{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_16452/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_16452","id":"gutenberg_16452","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16452","summary":null,"tags":["Achilles (Mythological character) -- Poetry","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Classical Antiquity","Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English","Poetry","Trojan War -- Poetry"],"text":"There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg\ncollection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in\nselecting the preferred file. Click on any of the filenumbers below to\nquickly view each ebook.\n\n22382    (With 800 linked footnotes, No illustrations)\n16452    (In blank verse, Many footnotes.)\n2199     (No footnotes or illustrations)\n6130     (Many line drawings, and 300 footnotes)\n3059\n6150\n\n\n\n\nTHE\nILIAD OF HOMER,\n\nTRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BLANK VERSE\nBY WILLIAM COWPER.\n\nZeus (Jupiter), seated upon an eagle\n\nEDITED BY ROBERT SOUTHEY. LL.D.\n\n\nWITH NOTES,\nBY M.A. DWIGHT,\nAUTHOR OF \u201cGRECIAN AND ROMAN MYTHOLOGY.\u201d\n\n\nNEW-YORK:\nD. APPLETON & CO., 346 & 348 BROADWAY.\nM.DCCC.LX.\n\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849,\n\nBy M.A. DWIGHT,\n\nin the Clerk\u2019s Office of the District Court for the Southern District\nof New York.\n\n\nTO THE\nRIGHT HONORABLE\nEARL COWPER,\nTHIS\nTRANSLATION OF THE ILIAD,\nTHE INSCRIPTION OF WHICH TO HIMSELF,\nTHE LATE LAMENTED EARL,\nBENEVOLENT TO ALL,\nAND ESPECIALLY KIND TO THE AUTHOR,\nHAD NOT DISDAINED TO ACCEPT\nIS HUMBLY OFFERED,\nAS A SMALL BUT GRATEFUL TRIBUTE,\nTO THE MEMORY OF HIS FATHER,\nBY HIS LORDSHIP\u2019S\nAFFECTIONATE KINSMAN AND SERVANT\n\nWILLIAM COWPER.\n_June 4, 1791._\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\nWhether a translation of Homer may be best executed in blank verse or\nin rhyme, is a question in the decision of which no man can find\ndifficulty, who has ever duly considered what translation ought to be,\nor who is in any degree practically acquainted with those very\ndifferent kinds of versification. I will venture to assert that a just\ntranslation of any ancient poet in rhyme, is impossible. No human\ningenuity can be equal to the task of closing every couplet with sounds\nhomotonous, expressing at the same time the full sense, and only the\nfull sense of his original. The translator\u2019s ingenuity, indeed, in this\ncase becomes itself a snare, and the readier he is at invention and\nexpedient, the more likely he is to be betrayed into the widest\ndepartures from the guide whom he professes to follow. Hence it has\nhappened, that although the public have long been in possession of an\nEnglish Homer by a poet whose writings have done immortal honor to his\ncountry, the demand of a new one, and especially in blank verse, has\nbeen repeatedly and loudly made by some of the best judges and ablest\nwriters of the present day.\n\nI have no contest with my predecessor. None is supposable between\nperformers on different instruments. Mr. Pope has surmounted all\ndifficulties in his version of Homer that it was possible to surmount\nin rhyme. But he was fettered, and his fetters were his choice.\nAccustomed always to rhyme, he had formed to himself an ear which\nprobably could not be much gratified by verse that wanted it, and\ndetermined to encounter even impossibilities, rather than abandon a\nmode of writing in which he had excelled every body, for the sake of\nanother to which, unexercised in it as he was, he must have felt strong\nobjections.\n\nI number myself among the warmest admirers of Mr. Pope as an original\nwriter, and I allow him all the merit he can justly claim as the\ntranslator of this chief of poets. He has given us the _Tale of Troy\ndivine_ in smooth verse, generally in correct and elegant language, and\nin diction often highly poetical. But his deviations are so many,\noccasioned chiefly by the cause already mentioned, that, much as he has\ndone, and valuable as his work is on some accounts, it was yet in the\nhumble province of a translator that I thought it possible even for me\nto fellow him with some advantage.\n\nThat he has sometimes altogether suppressed the sense of his author,\nand has not seldom intermingled his own ideas with it, is a remark\nwhich, on this occasion, nothing but necessity should have extorted\nfrom me. But we differ sometimes so widely in our matter, that unless\nthis remark, invidious as it seems, be premised, I know not how to\nobviate a suspicion, on the one hand, of careless oversight, or of\nfactitious embellishment on the other. On this head, therefore, the\nEnglish reader is to be admonished, that the matter found in me,\nwhether he like it or not, is found also in Homer, and that the matter\nnot found in me, how much soever he may admire it, is found only in Mr.\nPope. I have omitted nothing; I have invented nothing.\n\nThere is indisputably a wide difference between the case of an original\nwriter in rhyme and a translator. In an original work the author is\nfree; if the rhyme be of difficult attainment, and he cannot find it in\none direction, he is at liberty to seek it in another; the matter that\nwill not accommodate itself to his occasions he may discard, adopting\nsuch as will. But in a translation no such option is allowable; the\nsense of the author is required, and we do not surrender it willingly\neven to the plea of necessity. Fidelity is indeed of the very essence\nof translation, and the term itself implies it. For which reason, if we\nsuppress the sense of our original, and force into its place our own,\nwe may call our work an _imitation_, if we please, or perhaps a\n_paraphrase_, but it is no longer the same author only in a different\ndress, and therefore it is not translation. Should a painter,\nprofessing to draw the likeness of a beautiful woman, give her more or\nfewer features than belong to her, and a general cast of countenance of\nhis own invention, he might be said to have produced a _jeu d\u2019esprit_,\na curiosity perhaps in its way, but by no means the lady in question.\n\nIt will however be necessary to speak a little more largely to this\nsubject, on which discordant opinions prevail even among good judges.\n\nThe free and the close translation have, each, their advocates. But\ninconveniences belong to both. The former can hardly be true to the\noriginal author\u2019s style and manner, and the latter is apt to be\nservile. The one loses his peculiarities, and the other his spirit.\nWere it possible, therefore, to find an exact medium, a manner so close\nthat it should let slip nothing of the text, nor mingle any thing\nextraneous with it, and at the same time so free as to have an air of\noriginality, this seems precisely the mode in which an author might be\nbest rendered. I can assure my readers from my own experience, that to\ndiscover this very delicate line is difficult, and to proceed by it\nwhen found, through the whole length of a poet voluminous as Homer,\nnearly impossible. I can only pretend to have endeavored it.\n\nIt is an opinion commonly received, but, like many others, indebted for\nits prevalence to mere want of examination, that a translator should\nimagine to himself the style which his author would probably have used,\nhad the language into which he is rendered been his own. A direction\nwhich wants nothing but practicability to recommend it. For suppose six\npersons, equally qualified for the task, employed to translate the same\nAncient into their own language, with this rule to guide them. In the\nevent it would be found, that each had fallen on a manner different\nfrom that of all the rest, and by probable inference it would follow\nthat none had fallen on the right. On the whole, therefore, as has been\nsaid, the translation which partakes equally of fidelity and\nliberality, that is close, but not so close as to be servile, free, but\nnot so free as to be licentious, promises fairest; and my ambition will\nbe sufficiently gratified, if such of my readers as are able, and will\ntake the pains to compare me in this respect with Homer, shall judge\nthat I have in any measure attained a point so difficult.\n\nAs to energy and harmony, two grand requisites in a translation of this\nmost energetic and most harmonious of all poets, it is neither my\npurpose nor my wish, should I be found deficient in either, or in both,\nto shelter myself under an unfilial imputation of blame to my\nmother-tongue. Our language is indeed less musical than the Greek, and\nthere is no language with which I am at all acquainted that is not. But\nit is musical enough for the purposes of melodious verse, and if it\nseem to fail, on whatsoever occasion, in energy, the blame is due, not\nto itself, but to the unskilful manager of it. For so long as Milton\u2019s\nworks, whether his prose or his verse, shall exist, so long there will\nbe abundant proof that no subject, however important, however sublime,\ncan demand greater force of expression than is within the compass of\nthe English language.\n\nI have no fear of judges familiar with original Homer. They need not be\ntold that a translation of him is an arduous enterprise, and as such,\nentitled to some favor. From these, therefore, I shall expect, and\nshall not be disappointed, considerable candor and allowance.\nEspecially _they_ will be candid, and I believe that there are many\nsuch, who have occasionally tried their own strength in this _bow of\nUlysses_. They have not found it supple and pliable, and with me are\nperhaps ready to acknowledge that they could not always even approach\nwith it the mark of their ambition. But I would willingly, were it\npossible, obviate uncandid criticism, because to answer it is lost\nlabor, and to receive it in silence has the appearance of stately\nreserve, and self-importance.\n\nTo those, therefore, who shall be inclined to tell me hereafter that my\ndiction is often plain and unelevated, I reply beforehand that I know\nit,\u2014that it would be absurd were it otherwise, and that Homer himself\nstands in the same predicament. In fact, it is one of his numberless\nexcellences, and a point in which his judgment never fails him, that he\nis grand and lofty always in the right place, and knows infallibly how\nto rise and fall with his subject. _Big words on small matters_ may\nserve as a pretty exact definition of the burlesque; an instance of\nwhich they will find in the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, but none in\nthe Iliad.\n\nBy others I expect to be told that my numbers, though here and there\ntolerably smooth, are not always such, but have, now and then, an ugly\nhitch in their gait, ungraceful in itself, and inconvenient to the\nreader. To this charge also I plead guilty, but beg leave in\nalleviation of judgment to add, that my limping lines are not numerous,\ncompared with those that limp not. The truth is, that not one of them\nall escaped me, but, such as they are, they were all made such with a\nwilful intention. In poems of great length there is no blemish more to\nbe feared than sameness of numbers, and every art is useful by which it\nmay be avoided. A line, rough in itself, has yet its recommendations;\nit saves the ear the pain of an irksome monotony, and seems even to add\ngreater smoothness to others. Milton, whose ear and taste were\nexquisite, has exemplified in his Paradise Lost the effect of this\npractice frequently.\n\nHaving mentioned Milton, I cannot but add an observation on the\nsimilitude of his manner to that of Homer. It is such, that no person\nfamiliar with both, can read either without being reminded of the\nother; and it is in those breaks and pauses, to which the numbers of\nthe English poet are so much indebted both for their dignity and\nvariety, that he chiefly copies the Grecian. But these are graces to\nwhich rhyme is not competent; so broken, it loses all its music; of\nwhich any person may convince himself by reading a page only of any of\nour poets anterior to Denham, Waller, and Dryden. A translator of\nHomer, therefore, seems directed by Homer himself to the use of blank\nverse, as to that alone in which he can be rendered with any tolerable\nrepresentation of his manner in this particular. A remark which I am\nnaturally led to make by a desire to conciliate, if possible, some,\nwho, rather unreasonably partial to rhyme, demand it on all occasions,\nand seem persuaded that poetry in our language is a vain attempt\nwithout it. Verse, that claims to be verse in right of its metre only,\nthey judge to be such rather by courtesy than by kind, on an\napprehension that it costs the writer little trouble, that he has only\nto give his lines their prescribed number of syllables, and so far as\nthe mechanical part is concerned, all is well. Were this true, they\nwould have reason on their side; for the author is certainly best\nentitled to applause who succeeds against the greatest difficulty, and\nin verse that calls for the most artificial management in its\nconstruction. But the case is not as they suppose. To rhyme, in our\nlanguage, demands no great exertion of ingenuity, but is always easy to\na person exercised in the practice. Witness the multitudes who rhyme,\nbut have no other poetical pretensions. Let it be considered too, how\nmerciful we are apt to be to unclassical and indifferent language for\nthe sake of rhyme, and we shall soon see that the labor lies\nprincipally on the other side. Many ornaments of no easy purchase are\nrequired to atone for the absence of this single recommendation. It is\nnot sufficient that the lines of blank verse be smooth in themselves,\nthey must also be harmonious in the combination. Whereas the chief\nconcern of the rhymist is to beware that his couplets and his sense be\ncommensurate, lest the regularity of his numbers should be (too\nfrequently at least) interrupted. A trivial difficulty this, compared\nwith those which attend the poet unaccompanied by his bells. He, in\norder that he may be musical, must exhibit all the variations, as he\nproceeds, of which ten syllables are susceptible; between the first\nsyllable and the last there is no place at which he must not\noccasionally pause, and the place of the pause must be perpetually\nshifted. To effect this variety, his attention must be given, at one\nand the same time, to the pauses he has already made in the period\nbefore him, as well as to that which he is about to make, and to those\nwhich shall succeed it. On no lighter terms than these is it possible\nthat blank verse can be written which will not, in the course of a long\nwork, fatigue the ear past all endurance. If it be easier, therefore,\nto throw five balls into the air and to catch them in succession, than\nto sport in that manner with one only, then may blank verse be more\neasily fabricated than rhyme. And if to these labors we add others\nequally requisite, a style in general more elaborate than rhyme\nrequires, farther removed from the vernacular idiom both in the\nlanguage itself and in the arrangement of it, we shall not long doubt\nwhich of these two very different species of verse threatens the\ncomposer with most expense of study and contrivance. I feel it\nunpleasant to appeal to my own experience, but, having no other voucher\nat hand, am constrained to it. As I affirm, so I have found. I have\ndealt pretty largely in both kinds, and have frequently written more\nverses in a day, with tags, than I could ever write without them. To\nwhat has been here said (which whether it have been said by others or\nnot, I cannot tell, having never read any modern book on the subject) I\nshall only add, that to be poetical without rhyme, is an argument of a\nsound and classical constitution in any language.\n\nA word or two on the subject of the following translation, and I have\ndone.\n\nMy chief boast is that I have adhered closely to my original, convinced\nthat every departure from him would be punished with the forfeiture of\nsome grace or beauty for which I could substitute no equivalent. The\nepithets that would consent to an English form I have preserved as\nepithets; others that would not, I have melted into the context. There\nare none, I believe, which I have not translated in one way or other,\nthough the reader will not find them repeated so often as most of them\nare in Homer, for a reason that need not be mentioned.\n\nFew persons of any consideration are introduced either in the Iliad or\nOdyssey by their own name only, but their patronymic is given also. To\nthis ceremonial I have generally attended, because it is a circumstance\nof my author\u2019s manner.\n\nHomer never allots less than a whole line to the introduction of a\nspeaker. No, not even when the speech itself is no longer than the line\nthat leads it. A practice to which, since he never departs from it, he\nmust have been determined by some cogent reason. He probably deemed it\na formality necessary to the majesty of his narration. In this article,\ntherefore, I have scrupulously adhered to my pattern, considering these\nintroductory lines as heralds in a procession; important persons,\nbecause employed to usher in persons more important than themselves.\n\nIt has been my point every where to be as little verbose as possible,\nthough; at the same time, my constant determination not to sacrifice my\nauthor\u2019s full meaning to an affected brevity.\n\nIn the affair of style, I have endeavored neither to creep nor to\nbluster, for no author is so likely to betray his translator into both\nthese faults, as Homer, though himself never guilty of either. I have\ncautiously avoided all terms of new invention, with an abundance of\nwhich, persons of more ingenuity than judgment have not enriched our\nlanguage, but incumbered it. I have also every where used an\nunabbreviated fullness of phrase as most suited to the nature of the\nwork, and, above all, have studied perspicuity, not only because verse\nis good for little that wants it, but because Homer is the most\nperspicuous of all poets.\n\nIn all difficult places I have consulted the best commentators, and\nwhere they have differed, or have given, as is often the case, a\nvariety of solutions, I have ever exercised my best judgment, and\nselected that which appears, at least to myself, the most probable\ninterpretation. On this ground, and on account of the fidelity which I\nhave already boasted, I may venture, I believe, to recommend my work as\npromising some usefulness to young students of the original.\n\nThe passages which will be least noticed, and possibly not at all,\nexcept by those who shall wish to find me at a fault, are those which\nhave cost me abundantly the most labor. It is difficult to kill a sheep\nwith dignity in a modern language, to flay and to prepare it for the\ntable, detailing every circumstance of the process. Difficult also,\nwithout sinking below the level of poetry, to harness mules to a wagon,\nparticularizing every article of their furniture, straps, rings,\nstaples, and even the tying of the knots that kept all together. Homer,\nwho writes always to the eye, with all his sublimity and grandeur, has\nthe minuteness of a Flemish painter.\n\nBut in what degree I have succeeded in my version either of these\npassages, and such as these, or of others more buoyant and\nabove-ground, and especially of the most sublime, is now submitted to\nthe decision of the reader, to whom I am ready enough to confess that I\nhave not at all consulted their approbation, who account nothing grand\nthat is not turgid, or elegant that is not bedizened with metaphor.\n\nI purposely decline all declamation on the merits of Homer, because a\ntranslator\u2019s praises of his author are liable to a suspicion of dotage,\nand because it were impossible to improve on those which this author\nhas received already. He has been the wonder of all countries that his\nworks have ever reached, even deified by the greatest names of\nantiquity, and in some places actually worshipped. And to say truth,\nwere it possible that mere man could entitle himself by pre-eminence of\nany kind to divine honors, Homer\u2019s astonishing powers seem to have\ngiven him the best pretensions.\n\nI cannot conclude without due acknowledgments to the best critic in\nHomer I have ever met with, the learned and ingenious Mr. Fuseli.\nUnknown as he was to me when I entered on this arduous undertaking\n(indeed to this moment I have never seen him) he yet voluntarily and\ngenerously offered himself as my revisor. To his classical taste and\njust discernment I have been indebted for the discovery of many\nblemishes in my own work, and of beauties, which would otherwise have\nescaped me, in the original. But his necessary avocations would not\nsuffer him to accompany me farther than to the latter books of the\nIliad, a circumstance which I fear my readers, as well as myself, will\nregret with too much reason.[1]\n\nI have obligations likewise to many friends, whose names, were it\nproper to mention them here, would do me great honor. They have\nencouraged me by their approbation, have assisted me with valuable\nbooks, and have eased me of almost the whole labor of transcribing.\n\nAnd now I have only to regret that my pleasant work is ended. To the\nillustrious Greek I owe the smooth and easy flight of many thousand\nhours. He has been my companion at home and abroad, in the study, in\nthe garden, and in the field; and no measure of success, let my labors\nsucceed as they may, will ever compensate to me the loss of the\ninnocent luxury that I have enjoyed, as a translator of Homer.\n\nFootnote:\n\nSome of the few notes subjoined to my translation of the Odyssey are by\nMr. Fuseli, who had a short opportunity to peruse the MSS. while the\nIliad was printing. They are marked with his initial.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nPREPARED BY MR. COWPER,\nFOR A\nSECOND EDITION.\n\nSoon after my publication of this work, I began to prepare it for a\nsecond edition, by an accurate revisal of the first. It seemed to me,\nthat here and there, perhaps a slight alteration might satisfy the\ndemands of some, whom I was desirous to please; and I comforted myself\nwith the reflection, that if I still failed to conciliate all, I should\nyet have no cause to account myself in a singular degree unfortunate.\nTo please an unqualified judge, an author must sacrifice too much; and\nthe attempt to please an uncandid one were altogether hopeless. In one\nor other of these classes may be ranged all such objectors, as would\ndeprive blank verse of one of its principal advantages, the variety of\nits pauses; together with all such as deny the good effect, on the\nwhole, of a line, now and then, less harmonious than its fellows.\n\nWith respect to the pauses, it has been affirmed with an unaccountable\nrashness, that Homer himself has given me an example of verse without\nthem. Had this been true, it would by no means have concluded against\nthe use of them in an English version of Homer; because, in one\nlanguage, and in one species of metre, that may be musical, which in\nanother would be found disgusting. But the assertion is totally\nunfounded. The pauses in Homer\u2019s verse are so frequent and various,\nthat to name another poet, if pauses are a fault, more faulty than he,\nwere, perhaps, impossible. It may even be questioned, if a single\npassage of ten lines flowing with uninterrupted smoothness could be\nsingled out from all the thousands that he has left us. He frequently\npauses at the first word of the line, when it consists of three or more\nsyllables; not seldom when of two; and sometimes even when of one only.\nIn this practice he was followed, as was observed in my Preface to the\nfirst edition, by the Author of the Paradise Lost. An example\ninimitable indeed, but which no writer of English heroic verse without\nrhyme can neglect with impunity.\n\nSimilar to this is the objection which proscribes absolutely the\noccasional use of a line irregularly constructed. When Horace censured\nLucilius for his lines _incomposite pede currentes_, he did not mean to\nsay, that he was chargeable with such in some instances, or even in\nmany, for then the censure would have been equally applicable to\nhimself; but he designed by that expression to characterize all his\nwritings. The censure therefore was just; Lucilius wrote at a time when\nthe Roman verse had not yet received its polish, and instead of\nintroducing artfully his rugged lines, and to serve a particular\npurpose, had probably seldom, and never but by accident, composed a\nsmooth one. Such has been the versification of the earliest poets in\nevery country. Children lisp, at first, and stammer; but, in time,\ntheir speech becomes fluent, and, if they are well taught, harmonious.\n\nHomer himself is not invariably regular in the construction of his\nverse. Had he been so, Eustathius, an excellent critic and warm admirer\nof Homer, had never affirmed, that some of his lines want a head, some\na tail, and others a middle. Some begin with a word that is neither\ndactyl nor spondee, some conclude with a dactyl, and in the\nintermediate part he sometimes deviates equally from the established\ncustom. I confess that instances of this sort are rare; but they are\nsurely, though few, sufficient to warrant a sparing use of similar\nlicense in the present day.\n\nUnwilling, however, to seem obstinate in both these particulars, I\nconformed myself in some measure to these objections, though\nunconvinced myself of their propriety. Several of the rudest and most\nunshapely lines I composed anew; and several of the pauses least in use\nI displaced for the sake of an easier enunciation.\u2014And this was the\nstate of the work after the revisal given it about seven years since.\n\nBetween that revisal and the present a considerable time intervened,\nand the effect of long discontinuance was, that I became more\ndissatisfied with it myself, than the most difficult to be pleased of\nall my judges. Not for the sake of a few uneven lines or unwonted\npauses, but for reasons far more substantial. The diction seemed to me\nin many passages either not sufficiently elevated, or deficient in the\ngrace of ease, and in others I found the sense of the original either\nnot adequately expressed or misapprehended. Many elisions still\nremained unsoftened; the compound epithets I found not always happily\ncombined, and the same sometimes too frequently repeated.\n\nThere is no end of passages in Homer, which must creep unless they are\nlifted; yet in such, all embellishment is out of the question. The hero\nputs on his clothes, or refreshes himself with food and wine, or he\nyokes his steed, takes a journey, and in the evening preparation is\nmade for his repose. To give relief to subjects prosaic as these\nwithout seeming unreasonably tumid is extremely difficult. Mr. Pope\nmuch abridges some of them, and others he omits; but neither of these\nliberties was compatible with the nature of my undertaking. These,\ntherefore, and many similar to these, have been new-modeled; somewhat\nto their advantage I hope, but not even now entirely to my\nsatisfaction. The lines have a more natural movement, the pauses are\nfewer and less stately, the expression as easy as I could make it\nwithout meanness, and these were all the improvements that I could give\nthem.\n\nThe elisions, I believe, are all cured, with only one exception. An\nalternative proposes itself to a modern versifier, from which there is\nno escape, which occurs perpetually, and which, choose as he may,\npresents him always with an evil. I mean in the instance of the\nparticle (_the_). When this particle precedes a vowel, shall he melt it\ninto the substantive, or leave the _hiatus_ open? Both practices are\noffensive to a delicate ear. The particle absorbed occasions harshness,\nand the open vowel a vacuity equally inconvenient. Sometimes,\ntherefore, to leave it open, and sometimes to ingraft it into its\nadjunct seems most advisable; this course Mr. Pope has taken, whose\nauthority recommended it to me; though of the two evils I have most\nfrequently chosen the elision as the least.\n\nCompound epithets have obtained so long in the poetical language of our\ncountry, that I employed them without fear or scruple. To have\nabstained from them in a blank verse translation of Homer, who abounds\nwith them, and from whom our poets probably first adopted them, would\nhave been strange indeed. But though the genius of our language favors\nthe formation of such words almost as much as that of the Greek, it\nhappens sometimes, that a Grecian compound either cannot be rendered in\nEnglish at all, or, at best, but awkwardly. For this reason, and\nbecause I found that some readers much disliked them, I have expunged\nmany; retaining, according to my best judgment, the most eligible only,\nand making less frequent the repetitions even of these.\n\nI know not that I can add any thing material on the subject of this\nlast revisal, unless it be proper to give the reason why the Iliad,\nthough greatly altered, has undergone much fewer alterations than the\nOdyssey. The true reason I believe is this. The Iliad demanded my\nutmost possible exertions; it seemed to meet me like an ascent almost\nperpendicular, which could not be surmounted at less cost than of all\nthe labor that I could bestow on it. The Odyssey on the contrary seemed\nto resemble an open and level country, through which I might travel at\nmy ease. The latter, therefore, betrayed me into some negligence,\nwhich, though little conscious of it at the time, on an accurate\nsearch, I found had left many disagreeable effects behind it.\n\nI now leave the work to its fate. Another may labor hereafter in an\nattempt of the same kind with more success; but more industriously, I\nbelieve, none ever will.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nBY\nJ. JOHNSON, LL.B.\nCHAPLAIN TO THE BISHOP OF PETERBOROUGH.\n\nI have no other pretensions to the honorable name of Editor on this\noccasion, than as a faithful transcriber of the Manuscript, and a\ndiligent corrector of the Press, which are, doubtless, two of the very\nhumblest employments in that most extensive province. I have wanted the\nability to attempt any thing higher; and, fortunately for the reader, I\nhave also wanted the presumption. What, however, I can do, I will.\nInstead of critical remark, I will furnish him with anecdote. He shall\ntrace from beginning to end the progress of the following work; and in\nproportion as I have the happiness to engage his attention, I shall\nmerit the name of a fortunate editor.\n\nIt was in the darkest season of a most calamitous depression of his\nspirits, that I was summoned to the house of my inestimable friend the\nTranslator, in the month of January, 1794. He had happily completed a\nrevisal of his Homer, and was thinking of the preface to his new\nedition, when all his satisfaction in the one, and whatever he had\nprojected for the other, in a moment vanished from his mind. He had\nfallen into a deplorable illness; and though the foremost wish of my\nheart was to lessen the intenseness of his misery, I was utterly unable\nto afford him any aid.\n\nI had, however, a pleasing though a melancholy opportunity of tracing\nhis recent footsteps in the Field of Troy, and in the Palace of Ithaca.\nHe had materially altered both the Iliad and Odyssey; and, so far as my\nability allowed me to judge, they were each of them greatly improved.\nHe had also, at the request of his bookseller, interspersed the two\npoems with copious notes; for the most part translations of the ancient\nScholia, and gleaned, at the cost of many valuable hours, from the\npages of Barnes, Clarke, and Villoisson. It has been a constant subject\nof regret to the admirers of \u201cThe Task,\u201d that the exercise of such\nmarvelous original powers, should have been so long suspended by the\ndrudgery of translation; and in this view, their quarrel with the\nillustrious Greek will be, doubtless, extended to his commentators.[1]\n\nDuring two long years from this most anxious period, the translation\ncontinued as it was; and though, in the hope of its being able to\ndivert his melancholy, I had attempted more than once to introduce it\nto its Author, I was every time painfully obliged to desist. But in the\nsummer of ninety-six, when he had resided with me in Norfolk twelve\nmiserable months, the introduction long wished for took place. To my\ninexpressible astonishment and joy, I surprised him, one morning, with\nthe Iliad in his hand; and with an excess of delight, which I am still\nmore unable to describe, I the next day discovered that he had been\nwriting.\u2014Were I to mention one of the happiest moments of my life, it\nmight be that which introduced me to the following lines:\u2014\n\nMistaken meanings corrected,\nadmonente G. Wakefield. B. XXIII. L. 429.\tthat the nave\nOf thy neat wheel seem e\u2019en to grind upon it. L. 865.\tAs when (the\nnorth wind freshening) near the bank\nUp springs a fish in air, then falls again\nAnd disappears beneath the sable flood,\nSo at the stroke, he bounded. L. 1018.\tThenceforth Tydides o\u2019er his\nample shield\nAim\u2019d and still aim\u2019d to pierce him in the neck. Or better thus\u2014\nTydides, in return, with spear high-poised\nO\u2019er the broad shield, aim\u2019d ever at his neck, Or best of all\u2014 Then\nTydeus\u2019 son, with spear high-poised above\nThe ample shield, stood aiming at his neck.\n\nHe had written these lines with a pencil, on a leaf at the end of his\nIliad; and when I reflected on the cause which had given them birth, I\ncould not but admire its disproportion to the effect. What the voice of\npersuasion had failed in for a year, accident had silently accomplished\nin a single day. The circumstance I allude to was this: I received a\ncopy of the Iliad and Odyssey of Pope, then recently published by the\nEditor above mentioned, with illustrative and critical notes of his\nown. As it commended Mr. Cowper\u2019s Translation in the Preface, and\noccasionally pointed out its merits in the Notes, I was careful to\nplace it in his way; though it was more from a habit of experiment\nwhich I had contracted, than from well-grounded hopes of success. But\nwhat a fortunate circumstance was the arrival of this Work! and by what\nname worthy of its influence shall I call it? In the mouth of an\nindifferent person it might be Chance; but in mine; whom it rendered so\npeculiarly happy, common gratitude requires that it should be\nProvidence.\n\nAs I watched him with an indescribable interest in his progress, I had\nthe satisfaction to find, that, after a few mornings given to\npromiscuous correction, and to frequent perusal of the above-mentioned\nNotes, he was evidently settling on the sixteenth Book. This he went\nregularly through, and the fruits of an application so happily resumed\nwere, one day with another, about sixty new lines. But with the end of\nthe sixteenth Book he had closed the corrections of the year. An\nexcursion to the coast, which immediately followed, though it promised\nan accession of strength to the body, could not fail to interfere with\nthe pursuits of the mind. It was therefore with much less surprise than\nregret, that I saw him relinquish the \u201c_Tale of Troy Divine_.\u201d\n\nSuch was the prelude to the last revisal, which, in the month of\nJanuary, ninety-seven, Mr. Cowper was persuaded to undertake; and to a\nfaithful copy, as I trust, of which, I have at this time the honor to\nconduct the reader. But it may not be amiss to observe, that with\nregard to the earlier books of the Iliad, it was less a revisal of the\naltered text, than of the text as it stands in the first edition. For\nthough the interleaved copy was always at hand, and in the multitude of\nits altered places could hardly fail to offer some things worthy to be\npreserved, but which the ravages of illness and the lapse of time might\nhave utterly effaced from his mind, I could not often persuade the\nTranslator to consult it. I was therefore induced, in the course of\ntranscribing, to compare the two revisals as I went along, and to plead\nfor the continuance of the first correction, when it forcibly struck me\nas better than the last. This, however, but seldom occurred; and the\npractice, at length, was completely left off, by his consenting to\nreceive into the number of the books which were daily laid open before\nhim, the interleaved copy to which I allude.\n\nAt the end of the first six books of the Iliad, the arrival of spring\nbrought the usual interruptions of exercise and air, which increased as\nthe summer advanced to a degree so unfavorable to the progress of\nHomer, that in the requisite attention to their salutary claims, the\nrevisal was, at one time, altogether at a stand. Only four books were\nadded in the course of nine months; but opportunity returning as the\nwinter set in, there were added, in less than seven weeks, four more:\nand thus ended the year ninety-seven.\n\nAs the spring that succeeded was a happier spring, so it led to a\nhappier summer. We had no longer air and exercise alone, but exercise\nand Homer hand in hand. He even followed us thrice to the sea: and\nwhether our walks were\n\n\u201con the margin of the land,\nO\u2019er the green summit of the\u201d cliffs, \u201cwhose base\nBeats back the roaring surge,\u201d\n\u201cor on the shore\nOf the untillable and barren deep,\u201d\n\nthey were always within hearing of his magic song. About the middle of\nthis busy summer, the revisal of the Iliad was brought to a close; and\non the very next day, the 24th of July, the correction of the Odyssey\ncommenced,\u2014a morning rendered memorable by a kind and unexpected visit\nfrom the patroness of that work, the Dowager Lady Spencer!\n\nIt is not my intention to detain the reader with a progressive account\nof the Odyssey revised, as circumstantial as that of the Iliad, because\nit went on smoothly from beginning to end, and was finished in less\nthan eight months.\n\nI cannot deliver these volumes to the public without feeling emotions\nof gratitude toward Heaven, in recollecting how often this corrected\nWork has appeared to me an instrument of Divine mercy, to mitigate the\nsufferings of my excellent relation. Its progress in our private hours\nwas singularly medicinal to his mind: may its presentment to the Public\nprove not less conducive to the honor of the departed Author, who has\nevery claim to my veneration! As a copious life of the Poet is already\nin the press, from the pen of his intimate friend Mr. Hayley, it is\nunnecessary for me to enter on such extensive commendation of his\ncharacter, as my own intimacy with him might suggest; but I hope the\nreader will kindly allow me the privilege of indulging, in some degree,\nthe feelings of my heart, by applying to him, in the close of this\nPreface, an expressive verse (borrowed from Homer) which he inscribed\nhimself, with some little variation, on a bust of his Grecian Favorite.\n\n\n\u03a9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1 \u03c9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5.\n\nLoved as his Son, in him I early found\nA Father, such as I will ne\u2019er forget.\n\n\nFootnote:\n\nVery few signatures had at this time been affixed to the notes; but I\nafterward compared them with the Greek, note by note, and endeavored to\nsupply the defect; more especially in the last three Volumes, where the\nreader will be pleased to observe that all the notes without signatures\nare Mr. Cowper\u2019s, and that those marked B.C.V. are respectively found\nin the editions of Homer by Barnes, Clarke, and Villoisson. But the\nemployment was so little to the taste and inclination of the poet, that\nhe never afterward revised them, or added to their number more than\nthese which follow;\u2014In the Odyssey, Vol. I. Book xi., the note 32.\u2014Vol.\nII. Book xv., the note 13.\u2014The note10 Book xvi., of that volume, and\nthe note 14, Book xix., of the same.\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT TO SOUTHEY\u2019S EDITION\n\n\nIt is incumbent upon the present Editor to state the reasons which have\ninduced him, between two editions of Cowper\u2019s Homer, differing so\nmaterially from each other that they might almost be deemed different\nversions, to prefer the first.\n\nWhoever has perused the Translator\u2019s letters, must have perceived that\nhe had considered with no ordinary care the scheme of his\nversification, and that when he resolved upon altering it in a second\nedition, it was in deference to the opinion of others.\n\nIt seems to the Editor that Cowper\u2019s own judgment is entitled to more\nrespect, than that of any, or all his critics; and that the version\nwhich he composed when his faculties were most active and his spirits\nleast subject to depression,\u2014indeed in the happiest part of his\nlife,\u2014ought not to be superseded by a revisal, or rather\nreconstruction, which was undertaken three years before his death,\u2014not\nlike the first translation as \u201ca pleasant work, an innocent luxury,\u201d\nthe cheerful and delightful occupation of hope and ardor and\nambition,\u2014but as a \u201chopeless employment,\u201d a task to which he gave \u201call\nhis miserable days, and often many hours of the night,\u201d seeking to\nbeguile the sense of utter wretchedness, by altering as if for the sake\nof alteration.\n\nThe Editor has been confirmed in this opinion by the concurrence of\nevery person with whom he has communicated on the subject. Among others\nhe takes the liberty of mentioning Mr. Cary, whose authority upon such\na question is of especial weight, the Translator of Dante being the\nonly one of our countrymen who has ever executed a translation of equal\nmagnitude and not less difficulty, with the same perfect fidelity and\nadmirable skill.