The loud-voiced herald spake his message thus:- "Ye sons of Atreus, and ye other chiefs Of all the tribes of Greece, I come to you From Priam and the eminent men of Troy, To say, if it be pleasing to your ears, What Alexander, author of the war, Proposes. All the wealth which in his ships He brought to Troy - would he had perished first! - He will, with added treasures of his own, Freely restore; but her who was the wife Of gallant Menelaus he denies To render back, though all who dwell in Troy Join to demand it. I am furthermore Bidden to ask if you consent to pause From cruel battle till we burn our dead: Then be the war renewed till fate shall part The hosts and give to one the victory." He spake; and all were silent for a space. Then spake at length the valiant Diomed: - "Let none consent to take the Trojan's goods, Nor even Helen; for a child may see The utter ruin hanging over Troy." He spake. The admiring Greeks confirmed with shouts The words of Diomed the knight, and thus King Agamemnon to Idæus said: - "Idæus, thou thyself hast heard the Greeks Pronounce their answer. What to them seems good Pleases me also. For the slain, I give Consent to burn them; to the dead we bear No hatred; when they fall the rite of fire Should soon be paid. Let Juno's husband, Jove The Thunderer, bear witness to our truce." The monarch spake, and raised to all the gods His sceptre, while Idæus took his way To hallowed Ilium. There in council sat Trojans and Dardans, waiting his return. He came, and standing in the midst declared His message. Then they all went forth in haste, Some to collect the slain and some to fell Trees in the forest. From their well-benched ships The Achaians also issued, some to bring The dead together, some to gather wood. Now from the gently tossing deep the sun Began to climb the heavens, and with new rays Smote the surrounding fields. The Trojans met, But found it hard to know their dead again. They washed away the clotted blood, and laid - Shedding hot tears - the bodies on the cars. And since the mighty Priam's word forbade All wailing, silently they bore away Their slaughtered friends, and heaped them on the pyre With aching hearts, and, when they had consumed The dead with fire, returned to hallowed Troy. The nobly-armed Achaians also heaped Their slaughtered warriors on the funeral pile With aching hearts; and when they had consumed Their dead with fire they sought their hollow ships. And ere the morning came, while earth was gray With twilight, by the funeral pile arose A chosen band of Greeks, who, going forth, Heaped round it from the earth a common tomb For all, and built a wall and lofty towers Near it, -a bulwark for the fleet and host. And in the wall they fitted massive gates, Through which there passed an ample chariot-way; And on its outer edge they sank a trench, - Broad, deep, - and planted it with pointed stakes. So labored through the night the long-haired Greeks. The gods who sat beside the Thunderer Jove Admired the mighty labor of the Greeks; But Neptune, he who shakes the earth, began:- "O Father Jove, henceforth will any one Of mortal men consult the immortal gods? Seest thou not how the long-haired Greeks have reared A wall before their navy, and have drawn A trench around it, yet have brought the gods No liberal hecatombs? Now will the fame Of this their work go forth wherever shines The light of day, and men will quite forget The wall which once we built with toiling hands- Phœbus Apollo and myself-around The city of renowned Laomedon." And cloud-compelling Jove in wrath replied:- “Earth-shaking power! what words are these? Some god Of meaner rank and feebler arm than thou Might haply dread the work the Greeks have planned. But as for thee, thy glory shall be known Wherever shines the day; and when at last The crested Greeks, departing in their ships, Shall seek their native coasts, do thou o'erthrow The wall they built, and sink it in the deep, And cover the great shore again with sand. Thus shall their bulwark vanish from the plain." So talked they with each other while the sun Was setting. But the Achaians now had brought Their labors to an end; they slew their steers Beside the tents and shared the evening meal, While many ships had come to land with store Of wine from Lemnos, which Euneus sent, - Euneus whom Hypsipyle brought forth To Jason, shepherd of the people. These Brought wine, a thousand measures, as a gift To Agamemnon and his brother king, The sons of Atreus. But the long-haired Greeks Bought for themselves their wines; some gave their brass, And others shining. steel; some bought with hides, And some with steers, and some with slaves, and thus Prepared an ample banquet. Through the night Feasted the long-haired Greeks. The Trojan host And their auxiliar warriors banqueted Within the city-walls. Through all that night The Great Disposer, Jove, portended woe To both with fearful thunderings. All were pale With terror; from their beakers all poured wine Upon the ground, and no man dared to drink Who had not paid to Saturn's mighty son The due libation. Then they laid them down To rest, and so received the balm of sleep.
BOOK VIII. NOW morn in saffron rooes had shed her light O'er all the earth, when Jove the Thunderer Summoned the gods to council on the heights Of many-peaked Olympus. He addressed The assembly, and all listened as he spake:- "Hear, all ye gods and all ye goddesses! While I declare the thought within my breast. Let none of either sex presume to break The law I give, but cheerfully obey, That my design may sooner be fulfilled. Whoever, stealing from the rest, shall seek To aid the Grecian cause, or that of Troy, Back to Olympus, scourged and in disgrace, Shall he be brought, or I will seize and hurl The offender down to rayless Tartarus, Deep, deep in the great gulf below the earth, With iron gates and threshold forged of brass, As far beneath the shades as earth from heaven. Then shall he learn how greatly I surpass All other gods in power. Try if ye will, Ye gods, that all may know: suspend from heaven A golden chain; let all the immortal host Cling to it from below: ye could not draw, Strive as ye might, the all-disposing Jove From heaven to earth. And yet, if I should choose To draw it upward to me, I should lift, With it and you, the earth itself and sea Together, and I then would bind the chain Around the summit of the Olympian mount, And they should hang aloft. So far my power Surpasses all the power of gods and men." He spake; and all the great assembly, husned In silence, wondered at his threatening words, Until at length the blue-eyed Pallas said: - "Our Father, son of Saturn, mightiest Among the potentates, we know thy power Is not to be withstood, yet are we moved With pity for the warlike Greeks, who bear An evil fate and waste away in war. If such be thy command, we shall refrain From mingling in the combat, yet will aid The Greeks with counsel which may be their guide, Lest by thy wrath they perish utterly." The Cloud-compeller Jove replied, and smiled: - "Tritonia, daughter dear, be comforted. I spake not in the anger of my heart, And I have naught but kind intents for thee." He spake, and to his chariot yoked the steeds, Fleet, brazen-footed, and with flowing manes Of gold, and put his golden armor on, And took the golden scourge, divinely wrought, And, mounting, touched the coursers with the lash To urge them onward. Not unwillingly Flew they between the earth and starry heaven, Until he came to Ida, moist with springs And nurse of savage beasts, and to the height Of Gargarus, where lay his sacred field, And where his fragrant altar fumed. He checked Their course, and there the Father of the gods And men released them from the yoke and caused A cloud to gather round them. Then he sat, Exulting in the fulness of his might, Upon the summit, whence his eye beheld The towers of Ilium and the ships of Greece. Now in their tents the long-haired Greeks had shared A hasty meal, and girded on their arms. The Trojans, also, in their city armed Themselves for war, as eager for the fight, Though fewer; for a hard necessity Forced them to combat for their little ones And wives. They set the city-portals wide, And forth the people issued, foot and horse Together, and a mighty din arose. And now, when host met host, their shields and spears Were mingled in disorder; men of might Encountered, cased in mail, and bucklers clashed Their bosses; loud the clamor: cries of pain And boastful shouts arose from those who fell And those who slew, and earth was drenched with blood. While yet 't was morning, and the holy light Of day grew bright, the men of both the hosts Were smitten and were slain; but when the sun Stood high in middle heaven, the All-Father took His golden scales, and in them laid the fates Which bring the sleep of death, - the fate of those Who tamed the Trojan steeds, and those who warred For Greece in brazen armor. By the midst He held the balance, and, behold, the fate Of Greece in that day's fight sank down until It touched the nourishing earth, while that of Troy Rose and flew upward toward the spacious heaven. With that the Godhead thundered terribly From Ida's height, and sent his lightnings down Among the Achaian army. They beheld In mute amazement and grew pale with fear. Then neither dared Idomeneus remain, Nor Agamemnon, on the ground, nor stayed The chieftains Ajax, ministers of Mars. Gerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, Alone was left behind, and he remained Unwillingly. A steed of those that drew His car was sorely wounded by a shaft Which Alexander, fair-haired Helen's spouse, Sent from his bow. It pierced the forehead where The mane begins, and where a wound is death. The arrow pierced him to the brain; he reared And whirled in torture with the wound, and scared His fellow-coursers. While the aged man Hastened to sever with his sword the thongs That bound him to the car, the rapid steeds Of Hector bore their valiant master on With the pursuing crowd. The aged chief Had perished then, if gallant Diomed Had not perceived his plight. He lifted up His voice, and, shouting to Ulysses, said: - "High-born Ulysses, man of subtle shifts, Son of Laertes, whither dost thou flee? Why like a coward turn thy back? Beware, Lest there some weapon smite thee. Stay and guard This aged warrior from his furious foe." So spake he; but the much-enduring man, Ulysses, heard not the reproof, and passed Rapidly toward the hollow ships of Greece. Tydides, single-handed, made his way Among the foremost warriors, till he stood Before the horses of the aged son Of Neleus, and in winged accents said: - "The younger warriors press thee sore, old chief! Thy strength gives way; the weariness of age Is on thee; thy attendant is not strong; Thy steeds are slow. Mount, then, my car, and see What Trojan horses are; how rapidly They turn to right and left, and chase and flee. I took them from the terror of the field, Æneas. To our servants leave thine own, While we with these assault the Trojan knights, And teach even Hector that the spear I wield Can make as furious havoc as his own." He spake; and Nestor, the Gerenian knight, Complied. The two attendants, valiant men, — Sthenelus and the good Eurymedon, - Took charge of Nestor's steeds. The chieftains climbed The car of Diomed, and Nestor took Into his hand the embroidered reins and lashed The horses with the scourge. They quickly came To Hector. As the Trojan hastened on, The son of Tydeus hurled a spear; it missed, But spared not Eniopeus, him who held The reins, the hero's charioteer, and son Of brave Thebæus. In the breast between The paps it smote him; from the car he fell, And the swift horses started back; his soul And strength passed from him. Hector bitterly Grieved for his death, yet left him where he fell, And sought another fitting charioteer. Nor had the fiery coursers long to wait A guide, for valiant Archeptolemus, The son of Iphilus, was near at hand. And him he caused to mount the chariot drawn By his fleet steeds, and gave his hand the reins. Then great had been the slaughter; fearful deeds Had then been done; the Trojans had been scared Into their town like lambs into the fold, - Had not the Father of the immortal gods And mortal men beheld, and from on high Terribly thundered, sending to the earth A bolt of fire. He flung it down before The car of Diomed; and fiercely glared The blazing sulphur; both the frightened steeds Cowered trembling by the chariot. Nestor's hand Let fall the embroidered reins; his spirit sank With fear, and thus he said to Diomed: — "Tydides, turn thy firm-paced steeds, and flee. Dost thou not see that victory from Jove Attends thee not? To-day doth Saturn's son Award the glory to the Trojan chief. Hereafter he will make it ours, if such Be his good pleasure. No man, though he be The mightiest among men, can thwart the will Of Jupiter, with whom abides all power." The great in battle, Diomed, replied: - "Truly, O ancient man, thou speakest well; But this it is that grieves me to the heart, - That Hector to the Trojan host will say, 'I put to flight Tydides, and he sought Shelter among his ships.' Thus will he boast Hereafter; may earth open then for me!" And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, rejoined:- "What, son of warlike Tydeus, hast thou said? Though Hector call thee faint of heart, and weak The Trojans and Dardanians, and the wives Of the stout-hearted Trojans armed with shields, Whose husbands in their youthful prime thy hand Hath laid in dust, will not believe his words." Thus having said, he turned the firm-paced steeds Rearward, and mingled with the flying crowd. And now the Trojans and their leader gave A mighty cry, and poured on them a storm Of deadly darts, and crested Hector raised His thundering voice and shouted after them:- "O son of Tydeus! the swift-riding Greeks Have honored thee beyond all other men, At banquets, with high place and delicate meats And flowing cups. They will despise thee now, For thou art like a woman. Timorous girl! Take thyself hence, and never think that I Shall yield to thee, that thou may'st climb our towers And bear away our women in thy ships; For I shall give thee first the doom of death." He spake; and Diomed, in doubtful mood, Questioned his spirit whether he should turn His steeds and fight with Hector. Thrice the thought Arose within his mind, and thrice on high Uttered the all-forecasting Jupiter His thunder from the Idean mount, a sign Of victory changing to the Trojan side. Then Hector to the Trojans called aloud: - "Trojans and Lycians all, and ye who close In deadly fight, the sons of Dardanus! Acquit yourselves like men, my friends; recall Your fiery valor now, for I perceive The son of Saturn doth award to me Victory and vast renown, and to the Greeks Destruction. Fools! who built this slender wall Which we contemn, which cannot stand before The strength I bring; our steeds can overleap The trench they digged. When I shall reach their fleet, Remember the consuming power of fire, That I may give their vessels to the flames, And hew the Achaians down beside their prows, While they are wrapped in the bewildering smoke." He spake; and then he cheered his coursers thus: "Xanthus, Podargus, Lampus nobly-bred, And Æthon, now repay the generous care, The pleasant grain which my Andromache, Daughter of great Eëtion, largely gives. She mingles wine that ye may drink at will Ere yet she ministers to me, who boast To be her youthful husband. Let us now Pursue with fiery haste, that we may seize The shield of Nestor, the great fame of which Has reached to heaven, - an orb of massive gold Even to the handles. Let us from the limbs Of Diomed, the tamer of fleet steeds, Strip off the glorious mail that Vulcan forged: This done, our hope may be that all the Greeks Will climb their galleys and depart to-night." So boasted he; but queenly Juno's ire Was kindled, and she shuddered on her throne Till great Olympus trembled. Thus she spake To Neptune, mighty ruler of the deep: - "Earth-shaker! thou who rulest far and wide! Is there no pity for the perishing Greeks Within that breast of thine? They bring to thee At Helice and Ægæ costly gifts And many, wherefore thy desire should be That they may win the victory. If the gods Who favor the Achaians should combine To drive the Trojans back, and hold in check High-thundering Jupiter, the God would sit In sullen grief on Ida's top alone." Earth-shaking Neptune answered in disdain: — "O Juno, rash in speech! what words are these? Think not that I can wish to join the gods In conflict with the monarch Jupiter, The son of Saturn, mightier than we all." So held they colloquy. Meanwhile the space Betwixt the galleys and the trench and wall Was crowded close with steeds and shielded men; For Hector, son of Priam, terrible As Mars the lightning-footed, drave them on Before him. Jove decreed him such renown. And now would he have given that noble fleet To the consuming flame, if Juno, queen Of heaven, had not beheld, and moved the heart Of Agamemnon to exhort the Greeks That they should turn and combat. With quick steps He passed beside the fleet, among the tents, Bearing in his strong hand his purple robe, And climbed the huge black galley which had brought Ulysses to the war, - for in the midst It lay, and thence the king might send his voice To either side, as far as to the tents Of Ajax and Achilles, who had moored Their galleys at the different extremes Of the long camp, confiding in their might Of arm and their own valor. Thence he called, With loud, clear utterance, to the Achaian host: "O Greeks! shame on ye! cravens who excel In form alone! Where now are all the boasts Of your invincible valor, - the vain words Ye uttered pompously when at the feast In Lemnos sitting ye devoured the flesh Of hornèd beeves, and drank from bowls of wine, Flower-crowned, and bragged that each of you would be A match for fivescore Trojans, or for twice Fivescore? And now we all are not a match For Hector singly, who will give our fleet Soon to consuming flames. O Father Jove, Was ever mighty monarch visited By thee with such affliction, or so robbed Of high renown! And yet in my good ship, Bound to this luckless coast, I never passed By thy fair altars that I did not burn The fat and thighs of oxen, with a prayer That I might sack the well-defended Troy. Now be at least one wish of mine fulfilled, - That we may yet escape and get us hence; Nor let the Trojans thus destroy the Greeks." He spake, and wept. The All-Father, pitying him, Consented that his people should escape The threatened ruin. Instantly he sent His eagle, bird of surest augury, Which, bearing in his talons a young fawn, The offspring of a nimble-footed roe, Dropped it at the fair altar where the Greeks Paid sacrifice to Panomphean Jove. And they, when they beheld, and knew that Jove Had sent the bird, took courage, rallying, And rushed against the Trojans. Then no chief Of all the Greeks-though many they - could boast That he before Tydides urged his steeds To sudden speed and drave them o'er the trench, And mingled in the combat. First of all He struck down Agelaus, Phradmon's son, Armed as he was, who turned his car to fly, And as he turned, Tydides with his spear Transfixed his back between the shoulder-blades, And drave the weapon through his breast. He fell To earth, his armor clashing with his fall. Then Agamemnon followed, and with him His brother Menelaus; after these The chieftains Ajax, fearful in their strength; Idomeneus, and he who bore his arms, — Meriones, like Mars in battle-field; Eurypylus, Evæmon's glorious son; And ninthly Teucer came, who bent his bow Beneath the shield of Ajax Telamon, - For Ajax moved his shield from side to side, And thence the archer looked abroad, and aimed His arrows thence. Whoever in the throng Was struck fell lifeless. Teucer all the while, As hides a child behind his mother's robe, Sheltered himself by Ajax, whose great shield Concealed the chief from sight. What Trojan first Did faithful Teucer slay? Orsilochus, Dætor, and Ophelestes, Ormenus, Chromius, and Lycophontes nobly born, And Hamopaon, Polyæmon's son, And Melanippus, - one by one the shafts Of Teucer stretched them on their mother earth. Then Agamemnon, king of men, rejoiced As he beheld him, with his sturdy bow, Breaking the serried phalanxes of Troy; And came, and, standing near, bespake him thus: - "Beloved Teucer! son of Telamon, Prince of the people! ever be thy shafts Aimed thus, and thou shalt be the light and pride Of Greece, and of thy father Telamon, Who reared thee from a little child with care In his own halls, though spurious was thy birth. Go on to do him honor, though he now Be far away. And here I say to thee, - And I will keep my word, - if Jupiter The ægis-bearer and Minerva deign To let me level the strong walls of Troy, To thee will I assign the noblest prize After my own, - a tripod, or two steeds And chariot, or a wife to share thy bed." And thus the blameless Teucer made reply: - "Why, glorious son of Atreus, wouldst thou thus Admonish me, while yet I do my best, And pause not in the combat? From the time When we began to drive the enemy back To Ilium, I have smitten and have slain Their warriors with my bow. Eight barbed shafts I sent, and each has pierced some warlike youth; But this fierce wolf-dog have I failed to strike." He spake, and sent another arrow forth At Hector with an eager aim. It missed Its mark, but struck Gorgythion down, the brave And blameless son of Priam; through his breast The arrow went. Fair Castianira brought The warrior forth, -a dame from Æmysa, Beautiful as a goddess. As within A garden droops a poppy to the ground, Bowed by its weight and by the rains of spring, So drooped his head within the heavy casque. Again did Teucer send another shaft At Hector, eager still to smite. It missed Its aim again, for Phœbus turned aside The arrow, but it struck the charioteer Of Hector, Archeptolemus the brave, When rushing to the fight, and pierced his breast Close to the nipple; from the car he fell, The swift steeds started back, and from his limbs The life and strength departed. A deep grief For his slain charioteer came darkly o'er The mind of Hector, yet, though sorrowing, He left him where he fell, and straightway called Crebriones, his brother, who was near, To mount and take the reins. Crebriones Heard and obeyed. Then from the shining car Leaped Hector with a mighty cry, and seized A ponderous stone, and, bent to crush him, ran At Teucer, who had from his quiver drawn One of his sharpest arrows, placing it Upon the bowstring. As he drew the bow, The strong-armed Hector hurled the jagged stone, And smote him near the shoulder, where the neck And breast are sundered by the collar-bone, — A fatal spot. The bowstring brake; the arm Fell nerveless; on his knees the archer sank, And dropped the bow. Then did not Ajax leave His fallen brother to the foe, but walked Around him, sheltering him beneath his shield, Till two dear friends of his - Menestheus, son Of Echius, and Alastor nobly born - Approached, and took him up and carried him, Heavily groaning, to the hollow ships. Then did Olympian Jove again inspire The Trojan host with valor, and they drave The Achaians backward to the yawning trench. Then Hector came, with fury in his eyes, Among the foremost warriors. As a hound, Sure of his own swift feet, attacks behind The lion or wild boar, and tears his flank, Yet warily observes him as he turns, So Hector followed close the long-haired Greeks, And ever slew the hindmost as they fled. Yet now, when they in flight had crossed again The trench and palisades, and many a one Had died by Trojan hands, they made a halt Before their ships, and bade each other stand, And lifted up their hands and prayed aloud To all the gods; while Hector, urging on His long-maned steeds, and with stern eyes that seemed The eyes of Gorgon or of murderous Mars, Hither and thither swept across the field. The white-armed Juno saw, and, sorrowing, Addressed Minerva with these winged words : - "Ah me! thou daughter of the God who bears The ægis, shall we not descend to aid The perishing Greeks in their extremity? A cruel doom is theirs, to fall, destroyed By one man's rage, - the terrible assault Of Hector, son of Priam, who has made Insufferable havoc in the field." And thus in turn the blue-eyed Pallas spake: - "That warrior long ere this had lost his life, Slain by the Greeks on his paternal soil, But that my father's mind is warped by wrath. Unjust to me and harsh, he thwarts my aims, Forgetting all I did for Hercules, His son, how often, when Eurystheus set A task too hard for him, I saved his life. To heaven he raised his eyes and wept, and Jove Despatched me instantly to succor him. And yet if I, in my forecasting mind, Had known all this when he was bid to bring From strong-walled Erebus the dog of hell, He had not safely crossed the gulf of Styx. But now Jove hates me; now he grants the wish Of Thetis, who hath kissed his knees and touched His beard caressingly, and prayed that he Would crown the overthrower of walled towns, Achilles, with great honor. Well, the time Will come when he shall call me yet again His dear Minerva. Hasten now to yoke For us thy firm-paced steeds, while in the halls Of ægis-bearing Jupiter I brace My armor on for war, and I shall see If Hector of the beamy helm, the son Of Priam, will rejoice when we appear Upon the field again. Assuredly The men of Troy shall die, to feast the birds Of prey and dogs beside the Grecian fleet." She ended, and the white-armed deity Juno obeyed her. Juno the august, The mighty Saturn's daughter, hastily Caparisoned the golden-bitted steeds. Meanwhile, Minerva on the palace-floor Of Jupiter let drop the gorgeous robe Of many hues, which her own hands had wrought, And, putting on the Cloud-compeller's mail, Stood armed for cruel war. And then she climbed The glorious car, and took in hand the spear - Huge, heavy, strong-with which she overthrows The serried phalanxes of valiant men Whene'er this daughter of the Almighty One Is angered. Juno bore the lash, and urged The coursers to their speed. The gates of heaven Opened before them of their own accord, - Gates guarded by the Hours, on whom the care Of the great heaven and of Olympus rests, To open or to close the wall of cloud. Through these they guided their impatient steeds, From Ida Jupiter beheld, in wrath, And summoned Iris of the golden wings, And bade her do this errand: "Speed thee hence, Fleet Iris! turn them back; allow them not Thus to defy me: it is not for them To engage with me in war. I give my word, - Nor shall it lack fulfilment, - I will make The swift steeds lame that draw their car, and hurl The riders down, and dash the car itself To fragments. Ten long years shall wear away Before they cease to suffer from the wounds Made by the thunderbolt. Minerva thus May learn the fate of those who strive with Jove. With Juno I am less displeased, for she Is ever bent to thwart my purposes." He spake; and Iris, with the tempest's speed Departing, bore the message from the heights Of Ida to the great Olympus, where, Among the foremost passes of the mount, All seamed with hollow vales, she met and stayed The pair, delivering thus the word of Jove: — "Now whither haste ye? What strange madness fires Your breasts? The son of Saturn suffers not That ye befriend the Greeks. He threatens thus, - And will fulfil his threat, - that he will make The coursers lame that draw your car, and hurl The riders down, and dash the car itself To fragments, and that ten long years must pass Ere ye shall cease to suffer from the wounds Made by the thunderbolt. So shalt thou learn, O Pallas! what it is to strive with Jove. With Juno is he less displeased, for she Is ever bent to thwart his purposes; But thou, he says, art guilty above all, And shameless as a hound, if thou dare lift Thy massive spear against thy father Jove." So spake fleet-footed Iris, and withdrew; And thus again to Pallas Juno said: - "Child of the Ægis-bearer! let us strive With Jove no longer for the sake of men, But let one perish and another live, As chance may rule the hour, and let the God, Communing with his secret mind, mete out To Greeks and Trojans their just destiny." She spake, and turned the firm-paced coursers back, The coursers with fair-flowing manes. The Hours Unyoked them, bound them to the ambrosial stalls, And leaned against the shining walls the car; While Juno and Minerva went among The other deities and took their place Upon their golden seats, though sad at heart. Then with his steeds, and in his bright-wheeled car, Came Jove from Ida to the dwelling-place Of gods upon Olympus. There did he Who shakes the islands loose the steeds and bring The chariot to its place, and o'er it spread Its covering of lawn. The Thunderer Seated himself upon his golden throne, The great Olympus trembling as he stepped; While Juno and Minerva sat apart Together, nor saluted him, nor asked Of aught; but he perceived their thoughts and said: "Juno and Pallas! why so sad? Not long Ye toiled in glorious battle to destroy The Trojans, whom ye hold in bitter hate: This strength of mine, and this invincible arm Not all the gods upon the Olympian mount Can turn to flight, while your fair limbs were seized With trembling ere ye entered on the shock And havoc of the war. Now let me say - And well the event would have fulfilled my words - That, smitten with the thunder from my hand, Your chariots never would have brought you back To this Olympus and the abode of gods." He spake; while Pallas and the queen of heaven Repined with close-pressed lips, and in their hearts Devised new mischiefs for the Trojan race. Silent Minerva sat, nor dared express The anger that she bore her father Jove; But Juno could not curb her wrath, and spake:- "What words, austere Saturnius, hast thou said? Thou art, we know, invincible in might; Yet must we sorrow for the heroic Greeks, Who, by a cruel fate, are perishing. We stand aloof from war, if thou require; Yet would we counsel the Achaian host, Lest by thy wrath they perish utterly." And then the Cloud-compeller, answering, said: - "O Juno, large-eyed and august, if thou Look forth to-morrow, thou shalt then behold The all-powerful son of Saturn laying waste With greater havoc still the mighty host Of warlike Greeks. For Hector, great in war, Shall pause not from the conflict, till he rouse The swift-paced son of Peleus at the ships, When, pent in narrow space, the armies fight For slain Patroclus: such the will of fate. As for thyself, I little heed thy rage: Not even shouldst thou wander to the realm Where earth and ocean end, where Saturn sits Beside Iapetus, and neither light Of overgoing suns nor breath of wind Refreshes them, but gulfs of Tartarus Surround them, - shouldst thou even thither bend Thy way, I shall not heed thy rage, who art Beyond all others shamelessly perverse." He ceased; but white-armed Juno answered not. And now into the sea the sun's bright light Went down, and o'er the foodful earth was drawn Night's shadow. Most unwillingly the sons Of Troy beheld the sunset. To the Greeks Eagerly wished the welcome darkness came. Then from the fleet illustrious Hector led The Trojans, and beside the eddying stream, In a clear space uncumbered by the slain, Held council. There, alighting from their cars, They listened to the words that Hector spake, — Hector, beloved of Jove. He held a spear, In length eleven cubits, with a blade Of glittering brass, bound with a ring of gold. On this he leaned, and spake these winged words: - "But now I thought that, having first destroyed The Achaian host and fleet, we should return This night to wind-swept Ilium. To their aid The darkness comes, and saves the Greeks, and saves Their galleys ranged along the ocean-side. Obey we, then, the dark-browed night; prepare Our meal; unyoke the steeds with flowing manes, And set their food before them. Bring at once Oxen and fatlings of the flock from town, And from your dwellings bread and pleasant wine. And let us gather store of wood, to feed A multitude of blazing fires all night, Till Morning, daughter of the Dawn, appear, - Fires that shall light the sky, lest in the hours Of darkness with their ships the long-haired Greeks Attempt escape across the mighty deep. Let every foeman bear a wound to cure At home, - an arrow-wound or gash of spear, Given as he leaps on board. So other foes Shall dread a conflict with the knights of Troy. And let the heralds, dear to Jove, command That all grown youths and hoary-headed men Keep watch about the city in the towers Built by the gods; and let the feebler sex Kindle large fires upon their hearths at home; And let the guard be strengthened, lest the foe Should steal into the city while its sons Are all abroad. Thus let it be till morn, Brave Trojans! I but speak of what the time Requires, and on the morrow I shall speak Of what the Trojan knights have then to do. My prayer to Jove and to the other gods, And my hope is, that I may drive away These curs, brought hither by an evil fate In their black ships. All night will we keep watch, And, arming, with the early morn renew The desperate conflict at the hollow ships. Then shall I see if valiant Diomed Tydides has the power to make me leave The Grecian galleys for the city-walls, Or whether I shall slay him with my spear And take his bloody spoils. To-morrow's sun Will make his valor known, if he withstand The assault of this my weapon. Yet I think The sunrise will behold him slain among The first, with many comrades lying round. Would that I knew myself as certainly Secure from death and the decays of age, And to be held in honor like the gods Apollo and Minerva, as I know This day will bring misfortune to the Greeks!” So Hector spake, and all the Trojan host Applauded; from the yoke forthwith they loosed The sweaty steeds, and bound them to the cars With halters; to the town they sent in haste For oxen and the fatlings of the flock, And to their homes for bread and pleasant wine. So, high in hope, they sat the whole night through In warlike lines, and many watch-fires blazed. As when in heaven the stars look brightly forth Round the clear-shining moon, while not a breeze Stirs in the depths of air, and all the stars Are seen, and gladness fills the shepherd's heart, So many fires in sight of Ilium blazed, Lit by the sons of Troy, between the ships And eddying Xanthus: on the plain there shone A thousand; fifty warriors by each fire Sat in its light. Their steeds beside the cars Champing their oats and their white barley - stood, And waited for the golden morn to rise.
BOOK IX. THE Trojans thus kept watch; while through the night The power of Flight, companion of cold Fear, Wrought on the Greeks, and all their bravest men Were bowed beneath a sorrow hard to bear. As when two winds upturn the fishy deep, - The north wind and the west, that suddenly Blow from the Thracian coast; the black waves rise At once, and fling the sea-weed to the shore, — Thus were the Achaians troubled in their hearts. Atrides, deeply grieving, walked the camp, And bade the clear-voiced heralds call by name To council all the chiefs, but not aloud. The king himself among the foremost gave The summons. Sadly that assembly took Their seats; and Agamemnon in the midst Rose, shedding tears, -as down a lofty rock, Darkening its face, a fountain's waters flow, - And, deeply sighing, thus addressed the Greeks:- "O friends! the chiefs and princes of the Greeks! Saturnian Jove hath in an evil snare Most cruelly entangled me. He gave His promise once that I should overthrow This strong-walled Ilium, and return; but now He meditates a fraud, and sends me back To Argos without glory, and with loss Of many warriors. Thus doth it seem good Doubtless to Jove Almighty, who hath cast The towers of many a city down to earth, And will cast others down, - his might excels All other might. But let us now obey, As I shall counsel you, and in our ships Haste to our own dear country; for I see That Troy with its broad streets can ne'er be ours." He spake; and all were silent. Silent long Remained the sorrow-stricken sons of Greece, Till Diomed, the brave in battle, spake: - "First of the chiefs I speak, to disapprove, Atrides, thy rash purpose: 't is my right In council; nor, O king, be thou displeased. Thou first among the Greeks hast taunted me With lack of valor, calling me unapt For war and weak of arm. The young and old Have heard the taunt. One of two gifts the son Of wily Saturn hath bestowed on thee: High rank and rule o'er all the rest he gave, But gave thee not the nobler quality Of fortitude. Dost thou then truly deem The Greeks unapt for war and weak of arm, As thou hast said? Thou longest to return: Go, then; the way is open; by the sea The barks that brought thee from Mycenæ lie, A numerous fleet. Yet others will remain Long-haired Achaians-till we overthrow The city. Should they also pine for home, Then let them flee, with all their ships; while I With Sthenelus fight on until we make An end of Troy, - for with the gods we came." He spake. The Greeks applauded; all admired The words of the horse-tamer Diomed. Nestor the knight then rose, and thus he spake:- "O son of Tydeus, eminently brave Art thou among thy comrades in the field, And great in council. No one here condemns The sentence thou hast given; among the Greeks Is no one who denies what thou hast said; Yet hast thou not said all. Thy years are few, - So few, thou mightest be my youngest son; And yet thou speakest wisely to the kings Of Greece, and thy discourse is just and right. Now I, who boast of far more years than thou, Will speak of this that yet remains, and none — Not even Agamemnon-will gainsay What I advise. A wretch without a tie Of kin, a lawless man without a home, Is he who takes delight in civil strifes. But let us now give way to the dark night, And make our banquets ready. Let the guards Lie down within the trenches which we digged Without the wall: be this the young men's charge. And thou, Atrides, do thou now begin, Who art supreme, and make a feast for all The elder chiefs; it shall become thee well: Thy tents are full of wine, which ships from Thrace Bring every day across the mighty deep, And thou hast all things ready, and a host Of menials. Then, when many throng the board, Thou shalt defer to him who counsels thee Most wisely; for the Greeks have urgent need Of prudent counsels, when the foe so close Beside our galleys lights his multitude Of watch-fires. Who that sees them can rejoice? This night will rescue or destroy our host." He spake. They listened all, and willingly Obeyed him. Forth in armor went the guards, Led by the chieftain Thrasymedes, son Of Nestor, by Ascalaphus, who claimed His birth from Mars, and by Ialmenus His brother, and Deïpyrus, with whom There followed Aphareus, Meriones, And Lycomedes, Creon's noble son. Seven were the leaders of the guards; with each A hundred youths in warlike order marched, Bearing long spears; and when they reached the space Between the trench and wall they sat them down, And kindled fires and made their evening meal. Atrides brought the assembled elder chiefs To his pavilion, and before them set A generous banquet. They put forth their hands And shared the feast; and when the calls of thirst And hunger ceased, the aged Nestor first Began to counsel them; the chief, whose words Had lately seemed of wisest import, now Addressed the assembly with well-ordered speech: - "Atrides Agamemnon, glorious king! What I shall say begins and ends with thee, For thou dost rule o'er many nations. Jove Hath given to thee the sceptre, and the power To make their laws, that thou may'st seek their good. Thou, therefore, of all men, shouldst speak and hear In council, and shouldst follow willingly Another's judgment when it best promotes The general weal; for all depends on thee. Now let me say what seems to me most wise; For better counsel none can give than this Which now I meditate, and which to give I purposed from the hour when thou, great king, Didst bear the maid Briseis from the tent Of the enraged Achilles, unapproved By me, who strove to change thy rash design. Then didst thou yield thee to thy haughty will, And didst dishonor a most valiant man, Whom the immortals honor. Thou didst take And still dost keep the prize he fairly won. Let it be now our study to appease The hero with large gifts and soothing words." Then Agamemnon, king of men, replied: - "O ancient man, most truly hast thou named My faults. I erred, and I deny it not. That man indeed is equal to a host Whom Jupiter doth love and honor thus, Humbling the Achaian people for his sake. And now, since, yielding to my wayward mood, I erred, let me appease him, if I may, With gifts of priceless worth. Before you all I number them, - seven tripods which the fire Hath never touched, six talents of pure gold, And twenty shining caldrons, and twelve steeds Of hardy frame, victorious in the race, Whose feet have won me prizes in the games. No beggar would he be, nor yet with store Of gold unfurnished, in whose coffers lay The prizes those swift steeds have brought to me. Seven faultless women, skilled in household arts, I give moreover, - Lesbians, whom I chose When he o'erran the populous Lesbian isle, — Damsels in beauty who excel their sex. These I bestow, and with them I will send Her whom I took away, - Briseis, pure - I swear it with a mighty oath - as pure As when she left his tent. All these I give At once; and if by favor of the gods We lay the mighty city of Priam waste, He shall load down his galley with large store Of gold and silver, entering first when we, The Greeks, divide the spoil. Then may he choose Twice ten young Trojan women, beautiful Beyond their sex save Helen. If we come Safe to Achaian Argos, richly stocked With milky kine, he may become to me A son-in-law, and cherished equally With my sole son Orestes, who is reared Most royally. Three daughters there within My stately palace-walls, - Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianassa, - dwell, And he may choose among them, and may lead Home to the house of Peleus her who best Deserves his love. Nor need he to endow The bride, for I will give an ampler dower Than ever father to his daughter gave, Seven cities with thronged streets, - Cardamyle, Enope, grassy Hira, Pheræ famed Afar, Antheia with rich pasture-fields, Æpeia beautiful, and Pedasus With all its vineyards; all are near the sea, And stand the last before you reach the coast Of sandy Pylos. Rich in flocks and herds Their dwellers are, and they will honor him As if he were a god, and, ruled by him, Will pay large tribute. These will I bestow, Let but his anger cool and his resolve Give way. 'Tis Pluto who is deaf to prayer And ne'er relents, and he, of all the gods, Most hateful is to men. Now let the son Of Peleus yield at length to me, who stand Above him in authority and years." Then answered Nestor the Gerenian knight: — "Atrides Agamemnon! glorious king! Gifts not to be contemned thou offerest To Prince Achilles. Let us now despatch A chosen embassy, who shall proceed At once to where Pelides holds his tent. I name the men; and cheerfully will they Perform the duty: Phenix, dear to Jove, Shall be their leader, mighty Ajax next, And then high-born Ulysses; heralds twain Shall follow, - Hodius and Eurybates. And now be water brought to cleanse our hands, And charge be given that no ill-omened word Be uttered, while we pray that Jupiter, The son of Saturn, will assist our need." He spake; and all approved the words he said. Then poured the heralds water on the hands Of those who sat. The young men crowned with wine The goblets, and in seemly order passed The brimming cups, distributing to each. Part to the gods they poured, and next they drank As each might choose, and then the embassy Hastened from Agamemnon's tent. To each Gerenian Nestor spake in turn, and fixed His eyes on each intently, - most of all Upon Ulysses, --and with many a charge To turn Pelides from his angry mood. Along the edge of the resounding deep They went, and as they walked they offered prayer To earth-embracing Neptune, that their words Might move full soon the great Æacides To change his purpose. When they reached the tents And galleys of the Myrmidons, they found The hero solacing his heart with notes Drawn from a sweet-toned harp of silver frame, Well-wrought and shapely, which he found among The spoil he gathered when he overthrew Eetion's city. With its sounds he soothed His mood, and sang the exploits of valiant men. On moved the messengers, - before them walked High-born Ulysses, - till they stood beside Achilles. He beheld, and with the harp Sprang from his seat, surprised. Patroclus saw The heroes also, and arose. Their hands The swift Achilles took in his, and said: - "Welcome! Ye come as friends. Some pressing cause Must surely bring you hither, whom I prize, Wronged as I am, beyond all other Greeks." Thus speaking, the great son of Peleus led His guests still farther on, and seated them On couches spread with purple coverings, And thus addressed Patroclus, who was near:- "Son of Menœtius, bring a larger vase, And mingle purer wine, and place a cup For each, since these are most beloved friends, - These warriors who now sit beneath my roof." He spake. Patroclus hearkened, and obeyed His well-beloved friend, who meantime placed A block beside the fire, and on it laid Chines of a sheep and of a fatling goat, And of a sow, the fattest of her kind. Automedon stood by and held them fast; Achilles took the knife and skilfully Carved them in portions, and transfixed the parts With spits. Patroclus, the divine in form, Woke to a blaze the fire; and when the flame Had ceased to rise he raked the glowing coals Apart, and o'er them stretched the spits, and strewed, Raising the flesh, the sacred salt o'er all. And when he had made ready and had spread The banquet on the board, Patroclus took The bread and offered it to all the guests In shapely canisters. Achilles served The meats, and took his seat against the wall, In front of great Ulysses. There he bade His friend Patroclus offer sacrifice, Casting the first rich morsels to the flames. The guests put forth their hands and shared the feast; And when the calls of hunger and of thirst Were felt no longer, Ajax gave a nod To Phœnix, which divine Ulysses saw, And filled his cup and drank to Peleus' son: — "Thy health, Achilles! Princely feasts like this Attend us both in Agamemnon's tent And here, for here is all that makes a feast Complete; yet now is not the time to think Of pleasant banquets, for our thoughts are turned - O Jove-born warrior! - to a fearful time Of slaughter, and the fate of our good ships, - Whether we save them harmless, or the foe Destroy them, if thou put not on thy might. For now the haughty Trojans, and the troops Who come from far to aid them, pitch their camp Close to our fleet and wall, and all around Kindle their many fires, and boast that we No longer have the power to drive them back From our black galleys. Jupiter, the son Of Saturn, shows them favorable signs With lightnings from above; and, terrible In aspect and in valor, Hector makes Sad havoc, trusting in the aid of Jove, And neither reverences gods nor men, - Such rage possesses him. He prays that soon The morn may rise, that he may hew the prows From all our ships and give them to the flames, And slay the Greeks, bewildered with the smoke. For me, I greatly fear the gods will grant That he fulfil his threat, and that our doom Will be to perish on the Trojan coast, And far away from Argos famed for steeds. Rise, then, though late, - rise with a resolute mind, And from the hard-pressed sons of Greece drive back The assailing Trojans. Thou wilt else lament Hereafter, when the evil shall be done And shall admit no cure. Bethink thee well How from the Greeks thou may'st avert the day Of their destruction. O my friend, when first He sent thee forth to Agamemnon's help From Phthia's coast, thy father Peleus said: - "'My child, from Juno and Minerva comes The gift of valor, if they choose to give. But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, For gentle ways are best, and keep aloof From sharp contentions, that the old and young Among the Greeks may honor thee the more.' "Such was the old man's charge, forgotten now. Yield, then, and lay thy wrath aside. Large gifts Doth Agamemnon offer, to appease Thy wounded spirit. Hear me, if thou wilt, Recount what gifts the monarch in his tent Hath promised thee: - Seven tripods which the fire Hath never touched; six talents of pure gold; And twenty shining caldrons; and twelve steeds Of hardy frame, victorious in the race, Whose feet have won him prizes in the games. No beggar would he be, nor yet with store Of gold unfurnished, in whose coffers lay The prizes those swift-footed steeds have won. Seven faultless women, skilled in household arts, He offers, - Lesbians, whom he chose when thou Didst overrun the populous Lesbian isle, - In beauty eminent among their sex. These he bestows, and with them he will send Her whom he took away, - Briseis, pure- He swears it with a mighty oath as pure As when she left thy tent. All these he gives At once; and if, by favor of the gods, We lay the mighty city of Priam waste, Thou shalt load down thy galley with large store Of gold and silver, entering first when we, The Greeks, divide the spoil. Then may'st thou choose Twice ten young Trojan women, beautiful Beyond their sex save Helen. If we come Safe to Achaian Argos, richly stocked With milky kine, thou may'st become to him A son-in-law, and cherished equally With his sole son Orestes, who is reared Right royally. Three daughters there, within The monarch's stately halls, - Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianassa, - dwell, And thou may'st choose among them, and may'st lead Home to the house of Peleus her who best Deserves thy love. Nor needest thou endow The bride, for he will give an ampler dower Than ever father to his daughter gave, - Seven cities with thronged streets, — Cardamyle, Enope, grassy Hira, Pheræ famed Afar, Antheia with rich pasture-grounds, Arpeia beautiful, and Pedasus With all its vineyards; all are near the sea, And stand the last before you reach the coast Of sandy Pylos. Rich in flocks and herds Their dwellers are, and they will honor thee As if thou wert a god, and, ruled by thee, Will pay large tribute. These will he bestow, Let but thine anger cease. But if the son Of Atreus and his gifts still move thy hate, At least have pity on the afflicted Greeks, Pent in their camp, who now would honor thee As if thou wert a god; and thou shalt gain Great glory as their champion, and shalt slay This Hector, who even now is close at hand, And in a murderous frenzy makes his boast That none of all the chieftains whom the fleet Of Greece brought hither equals him in might." The swift Achilles answered him and said: - "Son of Laertes, nobly-born, and versed In wise devices, let me frankly speak Just as I think, and just as I shall act. Hateful to me, as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another. I shall speak as seems To me the best; nor deem I that the son Of Atreus or the other Greeks can move My settled purpose, since no thanks are paid To him who with the enemy maintains A constant battle: equal is the meed Of him who stands aloof and him who fights Manfully; both the coward and the brave Are held in equal honor, and they die An equal death, - the idler and the man Of mighty deeds. For me there is no store Of wealth laid up from all that I have borne, Exposing life in battle. As a bird Brings to her unfledged young the food she finds, Though she herself be fasting, so have I Had many a night unvisited by sleep, And passed in combat many a bloody day, Fighting beside these warriors for their wives. Twelve cities have I with my fleet laid waste, And with my Myrmidons have I o'erthrown Eleven upon this fertile Trojan coast. Full many a precious spoil from these I bore, And to Atrides Agamemnon gave. He, loitering in his fleet, received them all; Few he distributed, and many kept. To chiefs and princes he indeed assigned Prizes, which now they hold. From me alone Of all the Greeks he takes my prize; he takes My bride, whom well I loved; - and let him keep The damsel. But what need is there that Greeks Wage war against the Trojans? For what cause Did Agamemnon, gathering from our realms An army, lead it hither? Was it not Because of fair-haired Helen? Are the sons Of Atreus, then, the only men on earth Who love their wives? Nay, every good man loves And cherishes his spouse; and mine I loved Tenderly, though the captive of my spear: And now, since he hath taken my reward Away and treacherously dealt with me, Let him not try again, for I am warned, And he will not persuade me. Let him take Counsel with thee, Ulysses, and the rest, How to drive back the enemy and save The fleet from flames. Already has he done Much without me; a rampart he has raised, And round it dug a deep, broad trench, and filled The trench with palisades. Yet can he not Resist the man-destroyer Hector thus. This Hector, when I fought among the Greeks, Never would fight at distance from the walls, And ventured not beyond the Scæan gates And beechen tree. There waited he for me Upon a time, and scarce escaped with life From my assault. Now, since I do not choose To fight with noble Hector, I shall pay, To-morrow, sacrifice to Jupiter And all the gods, and load my galleys well, And draw them to the water. Then shalt thou See-if thou care for such a sight - my ships Sailing upon the fishy Hellespont At early morning, with their crews on board Eager to pull the oar; and if the god Of ocean grant a prosperous voyage, then On the third day we reach the fertile coast Of Phthia. Large possessions left I there When I came hither in an evil hour; And thither I shall carry with me gold And ruddy brass, and women of fair forms, And burnished steel, - the spoils I won in war. The prize he gave me, Agamemnon, son Of Atreus, takes, with many insults, back. Bear him this message, - give it openly, That others of the Greeks may be like me Indignant should he impudently dare To wrong them also: - Let him ne'er again, Though shameless, dare to look me in the face. I will not join in council or in act With him: he has deceived and wronged me once, And now he cannot wheedle me with words. Let once suffice. I leave him to himself, To perish. All-providing Jupiter Hath made him mad. I hate his gifts; I hold In utter scorn the giver. Were his gifts Tenfold, - nay, twenty-fold, the worth of all That he possesses, and with added wealth From others, - all the riches that flow in Upon Orchomenus, or Thebes, the pride Of Egypt, where large treasures are laid up, And through whose hundred gates rush men and steeds, Two hundred through each gate; - nay, should he give As many gifts as there are sands and dust Of earth, - not even then shall Atreus' son Persuade me, till I reap a just revenge For his foul contumelies. I will wed No child of Agamemnon. Even though She vied with golden Venus in her charms, And with the blue-eyed Pallas in her skill, I would not wed her. Let him choose among The Greeks a fitter husband, - one whose rule Is wider than my own. For if the gods Preserve me, and I reach my home again, My father, Peleus, will bestow on me A consort. Many are the Achaian maids, Daughters of chiefs who hold our citadels In Hellas and in Phthia, and of these, Her who shall most delight me I will make My well-beloved wife. My soul has longed Earnestly, with a fitting spouse betrothed Duly, to make my dwelling there, and there Enjoy the wealth which aged Peleus won; For not to be compared with life is all The wealth which, as men say, was treasured up In Ilium's populous town in time of peace, Ere the Greeks came, nor all the stores contained Within the stony threshold of the god Who bears the bow, Apollo, on the coast Of rocky Pytho. We may gather spoil Of oxen and of fatling sheep, and bring Tripods from war, and yellow-manèd steeds: The breath of man no force can seize or hold, And when it leaves the enclosure of the teeth It comes not back. My mother said to me— The goddess, silver-footed Thetis, said - A twofold fate conducts me to my death; - If I remain to fight beneath the walls Of Ilium, my return will be cut off, But deathless my renown; if I return To the dear land in which my fathers dwell, My glory will be nought, but long my life, And late will come to me the stroke of death. And now I counsel all to sail for home, For never will ye see the overthrow Of lofty Ilium. Jove the Thunderer Stretches his great hand o'er her, and her sons Take courage. Go ye now, and take with you This message to the princes of the Greeks, — As is the office of an embassy, — And bid them meditate some wiser plan To save their galleys and the host of Greeks Within the hollow barks. The plan which brought You hither cannot serve you while I keep My anger unappeased. Let Phœnix stay To pass the night with us, that he may sail To-morrow, if it please him, to the land We love; I take him not against his will." He ceased; and silent were the ambassadors, Astonished at his passionate words. At last Phœnix, the aged knight, with many tears And sighs, took up the word, in grief and fear Lest Hector should destroy the Grecian fleet: "Illustrious son of Peleus, if indeed Thou wilt return, nor carest to repel From our swift galleys the consuming fire, Because thou art offended, how shall I, Dear child, remain without thee? When at first Peleus, the aged knight, from Phthia sent Thee, yet a boy, to Agamemnon's aid, Unskilled as then thou wert in cruel war, And martial councils, - where men also gain A great renown, - he sent me with thee, charged To teach thee both, that so thou might'st become In words an orator, in warlike deeds An actor. Therefore, my beloved child, Not willingly shall I remain behind; Not even though a god should promise me That, overcoming the decays of age, I might become a beardless youth again, As when from Hellas and its companies Of lovely maids I came a fugitive, And left Amyntor, son of Ormenus, - My father, - angry with me for the sake Of a fair-tressèd wanton, whom he loved, Treating my mother basely. To my knees My mother came and prayed me ceaselessly, First, to possess the woman, that she then Might loathe the elder one; and I obeyed. My father knew it, and with many a curse Invoked the hateful furies to forbid That any child who owed his birth to me Should ever sit upon his knees. The gods- The Jove of Hades and dread Proserpine - Confirmed his curse. I could not brook to dwell Within my father's palace while he thus Was wroth with me. My kindred and my friends Came round me, and besought me to remain, And stayed beside me. Many a fatling ewe And many a slow-paced ox with curving horns They slew, and many a fattened swine they stretched Over the flame of Vulcan. From the casks Of the old chief his wine was freely drawn. Nine nights they slept surrounding me, while each Kept watch in turn: nor ever were the fires Put out; one blazed beneath the portico Of the fair hall, and near the chamber-door Another glimmered in the vestibule. But when upon me rose the tenth dark night, I broke my aptly-jointed chamber-doors, And issued forth, and easily o'erleaped The wall around the palace, quite unseen Of watching men and of the serving maids. I fled through spacious Hellas to the fields Of Phthia, nurse of flocks, and to her king, Peleus, who kindly welcomed me, and loved Me as a father loves his only son. Born to large wealth in his declining years, He made me rich, and gave me sovereign rule Over much people. My abode was fixed In farthest Phthia, where I was the prince Of the Dolopians. As for thee, my care, Godlike Achilles, made thee what thou art. I loved thee from my soul: thou wouldst not go With any other to the feast, nor take Thy food at home until upon my knees I placed thee, carved thy meats, and gave them thee, And poured thy wine. The tunic on my breast Was often wetted by thee when the wine Gushed in thy petulant childhood from thy lips. Thus many things did I endure for thee, And many toils perform; and since the gods Vouchsafed no son to me, it was my thought To train thee as a son, that thou might'st be, O godlike man! the bulwark of my age. And now subdue that mighty spirit of thine: Ill it becomes thee to be merciless: The gods themselves are placable, though far Above us all in honor and in power And virtue. We propitiate them with vows, Incense, libations, and burnt-offerings, And prayers for those who have offended. Prayers Are daughters of almighty Jupiter, — Lame, wrinkled, and squint-eyed, - that painfully Follow Misfortune's steps; but strong of limb And swift of foot Misfortune is, and, far Outstripping all, comes first to every land, And there wreaks evil on mankind, which prayers Do afterwards redress. Whoe'er receives Jove's daughters reverently when they approach, Him willingly they aid, and to his suit They listen. Whosoever puts them by With obstinate denial, they appeal To Jove, the son of Saturn, and entreat That he will cause Misfortune to attend The offender's way in life, that he in turn May suffer evil and be punished thus. Wherefore, Achilles! do thou also yield The honor due Jove's daughters, freely given By other valiant men. If Atreus' son Brought thee no gifts, nor promised others still, But kept his anger, I would never ask That thou shouldst lay aside thy wrath and come To help the Argives in their bitter need. But he bestows large gifts, and adds a pledge Of others yet in store, and he hath sent The best men of the army, who to thee Are dearest, to entreat thee. Spurn thou not These, nor their embassy, although at first Thine anger was not causeless. We have heard The praise of heroes of the elder time, Inflamed to vehement anger, yet appeased By gifts, and yielding to persuasive words. One instance I remember: long ago It happened, and I will relate it here Among my friends. Around the city-walls Of Calydon did the Curetes strive In battle with the Ætolians; they destroyed Each other fearfully. The Ætolians fought To save the pleasant town of Calydon, And the Curetes warred to lay it waste. Diana of the golden throne had caused The war, displeased with Œneus, who withheld From her the first-fruits of his fertile field: While hecatombs were burnt in sacrifice To feast the other gods, to her - Daughter of Jove - no offering was brought; For either he forgot, or thought the rite Of little moment; but he greatly erred. And now the child of Jove, the archer-queen, Incensed, sent forth against him from the wood A white-tusked wild boar, which upon his lands Entered, and ravaged them, and brought to earth Many tall trees: tree after tree they fell, With roots uptorn, and all the blossoms on, That promised fruit. Him Meleager, son Of Œneus, slew, with many hunters called From neighboring cities, bringing many hounds. A few could not subdue him: he had made Many already mount the funeral pile. Diana kindled round the boar a strife For the beast's head and bristly hide, - a war 'Twixt the Curetes and the Ætolian band Of braves. The war, while Meleager fought, Went not with the Curetes, nor could they, Though many, keep the field. But wrath at last Seized Meleager, - wrath, which rages oft Even in prudent minds. Incensed against Althæa, his own mother, he remained At home with Cleopatra, his young wife, The beauteous, whom a delicate-footed dame, Marpessa, daughter of Evenus, bore To Idas, bravest in his time among The sons of men, - so brave that once he drew A bow against Apollo for the sake Of his neat-footed bride. The honored pair Within the palace used to call their child Alcyone; for when the archer-god, Apollo, from her husband bore away The mother, Cleopatra sadly wailed, As wails the halcyon. So beside his spouse Dwelt Meleager, brooding ever o'er The violent anger which his mother's curse Had kindled. Grieving for a brother's death, She supplicated heaven, and often struck Her hands against the teeming earth, and called - Kneeling, her bosom all bedewed with tears On Pluto and the cruel Proserpine, To put her son to death. From Erebus The pitiless Erinnys, wandering In darkness, heard the prayer. Then straightway rose A sound of fearful tumult at the gates: The towers were battered, and the elder chiefs Of the Ætolians hastened to entreat The aid of Meleager, and they sent Priests of the gods, a chosen band, to pray That he would come to their defence. Large gifts They promised. Where the soil of Calydon Was best, they bade him choose a fruitful field Of fifty acres, half for vines, and half, Cleared of the trees, for tillage. Earnestly Did aged Œneus, famed for horsemanship, Beseech him; to the chamber of his son, High-roofed, he climbed, and at the threshold shook The massive doors with knocking as he sued. His sisters and his reverend mother joined Their supplications: he resisted still. And much his friends, the dearest and most prized, Besought him, but they vainly strove to swerve His steadfast mind, till his own chamber felt The assault, and the Curetes climbed the walls To fire the populous city. Then the nymph, His graceful wife, entreated him with tears, And spake of all the horrors which o'ertake A captured city, - all the men cut off By massacre, the houses given to flames, The children and deep-bosomed women dragged Into captivity. Her sorrowful words He heard; his spirit was disturbed; he went To gird his glittering armor on, and thus He saved the Ætolians from a fearful doom, Obeying his own impulse. The reward Of rare and costly gifts they gave him not, Though thus he rescued them. Be not thy thought Like his, my friend; let no invisible power Persuade thee thus to act. Far worse it were, To wait, and when our fleet is all on fire Offer thy aid. Accept the gifts at once: Then will the Greeks, as if thou wert a god, Hold thee in honor. If without the gifts Thou enter later on the field of fight, Thou wilt not have like honor with the host, Although thou turn the assault of battle back." Then did Achilles, swift of foot, reply: - "O ancient Phœnix, father, loved of Jove, Such honor need I not; for the decree Of Jove, I deem, already honors me, And will detain me by my beaked ships While breath is in my lungs, and I have power To move these knees. Yet one thing I would say, - And bear it thou in mind, - vex not my soul With weeping and lamenting for the sake Of Agamemnon; it becomes thee not- Thou who art loved by me- to yield thy love To him, unless thou wouldst incur my hate. And thou shouldst be the enemy of him Who wrongs me. Reign thou equally with me, And share my honors. These will carry back My answer. Thou remain, and, softly couched, Sleep here: with early morn will we consult Whether to leave this region or remain." He spake, and, nodding to Patroclus, gave A signal to prepare an ample couch For Phenix, while the other chiefs prepared To leave the tent. Then Ajax Telamon, The godlike chief, addressed his comrades thus:- "Son of Laertes, nobly born, and skilled In sage devices, let us now depart, Since, as it seems, the end for which we came Cannot be compassed thus, and we must bear With speed the unwelcome answer to the Greeks, Who sit expecting us; while in his breast The implacable Achilles bears a fierce And haughty heart, nor doth he heed the claim Of that close friendship of his fellow-chiefs, Which at the Grecian fleet exalted him Above all others. Unrelenting one! Even for a brother's death a price is paid, Or when a son is slain: the slayer dwells At home among his people, having made The appointed expiation. He to whom The fine is offered takes it, and his thirst Of vengeance is appeased. But in thy heart The gods have kindled an unquenchable rage, All for a single damsel, - and behold, Seven more we offer, passing beautiful, With many gifts beside. Let, then, thy mood Be softened: have respect to thine own roof; For we are guests beneath it, sent from all The assembled host, and strong is our desire To be thy dearest and most cherished friends Of all the Achaians, many as they are." Achilles the swift-footed answered thus: "Illustrious Ajax, son of Telamon, Prince of the people! all that thou hast said, I well perceive, is prompted by thy heart. Mine swells with indignation when I think How King Atrides mid the assembled Greeks Heaped insults on me, as if I had been A wretched vagabond. But go ye now And bear my message. I shall never think Of bloody war till noble Hector, son Of Priam, slaughtering in his way the Greeks, Shall reach the galleys of the Myrmidons, To lay the fleet in flames. But when he comes To my own tent and galley, he, I think, Though eager for the combat, will desist." He spake. Each raised a double cup and poured Libations to the gods; they then returned Beside the fleet. Ulysses led the way. Patroclus bade the attendant men and maids Strew with all speed a soft and ample bed For Phenix. They obeyed, and spread the couch With skins of sheep, dyed coverlets, and sheets Of lawn; and there the old man lay to wait The glorious morn. Meantime Achilles slept Within the tent's recess, and by him lay Phorbas's daughter, whom he carried off From Lesbos, - Diomedé, rosy-cheeked. Upon the other side Patroclus lay, With slender-waisted Iphis by his side, Given by the great Achilles when he took Scyros the tall, where Enyeus ruled. Now when the ambassadors were come within The tent of Agamemnon, all the chiefs Rose, one by one, and, lifting up to them Their golden goblets, asked the news they brought; And first Atrides, king of men, inquired : - "Renowned Ulysses, glory of the Greeks! Tell me, will he protect our fleet from flames, Or does he, in his wrath and pride, refuse?" Then spake the hardy chief Ulysses thus:- "Atrides Agamemnon, glorious king Of men! he will not let his wrath abate, But rages yet more fiercely, and contemns Thee and thy gifts. He leaves thee to consult With thine Achaians by what means to save The fleet and army; for himself he means To-morrow, with the early dawn, to launch His well-appointed galleys on the sea, And will advise the other Greeks to spread The sails for home, since they will never see The overthrow of lofty Troy, for Jove The Thunderer stretches his protecting hand Above her, and her sons have taken heart. Such are his words; and those who went with me Are present, - Ajax and the heralds both, Sage men, - the witnesses to what I say. The aged Phœnix stays behind to sleep, And on the morrow to attend his chief To their beloved country, - if he will, For else by no means will he take him hence." He spake; and all were silent, all amazed At what they heard, for these were bitter words. Long sat the sons of Greece in silent thought, Till Diomed, the great in battle, spake : - "Atrides Agamemnon, glorious king Of men! I would thou hadst not deigned to ask The illustrious son of Peleus for his aid, With offer of large gifts; for arrogant He is at all times: thou hast made him now More insolent. Now leave him to himself, To go or to remain: he yet will fight When his mood changes, or some god within Shall move him. Let us do what I advise: Betake we all ourselves to rest, but first Refresh ourselves with food and wine, for then Is strength and spirit. When the rosy morn Shall shine, command thou that the foot and horse Be speedily drawn up before the fleet, And thou encourage them with cheerful words, And fight among them in the foremost rank." He spake. The kings assented, and admired The words of the horse-tamer Diomed; And, pouring out libations, to their tents They all departed, and lay down to rest, And took into their souls the balm of sleep.
BOOK Χ. ALL the night long the captains of the Greeks Slept at the ships, and pleasant was their sleep, — All only Agamemnon, Atreus' son, The shepherd of the people. Not to him - Vexed with a thousand cares-came gentle sleep. As when the husband of the light-haired queen Of heaven sends forth his thunders, ushering in Some wide-involving shower, -rain, hail, or snow Whitening the fields, - or opening o'er some land The ravenous jaws of unrelenting war, - So frequent were the groans which from his heart Atrides uttered; for within his breast His heart was troubled. Looking toward the plain Of Troy, he wondered at the many fires Blazing before the city, and the sound Of flutes and fifes, and tumult of the crowd. But when he turned him toward the fleet and host Of Greece, he tore his hair, and flung it up To Jove, and vented his great heart in groans. And now at length it seemed to him most wise To seek Neleian Nestor, and with him Devise some plan by which to turn aside The threatened evil from the Greeks. He rose, And drew his tunic o'er his breast, and laced The graceful sandals to his well-shaped feet; And o'er his shoulders threw the blood-stained hide Of a huge tawny lion, that reached down Even to the ground; and took in hand his spear. Meantime with like uneasy thoughts oppressed Was Menelaus, to whose eyes there came No slumber, - dreading lest calamity Should light upon the Greeks, who for his sake Had crossed the sea to carry war to Troy. And first he threw a leopard's spotted hide O'er his broad back, and placed the brazen helm Upon his breast, and took in his strong grasp A spear, and went to bid his brother wake, — His brother, the chief ruler over all The men of Greece, and honored like a god. He found him at his galley's prow in act To sheath his shoulders in the shining mail, And pleased to greet his coming. To the king Thus Menelaus, great in battle, spake : - "Why arm thyself, my brother? Wouldst thou send A warrior to explore the Trojan camp? None will accept the task, I fear, to creep Alone at dead of night, a spy, within The hostile lines; - a bold man must he be." Then answered Agamemnon, king of men: - "Most noble Menelaus, much we need Wise counsel - thou and I - to save our men And galleys from destruction, since the will Of Jove is changed. Now hath the God respect To Hector's sacrifices; for in truth I never saw - I never heard of one Who in the compass of a day performed Such mighty deeds as Hector, dear to Jove, In warring with the Greeks. His great exploits Will be, I deem, for many a day to come A cause of bitter sorrow to the Greeks, - Such evil hath he wrought. Now go at once, And from their galleys call Idomeneus And Ajax; while to noble Nestor's tent I go, and pray that he will rise and give Their orders to the sacred band of guards; - For they will hearken to him, since his son Commands them jointly with Meriones, The armor-bearer of Idomeneus, - Both named by us to that important trust." Then Menelaus, great in battle, said: "What wilt thou, then, and what dost thou command, - That I remain with them until thou come, Or, having given the message, seek thee here?" Again the monarch Agamemnon spake: - "Wait there, lest as we go I meet thee not, For many ways are through the camp. But thou, In going, shout aloud and bid them all Be vigilant, accosting every one By his paternal name, and giving each Due honor: bear thyself not haughtily: We too must labor; for when we were born Jove laid this hard condition on us all." So spake he, and, dismissing with that charge His brother, hastened to where Nestor lay, The shepherd of his people. Him he found On his soft couch within his tent beside His dark-brown ship. Around him scattered shone His arms, - a shield, two spears, a gleaming helm, And pliant belt, with which the ancient man Girded himself when arming to lead on His men to murderous fight; - for not to age The warrior yielded yet. He raised his head, And, leaning on his elbow, questioned thus Atrides: "Who art thou that traversest The camp beside the fleet at dead of night, Alone, while others sleep? Com'st thou to find One of the guardsmen, or a comrade? Speak; Come not in silence thus: what wouldst thou have?" Then answered Agamemnon, king of men: - "Ο Nestor, son of Neleus, whom the Greeks All glory in! thou certainly wilt know Atrides Agamemnon, whom the will Of Jove hath visited with hardships great Beyond what others bear, to last while breath Is in my lungs, and while my knees can move. I wander thus abroad because sweet sleep Comes not to close my eyelids, and the war And slaughter of the Greeks distress me sore. For them I greatly fear, my heart is faint, My mind confounded. In my breast the heart Pants, and my limbs all tremble. If thou wilt, - For, as I see, thou also dost not sleep, - Come with me to the guards, that we may know Whether, o'ercome by toil and weariness, They give themselves to slumber and forget Their watch. The foe is near us in his camp, And how know we that even now by night He plans not, to attack us in our tents?" Then Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied: - "Atrides Agamemnon, glorious king Of men, almighty Jove will not perform For Hector all that Hector plans and hopes; And heavier cares, I think, will yet be his When once Achilles' wrath is turned away. Yet willingly I join thee. Let us call The other chiefs, - Ulysses, Diomed, Both mighty spearmen; Ajax, swift of foot; And the brave son of Phyleus. It were well To send and bid the mightier Ajax come, And King Idomeneus, for farthest off The ships of both are stationed. I shall chide Thy brother Menelaus- though he be Honored and dear, and though it please thee not- For sleeping, while he leaves such toils as these To thee alone. He should be here among The chiefs, exhorting them to valiant deeds; For now the hour of bitter need is come." Again spake Agamemnon, king of men: - "At other times, old chief, I would have begged That thou shouldst blame him: he is oft remiss, And late to act; but not because of sloth, Or want of spirit, - but he looks to me And waits for my example. Yet to-night He rose before me, sought me, and is sent To call the chiefs whom thou hast named; and now Let us go on, and meet them where they wait, Among the guards and just before the gates, - For I appointed that the trysting-place." And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied: - "Then let no Greek condemn him, or refuse To heed and to obey when he shall speak." He spake, and drew his tunic o'er his breast, Laced the fair sandals to his shapely feet, And round him fastened, with a clasp, his cloak, - A double web of purple, with full folds And flowing pile. He grasped a massive spear, Its blade of trenchant brass. And first he sought The galleys of the Achaians brazen-mailed. There shouted Nestor the Gerenian knight, To raise Ulysses, best of counsellors, Jove-like in wisdom; who perceived the voice, And issued from his tent in haste, and said: - "What brings you forth to walk the camp at night, Beside the ships alone; what urgent cause?" Then answered Nestor the Gerenian knight: - "Son of Laertes, nobly born, and skilled In wise devices, be thou not displeased: A fearful woe impends above the Greeks: Come, then, and call the other chiefs, to give Their counsel whether we shall flee or fight." He spake; and wise Ulysses, entering His tent again, upon his shoulders laid His well-wrought shield, and joined them as they went, Till, coming to Tydides Diomed, They found him by his tent among his arms, His comrades sleeping round him with their shields Beneath their heads. Their spears were set upright, The nether points in earth. The polished brass Gleamed like the lightnings of All-Father Jove. In sleep the hero lay; a wild bull's hide Was spread beneath him, and a carpet dyed With glowing colors propped his head. The knight, Gerenian Nestor, touched him with his foot And roused him, and addressed him chidingly:- "O son of Tydeus! wilt thou calmly sleep All the night long? And hast thou, then, not heard That on a height amidst the plain the sons Of Troy are stationed, near the ships, and small The space that parts the enemy's camp from ours?" He spake. The son of Tydeus sprang from sleep At once, and answered him with wingèd words: "Thy labors are too constant, aged man; Thou shrinkest from no hardship. Are there not Young men among the Greeks to walk the camp And call the kings? Thou never takest rest." And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied: - "Well hast thou said, my friend, for I have sons Without reproach, and I have many troops; And any one of these might walk the camp And give the summons. But to-night there lies A hard necessity upon the Greeks, And their destruction and their rescue hang Balanced on a knife's edge. Come then, since thou Art younger, call swift Ajax and the son Of Phyleus, if thou wouldst relieve my age." He spake; and Diomed around him flung A tawny lion's ample hide, that reached Down to his feet, and took his spear and went And summoned the two kings, and brought them forth. Now when they came among the assembled guard, Its leaders were not slumbering; every man Sat watchful and in arms. As dogs that guard Flocks in a sheepfold hear some savage beast That comes through thickets down the mountain-side; Loud is the clamor of the dogs and men, And sleep is frightened thence, - so gentle sleep Fled from the eyes of those who watched, that night, Sadly, with eyes turned ever toward the plain, Intently listening for the foe's approach. The aged Nestor saw them, and rejoiced, And thus encouraged them with winged words:- "Watch thus, dear youths, let no one yield to sleep, Lest we become the mockery of the foe." He spake, and crossed the trench; and with him went The Grecian leaders, they who had been called To council. With them went Meriones And Nestor's eminent son, for they had both Been summoned. Crossing to the other side Of that deep trench, they found an open space Clear of the dead, in which they sat them down, - Just where the fiery Hector, having slain Many Achaians, turned him back when night Came o'er him. There they sat to hold debate; And thus spake Nestor the Gerenian knight: - "Friends! is there none among you who so far Trusts his own valor that he will to-night Venture among the Trojans? He perchance Might capture on the borders of the camp Some foeman wandering, or might bring report Of what they meditate, and whether still They mean to keep their station far from Troy And near our ships, or, since their late success, Return to Ilium. Could he safely bring This knowledge back to us, his meed were great, Glory among all men beneath the sky, And liberal recompense. As many chiefs As now command our galleys, each would give A black ewe with a suckling lamb, -such gifts No one hath yet received, - and he should sit A guest at all our banquets and our feasts." He spake; and all were silent for a space. Then Diomed, the great in battle, said: - "Nestor, my resolute spirit urges me To explore the Trojan camp, that lies so near; Yet, were another warrior by my side, I should go forth with a far surer hope, And greater were my daring. For when two Join in the same adventure, one perceives Before the other how they ought to act; While one alone, however prompt, resolves More tardily and with a weaker will." He spake; and many a chief made suit to share The risk with Diomed. The ministers Of Mars, the chieftains Ajax, asked to go; Meriones desired it; Nestor's son Greatly desired to join the enterprise; Atrides Menelaus, skilled to wield The spear, desired it; and that hardy chief, Ulysses, longed to explore the Trojan camp, For full of daring aims was the great soul Within his bosom. Agamemnon then, The king of men, took up the word and said: "Tydides Diomed, most dear of men, Choose from the many chiefs, who ask to bear A part with thee, the bravest. Be not moved By deference to take the worse and leave The abler warrior. Pay no heed to rank, Or race, or wide extent of kingly rule." Thus spake the king; for in his heart he feared For fair-haired Menelaus. Diomed, The great in battle, then addressed them all: — "Ye bid me choose: how, then, can I o'erlook Godlike Ulysses, prudent in resolve, And firm in every danger, well-beloved By Pallas. Give me him, and our return Is sure, though from consuming flames; for he Is wise to plan beyond all other men." Ulysses, nobly born and hardy, spake In turn: "Tydides, praise me not too much, Nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks, Who know me. Meantime let us haste to go, For the night wears away, and morn is near. The stars are high, two thirds of night are past, - The greater part, - and scarce a third remains." He spake; and both arrayed themselves for fight. The mighty warrior Thrasymedes gave The two-edged sword he wore to Diomed, - Whose own was at the galleys, - and a shield. The hero then put on his helmet, made Of tough bull-hide, with neither cone nor crest, - Such as is worn by beardless youths. A bow, Quiver, and sword Meriones bestowed Upon Ulysses, placing on his brows A leathern helmet, firmly laced within By many a thong, and on the outer side Set thickly with a tusky boar's white teeth, Which fenced it well and skilfully. A web Of woollen for the temples lined the work. This helm Autolycus once bore away From Eleon, the city where he sacked The stately palace of Amyntor, son Of Ormenus. The captor gave the prize To the Cytheran chief, Amphidamas, Who bore it to Scandeia, and in turn Bestowed it upon Molus as his guest, And Molus gave it to Meriones, His son, to wear in battle. Now at last It crowned Ulysses' temples. When the twain Were all accoutred in their dreadful arms, Forward they went, and left the assembled chiefs, While, sent by Pallas forth, upon their right A heron flew beside their path. The bird They saw not, for the night was dark, but heard Its rustling wings. Ulysses at the sound Rejoiced, and supplicated Pallas thus: "Hear! daughter of the Ægis-bearer Jove! Thou who art near me in all dangers, thou Whose eye is on me wheresoe'er I go, Befriend me, Pallas, yet again, and grant That, laden with great glory, we return Safe to the galleys, mighty deeds performed, And woe inflicted on the Trojan race." Next Diomed, the great in battle, prayed: - "Daughter invincible of Jove, give ear Also to me. Be with me now, as once Thou didst attend on Tydeus nobly born, My father, when he bore an embassy To Thebe from the Achaians. He beside The Asopus left the Achaians mailed in brass, And bore a friendly message to the sons Of Cadmus, and on his return performed Full many a mighty deed with aid from thee, Great goddess! for thou stoodest by his side. Stand now by me; be thou my shield and guard; And I, in turn, will offer up to thee A yearling heifer, broad between the horns, Which never ploughman yet hath tamed to bear The yoke. Her to thine altar will I bring, With gilded horns, to be a sacrifice." So prayed they. Pallas listened to their prayers; And, having supplicated thus the child Of Jove Almighty, the two chiefs went on Like lions through the darkness of the night, Through slaughter, heaps of corses, and black blood. Nor now had Hector suffered the brave sons Of Troy to sleep, but summoned all the chiefs, Leaders, and princes of the host, and thus Addressed the assembly with well-ordered words:- "Who of you all will promise to perform The task I set him, for a large reward? For ample shall his meed be. I will give A chariot and two steeds with lofty necks, Swifter than the swift galleys of the Greeks. Great glory will be his whoever dares Approach those ships and bring the knowledge thence Whether the fleet is guarded as before, Or whether, yielding to our arms, the foe Is meditating flight, and, through the night O'ercome with weariness, keeps watch no more." He spake; and all were silent for a space. Now there was one, among the Trojan chiefs, Whose father was Eumedes, of the train Of reverend heralds. Dolon was his name, And he was rich in gold and brass, deformed In face but swift of foot, an only son Among five sisters. He stood forth among The Trojans, and replied to Hector thus:- "My daring spirit, Hector, urges me To visit the swift ships and learn the state Of the Greek host. But hold thy sceptre forth, And solemnly attest the gods that thou Wilt give to me the horses, and the car Engrailed with brass, which bear the illustrious son Of Peleus. I shall not explore in vain, Nor balk thy hope of me; for I will pass Into the camp until I reach the ship Of Agamemnon, where the chiefs are now Debating whether they shall fly or fight." He spake; and Hector held the sceptre forth, And swore: "Be Jupiter the Thunderer, Husband of Juno, witness, that those steeds Shall bear no other Trojan than thyself. That honor I confirm to thee alone." He spake. It was an idle oath, yet gave New courage to the spy, who instantly Upon his shoulders hung his crooked bow, And round him flung a gray wolf's hide, and placed A casque of otter-skin upon his head, And took his pointed javelin, and made haste To reach the Grecian fleet. Yet was he doomed Never to leave that fleet again, nor bring Tidings to Hector. Soon was he beyond The crowd of men and steeds, and eagerly Held on his way. Ulysses first perceived His coming, and thus spake to Diomed:- "Some one, Tydides, from the enemy's camp Is coming, either as a spy, or else To spoil the dead. First let us suffer him To pass us by a little on the plain, Then let us rush and seize him. Should his speed Be greater than our own, let us attack The fugitive with spears, and drive him on To where our ships are lying, from his camp, Lest, flying townward, he escape our hands." He spake; and both lay down without the path, Among the dead, while he unwarily Passed by them. When he now had gone as far As two yoked mules might at the furrow's end Precede a pair of oxen, - for by mules The plough is drawn more quickly through the soil Of the deep fallow, - then they rose, and rushed To seize him. As he heard their steps he stopped, In hope that his companions had been sent From Troy by Hector to conduct him back. But when they came within a javelin's cast, Or haply less, he saw that they were foes, And moved his nimble knees, and turned to flee, While rapidly they followed. As two hounds, Sharp-toothed, and trained to track their prey, pursue Through forest-grounds some fawn or hare that runs Before them panting, so did Diomed And terrible Ulysses without stop Follow the fugitive, to cut him off From his own people. In his flight he came Where soon he would have mingled with the guards, Close to the fleet. Then Pallas breathed new strength Into Tydides, that no other Greek Might boast that he had wounded Dolon first, And steal the honor. Therefore, with his spear Uplifted, Diomed rushed on and spake:- “Stop, or my spear o'ertakes thee, nor wilt thou Escape a certain death from this right hand." He spake, and hurled his spear - but not to smite - At Dolon, over whose right shoulder passed The polished weapon, and, descending, pierced The ground. Then Dolon, pale and fear-struck, stopped, And quaked, with chattering teeth and stammering speech. They, breathless with the chase, came up and seized His hands, while, bursting into tears, he spake:- "Take me alive, and ye shall have from me A ransom: there is store of brass and gold And well-wrought steel, of which a princely share My father will bestow when he shall hear Of me alive and at the Grecian fleet." The crafty chief Ulysses answered thus : - "Take heart, and cease to think of death, but tell, And truly, why thou camest to our fleet : Was it to strip the bodies of the dead? Camest thou, sent by Hector, as a spy Among our ships, or of thine own accord?" And Dolon answered, trembling still with fear:- "Hector, against my will and to my hurt, Persuaded me. He promised to bestow On me the firm-paced coursers, and the car Engrailed with brass, which bear the illustrious son Of Peleus, and enjoined me, by the aid Of darkness to approach the foe and learn Whether ye guard your galleys as before, Or, overcome by us, consult on flight, And, wearied with the hardships of the day, Have failed to set the accustomed nightly watch." The man of craft, Ulysses, smiled, and said: "Truly, thy hope was set on princely gifts, - The steeds of war-renowned Æacides, Hard to be reined by mortal hands, or driven By any, save by Peleus' son himself, Whom an immortal mother bore. But come, Tell me, and tell the truth, - where hast thou left Hector, the leader or the host, and where Are laid his warlike arms; where stand his steeds; Where are the sentinels, and where the tents Of other chiefs? On what do they consult? Will they remain beside our galleys here, Or do they meditate, since, as they say, The Greeks are beaten, a return to Troy?" Dolon, Eumedes' son, made answer thus:- "What thou requirest I will truly tell. Hector is with his counsellors, and now, Apart from all the bustle, at the tomb Of Ilus the divine, he plans the war. Sentries, of whom thou speakest, there are none; No chosen band, O hero! has in charge To guard the camp. By all their blazing fires, Constrained by need, the Trojans keep awake, And each exhorts his fellow to maintain The watch: not so the auxiliar troops who came From far: they sleep, and since they have no wives Nor children near, they let the Trojans watch.” Then thus the man of wiles, Ulysses, spake: - "How sleep they, - mingled with the knights of Troy, Or by themselves? Tell me, that I may know." Dolon, Eumedes' son, made answer thus:- "What thou requirest I will truly tell. On one hand, toward the sea, the bowmen lie Of Caria and Pæonia, and with them Lelegans, Caucons, and the gallant tribe Of the Pelasgians. On the other hand, Toward Thymbra, are the Lycians, the proud race Of Mysia, Phrygia's knights, and cavalry Of the Mæonians. Why should ye inquire The place of each? If ye design to-night To penetrate into the Trojan camp, There are the Thracians, newly come, apart From all the others; with them is their king, Rhesus, the son of Eioneus; his steeds Are far the largest and most beautiful I ever saw, - the snow is not so white, The wind is not so swift. His chariot shines With gold and silver, and the coat of mail In which he came to Troy is all of gold, And gloriously and marvellously bright, Such as becomes not mortal men to wear, But the gods only. Now to your swift ships Lead me; or bind me fast with thongs, and here Leave me till your return; and ye shall know Whether the words I speak be true or false." Then sternly spake the gallant Diomed: - "Once in our hands a prisoner, do not think, O Dolon! to escape, though thou hast told Things that shall profit us. For if we now Release thee thou wilt surely come again To the Greek fleet, a spy, or openly To fight against us. If I take thy life, 'T is certain thou wilt harm the Greeks no more." He spake. And as the suppliant took his chin In his large hand, and had begun a prayer, He smote him with his sword at the mid-neck, And cut the tendons both; the severed head, While yet he spake, fell, rolling in the dust. And then they took his helm of otter-skin, The wolf's-hide, sounding bow, and massive spear. The nobly born Ulysses in his hand Lifted the trophies high, devoting them To Pallas, deity of spoil, and prayed:- “Delight thyself, O goddess, in these arms, For thee we first invoke, of all the gods Upon Olympus. Guide us now to find The camp and coursers of the sons of Thrace." He spake; and, raising them aloft, he hung The spoils upon a tamarisk, and brake Reeds and the spreading branches of the tree, To form a mark, that so on their return They might not, in the darkness of the night, O'erlook the spot. And then the twain went on, And soon were where the Thracian squadron lay. There slept the warriors, overpowered with toil; Their glittering arms were near them, fairly ranged In triple rows, and by each suit of arms Two coursers. Rhesus slumbered in the midst. Near him were his fleet horses, which were made Fast to the chariot's border by the reins. Ulysses saw them first, and, pointing, said: - "This is the man, O Diomed, and these The steeds, described by Dolon whom we slew. Come, then; put forth thy strength of arm, for ill Doth it become thee to stand idle here, Armed as thou art. Loose thou the steeds; or else Slay thou the men, and leave the steeds to me." He spake. The blue-eyed Pallas straightway gave Strength to Tydides, who on every side Dealt slaughter. From the smitten by the sword Rose fearful groans; the ground was red with blood. As when a ravening lion suddenly Springs on a helpless flock of goats or sheep, So fell Tydides on the Thracian band, Till twelve were slain. Whomever Diomed Approached and smote, the sage Ulysses seized, And drew him backward by the feet, that thus The flowing-manèd coursers might pass forth Unhindered, nor, by treading on the dead, Be startled; for they yet were new to war. Now when the son of Tydeus reached the king, - The thirteenth of his victims, - him he slew As he breathed heavily; for on that night A fearful dream, in shape Enides' son, Stood o'er him, sent by Pallas. Carefully Ulysses meantime loosed the firm-paced steeds, And, fastening them together, drave them forth, Urging them with his bow: he had not thought To take the showy lash that lay in sight On the fair chariot-seat. In going thence He whistled, as a sign to Diomed, Who lingered, pondering on his next exploit, — Whether to seize the chariot where was laid The embroidered armor, dragging it away; Or, lifting it aloft, to bear it thence; Or take more Thracian lives. As thus his thoughts Were busy, Pallas, standing near him, spake: - "O son of large-souled Tydeus, think betimes Of thy return to where the galleys lie; Else may some god arouse the sons of Troy, And thou be forced to reach the ships by flight." She spake. He knew the goddess by her voice, And leaped upon a steed. Ulysses lashed The horses with his bow, and on they flew Toward the swift galleys of the Grecian host. Apollo, bearer of the silver bow, Kept no vain watch, and, angry when he saw Minerva at the side of Diomed, Down to the mighty host of Troy he came, And roused from sleep a Thracian counsellor, — Hippocoön, a kinsman of the house Of Rhesus. Leaping from his couch, he saw The vacant spot where the swift steeds had stood, And, weltering in their blood, the dying chiefs. He saw, and wept aloud, and called by name His dear companion. Then a clamor rose, And boundless tumult, as the Trojans came All rushing to the spot, and marvelling At what the daring warriors, who were now Returning to the hollow ships, had done. And when these warriors now had reached the spot Where Hector's spy was slain, Ulysses, dear To Jupiter, reined in the fiery steeds, And Diomed leaped down and took the spoil Blood-stained, and gave it to Ulysses' hands, And mounted. Then again they urged the steeds, Which, not unwilling, flew along the way. First Nestor heard the approaching sound, and said: - “Friends, chiefs and princes of the Greeks, my heart- Truly or falsely - urges me to speak. The trampling of swift steeds is in my ears. O that Ulysses and the gallant son Of Tydeus might be bringing at this hour Firm-footed coursers from the enemy's camp! Yet must I fear that these, our bravest chiefs, Have met disaster from the Trojan crew." While he was speaking yet, the warriors came. They sprang to earth; their friends, rejoicing, flocked Around them, greeting them with grasp of hands And with glad words, while the Gerenian knight, Nestor, inquired: “Declare, illustrious chief, Glory of Greece, Ulysses, how ye took These horses: from the foe; - or did some god Bestow them? They are glorious as the sun. Oft am I midst the Trojans, for, though old, I lag not idly at the ships; yet ne'er Have my eyes looked on coursers like to these. Some god, no doubt, has given them, for to Jove, The God of storms, and Pallas, blue-eyed child Of ægis-bearing Jove, ye both are dear." Then sage Ulysses answered: "Pride of Greece! Neleian Nestor, truly might a god Have given us nobler steeds than even these. All power is with the gods. But these of which Thou askest, aged man, are brought from Thrace, And newly come. Brave Diomed hath slain Their lord, and twelve companions by his side, - All princes. Yet another victim fell, - A spy whom, near our ships, we put to death, — A man whom Hector and his brother chiefs Sent forth by midnight to explore our camp." He spake, and gayly caused the firm-paced steeds To pass the trench; the other Greeks, well pleased, Went with him. When they reached the stately tent Of Diomed, they led the coursers on To stalls where Diomed's fleet horses stood Champing the wholesome corn, and bound them there With halters neatly shaped. Ulysses placed Upon his galley's stern the bloody spoil Of Dolon, to be made an offering To Pallas. Then, descending to the sea, They washed from knees and neck and thighs the grime Of sweat; and when in the salt wave their limbs Were cleansed, and all the frame refreshed, they stepped Into the polished basins of the bath, And, having bathed and rubbed with fragrant oil Their limbs, they sat them down to a repast, And from a brimming jar beside them drew, And poured to Pallas first, the pleasant wine.
BOOK XI. NOW did the Morning from her couch beside Renowned Tithonus rise, that she might bring The light to gods and men, when Jupiter To the swift galleys of the Grecian host Sent baleful Strife, who bore in hand aloft War's ensigns. On the huge black ship that brought Ulysses, in the centre of the fleet, She stood, where she might shout to either side, - To Telamonian Ajax in his tents And to Achilles, who had ranged their ships At each extreme of the Achaian camp, Relying on their valor and strong arms. Loud was the voice, and terrible, in which She shouted from her station to the Greeks, And into every heart it carried strength And the resolve to combat manfully And never yield. The battle now to them Seemed more to be desired than the return To their dear country in their roomy ships. Atrides called aloud, exhorting them To gird themselves for battle. Then he clad Himself in glittering brass. First to his thighs He bound the beautiful greaves with silver clasps, Then fitted to his chest the breastplate given By Cinyras, a pledge of kind intent; - For, when he heard in Cyprus that the Greeks Were bound for Ilium in their ships, he sent This gift, a homage to the king of men; - Ten were its bars of tawny bronze, and twelve Were gold, and twenty tin; and on each side Were three bronze serpents stretching toward the neck, Curved like the colored bow which Saturn's son Sets in the clouds, a sign to men. He hung His sword, all glittering with its golden studs, About his shoulders. In a silver sheath It nestled, which was slung on golden rings. And then he took his shield, a mighty orb, And nobly wrought and strong and beautiful, Bound with ten brazen circles. On its disk Were twenty bosses of white tin, and one Of tawny bronze just in the midst, where glared A Gorgon's-head with angry eyes, round which Were sculptured Fear and Flight. Along its band Of silver twined a serpent wrought in bronze, With three heads springing from one neck and formed Into an orb. Upon his head he placed A helmet rough with studs on every side, And with four bosses, and a horse-hair plume That nodded fearfully on high. He took In hand two massive spears, brass-tipped and sharp, That shone afar and sent their light to heaven, Where Juno and Minerva made a sound Like thunder in mid-sky, as honoring The sovereign of Mycenæ rich in gold. Each chief gave orders to his charioteer To stay his horses firmly by the trench, While they rushed forth in arms. At once arose, Ere yet the sun was up, a mighty din. They marshalled by the trench the men on foot; The horse came after, with short space between. The son of Saturn sent among their ranks Confusion, and dropped down upon the host Dews tinged with blood, in sign that he that day Would send to Hades many a valiant chief. The Trojans, on their side, in the mid-plain Drew up their squadrons on a hill, around The mighty Hector, and Polydamas The blameless, and Æneas, who among The sons of Troy was honored like a god, And three sons of Antenor, who were named Agenor and the noble Polybus And the young Acamas of godlike bloom. There Hector in the van uplifted bore His broad round shield. As some portentous star Breaks from the clouds and shines, and then again Enters their shadow, Hector thus appeared Among the foremost, issuing his commands, Then sought the hindmost. All in brass, he shone Like lightnings of the Ægis-bearer, Jove. As when two lines of reapers, face to face, In some rich landlord's field of barley or wheat Move on, and fast the severed handfuls fall, So, springing on each other, they of Troy And they of Argos smote each other down, And neither thought of ignominious flight. They met each other man to man; they rushed Like wolves to combat. Cruel Strife looked on Rejoicing; she alone of all the gods Was present in the battle; all the rest, Far off, sat quiet in their palaces, The glorious mansions built for them along The summits of Olympus. Yet they all Blamed Saturn's son that he should honor thus The Trojans. The All-Father heeded not Their murmurings, but, seated by himself Apart, exulting in his sovereignty, Looked on the city of Troy, the ships of Greece, The gleam of arms, the slayers, and the slain. While yet 't was morn, and still the holy light Of day was brightening, fast the weapons smote On either side, and fast the people fell; But at the hour when on the mountain-slope The wood-cutter makes ready his repast, Weary with felling lofty trees, and glad To rest, and eager for the grateful meal, The Greeks, encouraging each other, charged And broke the serried phalanxes of Troy. First Agamemnon, springing forward, slew The shepherd of his people and their chief, Bienor, and his trusty comrade next, - The charioteer Oïleus, who had leaped Down from his chariot to confront the king. Him Agamemnon with his trenchant spear Smote in the forehead as he came. The helm Of massive brass was vain to stay the blow: The weapon pierced it and the bone, and stained The brain with blood; it felled him rushing on. The monarch stripped the slain, and, leaving them With their white bosoms bare, went on to slay Isus and Antiphus, King Priam's sons, - One born in wedlock, one of baser birth, - Both in one chariot. Isus held the reins While Antiphus, the high-born brother, fought. These had Achilles once on Ida's height Made prisoners, as they fed their flocks; he bound Their limbs with osier bands, but gave them up For ransom to the Trojans. Now the king Of men, Atrides Agamemnon, pierced Isus above the nipple with his spear, And with his falchion smiting Antiphus Beside the ear, he hurled him from his car. Then hastening up, and stripping from the dead Their shining mail, he knew them; he had seen Both at the ships to which the fleet of foot, Achilles, brought them bound from Ida's side. As when a lion comes upon the haunt Of a swift hind, to make an easy prey Of her young fawns, and, with his powerful teeth Seizing them, takes their tender lives; while she, Though nigh, can bring no aid, but yields herself To mortal fear, and, to escape his rage, Flies swiftly through the wood of close-grown oaks, With sweaty sides, thus none of all the host Of Trojans could avert from Priam's sons Their fate, but fled in terror from the Greeks. Next on Pisander and Hippolochus Atrides rushed, - brave warriors both, and sons Of brave Antimachus, the chief who took Gold and rich gifts from Paris, and refused To let the Trojans render Helen back To fair-haired Menelaus. His two sons, Both in one car, and reining their fleet steeds, Atrides intercepted; they let fall The embroidered reins, dismayed, as, lion-like, Forward he came; and, cowering, thus they prayed:- "Take us alive, Atrides, and accept A worthy ransom, for Antimachus Keeps in his halls large treasures, - brass and gold, And well-wrought steel; and he will send, from these, Uncounted gifts when he shall hear that we Are spared alive and at the Grecian fleet." "Since then your father is Antimachus, The chief who in a Trojan council once Proposed that Menelaus, whom we sent A legate with Ulysses the divine, Should not return to Greece, but suffer death, Your blood must answer for your father's guilt." So spake the king, and, striking with his spear Pisander's breast, he dashed him from the car. Prone on the ground he lay. Hippolochus Leaped down and met the sword. Atrides lopped His hands and drave the weapon through his neck, And sent the head to roll among the crowd. And then he left the dead, and rushed to where The ranks were in disorder; with him went His well-armed Greeks: there they who fought on foot Slaughtered the flying foot; the horsemen there Clove horsemen down; the coursers' trampling feet Raised the thick dust to shadow all the plain; While Agamemnon cheered the Achaians on, And chased and slew the foe. As when a fire Seizes a thick-grown forest, and the wind Drives it along in eddies, while the trunks Fall with the boughs amid devouring flames, So fell the flying Trojans by the hand Of Agamemnon. Many high-maned steeds Dragged noisily their empty cars among The ranks of battle, never more to bear Their charioteers, who lay upon the earth The vulture's feast, a sorrow to their wives. But Jove beyond the encountering arms, the dust, The carnage, and the bloodshed and the din Bore Hector, while Atrides in pursuit Was loudly cheering the Achaians on. Meantime the Trojans fled across the plain Toward the wild fig-tree growing near the tomb Of ancient Ilus, son of Dardanus, - Eager to reach the town; and still the son Of Atreus followed, shouting, and with hands Blood-stained and dust-begrimed. And when they reached The Scæan portals and the beechen tree, They halted, waiting for the rear, like beeves Chased panting by a lion who has come At midnight on them, and has put the herd To flight, and one of them to certain death, — Whose neck he breaks with his strong teeth and then Devours the entrails, lapping up the blood. Thus did Atrides Agamemnon chase The Trojans; still he slew the hindmost; still They fled before him. Many by his hand Fell from their chariots prone, for terrible Beyond all others with the spear was he. But when he now was near the city-wall, The Father of immortals and of men Came down from the high heaven, and took his seat On many-fountained Ida. In his grasp He held a thunderbolt, and this command He gave to Iris of the golden wings:- "Haste, Iris fleet of wing, and bear my words To Hector:- While he sees the king of men, Atrides, in the van and dealing death Among the ranks of warriors, let him still Give way, encouraging his men to hold Unflinching battle with the enemy. But when Atrides, wounded by a spear Or arrow, shall ascend his chariot, then Will I nerve Hector's arm with strength to slay Until he come to the good ships of Greece, And the sun set, and hallowed night come down." He spake; and she, whose feet are like the wind In swiftness, heeded the command, and flew From Ida's summit to the sacred town Of Troy, and found the noble Hector, son Of warlike Priam, standing mid the steeds And the strong chariots, and, approaching, said: - "O Hector, son of Priam, and like Jove In council! Jove the All-Father bids me say, As long as thou shalt see the king of men, Atrides, in the van, and dealing death Among the ranks of warriors, thou shalt still Give way, encouraging thy men to hold Unflinching battle with the enemy; But when Atrides, wounded by a spear Or arrow, shall ascend his chariot, then Will Jove endue thy arm with strength to slay Until thou come to the good ships of Greece, And the sun set, and hallowed night come down." So the fleet Iris spake, and went her way; While Hector, leaping from his car in arms, And wielding his sharp spears, went everywhere Among the Trojan ranks, exhorting them To combat, and renewed the stubborn fight. They rallied and stood firm against the Greeks. The Greeks, in turn, made strong their phalanxes. The battle raged again, as front to front They stood, while Agamemnon eagerly Pressed forward, proud to lead the van in fight. Say, Muses, dwellers of Olympus! who First of the Trojans or their brave allies Encountered Atreus' son? Iphidamas, Son of Antenor, strong and daring, bred On the rich soil of Thrace, the nurse of flocks. His grandsire Cisseus, from whose loins the fair Theano sprang, had reared him from a child Within his palace; and, when he attained Youth's glorious prime, still kept him, giving him His child to wife. He wedded her, but left At once the bridal chamber when he heard Of the Greek war on Ilium, and set sail With twelve beaked galleys. These he afterward Left at Percope, - marching on to Troy. And he it was who came to meet the son Of Atreus. As the heroes now drew near Each other, Agamemnon missed his aim; His thrust was parried. Then Iphidamas Dealt him beneath the breastplate on the belt A vigorous blow, and urged the spear with all His strength of arm; yet through the plated belt It could not pierce, for there it met a plate Of silver, and its point was turned like lead. With lion strength, Atrides seized and drew The weapon toward him, plucked it from the hand That held it, and let fall his falchion's edge Upon the Trojan's neck and laid him dead. Unhappy youth! he slept an iron sleep, - Slain fighting for his country, far away From the young virgin bride yet scarcely his, For whom large marriage-gifts he made, - of beeves A hundred, and had promised from the flocks That thronged his fields a thousand sheep and goats. Atrides Agamemnon spoiled the slain, And bore his glorious armor off among The Argive host. Antenor's elder son, Illustrious Coön, saw, and bitter grief For his slain brother dimmed his eyes. He stood Aside, with his spear couched, while unaware The noble Agamemnon passed, and pierced The middle of the monarch's arm below The elbow; through the flesh the shining point Passed to the other side. The king of men, Atrides, shuddered, yet refrained not then From combat; but with his wind-seasoned spear He rushed on Coon, who, to drag away His father's son Iphidamas, had seized The body by the feet, and called his friends, The bravest, to his aid. Atrides thrust His brazen spear below the bossy shield, And slew him as he drew the corpse, and o'er The dead Iphidamas struck off his head. Thus were Antenor's sons - their doom fulfilled - Sent by Atrides to the realm of death. And then he ranged among the enemy's ranks With wielded lance and sword and ponderous steeds, While yet the warm blood issued from his wound. But when the wound grew dry, and ceased to flow With blood, keen anguish seized his vigorous frame. As when a woman feels the piercing pangs Of travail brought her by the Ilythian maids, Daughters of Juno, who preside at births, And walk the ministers of bitter pains, - Such anguish seized on Agamemnon's frame; And, leaping to his chariot-seat, he bade The guider of the steeds make haste to reach The roomy ships, for he was overcome With pain; but first he shouted to the Greeks:- "O friends, the chiefs and princes of the Greeks! Yours is the duty to drive back the war From our good ships, since all-disposing Jove Forbids me, for this day, to lead the fight." He spake. The charioteer applied the lash, And not unwillingly the long-maned steeds Flew toward the hollow ships; upon their breasts Gathered the foam; beneath their rapid feet Arose the dust, as from the battle's din They bore the wounded warrior. Hector saw The flight of Agamemnon, and aloud Called to the Trojans and the Lycians thus:- "Trojan and Lycian warriors, and ye sons Of Dardanus, who combat hand to hand, Be men; be mindful of your fame in war. Our mightiest foe withdraws; Saturnian Jove Crowns me with glory. Urge your firm-paced steeds On the brave Greeks, and win yet nobler fame." He spake. His words gave courage and new strength To every heart. As when a hunter cheers His white-toothed dogs against some lioness Or wild boar from the forest, Hector thus, The son of Priam, terrible as Mars The slayer of men, cheered on the gallant sons Of Troy against the Greeks. Himself, inspired With fiery valor, rushed among the foes In the mid-battle foremost, like a storm That swoops from heaven, and on the dark blue sea Falls suddenly, and stirs it to its depths. Who then was slain the first, and who the last, By Hector, Priam's son, whom Jove designed To honor? First, Asæus; Dolops, son Of Clytis; and Autonoüs; and then Opites and Opheltius; next to whom Æsymnus, Agelaus, Orus fell, And resolute Hipponous the last. All these, the princes of the Greeks, he slew, Then smote the common crowd. As when a gale Blows from the west upon the mass of cloud Piled up before the south wind's powerful breath, And tears it with a mighty hurricane, While the swoln billows tumble, and their foam Is flung on high before the furious blast, So by the sword of Hector fell the heads Of the Greek soldiery; and there had been Ruin and ravage not to be repaired, And the defeated Greeks had flung themselves Into their ships, had not Ulysses then Exhorted thus Tydides Diomed:- "Tydides! what has quenched within our hearts Their fiery valor? Come, my friend, and take Thy stand beside me: foul disgrace were ours Should crested Hector make our fleet his prize." And thus the valiant Diomed replied:- "Most willingly I stand, and bear my part In battle; but with little hope, for Jove, The God of storms, awards the day to Troy." He spake, and pierced Thymbræus with his spear Through the left breast, and dashed him from his car. Meanwhile Ulysses struck Molion down, The prince's stately comrade. These they left Never to fight again, and made their way Through the thick squadrons, carrying, as they went, Confusion with them. As two fearless boars Rush on the hounds, so, mingling in the war, They bore the foe before them, and the Greeks Welcomed a respite from the havoc made By noble Hector. Next they seized a car Which bore two chiefs, the bravest of their host, - Sons of Percosian Merops, who was skilled Beyond all men in portents. He enjoined His sons to keep aloof from murderous war. Yet did they not obey him, for the fate That doomed the twain to death impelled them on; And Diomed, the mighty with the spear, Spoiled them of life, and bore their armor off, A glittering prize. Meantime Ulysses slew Hippodamus, and next Hypirochus. The son of Saturn looked from Ida's height, And bade the battle rage on either side With equal fury: both the encountering hosts Slew and were slain. Tydides with his spear Smote on the hip the chief Agastrophus, Whose steeds were not at hand to bear him thence In flight, for his unwilling charioteer Held them at distance, while their master rushed Among the foremost warriors till he fell. Hector perceived his fall, as through the files He looked, and straightway hastened to the spot With shouts; and after him came rapidly The phalanxes of Trojans. Diomed, The great in battle, shuddered as he saw, And thus addressed Ulysses, who was near: - "Lo! the destroyer, furious Hector, comes! Let us stand firm, and face and drive him back." He said, and cast his brandished lance, nor missed The mark: it smote the helm on Hector's head. The brass glanced from the brass; it could not pierce To the fair skin; the high and threefold helm - A gift from Phœbus-turned the point aside. The chief fell back, and, mingling with the throng, Dropped on one knee, and yet upheld himself With one broad palm upon the ground, while night Darkened his eyes. The son of Tydeus sprang To seize his spear, which now stood fixed in earth Among the foremost warriors. In that time Did Hector breathe again, and, having leaped Into his chariot, he avoided death, By mingling with the crowd; while, spear in hand, Brave Diomed pursued him, shouting thus: - "This time, thou cur, hast thou escaped thy doom, Though it was nigh thee. Phœbus rescues thee- The god to whom thou dost address thy prayers - Whene'er thou venturest mid the clash of spears. Yet will I surely slay thee when we meet, If any god be on my side; and now I go to strike where'er I find a foe." He spake, and struck the son of Pæon down, Skilful to wield the spear. But now the spouse Of fair-haired Helen - Alexander - stood Leaning against a pillar by the tomb Of the Dardanian Ilus, who had been An elder of the people; and he bent His bow against the monarch Diomed, Who at that moment knelt to strip the slain Of the rich breastplate, and the shield that hung Upon his shoulders, and the massive casque. The Trojan drew the bow's elastic horn, And sent an arrow that not vainly flew, But, striking the right foot, pierced through, and reached The ground beneath. Then Paris, with a laugh, Sprang from his ambush, shouting boastfully: - "Lo, thou art smitten! Not in vain my shaft Has flown; and would that it had pierced thy groin And slain thee! Then the Trojans had obtained Reprieve from slaughter, they who dread thee now As bleating goats a lion." Undismayed, The valiant Diomed made answer thus:- "Archer and railer! proud of thy smart bow, And ogler of the women! wouldst thou make Trial of valor hand to hand with me, Thy bow should not avail thee, nor thy sheaf Of many arrows. Thou dost idly boast That thou hast hit my foot. I heed it not. It is as if a woman or a child Had struck me. Lightly falls the weapon-stroke Of an unwarlike weakling. 'Tis not so With me, for when one feels my weapon's touch, It passes through him, and he dies; his wife Tears with her hands her cheeks; his little ones Are orphans; earth is crimsoned with his blood; And flocking round his carcass in decay, More numerous than women, are the birds." He spake. Ulysses, mighty with the spear, Came near and stood before him while he sat Concealed, and drew the arrow from his foot. Keen was the agony that suddenly Shot through his frame: he leaped into his car, And bade his charioteer make haste to reach The roomy ships: the pain had reached his heart. Ulysses, the great spearman, now was left Alone, no Greek remaining by his side; For fear had seized them all. With inward grief The hero thus addressed his mighty soul: - "What will become of me? A great disgrace Will overtake me if I flee in fear Before this multitude; and worse will be My fate if I am taken here alone, While Jove has driven away the other Greeks In terror. Why these questions, since I know That cowards skulk from combat, while the brave, Wounded or wounding others, keeps his ground?" While thus he reasoned with himself, the ranks Of Trojans armed with bucklers came and closed Around their dreaded enemy. As when A troop of vigorous dogs and youths assail From every side a wild boar issuing forth From a deep thicket, whetting the white tusks Within his crooked jaws; they press around, And hear his gnashings, yet beware to come Too nigh the terrible animal, - so rushed The Trojans round Ulysses, the beloved Of Jupiter. Then first the hero smote Deïopites on the shoulder-blade, And next struck Thoön down, and Ennomus, And in the navel pierced Chersidamas With his sharp spear, below the bossy shield, When leaping from his chariot. In the dust He fell, and grasped the earth with dying hands. Ulysses left them there, and with his spear He wounded Charops, son of Hippasus, And brother of brave Socus. Socus saw, And hastened to his aid, and, standing near, The godlike chief bespake Ulysses thus:- "Renowned Ulysses! of whose arts and toils There is no end, thou either shalt to-day Boast to have slain two sons of Hippasus, Brave as they are, and stripped them of their arms, Or, smitten by my javelin, lose thy life." He spake, and smote the Grecian's oval shield. The swift spear, passing through the shining disk, And fixed in the rich breastplate, tore the skin From all his side; yet Pallas suffered not The blade to reach the inner parts. At once The chief perceived that Socus had not given A mortal wound, and, falling back a step, Thus spake: "Unhappy youth, thy doom will soon O'ertake thee. Though thou forcest me to pause From combat with the Trojans, I declare, This day thou sufferest the black doom of death. Thou, smitten by my spear, shalt bring to me Increase of glory, and shalt yield thy soul To the grim horseman Pluto." Thus he spake, While Socus turned to flee; and as he turned, Ulysses with the spear transfixed his back, And drave the weapon through his breast: he fell, With armor clashing, to the earth, while thus The great Ulysses gloried over him: - "O Socus! son of warlike Hippasus The horseman! death has overtaken thee, And thou couldst not escape. Unhappy one! Now thou art dead thy father will not come To close thy eyes, nor she, the honored one Who gave thee birth; but birds of prey shall flap Their heavy wings above thee, and shall tear Thy flesh, while I in dying shall receive Due funeral honors from the noble Greeks." He spake, and from his wounded side drew forth, And from his bossy shield, the ponderous spear Which warlike Socus threw. A gush of blood Followed, and torturing pain. Now, when they saw Ulysses bleed, the gallant sons of Troy Called to each other, rushing in a crowd To where he stood. Retreating as they came, He shouted to his comrades. Thrice he raised His voice as loud as human lungs could shout; Thrice warlike Menelaus heard the cry, And spake at once to Ajax at his side:- "Most noble Ajax, son of Telamon, Prince of thy people! to my ear is brought The cry of that unconquerable man, Ulysses, seemingly as if the foe Had hemmed him round alone, and pressed him sore In combat. Break we through the crowd, and bring Succor, lest harm befall him, though so brave, — Fighting among the Trojans thus alone, - And lest the Greeks should lose their mighty chief." He spake, and led the way; his godlike friend Followed. They found Ulysses, dear to Jove, — The Trojans thronging round him like a troop Of ravening jackals round an antlered stag Which one who hunts upon the mountain-side Hath stricken with an arrow from his bow: By flight the stag escapes, while yet the blood Is warm and easily the limbs are moved; But when at last the shaft hath quelled his strength, The hungry jackals in the forest-shade Among the hills attack him, till by chance The dreaded lion comes: alarmed, they flee, And he devours the prey. So in that hour, Many and brave, the sons of Troy pursued Ulysses, skilled in war and wiles; while he Wielded the spear and warded off the day Of death. Then Ajax, coming near him, stood, With his tall buckler, like a tower of strength Beside him, and the Trojans fled in fear On all sides. Warlike Menelaus took Ulysses by the hand, and led him forth From the thronged spot, while his attendant brought The chariot near him. Ajax sprang upon The Trojans, slaying Doryclus, a son Of Priam, basely-born. Then Pandocus He wounded; next he struck Lysander down, Pyrasus and Pylartes. As a stream, Swoln to a torrent by the showers of Jove, Comes rushing from the mountains to the plain, And pours into the sea a muddy flood, So mighty Ajax routed and pursued The Trojans o'er the plain, and cut his way Through steeds and men. Nor yet had Hector heard Of this, for on the battle's left he fought, Where fastest fell the slain, and where around Great Nestor and the brave Idomeneus Arose a mighty tumult. In that throng Did Hector mingle with his spear and steeds, Performing feats of valor, and laid waste The ranks of youthful warriors. Yet the Greeks Would not have yielded ground, if Paris, spouse Of fair-haired Helen, had not forced the chief Machaon, fighting gallantly, to pause; For with an arrow triple-barbed he pierced The chief's right shoulder, and the valiant Greeks Feared lest the battle turn and he be slain. And thus Idomeneus to Nestor said: - "Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks, Haste, mount thy chariot; let Machaon take A place beside thee; urge thy firm-paced steeds Rapidly toward the fleet; a leech like him, Who cuts the arrow from the wound and soothes The pain with balms, is worth a host to us." He spake; and the Gerenian knight obeyed, And climbed the car in haste. Machaon, son Of Esculapius the peerless leech, Mounted beside him; Nestor lashed the steeds, And toward the roomy ships, which well they knew And longed to reach, they flew with eager speed. Meantime Cebriones, who had his seat By Hector in the chariot, saw the ranks Of Troy disordered, and addressed the chief: - "While we, O Hector, here are mid the Greeks Just in the skirts of the tumultuous fray, The other Trojans, men and steeds, are thrown Into confusion where the warriors throng, For Telamonian Ajax puts their ranks To rout; I know him well by that broad shield Borne on his shoulders. Thither let us drive Our steeds and chariot, where in desperate strife Meet horse and foot and hew each other down, And a perpetual clamor fills the air." He spake; and with the whistling lash he struck The long-maned steeds, and, as they felt the stroke, Forward they flew with the swift car among The Greeks and Trojans, trampling in their way Corpses and shields. The axle underneath Was steeped in blood; the rim of the chariot-seat Was foul with the red drops which from their hoofs The coursers sprinkled and the wheels threw up. Then Hector strove, by rushing on the crowd, To pierce it and break through it. To the Greeks His coming brought destruction and dismay; And well his spear was wielded. Through the ranks Of other warriors with the spear he ranged, With sword and ponderous stones; yet warily He shunned the fight with Ajax Telamon. Then Father Jove Almighty touched with fear The heart of Ajax. All amazed he stood, And cast his sevenfold buckler of bull's-hide Upon his back, and, terrified, withdrew. Now casting glances like a beast of prey From side to side, he turned to right and left, And, slowly yielding, moved knee after knee. As when the rustics with their hounds drive off A hungry lion from their stalls of kine, Whom, watching all the night, they suffer not To make their herd a prey; but he, intent On ravin, rushes forward, yet in vain; For many a javelin flies from daring hands Against him, many a blazing torch is swung, At which, though fierce, he trembles, and at morn Stalks off in sullen mood; - so Ajax, sad At heart, and fearing for the Grecian fleet, Unwillingly fell back before the foe. And as, when entering in a field, an ass Slow-paced, whose flanks have broken many a shaft To splinters, crops the harvest as it grows, And boys attack him with their rods, - though small Their strength, - but scarce, till he has browsed his fill, Can drive him forth, - so did the gallant sons Of Troy, and their allies from distant lands, Continually pursue the mighty son Of Telamon, and hurl their spears against The centre of his shield. And now he wheeled, As conscious of great valor, and repulsed The crowding phalanxes; and now again He turned to flee. And thus he kept the foe From reaching the swift galleys, while he stood Between the Greeks and Trojans, terrible In wrath. The javelins hurled by daring hands Against him-some hung fixed in his broad shield; And many, ere they came to his fair skin, Fell midway, eager though they were to pierce The warrior's side, - and plunged into the earth. Eurypylus, Evæmon's noble son, Saw Ajax sorely pressed with many darts, And came and stood beside him, taking aim With his bright spear, and in the liver smote, Beneath the midriff, Apisaon, son Of Phausias, and a prince among his tribe. His knees gave way, and down he sank in death. But godlike Alexander, who beheld The slayer stripping Apisaon's corpse Of armor, at that moment bent his bow, And pierced Eurypylus in the right thigh. The reed brake in the wound. He writhed with pain, And mingled with his fellows in the ranks, Avoiding death, yet shouting to the Greeks:- "O friends, the chiefs and leaders of the Greeks, Rally and keep your ground; ward off the fate Of death from Ajax, who is sorely pressed With darts, and, much I fear, may not escape Safe from this stormy conflict. Stand ye firm Around the mighty son of Telamon." So spake the wounded warrior; while his friends Rallied around him, with their shields inclined Against their shoulders, and with lifted spears. And Ajax came and joined them; then he turned, And firmly faced the foe. The Greeks renewed The combat with a rage like that of fire. Now meantime the Neleian coursers, steeped In sweat, were bearing Nestor and the prince Machaon from the battle. On the prow Of his great ship, Achilles, swift of foot, Looked forth, and, gazing on the hard-fought fray And the sad rout, beheld them. Then he called His friend Patroclus, shouting from the ship. Patroclus heard, within the tent, and came, Glorious as Mars; - yet with that day began His woes. The gallant Menœtiades Made answer thus: "Why callest thou my name, Achilles, and what needest thou of me?" And thus rejoined Achilles, swift of foot: - "Son of Menœtius, nobly born, and well Beloved by me, the Greeks, I deem, will soon Be at my knees, imploring aid; for now A hard necessity besets their host. But go, Patroclus, dear to Jove, and ask Of Nestor who it is that he hath brought Thus wounded from the field. Seen from behind, His form was like Machaon, — wholly like That son of Esculapius; but the face I saw not, as the rapid steeds flew by." He spake. Patroclus hearkened to his friend, And hastened to the Grecian tents and ships. Now when they reached the tent of Neleus' son, The warriors in the chariot set their feet Upon the nourishing earth. Eurymedon, The old man's charioteer, took from the mares Their harness; while the chieftains cooled themselves, And dried their sweaty garments in the breeze, Facing the border of the sea, and then, Entering the tent of Nestor, sat them down On couches. Hecamedé, bright of hair, Prepared for them a mingled draught; the maid, A daughter of the great Arsinoüs, came From Tenedos with Nestor, when the town Was ravaged by Achilles, and the Greeks Gave her to Nestor, chosen from the rest For him, as wisest of their counsellors. First she drew forth a table fairly wrought, Of polished surface, and with steel-blue feet, And on it placed a brazen tray which bore A thirst-provoking omen, - honeycomb, And sacred meal of wheat. Near these she set A noble beaker which the ancient chief Had brought from home, embossed with studs of gold. Four were its handles, and each handle showed Two golden turtles feeding, while below Two others formed the base. Another hand Could scarce have raised that beaker from its place, But Nestor lifted it with ease. The maid, Fair as a goddess, mingled Pramnian wine, And grated o'er it, with a rasp of brass, A goat's-milk cheese, and, sprinkling the white flour Upon it, bade them drink. With this they quenched Their parching thirst, and then amused the time With pleasant talk. Patroclus to the door Meantime, a godlike presence, came, and stood. The old man, as he saw him, instantly Rose from his princely seat and seized his hand, And led him in and bade him sit; but he Refused the proffered courtesy, and said : - "Nay, 't is no time to sit: persuade me not, Nursling of Jove; for he is to be feared, And prone to wrath, who sent me to inquire What wounded man is with thee; but I know, - Now that I see Machaon sitting here, The shepherd of the people. I must haste Back to Achilles, bearing my report. Thou knowest, ancient chief, how quick he is To take offence and blame the innocent." Then Nestor, the Gerenian knight, rejoined: - "Why does Achilles pity thus the sons Of Greece when wounded? Little can he know What sorrow reigns throughout the Grecian host While, smitten in the close or distant fight, Our bravest lie disabled in their ships. The valiant son of Tydeus - Diomed - Is wounded; wounded Agamemnon lies, And the great wielder of the javelin, Ulysses. By an arrow in the thigh Eurypylus is smitten, and I now Bring home this warrior with an arrow-wound. Yet doth Achilles, valiant as he is, Care nothing for the Greeks. Will he then wait Till our swift galleys, moored upon the shore, After a vain defence shall feed the flames Lit by the enemy's hand, and we be slain, And perish, heaps on heaps? My strength is now Not that which dwelt in these once active limbs. Would I were strong and vigorous as of yore, When strife arose between our men and those Of Elis for our oxen driven away, And, driving off their beeves in turn, I slew The Elean chief, the brave Itymoneus, Son of Hypirochus! For, as he sought To save his herd, a javelin from my arm Smote him the first among his band. He fell; His rustic followers fled on every side; And mighty was the spoil we took: of beeves We drave off fifty herds, as many flocks Of sheep, of swine as many, and of goats An equal number, and of yellow steeds Thrice fifty; - these were mares, and by their sides Ran many a colt. We drave them all within Neleian Pylos in the night. Well pleased Was Neleus, that so large a booty fell To me, who entered on the war so young. When morning brake, the heralds' cry was heard Summoning all the citizens to meet To whom from fruitful Elis debts were due; And then the princes of the Pyleans came, And made division of the spoil. For much The Epeians owed us: we were yet but few In Pylos, and had suffered grievously. The mighty Hercules in former years Had made us feel his wrath, and of our men Had slain the bravest: of the twelve who drew Their birth from Neleus, I alone am left; The others fell. The Epeians brazen-mailed Saw this, delighted, and insulted us And did us wrong. When now the spoil was shared The old man for himself reserved a herd Of oxen, and a numerous flock of sheep, - Three hundred, with their shepherds, - for to him Large debts were due in Elis. He had sent Four horses once, of peerless speed, with cars, To win a tripod, the appointed prize. Augeias, king of men, detained them there, And sent the grieving charioteer away. My father, angered at the monarch's words And acts, took large amends, and gave the rest To share among the people, that no one Might leave the ground, defrauded of his right. All this was justly done, and we performed Due sacrifices to the gods, throughout The city; - when the third day came, and brought The Epeians all at once, in all their strength, - Both men on foot and prancing steeds. With these Came the Molions, fully armed, though young And yet untrained to war. There is a town Named Thryoëssa, on a lofty hill Far off beside Alpheius, on the edge Of sandy Pylos. They beleaguered this, And sought to overthrow it. As they crossed The plain, Minerva came, a messenger, By night from Mount Olympus, bidding us Put on our armor. Not unwillingly The Pyleans mustered, but in eager haste For battle. Yet did Neleus not consent That I should arm myself, - he hid my steeds; For still he deemed me inexpert in war. Yet even then, although I fought on foot, I won great honor even among the knights; For so had Pallas favored me. A stream Named Minyëius pours into the sea Near to Arena, where the Pylean knights Waited the coming of the holy morn, While those who fought on foot came thronging in. Thence, with our host complete, and all in arms, We marched, and reached at noon the sacred stream Alpheius, where to Jove Omnipotent We offered chosen victims, and a bull To the river-god, another to the god Of ocean, and a heifer yet unbroke To blue-eyed Pallas. Then we banqueted, In bands, throughout the army, and lay down In armor by the river-side to sleep. Meantime the brave Epeians stood around The city, resolute to lay it waste. But first was to be done a mighty work Of war; for as the glorious sun appeared Above the earth we dashed against the foe, Praying to Jove and Pallas. When the fight Between the Eleans and the Pylean host Was just begun, I slew a youthful chief, - Mulius, and bore away his firm-paced steeds. The fair-haired Agamedé, eldest-born Of King Augeias' daughters, was his spouse; And well to her each healing herb was known That springs from the great earth. As he drew near, I smote him with my brazen lance: he fell To earth: I sprang into his car, and stood Among the foremost warriors; while, around, The brave Epeians, as they saw him fall, - The leader of their knights, their mightiest In battle, -turned and, panic-stricken, fled, Each his own way. And now I should have slain The young Molions also, Actor's sons, Had not their father, he who shakes the earth, Enshrouded them in mist, and hidden them From all pursuit. Then with victorious might Did Jove endue our arms, while we pursued The foe across a region strewn with shields, Slaying, and gathering spoil, - until our steeds Came to Buprasium, rich in fields of wheat, And to the Olenian rock, and to the hill Alesium in Coloné. Pallas there Stayed our pursuit, and bade our host return. There slew I the last man, and left him there. And then the Achaians, guiding their swift steeds Homeward to Pylos from Buprasium, gave Great thanks to Jupiter among the gods, And Nestor among men. Such was I then Among the heroes; but Achilles keeps His valor for himself alone, - and yet Bitterly must he grieve when he beholds Our people perish. O my friend! how well Menœtius charged thee when he sent thee forth, From Phthia, to Atrides! We were both - The nobly-born Ulysses and myself- Within the palace, and we clearly heard What he commanded thee. For we had come To Peleus' stately dwelling, on our way Gathering a host in fertile Greece, and saw The great Menœtius there, and there we found Achilles with thee. There the aged knight Peleus was burning, in the palace-court, A steer's fat thighs to Jove the Thunderer, And lifted up a golden cup and poured Dark wine upon the blazing sacrifice. And both of you were busy with the flesh When we were at the threshold. As he saw Our coming, in surprise Achilles sprang Toward us, and took our hands and led us in, Bade us be seated, and before us placed The generous banquet due to stranger-guests. Then, having feasted, I began discourse, Exhorting you to join us. Both of you At once consented, and your fathers gave Their admonitions. Aged Peleus charged His son Achilles to excel the rest In valor, while Menœtius, in his turn, The son of Actor, gave thee this command: - "'My son, Achilles is the nobler born, But thou art elder. He surpasses thee By far in warlike might, but thou must prompt His mind with prudent counsels; thou must warn And guide him; he will hearken to thy words Meant for his good.' The old man charged thee thus. Thou hast forgotten it. Yet speak thou now To Peleus' warlike son; and haply he May heed thy counsels. Thou perchance may'st bend His will-who knows? - by thy persuasive words; For wholesome are the warnings of a friend. Yet, if he shrink from some predicted doom, Or if his goddess-mother have revealed Aught of Jove's counsels to him, then, at least Let him send thee to war, and let his troop Of Myrmidons go with thee, so that thou May'st carry succor to the Greeks. Yet more, — Let him permit thee in the field to wear His glorious armor, that the Trojan host, Beholding thee so like to him, may shun The combat, and the warlike sons of Greece, Hard-pressed, may breathe again, and find at length A respite from the conflict. Ye, who still Are fresh and vigorous, shall assault and drive Townward the weary foe from camp and fleet." He spake. The spirit of the youth took fire, And instantly he hastened toward the ships Of Peleus' son. But when he came where lay The galleys of Ulysses the divine, Where was the assembly-place and judgment-seat, And where the altars of the immortals stood, Evæmon's noble son, Eurypylus, Met him as from the battle-field he came Halting, and with an arrow in his thigh. The sweat ran down his shoulders and his brow, And the black blood was oozing from his wound, Yet was his spirit untamed. The gallant youth, Son of Menœtius, saw with grief, and said: - "Unhappy chiefs and princes of the Greeks! Are ye then doomed to feast with your fair limbs The famished dogs of Ilium, far away From friends and country? Tell me, child of Jove, Gallant Eurypylus, will yet the Greeks Withstand the mighty Hector, or give way And perish, overtaken by his spear?" And thus the wise Eurypylus replied: - "Nursling of Jove, Patroclus! there can be No help for Greece, and we at our black ships Must perish; for within them even now All those who were our bravest warriors lie, Wounded in close encounter, or from far, By Trojan hands, whose strength with every hour Becomes more terrible. Give now thine aid And take me to my ship, and cut away The arrow from my thigh, and from the part Cleanse with warm water the dark blood, and shed Soothing and healing balms upon the wound, As taught thee by Achilles, who had learned The art from Chiron, righteous in his day Beyond all other Centaurs. Now the leech Machaon lies, I think, among the tents, Wounded, and needs the aid of others' skill, And Podalirius out upon the plain Helps stem the onset of the Trojan host." Then spake the valiant Menetiades: - "O brave Eurypylus! what yet will be The end of this, and what are we to do? Even now I bear a message on my way From reverend Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, To the great warrior, Peleus' son; and yet I must not leave thee in thine hour of need." He spake; and, lifting in his arms the prince, He bore him to his tent. A servant spread, Upon his entering, hides to form a couch; And there Patroclus laid him down and cut The rankling arrow from his thigh, and shed Warm water on the wound to cleanse away The purple blood, and last applied a root Of bitter flavor to assuage the smart, Bruising it first within his palms: the pangs Ceased; the wound dried; the blood no longer flowed.