\n\nIn support of this determination, the case of Tasso may be cited as\ncuriously in point. The great Italian poet altered his Jerusalem like\nCowper, against his own judgment, in submission to his critics: he made\nthe alteration in the latter years of his life, and in a diseased state\nof mind; and he proceeded upon the same prescribed rule of smoothing\ndown his versification, and removing all the elisions. The consequence\nhas been that the reconstructed poem is utterly neglected, and has\nrarely, if ever, been reprinted, except in the two great editions of\nhis collected works; while the original poem has been and continues to\nbe in such demand, that the most diligent bibliographer might vainly\nattempt to enumerate all the editions through which it has passed.\n\n\n\n\nEDITOR\u2019S NOTE.\n\n\nIt will be seen by the Advertisement to Southey\u2019s edition of Cowper\u2019s\nTranslation of the Iliad, that he has the highest opinion of its\nmerits, and that he also gives the preference to Cowper\u2019s unrevised\nedition. The Editor of the present edition is happy to offer it to the\npublic under the sanction of such high authority.\n\nIn the addition of notes I have availed myself of the learning of\nvarious commentators (Pope, Coleridge, M\u00fcller, etc.) and covet no\nhigher praise than the approval of my judgment in the selection.\n\nThose bearing the signature E.P.P., were furnished by my friend Miss\nPeabody, of Boston. I would also acknowledge my obligations to C.C.\nFelton, Eliot Professor of Greek in Harvard University. It should be\nobserved, that the remarks upon the language of the poem refer to it in\nthe original.\n\nFor a definite treatment of the character of each deity introduced in\nthe Iliad, and for the fable of the Judgment of Paris, which was the\nprimary cause of the Trojan war, the reader is referred to \u201cGrecian and\nRoman Mythology.\u201d\n\nIt is intended that this edition of the Iliad shall be followed by a\nsimilar one of the Odyssey, provided sufficient encouragement is given\nby the demand for the present volume.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n BOOK I.\n BOOK II.\n BOOK III.\n BOOK IV.\n BOOK V.\n BOOK VI.\n BOOK VII.\n BOOK VIII.\n BOOK IX.\n BOOK X.\n BOOK XI.\n BOOK XII.\n BOOK XIII.\n BOOK XIV.\n BOOK XV.\n BOOK XVI.\n BOOK XVII.\n BOOK XVIII.\n BOOK XIX.\n BOOK XX.\n BOOK XXI.\n BOOK XXII.\n BOOK XXIII.\n BOOK XXIV.\n\n\n\n\nTHE\nILIAD OF HOMER,\nTRANSLATED INTO\nENGLISH BLANK VERSE.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK.\n\nThe book opens with an account of a pestilence that prevailed in the\nGrecian camp, and the cause of it is assigned. A council is called, in\nwhich fierce altercation takes place between Agamemnon and Achilles.\nThe latter solemnly renounces the field. Agamemnon, by his heralds,\ndemands Bris\u00ebis, and Achilles resigns her. He makes his complaint to\nThetis, who undertakes to plead his cause with Jupiter. She pleads it,\nand prevails. The book concludes with an account of what passed in\nHeaven on that occasion.\n\n\n[The reader will please observe, that by Achaians, Argives, Dana\u00ef, are\nsignified Grecians. Homer himself having found these various\nappellatives both graceful and convenient, it seemed unreasonable that\na Translator of him should be denied the same advantage.\u2014Tr.]\n\n\nBOOK I.\n\n\nAchilles sing, O Goddess! Peleus\u2019 son;\nHis wrath pernicious, who ten thousand woes\nCaused to Achaia\u2019s host, sent many a soul\nIllustrious into Ades premature,\nAnd Heroes gave (so stood the will of Jove)5\nTo dogs and to all ravening fowls a prey,\nWhen fierce dispute had separated once\nThe noble Chief Achilles from the son\nOf Atreus, Agamemnon, King of men.\nWho them to strife impell\u2019d? What power divine?10\nLatona\u2019s son and Jove\u2019s.[1] For he, incensed\nAgainst the King, a foul contagion raised\nIn all the host, and multitudes destroy\u2019d,\nFor that the son of Atreus had his priest\nDishonored, Chryses. To the fleet he came15\nBearing rich ransom glorious to redeem\nHis daughter, and his hands charged with the wreath\nAnd golden sceptre[2] of the God shaft-arm\u2019d.\nHis supplication was at large to all\nThe host of Greece, but most of all to two,20\nThe sons of Atreus, highest in command.\nYe gallant Chiefs, and ye their gallant host,\n(So may the Gods who in Olympus dwell\nGive Priam\u2019s treasures to you for a spoil\nAnd ye return in safety,) take my gifts25\nAnd loose my child, in honor of the son\nOf Jove, Apollo, archer of the skies.[3]\nAt once the voice of all was to respect\nThe priest, and to accept the bounteous price;\nBut so it pleased not Atreus\u2019 mighty son,30\nWho with rude threatenings stern him thence dismiss\u2019d.\nBeware, old man! that at these hollow barks\nI find thee not now lingering, or henceforth\nReturning, lest the garland of thy God\nAnd his bright sceptre should avail thee nought.35\nI will not loose thy daughter, till old age\nSteal on her. From her native country far,\nIn Argos, in my palace, she shall ply\nThe loom, and shall be partner of my bed.\nMove me no more. Begone; hence while thou may\u2019st.40\nHe spake, the old priest trembled and obey\u2019d.\nForlorn he roamed the ocean\u2019s sounding shore,\nAnd, solitary, with much prayer his King\nBright-hair\u2019d Latona\u2019s son, Ph\u0153bus, implored.[4]\nGod of the silver bow, who with thy power45\nEncirclest Chrysa, and who reign\u2019st supreme\nIn Tenedos and Cilla the divine,\nSminthian[5] Apollo![6] If I e\u2019er adorned\nThy beauteous fane, or on the altar burn\u2019d\nThe fat acceptable of bulls or goats,50\nGrant my petition. With thy shafts avenge\nOn the Achaian host thy servant\u2019s tears.\nSuch prayer he made, and it was heard.[7] The God,\nDown from Olympus with his radiant bow\nAnd his full quiver o\u2019er his shoulder slung,55\nMarched in his anger; shaken as he moved\nHis rattling arrows told of his approach.\nGloomy he came as night; sat from the ships\nApart, and sent an arrow. Clang\u2019d the cord\n[8]Dread-sounding, bounding on the silver bow.[9]60\nMules first and dogs he struck,[10] but at themselves\nDispatching soon his bitter arrows keen,\nSmote them. Death-piles on all sides always blazed.\nNine days throughout the camp his arrows flew;\nThe tenth, Achilles from all parts convened65\nThe host in council. Juno the white-armed\nMoved at the sight of Grecians all around\nDying, imparted to his mind the thought.[11]\nThe full assembly, therefore, now convened,\nUprose Achilles ardent, and began.70\n\nAtrides! Now, it seems, no course remains\nFor us, but that the seas roaming again,\nWe hence return; at least if we survive;\nBut haste, consult we quick some prophet here\nOr priest, or even interpreter of dreams,75\n(For dreams are also of Jove,) that we may learn\nBy what crime we have thus incensed Apollo,\nWhat broken vow, what hecatomb unpaid\nHe charges on us, and if soothed with steam\nOf lambs or goats unblemish\u2019d, he may yet80\nBe won to spare us, and avert the plague.\nHe spake and sat, when Thestor\u2019s son arose\nCalchas, an augur foremost in his art,\nWho all things, present, past, and future knew,\nAnd whom his skill in prophecy, a gift85\nConferred by Ph\u0153bus on him, had advanced\nTo be conductor of the fleet to Troy;\nHe, prudent, them admonishing, replied.[12]\nJove-loved Achilles! Wouldst thou learn from me\nWhat cause hath moved Apollo to this wrath,90\nThe shaft-arm\u2019d King? I shall divulge the cause.\nBut thou, swear first and covenant on thy part\nThat speaking, acting, thou wilt stand prepared\nTo give me succor; for I judge amiss,\nOr he who rules the Argives, the supreme95\nO\u2019er all Achaia\u2019s host, will be incensed.\nWo to the man who shall provoke the King\nFor if, to-day, he smother close his wrath,\nHe harbors still the vengeance, and in time\nPerforms it. Answer, therefore, wilt thou save me?100\nTo whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.\nWhat thou hast learn\u2019d in secret from the God\nThat speak, and boldly. By the son of Jove,\nApollo, whom thou, Calchas, seek\u2019st in prayer\nMade for the Dana\u00ef, and who thy soul105\nFills with futurity, in all the host\nThe Grecian lives not, who while I shall breathe,\nAnd see the light of day, shall in this camp\nOppress thee; no, not even if thou name\nHim, Agamemnon, sovereign o\u2019er us all.110\nThen was the seer embolden\u2019d, and he spake.\nNor vow nor hecatomb unpaid on us\nHe charges, but the wrong done to his priest\nWhom Agamemnon slighted when he sought\nHis daughter\u2019s freedom, and his gifts refused.115\nHe is the cause. Apollo for his sake\nAfflicts and will afflict us, neither end\nNor intermission of his heavy scourge\nGranting, till unredeem\u2019d, no price required,\nThe black-eyed maid be to her father sent,120\nAnd a whole hecatomb in Chrysa bleed.\nThen, not before, the God may be appeased.\nHe spake and sat; when Atreus\u2019 son arose,\nThe Hero Agamemnon, throned supreme.\nTempests of black resentment overcharged125\nHis heart, and indignation fired his eyes.\nOn Calchas lowering, him he first address\u2019d.\nProphet of mischief! from whose tongue no note\nOf grateful sound to me, was ever heard;\nIll tidings are thy joy, and tidings glad130\nThou tell\u2019st not, or thy words come not to pass.\nAnd now among the Dana\u00ef thy dreams\nDivulging, thou pretend\u2019st the Archer-God\nFor his priest\u2019s sake, our enemy, because\nI scorn\u2019d his offer\u2019d ransom of the maid135\nChrys\u00ebis, more desirous far to bear\nHer to my home, for that she charms me more\nThan Clytemnestra, my own first espoused,\nWith whom, in disposition, feature, form,\nAccomplishments, she may be well compared.140\nYet, being such, I will return her hence\nIf that she go be best. Perish myself\u2014\nBut let the people of my charge be saved\nPrepare ye, therefore, a reward for me,\nAnd seek it instant. It were much unmeet145\nThat I alone of all the Argive host\nShould want due recompense, whose former prize\nIs elsewhere destined, as ye all perceive.\nTo whom Achilles, matchless in the race.\nAtrides, glorious above all in rank,150\nAnd as intent on gain as thou art great,\nWhence shall the Grecians give a prize to thee?\nThe general stock is poor; the spoil of towns\nWhich we have taken, hath already passed\nIn distribution, and it were unjust155\nTo gather it from all the Greeks again.\nBut send thou back this Virgin to her God,\nAnd when Jove\u2019s favor shall have given us Troy,\nA threefold, fourfold share shall then be thine.\nTo whom the Sovereign of the host replied.160\nGodlike Achilles, valiant as thou art,\nWouldst thou be subtle too? But me no fraud\nShall overreach, or art persuade, of thine.\nWouldst thou, that thou be recompensed, and I\nSit meekly down, defrauded of my due?165\nAnd didst thou bid me yield her? Let the bold\nAchaians give me competent amends,\nSuch as may please me, and it shall be well.\nElse, if they give me none, I will command\nThy prize, the prize of Ajax, or the prize170\nIt may be of Ulysses to my tent,\nAnd let the loser chafe. But this concern\nShall be adjusted at convenient time.\nCome\u2014launch we now into the sacred deep\nA bark with lusty rowers well supplied;175\nThen put on board Chrys\u00ebis, and with her\nThe sacrifice required. Go also one\nHigh in authority, some counsellor,\nIdomeneus, or Ajax, or thyself,\nThou most untractable of all mankind;180\nAnd seek by rites of sacrifice and prayer\nTo appease Apollo on our host\u2019s behalf.\nAchilles eyed him with a frown, and spake.\nAh! clothed with impudence as with a cloak,\nAnd full of subtlety, who, thinkest thou\u2014185\nWhat Grecian here will serve thee, or for thee\nWage covert war, or open? Me thou know\u2019st,\nTroy never wronged; I came not to avenge\nHarm done to me; no Trojan ever drove\nMy pastures, steeds or oxen took of mine,190\nOr plunder\u2019d of their fruits the golden fields\nOf Phthia[13] the deep-soil\u2019d. She lies remote,\nAnd obstacles are numerous interposed,\nVale-darkening mountains, and the dashing sea.\nNo, [14]Shameless Wolf! For thy good pleasure\u2019s sake195\nWe came, and, [15]Face of flint! to avenge the wrongs\nBy Menelaus and thyself sustain\u2019d,\nOn the offending Trojan\u2014service kind,\nBut lost on thee, regardless of it all.\nAnd now\u2014What now? Thy threatening is to seize200\nThyself, the just requital of my toils,\nMy prize hard-earn\u2019d, by common suffrage mine.\nI never gain, what Trojan town soe\u2019er\nWe ransack, half thy booty. The swift march\nAnd furious onset\u2014these I largely reap,205\nBut, distribution made, thy lot exceeds\nMine far; while I, with any pittance pleased,\nBear to my ships the little that I win\nAfter long battle, and account it much.\nBut I am gone, I and my sable barks210\n(My wiser course) to Phthia, and I judge,\nScorn\u2019d as I am, that thou shalt hardly glean\nWithout me, more than thou shalt soon consume.[16]\nHe ceased, and Agamemnon thus replied\nFly, and fly now; if in thy soul thou feel215\nSuch ardor of desire to go\u2014begone!\nI woo thee not to stay; stay not an hour\nOn my behalf, for I have others here\nWho will respect me more, and above all\nAll-judging Jove. There is not in the host220\nKing or commander whom I hate as thee,\nFor all thy pleasure is in strife and blood,\nAnd at all times; yet valor is no ground\nWhereon to boast, it is the gift of Heaven\nGo, get ye back to Phthia, thou and thine!225\nThere rule thy Myrmidons.[17] I need not thee,\nNor heed thy wrath a jot. But this I say,\nSure as Apollo takes my lovely prize\nChrys\u00ebis, and I shall return her home\nIn mine own bark, and with my proper crew,230\nSo sure the fair Bris\u00ebis shall be mine.\nI shall demand her even at thy tent.\nSo shalt thou well be taught, how high in power\nI soar above thy pitch, and none shall dare\nAttempt, thenceforth, comparison with me.235\nHe ended, and the big, disdainful heart\nThrobbed of Achilles; racking doubt ensued\nAnd sore perplex\u2019d him, whether forcing wide\nA passage through them, with his blade unsheathed\nTo lay Atrides breathless at his foot,240\nOr to command his stormy spirit down.\nSo doubted he, and undecided yet\nStood drawing forth his falchion huge; when lo!\nDown sent by Juno, to whom both alike\nWere dear, and who alike watched over both,245\nPallas descended. At his back she stood\nTo none apparent, save himself alone,\nAnd seized his golden locks. Startled, he turned,\nAnd instant knew Minerva. Flashed her eyes\nTerrific;[18] whom with accents on the wing250\nOf haste, incontinent he questioned thus.\nDaughter of Jove, why comest thou? that thyself\nMay\u2019st witness these affronts which I endure\nFrom Agamemnon? Surely as I speak,\nThis moment, for his arrogance, he dies.255\nTo whom the blue-eyed Deity. From heaven\nMine errand is, to sooth, if thou wilt hear,\nThine anger. Juno the white-arm\u2019d alike\nTo him and thee propitious, bade me down:\nRestrain thy wrath. Draw not thy falchion forth.260\nRetort, and sharply, and let that suffice.\nFor I foretell thee true. Thou shalt receive,\nSome future day, thrice told, thy present loss\nFor this day\u2019s wrong. Cease, therefore, and be still.\nTo whom Achilles. Goddess, although much265\nExasperate, I dare not disregard\nThy word, which to obey is always best.[19]\nWho hears the Gods, the Gods hear also him.\nHe said; and on his silver hilt the force\nOf his broad hand impressing, sent the blade270\nHome to its rest, nor would the counsel scorn\nOf Pallas. She to heaven well-pleased return\u2019d,\nAnd in the mansion of Jove \u00c6gis[20]-armed\nArriving, mingled with her kindred Gods.\nBut though from violence, yet not from words275\nAbstained Achilles, but with bitter taunt\nOpprobrious, his antagonist reproached.\nOh charged with wine, in steadfastness of face\nDog unabashed, and yet at heart a deer!\nThou never, when the troops have taken arms,280\nHast dared to take thine also; never thou\nAssociate with Achaia\u2019s Chiefs, to form\nThe secret ambush.[21] No. The sound of war\nIs as the voice of destiny to thee.\nDoubtless the course is safer far, to range285\nOur numerous host, and if a man have dared\nDispute thy will, to rob him of his prize.\nKing! over whom? Women and spiritless\u2014\nWhom therefore thou devourest; else themselves\nWould stop that mouth that it should scoff no more.290\nBut hearken. I shall swear a solemn oath.\nBy this same sceptre,[22] which shall never bud,\nNor boughs bring forth as once, which having left\nIts stock on the high mountains, at what time\nThe woodman\u2019s axe lopped off its foliage green,295\nAnd stript its bark, shall never grow again;\nWhich now the judges of Achaia bear,\nWho under Jove, stand guardians of the laws,\nBy this I swear (mark thou the sacred oath)\nTime shall be, when Achilles shall be missed;300\nWhen all shall want him, and thyself the power\nTo help the Achaians, whatsoe\u2019er thy will;\nWhen Hector at your heels shall mow you down:\nThe Hero-slaughtering Hector! Then thy soul,\nVexation-stung, shall tear thee with remorse,305\nThat thou hast scorn\u2019d, as he were nothing worth,\nA Chief, the soul and bulwark of your cause.\nSo saying, he cast his sceptre on the ground\nStudded with gold, and sat. On the other side\nThe son of Atreus all impassion\u2019d stood,310\nWhen the harmonious orator arose\nNestor, the Pylian oracle, whose lips\nDropped eloquence\u2014the honey not so sweet.\nTwo generations past of mortals born\nIn Pylus, co\u00ebtaneous with himself,315\nHe govern\u2019d now the third\u2014amid them all\nHe stood, and thus, benevolent, began.\nAh! what calamity hath fall\u2019n on Greece!\nNow Priam and his sons may well exult,\nNow all in Ilium shall have joy of heart320\nAbundant, hearing of this broil, the prime\nOf Greece between, in council and in arms.\nBut be persuaded; ye are younger both\nThan I, and I was conversant of old\nWith Princes your superiors, yet from them325\nNo disrespect at any time received.\nTheir equals saw I never; never shall;\nExadius, C\u0153neus, and the Godlike son\nOf \u00c6geus, mighty Theseus; men renown\u2019d\nFor force superior to the race of man,330\nBrave Chiefs they were, and with brave foes they fought,\nWith the rude dwellers on the mountain-heights\nThe Centaurs,[23] whom with havoc such as fame\nShall never cease to celebrate, they slew.\nWith these men I consorted erst, what time335\nFrom Pylus, though a land from theirs remote,\nThey called me forth, and such as was my strength,\nWith all that strength I served them. Who is he?\nWhat Prince or Chief of the degenerate race\nNow seen on earth who might with these compare?340\nYet even these would listen and conform\nTo my advice in consultation given,\nWhich hear ye also; for compliance proves\nOft times the safer and the manlier course.\nThou, Agamemnon! valiant as thou art,345\nSeize not the maid, his portion from the Greeks,\nBut leave her his; nor thou, Achilles, strive\nWith our imperial Chief; for never King\nHad equal honor at the hands of Jove\nWith Agamemnon, or was throned so high.350\nSay thou art stronger, and art Goddess-born,\nHow then? His territory passes thine,\nAnd he is Lord of thousands more than thou.\nCease, therefore, Agamemnon; calm thy wrath;\nAnd it shall be mine office to entreat355\nAchilles also to a calm, whose might\nThe chief munition is of all our host.\nTo whom the sovereign of the Greeks replied,\nThe son of Atreus. Thou hast spoken well,\nOld Chief, and wisely. But this wrangler here\u2014360\nNought will suffice him but the highest place:\nHe must control us all, reign over all,\nDictate to all; but he shall find at least\nOne here, disposed to question his commands.\nIf the eternal Gods have made him brave,365\nDerives he thence a privilege to rail?\nWhom thus Achilles interrupted fierce.\nCould I be found so abject as to take\nThe measure of my doings at thy lips,\nWell might they call me coward through the camp,370\nA vassal, and a fellow of no worth.\nGive law to others. Think not to control\nMe, subject to thy proud commands no more.\nHear yet again! And weigh what thou shalt hear.\nI will not strive with thee in such a cause,375\nNor yet with any man; I scorn to fight\nFor her, whom having given, ye take away.\nBut I have other precious things on board;\nOf those take none away without my leave.\nOr if it please thee, put me to the proof380\nBefore this whole assembly, and my spear\nShall stream that moment, purpled with thy blood.\nThus they long time in opposition fierce\nMaintained the war of words; and now, at length,\n(The grand consult dissolved,) Achilles walked385\n(Patroclus and the Myrmidons his steps\nAttending) to his camp and to his fleet.\nBut Agamemnon order\u2019d forth a bark,\nA swift one, manned with twice ten lusty rowers;\nHe sent on board the Hecatomb:[24] he placed390\nChrys\u00ebis with the blooming cheeks, himself,\nAnd to Ulysses gave the freight in charge.\nSo all embarked, and plow\u2019d their watery way.\nAtrides, next, bade purify the host;\nThe host was purified, as he enjoin\u2019d,395\nAnd the ablution cast into the sea.\nThen to Apollo, on the shore they slew,\nOf the untillable and barren deep,\nWhole Hecatombs of bulls and goats, whose steam\nSlowly in smoky volumes climbed the skies.400\nThus was the camp employed; nor ceased the while\nThe son of Atreus from his threats denounced\nAt first against Achilles, but command\nGave to Talthybius and Eurybates\nHis heralds, ever faithful to his will.405\nHaste\u2014Seek ye both the tent of Peleus\u2019 son\nAchilles. Thence lead hither by the hand\nBlooming Bris\u00ebis, whom if he withhold,\nNot her alone, but other spoil myself\nWill take in person\u2014He shall rue the hour.410\nWith such harsh message charged he them dismissed\nThey, sad and slow, beside the barren waste\nOf Ocean, to the galleys and the tents\nMoved of the Myrmidons. Him there they found\nBeneath the shadow of his bark reclined,415\nNor glad at their approach. Trembling they stood,\nIn presence of the royal Chief, awe-struck,\nNor questioned him or spake. He not the less\nKnew well their embassy, and thus began.\nYe heralds, messengers of Gods and men,420\nHail, and draw near! I bid you welcome both.\nI blame not you; the fault is his alone\nWho sends you to conduct the damsel hence\nBris\u00ebis. Go, Patroclus, generous friend!\nLead forth, and to their guidance give the maid.425\nBut be themselves my witnesses before\nThe blessed Gods, before mankind, before\nThe ruthless king, should want of me be felt\nTo save the host from havoc[25]\u2014Oh, his thoughts\nAre madness all; intelligence or skill,430\nForecast or retrospect, how best the camp\nMay be secured from inroad, none hath he.\nHe ended, nor Patroclus disobey\u2019d,\nBut leading beautiful Bris\u00ebis forth\nInto their guidance gave her; loth she went435\nFrom whom she loved, and looking oft behind.\nThen wept Achilles, and apart from all,\nWith eyes directed to the gloomy Deep\nAnd arms outstretch\u2019d, his mother suppliant sought.\nSince, mother, though ordain\u2019d so soon to die,440\nI am thy son, I might with cause expect\nSome honor at the Thunderer\u2019s hands, but none\nTo me he shows, whom Agamemnon, Chief\nOf the Achaians, hath himself disgraced,\nSeizing by violence my just reward.445\nSo prayed he weeping, whom his mother heard\nWithin the gulfs of Ocean where she sat\nBeside her ancient sire. From the gray flood\nAscending sudden, like a mist she came,\nSat down before him, stroked his face, and said.450\nWhy weeps my son? and what is thy distress?\nHide not a sorrow that I wish to share.\nTo whom Achilles, sighing deep, replied.\nWhy tell thee woes to thee already known?\nAt Thebes, E\u00ebtion\u2019s city we arrived,455\nSmote, sack\u2019d it, and brought all the spoil away.\nJust distribution made among the Greeks,\nThe son of Atreus for his lot received\nBlooming Chrys\u00ebis. Her, Apollo\u2019s priest\nOld Chryses followed to Achaia\u2019s camp,460\nThat he might loose his daughter. Ransom rich\nHe brought, and in his hands the hallow\u2019d wreath\nAnd golden sceptre of the Archer God\nApollo, bore; to the whole Grecian host,\nBut chiefly to the foremost in command465\nHe sued, the sons of Atreus; then, the rest\nAll recommended reverence of the Seer,\nAnd prompt acceptance of his costly gifts.\nBut Agamemnon might not so be pleased,\nWho gave him rude dismission; he in wrath470\nReturning, prayed, whose prayer Apollo heard,\nFor much he loved him. A pestiferous shaft\nHe instant shot into the Grecian host,\nAnd heap\u2019d the people died. His arrows swept\nThe whole wide camp of Greece, till at the last475\nA Seer, by Ph\u0153bus taught, explain\u2019d the cause.\nI first advised propitiation. Rage\nFired Agamemnon. Rising, he denounced\nVengeance, and hath fulfilled it. She, in truth,\nIs gone to Chrysa, and with her we send480\nPropitiation also to the King\nShaft-arm\u2019d Apollo. But my beauteous prize\nBris\u00ebis, mine by the award of all,\nHis heralds, at this moment, lead away.\nBut thou, wherein thou canst, aid thy own son!485\nHaste hence to Heaven, and if thy word or deed\nHath ever gratified the heart of Jove,\nWith earnest suit press him on my behalf.\nFor I, not seldom, in my father\u2019s hall\nHave heard thee boasting, how when once the Gods,490\nWith Juno, Neptune, Pallas at their head,\nConspired to bind the Thunderer, thou didst loose\nHis bands, O Goddess! calling to his aid\nThe Hundred-handed warrior, by the Gods\nBriareus, but by men, \u00c6geon named.[26]495\nFor he in prowess and in might surpassed\nHis father Neptune, who, enthroned sublime,\nSits second only to Saturnian Jove,\nElate with glory and joy. Him all the Gods\nFearing from that bold enterprise abstained.500\nNow, therefore, of these things reminding Jove,\nEmbrace his knees; entreat him that he give\nThe host of Troy his succor, and shut fast\nThe routed Grecians, prisoners in the fleet,\nThat all may find much solace[27] in their King,505\nAnd that the mighty sovereign o\u2019er them all,\nTheir Agamemnon, may himself be taught\nHis rashness, who hath thus dishonor\u2019d foul\nThe life itself, and bulwark of his cause.\nTo him, with streaming eyes, Thetis replied.510\nBorn as thou wast to sorrow, ah, my son!\nWhy have I rear\u2019d thee! Would that without tears,\nOr cause for tears (transient as is thy life,\nA little span) thy days might pass at Troy!\nBut short and sorrowful the fates ordain515\nThy life, peculiar trouble must be thine,\nWhom, therefore, oh that I had never borne!\nBut seeking the Olympian hill snow-crown\u2019d,\nI will myself plead for thee in the ear\nOf Jove, the Thunderer. Meantime at thy fleet520\nAbiding, let thy wrath against the Greeks\nStill burn, and altogether cease from war.\nFor to the banks of the Oceanus,[28]\nWhere \u00c6thiopia holds a feast to Jove,[29]\nHe journey\u2019d yesterday, with whom the Gods525\nWent also, and the twelfth day brings them home.\nThen will I to his brazen-floor\u2019d abode,\nThat I may clasp his knees, and much misdeem\nOf my endeavor, or my prayer shall speed.\nSo saying, she went; but him she left enraged530\nFor fair Bris\u00ebis\u2019 sake, forced from his arms\nBy stress of power. Meantime Ulysses came\nTo Chrysa with the Hecatomb in charge.\nArrived within the haven[30] deep, their sails\nFurling, they stowed them in the bark below.535\nThen by its tackle lowering swift the mast\nInto its crutch, they briskly push\u2019d to land,\nHeaved anchors out, and moor\u2019d the vessel fast.\nForth came the mariners, and trod the beach;\nForth came the victims of Apollo next,540\nAnd, last, Chrys\u00ebis. Her Ulysses led\nToward the altar, gave her to the arms\nOf her own father, and him thus address\u2019d.\nO Chryses! Agamemnon, King of men,\nHath sent thy daughter home, with whom we bring545\nA Hecatomb on all our host\u2019s behalf\nTo Ph\u0153bus, hoping to appease the God\nBy whose dread shafts the Argives now expire.\nSo saying, he gave her to him, who with joy\nReceived his daughter. Then, before the shrine550\nMagnificent in order due they ranged\nThe noble Hecatomb.[31] Each laved his hands\nAnd took the salted meal, and Chryses made\nHis fervent prayer with hands upraised on high.\nGod of the silver bow, who with thy power555\nEncirclest Chrysa, and who reign\u2019st supreme\nIn Tenedos, and Cilla the divine!\nThou prov\u2019dst propitious to my first request,\nHast honor\u2019d me, and punish\u2019d sore the Greeks;\nHear yet thy servant\u2019s prayer; take from their host560\nAt once the loathsome pestilence away!\nSo Chryses prayed, whom Ph\u0153bus heard well-pleased;\nThen prayed the Grecians also, and with meal\nSprinkling the victims, their retracted necks\nFirst pierced, then flay\u2019d them; the disjointed thighs565\nThey, next, invested with the double caul,\nWhich with crude slices thin they overspread.\nThe priest burned incense, and libation poured\nLarge on the hissing brands, while, him beside,\nBusy with spit and prong, stood many a youth570\nTrained to the task. The thighs with fire consumed,\nThey gave to each his portion of the maw,\nThen slashed the remnant, pierced it with the spits,\nAnd managing with culinary skill\nThe roast, withdrew it from the spits again.575\nTheir whole task thus accomplish\u2019d, and the board\nSet forth, they feasted, and were all sufficed.\nWhen neither hunger more nor thirst remained\nUnsatisfied, boys crown\u2019d the beakers high\nWith wine delicious, and from right to left580\nDistributing the cups, served every guest.\nThenceforth the youths of the Achaian race\nTo song propitiatory gave the day,\nP\u00e6ans[32] to Ph\u0153bus, Archer of the skies,\nChaunting melodious. Pleased, Apollo heard.585\nBut, when, the sun descending, darkness fell,\nThey on the beach beside their hawsers slept;\nAnd, when the day-spring\u2019s daughter rosy-palm\u2019d\nAurora look\u2019d abroad, then back they steer\u2019d\nTo the vast camp. Fair wind, and blowing fresh,590\nApollo sent them; quick they rear\u2019d the mast,\nThen spread the unsullied canvas to the gale,\nAnd the wind filled it. Roared the sable flood\nAround the bark, that ever as she went\nDash\u2019d wide the brine, and scudded swift away.595\nThus reaching soon the spacious camp of Greece,\nTheir galley they updrew sheer o\u2019er the sands\nFrom the rude surge remote, then propp\u2019d her sides\nWith scantlings long,[33] and sought their several tents.\nBut Peleus\u2019 noble son, the speed-renown\u2019d600\nAchilles, he, his well-built bark beside,\nConsumed his hours, nor would in council more,\nWhere wise men win distinction, or in fight\nAppear, to sorrow and heart-withering wo\nAbandon\u2019d; though for battle, ardent, still605\nHe panted, and the shout-resounding field.\nBut when the twelfth fair morrow streak\u2019d the East,\nThen all the everlasting Gods to Heaven\nResorted, with the Thunderer at their head,\nAnd Thetis, not unmindful of her son,610\nProm the salt flood emerged, seeking betimes\nOlympus and the boundless fields of heaven.\nHigh, on the topmost eminence sublime\nOf the deep-fork\u2019d Olympian she perceived\nThe Thunderer seated, from the Gods apart.615\nShe sat before him, clasp\u2019d with her left hand\nHis knees, her right beneath his chin she placed,\nAnd thus the King, Saturnian Jove, implored.\nFather of all, by all that I have done\nOr said that ever pleased thee, grant my suit.620\nExalt my son, by destiny short-lived\nBeyond the lot of others. Him with shame\nThe King of men hath overwhelm\u2019d, by force\nUsurping his just meed; thou, therefore, Jove,\nSupreme in wisdom, honor him, and give625\nSuccess to Troy, till all Achaia\u2019s sons\nShall yield him honor more than he hath lost!\nShe spake, to whom the Thunderer nought replied,\nBut silent sat long time. She, as her hand\nHad grown there, still importunate, his knees630\nClasp\u2019d as at first, and thus her suit renew\u2019d.[34]\nOr grant my prayer, and ratify the grant,\nOr send me hence (for thou hast none to fear)\nPlainly refused; that I may know and feel\nBy how much I am least of all in heaven.635\nTo whom the cloud-assembler at the last\nSpake, deep-distress\u2019d. Hard task and full of strife\nThou hast enjoined me; Juno will not spare\nFor gibe and taunt injurious, whose complaint\nSounds daily in the ears of all the Gods,640\nThat I assist the Trojans; but depart,\nLest she observe thee; my concern shall be\nHow best I may perform thy full desire.\nAnd to assure thee more, I give the sign\nIndubitable, which all fear expels645\nAt once from heavenly minds. Nought, so confirmed,\nMay, after, be reversed or render\u2019d vain.\nHe ceased, and under his dark brows the nod\nVouchsafed of confirmation. All around\nThe Sovereign\u2019s everlasting head his curls650\nAmbrosial shook,[35] and the huge mountain reeled.\nTheir conference closed, they parted. She, at once,\nFrom bright Olympus plunged into the flood\nProfound, and Jove to his own courts withdrew.\nTogether all the Gods, at his approach,655\nUprose; none sat expectant till he came,\nBut all advanced to meet the Eternal Sire.\nSo on his throne he sat. Nor Juno him\nNot understood; she, watchful, had observed,\nIn consultation close with Jove engaged660\nThetis, bright-footed daughter of the deep,\nAnd keen the son of Saturn thus reproved.\nShrewd as thou art, who now hath had thine ear?\nThy joy is ever such, from me apart\nTo plan and plot clandestine, and thy thoughts,665\nThink what thou may\u2019st, are always barred to me.\nTo whom the father, thus, of heaven and earth.\nExpect not, Juno, that thou shalt partake\nMy counsels at all times, which oft in height\nAnd depth, thy comprehension far exceed,670\nJove\u2019s consort as thou art. When aught occurs\nMeet for thine ear, to none will I impart\nOf Gods or men more free than to thyself.\nBut for my secret thoughts, which I withhold\nFrom all in heaven beside, them search not thou675\nWith irksome curiosity and vain.\n\nHim answer\u2019d then the Goddess ample-eyed.[36]\nWhat word hath passed thy lips, Saturnian Jove,\nThou most severe! I never search thy thoughts,\nNor the serenity of thy profound680\nIntentions trouble; they are safe from me:\nBut now there seems a cause. Deeply I dread\nLest Thetis, silver-footed daughter fair\nOf Ocean\u2019s hoary Sovereign, here arrived\nAt early dawn to practise on thee, Jove!685\nI noticed her a suitress at thy knees,\nAnd much misdeem or promise-bound thou stand\u2019st\nTo Thetis past recall, to exalt her son,\nAnd Greeks to slaughter thousands at the ships.\nTo whom the cloud-assembler God, incensed.690\nAh subtle! ever teeming with surmise,\nAnd fathomer of my concealed designs,\nThy toil is vain, or (which is worse for thee,)\nShall but estrange thee from mine heart the more.\nAnd be it as thou sayest,\u2014I am well pleased695\nThat so it should be. Be advised, desist,\nHold thou thy peace. Else, if my glorious hands\nOnce reach thee, the Olympian Powers combined\nTo rescue thee, shall interfere in vain.\nHe said,\u2014whom Juno, awful Goddess, heard700\nAppall\u2019d, and mute submitted to his will.\nBut through the courts of Jove the heavenly Powers\nAll felt displeasure; when to them arose\nVulcan, illustrious artist, who with speech\nConciliatory interposed to sooth705\nHis white-armed mother Juno, Goddess dread.\nHard doom is ours, and not to be endured,\nIf feast and merriment must pause in heaven\nWhile ye such clamor raise tumultuous here\nFor man\u2019s unworthy sake: yet thus we speed710\nEver, when evil overpoises good.\nBut I exhort my mother, though herself\nAlready warn\u2019d, that meekly she submit\nTo Jove our father, lest our father chide\nMore roughly, and confusion mar the feast.715\nFor the Olympian Thunderer could with ease\nUs from our thrones precipitate, so far\nHe reigns to all superior. Seek to assuage\nHis anger therefore; so shall he with smiles\nCheer thee, nor thee alone, but all in heaven.720\nSo Vulcan, and, upstarting, placed a cup\nFull-charged between his mother\u2019s hands, and said,\nMy mother, be advised, and, though aggrieved,\nYet patient; lest I see thee whom I love\nSo dear, with stripes chastised before my face,725\nWilling, but impotent to give thee aid.[37]\nWho can resist the Thunderer? Me, when once\nI flew to save thee, by the foot he seized\nAnd hurl\u2019d me through the portal of the skies.\n\u201cFrom morn to eve I fell, a summer\u2019s day,\u201d730\nAnd dropped, at last, in Lemnos. There half-dead\nThe Sintians found me, and with succor prompt\nAnd hospitable, entertained me fallen.\nSo He; then Juno smiled, Goddess white-arm\u2019d,\nAnd smiling still, from his unwonted hand[38]735\nReceived the goblet. He from right to left\nRich nectar from the beaker drawn, alert\nDistributed to all the powers divine.\nHeaven rang with laughter inextinguishable\nPeal after peal, such pleasure all conceived740\nAt sight of Vulcan in his new employ.\nSo spent they in festivity the day,\nAnd all were cheered; nor was Apollo\u2019s harp\nSilent, nor did the Muses spare to add\nResponsive melody of vocal sweets.745\nBut when the sun\u2019s bright orb had now declined,\nEach to his mansion, wheresoever built\nBy the lame matchless Architect, withdrew.[39]\nJove also, kindler of the fires of heaven,\nHis couch ascending as at other times750\nWhen gentle sleep approach\u2019d him, slept serene,\nWith golden-sceptred Juno at his side.\n\n\nThe first book contains the preliminaries to the commencement of\nserious action. First, the visit of the priest of Apollo to ransom his\ncaptive daughter, the refusal of Agamemnon to yield her up, and the\npestilence sent by the god upon the Grecian army in consequence.\nSecondly, the restoration, the propitiation of Apollo, the quarrel of\nAgamemnon and Achilles, and the withdrawing of the latter from the\nGrecian army. Thirdly, the intercession of Thetis with Jupiter; his\npromise, unwillingly given, to avenge Achilles; and the assembly of the\ngods, in which the promise is angrily alluded to by Juno, and the\ndiscussion peremptorily checked by Jupiter. The poet, throughout this\nbook, maintains a simple, unadorned style, but highly descriptive, and\nhappily adapted to the nature of the subject.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE SECOND BOOK.\n\nJupiter, in pursuance of his purpose to distress the Grecians in answer\nto the prayer of Thetis, deceives Agamemnon by a dream. He, in\nconsequence of it, calls a council, the result of which is that the\narmy shall go forth to battle. Thersites is mutinous, and is chastised\nby Ulysses. Ulysses, Nestor, and Agamemnon, harangue the people; and\npreparation is made for battle. An exact account follows of the forces\non both sides.\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\n\n[1]All night both Gods and Chiefs equestrian slept,\nBut not the Sire of all. He, waking soon,\nMused how to exalt Achilles, and destroy\nNo few in battle at the Grecian fleet.\nThis counsel, at the last, as best he chose5\nAnd likeliest; to dispatch an evil Dream\nTo Agamemnon\u2019s tent, and to his side\nThe phantom summoning, him thus addressed.\nHaste, evil Dream! Fly to the Grecian fleet,\nAnd, entering royal Agamemnon\u2019s tent,10\nHis ear possess thou thus, omitting nought\nOf all that I enjoin thee. Bid him arm\nHis universal host, for that the time\nWhen the Achaians shall at length possess\nWide Ilium, hath arrived. The Gods above15\nNo longer dwell at variance. The request\nOf Juno hath prevail\u2019d; now, wo to Troy!\nSo charged, the Dream departed. At the ships\nWell-built arriving of Achaia\u2019s host,\nHe Agamemnon, son of Atreus, sought.20\nHim sleeping in his tent he found, immersed\nIn soft repose ambrosial. At his head\nThe shadow stood, similitude exact\nOf Nestor, son of Neleus; sage, with whom\nIn Agamemnon\u2019s thought might none compare.25\nHis form assumed, the sacred Dream began.\nOh son of Atreus the renown\u2019d in arms\nAnd in the race! Sleep\u2019st thou? It ill behoves\nTo sleep all night the man of high employ,\nAnd charged, as thou art, with a people\u2019s care.30\nNow, therefore, mark me well, who, sent from Jove,\nInform thee, that although so far remote,\nHe yet compassionates and thinks on thee\nWith kind solicitude. He bids thee arm\nThy universal host, for that the time35\nWhen the Achaians shall at length possess\nWide Ilium, hath arrived. The Gods above\nNo longer dwell at variance. The requests\nOf Juno have prevail\u2019d. Now, wo to Troy\nFrom Jove himself! Her fate is on the wing.40\nAwaking from thy dewy slumbers, hold\nIn firm remembrance all that thou hast heard.\nSo spake the Dream, and vanishing, him left\nIn false hopes occupied and musings vain.\nFull sure he thought, ignorant of the plan45\nBy Jove design\u2019d, that day the last of Troy.\nFond thought! For toils and agonies to Greeks\nAnd Trojans both, in many a bloody field\nTo be endured, the Thunderer yet ordain\u2019d.\nStarting he woke, and seeming still to hear50\nThe warning voice divine, with hasty leap\nSprang from his bed, and sat.[2] His fleecy vest\nNew-woven he put on, and mantle wide;\nHis sandals fair to his unsullied feet\nHe braced, and slung his argent-studded sword.55\nThen, incorruptible for evermore\nThe sceptre of his sires he took, with which\nHe issued forth into the camp of Greece.\nAurora now on the Olympian heights\nProclaiming stood new day to all in heaven,60\nWhen he his clear-voiced heralds bade convene\nThe Greeks in council. Went the summons forth\nInto all quarters, and the throng began.\nFirst, at the ship of Nestor, Pylian King,[3]\nThe senior Chiefs for high exploits renown\u2019d65\nHe gather\u2019d, whom he prudent thus address\u2019d.\nMy fellow warriors, hear! A dream from heaven,\nAmid the stillness of the vacant night\nApproach\u2019d me, semblance close in stature, bulk,\nAnd air, of noble Nestor. At mine head70\nThe shadow took his stand, and thus he spake.