BOOK XII. THUS in the camp Menœtius' valiant son Tended Eurypylus, and dressed his wounds; While yet in mingled throngs the warriors fought, — Trojans and Greeks. Nor longer was the trench A barrier for the Greeks, nor the broad wall Which they had built above it to defend Their fleet; for all around it they had drawn The trench, yet not with chosen hecatombs Paid to the gods, that so it might protect The galleys and the heaps of spoil they held. Without the favor of the gods it rose, And therefore was not long to stand entire. As long as Hector lived, and Peleus' son Was angered, and King Priam's city yet Was not o'erthrown, so long the massive wall Built by the Greeks stood firm. But when at length The bravest of the Trojans had been slain, And many of the Greeks were dead, -though still Others survived, - and when in the tenth year The city of Priam fell, and in their ships The Greeks went back to their beloved land, Then did Apollo and the god of sea Consult together to destroy the wall By turning on it the resistless might Of rivers, all that from the Idæan heights Flow to the ocean, - Rhesus, Granicus, Heptaporus, Caresus, Rhodius, Æsepus, and Scamander's hallowed stream, And Simoïs, in whose bed lay many shields And helms and bodies of slain demigods. Phœbus Apollo turned the mouths of these All toward one spot; nine days against the wall He bade their currents rush, while Jupiter Poured constant rain, that floods might overwhelm The rampart; and the god who shakes the earth, Wielding his trident, led the rivers on. He flung among the billows the huge beams And stones which, with hard toil, the Greeks had laid For the foundations. Thus he levelled all Beside the hurrying Hellespont, destroyed The bulwarks utterly, and overspread The long broad shore with sand; and then he brought Again the rivers to the ancient beds In which their gently flowing waters ran. This yet was to be done in time to come By Neptune and Apollo. Meanwhile raged Battle and tumult round that strong-built wall. The towers in, all their timbers rang with blows; And, driven as by the scourge of Jove, the Greeks, Hemmed closely in beside their roomy ships, Trembled at Hector, the great scatterer Of squadrons, fighting, as he did before, With all a whirlwind's might. As when a boar Or lion mid the hounds and huntsmen stands, Fearfully strong, and fierce of eye, and they In square array assault him, and their hands Fling many a javelin; - yet his noble heart Fears not, nor does he fly, although at last His courage cause his death; and oft he turns, And tries their ranks; and where he makes a rush The ranks give way; - so Hector moved and turned Among the crowd, and bade his followers cross The trench. The swift-paced horses ventured not The leap, but stood upon the edge and neighed Aloud, for the wide space affrighted them; And hard it was to spring across, or pass From side to side, for on each side the brink Was steep, and bristled with sharp stakes, close set And strong, which there the warrior sons of Greece Had planted, a defence against the foe. No steed that whirled the rapid car along Could enter, but the soldiery on foot Eagerly sought to pass, and in these words Polydamas to daring Hector spake:- "Hector, and ye who lead the troops of Troy And our auxiliars! rashly do we seek To urge our rapid steeds across the trench So hard to pass, beset with pointed stakes, - And the Greek wall so near. The troops of horse Cannot descend nor combat there: the space Is narrow: they would all be slain. If Jove, The Thunderer of the skies, design to crush The Greeks and succor Troy, I should rejoice Were the design at once fulfilled, and all The sons of Greece ingloriously cut off, Far from their Argos. But if they should turn Upon us, and repulse us from their fleet, And we become entangled in the trench, I deem no messenger would e'er go back To Troy from fighting with the rallied Greeks. Heed, then, my words, and let the charioteers Stay with the coursers at the trench, while we, Armed, and on foot, and all in close array, Follow our Hector. For the Greeks in vain Will strive to stem our onset if, in truth, The hour of their destruction be at hand." So spake Polydamas; and Hector, pleased To hear the prudent counsel, leaped to earth With all his arms, and left his car. The rest Rode with their steeds no more, but, hastily Dismounting, as they saw their noble chief, Each bade his charioteer hold back his steeds, Reined at the trench, in ranks. And then, apart, They mustered in five columns, following close Their leaders. First, the largest, bravest band, Those who, with resolute daring, longed to break The rampart and to storm the fleet, were led By Hector and the good Polydamas, Joined with Cebriones, - for Hector left His chariot to the care of one who held An humbler station than Cebriones. Paris, Alcathoüs, and Agenor led A second squadron. Helenus, a son Of Priam, and Deïphobus, a youth Of godlike form, his brother, took command Of yet a third, - with whom in rank was joined The hero Asius, son of Hyrtacus, Whose bright-haired coursers, of majestic size, Had borne him from Arisba and the banks Of Selleis. Æneas led the fourth, - The brave son of Anchises; and with him Were joined Archilochus and Acamas, Sons of Antenor, skilled in arts of war. The band of Troy's illustrious allies Followed Sarpedon, who from all the rest Had chosen, to partake in the command, Glaucus and brave Asteropæus. These He deemed the bravest under him; yet he Stood foremost of them all in warlike might. Then all, with their stout bucklers of bull's-hide Adjusted to each other, bravely marched Against the Greeks, who, as they deemed, must fly Before them, and must fall by their black ships. Then all the other Trojans, and the allies From foreign shores, obeyed the counsel given By good Polydamas; but Asius, son Of Hyrtacus, and prince of men, chose not To leave his chariot and his charioteer, But drave with them against the roomy ships. Vain youth! - he was not destined to return, Borne by his steeds and chariot, from the fleet, And from the fate he braved, to wind-swept Troy. His evil fate o'ertook him from the spear Of great Idomeneus, Deucalion's son; For toward the galleys moored upon the left He hastened by the way in which the Greeks, With steeds and cars, retreated from the plain. Thither he drave his coursers; there he found The gates not closed, nor the long bar across, But warriors held them open to receive In safety their companions as they fled From battle to the fleet. Exultingly He turned his coursers thither, and his men Followed him, shouting; for they thought the Greeks Could not abide their onset, but must yield, And perish by their ships. Deluded men! - They met two mighty warriors at the gate, - The brave descendants of the Lapithæ, That warlike tribe: Pirithoüs' gallant son Was one, named Polypœtes; with him stood Leonteus, strong as Mars the slayer of men. By the tall gates they stood, as giant oaks Stand on the mountains and defy the wind And the tempestuous rains of all the year, Firm-planted on their strong and spreading roots. So they, confiding in their strength of arm, Waited for mighty Asius hasting on, And fled not. Onward came the hostile troop, With their tough shields uplifted, and with shouts: All rushing toward the massive wall they came, Following King Asius, and Iamenus, Orestes, Thoön, Acamas the son Of Asius, and Œnomaüs. Meanwhile Leonteus and his comrade had retired Within, encouraging the well-armed Greeks To combat for the fleet; but when they saw The rout and panic of their flying host, They darted forth and fought before the gates, — Fought like wild boars that in the mountains meet A clamorous troop of men and dogs, and dart Sideway at their assailants, break the trees Close to the root, and fiercely gnash their tusks, Until some javelin strikes them, and they die. So on the breasts of the two warriors rang The shining brass, oft smitten; for they fought Fearlessly, trusting in the aid of those Who held the wall, and their own valiant arms. And they who stood on the strong towers hurled down Stones, to defend the Achaians and their tents And their swift ships. As snow-flakes fall to earth When strong winds, driving on the shadowy cloud, Shower them upon the nourishing glebe, so thick Were showered the weapons from the hands of Greeks And Trojans; and the helms and bossy shields, Beaten by stones, resounded. Asius then - The son of Hyrtacus-in anger groaned, And smote his thighs impatiently, and said: - "O Father Jove! thou then art wholly false. I did not look to see the men of Greece Stand thus before our might and our strong arms; Yet they, like pliant-bodied wasps or bees, That build their cells beside the rocky way, And quit not their abode, but, waiting there The hunter, combat for their young - so these, Although but two, withdraw not from the gates, Nor will, till they be slain or seized alive." He spake; but moved not thus the will of Jove, Who planned to give the glory of the day To Hector. Meanwhile, at the other gates Fought other warriors, but 't were hard for me, Were I a god, to tell of all their deeds; For round the wall on every side there raged, Fierce as consuming fire, a storm of stones. The Greeks, in bitter anguish, yet constrained, Fought for their fleet; and sorrowful were all The gods who in the battle favored Greece. Now the two Lapithæ began the fight. Pirithoüs' son, brave Polypætes, cast His spear at Damasus; it broke its way Through the helm's brazen cheek, - nor that alone: Right through the temple went the brazen blade, And crushed the brain within. He left him slain, And next struck Pylon down, and Ormenus. Leonteus, of the stock of Mars, assailed Hippomachus, who from Antimachus Derived his birth; he pierced him at the belt, And, drawing forth his trenchant sword, hewed down, In combat hand-to-hand, Antiphates; He dashed him backward to the ground, and next Smote Menon and Iamenus; and last He slew Orestes: at his feet they lay, A pile of dead, upon their mother Earth. Then, as the twain were stripping from the dead Their glittering arms, the largest, bravest band Of those who eagerly desired to break The rampart and to burn the ships with fire, Following Polydamas and Hector, stood Consulting at the trench. An augury, Just as they were in act to cross, appeared Upon the left: an eagle high in air, Between the armies, in his talons bore A monstrous serpent, bleeding, yet alive And palpitating, - nor disabled yet For combat; for it turned, and on the breast Wounded the eagle, near the neck. The bird In pain let fall his prize amid the host, And flew away, with screams, upon the wind. The Trojans shuddered at the spotted snake Lying among them, and Polydamas Said thus to fearless Hector, standing near:- "Hector, thou almost ever chidest me In council, even when I judge aright. I know it ill becomes the citizen To speak against the way that pleases thee, In war or council, - he should rather seek To strengthen thy authority; yet now I will declare what seems to me the best: Let us not combat with the Greeks, to take Their fleet; for this, I think, will be the end, - If now the omen we have seen be meant For us of Troy who seek to cross the trench; - This eagle, flying high upon the left, Between the hosts, that in his talons bore A monstrous serpent, bleeding, yet alive, Hath dropped it mid our host before he came To his dear nest, nor brought it to his brood; - So we, although by force we break the gates And rampart, and although the Greeks fall back, Shall not as happily retrace our way; For many a Trojan shall we leave behind, Slain by the weapons of the Greeks, who stand And fight to save their fleet. Thus will the seer, Skilled in the lore of prodigies, explain The portent, and the people will obey." Sternly the crested Hector looked, and spake:- "Polydamas, the thing that thou hast said Pleases me not, and easily couldst thou Frame better counsels. If thy words convey Thy earnest thought, the gods assuredly Have made thee lose thy senses. Thou dost ask That I no longer reverence the decree Of Jove, the Thunderer of the sky, who gave His promise, and confirmed it. Thou dost ask That I be governed by the flight of birds, Which I regard not, whether to the right And toward the morning and the sun they fly, Or toward the left and evening. We should heed The will of mighty Jupiter, who bears Rule over gods and men. One augury There is, the surest and the best, -to fight For our own land. Why dreadest thou the war And conflict? Though we all should fall beside The galleys of the Greeks, there is no fear That thou wilt perish, for thou hast no heart To stand against the foe; - no warrior thou! Yet, if thou dare to stand aloof, or seek By words to turn another from the fight, The spear I wield shall take thy life at once." He spake, and went before; and all his band Followed with fearful clamor. Jupiter, The God of thunders, sending a strong wind From the Idæan summits, drave the dust Full on the galleys, and made faint the hearts Of the Greek warriors, and gave new renown To Hector and the men of Troy. For these, Trusting in portents sent from Jupiter, And their own valor, labored to break through The massive rampart of the Greeks: they tore The galleries from the towers, and levelled down The breastworks, heaved with levers from their place The jutting buttresses which Argive hands Had firmly planted to support the towers, And brought them to the ground; and thus they hoped To force a passage to the Grecian camp. Not yet did they of Greece give way: they fenced The rampart with their ox-hide shields, and smote The enemy from behind them as he came Under the wall. The chieftains Ajax flew From tower to tower, and cheered the Achaians on, And roused their valor, - some with gentle words, And some with harsh rebuke, - whome'er they saw Skulk from the toils and dangers of the fight. "O friends!" they said, "ye great in war, and ye Of less renown, and ye of little note! - For all are not alike in war, - the time Demands the aid of all, as well ye know: And now let no man turn him toward the fleet Before the threats of Hector, but press on, And each exhort his fellow: so may Jove, Who flings the lightning from Olympus, grant That, driving back their onset, we may chase The enemy to the very walls of Troy." Thus in the van they shouted, and awoke New courage in the Greeks. As when the flakes Of snow fall thick upon a winter-day, When Jove the Sovereign pours them down on men, Like arrows, from above; - he bids the wind Breathe not; continually he pours them down, And covers every mountain-top and peak, And flowery mead, and field of fertile tilth, And sheds them on the havens and the shores Of the gray deep; but there the waters bound The covering of snows, - all else is white Beneath that fast-descending shower of Jove; — So thick the shower of stones from either side Flew toward the other, - from the Greeks against The Trojans, and from them against the Greeks; And fearful was the din along the wall. Yet would illustrious Hector and the men Of Troy have failed to force the gates and burst The bar within, had not all-seeing Jove Impelled his son Sarpedon to attack The Greeks as falls a lion on a herd Of horned beeves. The warrior held his shield, A brazen orb, before him, - beautiful, And fenced with metal; for the armorer laid Broad plates without, while under these he sewed Bull's-hides the toughest, edged with golden wires Upon the rim. With this the warrior came, Wielding two spears. As when a lion, bred Among the mountains, fasting long from flesh, Comes into the fenced pastures, without fear, To prey upon the flock; and though he meet The shepherds keeping watch with dogs and spears, Yet will he not be driven thence until He makes a spring into the fold and bears A sheep away, or in the act is slain, Struck by a javelin from some ready hand; - Sarpedon, godlike warrior, thus was moved By his great heart to storm the wall and break Through the strong barrier; and to Glaucus, son Of Lycia's king Hippolochus, he said: - "Why, Glaucus, are we honored, on the shores Of Lycia, with the highest seat at feasts, And with full cups? Why look men up to us As to the gods? And why do we possess Broad, beautiful enclosures, full of vines And wheat, beside the Xanthus? Then it well Becomes us, foremost in the Lycian ranks To stand against the foe, where'er the fight Is hottest; so our well-armed Lycian men Shall say, and truly: 'Not ingloriously Our kings bear rule in Lycia, where they feast On fatlings of the flock, and drink choice wine; For they excel in valor, and they fight Among our foremost.' O my friend, if we, Leaving this war, could flee from age and death, I should not here be fighting in the van, Nor would I send thee to the glorious war; But now, since many are the modes of death Impending o'er us, which no man can hope To shun, let us press on and give renown To other men, or win it for ourselves!" He spake; and Glaucus not unwillingly Heard and obeyed. Right on the warriors pressed, Leading the Lycian host. Menestheus, son Of Peteus, saw, and trembled; for they came With evil menace toward his tower. He looked Along the Grecian lines in hope to see Some chieftain there whose ready help might save His comrades from their danger. He beheld The rulers Ajax, never tired of war, Standing with Teucer, who just then had left His tent; and yet they could not hear his shout, So fearful was the din that rose to heaven From all the shields, and crested helms, and gates, Smitten with missiles, - for at all the gates The Lycians thundered, struggling hard to break A passage through them. Then Menestheus called A herald near, and bade Thoötes bear A message to the leaders Ajax, thus:- "Go, nobly-born Thoötes, and in haste Call Ajax, - call them both, for that were best, - Since terrible will be the slaughter here, So fiercely are the Lycians pressing on, Impetuous ever in assault. If there The fight be also urgent, then at least Let the brave Telamonian Ajax come, And Teucer, the great archer, follow him." He spake. The herald listened and obeyed, And flew along the summit of the wall Built by the Greeks. He reached, and stood beside, The chieftains Ajax, and addressed them thus:- "Ajaces, leaders of the warlike Greeks, The honored son of noble Peteus asks That ye will come, though for a little space, To aid him and to share his warlike toils; For terrible will be the slaughter there, So fiercely are the Lycians pressing on, Impetuous ever in assault. If here The fight be also urgent, then at least Let the brave Telamonian Ajax come, And Teucer, the great archer, follow him." He ended. Ajax, son of Telamon, Hearkened, and to his fellow-warrior said: - "Here, where the gallant Lycomedes stands, Ajax! remain, and, cheering on the Greeks, Lead them to combat valiantly. I go To stem the battle there, and when our friends Are succored I will instantly return." So speaking, Ajax, son of Telamon, Departed thence, and with him Teucer, sprung From the same father. With them also went Pandion, carrying Teucer's crooked bow. They came to brave Menestheus at his tower, And went within the wall and met their friends, Hard-pressed, — for gallantly the Lycian chiefs And captains, like a gloomy tempest, rushed Up the tall breastworks; while the Greeks withstood Their onset, and a mighty clamor rose. Then Telamonian Ajax smote to death Epicles, great of soul, Sarpedon's friend: Against that chief he cast a huge, rough stone, That lay high up beside a pinnacle Within the wall. No man with both his hands, - Such men as now are, - though in prime of youth, Could lift its weight; and yet he wielded it Aloft, and flung it. Through the four-coned helm It crashed, and brake the skull within. Down plunged The Lycian, like a diver, from his place On the high tower, and life forsook his limbs. Then Teucer also wounded with a shaft Glaucus, the brave son of Hippolochus, As he leaped forth to scale the lofty wall, - Wounded him where the naked arm was seen, And made him leave the combat. Back he sprang, Hiding amid the crowd, that so the Greeks Might not behold the wounded limb, and scoff. With grief Sarpedon saw his friend withdraw, Yet paused not from the conflict, but took aim At Thestor's son, Alcmaon, with his spear; Pierced him; and drew the weapon out. The Greek, Following the spear, fell headlong; and his arms, Studded with brass, clashed round him as he fell. Then did Sarpedon seize, with powerful hands, The battlement; he wrenched it, and it came To earth, and laid the rampart's summit bare, To make a passage for the assailing host. Ajax and Teucer saw, and both took aim Together at Sarpedon: Teucer's shaft Struck in the midst the buckler's glittering belt, Just at the bosom; but Jove warded off The death-stroke from his son, lest he should fall Beside the galleys. Ajax, springing, struck The buckler with his spear, and pierced its folds, And checked the eager warrior, who gave way A little, yet retreated not, but turned, Encouraging the godlike Lycians thus: - "Where, Lycians, is your fiery valor now? Were I the bravest, it were hard, alone, For me to force a passage to the fleet, Though I have cleared the way. Come on with me! Light is the task when many share the toil." He spake; and they who reverenced his words Of exhortation drew more closely round Their counsellor and sovereign, while the Greeks Above them made their phalanxes more strong Within the wall, - for urgent was the need; Since neither could the gallant Lycians break The barrier of the Greeks, and cut their way Through to the fleet, nor could the warlike Greeks Drive back the Lycians when they once had reached The rampart. As two men upon a field, With measuring-rods in hand, disputing stand Over the common boundary, in small space, Each one contending for the right he claims, So, kept asunder by the breastwork, fought The warriors over it, and fiercely struck The orbed bull's-hide shields held up before The breast, and the light targets. Many a one Was smitten when he turned and showed the back Unarmed, and many wounded through the shield. The towers and battlements were steeped in blood Of heroes, - Greeks and Trojans. Yet were not The Greeks thus put to flight; but, as the scales Are held by some just woman, who maintains, By spinning wool, her household, - carefully She poises both the wool and weights, to make The balance even, that she may provide A pittance for her babes, - thus equally Were matched the warring hosts, till Jupiter Conferred the eminent glory of the day On Hector, son of Priam. He it was Who first leaped down into the space within The Grecian wall, and, with far-reaching voice, Thus shouted, calling to the men of Troy: - “Rush on, ye knights of Troy! rush boldly on, And break your passage through the Grecian wall, And hurl consuming flames against their fleet!” So spake he, cheering on his men. They heard, And rushed in mighty throngs against the wall, And climbed the battlements, to charge the foe With spears. Then Hector stooped, and seized a stone Which lay before the gate, broad at the base And sharp above, which two, the strongest men, - As men are now, - could hardly heave from earth Into a wain. With ease he lifted it, Alone, and brandished it: such strength the son Of Saturn gave him, that it seemed but light. As when a shepherd carries home with ease A wether's fleece, he bears it in one hand, And little is he cumbered with its weight, — So Hector bore the lifted stone, to break The beams that strengthened the tall folding-gates. Two bars within, laid crosswise, held them firm, - Both fastened with one bolt. He came and stood Before them; with wide-parted feet he stood, And put forth all his strength, that so his arm Might drive the missile home; and in the midst He smote the folding-gates. The blow tore off The hinges; heavily the great stone fell Within; the portals crashed; nor did the bars Withstand the blow: the shattered beams gave way Before it; and illustrious Hector sprang Into the camp. His look was stern as night; And terribly the brazen armor gleamed That swathed him. With two spears in hand he came, And none except the gods - when once his foot Was on the ground -- could stand before his might. His eyes shot fire, and, turning to his men, He bade them mount the wall; and they obeyed: Some o'er the wall, some through the sculptured gate, Poured in. The Achaians to their roomy ships Fled, and a fearful uproar filled the air.
BOOK XIII. WHEN Jove had brought the Trojans and their chief, Hector, beside the ships, he left them there To toil and struggle and endure, while he Turned his resplendent eyes upon the land Of Thracian horsemen, and the Mysians, skilled To combat hand to hand, and the famed tribe Of long-lived Hippomulgi, reared on milk, And the most just of men. On Troy no more He turned those glorious eyes, for now he deemed That none of all the gods would seek to aid Either the Greeks or Trojans in the strife. The monarch Neptune kept no idle watch; For he in Thracian Samos, dark with woods, Aloft upon the highest summit sat, O'erlooking thence the tumult of the war; For thence could he behold the Idean mount, And Priam's city, and the Grecian fleet. There, coming from the ocean-deeps, he sat, And pitied the Greek warriors put to rout Before the Trojans, and was wroth with Jove. Soon he descended from those rugged steeps, And trod the earth with rapid strides; the hills And forests quaked beneath the immortal feet Of Neptune as he walked. Three strides he took, And at the fourth reached Ægæ, where he stopped, And where his sumptuous palace-halls were built, Deep down in ocean, golden, glittering, proof Against decay of time. These when he reached, He yoked his swift and brazen-footed steeds, With manes of flowing gold, to draw his car, And put on golden mail, and took his scourge, Wrought of fine gold, and climbed the chariot-seat, And rode upon the waves. The whales came forth From their deep haunts, and frolicked round his way: They knew their king. The waves rejoicing smoothed A path, and rapidly the coursers flew; Nor was the brazen axle wet below. And thus they brought him to the Grecian fleet. Deep in the sea there is a spacious cave, Between the rugged Imbrus and the isle Of Tenedos. There Neptune, he who shakes The shores, held back his steeds, took off their yoke, Gave them ambrosial food, and, binding next Their feet with golden fetters which no power Might break or loosen, so that they might wait Their lord's return, he sought the Grecian host. Still did the Trojans, rushing on in crowds, Like flames or like a tempest, follow close Hector, the son of Priam; still their rage Abated not; with stormy cries they came; They hoped to seize the fleet and slay the Greeks Beside it. But the power who swathes the earth And shakes it, Neptune, coming from the deep, Revived the valor of the Greeks. He took The shape of Calchas and his powerful voice, And thus to either Ajax, who yet stemmed The battle with a resolute heart, he spake :- "O chieftains! yours it is to save the host, Recalling your old valor, with no thought Of fatal flight. Elsewhere I feel no dread Of what the daring sons of Troy may do Who climb the wall in throngs; the well-greaved Greeks Will meet them bravely. But where Hector leads, Fierce as a flame, his squadrons, he who boasts To be a son of sovereign Jove, I fear Lest we should sorely suffer. May the gods Strengthen your hearts to stand against the foe, And flinch not, and exhort the rest to stand, And drive him back, audacious as he is, From the swift ships, though Jove should urge him on." Thus earth-surrounding Neptune said, and touched Each hero with his sceptre, filled their hearts With valor, gave new lightness to their limbs And feet and hands, and then, as when a hawk Shoots swiftly from some lofty precipice And chases o'er the plain another bird, So swiftly Neptune, shaker of the shores, Darted from them away. Oïleus' son Perceived the immortal presence first, and thus At once to Telamonian Ajax spake:- "Some god, O Ajax, from the Olympian hill, Wearing the augur's form, hath bid us fight Beside the ships; nor can it be the seer Calchas, for well I marked his feet and legs As he departed; easily by these The gods are known. I feel a spirit roused In my own bosom eager to engage In the fierce strife; my very feet below, And hands above, take part in the desire." And thus the son of Telamon replied: - "So also these strong hands that grasp the spear Burn eagerly to wield it, and my heart Is full of courage. I am hurried on By both my feet, and vehemently long To try alone the combat with this chief Of boundless valor, Hector, Priam's son.” Thus they conferred, rejoicing as they felt That ardor for the battle which the god Had breathed into their hearts. Meantime he roused The Achaians at the rear, who in their ships Sought respite, and whose limbs were faint with toil, And their hearts sad to see the Trojan host With tumult pouring o'er the lofty wall. As they beheld, the tears came gushing forth From underneath their lids; they little hoped For rescue from destruction; but when came The power that shakes the shores, he woke anew The spirit of their valiant phalanxes. Teucer he first addressed, and Leïtus, The hero Peneleus and Thoas next, Deipyrus, Meriones expert In battle, and Antilochus his peer, And thus exhorted them with winged words:- "Shame on you, Argive youths! I put my trust In your tried valor to defend our fleet; But if ye fear to face the perilous fight, The day has risen which shall behold us fall Vanquished before the Trojans. O ye gods! These eyes have seen a marvel, a strange sight And terrible, which I had never thought Could be, the Trojans close upon our ships, They who, erewhile, were like the timid deer That wander in the wood an easy prey To jackals, pards, and wolves, - weak things, unapt For combat, fleeing, but without an aim. Such were the Trojans, who till now ne'er dared Withstand the might and prowess of the Greeks Even for an hour. But now, afar from Troy They give us battle at the hollow ships, All through our general's fault, and through the sloth Of the Greek warriors, who, displeased with him, Fight not for their swift galleys, but are slain Beside them. Yet although our sovereign chief, Atrides Agamemnon, may have done Foul wrong, dishonoring the swift-footed son Of Peleus, still ye cannot without blame Decline the combat. Let us then repair The mischief done; the hearts of valiant men Are soon appeased. And not without the loss Of honor can your fiery courage sleep, Since ye are known the bravest of the host. I would not chide the weak, unwarlike man For shrinking from the combat; but for you, - I look on you with anger in my heart. Weaklings! ye soon will bring upon yourselves Some sorer evil if ye loiter thus. Let each of you bethink him of the shame And infamy impending. Terrible The struggle is before us. Hector storms The ships, loud-shouting Hector; he has burst The gate and broken the protecting bar." So Neptune spake, encouraging the Greeks. While firmly stood the serried phalanxes Round either Ajax, nor could Mars himself, Nor Pallas, musterer of armèd hosts, Reprove their order. There the flower of Greece Waited the Trojans and their noble chief, Spear beside spear, and shield by shield, so close That buckler pressed on buckler, helm on helm, And man on man. The plumes of horse-hair touched Each other as they nodded on the crests Of the bright helms, so close the warriors stood, The lances quivered in the fearless hands Of warriors eager to advance and strike The enemy. But the men of Troy began The assault; the fiery Hector was the first To rush against the Greeks. As when a stone Rolls from a cliff before a wintry flood That sweeps it down the steep, when mighty rains Have worn away the props that held it fast; It rolls and bounds on high; the woods around Crash, as it tears its unresisted way Along the slope until it reach the plain, And there, however urged, moves on no more; - So Hector, menacing to cut his way Through tents and galleys to the very sea, Slaying as he went forward, when he now Met the firm phalanxes and pressed them close, Stopped suddenly; the sons of Greece withstood His onset and repulsed it, striking him With swords and two-edged spears, and made the chief Give way before the shock. He lifted up His voice and shouted to the Trojans thus:- "Trojans and Lycians and Dardanians skilled In fighting hand to hand, stand firm. Not long Will the Greeks bide my onset, though drawn up Square as a tower in close array. My spear, I trust, will scatter them, if true it be That Juno's husband, Sovereign of the gods, And Lord of thunders, prompts my arm to-day." He spake, and kindled in the breasts of all Fresh courage. In the band Deiphobus Marched proudly, Priam's son, with his round shield Before him, walking with a quick, light step Behind its shelter. Then Meriones Aimed at the chief his glittering spear; the point Missed not; it struck the orb of bullock's hide, Yet did not pierce it, for the weapon broke Just at the neck. Deiphobus held forth His shield far from him, dreading to receive A spear-thrust from the brave Meriones. Vexed thus to lose the victory, and the spear Snapped by the blow, Meriones fell back Into the column of his friends, and passed Hastily toward the camp and ships, to bring A powerful spear that stood within his tent, While others fought, and fearful was the din. Then Teucer first, the son of Telamon, Smote gallant Imbrius, son of Mentor, lord Of many steeds. He, ere the Greeks had come To Troy, dwelt at Pedæum and espoused Medesicasta, Priam's spurious child. But when the well-oared galleys of the Greeks Mustered at Troy, he also came, and there Was eminent among her chiefs, and dwelt With Priam, and was honored as his son. The son of Telamon beneath the ear Pierced him with his long javelin, and drew forth The weapon. Headlong to the earth he fell. As on a mountain height, descried from far, Hewn by a brazen axe, an ash is felled And lays its tender sprays upon the ground, Thus Imbrius fell, and round him in his fall Clashed his bright armor. Teucer sprang in haste To spoil the dead, but Hector hurled at him His shining spear; the wary Teucer stepped Aside, and just escaped the brazen blade. It struck Amphimachus, Cteatus' son, And Actor's grandson; as he came to join The battle, he was smitten in the breast, And fell, his armor clashing round his limbs. Then Hector flew in haste to tear away From the large-souled Amphimachus the helm That cased his temples. Ajax saw, and hurled His glittering spear at Hector as he came: It made no wound; for Hector stood equipped All o'er in formidable brass. The spear Struck on the bossy shield with such a shock As forced him to recoil, and leave unspoiled The bodies, which the Achaians dragged away. For Stichius and Menestheus, chief among The Athenians, bore the dead Amphimachus To the Greek camp, while the two men of might, The chieftains Ajax, lifted Imbrius up; And as two lions, bearing off among The close-grown shrubs a goat, which they have snatched From sharp-toothed dogs, uplift it in their jaws Above the ground, so the two warriors raised The corpse of Imbrius, and stripped off the mail, While, angered that Amphilochus was slain, Oileus' son struck from the tender neck The head, and sent it far among the crowd, Whirled like a ball, to fall at Hector's feet. Meantime was Neptune moved with grief to see His grandson perish in that desperate fray, And passed among the Achaian tents and ships Encouraging the men, and planning woes For Ilium. There he met Idomeneus, Expert to wield the spear, as he returned From caring for a comrade who had left The battle, wounded in the knee, and whom His friends had carried in. Idomeneus Had called the surgeons to his aid, and now Was hastening to the field, intent to bear His part in battle. Him the monarch god Of ocean thus addressed, but first he took The voice of Thoas, King Andræmon's son, Whose father ruled the Ætolians through the bounds Of Pleuron, and in lofty Calydon, And like a god was honored in the land. "O counsellor of Crete, Idomeneus! Where are the threats which late the sons of Greece Uttered against the Trojans?" Promptly came The Cretan leader's answer: "No man here, O Thoas, seems blameworthy, for we all Are skilled in war, nor does unmanly fear Hold any back; nor from the difficult strife Does sloth detain one warrior. So it is Doubtless that it seems good to Saturn's son, The All-disposer, that the Greeks, afar From Argos, should ingloriously fall And perish. Thoas, thou wert ever brave, And didst exhort the laggards. Cease not now To combat, cease not to exhort the rest." And Neptune, he who shakes the earth, rejoined: "Idomeneus, whoever keeps aloof From battle, willingly, to-day, may he Never return from Troy, but be the prey Of dogs. Take thou thy arms and come with me, For we must quit ourselves like men, and strive To aid our cause, although we be but two. Great is the strength of feeble arms combined, And we can combat even with the brave." So speaking, Neptune turned to share the toils Of war. Idomeneus, who now had reached His princely tent, put on his glorious mail, And seized two spears, and flew upon his way, Like lightning grasped by Saturn's son and flung Quivering above Olympus' gleaming peak, A sign to mortals, dazzled by the blaze, So glittered, as he ran, his brazen mail. His fellow-warrior, good Meriones, Met him beside the tent, for he had come To fetch a brazen javelin thence, and thus The stout Idomeneus addressed his friend: - "O son of Molus, swift Meriones, Dearest of all my comrades! Why hast thou Thus left the battle-field? Hast thou a wound, - A weapon's point that galls thee? Dost thou bring A message to me? Think not that I sit Within my tent an idler; I must fight." Discreetly did Meriones reply: - "Idomeneus, whose sovereign counsels rule The well-armed Cretans, I am come to seek A spear if one be left within thy tents. I broke the one I bore, in hurling it Against the shield of fierce Deiphobus." The Cretan chief, Idomeneus, rejoined: - "If spears thou seek, there stand within my tent Twenty and one against the shining walls. I took them from slain Trojans. 'Tis my wont Never to fight at distance from the foe, And therefore have I spears, and bossy shields, And helms, and body-mail of polished brass." Then spake in turn discreet Meriones: - "Within my tent are also many spoils Won from the Trojans, and in my black ship; But they are far away. I do not think That I forget what valor is. I fight Among the foremost in the glorious strife Where'er the battle calls me. Other men Among the well-armed Greeks may not have seen What I perform, but thou must know me well." Idomeneus, the Cretan leader, spake:- "I know thy courage well. What need hast thou To speak as thou hast done? If all of us, The bravest of the Greeks, were set apart To form an ambush; - for an ambush tries And shows men's valor; there the craven, there The brave, is known; the coward's color comes And goes; his spirit is not calm within His bosom, so that he can rest awhile And tremble not; he shifts his place; he sits On both his feet; his heart beats audibly Within his breast; his teeth at thought of death Chatter; the brave man's color changes not, Nor when with other warriors he sits down In ambush is he troubled, but he longs To rise and mingle in the desperate fray; - For thee, in such an ambush, none could blame Thy courage or thy skill. If there the foe Should wound thee from afar, or smite thee near, The weapon would not strike thy neck behind, Or pierce thy back, but enter at thy breast Or stomach, as thou wert advancing fast Among the foremost. But enough of this. Come! stand we here no longer, idiot-like, Lest some one chide us sharply. Hasten thou, And bring a sturdy javelin from the tent." He spake. Meriones, like Mars in port And swiftness, hastened to the tent and brought A brazen spear, and joined Idomeneus, Eager for battle. As the god of war, The man-destroyer, comes into the field, With Terror, his strong-limbed and dauntless son, Following and striking fear into the heart Of the most resolute warrior, when from Thrace They issue armed against the Ephyri, Or else against the Phlegyans large of soul, And hearken not to both the hosts, but give To one the victory; so Meriones Advanced to battle with Idomeneus, Leaders of heroes both, and both equipped In glittering helms. And first Meriones Spake and addressed his fellow-warrior thus: "Son of Deucalion, at which point wilt thou Enter the throng? Upon the army's right, Its centre, or its left? The long-haired Greeks Seem most to need our aid upon the left." Then spoke Idomeneus, in turn, the prince Of Cretans: "At the centre of the fleet Are others who will guard it. Posted there Are either Ajax and the most expert Of Grecian archers, Teucer, not less skilled In standing fight, and amply will they task The arm of Hector, Priam's son, though bent On desperate conflict, and though passing fierce. With all his fierceness, he will find it hard To quell their prowess, never yet o'ercome, And fire the ships, unless Saturnian Jove Himself should cast on them the flaming torch. Nor yet will Telamonian Ajax yield To any man of mortal birth, or reared Upon the grains of Ceres, or whom brass Or ponderous stones can wound. He would not own The warlike son of Peleus mightier Than he in standing fight, although in speed He vies not with him. Lead us then to join The army's left, that we may learn at once Whether our fate in battle shall confer Glory on other men, or theirs on us." So spake the chief. Meriones, the peer Of Mars in swiftness, hastened till he joined The army where his comrade bade. The foe Beheld Idomeneus, who like a flame Swept on with his companion all in arms Gloriously wrought; they raised from rank to rank The battle-cry, and met him as he came, And hand to hand, before the galleys' sterns Was waged the combat. As when storms arise, Blown up by piping winds, when dust lies loose Along the roads, a spreading cloud of dust Fills the wide air, so came the battle on Between the bands that struggled eagerly To slay each other. All along the line The murderous conflict bristled with long spears That tore the flesh; the brazen splendor, shot From gleaming helmets and from burnished mail And shining bucklers, all in narrow space, Dazzled the eyes. Brave-hearted would he be, The man who, gazing on it, could have seen The furious strife rejoicing or unmoved. Meantime the potent sons of Saturn each Favored a different side, and planned new toils For all the warriors. Jupiter had willed That Hector and the Trojans should prevail, Yet had he not decreed the Achaian host To perish before Troy; he only sought To honor Thetis and her large-souled son. But Neptune, mingling with the Greeks, aroused Their martial spirit. From the hoary deep He came unmarked, for deeply was he grieved To see the Greeks give way before the host Of Troy, and he was wroth with Jupiter. Both gods were of one race, and owed their birth To the same parents; but the elder-born Was Jupiter, and wiser. For that cause Not openly did Neptune aid the Greeks, But, as by stealth, disguised in human form, Moved through their army and encouraged them To combat. Thus it was the potent twain Each drew, with equal hand, the net of strife And fearful havoc, which no power could break Or loosen, stretched o'er both the warring hosts, And laying many a warrior low in death. And now, although his brows were strewn with gray, Idomeneus, encouraging the Greeks, Rushed on the Trojans, and revived the fight. He slew Orthryoneus, who just before, Drawn by the rumor of the war, had left Cabesus, and now made a lover's suit For Priam's fairest daughter. Without dower He sought to wed Cassandra, promising A vast exploit, - to drive the Greeks from Troy, In spite of all their valor. The old king Consented that the maiden should be his; And now he fought, and trusted to fulfil His promise. But Idomeneus took aim, And cast his glittering javelin at the youth. It struck him marching proudly on, nor stopped The weapon at the brazen mail, but pierced The stomach. With a clash the warrior fell, And thus the victor boasted over him: - “Orthryoneus, I deem thee worthy of praise Beyond all other men, if thou perform What thou hast undertaken, - to defend 'Dardanian Priam, who has promised thee His daughter. We would make a compact too, And will perform it, -to bestow on thee A spouse, the fairest daughter of the house Of Atreus' son, and we will send for her To Argos, if thou join us, and lay waste The well-built Ilium. Now, then, follow me, And at the ships which brought us we will treat Of marriage, and will make no niggard terms." So spake Idomeneus, and dragged the slain Through the sharp conflict by the foot. He met Asius, who walked before his car, and came To avenge his friend. The attending charioteer Behind him reined the steeds, that they should breathe Over the shoulders of their lord, who sought To smite Idomeneus. The Greek was first To strike; he plunged the spear into his throat Below the chin, and drave the weapon through. The Trojan fell to earth as falls an oak, Poplar, or stately pine, which woodmen fell With their sharp axes on the mountain-side, To form a galley's beam. So there he lay Stretched out before his coursers and his car, And gnashed his teeth, and clenched the bloody dust. The charioteer, amazed, and losing power Of action, dared not turn the horses back To bear him from the foe. Antilochus The warlike cast his spear, and in the midst Transfixed him. Little did the brazen mail Avail to stay the blade, which cleft its way Into the stomach. With a sudden gasp He toppled from the sumptuous chariot-seat, And large-souled Nestor's son, Antilochus, Drave with the chariot to the well-armed Greeks. Deiphobus, who sorrowed for the fate Of Asius, drawing near Idomeneus, Hurled at him his bright spear. The Greek beheld, As face to face they stood, and scaped the stroke, Covered by his round shield, two-handled, strong With bullocks' hides and glittering brass. With this He hid himself, close couched within, and turned The brazen point aside. The buckler rang Shrilly; the weapon glanced away, yet flew Not vainly from the Trojan's powerful hand: It struck Hypsenor, son of Hippasus, The shepherd of the people, on the side Where lies the liver, just below the breast. His knees gave way; he fell; Deiphobus Thus shouted o'er the dead his empty boast:- "Not unavenged lies Asius, and no doubt, In journeying to the massy gates and wall Of Hades, will rejoice that I have sent A soul to be companion of his way." He spake; and at his boast the Greeks were moved With anger, - most of all Antilochus The warlike; yet he left not to the foe His slain companion, but made haste to hold His shield above him. His beloved friends, Mecisteus, son of Echius, and the prince Alastor, lifted up, with many a groan, The corpse, and bore it to the roomy ships. Meantime the valor of Idomeneus Remitted not; he vehemently longed To cover many a Trojan with the night Of death, or fall himself with clashing arms, In warring to defend the ships of Greece. The brave Alcathoüs, the beloved son Of Æsyetus, whom Anchises made His son-in-law, - for he had given to him Hippodameia, eldest-born of all His daughters, whom her parents, while she dwelt With them, loved dearly, fair and wise beyond All other maidens of her age, and skilled In household arts; so that the noblest prince Of the broad Trojan kingdom made her his; - Him, by the weapon of Idomeneus, Did Neptune bring to death. The sparkling eyes Grew dim, and stiffened were the shapely limbs, For neither could he flee nor turn aside; But as he stood before him, column-like, Or like a towering tree, Idomeneus Transfixed him in the bosom with his spear. The brazen coat of mail gave way, which oft Had saved him, breaking with a sharp, shrill sound Before the severing blade. He fell to earth With noise; the spear stood planted in his heart, And as he panted quivered through its length, Yet soon its murderous force was spent and still. And then the victor boasted thus aloud :- "Deiphobus, does this appear to thee A fair return, when three are slain for one, Or hast thou boasted idly? Yet do thou, Vain as thou art, stand forth and face me here, And I will teach thee of what race I am, — An offshoot of the stock of Jove, whose son Was Minos, guardian of our Crete, and he Was father of the good Deucalion. Deucalion's son am I, and I am king O'er many men in the broad isle of Crete. My galleys brought me thence to be the dread Of thee, thy father, and the men of Troy." He spake. Deiphobus, irresolute, Stood doubting whether to retreat and bring Some other of the heroic sons of Troy To aid him, or to try the fight alone. As thus he mused, it seemed most wise to seek Æneas. Him he found withdrawn among The rear of the army, for he was displeased With noble Priam, who had paid his worth With light esteem. Deiphobus approached, And thus with wingèd words accosted him:- "Æneas, counsellor of Troy, if thou Hadst ever a regard to him who was Thy sister's husband, it becomes thee now To avenge him. Follow me, and help avenge Alcathoüs, guardian of thy tender years, Slain by the spear of famed Idomeneus." He spake; and at his words Æneas felt His courage rise. Impatient for the fight, He went to meet Idomeneus; yet fear Fell not upon the Greek as if he were A puny boy: he stood and kept his ground. As, when a mountain boar, unterrified, Waits in the wilderness the hunter-crew, That come with mighty din, his bristly back Rises, his eyes shoot fire, he whets his tusks, And fiercely keeps both dogs and men at bay, - So did Idomeneus, expert to wield The spear, await Æneas hastening on With fury. Not a backward step he made, But called upon his warrior-friends aloud, Looking at Aphareus, Ascalaphus, Deïpyrus, Meriones, and last Antilochus, all skilled in arts of war, And thus exhorted them with winged words: - "Haste hither, O my friends, and bring me aid. I stand alone, in dread of the approach Of swift Æneas, who comes fiercely on, Powerful to slay, and in his prime of youth, The highest vigor of the human frame. Yet, were our years the same, that chief or I Would quickly triumph at the other's cost." He spake, and all with one accord drew near And stood by him, with shields obliquely held Upon their shoulders. On the other side Æneas cheered his comrades on. He fixed His look on Paris, and Deiphobus, And nobly-born Agenor, who, like him, Were leaders of the Trojans. After these The soldiers followed, as the thronging flock Follow the ram that leads them to the fount From pasture, and the shepherd's heart is pleased. So was Æneas glad at heart to see The multitude of warriors following him. Then mingled they in battle hand to hand Around Alcathoüs, with their ponderous spears, And fearfully upon their bosoms rang The brass, as through the struggling crowd they aimed Their weapons at each other. Two brave men, Æneas and Idomeneus, the peers Of Mars, conspicuous o'er their fellows, strove With cruel brass to rend each other's limbs. And first Æneas cast his spear to smite Idomeneus, who saw it as it came, And shunned it. Plunging in the earth beyond, It stood and quivered; it had left in vain The Trojan's powerful hand. Idomeneus Next smote Enomaüs: the spear brake through His hollow corslet at the waist; it pierced And drank the entrails: down amid the dust He fell, and grasped the earth with dying hand. Idomeneus plucked forth the massy spear, But, pressed by hostile weapons, ventured not To strip the sumptuous armor from the dead; Since now no more the sinews of his feet Were firm to bear him rushing to retake His spear, or start aside from hostile spears. Wherefore in standing fight he warded off The evil hour, nor trusted to his feet To bear him fleetly from the field. He moved Slowly away, and now Deiphobus, Who long had hated him and bitterly, Aimed at him his bright spear; it missed its mark, And struck Ascalaphus, the son of Mars. The weapon cleft the shoulder of the Greek, Who fell amid the dust, and clenched the earth. Not yet the clamorous Mars, of passionate mood, Had heard that in the fray his son was slain; But on the summit of the Olympian mount He sat, o'ercanopied by golden clouds, Restrained from combat by the will of Jove, With other gods, forbidden, like himself, To aid the combatants. Meantime around Ascalaphus the combat hand to hand Still raged. Deiphobus had torn away The slain man's shining helm, when suddenly Meriones sprang forward, spear in hand, And smote him on the arm; the wounded limb Let fall the helm, resounding as it fell, And with a vulture's leap Meriones Rushed toward him, plucking out from the torn flesh The spear, and falling back among the crowd. Polites, brother of the wounded, threw Both arms around his waist, and bore him off From the loud din of conflict, till he reached His swift-paced steeds, that waited in the rear Of battle, with their chariot nobly wrought And charioteer. These took him back to Troy, Heavily groaning and in pain, the blood Yet gushing from the newly wounded limb. Still fought the other warriors, and the noise Of a perpetual tumult filled the air. Æneas, rushing upon Aphareus, Caletor's son, who turned to face him, thrust A sharp spear through his throat. With drooping head, And carrying shield and helmet to the ground, He fell, and rendered up his soul in death. Antilochus, as Thoön turned away, Attacked and smote him, cutting off the vein That passes through the body to the neck. This he divided sheer; the warrior fell Backward, and lay in dust, with hands outstretched To his beloved friends. Antilochus Flew to the slain, and from his shoulders stripped The armor, casting cautious glances round; While toward him pressed the Trojans on all sides, Striking the fair broad buckler with their darts, Yet could not even score with pointed brass The tender skin of Nestor's son; for still Neptune, the shaker of the sea-coast, kept Watch o'er him while the weapons round him showered. Yet he withdrew not from his foes, but moved Among the crowd, nor idle was his spear, But wielded right and left, and still he watched With resolute mind the time to strike the foe At distance, or assault him near at hand. The son of Asius, Adamas, beheld The hero meditating thus, and struck, In close attack, the middle of his shield With a sharp brazen spear. The dark-haired god Who rules the deep denied to Adamas The life he sought, and weakened the hard stroke. Part of the Trojan's weapon, like a stake Hardened by fire, stood fixed within the shield, Part lay on earth, and he who cast it slunk Among his comrades to avoid his fate. Meriones, pursuing with his spear, Smote him between the navel and the groin, Where deadliest are the wounds in battle given To man's unhappy race. He planted there The cruel blade, and Adamas, who fell, Writhed panting round it, as a bullock bound By cowherds on the mountain with strong cords Pants as they lead him off against his will. So wounded, Adamas drew heavy breath, And yet not long. The brave Meriones, Approaching, plucked the weapon forth, and night Came o'er the eyes of Adamas. At hand Stood Helenus, and struck Deipyrus Upon the temple with his ponderous sword, Of Thracian make, and cut the three-coned helm Away, and dashed it to the ground; it rolled Between a Grecian warrior's feet, who stooped And took it up, while o'er its owner's eyes The darkness gathered. Grieved at this, the son Of Atreus, Menelaus great in war, Rushed forward, threatening royal Helenus. He brandished his sharp spear; the Trojan drew His bow; advancing, one to hurl a lance, And one to send an arrow. Priam's son Let fly a shaft at Menelaus' breast. The bitter missile from the hollow mail Glanced off. As when from the broad winnowing-fan On some wide threshing-floor the swarthy beans, Or vetches, bound before the whistling wind And winnower's force, so, bounding from the mail Of gallant Menelaus, flew afar The bitter shaft. Then Menelaus, great In battle, smote the hand of Helenus That held the polished bow; the brazen spear Passed through the hand, and reached the bow, and there Stood fixed, while Helenus, avoiding death, Drew back among his comrades, with his hand Held low, and trailing still the ashen stem. Magnanimous Agenor from the wound Drew forth the blade, and wrapped the hand in wool, Carefully twisted, taken from a sling Carried by an attendant of the chief. To meet the glorious Menelaus sprang Pisander, led by his unhappy fate To perish, Menelaus! by thy hand In that fierce conflict. When the two were near, Advancing toward each other, Atreus' son Took aim amiss; his spear flew far aside. Pisander smote the buckler on the arm Of mighty Menelaus, yet drave not The weapon through. The broad shield stopped its force, And broke it at the neck; yet hoped he still For victory, and exulted. Then the son Of Atreus drew his silver-studded sword And sprang upon his foe, who from beneath His buckler took a brazen battle-axe, With a long stem of polished olive-wood. Both struck at once. Pisander hewed away, Below the crest, the plumed helmet-cone Of Atreus' son, who smote, above the nose, Pisander's forehead, crashing through the bones. Both bleeding eyes dropped to the ground amid The dust; he fell; he writhed; the conqueror, Advancing, set his heel upon his breast, And stripped the armor off, and, boasting, said: - "Thus shall ye leave unharmed the fleet that brought The knights of Greece, ye treaty-breaking sons Of Ilium, never satisfied with war! Yet lack ye not still other guilt and shame, Wrong done to me, ye dogs! Ye have not feared The wrath of Hospitable Jove, who flings The thunder, and will yet destroy your town, With all its towers, - ye who, without a cause, Bore off my youthful bride, and heaps of wealth, When she had given you welcome as our guests. And now ye seek to burn with fire the fleet With which we cross the ocean, and to slay The Grecian heroes. Ye shall yet be forced, Eager for battle as ye are, to pause. O Father Jupiter, who hast the praise Of highest wisdom among gods and men! All this is of thy ordering. How hast thou Favored this arrogant crew of Troy, in love With violence, who never have enough Of war and all its many miseries! All other things soon satisfy desire, - Sleep, love, and song, and graceful dance, which most Delight in more than warlike toils, - yet they Of Troy are never satisfied with war." So spake the illustrious man, and, having stripped The bloody armor from the dead, he gave The spoil to his companions, and rejoined The warriors in the van. Harpalion then, A son of King Pylæmenes, with whom He left his home to join the war at Troy, Assaulted him. He never saw again His native land. Close to Atrides' shield, He struck it in the centre with his lance, Yet could not drive the weapon through the brass, And backward shrank, in fear of death, among His comrades, looking round him lest some foe Should wound him with the spear. Meriones Let fly a brazen arrow after him, Which, entering his right flank below the bone, Passed through and cleft the bladder. Down he sank Where the shaft struck him, breathing out his life In the arms of his companions. Like a worm He lay extended on the earth; his blood Gushed forth, a purple stream, and steeped the soil. The large-souled Paphlagonians came around, And placed him in a chariot, sorrowing, And bore him to the gates of sacred Troy. The father followed weeping, but no hand Was raised to avenge the slaughter of his son. Yet deeply moved was Paris at his death, For he had been Harpalion's guest among The Paphlagonians. Grieving for the slain, He sent a brazen arrow from his bow. Now there was one Euchenor, rich and brave, The son of Polyïdus, hoary seer; His dwelling was in Corinth, and he came, Forewarned and conscious of his fate, to Troy; For often Polyïdus, good old man, Warned him that he within his palace halls Should perish by a grievous malady, Or else be slain by Trojan hands beside The Grecian fleet. So, to escape at once The censure of the Achaians and disease, He came, lest he in after times might rue His choice. And now between the jaw and ear Did Paris smite him; from the warrior's limbs Life fled, and darkness gathered o'er his eyes. And then they fought; like a devouring fire That battle was; but Hector, dear to Jove, Had not yet learned that on the left the Greeks Made havoc of his men; for in that hour The Greeks had almost made the victory theirs, So greatly had the god who shakes the shores Kindled their courage, and with his own arm Brought timely aid. Still Hector, pressing on Where first he leaped within the gates and wall, Broke the close phalanxes of shielded Greeks. There, ranged beside the hoary deep, the ships Of Ajax and Protesilaus lay. The wall that guarded them was low, and there Warriors and steeds in fiercest conflict met; There the Bœotians, there in their long robes The läonians, there the Locrians, there The men of Phthia, and the Epeians famed For valor, held back Hector, struggling on To reach the ships, yet found they had no power To drive the noble warrior from the ground, For he was like a flame. The chosen men Of Athens formed the van. Menestheus, son Of Peteus, was their leader, after whom Phidas and Stichius followed, and with them The gallant Bias. Meges, Phyleus' son, With Dracius and Amphion, marshalled there The Epeians; while the Phthian band were led By Medon and Podarces, warlike chief. And Medon was the great Oïleus' son, And brother of the lesser Ajax, born Without the tie of wedlock, and he dwelt Far from his native land, in Phylacè; For by his violent hand the brother died Of Eryopis, whom Oileus made His lawful spouse. Podarces was the son Of Iphiclus, and dwelt in Phylace. These, at the head of Phthia's valiant youth, And cased in massive armor, fought beside Bœotia's warriors for the Grecian fleet. But Ajax swift of foot, Oileus' son, From him of Telamon departed not Even for an instant. As when two black steers Of equal vigor o'er a fallow draw The strongly jointed plough, till near their horns Streams the warm sweat; the polished yoke alone Holds them asunder, as they move along The furrow, and the share divides the soil That lies between them; - so the heroic twain Kept near each other. Many men and brave Followed to Troy the son of Telamon As his companions, and, when weariness Came o'er his sweaty limbs, relieved their chief Of his broad buckler. But the Locrian host Attended not Oileus' great-souled son, Nor could they ever venture to engage In combat hand to hand. No brazen helms Were theirs, with horse-hair plumes, no orbèd shields, Nor ashen spears. They came with him to Troy, Trusting in their good bows, and in their slings Of twisted wool, from which they showered afar Stones that dispersed the phalanxes of Troy. The chieftains Ajax, warring in the van, Clad in their shining armor, fought to check The Trojans and their leader, brazen-mailed, While in the rear the Locrians lurked unseen, And sent their shafts, so that the men of Troy, All order lost, were fain to cease from fight. Then had the Trojans from the ships and tents Turned back, and fled, with fearful loss of life, To lofty Ilium, if Polydamas Had not accosted valiant Hector thus:- "Hector, thou hearkenest not to warning words. Deem'st thou, because a god has given thee strength Beyond all other men for feats of war, That therefore thou art wiser than they all In council? Think not for thyself to claim All gifts at once. On one the god bestows Prowess in war, upon another grace In dance, upon another skill to touch The harp and sing. In yet another, Jove The Thunderer, implants the prudent mind, By which the many profit, and by which Communities are saved; and well doth he Who hath it know its worth. Now let me speak What seems to me the wisest. Round thee flames The encircling war; the valiant sons of Troy, Since they have crossed the ramparts, stand aloof, Armed as they are, or fight against large odds Scattered among the galleys. Yield thou now The ground, and, summoning the chiefs, decide What plan to follow, - whether we shall storm The well-oared galleys, should the God vouchsafe The victory to us, - or else depart In safety from the fleet. I greatly fear The Achaians may repay to us the debt Of yesterday. There yet is at the fleet One who, I think, no longer will refrain Wholly from battle." Thus Polydamas Spake, and the sage advice pleased Hector well, Who, leaping from his chariot to the ground, With all his weapons, said these winged words:- "Remain with all the bravest warriors here, Polydamas, while I depart to give The due commands, and instantly return." He spake, and with a shout he rushed away, Seen from afar, like a snow-mountain's peak, And flew among the Trojans and allies, Who crowded round the brave Polydamas, The son of Panthöus, at Hector's call. Among the foremost combatants he sought Deiphobus, and mighty Helenus, The king; he looked for Adamas, the son Of Asius, and for Asius of the house Of Hyrtacus. Some not unharmed he found, Yet not o'ercome; while others lay in death Beneath the galley-sterns, where Grecian hands Had slain them; others on the wall, struck down By missiles, or in combat hand to hand. There on the left of that disastrous fray He met the noble Alexander, spouse Of fair-haired Helen, as he cheered his men, And rallied them to battle. Hector thus Addressed his brother with reproachful words: - "Accursed Paris! noble but in form, Effeminate seducer! where are now Deiphobus, and mighty Helenus? And Adamas, the son of Asius, where? And Asius, son of Hyrtacus? and where Orthryoneus? Now towering Ilium sinks From her high summit, and thy fate is sure." And then the godlike Paris answered thus:- "Since it hath pleased thee, Hector, thus to cast Reproach on me, though innocent, I may Another day neglect the toils of war, Although in truth my mother brought me forth Not quite unapt for combat. Since the hour When thou didst lead the battle to the ships With thy companions, we have held our ground, Here on this spot, contending with the Greeks. Three chiefs for whom thou askest have been slain. Deiphobus and mighty Helenus, Both wounded in the hand by massive spears, Have left the field; the son of Saturn saved Their lives. Now lead us wheresoe'er thou wilt, And we will follow thee with resolute hearts, Nor deem that thou wilt find in us a lack Of valor while our strength of arm remains. The boldest cannot fight beyond his strength.” With such persuasive words the warrior calmed His brother's anger, and they went where raged The hottest conflict round Cebriones, Phalces, Orthæus, and the excellent Polydamas, with Palmys at his side, And Polyphœtes, godlike in his form, And where Ascanius and Morys fought, Sons of Hippotion. They the day before Came marching from Ascania's fertile fields, Moved by the will of Jove to share the war. All these swept on, as when a hurricane, A thunder-gust, from Father Jupiter Buffets the plain, and mingles with the deep, In mighty uproar, and the billows rise All over the resounding brine, and swell, Whitening with foam, and chase each other on. So moved the Trojans on, man after man, In close array, all armed in glittering brass, Following their generals. Hector, Priam's son, And peer of Mars in battle, led the van, His round shield held before him, tough with hides And overlaid with brass. Upon his brow The gleaming helmet nodded as he moved. On every side he tried the phalanxes, If haply they might yield to his assault, Made from beneath that buckler; but the Greeks In spirit or in order wavered not. And Ajax, striding forth, defied him thus: - "Draw nearer, friend! Think'st thou to frighten thus The Greeks? We are not quite so inexpert In war, although so cruelly chastised By Jupiter. Thou thinkest in thy heart That thou shalt make our ships thy spoil; but we Have also our strong arms to drive thee back, And far more soon the populous town of Troy, Captured and sacked, shall fall by Grecian hands. And now I warn thee that the hour is near When, fleeing, thou shalt pray to Father Jove And all the immortals, that thy long-maned steeds, Bearing thee townward 'mid a cloud of dust Along the plain, may be more swift than hawks." As thus he spake, an eagle, to the right, High in the middle heaven, flew over him, And, gladdened by the omen, all the Greeks Shouted; but then illustrious Hector spake:- "Babbler and boaster, what wild words are these? O Ajax! would that I were but as sure To be the child of ægis-bearing Jove, Brought forth by Juno the august, and held In honor everywhere like that which crowns Apollo and Minerva, as I know That to the Greeks this very day will bring Destruction, and that thou shalt also lie Slain with the others, if thou dare abide The stroke of my long spear, which yet shall tear Thy dainty flesh, and thou, with thy full limbs, Shalt be the feast of Trojan dogs and birds, Unburied by the galleys of the Greeks." So Hector spake, and led his warriors on. They followed with a mighty shout; the rear Sent up as loud a cry. On the other side Shouted the Greeks, nor intermitted now Their wonted valor, but stood firm to breast The onset of the chosen men of Troy. The mingled clamor of both hosts went up To heaven, and to the shining seat of Jove.
BOOK XIV. THE mighty uproar was not unperceived By Nestor's ear, who, sitting at the wine, Addressed the son of Esculapius thus:- "Noble Machaon, what will happen now? Bethink thee: for the clamor grows more loud From our young warriors at the ships. Stay here And drink the purple wine, while for thy limbs The fair-haired Hecamede warms the bath And washes the dark blood away, and I Will climb the watch-tower, and will know the worst.” He spake, and took a buckler, fairly wrought, Glittering with brass, and left within the tent By Thrasymedes, his own knightly son, Who to the war had borne his father's shield; He grasped a ponderous spear, with brazen blade, And stood without the tent, and saw a sight Of shame, - the routed Greeks, and close behind The haughty Trojans putting them to flight, And the Greek wall o'erthrown. As when the face Of the great deep grows dark with weltering waves, That silently forebode the swift descent Of the shrill blast, the yet uncertain seas Roll not to either side, till from the seat Of Jupiter comes down the violent wind, - So paused the aged chief, uncertain yet Of purpose, whether he should join the throng Of Greeks, with their swift coursers, or repair To sovereign Agamemnon, Atreus' son. This to his thought seemed wiser, and he went To seek Atrides. Meantime both the hosts Urged on the work of slaughter; still they fought, And still the solid brass upon their limbs Rang, smitten with the swords and two-edged spears. Then, coming from the fleet, the wounded kings, Nurslings of Jove, met Nestor; toward him came Tydides, and Ulysses, and the son Of Atreus, Agamemnon. On the beach Of the gray deep their ships were ranged afar From that fierce conflict. There the Greeks had drawn, To the plain's edge, the first that touched the land, And built a rampart at their sterns. Though long The shore-line, it sufficed not to contain The galleys, and the host had scanty room; Wherefore they drew the galleys up in rows, Row behind row, and filled the shore's wide mouth Between the promontories. There the kings Walked, leaning on their lances, to behold The tumult and the fight, and inly grieved. The sight of aged Nestor startled them, And thus the royal Agamemnon spake:- "Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks, Why hast thou left the murderous fray, and why Come hither? Much I fear the fiery chief, Hector, will make the menace good which once He uttered, speaking to the men of Troy, - Not to return to Ilium from the fleet Till he had burned our ships with fire, and slain Us also; thus he spake, and now fulfils His menace. O ye gods! the other Greeks, And not Achilles only, cherish hate Against me in their hearts, and now refuse To combat even where our galleys lie.” And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied: - "Thus is the threat accomplished, nor can Jove The Thunderer reverse the event. The wall In which we trusted as impregnable, Our fleet's defence and ours, is overthrown; But obstinately still the Greeks maintain The combat at the ships, nor couldst thou now Distinguish with thy sharpest sight where most The ranks are routed, so confusèdly They fall, and the wild uproar reaches heaven. Meantime consult we what may yet be done, If counsel aught avail; yet can I not Advise to mingle in the strife again. It is not meet that wounded men should fight.” And then the royal Agamemnon said: - "Since at our ships, beneath their very sterns, The combat rages; since the wall we built Avails not, nor the trench, at which the Greeks Labored and suffered, hoping it might be A sure defence for us and for our fleet, Certain it is that to Almighty Jove It hath seemed good that here the Greeks, afar From Argos, should be shamefully cut off; For well was I aware when he designed To aid the Greeks, and well can I perceive That he is honoring now the men of Troy Like to the blessed gods, and fettering Our valor and our hands. Hear my advice, And follow it. Let us draw down the ships Nearest the sea, and launch them on the deep, And moor them, anchored, till the lonely night Shall come, when, if the Trojans pause from war, Haply we may draw down the other barks; For he who flees from danger, even by night, Deserves no blame; and better is his fate Who flees from harm than his whom harm o'ertakes.” Then wise Ulysses, with stern look, replied:- "What words, Atrides, have escaped thy lips? Unhappy man, thou shouldst have held command O'er some effeminate army, and not ours, - Ours to whom Jupiter, from youth to age, Hath granted to accomplish difficult wars, Until we pass away. And wouldst thou then Depart from Troy, the city of broad streets, For which we have endured so much and long? Nay, be thou silent, lest the other Greeks Hear words that never should be said by one Who knows to speak with wisdom, and who bears The sceptre, and who rules so many Greeks As thou dost. I contemn with my whole soul The counsel thou hast given, commanding us, While yet the battle rages, to draw down Our good ships to the sea, that so the foe May see his wish more easily fulfilled, Even in the hour of triumph, and our fate Be certain ruin; for the Greeks no more Will combat when they draw their galleys down, But, looking backward to the shore, will leave The battle there; and thus, O king of men! Will mischief flow from what thou counsellest.” And Agamemnon, king of men, rejoined : - "Thou touchest me, Ulysses, to the heart With thy harsh censure; yet I did not give Command to drag our good ships to the sea, Against the will of the Greeks. And would there were Some other, young or old, to counsel them More prudently, for that would please me well.” Then spake the great in battle, Diomed :- "The man is here, nor have ye far to look If ye will be persuaded, and refrain To blame me angrily, because my years Are fewest 'midst you all. I too can boast Of noble birth; my father, Tydeus, lies Buried beneath a mound of earth at Thebes. To Portheus three illustrious sons were born, Who dwelt in Pleuron, and in Calydon The lofty, - Agrius, Melas, and the knight, My father's father, Œneus, eminent Among the rest for valor; he remained At home, but, wandering thence, my father went To Argos, for the will of Jove was such, - Jove and the other gods. He wedded there A daughter of Adrastus, and he dwelt Within a mansion filled with wealth; broad fields Fertile in corn were his, and many rows Of trees and vines around him; large his flocks, And great his fame as one expert to wield, Beyond all other Greeks, the spear in war. This should ye know, for this is true; nor yet Contemn my counsel given with careful thought And for your good, nor deem it comes from one Unwarlike and low-born. Now let us join The battle, wounded as we are, for much It needs our presence, keeping carefully Beyond the reach of weapons, to avoid Wound upon wound, and, cheering on the rest, Send back into the combat those who stand Apart, indulgent to their weariness.” He spake: they hearkened, and with hasty steps Went on, King Agamemnon at their head. Nor was the glorious power that shakes the earth Unmindful of his charge. He went among The warriors in the semblance of a man Stricken in years, and, seizing the right hand Of Agamemnon, spake these wingèd words: - “O son of Atreus, the revengeful heart Of Peleus' son must leap within his breast For joy, to see the slaughter and the rout Of the Achaians, since with him there dwells No touch of pity. May he perish too, Like us, and may some god o'erwhelm his name With infamy. With thee the blessed gods Are not so far incensed, and thou shalt see The Trojan chiefs and princes of their host Raising the dust-clouds on the spacious plain In fleeing from our ships and tents to Troy.” He spake, and, shouting, strode across the field. As loud a cry as from nine thousand men, Or from ten thousand hurrying to engage In battle, such the cry that ocean's king Uttered from his deep lungs. It woke anew Invincible resolve in every heart Among the Greeks to combat to the end. Now, Juno of the golden throne beheld As, standing on the Olympian height, she cast Downward her eyes to where her brother moved, Bearing his part with glory in the fray; And inly she rejoiced. She also saw Jove on the peak of Ida, down whose side Glide many brooks, and greatly was displeased. Then the majestic goddess with large eyes Mused how to occupy the mind of him Who bears the ægis. This at length seemed best: To deck herself in fair array, and haste To Ida, that the God might haply yield To amorous desire, and in that hour Her hand might pour into his lids, and o'er His watchful mind, a soft and pleasant sleep. She went to her own chamber, which her son Vulcan had framed, with massive portals made Fast to the lintels by a secret bolt, Which none but she could draw. She entered in And closed the shining doors; and first she took Ambrosial water, washing every stain From her fair limbs, and smoothed them with rich oil, Ambrosial, soft, and fragrant, which, when touched Within Jove's brazen halls, perfumed the air Of earth and heaven. When thus her shapely form Had been anointed, and her hands had combed Her tresses, she arranged the lustrous curls, Ambrosial, beautiful, that clustering hung Round her immortal brow. And next she threw Around her an ambrosial robe, the work Of Pallas, all its web embroidered o'er With forms of rare device. She fastened it Over the breast with clasps of gold, and then She passed about her waist a zone which bore Fringes an hundred-fold, and in her ears She hung her three-gemmed ear-rings, from whose gleam She won an added grace. Around her head The glorious goddess drew a flowing veil, Just from the loom, and shining like the sun; And, last, beneath her bright white feet she bound The shapely sandals. Gloriously arrayed In all her ornaments, she left her bower, And calling Venus to herself, apart From all the other gods, addressed her thus:- "Wilt thou, dear child, comply with what I ask? Or, angered that I aid the Greeks, while thou Dost favor Troy, wilt thou deny my suit?” And thus Jove's daughter, Venus, made reply: - “O Juno, whom I reverence, speak thy thought, Daughter of mighty Saturn! for my heart Commands me to obey thy wish in all That I can do, and all that can be done.” And thus imperial Juno, planning guile, Rejoined: "Give me the charm and the desire With which thou overcomest gods and men. I go to the far end of this green earth, To visit Ocean, father of the gods, And Mother Tethys, who, receiving me From Rhea, cherished me, and brought me up In their abodes, when Jove the Thunderer Cast Saturn down to lie beneath the earth And barren sea. I go to visit them, And end their hateful quarrel. For too long Have they been strangers to the marriage-bed. But if my words persuade them, and bring back Their hearts to their old love, my name will be Honored by them, and dear throughout all time.” And laughter-loving Venus answered thus : - "What thou desirest should not be denied, And shall not, for thou sleepest in the arms Of Jupiter, the mightiest of the gods.” She spake, and from her bosom drew the zone, Embroidered, many colored, and instinct With every winning charm - with love, desire, Dalliance, and gentle speech-that stealthily O'ercomes the purpose of the wisest mind, And, placing it in Juno's hands, she said: "This many-colored zone, and all that dwells Within it, take, and in thy bosom hide, And thou, I deem, wilt not return and leave Thy purpose unfulfilled.” As thus she spake, The large-eyed stately Juno smiled and took, And, smiling, in her bosom placed the zone, While Venus, daughter of the Thunderer, Went to the palace. Juno took her way From high Olympus o'er Pieria's realm And rich Emathia, o'er equestrian Thrace, With snowy peaks exceeding high; her feet Touched not the ground. From Athos suddenly She stooped upon the tossing deep, and came To Lemnos, seat of Thoas the divine, And there she met Death's brother, Sleep, and took His hand in hers, and thus accosted him :- "O Sleep, whose sway is over all the gods And all mankind, if ever thou didst heed My supplication, hearken to me now, And I shall be forever grateful. Close The glorious eyes of Jove beneath his lids Midst our embracings, and for thy reward Thou shalt possess a sumptuous throne of gold Imperishable. Vulcan, my lame son, Shall forge it for thee, and adorn its sides, And place below a footstool, upon which Thy shining feet shall rest in banqueting.” Then gentle Sleep made answer, speaking thus:- "Great Saturn's daughter, Juno the august, On any other of the deathless gods Could I bring slumber, - even on the tides Of the swift Ocean, parent of them all; Yet may I not approach Saturnian Jove If he command me not. Already once He made me quail with fright before his threats, When his magnanimous son, Alcides, sailed From Troy, which he had ravaged. Then I lulled The senses of the Ægis-bearer, Jove, Wrapping myself around him, while thy mind Was planning mischiefs for his son, and thou Didst wake the blasts of all the bitter winds To sweep the ocean, and to bear away The hero on its billows from his friends To populous Cos. When Jupiter awoke His anger rose; he seized and flung the gods Hither and thither; me he chiefly sought, And would have cast me to destruction, down From the great heavens into the deep, if Night, Whose power o'ercomes the might of gods and men, Had not preserved me, fleeing to her shade. So Jove refrained, indignant as he was, For much he feared to offend the swift-paced Night. And now thou bid'st me tempt my fate again.” Imperial, large-eyed Juno thus rejoined: - “Why rise such thoughts, O Sleep, within thy heart? Deem'st thou that Jove the Thunderer favors Troy As much as he was angered for the sake Of Hercules, his son? Do what I ask, And thou shalt have from me a wedded spouse. One of the younger Graces shall be thine, - Pasithea, whom thou hast desired so long.” She spake, and Sleep, delighted, answered thus:- "Swear now to me, O goddess, by the Styx, The inviolable river. Lay one hand Upon the food-producing earth, and place The other on the glimmering sea, that all The gods below, round Saturn, may attest Thy promise, that thou wilt bestow on me One of the younger Graces for my bride, - Pasithea, whom I have desired so long.” He spake, and white-armed Juno willingly Complied; she took the oath, and called on all The gods who dwell in Tartarus below, And bear the name of Titans. When the oath Was taken, and the accustomed rites performed, From Lemnos and from Imbrus forth they went, Shrouded in mist; and swiftly moving on Toward Ida, seamed with rivulets and nurse Of savage beasts, they came to Lectos first, And there they left the sea. Their way was now Over the land, and underneath their feet The forest summits shook. Sleep halted there Ere yet the eye of Jupiter descried His coming, and upon a lofty fir, The tallest growing on the Idæan mount, High in the air among the clouds of heaven, Springing from earth, he took his perch within The screen of branches, like the shrill-voiced bird, Called Chalcis by the immortals, and by men Cymindis, haunting the high mountain-side. And Juno hastened on to Gargarus, The peak of lofty Ida. Jupiter The Cloud-compeller, saw her, and at once Love took possession of his mighty heart, As when they first were wedded, and withdrew From their dear parents' sight. The God drew near And stood before her, and addressed her thus : - "Why art thou hastening from Olympus thus, And whither; yet without thy steeds and car?” And Juno answered with dissembled guile:- "To the far ends of the green earth I go, To visit Ocean, father of the gods, And Mother Tethys, in whose palace halls They nourished me, and brought me up. I go To end their hateful quarrels, for too long Have they been strangers to the marriage-bed, Incensed against each other. Now my steeds, Waiting to bear me over land and sea, Stand at the foot of Ida seamed with rills, And now I come to thee, lest thou perchance Be wroth if I unknown to thee repair To where old Ocean dwells amid his deeps.” The Cloud-compeller, Jupiter, rejoined: - "Hereafter, Juno, there will be a time For such a journey; meantime let us give This hour to rest and dalliance. Never yet Did love of goddess or of mortal maid Possess and overcome my heart as now; Not even when I loved Ixion's dame, Who bore Pirithoüs, prudent as a god Among the counsellors; nor when I loved Acrisius' daughter with the dainty feet, Danaë, who brought forth Perseus, eminent Above the other warrior-chiefs; nor when I carried off from Phenix the renowned His daughter, who bore Minos afterward, And Rhadamanthus. Never so I loved Semele, nor Alcmena who in Thebes Brought forth to me the great-souled Hercules, My valiant son, while Bacchus, the delight Of men, was born of Semele; nor yet So loved I Ceres, fair-haired queen, nor yet Latona, gloriously beautiful, Nor even thee, as now I love, and yield My spirit to the sweetness of desire.” Imperial Juno artfully replied:- "Importunate Saturnius, what is this That thou hast said? If on this summit height Of Ida we recline, where all around Is open to the sight, how will it be Should any of the ever-living gods Behold us sleeping, and to all the rest Declare it? I could never, rising thence, Enter again thy palace, save with shame. Yet if thou truly speakest thy desire, Thou hast a marriage-chamber of thine own, Which Vulcan, thy beloved son, for thee Framed, fitting to its posts the solid doors; And thither let us go to take our rest Within it, since thou hast declared thy will.” Then spake again the Cloud-compeller Jove:- "O Juno! fear thou not that any god Or man will look upon us. I shall throw A golden cloud around us, which the Sun Himself cannot look through, although his eye Is piercing, far beyond all other eyes.” The son of Saturn spake, and took his wife Into his arms, while underneath the pair The sacred Earth threw up her freshest herbs, - The dewy lotus, and the crocus-flower, And thick and soft the hyacinth. All these Upbore them from the ground. Upon this couch They lay, while o'er them a bright golden cloud Gathered, and shed its drops of glistening dew. So slumbered on the heights of Gargarus The All-Father, overcome by sleep and love, And held his consort in his arms. Meanwhile The gentle Sleep made haste to seek the fleet Of Greece. He bore a message to the god Neptune, who shakes the shores, and, drawing near, He thus accosted him with wingèd words: - "Now, Neptune, give the Greeks thy earnest aid, And though it be but for a little space, While Jupiter yet slumbers, let them win The glory of the day; for I have wrapt His senses in a gentle lethargy, To which he is betrayed by Juno's wiles.” He spake, and took his way, departing thence Among the tribes of men. These words inflamed The god's desire to aid the Greeks; he sprang Far on among the foremost, and exclaimed: - "O Greeks! do ye again submit to yield The victory to Hector, Priam's son, That he may seize our fleet and bear away The glory of the day? This is his hope, And this his boast, since now Achilles lies Inactive at his ships, in sullen wrath. Yet little should we need him, if the rest Stood bravely by each other. Hear me now, And do what I advise. Let all of us, The best and bravest, bearing shields, and capped With glittering helms, and wielding in our hands The longest spears, advance, and I will lead The charge; nor do I think that Hector, son Of Priam, daring as he seems, will yet Abide our onset. Whoso has the heart To make a stand with me, and yet who bears A narrow shield, let it be given to one Less warlike, and a broader shield be found.” He spake; they hearkened and obeyed. The kings Tydides, and Ulysses, and the son Of Atreus, Agamemnon, though their wounds Still galled them, marshalled and reviewed the ranks, And changed their arms; they made the braver wear The better armor, and the worse they gave To the less warlike. Now, when o'er their breasts The burnished mail was girded, they began Their march; the great earth-shaker, Neptune, led The onset, grasping in his sinewy hand A sword of fearful length and flashing blade, Like lightning. No man dared encounter it In combat; every arm was stayed by fear. Right opposite, illustrious Hector ranged His Trojans. Dark-haired Neptune and the son Of Priam now engaged in desperate strife, One on the side of Troy, and one for Greece. The sea swelled upward toward the Grecian tents And fleet, while both the armies flung themselves Against each other with a loud uproar. Not with such noise the ocean-billows lash The mainland, when the violent north wind Tumbles them shoreward; not with such a noise Roar the fierce flames within the mountain glen, When leaping upward to consume the trees; And not so loudly howls the hurricane Among the lofty branches of the oaks When in its greatest fury, as now rose The din of battle from the hosts that rushed Against each other with terrific cries. At Ajax glorious Hector cast his spear, As face to face they stood. It missed him not, But struck him where two belts upon his breast O'erlapped each other, that which held the shield And that which bore the silver-studded sword. These saved the tender muscles. Hector, vexed That thus his weapon should have flown in vain, Retreated toward his comrades, shunning death. As he drew back, the Telamonian hurled A stone, -for stones in multitude, that propped The galleys, lay around, and rolled among The feet of those who struggled. One of these He lifted, smiting Hector on the breast, Above the buckler's orb and near the neck. He sent it spinning like a top; it fell And whirled along the ground. As when beneath The stroke of Father Jupiter an oak Falls broken at the root, and from it fumes A stifling smell of sulphur, and the heart Of him who stands and sees it sinks with dread, - For fearful is the bolt of mighty Jove, - So dropped the valiant Hector to the earth Amid the dust; his hand let fall the spear; His shield and helm fell with him, and his mail Of shining brass clashed round him. Then the Greeks Rushed toward him, yelling fiercely, for they hoped To drag him thence; and many a lance they cast ; But none by javelin or by thrust could wound The shepherd of the people, for there came Around him all the bravest of his host, - Polydamas, Æneas, and the great Agenor, and Sarpedon, he who led The Lycian bands, and Glaucus the renowned; These flung themselves into the strife, while none Of all the rest refrained, but firmly held Their broad round shields before him. Then his friends Lifted him in their arms, and bore him off, Out of the conflict, to his fiery steeds That waited for him in the battle's rear, With charioteer and sumptuous car; and these Bore him to Ilium, sorely suffering. But when they now had reached the crossing-place Of Xanthus, full of eddies, pleasant stream, The progeny of ever-living Jove, They lifted out the hero from the car, And laid him on the ground, and on him poured Water, at which his breath and sight returned. He sat upon his knees, and from his throat Gave forth the purple blood, and then he fell Back to the ground, and darkness veiled his eyes, For still his senses felt the stunning blow. The Greeks saw Hector leave the field, and pressed The foe more hotly, and bethought themselves Of their old valor. Then the swift of foot, Oïlean Ajax, darted to the van, And with his fir-tree spear smote Satnius, son Of Enops, whom a Naiad eminent For beauty among all the nymphs brought forth To Enops, when on Satnio's banks he kept His flocks. Oïleus' son, expert to wield The spear, drew near, and pierced him in the flank. Prostrate he fell, and suddenly the Greeks And Trojans gathered round in desperate fray. Polydamas, the mighty spearman, son Of Panthoüs, coming to avenge him, smote On the right shoulder Prothoënor, son Of Areïlochus. The pitiless spear Passed through, and falling in the dust he grasped The earth with dying hands. Polydamas Shouted aloud, exulting over him:- “Not vainly, as I think, hath flown the spear From the strong hand of the magnanimous son Of Panthoüs. Some Achaian hath received The weapon in his side, to lean upon In going down to Pluto's dim abode.” He spake; the Achaians chafed to hear his boast, And most the warlike son of Telamon; For the slain Greek fell near him. Instantly, Just as the Trojan moved away, he hurled His shining lance. Polydamas, to escape The death-stroke, sprang aside. Archilochus, Antenor's son, received the blow: the gods Had doomed him to be slain. It pierced the spine Where the head joins the neck, and severed there The tendons on each side. His head and mouth And nostrils struck the ground before his knees. And thus to excellent Polydamas Did Ajax shout in turn: "Bethink thee now, And tell me truly, was not this a man Worthy to die for Prothoënor's sake? No man of mean repute or meanly born He seems, but either brother to the knight Antenor, or his son; for certainly His looks declare him of Antenor's race.” He spake; but well he knew the slain. Meanwhile The Trojans heard and grieved. Then Acamas, Stalking around his fallen brother, slew Promachus, the Bœotian, with his spear, While dragging off the dead man by the feet. Then o'er the fallen warrior, Acamas Boasted aloud: "O measureless in threats! Bowmen of Argos! not to us alone Shall woe and mourning come; ye also yet Will perish. See your Promachus o'erthrown, And by my spear, that so my brother's death May not be unrequited. Every man Should wish a brother left to avenge his fall.” He ended, and the Greeks were vexed to hear His boast; the brave Peneleus most of all Was angered, and he rushed on Acamas, Who waited not the onset of the king, And in his stead was Ilioneus slain, The son of Phorbas, who was rich in flocks, Whom Mercury, of all the sons of Troy, Loved most, and gave him ample wealth; his wife Brought Ilioneus forth, and only him; And him Peneleus smote beneath the brow, In the eye's socket, forcing out the ball; The spear passed through, and reappeared behind. Down sat the wounded man with arms outstretched, While, drawing his sharp sword, Peneleus smote The middle of his neck, and lopped away The helmed head, which fell upon the ground, The spear still in the eye. He lifted it As one would lift a poppy up, and thus He shouted, boasting, to the Trojan host:- "Go now, ye Trojans, and inform from me The father and the mother of the slain That they may mourn within their palace walls Illustrious Ilioneus. After this Shall the sad wife of Promachus, the son Of Alegenor, never hasten forth To meet her husband with glad looks, when we The Greeks return from Ilium with our fleet.” He spake; the Trojans all grew pale with fear, And gazed around for an escape from death. Say, Muses, ye who on the Olympian height Inhabit, who was first among the Greeks To gather bloody spoil, when now the power That shakes the shores had turned the tide of war. First, Ajax, son of Telamon, struck down Hyrtius, the leader of the Mysian band, And son of Gyrtias, while Antilochus Spoiled Mermerus and Phalces. Morys next, Slain by the weapon of Meriones, Fell with Hippotion. Teucer overthrew Prothoüs and Periphœtes. Atreus' son Smote Hyperenor, prince among his tribe, Upon the flank; the trenchant weapon drank The entrails, and the soul, driven forth, escaped Through the deep wound, and darkness veiled his eyes. But Ajax swift of foot, Oileus' son, O'erthrew the most, for none could equal him In swift pursuit when Jove ordained a flight.
BOOK XV. NOW when the Trojans in their flight had crossed Rampart and trench, and many had been slain By the pursuing Greeks, they made a halt Beside their chariots, in despair and pale With terror. Meanwhile Jupiter awoke, On Ida's height, from slumber by the side Of Juno, goddess of the golden throne. At once he rose and saw the Trojan host Routed, and, following close upon their flight, The Argive warriors putting them to rout, Aided by Neptune, sovereign of the sea, And Hector lying on the field among His fellow-warriors, breathing painfully, Vomiting blood, and senseless, for the arm That smote was not the feeblest of the Greeks. The Father of immortals and of men Beheld and pitied him, and terribly Frowned upon Juno, and bespake her thus:- "O evil-minded Juno, full of guile! Thy arts have made the noble Hector leave The combat, and have forced his troops to flee. I know not whether 't were not well that thou Shouldst taste the fruit of thy pernicious wiles, Chastised by me with stripes. Dost thou forget When thou didst swing suspended, and I tied Two anvils to thy feet, and bound a chain Of gold that none could break around thy wrists? Then didst thou hang in air amid the clouds, And all the gods of high Olympus saw With pity. They stood near, but none of them Were able to release thee. Whoso came Within my reach I seized, and hurled him o'er Heaven's threshold, and he fell upon the earth Scarce breathing. Yet the passion of my wrath, Caused by the wrongs of godlike Hercules, Was not to be so calmed; for craftily Hadst thou called up the violent northern blast, To chase him far across the barren deep, And drive him from his course to populous Cos. I rescued him at length, and brought him back To Argos famed for steeds, though after long And many hardships. I remind thee now Of this, that thou mayst see of what avail Hereafter thy dissembled love and all Thy cunning strategies will be to thee." He spake, and Juno, large-eyed and august, Shuddered, and answered Jove with winged words:- "Be witness, Earth, and the great Heavens above, And waters of the Styx that glide beneath, - That dreadful oath which most the blessed gods Revere, be witness, too, that sacred head Of thine, and our own nuptial couch, by which I would not rashly swear at any time, That not by my persuasion Neptune went - The shaker of the shores - to harass Troy And Hector, and to aid the cause of Greece. He went self-counselled; he had seen the Greeks Pressed grievously beside their fleet, and took Compassion on them. Yet would I advise That he obey thy word, and take his place Where thou, the Cloud-compeller, bid'st him go." She ended, and the Father of the gods And mortals smiled, and said, in winged words: — "Large-eyed, imperial Juno, wouldst thou sit In council with the immortals, and assist My purposes, then Neptune, though at heart He were averse, would yet conform his will To mine and thine. If thou dost truly speak, And from thy heart, go now to where the gods Assemble, summon Iris, and with her The archer-god Apollo. Give in charge To Iris that she hasten to the host Of the mailed Greeks, and bid king Neptune leave The battle for his palace. Let the god Phœbus, preparing Hector for the fight, Breathe strength into his frame, that so he lose The sense of pain which bows his spirit now, And he shall force the Greeks again to flee In craven fear. Then shall their flying host Fall back upon the galleys of the son Of Peleus, who shall send into the fight His friend Patroclus. Him the mighty spear Of Hector shall o'erthrow before the walls Of Ilium, after many a Trojan youth Shall by his hand have fallen, and with them My noble son, Sarpedon. Roused to rage, Then shall the great Achilles take the life Of Hector. Be it from this time my care That all the assaults of Trojans in the fleet Be beaten back, till by Minerva's aid The Greeks possess the lofty town of Troy. Still am I angry, nor will I allow One of the ever-living gods to aid The Greeks, until the prayer of Peleus' son Shall fully be accomplished, as my word And nod were given, when Thetis clasped my knees, Entreating me to honor, signally, Her son, Achilles, spoiler of walled towns." He spake; the white-armed goddess willingly Obeyed him, and from Ida's summit flew To high Olympus. As the thought of man Flies rapidly, when, having travelled far, He thinks, "Here would I be, I would be there," And flits from place to place, so swiftly flew Imperial Juno to the Olympian mount, And there she found the ever-living gods Assembled in the halls of Jupiter. These, as they saw her, starting from their seats, Reached forth their cups to greet her. All the rest She overlooked, and took the beaker held By blooming Themis, who in haste had run To meet her, and in winged accents said: "Why comest thou, O Juno! with the look Of one o'ercome with fear. Hath Saturn's son, Thy lord, disquieted thy soul with threats?" The white-armed goddess Juno answered her:- "Ask me not, heavenly Themis, - thou dost know The cruel, arrogant temper that is his, - But sit presiding at the common feast, In this fair palace of the gods, and thou And all in heaven shall hear what evils Jove Has threatened. All, I think, will not rejoice To hear the tidings, be they gods or men, Though some contentedly are feasting now." Thus having said, imperial Juno took Her place, and all the gods within the halls Of Jupiter were grieved. The goddess smiled, But only with the lips; her forehead wore Above the jetty brows no sign of joy, While thus she spake in anger to the rest: - "Vainly, and in our madness, do we strive With Father Jove. We come and seek by craft Or force to move his stubborn will; he sits Apart, unyielding, unregarding, proud Of the vast strength and power in which he stands Above all other of the deathless gods. Bear therefore patiently whatever ill He sends to each. Already, as I learn, Hath Mars his share of sorrow. In the war Ascalaphus hath perished, whom he loved Dearly, beyond all other men, and whom The fiery god acknowledged as his son." As thus she spake, Mars smote his sinewy thighs With his dropped hands, and sorrowfully said: - "Be not offended with me, ye who make Your dwelling on Olympus, if I go Down to the Achaian fleet, and there avenge The slaughter of my son, though I be doomed To fall before the thunderbolt of Jove, And lie in blood and dust among the dead." He spake, and summoned Fear and Flight to yoke His steeds, and put his glorious armor on. Then greater and more terrible had been The avenging wrath of Jupiter inflamed Against the gods, if Pallas in her fear For all the heavenly dwellers had not left Her throne, and, rushing through the portals, snatched The helmet from his head, and from his arm The shield, and from his brawny hand the spear, And laid the brazen weapon by, and thus Rebuked the fiery temper of the god: - "Thou madman, thou art frantic, thou art lost! Hast thou not ears to hear, nor any shame Nor reason left? Hast thou not heard the words Of white-armed Juno, who so lately left Olympian Jupiter? Wouldst thou return In pain and sorrow to the Olympian heights, Driven back ingloriously, and made the cause Of many miseries to all the gods? - For Jove would leave the Trojans and their foes, The gallant Greeks, and turn on us, and bring Ruin upon Olympus. He would seize Guilty and guiltless in his rage alike. Wherefore I counsel thee to lay aside Resentment for the slaughter of thy son, Since braver men and stronger have been slain, And will be slain hereafter. Vain it were To seek from death to save the race of man." She said, and, leading back the fiery Mars, Seated him on his throne, while Juno called Apollo forth, with Iris, messenger Of heaven, and thus in winged accents spake:- "Jove calls you both to Ida. When ye reach Its heights, and look upon his countenance, Receive his sovereign mandate and obey." So spake imperial Juno, and withdrew And took her seat again, while they in haste Flew toward the mount of Ida, seamed with rills And nurse of savage beasts. Upon the top Of Gargarus they found the Thunderer, The son of Saturn, sitting. In a cloud Of fragrant haze he sat concealed; the twain Entered and stood before the God of Storms, Who saw them not displeased, so speedily Had they obeyed his consort. First he turned To Iris, and in winged accents said:- "Haste thee, swift Iris, and report my words To royal Neptune, and report them right.. Bid him, withdrawing from the battle-field, Repair to the assembly of the gods, Or the great ocean. If he disobey, Contemning my command, then bid him think Maturely, whether, mighty though he be, He can withstand when I put forth my power Against him. Greater is my strength than his, And elder-born am I. Yet in his pride Of heart he dares to call himself my peer, Though all the others look on me with awe." Thus spake the god, and Iris, whose swift feet Are like the wind, obeyed, and downward plunged From Ida's height to sacred Troy. As when Snow-flakes or icy hail are dropped to earth From clouds before the north wind when it sweeps The sky, so darted Iris to the ground, And stood by mighty Neptune's side, and said: - "O dark-haired shaker of the shores, I bring A message from the Ægis-bearer, Jove, That thou, withdrawing from the battle-field, Repair to the assembly of the gods, Or the great ocean. If thou disobey, Contemning his command, then hear his threat: He will come hither and put forth his power Against thee, and he warns thee not to tempt The strife; for greater is his power than thine, And he is elder-born, though in thy pride Of heart thou dost declare thyself the peer Of him whom all the rest regard with awe." Illustrious Neptune answered with disdain: "In truth an arrogant speech; he seeks by force To bar me from my purpose, who can claim Rights equal to his own, though great his power. We are three brothers, - Rhea brought us forth, - The sons of Saturn, - Jupiter, and I, And Pluto, regent of the realm below. Three parts were made of all existing things, And each of us received his heritage. The lots were shaken; and to me it fell To dwell forever in the hoary deep, And Pluto took the gloomy realm of night, And, lastly, Jupiter the ample heaven And air and clouds. Yet doth the earth remain, With high Olympus, common to us all. Therefore I yield me not to do his will, Great as he is; and let him be content With his third part. He cannot frighten me With gestures of his arm. Let him insult With menaces the daughters and the sons Of his own loves, and give them law, since they Perforce must hear, and patiently submit." Then the fleet-footed Iris spake again : - “O dark-haired Neptune, shall I bear from thee This harsh, defiant answer back to Jove, Or shall it yet be changed? The prudent mind Yields to the occasion, and thou knowest well The Furies wait upon the elder-born.” Then spake in turn the god who shakes the shores: "O goddess Iris, thou hast wisely said. An excellent thing it is when messengers Know how to counsel well. But in my heart And soul a wrathful sense of injury Arises when he chides with insolent words Me, who was equal with him in my lot, And born to equal destinies. Yet now, Although offended, I give way; but this I tell thee, and 't is from my heart, - if he, In spite of me and Pallas, spoiler-queen, And Juno, Mercury, and Vulcan, spare The towers of Troy, - if he refuse to bring Ruin on her, and glory on the Greeks, Then let him know that hatred without end Or intermission is between us two." As thus he spake, the shaker of the shores Quitted the Grecian army, took his way Seaward, and plunged into the deep. The host Perceived their loss. Then Cloud-compelling Jove Turned to Apollo and addressed him thus: - "Now go at once to Hector, mailed in brass, Beloved Phœbus, for the god who shakes The earth, departing to the ocean-deeps, Avoids our wrath; else had the other gods, Even they who far beneath the earth surround Old Saturn, heard our quarrel. Well it is For both of us that he, although enraged, Braved not my arm, for otherwise the strife Had not been ended without sweat. Now take The fringed ægis in thy hands, and shake Its orb before the warrior Greeks, to fill Their hearts with fear. I give, O archer-god, Illustrious Hector to thy charge. Revive The might that dwelt within him, till the Greeks Reach, in their flight, the fleet and Hellespont; Then shall it be my care, by word and deed, To give them rest and respite from their toils." He spake: Apollo hearkened and obeyed His father, darting down from Ida's height Like the fleet falcon, chaser of the dove, And swiftest of the race of birds. He found Hector, the warlike Priam's noble son, No longer on his bed. He sat upright; The life was coming back; he knew again His friends; the heavy breathing ceased; the sweat Was stanched; the will of ægis-bearing Jove Revived the warrior's strength. The archer-god, Phœbus, approached, and, standing by him, said: "Why, Hector, son of Priam, dost thou sit Languishing thus, apart from all the host? Has aught of evil overtaken thee?" And then the crested Hector feebly said: - "Who may'st thou be, O kindest of the gods, That thus dost question me? Hast thou not heard That the great warrior Ajax, with a stone, Smote me upon the breast, and made me leave The battle-field, where I o'ertook and slew His comrades by the galleys of the Greeks? I thought to be this day among the dead In Pluto's mansion; even now it seemed That I was breathing my dear life away." Then spake again Apollo, archer-god:- "Take courage, for the son of Saturn sends From Ida's summit one who will attend And aid thee, - Phœbus of the golden sword, Long practised to defend thy Troy and thee. Rise now, encouraging thy numerous host Of charioteers to press with their swift steeds Straight toward the roomy galleys of the Greeks. I go before to smooth for them the way, And turn the Achaian bands, and make them flee." He spake, and into the great ruler's breast Breathed strength and courage. As a stabled horse, Fed at his crib with barley, breaks the thong That fastened him, and, issuing, scours the plain Where he was wont in some smooth-flowing stream To bathe his sides, - he holds his head aloft Proudly, and o'er his shoulders streams the mane, - Consciously beautiful, he darts away On nimble knees, that bear him to the fields He knows so well, and pastures of the mares; - So after he had hearkened to the god Moved the swift feet of Hector, and he flew To cheer his horsemen on. As peasant men Rush with their dogs in chase of hornèd stag Or mountain goat, whose refuge is among Thickets and lofty rocks, nor can they take Their prey, for at their clamor there appears A manèd lion in the way, and turns The chasers back, although in hot pursuit, - Thus did the Greeks embattled close pursue The men of Ilium, striking with their swords And two-edged spears; but when at length they saw Hector among the ranks of armèd men, Their hearts were troubled, and their courage sank. Thoas, Andræmon's son, the bravest far Among the Ætolians, skilled to cast the spear And combat hand to hand, addressed the Greeks. In council few excelled him, when the youths Assembled for debate. With prudent speech Thoas bespake his fellow-warriors thus : - "Gods! what a marvel do mine eyes behold; Hector has risen from death! We fully thought, Each one of us, that, smitten by the hand Of Telamonian Ajax, he had died. Some god hath rescued and restored to strength This Hector who hath slain, and yet will slay, I fear, so many Greeks. He comes not thus Leading the charge without the aid of Jove, The God of Thunders. Now let all of us Follow this counsel: bid the multitude Retreat upon the ships, and let the rest, Who boast ourselves the bravest of the host, Stand firm and breast his onset, and so break Its fury with our lifted spears. I think, With all his rage, he will be slow to fling Himself into a band of armed Greeks." He spake; they hearkened and at once complied; The Ajaxes, the Prince Idomeneus, Teucer, Meriones, and Meges, peer Of Mars, assembled all the chiefs, and ranked Their files to encounter Hector and his band Of Trojans, while the multitude fell back To the Greek galleys. Then, in close array, The Trojan host moved forward. Hector led The van in rapid march. Before him walked Phœbus, the terrible ægis in his hands Dazzlingly bright within its shaggy fringe, By Vulcan forged, the great artificer, And given to Jupiter, with which to rout Armies of men. With this in hand he led The assailants on. The Achaians kept their ground In serried ranks, and a sharp yell arose From Greeks and Trojans. Arrows from the string Flew through the air, and spears from valiant hands. Some pierced the breasts of warrior-youths, but more Fell half-way ere they reached their aim, and plunged Into the ground, still hungering for their prey. As long as Phœbus held the ægis still, The weapons reached and wounded equally Both armies, and in both the people fell; But ever when the god looked face to face On the Greek knights, and shook the orb, and gave A mighty shout, he made their hearts to sink Within their bosoms, and their courage fled. As when two beasts of prey at dead of night Suddenly, while their keeper is away, Scatter a herd of beeves or flock of sheep, So the disheartened Greeks were put to rout, For Phœbus sent among them fear, and gave Victory to Hector and the men of Troy. Then, as the lines were broken, man slew man. First Stichius fell by Hector's hand, and next Arcesilaus; one was chief among The mailed Bœotians, one the trusty friend Of brave Menestheus. Medon fell before Æneas, and with him Iasus died. Medon was great Oïleus' base-born son, And Ajax was his brother, and he dwelt In Phylacè, an exile, for his hand Had slain the brother of his father's wife, The step-dame Eriopis, late espoused. Iasus was appointed to command The warriors sent from Athens, and he claimed His birth from Sphelus, son of Bucolus. Mecistes fell before Polydamas. Polites struck down Echius in the van, And Clonius died by great Agenor's hand; And Paris, when Deïochus had turned To flee, among the foremost combatants, Smote him upon the shoulder from behind, And drave the brazen weapon through his heart. Then, while the Trojans stripped the dead, the Greeks Fled every way, and, falling as they ran Into the trench and on the stakes, were driven, Back o'er the rampart. Hector lifted up His mighty voice, and bade the Trojans leave The bloody spoil and hasten to the ships. "And whomsoever I shall find apart In any place, at distance from the ships, There will I slay him. None of all his kin, Women or men, shall build his funeral pile, But dogs shall tear his limbs in sight of Troy." He spake; and on the shoulders of his steeds He laid the lash, and urged them toward the foe, And cheered the Trojans on. They joined their shouts To his, and charged with all their steeds and cars; And fearful was the din. Apollo marched Before them, treading down with mighty feet The banks of the deep ditch, and casting them Back to the middle, till a causey rose, Broad, and of length like that to which a spear Reaches when thrown by one who tries his strength. O'er this the Trojans poured into the camp By squadrons, with Apollo still in front, Holding the marvellous ægis. He with ease O'erthrew the rampart. As a boy at play Among the sea-shore sands in childish sport Scatters with feet and hands the little mounds He reared, thus didst thou cause the mighty work, O archer Phœbus, which the Greeks had reared With so much toil, to crumble. Thou didst fill Their hearts with eager thoughts of flight, till, hemmed Between the assailants and their ships, they stopped And bade each other stand, and raised their hands To all the gods, and offered vows aloud. Gerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, With arms extended toward the starry skies, Prayed earnestly: "O Father Jove, if e'er In fruitful Argos there were burned to thee The thighs of fattened oxen or of sheep, By one who asked a safe return to Greece, And thou didst promise it, remember him, God of Olympus, and avert from us The day of evil. Suffer not the Greeks To perish, slaughtered by the sons of Troy." So spake he supplicating. Jupiter The All-disposer thundered as he heard The old man's prayer. The Trojans by that voice Of ægis-bearing Jove were moved to press The Greeks more resolutely, and were filled With fiercer valor. As a mighty wave On the great ocean, driven before a gale Such as rolls up the hugest billow, sweeps O'er the ship's side, so swept the Trojan host With dreadful tumult o'er the wall. They drave Their steeds into the camp, and there they fought Beside the galley-sterns, and hand to hand, With two-edged spears, they from their cars, the Greeks From their black ships on high with long-stemmed poles Which lay upon the decks, prepared for fight At sea, and strongly joined to blades of brass. Patroclus, while the Greeks and Trojans fought Around the wall, at distance from the fleet Sat with the brave Eurypylus in his tent, Amusing him with pleasant talk, and dressed His wound with balms that calmed the bitter pain. But when he saw the Trojans bursting in Over the wall, and heard the din, and saw The Achaians put to rout, he gave a cry Of sudden grief, and with his open hands Smote both his thighs, and sorrowfully said: - "Eurypylus, I cannot stay with thee, Much as thou needest me, for desperate grows The struggle. Now let thine attendant take The charge of thee. I hasten to persuade Achilles to the field. Who knows but I, With Jove's good help, may change his purpose yet? For potent are the counsels of a friend." The hero spake, and instantly his feet Bore him away. Meanwhile the Achaian host Firmly withstood the onset of their foes. And yet, though greater was their multitude, They could not drive the Trojans from the fleet, Nor could the Trojans break, with all their power, The serried lines, and reach the tents and ships. As when a plumb-line, in the skilful hands Of shipwright well instructed in his art By Pallas, squares the beam that builds a bark, So even was the fortune of the fray. While some beside one galley waged the war, And others round another, Hector came To encounter Ajax the renowned, and both Fought for one ship. The Trojan could not drive The Greek away, and burn his ship with fire, Nor the Greek drive the Trojan, for a god Had brought him thither. Then did Ajax smite Caletor, son of Clytius, with his spear Upon the breast, as he was bringing fire To burn the ship; he dropped the torch, and fell, With clashing armor. Hector, as he saw His kinsman lying slain amid the dust By the black galley, raised his voice, and thus Called to the Lycians and the men of Troy:- "Hear, men of Troy and Lycia, and ye sons Of Dardanus, who combat hand to hand, Stand firm, and never yield this narrow ground. Rescue the son of Clytius, who has fallen Before the ships, nor let the Achaians make His arms their spoil." The hero spake, and aimed His shining spear at Ajax, whom it missed, But smote Lycophron, Mastor's son, who served Ajax, and dwelt with him, for he had left His native land, Cythera, having slain One of the gallant Cytherean race. Him Hector smote upon the head beneath The ear with his keen weapon, as he stood Near Ajax; from the galley's stern he fell Headlong upon the ground, with lifeless limbs. Then to his brother Teucer Ajax spake:- “Dear Teucer, see, our faithful friend is gone, The son of Mastor, from Cythera's isle, Whom we had learned to honor equally With our own parents in our palaces. He falls before the great-souled Hector's hand. Where, then, are now thy shafts that carry death, And where the bow that Phœbus gave to thee?" He spake, and Teucer, hearkening, came in haste, With his bent bow, and quiver full of shafts, And, standing near him, sent his arrows forth Among the Trojan warriors. There he smote Clitus, Pisenor's eminent son, the friend Of the renowned Polydamas, who claimed His birth from Panthoüs. Clitus held the reins, Guiding the coursers of Polydamas Where most the crowded Grecian phalanxes Wavered and broke, that so he might support Hector and his companions. Soon he met, Brave as he was, disaster which no hand Had power to avert: the bitter arrow struck His neck behind, and from the chariot-seat He fell to earth; the startled steeds sprang back; The empty chariot rattled. This the king Polydamas perceived, and came to meet His steeds, and gave them to Astinoüs, The son of Protiäon, charging him To keep them ever near, and in his sight, While he, returning, mingled with the throng That struggled in the van. Then Teucer aimed Another shaft at Hector mailed in brass, Which, had it reached him fighting gallantly, Had made him leave the battle, for his life Had ended there. The act was not unseen By All-disposing Jupiter, whose power Protected Hector, and denied the Greek The glory hoped for; for he snapped in twain The firmly twisted cord as Teucer drew That perfect bow; the brazen arrow flew Aside; the warrior's hands let fall the bow, And, shuddering, he bespake his brother thus:- "Now woe is me! some deity, no doubt, Brings all our plans to nought. 'Tis he whose touch Strikes from my hand the bow, and snaps in twain The cord just twisted, which I bound myself This morning to the bow, that it might bear The frequent arrow bounding toward the foe." He spake, and thus replied the man of might, The Telamonian Ajax: "Lay aside Thy bow, my brother, and thy store of shafts, Since, in displeasure with the Greeks, a god Has made them useless. Haste to arm thy hand With a long spear, and on thy shoulders lay A buckler, and with these attack the foe, And bid thy fellows stand. Let Trojans see That, even though the day thus far be theirs, They cannot lay their hands on our good ships Without a mighty struggle. Let us all Be mindful of our fame for gallant deeds." He spake, and Teucer went to place the bow Within the tents, and on his shoulders hung A fourfold shield, and placed on his grand brows A stately helmet with a horse-hair crest That nodded fearfully. He took in hand A ponderous spear with brazen blade, and sprang Forward with hasty steps, and stood beside His brother Ajax. Hector, when he saw That Teucer's shafts had failed him, called aloud Upon the men of Lycia and of Troy: - "Ye men of Troy and Lycia, and ye sons Of Dardanus who combat hand to hand, Acquit yourselves like men, my friends, and prove Your fiery valor by these roomy ships; For I have seen with mine own eyes the shafts Of their chief warrior rendered impotent By Jupiter. His hand is plainly seen Among the sons of men; to some he gives Glory above the rest; from some he takes The glory, and withdraws from their defence. He withers now the courage of the Greeks, And succors us. Press closely round the fleet, And combat. Whosoe'er among you all, Wounded or beaten down, shall meet his death, So let him die; 'tis no inglorious fate To perish fighting in his country's cause; And he shall leave his wife and children safe, His home and household store inviolate, If now the Greeks depart to their own land." With words like these he filled their hearts anew With strength and courage. On the other side Ajax exhorted thus his warrior friends: "Shame on you, Greeks! We perish here, unless We rescue with strong arms our host and fleet. Think ye that, should the crested Hector seize Our galleys, ye may reach your homes on foot? Hear ye not Hector's voice, who, fiercely bent To burn our ships with fire, is cheering on His warriors? To no dance he summons them, But to the battle. Nought is left for us, And other counsel there is none, save this: Close with the foe; let every hand put forth Its strength; far better 't were to die at once, Or make at once our safety sure, than thus To waste away, in lingering fight, beside Our ships, destroyed by weaker arms than ours." So spake the chief, and all who heard received Courage and strength. Then Hector put to death Schedius, the son of Perimedes, prince Of the Phocæans. Ajax also slew Laodamas, Antenor's honored son, A chief of infantry. Polydamas Struck down Cyllenian Otus, who had come, The comrade of Phylides, at the head Of the high-souled Epeians. Meges saw, And rushed upon Polydamas, who sprang Aside unharmed, for Phœbus suffered not The son of Panthoüs thus to be o'erthrown, Fighting among the foremost. But the spear Of Meges wounded Cræsmus in the breast; He fell with clanging arms. The slayer stripped The corpse; but Dolops, son of Lampus, skilled To wield the spear, leaped on him in the act. Lampus, the father, best of men, was son Of king Laomedon, and eminent For warlike prowess. Dolops struck the shield Of Meges in the midst; the corselet stayed The blade with its close-jointed plates, and saved The warrior's life. That corselet Phyleus brought From Ephyre, beside the Selleïs, Given by his host, Euphetes, king of men, For his defence in battle, and it now Preserved his son from death. Then Meges smote With his sharp spear the helm that Dolops wore, And from its summit struck the horse-hair crest, New-tinged with purple, and the cone entire Fell midst the dust. While Meges, standing firm, Fought thus, and hoped the victory, to his aid Came warlike Menelaus, unobserved, And, standing near, smote Dolops from behind, Beneath the shoulder, and drave through the spear Till it appeared beyond. The Trojan fell Upon his face, and both the Greeks rushed on To wrench the brazen armor from his limbs, When Hector saw his fall and called aloud Upon the kindred of the slain. He first Rebuked the valiant Melanippus, son Of Hicetaon, who but lately fed His slow-paced beeves at Percote, while yet The enemy was far from Troy; but when The Achaians landed from their well-oared barks, He came to Troy, and took an eminent place Among the Trojans. Near to Priam's halls He had his dwelling, honored equally With Priam's sons. Him Hector thus rebuked:- "Why, Melanippus, are we loitering thus? Grievest thou not to see thy kinsman slain? And see'st thou not how eagerly the Greeks Are spoiling Dolops of his arms? Come on With me. No time is this for distant fight, But either we must rout the Greeks, or they Will level to the ground the lofty towers Of Ilium, and will slay its citizens." He spake, and led the way; his godlike friend Followed him, while the son of Telamon, Ajax, exhorted thus the sons of Greece: - "Be men, my friends, and let a noble dread Of shame possess your hearts, and jealously Look to each other's honor in the heat Of battle; for to men who flee there comes No glory, and that way no safety lies." He spake, and all were eager to drive back The assaulting foe; they heeded well his words, And drew around their barks a fence of mail, While Jove urged on the Trojans. Then it was That Menelaus, brave in battle, spake To rouse the courage of Antilochus:- "Antilochus, there is no other Greek Younger than thou, or fleeter; none so strong For combat. Would that, springing on the foe, Thou mightest strike some Trojan warrior down." So speaking, he drew back; but he had roused The courage of his friend, who, springing forth From midst the foremost combatants, took aim, First looking keenly round, with his bright spear, From which the Trojans shrank as they beheld The hero cast it. Not in vain he threw The weapon, for it struck upon the breast Brave Melanippus, Hicetaon's son; Beneath the pap it smote him as he came. He fell with ringing arms; Antilochus Sprang toward him like a hound that springs to seize A wounded fawn, which, leaping from its lair, Is stretched disabled by the hunter's dart. So sprang the stout Antilochus on thee, O Melanippus!-sprang to spoil thy limbs Of armor; but the noble Hector saw, And, hastening through the thick of battle, came Against him. Mighty as he was in war, Yet ventured not Antilochus to wait His coming; but as flees a savage beast, Conscious of guilty deed, when, having slain Herdsman or hound, that kept the pastured kine, He steals away before a crowd of men, So fled the son of Nestor. On his rear The Trojans under Hector poured a storm Of weapons, and the din was terrible. Yet when he reached the serried ranks of Greece He turned and stood. Meanwhile the Trojan host, Like ravening lions, fiercely rushed against The galleys, that the will of Jupiter Might be fulfilled; for now he nerved their limbs With vigor ever new, while he denied Stout hearts and victory to the Greeks, and cheered Their foes with hope. His purpose was to give The victory to Hector, Priam's son, Till he should cast upon the beaked ships The fierce, devouring fire, and bring to pass The end for which the cruel Thetis prayed. Therefore did Jove the All-disposer wait Till from a burning galley he should see The flames arise. Then must the Trojan host, - Such was his will, - retreating from the fleet, Yield to the Greeks the glory of the day. For this he moved the already eager heart Of Hector, son of Priam, to attack The roomy ships. The hero was aroused To fury fierce as Mars when brandishing His spear, or as a desolating flame That rages on a mountain-side among The thickets of a close-grown wood. His lips Were white with foam; his eyes from underneath His frowning brows streamed fire; and as he fought, Upon the hero's temples fearfully The helmet nodded. Jupiter himself Sent aid from his high seat, and heaped on him Honor and fame beyond the other chiefs, — And they were many, - for his term of life Was to be short. Minerva even now Was planning to bring on its closing day, Made fatal by the might of Peleus' son. And now he strove to break the Grecian ranks, Assaulting where he saw the thickest crowd And the best weapons; yet in vain he strove With all his valor. Through the serried lines He could not break; the Greeks in solid squares Resisted, like a rock that huge and high By the gray deep abides the buffetings Of the shrill winds and swollen waves that beat Against it. Firmly thus the Greeks withstood The Trojan host, and fled not. In a blaze Of armor, Hector, rushing toward their ranks, Fell on them like a mighty billow raised By the strong cloud-born winds, that flings itself On a swift ship, and whelms it in its spray, While fearfully among the cordage howls The blast; the sailors tremble and are faint With fear, as men who deem their death-hour nigh. So the Greek warriors were dismayed at heart. As when a hungry lion suddenly Springs on a herd of kine that crop the grass By hundreds in the broad moist meadow-grounds, Beneath the eye of one who never learned To guard his horned charge from beasts of prey, But ever walks before them or behind, While the grim spoiler bounds into the midst And makes a prey of one, and all the rest Are scattered in affright, so all the Greeks Were scattered by the will of heaven before Hector and Father Jove. Yet only one, Young Periphœtes of Mycenæ, fell, The son of Copreus. Once his father went An envoy from Eurystheus to the court Of mighty Hercules. The son excelled The father in all gifts of form and mind, In speed, in war, in council eminent Among the noblest of his land. His death Brought Hector new renown; for as he turned, Stepping by chance upon his buckler's rim, That reached the ground, the buckler which had been His fence against the enemy's darts, he fell Backward, his helmet clashing fearfully Around his temples. Hector saw, and came In haste, and pierced his bosom with his spear, Among his fellow-warriors, who with grief Beheld, yet dared not aid him, such their awe Of noble Hector. Now the Greeks retired Among that row of galleys which were first Drawn up the beach; the foe poured after them, In hot pursuit; again the Greeks fell back, Constrained, and left that foremost row behind, And stood beside their tents in close array, And not dispersed throughout the camp, for shame And fear restrained them, and unceasingly With shouts they bade each other bravely stand. Chiefly Gerenian Nestor, wise to guide The counsels of the Greeks, adjured them all, And in their parents' name, to keep their ground. "O friends, be men; so act that none may feel Ashamed to meet the eyes of other men. Think each one of his children and his wife, His home, his parents, living yet or dead. For them, the absent ones, I supplicate, And bid you rally here, and scorn to fly." He spake, and his brave words to every heart Carried new strength and courage. Pallas then Lifted the heaven-sent cloud that veiled the fight, And all things in the clear full light were seen On either side, both where the galleys lay And where the warriors struggled. They beheld Hector the great in war, and all his host, Both those who formed the rear and wielded not Their arms, and those who combated in front Beside the ships. And now it pleased no more The soul of valiant Ajax to remain In the thick squadrons with the other Greeks, But, striding on the galley-decks, he bore A sea-pike two and twenty cubits long, Huge, and beset with iron nails. As when One who is skilled to vault on running steeds Chooses four horses from a numerous herd, And on the highway to a populous town Drives them, while men and women in a crowd Behold his feats with wonder, as he leaps Boldly, without a fall, from steed to steed, And back again, and all the while they run, So on the lofty decks of those good ships From ship to ship flew Ajax, lifting up His mighty voice, - a shout that reached to heaven, - And bade the Greeks defend their fleet and tents Nor loitered Hector in those armed throngs Of Troy, but as a tawny eagle swoops Upon a flock of birds that seek their food Along a river's border, - geese or cranes, Or long-necked swans, - so Hector in hot haste Sprang toward a galley with an azure prow, While mightily the power of Jove impelled The hero onward, and inflamed his train With courage. Fiercely then around the ships The struggle was renewed. Thou wouldst have said No toils of war could tire those resolute arms, So stubbornly they fought. In every mind The thought was this: the Greeks were in despair Of rescue, and believed their hour had come To perish; every Trojan hoped to give The fleet to flames, and slay the sons of Greece. With thoughts like these the hostile warriors closed. Then Hector laid his hand upon the stern Of a stanch galley, beautiful and swift, In which Protesilaüs came to Troy, — It never bore him back. Around its keel The Trojans and the Greeks fought hand to hand, And slew each other. For no more they sent The arrow or the javelin from afar, Waiting to see the wound it gave, but each With equal fury pressed upon his foe With halberd and with trenchant battle-axe, Huge sword and two-edged spear. Upon the ground Had fallen many a fair black-hilted sword With solid handles, some from slain men's hands, Some from lopped arms of warriors; the dark earth Ran red with blood. But Hector, having laid His hand upon the galley's stern, held fast To the carved point, and called upon his men:- "Bring fire, and press in throngs upon the foe; For now doth Jove vouchsafe to us a day Worth all the past, a day on which we make The ships our prey. Against the will of Heaven They landed on our coast, and brought on us Disasters many, through the coward fears Of our own elders, who denied my wish To combat at the galleys, and held back The people. But if then the Thunderer Darkened our minds, his spirit moves us now In what we do, and we obey his will." He spake; and they with fiercer valor fell Upon the Greeks. Even Ajax could no more Withstand the charge, but, fearing to be slain, Amid a storm of darts withdrew a space, To where the seven-foot bench of rowers lay, And left the galley's stern. There, as he stood, He watched the assailants keenly, and beat back With thrusts of his long spear whoever brought The firebrand. With terrific shouts he called Upon the Greeks to combat manfully : - "O friends, Achaian heroes, ministers Of Mars, be men, be mindful of your fame For valor. Do ye dream that in your rear Are succors waiting us, or firmer walls That may protect us yet? Nay, no fenced town Have we for refuge, flanked with towers from which Fresh troops may take our place. Between the sea And country of the well-armed Trojans lie Our tents; our native land is far away; And now our only hope of safety left Is in our weapons: there is no retreat." He spake, and mightily with his sharp spear Thrust at whoever of the men of Troy At Hector's bidding came with fire to burn The galleys. On the blade of that long spear The hero took them as they came, and slew In close encounter twelve before the fleet.