\nOh son of Atreus the renown\u2019d in arms\nAnd in the race, sleep\u2019st thou? It ill behoves\nTo sleep all night the man of high employ,\nAnd charged as thou art with a people\u2019s care.75\nNow, therefore, mark me well, who, sent from Jove,\nInform thee, that although so far remote,\nHe yet compassionates and thinks on thee\nWith kind solicitude. He bids thee arm\nThy universal host; for that the time80\nWhen the Achaians shall at length possess\nWide Ilium, hath arrived. The Gods above\nNo longer dwell at variance. The requests\nOf Juno have prevail\u2019d. Now, wo to Troy\nFrom Jove himself! Her fate is on the wing.85\nCharge this on thy remembrance. Thus he spake,\nThen vanished suddenly, and I awoke.\nHaste therefore, let us arm, if arm we may,[4]\nThe warlike sons of Greece; but first, myself\nWill prove them, recommending instant flight90\nWith all our ships, and ye throughout the host\nDispersed, shall, next, encourage all to stay.\nHe ceased, and sat; when in the midst arose\nOf highest fame for wisdom, Nestor, King\nOf sandy Pylus, who them thus bespake.95\nFriends, Counsellors, and Leaders of the Greeks!\nHad any meaner Argive told his dream,\nWe had pronounced it false, and should the more\nHave shrunk from battle; but the dream is his\nWho boasts himself our highest in command.100\nHaste, arm we, if we may, the sons of Greece.\nSo saying, he left the council; him, at once\nThe sceptred Chiefs, obedient to his voice,\nArising, follow\u2019d; and the throng began.\nAs from the hollow rock bees stream abroad,105\nAnd in succession endless seek the fields,\nNow clustering, and now scattered far and near,\nIn spring-time, among all the new-blown flowers,\nSo they to council swarm\u2019d, troop after troop,\nGrecians of every tribe, from camp and fleet110\nAssembling orderly o\u2019er all the plain\nBeside the shore of Ocean. In the midst\nA kindling rumor, messenger of Jove,\nImpell\u2019d them, and they went. Loud was the din\nOf the assembling thousands; groan\u2019d the earth115\nWhen down they sat, and murmurs ran around.\nNine heralds cried aloud\u2014Will ye restrain\nYour clamors, that your heaven-taught Kings may speak?\nScarce were they settled, and the clang had ceased,\nWhen Agamemnon, sovereign o\u2019er them all,120\nSceptre in hand, arose. (That sceptre erst\nVulcan with labor forged, and to the hand\nConsign\u2019d it of the King, Saturnian Jove;\nJove to the vanquisher[5] of Ino\u2019s[6] guard,\nAnd he to Pelops; Pelops in his turn,125\nTo royal Atreus; Atreus at his death\nBequeath\u2019d it to Thyestes rich in flocks,\nAnd rich Thyestes left it to be borne\nBy Agamemnon, symbol of his right\nTo empire over Argos and her isles)130\nOn that he lean\u2019d, and rapid, thus began.[7]\nFriends, Grecian Heroes, ministers of Mars!\nYe see me here entangled in the snares\nOf unpropitious Jove. He promised once,\nAnd with a nod confirm\u2019d it, that with spoils135\nOf Ilium laden, we should hence return;\nBut now, devising ill, he sends me shamed,\nAnd with diminished numbers, home to Greece.\nSo stands his sovereign pleasure, who hath laid\nThe bulwarks of full many a city low,140\nAnd more shall level, matchless in his might.\nThat such a numerous host of Greeks as we,\nWarring with fewer than ourselves, should find\nNo fruit of all our toil, (and none appears)\nWill make us vile with ages yet to come.145\nFor should we now strike truce, till Greece and Troy\nMight number each her own, and were the Greeks\nDistributed in bands, ten Greeks in each,\nOur banded decads should exceed so far\nTheir units, that all Troy could not supply150\nFor every ten, a man, to fill us wine;\nSo far the Achaians, in my thought, surpass\nThe native Trojans. But in Troy are those\nWho baffle much my purpose; aids derived\nFrom other states, spear-arm\u2019d auxiliars, firm155\nIn the defence of Ilium\u2019s lofty towers.\nNine years have passed us over, nine long years;\nOur ships are rotted, and our tackle marr\u2019d,\nAnd all our wives and little-ones at home\nSit watching our return, while this attempt160\nHangs still in doubt, for which that home we left.\nAccept ye then my counsel. Fly we swift\nWith all our fleet back to our native land,\nHopeless of Troy, not yet to be subdued.\nSo spake the King, whom all the concourse heard165\nWith minds in tumult toss\u2019d; all, save the few,\nPartners of his intent. Commotion shook\nThe whole assembly, such as heaves the flood\nOf the Icarian Deep, when South and East\nBurst forth together from the clouds of Jove.170\nAnd as when vehement the West-wind falls\nOn standing corn mature, the loaded ears\nInnumerable bow before the gale,\nSo was the council shaken. With a shout\nAll flew toward the ships; uprais\u2019d, the dust175\nStood o\u2019er them; universal was the cry,\n\u201cNow clear the passages, strike down the props,\nSet every vessel free, launch, and away!\u201d\nHeaven rang with exclamation of the host\nAll homeward bent, and launching glad the fleet.180\nThen baffled Fate had the Achaians seen\nReturning premature, but Juno thus,\nWith admonition quick to Pallas spake.\nUnconquer\u2019d daughter of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d!\nAh foul dishonor! Is it thus at last185\nThat the Achaians on the billows borne,\nShall seek again their country, leaving here,\nTo be the vaunt of Ilium and her King,\nHelen of Argos, in whose cause the Greeks\nHave numerous perish\u2019d from their home remote?190\nHaste! Seek the mail-arm\u2019d multitude, by force\nDetain them of thy soothing speech, ere yet\nAll launch their oary barks into the flood.\nShe spake, nor did Minerva not comply,\nBut darting swift from the Olympian heights,195\nReach\u2019d soon Achaia\u2019s fleet. There, she perceived\nPrudent as Jove himself, Ulysses; firm\nHe stood; he touch\u2019d not even with his hand\nHis sable bark, for sorrow whelm\u2019d his soul.\nThe Athen\u00e6an Goddess azure-eyed200\nBeside him stood, and thus the Chief bespake.\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\nWhy seek ye, thus precipitate, your ships?\nIntend ye flight? And is it thus at last,\nThat the Achaians on the billows borne,205\nShall seek again their country, leaving here,\nTo be the vaunt of Ilium and her King,\nHelen of Argos, in whose cause the Greeks\nHave numerous perish\u2019d from their home remote?\nDelay not. Rush into the throng; by force210\nDetain them of thy soothing speech, ere yet\nAll launch their oary barks into the flood.\nShe ceased, whom by her voice Ulysses knew,\nCasting his mantle from him, which his friend\nEurybates the Ithacensian caught,215\nHe ran; and in his course meeting the son\nOf Atreus, Agamemnon, from his hand\nThe everlasting sceptre quick received,\nWhich bearing, through Achaia\u2019s fleet he pass\u2019d.\nWhat King soever, or distinguish\u2019d Greek220\nHe found, approaching to his side, in terms\nOf gentle sort he stay\u2019d him. Sir, he cried,\nIt is unseemly that a man renown\u2019d\nAs thou, should tremble. Go\u2014Resume the seat\nWhich thou hast left, and bid the people sit.225\nThou know\u2019st not clearly yet the monarch\u2019s mind.\nHe proves us now, but soon he will chastize.\nAll were not present; few of us have heard\nHis speech this day in council. Oh, beware,\nLest in resentment of this hasty course230\nIrregular, he let his anger loose.\nDread is the anger of a King; he reigns\nBy Jove\u2019s own ordinance, and is dear to Jove,\nBut what plebeian base soe\u2019er he heard\nStretching his throat to swell the general cry,235\nHe laid the sceptre smartly on his back,\nWith reprimand severe. Fellow, he said,\nSit still; hear others; thy superiors hear.\nFor who art thou? A dastard and a drone,\nOf none account in council, or in arms.240\nBy no means may we all alike bear sway\nAt Ilium; such plurality of Kings\nWere evil. One suffices. One, to whom\nThe son of politic Saturn hath assign\u2019d\nThe sceptre, and inforcement of the laws,245\nThat he may rule us as a monarch ought.[8]\nWith such authority the troubled host\nHe sway\u2019d; they, quitting camp and fleet again\nRush\u2019d back to council; deafening was the sound\nAs when a billow of the boisterous deep250\nSome broad beach dashes, and the Ocean roars.\nThe host all seated, and the benches fill\u2019d,\nThersites only of loquacious tongue\nUngovern\u2019d, clamor\u2019d mutinous; a wretch\nOf utterance prompt, but in coarse phrase obscene255\nDeep learn\u2019d alone, with which to slander Kings.\nMight he but set the rabble in a roar,\nHe cared not with what jest; of all from Greece\nTo Ilium sent, his country\u2019s chief reproach.\nCross-eyed he was, and halting moved on legs260\nIll-pair\u2019d; his gibbous shoulders o\u2019er his breast\nContracted, pinch\u2019d it; to a peak his head\nWas moulded sharp, and sprinkled thin with hair\nOf starveling length, flimsy and soft as down.\nAchilles and Ulysses had incurr\u2019d265\nMost his aversion; them he never spared;\nBut now, imperial Agamemnon self\nIn piercing accents stridulous he charged\nWith foul reproach. The Grecians with contempt\nListen\u2019d, and indignation, while with voice270\nAt highest pitch, he thus the monarch mock\u2019d.\nWhat wouldst thou now? Whereof is thy complaint\nNow, Agamemnon? Thou hast fill\u2019d thy tents\nWith treasure, and the Grecians, when they take\nA city, choose the loveliest girls for thee.275\nIs gold thy wish? More gold? A ransom brought\nBy some chief Trojan for his son\u2019s release\nWhom I, or other valiant Greek may bind?\nOr wouldst thou yet a virgin, one, by right\nAnother\u2019s claim, but made by force thine own?280\nIt was not well, great Sir, that thou shouldst bring\nA plague on the Achaians, as of late.\nBut come, my Grecian sisters, soldiers named\nUnfitly, of a sex too soft for war,\nCome, let us homeward: let him here digest285\nWhat he shall gorge, alone; that he may learn\nIf our assistance profit him or not.\nFor when he shamed Achilles, he disgraced\nA Chief far worthier than himself, whose prize\nHe now withholds. But tush,\u2014Achilles lacks290\nHimself the spirit of a man; no gall\nHath he within him, or his hand long since\nHad stopp\u2019d that mouth,[9] that it should scoff no more.\nThus, mocking royal Agamemnon, spake\nThersites. Instant starting to his side, 295\nNoble Ulysses with indignant brows\nSurvey\u2019d him, and him thus reproved severe.\n\nThersites! Railer!\u2014peace. Think not thyself,\nAlthough thus eloquent, alone exempt\nFrom obligation not to slander Kings.300\nI deem thee most contemptible, the worst\nOf Agamemnon\u2019s followers to the war;\nPresume not then to take the names revered\nOf Sovereigns on thy sordid lips, to asperse\nTheir sacred character, and to appoint305\nThe Greeks a time when they shall voyage home.\nHow soon, how late, with what success at last\nWe shall return, we know not: but because\nAchaia\u2019s heroes numerous spoils allot\nTo Agamemnon, Leader of the host,310\nThou therefore from thy seat revilest the King.\nBut mark me. If I find thee, as even now,\nRaving and foaming at the lips again,\nMay never man behold Ulysses\u2019 head\nOn these my shoulders more, and may my son315\nProve the begotten of another Sire,\nIf I not strip thee to that hide of thine\nAs bare as thou wast born, and whip thee hence\nHome to thy galley, sniveling like a boy.\nHe ceased, and with his sceptre on the back320\nAnd shoulders smote him. Writhing to and fro,\nHe wept profuse, while many a bloody whelk\nProtuberant beneath the sceptre sprang.\nAwe-quell\u2019d he sat, and from his visage mean,\nDeep-sighing, wiped the rheums. It was no time325\nFor mirth, yet mirth illumined every face,\nAnd laughing, thus they spake. A thousand acts\nIllustrious, both by well-concerted plans\nAnd prudent disposition of the host\nUlysses hath achieved, but this by far330\nTranscends his former praise, that he hath quell\u2019d\nSuch contumelious rhetoric profuse.\nThe valiant talker shall not soon, we judge,\nTake liberties with royal names again.[10]\nSo spake the multitude. Then, stretching forth335\nThe sceptre, city-spoiler Chief, arose\nUlysses. Him beside, herald in form,\nAppeared Minerva. Silence she enjoined\nTo all, that all Achaia\u2019s sons might hear,\nForemost and rearmost, and might weigh his words.340\nHe then his counsel, prudent, thus proposed.\nAtrides! Monarch! The Achaians seek\nTo make thee ignominious above all\nIn sight of all mankind. None recollects\nHis promise more in steed-famed Argos pledged,345\nHere to abide till Ilium wall\u2019d to heaven\nShould vanquish\u2019d sink, and all her wealth be ours.\nNo\u2014now, like widow\u2019d women, or weak boys,\nThey whimper to each other, wishing home.\nAnd home, I grant, to the afflicted soul350\nSeems pleasant.[11] The poor seaman from his wife\nOne month detain\u2019d, cheerless his ship and sad\nPossesses, by the force of wintry blasts,\nAnd by the billows of the troubled deep\nFast lock\u2019d in port. But us the ninth long year355\nRevolving, finds camp\u2019d under Ilium still.\nI therefore blame not, if they mourn beside\nTheir sable barks, the Grecians. Yet the shame\nThat must attend us after absence long\nReturning unsuccessful, who can bear?360\nBe patient, friends! wait only till we learn\nIf Calchas truly prophesied, or not;\nFor well we know, and I to all appeal,\nWhom Fate hath not already snatch\u2019d away,\n(It seems but yesterday, or at the most365\nA day or two before) that when the ships\nWo-fraught for Priam, and the race of Troy,\nAt Aulis met, and we beside the fount\nWith perfect hecatombs the Gods adored\nBeneath the plane-tree, from whose root a stream370\nRan crystal-clear, there we beheld a sign\nWonderful in all eyes. A serpent huge,\nTremendous spectacle! with crimson spots\nHis back all dappled, by Olympian Jove\nHimself protruded, from the altar\u2019s foot375\nSlipp\u2019d into light, and glided to the tree.\nThere on the topmost bough, close-cover\u2019d sat\nWith foliage broad, eight sparrows, younglings all,\nThen newly feather\u2019d, with their dam, the ninth.\nThe little ones lamenting shrill he gorged,380\nWhile, wheeling o\u2019er his head, with screams the dam\nBewail\u2019d her darling brood. Her also next,\nHovering and clamoring, he by the wing\nWithin his spiry folds drew, and devoured.\nAll eaten thus, the nestlings and the dam,385\nThe God who sent him, signalized him too,\nFor him Saturnian Jove transform\u2019d to stone.\nWe wondering stood, to see that strange portent\nIntrude itself into our holy rites,\nWhen Calchas, instant, thus the sign explain\u2019d.390\nWhy stand ye, Greeks, astonish\u2019d? Ye behold\nA prodigy by Jove himself produced,\nAn omen, whose accomplishment indeed\nIs distant, but whose fame shall never die.[12]\nE\u2019en as this serpent in your sight devour\u2019d395\nEight youngling sparrows, with their dam, the ninth,\nSo we nine years must war on yonder plain,\nAnd in the tenth, wide-bulwark\u2019d Troy is ours.\nSo spake the seer, and as he spake, is done.\nWait, therefore, brave Achaians! go not hence400\nTill Priam\u2019s spacious city be your prize.\nHe ceased, and such a shout ensued, that all\nThe hollow ships the deafening roar return\u2019d\nOf acclamation, every voice the speech\nExtolling of Ulysses, glorious Chief.405\nThen Nestor the Gerenian,[13] warrior old,\nArising, spake; and, by the Gods, he said,\nYe more resemble children inexpert\nIn war, than disciplined and prudent men.\nWhere now are all your promises and vows,410\nCouncils, libations, right-hand covenants?[14]\nBurn them, since all our occupation here\nIs to debate and wrangle, whereof end\nOr fruit though long we wait, shall none be found.\nBut, Sovereign, be not thou appall\u2019d. Be firm.415\nRelax not aught of thine accustomed sway,\nBut set the battle forth as thou art wont.\nAnd if there be a Grecian, here and there,\nOne,[15] adverse to the general voice, let such\nWither alone. He shall not see his wish420\nGratified, neither will we hence return\nTo Argos, ere events shall yet have proved\nJove\u2019s promise false or true. For when we climb\u2019d\nOur gallant barks full-charged with Ilium\u2019s fate,\nSaturnian Jove omnipotent, that day,425\n(Omen propitious!) thunder\u2019d on the right.\nLet no man therefore pant for home, till each\nPossess a Trojan spouse, and from her lips\nTake sweet revenge for Helen\u2019s pangs of heart.\nWho then? What soldier languishes and sighs430\nTo leave us? Let him dare to lay his hand\nOn his own vessel, and he dies the first.\nBut hear, O King! I shall suggest a course\nNot trivial. Agamemnon! sort the Greeks\nBy districts and by tribes, that tribe may tribe435\nSupport, and each his fellow. This performed,\nAnd with consent of all, thou shalt discern\nWith ease what Chief, what private man deserts,\nAnd who performs his part. The base, the brave,\nSuch disposition made, shall both appear;440\nAnd thou shalt also know, if heaven or we,\nThe Gods, or our supineness, succor Troy.\nTo whom Atrides, King of men, replied.\nOld Chief! Thou passest all Achaia\u2019s sons\nIn consultation; would to Jove our Sire,445\nTo Athen\u00e6an Pallas, and Apollo!\nThat I had ten such coadjutors, wise\nAs thou art, and the royal city soon\nOf Priam, with her wealth, should all be ours.[16]\nBut me the son of Saturn, Jove supreme450\nHimself afflicts, who in contentious broils\nInvolves me, and in altercation vain.\nThence all that wordy tempest for a girl\nAchilles and myself between, and I\nThe fierce aggressor. Be that breach but heal\u2019d!455\nAnd Troy\u2019s reprieve thenceforth is at an end.\nGo\u2014take refreshment now that we may march\nForth to our enemies. Let each whet well\nHis spear, brace well his shield, well feed his brisk\nHigh-mettled horses, well survey and search460\nHis chariot on all sides, that no defect\nDisgrace his bright habiliments of war.\nSo will we give the day from morn to eve\nTo dreadful battle. Pause there shall be none\nTill night divide us. Every buckler\u2019s thong465\nShall sweat on the toil\u2019d bosom, every hand\nThat shakes the spear shall ache, and every steed\nShall smoke that whirls the chariot o\u2019er the plain.\nWo then to whom I shall discover here\nLoitering among the tents; let him escape470\nMy vengeance if he can. The vulture\u2019s maw\nShall have his carcase, and the dogs his bones.\nHe spake; whom all applauded with a shout\nLoud as against some headland cliff the waves\nRoll\u2019d by the stormy South o\u2019er rocks that shoot475\nAfar into the deep, which in all winds\nThe flood still overspreads, blow whence they may.\nArising, forth they rush\u2019d, among the ships\nAll scatter\u2019d; smoke from every tent arose,\nThe host their food preparing; next, his God480\nEach man invoked (of the Immortals him\nWhom he preferr\u2019d) with sacrifice and prayer\nFor safe escape from danger and from death.\nBut Agamemnon to Saturnian Jove\nOmnipotent, an ox of the fifth year485\nFull-flesh\u2019d devoted, and the Princes call\u2019d\nNoblest of all the Grecians to his feast.\nFirst, Nestor with Idomeneus the King,\nThen either Ajax, and the son he call\u2019d\nOf Tydeus, with Ulysses sixth and last,490\nJove\u2019s peer in wisdom. Menelaus went,\nHeroic Chief! unbidden, for he knew\nHis brother\u2019s mind with weight of care oppress\u2019d.\nThe ox encircling, and their hands with meal\nOf consecration fill\u2019d, the assembly stood,495\nWhen Agamemnon thus his prayer preferred.\nAlmighty Father! Glorious above all!\nCloud-girt, who dwell\u2019st in heaven thy throne sublime,\nLet not the sun go down, till Priam\u2019s roof\nFall flat into the flames; till I shall burn500\nHis gates with fire; till I shall hew away\nHis hack\u2019d and riven corslet from the breast\nOf Hector, and till numerous Chiefs, his friends,\nAround him, prone in dust, shall bite the ground.\nSo prayed he, but with none effect, The God505\nReceived his offering, but to double toil\nDoom\u2019d them, and sorrow more than all the past.\nThey then, the triturated barley grain\nFirst duly sprinkling, the sharp steel infix\u2019d\nDeep in the victim\u2019s neck reversed, then stripp\u2019d510\nThe carcase, and divided at their joint\nThe thighs, which in the double caul involved\nThey spread with slices crude, and burn\u2019d with fire\nAscending fierce from billets sere and dry.\nThe spitted entrails next they o\u2019er the coals515\nSuspended held. The thighs with fire consumed,\nThey gave to each his portion of the maw,\nThen slash\u2019d the remnant, pierced it with the spits,\nAnd managing with culinary skill\nThe roast, withdrew it from the spits again.520\nThus, all their task accomplished, and the board\nSet forth, they feasted, and were all sufficed.\nWhen neither hunger more nor thirst remain\u2019d\nUnsatisfied, Gerenian Nestor spake.\nAtrides! Agamemnon! King of men!525\nNo longer waste we time in useless words,\nNor to a distant hour postpone the work\nTo which heaven calls thee. Send thine heralds forth.\nWho shall convene the Achaians at the fleet,\nThat we, the Chiefs assembled here, may range,530\nTogether, the imbattled multitude,\nAnd edge their spirits for immediate fight.\nHe spake, nor Agamemnon not complied.\nAt once he bade his clear-voiced heralds call\nThe Greeks to battle. They the summons loud535\nGave forth, and at the sound the people throng\u2019d.\nThen Agamemnon and the Kings of Greece\nDispatchful drew them into order just,\nWith whom Minerva azure-eyed advanced,\nThe inestimable \u00c6gis on her arm,540\nImmortal, unobnoxious to decay\nA hundred braids, close twisted, all of gold,\nEach valued at a hundred beeves,[17] around\nDependent fringed it. She from side to side\nHer eyes cerulean rolled, infusing thirst545\nOf battle endless into every breast.\nWar won them now, war sweeter now to each\nThan gales to waft them over ocean home.[18]\nAs when devouring flames some forest seize\nOn the high mountains, splendid from afar550\nThe blaze appears, so, moving on the plain,\nThe steel-clad host innumerous flash\u2019d to heaven.\nAnd as a multitude of fowls in flocks\nAssembled various, geese, or cranes, or swans\nLithe-neck\u2019d, long hovering o\u2019er Ca\u00ffster\u2019s banks555\nOn wanton plumes, successive on the mead\nAlight at last, and with a clang so loud\nThat all the hollow vale of Asius rings;\nIn number such from ships and tents effused,\nThey cover\u2019d the Scamandrian plain; the earth560\nRebellow\u2019d to the feet of steeds and men.\nThey overspread Scamander\u2019s grassy vale,\nMyriads, as leaves, or as the flowers of spring.\nAs in the hovel where the peasant milks\nHis kine in spring-time, when his pails are fill\u2019d,565\nThick clouds of humming insects on the wing\nSwarm all around him, so the Grecians swarm\u2019d\nAn unsumm\u2019d multitude o\u2019er all the plain,\nBright arm\u2019d, high crested, and athirst for war.\nAs goat-herds separate their numerous flocks570\nWith ease, though fed promiscuous, with like ease\nTheir leaders them on every side reduced\nTo martial order glorious;[19] among whom\nStood Agamemnon \u201cwith an eye like Jove\u2019s,\nTo threaten or command,\u201d like Mars in girth,575\nAnd with the port of Neptune. As the bull\nConspicuous among all the herd appears,\nFor he surpasses all, such Jove ordain\u2019d\nThat day the son of Atreus, in the midst\nOf Heroes, eminent above them all.580\nTell me, (for ye are are heavenly, and beheld[20]\nA scene, whereof the faint report alone\nHath reached our ears, remote and ill-informed,)\nTell me, ye Muses, under whom, beneath\nWhat Chiefs of royal or of humbler note585\nStood forth the embattled Greeks? The host at large;\n_They_ were a multitude in number more\nThan with ten tongues, and with ten mouths, each mouth\nMade vocal with a trumpet\u2019s throat of brass\nI might declare, unless the Olympian nine,590\nJove\u2019s daughters, would the chronicle themselves\nIndite, of all assembled, under Troy.\nI will rehearse the Captains and their fleets.\n[21]B\u0153otia\u2019s sturdy sons Peneleus led,\nAnd Le\u00eftus, whose partners in command595\nArcesilaus and Prothoenor came,\nAnd Clonius. Them the dwellers on the rocks\nOf Aulis followed, with the hardy clans\nOf Hyrie, Schoenos, Scholos, and the hills\nOf Eteon; Thespia, Gr\u00e6a, and the plains600\nOf Mycalessus them, and Harma served,\nEleon, Erythr\u00e6, Peteon; Hyle them,\nHesius and Ocalea, and the strength\nOf Medeon; Cop\u00e6 also in their train\nMarched, with Eutresis and the mighty men605\nOf Thisbe famed for doves; nor pass unnamed\nWhom Coron\u00e6a, and the grassy land\nOf Haliartus added to the war,\nNor whom Plat\u00e6a, nor whom Glissa bred,\nAnd Hypotheb\u00e6,[22] and thy sacred groves610\nTo Neptune, dark Onchestus. Arne claims\nA record next for her illustrious sons,\nVine-bearing Arne. Thou wast also there\nMideia, and thou Nissa; nor be thine\nThough last, Anthedon, a forgotten name.615\nThese in B\u0153otia\u2019s fair and gallant fleet\nOf fifty ships, each bearing o\u2019er the waves\nThrice forty warriors, had arrived at Troy.\nIn thirty ships deep-laden with the brave,\nAspledon and Orchomenos had sent620\nTheir chosen youth; them ruled a noble pair,\nSons of Astyoche; she, lovely nymph,\nReceived by stealth, on Actor\u2019s stately roof,\nThe embraces of a God, and bore to Mars\nTwins like himself, Ascalaphus the bold,625\nAnd bold I\u00e4lmenus, expert in arms.\nBeneath Epistrophus and Schedius, took\nTheir destined station on B\u0153otia\u2019s left,\nThe brave Phocensians; they in forty ships\nFrom Cyparissus came, and from the rocks630\nOf Python, and from Crissa the divine;\nFrom Anemoria, Daulis, Panopeus,\nAnd from Hyampolis, and from the banks\nOf the Cephissus, sacred stream, and from\nLil\u00e6a, seated at its fountain-head.635\nNext from beyond Eub\u0153a\u2019s happy isle\nIn forty ships conveyed, stood forth well armed\nThe Locrians; dwellers in Augeia some\nThe pleasant, some of Opo\u00ebis possessed,\nSome of Calliarus; these Scarpha sent,640\nAnd Cynus those; from Bessa came the rest,\nFrom Tarpha, Thronius, and from the brink\nOf loud Boagrius; Ajax them, the swift,\nSon of O\u00efleus led, not such as he\nFrom Telamon, big-boned and lofty built,645\nBut small of limb, and of an humbler crest;\nYet he, competitor had none throughout\nThe Grecians of what land soe\u2019er, for skill\nIn ushering to its mark the rapid lance.\nElphenor brought (Calchodon\u2019s mighty son)650\nThe Eub\u0153ans to the field. In forty ships\nFrom Histr\u00ef\u00e6a for her vintage famed,\nFrom Chalcis, from Iretria, from the gates\nOf maritime Cerinthus, from the heights\nOf Dios rock-built citadel sublime,655\nAnd from Caristus and from Styra came\nHis warlike multitudes, all named alike\nAbantes, on whose shoulders fell behind\nTheir locks profuse,[23] and they were eager all\nTo split the hauberk with the pointed spear.660\nNor Athens had withheld her generous sons,\nThe people of Erectheus. Him of old\nThe teeming glebe produced, a wondrous birth!\nAnd Pallas rear\u2019d him: her own unctuous fane\nShe made his habitation, where with bulls665\nThe youth of Athens, and with slaughter\u2019d lambs\nHer annual worship celebrate. Then led\nMenestheus, whom, (sage Nestor\u2019s self except,\nThrice school\u2019d in all events of human life,)\nNone rivall\u2019d ever in the just array670\nOf horse and man to battle. Fifty ships\nBlack-prowed, had borne them to the distant war.\nAjax from Salamis twelve vessels brought,\nAnd where the Athenian band in phalanx stood\nMarshall\u2019d compact, there station\u2019d he his powers.675\nThe men of Argos and Tyrintha next,\nAnd of Hermione, that stands retired\nWith Asine, within her spacious bay;\nOf Epidaurus, crown\u2019d with purple vines,\nAnd of Tr\u0153zena, with the Achaian youth680\nOf sea-begirt \u00c6gina, and with thine,\nMaseta, and the dwellers on thy coast,\nWave-worn E\u00efon\u00e6; these all obeyed\nThe dauntless Hero Diomede, whom served\nSthenelus, son of Capaneus, a Chief685\nOf deathless fame, his second in command,\nAnd godlike man, Euryalus, the son\nOf King Mecisteus, Tala\u00fcs\u2019 son, his third.\nBut Diomede controll\u2019d them all, and him\nTwice forty sable ships their leader own\u2019d.690\nCame Agamemnon with a hundred ships,\nExulting in his powers; more numerous they,\nAnd more illustrious far than other Chief\nCould boast, whoever. Clad in burnish\u2019d brass,\nAnd conscious of pre-eminence, he stood.695\nHe drew his host from cities far renown\u2019d,\nMycen\u00e6, and Corinthus, seat of wealth,\nOrneia, and Cleon\u00e6 bulwark\u2019d strong,\nAnd lovely Ar\u00e6thyria; Sicyon, where\nHis seat of royal power held at the first700\nAdrastus: Hyperesia, and the heights\nOf Gono\u00ebssa; \u00c6gium, with the towns\nThat sprinkle all that far-extended coast,\nPellene also and wide Helice\nWith all their shores, were number\u2019d in his train.705\nFrom hollow Laced\u00e6mon\u2019s glen profound,\nFrom Phare, Sparta, and from Messa, still\nResounding with the ring-dove\u2019s amorous moan,\nFrom Brysia, from Augeia, from the rocks\nOf Laas, from Amycla, Otilus,710\nAnd from the towers of Helos, at whose foot\nThe surf of Ocean falls, came sixty barks\nWith Menelaus. From the monarch\u2019s host\nThe royal brother ranged his own apart,\nand panted for revenge of Helen\u2019s wrongs,715\nAnd of her sighs and tears.[24] From rank to rank,\nConscious of dauntless might he pass\u2019d, and sent\nInto all hearts the fervor of his own.\nGerenian Nestor in thrice thirty ships\nHad brought his warriors; they from Pylus came,720\nFrom blithe Arene, and from Thryos, built\nFast by the fords of Alpheus, and from steep\nAnd stately \u00c6py. Their confederate powers\nSent Amphigenia, Cyparissa veiled\nWith broad redundance of funereal shades,725\nPteleos and Helos, and of deathless fame\nDorion. In Dorion erst the Muses met\nThre\u00efcian Thamyris, on his return\nFrom Eurytus, Oechalian Chief, and hush\u2019d\nHis song for ever; for he dared to vaunt730\nThat he would pass in song even themselves\nThe Muses, daughters of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d.\nThey therefore, by his boast incensed, the bard\nStruck blind, and from his memory dash\u2019d severe\nAll traces of his once celestial strains.735\nArcadia\u2019s sons, the dwellers at the foot\nOf mount Cyllene, where \u00c6pytus sleeps\nIntomb\u2019d; a generation bold in fight,\nAnd warriors hand to hand; the valiant men\nOf Pheneus, of Orchomenos by flocks740\nGrazed numberless, of Ripe, Stratia, bleak\nEnispe; Mantinea city fair,\nStymphelus and Parrhasia, and the youth\nOf Tegea; royal Agapenor these,\nAnc\u00e6us\u2019 offspring, had in sixty ships745\nTo Troy conducted; numerous was the crew,\nAnd skilled in arms, which every vessel brought,\nAnd Agamemnon had with barks himself\nSupplied them, for, of inland realms possessed,\nThey little heeded maritime employs.[25]750\nThe dwellers in Buprasium, on the shores\nOf pleasant Elis, and in all the land\nMyrsinus and the Hyrminian plain between,\nThe rock Olenian, and the Alysian fount;\nThese all obey\u2019d four Chiefs, and galleys ten755\nEach Chief commanded, with Epeans filled.\nAmphimachus and Thalpius govern\u2019d these,\nThis, son of Cteatus, the other, sprung\nFrom Eurytus, and both of Actor\u2019s house.\nDiores, son of Amarynceus, those760\nLed on, and, for his godlike form renown\u2019d,\nPolyxenus was Chieftain o\u2019er the rest,\nSon of Agasthenes, Augeias\u2019 son.\nDulichium, and her sister sacred isles\nThe Echinades, whose opposite aspect765\nLooks toward Elis o\u2019er the curling waves,\nSent forth their powers with Meges at their head,\nBrave son of Phyleus, warrior dear to Jove.\nPhyleus in wrath, his father\u2019s house renounced,\nAnd to Dulichium wandering, there abode.770\nTwice twenty ships had follow\u2019d Meges forth.\nUlysses led the Cephallenians bold.\nFrom Ithaca, and from the lofty woods\nOf Neritus they came, and from the rocks\nOf rude \u00c6gilipa. Crocylia these,775\nAnd these Zacynthus own\u2019d; nor yet a few\nFrom Samos, from Epirus join\u2019d their aid,\nAnd from the opposite Ionian shore.\nThem, wise as Jove himself, Ulysses led\nIn twelve fair ships, with crimson prows adorn\u2019d.780\nFrom forty ships, Thoas, Andr\u00e6mon\u2019s son,\nHad landed his \u00c6tolians; for extinct\nWas Meleager, and extinct the house\nOf Oeneus all, nor Oeneus self survived;\nTo Thoas therefore had \u00c6tolia fallen;785\nHim Olenos, Pylene, Chalcis served,\nWith Pleuro, and the rock-bound Calydon.\nIdomeneus, spear-practised warrior, led\nThe numerous Cretans. In twice forty ships\nHe brought his powers to Troy. The warlike bands790\nOf Cnossus, of Gortyna wall\u2019d around,\nOf Lyctus, of Lycastus chalky-white,\nOf Ph\u00e6stus, of Miletus, with the youth\nOf Rhytius him obey\u2019d; nor these were all,\nBut others from her hundred cities Crete795\nSent forth, all whom Idomeneus the brave\nCommanded, with Meriones in arms\nDread as the God of battles blood-imbrued.\nNine ships Tlepolemus, Herculean-born,\nFor courage famed and for superior size,800\nFill\u2019d with his haughty Rhodians. They, in tribes\nDivided, dwelt distinct. Jelyssus these,\nThose Lindus, and the rest the shining soil\nOf white Camirus occupied. Him bore\nTo Hercules, (what time he led the nymph805\nFrom Ephyre, and from Sellea\u2019s banks,\nAfter full many a city laid in dust.)\nAstyocheia. In his father\u2019s house\nMagnificent, Tlepolemus spear-famed\nHad scarce up-grown to manhood\u2019s lusty prime810\nWhen he his father\u2019s hoary uncle slew\nLycimnius, branch of Mars. Then built he ships,\nAnd, pushing forth to sea, fled from the threats\nOf the whole house of Hercules. Huge toil\nAnd many woes he suffer\u2019d, till at length815\nAt Rhodes arriving, in three separate bands\nHe spread himself abroad, Much was he loved\nOf all-commanding Jove, who bless\u2019d him there,\nAnd shower\u2019d abundant riches on them all.\nNireus of Syma, with three vessels came;820\nNireus, Agl\u00e6a\u2019s offspring, whom she bore\nTo Charopus the King; Nireus in form,\n(The faultless son of Peleus sole except,)\nLoveliest of all the Grecians call\u2019d to Troy.\nBut he was heartless and his men were few.[26]825\nNisyrus, Casus, Crapathus, and Cos\nWhere reign\u2019d Eurypylus, with all the isles\nCalydn\u00e6 named, under two valiant Chiefs\nTheir troops disposed; Phidippus one, and one,\nHis brother Antiphus, begotten both830\nBy Thessalus, whom Hercules begat.\nIn thirty ships they sought the shores of Troy.\nThe warriors of Pelasgian Argos next,\nOf Alus, and Alope, and who held\nTrechina, Phthia, and for women fair835\nDistinguish\u2019d, Hellas; known by various names\nHellenes, Myrmidons, Ach\u00e6ans, them\nIn fifty ships embark\u2019d, Achilles ruled.\nBut these were deaf to the hoarse-throated war,\nFor there was none to draw their battle forth,840\nAnd give them just array. Close in his ships\nAchilles, after loss of the bright-hair\u2019d\nBris\u00ebis, lay, resentful; her obtained\nNot without labor hard, and after sack\nOf Thebes and of Lyrnessus, where he slew845\nTwo mighty Chiefs, sons of Evenus both,\nEpistrophus and Mynes, her he mourn\u2019d,\nAnd for her sake self-prison\u2019d in his fleet\nAnd idle lay, though soon to rise again.\nFrom Phylace, and from the flowery fields850\nOf Pyrrhasus, a land to Ceres given\nBy consecration, and from Iton green,\nMother of flocks; from Antron by the sea,\nAnd from the grassy meads of Pteleus, came\nA people, whom while yet he lived, the brave855\nProtesila\u00fcs led; but him the earth\nNow cover\u2019d dark and drear. A wife he left,\nTo rend in Phylace her bleeding cheeks,\nAnd an unfinish\u2019d mansion. First he died\nOf all the Greeks; for as he leap\u2019d to land860\nForemost by far, a Dardan struck him dead.\nNor had his troops, though filled with deep regret,\nNo leader; them Podarces led, a Chief\nLike Mars in battle, brother of the slain,\nBut younger born, and from Iphiclus sprung865\nWho sprang from Phylacus the rich in flocks.\nBut him Protesila\u00fcs, as in years,\nSo also in desert of arms excell\u2019d\nHeroic, whom his host, although they saw\nPodarces at their head, still justly mourn\u2019d;870\nFor he was fierce in battle, and at Troy\nWith forty sable-sided ships arrived.\nEleven galleys, Pher\u00e6 on the lake,\nAnd Boebe, and I\u00f6lchus, and the vale\nOf Glaphyr\u00e6 supplied with crews robust875\nUnder Eumelus; him Alcestis, praised\nFor beauty above all her sisters fair,\nIn Thessaly to King Admetus bore.\nMethone, and Olizon\u2019s craggy coast,\nWith Melib\u0153a and Thaumasia sent880\nSeven ships; their rowers were good archers all,\nAnd every vessel dipped into the wave\nHer fifty oars. Them Philoctetes, skill\u2019d\nTo draw with sinewy arm the stubborn bow,\nCommanded; but he suffering anguish keen885\nInflicted by a serpent\u2019s venom\u2019d tooth,\nLay sick in Lemnos; him the Grecians there\nHad left sore-wounded, but were destined soon\nTo call to dear remembrance whom they left.\nMeantime, though sorrowing for his sake, his troops890\nYet wanted not a chief; them Medon ruled,\nWhom Rhena to the far-famed conqueror bore\nO\u00efleus, fruit of their unsanction\u2019d loves.\nFrom Tricca, from Ithome rough and rude\nWith rocks and glens, and from Oechalia, town895\nOf Eurytus Oechalian-born, came forth\nTheir warlike youth by Podalirius led\nAnd by Machaon, healers both expert\nOf all disease, and thirty ships were theirs.\nThe men of Ormenus, and from beside900\nThe fountain Hypereia, from the tops\nOf chalky Titan, and Asteria\u2019s band;\nThem ruled Eurypylus, Ev\u00e6mon\u2019s son\nIllustrious, whom twice twenty ships obeyed.\nOrthe, Gyrtone, Olo\u00f6sson white,905\nArgissa and Helone; they their youth\nGave to control of Polyp\u0153tes, son\nUndaunted of Piritho\u00fcs, son of Jove.\nHim, to Piritho\u00fcs, (on the self-same day\nWhen he the Centaurs punish\u2019d and pursued910\nSheer to \u00c6thic\u00e6 driven from Pelion\u2019s heights\nThe shaggy race) Hippodamia bore.\nNor he alone them led. With him was join\u2019d\nLeonteus dauntless warrior, from the bold\nCoronus sprung, who C\u00e6neus call\u2019d his sire.915\nTwice twenty ships awaited their command.\nGuneus from Cyphus twenty and two ships\nLed forth; the Enienes him obey\u2019d,\nAnd the robust Per\u0153bi, warriors bold,\nAnd dwellers on Dodona\u2019s wintry brow.920\nTo these were join\u2019d who till the pleasant fields\nWhere Titaresius winds; the gentle flood\nPours into Peneus all his limpid stores,\nBut with the silver-eddied Peneus flows\nUnmixt as oil;[27] for Stygian is his stream,925\nAnd Styx is the inviolable oath.\nLast with his forty ships, Tenthredon\u2019s son,\nThe active Protho\u00fcs came. From the green banks\nOf Peneus his Magnesians far and near\nHe gather\u2019d, and from Pelion forest-crown\u2019d.930\nThese were the princes and the Chiefs of Greece.\nSay, Muse, who most in personal desert\nExcell\u2019d, and whose were the most warlike steeds\nAnd of the noblest strain. Their hue, their age,\nTheir height the same, swift as the winds of heaven935\nAnd passing far all others, were the mares\nWhich drew Eumelus; on Pierian hills\nThe heavenly Archer of the silver bow,\nApollo, bred them. But of men, the chief\nWas Telamonian Ajax, while wrath-bound940\nAchilles lay; for he was worthier far,\nAnd more illustrious were the steeds which bore\nThe noble son of Peleus; but revenge\nOn Agamemnon leader of the host\nWas all his thought, while in his gallant ships945\nSharp-keel\u2019d to cut the foaming flood, he lay.\nMeantime, along the margin of the deep\nHis soldiers hurled the disk, or bent the bow.\nOr to its mark dispatch\u2019d the quivering lance.\nBeside the chariots stood the unharness\u2019d steeds950\nCropping the lotus, or at leisure browsed\nOn celery wild, from watery freshes gleaned.\nBeneath the shadow of the sheltering tent\nThe chariot stood, while they, the charioteers\nRoam\u2019d here and there the camp, their warlike lord955\nRegretting sad, and idle for his sake.\nAs if a fire had burnt along the ground,\nSuch seem\u2019d their march; earth groan\u2019d their steps beneath;\nAs when in Arimi, where fame reports\nTypho\u00ebus stretch\u2019d, the fires of angry Jove960\nDown darted, lash the ground, so groan\u2019d the earth\nBeneath them, for they traversed swift the plain.\nAnd now from Jove, with heavy tidings charged,\nWind-footed Iris to the Trojans came.\nIt was the time of council, when the throng965\nAt Priam\u2019s gate assembled, young and old:\nThem, standing nigh, the messenger of heaven\nAccosted with the voice of Priam\u2019s son,\nPolites. He, confiding in his speed\nFor sure deliverance, posted was abroad970\nOn \u00c6syeta\u2019s tomb,[28] intent to watch\nWhen the Achaian host should leave the fleet.\nThe Goddess in his form thus them address\u2019d.\nOh, ancient Monarch! Ever, evermore\nSpeaking, debating, as if all were peace;975\nI have seen many a bright-embattled field,\nBut never one so throng\u2019d as this to-day.\nFor like the leaves, or like the sands they come\nSwept by the winds, to gird the city round.\nBut Hector! chiefly thee I shall exhort.980\nIn Priam\u2019s spacious city are allies\nCollected numerous, and of nations wide\nDisseminated various are the tongues.\nLet every Chief his proper troop command,\nAnd marshal his own citizens to war.985\nShe ceased; her Hector heard intelligent,\nAnd quick dissolved the council. All took arms.\nWide flew the gates; forth rush\u2019d the multitude,\nHorsemen and foot, and boisterous stir arose.\nIn front of Ilium, distant on the plain,990\nClear all around from all obstruction, stands\nAn eminence high-raised, by mortal men\nCall\u2019d Bateia, but the Gods the tomb\nHave named it of Myrinna swift in fight.\nTroy and her aids there set the battle forth.995\nHuge Priameian Hector, fierce in arms,\nLed on the Trojans; with whom march\u2019d the most\nAnd the most valiant, dexterous at the spear.