BOOK XVI. SUCH was the struggle for that gallant bark. Meanwhile Patroclus stood beside his friend, The shepherd of the people, Peleus' son, And shed hot tears, as when a fountain sheds Dark waters streaming down a precipice. The great Achilles, swift of foot, beheld And pitied him, and spake these wingèd words: "Why weepest thou, Patroclus, like a girl, — A little girl that by her mother's side Runs, importuning to be taken up, And plucks her by the robe, and stops her way, And looks at her, and cries, until at last She rests within her arms? Thou art like her, Patroclus, with thy tears. Dost thou then bring Sad tidings to the Myrmidons or me? Or hast thou news from Phthia? It is said That still Menœtius, son of Actor, lives, And Peleus also, son of Eacus, Among the Myrmidons. Full bitterly Should we lament to hear that either died. Or mournest thou because the Achaians fall Through their own folly by the roomy ships? Speak, and hide nothing, for I too would know." And thou, O knight Patroclus, with a sigh Deep-drawn, didst answer thus: "Be not displeased, Achilles, son of Peleus, bravest far Of all the Achaian army! for the Greeks Endure a bitter lot. The chiefs who late Were deemed their mightiest are within the ships, Wounded or stricken down. There Diomed, The gallant son of Tydeus, lies, and there Ulysses, the great spearman, wounded both; And Agamemnon; and Eurypylus, Driven from the field, an arrow in his thigh. Round them the healers, skilled in remedies, Attend and dress their painful wounds, while thou, Achilles, sittest here implacable. O, never be such fierce resentments mine As thou dost cherish, who art only brave For mischief! Whom wilt thou hereafter aid, If now thou rescue not the perishing Greeks? O merciless! it cannot surely be That Peleus was thy father, or the queen Thetis thy mother; the green sea instead And rugged precipices brought thee forth, For savage is thy heart. But if thou heed The warning of some god, if thou hast heard Aught which thy goddess-mother has received From Jove, send me at least into the war, And let me lead thy Myrmidons, that thus The Greeks may have some gleam of hope. And give The armor from thy shoulders. I will wear Thy mail, and then the Trojans, at the sight, May think I am Achilles, and may pause From fighting, and the warlike sons of Greece, Tired as they are, may breathe once more, and gain A respite from the conflict. Our fresh troops May easily drive back upon their town The weary Trojans from our tents and fleet." So spake he, sighing; rash and blind, he asked Death for himself and evil destiny. Achilles the swift-footed also drew A heavy sigh, and thus in turn he spake:- "What, O divine Patroclus, hast thou said? I fear no omen yet revealed to me; Nor has my goddess-mother told me aught From Jove; but ever in my heart and soul Rankles the painful sense of injury done By one who, having greater power, deprives An equal of his right, and takes away The prize he won. This is my wrong, and this The cause of all my bitterness of heart. Her whom the sons of Greece bestowed on me As my reward, a trophy of my spear, After the sack of a fenced city, -her Did Agamemnon, son of Atreus, take Out of my hands, as if I were a wretch, A worthless outcast. But let that affront Be with the things that were. It is not well To bear a grudge forever. I have said My anger should not cease to burn until The clamor of the battle and the assault Should reach the fleet. But go thou and put on My well-known armor; lead into the field My Myrmidons, men that rejoice in war, Since like a lowering cloud the men of Troy Surround the fleet, and the Achaians stand In narrow space close pressed beside the sea, And all the city of Ilium flings itself Against them, confident of victory, Now that the glitter of my helm no more Flashes upon their eyes. Yet very soon Their flying host would fill the trenches here With corpses, had but Agamemnon dealt Gently with me; and now their squadrons close Around our army. Now no more the spear Is wielded by Tydides Diomed In rescue of the Greeks; no more the shout Of Agamemnon's hated throat is heard; But the man-queller Hector, lifting up His voice, exhorts the Trojans, who, in throngs, Raising the war-cry, fill the plain, and drive The Greeks before them. Gallantly lead on The charge, Patroclus; rescue our good ships; Let not the enemy give them to the flames, And cut us off from our desired return. Follow my counsel; bear my words in mind; So shalt thou win for me among the Greeks Great honor and renown, and they shall bring The beautiful maiden back with princely gifts. When thou hast driven the assailants from the fleet, Return thou hither. If the Thunderer, Husband of Juno, suffer thee to gain That victory, seek no further to prolong The combat with the warlike sons of Troy, Apart from me, lest I be brought to shame, Nor, glorying in the battle and pursuit, Slaying the Trojans as thou goest, lead Thy men to Troy, lest from the Olympian mount One of the ever-living gods descend Against thee: Phœbus loves the Trojans well. But come as soon as thou shalt see the ships In safety; leave the foes upon the plain Contending with each other. Would to Jove The All-Father, and to Pallas, and the god Who bears the bow, Apollo, that of all The Trojans, many as they are, and all The Greeks, not one might be reprieved from death, While thou and I alone were left alive To overthrow the sacred walls of Troy." So talked they with each other. Ajax, whelmed Beneath a storm of darts, meantime but ill Endured the struggle, for the will of Jove And the fierce foe prevailed. His shining helm Rang fearfully, as on his temples fell, Stroke following after stroke, the weapons hurled Against its polished studs. The buckler borne Firmly on his left arm, and shifted oft From side to side, had wearied it, and yet The Trojans, pressing round him, could not drive, With all their darts, the hero from his place. Heavily heaved his panting chest; his limbs Streamed with warm sweat; there was no breathing-time; On danger danger followed, toil on toil. Now, Muses, dwellers of Olympus, tell How first the galleys of the Greeks were fired. Hector drew near, and smote with his huge sword The ashen spear of Ajax just below The socket of the blade, and cut the stem In two. The son of Telamon in vain Brandished the severed weapon, while afar The brazen blade flew off, and ringing fell To earth. Then Ajax in his mighty mind Acknowledged that the gods were in the war, And shuddered, knowing that the Thunderer Was thwarting all his warlike purposes, And willed the victory to Troy. The chief Withdrew beyond the reach of spears, while fast The eager enemy hurled the blazing brands At the swift ship, and wrapped the stern in flames Unquenchable. Achilles saw, and smote His thigh, and spake: "Patroclus, noble friend And knight, make haste: already I behold The flames that rage with fury at the fleet. Now, lest the enemy seize our ships and we Be barred of our return, put quickly on Thy armor; be my task to call the troops." He spake: Patroclus then in glittering brass Arrayed himself; and first around his thighs He put the beautiful greaves, and fastened them With silver clasps; around his chest he bound The breastplate of the swift Eacides, With star-like points, and richly chased; he hung The sword with silver studs and blade of brass Upon his shoulders, and with it the shield Solid and vast; upon his gallant head He placed the glorious helm with horsehair plume, That grandly waved on high. Two massive spears He took, that fitted well his grasp, but left The spear which great Achilles only bore, Heavy and huge and strong, and which no arm Among the Greeks save his could poise; his strength Alone sufficed to wield it. 'Twas an ash Which Chiron felled in Pelion's top, and gave To Peleus, that it yet might be the death Of heroes. Then he called, to yoke with speed The steeds, Automedon, whom he esteemed Next to Achilles, that great scatterer Of armies; for he found him ever firm In battle, breasting faithfully its shock. Automedon led forth to take the yoke Xanthus and Balius, coursers that in speed Were like the wind. Podarge brought them forth To Zephyrus, while she, the Harpy, grazed By ocean's streams. Upon the outer side He joined to them the noble Pedasus, Brought by Achilles from the captured town Where ruled Eëtion. Though of mortal stock, Well might he match with those immortal steeds. Meanwhile Achilles armed the Myrmidons, Passing from tent to tent. Like ravening wolves, Terribly strong, that, having slain among The hills an antlered stag of mighty size, Tear and devour it, while their jaws are stained With its red blood, then gather in a herd About some darkly flowing stream, and lap The sullen water with their slender tongues, And drop the clots of blood from their grim mouths, And, although gorged, are fierce and fearless still, - So came the leaders of the Myrmidons, In rushing crowds, about the valiant friend Of swift Eacides. Among them stood Achilles, great in war, encouraging The charioteers and warriors armed with shields. Achilles, dear to Jupiter, had led Fifty swift barks to Ilium, and in each Were fifty men, companions at the oar. O'er these he gave command to five; himself, Supreme in power, was ruler over all. One band, the nobly armed Menestheus led, Son of Spercheius. To that river-god, Beautiful Polydora brought him forth, Daughter of Peleus; she, a mortal maid, Met an immortal's love. Yet Borus, son Of Periëres, owned the boy and took The mother for his bride, with princely dower. Eudorus led the second band, a youth Of warlike mould, whom Polymela bore, Daughter of Phylas, graceful in the dance. In secrecy she brought him forth, for once The mighty Argus-queller saw the maid Among the choir of those who danced and sang At Dian's festival, the huntress-queen, Who bears the golden shafts; he saw and loved And, climbing to her chamber, met by stealth The damsel, and she bore a gallant son, Eudorus, swift of foot and brave in war. When Ilithyia, midwife goddess, gave The boy to see the pleasant light of day, The stout Echecleus, son of Actor, brought The mother to his house, with liberal dower. The aged Phylas reared the child she left Tenderly as a son, and loved him well. Pisander, warlike son of Mæmalus, Commanded the third squadron; none like him Among the Myrmidons could wield the spear Except Pelides. Phenix, aged knight, Led the fourth squadron. With the fifth and last There came Alcimedon, Laerceus' son, As leader. When their ranks were duly formed, Achilles spake to them in earnest words: "Now, Myrmidons, forget no single word Of all the threats ye uttered against Troy Since first my wrath began. Ye blame me much, And say: 'Hard-hearted son of Peleus, sure Thy mother must have suckled thee on gall; For sternly thou dost keep us in the ships, Unwilling as we are. We might, at least, Crossing the sea, return in our good ships, If thus thine anger is to last.' These words Ye utter oft when our assemblies meet, And now the great occasion is at hand Which ye have longed for; now let him whose heart Is fearless meet the Trojans valiantly." He spake, and roused their courage and their might; And as they heard their king they brought their ranks To closer order. As an architect Builds up, with closely fitting stones, the wall Of some tall mansion, proof against the blast, So close were now the helms and bossy shields. Shield leaned on shield, and helm on helm, and man On man, and on the glittering helmet-cones The horse-hair plumes with every motion touched Each other, so compact the squadrons stood. Two heroes, nobly armed, were at their head, Patroclus and Automedon, and both Had but one thought, -to combat in the van. Entering his tent, Achilles raised the lid Of a fair coffer, beautifully wrought, Which silver-footed Thetis placed on board His bark, and filled with tunics, cloaks well lined, And fleecy carpets. There he also kept A goblet richly chased, from which no lip Of man, save his, might drink the dark red wine, Nor wine be poured to any god save Jove, The mighty Father. This he took in hand And purified with sulphur first, and then Rinsed with clear water. Next, with washen hands, He drew the dark red wine, and stood without, In the open space, and, pouring out the wine, Prayed with his eyes turned heavenward, not unheard By Jupiter, who wields the thunderbolt. "Dodonian Jove, Pelasgian, sovereign King, Whose dwelling is afar, and who dost rule Dodona winter-bound, where dwell thy priests, The Selli, with unwashen feet, who sleep Upon the ground! Thou once hast heard my prayer, And thou hast honored me, and terribly Avenged me on the Greeks. Accomplish yet This one request of mine. I shall remain Among the rows of ships, but in my stead I send my comrade, who will lead to war My vast array of Myrmidons. With him, O God of Thunders, send the victory. Make his heart bold; let even Hector learn Whether my follower, though alone, can wage Successful war, or conquer only then When I go forth with him into the field Of slaughter. When he shall have beaten back The assailants from the fleet, let him return Unharmed to my good galleys and to me, With all his arms and all his valiant men." So spake he, offering prayer, and Jupiter, The Great Disposer, hearkened. Half the prayer The All-Father granted him, and half denied: To drive the storm of battle from the fleet He granted, but denied his friend's return In safety. When the warrior thus had prayed, And poured the wine to Father Jove, he went Into his tent again, and there replaced The goblet in the coffer. Coming forth, He stood before the entrance to behold The terrible encounter of the hosts. The newly armed, led by their gallant chief, Patroclus, marched in warlike order forth, And in high hope, to fall upon the foe. As wasps, that by the wayside build their cells, Angered from time to time by thoughtless boys, - Whence mischief comes to many, - if by chance Some passing traveller should unwittingly Disturb them, all at once are on the wing, And all attack him, to defend their young; So fearless and so fierce the Myrmidons Poured from their fleet, and mighty was the din. Patroclus with loud voice exhorted them:- "O Myrmidons, companions of the son Of Peleus, bear in mind, my friends, your fame For valor, and be men, that we who serve Achilles, we who combat hand to hand, May honor him by our exploits, and teach Wide-ruling Agamemnon how he erred Slighting the bravest warrior of the Greeks." These words awoke the courage and the might Of all who heard them, and in close array They fell upon the Trojans. Fearfully The fleet around them echoed to the sound Of Argives shouting. When the Trojans saw, In glittering arms, Menœtius' gallant son And his attendant, every heart grew faint With fear; the close ranks wavered; for they thought That the swift son of Peleus at the fleet Had laid aside his wrath, and was again The friend of Agamemnon. Eagerly They looked around for an escape from death. Then first Patroclus cast his shining spear Into the crowd before him, where they fought Most fiercely round the stern of the good ship Of brave Protesilaus. There it smote Pyræchmes, who had led from Amydon, On the broad Axius, his Peonian knights. Through his right shoulder went the blade; he fell, Heavily groaning, to the earth. His band Of warriors from Pæonia, panic-struck, Fled from Patroclus as they saw their chief Cut off, their bravest in the battle-field. So from the ship he drave the foe, and quenched The blazing fire. There lay the half-burnt bark, While with a mighty uproar fled the host Of Troy, and from between the beaked ships Poured after them with tumult infinite The Greeks. As when from some high mountain-top The God of Lightnings, Jupiter, sweeps off The overshadowing cloud, at once appear The watch-towers and the headland heights and lawns All in full light, and all the unmeasured depth Of ether opens, so the Greeks, when thus Their fleet was rescued from the hostile flame, Breathed for a space; and yet they might not cease From battle, for not everywhere alike Were chased the Trojans from the dark-hulled ships Before the Greeks, but struggled still to keep The mastery, and yielded but to force. Then in that scattered conflict of the chiefs Each Argive slew a warrior. With his spear The brave son of Menœtius made a thrust At Areïlochus, and pierced his thigh, Just as he turned away, and through the part Forced the keen weapon, splintering as it went The bone, and brought the Trojan to the ground; And warlike Menelaus pierced the breast Of Thoas where the buckler left it bare, And took his life. The son of Phyleus saw Amphiclus rushing on, and with his spear Met him and pierced his leg below the knee, Where brawniest is the limb. The blade cut through The sinews, and his eyes were closed in night. There fought the sons of Nestor. One of these, Antilochus, transfixed with his good spear Atymnius through the flank, and brought him down At his own feet. With sorrow Maris saw His brother fall, and toward Antilochus Flew to defend the corpse; but ere he strook, The godlike Thrasymedes, with a blow That missed not, smote his shoulder, tearing off With the spear's blade upon the upper arm The muscles from the bone. With ringing arms He fell, and darkness gathered o'er his eyes. Thus were two brothers by two brothers slain, And sent to Erebus; two valiant friends Were they of King Sarpedon, and the sons Of Amisodarus, who reared and fed Chimera, the destroyer of mankind. Oïlean Ajax, springing forward, seized On Cleobulus, for the struggling crowd Hindered his flight. He took the Trojan's life, Smiting the neck with his huge-handled sword; The blade grew warm with blood, and cruel fate Brought darkness o'er the dying warrior's eyes. Peneleus fought with Lycon; each had cast His spear and missed his aim, and now with swords The twain encountered. Lycon dealt a stroke Upon the crested helmet of his foe, And the blade failed him, breaking at the hilt. Meantime Peneleus smote beneath the ear The neck of Lycon: deep the weapon went; The severed head, held only by the skin, Dropped to one side, and life forsook the limbs. Meriones, o'ertaking Acamas, In rapid flight, discharged a mighty blow On his left shoulder as he climbed his car; He fell, and darkness gathered o'er his eyes. Then plunged Idomeneus the cruel spear Into the mouth of Erymas. The blade Passed on beneath the brain, and pierced the neck, And there divided the white bones. It dashed The teeth out; both the eyes were filled with blood, Which gushed from mouth and nostrils as he breathed; And the black cloud of death came over him. Thus every Grecian leader slew his man. As ravening wolves that spring on lambs and kids, And seize them, wandering wide among the hills Beyond the keeper's care, and bear them off, And rend with cruel fangs their helpless prey, So fiercely did the Achaians fling themselves Upon the men of Troy, who only thought Of flight from that tumultuous strife, and quite Forgot their wonted valor. All the while The greater Ajax sought to hurl his spear At Hector, clad in brazen mail, who yet, Expert in battle, kept his ample chest Hid by his bull's-hide shield, and, though he heard The hiss of darts and clash of spears, and saw The fortune of the field deserting him, Lingered to rescue his beloved friends. As from the summit of Olympus spreads A cloud into the sky that late was clear, When Jove brings on the tempest, with such speed In clamorous flight the Trojans left the fleet, Yet passed they not the trench in seemly plight. The rapid steeds of Hector bore him safe Across with all his arms, while, left between The high banks of the trench, the Trojan host Struggled despairingly. The fiery steeds, Harnessed to many a chariot, left it there With broken pole. Patroclus followed close, With mighty voice encouraging the Greeks, And meditating vengeance on the foe, That noisily ran on, and right and left Were scattered, filling all the ways. The dust Rose thick and high, and spread, and reached the clouds, As with swift feet the Trojan coursers held Their way to Ilium from the tents and ships. Patroclus where he saw the wildest rout Drave thither, shouting threats. Full many a chief Fell under his own axle from his car, And chariots with a crash were overthrown. The swift, immortal horses which the gods Bestowed on Peleus leaped the trench at once, Eager to reach the plain. As eagerly Patroclus longed to overtake and smite Hector, whose steeds were hurrying him away. As when, in autumn time, the dark-brown earth Is whelmed with water from the stormy clouds, When Jupiter pours down his heaviest rains, Offended at men's crimes who override The laws by violence, and drive justice forth From the tribunals, heedless of the gods And their displeasure, - all the running streams Are swelled to floods, - the furious torrents tear The mountain slopes, and, plunging from the heights With mighty roar, lay waste the works of men, And fling themselves into the dark-blue sea, — Thus with loud tumult fled the Trojan horse. Patroclus, having cut the nearest bands Of Troy in pieces, made his warriors turn Back to the fleet, and, eager as they were, Stopped the pursuit that led them toward the town. Then, in the area bounded by the sea, River, and lofty wall, he chased and smote And took full vengeance. With his glittering spear He wounded Pronous where the buckler left The breast exposed; the Trojan with a clash Fell to the earth, and life forsook his limbs. Advancing in his might, Patroclus smote Thestor, the son of Enops, as he sat Cowering upon his sumptuous seat, o'ercome With fear, and dropped the reins. Through his right cheek Among the teeth Patroclus thrust his spear, And o'er the chariot's border drew him forth With the spear's stem. As when an angler sits Upon a jutting rock, and from the sea Draws a huge fish with line and gleaming hook, So did Patroclus, with his shining spear, Draw forth the panting Trojan from his car, And shook him clear: he fell to earth and died. As Eryalus then came swiftly on, Patroclus flung a stone, and on the brow Smote him; the Trojan's head, beneath the blow, Parted in two within the helm; he fell Headlong to earth, a prey to ghastly death. Then slew he Erymas, Amphoterus, Epaltes, Pyris, Ipheus, Echius, Tlepolemus, Damastor's son, and next Euippus; nor was Polymelus spared, The son of Argias, - smitten all, and thrown, Slain upon slain, along their mother earth. And now Sarpedon, as he saw his friends, The unbelted Lycians, falling by the hand Of Menœtiades, exhorted thus The gallant Lycians: "Shame upon you all, My Lycians! whither do you flee? Be bold! For I myself will meet this man, and learn Who walks the field in triumph thus, and makes Such havoc in our squadrons; for his hand Has laid full many a gallant warrior low." He spake, and from his car with all his arms Sprang to the ground, while on the other side Patroclus, as he saw him come, leaped down And left his chariot. As on some tall rock Two vultures, with curved talons and hooked beaks, Fight screaming, so these two with furious cries Advanced against each other. When the son Of crafty Saturn saw them meet, his heart Was touched with pity, and he thus bespake His spouse and sister Juno: "Woe is me! Sarpedon, most beloved of men, is doomed To die, o'ercome by Menetiades. And now I halt between two purposes, - Whether to bear him from this fatal fight, Alive and safe, to Lycia's fertile fields, Or let him perish by his enemy's hand." Imperial, large-eyed Juno answered thus:- "What words, dread son of Saturn, hast thou said! Wouldst thou deliver from the common lot Of death a mortal doomed long since by fate? Do as thou wilt, but be thou sure of this, — The other gods will not approve. And bear In mind these words of mine. If thou shouldst send Sarpedon home to Lycia safe, reflect Some other god may claim the right, like thee, To rescue his beloved son from death In battle; for we know that in the war Round Priam's noble city are many sons Of gods, who will with vehement anger see Thy interposing hand. Yet if he be So dear to thee, and thou dost pity him, Let him in mortal combat be o'ercome By Menœtiades, and when the breath Of life has left his frame, give thou command To Death and gentle Sleep to bear him hence To the broad realm of Lycia. There his friends And brethren shall perform the funeral rites; There shall they build him up a tomb, and rear A column,-honors that become the dead." He ceased, nor did the All-Father disregard Her words. He caused a bloody dew to fall Upon the earth in sorrow for the son Whom well he loved, and whom Patroclus soon Should slay upon the fertile plain of Troy, Far from the pleasant land that saw his birth. The warriors now drew near. Patroclus slew The noble Thrasymelus, who had been Sarpedon's valiant comrade in the war. Below the belt he smote him, and he fell Lifeless. Sarpedon threw his shining lance; It missed, but struck the courser Pedasus In the right shoulder. With a groan he fell In dust, and, moaning, breathed his life away. Then the two living horses sprang apart, And the yoke creaked, and the entangled reins Were useless, fastened to the fallen horse. Automedon, the mighty spearman, saw The remedy, and from his brawny thigh He drew his sword, and cut the outside horse Loose from his fellows. They again were brought Together, and obeyed the reins once more; And the two chiefs renewed the mortal fight. And now, again, Sarpedon's shining spear Was vainly flung; the point, in passing o'er Patroclus's left shoulder, gave no wound. In turn, Patroclus, hurling not in vain His weapon, smote him where the midriff's web Holds the tough heart. He fell as falls an oak Or poplar or tall pine, which workmen hew Among the mountains with their sharpened steel To frame a ship. So he before his steeds And chariot fell upon the bloody dust, And grasped it with his hands, and gnashed his teeth. As when a lion coming on a herd Seizes, amid the crowd of stamping beeves, A tawny and high-mettled bull, that dies Bellowing in fury in the lion's jaws, - Like him, indignant to be overcome, The leader of the bucklered Lycian host, Laid prostrate by Patroclus, called by name His dear companion, and addressed him thus:- "Beloved Glaucus, mighty among men! Now prove thyself a hero, now be bold. Now, if thou have a warrior's spirit, think Of naught but battle. Go from rank to rank, Exhorting all the Lycian chiefs to fight Around Sarpedon. Combat thou for me With thy good spear, for I shall be to thee A shame and a reproach through all thy days, If here the Greeks, beside whose ships I fall, Bear off my armor. Stand thou firm, and stir Thy people up to combat valiantly." While he was speaking, death crept o'er his sight And stopped his breath. Patroclus set his heel Against his bosom, and plucked out the spear; The midriff followed it, and thus he drew The life and weapon forth at once. Meantime The Myrmidons held fast the snorting steeds, That, loosened from the Lycian's car, were bent On flight. The grief of Glaucus as he heard His comrade's voice was bitter, and his heart Ached at the thought that he could bring no aid. He seized his arm and pressed it in his grasp, For there the wound which Teucer's arrow left, When Glaucus stormed the wall and Teucer's shafts Defended it, still pained him grievously, And thus he prayed to Phœbus, archer-god:- "Give ear, O king! wherever thou abide In the opulent realm of Lycia, or in Troy; For everywhere thou hearest those who cry To thee in sorrow, and great sorrow now Is on me. Grievous is the wound I bear; Sharp are the pains that pierce my hand; the blood Cannot be stanched; my very arm becomes A burden; I can wield the spear no more With a firm grasp, nor combat with the foe. A mighty chief-Sarpedon, son of Jove- Has perished, and the father came not nigh To aid his son. Yet come thou to my aid, O monarch-god! and heal this painful wound, And give me strength to rally to the fight The Lycian warriors, and myself contend Valiantly for the rescue of the dead." So prayed he: Phœbus hearkened, and at once Assuaged the pain, and stanched the purple blood In the deep wound, and filled his frame with strength. The warrior felt the change, rejoiced to know That with such friendly speed the mighty god Granted his prayer. And first he went among The Lycian chiefs, exhorting them to wage Fierce battle for Sarpedon. Then he sought, Walking with rapid strides, the Trojan chiefs, Agenor, nobly born, Polydamas, The son of Panthoüs, Æneas next, And Hector mailed in brass. By him he stood, And thus accosted him with wingèd words: "O Hector, thou art careless of the fate Of thine allies, who for thy sake, afar From those they love, and from their native land, Pour out their lives; thou bringest them no aid. Sarpedon lies in death, the chief who led The bucklered Lycians, who with justice swayed The realm of Lycia, and defended it With valor. Him hath brazen Mars beneath The weapon of Patroclus smitten down. Come then, my friends, repulse we gallantly These Myrmidons; else will they bear away His armor and insult his corpse, to avenge The havoc we have made among the Greeks Who perished by our weapons at the fleet." He spake, and grief immitigable seized The Trojans; for the slain, though stranger-born, Had been a pillar of the realm of Troy, And many were the troops that followed him, And he was bravest of them all in war. Then rushed the Trojans fiercely on the Greeks, With Hector, sorrowing for Sarpedon's fall, Leading them on, while the bold-hearted chief Patroclus Menœtiades, aroused The courage of the Greeks. He thus addressed The warriors Ajax, eager like himself For combat: "Be it now your welcome task, O warriors Ajax, to drive back the foe; He who first sprang across the Grecian wall, Sarpedon, lies a corpse, and we must now Dishonor the dead chief, and strip from him His armor, and strike down with our good spears Whoever of his comrades shall resist." He spake, and all were resolute to beat The enemy back; and when, on either side, Trojans and Lycians, Myrmidons and Greeks, Had put their phalanxes in firm array, They closed, with dreadful shouts and horrid clash Of arms, in fight around the dead, while Jove Drew o'er that deadly fray an awful veil Of darkness, that the struggle for the corpse Of his dear son might rage more furiously. The Trojans first drave back the dark-eyed Greeks, For one was in the onset smitten down, Not the least valiant of the Myrmidons, - The son of brave Agacles, nobly born Epeigeus, who aforetime, when he ruled The populous Budeium, having slain A noble kinsman, fled a suppliant To Peleus and the silver-footed queen, Thetis, his consort, and by them was sent, With terrible Achilles, to the coast Of courser-breeding Ilium and the siege Of Troy. As now he stooped to seize the dead, Illustrious Hector smote him with a stone Upon the forehead, cleaving it in two In the strong helmet; headlong on the corse He fell, and cruel death crept over him. With grief Patroclus saw his comrade slain, And broke his way among the foremost ranks. As a swift hawk that chases through the air Starlings and daws, so didst thou dart among Trojans and Lycians, for thy wrath was roused, O knight Patroclus! by thy comrade's death. And now his hand struck Sthenelaüs down, The dear son of Ithæmenes; he flung A stone that crushed the sinews of the neck. Back drew illustrious Hector, and with him The warriors who were fighting in the van. As far as one can send a javelin, When men contend in martial games, or meet Their deadly enemies in war, so far Withdrew the Trojans, and the Greeks pursued. The leader of the bucklered Lycian host, Glaucus, was first to turn against his foes. He slew the brave Bathycles, the dear son Of Chalcon, who in Hellas had his home, And was the richest of the Myrmidons. The Lycian, turning on him suddenly As he drew near pursuing, sent his spear Right through his breast, and with a clash he fell. Great was the sorrow of the Greeks to see That valiant warrior fall; the men of Troy Exulted, and pressed round him in a crowd. Nor lacking was the valor of the Greeks, Who met them manfully. Meriones Struck down a Trojan chief, Laogonus, Onetor's valiant son. His father stood Priest at the altar of Idæan Jove, And like a god was honored by the realm. Below the jaw and ear Meriones Smote him, and instantly the life forsook His limbs, and fearful darkness shrouded him. Straight at Meriones Æneas aimed His brazen spear to smite him, as he came, Beneath his buckler; but the Greek beheld The weapon in the air, and, stooping low, Escaped it; over him it passed, and stood Fixed in the earth behind him, where its stem Trembled, for now the rapid steel had spent Its force. As thus it quivered in the ground, Æneas, who perceived that it had left His powerful hand in vain, was vexed, and said: "Had I but struck thee, dancer as thou art, Meriones, my spear had suddenly Ended thy dancing." Then Meriones, The skilful spearman, answered: "Thou art brave, But thou wilt find it hard to overcome The might of all who gather to repulse Thy onset. Thou art mortal, and if I, Aiming at thee with my good spear, should pierce Thy bosom, valiant as thou art and proud Of thy strong arm, thy death would bring me praise, And send thy soul where gloomy Pluto dwells." He spake; the brave Patroclus heard, and thus Rebuked him: "Why wilt thou, Meriones, With all thy valor, stand to make a speech. The foe, my friend, will not be forced to leave The corpse by insults; some of them must die. In deeds the issue of a battle lies; Words are for counsel. Now is not the time To utter swelling phrases, but to fight." He ended, and went on; the godlike man Followed his steps. As when from mountain dells Rises, and far is heard, a crashing sound Where woodmen fell the trees, such was the noise From those who fought on that wide plain, - the din Of brass, of leather, and of tough bull's-hide Smitten with swords and two-edged spears. No eye, Although of keenest sight, would then have known Noble Sarpedon, covered as he lay, From head to foot, with weapons, blood, and dust; And still the warriors thronged around the dead. As when in spring-time at the cattle-stalls Flies gather, humming, when the milk is drawn, Round the full pails, so swarmed around the corpse The combatants; nor once did Jove withdraw His bright eyes from the stubborn fray, but still Gazed, planning how Patroclus should be slain. Uncertain whether, in the desperate strife Over the great Sarpedon, to permit Illustrious Hector with his spear to lay The hero dead, and make his arms a spoil, Or spare him yet a while, to make the war More bloody. As he pondered, this seemed best: That the brave comrade of Achilles first Should put to flight the Trojans and their chief, Hector the brazen-mailed, pursuing them Toward Troy with slaughter. To this end he sent Into the heart of Hector panic fear, Who climbed his car and fled, and bade the rest Flee also, for he saw how Jove had weighed The fortunes of the day. Now none remained, Not even the gallant Lycians, when they saw Their monarch lying wounded to the heart Among a heap of slain; for Saturn's son In that day's strife had caused a multitude To fall in death. Now when the Greeks had stripped Sarpedon of the glittering brazen mail, The brave son of Menœtius bade his friends Convey it to the hollow ships. Meanwhile The Cloud-compeller spake to Phœbus thus: - "Go now, beloved Phœbus, and withdraw Sarpedon from the weapons of the foe; Cleanse him from the dark blood, and bear him thence, And lave him in the river-stream, and shed Ambrosia o'er him. Clothe him then in robes Of heaven, consigning him to Sleep and Death, Twin brothers, and swift bearers of the dead, And they shall lay him down in Lycia's fields, That broad and opulent realm. There shall his friends And kinsmen give him burial, and shall rear His tomb and column, - honors due the dead." He spake: Apollo instantly obeyed His father, leaving Ida's mountain height, And sought the field of battle, and bore off Noble Sarpedon from the enemy's spears, And laved him in the river-stream, and shed Ambrosia o'er him. Then in robes of heaven He clothed him, giving him to Sleep and Death, Twin brothers and swift bearers of the dead, And they, with speed conveying it, laid down The corpse in Lycia's broad and opulent realm. Meantime Patroclus, urging on his steeds And charioteer, pursued, to his own hurt, Trojans and Lycians. Madman! had he then Obeyed the counsel which Pelides gave, The bitter doom of death had not been his. But stronger than the purposes of men Are those of Jove, who puts to flight the brave, And takes from them the victory, though he Impelled them to the battle; and he now Urged on Patroclus to prolong the fight. Who first, when thus the gods decreed thy death, Fell by thy hand, Patroclus, and who last? Adrastus first, Autonoüs next, and then Echeclus; then died Perimus, the son Of Meges; then with Melanippus fell Epistor; next was Elasus o'ercome, And Mulius, and Pylartes. These he slew, While all the rest betook themselves to flight. Then had the Greeks possessed themselves of Troy, With all its lofty portals, by the hand And valor of Patroclus, for his rage Was terrible beyond the rage of all Who bore the spear, had not Apollo stood On a strong tower to menace him with ill, And aid the Trojans. Thrice Patroclus climbed A shoulder of the lofty wall, and thrice Apollo, striking his immortal hands Against the glittering buckler, thrust him down; And when, for the fourth time, the godlike man Essayed to mount the wall, the archer-god, Phœbus, encountered him with fearful threats: "Noble Patroclus, hold thy hand, nor deem The city of the warlike Trojans doomed To fall beneath thy spear, nor by the arm Of Peleus' son, though mightier far than thou." He spake; Patroclus, fearful of the wrath Of the archer-god, withdrew, and stood afar, While Hector, at the Scean gates, restrained His coursers, doubtful whether to renew The fight by mingling with the crowd again, Or gather all his host within the walls By a loud summons. As he pondered thus, Apollo stood beside him in the form Of Asius, a young warrior and a brave, Uncle of Hector, the great horse-tamer, And brother of Queen Hecuba, and son Of Dymas, who in Phrygia dwelt beside The streams of the Sangarius. Putting on His shape and aspect, thus Apollo said: “Why, Hector, dost thou pause from battle thus? Nay, it becomes thee not. Were I in might Greater than thou, as I am less, full soon Wouldst thou repent this shrinking from the war. Come boldly on, and urge thy firm-paced steeds Against Patroclus; slay him on the field, And Phœbus will requite thee with renown." He spake, and mingled in the hard-fought fray, While noble Hector bade his charioteer, The brave Cebriones, ply well the lash, And join the battle. Phœbus went before, Entering the crowd, and spread dismay among The Greeks, and gave the glory of the hour To Hector and the Trojans. Little heed Paid Hector to the rest, nor raised his arm To slay them, but urged on his firm-paced steeds To meet Patroclus, who, beholding him, Leaped from his car. In his left hand he held A spear, and with the other lifting up A white, rough stone, the largest he could grasp, Flung it with all its force. It flew not wide, Nor flew in vain, but smote Cebriones, The warlike chief who guided Hector's steeds, A spurious son of Priam the renowned. The sharp stone smote his forehead as he held The reins, and crushed both eyebrows in; the bone Resisted not the blow; the warrior's eyes Fell in the dust before his very feet. Down from the sumptuous seat he plunged, as dives A swimmer, and the life forsook his limbs. And this, Patroclus, was thy cruel jest: "Truly a nimble man is this who dives With such expertness. Were this, now, the sea, Where fish are bred, and he were searching it For oysters, he might get an ample store For many men, in leaping from a ship, Though in a storm, so skilfully he dives Even from the chariot to the plain. No doubt There must be divers in the town of Troy." He spake, and sprang upon Cebriones. With all a lion's fury, which attacks The stables and is wounded in the breast, And perishes through his own daring; thus, Patroclus, didst thou fall upon the slain, While Hector, hastening also, left his steeds, And both contended for Cebriones. As lions for the carcass of a deer Fight on a mountain summit, hungry both, And both unyielding, thus two mighty men Of war, Patroclus Menœtiades And glorious Hector, eager each to smite His adversary with the cruel spear, Fought for Cebriones. The slain man's head Was seized by Hector's powerful hand, whose grasp Relaxed not, while Patroclus held the foot; And, thronging to the spot, the other Greeks And Trojans mingled in the desperate strife. As when the east wind and the south contend In the open mountain grounds, and furiously Assail the deep old woods of beech and ash And barky cornel, flinging their long boughs Against each other with a mighty roar, And crash of those that break, so did the Greeks And Trojans meet with mutual blows, and slay Each other; nor had either host a thought Of shameful flight. Full many a trenchant spear Went to its mark beside Cebriones, And many a winged arrow that had left The bowstring; many a massive stone was hurled Against the ringing bucklers, as they fought Around the dead, while he, the mighty, lay Stretched on the ground amid the eddying dust, Forgetful of his art of horsemanship. While yet the sun was climbing to his place In middle heaven, the men of either host Were smitten by the weapons, and in both The people fell; but when he stooped to the west The Greeks prevailed, and from that storm of darts And tumult of the Trojans they drew forth Cebriones, and stripped him of his arms. Still rushed Patroclus onward, bent to wreak His fury on the Trojans. Fierce as Mars, He charged their squadrons thrice with fearful shouts, And thrice he laid nine warriors in the dust. But as with godlike energy he made The fourth assault, then clearly was it seen, Patroclus, that thy life was near its end, For Phœbus terribly in that fierce strife Encountered thee. Patroclus saw him not Advancing in the tumult, for he moved Unseen in darkness. Coming close behind, He smote, with open palm, the hero's back Between the ample shoulders, and his eyes Reeled with the blow, while Phœbus from his head Struck the tall helm, that, clanking, rolled away Under the horses' feet; its crest was soiled With blood and dust, though never till that hour Had dust defiled its horse-hair plume; for once That helmet guarded an illustrious head, The glorious brows of Peleus' son, and now Jove destined it for Hector, to be worn In battle; and his death was also near. The spear Patroclus wielded, edged with brass, Long, tough, and huge, was broken in his hands; And his broad buckler, dropping with its band, Lay on the ground, while Phœbus, son of Jove, Undid the fastenings of his mail. With mind Bewildered, and with powerless limbs, he stood As thunderstruck. Then a Dardanian named Euphorbus, son of Panthoüs, who excelled His comrades in the wielding of the spear, The race, and horsemanship, approaching, smote Patroclus in the back with his keen spear, Between the shoulder-blades. Already he Had dashed down twenty warriors from their cars, Guiding his own, a learner in the art Of war. The first was he who threw a lance At thee, Patroclus, yet o'ercame thee not; For, plucking from thy back its ashen stem, He fled, and mingled with the crowd, nor dared Await thy coming, though thou wert unarmed, While, weakened by that wound and by the blow Given by the god, Patroclus turned and sought Shelter from danger in the Grecian ranks; But Hector, when he saw the gallant Greek Thus wounded and retreating, left his place Among the squadrons, and, advancing, pierced Patroclus with his spear, below the belt, Driving the weapon deep. The hero fell With clashing mail, and all the Greeks beheld His fall with grief. As when a lion bears A stubborn boar to earth, what time the twain Fight on the mountains for a slender spring, Both thirsty and both fierce, the lion's strength Lays prone his panting foe, so Priam's son Slew, fighting hand to hand, the valiant Greek, Son of Menœtius, who himself had slain So many. Hector gloried over him With wingèd words: "Patroclus, thou didst think To lay our city waste, and carry off Our women captive in thy ships to Greece. Madman! in their defence the fiery steeds Of Hector sweep the battle-field, and I, Mightiest of all the Trojans, with the spear Will guard them from the doom of slavery. Now vultures shall devour thee, wretched youth! Achilles, mighty though he be, has brought No help to thee, though doubtless when he sent Thee forth to battle, and remained within, He charged thee thus: 'Patroclus, flower of knights, Return not to the fleet until thy hand Hath torn the bloody armor from the corpse Of the man-queller Hector.' So he spake, And filled with idle hopes thy foolish heart." Then thou, Patroclus, with a faltering voice, Didst answer thus: "Now, Hector, while thou mayst, Utter thy boast in swelling words, since Jove And Phœbus gave the victory to thee. Easily have they vanquished me; 't was they Who stripped the armor from my limbs, for else, If twenty such as thou had met me, all Had perished by my spear. A cruel fate O'ertakes me, aided by Latona's son, The god, and by Euphorbus among men. Thou who shalt take my spoil art but the third; Yet hear my words, and keep them in thy thought. Not long shalt thou remain alive; thy death By violence is at hand, and thou must fall, Slain by the hand of great Eacides." While he was speaking, death stole over him And veiled his senses, while the soul forsook His limbs and flew to Hades, sorrowing For its sad lot, to part from life in youth And prime of strength. Illustrious Hector thus Answered the dying man: "Why threaten me, Patroclus, with an early death? Who knows That he, thy friend, whom fair-haired Thetis bore Achilles, may not sooner lose his life, Slain by my spear?" He spake, and set his heel Upon the slain, and from the wound drew forth His brazen spear and pushed the corpse aside, And with the weapon hurried on to smite Godlike Automedon, the charioteer Of swift Æacides; but him the steeds Fleet-footed and immortal, which the gods Bestowed on Peleus, swiftly bore away.
BOOK XVII. THE warlike Menelaus, Atreus' son, Beheld Patroclus fall by Trojan hands, And came in glittering armor to the van To guard the body of the slain. As walks A heifer moaning round her new-born young, So fair-haired Menelaus stalked around The body of Patroclus, holding forth His spear and great round shield, intent to slay Whoever came against him. But the son Of Panthoüs, mighty spearman, not the less Intent to spoil the illustrious dead, drew near, And spake to warlike Menelaus thus:- "Atrides Menelaus, reared by Jove, And leader of thy host, give way and leave The dead, and quit to me his bloody spoil; For none of our brave Trojans and allies Smote him in deadly combat with the spear, Before me. Leave me therefore to receive The glory due me from the sons of Troy, Else will I smite thee too, and thou wilt lose Thy precious life!" Indignant at the word, The fair-haired Menelaus answered him:- "O Father Jove! unseemly boasts are these! For not the panther's nor the lion's might, Nor that of the fierce forest-boar whose rage Is heightened, into fury, is as great As that which these distinguished spearmen, sons Of Panthoüs, utter with their lips. And yet The horseman Hyperenor did not long Enjoy his youth when he with insolent words Assailed me, and withstood me, - when he said That I was the most craven wretch who bore Arms in the Grecian host. He never turned, I think, his footsteps homeward to delight His reverend parents and beloved wife; And I, like his, will take thy life, if thou Oppose me. Heed my counsel, and withdraw Among the crowd, and so avoid my stroke Before thou come to harm. He is a fool Who only sees the mischiefs that are past." He said: Euphorbus, heeding not his words Of warning, spake again: "Now is my time, Jove-nurtured Menelaus, to avenge My brother, slain by thee, and over whom Thou utteredst such swelling words, whose wife In her new bridal chamber thou hast made A widow, and upon her parents brought Mourning and endless sorrow. It may make The sorrow less, should I into the hands Of Panthoüs and the noble Phrontis give Thy head and armor. Let us now delay The strife no longer: it will show with whom The valor dwells, and who is moved by fear." He spake, and smote his enemy's round shield, But pierced it not; the stubborn metal turned The weapon's point. Then Menelaus, son Of Atreus, with a prayer to Jupiter, Struck, as Euphorbus made a backward step, His throat, and drave the weapon with strong hand Through the soft neck. He fell with clashing arms. His locks, which were like those the Graces wear, And ringlets, bound with gold and silver bands, Were drenched with blood. As when some husbandman Rears in a lonely and well-watered spot An olive-tree with widely spreading boughs, Beautiful with fresh shoots, and putting forth White blossoms, gently waved by every wind, A sudden blast descends with mighty sweep And tears it from its bed, and lays it prone Upon the earth, - so lay Euphorbus, skilled To wield the spear and son of Panthoüs, slain And spoiled by Menelaus, Atreus' son. As when a lion of the mountain wilds, Fearless and strong, bears from the browsing herd The fairest of the kine, and breaks her neck With his strong teeth, and, tearing her, devours The bloody entrails, while a clamorous throng Of dogs and herdsmen, with incessant cries, Gather around him, yet approach him not, Withheld by fear, so of the warriors round The gallant Menelaus none could find The courage to encounter him; and then Atrides easily had borne away The sumptuous armor worn by Panthoüs' son, If envious Apollo had not moved Hector to meet him. Putting on the form Of Mentes, chief of the Ciconian band, He said to him aloud, with wingèd words: “Hector, thou art pursuing what thy feet Will never overtake, the steeds which draw The chariot of Achilles. Hard it were For mortal man to tame them or to guide, Save for Achilles, goddess-born. Meanwhile Hath warlike Menelaus, Atreus' son, Guarding the slain Patroclus, overthrown Euphorbus, bravest of the Trojan host, A son of Panthoüs; he will fight no more." Thus spake the god, and disappeared among The warring squadrons. Bitter was the grief That seized the heart of Hector as he looked Along the ranks and saw the Greek bear off The sumptuous arms, and saw the Trojan lie Weltering in blood. At once he made his way To the front rank, all armed in glittering brass, And with loud shouts. As terrible he came As Vulcan's inextinguishable fires. The son of Atreus heard that mighty shout, And thus to his great soul lamenting said: - "If I abandon these rich spoils and leave Patroclus, who has perished in my cause, I fear the Greeks will look upon the act With indignation. If, through dread of shame, I fight alone with Hector and his men, I fear to be o'erwhelmed by multitudes, For crested Hector leads the whole array Of Trojans hither. Yet why question thus ? For when a warrior ventures to assault One whom a god protects, a bitter doom Is his. Then none of all the Greeks should blame If I give way to Hector, whom a god Hath sent against me. Yet could I but hear The voice of mighty Ajax, we would both Return, and even against a god renew The combat, that we haply might restore Patroclus to Achilles, Peleus' son. Such in this choice of evils were the least." As thus he mused, the men of Troy came on, With Hector at their head. The Greek gave way And left the slain. As when a lion, driven With pikes and clamor from the herdsman's stalls By men and dogs, unwillingly retreats, His valiant heart still raging in his breast, So did the fair-haired Menelaus leave Patroclus. When he reached the Grecian ranks, He turned and stood and looked about to find The mighty Ajax, son of Telamon, And him he soon beheld on the left edge Of battle, rallying there and heartening His men; for Phœbus from above had sent A panic fear among them. To him then The son of Atreus went in haste and said: - “Ajax, my friend, come hither where we fight Around Patroclus. Let us strive at least To bring Achilles back the hero's corpse, Though stripped; for crested Hector hath his arms." He spake; the courage of the warlike son Of Telamon was kindled by his words. To the front rank he hastened, and with him Went fair-haired Menelaus. Hector there Had spoiled Patroclus of his glorious arms, And now was dragging him apart to hew The head away with his keen sword, and give The body to the dogs of Troy. Just then Came Ajax, bearing, like a tower, his shield, And Hector mingled with the Trojan ranks, And leaped into his car; but first he gave His friends the glittering spoil to bear away To Troy, -a glory to the conqueror; While Ajax, over Menœtiades Holding his ample shield, stood firm as stands A lion o'er his whelps, when, as he comes Leading them through the wood, the hunters rush Upon him, and his look is terrible As his knit eyebrows cover his fierce eyes. So Ajax moved around the hero's corpse, While warlike Menelaus by his side, The son of Atreus, stood in bitter grief. Then, with a look of anger, Glaucus spake - Son of Hippolochus, and chief among The Lycians-thus to Hector: "Though thy form, Hector, be noble, yet in prowess thou Art wanting, and thy fame in feats of war Is not deserved, since thou dost fly the foe. Think whether thou alone, with others born In Troy, canst save the city and the state. For henceforth will no Lycian fight for Troy Against the Greeks; this conflict without end Has never earned them thanks. Inglorious chief! How wilt thou be the shield of humbler men, If thou canst leave Sarpedon, who has been Thy comrade and thy guest, to be the prey And spoil of the Greek warriors? While he lived, Great was the aid he brought thy cause and thee, And now thou dost not seek to drive away The dogs from his neglected corpse. For this, If any of the Lycians heed my words, They will go home, and imminent will be The ruin of thy city. If that firm And resolute valor lived in Trojan hearts Which they should cherish who in the defence Of their own country bear the toils and face The dangers of the field, we might this hour Drag off the slain Patroclus into Troy. And should we bear him from the thick of fight To the great city of Priam, soon the Greeks Would let us ransom the rich armor worn By our Sarpedon, and bring back his corpse; For he lies slain who was the bosom friend Of the most valiant chieftain at the fleet Of Greece, and leader of her bravest men. But thou, when great-souled Ajax fixed his eye Upon thee, didst not venture to remain And fight with him; he is more brave than thou." The crested Hector frowned and thus replied:- "Why, Glaucus, should a warrior such as thou Utter such violent words? My friend, I deemed That thou wert wise above all other men Of fertile Lycia, but I now must blame Thy judgment when thou say'st I shrink to meet The mighty Ajax. I do neither dread The battle's fury nor the rush of steeds; But all-prevailing are the purposes Of ægis-bearing Jove, who makes the brave To flee, and takes from him the victory, And then again impels him to the fight. Come then, my friend, stand by me; see if I Skulk this time from the conflict, as thou say'st, Or tame the courage of whatever Greek, The bravest, who defends Patroclus slain." He spake, and, shouting, cheered the Trojans on: "Trojans and Lycians and Dardanians, trained To combat hand to hand, let it be seen, My friends, that ye are men, and still retain Your ancient valor; while I buckle on The glorious armor of the illustrious son Of Peleus, taken from Patroclus slain." So spake the crested Hector, and withdrew From the fierce conflict, and with rapid steps O'ertook his comrades as they bore away Townward the glorious arms of Peleus' son. There from that deadly strife apart he stood, And changed his coat of mail. He gave his own To his companions, to be carried thence To sacred Ilium, and he buckled on The immortal armor of Achilles, son Of Peleus, which the gods of heaven bestowed Upon his father, who in his old age Consigned them to Achilles; but the son Was never in that armor to grow old. And when the Cloud-compeller Jove beheld Hector apart, accoutred in the arms Of Peleus' godlike son, he shook his head, And to himself he said: "Unhappy man! Death even now is near to thee, and yet Is not in all thy thoughts. Thou puttest on The heavenly armor of the terrible chief, Before whom others tremble; thou hast slain His friend, the brave and gentle, and hast stripped, To do him shame, the armor from his limbs. Yet will I for the moment give to thee Fresh triumphs, since Andromache shall ne'er Receive, when thou returnest from the field, The armor of Pelides from thy hands." The son of Saturn spake, and gave the nod With his dark brows. Well did that coat of mail Suit Hector's form. Meantime the god of war In all his fierceness entered Hector's breast : Fresh vigor filled and nerved his frame; he went Along the ranks of his renowned allies With shouts; that glittering armor made him seem The large-souled son of Peleus. To them all He spake in turn, encouraging their hearts, - To Mesthles, Glaucus, and Thersilochus, Medon, Deisenor, and Hippothoüs, Asteropæus, Phorcys, Chromius, And Ennomus the Augur; these the chief Exhorted to the fight with wingèd words: - "Hear me, ye mighty throng of our allies, Dwellers of nations round us! Not to make Our army vast in numbers did I send To summon you, each from his native town, But that your willing valor might defend The wives and children of the sons of Troy From the assailing Greeks. I therefore give Most freely of our substance in large gifts And banquets, that ye all may be content; And now let some of you move boldly on To do or die, which is the chance of war. To him who from the field will drag and bring The slain Patroclus to the Trojan knights, Compelling Ajax to give way, - to him I yield up half the spoil; the other half I keep, and let his glory equal mine." He spake, and all that mighty multitude With lifted lances threw themselves against The Grecian ranks. They hoped to bear away The dead from Ajax, son of Telamon. Ah, idle hope! that hero o'er the dead Took many a Trojan's life. Then Ajax thus To Menelaus, great in battle, spake: - “O friend, O Menelaus, reared by Jove, No longer now I hope our safe return From battle. Not the greatest of my fears Is for Patroclus, whom the dogs of Troy And birds of prey full quickly will devour, But for my life and thine. That cloud of war, Hector, o'ershadows all, and over us Impends the doom of death. Yet let us call Our mighty men, if they perchance may hear." He spake, and Menelaus, great in war, Obeyed his wish and shouted to the Greeks: - "O friends, the princes and the chiefs of Greece, Who at the public feasts with Atreus' sons - King Agamemnon and his brother chief- Drink wine, - who each command a host, and hold Your honors and your state from Jove, my eyes Cannot discern you in the thick of fight; But some of you, who cannot bear to leave Patroclus to the dogs of Troy, draw near!" He spake; Oïlean Ajax, swift of foot, Heard and came forward, hastening through the fight; And after him Idomeneus, who brought Meriones, his armor-bearer, fierce As the man-slayer Mars. But who could tell The names of all the other Greeks that sprang To mingle in the strife? The Trojans made The first assault, and Hector led them on. As at the mouth of some great river, swoln By rains from Jove, the mighty ocean-wave Meets it with roaring, and the cliffs around Rebellow, while the surges toss without, With such a clamor came the Trojans on, While round Patroclus closed, with one accord, The Greeks, protected by their brazen shields, And o'er their shining helmets Saturn's son Poured darkness. For when Menœtiades Yet lived, attendant upon Peleus' son, Jove looked on him with no unkind regard, And now he would not that his corse should feed The enemy's dogs, and therefore moved his friends To rescue him. At first the Trojans drave The dark-eyed Greeks before them; back they fell And left the dead; yet, fiercely as they came, The Trojans slew no man, but dragged away The dead. A moment, and no more, the Greeks Fell back; for Ajax quickly rallied them, - Ajax, who, next to Peleus' valiant son, Excelled them all in form and feats of war; He through the foremost warriors brake, as strong As a wild boar that on the mountain's side Breaks through the shrubs, and scatters with a bound A band of youths and dogs. The illustrious son Of honored Telamon thus put to rout The Trojan phalanxes environing Patroclus, in the hope to bear him thence Townward with glory. There Hippothoüs, son Of Lethus the Pelasgian, having bound A thong about the sinewy ankle, toiled To drag away the slain man by the foot From that fierce strife, - a grateful spectacle To Hector and the Trojans. Yet on him A vengeance which no friendly arm could ward Fell suddenly. The son of Telamon Rushed through the crowd, and in close combat smote His helmet's brazen cheek. That plumèd helm Was cleft by the huge spear and vigorous hand, And where the weapon struck Hippothoüs, Mingled with blood the brain gushed forth; the life Forsook his limbs; he dropped from nerveless hands The foot of brave Patroclus, and beside The corpse fell headlong, - far from the rich fields Of his Larissa, never to repay With gentle cares in their old age the love Of his dear parents; for his life was short, Slain by the spear of Ajax, large of soul. Then Hector aimed again his shining spear At Ajax, who perceived it as it came, And just avoided it. The weapon struck Schedius, the valiant son of Iphitus, And bravest of the Phocians, whose abode Was Panopeus the famous, where he ruled O'er many men. Beneath the collar-bone It pierced him, and passed through; the brazen point Came out upon the shoulder; to the ground He fell, his armor clashing with his fall. Then Ajax smote the valiant Phorcys, son Of Phænops, in the navel. Through the mail The brazen weapon broke, and roughly tore The entrails. In the dust he fell, and clenched The earth with dying hands. The foremost ranks, Led by illustrious Hector, at the sight Yielded the ground; the Greeks with fearful shouts Dragged off the bodies of Hippothoüs And Phorcys, and despoiled them of their arms. Then would the Trojans have been put to flight Before the warlike Greeks, and, craven-like, Gone up to Troy, and great had been the fame Gained by the might and courage of the Greeks, Beyond what Jupiter designed to give, Had not Apollo brought Æneas forth By putting on the form of Periphas, The herald and the son of Epytus, Who in that office as a prudent friend And counsellor had served, till he grew old, The father of Æneas. In his shape Thus spake Apollo, son of Jupiter: - "Æneas, ye might even hold the towers Of lofty Ilium safe against a god, Were ye to act as some whom I have seen, — Valiant, and confident in their own might And multitude of dauntless followers. And now Jove favors us and offers us The victory o'er the Greeks, and yet ye flee In abject terror, and refuse to fight." He spake; Æneas, looking at him, knew The archer-god, and with a mighty voice Called out to Hector: "Hector! thou and all Who lead the troops of Troy, and our allies, Great shame it were if we were put to rout Before the warlike Greeks, and beaten back To Troy like cowards. Standing by my side, One of the gods already hath declared That Jupiter, All-wise, is our ally In battle. Let us therefore boldly fall Upon the Greeks, nor suffer them to bear Patroclus unmolested to their fleet." He spake, and, springing to the foremost ranks, Stood firm; the Trojans also turned and faced The Achaians. Then Æneas with his spear Struck down Leocritus, the gallant friend Of Lycomedes and Arisbas' son. The warlike Lycomedes saw his fall With grief, and came and cast his shining spear At Apisaon, son of Hippasus, A shepherd of the people. Underneath The midriff, through the liver went the spear, And he fell lifeless. He had come to Troy From rich Pæonia, and was great in war, Next to Asteropæus. As he saw His comrade fall, Asteropæus, moved By grief, advanced to combat with the Greeks, But could not; for the group that stood around Patroclus showed a fence of shields, and held Their spears before them. Ajax moved among The warriors, charging them that none should leave The corpse, and none should step beyond the rest To strike the foe, but stay to guard the dead, And combat hand to hand. Such was the charge Of mighty Ajax. All the earth around Was steeped with blood, and many a corpse was heaped On corpse of Trojans and their brave allies, And of the Greeks, for even on their side The strife was not unbloody, though of Greeks There perished fewer; each was on the watch To ward the battle's dangers from the rest. Then did they fight like fire. You could not say The sun was safe, nor yet the moon, so thick A darkness gathered over the brave men Around the corpse of Menetiades. The other Trojans and the well-armed Greeks Fought freely under the clear sky; the sun Shed o'er them his full brightness; not a cloud Shadowed the earth, or rested on the hills. From time to time they paused, and warily They shunned each other's cruel darts, and kept Far from each other, while in the mid-war Struggled the combatants in darkness, galled By the remorseless weapons of their foes. Yet Thrasymedes and Antilochus, Two famous Grecian warriors, had not learned That excellent Patroclus was no more, But thought that, still alive, he led the war Against the Trojans, fighting in the van. They watched the flight and slaughter of the Greeks, And fought apart, for Nestor so enjoined, Who sent them to the battle from the fleet. But they who held the middle space around The friend of swift Æacides, maintained A desperate strife all day; the knees, the thighs, The feet, the hands, the eyes of those who fought Were faint with weariness and foul with sweat. As when an ample ox-hide, steeped in fat, Is given to workmen to be stretched, they stand Around it in a circle, pulling it, Till forth the moisture issues, and the oil Enters the skin, and by that constant strain From many hands the hide is duly stretched, So in small space the warriors drew the dead Hither and thither; they of Ilium strove To drag it to the city, they of Greece To bear it to the fleet. The tumult then Was terrible, and neither Mars himself, The musterer of hosts, nor Pallas, roused To her intensest wrath, had they been near The struggle, would have seen it with disdain. Such deadly strife of steeds and men was held O'er slain Patroclus by the will of Jove. The great Achilles knew not yet the fate Of his Patroclus, for the warriors fought Far from the fleet, beside the wall of Troy. He never thought of him as one whose death Was near, but trusted that, when once he reached The Trojan wall, he would return alive; Nor ever deemed he that without his aid, Or even with it, would Patroclus sack The city. This was what he oft had heard From Thetis, who disclosed to him apart The counsel of Almighty Jupiter. Yet had his mother never once revealed The present evil, - that the one whom most He loved of all his friends should perish thus. Still round the dead they fought with their keen spears, And slew each other. Then of the mailed Greeks Some one would say: "O friends, it were disgrace Should we fall back upon our roomy ships. First let the dark earth swallow us; for this Were better than to let the Trojan knights Drag off the dead in triumph to their town." And some among the large-souled sons of Troy Would say: "O friends, though all of us should fall Beside this corpse, let no one turn and flee." Thus they, encouraging each other, spake, And thus the fight went on. The iron din Rose through the waste air to the brazen heaven. Meantime aloof from battle stood the steeds Of Peleus' son, and sorrowed when they knew That he who guided them lay stretched in dust By Hector's slaughtering hand. Automedon, The brave son of Diores, often tried The lash, and gentle words as oft, and oft Shouted forth threats; yet neither would they move Toward the broad Hellespont, where lay the fleet, Nor toward the Greeks in combat, but remained Motionless as a funeral column, reared To mark a man's or woman's tomb. So stood The coursers yoked to that magnificent car, With drooping heads, and tears that from their lids Flowed hot, for sorrow at the loss of him Who was their charioteer, and their fair manes, Sweeping the yoke below, were foul with dust. The son of Saturn saw their grief, and shook His head in pity, saying to himself: - "Why did the gods bestow you, luckless pair, On Peleus, - on a king of mortal birth, - You who shall never feel old age or death? Was it that ye might share with human-kind Their sorrows? for the race of mortal men Of all that breathe and move upon the earth Is the most wretched. Yet of this be sure, - That ye shall never in that sumptuous car Bear Hector. Is it not enough that he Should wear that armor, uttering idle boasts? And now will I infuse into your limbs Spirit and strength, that ye may safely bear Automedon across the battle-field To where the roomy galleys lie. I yet Must give more glory to the men of Troy, And they must slay until they come again To the good ships of Greece, - until the sun Goes down and sacred darkness covers all." So spake the god, and breathed into the steeds New life and vigor. From their manes they shook The dust, and flew with that swift car among The Greeks and Trojans. With the Trojan throng, Automedon, though mourning his slain friend, Maintained the fight; he rushed upon their ranks, A vulture pouncing on a flock of geese. Swiftly he passed from out the Trojan throng; Swiftly again he charged their phalanxes In fierce pursuit. Yet slew he none of those Whom he pursued; he could not guide at once The steeds and cast the spear, when seated thus Alone within that sacred car. At last A friend, the valorous Alcimedon, Laërces' son, of Emon's line, beheld His plight, and, standing near his chariot, said:- "What god, Automedon, hath prompted thee To these mad acts, and stolen thy better sense, Fighting alone among the foremost ranks Of Trojan warriors, thy companion slain, And Hector in the field, who boastfully Stalks in the armor of Æacides?" And thus Automedon, Diores' son, Made answer: "Who is there among the Greeks Able like thee, Alcimedon, to rein And curb the spirit of immortal steeds? None were there save Patroclus while he lived, Wise as a god in council. Death and fate Now hold him. To thy hand I give the lash And shining reins, while I descend and fight." He spake, and into his swift chariot sprang Alcimedon, and took the lash and reins. Automedon leaped down. As Hector saw, He thus bespake Æneas at his side: - "Æneas, leader of the men of Troy, Equipped in brazen armor, I have seen Those coursers of the swift Æacides Driven through the battle by unwarlike hands, And 'tis my hope, if thou wilt give thine aid, To seize them. They who guide them will not dare To stand and face us when we make the charge." He spake; Anchises' valiant son complied, And, sheltered by their shields of tough ox-hide, Well dried and firm, and strong with plates of brass, The twain went forward. With them at their side Went Chromius and Aretus, nobly formed, In hope to lead away the high-necked steeds, Their guardians slain. Vain dreamers! they were doomed Not without bloody penance to return From that encounter with Automedon, Who prayed to Father Jove, and whose faint heart Was strengthened and made bold. And thus the chief Said to his faithful friend Alcimedon:- "Keep not the steeds thou guidest far from me, Alcimedon, but let them ever breathe Upon my shoulders. Hector, Priam's son, I think, will not give over this assault Before he either slays us, and ascends The car to which these steeds with flowing manes Are yoked, and puts to flight the phalanxes Of Argive warriors, or himself is slain." He spake, and called to both the Ajaxes And Menelaus: "Ye who lead the Greeks," He said, and named the chieftains, "give in charge The dead to your best warriors, to surround And guard the corpse, and drive away the foe; But hasten to avert the evil day From us who are alive. For even now Hector comes rushing through the deadly fight, And brings Æneas; these are the most brave Of all the Trojan army. On the knees Of the great gods the issue rests. I too Will cast the spear, and leave the rest to Jove." He spake, and lifting his huge spear he smote The round shield of Aretus. There the blade Stopped not, but, entering, pierced him through the belt. As, when a vigorous youth with a keen axe Strikes a wild bull behind the horns, and there Severs the sinews, forward leaps the beast And falls, - Aretus, springing forward thus, Fell headlong. In the Trojan's entrails still Quivered the spear, and life forsook his limbs. Then Hector aimed, to smite Automedon, His shining spear. The Greek beheld and stooped, And shunned the brazen weapon. Down it came, And plunged into the earth, and stood, its stem Still shaken with the blow, and spent its force. Now would the twain have turned, and hand to hand Fought with their swords, when suddenly came up The warriors Ajax, hastening, at the call Of their companion, through the crowd, and stayed The combat. Hector and Æneas then, And Chromius, of the godlike form, withdrew Through caution, leaving on the battle-field Aretus lying mangled. The fierce chief Automedon despoiled the dead, and spake Boastfully: "Somewhat lighter on my heart Lies now my grief for Menetiades, Though I have slain a man of meaner note." As thus he spake, he threw the bloody spoils Into his chariot, mounting to the seat, His feet and hands all crimson with the blood, As when a lion has devoured an ox. Then round Patroclus raged the strife again, Murderous and sad to see; for Pallas there Inflamed the strife, sent down from heaven by Jove, To rouse the courage of the Greeks, since such Was now his will. As when the god displays To men a purple rainbow in the skies, A sign of war or of a bitter storm, Which drives the laborer from his task, and makes The cattle droop, so, in a purple cloud Concealed, she went among the Greeks, and filled Their hearts with valor. Taking first the form Of Phœnix, and his clear, unwearied voice, She spake in stirring words to Atreus' son, The gallant Menelaus, standing near: "Shame and dishonor will it be to thee, O Menelaus, if, beneath the walls Of Troy, the hungry dogs should tear the corpse Of him who was in life the faithful friend Of great Achilles. Fight thou therefore on Bravely, and bid the other Greeks be brave." And Menelaus, great in war, rejoined: "O Phenix, aged father, who wert born In days long past, would but Minerva give The needed strength, and ward from me the stroke Of weapons, then would I stand by and guard Patroclus, for his death hath filled my heart With grief. But Hector's rage is like the rage Of fire; he ceases not to slay; for Jove Gives to his spear the glory of the day." He spake, and well was blue-eyed Pallas pleased That first to her of all the deities He prayed; and therefore did she nerve his chest And knees with strength, and put into his heart The daring of the fly, that, often driven From man, returns and bites, and finds how sweet Is human blood. Such resolute zeal she woke In his stern soul, as quickly he approached Patroclus, and sent forth his shining spear. Among the Trojans was Eëtion's son, Podes, the rich and brave, whom Hector held In highest honor, choosing him to be Companion of his feasts. Him in the waist The fair-haired Menelaus, as he fled, Smote, driving home the weapon. With a clash He fell to earth, and Menelaus drew The slain away among the Grecian ranks. Then came Apollo, putting on the form Of Phænops, son of Asius, whose abode Was in Abydos, and whom Hector most Esteemed of all his guests. The archer-god Drew near to Hector, and bespake him thus:- "Hector, what other Greek will fear thee now, Since thou dost shrink from Menelaus, deemed Effeminate in war? Behold, he drags Away a warrior from thy host; his hand Hath slain thy faithful friend, Eëtion's son, Brave Podes, fighting in the foremost ranks." He spake: a cloud of sorrow overspread The soul of Hector. Armed in glittering brass, He went among the warriors in the van. Then did the son of Saturn lift on high His fringed ægis, gleaming; with a cloud He covered Ida, sent his lightnings down, And thundered terribly, and made the mount Shake to its base, and gave the victory To Troy, and put to rout the Grecian host. Peneleus of Bœotia led the fight. A spear that lighted on the shoulder-tip, As he came forward, wounded him. The blade, Hurled by Polydamas in close assault, Entered and grazed the bone. Then Hector pierced The wrist of Leïtus, Alectryon's son, And made him leave the combat. As he fled He looked around in fear, nor hoped again To wield the spear against the men of Troy. As Hector followed Leïtus, he met The long spear of Idomeneus, which struck His corselet near the pap; the weapon broke Sheer at the socket, and the Trojans raised A shout, while Hector at Idomeneus Let fly his spear. It missed the chief, but smote Cœranus, who from pleasant Lyctus came, The friend and follower of Meriones. For on that day Idomeneus had come From his good ships on foot, and great had been The triumph of the Trojans at his fall, If Cœranus had not with his swift steeds Passed near and bid him mount. 'T was thus he came To save Idomeneus from death, and yield To the man-queller Hector his own life; The javelin entered underneath the ear, By the jaw-bone, where, forcing out the teeth, It cleft the tongue in twain. He fell to earth, And dropped the reins. Meriones stooped down And took them from the dust in his own hands, And thus bespake Idomeneus: “Ply well The lash, until thy coursers reach the fleet, For thou mayst clearly see that victory To-day is not upon the Grecian side." He spake: Idomeneus, fear-smitten, lashed The long-maned steeds that hurried toward the fleet. Nor now did Menelaus nor his friend, The valiant Ajax, fail to see that Jove Had changed the vantage to the side of Troy. And thus the son of Telamon began: - "Alas! the feeblest mind can now perceive That Father Jove is with the sons of Troy, And gives to them the glory of the day. Their weapons smite, whoever sends them forth, Coward or brave, for Jove directs them all; Ours fall to earth in vain. But let us now Consult how best to bear the corpse away, And how, returning, we may meet our friends With joy; for they are grieved as they behold Our plight, and fear that we may not withstand The fiery onset and invincible arm Of the man-queller Hector. Would there were Some comrade who would bear to Peleus' son The tidings of the day! for he, I think, Has not yet heard that his dear friend is slain. None such can I behold of all the Greeks, For they are shrouded all - their steeds and they - In darkness. Father Jove, deliver us From darkness; clear the heavens and give our eyes Again to see. Destroy us if thou wilt, But O destroy us in the light of day!" He spake: the All-Father saw him shedding tears, And pitied him, and bade the shadows flee, And swept away the cloud. The sun looked forth, And all the battle lay in light. Then thus To warlike Menelaus Ajax said: - “O Menelaus, foster-child of Jove, Look round and see if yet Antilochus, The large-souled son of Nestor, is alive, And bid him bear the tidings in all haste To the great son of Peleus, that the one Of all his friends whom most he loved is slain." He spake, and Menelaus, great in war, Complied, and hastened forth, as from a fold A lion stalks away, that long has kept In fear the hounds and herdsmen, who all night Have watched to drive him from their well-fed beeves, While, eager for his prey, he rushes oft Against them, but in vain, for many a spear Is hurled at him, and many a blazing brand, Which, fierce for ravin as he is, he dreads, Till sullenly at early morn he goes. So from Patroclus went unwillingly The valiant Menelaus, for he feared Lest, panic-struck, the Greeks should leave his corpse The enemy's prey. Thus earnestly he prayed The warriors Ajax and Meriones: "Ye warriors Ajax, leaders of the Greeks! And thou, Meriones! let each of you Bear well in mind how kindly was the mood Of poor Patroclus; gentle in his life Was he to all, and now is with the dead." The fair-haired Menelaus, speaking thus, Withdrew. He looked around him as he went, As looks an eagle, bird of sharpest sight - So men declare - of all the fowls of air, From which, though high in heaven, the nimble hare Beneath the thicket is not hid; he stoops, And takes the creature's life. Thy piercing eyes, O Menelaus, thus on every side Were turned, in eager scrutiny, to find Among the multitude of Greeks the son Of Nestor living. Him he soon descried Upon the battle's left, where manfully He cheered his fellows on. The fair-haired son Of Atreus came and stood by him, and said: "Stay, foster-child of Jove, Antilochus! And listen to the sorrowful news I bring Of what should ne'er have been. Thou must have well Perceived, I think, that some divinity Doth heap disaster on our host, and give The victory to the Trojans. He is dead, - Patroclus, - the most valiant of the Greeks, And great their sorrow is. Now hasten thou To the Greek galleys; let Achilles know The tidings; he may haply bring the corpse, Stripped as it is, unmangled to the fleet, For crested Hector has the arms he wore." He spake, and at his words Antilochus Was horror-struck; in grief too great for speech, Tears filled his eyes, and his clear voice was choked. Yet heeded he the mandate. Laying off His arms, he gave them to his blameless friend, Laodocus, who with his firm-paced steeds Came toward him. Thus prepared he ran; his feet Carried him swiftly from the battle-field To bear the evil news to Peleus' son. Yet Menelaus, foster-child of Jove, Thy spirit did not prompt thee to remain And aid thy hard-pressed comrades at the spot Whence thou didst send Antilochus, and where The Pyleans longed to keep him. Yet he sent The noble Thrasymedes to their aid, While he returned to where Patroclus lay, And stood beside the warriors there, and said: - "I sent to swift Achilles at the fleet A messenger, yet think he will not come. Though royal Hector's deed hath roused his rage, Unarmed he cannot meet the sons of Troy. Consult we then how we may best convey The body to the ships, and how ourselves Escape the doom of death by Trojan hands." The mighty Ajax, son of Telamon, Replied: “O Menelaus far-renowned, Well hast thou spoken. Lift thou now the corse, Thou and Meriones, and place yourselves Beneath it, and convey it from the field. We, following you, will combat with the sons Of Troy and noble Hector, - we who, named Alike and one in spirit, oft have borne The fury of the battle side by side." He ended, and the warriors in their arms Raised with main strength the body from the ground. The Trojans, as they saw it borne away, Shouted behind them, rushing on like hounds That spring upon a wounded forest-boar Before the hunter-youths now pressing close Upon his flank, to tear him, then again, Whene'er he turns upon them in his strength, Retreating in dismay, and put to flight Hither and thither. Thus, in hot pursuit And close array, the Trojans following strook With swords and two-edged spears; but when the twain Turned and stood firm to meet them, every cheek Grew pale, and not a single Trojan dared Draw near the Greeks to combat for the corse. Thus rapidly they bore away the dead Toward their good galleys from the battle-field. Onward with them the furious battle swept, As spreads a fire that, kindled suddenly, Seizes a city, and the dwellings sink In the consuming blaze, and a strong wind Roars through the flame. Such fearful din of steeds And warriors followed the retreating Greeks. As from a mountain summit strong-backed mules Drag over the rough ways a ponderous beam Or mast, till weary with the mighty strain And streaming sweat, so they with resolute toil Bore off the dead. Behind them as they went Their two defenders kept the foe aloof. As when a river-dike o'ergrown with trees Crosses a plain, and holds the violent course Of the swoln stream in check, and, driving back The waters, spreads them o'er the level fields, Nor can their fury force a passage through, - So did the warriors Ajax hold in check The Trojans; yet they followed close, and two More closely than the rest, - Æneas, son Of old Anchises, and the illustrious chief, Hector. As when a company of daws Or starlings, startled at a hawk's approach, The murderous enemy of the smaller birds, Take wing with piercing cries, so, driven before The might of Hector and Æneas, fled The Greeks with clamorous cries, and thought no more Of combat. In the trench and near it lay Many fair weapons, which the fugitive Greeks Had dropped in haste, and still the war went on.
BOOK XVIII. AS thus they fought with all the rage of fire, Antilochus, the nimble-footed, came With tidings to Achilles. Him he found Before his lofty galleys, deep in thought Of what he knew had happened. With a sigh The hero to his mighty spirit said: - "Ah me! why should the Grecians thus be driven In utter disarray across the plain? I tremble lest the gods should bring to pass What most I dread. My mother told me once That the most valiant of the Myrmidons, While yet I live, cut off by Trojan hands, Shall see the sun no more. It must be so: The brave son of Menœtius has been slain. Unhappy! "T was my bidding that, when once The enemy with his firebrands was repulsed, He should not think to combat gallantly With Hector, but should hasten to the fleet." As thus he mused, illustrious Nestor's son Drew near Achilles, and with eyes that shed Warm tears he gave his sorrowful message thus:- "Son of the warlike Peleus, woe is me! For bitter are the tidings thou must hear Of what should not have been. Patroclus lies A naked corpse, and over it the hosts Are fighting; crested Hector hath his arms." He spake, and a black cloud of sorrow came Over the chieftain. Grasping in both hands The ashes of the hearth, he showered them o'er His head, and soiled with them his noble face. They clung in dark lumps to his comely vest. Prone in the dust of earth, at his full length, And tearing his disordered hair, he lay. Then wailed aloud the maidens whom in war He and Patroclus captured. Forth they came, And, thronging round him, smote their breasts and swooned. Antilochus mourned also, and shed tears, Holding Achilles by the hand, for much His generous nature dreaded that the chief Might aim at his own throat the sword he wore. Loud were the hero's cries, and in the deep His gracious mother, where she sat beside Her aged father, heard them. She too raised A wail of sorrow. All the goddesses, Daughters of Nereus, dwelling in the depths Of ocean, gathered to her side. There came Glaucè, Thaleia, and Cymodocè, Nesæa, Speio, Halia with large eyes, And Thoa, and Cymothöè; nor stayed Actæa, Limnoreia, Melita, Amphithöè, læra, Agavè, Doto, and Proto, and Dynamene. There came Dexamenè, Amphinome, Pherusa, Callianira, Panopè, Doris, and Galateia, the renowned. With these Nemertes and Apseudes came, And Callianassa. Clymenè was there, Janeira and Janassa, and with them Mæra, and Amatheia with bright hair, And Orithya, and whoever else, Children of Nereus, bide within the deep. The concourse filled the glimmering cave; they beat Their bosoms, while the sorrowing Thetis spake:- "Hear, sister Nereids, that ye all may know The sharpness of my sorrows. Woe is me, Unhappy! Woe is me! in evil hour, The mother of a hero, - me who gave Birth to so noble and so brave a son, The first among the warriors, saw him grow Like a green sapling, reared him like a plant Within a fruitful field, and sent him forth With his beaked ships to Ilium and the war Against the Trojans. Never shall I see That son returning to his home, the halls Of Peleus. While he lives and sees the light Of day his lot is sorrow, nor can I Help him in aught, though at his side; and yet I go to look on my beloved son, And learn from him what grief, while he remains Aloof from war, o'ertakes him in his tent." She spake, and left the cavern. All the nymphs Went with her weeping. Round their way the waves Of ocean parted. When they reached the fields Of fertile Troas, up the shore they went In ordered files to where, a numerous fleet, Drawn from the water, round Achilles lay The swift ships of the Myrmidons. To him His goddess mother came, and with a cry Of grief embraced the head of her dear son, And, mourning o'er him, spake these winged words: - "Why weepest thou, my son? What sorrow now O'ercomes thy spirit? Speak, and hide it not. All thou didst pray for once, with lifted hands, Has been fulfilled by Jove; the sons of Greece, Driven to their galleys, and with thy good help Withdrawn from them, are routed and disgraced." The swift Achilles, sighing deeply, made This answer: “O my mother! true it is Olympian Jove hath done all this for me; But how can that delight me, since my friend, My well-beloved Patroclus, is no more? He whom, of all my fellows in the war, I prized the most, and loved as my own self, Is lost to me, and Hector, by whose hand He was cut off, has spoiled him of his arms, — His dreaded arms, a wonder to the sight And glorious, which the gods of heaven bestowed On Peleus, sumptuous bridal gifts, when thou Wert led by them to share a mortal's bed. Yet would that thou hadst evermore remained Among the immortal dwellers of the deep, And Peleus had espoused a mortal maid, Since now thy heart must ache with infinite grief For thy slain son, whom thou shalt never more Welcome returning to his home. No wish Have I to live or to concern myself In men's affairs, save this: that Hector first, Pierced by my spear, shall yield his life, and pay The debt of vengeance for Patroclus slain." And Thetis, weeping, answered: "O my son! Soon must thou die; thou sayest true; that fate Hangs over thee as soon as Hector dies." Again the swift Achilles, sighing, spake: "Then quickly let me die, since fate denied That I should aid my friend against the foes That slew him. Far from his own land he fell, And longed for me to rescue him. And now, Since I am never more to see the land I love, and since I went not to defend Patroclus, nor the other Greeks, my friends, Of whom so many have fallen by the hand Of noble Hector, but beside the fleet Am sitting here, a useless weight on earth, Mighty in battle as I am beyond The other Grecian warriors, though excelled By other men in council, - would that Strife Might perish among gods and men, with Wrath, Which makes even wise men cruel, and, though sweet At first as dropping honey, growing, fills The heart with its foul smoke. Such was my rage, Aroused by Agamemnon, king of men. Yet now, though great my wrong, let things like these Rest with the past, and, as the time requires, Let us subdue the spirit in our breasts. I go in quest of Hector, by whose hand My friend was slain. My death will I accept When'er to Jove and to the other gods It shall seem good to send it. Hercules, Though mighty and beloved of Jupiter, The son of Saturn, could not shun his death, For fate and Juno's cruel wrath prevailed Against him. I shall lie in death like him, If a like fate be measured out for me. Yet now shall I have glory; I shall do What many a Trojan and Dardanian dame, Deep-bosomed, wiping with both hands the tears From their fair cheeks, shall bitterly lament; And well shall they perceive that, till this hour, I paused from war. Thou lov'st me; but seek not To keep me from the field, for that were vain." The silver-footed Thetis thus rejoined: "Truly, my son, thy purpose is not ill, To rescue thy endangered friends from death. But with the Trojans are thy beautiful arms, Brazen and dazzling bright; their crested chief, Hector, exults to wear them: no long space, I think, will he exult; his death is near. Yet go not to the battle-field until Thine eyes shall look upon me yet again. I come to-morrow with the sun, and bring Bright arms, the work of Vulcan's royal hand." So having said, and turning from her son, She thus bespake her sisters of the sea: "Return to the broad bosom of the deep, To its gray Ancient and my father's halls, And tell him all. I hasten to ascend The summits of Olympus, there to ask Of Vulcan, the renowned artificer, Armor of glorious beauty for my son." She spake: at once they plunged into the deep, While Thetis, silver-footed goddess, sought Olympus, whence it was her hope to bring New armor for her son. As thus her feet Bore her toward heaven, the Achaians, fleeing fast, With infinite clamor, driven before the arm Of the man-queller Hector, reached the ships And Hellespont. Nor could the well-armed Greeks Bear off Patroclus from the shower of darts; For rushing on them came both foot and horse, And Hector, son of Priam, like a flame In fury. Thrice illustrious Hector seized The body by the heels to drag it off, And called his Trojans with a mighty shout. Thrice did the chieftains Ajax, terrible In resolute valor, drive him from the dead. Yet kept he to his purpose, confident In his own might, now charging through the crowd, Now standing firm and shouting to his men, And never losing ground. As when, at night, Herdsmen that watch their cattle strive in vain To drive a lion, fierce and famine-pinched, From some slain beast, so the two Ajaxes, With all their valor, vainly strove to keep Hector, the son of Priam, from the corpse. And now would he have dragged it thence, and won Infinite glory, had not Iris come- The goddess whose swift feet are like the wind- To Peleus' son, a messenger from heaven, In haste, unknown to Jupiter and all The other gods, - for Juno sent her down, - To bid the hero arm. She came and stood Beside him, speaking thus with wingèd words: "Pelides, rise, most terrible of men, In rescue of Patroclus, over whom They struggle fiercely at the fleet; for there They slay each other, - these who fight to keep The dead, and those, the men of Troy, who charge To drag him off to Ilium's airy heights; And chief, illustrious Hector longs to seize The corpse, and from the delicate neck to hew The head, and fix it on a stake. Arise, Loiter no longer; - rise, ashamed to leave Patroclus to be torn by Trojan dogs. For thine will be the infamy, if yet The corpse be brought dishonored to thy tent." The swift Achilles listened and inquired: "Which of the gods, O Iris, speaks by thee?" And Iris, whose swift feet are like the wind, Answered: "The glorious spouse of Jupiter, Juno, hath sent me. Even Saturn's son, On his high throne, knows not that I am sent, Nor any other of the gods who dwell Upon Olympus overspread with snow." "But how," the swift Achilles asked again, "Shall I go forth to war? They have my arms, And my beloved mother strictly bade That I should put no armor on until I saw her face again. She promised me A suit of glorious mail from Vulcan's hand. Nor know I any warrior here whose arms Might serve me, save, perhaps, it were the shield Of Telamonian Ajax, who, I hope, Is in the van, and dealing death among The foe, in vengeance for Patroclus slain." Then the swift-footed Iris spake again: "They have thy glorious armor; that we know. But go thou to the trench, and show thyself To them of Troy, that, haply smit with fear, They may desist from battle, and the host Of Grecian warriors, overtoiled, may breathe In a brief respite from the stress of war." So the fleet Iris spake, and passed away, And then arose Achilles, dear to Jove, While o'er his ample shoulders Pallas held Her fringed ægis. The great goddess caused A golden cloud to gather round his head And kindled in the cloud a dazzling flame. And as when smoke, ascending to the sky, Hangs o'er some city in a distant isle, Which enemies beleaguer, swarming forth From their own city, and in hateful strife Contend all day, but when the sun goes down Forthwith blaze many bale-fires, sending up A brightness which the neighboring realms may see, That haply they may send their ships and drive The war away, - so from the hero's head That flame streamed upward to the sky. He came Without the wall and stood beside the trench, Nor mingled with the Greeks, for he revered His mother's words. He stood and called aloud, And Pallas, from the host, returned his shout, - A shout that carried infinite dismay Into the Trojan squadrons. As the sound Of trumpet rises clear when deadly foes Lay siege to a walled city, such was heard The clear shout uttered by Æacides. The hearts of all who heard that brazen voice Were troubled, and their steeds with flowing manes Turned backward with the chariots, - such the dread Of coming slaughter. When the charioteers Beheld the terrible flame that played unquenched Upon the brow of the magnanimous son Of Peleus, lighted by the blue-eyed maid Minerva, they were struck with panic fear. Thrice o'er the trench Achilles shouted; thrice The men of Troy and their renowned allies Fell into wild disorder. Then there died, Entangled midst their chariots, and transfixed By their own spears, twelve of their bravest chiefs. The Greeks bore off Patroclus from the field With eager haste, and placed him on a bier, And there the friends that loved him gathered round Lamenting. With them swift Achilles came, The hot tears on his cheeks, as he beheld His faithful comrade lying on his bier, Mangled with many wounds, whom he had sent With steeds and car to battle, never more To welcome him alive on his return. Now Juno, large-eyed and august, bade set The never-wearied sun; unwillingly He sank into the ocean streams. Then paused The noble Greeks from that ferocious strife, Deadly in equal measure to both hosts. The Trojans also paused, and from their cars Unharnessed the fleet steeds, and ere they took Their evening meal assembled to consult. Standing they held the council; no man cared To sit, for all were trembling from the hour When, long a stranger to the bloody field, Achilles showed himself again. And now The son of Panthoüs, wise Polydamas, Began to speak. Beyond the rest he saw Things past and things to come, and he had been Hector's companion, born in the same night, Mighty in speech as Hector with the spear. With prudent admonitions thus he spake : - "Consider well, my friends. My counsel is That we return, nor wait the holy morn Here, by the fleet and in the open plain, Far from our city ramparts. While this man Was wroth with Agamemnon, we maintained A strife of far less peril with the Greeks, And I was ever ready to encamp By night beside the galleys, which we hoped To make our prize; but now I fear the might Of swift Pelides. He will not remain Content upon the space between the fleet And town, where Greeks and Trojans wage a war Of changeful fortune, but will strive to take The city, and to carry off our wives. March we then homeward. Let my words prevail, - It must be so. The gentle Night now keeps The nimble-footed hero from the war. But if to-morrow, issuing forth in arms, He find us here, there are among us those Who will have cause to know him. Gladly then Will he find refuge who escapes his arm In sacred Troy, and many a Trojan corpse Will feed the dogs and vultures. May mine ear Hear of it never. But if ye will heed My words, though sorrowful, ye shall be safe Assembled in the city squares at night. The lofty towers and gates, with massive beams Polished and strongly fitted each to each, Will keep the town. To-morrow we shall take, At dawn, our station on the towers, arrayed In armor, and his difficult task will be, Far from his ships, to fight us from below; And after he has tired his high-necked steeds With coursing round the ramparts to and fro, Back to his galleys he must go; nor yet With all his valor can he force his way Into the town to lay its dwellings waste, - The dogs will feed upon his carcass first." And crested Hector answered with a frown: "The counsel thou hast given, Polydamas, Pleases me not, - that we return to be Pent up in Troy. Are ye not weary yet Of lying long imprisoned within walls And towers? The time has been that in all lands, Wherever human speech is heard, the fame Of Priam's city, for its treasured gold And brass, was in all mouths. Those treasures now Have passed away; our dwellings have them not. Much that we had was sold on Phrygia's coast, And in Mæonia's pleasant land, for Jove The mighty was displeased with us. But now, When politic Saturn's son hath granted me To win great glory at the fleet, and hold The Greeks imprisoned by the sea, refrain, Idler, from laying counsels such as these Before the people. Not a Trojan here Will follow them, nor would I suffer it. Now hearken all, and act as I advise: First banquet, rank by rank, throughout the host, And set your guards, and each of you keep watch; And then, if any Trojan stands in fear For his possessions, let him bring them all Into the common stock, to be consumed; Better that we enjoy them than the Greeks. To-morrow, with the dawn and all in arms, We will do battle at the roomy ships Valiantly. If in truth the noble son Of Peleus choose to rise and to defend The ships, so much the worse for him, since I Shall not for him desert the field, but stand Firmly against him, whether he obtain The victory or I. The chance of war Is equal, and the slayer oft is slain." So Hector spake: the Trojans shouted forth Applause, the madmen! Pallas took away Their reason; all approved the fatal plan Of Hector; no one ventured to commend The sober counsel of Polydamas. And then they banqueted throughout the host; But all night long the Achaians mourned with tears Patroclus, while Pelides in the midst, Leading the ceaseless lamentation, placed His slaughter-dealing hands upon the breast Of his companion with continual sighs. As a maned lion, from whose haunt within The thick, dark wood a hunter has borne off The whelps, returning finds them gone, and grieves, And roams the valleys, tracking as he goes The robber, bent to find him, for his rage Is fierce, - with such fierce sorrow Peleus' son Spake, deeply sighing, to his Myrmidons : - "O, idle were the words which once I spake, When in our palace-halls I bade the chief Menœtius bear a cheerful heart. I said That I would bring to Opus yet again, Laden with spoil from Ilium overthrown, His valiant son. But Jove doth not fulfil The plans of men. That both of us should stain Earth with our blood in Troy was the decree Of fate, and never will the aged knight Peleus receive me in his palace-halls, Returning from the war, nor Thetis, she Who gave me birth; the earth will hold me here. And now, since after thee I take my place In earth, Patroclus, I will not perform Thy funeral rites before I bring to thee The arms and head of the magnanimous chief Hector, who slew thee. By thy funeral pile I will strike off in vengeance for thy death The heads of twelve illustrious Trojan youths. Thou meanwhile, lying at the beaked ships, Shalt be lamented night and day, with tears, By many a Trojan and Dardanian maid, Deep-bosomed, won by our victorious spears After hard wars and opulent cities sacked." Thus having said, the great Achilles bade Place a huge tripod on the fire in haste, To cleanse Patroclus from the clotted blood. They brought and set upon the glowing hearth A tripod for the bath, and in it poured Water, and piled the wood beneath. The flame Crept up the vessel's rounded sides and warmed The water. When within the murmuring brass It boiled, they washed the dead, and with rich oil Anointed him, and filled the open wounds With ointment nine years old; and laying him Upon a couch, they spread from head to foot Fine linen over him, and covered all With a white mantle. Through the hours of night The Myrmidons, lamenting their dead chief, Wept round the swift Achilles. Then did Jove Thus to his wife and sister Juno speak :- "Large-eyed, imperial Juno, thou hast now Accomplished thy desire, for thou hast roused The swift Achilles. There is not a doubt The long-haired Argives owe their birth to thee." And large-eyed Juno answered: "What strange words, Austere Saturnius, hast thou said? A man, A mortal far less skilled in shaping means To compass ends, might do what I have done Against his fellow-man. Then should not I— Who boast to be the chief of goddesses By birthright, and because I bear the name Of wife to thee who rulest o'er the gods - Plan evil to the Trojans, whom I hate?" So talked they. Silver-footed Thetis came Meanwhile to Vulcan's halls, eternal, gemmed With stars, a wonder to the immortals, wrought Of brass by the lame god. She found him there Sweating and toiling, and with busy hand Plying the bellows. He was fashioning Tripods, a score, to stand beside the wall Of his fair palace. All of these he placed On wheels of gold, that, of their own accord, They might roll in among the assembled gods, And then roll back, a marvel to behold. So far they all were finished; but not yet Were added the neat handles, and for these The god was forging rivets busily. While thus he labored, with a mind intent Upon his skilful task, on silver feet Came Thetis. Charis, of the snowy veil, The beautiful, whom the great god of fire, Vulcan, had made his wife, beheld, and came Forward to meet her, seized her hand, and said: - "O Thetis of the flowing robe, beloved And honored, what has brought thee to our home? Thou dost not often visit us. Come in, That I may pay the honors due a guest." So the bright goddess spake, and led the way, And seated Thetis on a sumptuous throne, With silver studs divinely wrought, and placed A footstool, and called out to Vulcan thus: "Come, Vulcan; Thetis here hath need of thee." And the great artist, Vulcan, thus replied: "Then of a truth a goddess is within Whom I must ever honor and revere; Who from the danger of my terrible fall Saved me, what time my shameless mother sought To cast me from her sight, for I was lame. Then great had been my misery, had not Eurynomè and Thetis in their laps Received me as I fell, - Eurynomè, Daughter of billowy Ocean. There I dwelt Nine years, and many ornaments I wrought Of brass, - clasps, buckles, bracelets, necklaces, - Within a vaulted cave, round which the tides Of the vast ocean murmured and flung up Their foam; nor any of the gods or men Knew of my hiding-place, save only they Who saved me, Thetis and Eurynomè. And now, as she is with us, I must make, To fair-haired Thetis some thank-offering For having rescued me. Haste, spread the board Amply with generous fare, while I shall lay Aside my bellows and my implements." He spake, and from his anvil-block arose, A mighty bulk; his weak legs under him, Halting, moved painfully. He laid apart His bellows from the fire, and gathered up The scattered implements with which he wrought, And locked them in a silver chest, and wiped With a moist sponge his face and both his hands, Stout neck and hairy chest. He then put on His tunic, took his massive regal wand Into his hand, and, tottering, sallied forth. Two golden statues, like in form and look To living maidens, aided with firm gait The monarch's steps. And mind was in their breasts, And they had speech and strength, and from the gods Had learned becoming arts. Beside their lord They walked and tended him. As he drew near, Halting, to Thetis on the shining throne, He took the goddess by the hand and said: — "What cause, O Thetis of the flowing robe, Honored and dear, has brought thee to our home? Not often com'st thou hither. Freely say Whatever lies upon thy mind. My heart Commands me to obey, if it be aught That can be done and may be done by me." And Thetis answered, with a gush of tears: "O Vulcan! of the goddesses who dwell Upon Olympus, is there one who bears Such bitter sorrows as Saturnian Jove Inflicts on me, distressed above them all? Me, of the ocean deities, he forced To take a mortal husband, - Peleus, son Of Eacus, - and to his bed I came Unwillingly. Within his palace halls, Worn with a late old age, my husband lies. Now I have other woes; for when a son Was granted me, and I had brought him forth And reared him, flourishing like a young plant, A sapling in a fertile field, and great Among the heroes, - thus maturely trained, I sent him with his beaked ships to Troy, To combat with her sons; but never more Will it be mine to welcome him returned Home to the halls of Peleus. While to me He lives, and sees the sunshine, he endures Affliction, nor can I, though at his side, Aid him in aught. The maiden whom the Greeks Decreed him as his prize, the king of men, Atrides, took away, and grief for her Consumes his heart. The Trojans keep the Greeks Beleaguered by their ships, nor suffer them To pass beyond their gates. The elder chiefs Implored him to relent, and offered him Large presents; he refused to avert the doom That threatened them himself, but sent instead Patroclus to the war with his own arms, And with him sent much people. All the day They fought before the Scæan gates; and then Had Ilium fallen, but that Apollo slew The brave son of Menœtius, who had caused Vast slaughter, - slew him fighting in the van Of war, and gave the glory of his death To Hector. Therefore I approach thy knees, And ask for him, my son, so soon to die, Buckler and helm, and beautiful greaves, shut close With clasps, and all the other arms complete, Which in the war my son's companion lost. For now Achilles lies upon the ground Bitterly grieving in his inmost soul." And Vulcan, the great artist, answered her: "Be comforted, and take no further thought Of this; for would I could as certainly Shield him from death's dread summons when his hour Is come at last, as I shall have for him Beautiful armor ready to put on, And such as every man, of multitudes Who look on it hereafter, shall admire." So speaking he withdrew, and went where lay The bellows, turned them toward the fire, and bade The work begin. From twenty bellows came Their breath into the furnaces, - a blast Varied in strength as need might be; for now They blew with violence for a hasty task, And then with gentler breath, as Vulcan pleased And as the work required. Upon the fire He laid impenetrable brass, and tin, And precious gold and silver; on its block Placed the huge anvil, took the ponderous sledge, And held the pincers in the other hand. And first he forged the huge and massive shield, Divinely wrought in every part, - its edge Clasped with a triple border, white and bright. A silver belt hung from it, and its folds Were five; a crowd of figures on its disk Were fashioned by the artist's passing skill, For here he placed the earth and heaven, and here The great deep and the never-resting sun And the full moon, and here he set the stars That shine in the round heaven, - the Pleiades, The Hyades, Orion in his strength, And the Bear near him, called by some the Wain, That, wheeling, keeps Orion still in sight, Yet bathes not in the waters of the sea. There placed he two fair cities full of men. In one were marriages and feasts; they led The brides with flaming torches from their bowers, Along the streets, with many a nuptial song. There the young dancers whirled, and flutes and lyres Gave forth their sounds, and women at the doors Stood and admired. Meanwhile a multitude Was in the forum, where a strife went on, - Two men contending for a fine, the price Of one who had been slain. Before the crowd One claimed that he had paid the fine, and one Denied that aught had been received, and both Called for the sentence which should end the strife. The people clamored for both sides, for both Had eager friends; the heralds held the crowd In check; the elders, upon polished stones, Sat in a sacred circle. Each one took, In turn, a herald's sceptre in his hand, And, rising, gave his sentence. In the midst Two talents lay in gold, to be the meed Of him whose juster judgment should prevail. Around the other city sat two hosts In shining armor, bent to lay it waste, Unless the dwellers would divide their wealth, - All that their pleasant homes contained, - and yield The assailants half. As yet the citizens Had not complied, but secretly had planned An ambush. Their beloved wives meanwhile, And their young children, stood and watched the walls, With aged men among them, while the youths Marched on, with Mars and Pallas at their head, Both wrought in gold, with golden garments on, Stately and large in form, and over all Conspicuous, in bright armor, as became The gods; the rest were of an humbler size. And when they reached the spot where they should lie In ambush, by a river's side, a place For watering herds, they sat them down, all armed In shining brass. Apart from all the rest They placed two sentries, on the watch to spy The approach of sheep and horned kine. Soon came The herds in sight; two shepherds walked with them, Who, all unweeting of the evil nigh, Solaced their task with music from their reeds. The warriors saw and rushed on them, and took And drave away large prey of beeves, and flocks Of fair white sheep, whose keepers they had slain. When the besiegers in their council heard The sound of tumult at the watering-place, They sprang upon their nimble-footed steeds, And overtook the pillagers. Both bands Arrayed their ranks and fought beside the stream, And smote each other. There did Discord rage, And Tumult, and the great Destroyer, Fate. One wounded warrior she had seized alive, And one unwounded yet, and through the field Dragged by the foot another, dead. Her robe Was reddened o'er the shoulders with the blood From human veins. Like living men they ranged The battle-field, and dragged by turns the slain. There too he sculptured a broad fallow field Of soft rich mould, thrice ploughed, and over which Walked many a ploughman, guiding to and fro His steers, and when on their return they reached The border of the field the master came To meet them, placing in the hands of each A goblet of rich wine. Then turned they back Along the furrows, diligent to reach Their distant end. All dark behind the plough The ridges lay, a marvel to the sight, Like real furrows, though engraved in gold. There, too, the artist placed a field which lay Deep in ripe wheat. With sickles in their hands The laborers reaped it. Here the handfuls fell Upon the ground; there binders tied them fast With bands, and made them sheaves. Three binders went Close to the reapers, and behind them boys, Bringing the gathered handfuls in their arms, Ministered to the binders. Staff in hand, The master stood among them by the side Of the ranged sheaves and silently rejoiced. Meanwhile the servants underneath an oak Prepared a feast apart; they sacrificed A fatling ox and dressed it, while the maids Were kneading for the reapers the white meal. A vineyard also on the shield he graved, Beautiful, all of gold, and heavily Laden with grapes. Black were the clusters all; The vines were stayed on rows of silver stakes. He drew a blue trench round it, and a hedge Of tin. One only path there was by which The vintagers could go to gather grapes. Young maids and striplings of a tender age Bore the sweet fruit in baskets. Midst them all, A youth from his shrill harp drew pleasant sounds, And sang with soft voice to the murmuring strings. They danced around him, beating with quick feet The ground, and sang and shouted joyously. And there the artist wrought a herd of beeves, High-horned, and sculptured all in gold and tin. They issued lowing from their stalls to seek Their pasture, by a murmuring stream, that ran Rapidly through its reeds. Four herdsmen, graved In gold, were with the beeves, and nine fleet dogs Followed. Two lions, seizing on a bull Among the foremost cattle, dragged him off Fearfully bellowing; hounds and herdsmen rushed To rescue him. The lions tore their prey, And lapped the entrails and the crimson blood. Vainly the shepherds pressed around and urged Their dogs, that shrank from fastening with their teeth Upon the lions, but stood near and bayed. There also did illustrious Vulcan grave A fair, broad pasture, in a pleasant glade, Full of white sheep, and stalls, and cottages, And many a shepherd's fold with sheltering roof. And there illustrious Vulcan also wrought A dance, -a maze like that which Dædalus, In the broad realm of Gnossus once contrived For fair-haired Ariadne. Blooming youths And lovely virgins, tripping to light airs, Held fast each other's wrists. The maidens wore Fine linen robes; the youths had tunics on Lustrous as oil, and woven daintily. The maids wore wreaths of flowers; the young men swords Of gold in silver belts. They bounded now In a swift circle, -as a potter whirls With both his hands a wheel to try its speed, Sitting before it, - then again they crossed Each other, darting to their former place. A multitude around that joyous dance Gathered, and were amused, while from the crowd Two tumblers raised their song, and flung themselves About among the band that trod the dance. Last on the border of that glorious shield He graved in all its strength the ocean-stream. And when that huge and massive shield was done, He forged a corselet brighter than the blaze Of fire; he forged a solid helm to fit The hero's temples, shapely and enchased With rare designs, and with a crest of gold. And last he forged him greaves of ductile tin. When the great artist Vulcan saw his task Complete, he lifted all that armor up And laid it at the feet of her who bore Achilles. Like a falcon in her flight, Down plunging from Olympus capped with snow, She bore the shining armor Vulcan gave.
BOOK XIX. IN saffron-colored mantle from the tides Of Ocean rose the Morning to bring light To gods and men, when Thetis reached the fleet, Bringing the gift of Vulcan. There she found Her son, who, bending o'er Patroclus, wept Aloud, and all around a troop of friends Lamented bitterly. Beside him stood The glorious goddess, took his hand, and said:- "Leave we the dead, my son, since it hath pleased The gods that he should fall; and now receive This sumptuous armor, forged by Vulcan's hand, Beautiful, such as no man ever wore." The goddess spake, and laid the armor down Before Achilles; as they touched the earth, The well-wrought pieces clanked, and terror seized The Myrmidons. No one among them all Dared fix his gaze upon them; all shrank back. Achilles only, as he saw them, felt His spirit roused within him. In his eyes A terrible brightness flashed, as if of fire. He lifted up the god's magnificent gift Rejoicing, and, when long his eyes had dwelt Delighted on the marvellous workmanship, Thus to his mother said, in wingèd words: - "A god indeed, my mother, must have given These arms, the work of heavenly hands: no man Could forge them. Now I arm myself for war. But for the valiant Menœtiades I greatly fear that flies will gather round The wounds inflicted by the spear, and worms Be bred within them, to pollute the corpse Now that the life is gone, and taint the whole." And silver-footed Thetis answered thus: "Son, have no care for that. The task be mine To drive away the importunate swarm that feed On heroes slain in battle. Though it lie The whole year long, the body shall remain Even more than uncorrupted. Call thou now To council all the Achaian chiefs; renounce Thy feud with Agamemnon, king of men, And arm for war, and put on all thy might." She spake, and called a fiery courage up Within the hero's breast. The goddess then Infused ambrosia and the ruddy juice Of nectar through the nostrils of the dead Into the frame, to keep it from decay. Along the beach the great Achilles went, Calling with mighty shouts the Grecian chiefs. Then even they who till that day remained Beside the fleet, - the pilots and the men Who held the helm, the stewards of the ships, And the purveyors, - all made haste to swell The assembly, for they knew that he who long Had borne no part in the disastrous war Had now come forth. Two ministers of Mars, The brave Tydides and the nobly born Ulysses, both supported by their spears, Came halting, for their wounds were painful yet; They came and sat among the foremost chiefs. And last came Agamemnon, king of men, Wounded, for he had felt in thick of fight The edge of the sharp spear which Coön bore, Antenor's son. Now when the Greeks were all Assembled, swift Achilles rose and said: - "Atrides, of a truth it would have been Better for both of us had we done this At first, though sorely angered, when we strove For a girl's sake so fiercely. Would that she Had perished in my ships, by Dian's shaft, The day on which I laid Lyrnessus waste! So many Greeks would then have not been forced, Slain by the enemy's hand, to bite the dust Of the great earth, while I was brooding o'er My wrath. All that was for the good of Troy And Hector; but the Greeks, I think, will long Remember our contention. Let us leave These things among the things that were, and, though They make us grieve, let us subdue our minds To what the time requires. Here then my wrath Shall end; it is not meet that it should burn Forever. Hasten thou and rouse to war The long-haired Greeks, that I may yet again Go forth among the men of Troy, and learn If they design to encamp another night Before the fleet. There is among them all No man, I ween, who will not joyfully Sit down when he escapes my deadly spear." He ended, and the Achaians all rejoiced To hear the brave Pelides thus renounce 'His anger. Agamemnon, king of men, Then rose. He came not forth into the midst, But stood beside his seat, and thus he spake: - "O friends, Achaian heroes, ministers Of Mars! Whoever rises up to speak 'T is well to hear him through, and not break in Upon his speech, else is the most expert Confounded. Who amid a clamorous throng Can listen or can speak? The orator Of clearest voice must utter it in vain. Now I address Pelides; for the rest, Hearken ye all, and ponder what I say. The Greeks speak often of this feud, and cast The blame on me. Yet was I not the cause, But Jupiter and Fate, and she who walks In darkness, dread Erynnis. It was they Who filled my mind with fury in the hour When from Achilles I bore off his prize. What could I do? A deity prevails In all things, Atè, mighty to destroy, Daughter of Jove, and held in awe by all. Delicate are her feet; she never comes Near to the ground, but glides above the heads Of men, to do them harm, and in her net Entangles one at least of two who strive. Jove, deemed the mightiest among men and gods, Once felt her power of mischief. Him his spouse, Juno, entrapped by cunning, when within The massive walls of Thebes Alcmena lay In childbed, and the mighty Hercules Was near his birth. For Jupiter had said Boastfully to the immortals: 'Hear, ye gods And goddesses, what I am moved to speak : This day shall Ilithyia, who presides At births, bring into light a prince whose rule The neighboring tribes shall own; he shall be one Who bears the blood of my illustrious race.' "Imperial Juno thus, with words of guile, Made answer: 'What thou sayest will prove false, Nor wilt thou keep thy word. Now swear to me, Olympius, with the irrevocable oath, That whosoever of thy race shall fall This day between a woman's feet shall bear The rule o'er all the neighboring tribes.' She spake, And Jove, perceiving not her craft, complied, And took the mighty oath, but afterward Found himself wronged. For Juno, darting forth, Shot from the Olympian summit, and at once Alighted at Achaian Argos. There She found the noble wife of Sthenelus, The son of Perseus, pregnant with a son, In the seventh month. She caused him to be born, The number of his months yet incomplete, And kept Alcmena's hour of childbirth back, And stayed her pangs. The goddess then made haste To bear the tidings to Saturnian Jove. ""O Father Jupiter, by whom are hurled The ruddy lightnings, I have news for thee. A man-child of a generous stock is born, - Eurystheus, whom the Argives shall obey, - Born at this hour to Sthenelus, the son Of Perseus, who is thine. And well it is That such a prince should rule the Argive race.' "She ended: Jupiter was deeply grieved, And, seizing Ate by her shining locks, In his great wrath, he swore a mighty oath, That Atè, whose delight it is to bring Mischief to all, should never tread again Olympus and the starry floor of heaven. Thus having sworn, he swung her, with raised arm, On high, and hurled her from the starry heaven Downward, where soon she reached the haunts of men; Yet oft in after time because of her He sighed, beholding his beloved son Doomed by Eurystheus to unworthy tasks. So I, while crested Hector in his might Made havoc at our fleet among the Greeks Even by their prows, remembered well my fault. And now since I have borne the penalty, And Jupiter it was who took away My reason, I would gladly make amends With liberal gifts. But rise and join the war; Inflame the courage of the rest; the gifts Will I supply, - all that were promised thee When nobly-born Ulysses yesterday Went to thy tents. Or, if it please thee, wait, Though armed for battle, and my train shall bring The treasures from my ship, that thou mayst see My presents are peace-offerings indeed." The swift of foot, Achilles, answered thus: "Most glorious son of Atreus, king of men! Whether, O Agamemnon, thou wilt give Gifts, as is meet, or keep them, rests with thee. Now let us think of war; it is not well To waste the hour in talking, and put off The mighty work that we have yet to do. Let every Greek among you, as he sees Achilles fighting in the foremost ranks, And slaughtering the Trojan phalanxes, Take heart and boldly combat with his man." And then Ulysses, wise in council, spake, Answering Achilles: "Nay, thou shouldst not thus, Brave as thou art, lead on the sons of Greece, Yet fasting, to the conflict with the men Of Troy beside their city. No brief space The struggle will endure when once the foes Rush on each other, and a god inspires Both hosts with fury. Bid the Achaians take In their swift galleys food and wine; in these Are force and vigor. No man can endure To combat all the day till set of sun, Save with the aid of food, however great The promptings of his valor; for his limbs Grow heavy, thirst and hunger weaken him, And his knees fail him as he walks. Not so The warrior well supplied with food and wine: He fights the foe all day; a resolute heart Is in his bosom; nor does weariness O'ertake him till all others leave the field. Now let the people be dismissed awhile, And a repast be ordered. Let the king, Atrides, bring into the assembly here His gifts, that all the Greeks may look on them, And thou rejoice to see them. Let him rise Among the Greeks, and take a solemn oath That he has ne'er approached the maiden's bed To claim a husband's right. Thus let thy heart Be satisfied. Yet let the monarch spread A sumptuous banquet in his tent for thee, That thy redress may be complete. And thou, Atrides, wilt hereafter be more just To others. It dishonors not a king To make amends to one whom he has wronged.” And then King Agamemnon spake in turn: "Son of Laertes, gladly have I heard What thou hast said, and well hast thou discoursed Of all things in their order. I will take The oath of which thou speakest, - so my heart Commands me. In the presence of a god I take it, and commit no perjury. Now let Achilles, though he longs for war, Delay awhile; and all assembled here, Remain ye on the ground till from my ship The gifts are brought. This charge and this command I give to thee, Ulysses. Take with thee A band of youths, the noblest of the host, And bring the presents promised yesterday To Peleus' son, and hither let them lead The women. Meantime let Talthybius haste To bring from our broad camp a boar, which I Will offer up to Jove and to the Sun." The swift of foot, Achilles, thus replied: "Most glorious son of Atreus, king of men, These things are for the time when there shall come A pause from battle, and this warlike heat Within my breast shall cool. They whom the spear Of Hector, son of Priam, has o'ercome Lie mangled on the earth, since Jupiter Awarded him the glory of the day: - And ye propose a banquet. I would call The sons of Greece to rush into the war Unfed and fasting, and when this disgrace Shall be avenged, I would, at sunset, spread A liberal feast. Be sure that I, till then, Taste neither food nor drink, while my slain friend Lies gashed with weapons in my tent, amidst His sorrowing comrades. Little I regard The things of which thou speakest, for my thoughts Are all of bloodshed and of dying groans." Ulysses, the sagacious, thus rejoined: "Achilles, son of Peleus, bravest far Of all the Achaians, mightier with the spear By no small odds than I, yet do I stand In prudence much above thee; I have lived More years, and more have learned. Let then thy mind Accept what I shall say. Men soon become Weary of warfare, even when the sword Lays its most ample harvest on the earth. But fewer sheaves are reaped when Jupiter, The arbiter of battles, turns the scale. It is not well that we of Greece should mourn The dead with fasting, since from day to day Our warriors fall in numbers. Where were then Respite from daily fasts? Lay we our slain In earth and mourn a day. We who outlive The cruel combat should refresh ourselves With food and wine, that we may steadily Maintain in arms the conflict with the foe. And then let no man idly wait to hear A further call to war, - for it will come Freighted with evil to the man who skulks Among the ships, — but let us all go forth To wage fierce battle with the knights of Troy." He spake, and summoned to his side the sons Of glorious Nestor, and Meriones, And Meges, son of Phyleus, and with them Thoas, and Lycomedes, Creon's son, And Melanippus. Straight they took their way To Agamemnon's tent, and there their task Was done as quickly as the word was given. They brought seven tripods forth, the promised gifts, And twenty burnished caldrons, and twelve steeds, And led away seven graceful women trained In household arts, - the maid with rosy cheeks, Briseis, was the eighth. Ulysses came, Leading the way, and bearing, duly weighed, Ten talents, all of gold. The Achaian youths Followed, and placed the presents in the midst Of that assembly. Agamemnon rose; And then Talthybius, who was like a god In power of voice, came near and took his place Beside the monarch, holding in his hands A boar. The son of Atreus drew a knife, Which hung by the great scabbard of his sword, And, cutting off the forelock of the boar, Prayed with uplifted hands to Jupiter: Meantime the Greeks in silence kept their seats, And, as became them, listened to the king, Who looked into the sky above, and said: "Now first bear witness, Jove, of all the gods Greatest and best, and also Earth and Sun, And Furies dwelling under Earth, who take Vengeance on men forsworn, that never I Have laid, for purpose of unchaste desire, Or other cause, my hand upon the maid Briseis. She hath dwelt inviolate Within my tents. If yet in aught I say Lurk perjury, then may the blessed gods Heap on my head the many miseries With which they punish those who falsely swear!" He spake, and drew the unrelenting blade Across the animal's throat. Talthybius took And swung the carcass round, and cast it forth Into the gray sea's depths, to be the food Of fishes. Then again Achilles rose Among the warlike sons of Greece, and said: - "Great sorrows thou dost send, O Father Jove! Upon mankind; for never would the son Of Atreus have provoked the wrath that burned Within my bosom, never would have thought To bear away the maiden from my tent In spite of me, had it not been the will Of Jupiter that many a Greek should die. But banquet now, and then prepare for war." So spake Achilles, and at once dissolved The assembly, each repairing to his ship Save the large-hearted Myrmidons, who still Were busy with the gifts, and carried them Toward their great general's galley. These they laid Carefully in the tents, and seated there The women, while the attentive followers drave The coursers to the stables. When the maid Briseis, beautiful as Venus, saw Patroclus lying gashed with wounds, she sprang And threw herself upon the dead, and tore Her bosom, her fair cheeks and delicate neck; And thus the graceful maiden, weeping, said: - "Patroclus, dear to my unhappy heart! I left thee in full life, when from this tent They led me; I return and find thee dead, O chieftain of the people! Thus it is That sorrow upon sorrow is my lot. Him to whose arms my father, in my youth, And gracious mother gave me as a bride, I saw before our city pierced and slain, And the three brothers whom my mother bore Slain also, -brothers whom I dearly loved. Yet thou, when swift Achilles struck to earth My hapless husband, and laid waste the town Of godlike Mynes, wouldst not suffer me To weep despairingly; for thou didst give Thy word to make me yet the wedded wife Of great Achilles, bear me in the fleet To Phthia, and prepare the wedding feast Among the Myrmidons. O ever kind! I mourn thy death, and cannot be consoled." Weeping she spake; the women wept with her, Seemingly for the dead, but each, in truth, For her own griefs. Meanwhile the elders came Around Achilles, praying him to join The banquet, but the chief, with sighs, refused. "Dear comrades, if ye love me, do not thus Press me to sit and feast. A mighty woe. Weighs down my spirit; it is my resolve To wait and bear until the setting sun." So saying, he dismissed the other kings. The sons of Atreus, and the high-born chief Ulysses, Nestor, and Idomeneus, And Phœnix, aged knight, alone remained, And anxiously they sought to comfort him In his great grief; but comfort would he none Ere entering the red jaws of war. He drew Deep sighs, and, thinking on Patroclus, spake:- "The time has been when thou too, hapless one, Dearest of all my comrades, wouldst have spread With diligent speed before me in my tent A genial banquet, while the Greeks prepared For desperate battle with the knights of Troy. Thou liest now a mangled corse, and I, Through grief for thee, refrain from food and drink, Though they are near. No worse calamity Could light on me, not even should I hear News of my father's death, who haply now Tenderly mourns with tears his absent son In Phthia, while upon a foreign coast I wage for hated Helen's sake the war Against the Trojans; or were I to hear Tidings that my beloved son had died, The noble Neoptolemus, who now, If living, is in Scyros, growing up To manhood. Once the hope was in my heart That I alone should perish here at Troy, Far from the Argive pastures full of steeds, And thou return to Phthia and bring home My son from Scyros in thy ship, and show The youth my wealth, my servants, and my halls, High-roofed and spacious. For my mind misgives That Peleus either lives not, or endures A painful age, and hardly lives, yet waits To hear the sorrowful news that I am slain." So spake he weeping, and the elders sighed To see his tears, as each recalled to mind Those whom he left at home, while Saturn's son Beheld their grief with pity, and bespake His daughter Pallas thus with winged words:- "My child, wilt thou desert that valiant man? And shall Achilles be no more thy care? Lo, by his ships, before their lofty prows, He sits, lamenting his beloved friend. The rest are at the banquet; he remains Apart from them, and fasting. Hasten thou; With nectar and ambrosial sweets refresh His frame, that hunger overtake him not." As thus he spake he sent the goddess forth Eager to do her errand. Plunging down, In form a shrill-voiced harpy with broad wings, She cleft the air. The Greeks throughout the camp Were putting on their armor. She infused Into the hero's frame ambrosial sweets And nectar, that his limbs might not grow faint With hunger. Then the goddess sought again The stable mansion of Almighty Jove, While all the Greeks came pouring from the fleet. As when the flakes of snow fall thick from heaven, Driven by the north wind sweeping on the clouds Before it, so from out the galleys came Helms crowding upon helms that glittered fair, Strong hauberks, bossy shields, and ashen spears. The gleam of armor brightened heaven and earth, And mighty was the sound of trampling feet. Amidst them all the great Achilles stood, Putting his armor on; he gnashed his teeth; His eyes shot fire; a grief too sharp to bear Was in his heart, as, filled with rage against The men of Troy, he cased his limbs in mail, The gift of Vulcan, from whose diligent hand It came. And first about his legs he clasped The beautiful greaves, with silver fastenings, Fitted the corselet to his bosom next, And from his shoulders hung the brazen sword With silver studs, and then he took the shield, Massive and broad, whose brightness streamed as far As the moon's rays. And as at sea the light Of beacon, blazing in some lonely spot By night, upon a mountain summit, shines To mariners whom the tempest's force has driven Far from their friends across the fishy deep, So from that glorious buckler of the son Of Peleus, nobly wrought, a radiance streamed Into the sky. And then he raised and placed Upon his head the impenetrable helm With horse-hair plume. It glittered like a star, And all the shining tufts of golden thread, With which the maker's hand had thickly set Its cone, were shaken. Next the high-born chief Tried his new arms, to know if they were well Adjusted to his shape, and left his limbs Free play. They seemed like wings, and lifted up The shepherd of the people. Then he drew From its ancestral sheath his father's spear, Heavy and huge and tough. No man of all The Grecian host could wield that weapon save Achilles only. 'T was a Pelian ash, Which Chiron for his father had cut down On Pelion's highest peak, to be the death Of heroes. Meantime, busy with the steeds, Automedon and Alcimus put on Their trappings and their yoke, and round their necks Bound the fair collars, thrust into their mouths The bit, and backward drew the reins to meet The well-wrought chariot. Then Automedon Took in his hand the showy lash, and leaped Into the seat. Behind him, all equipped For war, Achilles mounted, in a blaze Of arms that dazzled like the sun, and thus Called to his father's steeds with terrible voice: - "Xanthus and Balius, whom Podargè bore, A noble stock, - I charge you to bring back Into the Grecian camp, the battle done, Him whom ye now are bearing to the field, Nor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, dead." Swift-footed Xanthus from beneath the yoke Answered him with bowed head and drooping mane That, flowing through the yoke-ring swept the ground, - For Juno gave him then the power of speech:- "For this one day, at least, we bear thee safe, O fiery chief, Achilles! but the hour Of death draws nigh to thee, nor will the blame Be ours; a mighty god and cruel fate Ordain it. Not through our neglect or sloth Did they of Troy strip off thy glorious arms From slain Patroclus. That invincible god, The son of golden-haired Latona, smote The hero in the foremost ranks, and gave Glory to Hector. Even though our speed Were that of Zephyr, fleetest of the winds, Yet certain is thy doom to be o'ercome In battle by a god and by a man." Thus far he spake, and then the Furies checked His further speech. Achilles, swift of foot, Replied in anger: "Xanthus, why foretell My death? It is not needed; well I know My fate, that here I perish, far away From Peleus and my mother. I shall fight Till I have made the Trojans sick of war." He spake, and, shouting to his firm-paced steeds, Drave them, among the foremost, toward the war.
BOOK XX. THUS, O Pelides, did the sons of Greece, Impatient for the battle, arm themselves, By their beaked ships, around thee. Opposite, Upon a height that rose amidst the plain, The Trojans waited. Meantime Jupiter Sent Themis from the Olympian summit, ploughed With dells, to summon all the immortal ones To council. Forth she went from place to place, Bidding them to the palace halls of Jove. Then none of all the Rivers failed to join The assembly, save Oceanus, and none Of all the Nymphs were absent whose abode Is in the pleasant groves and river-founts And grassy meadows. When they reached the halls Of Cloud-compelling Jove they sat them down On shining thrones, divided each from each By polished columns, wrought for Father Jove By Vulcan's skill. Thus all to Jove's abode Were gathered. Neptune had not disobeyed The call. He left the sea, and took his seat Among them, and inquired the will of Jove. "Why, wielder of the lightning, dost thou call The gods again to council? Do thy plans Concern the Greeks and Trojans? For the war Between their hosts will be rekindled soon." And thus the Cloud-compeller Jove replied: "Thou who dost shake the shores, thou knowest well The purpose of my mind, and for whose sake I call this council. Though so soon to die, They are my care. Yet will I keep my place, Seated upon the Olympian mount, and look Calmly upon the conflict. All of you Depart, and aid the Trojans or the Greeks, As it may list you. For should Peleus' son Alone do battle with the men of Troy, Their squadrons could not stand before the assault Of the swift-footed warrior for an hour. Beforetime, at the sight of him they fled, O'ercome with fear, and now, when he is roused To rage by his companion's death, I fear Lest, though it be against the will of fate, He level with the ground the walls of Troy." Saturnius spake, and moved the hosts to join In desperate conflict. All the gods went forth To mingle with the war on different sides. Juno and Pallas hastened to the fleet With Neptune, he who makes the earth to shake, And Hermes, god of useful arts, and shrewd In forecast. Vulcan also went with them, Strong and stern-eyed, yet lame, his feeble legs Moving with labor. To the Trojan side Went crested Mars, Apollo with his locks Unshorn, Diana mighty with the bow, Latona, Xanthus, and the Queen of smiles, Venus; for while the gods remained apart From men, the Achaian host was high in hope Because Achilles, who so long had left The war, now reappeared upon the field, And terror shook the limbs of every son Of Troy when he beheld the swift of foot, Pelides, terrible as Mars - that curse Of human-kind-in glittering arms again. But when the dwellers of Olympus joined The crowd of mortals, Discord, who makes mad The nations, rose and raged; Minerva raised Her war-cry from the trench without the wall, And then she shouted from the sounding shore; While, like a cloudy whirlwind, opposite, Moved Mars, and fiercely yelled, encouraging The men of Troy, as on the city heights He stood, or paced with rapid steps the hill Beside the Simoïs, called the Beautiful. Thus, kindling hate between the hosts, the gods Engaged, and hideous was the strife that rose Among them. From above, with terrible crash, Thundered the father of the blessed gods And mortal men, while Neptune from below Shook the great earth and lofty mountain peaks. Then watery Ida's heights and very roots, The city of Troy, and the Greek galleys, quaked. Then Pluto, ruler of the nether world, Leaped from his throne in terror, lest the god Who makes the earth to tremble, cleaving it Above him, should lay bare to gods and men His horrible abodes, the dismal haunts Which even the gods abhor. Such tumult filled The field of battle when the immortals joined The conflict. Then against King Neptune stood Phœbus Apollo, with his wingèd shafts, And Pallas, goddess of the azure eyes, Confronted Mars. Encountering Juno came The sister of Apollo, archer-queen And huntress, Dian of the golden bow. The helpful Hermes, god of useful arts, Opposed Latona, and the mighty stream Called Xanthus by the immortals, but by men Scamander, with his eddies strong and deep, Stood face to face with Vulcan in the field. So warred the gods with gods. Meantime the son Of Peleus, ranging through the thick of fight, Sought only Hector, Priam's son, whose blood He meant to pour to greedy Mars, the god Of carnage. But Apollo, who impels Warriors to battle, stirred Æneas up To meet Pelides. First he filled his heart With resolute valor, and then took the voice Of Priam's son, Lycaon. In his shape Thus spake Apollo, son of Jupiter:- “Æneas, prince of Troy, where now are all The boasts which thou hast made before the chiefs Of Troy at banquets, that thou yet wouldst meet Pelides in the combat hand to hand?" Æneas made reply: "Priamides, Why dost thou bid me, when thou knowest me Unwilling, meet in combat Peleus' son, The mighty among men? It will not be For the first time if I confront him now. He chased me once from Ida with his spear, - Me and my fellows, when he took our herds And laid Lyrnessus waste and Pedasus. But Jove, who gave me strength and nimble feet, Preserved me; I had else been slain by him And by Minerva, for the goddess went Before him, giving him the victory And moving him to slay the Leleges And Trojans with the brazen spear he bore. 'Tis not for mortal man to fight the son Of Peleus, at whose side there ever stands One of the immortal gods, averting harm. And then his weapon flies right on, nor stops Until it bites the flesh. Yet were the god To weigh the victory in an equal scale, Achilles would not vanquish me with ease, Though he might boast his frame were all of brass." Then spake the king Apollo, son of Jove: "Pray, warrior, to the eternal gods. They say That Venus gave thee birth, who has her own From Jove. His mother is of lower rank Than thine. Thine is a child of Jove, but his A daughter of the Ancient of the Deep. Strike at him with that conquering spear of thine, Nor let him scare thee with stern words and threats." He said, and breathed into the prince's breast Fresh valor, as, arrayed in glittering arms, He pressed to where the foremost warriors fought; Yet not unseen by Juno's eye went forth The son of old Anchises. She convened The gods in council, and addressed them thus:- "Neptune and Pallas, what shall now be done? Consider ye. Æneas, all arrayed In glittering arms, is pressing on to meet Pelides. Phœbus sends him. Let us join To turn him back, or let some one of us Stand near Achilles, fill his limbs with strength, Nor let his heart grow faint, but let him see That we, the mightiest of the immortals, look On him with favor, and that those who strive Amid the war and bloodshed to protect The sons of Troy are empty boasters all. For this we came from heaven to interpose In battle, that Achilles may endure No harm from Trojan hands, although, no doubt, Hereafter he must suffer all that Fate Spun for him when his mother brought him forth. But if he hear not, from some heavenly voice, Of this assurance, fear may fall on him When, haply, in the battle he shall meet Some god; for when revealed to human sight The presence of the gods is terrible." And then did Neptune, he who shakes the earth, Make answer: "Juno, it becomes thee ill To be so greatly vexed. I cannot wish A contest with the other gods, though we In power excel them. Rather let us sit Apart, where we can look upon the war, And leave it to mankind. And yet, if Mars Or Phœbus should begin the fight, or seek To thwart Achilles or restrain his arm, There will be cause for us to join the strife In earnest, and I deem that they full soon, The contest ended, will return to join The assembled gods upon the Olympian mount, Forced to withdraw by our all-potent hands." So spake the dark-haired god, and led the way To the high mound of godlike Hercules, Raised from the earth by Trojans, with the aid Of Pallas, that the hero there might find A refuge when the monster of the deep Should chase him from the sea-beach to the plain. With other gods beside him Neptune there Sat down and drew a shadow, which no sight Could pierce, around their shoulders. Other gods, Upon the hill called Beautiful, were grouped Round thee, Apollo, archer-god, and Mars, Spoiler of cities. On both sides they sat, Devising plans, unwilling to begin The fierce encounter, though Almighty Jove From where he sat in heaven commanded it. The warriors thronged into the field, which shone With brazen armor and caparisons Of steeds; earth trembled with the sounding tramp Of marching squadrons. From the opposing ranks Two chieftains, each the bravest of his host, Impatient to engage, - Anchises' son, Æneas, and the great Achilles, - came. And first Æneas, with defiant mien And nodding casque, stood forth. He held his shield Before him, which he wielded right and left, And shook his brazen spear. On the other side, Pelides hurried toward him, terrible As is a lion, which the assembled hinds Of a whole village chase and seek to slay, While on he stalks, contemning their assault; But if the arrow of some strong-armed youth Have smitten him, he stands, and gathers all His strength to spring, with open jaws and teeth Half hid in foam, and uttering fearful growls From his deep chest; he lashes with his tail His sides and sinewy thighs to rouse himself To combat, and then, grimly frowning, leaps To slay, or by the foremost youths be slain, So sprang Achilles, moved by his bold heart To meet the brave Æneas. As the twain Drew near each other, the swift-footed chief, The great Achilles, was the first to speak:- "Why, O Æneas, hast thou come so far Through this vast crowd to seek me? Does thy heart Bid thee confront me in the hope to gain The place which Priam holds, and to bear rule Over the knights of Troy? Yet shouldst thou take My life, think not that Priam in thy hand Will place such large reward. He has his sons, Nor is he fickle, but of stable mind. Or will the Trojans, if thou slayest me, Bestow on thee broad acres, of a soil Fruitful exceedingly, and suited well To vines or to the plough, which thou mayst till? That also, as I hope, thou wilt obtain With difficulty; for, unless I err, I forced thee once to flee before my spear. Dost thou remember, when thou wert alone Among thy beeves, I drave thee, running fast, Down Ida's steeps? Then didst thou never turn To face me, but didst seek a hiding-place Within Lyrnessus, which I also took And wasted, with the aid of Father Jove And Pallas. From the town I led away The women, never to be free again. Jove and the other gods protected thee That day. Yet will they not protect thee now, As thou dost vainly hope. Withstand me not, I counsel thee, but hide thyself among The crowd before thou suffer harm, for he Who sees past evils only is a fool." And then Æneas answered: "Do not think, Pelides, with such words to frighten me, As if I were a beardless boy. I too Might use reproach and taunt; but well we know Each other's birth and lineage, through report Of men, although by sight I know not thine, Nor know'st thou mine. They say that thou art sprung From Peleus the renowned, and from the nymph Of ocean, fair-haired Thetis, while I boast My birth from brave Anchises, and can claim Venus as mother. Two of these to-day Must weep the death of a beloved son, For we are not to part, I think, nor end The combat after a few childish words; Yet let me speak, that thou mayst better know Our lineage, known already far and wide. Jove was the father, Cloud-compelling Jove, Of Dardanus, by whom Dardania first Was peopled, ere our sacred Troy was built On the great plain, - a populous town; for men Dwelt still upon the roots of Ida fresh With many springs. To Dardanus was born King Erichthonius, richest in his day Of mortal men, and in his meadows grazed Three thousand mares, exulting in their brood Of tender foals. Of some of this vast herd Boreas became enamored as they fed. He came to them in likeness of a steed That wore an azure mane, and they brought forth Twelve foals, which all were females, of such speed That when they frolicked on the teeming earth They flew along the topmost ears of wheat And broke them not, and when they sported o'er The mighty bosom of the deep they ran Along the hoary summits of its waves. To Erichthonius Tros was born, who ruled The Trojans, and from Tros there sprang three sons Of high renown, - Ilus, Assaracus, And godlike Ganymede, most beautiful Of men; the gods beheld and caught him up To heaven, so beautiful was he, to pour The wine to Jove, and ever dwell with them. And Ilus had a son, Laomedon, Of mighty fame, to whom five sons were born, Tithonus, Priam, Lampus, Clytius, And Hicetaon, trained to war by Mars. Assaracus begat my ancestor, Capys, to whom Anchises owes his birth. Anchises is my father; Priam's son Is noble Hector. Such I claim to be My lineage and my blood; but Jove at will Gives in large measure, or diminishes, Men's warlike prowess; and the power of Jove Is over all. But let us talk no more Of things like these, as if we were but boys, While here in the mid-field we stand between The warring armies. Both of us might cast Reproaches at each other, many and foul, Such as no galley of a hundred oars Could bear and float. Men's tongues are voluble, And endless are the modes of speech, and far Extends from side to side the field of words. Such as thou utterest it will be thy lot To hear from others. But what profits it For us to rail and wrangle, in high brawl, Like women angered to the quick, that rush Into the middle of the street and scold With furious words, some true and others false, As rage may prompt them? Me thou shalt not move With words from my firm purpose ere thou raise Thy arm against me. Let us hasten first To prove the temper of our brazen spears." He spake, and hurled his brazen spear to smite The dreadful shield, a terror in men's eyes; That mighty buckler rang with the strong blow. Achilles, as it came, held forth his shield With nervous arm far from him, for he feared That the long javelin of his valiant foe Might pierce it. Idle fear; he had not thought That the bright armor given him by the gods Not easily would yield to force of man. Nor could the rapid spear that left the hand Of brave Æneas pierce the shield; the gold, The gift of Vulcan, stopped it. Through two folds It went, but three remained; for Vulcan's skill Fenced with five folds the disk, - the outer two Of brass, the inner two of tin; between Was one of gold, and there the brazen spear Was stayed. And then in turn Achilles threw His ponderous spear, and struck the orbed shield Borne by Æneas near the upper edge, Where thinnest was the brass and thinnest lay The bullock's hide. The Pelian ash broke through; The buckler crashed; Æneas, stooping low, Held it above him, terrified; the spear, Tearing both plate and hide of that huge shield, Passed over him, and, eager to go on, Plunged in the earth and stood. He, when he saw The massive lance which he had just escaped Fixed in the earth so near him, stood awhile As struck with fear, and with despairing looks. Achilles drew his trenchant sword and rushed With fury on Æneas, uttering A fearful shout. Æneas lifted up A stone, a mighty weight, which no two men, As men are now, could raise, yet easily He wielded it. Æneas then, to save His threatened life, had smitten with the stone His adversary's buckler or his helm, And with his sword Pelides had laid dead The Trojan, had not he who shakes the earth, Neptune, beheld him in that perilous hour, And instantly addressed the immortal gods: - "My heart, ye gods, is heavy for the sake Of the great-souled Æneas, who will sink To Hades overcome by Peleus' son. Rash man! he listened to the archer-god Apollo, who has now no power to save The chief from death. But, guiltless as he is, Why should he suffer evil for the wrong Of others? He has always sought to please With welcome offerings the gods who dwell In the broad heaven. Let us withdraw him, then, From this great peril, lest, if he should fall Before Achilles, haply Saturn's son May be displeased. And 't is the will of fate That he escape; that so the Dardan race, Beloved by Jove above all others sprung From him and mortal women, may not yet Perish from earth and leave no progeny. For Saturn's son already holds the house Of Priam in disfavor, and will make Æneas ruler o'er the men of Troy, And his sons' sons shall rule them after him." Imperial Juno with large eyes replied: "Determine, Neptune, for thyself, and save Æneas, or, all blameless as he is, Abandon him to perish by the hand Of Peleus' son, Achilles. We have sworn- Minerva and myself that never we Would aid in aught the Trojans to escape Their day of ruin, though the town of Troy Sink to the dust in the destroying flames, - Flames kindled by the warlike sons of Greece." And then did Neptune, shaker of the shores, Go forth into the battle and amidst The clash of spears, and come where stood the chiefs, Æneas and his mighty foe, the son Of Peleus. Instantly he caused to rise A darkness round the eyes of Peleus' son, And from the buckler of Æneas drew The spear with ashen stem and brazen blade, And laid it at Achilles' feet, and next He lifted high Æneas from the ground And bore him thence. O'er many a warrior's head, And many a harnessed steed, Æneas flew, Hurled by the god, until he reached the rear Of that fierce battle, where the Caucons stood Arrayed for war. The shaker of the shores Drew near, and said to him in wingèd words: "What god, Æneas, moved thee to defy Madly the son of Peleus, who in might Excels thee, and is dearer to the gods? Whenever he encounters thee in arms Give way, lest thou, against the will of fate, Pass down to Hades. When he shall have met His fate and perished, thou mayst boldly dare To face the foremost of the enemy; No other of the Greeks shall take thy life." He spake, and having thus admonished him He left Æneas there, and suddenly Swept off the darkness that so thickly rose Around Achilles, who, with sight now clear, Looked forth, and, sighing, said to his great soul: - "How strange is this! My eyes have seen to-day A mighty marvel. Here the spear I flung Is lying on the earth, and him at whom I cast it, in the hope to take his life, I see no longer. Well beloved, no doubt, Is this Æneas by the immortal gods. Yet that, I thought, was but an empty boast Of his. Well, let him go; I cannot think That he who gladly fled from death will find The courage to encounter me again. And now will I exhort the Greeks to fight This battle bravely, while I go to prove The prowess of the other chiefs of Troy." He spake, and, cheering on the soldiery, He sprang into the ranks: "Ye noble Greeks, Avoid no more the Trojans; press right on. Let each man single out his man, and fight With eager heart. 'T is hard for me to chase, With all my warlike might, so many men, And fight with all. Not even Mars, the god, Although immortal, nor Minerva's self, Could combat with so vast a multitude Unwearied; yet whatever I can do, With hands and feet and strength, I give my word Not to decline, or be remiss in aught. I go to range the Trojan files, where none, I think, will gladly stand to meet my spear." Such stirring words he uttered, while aloud Illustrious Hector called, encouraging The men of Troy, and promising to meet Achilles: "Valiant Trojans, do not quail Before Pelides. In the strife of words I too might bear my part against the gods; But harder were the combat with the spear, For greater is their might than ours. The son Of Peleus cannot make his threatenings good. A part will he perform and part will leave Undone. I go to wait him; I would go Although his hands were like consuming flame, — His hands like flame, his strength the strength of steel." He spake: the Trojans at his stirring words Lifted their lances, and the adverse hosts Joined battle with a fearful din. Then came Apollo and admonished Hector thus:- "Hector, encounter not Achilles here Before the armies, but amidst the throng And tumult of the battle, lest perchance He strike thee with the javelin or the sword." He spake: the Trojan chief, dismayed to hear The warning of the god, withdrew among The crowded ranks. Meantime Achilles sprang Upon the Trojans with a terrible cry, And slew a leader of the host, the brave Iphition, whom a Naiad, at the foot Of snowy Tmolus, in the opulent vale Of Hyda, bore to the great conqueror Of towns, Otrynteus. As he came in haste, The noble son of Peleus with his spear Smote him upon the forehead in the midst, And cleft the head in two. He fell; his arms Clashed, and Achilles boasted o'er him thus:- "Son of Otrynteus, terrible in arms, Thou art brought low; thou meetest here thy death, Though thou wert born by the Gygæan lake Where lie, by fishy Hyllus and the stream Of eddying Hermus, thy paternal fields." Thus boastfully he spake, while darkness came Over Iphition's eyes, and underneath The chariots of the Greeks who foremost fought His corse was mangled. Next Achilles smote Antenor's son, Demoleon, gallantly Breasting the onset of the Greeks. He pierced His temple through the helmet's brazen cheek; The brass stayed not the blow; the eager spear Brake through the bone, and crushed the brain within, And the brave youth lay dead. Achilles next Struck down Hippodamas; he pierced his back As, leaping from his car, the Phrygian fled Before him. With a moan he breathed away His life, as moans a bull when dragged around The altar of the Heliconian king By youths on whom the god that shakes the earth Looks down well pleased. With such a moaning sound The fiery spirit left the Phrygian's frame. Then sprang Achilles with his spear to slay The godlike Polydorus, Priam's son, Whose father bade him not to join the war, For he was younger than the other sons, And dearest of them all. In speed of foot He had no peer. Yet, with a boyish pride To show his swiftness, in the foremost ranks He ranged the field, until he lost his life. Him with a javelin the swift-footed son Of Peleus smote as he was hurrying by. The weapon pierced the middle of his back, Where, by its golden rings, the belt was clasped Above the double corselet; the keen blade Came forth in front; the Trojan with a cry Fell forward on his knees, and, bending, clasped His bowels in his hands. When Hector saw His brother thus upon the earth, there came A darkness o'er his eyes, nor could he bear Longer to stand aloof, but, brandishing His spear, came forward like a rushing flame To meet the son of Peleus, who beheld And bounded toward him, saying boastfully: "So, he is near whose hand hath given my heart Its deepest wound, who slew my dearest friend. No more are we to shun each other now, Timidly stealing through the paths of war." And then he said to Hector with a frown: "Draw nearer, that thou mayst the sooner die." The crested Hector, undismayed, replied: "Pelides; do not hope with empty words To frighten me, as if I were a boy. Insults and taunts I could with ease return. I know that thou art brave; I know that I In might am not thy equal; but the event Rests in the laps of the great gods, and they May, though I lack thy prowess, give thy life Into my hands when I shall cast my spear. The weapon that I bear is keen like thine." Thus having spoken, brandishing his spear, He sent it forth; but with a gentle breath Minerva turned it from the glorious Greek, And laid it at the noble Hector's feet. Then did Achilles, resolute to slay His enemy, rush against him with a shout Of fury; but Apollo, with such power As gods put forth, withdrew him thence, and spread A darkness round him. Thrice the swift of foot, Achilles, rushed against him with his spear, And thrice he smote the cloud. But when once more, In godlike might, he made the assault, he spake These winged words of menace and reproach: - "Hound as thou art, thou hast once more escaped Thy death; for it was near. Again the hand Of Phœbus rescues thee; to him thy vows Are made ere thou dost trust thyself amidst The clash of javelins. I shall meet thee yet And end thee utterly, if any god Favor me also. I will now pursue And strike the other Trojan warriors down." He spake, and in the middle of the neck Smote Dryops with his spear. The Phrygian fell Before him at his feet. He left him there, And wounding with his spear Philetor's son, Demuchus, tall and valiant, in the knee, Stayed him until he slew him with his sword. Then from their chariot to the ground he cast Laogonus and Dardanus, the sons Of Bias, piercing with a javelin one, And cutting down the other with his sword. And Tros, Alastor's son, who came to him And clasped his knees, in hope that he would spare A captive, spare his life, nor slay a youth Of his own age, - vain hope! he little knew That not by prayers Achilles could be moved, Nor was he pitiful, nor mild of mood, But hard of heart, - while Tros embraced his knees And passionately sued, Pelides thrust His sword into his side; the liver came Forth at the wound; the dark blood gushing filled The Phrygian's bosom; o'er his eyes there crept A darkness, and his life was at an end. Approaching Mulius next, Achilles smote The warrior at the ear; the brazen point Passed through the other ear; and then he slew Agenor's son, Echeclus, letting fall His heavy-hilted sword upon his head Just in the midst; the blade grew warm with blood, And gloomy death and unrelenting fate Darkened the victim's eyes. Achilles next Wounded Deucalion, thrusting through his arm The brazen javelin, where the sinews met That strung the elbow. While with powerless arm The wounded Trojan stood awaiting death, Achilles drave his falchion through his neck. Far flew the head and helm, the marrow flowed From out the spine, and stretched upon the ground Deucalion lay. Pelides still went on, O'ertaking Rigmus, the renowned son Of Peireus, from the fruitful fields of Thrace, And smote him in the stomach with his lance. There hung the weapon fixed; the wounded man Fell from the car. At Areïthoüs The charioteer, who turned his steeds to flee, Achilles sent his murderous lance, and pierced His back, and dashed him from the car, and left His horses wild with fright. As when, among The deep dells of an arid mountain-side, A great fire burns its way, and the thick wood Before it is consumed, and shifting winds Hither and thither sweep the flames, so ranged Achilles in his fury through the field From side to side, and everywhere o'ertook His victims, and the earth ran dark with blood. As when a yeoman underneath the yoke Brings his broad-fronted oxen to tread out White barley on the level threshing-floor, The sheaves are quickly trodden small beneath The heavy footsteps of the bellowing beasts, So did the firm-paced coursers, which the son Of Peleus guided, trample with their feet Bucklers and corpses, while beneath the car Blood steeped the axle, and the chariot-seat Dripped on its rim with blood, that from below Was splashed upon them by the horses' hoofs And by the chariot-wheels. Such havoc made Pelides in his ardor for renown, Till his invincible hands were foul with blood.