\n\u00c6neas, (on the hills of Ida him\nThe lovely Venus to Anchises bore,1000\nA Goddess by a mortal man embraced)\nLed the Dardanians; but not he alone;\nArchilochus with him and Acamas\nStood forth, the offspring of Antenor, each,\nAnd well instructed in all forms of war.1005\nFast by the foot of Ida, where they drank\nThe limpid waters of \u00c6sepus, dwelt\nThe Trojans of Zeleia. Rich were they\nAnd led by Pandarus, Lycaon\u2019s son,\nWhom Ph\u0153bus self graced with the bow he bore.1010\nAp\u00e6sus, Adrastea, Terie steep,\nAnd Pitueia\u2014them, Amphius clad\nIn mail thick-woven, and Adrastus, ruled.\nThey were the sons of the Percosian seer\nMerops, expert in the soothsayers\u2019 art1015\nAbove all other; he his sons forbad\nThe bloody fight, but disobedient they\nStill sought it, for their destiny prevailed.\nThe warriors of Percote, and who dwelt\nIn Practius, in Arisba, city fair,1020\nIn Sestus, in Abydus, march\u2019d behind\nPrincely Hyrtacides; his tawny steeds,\nStrong-built and tall, from Sellcentes\u2019 bank\nAnd from Arisba, had him borne to Troy.\nHippothous and Pilmus, branch of Mars,1025\nBoth sons of Lethus the Pelasgian, they,\nForth from Larissa for her fertile soil\nFar-famed, the spear-expert Pelasgians brought.\nThe Thracians (all whom Hellespont includes\nWithin the banks of his swift-racing tide)1030\nHeroic Acamas and Pirous led.\nEuphemus, offspring of Tr\u0153zenus, son\nOf Jove-protected Ceas, was the Chief\nWhom the spear-arm\u2019d Ciconian band obey\u2019d.\nP\u00e6onia\u2019s archers follow\u2019d to the field1035\nPyr\u00e6chmes; they from Amydon remote\nWere drawn, where Axius winds; broad Axius, stream\nDiffused delightful over all the vale.\nPyl\u00e6menes, a Chief of giant might\nFrom the Eneti for forest-mules renowned1040\nMarch\u2019d with his Paphlagonians; dwellers they\nIn Sesamus and in Cytorus were,\nAnd by the stream Parthenius; Cromna these\nSent forth, and those \u00c6gialus on the lip\nAnd margin of the land, and some, the heights1045\nOf Erythini, rugged and abrupt.\nEpistrophus and Odius from the land\nOf Alybe, a region far remote,\nWhere veins of silver wind, led to the field\nThe Halizonians. With the Mysians came1050\nChromis their Chief, and Ennomus; him skill\u2019d\nIn augury, but skill\u2019d in vain, his art\nSaved not, but by \u00c6acides[29] the swift,\nWith others in the Xanthus[30] slain, he died.\nAscanius, lovely youth, and Phorcis, led1055\nThe Phrygians from Ascania far remote,\nArdent for battle. The M\u0153onian race,\n(All those who at the foot of Tmolus dwelt,)\nMesthles and Antiphus, fraternal pair,\nSons of Pyl\u00e6menes commanded, both1060\nOf the Gyg\u00e6an lake in Lydia born.\nAmphimachus and Nastes led to fight\nThe Carians, people of a barbarous speech,[31]\nWith the Milesians, and the mountain-race\nOf wood-crown\u2019d Phthira, and who dwelt beside1065\nM\u00e6ander, or on Mycale sublime.\nThem led Amphimachus and Nastes, sons\nRenown\u2019d of Nomion. Like a simple girl\nCame forth Amphimachus with gold bedight,\nBut him his trappings from a woful death1070\nSaved not, when whirled beneath the bloody tide\nTo Peleus\u2019 stormy son his spoils he left.\nSarpedon with the noble Glaucus led\nTheir warriors forth from farthest Lycia, where\nXanthus deep-dimpled rolls his oozy tide.1075\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE THIRD BOOK.\n\nThe armies meet. Paris throws out a challenge to the Grecian Princes.\nMenelaus accepts it. The terms of the combat are adjusted solemnly by\nAgamemnon on the part of Greece, and by Priam on the part of Troy. The\ncombat ensues, in which Paris is vanquished, whom yet Venus rescues.\nAgamemnon demands from the Trojans a performance of the covenant.\n\n\nBOOK III.\n\n\n[1]Now marshall\u2019d all beneath their several chiefs,\nWith deafening shouts, and with the clang of arms,\nThe host of Troy advanced. Such clang is heard\nAlong the skies, when from incessant showers\nEscaping, and from winter\u2019s cold, the cranes5\nTake wing, and over Ocean speed away;[2]\nWo to the land of dwarfs! prepared they fly\nFor slaughter of the small Pygm\u00e6an race.\nNot so the Greeks; they breathing valor came,\nBut silent all, and all with faithful hearts10\nOn succor mutual to the last, resolved.\nAs when the south wind wraps the mountain top\nIn mist the shepherd\u2019s dread, but to the thief\nThan night itself more welcome, and the eye\nIs bounded in its ken to a stone\u2019s cast,15\nSuch from beneath their footsteps dun and dense\nUprose the dust, for swift they cross the plain.\n\nWhen, host to host opposed, full nigh they stood,\nThen Alexander[3] in the Trojan van\nAdvanced was seen, all beauteous as a God;20\nHis leopard\u2019s skin, his falchion and his bow\nHung from his shoulder; bright with heads of brass\nHe shook two spears, and challenged to the fight\nThe bravest Argives there, defying all.\nHim, striding haughtily his host before25\nWhen Menelaus saw, such joy he felt\nAs hunger-pinch\u2019d the lion feels, by chance\nConducted to some carcase huge, wild goat,\nOr antler\u2019d stag; huntsmen and baying hounds\nDisturb not _him_, he gorges in their sight.30\nSo Menelaus at the view rejoiced\nOf lovely Alexander, for he hoped\nHis punishment at hand. At once, all armed,\nDown from his chariot to the ground he leap\u2019d\nWhen godlike Paris him in front beheld35\nConspicuous, his heart smote him, and his fate\nAvoiding, far within the lines he shrank.[4]\nAs one, who in some woodland height descrying\nA serpent huge, with sudden start recoils,\nHis limbs shake under him; with cautious step40\nHe slow retires; fear blanches cold his cheeks;\nSo beauteous Alexander at the sight\nOf Atreus\u2019 son dishearten\u2019d sore, the ranks\nOf haughty Trojans enter\u2019d deep again:\nHim Hector eyed, and thus rebuked severe.45\nCurst Paris! Fair deceiver! Woman-mad!\nI would to all in heaven that thou hadst died\nUnborn, at least unmated! happier far\nThan here to have incurr\u2019d this public shame!\nWell may the Grecians taunt, and laughing loud,50\nApplaud the champion, slow indeed to fight\nAnd pusillanimous, but wondrous fair.\nWast thou as timid, tell me, when with those\nThy loved companions in that famed exploit,\nThou didst consort with strangers, and convey55\nFrom distant lands a warrior\u2019s beauteous bride\nTo be thy father\u2019s and his people\u2019s curse,\nJoy to our foes, but to thyself reproach?\nBehold her husband! Darest thou not to face\nThe warlike prince? Now learn how brave a Chief60\nThou hast defrauded of his blooming spouse.\nThy lyre, thy locks, thy person, specious gifts\nOf partial Venus, will avail thee nought,\nOnce mixt by Menelaus with the dust.\nBut we are base ourselves, or long ago,65\nFor all thy numerous mischiefs, thou hadst slept\nSecure beneath a coverlet[5] of stone.[6]\nThen godlike Alexander thus replied.\nOh Hector, true in temper as the axe\nWhich in the shipwright\u2019s hand the naval plank70\nDivides resistless, doubling all his force,\nSuch is thy dauntless spirit whose reproach\nPerforce I own, nor causeless nor unjust.\nYet let the gracious gifts uncensured pass\nOf golden Venus; man may not reject75\nThe glorious bounty by the Gods bestow\u2019d,\nNor follows their beneficence our choice.\nBut if thy pleasure be that I engage\nWith Menelaus in decision fierce\nOf desperate combat bid the host of Troy80\nAnd bid the Grecians sit; then face to face\nCommit us, in the vacant field between,\nTo fight for Helen and for all her wealth.\nWho strongest proves, and conquers, he, of her\nAnd hers possess\u2019d shall bear them safe away;85\nWhile ye (peace sworn and firm accord) shall dwell\nAt Troy, and these to Argos shall return\nAnd to Achaia praised for women fair.\nHe ceased, whom Hector heard with joy; he moved\nInto the middle space, and with his spear90\nAdvanced athwart push\u2019d back the Trojan van,\nAnd all stood fast. Meantime at him the Greeks\nDischarged full volley, showering thick around\nFrom bow and sling;[7] when with a mighty voice\nThus Agamemnon, leader of the host.95\nArgives! Be still\u2014shoot not, ye sons of Greece!\nHector bespeaks attention. Hear the Chief!\nHe said, at once the Grecians ceased to shoot,\nAnd all sat silent. Hector then began.\nHear me, ye Trojans, and ye Greeks mail-arm\u2019d,100\nWhile I shall publish in your ears the words\nOf Alexander, author of our strife.\nTrojans, he bids, and Grecians on the field\nTheir arms dispose; while he, the hosts between,\nWith warlike Menelaus shall in fight105\nContend for Helen, and for all her wealth.\nWho strongest proves, and conquers, he, of her\nAnd hers possess\u2019d, shall bear them safe away,\nAnd oaths of amity shall bind the rest.\nHe ceased, and all deep silence held, amazed;110\nWhen valiant Menelaus thus began.\nHear now me also, on whose aching heart\nThese woes have heaviest fallen. At last I hope\nDecision near, Trojans and Greeks between,\nFor ye have suffer\u2019d in my quarrel much,115\nAnd much by Paris, author of the war.\nDie he who must, and peace be to the rest.\nBut ye shall hither bring two lambs, one white,\nThe other black;[8] this to the Earth devote,\nThat to the Sun. We shall ourselves supply120\nA third for Jove. Then bring ye Priam forth,\nHimself to swear the covenant, (for his sons\nAre faithless) lest the oath of Jove be scorn\u2019d.\nYoung men are ever of unstable mind;\nBut when an elder interferes, he views125\nFuture and past together, and insures\nThe compact, to both parties, uninfringed.\nSo Menelaus spake; and in all hearts\nAwaken\u2019d joyful hope that there should end\nWar\u2019s long calamities. Alighted each,130\nAnd drew his steeds into the lines. The field\nGlitter\u2019d with arms put off, and side by side,\nRanged orderly, while the interrupted war\nStood front to front, small interval between.\nThen Hector to the city sent in haste135\nTwo heralds for the lambs, and to invite\nPriam; while Agamemnon, royal Chief,\nTalthybius to the Grecian fleet dismiss\u2019d\nFor a third lamb to Jove; nor he the voice\nOf noble Agamemnon disobey\u2019d.140\nIris, ambassadress of heaven, the while,\nTo Helen came. La\u00f6dice she seem\u2019d,\nLoveliest of all the daughters of the house\nOf Priam, wedded to Antenor\u2019s son,\nKing Helic\u00e4on. Her she found within,145\nAn ample web magnificent she wove,[9]\nInwrought with numerous conflicts for her sake\nBeneath the hands of Mars endured by Greeks\nMail-arm\u2019d, and Trojans of equestrian fame.\nSwift Iris, at her side, her thus address\u2019d.150\nHaste, dearest nymph! a wondrous sight behold!\nGreeks brazen-mail\u2019d, and Trojans steed-renown\u2019d.\nSo lately on the cruel work of Mars\nIntent and hot for mutual havoc, sit\nSilent; the war hath paused, and on his shield155\nEach leans, his long spear planted at his side.\nParis and Menelaus, warrior bold,\nWith quivering lances shall contend for thee,\nAnd thou art his who conquers; his for ever.\nSo saying, the Goddess into Helen\u2019s soul160\nSweetest desire infused to see again\nHer former Lord, her parents, and her home.\nAt once o\u2019ermantled with her snowy veil\nShe started forth, and as she went let fall\nA tender tear; not unaccompanied165\nShe went, but by two maidens of her train\nAttended, \u00c6thra, Pittheus\u2019 daughter fair,\nAnd soft-eyed Clymene. Their hasty steps\nConvey\u2019d them quickly to the Sc\u00e6an gate.\nThere Priam, Panthous, Clytius, Lampus sat,170\nThymoetes, Hicetaon, branch of Mars,\nAntenor and Ucalegon the wise,\nAll, elders of the people; warriors erst,\nBut idle now through age, yet of a voice\nStill indefatigable as the fly\u2019s[10]175\nWhich perch\u2019d among the boughs sends forth at noon\nThrough all the grove his slender ditty sweet.\nSuch sat those Trojan leaders on the tower,\nWho, soon as Helen on the steps they saw,\nIn accents quick, but whisper\u2019d, thus remark\u2019d.180\nTrojans and Grecians wage, with fair excuse,\nLong war for so much beauty.[11] Oh, how like\nIn feature to the Goddesses above!\nPernicious loveliness! Ah, hence away,\nResistless as thou art and all divine,185\nNor leave a curse to us, and to our sons.\nSo they among themselves; but Priam call\u2019d\nFair Helen to his side.[12] My daughter dear!\nCome, sit beside me. Thou shalt hence discern\nThy former Lord, thy kindred and thy friends.190\nI charge no blame on thee. The Gods have caused,\nNot thou, this lamentable war to Troy.[13]\nName to me yon Achaian Chief for bulk\nConspicuous, and for port. Taller indeed\nI may perceive than he; but with these eyes195\nSaw never yet such dignity, and grace.\nDeclare his name. Some royal Chief he seems.\nTo whom thus Helen, loveliest of her sex,\nMy other Sire! by me for ever held\nIn reverence, and with filial fear beloved!200\nOh that some cruel death had been my choice,\nRather than to abandon, as I did,\nAll joys domestic, matrimonial bliss,\nBrethren, dear daughter, and companions dear,\nA wanderer with thy son. Yet I alas!205\nDied not, and therefore now, live but to weep.\nBut I resolve thee. Thou behold\u2019st the son\nOf Atreus, Agamemnon, mighty king,\nIn arms heroic, gracious in the throne,\nAnd, (though it shame me now to call him such,)210\nBy nuptial ties a brother once to me.\nThen him the ancient King-admiring, said.\nOh blest Atrides, happy was thy birth,\nAnd thy lot glorious, whom this gallant host\nSo numerous, of the sons of Greece obey!215\nTo vine-famed Phrygia, in my days of youth,\nI journey\u2019d; many Phrygians there I saw,\nBrave horsemen, and expert; they were the powers\nOf Otreus and of Mygdon, godlike Chief,\nAnd on the banks of Sangar\u2019s stream encamp\u2019d.220\nI march\u2019d among them, chosen in that war\nAlly of Phrygia, and it was her day\nOf conflict with the man-defying race,\nThe Amazons; yet multitudes like these\nThy bright-eyed Greeks, I saw not even there.225\nThe venerable King observing next\nUlysses, thus inquired. My child, declare\nHim also. Shorter by the head he seems\nThan Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 mighty son,\nBut shoulder\u2019d broader, and of ampler chest;230\nHe hath disposed his armor on the plain,\nBut like a ram, himself the warrior ranks\nRanges majestic; like a ram full-fleeced\nBy numerous sheep encompass\u2019d snowy-white.\nTo whom Jove\u2019s daughter Helen thus replied.235\nIn him the son of old La\u00ebrtes know,\nUlysses; born in Ithaca the rude,\nBut of a piercing wit, and deeply wise.\nThen answer thus, Antenor sage return\u2019d.\nPrincess thou hast described him: hither once240\nThe noble Ithacan, on thy behalf\nAmbassador with Menelaus, came:\nBeneath my roof, with hospitable fare\nFriendly I entertained them. Seeing then\nOccasion opportune, I closely mark\u2019d245\nThe genius and the talents of the Chiefs,\nAnd this I noted well; that when they stood\nAmid the assembled counsellors of Troy,\nThen Menelaus his advantage show\u2019d,\nWho by the shoulders overtopp\u2019d his friend.250\nBut when both sat, Ulysses in his air\nHad more of state and dignity than he.\nIn the delivery of a speech address\u2019d\nTo the full senate, Menelaus used\nFew words, but to the matter, fitly ranged,255\nAnd with much sweetness utter\u2019d; for in loose\nAnd idle play of ostentatious terms\nHe dealt not, thhugh he were the younger man.\nBut when the wise Ulysses from his seat\nHad once arisen, he would his downcast eyes260\nSo rivet on the earth, and with a hand\nThat seem\u2019d untutor\u2019d in its use, so hold\nHis sceptre, swaying it to neither side,\nThat hadst thou seen him, thou hadst thought him, sure,\nSome chafed and angry idiot, passion-fixt.265\nYet, when at length, the clear and mellow base\nOf his deep voice brake forth, and he let fall\nHis chosen words like flakes of feather\u2019d snow,\nNone then might match Ulysses; leisure, then,\nFound none to wonder at his noble form.270\nThe third of whom the venerable king\nInquired, was Ajax.\u2014Yon Achaian tall,\nWhose head and shoulders tower above the rest,\nAnd of such bulk prodigious\u2014who is he?\nHim answer\u2019d Helen, loveliest of her sex.275\nA bulwark of the Greeks. In him thou seest\nGigantic Ajax. Opposite appear\nThe Cretans, and among the Chiefs of Crete\nstands, like a God, Idomeneus. Him oft\nFrom Crete arrived, was Menela\u00fcs wont280\nTo entertain; and others now I see,\nAchaians, whom I could recall to mind,\nAnd give to each his name; but two brave youths\nI yet discern not; for equestrian skill\nOne famed, and one a boxer never foiled;285\nMy brothers; born of Leda; sons of Jove;\nCastor and Pollux. Either they abide\nIn lovely Sparta still, or if they came,\nDecline the fight, by my disgrace abash\u2019d\nAnd the reproaches which have fallen on me.[14]290\nShe said; but they already slept inhumed\nIn Lacedemon, in their native soil.\nAnd now the heralds, through the streets of Troy\nCharged with the lambs, and with a goat-skin filled\nWith heart-exhilarating wine prepared295\nFor that divine solemnity, return\u2019d.\nId\u00e6us in his hand a beaker bore\nResplendent, with its fellow cups of gold,\nAnd thus he summon\u2019d ancient Priam forth.\nSon of La\u00f6medon, arise. The Chiefs300\nCall thee, the Chiefs of Ilium and of Greece.\nDescend into the plain. We strike a truce,\nAnd need thine oath to bind it. Paris fights\nWith warlike Menela\u00fcs for his spouse;\nTheir spears decide the strife. The conqueror wins305\nHelen and all her treasures. We, thenceforth,\n(Peace sworn and amity) shall dwell secure\nIn Troy, while they to Argos shall return\nAnd to Achaia praised for women fair.\nHe spake, and Priam, shuddering, bade his train310\nPrepare his steeds; they sedulous obey\u2019d.\nFirst, Priam mounting, backward stretch\u2019d the reins;\nAntenor, next, beside him sat, and through\nThe Sc\u00e6an gate they drove into the plain.\nArriving at the hosts of Greece and Troy315\nThey left the chariot, and proceeded both\nInto the interval between the hosts.\nThen uprose Agamemnon, and uprose\nAll-wise Ulysses. Next, the heralds came\nConspicuous forward, expediting each320\nThe ceremonial; they the beaker fill\u2019d\nWith wine, and to the hands of all the kings\nMinister\u2019d water. Agamemnon then\nDrawing his dagger which he ever bore\nAppendant to his heavy falchion\u2019s sheath,325\nCut off the forelocks of the lambs,[15] of which\nThe heralds gave to every Grecian Chief\nA portion, and to all the Chiefs of Troy.\nThen Agamemnon raised his hands, and pray\u2019d.\nJove, Father, who from Ida stretchest forth330\nThine arm omnipotent, o\u2019erruling all,\nAnd thou, all-seeing and all-hearing Sun,\nYe Rivers, and thou conscious Earth, and ye\nWho under earth on human kind avenge\nSevere, the guilt of violated oaths,335\nHear ye, and ratify what now we swear!\nShould Paris slay the hero amber-hair\u2019d,\nMy brother Menela\u00fcs, Helen\u2019s wealth\nAnd Helen\u2019s self are his, and all our host\nShall home return to Greece; but should it chance340\nThat Paris fall by Menela\u00fcs\u2019 hand,\nThen Troy shall render back what she detains,\nWith such amercement as is meet, a sum\nTo be remember\u2019d in all future times.\nWhich penalty should Priam and his sons345\nNot pay, though Paris fall, then here in arms\nI will contend for payment of the mulct\nMy due, till, satisfied, I close the war.\nHe said, and with his ruthless steel the lambs\nStretch\u2019d panting all, but soon they ceased to pant,350\nFor mortal was the stroke.[16] Then drawing forth\nWine from the beaker, they with brimming cups\nHail\u2019d the immortal Gods, and pray\u2019d again,\nAnd many a Grecian thus and Trojan spake.\nAll-glorious Jove, and ye the powers of heaven,355\nWhoso shall violate this contract first,\nSo be the brains of them and of their sons\nPour\u2019d out, as we this wine pour on the earth,\nAnd may their wives bring forth to other men!\nSo they: but them Jove heard not. Then arose360\nPriam, the son of Dardanus, and said,\nHear me, ye Trojans and ye Greeks well-arm\u2019d.\nHence back to wind-swept Ilium I return,\nUnable to sustain the sight, my son\nWith warlike Menela\u00fcs match\u2019d in arms.365\nJove knows, and the immortal Gods, to whom\nOf both, this day is preordain\u2019d the last.\nSo spake the godlike monarch, and disposed\nWithin the royal chariot all the lambs;\nThen, mounting, check\u2019d the reins; Antenor next370\nAscended, and to Ilium both return\u2019d.\nFirst, Hector and Ulysses, noble Chief,\nMeasured the ground; then taking lots for proof\nWho of the combatants should foremost hurl\nHis spear, they shook them in a brazen casque;375\nMeantime the people raised their hands on high,\nAnd many a Grecian thus and Trojan prayed.\nJove, Father, who on Ida seated, seest\nAnd rulest all below, glorious in power!\nOf these two champions, to the drear abodes380\nOf Ades him appoint who furnish\u2019d first\nThe cause of strife between them, and let peace\nOath-bound, and amity unite the rest!\nSo spake the hosts; then Hector shook the lots,\nMajestic Chief, turning his face aside.385\nForth sprang the lot of Paris. They in ranks\nSat all, where stood the fiery steeds of each,\nAnd where his radiant arms lay on the field.\nIllustrious Alexander his bright arms\nPut on, fair Helen\u2019s paramour. [17]He clasp\u2019d390\nHis polish\u2019d greaves with silver studs secured;\nHis brother\u2019s corselet to his breast he bound,\nLycaon\u2019s, apt to his own shape and size,\nAnd slung athwart his shoulders, bright emboss\u2019d,\nHis brazen sword; his massy buckler broad395\nHe took, and to his graceful head his casque\nAdjusted elegant, which, as he moved,\nIts bushy crest waved dreadful; last he seized,\nWell fitted to his gripe, his ponderous spear.\nMeantime the hero Menela\u00fcs made400\nLike preparation, and his arms put on.\nWhen thus, from all the multitude apart,\nBoth combatants had arm\u2019d, with eyes that flash\u2019d\nDefiance, to the middle space they strode,\nTrojans and Greeks between. Astonishment405\nSeized all beholders. On the measured ground\nFull near they stood, each brandishing on high\nHis massy spear, and each was fiery wroth.\nFirst, Alexander his long-shadow\u2019d spear\nSent forth, and on his smooth shield\u2019s surface struck410\nThe son of Atreus, but the brazen guard\nPierced not, for at the disk, with blunted point\nReflex, his ineffectual weapon stay\u2019d.\nThen Menela\u00fcs to the fight advanced\nImpetuous, after prayer offer\u2019d to Jove.[18]415\nKing over all! now grant me to avenge\nMy wrongs on Alexander; now subdue\nThe aggressor under me; that men unborn\nMay shudder at the thought of faith abused,\nAnd hospitality with rape repaid.420\nHe said, and brandishing his massy spear,\nDismiss\u2019d it. Through the burnish\u2019d buckler broad\nOf Priam\u2019s son the stormy weapon flew,\nTranspierced his costly hauberk, and the vest\nRipp\u2019d on his flank; but with a sideward bend425\nHe baffled it, and baulk\u2019d the dreadful death.\nThen Menela\u00fcs drawing his bright blade,\nSwung it aloft, and on the hairy crest\nSmote him; but shiver\u2019d into fragments small\nThe falchion at the stroke fell from his hand.430\nVexation fill\u2019d him; to the spacious heavens\nHe look\u2019d, and with a voice of wo exclaim\u2019d\u2014\nJupiter! of all powers by man adored\nTo me most adverse! Confident I hoped\nRevenge for Paris\u2019 treason, but my sword435\nIs shivered, and I sped my spear in vain.\nSo saying, he sprang on him, and his long crest\nSeized fast; then, turning, drew him by that hold\nToward the Grecian host. The broider\u2019d band\nThat underbraced his helmet at the chin,440\nStrain\u2019d to his smooth neck with a ceaseless force,\nChok\u2019d him; and now had Menelaus won\nDeathless renown, dragging him off the field,\nBut Venus, foam-sprung Goddess, feeling quick\nHis peril imminent, snapp\u2019d short the brace445\nThough stubborn, by a slaughter\u2019d[19] ox supplied,\nAnd the void helmet follow\u2019d as he pull\u2019d.\nThat prize the Hero, whirling it aloft,\nThrew to his Greeks, who caught it and secured,\nThen with vindictive strides he rush\u2019d again450\nOn Paris, spear in hand; but him involved\nIn mist opaque Venus with ease divine\nSnatch\u2019d thence, and in his chamber placed him, fill\u2019d\nWith scents odorous, spirit-soothing sweets.\nNor stay\u2019d the Goddess, but at once in quest455\nOf Helen went; her on a lofty tower\nShe found, where many a damsel stood of Troy,\nAnd twitch\u2019d her fragrant robe. In form she seem\u2019d\nAn ancient matron, who, while Helen dwelt\nIn Laced\u00e6mon, her unsullied wool460\nDress\u2019d for her, faithfullest of all her train.\nLike her disguised the Goddess thus began.\nHaste\u2014Paris calls thee\u2014on his sculptured couch,\n(Sparkling alike his looks and his attire)\nHe waits thy wish\u2019d return. Thou wouldst not dream465\nThat he had fought; he rather seems prepared\nFor dance, or after dance, for soft repose.\nSo saying, she tumult raised in Helen\u2019s mind.\nYet soon as by her symmetry of neck,\nBy her love-kindling breasts and luminous eyes470\nShe knew the Goddess, her she thus bespake.\nAh whence, deceitful deity! thy wish\nNow to ensnare me? Wouldst thou lure me, say,\nTo some fair city of M\u00e6onian name\nOr Phrygian, more remote from Sparta still?475\nHast thou some human favorite also there?\nIs it because Atrides hath prevailed\nTo vanquish Paris, and would bear me home\nUnworthy as I am, that thou attempt\u2019st\nAgain to cheat me? Go thyself\u2014sit thou480\nBeside him\u2014for his sake renounce the skies;\nWatch him, weep for him; till at length his wife\nHe deign to make thee, or perchance his slave.\nI go not (now to go were shame indeed)\nTo dress his couch; nor will I be the jest485\nOf all my sex in Ilium. Oh! my griefs\nAre infinite, and more than I can bear.\nTo whom, the foam-sprung Goddess, thus incensed.\nAh wretch! provoke not me; lest in my wrath\nAbandoning thee, I not hate thee less490\nThan now I fondly love thee, and beget\nSuch detestation of thee in all hearts,\nGrecian and Trojan, that thou die abhorr\u2019d.\nThe Goddess ceased. Jove\u2019s daughter, Helen, fear\u2019d,\nAnd, in her lucid veil close wrapt around,495\nSilent retired, of all those Trojan dames\nUnseen, and Venus led, herself, the way.\nSoon then as Alexander\u2019s fair abode\nThey reach\u2019d, her maidens quick their tasks resumed,\nAnd she to her own chamber lofty-roof\u2019d500\nAscended, loveliest of her sex. A seat\nFor Helen, daughter of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d,\nTo Paris opposite, the Queen of smiles\nHerself disposed; but with averted eyes\nShe sat before him, and him keen reproach\u2019d.505\nThou hast escaped.\u2014Ah would that thou hadst died\nBy that heroic arm, mine husband\u2019s erst!\nThou once didst vaunt thee in address and strength\nSuperior. Go then\u2014challenge yet again\nThe warlike Menela\u00fcs forth in fight.510\nBut hold. The hero of the amber locks\nProvoke no more so rashly, lest the point\nOf his victorious spear soon stretch thee dead.\nShe ended, to whom Paris thus replied.\nAh Helen, wound me not with taunt severe!515\nMe, Menela\u00fcs, by Minerva\u2019s aid,\nHath vanquish\u2019d now, who may hereafter, him.\nWe also have our Gods. But let us love.\nFor never since the day when thee I bore\nFrom pleasant Laced\u00e6mon o\u2019er the waves520\nTo Cran\u00e4e\u2019s fair isle, and first enjoy\u2019d\nThy beauty, loved I as I love thee now,\nOr felt such sweetness of intense desire.\n\nHe spake, and sought his bed, whom follow\u2019d soon\nJove\u2019s daughter, reconciled to his embrace.525\nBut Menela\u00fcs like a lion ranged\nThe multitude, inquiring far and near\nFor Paris lost. Yet neither Trojan him\nNor friend of Troy could show, whom, else, through love\nNone had conceal\u2019d, for him as death itself530\nAll hated, but his going none had seen.\nAmidst them all then spake the King of men.\nTrojans, and Dardans, and allies of Troy!\nThe warlike Menela\u00fcs hath prevailed,\nAs is most plain. Now therefore bring ye forth535\nHelen with all her treasures, also bring\nSuch large amercement as is meet, a sum\nTo be remember\u2019d in all future times.\nSo spake Atrides, and Achaia\u2019s host\nWith loud applause confirm\u2019d the monarch\u2019s claim.540\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE FOURTH BOOK.\n\nIn a Council of the Gods, a dispute arises between Jupiter and Juno,\nwhich is at last compromised, Jove consenting to dispatch Minerva with\na charge to incite some Trojan to a violation of the truce. Minerva\ndescends for that purpose, and in the form of Laodocus, a son of Priam,\nexhorts Pandarus to shoot at Menelaus, and succeeds. Menelaus is\nwounded, and Agamemnon having consigned him to the care of Machaon,\ngoes forth to perform the duties of commander-in-chief, in the\nencouragement of his host to battle. The battle begins.\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\n\nNow, on the golden floor of Jove\u2019s abode\nThe Gods all sat consulting; Hebe them,\nGraceful, with nectar served;[1] they pledging each\nHis next, alternate quaff\u2019d from cups of gold,\nAnd at their ease reclined, look\u2019d down on Troy,5\nWhen, sudden, Jove essay\u2019d by piercing speech\nInvidious, to enkindle Juno\u2019s ire.\nTwo Goddesses on Menelaus\u2019 part\nConfederate stand, Juno in Argos known,\nPallas in Alalcomene;[2] yet they10\nSequester\u2019d sit, look on, and are amused.\nNot so smile-loving Venus; she, beside\nHer champion station\u2019d, saves him from his fate,\nAnd at this moment, by her aid, he lives.\nBut now, since victory hath proved the lot15\nOf warlike Menelaus, weigh ye well\nThe matter; shall we yet the ruinous strife\nProlong between the nations, or consent\nTo give them peace? should peace your preference win,\nAnd prove alike acceptable to all,20\nStand Ilium, and let Menelaus bear\nHelen of Argos back to Greece again.\n\nHe ended; Juno and Minerva heard,\nLow-murmuring deep disgust; for side by side\nThey forging sat calamity to Troy.25\nMinerva through displeasure against Jove\nNought utter\u2019d, for with rage her bosom boil\u2019d;\nBut Juno check\u2019d not hers, who thus replied.\nWhat word hath pass\u2019d thy lips, Jove most severe!\nHow? wouldst thou render fruitless all my pains?30\nThe sweat that I have pour\u2019d? my steeds themselves\nHave fainted while I gather\u2019d Greece in arms\nFor punishment of Priam and his sons.\nDo it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven.\nThen her the Thunderer answer\u2019d sore displeased.35\nAh shameless! how have Priam and his sons\nSo much transgress\u2019d against thee, that thou burn\u2019st\nWith ceaseless rage to ruin populous Troy?\nGo, make thine entrance at her lofty gates,\nPriam and all his house, and all his host40\nAlive devour; then, haply, thou wilt rest;\nDo even as thou wilt, that this dispute\nLive not between us a consuming fire\nFor ever. But attend; mark well the word.\nWhen I shall also doom in future time45\nSome city to destruction, dear to thee,\nOppose me not, but give my fury way\nAs I give way to thine, not pleased myself,\nYet not unsatisfied, so thou be pleased.\nFor of all cities of the sons of men,50\nAnd which the sun and stars from heaven behold,\nMe sacred Troy most pleases, Priam me\nMost, and the people of the warrior King.\nNor without cause. They feed mine altar well;\nLibation there, and steam of savory scent55\nFail not, the tribute which by lot is ours.\nHim answer\u2019d, then, the Goddess ample-eyed,[3]\nMajestic Juno: Three fair cities me,\nOf all the earth, most interest and engage,\nMycen\u00e6 for magnificence renown\u2019d,60\nArgos, and Sparta. Them, when next thy wrath\nShall be inflamed against them, lay thou waste;\nI will not interpose on their behalf;\nThou shalt not hear me murmur; what avail\nComplaint or force against thy matchless arm?65\nYet were it most unmeet that even I\nShould toil in vain; I also boast a birth\nCelestial; Saturn deeply wise, thy Sire,\nIs also mine; our origin is one.\nThee I acknowledge Sovereign, yet account70\nMyself entitled by a twofold claim\nTo veneration both from Gods and men,\nThe daughter of Jove\u2019s sire, and spouse of Jove.\nConcession mutual therefore both thyself\nBefits and me, whom when the Gods perceive75\nDisposed to peace, they also shall accord.\nCome then.\u2014To yon dread field dispatch in haste\nMinerva, with command that she incite\nThe Trojans first to violate their oath\nBy some fresh insult on the exulting Greeks.80\nSo Juno; nor the sire of all refused,\nBut in wing\u2019d accents thus to Pallas spake.\nBegone; swift fly to yonder field; incite\nThe Trojans first to violate their oath\nBy some fresh insult on the exulting Greeks.85\nThe Goddess heard, and what she wish\u2019d, enjoin\u2019d,\nDown-darted swift from the Olympian heights,\nIn form a meteor, such as from his hand\nNot seldom Jove dismisses, beaming bright\nAnd breaking into stars, an omen sent90\nTo mariners, or to some numerous host.\nSuch Pallas seem\u2019d, and swift descending, dropp\u2019d\nFull in the midst between them. They with awe\nThat sign portentous and with wonder view\u2019d,\nAchaians both and Trojans, and his next95\nThe soldier thus bespake. Now either war\nAnd dire hostility again shall flame,\nOr Jove now gives us peace. Both are from Jove.\nSo spake the soldiery; but she the form\nTaking of brave Laodocus, the son100\nOf old Antenor, throughout all the ranks\nSought godlike Pandarus.[4] Ere long she found\nThe valiant son illustrious of Lycaon,\nStanding encompass\u2019d by his dauntless troops,\nBroad-shielded warriors, from \u00c6sepus\u2019 stream105\nHis followers; to his side the Goddess came,\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents ardent him bespake.\nBrave offspring of Lycaon, is there hope\nThat thou wilt hear my counsel? darest thou slip\nA shaft at Menelaus? much renown110\nThou shalt and thanks from all the Trojans win,\nBut most of all, from Paris, prince of Troy.\nFrom him illustrious gifts thou shalt receive\nDoubtless, when Menelaus he shall see\nThe martial son of Atreus by a shaft115\nSubdued of thine, placed on his funeral pile.\nCome. Shoot at Menelaus, glorious Chief!\nBut vow to Lycian Ph\u0153bus bow-renown\u2019d\nA hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock,\nTo fair Zeleia\u2019s[5] walls once safe restored.120\nSo Pallas spake, to whom infatuate he\nListening, uncased at once his polished bow.[6]\nThat bow, the laden brows of a wild goat\nSalacious had supplied; him on a day\nForth-issuing from his cave, in ambush placed125\nHe wounded with an arrow to his breast\nDispatch\u2019d, and on the rock supine he fell.\nEach horn had from his head tall growth attain\u2019d,\nFull sixteen palms; them shaven smooth the smith\nHad aptly join\u2019d, and tipt their points with gold.130\nThat bow he strung, then, stooping, planted firm\nThe nether horn, his comrades bold the while\nScreening him close with shields, lest ere the prince\nWere stricken, Menelaus brave in arms,\nThe Greeks with fierce assault should interpose.135\nHe raised his quiver\u2019s lid; he chose a dart\nUnflown, full-fledged, and barb\u2019d with pangs of death.\nHe lodged in haste the arrow on the string,\nAnd vow\u2019d to Lycian Ph\u0153bus bow-renown\u2019d\nA hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock,140\nTo fair Zeleia\u2019s walls once safe restored.\nCompressing next nerve and notch\u2019d arrow-head\nHe drew back both together, to his pap\nDrew home the nerve, the barb home to his bow,\nAnd when the horn was curved to a wide arch,145\nHe twang\u2019d it. Whizz\u2019d the bowstring, and the reed\nLeap\u2019d off, impatient for the distant throng.\nThee, Menelaus, then the blessed Gods\nForgat not; Pallas huntress of the spoil,\nThy guardian then, baffled the cruel dart.150\nFar as a mother wafts the fly aside[7]\nThat haunts her slumbering babe, so far she drove\nIts course aslant, directing it herself\nAgainst the golden clasps that join\u2019d his belt;\nFor there the doubled hauberk interposed.155\nThe bitter arrow plunged into his belt.\nIt pierced his broider\u2019d belt, stood fixt within\nHis twisted hauberk, nor the interior quilt,\nThough penetrable least to arrow-points\nAnd his best guard, withheld it, but it pass\u2019d160\nThat also, and the Hero\u2019s skin inscribed.\nQuick flowed a sable current from the wound.\nAs when a Carian or M\u00e6onian maid\nImpurples ivory ordain\u2019d to grace\nThe cheek of martial steed; safe stored it lies,165\nBy many a Chief desired, but proves at last\nThe stately trapping of some prince,[8] the pride\nOf his high pamper\u2019d steed, nor less his own;\nSuch, Menelaus, seem\u2019d thy shapely thighs,\nThy legs, thy feet, stained with thy trickling blood.170\nShudder\u2019d King Agamemnon when he saw\nThe blood fast trickling from the wound, nor less\nShudder\u2019d himself the bleeding warrior bold.\nBut neck and barb observing from the flesh\nExtant, he gather\u2019d heart, and lived again.175\nThe royal Agamemnon, sighing, grasp\u2019d\nThe hand of Menelaus, and while all\nTheir followers sigh\u2019d around them, thus began.[9]\n\nI swore thy death, my brother, when I swore\nThis truce, and set thee forth in sight of Greeks180\nAnd Trojans, our sole champion; for the foe\nHath trodden underfoot his sacred oath,\nAnd stained it with thy blood. But not in vain,\nThe truce was ratified, the blood of lambs\nPoured forth, libation made, and right hands join\u2019d185\nIn holy confidence. The wrath of Jove\nMay sleep, but will not always; they shall pay\nDear penalty; their own obnoxious heads\nShall be the mulct, their children and their wives.\nFor this I know, know surely; that a day190\nShall come, when Ilium, when the warlike King\nOf Ilium and his host shall perish all.\nSaturnian Jove high-throned, dwelling in heaven,\nResentful of this outrage, then shall shake\nHis storm-clad \u00c6gis over them. He will;195\nI speak no fable. Time shall prove me true.\nBut, oh my Menelaus, dire distress\nAwaits me, if thy close of life be come,\nAnd thou must die. Then ignominy foul\nShall hunt me back to Argos long-desired;200\nFor then all here will recollect their home,\nAnd, hope abandoning, will Helen yield\nTo be the boast of Priam, and of Troy.\nSo shall our toils be vain, and while thy bones\nShall waste these clods beneath, Troy\u2019s haughty sons205\nThe tomb of Menelaus glory-crown\u2019d\nInsulting barbarous, shall scoff at me.\nSo may Atrides, shall they say, perform\nHis anger still as he performed it here,\nWhither he led an unsuccessful host,210\nWhence he hath sail\u2019d again without the spoils,\nAnd where he left his brother\u2019s bones to rot.\nSo shall the Trojan speak; then open earth\nHer mouth, and hide me in her deepest gulfs!\nBut him, the hero of the golden locks215\nThus cheer\u2019d. My brother, fear not, nor infect\nWith fear the Grecians; the sharp-pointed reed\nHath touch\u2019d no vital part. The broider\u2019d zone,\nThe hauberk, and the tough interior quilt,\nWork of the armorer, its force repress\u2019d.220\nHim answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men.\nSo be it brother! but the hand of one\nSkilful to heal shall visit and shall dress\nThe wound with drugs of pain-assuaging power.\nHe ended, and his noble herald, next,225\nBespake, Talthybius. Haste, call hither quick\nThe son of \u00c6sculapius, leech renown\u2019d,\nThe prince Machaon. Bid him fly to attend\nThe warlike Chieftain Menelaus; him\nSome archer, either Lycian or of Troy,230\nA dexterous one, hath stricken with a shaft\nTo his own glory, and to our distress.\nHe spake, nor him the herald disobey\u2019d,\nBut through the Greeks bright-arm\u2019d his course began\nThe Hero seeking earnest on all sides235\nMachaon. Him, ere long, he station\u2019d saw\nAmid the shielded-ranks of his brave band\nFrom steed-famed Tricca drawn, and at his side\nWith accents ardor-wing\u2019d, him thus address\u2019d.\nHaste, Asclepiades! The King of men240\nCalls thee. Delay not. Thou must visit quick\nBrave Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son, for him\nSome archer, either Lycian or of Troy,\nA dexterous one, hath stricken with a shaft\nTo his own glory, and to our distress.245\nSo saying, he roused Machaon, who his course\nThrough the wide host began. Arriving soon\nWhere wounded Menelaus stood, while all\nThe bravest of Achaia\u2019s host around\nThe godlike hero press\u2019d, he strove at once250\nTo draw the arrow from his cincture forth.\nBut, drawing, bent the barbs. He therefore loosed\nHis broider\u2019d belt, his hauberk and his quilt,\nWork of the armorer, and laying bare\nHis body where the bitter shaft had plow\u2019d255\nHis flesh, he suck\u2019d the wound, then spread it o\u2019er\nWith drugs of balmy power, given on a time\nFor friendship\u2019s sake by Chiron to his sire.\nWhile Menelaus thus the cares engross\u2019d\nOf all those Chiefs, the shielded powers of Troy260\n\u2019Gan move toward them, and the Greeks again\nPut on their armor, mindful of the fight.\nThen hadst thou[10] not great Agamemnon seen\nSlumbering, or trembling, or averse from war,\nBut ardent to begin his glorious task.265\nHis steeds, and his bright chariot brass-inlaid\nHe left; the snorting steeds Eurymedon,\nOffspring of Ptolemy Pira\u00efdes\nDetain\u2019d apart; for him he strict enjoin\u2019d\nAttendance near, lest weariness of limbs270\nShould seize him marshalling his numerous host.\nSo forth he went, and through the files on foot\nProceeding, where the warrior Greeks he saw\nAlert, he roused them by his words the more.[11]\nArgives! abate no spark of all your fire.275\nJove will not prosper traitors. Them who first\nTransgress\u2019d the truce the vultures shall devour,\nBut we (their city taken) shall their wives\nLead captive, and their children home to Greece.\nSo cheer\u2019d he them. But whom he saw supine,280\nOr in the rugged work of war remiss,\nIn terms of anger them he stern rebuked.\nOh Greeks! The shame of Argos! Arrow-doom\u2019d!\nBlush ye not? Wherefore stand ye thus aghast,\nLike fawns which wearied after scouring wide285\nThe champain, gaze and pant, and can no more?\nSenseless like them ye stand, nor seek the fight.\nIs it your purpose patient here to wait\nTill Troy invade your vessels on the shore\nOf the grey deep, that ye may trial make290\nOf Jove, if he will prove, himself, your shield?\nThus, in discharge of his high office, pass\u2019d\nAtrides through the ranks, and now arrived\nWhere, hardy Chief! Idomeneus in front\nOf his bold Cretans stood, stout as a boar295\nThe van he occupied, while in the rear\nMeriones harangued the most remote.\nThem so prepared the King of men beheld\nWith joyful heart, and thus in courteous terms\nInstant the brave Idomeneus address\u2019d.300\nThee fighting, feasting, howsoe\u2019er employed,\nI most respect, Idomeneus, of all\nThe well-horsed Dan\u00e4i; for when the Chiefs\nOf Argos, banqueting, their beakers charge\nWith rosy wine the honorable meed305\nOf valor, thou alone of all the Greeks\nDrink\u2019st not by measure.[12] No\u2014thy goblet stands\nReplenish\u2019d still, and like myself thou know\u2019st\nNo rule or bound, save what thy choice prescribes.\nMarch. Seek the foe. Fight now as heretofore,310\nTo whom Idomeneus of Crete replied,\nAtrides! all the friendship and the love\nWhich I have promised will I well perform.\nGo; animate the rest, Chief after Chief\nOf the Achaians, that the fight begin.315\nFor Troy has scatter\u2019d to the winds all faith,\nAll conscience; and for such her treachery foul\nShall have large recompence of death and wo.\nHe said, whom Agamemnon at his heart\nExulting, pass\u2019d, and in his progress came320\nWhere stood each Ajax; them he found prepared\nWith all their cloud of infantry behind.\nAs when the goat-herd on some rocky point\nAdvanced, a cloud sees wafted o\u2019er the deep\nBy western gales, and rolling slow along,325\nTo him, who stands remote, pitch-black it seems,\nAnd comes with tempest charged; he at the sight\nShuddering, his flock compels into a cave;\nSo moved the gloomy phalanx, rough with spears,\nAnd dense with shields of youthful warriors bold,330\nClose-following either Ajax to the fight.\nThem also, pleased, the King of men beheld,\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents hail\u2019d them as he pass\u2019d.\nBrave leaders of the mail-clad host of Greece!\nI move not you to duty; ye yourselves335\nMove others, and no lesson need from me.\nJove, Pallas, and Apollo! were but all\nCourageous as yourselves, soon Priam\u2019s towers\nShould totter, and his Ilium storm\u2019d and sack\u2019d\nBy our victorious bands, stoop to the dust.340\nHe ceased, and still proceeding, next arrived\nWhere stood the Pylian orator, his band\nMarshalling under all their leaders bold\nAlastor, Chromius, Pelagon the vast,\nH\u00e6mon the prince, and Bias, martial Chief.345\nChariot and horse he station\u2019d in the front;\nHis numerous infantry, a strong reserve\nRight valiant, in the rear; the worst, and those\nIn whom he trusted least, he drove between,\nThat such through mere necessity might act.350\nFirst to his charioteers he gave in charge\nTheir duty; bade them rein their horses hard,\nShunning confusion. Let no warrior, vain\nAnd overweening of his strength or skill,\nStart from his rank to dare the fight alone,355\nOr fall behind it, weakening whom he leaves.\n[13]And if, dismounted from his own, he climb\nAnother\u2019s chariot, let him not affect\nPerverse the reins, but let him stand, his spear\nAdvancing firm, far better so employ\u2019d.360\nSuch was the discipline, in ancient times,\nOf our forefathers; by these rules they fought\nSuccessful, and laid many a city low.\nSo counsell\u2019d them the venerable Chief\nLong time expert in arms; him also saw365\nKing Agamemnon with delight, and said,\nOld Chief! ah how I wish, that thy firm heart\nWere but supported by as firm a knee!\nBut time unhinges all. Oh that some youth\nHad thine old age, and thou wast young again!370\nTo whom the valiant Nestor thus replied.\nAtrides, I could also ardent wish\nThat I were now robust as when I struck\nBrave Ereuthalion[14] breathless to the ground!\nBut never all their gifts the Gods confer375\nOn man at once; if then I had the force\nOf youth, I suffer now the effects of age.\nYet ancient as I am, I will be seen\nStill mingling with the charioteers, still prompt\nTo give them counsel; for to counsel youth380\nIs the old warrior\u2019s province. Let the green\nIn years, my juniors, unimpaired by time,\nPush with the lance, for they have strength to boast.\nSo he, whom Agamemnon joyful heard,\nAnd passing thence, the son of Peteos found385\nMenestheus, foremost in equestrian fame,\nAmong the brave Athenians; near to him\nUlysses held his station, and at hand\nThe Cephallenians stood, hardy and bold;\nFor rumor none of the approaching fight390\nThem yet had reach\u2019d, so recent had the stir\nArisen in either host; they, therefore, watch\u2019d\nTill the example of some other band\nMarching, should prompt them to begin the fight,\nBut Agamemnon, thus, the King of men395\nThem seeing, sudden and severe reproved.\nMenestheus, son of Peteos prince renown\u2019d,\nAnd thou, deviser of all evil wiles!\nAdept in artifice! why stand ye here\nAppall\u2019d? why wait ye on this distant spot400\nTill others move? I might expect from you\nMore readiness to meet the burning war,\nWhom foremost I invite of all to share\nThe banquet, when the Princes feast with me.\nThere ye are prompt; ye find it pleasant there405\nTo eat your savory food, and quaff your wine\nDelicious till satiety ensue;\nBut here you could be well content to stand\nSpectators only, while ten Grecian troops\nShould wage before you the wide-wasting war.410\nTo whom Ulysses, with resentful tone\nDark-frowning, thus replied. What words are these\nWhich have escaped thy lips; and for what cause,\nAtrides, hast thou call\u2019d me slow to fight?\nWhen we of Greece shall in sharp contest clash415\nWith you steed-tamer Trojans, mark me then;\nThen thou shalt see (if the concerns of war\nSo nearly touch thee, and thou so incline)\nThe father of Telemachus, engaged\nAmong the foremost Trojans. But thy speech420\nWas light as is the wind, and rashly made.\nWhen him thus moved he saw, the monarch smiled\nComplacent, and in gentler terms replied.\nLa\u00ebrtes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\nShort reprimand and exhortation short425\nSuffice for thee, nor did I purpose more.\nFor I have known thee long, that thou art one\nOf kindest nature, and so much my friend\nThat we have both one heart. Go therefore thou,\nLead on, and if a word have fallen amiss,430\nWe will hereafter mend it, and may heaven\nObliterate in thine heart its whole effect!\nHe ceased, and ranging still along the line,\nThe son of Tydeus, Diomede, perceived,\nHeroic Chief, by chariots all around435\nEnviron\u2019d, and by steeds, at side of whom\nStood Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus.\nHim also, Agamemnon, King of men,\nIn accents of asperity reproved.\nAh, son of Tydeus, Chief of dauntless heart440\nAnd of equestrian fame! why standest thou\nAppall\u2019d, and peering through the walks of war?\nSo did not Tydeus. In the foremost fight\nHis favorite station was, as they affirm\nWho witness\u2019d his exploits; I never saw445\nOr met him, but by popular report\nHe was the bravest warrior of his day.\nYet came he once, but not in hostile sort,\nTo fair Mycen\u00e6, by the godlike prince\nAttended, Polynices, at what time450\nThe host was called together, and the siege\nWas purposed of the sacred city Thebes.\nEarnest they sued for an auxiliar band,\nWhich we had gladly granted, but that Jove\nBy unpropitious tokens interfered.455\nSo forth they went, and on the reedy banks\nArriving of Asopus, there thy sire\nBy designation of the Greeks was sent\nAmbassador, and enter\u2019d Thebes. He found\nIn Eteocles\u2019 palace numerous guests,460\nThe sons of Cadmus feasting, among whom,\nAlthough a solitary stranger, stood\nThy father without fear, and challenged forth\nTheir best to cope with him in manly games.\nThem Tydeus vanquish\u2019d easily, such aid465\nPallas vouchsafed him. Then the spur-arm\u2019d race\nOf Cadmus was incensed, and fifty youths\nIn ambush close expected his return.\nThem, Lycophontes obstinate in fight,\nSon of Autophonus, and M\u00e6on, son470\nOf H\u00e6mon, Chief of godlike stature, led.\nThose also Tydeus slew; M\u00e6on except,\n(Whom, warned from heaven, he spared, and sent him home\nWith tidings of the rest) he slew them all.\nSuch was \u00c6tolian Tydeus; who begat475\nA son in speech his better, not in arms.\nHe ended, and his sovereign\u2019s awful voice\nTydides reverencing, nought replied;\nBut thus the son of glorious Capaneus.\nAtrides, conscious of the truth, speak truth.480\nWe with our sires compared, superior praise\nClaim justly.[15] We, confiding in the aid\nOf Jove, and in propitious signs from heaven,\nLed to the city consecrate to Mars\nOur little host, inferior far to theirs,485\nAnd took seven-gated Thebes, under whose walls\nOur fathers by their own imprudence fell.\nTheir glory, then, match never more with ours.\nHe spake, whom with a frowning brow the brave\nTydides answer\u2019d. Sthenelus, my friend!490\nI give thee counsel. Mark it. Hold thy peace.\nIf Agamemnon, who hath charge of all,\nExcite his well-appointed host to war,\nHe hath no blame from me. For should the Greeks\n(Her people vanquished) win imperial Troy,495\nThe glory shall be his; or, if his host\nO\u2019erpower\u2019d in battle perish, his the shame.\nCome, therefore; be it ours to rouse at once\nTo action all the fury of our might.\nHe said, and from his chariot to the plain500\nLeap\u2019d ardent; rang the armor on the breast\nOf the advancing Chief; the boldest heart\nHad felt emotion, startled at the sound.\nAs when the waves by Zephyrus up-heaved\nCrowd fast toward some sounding shore, at first,505\nOn the broad bosom of the deep their heads\nThey curl on high, then breaking on the land\nThunder, and o\u2019er the rocks that breast the flood\nBorne turgid, scatter far the showery spray;\nSo moved the Greeks successive, rank by rank,510\nAnd phalanx after phalanx, every Chief\nHis loud command proclaiming, while the rest,\nAs voice in all those thousands none had been\nHeard mute; and, in resplendent armor clad,\nWith martial order terrible advanced.515\nNot so the Trojans came. As sheep, the flock\nOf some rich man, by thousands in his court\nPenn\u2019d close at milking time, incessant bleat,\nLoud answering all their bleating lambs without,\nSuch din from Ilium\u2019s wide-spread host arose.520\nNor was their shout, nor was their accent one,\nBut mingled languages were heard of men\nFrom various climes. These Mars to battle roused,\nThose Pallas azure-eyed; nor Terror thence\nNor Flight was absent, nor insatiate Strife,525\nSister and mate of homicidal Mars,\nWho small at first, but swift to grow, from earth\nHer towering crest lifts gradual to the skies.\nShe, foe alike to both, the brands dispersed\nOf burning hate between them, and the woes530\nEnhanced of battle wheresoe\u2019er she pass\u2019d.\nAnd now the battle join\u2019d. Shield clash\u2019d with shield[16]\nAnd spear with spear, conflicting corselets rang,\nBoss\u2019d bucklers met, and tumult wild arose.\nThen, many a yell was heard, and many a shout535\nLoud intermix\u2019d, the slayer o\u2019er the maim\u2019d\nExulting, and the field was drench\u2019d with blood.\nAs when two winter torrents rolling down\nThe mountains, shoot their floods through gulleys huge\nInto one gulf below, station\u2019d remote540\nThe shepherd in the uplands hears the roar;\nSuch was the thunder of the mingling hosts.\nAnd first, Antilochus a Trojan Chief\nSlew Echepolus, from Thalysias sprung,\nContending valiant in the van of Troy.545\nHim smiting on his crested casque, he drove\nThe brazen lance into his front, and pierced\nThe bones within; night overspread his eyes,\nAnd in fierce battle, like a tower, he fell.\nHim fallen by both feet Calchodon\u2019s son550\nSeized, royal Elephenor, leader brave\nOf the Abantes, and in haste to strip\nHis armor, drew him from the fight aside.\nBut short was that attempt. Him so employ\u2019d\nDauntless Agenor mark\u2019d, and as he stoop\u2019d,555\nIn his unshielded flank a pointed spear\nImplanted deep; he languid sunk and died.\nSo Elephenor fell, for whom arose\nSharp conflict; Greeks and Trojans mutual flew\nLike wolves to battle, and man grappled man.560\nThen Telamonian Ajax, in his prime\nOf youthful vigor Sim\u00f6isius slew,[17]\nSon of Anthemion. Him on Simo\u00efs\u2019 banks\nHis mother bore, when with her parents once\nShe came from Ida down to view the flocks,565\nAnd thence they named him; but his parents\u2019\nHe lived not to requite, in early youth\nSlain by the spear of Ajax famed in arms.\nFor him advancing Ajax at the pap\nWounded; right through his shoulder driven the point570\nStood forth behind; he fell, and press\u2019d the dust.\nSo in some spacious marsh the poplar falls\nSmooth-skinn\u2019d, with boughs unladen save aloft;\nSome chariot-builder with his axe the trunk\nSevers, that he may warp it to a wheel575\nOf shapely form; meantime exposed it lies\nTo parching airs beside the running stream;\nSuch Sim\u00f6isius seemed, Anthemion\u2019s son,\nWhom noble Ajax slew. But soon at him\nAntiphus, son of Priam, bright in arms,580\nHurl\u2019d through the multitude his pointed spear.\nHe erred from Ajax, but he pierced the groin\nOf Leucus, valiant warrior of the band\nLed by Ulysses. He the body dragg\u2019d\nApart, but fell beside it, and let fall,585\nBreathless himself, the burthen from his hand.\nThen burn\u2019d Ulysses\u2019 wrath for Leucus slain,\nAnd through the foremost combatants, array\u2019d\nIn dazzling arms, he rush\u2019d. Full near he stood,\nAnd, looking keen around him, hurl\u2019d a lance.590\nBack fell the Trojans from before the face\nDispersed of great Ulysses. Not in vain\nHis weapon flew, but on the field outstretch\u2019d\nA spurious son of Priam, from the shores\nCall\u2019d of Abydus famed for fleetest mares,595\nDemocoon; him, for Leucus\u2019 sake enraged,\nUlysses through both temples with his spear\nTranspierced. The night of death hung on his eyes,\nAnd sounding on his batter\u2019d arms he fell.\nThen Hector and the van of Troy retired;600\nLoud shout the Grecians; these draw off the dead,\nThose onward march amain, and from the heights\nOf Pergamus Apollo looking down\nIn anger, to the Trojans called aloud.\nTurn, turn, ye Trojans! face your Grecian foes.605\nThey, like yourselves, are vulnerable flesh,\nNot adamant or steel. Your direst dread\nAchilles, son of Thetis radiant-hair\u2019d,\nFights not, but sullen in his fleet abides.[18]\nSuch from the citadel was heard the voice610\nOf dread Apollo. But Minerva ranged\nMeantime, Tritonian progeny of Jove,\nThe Grecians, rousing whom she saw remiss.\nThen Amarynceus\u2019 son, Diores, felt\nThe force of fate, bruised by a rugged rock615\nAt his right heel, which Pirus, Thracian Chief,\nThe son of Imbrasus of \u00c6nos, threw.\nBones and both tendons in its fall the mass\nEnormous crush\u2019d. He, stretch\u2019d in dust supine,\nWith palms outspread toward his warrior friends620\nLay gasping life away. But he who gave\nThe fatal blow, Pirus, advancing, urged\nInto his navel a keen lance, and shed\nHis bowels forth; then, darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nNor Pirus long survived; him through the breast625\nAbove the pap, \u00c6tolian Thoas pierced,\nAnd in his lungs set fast the quivering spear.\nThen Thoas swift approach\u2019d, pluck\u2019d from the wound\nHis stormy spear, and with his falchion bright\nGashing his middle belly, stretch\u2019d him dead.630\nYet stripp\u2019d he not the slain, whom with long spears\nHis Thracians hairy-scalp\u2019d[19] so round about\nEncompassed, that though bold and large of limb\nWere Thoas, from before them him they thrust\nStaggering and reeling in his forced retreat.635\nThey therefore in the dust, the Epean Chief\nDiores, and the Thracian, Pirus lay\nStretch\u2019d side by side, with numerous slain around.\nThen had Minerva led through all that field\nSome warrior yet unhurt, him sheltering safe640\nFrom all annoyance dread of dart or spear,\nNo cause of blame in either had he found\nThat day, so many Greeks and Trojans press\u2019d,\nExtended side by side, the dusty plain.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK V.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE FIFTH BOOK.\n\nDiomede is extraordinarily distinguished. He kills Pandarus, who had\nviolated the truce, and wounds first Venus and then Mars.\n\n\nBOOK V.\n\n\nThen Athen\u00e6an Pallas on the son\nOf Tydeus,[1] Diomede, new force conferr\u2019d\nAnd daring courage, that the Argives all\nHe might surpass, and deathless fame achieve.\nFires on his helmet and his shield around5\nShe kindled, bright and steady as the star\nAutumnal,[2] which in Ocean newly bathed\nAssumes fresh beauty; with such glorious beams\nHis head encircling and his shoulders broad,\nShe urged him forth into the thickest fight.10\nThere lived a man in Troy, Dares his name,\nThe priest of Vulcan; rich he was and good,\nThe father of two sons, Id\u00e6us this,\nThat, Phegeus call\u2019d; accomplish\u2019d warriors both.\nThese, issuing from their phalanx, push\u2019d direct15\nTheir steeds at Diomede, who fought on foot.\nWhen now small interval was left between,\nFirst Phegeus his long-shadow\u2019d spear dismiss\u2019d;\nBut over Diomede\u2019s left shoulder pass\u2019d\nThe point, innocuous. Then his splendid lance20\nTydides hurl\u2019d; nor ineffectual flew\nThe weapon from his hand, but Phegeus pierced\nHis paps between, and forced him to the ground.\nAt once, his sumptuous chariot left, down leap\u2019d\nId\u00e6sus, wanting courage to defend25\nHis brother slain; nor had he scaped himself\nHis louring fate, but Vulcan, to preserve\nHis ancient priest from unmixt sorrow, snatch\u2019d\nThe fugitive in darkness wrapt, away.\nThen brave Tydides, driving off the steeds,30\nConsign\u2019d them to his fellow-warriors\u2019 care,\nThat they might lead them down into the fleet.\nThe valiant Trojans, when they saw the sons\nOf Dares, one beside his chariot slain,\nAnd one by flight preserved, through all their host35\nFelt consternation. Then Minerva seized\nThe hand of fiery Mars, and thus she spake.\nGore-tainted homicide, town-battering Mars!\nLeave we the Trojans and the Greeks to wage\nFierce fight alone, Jove prospering whom he will,40\nSo shall we not provoke our father\u2019s ire.\nShe said, and from the fight conducted forth\nThe impetuous Deity, whom on the side\nShe seated of Scamander deep-embank\u2019d.[3]\nAnd now the host of Troy to flight inclined45\nBefore the Grecians, and the Chiefs of Greece\nEach slew a warrior. Agamemnon first\nGigantic Odius from his chariot hurl\u2019d.\nChief of the Halizonians. He to flight\nTurn\u2019d foremost, when the monarch in his spine50\nBetween the shoulder-bones his spear infixt,\nAnd urged it through his breast. Sounding he fell,\nAnd loud his batter\u2019d armor rang around.\nBy brave Idomeneus a Lydian died,\nPh\u00e6stus, from fruitful Tarne sent to Troy,55\nSon of M\u00e6onian Borus; him his steeds\nMounting, Idomeneus the spear-renown\u2019d\nThrough his right shoulder pierced; unwelcome night\nInvolved him; from his chariot down he fell,[4]\nAnd the attendant Cretans stripp\u2019d his arms.60\nBut Menelaus, son of Atreus slew\nWith his bright spear Scamandrius, Stropius\u2019 son,\nA skilful hunter; for Diana him,\nHerself, the slaughter of all savage kinds\nHad taught, on mountain or in forest bred.65\nBut she, shaft-aiming Goddess, in that hour\nAvail\u2019d him not, nor his own matchless skill;\nFor Menelaus, Atreus son spear-famed,\nHim flying wounded in the spine between\nHis shoulders, and the spear urged through his breast.70\nProne on his loud-resounding arms he fell.\nNext, by Meriones, Phereclus died,\nSon of Harmonides. All arts that ask\nA well-instructed hand his sire had learn\u2019d,\nFor Pallas dearly loved him. He the fleet,75\nPrime source of harm to Troy and to himself,\nFor Paris built, unskill\u2019d to spell aright\nThe oracles predictive of the wo.\nPhereclus fled; Meriones his flight\nOutstripping, deep in his posterior flesh80\nA spear infix\u2019d; sliding beneath the bone\nIt grazed his bladder as it pass\u2019d, and stood\nProtruded far before. Low on his knees\nPhereclus sank, and with a shriek expired.\nPed\u00e6us, whom, although his spurious son,85\nAntenor\u2019s wife, to gratify her lord,\nHad cherish\u2019d as her own\u2014him Meges slew.\nWarlike Phylides[5] following close his flight,\nHis keen lance drove into his poll, cut sheer\nHis tongue within, and through his mouth enforced90\nThe glittering point. He, prostrate in the dust,\nThe cold steel press\u2019d between his teeth and died.\nEurypylus, Evemon\u2019s son, the brave\nHypsenor slew; Dolopion was his sire,\nPriest of Scamander, reverenced as a God.95\nIn vain before Eurypylus he fled;\nHe, running, with his falchion lopp\u2019d his arm\nFast by the shoulder; on the field his hand\nFell blood-distained, and destiny severe\nWith shades of death for ever veil\u2019d his eyes.100\nThus strenuous they the toilsome battle waged.\nBut where Tydides fought, whether in aid\nOf Ilium\u2019s host, or on the part of Greece,\nMight none discern. For as a winter-flood\nImpetuous, mounds and bridges sweeps away;[6]105\nThe buttress\u2019d bridge checks not its sudden force,\nThe firm inclosure of vine-planted fields\nLuxuriant, falls before it; finish\u2019d works\nOf youthful hinds, once pleasant to the eye,\nNow levell\u2019d, after ceaseless rain from Jove;110\nSo drove Tydides into sudden flight\nThe Trojans; phalanx after phalanx fled\nBefore the terror of his single arm.\nWhen him Lycaon\u2019s son illustrious saw\nScouring the field, and from before his face115\nThe ranks dispersing wide, at once he bent\nAgainst Tydides his elastic bow.\nThe arrow met him in his swift career\nSure-aim\u2019d; it struck direct the hollow mail\nOf his right shoulder, with resistless force120\nTransfix\u2019d it, and his hauberk stain\u2019d with blood.\nLoud shouted then Lycaon\u2019s son renown\u2019d.\nRush on, ye Trojans, spur your coursers hard.\nOur fiercest foe is wounded, and I deem\nHis death not distant far, if me the King[7]125\nJove\u2019s son, indeed, from Lycia sent to Troy.\nSo boasted Pandarus. Yet him the dart\nQuell\u2019d not. Retreating, at his coursers\u2019 heads\nHe stood, and to the son of Capaneus\nHis charioteer and faithful friend he said.130\nArise, sweet son of Capaneus, dismount,\nAnd from my shoulder draw this bitter shaft.\nHe spake; at once the son of Capaneus\nDescending, by its barb the bitter shaft\nDrew forth; blood spouted through his twisted mail135\nIncontinent, and thus the Hero pray\u2019d.\nUnconquer\u2019d daughter of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d!\nIf ever me, propitious, or my sire\nThou hast in furious fight help\u2019d heretofore,\nNow aid me also. Bring within the reach140\nOf my swift spear, Oh grant me to strike through\nThe warrior who hath check\u2019d my course, and boasts\nThe sun\u2019s bright beams for ever quench\u2019d to me![8]\nHe prayed, and Pallas heard; she braced his limbs,\nShe wing\u2019d him with alacrity divine,145\nAnd, standing at his side, him thus bespake.\nNow Diomede, be bold! Fight now with Troy.\nTo thee, thy father\u2019s spirit I impart\nFearless; shield-shaking Tydeus felt the same.\nI also from thine eye the darkness purge150\nWhich dimm\u2019d thy sight[9] before, that thou may\u2019st know\nBoth Gods and men; should, therefore, other God\nApproach to try thee, fight not with the powers\nImmortal; but if foam-born Venus come,\nHer spare not. Wound her with thy glittering spear.155\nSo spake the blue-eyed Deity, and went,\nThen with the champions in the van again\nTydides mingled; hot before, he fights\nWith threefold fury now, nor less enraged\nThan some gaunt lion whom o\u2019erleaping light160\nThe fold, a shepherd hath but gall\u2019d, not kill\u2019d,\nHim irritating more; thenceforth the swain\nLurks unresisting; flies the abandon\u2019d flock;\nHeaps slain on heaps he leaves, and with a bound\nSurmounting all impediment, escapes;165\nSuch seem\u2019d the valiant Diomede incensed\nTo fury, mingling with the host of Troy.\nAstyno\u00fcs and Hypenor first he slew;\nOne with his brazen lance above the pap\nHe pierced, and one with his huge falchion smote170\nFast by the key-bone,[10] from the neck and spine\nHis parted shoulder driving at a blow.\nThem leaving, Polyides next he sought\nAnd Abas, sons of a dream-dealing seer,\nEurydamas; their hoary father\u2019s dreams175\nOr not interpreted, or kept concealed,\nThem saved not, for by Diomede they died.\nXanthus and Th\u00f6on he encounter\u2019d next,\nBoth sons of Ph\u00e6nops, sons of his old age,\nWho other heir had none of all his wealth,180\nNor hoped another, worn with many years.\nTydides slew them both; nor aught remain\u2019d\nTo the old man but sorrow for his sons\nFor ever lost, and strangers were his heirs.\nTwo sons of Priam in one chariot borne185\nEchemon next, and Chromius felt his hand\nResistless. As a lion on the herd\nLeaping, while they the shrubs and bushes browse,\nBreaks short the neck of heifer or of steer,\nSo them, though clinging fast and loth to fall,190\nTydides hurl\u2019d together to the ground,\nThen stripp\u2019d their splendid armor, and the steeds\nConsigned and chariot to his soldiers\u2019 care.\n\u00c6neas him discern\u2019d scattering the ranks,\nAnd through the battle and the clash of spears195\nWent seeking godlike Pandarus; ere long\nFinding Lycaon\u2019s martial son renown\u2019d,\nHe stood before him, and him thus address\u2019d.\nThy bow, thy feather\u2019d shafts, and glorious name\nWhere are they, Pandarus? whom none of Troy200\nCould equal, whom of Lycia, none excel.\nCome. Lift thine hands to Jove, and at yon Chief\nDispatch an arrow, who afflicts the host\nOf Ilium thus, conquering where\u2019er he flies,\nAnd who hath slaughter\u2019d numerous brave in arms,205\nBut him some Deity I rather deem\nAvenging on us his neglected rites,\nAnd who can stand before an angry God?\nHim answer\u2019d then Lycaon\u2019s son renown\u2019d.\nBrave leader of the Trojans brazen-mail\u2019d,210\n\u00c6neas! By his buckler which I know,\nAnd by his helmet\u2019s height, considering, too\nHis steeds, I deem him Diomede the bold;\nYet such pronounce him not, who seems a God.\nBut if bold Diomede indeed he be215\nOf whom I speak, not without aid from heaven\nHis fury thus prevails, but at his side\nSome God, in clouds enveloped, turns away\nFrom him the arrow to a devious course.\nAlready, at his shoulder\u2019s hollow mail220\nMy shaft hath pierced him through, and him I deem\u2019d\nDismiss\u2019d full sure to Pluto ere his time\nBut he survives; whom therefore I at last\nPerforce conclude some angry Deity.\nSteeds have I none or chariot to ascend,225\nWho have eleven chariots in the stands\nLeft of Lycaon, with fair hangings all\nO\u2019ermantled, strong, new finish\u2019d, with their steeds\nIn pairs beside them, eating winnow\u2019d grain.\nMe much Lycaon my old valiant sire230\nAt my departure from his palace gates\nPersuaded, that my chariot and my steeds\nAscending, I should so conduct my bands\nTo battle; counsel wise, and ill-refused!\nBut anxious, lest (the host in Troy so long235\nImmew\u2019d) my steeds, fed plenteously at home,\nShould here want food, I left them, and on foot\nTo Ilium came, confiding in my bow\nOrdain\u2019d at last to yield me little good.\nTwice have I shot, and twice I struck the mark,240\nFirst Menelaus, and Tydides next;\nFrom each I drew the blood, true, genuine blood,\nYet have but more incensed them. In an hour\nUnfortunate, I therefore took my bow\nDown from the wall that day, when for the sake245\nOf noble Hector, to these pleasant plains\nI came, a leader on the part of Troy.\nBut should I once return, and with these eyes\nAgain behold my native land, my sire,\nMy wife, my stately mansion, may the hand,250\nThat moment, of some adversary there\nShorten me by the head, if I not snap\nThis bow with which I charged myself in vain,\nAnd burn the unprofitable tool to dust.\nTo whom \u00c6neas, Trojan Chief, replied.255\nNay, speak not so. For ere that hour arrive\nWe will, with chariot and with horse, in arms\nEncounter him, and put his strength to proof.\nDelay not, mount my chariot. Thou shalt see\nWith what rapidity the steeds of Troy260\nPursuing or retreating, scour the field.\nIf after all, Jove purpose still to exalt\nThe son of Tydeus, these shall bear us safe\nBack to the city. Come then. Let us on.\nThe lash take thou, and the resplendent reins,265\nWhile I alight for battle, or thyself\nReceive them, and the steeds shall be my care.\nHim answer\u2019d then Lycaon\u2019s son renown\u2019d.\n\u00c6neas! manage thou the reins, and guide\nThy proper steeds. If fly at last we must270\nThe son of Tydeus, they will readier draw\nDirected by their wonted charioteer.\nElse, terrified, and missing thy control,\nThey may refuse to bear us from the fight,\nAnd Tydeus\u2019 son assailing us, with ease275\nShall slay us both, and drive thy steeds away.\nRule therefore thou the chariot, and myself\nWith my sharp spear will his assault receive.\nSo saying, they mounted both, and furious drove\nAgainst Tydides. Them the noble son280\nOf Capaneus observed, and turning quick\nHis speech to Diomede, him thus address\u2019d.\nTydides, Diomede, my heart\u2019s delight!\nTwo warriors of immeasurable force\nIn battle, ardent to contend with thee,285\nCome rattling on. Lycaon\u2019s offspring one,\nBow-practised Pandarus; with whom appears\n\u00c6neas; he who calls the mighty Chief\nAnchises father, and whom Venus bore.\nMount\u2014drive we swift away\u2014lest borne so far290\nBeyond the foremost battle, thou be slain.\nTo whom, dark-frowning, Diomede replied\nSpeak not of flight to me, who am disposed\nTo no such course. I am ashamed to fly\nOr tremble, and my strength is still entire;295\nI cannot mount. No. Rather thus, on foot,\nI will advance against them. Fear and dread\nAre not for me; Pallas forbids the thought.\nOne falls, be sure; swift as they are, the steeds\nThat whirl them on, shall never rescue both.300\nBut hear my bidding, and hold fast the word.\nShould all-wise Pallas grant me my desire\nTo slay them both, drive not my coursers hence,\nBut hook the reins, and seizing quick the pair\nThat draw \u00c6neas, urge them from the powers305\nOf Troy away into the host of Greece.\nFor they are sprung from those which Jove to Tros\nIn compensation gave for Ganymede;\nThe Sun himself sees not their like below.\nAnchises, King of men, clandestine them310\nObtain\u2019d, his mares submitting to the steeds\nOf King Laomedon. Six brought him foals;\nFour to himself reserving, in his stalls\nHe fed them sleek, and two he gave his son:\nThese, might we win them, were a noble prize.315\nThus mutual they conferr\u2019d; those Chiefs, the while,\nWith swiftest pace approach\u2019d, and first his speech\nTo Diomede Lycaon\u2019s son address\u2019d.\nHeroic offspring of a noble sire,\nBrave son of Tydeus! false to my intent320\nMy shaft hath harm\u2019d thee little. I will now\nMake trial with my spear, if that may speed.\nHe said, and shaking his long-shadow\u2019d spear,\nDismiss\u2019d it. Forceful on the shield it struck\nOf Diomede, transpierced it, and approach\u2019d325\nWith threatening point the hauberk on his breast.\nLoud shouted Pandarus\u2014Ah nobly thrown!\nHome to thy bowels. Die, for die thou must,\nAnd all the glory of thy death is mine.\nThen answer thus brave Diomede return\u2019d330\nUndaunted. I am whole. Thy cast was short.\nBut ye desist not, as I plain perceive,\nTill one at least extended on the plain\nShall sate the God of battles with his blood.\nHe said and threw. Pallas the spear herself335\nDirected; at his eye fast by the nose\nDeep-entering, through his ivory teeth it pass\u2019d,\nAt its extremity divided sheer\nHis tongue, and started through his chin below.\nHe headlong fell, and with his dazzling arms340\nSmote full the plain. Back flew the fiery steeds\nWith swift recoil, and where he fell he died.\nThen sprang \u00c6neas forth with spear and shield,\nThat none might drag the body;[11] lion-like\nHe stalk\u2019d around it, oval shield and spear345\nAdvancing firm, and with incessant cries\nTerrific, death denouncing on his foes.\nBut Diomede with hollow grasp a stone\nEnormous seized, a weight to overtask\nTwo strongest men of such as now are strong,350\nYet he, alone, wielded the rock with ease.\nFull on the hip he smote him, where the thigh\nRolls in its cavity, the socket named.\nHe crushed the socket, lacerated wide\nBoth tendons, and with that rough-angled mass355\nFlay\u2019d all his flesh, The Hero on his knees\nSank, on his ample palm his weight upbore\nLaboring, and darkness overspread his eyes.\nThere had \u00c6neas perish\u2019d, King of men,\nHad not Jove\u2019s daughter Venus quick perceived360\nHis peril imminent, whom she had borne\nHerself to Anchises pasturing his herds.\nHer snowy arras her darling son around\nShe threw maternal, and behind a fold\nOf her bright mantle screening close his breast365\nFrom mortal harm by some brave Grecian\u2019s spear,\nStole him with eager swiftness from the fight.\nNor then forgat brave Sthenelus his charge\nReceived from Diomede, but his own steeds\nDetaining distant from the boisterous war,370\nStretch\u2019d tight the reins, and hook\u2019d them fast behind.\nThe coursers of \u00c6neas next he seized\nArdent, and them into the host of Greece\nDriving remote, consign\u2019d them to his care,\nWhom far above all others his compeers375\nHe loved, Deipylus, his bosom friend\nCongenial. Him he charged to drive them thence\nInto the fleet, then, mounting swift his own,\nLash\u2019d after Diomede; he, fierce in arms,\nPursued the Cyprian Goddess, conscious whom,380\nNot Pallas, not Enyo, waster dread\nOf cities close-beleaguer\u2019d, none of all\nWho o\u2019er the battle\u2019s bloody course preside,\nBut one of softer kind and prone to fear.\nWhen, therefore, her at length, after long chase385\nThrough all the warring multitude he reach\u2019d,\nWith his protruded spear her gentle hand\nHe wounded, piercing through her thin attire\nAmbrosial, by themselves the graces wrought,\nHer inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm.390\nBlood follow\u2019d, but immortal; ichor pure,\nSuch as the blest inhabitants of heaven\nMay bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not\nMan\u2019s food, nor slake as he with sable wine\nTheir thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt.395\nShe, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son,\nAnd Ph\u0153bus, in impenetrable clouds\nHim hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek\nShould pierce his bosom, caught him swift away.\nThen shouted brave Tydides after her\u2014400\nDepart, Jove\u2019s daughter! fly the bloody field.\nIs\u2019t not enough that thou beguilest the hearts\nOf feeble women? If thou dare intrude\nAgain into the war, war\u2019s very name\nShall make thee shudder, wheresoever heard.405\nHe said, and Venus with excess of pain\nBewilder\u2019d went; but Iris tempest-wing\u2019d\nForth led her through the multitude, oppress\u2019d\nWith anguish, her white wrist to livid changed.\nThey came where Mars far on the left retired410\nOf battle sat, his horses and his spear\nIn darkness veil\u2019d. Before her brother\u2019s knees\nShe fell, and with entreaties urgent sought\nThe succor of his coursers golden-rein\u2019d.\nSave me, my brother! Pity me! Thy steeds415\nGive me, that they may bear me to the heights\nOlympian, seat of the immortal Gods!\nOh! I am wounded deep; a mortal man\nHath done it, Diomede; nor would he fear\nThis day in fight the Sire himself of all.420\nThen Mars his coursers gold-caparison\u2019d\nResign\u2019d to Venus; she, with countenance sad,\nThe chariot climb\u2019d, and Iris at her side\nThe bright reins seizing lash\u2019d the ready steeds.\nSoon as the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods,425\nThey reach\u2019d, wing-footed Iris loosing quick\nThe coursers, gave them large whereon to browse\nAmbrosial food; but Venus on the knees\nSank of Dione, who with folded arms\nMaternal, to her bosom straining close430\nHer daughter, stroked her cheek, and thus inquired.\nMy darling child! who? which of all the Gods\nHath rashly done such violence to thee\nAs if convicted of some open wrong?\nHer then the Goddess of love-kindling smiles435\nVenus thus answer\u2019d; Diomede the proud,\nAudacious Diomede; he gave the wound,\nFor that I stole \u00c6neas from the fight\nMy son of all mankind my most beloved;\nNor is it now the war of Greece with Troy,440\nBut of the Grecians with the Gods themselves.\nThen thus Dione, Goddess all divine.\nMy child! how hard soe\u2019er thy sufferings seem\nEndure them patiently. Full many a wrong\nFrom human hands profane the Gods endure,445\nAnd many a painful stroke, mankind from ours.\nMars once endured much wrong, when on a time\nHim Otus bound and Ephialtes fast,\nSons of Al\u00f6eus, and full thirteen moons\nIn brazen thraldom held him. There, at length,450\nThe fierce blood-nourished Mars had pined away,\nBut that E\u00ebrib\u0153a, loveliest nymph,\nHis step-mother, in happy hour disclosed\nTo Mercury the story of his wrongs;\nHe stole the prisoner forth, but with his woes455\nAlready worn, languid and fetter-gall\u2019d.\nNor Juno less endured, when erst the bold\nSon of Amphytrion with tridental shaft\nHer bosom pierced; she then the misery felt\nOf irremediable pain severe.460\nNor suffer\u2019d Pluto less, of all the Gods\nGigantic most, by the same son of Jove\nAlcides, at the portals of the dead\nTransfix\u2019d and fill\u2019d with anguish; he the house\nOf Jove and the Olympian summit sought465\nDejected, torture-stung, for sore the shaft\nOppress\u2019d him, into his huge shoulder driven.\nBut P\u00e6on[12] him not liable to death\nWith unction smooth of salutiferous balms\nHeal\u2019d soon. Presumptuous, sacrilegious man!470\nCareless what dire enormities he wrought,\nWho bent his bow against the powers of heaven!\nBut blue-eyed Pallas instigated him\nBy whom thou bleed\u2019st. Infatuate! he forgets\nThat whoso turns against the Gods his arm475\nLives never long; he never, safe escaped\nFrom furious fight, the lisp\u2019d caresses hears\nOf his own infants prattling at his knees.\nLet therefore Diomede beware, lest strong\nAnd valiant as he is, he chance to meet490\nSome mightier foe than thou, and lest his wife,\nDaughter of King Adrastus, the discrete\n\u00c6gialea, from portentous dreams\nUpstarting, call her family to wail\nHer first-espoused, Achaia\u2019s proudest boast,485\nDiomede, whom she must behold no more.\nShe said, and from her wrist with both hands wiped\nThe trickling ichor; the effectual touch\nDivine chased all her pains, and she was heal\u2019d.\nThem Juno mark\u2019d and Pallas, and with speech490\nSarcastic pointed at Saturnian Jove\nTo vex him, blue-eyed Pallas thus began.\nEternal father! may I speak my thought,\nAnd not incense thee, Jove? I can but judge\nThat Venus, while she coax\u2019d some Grecian fair495\nTo accompany the Trojans whom she loves\nWith such extravagance, hath heedless stroked\nHer golden clasps, and scratch\u2019d her lily hand.\nSo she; then smiled the sire of Gods and men,\nAnd calling golden Venus, her bespake.500\nWar and the tented field, my beauteous child,\nAre not for thee. Thou rather shouldst be found\nIn scenes of matrimonial bliss. The toils\nOf war to Pallas and to Mars belong.\nThus they in heaven. But Diomede the while505\nSprang on \u00c6neas, conscious of the God\nWhose hand o\u2019ershadow\u2019d him, yet even him\nRegarding lightly; for he burn\u2019d to slay\n\u00c6neas, and to seize his glorious arms.\nThrice then he sprang impetuous to the deed,510\nAnd thrice Apollo with his radiant shield\nRepulsed him. But when ardent as a God\nThe fourth time he advanced, with thundering-voice\nHim thus the Archer of the skies rebuked.\nThink, and retire, Tydides! nor affect515\nEquality with Gods; for not the same\nOur nature is and theirs who tread the ground.\nHe spake, and Diomede a step retired,\nNot more; the anger of the Archer-God\nDeclining slow, and with a sullen awe.520\nThen Ph\u0153bus, far from all the warrior throng\nTo his own shrine the sacred dome beneath\nOf Pergamus, \u00c6neas bore; there him\nLatona and shaft-arm\u2019d Diana heal\u2019d\nAnd glorified within their spacious fane.525\nMeantime the Archer of the silver bow\nA visionary form prepared; it seem\u2019d\nHimself \u00c6neas, and was arm\u2019d as he.\nAt once, in contest for that airy form,\nGrecians and Trojans on each other\u2019s breasts530\nThe bull-hide buckler batter\u2019d and light targe.\nThen thus Apollo to the warrior God.\nGore-tainted homicide, town-batterer Mars!\nWilt thou not meet and from the fight withdraw\nThis man Tydides, now so fiery grown535\nThat he would even cope with Jove himself?\nFirst Venus\u2019 hand he wounded, and assail\u2019d\nImpetuous as a God, next, even me.\nHe ceased, and on the topmost turret sat\nOf Pergamus. Then all-destroyer Mars540\nRanging the Trojan host, rank after rank\nExhorted loud, and in the form assumed\nOf Acamas the Thracian leader bold,\nThe godlike sons of Priam thus harangued.\nYe sons of Priam, monarch Jove-beloved!545\nHow long permit ye your Achaian foes\nTo slay the people?\u2014till the battle rage\n(Push\u2019d home to Ilium) at her solid gates?