BOOK XXI. NOW when they reached the pleasant banks through which The eddying Xanthus runs, the river sprung From deathless Jove, Achilles drave his foes Asunder. Part he chased across the plain Townward, along the way by which the Greeks In terror fled the day before, pursued By glorious Hector. Panic-struck they ran Along that way, while, to restrain their flight, Before them Juno hung a veil of cloud And darkness. Meanwhile half the flying crowd Leaped down to that deep stream and rolled among Its silver eddies. With a mighty noise They plunged; the torrent dashed; the banks around Remurmured shrilly to the cries of those Who floated struggling in the current's whirl, As when before the fierce, devouring flames A swarm of locusts, springing into air, Fly toward a river, while the fire behind Crackles with sudden fierceness, and in fright They fall into the waves, the roaring stream Of the deep-eddied Xanthus thus was filled Before Achilles with a mingled crowd Of steeds and men. The Jove-descended man Left leaning on the tamarisks his spear Upon the river's border, and leaped in, Armed only with his sword, intent to deal Death on the fugitives; on every side He smote, and from the smitten by the sword Rose lamentable cries; the waves around Grew crimson with their blood. As when before A dolphin of huge bulk the fishes flee In fear, and crowd the creeks that lie around The sheltered haven, - for their foe devours All that he overtakes, - the Trojans thus Hid from his sight among the hollow rocks Beside the rushing river. When his hand Was weary with the work of death, he took Twelve youths alive, whose blood was yet to pay The penalty for Menœtiades, His slaughtered friend. He led them from the stream, Passive with fear like fawns, and tied their hands Behind them with the well-twined cords that bound Their tunics. Then he gave them to his friends, Who led the captives to the roomy ships. Again Achilles rushed upon the foe Intent on slaughter. One he met who climbed The river's bank, Dardanian Priam's son, Lycaon, whom in former days he made His captive, by surprise, when in the night He found him lopping with an axe the boughs Of a wild fig-tree, that the trunk might form The circle of a wheel. Achilles came, An unexpected foe, and bore him off To sea, and sold him in the populous isle Of Lemnos. He was bought by Jason's son, The Imbrian prince, Eëtion, who had been His host, and now redeemed him with large gifts, And sent him to Arisba's noble town. Yet thence he stole, and reached his father's house Again, and there made merry with his friends Eleven days, but on the twelfth a god Delivered him again into the hands Of Peleus' son, who now would send his soul Repining down to Hades. When the chief, The swift of foot, beheld him stand unarmed, With neither helm nor shield nor spear, - for these He had thrown down, - faint with the sweaty toil Of clambering up the bank, and every limb Unstrung with weariness, then wrathfully Thus said Achilles to his mighty soul: - "O strange! my eyes behold a miracle. Sure, the brave sons of Troy whom I have slain Will rise up from the nether darkness yet, Since this man, whom I once reprieved from death And sold in Lemnos the divine, comes back. Nor could the ocean's gray abyss of brine, Beyond which many long in vain to pass, Detain him in that isle. But he shall taste The sharpness of my spear, that I may prove Whether he after that will reappear, And whether the kind earth, which holds so well The valiant dead, can keep him in her womb." So pondered he and stood. The Trojan drew Close to him, with intent to clasp his knees, Fear-struck, yet hoping to avoid the doom Of bitter death. The great Achilles raised His ponderous spear to strike. Lycaon stooped, And, darting underneath the weapon, seized The hero's knees; behind him in the ground The spear stood fixed, though eager yet for blood; One arm was round his adversary's knees, The other held - and would not let it go- The spear, while thus with wingèd words he prayed:- "I clasp thy knees, Achilles; look on me Kindly and pity me, O foster-child Of Jove. I am thy suppliant, and may claim Thy mercy. I partook with thee the fruits Of Ceres, when amid my fruitful fields Thou madest me a captive, carrying me From friends and kindred to the sacred isle Of Lemnos. Thou didst sell me there, -my price A hundred beeves, - and thou shalt now receive, For ransom, thrice as many. It is yet But the twelfth morning since I came to Troy After much hardship, and a pitiless fate Betrays me to thy hands. I must believe That Father Jove in wrath delivers me To thee again. Laothoë brought me forth To a brief life; that mother was the child Of aged Altes, — Altes ruling o'er The warlike Leleges, by whom are tilled The heights of Pedasus, where Satnio flows, — And Priam wedded her with other maids. She bore two children to be slain by thee; One was the godlike Polydore, whom thou Didst smite with thy keen spear, in the front rank Of those who fought on foot. His evil fate Must overtake me now, for, since a god Has brought me near thee, there is no escape. Yet let me tell thee this, and weigh it well, And let it save my life. I came not forth From the same womb with Hector, by whose hand Thy brave and gentle friend, Patroclus, died." The illustrious son of Priam ended here His prayer, and heard a merciless reply: - "Fool! never talk of ransom, - not a word. Before the evil day on which my friend Was slain, it pleased me oftentimes to spare The Trojans. Many a one I took alive And sold; but now no man of all their race, Whom any god may bring within my reach, Shall leave the field alive, and least of all The sons of Priam. Die thou, then; and why Shouldst thou, my friend, lament? Patroclus died, And greatly he excelled thee. Seest thou not How eminent in stature and in form Am I, whom to a prince renowned for worth A goddess mother bore; yet will there come To me a violent death at morn, at eve, Or at the midday hour, whenever he Whose weapon is to take my life shall cast The spear or send an arrow from the string." He spake: the Trojan's heart and knees grew faint; His hand let go the spear; he sat and cowered With outstretched arms. Achilles drew his sword, And smote his neck just at the collar-bone; The two-edged blade was buried deep. He fell Prone on the earth; the black blood spouted forth And steeped the soil. Achilles by the foot Flung him to float among the river-waves, And uttered, boastfully, these winged words: - "Lie there among the fishes, who shall feed Upon thy blood unscared. No mother there Shall weep thee lying on thy bier; thy corpse Scamander shall bear down to the broad sea, Where, as he sees thee darkening its face, Some fish shall hasten, darting through the waves, To feed upon Lycaon's fair white limbs. So perish ye, till sacred Troy be ours, You fleeing, while I follow close and slay. This river cannot aid you, - this fair stream With silver eddies, to whose deity Ye offer many beeves in sacrifice, And fling into its gulfs your firm-paced steeds; But thus ye all shall perish, till I take Full vengeance for Patroclus of the Greeks, Whom, while I stood aloof from war, ye slew." He spake: and, deeply moved with inward wrath, The River pondered how to render vain The prowess of Achilles, and avert Destruction from the Trojans. Now the son Of Peleus rushed, his ponderous spear in hand, To slay Asteropæus, who was sprung From Pelegon, and Pelegon was born To the broad river Axius, of a maid, The eldest-born of Acessamenus, Named Peribœa; for the river-god Was joined with her in love. Achilles sprang To meet the youth, as, rising from the stream, Armed with two spears, he stood, his heart made strong And resolute by Xanthus, who had seen Indignantly so many Trojans die, - Youths whom Achilles slaughtered in his stream, And had no pity on them. When the twain Were near each other, standing face to face, The swift Achilles was the first to speak : - "Who and whence art thou that dost venture thus To meet me? They who seek to measure strength With me are sons of most unhappy men." And thus the illustrious son of Pelegon Made answer: "Brave Pelides, why inquire My lineage? I am from a distant coast, - Pæonia's fertile fields; I lead to war Pæonia's warriors with long spears, and this Is now the eleventh morning since I came To join the war at Troy. I claim descent From Axius, the broad Axius, who pours forth The fairest river on the earth. His son Was Pelegon, expert to wield the spear, And I was born to Pelegon. And now, Illustrious son of Peleus, let us fight." He spake: Achilles raised the Pelian ash To smite; Asteropæus aimed at him Both lances, for he used both hands alike. One struck the Grecian's shield, yet passed not through, Stopped by the god-given gold; the other gashed Lightly the elbow of his dexter arm; The black blood spouted forth, the spear passed on Beyond him, and, still eager for its prey, Stood fixed in earth. Achilles then, intent To slay Asteropæus, hurled at him His trusty spear. The weapon missed its mark, And, striking the high bank, was buried there Up to the middle of its ashen staff. Achilles drew the keen sword from his thigh, And flew with fury toward his foe, who toiled In vain with sinewy arm to pluck that spear From out the bank; and thrice he shook the beam Fiercely, and thrice desisted, lacking strength, And last he sought, by bending it, to break The ashen weapon of Eacides. But ere it snapped Achilles took his life, Smiting him at the navel with the sword. Forth gushed the entrails to the ground, and o'er His dying eyes the darkness came; and then Achilles, leaping on his breast, tore off The armor, and exultingly exclaimed: - "Lie there! a perilous task it was for thee To combat with a son of Jove, though born Thyself to a great River. I can boast Descent from sovereign Jove. I owe my birth To Peleus, ruler of the Myrmidons. His father was Æacus, who was born To Jupiter, a god more potent far Than all the rivers flowing to the sea. And mightier is the race of Jupiter Than that of any stream. Here close at hand Is a great river, if such aid can aught Avail thee; but to strive with Jupiter Is not permitted. Acheloūs, king Of rivers, cannot vie with him, nor yet The great and mighty deep from which proceed All streams and seas and founts and watery depths. He trembles at the bolt of mighty Jove And his hoarse thunder crashing in the sky." As thus he spake he plucked from out the bank His brazen spear, and left the lifeless chief Stretched in the sand, where the dark water steeped His limbs, and eels and fishes came and gnawed The warrior's reins. Achilles hastened on, Pursuing the Pæonian knights, who now, When they beheld their bravest overthrown In desperate battle by the mighty arm And falchion of Pelides, took to flight Along the eddying river. There he slew Mydon, Thersilochus, Astypylus, Mnesus, and Thrasius, and struck down in death Ænius and Ophelestes. Many more Of the Pæonians the swift-footed Greek Had slain, had not the eddying River, roused To anger, put a human semblance on, And uttered from its whirling deeps a voice:- "O son of Peleus! thou who dost excel All other men in might and dreadful deeds, - For the gods aid thee ever, - if the son Of Saturn gives thee to destroy the race Of Trojans, drive them from me to the plain, And there perform thy terrible exploits. For now my pleasant waters, in their flow, Are choked with heaps of dead, and I no more Can pour them into the great deep, so thick The corpses clog my bed, while thou dost slay And sparest not. Now then, withhold thy hand, Prince of the people! I am horror-struck." Achilles the swift-footed made reply: "Be it as thou commandest, foster-child Of Jove, Scamander! Yet I shall not cease To slay these treaty-breakers till at length I shut them up within their town, and force Hector to meet me, that we may decide Which shall o'ercome the other, - he or I.” He spake, and rushed upon the men of Troy, Terrible as a god, while from his bed The eddying River called to Phœbus thus:- "Why this, thou bearer of the silver bow, Thou son of Jove? Thou heedest not the will Of Saturn's son, who strictly bade that thou Shouldst aid the Trojans till the latest gleam Of sunset, and till night is on the fields." And then Achilles, mighty. with the spear, From the steep bank leaped into the mid-stream, While, foul with ooze, the angry River raised His waves, and pushed along the heaps of dead Slain by Achilles. These, with mighty roar As of a bellowing ox, Scamander cast Aground; the living with his whirling gulfs He hid, and saved them in his friendly streams. In tumult terribly the surges rose Around Achilles, beating on his shield, And made his feet to stagger, till he grasped A tall, fair-growing elm upon the bank. Down came the tree, and in its loosened roots Brought the earth with it; the fair stream was checked By the thick branches, and the prostrate trunk Bridged it from side to side. Achilles sprang From the deep pool, and fled with rapid feet Across the plain in terror. Nor did then The mighty river-god refrain, but rose Against him with a darker crest, to drive The noble son of Peleus from the field, And so deliver Troy. Pelides sprang A spear's cast backward, - sprang with all the speed Of the black eagle's wing, the hunter-bird, Fleetest and strongest of the fowls of air. Like him he darted; clashing round his breast, The brazen mail rang fearfully. Askance He fled; the water with a mighty roar Followed him close. As, when a husbandman Leads forth, from some dark spring of earth, a rill Among his planted garden-beds, and clears Its channel, spade in hand, the pebbles there Move with the current, which runs murmuring down The sloping surface and outstrips its guide, - So rushed the waves where'er Achilles ran, Swift as he was; for mightier are the gods Than men. As often as the noble son Of Peleus made a stand in hope to know Whether the deathless gods of the great heaven Conspired to make him flee, so often came A mighty billow of the Jove-born stream And drenched his shoulders. Then again he sprang Away; the rapid torrent made his knees To tremble, while it swept, where'er he trod, The earth from underneath his feet. He looked To the broad heaven above him, and complained: - "Will not some god, O Father Jove, put forth His power to save me in my hour of need From this fierce river? Any fate but this I am resigned to suffer. None of all The immortal ones is more in fault than she To whom I owe my birth; her treacherous words Deluded me to think that I should fall Beneath the walls of Troy by the swift shafts Of Phœbus. Would that Hector, the most brave Of warriors reared upon the Trojan soil, Had slain me; he had slain a brave man then, And a brave man had stripped me of my arms. But now it is my fate to perish, caught In this great river, like a swineherd's boy, Who in the time of rains attempts to pass A torrent, and is overwhelmed and drowned." He spake, and Neptune and Minerva came Quickly and stood beside him. In the form Of men they came, and took his hand, and cheered His spirit with their words. And thus the god Neptune, who makes the earth to tremble, said: - "Fear not, Pelides, neither let thy heart Be troubled, since thou hast among the gods, By Jove's consent, auxiliars such as I And Pallas. It is not thy doom to be Thus vanquished by a river. Soon its rage Will cease, as thou shalt see. Meantime we give This counsel; heed it well: let not thy hand Refrain from slaughter till the Trojan host Are all shut up - all that escape thy arm - Within the lofty walls of Troy. Then take The life of Hector, and return on board Thy galleys; we will make that glory thine." Thus having spoken, they withdrew and joined The immortals, while Achilles hastened on, Encouraged by the mandate of the gods, Across the plain. The plain was overflowed With water; sumptuous arms were floating round, And bodies of slain youths. Achilles leaped, And stemmed with powerful limbs the stream, and still Went forward; for Minerva mightily Had strengthened him. Nor did Scamander fail To put forth all his power, enraged the more Against the son of Peleus; higher still His torrent swelled and tossed with all its waves, And thus he called to Simoïs with a shout: - "O brother, join with me to hold in check This man, who threatens soon to overthrow King Priam's noble city; for no more The Trojan host resist him. Come at once And aid me; fill thy channel from its springs, And summon all thy brooks, and lift on high A mighty wave, and roll along thy bed, Mingled in one great torrent, trees and stones, That we may tame this savage man, who now In triumph walks the field, and bears himself As if he were a god. His strength, I deem, Will not avail him, nor his noble form, Nor those resplendent arms, which yet shall lie Scattered along the bottom of my gulfs, And foul with ooze. Himself too I shall wrap In sand, and pile the rubbish of my bed In heaps around him. Never shall the Greeks Know where to gather up his bones, o'erspread By me with river-slime, for there shall be His burial-place; no other tomb the Greeks Will need when they perform his funeral rites." He spake, and wrathfully he rose against Achilles, - rose with turbid waves, and noise, And foam, and blood and bodies of the dead. One purple billow of the Jove-born stream Swelled high and whelmed Achilles. Juno saw, And trembled lest the hero should be whirled Downward by the great river, and in haste She called to Vulcan, her beloved son: - "Vulcan, my son, arise! We deemed that thou And eddying Xanthus were of equal might In battle. Come with instant aid, and bring Thy vast array of flames, while from the deep I call a tempest of the winds, - the West And the swift South, - and they shall sweep along A fiery torrent to consume the foe, Warriors and weapons. Thou meantime lay waste The groves along the Xanthus; hurl at him Thy fires, nor let him with soft words or threats Avert thy fury. Pause not from the work Of ruin till I shout and give the sign, And then shalt thou restrain thy restless fires." She spake, and Vulcan at her word sent forth His fierce, devouring flames. Upon the plain They first were kindled, and consumed the dead That strewed it, where Achilles struck them down. The ground was dried; the glimmering flood was stayed. As when the autumnal north-wind, breathing o'er A newly watered garden, quickly dries The clammy mould, and makes the tiller glad, So did the spacious plain grow dry on which The dead were turned to ashes. Then the god Seized on the river with his glittering fires. The elms, the willows, and the tamarisks Fell, scorched to cinders, and the lotus-herbs, Rushes, and reeds that richly fringed the banks Of that fair-flowing current were consumed. The eels and fishes, that were wont to glide Hither and thither through the pleasant depths And eddies, languished in the fiery breath Of Vulcan, mighty artisan. The strength Of the great River withered, and he spake: - "O Vulcan, there is none of all the gods Who may contend with thee. I combat not With fires like thine. Cease then. With my consent The noble son of Peleus may drive out The Trojans from their city. What have I To do with war, - the attack or the defence?" Thus in that fiery glow he spake, while seethed His pleasant streams. As over a strong fire A caldron filled with fat of pampered swine Glows bubbling on all sides, while underneath Burns the dry fuel, thus were his fair streams Scorched by the heat, and simmered, while the blast Sent forth by Vulcan, the great artisan, Tormented him, and he besought the aid Of Juno with these supplicating words : - "Why should thy son, O Juno, wreak on me His fury, more than on the other gods? My fault is less than theirs who give their aid To Troy; and I will cease, if thou command. Bid him desist, and here I pledge my oath Not to attempt to save the Trojan race From ruin, though their city sink in flames Before the torches of the warlike Greeks." This when the white-armed goddess Juno heard, She said to Vulcan, her beloved son: - "Dear son, refrain; it is not well that thus A god should suffer for the sake of men." She spake, and Vulcan quenched his dreadful fires, And back the pleasant waters to their bed Went gliding. Xanthus had been made to yield, And the two combatants no longer strove Since Juno, though offended, bade them cease. Yet was the conflict terrible among The other gods, as zeal for different sides Impelled them. With a loud uproar they met Each other in the field; the spacious earth Rebellowed to the noise, and the great heaven Returned it. To the ear of Jove it rose, Who, sitting on Olympus, laughed within His secret heart as he beheld the gods Contending, for not long they stood apart. Shield-breaking Mars began the assault; he rushed Toward Pallas, brandishing his brazen spear, And thus accosted her with insolent words: - "Thou shameless one, thou whose effrontery Is boundless, why wilt thou provoke the gods To strife? Thy temper is most arrogant. Rememberest thou the time when thou didst prompt Tydides Diomed to strike at me? It was thy hand that held his shining spear, And aimed it well, and gave the wound; but now Will I take vengeance on thee for that wrong.” He spake, and smote Minerva's fringed shield, The dreadful ægis, which not even Jove Could pierce with thunderbolts. The murderous Mars Smote it with his huge spear. She only stepped Backward a space, and with her powerful hand Lifted a stone that lay upon the plain, Black, huge, and jagged, which the men of old Had placed there for a landmark. This she hurled At Mars, and struck him on the neck; he fell With nerveless limbs, and covered, as he lay, Seven acres of the field: his armor clashed Around him in his fall; his locks all soiled Lay in the trodden dust. The goddess stood O'er him, and boasted thus with winged words:- "Fool that thou art, hast thou not learned how much The might I boast excels thine own, that thus Thou measurest strength with me? Now dost thou feel Thy mother's curse fulfilled, who meditates Thy chastisement, since thou hast left the Greeks And joined the treaty-breaking sons of Troy." She spake, and turned away her glorious eyes. Jove's daughter, Venus, took the hand of Mars, And led him groaning thence, while hardly yet His strength came back. The white-armed Juno saw, And spake to Pallas thus, with wingèd words: - "See, daughter of the Ægis-bearer, Jove, Unconquerable maid! that shameless one, Through all the tumult, from the thick of fight, Leads hence the murderous Mars; but follow her." She spake, and Pallas gladly hastened forth, And, overtaking Venus, dealt at her A mighty buffet on the breast; her heart Fainted, her knees gave way; and, as she lay Prostrate with Mars upon the fruitful earth, Exulting Pallas spake these wingèd words: - "Would that all those who aid the cause of Troy And combat with the mailed Greeks were thus! Would that they were as hardy and as brave As Venus here, who ventured to the help Of Mars, and met the force of my right arm! Then had the stately Ilium been o'erthrown Long since, and we had rested from the war." She spake: the white-armed Juno gently smiled, And then King Neptune to Apollo said: - "Why, Phœbus, stand we thus aloof? it ill Becomes us, while the other gods engage In conflict. 'T were a shame should we return Up to Olympus and the brazen halls Of Jove with no blow struck. Begin, for thou Art younger born, and I, who both in years And knowledge am before thee, must not make The assault. O silly god, and slow of thought! Hast thou indeed forgotten all the wrongs We suffered once in Troy, and only we Of all the gods, when, sent to earth by Jove, We served a twelvemonth for a certain hire The proud Laomedon, by whom our tasks Were set? I built a city and a wall Of broad extent, and beautiful, and strong To stand assault; and, Phœbus, thou didst feed His stamping oxen, with curved horns, among The lawns of woody Ida seamed with glens. But when the welcome hours had brought the day Of our reward, the ruffian king refused The promised wages, and dismissed us both With menaces; to bind thee hand and foot He threatened, and to sell thee as a slave In distant isles, and to cut off the ears Of both of us. So we returned to heaven, Incensed at him who thus withheld the hire He promised. Dost thou favor Troy for this? Wilt thou not rather act with us until These treaty-breakers, with their children all And their chaste matrons, perish utterly?" Then thus the archer-king, Apollo, spake: "Thou wouldst not deem me wise, should I contend With thee, O Neptune, for the sake of men, Who flourish like the forest-leaves awhile, And feed upon the fruits of earth, and then Decay and perish. Let us quit the field, And leave the combat to the warring hosts." He spake, and turned, afraid to meet in arms His uncle; but the sylvan Dian heard, - His sister, mistress of the beasts that range The wilds, and harshly thus upbraided him:- “O mighty Archer, dost thou flee and yield The victory to Neptune, who bears off A glory cheaply earned? Why dost thou bear That idle bow, thou coxcomb? I shall hope No more to hear thee in our father's halls, And in the presence of the immortals, boast That thou wilt fight with Neptune hand to hand." The archer-god, Apollo, answered not; But thus the imperial wife of Jupiter, Indignantly and with reproachful words, Rebuked the quivered goddess of the chase: - "How is it that thou darest, shameless one, Resist me? Thou wilt find it hard, though trained In archery, to match thy strength with mine, Though Jove has made thee among womankind A lioness, and though he gives thee power To slay whomever of thy sex thou wilt; Yet wilt thou find it easier to strike down The mountain beasts of prey, and forest deer, Than combat with thy betters. If thou choose To try the event of battle, then put forth Thy strength against me, and thou shalt be taught How greatly I excel in might of arm." Thus Juno spake, and grasped in her left hand Both Dian's wrists, and, plucking with her right The quiver from her shoulders, beat with it Her ears, and smiled as under her quick blows The sufferer writhed. To earth the arrows fell, And Dian weeping fled. As when a dove, Not fated to be overtaken yet, Flees from a hawk to find her hiding-place, The hollow rock, so Dian fled in tears, And left her arrows. To Latona, then, Heaven's messenger, the Argus-queller, spake : - "Far be it from me to contend with thee, Latona; perilous it were to meet A consort of the Cloud-compeller, Jove, In combat. Go and freely make thy boast Among the gods that thou hast vanquished me." He spake: Latona gathered from the ground The bow and shafts which in that whirl of dust Had fallen here and there, and, bearing them, Followed her daughter, who meantime had reached Olympus and the brazen halls of Jove. And there, a daughter at her father's knees, She sat her down, while, as she wept, her robe Of heavenly texture trembled. Graciously Jove smiled, and drew her toward him and inquired: "What dweller of the sky has dared do this, Dear child, as though some flagrant guilt were thine? And thus replied the mistress of the chase Crowned with the crescent: "Father, 't was thy queen, The white-armed Juno; she who causes strife And wrath among the gods has done me wrong." So talked they, while to sacred Ilium came Phœbus Apollo; 't was his charge to watch The well-built city's ramparts, lest the Greeks That day should lay it waste against the will Of fate. The other gods went back to heaven, Some angry, some exulting. They sat down Beside the All-Father, him who darkens heaven With gathered clouds. Meantime Achilles chased And slew the Trojans and their firm-paced steeds. As, when the smoke rolls heavenward from a town Given by the angry gods a prey to fire, Toil is the lot of all, and bitter woe The fate of many, such the woe and toil Caused by Achilles to the sons of Troy. The aged Priam from a lofty tower Beheld the large-limbed son of Peleus range The field, and all the Trojans helplessly Fleeing in tumult. With a cry of grief He came from that high station to the ground, And gave commandment to the sturdy men Who stood to watch the gates along the wall: - "Hold the gates open while the flying host Enter the city; for Achilles comes, Routing them, near at hand, and we may see Terrible havoc. But when all our troops Are once within the walls, and breathe again, Shut the close-fitting portals; for I dread Lest that fierce warrior rush into our streets." He spake: they drew the bolts and opened wide The gates, and gave a refuge to the host. Then leaped Apollo forth to meet their flight And rescue them. All faint with burning thirst, And grimed with dust, they hurried o'er the plain, And toward the city and its lofty walls, While eagerly Achilles on their track Pressed with his spear; his heart was full of rage, And all on fire his spirit with desire For glory. Then the Greeks had overthrown The towery Troy, if Phœbus had not moved Agenor, a young hero, nobly born, Blameless, and brave, Antenor's son, to meet Achilles. Phœbus breathed into his heart Courage, as, standing by the youth, he leaned Against a beechen tree, and, wrapped from sight In darkness, watched to rescue him from death. Agenor stood as he beheld approach The mighty spoiler, and, perplexed in mind, Sighed heavily, and said to his great soul: "Ah me! if with the routed troops I flee From fierce Achilles, he will overtake And slay me; I shall die as cowards die. But if I leave the host to be pursued By Peleus' son, and by another way Flee from the wall across the plain, until I reach the lawns of Ida, and am hid Among its thickets, then I may at eve Bathe in the river and return refreshed To Troy. But why give way to thoughts like these? For he may yet observe me as I haste From Ilium o'er the plain, and his swift feet May follow; there will then be no escape From death and fate, since he in might of arm Excels all other men. If now I here Confront him before Troy, I cannot think That he is weapon-proof; one life alone Dwells in him, though Saturnian Jupiter Bestows on him the glory of the day." He spake, and firmly waited for the son Of Peleus; eagerly his fearless heart Longed for the combat. As a panther leaves The covert of the wood and comes to meet A huntsman, nor is scared nor put to flight By noise of baying hounds, not even though A spear's thrust or a javelin flung from far Have wounded him, yet, wounded, he fights on, Until he grapples with his enemy Or perishes, - thus did the noble son Of the renowned Antenor press to try His prowess with Achilles, and disdained To flee before him. Holding his round shield Before his face, and with his lifted spear Aimed at the Greek, he shouted thus aloud: "Renowned Achilles! thou dost fondly hope That thou to-day wilt overthrow the town Of the magnanimous Trojans. Many toils, Thou fool! must be endured ere that can be; For we are many and are brave who dwell Within it, and shall well defend the town For our beloved parents and our wives And little ones. Here shalt thou meet thy doom, Brave as thou art, and terrible in war." As thus he spake, his powerful hand dismissed The keen-edged spear, nor missed his aim; it struck The son of Peleus just below the knee. The tin of which the greave was newly forged Rang shrilly, and sent back the brazen point; It could not pierce the armor which a god Had given. And then the son of Peleus aimed His weapon at Agenor. Phœbus came And snatched away his triumph, bearing off The godlike youth, Agenor, in a veil Of darkness from the perils of the war. Then he decoyed Achilles from the host Of Troy; the archer of the skies put on Agenor's perfect semblance, and appeared Before the Greek, and fled; his hasty flight Was followed close. Achilles chased the god Ever before him, yet still near, across The fruitful fields, to the deep-eddied stream Of Xanthus; for Apollo artfully Made it to seem that he should soon o'ertake His flying foe, and thus beguiled him on. Meantime the routed Trojans gladly thronged Into the city, filled the streets, and closed The portals. None now dared without the walls To wait for others, or remain to know Who had escaped with life, and who were slain In battle; eagerly they flung themselves Into the city, - every one whose feet And knees had borne him from the field alive.
BOOK XXII. THUS were they driven within the city walls Like frighted fawns, and there dispersing cooled Their sweaty limbs, and quenched their eager thirst, And rested on the battlements. The Greeks, Bearing their shields upon their shoulders, came Close to the ramparts. Hector's adverse fate Detained him still without the walls of Troy, And near the Scæan gates. Meantime the god Apollo to the son of Peleus said: "O son of Peleus! why pursue me thus With thy swift feet, - a mortal man in chase Of an immortal? That I am a god Thou seest not yet, but turnest all thy rage On me, and, having put the host of Troy To rout, dost think of them no more. They find A refuge in their town, while far astray Thou wanderest hither. Thou hast not the power To slay me; I am not of mortal birth." The swift Achilles angrily replied: "O archer-god, thou most unjust of all The immortals! thou hast wronged me, luring me Aside; since many a warrior I had forced To bite the dust before they reached the gates Of Ilium but for thee, who from my grasp Hast snatched the glory and hast rescued them. Thou didst not fear my vengeance; yet if power Were given me, I would punish thee for this." He spake, and with heroic purpose turned Toward Ilium. As a steed that wins the race Flies at his utmost speed across the plain, And whirls along the chariot, with such speed The son of Peleus moved his rapid feet. The aged monarch Priam was the first To see him as he scoured the plain, and shone Like to the star which in the autumn time Rises and glows among the lights of heaven With eminent lustre at the dead of night, - Orion's Hound they call it, bright indeed, And yet of baleful omen, for it brings Distressing heat to miserable men. So shone the brass upon the warrior's breast As on he flew. The aged Priam groaned, And smote his head with lifted hands, and called Aloud, imploring his beloved son, Who eagerly before the city gate Waited his foe Achilles. Priam thus, With outstretched hands, besought him piteously: - "O wait not, Hector, my beloved son, To combat with Pelides, thus alone And far from succor, lest thou meet thy death Slain by his hand, for he is mightier far Than thou art. Would that he, the cruel one, Were but as much the favorite of the gods As he is mine! then should the birds of prey And dogs devour his carcass, and the grief That weighs upon my spirit would depart. I have been robbed by him of many sons, - Brave youths, whom he has slain or sold as slaves In distant isles; and now I see no more Among our host on whom the gates are closed My Polydorus and Lycaon, whom The peerless dame Laothoë bore to me. If yet they are within the Grecian camp, I will redeem their lives with brass and gold; For I have store, which Altes, the renowned And aged, gave his daughter. If they live No longer, but have passed to the abode Of Hades, bitter will our sorrow be, - Mine and their mother's, - but the popular grief Will sooner be consoled if thou fall not, Slain by Achilles. Come within the walls, My son, that thou mayst still be the defence Of Ilium's sons and daughters, nor increase The glory of Pelides with the loss Of thine own life. Have pity upon me, Who only live to suffer, - whom the son Of Saturn, on the threshold of my age, Hath destined to endure a thousand griefs, And then to be destroyed, -to see my sons Slain by the sword, my daughters dragged away Into captivity, their chambers made A spoil, our infants dashed against the ground By cruel hands, the consorts of my sons Borne off by the ferocious Greeks; and last, Perchance the very dogs which I have fed Here in my palaces and at my board, The guardians of my doors, when, by the spear Or sword, some enemy shall take my life, And at my threshold leave me stretched a corpse, Will rend me, and, with savage greediness, Will lap my blood, and in the porch lie down. When one in prime of youth lies slain in war, Gashed with the spear, his wounds become him well, And honor him in all men's eyes; but when An aged man is slain, and his white head And his white beard and limbs are foully torn By ravening dogs, there is no sadder sight." So the old monarch spake, and with his hands Tore his gray hair, but moved not Hector thus. Then came, with lamentations and in tears, The warrior's mother forward. One hand laid Her bosom bare; she pressed the other hand Beneath it, sobbed, and spake these wingèd words:- "Revere this bosom, Hector, and on me Have pity. If when thou wert but a babe I ever on this bosom stilled thy cries, Think of it now, beloved child; avoid That dreadful chief; withdraw within the walls, Nor madly think to encounter him alone, Son of my love and of my womb! If he Should slay thee, I shall not lament thy death Above thy bier, - I, nor thy noble wife, - But far from us the greedy dogs will throng To mangle thee beside the Grecian fleet." Thus, weeping bitterly, the aged pair Entreated their dear son, yet moved him not. He stood and waited for his mighty foe Achilles, as a serpent at his den, Fed on the poisons of the wild, awaits The traveller, and, fierce with hate of man, And glaring fearfully, lies coiled within. So waited Hector with a resolute heart, And kept his ground, and, leaning his bright shield Against a tower that jutted from the walls, Conferred with his great soul impatiently: — "Ah me! if I should pass within the walls, Then will Polydamas be first to cast Reproach upon me; for he counselled me To lead the Trojans back into the town That fatal night which saw Achilles rise To join the war again. I yielded not To his advice; far better if I had. Now, since my fatal stubbornness has brought This ruin on my people, I most dread The censure of the men and long-robed dames Of Ilium. Men less brave than I will say, 'Foolhardy Hector in his pride has thrown His people's lives away. So will they speak, And better were it for me to return, Achilles slain, or, slain myself by him, To perish for my country gloriously. But should I lay aside this bossy shield And this stout helm, and lean against the wall This spear, and go to meet the gallant son Of Peleus, with a promise to restore Helen and all the treasure brought with her To Troy by Paris, in his roomy ships, — All that the war was waged for, - that the sons Of Atreus may convey it hence, besides Wealth drawn from all the hoards within the town, And to be shared among the Greeks; for I Would bind the Trojans by a solemn oath To keep back nothing, but divide the whole- Whate'er of riches this fair town contains Into two parts - But why should I waste thought On plans like these? I must not act the part Of suppliant to a man who may not show Regard or mercy, but may hew me down Defenceless, with my armor laid aside As if I were a woman. Not with him May I hold parley from a tree or rock, As youths and maidens with each other hold Light converse. Better 't were to rush at once To combat, and the sooner learn to whom Olympian Jove decrees the victory." Such were his thoughts. Achilles now drew near. Like crested Mars, the warrior-god, he came. On his right shoulder quivered fearfully The Pelian ash, and from his burnished mail There streamed a light as of a blazing fire, Or of the rising sun. When Hector saw, He trembled, nor could venture to remain, But left the gates and fled away in fear. Pelides, trusting to his rapid feet, Pursued him. As, among the mountain wilds, A falcon, fleetest of the birds of air, Darts toward a timid dove that wheels away To shun him by a sidelong flight, while he Springs after her again and yet again, And screaming follows, certain of his prey, Thus onward flew Achilles, while as fast Fled Hector in dismay, with hurrying feet, Beside the wall. They passed the Mount of View, And the wind-beaten fig-tree, and they ran Along the public way by which the wall Was skirted, till they came where from the ground The two fair springs of eddying Xanthus rise, — One pouring a warm stream from which ascends And spreads a vapor like a smoke from fire; The other, even in summer, sending forth A current cold as hail, or snow, or ice. And there were broad stone basins, fairly wrought, At which, in time of peace, before the Greeks Had landed on the plain, the Trojan dames And their fair daughters washed their sumptuous robes. Past these they swept; one fled, and one pursued, - A brave man fled, a braver followed close, And swiftly both. Not for a common prize, A victim from the herd, a bullock's hide, Such as reward the fleet of foot, they ran, - The race was for the knightly Hector's life. As firm-paced coursers, that are wont to win, Fly toward the goal, when some magnificent prize, A tripod or a damsel, is proposed In honor of some hero's obsequies, So these flew thrice on rapid feet around The city of Priam. All the gods of heaven Looked on, and thus the Almighty Father spake:- "Alas! I see a hero dear to me Pursued around the wall. My heart is grieved For Hector, who has brought so many thighs Of bullocks to my altar on the side Of Ida ploughed with glens, or on the heights Of Ilium. The renowned Achilles now Is chasing him with rapid feet around The city of Priam. Now bethink yourselves, And answer. Shall we rescue him from death? Or shall we doom him, valiant as he is, To perish by the hand of Peleus' son?" Minerva, blue-eyed goddess, answered thus: "O Father, who dost hurl the thunderbolt, And hide the sky in clouds, what hast thou said? Wouldst thou reprieve from death a mortal man, Whose doom is fixed? Then do it; but know this, That all the other gods will not approve." Then spake again the Cloud-compeller Jove: "Tritonia, my dear child, be calm. I spake Of no design. I would be kind to thee. Do as thou wilt, and be there no delay." He spake; and Pallas from the Olympian peaks, Encouraged by his words in what her thought Had planned already, downward shot to earth. Still, with quick steps, the fleet Achilles pressed On Hector's flight. As when a hound has roused A fawn from its retreat among the hills, And chases it through glen and forest ground, And to close thickets, where it skulks in fear Until he overtake it, Hector thus Sought vainly to elude the fleet pursuit Of Peleus' son. As often as he thought, By springing toward the gates of Troy, to gain Aid from the weapons of his friends who stood On the tall towers, so often was the Greek Before him, forcing him to turn away From Ilium toward the plain. Achilles thus Kept nearest to the city. As in dreams The fleet pursuer cannot overtake, Nor the pursued escape, so was it now; One followed but in vain, the other fled As fruitlessly. But how could Hector thus Have put aside the imminent doom of death, Had not Apollo met him once again, For the last time, and given him strength and speed? The great Achilles nodded to his host A sign that no man should presume to strike At Hector with his weapon, lest perchance Another, wounding him, should bear away The glory, and Pelides only wear The second honors. When the twain had come For the fourth time beside Scamander's springs, The All-Father raised the golden balance high, And, placing in the scales two lots which bring Death's long dark sleep, - one lot for Peleus' son, And one for knightly Hector, - by the midst He poised the balance. Hector's fate sank down To Hades, and Apollo left the field. The blue-eyed goddess Pallas then approached The son of Peleus with these wingèd words:- "Renowned Achilles, dear to Jupiter! Now may we, as I hope, at last return To the Achaian army and the fleet With glory, Hector slain, the terrible In war. Escape he cannot, even though The archer-god Apollo fling himself With passionate entreaty at the feet Of Jove the Ægis-bearer. Stay thou here And breathe a moment, while I go to him And lure him hither to encounter thee." She spake, and he obeyed, and gladly stood Propped on the ashen stem of his keen spear; While, passing on, Minerva overtook The noble Hector. In the outward form, And with the strong voice of Deiphobus, She stood by him and spake these wingèd words:- "Hard pressed I find thee, brother, by the swift Achilles, who, with feet that never rest, Pursues thee round the walls of Priam's town. But let us make a stand and beat him back." And then the crested Hector spake in turn: "Deiphobus, thou ever hast been dear To me beyond my other brethren, sons Of Hecuba and Priam. Now still more I honor thee, since thou hast seen my plight, And for my sake hast ventured forth without The gates, while all the rest remain within." And then the blue-eyed Pallas spake again: "Brother! 't is true, my father, and the queen, My mother, and my comrades, clasped my knees In turn, and earnestly entreated me That I would not go forth, such fear had fallen On all of them; but I was grieved for thee. Now let us combat valiantly, nor spare The weapons that we bear, and we shall learn Whether Achilles, having slain us both, Will carry to the fleet our bloody spoil, Or die himself, the victim of thy spear." The treacherous goddess spake, and led the way; And when the advancing chiefs stood face to face, The crested hero, Hector, thus began : - "No longer I avoid thee as of late, O son of Peleus! Thrice around the walls Of Priam's mighty city have I fled, Nor dared to wait thy coming. Now my heart Bids me encounter thee; my time is come To slay or to be slain. Now let us call The gods to witness, who attest and guard The covenants of men. Should Jove bestow On me the victory, and I take thy life, Thou shalt meet no dishonor at my hands; But, stripping off the armor, I will send The Greeks thy body. Do the like by me." The swift Achilles answered with a frown: "Accursed Hector, never talk to me Of covenants. Men and lions plight no faith, Nor wolves agree with lambs, but each must plan Evil against the other. So between Thyself and me no compact can exist, Or understood intent. First, one of us Must fall and yield his life-blood to the god Of battles. Summon all thy valor now. A skilful spearman thou hast need to be, And a bold warrior. There is no escape, For now doth Pallas doom thee to be slain By my good spear. Thou shalt repay to me The evil thou hast done my countrymen, - My friends whom thou hast slaughtered in thy rage." He spake, and, brandishing his massive spear, Hurled it at Hector, who beheld its aim From where he stood. He stooped, and over him The brazen weapon passed, and plunged to earth. Unseen by royal Hector, Pallas went And plucked it from the ground, and brought it back And gave it to the hands of Peleus' son, While Hector said to his illustrious foe: - "Godlike Achilles, thou hast missed thy mark; Nor hast thou learned my doom from Jupiter, As thou pretendest. Thou art glib of tongue, And cunningly thou orderest thy speech, In hope that I who hear thee may forget My might and valor. Think not I shall flee, That thou mayst pierce my back; for thou shalt send Thy spear, if God permit thee, through my breast As I rush on thee. Now avoid in turn My brazen weapon. Would that it might pass Clean through thee, all its length! The tasks of war For us of Troy were lighter for thy death, Thou pest and deadly foe of all our race!" He spake, and, brandishing his massive spear, Hurled it, nor missed, but in the centre smote The buckler of Pelides. Far away It bounded from the brass, and he was vexed To see that the swift weapon from his hand Had flown in vain. He stood perplexed and sad; No second spear had he. He called aloud On the white-bucklered chief, Deiphobus, To bring another; but that chief was far, And Hector saw that it was so, and said: "Ah me! the gods have summoned me to die. I thought my warrior-friend, Deiphobus, Was by my side; but he is still in Troy, And Pallas has deceived me. Now my death Cannot be far, - is near; there is no hope Of my escape, for so it pleases Jove And Jove's great archer-son, who have till now Delivered me. My hour at last is come; Yet not ingloriously or passively I die, but first will do some valiant deed, Of which mankind shall hear in after time." He spake, and drew the keen-edged sword that hung, Massive and finely tempered, at his side, And sprang - as when an eagle high in heaven, Through the thick cloud, darts downward to the plain To clutch some tender lamb or timid hare, So Hector, brandishing that keen-edged sword, Sprang forward, while Achilles opposite Leaped toward him, all on fire with savage hate, And holding his bright buckler, nobly wrought, Before him. On his shining helmet waved The fourfold crest; there tossed the golden tufts With which the hand of Vulcan lavishly Had decked it. As in the still hours of night Hesper goes forth among the host of stars, The fairest light of heaven, so brightly shone, Brandished in the right hand of Peleus' son, The spear's keen blade, as, confident to slay The noble Hector, o'er his glorious form His quick eye ran, exploring where to plant The surest wound. The glittering mail of brass Won from the slain Patroclus guarded well Each part, save only where the collar-bones Divide the shoulder from the neck, and there Appeared the throat, the spot where life is most In peril. Through that part the noble son Of Peleus drave his spear; it went quite through The tender neck, and yet the brazen blade Cleft not the windpipe, and the power to speak Remained. The Trojan fell amid the dust, And thus Achilles boasted o'er his fall: - "Hector, when from the slain Patroclus thou Didst strip his armor, little didst thou think Of danger. Thou hadst then no fear of me, Who was not near thee to avenge his death. Fool! there was left within the roomy ships A mightier one than he, who should come forth, The avenger of his blood, to take thy life. Foul dogs and birds of prey shall tear thy flesh; The Greeks shall honor him with funeral rites." And then the crested Hector faintly said: "I pray thee by thy life, and by thy knees, And by thy parents, suffer not the dogs To tear me at the galleys of the Greeks. Accept abundant store of brass and gold, Which gladly will my father and the queen, My mother, give in ransom. Send to them My body, that the warriors and the dames Of Troy may light for me the funeral pile." The swift Achilles answered with a frown: "Nay, by my knees entreat me not, thou cur, Nor by my parents. I could even wish My fury prompted me to cut thy flesh In fragments, and devour it, such the wrong That I have had from thee. There will be none To drive away the dogs about thy head, Not though thy Trojan friends should bring to me Tenfold and twenty-fold the offered gifts, And promise others, - not though Priam, sprung From Dardanus, should send thy weight in gold. Thy mother shall not lay thee on thy bier, To sorrow over thee whom she brought forth; But dogs and birds of prey shall mangle thee." And then the crested Hector, dying, said: "I know thee, and too clearly I foresaw I should not move thee, for thou hast a heart Of iron. Yet reflect that for my sake The anger of the gods may fall on thee, When Paris and Apollo strike thee down, Strong as thou art, before the Scæan gates." Thus Hector spake, and straightway o'er him closed The night of death; the soul forsook his limbs, And flew to Hades, grieving for its fate, - So soon divorced from youth and youthful might. Then said the great Achilles to the dead: - "Die thou; and I, whenever it shall please Jove and the other gods will meet my fate." He spake, and, plucking forth his brazen lance, He laid it by, and from the body stripped The bloody mail. The thronging Greeks beheld With wonder Hector's tall and stately form, And no one came who did not add a wound; And, looking to each other, thus they said: — "How much more tamely Hector now endures Our touch than when he set the fleet on fire!" Such were the words of those who smote the dead; But now, when swift Achilles from the corpse Had stripped the armor, he stood forth among The Achaian host, and spake these wingèd words: - "Leaders and princes of the Grecian host! Since we, my friends, by favor of the gods, Have overcome the chief who wrought more harm To us than all the rest, let us assault The town, and learn what they of Troy intend, - Whether their troops will leave the citadel Since he is slain, or hold it with strong hand, Though Hector is no more. But why give thought To plans like these while yet Patroclus lies A corse unwept, unburied, at the fleet? I never will forget him while I live And while these limbs have motion. Though below In Hades they forget the dead, yet I Will there remember my beloved friend. Now then, ye youths of Greece, move on and chant A pæan, while, returning to the fleet, We bring great glory with us; we have slain The noble Hector, whom, throughout their town, The Trojans ever worshipped like a god." He spake, and, planning in his mind to treat The noble Hector shamefully, he bored The sinews of his feet between the heel And ankle; drawing through them leathern thongs He bound them to the car, but left the head To trail in dust. And then he climbed the car, Took in the shining mail, and lashed to speed The coursers. Not unwillingly they flew. Around the dead, as he was dragged along, The dust arose; his dark locks swept the ground. That head, of late so noble in men's eyes, Lay deep amid the dust, for Jove that day Suffered the foes of Hector to insult His corse in his own land. His mother saw, And tore her hair, and flung her lustrous veil Away, and uttered piercing shrieks. No less His father, who so loved him, piteously Bewailed him; and in all the streets of Troy The people wept aloud, with such lament As if the towery Ilium were in flames Even to its loftiest roofs. They scarce could keep The aged king within, who, wild with grief, Struggled to rush through the Dardanian gates, And, rolling in the dust, entreated all Who stood around him, calling them by name :- "Refrain, my friends, though kind be your intent. Let me go forth alone, and at the fleet Of Greece will I entreat this man of blood And violence. He may perchance be moved With reverence for my age, and pity me In my gray hairs; for such a one as I Is Peleus, his own father, by whose care This Greek was reared to be a scourge to Troy, And, more than all, a cause of grief to me, So many sons of mine in life's fresh prime Have fallen by his hand. I mourn for them, But not with such keen anguish as I mourn For Hector. Sorrow for his death will bring My soul to Hades. Would that he had died Here in my arms! this solace had been ours, — His most unhappy mother and myself Had stooped to shed these tears upon his bier." He spake, and wept, and all the citizens Wept with him. Hecuba among the dames Took up the lamentation, and began :- "Why do I live, my son, when thou art dead, And I so wretched? - thou who wert my boast Ever, by night and day, where'er I went, And whom the Trojan men and matrons called Their bulwark, honoring thee as if thou wert A god. They glory in thy might no more, Since Fate and Death have overtaken thee." Weeping she spake. Meantime Andromache Had heard no tidings of her husband yet. No messenger had even come to say That he was still without the gates. She sat In a recess of those magnificent halls, And wove a twofold web of brilliant hues, On which were scattered flowers of rare device; And she had given her bright-haired maidens charge To place an ample caldron on the fire, That Hector, coming from the battle-field, Might find the warm bath ready. Thoughtless one! She knew not that the blue-eyed archer-queen, Far from the bath prepared for him, had slain Her husband by the hand of Peleus' son. She heard the shrieks, the wail upon the tower, Trembled in every limb, and quickly dropped The shuttle, saying to her bright-haired maids: - "Come with me, two of you, that I may learn What now has happened. 'T is my mother's voice That I have heard. My heart leaps to my mouth; My limbs fail under me. Some deadly harm Hangs over Priam's sons; far be the hour When I shall hear of it. And yet I fear Lest that Achilles, having got between The daring Hector and the city gates, May drive him to the plain alone, and quell The desperate valor that was ever his; For never would he keep the ranks, but ranged Beyond them, and gave way to no man's might." She spake, and from the royal mansion rushed Distractedly, and with a beating heart. Her maids went with her. When she reached the tower And throng of men, and, standing on the wall, Looked forth, she saw her husband dragged away Before the city. Toward the Grecian fleet The swift steeds drew him. Sudden darkness came Over her eyes, and in a breathless swoon She sank away and fell. The ornaments Dropped from her brow, - the wreath, the woven band, The net, the veil which golden Venus gave That day when crested Hector wedded her, Dowered with large gifts, and led her from her home, Eetion's palace. Round her in a throng Her sisters of the house of Priam pressed, And gently raised her in that deathlike swoon. But when she breathed again, and to its seat The conscious mind returned, as in their arms She lay, with sobs and broken speech she said: - "Hector, - O wretched me! - we both were born To sorrow; thou at Troy, in Priam's house, And I at Thebe in Eetion's halls, By woody Placos. From a little child He reared me there, - unhappy he, and I Unhappy! O that I had ne'er been born! Thou goest down to Hades and the depths Of earth, and leavest me in thine abode, Widowed, and never to be comforted. Thy son, a speechless babe, to whom we two Gave being, - hapless parents! - cannot have Thy loving guardianship now thou art dead, Nor be a joy to thee. Though he survive The cruel warfare which the sons of Greece Are waging, hard and evil yet will be His lot hereafter; others will remove His landmarks and will make his fields their own. The day in which a boy is fatherless Makes him companionless; with downcast eyes He wanders, and his cheeks are stained with tears. Unfed he goes where sit his father's friends, And plucks one by the cloak, and by the robe Another. One who pities him shall give A scanty draught, which only wets his lips, But not his palate; while another boy, Whose parents both are living, thrusts him thence With blows and vulgar clamor: 'Get thee gone! Thy father is not with us at the feast.' Then to his widowed mother shall return Astyanax in tears, who not long since Was fed, while sitting in his father's lap, On marrow and the delicate fat of lambs. And ever when his childish sports had tired The boy, and sleep came stealing over him, He slumbered, softly cushioned, on a couch And in his nurse's arms, his heart at ease And satiate with delights. But now thy son Astyanax, - whom so the Trojans name Because thy valor guarded gate and tower, - Thy care withdrawn, shall suffer many things. While far from those who gave thee birth, beside The roomy ships of Greece, the restless worms Shall make thy flesh their banquet when the dogs Have gorged themselves. Thy garments yet remain Within the palace, delicately wrought And graceful, woven by the women's hands; And these, since thou shalt put them on no more, Nor wear them in thy death, I burn with fire Before the Trojan men and dames; and all Shall see how gloriously thou wert arrayed." Weeping she spake, and with her wept her maids.