\nBehold\u2014a Chief disabled lies, than whom\nWe reverence not even Hector more,550\n\u00c6neas; fly, save from the roaring storm\nThe noble Anchisiades your friend.\nHe said; then every heart for battle glow\u2019d;\nAnd thus Sarpedon with rebuke severe\nUpbraiding generous Hector, stern began.555\nWhere is thy courage, Hector? for thou once\nHadst courage. Is it fled? In other days\nThy boast hath been that without native troops\nOr foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself\nAlone, were guard sufficient for the town.560\nBut none of all thy kindred now appears;\nI can discover none; they stand aloof\nQuaking, as dogs that hear the lion\u2019s roar.\nWe bear the stress, who are but Troy\u2019s allies;\nMyself am such, and from afar I came;565\nFor Lycia lies far distant on the banks\nOf the deep-eddied Xanthus. There a wife\nI left and infant son, both dear to me,\nWith plenteous wealth, the wish of all who want.\nYet urge I still my Lycians, and am prompt570\nMyself to fight, although possessing here\nNought that the Greeks can carry or drive hence.\nBut there stand\u2019st thou, neither employed thyself,\nNor moving others to an active part\nFor all their dearest pledges. Oh beware!575\nLest, as with meshes of an ample net,\nAt one huge draught the Grecians sweep you all,\nAnd desolate at once your populous Troy!\nBy day, by night, thoughts such as these should still\nThy conduct influence, and from Chief to Chief580\nOf the allies should send thee, praying each\nTo make firm stand, all bickerings put away.\nSo spake Sarpedon, and his reprimand\nStung Hector; instant to the ground he leap\u2019d\nAll arm\u2019d, and shaking his bright spears his host585\nRanged in all quarters animating loud\nHis legions, and rekindling horrid war.\nThen, rolling back, the powers of Troy opposed\nOnce more the Grecians, whom the Grecians dense\nExpected, unretreating, void of fear.590\nAs flies the chaff wide scatter\u2019d by the wind\nO\u2019er all the consecrated floor, what time\nRipe Ceres[13] with brisk airs her golden grain\nVentilates, whitening with its husk the ground;\nSo grew the Achaians white, a dusty cloud595\nDescending on their arms, which steeds with steeds\nAgain to battle mingling, with their hoofs\nUp-stamp\u2019d into the brazen vault of heaven;\nFor now the charioteers turn\u2019d all to fight.\nHost toward host with full collected force600\nThey moved direct. Then Mars through all the field\nTook wide his range, and overhung the war\nWith night, in aid of Troy, at the command\nOf Ph\u0153bus of the golden sword; for he\nPerceiving Pallas from the field withdrawn,605\nPatroness of the Greeks, had Mars enjoin\u2019d\nTo rouse the spirit of the Trojan host.\nMeantime Apollo from his unctuous shrine\nSent forth restored and with new force inspired\n\u00c6neas. He amidst his warriors stood,610\nWho him with joy beheld still living, heal\u2019d,\nAnd all his strength possessing unimpair\u2019d.\nYet no man ask\u2019d him aught. No leisure now\nFor question was; far other thoughts had they;\nSuch toils the archer of the silver bow,615\nWide-slaughtering Mars, and Discord as at first\nRaging implacable, for them prepared.\nUlysses, either Ajax, Diomede\u2014\nThese roused the Greeks to battle, who themselves\nThe force fear\u2019d nothing, or the shouts of Troy,620\nBut steadfast stood, like clouds by Jove amass\u2019d\nOn lofty mountains, while the fury sleeps\nOf Boreas, and of all the stormy winds\nShrill-voiced, that chase the vapors when they blow,\nSo stood the Greeks, expecting firm the approach625\nOf Ilium\u2019s powers, and neither fled nor fear\u2019d.\nThen Agamemnon the embattled host\nOn all sides ranging, cheer\u2019d them. Now, he cried,\nBe steadfast, fellow warriors, now be men!\nHold fast a sense of honor. More escape630\nOf men who fear disgrace, than fall in fight,\nWhile dastards forfeit life and glory both.\nHe said, and hurl\u2019d his spear. He pierced a friend\nOf brave \u00c6neas, warring in the van,\nDeic\u00f6on son of Pergasus, in Troy635\nNot less esteem\u2019d than Priam\u2019s sons themselves,\nSuch was his fame in foremost fight acquired.\nHim Agamemnon on his buckler smote,\nNor stayed the weapon there, but through his belt\nHis bowels enter\u2019d, and with hideous clang640\nAnd outcry[14] of his batter\u2019d arms he fell.\n\u00c6neas next two mightiest warriors slew,\nSons of Diocles, of a wealthy sire,\nWhose house magnificent in Ph\u00e6r\u00e6 stood,\nOrsilochus and Crethon. Their descent645\nFrom broad-stream\u2019d Alpheus, Pylian flood, they drew.\nAlpheus begat Orsilochus, a prince\nOf numerous powers. Orsilochus begat\nWarlike Diodes. From Diodes sprang\nTwins, Crethon and Orsilochus, alike650\nValiant, and skilful in all forms of war.\nTheir boyish prime scarce past, they, with the Greeks\nEmbarking, in their sable ships had sail\u2019d\nTo steed-fam\u2019d Ilium; just revenge they sought\nFor Atreus\u2019 sons, but perished first themselves.655\nAs two young lions, in the deep recess\nOf some dark forest on the mountain\u2019s brow\nLate nourished by their dam, forth-issuing, seize\nThe fatted flocks and kine, both folds and stalls\nWasting rapacious, till, at length, themselves660\nDeep-wounded perish by the hand of man,\nSo they, both vanquish\u2019d by \u00c6neas, fell,\nAnd like two lofty pines uprooted, lay.\nThem fallen in battle Menelaus saw\nWith pity moved; radiant in arms he shook665\nHis brazen spear, and strode into the van.\nMars urged him furious on, conceiving hope\nOf his death also by \u00c6neas\u2019 hand.\nBut him the son of generous Nestor mark\u2019d\nAntilochus, and to the foremost fight670\nFlew also, fearing lest some dire mischance\nThe Prince befalling, at one fatal stroke\nShould frustrate all the labors of the Greeks.\nThey, hand to hand, and spear to spear opposed,\nStood threatening dreadful onset, when beside675\nThe Spartan chief Antilochus appear\u2019d.\n\u00c6neas, at the sight of two combined,\nStood not, although intrepid. They the dead\nThence drawing far into the Grecian host\nTo their associates gave the hapless pair,680\nThen, both returning, fought in front again.\nNext, fierce as Mars, Pyl\u00e6menes they slew,\nPrince of the shielded band magnanimous\nOf Paphlagonia. Him Atrides kill\u2019d\nSpear-practised Menelaus, with a lance685\nHis throat transpiercing while erect he rode.\nThen, while his charioteer, Mydon the brave,\nSon of Atymnias, turn\u2019d his steeds to flight,\nFull on his elbow-point Antilochus,\nThe son of Nestor, dash\u2019d him with a stone.690\nThe slack reins, white as ivory,[15] forsook\nHis torpid hand and trail\u2019d the dust. At once\nForth sprang Antilochus, and with his sword\nHew\u2019d deep his temples. On his head he pitch\u2019d\nPanting, and on his shoulders in the sand695\n(For in deep sand he fell) stood long erect,\nTill his own coursers spread him in the dust;\nThe son of Nestor seized, and with his scourge\nDrove them afar into the host of Greece.\nThem Hector through the ranks espying, flew700\nWith clamor loud to meet them; after whom\nAdvanced in phalanx firm the powers of Troy,\nMars led them, with Enyo terror-clad;\nShe by the maddening tumult of the fight\nAttended, he, with his enormous spear705\nin both hands brandish\u2019d, stalking now in front\nOf Hector, and now following his steps.\nHim Diomede the bold discerning, felt\nHimself no small dismay; and as a man\nWandering he knows not whither, far from home,710\nIf chance a rapid torrent to the sea\nBorne headlong thwart his course, the foaming flood\nObstreperous views awhile, then quick retires,\nSo he, and his attendants thus bespake.\nHow oft, my countrymen! have we admired715\nThe noble Hector, skillful at the spear\nAnd unappall\u2019d in fight? but still hath he\nSome God his guard, and even now I view\nIn human form Mars moving at his side.\nYe, then, with faces to the Trojans turn\u2019d,720\nCeaseless retire, and war not with the Gods.\nHe ended; and the Trojans now approach\u2019d.\nThen two bold warriors in one chariot borne,\nBy valiant Hector died, Menesthes one,\nAnd one, Anchialus. Them fallen in fight725\nAjax the vast, touch\u2019d with compassion saw;\nWithin small space he stood, his glittering spear\nDismiss\u2019d, and pierced Amphius. Son was he\nOf Selagus, and P\u00e6sus was his home,\nWhere opulent he dwelt, but by his fate730\nWas led to fight for Priam and his sons.\nHim Telamonian Ajax through his belt\nWounded, and in his nether bowels deep\nFix\u2019d his long-shadow\u2019d spear. Sounding he fell.\nIllustrious Ajax running to the slain735\nPrepared to strip his arms, but him a shower\nOf glittering-weapons keen from Trojan hands\nAssail\u2019d, and numerous his broad shield received.\nHe, on the body planting firm his heel,\nForth drew the polish\u2019d spear, but his bright arms740\nTook not, by darts thick-flying sore annoy\u2019d,\nNor fear\u2019d he little lest his haughty foes,\nSpear-arm\u2019d and bold, should compass him around;\nHim, therefore, valiant though he were and huge,\nThey push\u2019d before them. Staggering he retired.745\nThus toil\u2019d both hosts in that laborious field.\nAnd now his ruthless destiny impell\u2019d\nTlepolemus, Alcides\u2019 son, a Chief\nDauntless and huge, against a godlike foe\nSarpedon. They approaching face to face750\nStood, son and grandson of high-thundering Jove,\nAnd, haughty, thus Tlepolemus began.\nSarpedon, leader of the Lycian host,\nThou trembler! thee what cause could hither urge\nA man unskill\u2019d in arms? They falsely speak755\nWho call thee son of \u00c6gis-bearing Jove,\nSo far below their might thou fall\u2019st who sprang\nFrom Jove in days of old. What says report\nOf Hercules (for him I boast my sire)\nAll-daring hero with a lion\u2019s heart?760\nWith six ships only, and with followers few,\nHe for the horses of Laomedon\nLay\u2019d Troy in dust, and widow\u2019d all her streets.\nBut thou art base, and thy diminish\u2019d powers\nPerish around thee; think not that thou earnest765\nFor Ilium\u2019s good, but rather, whatsoe\u2019er\nThy force in fight, to find, subdued by me,\nA sure dismission to the gates of hell.\nTo whom the leader of the Lycian band.\nTlepolemus! he ransack\u2019d sacred Troy,770\nAs thou hast said, but for her monarch\u2019s fault\nLaomedon, who him with language harsh\nRequited ill for benefits received,\nNor would the steeds surrender, seeking which\nHe voyaged from afar. But thou shalt take775\nThy bloody doom from this victorious arm,\nAnd, vanquish\u2019d by my spear, shalt yield thy fame\nTo me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown\u2019d.\nSo spake Sarpedon, and his ashen beam\nTlepolemus upraised. Both hurl\u2019d at once780\nTheir quivering spears. Sarpedon\u2019s through the neck\nPass\u2019d of Tlepolemus, and show\u2019d beyond\nIts ruthless point; thick darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nTlepolemus with his long lance the thigh\nPierced of Sarpedon; sheer into his bone785\nHe pierced him, but Sarpedon\u2019s father, Jove,\nHim rescued even on the verge of fate.\nHis noble friends conducted from the field\nThe godlike Lycian, trailing as he went\nThe pendent spear, none thinking to extract790\nFor his relief the weapon from his thigh,\nThrough eagerness of haste to bear him thence.\nOn the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail\u2019d\nBore off Tlepolemus. Ulysses fill\u2019d\nWith earnest thoughts tumultuous them observed,795\nDanger-defying Chief! Doubtful he stood\nOr to pursue at once the Thunderer\u2019s son\nSarpedon, or to take more Lycian lives.\nBut not for brave Ulysses had his fate\nThat praise reserved, that he should slay the son800\nRenown\u2019d of Jove; therefore his wavering mind\nMinerva bent against the Lycian band.\nThen C\u0153ranus, Alastor, Chromius fell,\nAlcander, Halius, Prytanis, and brave\nNo\u00ebmon; nor had these sufficed the Chief805\nOf Ithaca, but Lycians more had fallen,\nHad not crest-tossing Hector huge perceived\nThe havoc; radiant to the van he flew,\nFilling with dread the Grecians; his approach\nSarpedon, son of Jove, joyful beheld,810\nAnd piteous thus address\u2019d him as he came.\nAh, leave not me, Priamides! a prey\nTo Grecian hands, but in your city, at least,\nGrant me to die: since hither, doom\u2019d, I came\nNever to gratify with my return815\nTo Lycia, my loved spouse, or infant child.\nHe spake; but Hector unreplying pass\u2019d\nImpetuous, ardent to repulse the Greeks\nThat moment, and to drench his sword in blood.\nThen, under shelter of a spreading beech820\nSacred to Jove, his noble followers placed\nThe godlike Chief Sarpedon, where his friend\nIllustrious Pelagon, the ashen spear\nExtracted. Sightless, of all thought bereft,\nHe sank, but soon revived, by breathing airs825\nRefresh\u2019d, that fann\u2019d him gently from the North.\nMeantime the Argives, although press\u2019d alike\nBy Mars himself and Hector brazen-arm\u2019d,\nNeither to flight inclined, nor yet advanced\nTo battle, but inform\u2019d that Mars the fight830\nWaged on the side of Ilium, slow retired.[16]\nWhom first, whom last slew then the mighty son\nOf Priam, Hector, and the brazen Mars!\nFirst godlike Teuthras, an equestrian Chief,\nOrestes, Trechus of \u00c6tolian race,835\n\u0152noma\u00fcs, Helenus from \u0152nops\u2019 sprung,\nAnd brisk[17] in fight Oresbius; rich was he,\nAnd covetous of more; in Hyla dwelt\nFast by the lake Cephissus, where abode\nB\u0153otian Princes numerous, rich themselves840\nAnd rulers of a people wealth-renown\u2019d.\nBut Juno, such dread slaughter of the Greeks\nNoting, thus, ardent, to Minerva spake.\nDaughter of Jove invincible! Our word\nThat Troy shall perish, hath been given in vain845\nTo Menelaus, if we suffer Mars\nTo ravage longer uncontrol\u2019d. The time\nUrges, and need appears that we ourselves\nNow call to mind the fury of our might.\nShe spake; nor blue-eyed Pallas not complied.850\nThen Juno, Goddess dread, from Saturn sprung,\nHer coursers gold-caparison\u2019d prepared\nImpatient. Hebe to the chariot roll\u2019d\nThe brazen wheels,[18] and joined them to the smooth\nSteel axle; twice four spokes divided each855\nShot from the centre to the verge. The verge\nWas gold by fellies of eternal brass\nGuarded, a dazzling show! The shining naves\nWere silver; silver cords and cords of gold\nThe seat upbore; two crescents[19] blazed in front.860\nThe pole was argent all, to which she bound\nThe golden yoke, and in their place disposed\nThe breast-bands incorruptible of gold;\nBut Juno to the yoke, herself, the steeds\nLed forth, on fire to reach the dreadful field.865\nMeantime, Minerva, progeny of Jove,\nOn the adamantine floor of his abode\nLet fall profuse her variegated robe,\nLabor of her own hands. She first put on\nThe corselet of the cloud-assembler God,870\nThen arm\u2019d her for the field of wo complete.\nShe charged her shoulder with the dreadful shield\nThe shaggy \u00c6gis,[20] border\u2019d thick around\nWith terror; there was Discord, Prowess there,\nThere hot Pursuit, and there the feature grim875\nOf Gorgon, dire Deformity, a sign\nOft borne portentous on the arm of Jove.\nHer golden helm, whose concave had sufficed\nThe legions of an hundred cities, rough\nWith warlike ornament superb, she fix\u2019d880\nOn her immortal head. Thus arm\u2019d, she rose\nInto the flaming chariot, and her spear\nSeized ponderous, huge, with which the Goddess sprung\nFrom an Almighty father, levels ranks\nOf heroes, against whom her anger burns.885\nJuno with lifted lash urged quick the steeds;\nAt her approach, spontaneous roar\u2019d the wide-\nUnfolding gates of heaven;[21] the heavenly gates\nKept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge\nOf the Olympian summit appertains,890\nAnd of the boundless ether, back to roll,\nAnd to replace the cloudy barrier dense.\nSpurr\u2019d through the portal flew the rapid steeds;\nApart from all, and seated on the point\nSuperior of the cloven mount, they found895\nThe Thunderer. Juno the white-arm\u2019d her steeds\nThere stay\u2019d, and thus the Goddess, ere she pass\u2019d,\nQuestion\u2019d the son of Saturn, Jove supreme.\nJove, Father, seest thou, and art not incensed,\nThese ravages of Mars? Oh what a field,900\nDrench\u2019d with what Grecian blood! All rashly spilt,\nAnd in despite of me. Venus, the while,\nSits, and the Archer of the silver bow\nDelighted, and have urged, themselves, to this\nThe frantic Mars within no bounds confined905\nOf law or order. But, eternal sire!\nShall I offend thee chasing far away\nMars deeply smitten from the field of war?\nTo whom the cloud-assembler God replied.\nGo! but exhort thou rather to the task910\nSpoil-huntress Athen\u00e6an Pallas, him\nAccustom\u2019d to chastise with pain severe.\nHe spake, nor white-arm\u2019d Juno not obey\u2019d.\nShe lash\u2019d her steeds; they readily their flight\nBegan, the earth and starry vault between.915\nFar as from his high tower the watchman kens\nO\u2019er gloomy ocean, so far at one bound\nAdvance the shrill-voiced coursers of the Gods.\nBut when at Troy and at the confluent streams\nOf Simo\u00efs and Scamander they arrived,920\nThere Juno, white-arm\u2019d Goddess, from the yoke\nHer steeds releasing, them in gather\u2019d shades\nConceal\u2019d opaque, while Simo\u00efs caused to spring\nAmbrosia from his bank, whereon they browsed.\nSwift as her pinions waft the dove away925\nThey sought the Grecians, ardent to begin:\nArriving where the mightiest and the most\nCompass\u2019d equestrian Diomede around,\nIn aspect lion-like, or like wild boars\nOf matchless force, there white-arm\u2019d Juno stood,930\nAnd in the form of Stentor for his voice\nOf brass renown\u2019d, audible as the roar\nOf fifty throats, the Grecians thus harangued.\nOh shame, shame, shame! Argives in form alone,\nBeautiful but dishonorable race!935\nWhile yet divine Achilles ranged the field,\nNo Trojan stepp\u2019d from yon Dardanian gates\nAbroad; all trembled at his stormy spear;\nBut now they venture forth, now at your ships\nDefy you, from their city far remote.940\nShe ceased, and all caught courage from the sound.\nBut Athen\u00e6an Pallas eager sought\nThe son of Tydeus; at his chariot side\nShe found the Chief cooling his fiery wound\nReceived from Pandarus; for him the sweat945\nBeneath the broad band of his oval shield\nExhausted, and his arm fail\u2019d him fatigued;\nHe therefore raised the band and wiped the blood\nCoagulate; when o\u2019er his chariot yoke\nHer arm the Goddess threw, and thus began.950\nTydeus, in truth, begat a son himself\nNot much resembling. Tydeus was of size\nDiminutive, but had a warrior\u2019s heart.\nWhen him I once commanded to abstain\nFrom furious fight (what time he enter\u2019d Thebes955\nAmbassador, and the Cadmeans found\nFeasting, himself the sole Achaian there)\nAnd bade him quietly partake the feast.\nHe, fired with wonted ardor, challenged forth\nTo proof of manhood the Cadmean youth,960\nWhom easily, through my effectual aid,\nIn contests of each kind he overcame.\nBut thou, whom I encircle with my power,\nGuard vigilant, and even bid thee forth\nTo combat with the Trojans, thou, thy limbs965\nFeel\u2019st wearied with the toils of war, or worse,\nIndulgest womanish and heartless fear.\nHenceforth thou art not worthy to be deem\u2019d\nSon of Oenides, Tydeus famed in arms.\nTo whom thus valiant Diomede replied.970\nI know thee well, oh Goddess sprung from Jove!\nAnd therefore willing shall, and plain, reply.\nMe neither weariness nor heartless fear\nRestrains, but thine injunctions which impress\nMy memory, still, that I should fear to oppose975\nThe blessed Gods in fight, Venus except,\nWhom in the battle found thou badest me pierce\nWith unrelenting spear; therefore myself\nRetiring hither, I have hither call\u2019d\nThe other Argives also, for I know980\nThat Mars, himself in arms, controls the war.\nHim answer\u2019d then the Goddess azure-eyed.\nTydides! Diomede, my heart\u2019s delight!\nFear not this Mars,[22] nor fear thou other power\nImmortal, but be confident in me.985\nArise. Drive forth. Seek Mars; him only seek;\nHim hand to hand engage; this fiery Mars\nRespect not aught, base implement of wrong\nAnd mischief, shifting still from side to side.\nHe promised Juno lately and myself990\nThat he would fight for Greece, yet now forgets\nHis promise, and gives all his aid to Troy.\nSo saying, she backward by his hand withdrew\nThe son of Capaneus, who to the ground\nLeap\u2019d instant; she, impatient to his place995\nAscending, sat beside brave Diomede.\nLoud groan\u2019d the beechen axle, under weight\nUnwonted, for it bore into the fight\nAn awful Goddess, and the chief of men.\nQuick-seizing lash and reins Minerva drove1000\nDirect at Mars. That moment he had slain\nPeriphas, bravest of \u00c6tolia\u2019s sons,\nAnd huge of bulk; Ochesius was his sire.\nHim Mars the slaughterer had of life bereft\nNewly, and Pallas to elude his sight1005\nThe helmet fixed of Ades on her head.[23]\nSoon as gore-tainted Mars the approach perceived\nOf Diomede, he left the giant length\nOf Periphas extended where he died,\nAnd flew to cope with Tydeus\u2019 valiant son.1010\nFull nigh they came, when Mars on fire to slay\nThe hero, foremost with his brazen lance\nAssail\u2019d him, hurling o\u2019er his horses\u2019 heads.\nBut Athen\u00e6an Pallas in her hand\nThe flying weapon caught and turn\u2019d it wide,1015\nBaffling his aim. Then Diomede on him\nRush\u2019d furious in his turn, and Pallas plunged\nThe bright spear deep into his cinctured waist\nDire was the wound, and plucking back the spear\nShe tore him. Bellow\u2019d brazen-throated Mars1020\nLoud as nine thousand warriors, or as ten\nJoin\u2019d in close combat. Grecians, Trojans shook\nAppall\u2019d alike at the tremendous voice\nOf Mars insatiable with deeds of blood.\nSuch as the dimness is when summer winds1025\nBreathe hot, and sultry mist obscures the sky,\nSuch brazen Mars to Diomede appear\u2019d\nBy clouds accompanied in his ascent\nInto the boundless ether. Reaching soon\nThe Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, he sat1030\nBeside Saturnian Jove; wo fill\u2019d his heart;\nHe show\u2019d fast-streaming from the wound his blood\nImmortal, and impatient thus complain\u2019d.\nJove, Father! Seest thou these outrageous acts\nUnmoved with anger? Such are day by day1035\nThe dreadful mischiefs by the Gods contrived\nAgainst each other, for the sake of man.\nThou art thyself the cause. Thou hast produced\nA foolish daughter petulant, addict\nTo evil only and injurious deeds;1040\nThere is not in Olympus, save herself,\nWho feels not thy control; but she her will\nGratifies ever, and reproof from thee\nFinds none, because, pernicious as she is,\nShe is thy daughter. She hath now the mind1045\nOf haughty Diomede with madness fill\u2019d\nAgainst the immortal Gods; first Venus bled;\nHer hand he pierced impetuous, then assail\u2019d,\nAs if himself immortal, even me,\nBut me my feet stole thence, or overwhelm\u2019d1050\nBeneath yon heaps of carcases impure,\nWhat had I not sustain\u2019d? And if at last\nI lived, had halted crippled by the sword.\nTo whom with dark displeasure Jove replied.\nBase and side-shifting traitor! vex not me1055\nHere sitting querulous; of all who dwell\nOn the Olympian heights, thee most I hate\nContentious, whose delight is war alone.\nThou hast thy mother\u2019s moods, the very spleen\nOf Juno, uncontrolable as she.1060\nWhom even I, reprove her as I may,\nScarce rule by mere commands; I therefore judge\nThy sufferings a contrivance all her own.\nBut soft. Thou art my son whom I begat.\nAnd Juno bare thee. I can not endure1065\nThat thou shouldst suffer long. Hadst thou been born\nOf other parents thus detestable,\nWhat Deity soe\u2019er had brought thee forth,\nThou shouldst have found long since a humbler sphere.\nHe ceased, and to the care his son consign\u2019d1070\nOf P\u00e6on; he with drugs of lenient powers,\nSoon heal\u2019d whom immortality secured\nFrom dissolution. As the juice from figs\nExpress\u2019d what fluid was in milk before\nCoagulates, stirr\u2019d rapidly around,1075\nSo soon was Mars by P\u00e6on skill restored.\nHim Hebe bathed, and with divine attire\nGraceful adorn\u2019d; when at the side of Jove\nAgain his glorious seat sublime he took.\nMeantime to the abode of Jove supreme1080\nAscended Juno throughout Argos known\nAnd mighty Pallas; Mars the plague of man,\nBy their successful force from slaughter driven.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VI.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK.\n\nThe battle is continued. The Trojans being closely pursued, Hector by\nthe advice of Helenus enters Troy, and recommends it to Hecuba to go in\nsolemn procession to the temple of Minerva; she with the matrons goes\naccordingly. Hector takes the opportunity to find out Paris, and\nexhorts him to return to the field of battle. An interview succeeds\nbetween Hector and Andromache, and Paris, having armed himself in the\nmean time, comes up with Hector at the close of it, when they sally\nfrom the gate together.\n\n\nBOOK VI.\n\n\nThus was the field forsaken by the Gods.\nAnd now success proved various; here the Greeks\nWith their extended spears, the Trojans there\nPrevail\u2019d alternate, on the champain spread\nThe Xanthus and the Simo\u00efs between.[1]5\nFirst Telamonian Ajax,[2] bulwark firm\nOf the Achaians, broke the Trojan ranks,\nAnd kindled for the Greeks a gleam of hope,\nSlaying the bravest of the Thracian band,\nHuge Acamas, Eusorus\u2019 son; him first10\nFull on the shaggy crest he smote, and urged\nThe spear into his forehead; through his skull\nThe bright point pass\u2019d, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nBut Diomede, heroic Chief, the son\nOf Teuthras slew, Axylus.[3] Rich was he,15\nAnd in Arisba (where he dwelt beside\nThe public road, and at his open door\nMade welcome all) respected and beloved.\nBut of his numerous guests none interposed\nTo avert his woful doom; nor him alone20\nHe slew, but with him also to the shades\nCalesius sent, his friend and charioteer.\nOpheltius fell and Dresus, by the hand\nSlain of Euryalus, who, next, his arms\nOn Pedasus and on \u00c6sepus turned25\nBrethren and twins. Them Abarbarea bore,\nA Naiad, to Bucolion, son renown\u2019d\nOf King Laomedon, his eldest born,\nBut by his mother, at his birth, conceal\u2019d.\nBucolion pasturing his flocks, embraced30\nThe lovely nymph; she twins produced, both whom,\nBrave as they were and beautiful, thy son[4]\nMecisteus! slew, and from their shoulders tore\nTheir armor. Dauntless Polyp\u0153tes slew\nAstyalus. Ulysses with his spear35\nTransfixed Pydites, a Percosian Chief,\nAnd Teucer Areta\u00f6n; Nestor\u2019s pride\nAntilochus, with his bright lance, of life\nBereft Ablerus, and the royal arm\nOf Agamemnon, Elatus; he dwelt40\nAmong the hills of lofty Pedasus,\nOn Satnio\u2019s banks, smooth-sliding river pure\nPhylacus fled, whom Le\u00eftus as swift\nSoon smote. Melanthius at the feet expired\nOf the renown\u2019d Eurypylus, and, flush\u2019d45\nWith martial ardor, Menelaus seized\nAnd took alive Adrastus. As it chanced\nA thicket his affrighted steeds detain\u2019d\nTheir feet entangling; they with restive force\nAt its extremity snapp\u2019d short the pole,50\nAnd to the city, whither others fled,\nFled also. From his chariot headlong hurl\u2019d,\nAdrastus press\u2019d the plain fast by his wheel.\nFlew Menelaus, and his quivering spear\nShook over him; he, life imploring, clasp\u2019d55\nImportunate his knees, and thus exclaim\u2019d.\nOh, son of Atreus, let me live! accept\nIllustrious ransom! In my father\u2019s house\nIs wealth abundant, gold, and brass, and steel\nOf truest temper, which he will impart60\nTill he have gratified thine utmost wish,\nInform\u2019d that I am captive in your fleet.\nHe said, and Menelaus by his words\nVanquish\u2019d, him soon had to the fleet dismiss\u2019d\nGiven to his train in charge, but swift and stern65\nApproaching, Agamemnon interposed.\nNow, brother, whence this milkiness of mind,\nThese scruples about blood? Thy Trojan friends\nHave doubtless much obliged thee. Die the race!\nMay none escape us! neither he who flies,70\nNor even the infant in his mother\u2019s womb\nUnconscious. Perish universal Troy\nUnpitied, till her place be found no more![5]\nSo saying, his brother\u2019s mind the Hero turn\u2019d,\nAdvising him aright; he with his hand75\nThrust back Adrastus, and himself, the King,\nHis bowels pierced. Supine Adrastus fell,\nAnd Agamemnon, with his foot the corse\nImpressing firm, pluck\u2019d forth his ashen spear.\nThen Nestor, raising high his voice, exclaim\u2019d.80\nFriends, Heroes, Grecians, ministers of Mars!\nLet none, desirous of the spoil, his time\nDevote to plunder now; now slay your foes,\nAnd strip them when the field shall be your own.[6]\n\nHe said, and all took courage at his word.85\nThen had the Trojans enter\u2019d Troy again\nBy the heroic Grecians foul repulsed,\nSo was their spirit daunted, but the son\nOf Priam, Helenus, an augur far\nExcelling all, at Hector\u2019s side his speech90\nTo him and to \u00c6neas thus address\u2019d.\nHector, and thou, \u00c6neas, since on you\nThe Lycians chiefly and ourselves depend,\nFor that in difficult emprize ye show\nMost courage; give best counsel; stand yourselves,95\nAnd, visiting all quarters, cause to stand\nBefore the city-gates our scatter\u2019d troops,\nEre yet the fugitives within the arms\nBe slaughter\u2019d of their wives, the scorn of Greece.\nWhen thus ye shall have rallied every band100\nAnd roused their courage, weary though we be,\nYet since necessity commands, even here\nWill we give battle to the host of Greece.\nBut, Hector! to the city thou depart;\nThere charge our mother, that she go direct,105\nWith the assembled matrons, to the fane\nOf Pallas in the citadel of Troy.\nOpening her chambers\u2019 sacred doors, of all\nHer treasured mantles there, let her select\nThe widest, most magnificently wrought,110\nAnd which she values most; _that_ let her spread\nOn Athen\u00e6an Pallas\u2019 lap divine.[7]\nTwelve heifers of the year yet never touch\u2019d\nWith puncture of the goad, let her alike\nDevote to her, if she will pity Troy,115\nOur wives and little ones, and will avert\nThe son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,\nThat dreadful Chief, terror of all our host,\nBravest, in my account, of all the Greeks.\nFor never yet Achilles hath himself120\nSo taught our people fear, although esteemed\nSon of a Goddess. But this warrior\u2019s rage\nIs boundless, and his strength past all compare.\nSo Helenus; nor Hector not complied.\nDown from his chariot instant to the ground125\nAll arm\u2019d he leap\u2019d, and, shaking his sharp spears,\nThrough every phalanx pass\u2019d, rousing again\nTheir courage, and rekindling horrid war.\nThey, turning, faced the Greeks; the Greeks repulsed,\nCeased from all carnage, nor supposed they less130\nThan that some Deity, the starry skies\nForsaken, help\u2019d their foes, so firm they stood.\nBut Hector to the Trojans call\u2019d aloud.\nYe dauntless Trojans and confederate powers\nCall\u2019d from afar! now be ye men, my friends,135\nNow summon all the fury of your might!\nI go to charge our senators and wives\nThat they address the Gods with prayers and vows\nFor our success, and hecatombs devote.\nSo saying the Hero went, and as he strode140\nThe sable hide that lined his bossy shield\nSmote on his neck and on his ancle-bone.\nAnd now into the middle space between\nBoth hosts, the son of Tydeus and the son\nMoved of Hippolochus, intent alike145\nOn furious combat; face to face they stood,\nAnd thus heroic Diomede began.\nMost noble Champion! who of human kind\nArt thou,[8] whom in the man-ennobling fight\nI now encounter first? Past all thy peers150\nI must esteem thee valiant, who hast dared\nTo meet my coming, and my spear defy.\nAh! they are sons of miserable sires\nWho dare my might; but if a God from heaven\nThou come, behold! I fight not with the Gods.155\nThat war Lycurgus son of Dryas waged,\nAnd saw not many years. The nurses he\nOf brain-disturbing Bacchus down the steep\nPursued of sacred Nyssa; they their wands\nVine-wreathed cast all away, with an ox-goad160\nChastised by fell Lycurgus. Bacchus plunged\nMeantime dismay\u2019d into the deep, where him\nTrembling, and at the Hero\u2019s haughty threats\nConfounded, Thetis in her bosom hid.[9]\nThus by Lycurgus were the blessed powers165\nOf heaven offended, and Saturnian Jove\nOf sight bereaved him, who not long that loss\nSurvived, for he was curst by all above.\nI, therefore, wage no contest with the Gods;\nBut if thou be of men, and feed on bread170\nOf earthly growth, draw nigh, that with a stroke\nWell-aim\u2019d, I may at once cut short thy days.[10]\nTo whom the illustrious Lycian Chief replied.\nWhy asks brave Diomede of my descent?\nFor, as the leaves, such is the race of man.[11]175\nThe wind shakes down the leaves, the budding grove\nSoon teems with others, and in spring they grow.\nSo pass mankind. One generation meets\nIts destined period, and a new succeeds.\nBut since thou seem\u2019st desirous to be taught180\nMy pedigree, whereof no few have heard,\nKnow that in Argos, in the very lap\nOf Argos, for her steed-grazed meadows famed,\nStands Ephyra;[12] there Sisyphus abode,\nShrewdest of human kind; Sisyphus, named185\n\u00c6olides. Himself a son begat,\nGlaucus, and he Bellerophon, to whom\nThe Gods both manly force and beauty gave.\nHim Pr\u0153tus (for in Argos at that time\nPr\u0153tus was sovereign, to whose sceptre Jove190\nHad subjected the land) plotting his death,\nContrived to banish from his native home.\nFor fair Anteia, wife of Pr\u0153tus, mad\nThrough love of young Bellerophon, him oft\nIn secret to illicit joys enticed;195\nBut she prevail\u2019d not o\u2019er the virtuous mind\nDiscrete of whom she wooed; therefore a lie\nFraming, she royal Pr\u0153tus thus bespake.\nDie thou, or slay Bellerophon, who sought\nOf late to force me to his lewd embrace.200\nSo saying, the anger of the King she roused.\nSlay him himself he would not, for his heart\nForbad the deed; him therefore he dismiss\u2019d\nTo Lycia, charged with tales of dire import\nWritten in tablets,[13] which he bade him show,205\nThat he might perish, to Anteia\u2019s sire.\nTo Lycia then, conducted by the Gods,\nHe went, and on the shores of Xanthus found\nFree entertainment noble at the hands\nOf Lycia\u2019s potent King. Nine days complete210\nHe feasted him, and slew each day an ox.\nBut when the tenth day\u2019s ruddy morn appear\u2019d,\nHe asked him then his errand, and to see\nThose written tablets from his son-in-law.\nThe letters seen, he bade him, first, destroy215\nChim\u00e6ra, deem\u2019d invincible, divine\nIn nature, alien from the race of man,\nLion in front, but dragon all behind,\nAnd in the midst a she-goat breathing forth\nProfuse the violence of flaming fire.220\nHer, confident in signs from heaven, he slew.\nNext, with the men of Solym\u00e6[14] he fought,\nBrave warriors far renown\u2019d, with whom he waged,\nIn his account, the fiercest of his wars.\nAnd lastly, when in battle he had slain225\nThe man-resisting Amazons, the king\nAnother stratagem at his return\nDevised against him, placing close-conceal\u2019d\nAn ambush for him from the bravest chosen\nIn Lycia; but they saw their homes no more;230\nBellerophon the valiant slew them all.\nThe monarch hence collecting, at the last,\nHis heavenly origin, him there detain\u2019d,\nAnd gave him his own daughter, with the half\nOf all his royal dignity and power.235\nThe Lycians also, for his proper use,\nLarge lot assigned him of their richest soil,[15]\nCommodious for the vine, or for the plow.\nAnd now his consort fair three children bore\nTo bold Bellerophon; Isandrus one,240\nAnd one, Hippolochus; his youngest born\nLaodamia was for beauty such\nThat she became a concubine of Jove.\nShe bore Sarpedon of heroic note.\nBut when Bellerophon, at last, himself245\nHad anger\u2019d all the Gods, feeding on grief\nHe roam\u2019d alone the Aleian field, exiled,\nBy choice, from every cheerful haunt of man.\nMars, thirsty still for blood, his son destroy\u2019d\nIsandrus, warring with the host renown\u2019d250\nOf Solym\u00e6; and in her wrath divine\nDiana from her chariot golden-rein\u2019d\nLaodamia slew. Myself I boast\nSprung from Hippolochus; he sent me forth\nTo fight for Troy, charging me much and oft255\nThat I should outstrip always all mankind\nIn worth and valor, nor the house disgrace\nOf my forefathers, heroes without peer\nIn Ephyra, and in Lycia\u2019s wide domain.\nSuch is my lineage; such the blood I boast.260\nHe ceased. Then valiant Diomede rejoiced.\nHe pitch\u2019d his spear, and to the Lycian Prince\nIn terms of peace and amity replied.\nThou art my own hereditary friend,\nWhose noble grandsire was the guest of mine.[16]265\nFor Oeneus, on a time, full twenty days\nRegaled Bellerophon, and pledges fair\nOf hospitality they interchanged.\nOeneus a belt radiant with purple gave\nTo brave Bellerophon, who in return270\nGave him a golden goblet. Coming forth\nI left the kind memorial safe at home.\nA child was I when Tydeus went to Thebes,\nWhere the Achaians perish\u2019d, and of him\nHold no remembrance; but henceforth, my friend,275\nThine host am I in Argos, and thou mine\nIn Lycia, should I chance to sojourn there.\nWe will not clash. Trojans or aids of Troy\nNo few the Gods shall furnish to my spear,\nWhom I may slaughter; and no want of Greeks280\nOn whom to prove thy prowess, thou shalt find.\nBut it were well that an exchange ensued\nBetween us; take mine armor, give me thine,\nThat all who notice us may understand\nOur patrimonial[17] amity and love.285\nSo they, and each alighting, hand in hand\nStood lock\u2019d, faith promising and firm accord.\nThen Jove of sober judgment so bereft\nInfatuate Glaucus that with Tydeus\u2019 son\nHe barter\u2019d gold for brass, an hundred beeves290\nIn value, for the value small of nine.\nBut Hector at the Sc\u00e6an gate and beech[18]\nMeantime arrived, to whose approach the wives\nAnd daughters flock\u2019d of Troy, inquiring each\nThe fate of husband, brother, son, or friend.295\nHe bade them all with solemn prayer the Gods\nSeek fervent, for that wo was on the wing.\nBut when he enter\u2019d Priam\u2019s palace, built\nWith splendid porticoes, and which within\nHad fifty chambers lined with polish\u2019d stone,300\nContiguous all, where Priam\u2019s sons reposed\nAnd his sons\u2019 wives, and where, on the other side.\nIn twelve magnificent chambers also lined\nWith polish\u2019d marble and contiguous all,\nThe sons-in-law of Priam lay beside305\nHis spotless daughters, there the mother queen\nSeeking the chamber of Laodice,\nLoveliest of all her children, as she went\nMet Hector. On his hand she hung and said:\nWhy leavest thou, O my son! the dangerous field?310\nI fear that the Achaians (hateful name!)\nCompass the walls so closely, that thou seek\u2019st\nUrged by distress the citadel, to lift\nThine hands in prayer to Jove? But pause awhile\nTill I shall bring thee wine, that having pour\u2019d315\nLibation rich to Jove and to the powers\nImmortal, thou may\u2019st drink and be refresh\u2019d.\nFor wine is mighty to renew the strength\nOf weary man, and weary thou must be\nThyself, thus long defending us and ours.320\nTo whom her son majestic thus replied.\nMy mother, whom I reverence! cheering wine\nBring none to me, lest I forget my might.[19]\nI fear, beside, with unwash\u2019d hands to pour\nLibation forth of sable wine to Jove,325\nAnd dare on none account, thus blood-defiled,[20]\nApproach the tempest-stirring God in prayer.\nThou, therefore, gathering all our matrons, seek\nThe fane of Pallas, huntress of the spoil,\nBearing sweet incense; but from the attire330\nTreasured within thy chamber, first select\nThe amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought,\nAnd which thou prizest most\u2014then spread the gift\nOn Athen\u00e6an Pallas\u2019 lap divine.\nTwelve heifers also of the year, untouch\u2019d335\nWith puncture of the goad, promise to slay\nIn sacrifice, if she will pity Troy,\nOur wives and little ones, and will avert\nThe son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,\nThat dreadful Chief, terror of all our host.340\nGo then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane\nOf the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while,\nSeek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear,\nShall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn\nAnd swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse345\nTo Troy, to Priam, and to all his house;\nMethinks, to see him plunged into the shades\nFor ever, were a cure for all my woes.\nHe ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged\nHer maidens; they, incontinent, throughout350\nAll Troy convened the matrons, as she bade.\nMeantime into her wardrobe incense-fumed,\nHerself descended; there her treasures lay,\nWorks of Sidonian women,[21] whom her son\nThe godlike Paris, when he cross\u2019d the seas355\nWith Jove-begotten Helen, brought to Troy.\nThe most magnificent, and varied most\nWith colors radiant, from the rest she chose\nFor Pallas; vivid as a star it shone,\nAnd lowest lay of all. Then forth she went,360\nThe Trojan matrons all following her steps.\nBut when the long procession reach\u2019d the fane\nOf Pallas in the heights of Troy, to them\nThe fair Theano ope\u2019d the portals wide,\nDaughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor\u2019s spouse,365\nAnd by appointment public, at that time,\nPriestess of Pallas. All with lifted hands[22]\nIn presence of Minerva wept aloud.\nBeauteous Theano on the Goddess\u2019 lap\nThen spread the robe, and to the daughter fair370\nOf Jove omnipotent her suit address\u2019d.\nGoddess[23] of Goddesses, our city\u2019s shield,\nAdored Minerva, hear! oh! break the lance\nOf Diomede, and give himself to fall\nProne in the dust before the Sc\u00e6an gate.375\nSo will we offer to thee at thy shrine,\nThis day twelve heifers of the year, untouch\u2019d\nBy yoke or goad, if thou wilt pity show\nTo Troy, and save our children and our wives.\nSuch prayer the priestess offer\u2019d, and such prayer380\nAll present; whom Minerva heard averse.\nBut Hector to the palace sped meantime\nOf Alexander, which himself had built,\nAided by every architect of name\nIllustrious then in Troy. Chamber it had,385\nWide hall, proud dome, and on the heights of Troy\nNear-neighboring Hector\u2019s house and Priam\u2019s stood.\nThere enter\u2019d Hector, Jove-beloved, a spear\nIts length eleven cubits in his hand,\nIts glittering head bound with a ring of gold.390\nHe found within his chamber whom he sought,\nPolishing with exactest care his arms\nResplendent, shield and hauberk fingering o\u2019er\nWith curious touch, and tampering with his bow.[24]\nHelen of Argos with her female train395\nSat occupied, the while, to each in turn\nSome splendid task assigning. Hector fix\u2019d\nHis eyes on Paris, and him stern rebuked.\nThy sullen humors, Paris, are ill-timed.\nThe people perish at our lofty walls;400\nThe flames of war have compass\u2019d Troy around\nAnd thou hast kindled them; who yet thyself\nThat slackness show\u2019st which in another seen\nThou would\u2019st resent to death. Haste, seek the field\nThis moment, lest, the next, all Ilium blaze.405\nTo whom thus Paris, graceful as a God.\nSince, Hector, thou hast charged me with a fault,\nAnd not unjustly, I will answer make,\nAnd give thou special heed. That here I sit,\nThe cause is sorrow, which I wish\u2019d to soothe410\nIn secret, not displeasure or revenge.\nI tell thee also, that even now my wife\nWas urgent with me in most soothing terms\nThat I would forth to battle; and myself,\nAware that victory oft changes sides,415\nThat course prefer. Wait, therefore, thou awhile,\nTill I shall dress me for the fight, or go\nThou first, and I will overtake thee soon.\nHe ceased, to whom brave Hector answer none\nReturn\u2019d, when Helen him with lenient speech420\nAccosted mild.[25] My brother! who in me\nHast found a sister worthy of thy hate,\nAuthoress of all calamity to Troy,\nOh that the winds, the day when I was born,\nHad swept me out of sight, whirl\u2019d me aloft425\nTo some inhospitable mountain-top,\nOr plunged me in the deep; there I had sunk\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d, and all these ills had never been.\nBut since the Gods would bring these ills to pass,\nI should, at least, some worthier mate have chosen,430\nOne not insensible to public shame.\nBut this, oh this, nor hath nor will acquire\nHereafter, aught which like discretion shows\nOr reason, and shall find his just reward.\nBut enter; take this seat; for who as thou435\nLabors, or who hath cause like thee to rue\nThe crime, my brother, for which Heaven hath doom\u2019d\nBoth Paris and my most detested self\nTo be the burthens of an endless song?\nTo whom the warlike Hector huge[26] replied.440\nMe bid not, Helen, to a seat, howe\u2019er\nThou wish my stay, for thou must not prevail.\nThe Trojans miss me, and myself no less\nAm anxious to return. But urge in haste\nThis loiterer forth; yea, let him urge himself445\nTo overtake me ere I quit the town.\nFor I must home in haste, that I may see\nMy loved Andromache, my infant boy,\nAnd my domestics, ignorant if e\u2019er\nI shall behold them more, or if my fate450\nOrdain me now to fall by Grecian hands.\nSo spake the dauntless hero, and withdrew.\nBut reaching soon his own well-built abode\nHe found not fair Andromache; she stood\nLamenting Hector, with the nurse who bore455\nHer infant, on a turret\u2019s top sublime.\nHe then, not finding his chaste spouse within,\nThus from the portal, of her train inquired.\nTell me, ye maidens, whither went from home\nAndromache the fair?[27] Went she to see460\nHer female kindred of my father\u2019s house,\nOr to Minerva\u2019s temple, where convened\nThe bright-hair\u2019d matrons of the city seek\nTo soothe the awful Goddess? Tell me true.\nTo whom his household\u2019s governess discreet.465\nSince, Hector, truth is thy demand, receive\nTrue answer. Neither went she forth to see\nHer female kindred of thy father\u2019s house,\nNor to Minerva\u2019s temple, where convened\nThe bright-haired matrons of the city seek470\nTo soothe the awful Goddess; but she went\nHence to the tower of Troy: for she had heard\nThat the Achaians had prevail\u2019d, and driven\nThe Trojans to the walls; she, therefore, wild\nWith grief, flew thither, and the nurse her steps475\nAttended, with thy infant in her arms.\nSo spake the prudent governess; whose words\nWhen Hector heard, issuing from his door\nHe backward trod with hasty steps the streets\nOf lofty Troy, and having traversed all480\nThe spacious city, when he now approach\u2019d\nThe Sc\u00e6an gate, whence he must seek the field,\nThere, hasting home again his noble wife\nMet him, Andromache the rich-endow\u2019d\nFair daughter of E\u00ebtion famed in arms.485\nE\u00ebtion, who in Hypoplacian Thebes\nUmbrageous dwelt, Cilicia\u2019s mighty lord\u2014\nHis daughter valiant Hector had espoused.\nThere she encounter\u2019d him, and with herself\nThe nurse came also, bearing in her arms490\nHectorides, his infant darling boy,\nBeautiful as a star. Him Hector called\nScamandrios, but Astyanax[28] all else\nIn Ilium named him, for that Hector\u2019s arm\nAlone was the defence and strength of Troy.495\nThe father, silent, eyed his babe, and smiled.\nAndromache, meantime, before him stood,\nWith streaming cheeks, hung on his hand, and said.\nThy own great courage will cut short thy days,\nMy noble Hector! neither pitiest thou500\nThy helpless infant, or my hapless self,\nWhose widowhood is near; for thou wilt fall\nEre long, assail\u2019d by the whole host of Greece.\nThen let me to the tomb, my best retreat\nWhen thou art slain. For comfort none or joy505\nCan I expect, thy day of life extinct,\nBut thenceforth, sorrow. Father I have none;\nNo mother. When Cilicia\u2019s city, Thebes\nThe populous, was by Achilles sack\u2019d.\nHe slew my father; yet his gorgeous arms510\nStripp\u2019d not through reverence of him, but consumed,\nArm\u2019d as it was, his body on the pile,\nAnd heap\u2019d his tomb, which the Oreades,\nJove\u2019s daughters, had with elms inclosed around.[29]\nMy seven brothers, glory of our house,515\nAll in one day descended to the shades;\nFor brave Achilles,[30] while they fed their herds\nAnd snowy flocks together, slew them all.\nMy mother, Queen of the well-wooded realm\nOf Hypoplacian Thebes, her hither brought520\nAmong his other spoils, he loosed again\nAt an inestimable ransom-price,\nBut by Diana pierced, she died at home.\nYet Hector\u2014oh my husband! I in thee\nFind parents, brothers, all that I have lost.525\nCome! have compassion on us. Go not hence,\nBut guard this turret, lest of me thou make\nA widow, and an orphan of thy boy.\nThe city walls are easiest of ascent\nAt yonder fig-tree; station there thy powers;530\nFor whether by a prophet warn\u2019d, or taught\nBy search and observation, in that part\nEach Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete,\nThe sons of Atreus, and the valiant son\nOf Tydeus, have now thrice assail\u2019d the town.535\nTo whom the leader of the host of Troy.\nThese cares, Andromache, which thee engage,\nAll touch me also; but I dread to incur\nThe scorn of male and female tongues in Troy,\nIf, dastard-like, I should decline the fight.540\nNor feel I such a wish. No. I have learn\u2019d\nTo be courageous ever, in the van\nAmong the flower of Ilium to assert\nMy glorious father\u2019s honor, and my own.\nFor that the day shall come when sacred Troy,545\nWhen Priam, and the people of the old\nSpear-practised King shall perish, well I know.\nBut for no Trojan sorrows yet to come\nSo much I mourn, not e\u2019en for Hecuba,\nNor yet for Priam, nor for all the brave550\nOf my own brothers who shall kiss the dust,\nAs for thyself, when some Achaian Chief\nShall have convey\u2019d thee weeping hence, thy sun\nOf peace and liberty for ever set.\nThen shalt thou toil in Argos at the loom555\nFor a task-mistress, and constrain\u2019d shalt draw\nFrom Hypere\u00efa\u2019s fount,[31] or from the fount\nMesse\u00efs, water at her proud command.\nSome Grecian then, seeing thy tears, shall say\u2014\n\u201cThis was the wife of Hector, who excell\u2019d560\nAll Troy in fight when Ilium was besieged.\u201d\nSuch he shall speak thee, and thy heart, the while,\nShall bleed afresh through want of such a friend\nTo stand between captivity and thee.\nBut may I rest beneath my hill of earth565\nOr ere that day arrive! I would not live\nTo hear thy cries, and see thee torn away.\nSo saying, illustrious Hector stretch\u2019d his arms\nForth to his son, but with a scream, the child\nFell back into the bosom of his nurse,570\nHis father\u2019s aspect dreading, whose bright arms\nHe had attentive mark\u2019d and shaggy crest\nPlaying tremendous o\u2019er his helmet\u2019s height.\nHis father and his gentle mother laugh\u2019d,[32]\nAnd noble Hector lifting from his head575\nHis dazzling helmet, placed it on the ground,\nThen kiss\u2019d his boy and dandled him, and thus\nIn earnest prayer the heavenly powers implored.\nHear all ye Gods! as ye have given to me,\nSo also on my son excelling might580\nBestow, with chief authority in Troy.\nAnd be his record this, in time to come,\nWhen he returns from battle. Lo! how far\nThe son excels the sire! May every foe\nFall under him, and he come laden home585\nWith spoils blood-stain\u2019d to his dear mother\u2019s joy.\nHe said, and gave his infant to the arms\nOf his Andromache, who him received\nInto her fragrant bosom, bitter tears\nWith sweet smiles mingling; he with pity moved590\nThat sight observed, soft touch\u2019d her cheek, and said,\nMourn not, my loved Andromache, for me\nToo much; no man shall send me to the shades\nOf Tartarus, ere mine allotted hour,\nNor lives he who can overpass the date595\nBy heaven assign\u2019d him, be he base or brave.[33]\nGo then, and occupy content at home\nThe woman\u2019s province; ply the distaff, spin\nAnd weave, and task thy maidens. War belongs\nTo man; to all men; and of all who first600\nDrew vital breath in Ilium, most to me.[34]\n\nHe ceased, and from the ground his helmet raised\nHair-crested; his Andromache, at once\nObedient, to her home repair\u2019d, but oft\nTurn\u2019d as she went, and, turning, wept afresh.605\nNo sooner at the palace she arrived\nOf havoc-spreading Hector, than among\nHer numerous maidens found within, she raised\nA general lamentation; with one voice,\nIn his own house, his whole domestic train610\nMourn\u2019d Hector, yet alive; for none the hope\nConceived of his escape from Grecian hands,\nOr to behold their living master more.\nNor Paris in his stately mansion long\nDelay\u2019d, but, arm\u2019d resplendent, traversed swift615\nThe city, all alacrity and joy.\nAs some stall\u2019d horse high-fed, his stable-cord\nSnapt short, beats under foot the sounding plain,\nAccustomed in smooth-sliding streams to lave\nExulting; high he bears his head, his mane620\nUndulates o\u2019er his shoulders, pleased he eyes\nHis glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees\nShoots to the meadow where his fellows graze;\nSo Paris, son of Priam, from the heights\nOf Pergamus into the streets of Troy,625\nAll dazzling as the sun, descended, flush\u2019d\nWith martial pride, and bounding in his course.\nAt once he came where noble Hector stood\nNow turning, after conference with his spouse,\nWhen godlike Alexander thus began.630\nMy hero brother, thou hast surely found\nMy long delay most irksome. More dispatch\nHad pleased thee more, for such was thy command.\nTo whom the warlike Hector thus replied.\nNo man, judicious, and in feat of arms635\nIntelligent, would pour contempt on thee\n(For thou art valiant) wert thou not remiss\nAnd wilful negligent; and when I hear\nThe very men who labor in thy cause\nReviling thee, I make thy shame my own.640\nBut let us on. All such complaints shall cease\nHereafter, and thy faults be touch\u2019d no more,\nLet Jove but once afford us riddance clear\nOf these Achaians, and to quaff the cup\nOf liberty, before the living Gods.645\n\n\nIt may be observed, that Hector begins to resume his hope of success,\nand his warlike spirit is roused again, as he approaches the field of\naction. The depressing effect of his sad interview is wearing away from\nhis mind, and he is already prepared for the battle with Ajax, which\nawaits him.\n\nThe student who has once read this book, will read it again and again.\nIt contains much that is addressed to the deepest feelings of our\ncommon nature, and, despite of the long interval of time which lies\nbetween our age and the Homeric\u2014despite the manifold changes of\ncustoms, habits, pursuits, and the advances that have been made in\ncivilization and art\u2014despite of all these, the universal spirit of\nhumanity will recognize in these scenes much of that true poetry which\ndelights alike all ages, all nations, all men.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.\n\nAjax and Hector engage in single combat. The Grecians fortify their\ncamp.\n\n\nBOOK VII.\n\n\nSo saying, illustrious Hector through the gates\nTo battle rush\u2019d, with Paris at his side,\nAnd both were bent on deeds of high renown.\nAs when the Gods vouchsafe propitious gales\nTo longing mariners, who with smooth oars5\nThreshing the waves have all their strength consumed,\nSo them the longing Trojans glad received.\nAt once each slew a Grecian. Paris slew\nMenesthius who in Arna dwelt, the son\nOf Areitho\u00fcs, club-bearing chief,10\nAnd of Philomedusa radiant-eyed.\nBut Hector wounded with his glittering spear\nE\u00efoneus; he pierced his neck beneath\nHis brazen morion\u2019s verge, and dead he fell.\nThen Glaucus, leader of the Lycian host,15\nSon of Hippolochus, in furious fight\nIphino\u00fcs son of Dexias assail\u2019d,\nMounting his rapid mares, and with his lance\nHis shoulder pierced; unhorsed he fell and died.\nSuch slaughter of the Grecians in fierce fight20\nMinerva noting, from the Olympian hills\nFlew down to sacred Ilium; whose approach\nMarking from Pergamus, Apollo flew\nTo meet her, ardent on the part of Troy.\nBeneath the beech they join\u2019d, when first the King,25\nThe son of Jove, Apollo thus began.\n\nDaughter of Jove supreme! why hast thou left\nOlympus, and with such impetuous speed?\nComest thou to give the Dana\u00ef success\nDecisive? For I know that pity none30\nThou feel\u2019st for Trojans, perish as they may\nBut if advice of mine can influence thee\nTo that which shall be best, let us compose\nThis day the furious fight which shall again\nHereafter rage, till Ilium be destroy\u2019d.35\nSince such is Juno\u2019s pleasure and thy own.\nHim answer\u2019d then Pallas c\u00e6rulean-eyed.\nCelestial archer! be it so. I came\nMyself so purposing into the field\nFrom the Olympian heights. But by what means40\nWilt thou induce the warriors to a pause?\nTo whom the King, the son of Jove, replied.\nThe courage of equestrian Hector bold\nLet us excite, that he may challenge forth\nTo single conflict terrible some chief45\nAchaian. The Achaians brazen-mail\u2019d\nIndignant, will supply a champion soon\nTo combat with the noble Chief of Troy.\nSo spake Apollo, and his counsel pleased\nMinerva; which when Helenus the seer,50\nPriam\u2019s own son, in his prophetic soul\nPerceived, approaching Hector, thus he spake.\nJove\u2019s peer in wisdom, Hector, Priam\u2019s son!\nI am thy brother. Wilt thou list to me?\nBid cease the battle. Bid both armies sit.55\nCall first, thyself, the mightiest of the Greeks\nTo single conflict. I have heard the voice\nOf the Eternal Gods, and well-assured\nForetell thee that thy death not now impends.\nHe spake, whom Hector heard with joy elate.60\nBefore his van striding into the space\nBoth hosts between, he with his spear transverse[1]\nPress\u2019d back the Trojans, and they sat. Down sat\nThe well-greaved Grecians also at command\nOf Agamemnon; and in shape assumed65\nOf vultures, Pallas and Apollo perch\u2019d\nHigh on the lofty beech sacred to Jove\nThe father \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d; delighted thence\nThey view\u2019d the peopled plain horrent around\nWith shields and helms and glittering spears erect.70\nAs when fresh-blowing Zephyrus the flood\nSweeps first, the ocean blackens at the blast,\nSuch seem\u2019d the plain whereon the Achaians sat\nAnd Trojans, whom between thus Hector spake.\nYe Trojans and Achaians brazen-greaved,75\nAttend while I shall speak! Jove high-enthroned\nHath not fulfill\u2019d the truce, but evil plans\nAgainst both hosts, till either ye shall take\nTroy\u2019s lofty towers, or shall yourselves in flight\nFall vanquish\u2019d at your billow-cleaving barks.80\nWith you is all the flower of Greece.[2] Let him\nWhose heart shall move him to encounter sole\nIllustrious Hector, from among you all\nStand forth, and Jove be witness to us both.\nIf he, with his long-pointed lance, of life85\nShall me bereave, my armor is his prize,\nWhich he shall hence into your fleet convey;\nNot so my body; that he shall resign\nFor burial to the men and wives of Troy.\nBut if Apollo make the glory mine,90\nAnd he fall vanquish\u2019d, him will I despoil,\nAnd hence conveying into sacred Troy\nHis arms, will in the temple hang them high[3]\nOf the bow-bender God, but I will send\nHis body to the fleet, that him the Greeks95\nMay grace with rights funereal. On the banks\nOf wide-spread Hellespont ye shall upraise\nHis tomb, and as they cleave with oary barks\nThe sable deep, posterity shall say\u2014\n\u201cIt is a warrior\u2019s tomb; in ancient days100\nThe Hero died; him warlike Hector slew.\u201d\nSo men shall speak hereafter, and my fame\nWho slew him, and my praise, shall never die.\nHe ceased, and all sat mute. His challenge bold\nNone dared accept, which yet they blush\u2019d to shun,105\nTill Menelaus, at the last, arose\nGroaning profound, and thus reproach\u2019d the Greeks.\nAh boasters! henceforth women\u2014men no more\u2014\nEternal shame, shame infinite is ours,\nIf none of all the Grecians dares contend110\nWith Hector. Dastards\u2014deaf to glory\u2019s call\u2014\nRot where ye sit! I will myself take arms\nAgainst him, for the gods alone dispose,\nAt their own pleasure, the events of war.\nHe ended, and put on his radiant arms.115\nThen, Menelaus, manifest appear\u2019d\nThy death approaching by the dreadful hands\nOf Hector, mightier far in arms than thou,\nBut that the Chiefs of the Achaians all\nUpstarting stay\u2019d thee, and himself the King,120\nThe son of Atreus, on thy better hand\nSeizing affectionate, thee thus address\u2019d.\nThou ravest, my royal brother! and art seized\nWith needless frenzy. But, however chafed,\nRestrain thy wrath, nor covet to contend125\nWith Priameian Hector, whom in fight\nAll dread, a warrior thy superior far.\nNot even Achilles, in the glorious field\n(Though stronger far than thou) this hero meets\nUndaunted. Go then, and thy seat resume130\nIn thy own band; the Achaians shall for him,\nDoubtless, some fitter champion furnish forth.\nBrave though he be, and with the toils of war\nInsatiable, he shall be willing yet,\nSeated on his bent knees, to breathe a while,135\nShould he escape the arduous brunt severe.\nSo saying, the hero by his counsel wise\nHis brother\u2019s purpose alter\u2019d; he complied,\nAnd his glad servants eased him of his arms.\nThen Nestor thus the Argive host bespake.140\nGreat wo, ye Gods! hath on Achaia fallen.\nNow may the warlike Pelaus, hoary Chief,\nWho both with eloquence and wisdom rules\nThe Myrmidons, our foul disgrace deplore.\nWith him discoursing, erst, of ancient times,145\nWhen all your pedigrees I traced, I made\nHis heart bound in him at the proud report.\nBut now, when he shall learn how here we sat\nCowering at the foot of Hector, he shall oft\nHis hands uplift to the immortal Gods,150\nPraying a swift release into the shades.\nJove! Pallas! Ph\u0153bus! Oh that I were young\nAs when the Pylians in fierce fight engaged\nThe Arcadians spear-expert, beside the stream\nOf rapid Celadon! Beneath the walls155\nWe fought of Pheia, where the Jardan rolls.\nThere Ereuthalion, Chief of godlike form,\nStood forth before his van, and with loud voice\nDefied the Pylians. Arm\u2019d he was in steel\nBy royal Are\u00efthous whilom worn;160\nBrave Are\u00efthous, Corynetes[4] named\nBy every tongue; for that in bow and spear\nNought trusted he, but with an iron mace\nThe close-embattled phalanx shatter\u2019d wide.\nHim by address, not by superior force,165\nLycurgus vanquish\u2019d, in a narrow pass,\nWhere him his iron whirl-bat[5] nought avail\u2019d.\nLycurgus stealing on him, with his lance\nTranspierced and fix\u2019d him to the soil supine.\nHim of his arms, bright gift of brazen Mars,170\nHe stripp\u2019d, which after, in the embattled field\nLycurgus wore himself, but, growing old,\nSurrender\u2019d them to Ereuthalion\u2019s use\nHis armor-bearer, high in his esteem,\nAnd Ereuthalion wore them on the day175\nWhen he defied our best. All hung their heads\nAnd trembled; none dared meet him; till at last\nWith inborn courage warm\u2019d, and nought dismayed,\nThough youngest of them all, I undertook\nThat contest, and, by Pallas\u2019 aid, prevail\u2019d.180\nI slew the man in height and bulk all men\nSurpassing, and much soil he cover\u2019d slain.\nOh for the vigor of those better days!\nThen should not Hector want a champion long,\nWhose call to combat, ye, although the prime185\nAnd pride of all our land, seem slow to hear.\nHe spake reproachful, when at once arose\nNine heroes. Agamemnon, King of men,\nForemost arose; then Tydeus\u2019 mighty son,\nWith either Ajax in fierce prowess clad;190\nThe Cretan next, Idomeneus, with whom\nUprose Meriones his friend approved,\nTerrible as the man-destroyer Mars.\nEv\u00e6mon\u2019s noble offspring next appear\u2019d\nEurypylus; Andr\u00e6mon\u2019s son the next195\nThoas; and last, Ulysses, glorious Chief.\nAll these stood ready to engage in arms\nWith warlike Hector, when the ancient King,\nGerenian Nestor, thus his speech resumed.\nNow cast the lot for all. Who wins the chance200\nShall yield Achaia service, and himself\nServe also, if successful he escape\nThis brunt of hostile hardiment severe.\nSo Nestor. They, inscribing each his lot,\nInto the helmet cast it of the son205\nOf Atreus, Agamemnon. Then the host\nPray\u2019d all, their hands uplifting, and with eyes\nTo the wide heavens directed, many said[6]\u2014\nEternal sire! choose Ajax, or the son\nOf Tydeus, or the King himself[7] who sways210\nThe sceptre in Mycen\u00e6 wealth-renown\u2019d!\nSuch prayer the people made; then Nestor shook\nThe helmet, and forth leaped, whose most they wished,\nThe lot of Ajax. Throughout all the host\nTo every chief and potentate of Greece,215\nFrom right to left the herald bore the lot\nBy all disown\u2019d; but when at length he reach\u2019d\nThe inscriber of the lot, who cast it in,\nIllustrious Ajax, in his open palm\nThe herald placed it, standing at his side.220\nHe, conscious, with heroic joy the lot\nCast at his foot, and thus exclaim\u2019d aloud.\nMy friends! the lot is mine,[8] and my own heart\nRejoices also; for I nothing doubt\nThat noble Hector shall be foil\u2019d by me.225\nBut while I put mine armor on, pray all\nIn silence to the King Saturnian Jove,\nLest, while ye pray, the Trojans overhear.\nOr pray aloud, for whom have we to dread?\nNo man shall my firm standing by his strength230\nUnsettle, or for ignorance of mine\nMe vanquish, who, I hope, brought forth and train\u2019d\nIn Salamis, have, now, not much to learn.\nHe ended. They with heaven-directed eyes\nThe King in prayer address\u2019d, Saturnian Jove.235\nJove! glorious father! who from Ida\u2019s height\nControlest all below, let Ajax prove\nVictorious; make the honor all his own!\nOr, if not less than Ajax, Hector share\nThy love and thy regard, divide the prize240\nOf glory, and let each achieve renown!\nThen Ajax put his radiant armor on,\nAnd, arm\u2019d complete, rush\u2019d forward. As huge Mars\nTo battle moves the sons of men between\nWhom Jove with heart-devouring thirst inspires245\nOf war, so moved huge Ajax to the fight,\nTower of the Greeks, dilating with a smile\nHis martial features terrible; on feet,\nFirm-planted, to the combat he advanced\nStride after stride, and shook his quivering spear.250\nHim viewing, Argos\u2019 universal host\nExulted, while a panic loosed the knees\nOf every Trojan; even Hector\u2019s heart\nBeat double, but escape for him remain\u2019d\nNone now, or to retreat into his ranks255\nAgain, from whom himself had challenged forth.\nAjax advancing like a tower his shield\nSevenfold, approach\u2019d. It was the labor\u2019d work\nOf Tychius, armorer of matchless skill,\nWho dwelt in Hyla; coated with the hides260\nOf seven high-pamper\u2019d bulls that shield he framed\nFor Ajax, and the disk plated with brass.\nAdvancing it before his breast, the son\nOf Telamon approach\u2019d the Trojan Chief,\nAnd face to face, him threatening, thus began.265\nNow, Hector, prove, by me alone opposed,\nWhat Chiefs the Dana\u00ef can furnish forth\nIn absence of the lion-hearted prince\nAchilles, breaker of the ranks of war.\nHe, in his billow-cleaving barks incensed270\nAgainst our leader Agamemnon, lies;\nBut warriors of my measure, who may serve\nTo cope with thee, we want not; numerous such\nAre found amongst us. But begin the fight.\nTo whom majestic Hector fierce in arms.275\nAjax! heroic leader of the Greeks!\nOffspring of Telamon! essay not me\nWith words to terrify, as I were boy.\nOr girl unskill\u2019d in war;[9] I am a man\nWell exercised in battle, who have shed280\nThe blood of many a warrior, and have learn\u2019d,\nFrom hand to hand shifting my shield, to fight\nUnwearied; I can make a sport of war,\nIn standing fight adjusting all my steps\nTo martial measures sweet, or vaulting light285\nInto my chariot, thence can urge the foe.\nYet in contention with a Chief like thee\nI will employ no stratagem, or seek\nTo smite thee privily, but with a stroke\n(If I may reach thee) visible to all.290\nSo saying, he shook, then hurl\u2019d his massy spear\nAt Ajax, and his broad shield sevenfold\nOn its eighth surface of resplendent brass\nSmote full; six hides the unblunted weapon pierced,\nBut in the seventh stood rooted. Ajax, next,295\nHeroic Chief, hurl\u2019d his long shadow\u2019d spear\nAnd struck the oval shield of Priam\u2019s son.\nThrough his bright disk the weapon tempest-driven\nGlided, and in his hauberk-rings infixt\nAt his soft flank, ripp\u2019d wide his vest within.300\nInclined oblique he \u2019scaped the dreadful doom\nThen each from other\u2019s shield his massy spear\nRecovering quick, like lions hunger-pinch\u2019d\nOr wild boars irresistible in force,\nThey fell to close encounter. Priam\u2019s son305\nThe shield of Ajax at its centre smote,\nBut fail\u2019d to pierce it, for he bent his point.\nSprang Ajax then, and meeting full the targe\nOf Hector, shock\u2019d him; through it and beyond\nHe urged the weapon with its sliding edge310\nAthwart his neck, and blood was seen to start.\nBut still, for no such cause, from battle ceased\nCrest-tossing Hector, but retiring, seized\nA huge stone angled sharp and black with age\nThat on the champain lay. The bull-hide guard315\nSevenfold of Ajax with that stone he smote\nFull on its centre; sang the circling brass.\nThen Ajax far a heavier stone upheaved;\nHe whirled it, and with might immeasurable\nDismiss\u2019d the mass, which with a mill-stone weight320\nSank through the shield of Hector, and his knees\nDisabled; with his shield supine he fell,\nBut by Apollo raised, stood soon again.\nAnd now, with swords they had each other hewn,\nHad not the messengers of Gods and men325\nThe heralds wise, Id\u00e6us on the part\nOf Ilium, and Talthybius for the Greeks,\nAdvancing interposed. His sceptre each\nBetween them held, and thus Id\u00e6us spake.[10]\nMy children, cease! prolong not still the fight.330\nYe both are dear to cloud-assembler Jove,\nBoth valiant, and all know it. But the Night\nHath fallen, and Night\u2019s command must be obeyed.\nTo him the son of Telamon replied.\nId\u00e6us! bid thy master speak as thou.335\nHe is the challenger. If such his choice,\nMine differs not; I wait but to comply.\nHim answer\u2019d then heroic Hector huge.\nSince, Ajax, the immortal powers on thee\nHave bulk pre-eminent and strength bestow\u2019d,340\nWith such address in battle, that the host\nOf Greece hath not thine equal at the spear,\nNow let the combat cease. We shall not want\nMore fair occasion; on some future day\nWe will not part till all-disposing heaven345\nShall give thee victory, or shall make her mine.\nBut Night hath fallen, and Night must be obey\u2019d,\nThat them may\u2019st gratify with thy return\nThe Achaians, and especially thy friends\nAnd thy own countrymen. I go, no less350\nTo exhilarate in Priam\u2019s royal town\nMen and robed matrons, who shall seek the Gods\nFor me, with pious ceremonial due.\nBut come. We will exchange, or ere we part,\nSome princely gift, that Greece and Troy may say355\nHereafter, with soul-wasting rage they fought,\nBut parted with the gentleness of friends.\nSo saying, he with his sheath and belt a sword\nPresented bright-emboss\u2019d, and a bright belt\nPurpureal[11] took from Ajax in return.360\nThus separated, one the Grecians sought,\nAnd one the Trojans; they when him they saw\nFrom the unconquer\u2019d hands return\u2019d alive\nOf Ajax, with delight their Chief received,\nAnd to the city led him, double joy365\nConceiving all at his unhoped escape.\nOn the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail\u2019d\nTo noble Agamemnon introduced\nExulting Ajax, and the King of men\nIn honor of the conqueror slew an ox370\nOf the fifth year to Jove omnipotent.\nHim flaying first, they carved him next and spread\nThe whole abroad, then, scoring deep the flesh,\nThey pierced it with the spits, and from the spits\n(Once roasted well) withdrew it all again.375\nTheir labor thus accomplish\u2019d, and the board\nFurnish\u2019d with plenteous cheer, they feasted all\nTill all were satisfied; nor Ajax miss\u2019d\nThe conqueror\u2019s meed, to whom the hero-king\nWide-ruling Agamemnon, gave the chine[12]380\nPerpetual,[13] his distinguish\u2019d portion due.\nThe calls of hunger and of thirst at length\nBoth well sufficed, thus, foremost of them all\nThe ancient Nestor, whose advice had oft\nProved salutary, prudent thus began.385\nChiefs of Achaia, and thou, chief of all,\nGreat Agamemnon! Many of our host\nLie slain, whose blood sprinkles, in battle shed,\nThe banks of smooth Scamander, and their souls\nHave journey\u2019d down into the realms of death.390\nTo-morrow, therefore, let the battle pause\nAs need requires, and at the peep of day\nWith mules and oxen, wheel ye from all parts\nThe dead, that we may burn them near the fleet.\nSo, home to Greece returning, will we give395\nThe fathers\u2019 ashes to the children\u2019s care.\nAccumulating next, the pile around,\nOne common tomb for all, with brisk dispatch\nWe will upbuild for more secure defence\nOf us and of our fleet, strong towers and tall400\nAdjoining to the tomb, and every tower\nShall have its ponderous gate, commodious pass\nAffording to the mounted charioteer.\nAnd last, without those towers and at their foot,\nDig we a trench, which compassing around405\nOur camp, both steeds and warriors shall exclude,\nAnd all fierce inroad of the haughty foe.\nSo counsell\u2019d he, whom every Chief approved.\nIn Troy meantime, at Priam\u2019s gate beside\nThe lofty citadel, debate began410\nThe assembled senators between, confused,\nClamorous, and with furious heat pursued,\nWhen them Antenor, prudent, thus bespake.\nYe Trojans, Dardans, and allies of Troy,\nMy counsel hear! Delay not. Instant yield415\nTo the Atrid\u00e6, hence to be convey\u2019d,\nHelen of Greece with all that is her own.\nFor charged with violated oaths we fight,\nAnd hope I none conceive that aught by us\nDesign\u2019d shall prosper, unless so be done.420\nHe spake and sat; when from his seat arose\nParis, fair Helen\u2019s noble paramour,\nWho thus with speech impassion\u2019d quick replied.\nAntenor! me thy counsel hath not pleased;\nThou could\u2019st have framed far better; but if this425\nBe thy deliberate judgment, then the Gods\nMake thy deliberate judgment nothing worth.\nBut I will speak myself. Ye Chiefs of Troy,\nI tell you plain. I will not yield my spouse.\nBut all her treasures to our house convey\u2019d430\nFrom Argos, those will I resign, and add\nStill other compensation from my own.\nThus Paris said and sat; when like the Gods\nThemselves in wisdom, from his seat uprose\nDardanian Priam, who them thus address\u2019d.435\nTrojans, Dardanians, and allies of Troy!\nI shall declare my sentence; hear ye me.\nNow let the legions, as at other times,\nTake due refreshment; let the watch be set,\nAnd keep ye vigilant guard. At early dawn440\nWe will dispatch Id\u00e6us to the fleet,\nWho shall inform the Atrid\u00e6 of this last\nResolve of Paris, author of the war.\nDiscreet Id\u00e6us also shall propose\nA respite (if the Atrid\u00e6 so incline)445\nFrom war\u2019s dread clamor, while we burn the dead.\nThen will we clash again, till heaven at length\nShall part us, and the doubtful strife decide.\nHe ceased, whose voice the assembly pleased, obey\u2019d.\nThen, troop by troop, the army took repast,450\nAnd at the dawn Id\u00e6us sought the fleet.\nHe found the Dana\u00ef, servants of Mars,\nBeside the stern of Agamemnon\u2019s ship\nConsulting; and amid the assembled Chiefs\nArrived, with utterance clear them thus address\u2019d.455\nYe sons of Atreus, and ye Chiefs, the flower\nOf all Achaia! Priam and the Chiefs\nOf Ilium, bade me to your ear impart\n(If chance such embassy might please your ear)\nThe mind of Paris, author of the war.460\nThe treasures which on board his ships he brought\nFrom Argos home (oh, had he perish\u2019d first!)\nHe yields them with addition from his own.\nNot so the consort of the glorious prince\nBrave Menelaus; her (although in Troy465\nAll counsel otherwise) he still detains.\nThus too I have in charge. Are ye inclined\nThat the dread sounding clamors of the field\nBe caused to cease till we shall burn the dead?\nThen will we clash again, till heaven at length470\nShall part us, and the doubtful strife decide.\nSo spake Id\u00e6us, and all silent sat;\nTill at the last brave Diomede replied.\nNo. We will none of Paris\u2019 treasures now,\nNor even Helen\u2019s self. A child may see475\nDestruction winging swift her course to Troy.\nHe said. The admiring Greeks with loud applause\nAll praised the speech of warlike Diomede,\nAnd answer thus the King of men return\u2019d.\nId\u00e6us! thou hast witness\u2019d the resolve480\nOf the Achaian Chiefs, whose choice is mine.\nBut for the slain, I shall not envy them\nA funeral pile; the spirit fled, delay\nSuits not. Last rites can not too soon be paid.\nBurn them. And let high-thundering Jove attest485\nHimself mine oath, that war shall cease the while.\nSo saying, he to all the Gods upraised\nHis sceptre, and Id\u00e6us homeward sped\nTo sacred Ilium. The Dardanians there\nAnd Trojans, all assembled, his return490\nExpected anxious. He amid them told\nDistinct his errand, when, at once dissolved,\nThe whole assembly rose, these to collect\nThe scatter\u2019d bodies, those to gather wood;\nWhile on the other side, the Greeks arose495\nAs sudden, and all issuing from the fleet\nSought fuel, some, and some, the scatter\u2019d dead.\nNow from the gently-swelling flood profound\nThe sun arising, with his earliest rays\nIn his ascent to heaven smote on the fields.500\nWhen Greeks and Trojans met. Scarce could the slain\nBe clear distinguish\u2019d, but they cleansed from each\nHis clotted gore with water, and warm tears\nDistilling copious, heaved them to the wains.\nBut wailing none was heard, for such command505\nHad Priam issued; therefore heaping high\nThe bodies, silent and with sorrowing hearts\nThey burn\u2019d them, and to sacred Troy return\u2019d.\nThe Grecians also, on the funeral pile\nThe bodies heaping sad, burn\u2019d them with fire510\nTogether, and return\u2019d into the fleet.\nThen, ere the peep of dawn, and while the veil\nOf night, though thinner, still o\u2019erhung the earth,\nAchaians, chosen from the rest, the pile\nEncompass\u2019d. With a tomb (one tomb for all)515\nThey crown\u2019d the spot adust, and to the tomb\n(For safety of their fleet and of themselves)\nStrong fortress added of high wall and tower,\nWith solid gates affording egress thence\nCommodious to the mounted charioteer;520\nDeep foss and broad they also dug without,\nAnd planted it with piles. So toil\u2019d the Greeks.\n\nThe Gods, that mighty labor, from beside\nThe Thunderer\u2019s throne with admiration view\u2019d,\nWhen Neptune, shaker of the shores, began.525\nEternal father! is there on the face\nOf all the boundless earth one mortal man\nWho will, in times to come, consult with heaven?\nSee\u2019st thou yon height of wall, and yon deep trench\nWith which the Grecians have their fleet inclosed,530\nAnd, careless of our blessing, hecatomb\nOr invocation have presented none?\nFar as the day-spring shoots herself abroad,\nSo far the glory of this work shall spread,\nWhile Ph\u0153bus and myself, who, toiling hard,535\nBuilt walls for king Laomedon, shall see\nForgotten all the labor of our hands.\nTo whom, indignant, thus high-thundering Jove.\nOh thou, who shakest the solid earth at will,\nWhat hast thou spoken? An inferior power,540\nA god of less sufficiency than thou,\nMight be allowed some fear from such a cause.\nFear not. Where\u2019er the morning shoots her beams,\nThy glory shall be known; and when the Greeks\nShall seek their country through the waves again,545\nThen break this bulwark down, submerge it whole,\nAnd spreading deep with sand the spacious shore\nAs at the first, leave not a trace behind.\nSuch conference held the Gods; and now the sun\nWent down, and, that great work perform\u2019d, the Greeks550\nFrom tent to tent slaughter\u2019d the fatted ox\nAnd ate their evening cheer. Meantime arrived\nLarge fleet with Lemnian wine; Euneus, son\nOf Jason and Hypsipile, that fleet\nFrom Lemnos freighted, and had stow\u2019d on board555\nA thousand measures from the rest apart\nFor the Atrid\u00e6; but the host at large\nBy traffic were supplied; some barter\u2019d brass,\nOthers bright steel; some purchased wine with hides,\nThese with their cattle, with their captives those,560\nAnd the whole host prepared a glad regale.\nAll night the Grecians feasted, and the host\nOf Ilium, and all night deep-planning Jove\nPortended dire calamities to both,\nThundering tremendous!\u2014Pale was every cheek;565\nEach pour\u2019d his goblet on the ground, nor dared\nThe hardiest drink, till he had first perform\u2019d\nLibation meet to the Saturnian King\nOmnipotent; then, all retiring, sought\nTheir couches, and partook the gift of sleep.570\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VIII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.\n\nJove calls a council, in which he forbids all interference of the Gods\nbetween the Greeks and Trojans. He repairs to Ida, where, having\nconsulted the scales of destiny, he directs his lightning against the\nGrecians. Nestor is endangered by the death of one of his horses.\nDiomede delivers him. In the chariot of Diomede they both hasten to\nengage Hector, whose charioteer is slain by Diomede. Jupiter again\ninterposes by his thunders, and the whole Grecian host, discomfited, is\nobliged to seek refuge within the rampart. Diomede, with others, at\nsight of a favorable omen sent from Jove in answer to Agamemnon\u2019s\nprayer, sallies. Teucer performs great exploits, but is disabled by\nHector. Juno and Pallas set forth from Olympus in aid of the Grecians,\nbut are stopped by Jupiter, who reascends from Ida, and in heaven\nforetells the distresses which await the Grecians.\n\nHector takes measures for the security of Troy during the night, and\nprepares his host for an assault to be made on the Grecian camp in the\nmorning.\n\n\nBOOK VIII.\n\n\nThe saffron-mantled morning[1] now was spread\nO\u2019er all the nations, when the Thunderer Jove\nOn the deep-fork\u2019d Olympian topmost height\nConvened the Gods in council, amid whom\nHe spake himself; they all attentive heard.5\nGods! Goddesses! Inhabitants of heaven!\nAttend; I make my secret purpose known.\nLet neither God nor Goddess interpose\nMy counsel to rescind, but with one heart\nApprove it, that it reach, at once, its end.10\nWhom I shall mark soever from the rest\nWithdrawn, that he may Greeks or Trojans aid,\nDisgrace shall find him; shamefully chastised\nHe shall return to the Olympian heights,\nOr I will hurl him deep into the gulfs15\nOf gloomy Tartarus, where Hell shuts fast\nHer iron gates, and spreads her brazen floor,\nAs far below the shades, as earth from heaven.\nThere shall he learn how far I pass in might\nAll others; which if ye incline to doubt,20\nNow prove me. Let ye down the golden chain[2]\nFrom heaven, and at its nether links pull all,\nBoth Goddesses and Gods. But me your King,\nSupreme in wisdom, ye shall never draw\nTo earth from heaven, toil adverse as ye may.25\nYet I, when once I shall be pleased to pull,\nThe earth itself, itself the sea, and you\nWill lift with ease together, and will wind\nThe chain around the spiry summit sharp\nOf the Olympian, that all things upheaved30\nShall hang in the mid heaven. So far do I,\nCompared with all who live, transcend them all.\nHe ended, and the Gods long time amazed\nSat silent, for with awful tone he spake:\nBut at the last Pallas blue-eyed began.35\nFather! Saturnian Jove! of Kings supreme!