BOOK XXIII. So mourned they in the city; but the Greeks, When they had reached the fleet and Hellespont, Dispersed, repairing each one to his ship, Save that Achilles suffered not his band Of Myrmidons to part in disarray. And thus the chief enjoined his warrior friends:- “Myrmidons, gallant knights, my cherished friends! Let us not yet unyoke our firm-paced steeds, But bring them with the chariots, and bewail Patroclus with the honors due the dead, And, when we have indulged in grief, release Our steeds and take our evening banquet here." He spake, and led by him the host broke forth In lamentation. Thrice around the dead, Weeping, they drave their steeds with stately manes, While Thetis in their hearts awoke the sense Of hopeless loss; their tears bedewed the sands, And dropped upon their arms, so brave was he For whom they sorrowed. Peleus' son began The mourning; on the breast of his dead friend He placed his homicidal hands, and said: - "Hail thou, Patroclus, even amid the shades! For now shall I perform what once I vowed: That, dragging Hector hither, I will give His corse to dogs, and they shall rend his flesh; And at thy funeral pile there shall be slain Twelve noble Trojan youths, to avenge thy death." So spake he, meditating outrages To noble Hector's corse, which he had flung Beside the bier of Menœtiades, Amid the dust. The Myrmidons unbraced Their shining brazen armor, and unyoked Their neighing steeds, and sat in thick array Beside the ship of swift Eacides, While he set forth a sumptuous funeral feast. Many a white ox, that day, beneath the axe Fell to the earth, and many bleating goats And sheep were slain, and many fattened swine, White-toothed, were stretched to roast before the flame Of Vulcan, and around the corse the earth Floated with blood. Meantime the Grecian chiefs To noble Agamemnon's royal tent Led the swift son of Peleus, though he went Unwillingly, such anger for the death Of his companion burned within his heart. As soon as they had reached his tent, the king Bade the clear-throated heralds o'er the fire Place a huge tripod, that Pelides there Might wash away the bloody stains he bore. Yet would he not, and with an oath replied: - "No! by the greatest and the best of gods, By Jupiter, I may not plunge my head Into the bath before I lay my friend Patroclus on the fire, and heap his mound, And till my hair is shorn; for never more In life will be so great a sorrow mine. But now attend we to this mournful feast. And with the morn, O king of men, command That wood be brought, and all things duly done Which may beseem a warrior who goes down Into the lower darkness. Let the flames Seize fiercely and consume him from our sight, And leave the people to the tasks of war." He spake; they hearkened and obeyed, and all Prepared with diligent hands the meal, and each Sat down and took his portion of the feast. And when their thirst and hunger were allayed, Most to their tents betook them and to rest. But Peleus' son, lamenting bitterly, Lay down among his Myrmidons, beside The murmuring ocean, in the open space, Where plashed the billows on the beach. And there, When slumber, bringing respite from his cares, Came softly and enfolded him, - for much His shapely limbs were wearied with the chase Of Hector round the windy Ilium's walls, - The soul of his poor friend Patroclus came, Like him in all things, - stature, beautiful eyes, And voice, and garments which he wore in life. Beside his head the vision stood and spake: - "Achilles, sleepest thou, forgetting me? Never of me unmindful in my life, Thou dost neglect me dead. O, bury me Quickly, and give me entrance through the gates Of Hades; for the souls, the forms of those Who live no more, repulse me, suffering not That I should join their company beyond The river, and I now must wander round The spacious portals of the House of Death. Give me thy hand, I pray; for never more Shall I return to earth when once the fire Shall have consumed me. Never shall we take Counsel together, living, as we sit Apart from our companions; the hard fate Appointed me at birth hath drawn me down. Thou too, O godlike man, wilt fall beneath The ramparts of the noble sons of Troy. Yet this I ask, and if thou wilt obey, This I command thee, - not to let my bones Be laid apart from thine. As we were reared Under thy roof together, from the time When first Menœtius brought thee, yet a boy, From Opus, where I caused a sorrowful death ; — For by my hand, when wrangling at the dice, Another boy, son of Amphidamas, Was slain without design, - and Peleus made His halls my home, and reared me tenderly, And made me thy companion; - so at last May one receptacle, the golden vase Given by thy gracious mother, hold our bones." The swift Achilles answered: "O most loved And honored, wherefore, art thou come, and why Dost thou command me thus? I shall fulfil Obediently thy wish; yet draw thou near, And let us give at least a brief embrace, And so indulge our grief." He said, and stretched His longing arms to clasp the shade. In vain; Away like smoke it went, with gibbering cry, Down to the earth. Achilles sprang upright, Astonished, clapped his hands, and sadly said: - "Surely there dwell within the realm below Both soul and form, though bodiless. All night Hath stood the spirit of my hapless friend Patroclus near me, sad and sorrowful, And asking many duties at my hands, A marvellous semblance of the living man." He spake, and moved the hearts of all to grief And lamentation. Rosy-fingered Morn Dawned on them as around the hapless dead They stood and wept. Then Agamemnon sent In haste from all the tents the mules and men To gather wood, and summoned to the task Meriones, himself a gallant chief, Attendant on the brave Idomeneus. These went with woodmen's axes and with ropes Well twisted, and before them went the mules. O'er steep, o'er glen, by straight, by winding ways, They journeyed till they reached the woodland wilds Of Ida fresh with springs, and quickly felled With the keen steel the towering oaks that came Crashing to earth. Then, splitting the great trunks, They bound them on the mules, that beat the earth With hasty footsteps through the tangled wood, Impatient for the plain. Each woodcutter Shouldered a tree, for so Meriones, Companion of the brave Idomeneus, Commanded, and at last they laid them down In order on the shore, where Peleus' son Planned that a mighty sepulchre should rise Both for his friend Patroclus and himself. So brought they to the spot vast heaps of wood, And sat them down, a numerous crowd. But then Achilles bade his valiant Myrmidons Put on their brazen mail and yoke their steeds. At once they rose, and put their harness on, And they who fought from chariots climbed their seats With those who reined the steeds. These led the van, And after them a cloud of men on foot By thousands followed. In the midst was borne Patroclus by his comrades. Cutting off Their hair, they strewed it, covering the dead. Behind the corpse, Achilles in his hands Sustained the head, and wept, for on that day He gave to Hades his most cherished friend. Now when they reached the spot which Peleus' son Had chosen, they laid down the dead, and piled The wood around him, while the swift of foot, The great Achilles, bent on other thoughts, Standing apart, cut off his amber hair, Which for the river Sperchius he had long Nourished to ample growth, and, sighing, turned His eyes upon the dark-blue sea, and said: "Sperchius, in vain my father made a vow That I, returning to my native shore, Should bring my hair, an offering to thee, And slay a consecrated hecatomb, And burn a sacrifice of fifty rams, Beside the springs where in a sacred field Thy fragrant altar stands. Such was the vow Made by the aged man, yet hast thou not Fulfilled his wish. And now, since I no more Shall see my native land, the land I love, Let the slain hero bear these locks away." He spake, and in his dear companion's hands He placed the hair, and all around were moved To deeper grief; the setting sun had left The host lamenting, had not Peleus' son Addressed Atrides, standing at his side: - “Atrides, thou whose word the Greeks obey Most readily, all mourning has an end. Dismiss the people from the pyre to take Their evening meal, while we with whom it rests To pay these mournful duties to the dead Will close the rites; but let the chiefs remain." This when the monarch Agamemnon heard, Instantly he dismissed to their good ships The people. They who had the dead in charge Remained, and heaped the wood, and built a pyre A hundred feet each way from side to side. With sorrowful hearts they raised and laid the corse Upon the summit. Then they flayed and dressed Before it many fatlings of the flock, And oxen with curved feet and crooked horns. From these magnanimous Achilles took The fat, and covered with it carefully The dead from head to foot. Beside the bier, And leaning toward it, jars of honey and oil He placed, and flung, with many a deep-drawn sigh, Twelve high-necked steeds upon the pile. Nine hounds There were, which from the table of the prince Were daily fed; of these Achilles struck The heads from two, and laid them on the wood, And after these, and last, twelve gallant sons Of the brave Trojans, butchered by the sword; For he was bent on evil. To the pile He put the iron violence of fire, And, wailing, called by name the friend he loved :- "Rejoice, Patroclus, even in the land Of souls. Lo! I perform the vow I made; Twelve gallant sons of the brave men of Troy The fire consumes with thee. For Hector's corse, The flames shall not devour it, but the dogs." Such was his threat; but Hector was not made The prey of dogs, for Venus, born to Jove, Drave off by night and day the ravenous tribe, And with a rosy and ambrosial oil Anointed him, that he might not be torn When dragged along the earth. Above the spot, And all around it, where the body lay, Phœbus Apollo drew a veil of clouds Reaching from heaven, that on his limbs the flesh And sinews might not stiffen in the sun. The flame seized not upon the funeral pile Of the dead chief. Pelides, swift of foot, Bethought him of another rite. He stood Apart, and offered vows to the two winds, Boreas and Zephyr. Promising to bring Fair offerings to their shrines, and pouring out Libations from a golden cup, he prayed That they would haste and wrap the pile in flames, And burn the dead to ashes. At his prayer Fleet Iris on a message to the Winds Took instant wing. They sat within the halls Of murmuring Zephyr, at a solemn feast. There Iris lighted on the threshold-stone. As soon as they beheld her, each arose And bade her sit beside him. She refused To seat her at the banquet, and replied: - "Not now; for I again must take my way Over the ocean currents to the land Where dwell the Æthiopians, who adore The gods with hecatombs, to take my share Of sacrifice. Achilles supplicates, With promise of munificent offerings, Boreas and sounding Zephyrus to come And blow the funeral structure into flames On which, bewailed by all the Grecian host, Patroclus lies, and waits to be consumed." So spake she, and departed. Suddenly Arose the Winds with tumult, driving on The clouds before them. Soon they reached the deep; Beneath the violence of their sounding breath The billows heaved. They swept the fertile fields Of Troas, and descended on the pyre, And mightily it blazed with fearful roar. All night they howled and tossed the flames. All night Stood swift Achilles, holding in his hand A double beaker; from a golden jar He dipped the wine, and poured it forth, and steeped The earth around, and called upon the soul Of his unhappy friend. As one laments A newly married son upon whose corse The flames are feeding, and whose death has made His parents wretched, so did Peleus' son, Burning the body of his comrade, mourn, As round the pyre he moved with frequent sighs. Now when the star that ushers in the day Appeared, and after it the morning, clad In saffron robes, had overspread the sea, The pyre sank wasted, and the flames arose No longer, and the winds, departing, flew Homeward across the Thracian sea, which tossed And roared with swollen billows as they went. And now Pelides from the pyre apart Weary lay down, and gentle slumber soon Came stealing over him. Meantime the Greeks Gathered round Agamemnon, and the stir And bustle of their coming woke the chief, Who sat upright and thus addressed his friends:- "Atrides, and ye other well-armed Greeks, Our task is, first to quench the pyre With dark red wine where'er the flames have spread, And next to gather, with discerning care, The bones of Menetiades. And these May well be known; for in the middle space He lay, and round about him, and apart Upon the border, were the rest consumed, - The bodies of the captives and the steeds. Be his enclosed within a golden vase, And wrapped around with caul, a double fold, Till I too pass into the realm of Death. And be a tomb not over-spacious reared, But of becoming size, which afterward Ye whom we leave behind in our good ships, When we are gone, will build more broad and high." So spake the swift Pelides, and the chiefs Complied; and first they quenched with dark red wine The pyre, where'er the flames had spread, and where Lay the deep ashes; then, with many tears, Gathered the white bones of their gentle friend, And laid them in a golden vase, wrapped round With caul, a double fold. Within the tents They placed them softly, wrapped in delicate lawn, Then drew a circle for the sepulchre, And, laying its foundations to enclose The pyre, they heaped the earth, and, having reared A mound, withdrew. Achilles yet detained The multitude, and made them all sit down, A vast assembly. From the ships he brought The prizes, - caldrons, tripods, steeds, and mules, Oxen in sturdy pairs, and graceful maids, And shining steel. Then for the swiftest steeds A princely prize he offered first, - a maid Of peerless form, and skilled in household arts, And a two-handled tripod of a size For two-and-twenty measures. He gave out The second prize, -a mare unbroken yet, Of six years old, and pregnant with a mule. For the third winner in the race he staked A caldron that had never felt the fire, Holding four measures, beautiful, and yet Untarnished. For the fourth, he offered gold, Two talents. For the fifth, and last, remained A double vessel never touched by fire. He rose and stood, and thus addressed the Greeks: - "Atrides, and ye other well-armed Greeks, These prizes lie within the chariot-course, And wait the charioteers. Were but these games In honor of another, then would I Contend, and win and carry to my tent The first among these prizes. For my steeds, Ye know, surpass the rest in speed, since they Are of immortal birth, by Neptune given To Peleus, and by him in turn bestowed On me his son. But I and they will keep Aloof; they miss their skilful charioteer, Who washed in limpid water from the fount Their manes, and moistened them with softening oil. And now they mourn their friend, and sadly stand With drooping heads and manes that touch the ground. Let such of you as trust in their swift steeds And their strong cars prepare to join the games." Pelides spake: the abler charioteers Arose, and, first of all, the king of men, Eumelus, eminent in horsemanship, The dear son of Admetus. Then arose The valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed, And led beneath the yoke the Trojan steeds Won from Æneas when Apollo saved That chief from death. The son of Atreus next, The noble Menelaus, yellow-haired, Brought two swift coursers underneath the yoke, King Agamemnon's Æthe, and with her His own Podargus. Echepolus once, Anchises' son, sent Æthe as a gift To Agamemnon, that he might be free From following with the army to the heights Of Ilium, and enjoy the ease he loved; For Jove had given him wealth, and he abode On Sicyon's plains. Now, eager for the race, She took the yoke. Antilochus, the fourth, The gallant son of the magnanimous king, Neleian Nestor, harnessed next his steeds With stately manes. Swift coursers that were foaled At Pylus drew his chariot. To his side His father came and stood, and spake and gave Wise counsels, though the youth himself was wise: - "Antilochus, I cannot doubt that Jove And Neptune both have loved thee, teaching thee, Young as thou art, all feats of horsemanship. Small is the need to instruct thee. Thou dost know Well how to turn the goal, and yet thy steeds Are slow, and ill for thee may be the event. Their steeds are swift, yet have they never learned To govern them with greater skill than thou. Now then, dear son, bethink thee heedfully Of all precautions, lest thou miss the prize. By skill the woodman, rather than by strength, Brings down the oak; by skill the pilot guides His wind-tossed galley over the dark sea ; And thus by skill the charioteer o'ercomes His rival. He who trusts too much his steeds And chariot lets them veer from side to side Along the course, nor keeps a steady rein Straight on, while one expert in horsemanship, Though drawn by slower horses, carefully Observes the goal, and closely passes it, Nor fails to know how soon to turn his course, Drawing the leathern reins, and steadily Keeps on, and watches him who goes before. Now must I show the goal which, easily Discerned, will not escape thine eye. It stands An ell above the ground, a sapless post, Of oak or larch, - a wood of slow decay By rain, and at its foot on either side Lies a white stone; there narrow is the way, But level is the race-course all around. The monument it is of one long dead, Or haply it has been in former days A goal, as the swift-footed Peleus' son Has now appointed it. Approach it near, Driving thy chariot close upon its foot, Then in thy seat lean gently to the left And cheer the right-hand horse, and ply the lash, And give him a loose rein, yet firmly keep The left-hand courser close beside the goal, — So close that the wheel's nave may seem to touch The summit of the post; yet strike thou not The stone beside it, lest thou lame thy steeds And break the chariot, to thy own disgrace And laughter of the others. My dear son, Be on thy guard; for if thou pass the goal Before the rest, no man in the pursuit Can overtake or pass thee, though he drave The noble courser of Adrastus, named Arion the swift-footed, which a god Bade spring to life, or those of matchless speed Reared here in Ilium by Laomedon." Neleian Nestor spake, and, having thus Given all the needful cautions, took his seat In his own place. Meriones, the fifth, Harnessed his steeds with stately manes, and all Mounted their chariots. Lots were cast; the son Of Peleus shook the helmet, and the lot Of Nestor's son, Antilochus, leaped forth; And next the lot of King Eumelus came; And Menelaus, mighty with the spear, Had the third lot; Meriones was next; And to the bravest of them all, the son Of Tydeus, fell the final lot and place. They stood in order, while Achilles showed The goal far off upon the level plain, And near it, as the umpire of the race, He placed the godlike Phœnix, who had been His father's armor-bearer, to observe With judging eye, and bring a true report. All raised at once the lash above their steeds, And smote them with the reins, and cheered them on With vehement cries. Across the plain they swept, Far from the fleet; beneath them rose the dust, A cloud, a tempest, and their tossing manes Were lifted by the wind. And now the cars Touched earth, and now were flung into the air. Erect the drivers stood, with beating hearts, Eager for victory, each encouraging His steeds, that flew beneath the shroud of dust. But when they turned their course, and swiftly ran Back to the hoary deep to close the course, Well did the skill of every chief appear. They put their horses to the utmost speed, And then did the quick-footed steeds that drew Eumelus bear him on beyond the rest. But with his Trojan coursers Diomed Came next, so near it seemed that they would mount The car before them, and upon the back And ample shoulders of Eumelus smote Their steaming breath; for as they ran their heads Leaned over him. And then would Diomed Have passed him by, or would at least have made The victory doubtful, had not Phœbus struck, In his displeasure, from the hero's hand The shining scourge. It fell, and to his eyes Started indignant tears; for now he saw The others gaining on him, while the speed Of his own steeds, which feared the lash no more, Was slackened. Yet Apollo's stratagem Was not unseen by Pallas, who o'ertook The shepherd of the people, and restored The scourge he dropped, and put into his steeds New spirit. In her anger she approached Eumelus, snapped his yoke, and caused his mares To start asunder from the track; the pole Was dashed into the ground, and from the seat The chief was flung beside the wheel, his mouth, Elbows, and nostrils torn, his forehead bruised. Grief filled his eyes with tears and choked his voice, While Diomed drave by his firm-paced steeds, Outstripping all the rest; for Pallas nerved Their limbs with vigor, and bestowed on him Abundant glory. After him the son Of Atreus, fair-haired Menelaus, came, While Nestor's son cheered on his father's steeds:- "On, on! press onward with your utmost speed! Not that I bid you strive against the steeds Of warlike Diomed, for Pallas gives Swiftness to them and glory to the man Who holds the reins; but let us overtake The horses of Atrides, nor submit To be thus distanced, lest the victory Of the mare Æthe cover you with shame. Fleet as ye are, why linger? This at least I tell you, and my words will be fulfilled: Look not for kindly care at Nestor's hands, That shepherd of the people, but for death With the sharp steel, if through your fault we take A meaner prize. Then onward and away, With all your strength, for this is my design, — To pass by Menelaus where the way Is narrow, and he cannot thwart my plan." He spake, and they who feared their master's threat Mended their speed awhile. The warlike son Of Nestor saw just then the narrow pass Within the hollow way, a furrow ploughed By winter floods, which there had torn the course And deepened it. Atrides, to avoid The clash of wheels, drave thither; thither too Antilochus - who turned his firm-paced steeds A little from the track in which they ran - Followed him close. Atrides saw with fear, And shouted to Antilochus aloud:- "Antilochus, thou drivest rashly; rein Thy horses in. The way is narrow here, But soon will broaden, and thou then canst pass. Beware lest with thy chariot-wheels thou dash Against my own, and harm befall us both." He spake; but all the more Antilochus Urged on his coursers with the lash, as if He had not heard. As far as flies a quoit Thrown from the shoulder of a vigorous youth Who tries his strength, so far they ran abreast. The horses of Atrides then fell back; He slacked the reins; for much he feared the steeds Would dash against each other in the way, And overturn the sumptuous cars, and fling The charioteers contending for the prize Upon the dusty track. With angry words The fair-haired Menelaus chided thus:- "Antilochus, there is no man so prone As thou to mischief, and we greatly err, We Greeks, who call thee wise. Go now, and yet Thou shalt not take the prize without an oath." Again he spake, encouraging his steeds: "Check not your speed, nor sorrowfully stand: Their feet and knees will fail with weariness Before your own; they are no longer young." He spake; the coursers, honoring his voice, Ran with fresh speed, and soon were near to those Of Nestor's son. Meantime the assembled Greeks Sat looking where the horses scoured the plain And filled the air with dust. Idomeneus, The lord of Crete, descried the coursers first, For on a height he sat above the crowd. He heard the chief encouraging his steeds, And knew him, and he marked before the rest A courser, chestnut-colored save a spot Upon the middle of the forehead, white, And round as the full moon. And then he stood Upright, and from his place harangued the Greeks:- "O friends, the chiefs and leaders of the Greeks, Am I the sole one that descries the steeds, Or do ye also? Those who lead the race, I think, are not the same, and with them comes A different charioteer. The mares, which late Were foremost, may have somewhere come to harm. I saw them first to turn the goal, and now I can no more discern them, though my sight Sweeps the whole Trojan plain from side to side. Either the charioteer has dropped the reins, And could not duly round the goal, or else Met with disaster at the turn, o'erthrown, His chariot broken, and the affrighted mares Darting, unmastered, madly from the way. But rise: look forth yourselves. I cannot well Discern, but think the charioteer is one Who, born of an Ætolian stock, commands Among the Argives, - valiant Diomed, A son of Tydeus, tamer of wild steeds." And Ajax, swift of foot, Oïleus' son, Answered with bitter words: "Idomeneus, Why this perpetual prating? Far away The mares with rapid hoofs are traversing The plain, and thou art not the youngest here Among the Argives, nor hast such sharp eyes Beneath thy brows, yet must thou chatter still. Among thy betters here it ill becomes A man like thee to be so free of tongue. The coursers of Eumelus, which at first Outran the rest, are yet before them all, And he is drawing near and holds the reins." The Cretan leader angrily rejoined: "Ajax, thou railer, first in brawls, yet known As in all else below the other Greeks, A man of brutal mood, come, let us stake A tripod or a caldron, and appoint As umpire Agamemnon, to decide Which horses are the foremost in the race, That when thou losest thou mayst be convinced." He spake: Oilean Ajax, swift of foot, Started in anger from his seat, to cast Reproaches back, and long and fierce had been The quarrel if Achilles had not risen, And said: "No longer let this strife go on, Idomeneus and Ajax! Ill such words Become you; ye would blame in other men What now ye do. Sit then among the rest, And watch the race; for soon the charioteers Contending for the victory will be here, And each of you - for well ye know the steeds Of the Greek chieftains - for himself will see Whose hold the second place, and whose are first." He spake: Tydides rapidly drew near, Lashing the shoulders of his steeds, and they Seemed in the air as, to complete the course, They flew along, and flung the dust they trod Back on the charioteer. All bright with tin And gold, the car rolled after them; its tires Made but a slender trace in the light dust, So rapidly they ran. And now he stopped Within the circle, while his steeds were steeped In sweat, that fell in drops from neck and breast. Then from his shining seat he leaped, and laid His scourge against the yoke. Brave Sthenelus Came forward, and at once received the prize For Diomed, and bade his comrades lead The maid away, and in their arms bear off The tripod, while himself unyoked the steeds. Next the Neleian chief, Antilochus, Came with his coursers. More by fraud than speed He distanced Menelaus, yet that chief Drave his fleet horses near him. Just so far As runs the wheel behind a steed that draws His master swiftly o'er the plain, his tail Touching the tire with its long hairs, and small The space between them as the spacious plain Is traversed, Menelaus just so far Was distanced by renowned Antilochus. For though at first he fell as far behind As a quoit's cast, yet was he gaining ground Rapidly, now that Agamemnon's mare, Æthe the stately-maned, increased her speed, And Menelaus, had the race for both Been longer, would have passed his rival by, Nor left the victory doubtful. After him, A spear's throw distant, came Meriones, The gallant comrade of Idomeneus, Whose full-maned steeds were slower than the rest, And he unskilled in contests such as these. And last of all Eumelus came. He drew His showy chariot after him, and drave His steeds before him. Great Achilles saw With pity, and from where he stood among The Greeks addressed him thus with winged words: - "The ablest horseman brings his steeds the last, But let us, as is just, confer on him The second prize; Tydides takes the first." He spake, and all approved his words; and now The mare, to please the Greeks, had been bestowed Upon Eumelus, if Antilochus, Son of magnanimous Nestor, had not risen To plead for justice with Achilles thus:- "Achilles, I shall deem it grave offence If thou fulfil thy word; for thou wilt take My prize, because thou seest that this man's car And his fleet steeds have suffered injury, Though he be skilful. Yet he should have prayed To the good gods; then had he not been seen Bringing his steeds the last. But if thou feel Compassion for him, and if so thou please, Large store of brass and gold is in thy tent, And thine are cattle, and handmaidens thine, And firm-paced steeds; hereafter give of these A nobler largess, or bestow it now, And hear the Greeks applaud thee. But this prize I yield not; let the warrior who may claim To take it try with me his strength of arm." He ceased: the noble son of Peleus smiled, And, pleased to see Antilochus succeed, - For he was a beloved friend, - he spake These wingèd words: "Since, then, Antilochus, Thou wilt that I bestow some recompense Upon Eumelus from my store, I give The brazen corselet which my arm in war Took from Asteropæus, edged around With shining tin, - a gift of no mean price." He ceased, and sent his friend Automedon To bring it from the tent. He went and brought The corselet, and Eumelus joyfully Received it from Achilles. Then arose, Among them Menelaus, ill at ease, And angry with Antilochus. He took The sceptre from a herald's hand, who hushed The crowd to silence, and the hero spake: - "Antilochus, who wert till now discreet, What hast thou done? Thou hast disgraced my skill And wronged my steeds by thrusting in thine own, Which were less fleet, before them. Now, ye chiefs And leaders of the Achaians, judge between This man and me, and judge impartially, Lest that some warrior of the Greeks should say That Menelaus, having overcome Antilochus by falsehood, led away The mare a prize; for his were slower steeds, But he the mightier man in feats of arms. Nay, I myself will judge; and none of all The Greeks will censure me, for what I do Will be but just. Antilochus, step forth, Illustrious as thou art, and in due form, Standing before thy horses and thy car, And taking in thy hand the pliant scourge Which thou just now hast wielded, touch thy steeds, And swear by Neptune, whose embrace surrounds The earth, that thou hast wittingly employed No stratagem to break my chariot's speed." And thus discreet Antilochus replied: "Have patience with me: I am younger far Than thou, King Menelaus; thou art both My elder and my better. Thou dost know The faults to which the young are ever prone; The will is quick to act, the judgment weak. Bear with me then. The mare which I received I cheerfully make over to thy hands. And if thou wilt yet more of what I have, I give it willingly and instantly, Rather, O loved of Jove, than lose a place In thy good-will, and sin against the gods." The son of large-souled Nestor, speaking thus, Led forth the mare, and gave her to the hand Of Menelaus, o'er whose spirit came A gladness. As upon a field of wheat Bristling with ears gathers the freshening dew, So was his spirit gladdened in his breast, And he bespake the youth with winged words : - "Antilochus, now shall my anger cease, For hitherto thou hast not shown thyself Foolish or fickle, though the heat of youth Just now hath led thee wrong. In time to come, Beware to practise stealthy arts on men Of higher rank than thou. No other Greek Would easily have made his peace with me. But thou hast suffered much, and much hast done, - Thou, and thy worthy father, and his son, Thy brother, - for my sake. I therefore yield To thy petition; yet I give to thee The mare, though mine she be, that these who stand Around us may perceive that I am not Of unforgiving or unyielding mood." He spake, and to Noëmon gave the mare, - Noëmon, comrade of Antilochus, - To lead her thence, while for himself he took The shining caldron. Then Meriones, Fourth in the race, received the prize of gold, - Two talents. But the fifth prize and the last, The double goblet, still was left unclaimed; And this Achilles carried through the crowd Of Greeks, and placed in Nestor's hands, and said: "Receive thou this, O ancient man, to keep In memory of the funeral honors paid Patroclus, whom thou never more shalt see Among the Greeks. I give this prize, which thou Hast not contended for, since thou wilt wield No more the cestus, nor wilt wrestle more, Nor hurl the javelin at the mark, nor join The foot-race; age lies heavy on thy limbs." He spake, and gave the prize, which Nestor took, Well pleased, and thus with winged words replied: - "Son, thou hast spoken rightly, for these limbs Are strong no longer; neither feet nor hands Move on each side with vigor as of yore. Would I were but as young, with strength as great, As when the Epeians in Buprasium laid King Amarynceus in the sepulchre, And funeral games were offered by his sons! Then of the Epeians there was none like me, Nor of the Pylian youths, nor yet among The brave Ætolians. In the boxing match I took the prize from Clytomedes, son Of Enops, and in wrestling overcame Ancæus the Pleuronian, who rose up Against me. In the foot-race I outstripped, Fleet as he was, Iphiclus, and beyond Phyleus and Polydore I threw the spear. Only the sons of Actor won the race Against me with their chariot, and they won Through force of numbers. Much they envied me, And feared lest I should bear away the prize; For largest in that contest of the steeds Was the reward, and they were two, - one held, Steadily held, the reins, the other swung The lash. Such was I once. Now feats like these Belong to other, younger men, and I, Though eminent among the heroes once, Must do as sad old age admonishes. Go thou, and honor thy friend's funeral With games. Thy gift I willingly accept, Rejoicing that thy thoughts revert to one Who loves thee, and that thou forgettest not To pay the honor due to me among The Greeks. The gods will give thee thy reward." He ceased. The son of Peleus, having heard This praise from Nestor, left him, and passed through The mighty concourse of the Greeks. He laid Before them prizes for the difficult strife Between the boxers. To the middle space He led a mule, and bound him, six years old And strong for toil, unbroken and most hard To break, while to the vanquished he assigned A goblet. Rising, he addressed the host : - "Ye sons of Atreus and ye well-armed Greeks, We call for two of the most skilled to strive For these, by striking with the lifted fist ; And he to whom Apollo shall decree The victory, acknowledged by you all, Shall have this sturdy mule to lead away. The vanquished takes this goblet as his meed." He spake. A warrior strong and huge of limb, Skilled in the cestus, named Epeius, son Of Panopeus, rose at the word, and laid His hand upon the sturdy mule, and said: - "Let him appear whose lot will be to take The goblet. No man of the Grecian host Will get the mule by overcoming me In combat with the cestus, - so I deem. In that I claim to be the best man here. And should it not suffice that in the war Others surpass me? All cannot excel In everything alike. I promise this, And shall fulfil my word, - that I will crush His body, and will break his bones. His friends Should all remain upon the ground to bear Their comrade off when beaten by my hand." He spake, and all were silent. Only rose Euryalus, whose father was the king Mecisteus of Talaïon's line, the same Who went to Thebes and overcame, of old, In all the funeral games of Edipus, The sons of Cadmus. To Euryalus Came Diomed, the spearman, bidding him Expect the victory which he greatly wished His friend might gain. Around his waist he drew A girdle, adding straps that from the hide Of a wild bull were cut with dextrous care. And, fully now arrayed, the twain stepped forth Into the middle space, and both began The combat. Lifting their strong arms, they brought Their heavy hands together. Fearfully Was heard the crash of jaws; from every limb The sweat was streaming. As Euryalus Looked round, his noble adversary sprang And smote him on the cheek, - too rude a blow To be withstood; his shapely limbs gave way Beneath him. As upon the weedy shore, When the fresh north-wind stirs the water's face, A fish leaps forth to light, and then again The dark wave covers it, so sprang and fell The chief. Magnanimous Epeius gave His hands and raised him up; his friends came round And led him thence with dragging feet, and head That drooped from side to side, while from his mouth Came clotted blood. They placed him in the midst, Unconscious still, and sent and took the cup. Then, third in order, for the wrestling-match The son of Peleus brought and showed the Greeks Yet other prizes. To the conqueror A tripod for the hearth, of ample size, He offered; twice six oxen, as the Greeks Esteemed it, were its price. And next he placed In view a damsel for the vanquished, trained In household arts; four beeves were deemed her price. Then rose Achilles, and addressed the Greeks: "Ye who would try your fortune in this strife, Arise." He spake, and mighty Ajax rose, The son of Telamon, and after him The wise Ulysses, trained to stratagems. They, girding up their loins, came forth and stood In the mid space, and there with vigorous arms They clasped each other, locked like rafters framed By some wise builder for the lofty roof Of a great mansion proof against the winds. Then their backs creaked beneath the powerful strain Of their strong hands; the sweat ran down their limbs; Large whelks upon their sides and shoulders rose, Crimson with blood. Still eagerly they strove For victory and the tripod. Yet in vain Ulysses labored to supplant his foe, And throw him to the ground, and equally Did Ajax strive in vain, for with sheer strength Ulysses foiled his efforts. When they saw That the Greeks wearied of the spectacle, The mighty Telamonian Ajax said: - "Son of Laertes, nobly born and trained To wise expedients, lift me up, or I Will lift up thee; and leave the rest to Jove." He spake, and raised Ulysses from the ground, Who dealt, with ready stratagem, a blow Upon the ham of Ajax, and the limb Gave way; the hero fell upon his back, And on his breast Ulysses, while the host Stood wondering and amazed. Ulysses strove, In turn, to lift his rival, but prevailed Only to move him from his place; he caught The knee of Ajax in his own, and both Came to the ground together, soiled with dust. They rose to wrestle still, but from his seat Achilles started, and forbade them thus:- "Contend no longer, nor exhaust your strength With struggling; there is victory for both, And equal prizes. Now depart, and leave The field of contest to the other Greeks." He spake: they listened and obeyed, and wiped The dust away, and put their garments on. And then the son of Peleus placed in sight Prizes of swiftness, - a wrought silver cup That held six measures, and in beauty far Excelled all others known; the cunning hands Of the Sidonian artisans had given Its graceful shape, and over the dark sea Men of Phoenicia brought it, with their wares, To the Greek harbors; they bestowed it there On Thoas. Afterward Euneüs, son Of Jason, gave it to the hero-chief, Patroclus, to redeem a captive friend, Lycaon, Priam's son. Achilles now Brought it before the assembly as a prize, For which, in honor of the friend he loved, The swiftest runners of the host should strive. Next, for the second in the race, he showed A noble fatling ox; and for the last, Gold, half a talent. Then he stood and said To the Achaians: "Those who would contend For these rewards, rise up." And then arose Oïlean Ajax, fleet of foot; and next Ulysses the sagacious; last upstood Antilochus, the son of Nestor, known As swiftest of the youths. In due array They stood; Achilles showed the goal. At once Forward they sprang. Oïlean Ajax soon Gained on the rest, but close behind him ran The great Ulysses. As a shapely maid Flinging the shuttle draws with careful hand The thread that fills the warp, and so brings near The shuttle to her bosom, just so near To Ajax ran Ulysses, in the prints Made by his rival's feet, before the dust Fell back upon them. As he ran, his breath Smote on the head of Ajax. All the Greeks Shouted applause to him, encouraging His ardor for the victory; but when now They neared the goal, Ulysses silently Prayed thus to Pallas: "Goddess, hear my prayer, And help these feet to win." The goddess heard, And lightened all his limbs, his feet, his hands; And just as they were rushing on the prize, Ajax, in running, slipped and fell-the work Of Pallas - where in heaps the refuse lay From entrails of the bellowing oxen slain In honor of Patroclus by the hand Of swift Achilles. Mouth and nostrils both Were choked with filth. The much-enduring man Ulysses, coming first, received the cup, While Ajax took the ox, and as he stood Holding the animal's horn and spitting forth The dirt, he said to those around: "T is plain The goddess caused my feet to slide; she aids Ulysses like a mother." So he said, And the Greeks laughed. And then Antilochus Received the third reward, and with a smile Said to the Greeks: "I tell you all, my friends, What you must know already, that the gods Honor the aged ever. Ajax stands Somewhat in years above me, but this chief Who takes the prize is of a former age And earlier race of men; they call him old, But hard it were for any Greek to vie With him in swiftness, save Achilles here." Such praise he gave Pelides, fleet of foot, Who answered: "Thy good word, Antilochus, Shall not be vainly spoken. I will add Yet half a talent to thy gold." He said, And gave the gold; Antilochus, well pleased, Received it. Then Pelides brought a spear Of ponderous length into the middle space, And laid it down, and placed a buckler near And helmet, which had been Sarpedon's arms, And which Patroclus won of him in war. Then stood Achilles and addressed the Greeks:- "I call on two, the bravest of the host, To arm themselves and take their spears in hand, And in a contest for these weapons put Each other to the proof. Whoever first Shall wound his adversary, piercing through The armor to the delicate skin beneath, And draw the crimson blood, to him I give This beautiful sword of Thrace, with silver studs, Won from Asteropæus. And let both Bear off these arms, a common gift, and both Shall sit and banquet nobly in my tent." He spake, and Telamonian Ajax rose, The large of limb; Tydides Diomed, The strong, rose also. When they had put on Their arms apart from all the host, they came, All eager for the combat, to the lists, And fearful was their aspect. All the Greeks Looked on with dread and wonder, and when now Stood face to face the warriors, thrice they rushed Against each other; thrice they dealt their blows. Then Ajax thrust through Diomed's round shield His weapon, but it wounded not; the mail Beyond it stopped the stroke. Tydides aimed Over his adversary's mighty shield A blow to reach his neck. The Greeks, alarmed For Ajax, shouted that the strife should cease, And both divide the prize. Achilles heard, But gave to Diomed the ponderous sword, Its sheath, and the fair belt from which it hung. Again Pelides placed before the host A mass of iron, shapeless from the forge, Which once the strong Eëtion used to hurl; But swift Achilles, when he took his life, Brought it with other booty in his ships To Troas. Rising, he addressed the Greeks:- "Stand forth, whoever will contend for this, And if broad fields and rich be his, this mass Will last him many years. The man who tends His flocks, or guides his plough, need not be sent To town for iron; he will have it here." He spake, and warlike Polypætes rose. Uprose the strong Leonteus, who in form Was like a god. The son of Telamon Rose also, and Epeius nobly born; Each took his place. Epeius seized the mass, And sent it whirling. All the Achaians laughed. The loved of Mars, Leonteus, flung it next, And after him the son of Telamon, The large-limbed Ajax, from his vigorous arm Sent it beyond the mark of both. But when The sturdy warrior Polypætes took The mass in hand, as far as o'er his beeves A herdsman sends his whirling staff, so far This cast outdid the rest. A shout arose; The friends of sturdy Polypætes took The prize, and bore it to the hollow ships. Achilles for the archers brought forth steel, Tempered for arrow-heads, - ten axes, each With double edge, and single axes ten, And from a galley's azure prow took off A mast, and reared it on the sands afar, And, tying to its summit by the foot A timorous dove, he bade them aim at her: "Whoever strikes the bird shall bear away The double axes to his tent; while he Who hits the cord, but not the bird, shall take The single axes, as the humbler prize." He ceased, and then arose the stalwart king, Teucer; then also rose Meriones, The valiant comrade of Idomeneus. The lots were shaken in a brazen helm, And Teucer's lot was first. He straightway sent A shaft with all his strength, but made no vow Of a choice hecatomb of firstling lambs To Phœbus, monarch-god. He missed the bird, Such was the will of Phœbus, but he struck, Close to her foot, the cord that made her fast. The keen shaft severed it; the dove flew up Into the heavens; the fillet dropped to earth Amid the loud applauses of the Greeks. And then Meriones made haste to take The bow from Teucer's hand. Long time he held The arrow aimed, the while he made a vow To Phœbus, the great archer, promising A chosen hecatomb of firstling lambs; Then, looking toward the dove, as high in air She wheeled beneath the clouds, he pierced her breast Beneath the wing; the shaft went through and fell, Fixed in the ground, beside Meriones, While the bird settled on the galley's mast With drooping head and open wings. The breath Forsook her soon, and down from that high perch She fell to earth. The people all looked on, Admiring and amazed. Meriones Took up the double axes as his prize, While Teucer bore the others to the fleet. And then Pelides brought into the midst A ponderous spear, and laid a caldron down Which never felt the fire, inwrought with flowers, Its price an ox. And then the spearmen rose. Atrides Agamemnon, mighty king, First rose, and after him Meriones, The brave companion of Idomeneus; And thus to both the swift Achilles said: - "O son of Atreus, for we know how far Thou dost excel all others, and dost cast The spear with passing strength and skill, bear thou This prize, as victor, to the roomy ships, And if it please thee, let us, as I wish, Give to our brave Meriones the spear." He spake, and Agamemnon, king of men, Complied, and gave Meriones in hand The brazen spear, while to Talthybius, The herald, he consigned the greater prize.
BOOK XXIV. THE assembly was dissolved, the people all Dispersed to their swift galleys, and prepared With food and gentle slumber to refresh Their wearied frames. But still Achilles wept, Remembering his dear comrade. Sleep, whose sway Is over all, came not; he turned and tossed, Still yearning for his strong and valiant friend Patroclus. All that they had ever done Together, all the hardships they had borne, The battles fought with heroes, the wild seas O'erpassed, came thronging on his memory. He shed warm tears, as now upon his sides, Now on his back, now on his face he lay. Then, starting from his couch, he wandered forth In sorrow by the margin of the deep. Nor did the morn that rose o'er sea and shore Dawn unperceived by him; for then he yoked His fleet steeds to the chariot, and made fast The corse of Hector, that it might be dragged After the wheels. Three times around the tomb Of Menœtiades he dragged the slain, Then turned and sought his tent, again to rest, And left him there stretched out amid the dust With the face downward. Yet Apollo, moved With pity for the hero, kept him free From soil or stain, though dead, and o'er him held The golden ægis, lest, when roughly dragged Along the ground, the body might be torn. So in his anger did Achilles treat Unworthily the noble Hector's corse. The blessed gods themselves with pity looked Upon the slain, and bade the vigilant one, The Argus-queller, bear him thence by stealth. This counsel pleased the immortals all, except Juno and Neptune and the blue-eyed maid, And these persisted in their wrath. To them Ilium, the hallowed city, and its king, Priam, and all his people, from the first Were hateful; 't was for Alexander's fault, Affronting the two goddesses what time They sought his cottage, and preferring her Who ministered to his calamitous love. But now, when the twelfth morning from that day Arose, Apollo spake among the gods: - "Cruel are ye, O gods, and prone to wrong. For was not Hector wont before your shrines To burn the thighs of chosen bulls and goats? And now that he is dead ye venture not To rescue him, and let his wife and son And mother and King Priam look again Upon his face. Soon would they light the pile, And burn the dead, and pay the funeral rite. Ye seek to favor, O ye gods, that pest, Achilles, in whose breast there dwells no love Of justice, nor a temper to be moved By prayers, but who delights in savage deeds. And as a lion, conscious of vast strength And scornful of resistance, falls upon The shepherd's flock, and slays for his repast, Thus with Achilles neither mercy dwells Nor shame, which often profits, often harms Mankind. For when another man has met A greater grief than he, - has lost, perchance, A brother or a son, - he dries at length His tears, and ceases to lament; for fate Bestows the power to suffer patiently. But this Achilles, after he has spoiled The godlike Hector of his life in war, Hath bound him to his chariot, and hath dragged The corse around his dear companion's tomb. Unseemly is the deed, and small will be The good it brings him. Brave although he be, We may be angry with him when he thus Insults a portion of insensible earth." The white-armed Juno was incensed, and spake: "So mightst thou say, God of the silver bow, Were equal honor to Achilles due And Hector. Hector is a mortal man, And suckled at a woman's breast. Not so Achilles; he was born of one of us, A goddess whom I nurtured and brought up And gave to Peleus. Ye were present all, Ye gods, when they were wedded. Thou wert there To share the marriage banquet, harp in hand, Thou plotter with the vile, thou faithless one!" Then answered cloud-compelling Jove, and said: "Let not thy anger rise against the gods, O Juno, for the honor of the chiefs Shall not be equal. Yet of all the race Of mortals dwelling in the city of Troy Was Hector dearest to the gods; to me He ever was; and never did he fail To offer welcome gifts. My altar ne'er Lacked fitting feast, libation, and the fume Of incense, - hallowed rites which are our due. Yet seek we not to steal away the corse Of valiant Hector; that we could not do Without his slayer's knowledge, who by night And day is ever near to him and keeps Watch o'er him like a mother. Let some god Call hither Thetis. I will counsel her Prudently, that Achilles may receive Ransom from Priam, and restore his son." He ceased, and with the swiftness of the storm Rose Iris up, to be his messenger. Half-way 'twixt Samos and the rugged coast Of Imbrus down she plunged to the dark sea, Entering the deep with noise. Far down she sank As sinks the ball of lead, that, sliding o'er A wild bull's horn, bears into ocean's depths Death to the greedy fishes. There she found Thetis within her roomy cave, among The goddesses of ocean, seated round In full assembly. Thetis in the midst Bewailed the fate of her own blameless son, About to perish on the fertile soil Of Troy, and far from Greece. The swift of wing, Iris, approached her and addressed her thus:- "Arise, O Thetis. Father Jupiter, Whose counsel stands forever, sends for thee." And silver-footed Thetis answered him: "Why should that potent deity require My presence, who have many griefs, and shrink From mingling with immortals? Yet I go, Perforce, for never doth he speak in vain." So spake the goddess-queen, and, speaking, took Her mantle, - darker web was never worn, - And onward went. Wind-footed Iris led The way; the waters of the sea withdrew On either side. They climbed the steepy shore, And took their way to heaven. They found the son Of Saturn, him of the far-sounding voice, With all the blessed, ever-living gods Assembled round him. Close to Father Jove She took her seat, for Pallas yielded it, And Juno put a beautiful cup of gold Into her hand, and spake consoling words. She drank and gave it back, and thus began The father of immortals and of men:- "Thou comest to Olympus, though in grief, O goddess Thetis, and I know the cause That makes thee sad and will not from thy thoughts; Yet let me now declare why I have called Thee hither. For nine days the immortal gods Have been at strife concerning Hector's corse And Peleus' son, the spoiler. They have asked The vigilant Argus-queller to remove The dead by stealth. But I must yet bestow Fresh honor on Achilles, and thus keep Thy love and reverence. Now descend at once Into the camp and carry to thy son My message: say that it offends the gods, And me the most, that in his spite he keeps The corse of Hector at the beaked ships, Refusing to restore it. He perchance Will listen, and, revering me, give back The slain. And I will send a messenger, Iris, to large-souled Priam, bidding him Hasten in person to the Grecian fleet, To ransom his beloved son, and bring Achilles gifts that shall appease his rage." He spake: the goddess of the silver feet, Thetis, obeyed, and with precipitate flight Descended from the mountain-peaks. She came To her son's tent, and found him uttering moans Continually, while his beloved friends Were busy round him; they prepared a feast, And had just slain within the tent a ewe Of ample size and fleece. She took her seat Beside her son, and smoothed his brow, and said: - "How long, my son, wilt thou lament and grieve And pine at heart, abstaining from the feast And from thy couch? Yet well it is to seek A woman's love. Thy life will not be spared Long time to me, for death and cruel fate Stand near thee. Listen to me; I am come A messenger from Jove, who bids me say The immortals are offended, and himself The most, that thou shouldst in thy spite detain The corse of Hector at the beaked ships, Refusing its release. Comply thou then, And take the ransom and restore the dead." And thus Achilles, swift of foot, replied: "Let him who brings the ransom come and take The body, if it be the will of Jove." Thus did the mother and the son confer Among the galleys, and between them passed Full many a wingèd word, while Saturn's son Bade Iris go with speed to sacred Troy: - "Fleet Iris, haste thee. Leave the Olympian seats, And send magnanimous Priam to the fleet, To ransom his dear son, and bear him back To Ilium. Let him carry gifts to calm The anger of Achilles. He should go Alone, no Trojan with him, save a man In years, a herald, who may guide the mules And strong-wheeled chariot, harnessed to bear back Him whom the great Achilles has o'erthrown; And let him fear not death nor other harm, For we will send a guide to lead him safe, The Argus-queller, till he stand beside Achilles; and when once he comes within The warrior's tent, Achilles will not raise His hand to slay, but will restrain the rest. Nor mad, nor rash, nor criminal is he, And will humanely spare a suppliant man." He spake, and Iris, the swift messenger, Whose feet are like the wind, went forth with speed, And came to Priam's palace, where she found Sorrow and wailing. Round the father sat His sons within the hall, and steeped with tears Their garments. In the midst the aged man Sat with a cloak wrapped round him, and much dust Strewn on his head and neck, which, when he rolled Upon the earth, he gathered with his hands. His daughters and the consorts of his sons Filled with their cries the mansion, sorrowing For those, the many and brave, who now lay slain By Grecian hands. The ambassadress of Jove Stood beside Priam, and in soft, low tones, While his limbs shook with fear, addressed him thus:- "Be comforted, and have no fear; for I Am come, Dardanian Priam, not to bring Mischief, but blessing. I am sent to thee A messenger from Jove, who, though afar, Pities thee and will aid thee. He who rules Olympus bids thee ransom thy slain son, The noble Hector, carrying gifts to calm The anger of Achilles. Thou shouldst go Alone, no Trojan with thee, save a man In years, a herald, who shall guide the mules And strong-wheeled chariot, harnessed to bring back Him whom the great Achilles has o'erthrown. And have no fear of death or other harm; A guide shall go with thee to lead thee safe, The Argus-queller, till thou stand beside Achilles, and when once thou art within The warrior's tent, Achilles will not raise His hand to slay, but will restrain the rest. He is not mad, nor rash, nor prone to crime, And will humanely spare a suppliant man." Thus the swift-footed Iris spake, and then Departed. Priam bade his sons prepare The strong-wheeled chariot, drawn by mules, and bind A coffer on it. He descended next Into a fragrant chamber, cedar-lined, High-roofed, and stored with many things of price, And calling Hecuba, his wife, he said: - "Dear wife, a message from Olympian Jove Commands that I betake me to the fleet, And thence redeem my slaughtered son with gifts That may appease Achilles. Tell me now How this may seem to thee? for I am moved By a strong impulse to approach the ships, And venture into the great Grecian camp." He spake: his consort wept, and answered thus: "Ah me! the prudence which was once so praised By strangers and by those who own thy sway, Where is it now? Why wouldst thou go alone To the Greek fleet, to meet the eye of him Who slew so many of thy gallant sons? An iron heart is thine. If that false man, Remorseless as he is, should see thee there And seize thee, neither pity nor respect Hast thou to hope from him. Let us lament Our Hector in these halls. A cruel fate Spun, when I brought him forth, his thread of life, - That far from us his corse should feed the hounds Near that fierce man, whose liver I could tear From out his bosom. Then the indignities Done to my son would be repaid, for he Was slain, not shunning combat, coward-like, But fighting to defend the men of Troy And the deep-bosomed Trojan dames. He fell Without a thought of flight or of retreat." And thus the aged, godlike king rejoined: "Keep me not back from going, nor be thou A bird of evil omen in these halls, For thou shalt not persuade me. This I say: If any of the dwellers of the earth, Soothsayer, seer, or priest, had said to me What I have heard, I well might deem the words A lie, and heed them not. But since I heard Myself the mandate from a deity, And saw her face to face, I certainly Will go, nor shall the message be in vain. And should it be my fate to perish there Beside the galleys of the mail-clad Greeks, So be it; for Achilles will forthwith Put me to death embracing my poor son, And satisfying my desire to weep." He spake, and, raising the fair coffer-lids, Took out twelve robes of state most beautiful, Twelve single cloaks, as many tapestried mats, And tunics next and mantles twelve of each, And ten whole talents of pure gold, which first He weighed. Two burnished tripods from his store He added, and four goblets and a cup Of eminent beauty, which the men of Thrace Gave him when, as an envoy to their coast, He came from Troy, -a sumptuous gift, and yet The aged king reserved not even this To deck his palace, such was his desire To ransom his dear son. And then he drave Away the Trojans hovering round his porch, Rebuking them with sharp and bitter words: - "Hence with you, worthless wretches! have ye not Sorrow enough at home, that ye are come To vex me thus? Or doth it seem to you Of little moment, that Saturnian Jove Hath sent such grief upon me in the loss Of my most valiant son? Ye yet will know How great that loss has been; for it will be A lighter task for the beleaguering Greeks To work our ruin, now that he is dead. But I shall sink to Hades ere mine eyes Behold the city sacked and made a spoil." He spake, and with his staff he chased away The loiterers; forth before the aged man They went. With like harsh words he chid his sons. Helenus, Paris, noble Agathon, Pammon, Antiphonus, Deiphobus, Polites, great in war, Hippothoüs, And gallant Dios, nine in all he called, And thus bespake them with reproachful words:- "Make haste, ye idle fellows, my disgrace! Would ye had all been slain beside the fleet Instead of Hector! Woe is me! the most Unhappy of mankind am I, who had The bravest sons in all the town of Troy, And none of them, I think, are left to me. Mestor, divine in presence, Troïlus, The gallant knight, and Hector, he who looked A god among his countrymen, - no son Of man he seemed, but of immortal birth, — Those Mars has slain, but these who are my shame Remain, - these liars, dancers, excellent In choirs, whose trade is public robbery Of lambs and kids. Why haste ye not to get My chariot ready, and bestow these things Within it, that my journey may begin?" He spake, and they, in fear of his rebuke, Lifted from out its place the strong-wheeled car, Framed to be drawn by mules, and beautiful, And newly built, and on it they made fast The coffer. From its pin they next took down The boxwood mule-yoke, fitted well with rings, And carved with a smooth boss. With this they brought A yoke-band nine ells long, which carefully Adjusting to the polished pole's far end, They cast the ring upon the bolt, and thrice Wound the long band on each side of the bolt Around the yoke, and made it fast, and turned The loose ends under. Then they carried forth The treasures that should ransom Hector's corse; And having piled them in the polished car, They yoked the hardy, strong-hoofed mules which once The Mysians gave to Priam, princely gifts. To bear the yoke of Priam they led forth The horses which the aged man himself Fed at the polished manger. These the king Yoked, aided by the herald, while in mind, Within the palace court, they both revolved Their prudent counsels. Hecuba, the queen, Came to them in deep sorrow. In her hand She bore a golden cup of delicate wine, That they might make libations and depart. She stood before the steeds, and thus she spake: - "Take this, and pour to Father Jove, and pray That thou mayst safely leave the enemy's camp For home, since 't is thy will, though I dissuade, To go among the ships. Implore thou then The god of Ida and the gatherer Of the black tempest, Saturn's son, who looks Down on all Troy, to send his messenger, His swift and favorite bird, of matchless strength, On thy right hand, that, with thine eye on him, Thou mayst with courage journey to the ships Of the Greek horsemen. But if Jupiter All-seeing should withhold his messenger, I cannot bid thee, eager as thou art, Adventure near the galleys of the Greeks." And thus the godlike Priam made reply: "Dear wife, indeed, I will not disobey Thy counsel; meet it is to raise our hands To Jove, and ask him to be merciful." He spake, and bade the attendant handmaid pour Pure water on his hands, for near him stood A maid who came and held a basin forth And ewer. When his hands were washed, he took The goblet from the queen, and then, in prayer, Stood in the middle of the court, and poured The wine, and, looking heavenward, spake aloud:- "O Father Jove, most glorious and most great, Who rulest all from Ida, let me find Favor and pity with Achilles. Send A messenger, thy own swift, favorite bird, Of matchless strength, on my right hand, that I, Beholding him, may confidently pass To where the fleet of the Greek horsemen lies!" Thus in his prayer he spake, and Jupiter, The All-disposer, hearkened, and sent forth An eagle, bird of surest augury, Named the Black Chaser, and by others called Percnos, with wings as broad as is the door Skilfully fashioned for the lofty hall Of some rich man, and fastened with a bolt. Such ample wings he spread on either side As townward on the right they saw him fly. They saw and they rejoiced; their hearts grew light Within their bosoms. Then the aged king Hastened to mount the polished car, and drave Through vestibule and echoing porch. The mules, Harnessed to draw the four-wheeled car, went first, Driven by the sage Idæus; after them, The horses, urged by Priam with the lash Rapidly through the city. All his friends Followed lamenting, as for one who went To meet his death. And now when they had reached The plain descending from the town, the sons And sons-in-law of Priam all returned To Ilium, and the twain proceeded on, Yet not unmarked by all-beholding Jove, Who, moved with pity for the aged man, Turned to his well-beloved son and said: - "Hermes, who more than any other god Delightest to consort with human-kind, And willingly dost listen to their prayers, Haste, guide King Priam to the Grecian fleet, Yet so that none may see him, and no Greek Know of his coming, till he stand before Pelides." Thus he spake: the messenger Who slew the Argus hearkened and obeyed; And hastily beneath his feet he bound The fair, ambrosial, golden sandals worn To bear him over ocean like the wind, And o'er the boundless land. His wand he took Wherewith he seals in sleep the eyes of men, And opens them at will. With this in hand, The mighty Argus-queller flew, and soon Was at the Troad and the Hellespont. Like to some royal stripling seemed the god, In youth's first prime, when youth has most of grace. And there the Trojans twain, when they had passed The tomb of Ilus, halted with their mules And horses, that the beasts might drink the stream; For twilight now was creeping o'er the earth. The herald looked, and saw that Mercury Was near, and thus, addressing Priam, said: "Be on thy guard, O son of Dardanus, For here is cause for wariness. I see A warrior, and I think he seeks our lives. Now let us urge our steeds and fly, or else Descend and clasp his knees, and sue for grace." He spake, and greatly was the aged king Bewildered by his words; with hair erect He stood, and motionless, while Mercury Drew near, and took the old man's hand, and asked: - "Whither, O father, guidest thou thy mules And steeds in the dim night, while others sleep? Fearest thou nothing from the warlike Greeks, Thy foes, who hate thee, and are near at hand? Should one of them behold thee bearing off These treasures in the swiftly darkening night, What wouldst thou do? Thou art not young, and he Who comes with thee is old; ye could not make Defence against the foe. Fear nought from me, And I will save thee, since thou art so like To my own father, from all other harm." Priam, the godlike ancient, answered thus: "Thou sayest true, dear son; but sure some god Holds over me his kind, protecting hand, Who sends a guide like thee to join me here, So noble art thou both in form and air, And gracious are thy thoughts, and blessed they Who gave thee birth." With that the messenger, The Argus-queller, spake again, and said: "Most wisely hast thou spoken, aged man. But tell, and truly, why thou bearest hence This store of treasures among stranger men? Is it that they may be preserved for thee? Or are ye all deserting in alarm Your hallowed Troy? for such a man of might Was thy brave son who died, that I may say The Greeks in battle had no braver man." And Priam, godlike ancient, spake in turn: "Who then art thou, and of what parents born, Excellent youth, who dost in such kind words Speak of the death of my unhappy son?" The herald, Argus-queller, answered him: "I see that thou wouldst prove me, aged man, By questions touching Hector, whom I oft Have seen with mine own eyes in glorious fight, Putting the Greeks to rout and slaying them By their swift ships with that sharp spear of his. We stood and marvelled, for Achilles, wroth With Agamemnon, would not suffer us To join the combat. I attend on him; The same good galley brought us to this shore, And I am one among his Myrmidons. Polyctor is my father, who is rich, And now as old as thou. Six are his sons Beside me, I the seventh. In casting lots With them, it fell to me that I should come To Ilium with Achilles. I am here In coming from the fleet, for with the dawn The dark-eyed Greeks are planning to renew The war around the city. They have grown Impatient of long idleness; their chiefs Seek vainly to restrain their warlike rage." Then spake the godlike ancient, Priam, thus: "If thou indeed dost serve Pelides, tell, And truly tell me, whether yet my son Is at the fleet, or has Achilles cast, Torn limb from limb, his body to the hounds?" The herald, Argus-queller, thus replied: "O aged monarch, neither have the hounds Devoured thy son, nor yet the birds of prey; But near the galleys of Achilles still He lies neglected and among the tents. Twelve mornings have beheld him lying there, Nor hath corruption touched him, nor the worms That make the slain their feast begun to feed. 'T is true that, when the holy morning dawns Achilles drags him fiercely round the tomb Of his dear friend; yet that disfigures not The dead. Shouldst thou approach him, thou wouldst see With marvelling eyes how fresh and dewy still The body lies, the blood all cleansed away, Unsoiled in every part, and all the wounds Closed up wherever made; for many a spear Was thrust into his sides. Thus tenderly The blessed gods regard thy son, though dead, For dearly was he loved by them in life." He spake; the aged man was comforted, And said: "T is meet, O son, that we should pay Oblations to the immortals; for my son While yet alive neglected not within His palace the due worship of the gods Who dwell upon Olympus; therefore they Are mindful of him, even after death. Take this magnificent goblet; be my guard, And guide me, by the favor of the gods, Until I reach Pelides in his tent." Again the herald, Argus-queller, spake: "Thou seekest yet to try me, aged man, Who younger am than thou. Yet think thou not That I, without the knowledge of my chief, Will take thy gifts; for in my heart I fear Achilles, nor would wrong him in the least, Lest evil come upon me. Yet I go Willingly with thee, as thy faithful guide. Were it as far as Argos the renowned, In a swift galley, or on foot by land, Yet none would dare to harm thee while with me." So Hermes spake, and leaped into the car, And took into his hands the lash and reins, And breathed into the horses and the mules Fresh vigor. Coming to the wall and trench About the ships, they found the guard engaged With their night-meal. The herald Argicide Poured sleep upon them all, and quickly flung The gates apart, and pushed aside the bars, And led in Priam, with the costly gifts Heaped on the car. They went, until they reached The lofty tent in which Achilles sat, Reared by the Myrmidons to lodge their king, With timbers of hewn fir, and over-roofed With thatch, for which the meadows had been mown, And fenced for safety round with rows of stakes. One fir-tree bar made fast its gate, which three Strong Greeks were wont to raise aloft, and three Were needed to take down the massive beam. Achilles wielded the vast weight alone; Beneficent Hermes opened it before The aged man, and brought the treasures in, Designed for swift Achilles. Then he left The car and stood upon the ground, and said: - "O aged monarch, I am Mercury, An ever-living god; my father, Jove, Bade me attend thy journey. I shall now Return, nor must Achilles look on me; It is not meet that an immortal god Should openly befriend a mortal man. Enter, approach Pelides, clasp his knees; Entreat him by his father, and his son, And fair-haired mother; so shall he be moved." Thus having spoken, Hermes took his way Back to the Olympian summit. Priam then Sprang from the chariot to the ground. He left Idæus there to guard the steeds and mules, And, hastening to the tent where, dear to Jove, Achilles lodged, he found the chief within, While his companions sat apart, save two, - Automedon the brave, and Alcimus, Who claimed descent from Mars. These stood near by, And ministered to Peleus' son, who then Was closing a repast, and had just left The food and wine, and still the table stood. Unmarked the royal Priam entered in, And, coming to Achilles, clasped his knees, And kissed those fearful slaughter-dealing hands, By which so many of his sons had died. And as, when some blood-guilty man, whose hand In his own land has slain a fellow-man, Flees to another country, and the abode Of some great chieftain, all men look on him Astonished, so, when godlike Priam first Was seen, Achilles was amazed, and all Looked on each other, wondering at the sight. And thus King Priam supplicating spake: - "Think of thy father, an old man like me, Godlike Achilles! On the dreary verge Of closing life he stands, and even now Haply is fiercely pressed by those who dwell Around him, and has none to shield his age From war and its disasters. Yet his heart Rejoices when he hears thou yet dost live, And every day he hopes that his dear son Will come again from Troy. My lot is hard, For I was father of the bravest sons In all wide Troy, and none are left me now. Fifty were with me when the men of Greece Arrived upon our coast; nineteen of these Owned the same mother, and the rest were born Within my palaces. Remorseless Mars Already had laid lifeless most of these, And Hector, whom I cherished most, whose arm Defended both our city and ourselves, Him didst thou lately slay while combating For his dear country. For his sake I come To the Greek fleet, and to redeem his corse I bring uncounted ransom. O, revere The gods, Achilles, and be merciful, Calling to mind thy father! happier he Than I; for I have borne what no man else That dwells on earth could bear, - have laid my lips Upon the hand of him who slew my son." He spake: Achilles sorrowfully thought Of his own father. By the hand he took The suppliant, and with gentle force removed The old man from him. Both in memory Of those they loved were weeping. The old king, With many tears, and rolling in the dust Before Achilles, mourned his gallant son. Achilles sorrowed for his father's sake, And then bewailed Patroclus, and the sound Of lamentation filled the tent. At last Achilles, when he felt his heart relieved By tears, and that strong grief had spent its force, Sprang from his seat; then lifting by the hand The aged man, and pitying his white head And his white chin, he spake these winged words:- "Great have thy sufferings been, unhappy king! How couldst thou venture to approach alone The Grecian fleet, and show thyself to him Who slew so many of thy valiant sons? An iron heart is thine. But seat thyself, And let us, though afflicted grievously, Allow our woes to sleep awhile, for grief Indulged can bring no good. The gods ordain The lot of man to suffer, while themselves Are free from care. Beside Jove's threshold stand Two casks of gifts for man. One cask contains The evil, one the good, and he to whom The Thunderer gives them mingled sometimes falls Into misfortune, and is sometimes crowned With blessings. But the man to whom he gives The evil only stands a mark exposed To wrong, and, chased by grim calamity, Wanders the teeming earth, alike unloved By gods and men. So did the gods bestow Munificent gifts on Peleus from his birth, For eminent was he among mankind For wealth and plenty; o'er the Myrmidons He ruled, and, though a mortal, he was given A goddess for a wife. Yet did the gods Add evil to the good, for not to him Was born a family of kingly sons Within his house, successors to his reign. One short-lived son is his, nor am I there To cherish him in his old age; but here Do I remain, far from my native land, In Troy, and causing grief to thee and thine. Of thee too, aged king, they speak, as one Whose wealth was large in former days, when all That Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns was thine, And all in Phrygia and the shores that bound The Hellespont; men said thou didst excel All others in thy riches and thy sons. But since the gods have brought this strife on thee War and perpetual slaughter of brave men Are round thy city. Yet be firm of heart, Nor grieve forever. Sorrow for thy son Will profit nought; it cannot bring the dead To life again, and while thou dost afflict Thyself for him fresh woes may fall on thee." And thus the godlike Priam, aged king, Made answer: "Bid me not be seated here, Nursling of Jove, while Hector lies among Thy tents unburied. Let me ransom him At once, that I may look on him once more With my own eyes. Receive the many gifts We bring thee, and mayst thou possess them long, And reach thy native shore, since by thy grace I live and yet behold the light of day." Achilles heard, and, frowning, thus rejoined: "Anger me not, old man; 't was in my thought To let thee ransom Hector. To my tent The mother came who bore me, sent from Jove, The daughter of the Ancient of the Sea, And I perceive, nor can it be concealed, O Priam, that some god hath guided thee To our swift galleys; for no mortal man, Though in his prime of youthful strength, would dare To come into the camp; he could not pass The guard, nor move the beams that bar our gates. So then remind me of my griefs no more, Lest, suppliant as thou art, I leave thee not Unharmed, and thus transgress the laws of Jove." He spake: the aged man in fear obeyed. And then Pelides like a lion leaped Forth from the door, yet not alone he went; For of his comrades two - Automedon, The hero, and his comrade Alcimus, He whom Achilles held in most esteem After the slain Patroclus - followed him. The mules and horses they unyoked, and led The aged monarch's clear-voiced herald in, And bade him sit. Then from the polished car They took the costly ransom of the corse Of Hector, save two cloaks, which back they laid With a fair tunic, that their chief might give The body shrouded to be borne to Troy. And then he called the maidens, bidding them Wash and anoint the dead, yet far apart From Priam, lest, with looking on his son, The grief within his heart might rise uncurbed To anger, and Achilles in his rage Might stay him and transgress the laws of Jove. And when the handmaids finished, having washed The body and anointed it with oil, And wrapped a sumptuous cloak and tunic round The limbs, Achilles lifted it himself And placed it on a bier. His comrades gave Their aid, and raised it to the polished car. When all was done, Achilles groaned, and called By name the friend he dearly loved, and said:- "O my Patroclus, be not wroth with me Should thou in Hades hear that I restore Hector to his dear father, since I take A ransom not unworthy; but of this I yield to thee the portion justly thine." So spake the godlike warrior, and withdrew Into his tent, and took the princely seat From which he had arisen, opposite To that of Priam, whom he thus bespake:- "Behold thy son is ransomed, aged man, As thou hast asked, and lies upon his bier. Thou shalt behold him with the early dawn, And bear him hence. Now let us break our fast, For even Niobe, the golden-haired, Refrained not from her food, though children twelve Perished within her palace, - six young sons And six fair daughters. Phœbus slew the sons With arrows from his silver bow, incensed At Niobe, while Dian, archer-queen, Struck down the daughters; for the mother dared To make herself the peer of rosy-cheeked Latona, who, she boastfully proclaimed, Had borne two children only, while herself Had brought forth many. Yet, though only two, The children of Latona took the lives Of all her own. Nine days the corses lay In blood, and there was none to bury them, For Jove had changed the dwellers of the place To stone; but on the tenth the gods of heaven Gave burial to the dead. Yet Niobe, Though spent with weeping long, did not refrain From food. And now forever mid the rocks And desert hills of Sipylus, where lie, Fame says, the couches of the goddess-nymphs, Who lead the dance where Acheloüs flows, Although she be transformed to stone, she broods Over the woes inflicted by the gods. But now, O noble Ancient, let us sit At our repast, and thou mayst afterward Mourn thy beloved son, while bearing him Homeward, to be bewailed with many tears.” Achilles, the swift-footed, spake, and left His seat, and, slaying a white sheep, he bade His comrades flay and dress it. Then they carved The flesh in portions which they fixed on spits, And roasted carefully, and drew them back. And then Automedon distributed The bread in shapely canisters around The table, while Achilles served the flesh, And all put forth their hands and shared the feast. But when their thirst and hunger were appeased, Dardanian Priam fixed a wondering look Upon Achilles, who in nobleness Of form was like the gods. Achilles fixed A look of equal wonder on his guest, Dardanian Priam, for he much admired His gracious aspect and his pleasant speech. And when at length they both withdrew their gaze, Priam, the godlike Ancient, spake, and said: - "Nursling of Jove, dismiss me speedily To rest, that we may lie, and be refreshed With gentle slumbers. Never have these eyes Been closed beneath their lids, since by thy hand My Hector lost his life; and evermore I mourn and cherish all my griefs, and writhe Upon the ground within my palace courts; But I have taken food at last, and drunk Draughts of red wine, untasted till this hour." Achilles bade the attending men and maids Place couches in the porch, and over them Draw sumptuous purple mats on which to lay Embroidered tapestries, and on each of these Spread a broad, fleecy mantle, covering all. Forth went the train with torches in their hands, And quickly spread two couches. Then the swift Achilles pleasantly to Priam said: - "Sleep, excellent old man, without the tent, Lest some one of our counsellors arrive, Such as oft come within my tent to sit And talk of warlike matters. Seeing thee In the dark hours of night, he might relate The tale to Agamemnon, king of men, And hinder thus the ransom of thy son. But say, and truly say, how many days Requirest thou to pay the funeral rites To noble Hector, so that I may rest As many, and restrain the troops from war." Then answered godlike Priam, aged king: "Since, then, thou wilt, Achilles, that we pay The rites of burial to my noble son, I own the favor. Well thou knowest how We Trojans are constrained to keep within The city walls, for it is far to bring Wood from the mountains, and we fear to dare The journey. Nine days would we mourn the dead Within our dwellings, and upon the tenth Would bury him, and make a solemn feast, And the next day would rear his monument, And on the twelfth, if needful, fight again." And swift Achilles, godlike chief, rejoined: "Be it, O reverend Priam, as thou wilt, And for that space will I delay the war." He spake, and that the aged king might feel No fear, he grasped his right hand at the wrist; And then King Priam and the herald went To sleep within the porch, but wary still. Achilles slumbered in his stately tent, The rosy-cheeked Briseis at his side, And all the other gods and men who fought In chariots gave themselves to slumber, save Beneficent Hermes; sleep came not to him, For still he meditated how to bring King Priam back from the Achaian fleet Unnoticed by the watchers at the gate. So at the monarch's head he stood, and spake: — "O aged king, thou givest little heed To danger, sleeping thus amid thy foes, Because Achilles spares thee. Thou hast paid Large ransom for thy well-beloved son, And yet the sons whom thou hast left in Troy Would pay three times that ransom for thy life, Should Agamemnon, son of Atreus, learn - Or any of the Greeks - that thou art here." He spake: the aged king in fear awaked The herald. Hermes yoked the steeds and mules, And drave them quickly through the camp unmarked By any there. But when they reached the ford Where Xanthus, progeny of Jupiter, Rolls the smooth eddies of his stream, the god Departed for the Olympian height, and Morn In saffron robes o'erspread the Earth with light. Townward they urged the steeds, and as they went Sorrowed and wailed: the mules conveyed the dead, And they were seen by none of all the men And graceful dames of Troy save one alone. Cassandra, beautiful as Venus, stood On Pergamus, and from its height discerned Her father, standing on the chariot-seat, And knew the herald, him whose voice so oft Summoned the citizens, and knew the dead Stretched on a litter drawn by mules. She raised Her voice, and called to all the city thus: - "O Trojan men and women, hasten forth To look on Hector, if ye e'er rejoiced To see him coming from the field alive, The pride of Troy, and all who dwell in her." She spake, and suddenly was neither man Nor woman left within the city bounds. Deep grief was on them all; they went to meet, Near to the gates, the monarch bringing home The dead. And first the wife whom Hector loved Rushed with his reverend mother to the car As it rolled on, and, plucking out their hair, Touched with their hands the forehead of the dead, While round it pressed the multitude, and wept, And would have wept before the gates all day, Even to the set of sun, in bitter grief For Hector's loss, had not the aged man Addressed the people from his chariot-seat: "Give place to me, and let the mules pass on, And ye may weep your fill when once the dead Is laid within the palace." As he spake, The throng gave way and let the chariot pass; And having brought it to the royal halls, On a fair couch they laid the corse, and placed Singers beside it, leaders of the dirge, Who sang a sorrowful, lamenting strain, And all the women answered it with sobs. White-armed Andromache in both her hands Took warlike Hector's head, and over it Began the lamentation midst them all: - "Thou hast died young, my husband, leaving me In this thy home a widow, and one son, An infant yet. To an unhappy pair He owes his birth, and never will, I fear, Bloom into youth; for ere that day will Troy Be overthrown, since thou, its chief defence, Art dead, the guardian of its walls and all Its noble matrons and its speechless babes, Yet to be carried captive far away, And I among them, in the hollow barks; And thou, my son, wilt either go with me, Where thou shalt toil at menial tasks for some Pitiless master; or perhaps some Greek Will seize thy little arm, and in his rage Will hurl thee from a tower and dash thee dead, Remembering how thy father, Hector, slew His brother, son, or father; for the hand Of Hector forced full many a Greek to bite The dust of earth. Not slow to smite was he In the fierce conflict; therefore all who dwell Within the city sorrow for his fall. Thou bringest an unutterable grief, O Hector, on thy parents, and on me The sharpest sorrows. Thou didst not stretch forth Thy hands to me, in dying, from thy couch, Nor speak a word to comfort me, which I Might ever think of night and day with tears." So spake the weeping wife: the women all Mingled their wail with hers, and Hecuba Took up the passionate lamentation next:- "O Hector, thou who wert most fondly loved Of all my sons! While yet thou wert alive, Dear wert thou to the gods, who even now, When death has overtaken thee, bestow Such care upon thee. All my other sons Whom swift Achilles took in war he sold At Samos, Imbrus, by the barren sea, And Lemnos harborless. But as for thee, When he had taken with his cruel spear Thy life, he dragged thee round and round the tomb Of his young friend, Patroclus, whom thy hand Had slain, yet raised he not by this the dead; And now thou liest in the palace here, Fresh and besprinkled as with early dew, Like one just slain with silent arrows aimed By Phœbus, bearer of the silver bow." Weeping she spake, and woke in all who heard Grief without measure. Helen, last of all, Took up the lamentation, and began: - "O Hector, who wert dearest to my heart Of all my husband's brothers, - for the wife Am I of godlike Paris, him whose fleet Brought me to Troy, - would I had sooner died! And now the twentieth year is past since first I came a stranger from my native shore, Yet have I never heard from thee a word Of anger or reproach. And when the sons Of Priam, and his daughters, and the wives Of Priam's sons, in all their fair array, Taunted me grievously, or Hecuba Herself, - for Priam ever was to me A gracious father, - thou didst take my part With kindly admonitions, and restrain Their tongues with soft address and gentle words. Therefore my heart is grieved, and I bewail Thee and myself at once, - unhappy me! For now I have no friend in all wide Troy, — None to be kind to me: they hate me all." Weeping she spake: the mighty throng again Answered with wailing. Priam then addressed The people: "Now bring wood, ye men of Troy, Into the city. Let there be no fear Of ambush from the Greeks, for when of late I left Achilles at the dark-hulled barks, He gave his promise to molest no more The men of Troy till the twelfth morn shall rise." He spake, and speedily they yoked the mules And oxen to the wains, and came in throngs Before the city walls. Nine days they toiled To bring the trunks of trees, and when the tenth Arose to light the abodes of men, they brought The corse of valiant Hector from the town With many tears, and laid it on the wood High up, and flung the fire to light the pile. Now when the early rosy-fingered Dawn Looked forth, the people gathered round the pile Of glorious Hector. When they all had come Together, first they quenched the funeral fires, Wherever they had spread, with dark-red wine, And then his brothers and companions searched For the white bones. In sorrow and in tears, That streaming stained their cheeks, they gathered them, And placed them in a golden urn. O'er this They drew a covering of soft purple robes, And laid it in a hollow grave, and piled Fragments of rock above it, many and huge. In haste they reared the tomb, with sentries set On every side, lest all too soon the Greeks Should come in armor to renew the war. When now the tomb was built, the multitude Returned, and in the halls where Priam dwelt, Nursling of Jove, were feasted royally. Such was the mighty Hector's burial rite.