\nWe know thy force resistless; but our hearts\nFeel not the less, when we behold the Greeks\nExhausting all the sorrows of their lot.\nIf thou command, we, doubtless, will abstain40\nFrom battle, yet such counsel to the Greeks\nSuggesting still, as may in part effect\nTheir safety, lest thy wrath consume them all.\nTo whom with smiles answer\u2019d cloud-gatherer Jove.\nFear not, my child! stern as mine accent was,45\nI forced a frown\u2014no more. For in mine heart\nNought feel I but benevolence to thee.\nHe said, and to his chariot join\u2019d his steeds\nSwift, brazen-hoof\u2019d, and mailed with wavy gold;\nHe put on golden raiment, his bright scourge50\nOf gold receiving rose into his seat,\nAnd lash\u2019d his steeds; they not unwilling flew\nMidway the earth between and starry heaven.\nTo spring-fed Ida, mother of wild beasts,\nHe came, where stands in Gargarus[3] his shrine55\nBreathing fresh incense! there the Sire of all\nArriving, loosed his coursers, and around\nInvolving them in gather\u2019d clouds opaque,\nSat on the mountain\u2019s head, in his own might\nExulting, with the towers of Ilium all60\nBeneath his eye, and the whole fleet of Greece.\nIn all their tents, meantime, Achaia\u2019s sons\nTook short refreshment, and for fight prepared.\nOn the other side, though fewer, yet constrain\u2019d\nBy strong necessity, throughout all Troy,65\nIn the defence of children and wives\nArdent, the Trojans panted for the field.\nWide flew the city gates: forth rush\u2019d to war\nHorsemen and foot, and tumult wild arose.\nThey met, they clash\u2019d; loud was the din of spears70\nAnd bucklers on their bosoms brazen-mail\u2019d\nEncountering, shields in opposition from\nMet bossy shields, and tumult wild arose.[4]\nThere many a shout and many a dying groan\nWere heard, the slayer and the maim\u2019d aloud75\nClamoring, and the earth was drench\u2019d with blood.\nTill sacred morn[5] had brighten\u2019d into noon,\nThe vollied weapons on both sides their task\nPerform\u2019d effectual, and the people fell.\nBut when the sun had climb\u2019d the middle skies,80\nThe Sire of all then took his golden scales;[6]\nDoom against doom he weigh\u2019d, the eternal fates\nIn counterpoise, of Trojans and of Greeks.\nHe rais\u2019d the beam; low sank the heavier lot\nOf the Achaians; the Achaian doom85\nSubsided, and the Trojan struck the skies.\nThen roar\u2019d the thunders from the summit hurl\u2019d\nof Ida, and his vivid lightnings flew\nInto Achaia\u2019s host. They at the sight\nAstonish\u2019d stood; fear whiten\u2019d every cheek.[7]90\nIdomeneus dared not himself abide\nThat shock, nor Agamemnon stood, nor stood\nThe heroes Ajax, ministers of Mars.\nGerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks,\nAlone fled not, nor he by choice remain\u2019d,95\nBut by his steed retarded, which the mate\nOf beauteous Helen, Paris, with a shaft\nHad stricken where the forelock grows, a part\nOf all most mortal. Tortured by the wound\nErect he rose, the arrow in his brain,100\nAnd writhing furious, scared his fellow-steeds.\nMeantime, while, strenuous, with his falchion\u2019s edge\nThe hoary warrior stood slashing the reins,\nThrough multitudes of fierce pursuers borne\nOn rapid wheels, the dauntless charioteer105\nApproach\u2019d him, Hector. Then, past hope, had died\nThe ancient King, but Diomede discern\u2019d\nHis peril imminent, and with a voice\nLike thunder, called Ulysses to his aid.\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!110\nArt thou too fugitive, and turn\u2019st thy back\nLike the base multitude? Ah! fear a lance\nImplanted ignominious in thy spine.\nStop\u2014Nestor dies. Fell Hector is at hand.\nSo shouted Diomede, whose summons loud,115\nUlysses yet heard not, but, passing, flew\nWith headlong haste to the Achaian fleet.\nThen, Diomede, unaided as he was,\nRush\u2019d ardent to the vanward, and before\nThe steeds of the Neleian sovereign old120\nStanding, in accents wing\u2019d, him thus address\u2019d.\nOld Chief! these youthful warriors are too brisk\nFor thee, press\u2019d also by encroaching age,\nThy servant too is feeble, and thy steeds\nAre tardy. Mount my chariot. Thou shalt see125\nWith what rapidity the steeds of Troy,\nPursuing or retreating, scour the field.\nI took them from that terror of his foes,\n\u00c6neas. Thine to our attendants leave,\nWhile these against the warlike powers of Troy130\nWe push direct; that Hector\u2019s self may know\nIf my spear rage not furious as his own.\nHe said, nor the Gerenian Chief refused.\nThenceforth their servants, Sthenelus and good\nEurymedon, took charge of Nestor\u2019s steeds,135\nAnd they the chariot of Tydides both\nAscended; Nestor seized the reins, plied well\nThe scourge, and soon they met. Tydides hurl\u2019d\nAt Hector first, while rapid he advanced;\nBut missing Hector, wounded in the breast140\nEniopeus his charioteer, the son\nOf brave Theb\u00e6us, managing the steeds.\nHe fell; his fiery coursers at the sound\nStartled, recoil\u2019d, and where he fell he died.\nDeep sorrow for his charioteer o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d145\nThe mind of Hector; yet, although he mourn\u2019d\nHe left him, and another sought as brave.\nNor wanted long his steeds a charioteer,\nFor finding soon the son of Iphitus,\nBold Archeptolemus, he bade him mount150\nHis chariot, and the reins gave to his hand.\nThen deeds of bloodiest note should have ensued,\nPenn\u2019d had the Trojans been, as lambs, in Troy,\nBut for quick succor of the sire of all.\nThundering, he downward hurled his candent bolt155\nTo the horse-feet of Diomede; dire fumed\nThe flaming sulphur, and both horses drove\nUnder the axle, belly to the ground.\nForth flew the splendid reins from Nestor\u2019s hand,\nAnd thus to Diomede, appall\u2019d, he spake.160\n\nBack to the fleet, Tydides! Can\u2019st not see\nThat Jove ordains not, now, the victory thine?\nThe son of Saturn glorifies to-day\nThis Trojan, and, if such his will, can make\nThe morrow ours; but vain it is to thwart165\nThe mind of Jove, for he is Lord of all.\nTo him the valiant Diomede replied.\nThou hast well said, old warrior! but the pang\nThat wrings my soul, is this. The public ear\nIn Ilium shall from Hector\u2019s lips be told\u2014170\nI drove Tydides\u2014fearing me he fled.\nSo shall he vaunt, and may the earth her jaws\nThat moment opening swallow me alive!\nHim answer\u2019d the Gerenian warrior old.\nWhat saith the son of Tydeus, glorious Chief?175\nShould Hector so traduce thee as to call\nThee base and timid, neither Trojan him\nNor Dardan would believe, nor yet the wives\nOf numerous shielded warriors brave of Troy,\nWidow\u2019d by thy unconquerable arm.180\nSo saying, he through the fugitives his steeds\nTurn\u2019d swift to flight. Then Hector and his host\nWith clamor infinite their darts wo-wing\u2019d\nShower\u2019d after them, and Hector, mighty Chief\nMajestic, from afar, thus call\u2019d aloud.185\nTydides! thee the Dana\u00ef swift-horsed\nWere wont to grace with a superior seat,\nThe mess of honor, and the brimming cup,\nBut now will mock thee. Thou art woman now.\nGo, timorous girl! Thou never shalt behold190\nMe flying, climb our battlements, or lead\nOur women captive. I will slay thee first.\nHe ceased. Then Diomede in dread suspense\nThrice purposed, turning, to withstand the foe,\nAnd thrice in thunder from the mountain-top195\nJove gave the signal of success to Troy.\nWhen Hector thus the Trojans hail\u2019d aloud.\nTrojans and Lycians, and close-warring sons\nOf Dardanus, oh summon all your might,\nNow, now be men! I know that from his heart200\nSaturnian Jove glory and bright success\nFor me prepares, but havoc for the Greeks.\nFools! they shall find this wall which they have raised\nToo weak to check my course, a feeble guard\nContemptible; such also is the trench;205\nMy steeds shall slight it with an easy leap.\nBut when ye see me in their fleet arrived,\nRemember fire. Then bring me flaming brands\nThat I may burn their galleys and themselves\nSlaughter beside them, struggling in the smoke.[8]210\nHe spake, and thus encouraged next his steeds.\nXanthus! Podargus! and ye generous pair\n\u00c6thon and glossy Lampus! now requite\nMine, and the bounty of Andromache,\nFar-famed E\u00ebtion\u2019s daughter; she your bowl215\nWith corn fresh-flavor\u2019d and with wine full oft\nHath mingled, your refreshment seeking first\nEre mine, who have a youthful husband\u2019s claim.[9]\nNow follow! now be swift; that we may seize\nThe shield of Nestor, bruited to the skies220\nAs golden all, trappings and disk alike.\nNow from the shoulders of the equestrian Chief\nTydides tear we off his splendid mail,\nThe work of Vulcan.[10] May we take but these,\nI have good hope that, ere this night be spent,225\nThe Greeks shall climb their galleys and away.\nSo vaunted he, but Juno with disdain\nHis proud boast heard, and shuddering in her throne,\nRock\u2019d the Olympian; turning then toward\nThe Ocean\u2019s mighty sovereign, thus she spake.230\nAlas! earth-shaking sovereign of the waves,\nFeel\u2019st thou no pity of the perishing Greeks?\nYet Greece, in Helice, with gifts nor few\nNor sordid, and in \u00c6g\u00e6, honors thee,\nWhom therefore thou shouldst prosper. Would we all235\nWho favor Greece associate to repulse\nThe Trojans, and to check loud-thundering Jove,\nOn Ida seated he might lour alone.\nTo whom the Sovereign, Shaker of the Shores,\nIndignant. Juno! rash in speech! what word240\nHath \u2019scaped thy lips? never, with my consent,\nShall we, the powers subordinate, in arms\nWith Jove contend. He far excels us all.\nSo they. Meantime, the trench and wall between,[11]\nThe narrow interval with steeds was fill\u2019d245\nClose throng\u2019d and shielded warriors. There immew\u2019d\nBy Priameian Hector, fierce as Mars,\nThey stood, for Hector had the help of Jove.\nAnd now with blazing fire their gallant barks\nHe had consumed, but Juno moved the mind250\nOf Agamemnon, vigilant himself,\nTo exhortation of Achaia\u2019s host.\nThrough camp and fleet the monarch took his way,\nAnd, his wide robe imperial in his hand,\nHigh on Ulysses\u2019 huge black galley stood,255\nThe central ship conspicuous; thence his voice\nMight reach the most remote of all the line\nAt each extreme, where Ajax had his tent\nPitch\u2019d, and Achilles, fearless of surprise.\nThence, with loud voice, the Grecians thus he hail\u2019d.260\nOh shame to Greece! Warriors in show alone!\nWhere is your boasted prowess? Ye profess\u2019d\nVain-glorious erst in Lemnos, while ye fed\nPlenteously on the flesh of beeves full-grown,\nAnd crown\u2019d your beakers high, that ye would face265\nEach man a hundred Trojans in the field\u2014\nAy, twice a hundred\u2014yet are all too few\nTo face one Hector now; nor doubt I aught\nBut he shall soon fire the whole fleet of Greece.\nJove! Father! what great sovereign ever felt270\nThy frowns as I? Whom hast thou shamed as me?\nYet I neglected not, through all the course\nOf our disasterous voyage (in the hope\nThat we should vanquish Troy) thy sacred rites,\nBut where I found thine altar, piled it high275\nWith fat and flesh of bulls, on every shore.\nBut oh, vouchsafe to us, that we at least\nOurselves, deliver\u2019d, may escape the sword,\nNor let their foes thus tread the Grecians down!\nHe said. The eternal father pitying saw280\nHis tears, and for the monarch\u2019s sake preserved\nThe people. Instant, surest of all signs,\nHe sent his eagle; in his pounces strong\nA fawn he bore, fruit of the nimble hind,\nWhich fast beside the beauteous altar raised285\nTo Panomph\u00e6an[12] Jove sudden he dropp\u2019d.[13]\nThey, conscious, soon, that sent from Jove he came,\nMore ardent sprang to fight. Then none of all\nThose numerous Chiefs could boast that he outstripp\u2019d\nTydides, urging forth beyond the foss290\nHis rapid steeds, and rushing to the war.\nHe, foremost far, a Trojan slew, the son\nOf Phradmon, Agel\u00e4us; as he turn\u2019d\nHis steeds to flight, him turning with his spear\nThrough back and bosom Diomede transpierced.295\nAnd with loud clangor of his arms he fell.\nThen, royal Agamemnon pass\u2019d the trench\nAnd Menelaus; either Ajax, then,\nClad with fresh prowess both; them follow\u2019d, next,\nIdomeneus, with his heroic friend300\nIn battle dread as homicidal Mars,\nMeriones; Ev\u00e6mon\u2019s son renown\u2019d\nSucceeded, bold Eurypylus; and ninth\nTeucer, wide-straining his impatient bow.\nHe under covert fought of the broad shield305\nOf Telamonian Ajax; Ajax high\nUpraised his shield; the hero from beneath\nTook aim, and whom his arrow struck, he fell;\nThen close as to his mother\u2019s side a child\nFor safety creeps, Teucer to Ajax\u2019 side310\nRetired, and Ajax shielded him again.\nWhom then slew Teucer first, illustrious Chief?\nOrsilochus, and Ophelestes, first,\nAnd Ormenus he slew, then D\u00e6tor died,\nChromius and Lycophontes brave in fight315\nWith Amopaon Poly\u00e6mon\u2019s son,\nAnd Melanippus. These, together heap\u2019d,\nAll fell by Teucer on the plain of Troy.\nThe Trojan ranks thinn\u2019d by his mighty bow\nThe King of armies Agamemnon saw320\nWell-pleased, and him approaching, thus began.\nBrave Telamonian Teucer, oh, my friend,\nThus shoot, that light may visit once again\nThe Dana\u00ef, and Telamon rejoice!\nThee Telamon within his own abode325\nRear\u2019d although spurious; mount him, in return,\nAlthough remote, on glory\u2019s heights again.\nI tell thee, and the effect shall follow sure,\nLet but the Thunderer and Minerva grant\nThe pillage of fair Ilium to the Greeks,330\nAnd I will give to thy victorious hand,\nAfter my own, the noblest recompense,\nA tripod or a chariot with its steeds,\nOr some fair captive to partake thy bed.\nTo whom the generous Teucer thus replied.335\nAtrides! glorious monarch! wherefore me\nExhortest thou to battle? who myself\nGlow with sufficient ardor, and such strength\nAs heaven affords me spare not to employ.\nSince first we drove them back, with watchful eye340\nTheir warriors I have mark\u2019d; eight shafts my bow\nHath sent long-barb\u2019d, and every shaft, well-aim\u2019d.\nThe body of some Trojan youth robust\nHath pierced, but still you ravening wolf escapes.\nHe said, and from the nerve another shaft345\nImpatient sent at Hector; but it flew\nDevious, and brave Gorgythion struck instead.\nHim beautiful Castianira, brought\nBy Priam from \u00c6syma, nymph of form\nCelestial, to the King of Ilium bore.350\nAs in the garden, with the weight surcharged\nOf its own fruit, and drench\u2019d by vernal rains\nThe poppy falls oblique, so he his head\nHung languid, by his helmet\u2019s weight depress\u2019d.[14]\nThen Teucer yet an arrow from the nerve355\nDispatch\u2019d at Hector, with impatience fired\nTo pierce him; but again his weapon err\u2019d\nTurn\u2019d by Apollo, and the bosom struck\nOf Archeptolemus, his rapid steeds\nTo battle urging, Hector\u2019s charioteer.360\nHe fell, his fiery coursers at the sound\nRecoil\u2019d, and lifeless where he fell he lay.\nDeep sorrow for his charioteer the mind\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d of Hector, yet he left the slain,\nAnd seeing his own brother nigh at hand,365\nCebriones, him summon\u2019d to the reins,\nWho with alacrity that charge received.\nThen Hector, leaping with a dreadful shout\nFrom his resplendent chariot, grasp\u2019d a stone,\nAnd rush\u2019d on Teucer, vengeance in his heart.370\nTeucer had newly fitted to the nerve\nAn arrow keen selected from the rest,\nAnd warlike Hector, while he stood the cord\nRetracting, smote him with that rugged rock\nJust where the key-bone interposed divides375\nThe neck and bosom, a most mortal part.\nIt snapp\u2019d the bow-string, and with numbing force\nStruck dead his hand; low on his knees he dropp\u2019d,\nAnd from his opening grasp let fall the bow.\nThen not unmindful of a brother fallen380\nWas Ajax, but, advancing rapid, stalk\u2019d\nAround him, and his broad shield interposed,\nTill brave Alaster and Mecisteus, son\nOf Echius, friends of Teucer, from the earth\nUpraised and bore him groaning to the fleet.385\nAnd now again fresh force Olympian Jove\nGave to the Trojans; right toward the foss\nThey drove the Greeks, while Hector in the van\nAdvanced, death menacing in every look.\nAs some fleet hound close-threatening flank or haunch390\nOf boar or lion, oft as he his head\nTurns flying, marks him with a steadfast eye,\nSo Hector chased the Grecians, slaying still\nThe hindmost of the scatter\u2019d multitude.\nBut when, at length, both piles and hollow foss395\nThey had surmounted, and no few had fallen\nBy Trojan hands, within their fleet they stood\nImprison\u2019d, calling each to each, and prayer\nWith lifted hands, loud offering to the Gods.\nWith Gorgon looks, meantime, and eyes of Mars,400\nHector impetuous his mane-tossing steeds\nFrom side to side before the rampart drove,\nWhen white-arm\u2019d Juno pitying the Greeks,\nIn accents wing\u2019d her speech to Pallas turn\u2019d.\nAlas, Jove\u2019s daughter! shall not we at least405\nIn this extremity of their distress\nCare for the Grecians by the fatal force\nOf this one Chief destroy\u2019d? I can endure\nThe rage of Priame\u00efan Hector now\nNo longer; such dire mischiefs he hath wrought.410\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Pallas, c\u00e6rulean-eyed.\n\u2014And Hector had himself long since his life\nResign\u2019d and rage together, by the Greeks\nSlain under Ilium\u2019s walls, but Jove, my sire,\nMad counsels executing and perverse,415\nMe counterworks in all that I attempt,\nNor aught remembers how I saved ofttimes\nHis son enjoin\u2019d full many a task severe\nBy King Eurystheus; to the Gods he wept,\nAnd me Jove sent in haste to his relief.420\nBut had I then foreseen what now I know,\nWhen through the adamantine gates he pass\u2019d\nTo bind the dog of hell, by the deep floods\nHemm\u2019d in of Styx, he had return\u2019d no more.\nBut Thetis wins him now; her will prevails,425\nAnd mine he hates; for she hath kiss\u2019d his knees\nAnd grasp\u2019d his beard, and him in prayer implored\nThat he would honor her heroic son\nAchilles, city-waster prince renown\u2019d.\n\u2019Tis well\u2014the day shall come when Jove again430\nShall call me darling, and his blue-eyed maid\nAs heretofore;\u2014but thou thy steeds prepare,\nWhile I, my father\u2019s mansion entering, arm\nFor battle. I would learn by trial sure,\nIf Hector, Priam\u2019s offspring famed in fight435\n(Ourselves appearing in the walks of war)\nWill greet us gladly. Doubtless at the fleet\nSome Trojan also, shall to dogs resign\nHis flesh for food, and to the fowls of heaven.\n\nSo counsell\u2019d Pallas, nor the daughter dread440\nOf mighty Saturn, Juno, disapproved,\nBut busily and with dispatch prepared\nThe trappings of her coursers golden-rein\u2019d.\nMeantime, Minerva progeny of Jove,\nOn the adamantine floor of his abode445\nLet fall profuse her variegated robe,\nLabor of her own hands. She first put on\nThe corslet of the cloud-assembler God,\nThen arm\u2019d her for the field of wo, complete.\nMounting the fiery chariot, next she seized450\nHer ponderous spear, huge, irresistible,\nWith which Jove\u2019s awful daughter levels ranks\nOf heroes against whom her anger burns.\nJuno with lifted lash urged on the steeds.\nAt their approach, spontaneous roar\u2019d the wide-455\nUnfolding gates of heaven; the heavenly gates\nKept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge\nOf the Olympian summit appertains,\nAnd of the boundless ether, back to roll,\nAnd to replace the cloudy barrier dense.460\nSpurr\u2019d through the portal flew the rapid steeds:\nWhich when the Eternal Father from the heights\nOf Ida saw, kindling with instant ire\nTo golden-pinion\u2019d Iris thus he spake.\nHaste, Iris, turn them thither whence they came;465\nMe let them not encounter; honor small\nTo them, to me, should from that strife accrue.\nTell them, and the effect shall sure ensue,\nThat I will smite their steeds, and they shall halt\nDisabled; break their chariot, dash themselves470\nHeadlong, and ten whole years shall not efface\nThe wounds by my avenging bolts impress\u2019d.\nSo shall my blue-eyed daughter learn to dread\nA father\u2019s anger; but for the offence\nOf Juno, I resent it less; for she475\nClashes[15] with all my counsels from of old.\nHe ended; Iris with a tempest\u2019s speed\nFrom the Id\u00e6an summit soar\u2019d at once\nTo the Olympian; at the open gates\nExterior of the mountain many-valed480\nShe stayed them, and her coming thus declared.\nWhither, and for what cause? What rage is this?\nYe may not aid the Grecians; Jove forbids;\nThe son of Saturn threatens, if ye force\nHis wrath by perseverance into act,485\nThat he will smite your steeds, and they shall halt\nDisabled; break your chariot, dash yourselves\nHeadlong, and ten whole years shall not efface\nThe wounds by his avenging bolts impress\u2019d.\nSo shall his blue-eyed daughter learn to dread490\nA father\u2019s anger; but for the offence\nOf Juno, he resents it less; for she\nClashes with all his counsels from of old.\nBut thou, Minerva, if thou dare indeed\nLift thy vast spear against the breast of Jove,495\nIncorrigible art and dead to shame.\nSo saying, the rapid Iris disappear\u2019d,\nAnd thus her speech to Pallas Juno turn\u2019d.\nAh Pallas, progeny of Jove! henceforth\nNo longer, in the cause of mortal men,500\nContend we against Jove. Perish or live\nGrecians or Trojans as he wills; let him\nDispose the order of his own concerns,\nAnd judge between them, as of right he may.\nSo saying, she turn\u2019d the coursers; them the Hours505\nReleased, and to ambrosial mangers bound,\nThen thrust their chariot to the luminous wall.\nThey, mingling with the Gods, on golden thrones\nDejected sat, and Jove from Ida borne\nReach\u2019d the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods.510\nHis steeds the glorious King of Ocean loosed,\nAnd thrust the chariot, with its veil o\u2019erspread.\nInto its station at the altar\u2019s side.\nThen sat the Thunderer on his throne of gold\nHimself, and the huge mountain shook. Meantime515\nJuno and Pallas, seated both apart,\nSpake not or question\u2019d him. Their mute reserve\nHe noticed, conscious of the cause, and said.\nJuno and Pallas, wherefore sit ye sad?\nNot through fatigue by glorious fight incurr\u2019d520\nAnd slaughter of the Trojans whom ye hate.\nMark now the difference. Not the Gods combined\nShould have constrain\u2019d _me_ back, till all my force,\nSuperior as it is, had fail\u2019d, and all\nMy fortitude. But ye, ere ye beheld525\nThe wonders of the field, trembling retired.\nAnd ye did well\u2014Hear what had else befallen.\nMy bolts had found you both, and ye had reach\u2019d,\nIn your own chariot borne, the Olympian height,\nSeat of the blest Immortals, never more.530\nHe ended; Juno and Minerva heard\nLow murmuring deep disgust, and side by side\nDevising sat calamity to Troy.\nMinerva, through displeasure against Jove,\nNought utter\u2019d, for her bosom boil\u2019d with rage;535\nBut Juno check\u2019d not hers, who thus replied.\nWhat word hath pass\u2019d thy lips, Jove most severe?\nWe know thy force resistless; yet our hearts\nFeel not the less when we behold the Greeks\nExhausting all the sorrows of their lot.540\nIf thou command, we doubtless will abstain\nFrom battle, yet such counsel to the Greeks\nSuggesting still, as may in part effect\nTheir safety, lest thy wrath consume them all.\nThen answer, thus, cloud-gatherer Jove return\u2019d.545\nLook forth, imperial Juno, if thou wilt,\nTo-morrow at the blush of earliest dawn,\nAnd thou shalt see Saturn\u2019s almighty son\nThe Argive host destroying far and wide.\nFor Hector\u2019s fury shall admit no pause550\nTill he have roused Achilles, in that day\nWhen at the ships, in perilous straits, the hosts\nShall wage fierce battle for Patroclus slain.\nSuch is the voice of fate. But, as for thee\u2014\nWithdraw thou to the confines of the abyss555\nWhere Saturn and I\u00e4petus retired,\nExclusion sad endure from balmy airs\nAnd from the light of morn, hell-girt around,\nI will not call thee thence. No. Should thy rage\nTransport thee thither, there thou may\u2019st abide,560\nThere sullen nurse thy disregarded spleen\nObstinate as thou art, and void of shame.\nHe ended; to whom Juno nought replied.\nAnd now the radiant Sun in Ocean sank,\nDrawing night after him o\u2019er all the earth;565\nNight, undesired by Troy, but to the Greeks\nThrice welcome for its interposing gloom.\nThen Hector on the river\u2019s brink fast by\nThe Grecian fleet, where space he found unstrew\u2019d\nWith carcases convened the Chiefs of Troy.570\nThey, there dismounting, listen\u2019d to the words\nOf Hector Jove-beloved; he grasp\u2019d a spear\nIn length eleven cubits, bright its head\nOf brass, and color\u2019d with a ring of gold.\nHe lean\u2019d on it, and ardent thus began.575\nTrojans, Dardanians, and allies of Troy!\nI hoped, this evening (every ship consumed,\nAnd all the Grecians slain) to have return\u2019d\nTo wind-swept Ilium. But the shades of night\nHave intervened, and to the night they owe,580\nIn chief, their whole fleet\u2019s safety and their own.\nNow, therefore, as the night enjoins, all take\nNeedful refreshment. Your high-mettled steeds\nRelease, lay food before them, and in haste\nDrive hither from the city fatted sheep585\nAnd oxen; bring ye from your houses bread,\nMake speedy purchase of heart-cheering wine,\nAnd gather fuel plenteous; that all night,\nE\u2019en till Aurora, daughter of the morn\nShall look abroad, we may with many fires590\nIllume the skies; lest even in the night,\nLaunching, they mount the billows and escape.\nBeware that they depart not unannoy\u2019d,\nBut, as he leaps on board, give each a wound\nWith shaft or spear, which he shall nurse at home.595\nSo shall the nations fear us, and shall vex\nWith ruthless war Troy\u2019s gallant sons no more.\nNext, let the heralds, ministers of Jove,\nLoud notice issue that the boys well-grown,\nAnd ancients silver-hair\u2019d on the high towers600\nBuilt by the Gods, keep watch; on every hearth\nIn Troy, let those of the inferior sex\nMake sprightly blaze, and place ye there a guard\nSufficient, lest in absence of the troops\nAn ambush enter, and surprise the town.605\nAct thus, ye dauntless Trojans; the advice\nIs wholesome, and shall serve the present need,\nAnd so much for the night; ye shall be told\nThe business of the morn when morn appears.\nIt is my prayer to Jove and to all heaven610\n(Not without hope) that I may hence expel\nThese dogs, whom Ilium\u2019s unpropitious fates\nHave wafted hither in their sable barks.\nBut we will also watch this night, ourselves,\nAnd, arming with the dawn, will at their ships615\nGive them brisk onset. Then shall it appear\nIf Diomede the brave shall me compel\nBack to our walls, or I, his arms blood-stain\u2019d,\nTorn from his breathless body, bear away.\nTo-morrow, if he dare but to abide620\nMy lance, he shall not want occasion meet\nFor show of valor. But much more I judge\nThat the next rising sun shall see him slain\nWith no few friends around him. Would to heaven!\nI were as sure to \u2019scape the blight of age625\nAnd share their honors with the Gods above,\nAs comes the morrow fraught with wo to Greece.\nSo Hector, whom his host with loud acclaim\nAll praised. Then each his sweating steeds released,\nAnd rein\u2019d them safely at his chariot-side.630\nAnd now from Troy provision large they brought,\nOxen, and sheep, with store of wine and bread,\nAnd fuel much was gather\u2019d. [16]Next the Gods\nWith sacrifice they sought, and from the plain\nUpwafted by the winds the smoke aspired635\nSavoury, but unacceptable to those\nAbove; such hatred in their hearts they bore\nTo Priam, to the people of the brave\nSpear-practised Priam, and to sacred Troy.\nBig with great purposes and proud, they sat,640\nNot disarray\u2019d, but in fair form disposed\nOf even ranks, and watch\u2019d their numerous fires,\nAs when around the clear bright moon, the stars\nShine in full splendor, and the winds are hush\u2019d,\nThe groves, the mountain-tops, the headland-heights645\nStand all apparent, not a vapor streaks\nThe boundless blue, but ether open\u2019d wide\nAll glitters, and the shepherd\u2019s heart is cheer\u2019d;[17]\nSo numerous seem\u2019d those fires the bank between\nOf Xanthus, blazing, and the fleet of Greece,650\nIn prospect all of Troy; a thousand fires,\nEach watch\u2019d by fifty warriors seated near.\nThe steeds beside the chariots stood, their corn\nChewing, and waiting till the golden-throned\nAurora should restore the light of day.655\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IX.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE NINTH BOOK.\n\nBy advice of Nestor, Agamemnon sends Ulysses, Ph\u0153nix, and Ajax to the\ntent of Achilles with proposals of reconciliation. They execute their\ncommission, but without effect. Ph\u0153nix remains with Achilles; Ulysses\nand Ajax return.\n\n\nBOOK IX.\n\n\nSo watch\u2019d the Trojan host; but thoughts of flight,\nCompanions of chill fear, from heaven infused,\nPossess\u2019d the Grecians; every leader\u2019s heart\nBled, pierced with anguish insupportable.\nAs when two adverse winds blowing from Thrace,5\nBoreas and Zephyrus, the fishy Deep\nVex sudden, all around, the sable flood\nHigh curl\u2019d, flings forth the salt weed on the shore\nSuch tempest rent the mind of every Greek.\n  Forth stalk\u2019d Atrides with heart-riving wo10\nTransfixt; he bade his heralds call by name\nEach Chief to council, but without the sound\nOf proclamation; and that task himself\nAmong the foremost sedulous perform\u2019d.\nThe sad assembly sat; when weeping fast15\nAs some deep[1] fountain pours its rapid stream\nDown from the summit of a lofty rock,\nKing Agamemnon in the midst arose,\nAnd, groaning, the Achaians thus address\u2019d.\n  Friends, counsellors and leaders of the Greeks!20\nIn dire perplexity Saturnian Jove\nInvolves me, cruel; he assured me erst,\nAnd solemnly, that I should not return\nTill I had wasted wall-encircled Troy;\nBut now (ah fraudulent and foul reverse!)25\nCommands me back inglorious to the shores\nOf distant Argos, with diminish\u2019d troops.\nSo stands the purpose of almighty Jove,\nWho many a citadel hath laid in dust,\nAnd shall hereafter, matchless in his power.30\nHaste therefore. My advice is, that we all\nFly with our fleet into our native land,\nFor wide-built Ilium shall not yet be ours.\n  He ceased, and all sat silent; long the sons\nOf Greece, o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with sorrow, silent sat,35\nWhen thus, at last, bold Diomede began.\n  Atrides! foremost of the Chiefs I rise\nTo contravert thy purpose ill-conceived,\nAnd with such freedom as the laws, O King!\nOf consultation and debate allow.40\nHear patient. Thou hast been thyself the first\nWho e\u2019er reproach\u2019d me in the public ear\nAs one effeminate and slow to fight;\nHow truly, let both young and old decide.\nThe son of wily Saturn hath to thee45\nGiven, and refused; he placed thee high in power,\nGave thee to sway the sceptre o\u2019er us all,\nBut courage gave thee not, his noblest gift.[2]\nArt thou in truth persuaded that the Greeks\nAre pusillanimous, as thou hast said?50\nIf thy own fears impel thee to depart,\nGo thou, the way is open; numerous ships,\nThy followers from Mycen\u00e6, line the shore.\nBut we, the rest, depart not, till the spoil\nOf Troy reward us. Or if all incline55\nTo seek again their native home, fly all;\nMyself and Sthenelus will persevere\nTill Ilium fall, for with the Gods we came.\n  He ended; all the admiring sons of Greece\nWith shouts the warlike Diomede extoll\u2019d,60\nWhen thus equestrian Nestor next began.\n  Tydides, thou art eminently brave\nIn fight, and all the princes of thy years\nExcell\u2019st in council. None of all the Greeks\nShall find occasion just to blame thy speech65\nOr to gainsay; yet thou hast fallen short.\nWhat wonder? Thou art young; and were myself\nThy father, thou should\u2019st be my latest born.\nYet when thy speech is to the Kings of Greece,\nIt is well-framed and prudent. Now attend!70\nMyself will speak, who have more years to boast\nThan thou hast seen, and will so closely scan\nThe matter, that Atrides, our supreme,\nHimself shall have no cause to censure _me_.\nHe is a wretch, insensible and dead75\nTo all the charities of social life,\nWhose pleasure is in civil broils alone.[3]\nBut Night is urgent, and with Night\u2019s demands\nLet all comply. Prepare we now repast,\nAnd let the guard be stationed at the trench80\nWithout the wall; the youngest shall supply\nThat service; next, Atrides, thou begin\n(For thou art here supreme) thy proper task.\nBanquet the elders; it shall not disgrace\nThy sovereignty, but shall become thee well.85\nThy tents are fill\u2019d with wine which day by day\nShips bring from Thrace; accommodation large\nHast thou, and numerous is thy menial train.\nThy many guests assembled, thou shalt hear\nOur counsel, and shalt choose the best; great need90\nHave all Achaia\u2019s sons, now, of advice\nMost prudent; for the foe, fast by the fleet\nHath kindled numerous fires, which who can see\nUnmoved? This night shall save us or destroy.[4]\n  He spake, whom all with full consent approved.95\nForth rush\u2019d the guard well-arm\u2019d; first went the son\nOf Nestor, Thrasymedes, valiant Chief;\nThen, sons of Mars, Ascalaphus advanced,\nAnd brave I\u00e4lmenus; whom follow\u2019d next\nDeipyrus, Aphareus, Meriones,100\nAnd Lycomedes, Creon\u2019s son renown\u2019d.\nSeven were the leaders of the guard, and each\nA hundred spearmen headed, young and bold.\nBetween the wall and trench their seat they chose,\nThere kindled fires, and each his food prepared.105\n  Atrides, then, to his pavilion led\nThe thronging Chiefs of Greece, and at his board\nRegaled them; they with readiness and keen\nDispatch of hunger shared the savory feast,\nAnd when nor thirst remain\u2019d nor hunger more110\nUnsated, Nestor then, arising first,\nWhose counsels had been ever wisest deem\u2019d,\nWarm for the public interest, thus began.\n  Atrides! glorious sovereign! King of men!\nThou art my first and last, proem and close,115\nFor thou art mighty, and to thee are given\nFrom Jove the sceptre and the laws in charge,\nFor the advancement of the general good.\nHence, in peculiar, both to speak and hear\nBecome thy duty, and the best advice,120\nBy whomsoever offer\u2019d, to adopt\nAnd to perform, for thou art judge alone.\nI will promulge the counsel which to me\nSeems wisest; such, that other Grecian none\nShall give thee better; neither is it new,125\nBut I have ever held it since the day\nWhen, most illustrious! thou wast pleased to take\nBy force the maid Brise\u00efs from the tent\nOf the enraged Achilles; not, in truth,\nBy my advice, who did dissuade thee much;130\nBut thou, complying with thy princely wrath,\nHast shamed a Hero whom themselves the Gods\nDelight to honor, and his prize detain\u2019st.\nYet even now contrive we, although late,\nBy lenient gifts liberal, and by speech135\nConciliatory, to assuage his ire.\n  Then answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men.\nOld Chief! there is no falsehood in thy charge;\nI have offended, and confess the wrong.\nThe warrior is alone a host, whom Jove140\nLoves as he loves Achilles, for whose sake\nHe hath Achaia\u2019s thousands thus subdued.\nBut if the impulse of a wayward mind\nObeying, I have err\u2019d, behold me, now,\nPrepared to soothe him with atonement large145\nOf gifts inestimable, which by name\nI will propound in presence of you all.\nSeven tripods, never sullied yet with fire;\nOf gold ten talents; twenty cauldrons bright;\nTwelve coursers, strong, victorious in the race;150\nNo man possessing prizes such as mine\nWhich they have won for me, shall feel the want\nOf acquisitions splendid or of gold.\nSeven virtuous female captives will I give\nExpert in arts domestic, Lesbians all,155\nWhom, when himself took Lesbos, I received\nMy chosen portion, passing womankind\nIn perfect loveliness of face and form.\nThese will I give, and will with these resign\nHer whom I took, Brise\u00efs, with an oath160\nMost solemn, that unconscious as she was\nOf my embraces, such I yield her his.\nAll these I give him now; and if at length\nThe Gods vouchsafe to us to overturn\nPriam\u2019s great city, let him heap his ships165\nWith gold and brass, entering and choosing first\nWhen we shall share the spoil. Let him beside\nChoose twenty from among the maids of Troy,\nHelen except, loveliest of all their sex.\nAnd if once more, the rich milk-flowing land170\nWe reach of Argos, he shall there become\nMy son-in-law, and shall enjoy like state\nWith him whom I in all abundance rear,\nMy only son Orestes. At my home\nI have three daughters; let him thence conduct175\nTo Phthia, her whom he shall most approve.\nChrysothemis shall be his bride, or else\nLaodice; or if she please him more,\nIphianassa; and from him I ask\nNo dower;[5] myself will such a dower bestow180\nAs never father on his child before.\nSeven fair well-peopled cities I will give\nCardamyle and Enope, and rich\nIn herbage, Hira; Pher\u00e6 stately-built,\nAnd for her depth of pasturage renown\u2019d185\nAntheia; proud \u00c6peia\u2019s lofty towers,\nAnd Pedasus impurpled dark with vines.\nAll these are maritime, and on the shore\nThey stand of Pylus, by a race possess\u2019d\nMost rich in flocks and herds, who tributes large,190\nAnd gifts presenting to his sceptred hand,\nShall hold him high in honor as a God.\nThese will I give him if from wrath he cease.\nLet him be overcome. Pluto alone\nIs found implacable and deaf to prayer,195\nWhom therefore of all Gods men hate the most.\nMy power is greater, and my years than his\nMore numerous, therefore let him yield to me.\n  To him Gerenian Nestor thus replied.\nAtrides! glorious sovereign! King of men!200\nNo sordid gifts, or to be view\u2019d with scorn,\nGivest thou the Prince Achilles. But away!\nSend chosen messengers, who shall the son\nOf Peleus, instant, in his tent address.\nMyself will choose them, be it theirs to obey.205\nLet Ph\u0153nix lead, Jove loves him. Be the next\nHuge Ajax; and the wise Ulysses third.\nOf heralds, Odius and Eurybates\nShall them attend. Bring water for our hands;\nGive charge that every tongue abstain from speech210\nPortentous, and propitiate Jove by prayer.\n  He spake, and all were pleased. The heralds pour\u2019d\nPure water on their hands;[6] attendant youths\nThe beakers crown\u2019d, and wine from right to left\nDistributed to all. Libation made,215\nAll drank, and in such measure as they chose,\nThen hasted forth from Agamemnon\u2019s tent.\nGerenian Nestor at their side them oft\nInstructed, each admonishing by looks\nSignificant, and motion of his eyes,220\nBut most Ulysses, to omit no means\nBy which Achilles likeliest might be won.\nAlong the margin of the sounding deep\nThey pass\u2019d, to Neptune, compasser of earth,\nPreferring vows ardent with numerous prayers,225\nThat they might sway with ease the mighty mind\nOf fierce \u00c6acides. And now they reach\u2019d\nThe station where his Myrmidons abode.\nHim solacing they found his heart with notes\nStruck from his silver-framed harmonious lyre;230\nAmong the spoils he found it when he sack\u2019d\nE\u00ebtion\u2019s city; with that lyre his cares\nHe sooth\u2019d, and glorious heroes were his theme.[7]\nPatroclus silent sat, and he alone,\nBefore him, on \u00c6acides intent,235\nExpecting still when he should cease to sing.\nThe messengers advanced (Ulysses first)\nInto his presence; at the sight, his harp\nStill in his hand, Achilles from his seat\nStarted astonish\u2019d; nor with less amaze240\nPatroclus also, seeing them, arose.\nAchilles seized their hands, and thus he spake.[8]\n\n  Hail friends! ye all are welcome. Urgent cause\nHath doubtless brought you, whom I dearest hold\n(Though angry still) of all Achaia\u2019s host.245\n  So saying, he introduced them, and on seats\nPlaced them with purple arras overspread,\nThen thus bespake Patroclus standing nigh.\n  Son of Men\u00e6tius! bring a beaker more\nCapacious, and replenish it with wine250\nDiluted[9] less; then give to each his cup;\nFor dearer friends than these who now arrive\nMy roof beneath, or worthier, have I none.\n  He ended, and Patroclus quick obey\u2019d,\nWhom much he loved. Achilles, then, himself255\nAdvancing near the fire an ample[10] tray,\nSpread goats\u2019 flesh on it, with the flesh of sheep\nAnd of a fatted brawn; of each a chine.\nAutomedon attending held them fast,\nWhile with sharp steel Achilles from the bone260\nSliced thin the meat, then pierced it with the spits.\nMeantime the godlike Men\u00e6tiades\nKindled fierce fire, and when the flame declined,\nRaked wide the embers, laid the meat to roast,\nAnd taking sacred salt from the hearth-side265\nWhere it was treasured, shower\u2019d it o\u2019er the feast.\nWhen all was finish\u2019d, and the board set forth,\nPatroclus furnish\u2019d it around with bread\nIn baskets, and Achilles served the guests.\nBeside the tent-wall, opposite, he sat270\nTo the divine Ulysses; first he bade\nPatroclus make oblation; he consign\u2019d\nThe consecrated morsel to the fire,\nAnd each, at once, his savoury mess assail\u2019d.\nWhen neither edge of hunger now they felt275\nNor thirsted longer, Ajax with a nod\nMade sign to Ph\u0153nix, which Ulysses mark\u2019d,\nAnd charging high his cup, drank to his host.\n  Health to Achilles! hospitable cheer\nAnd well prepared, we want not at the board280\nOf royal Agamemnon, or at thine,\nFor both are nobly spread; but dainties now,\nOr plenteous boards, are little our concern.[11]\nOh godlike Chief! tremendous ills we sit\nContemplating with fear, doubtful if life285\nOr death, with the destruction of our fleet,\nAttend us, unless thou put on thy might.\nFor lo! the haughty Trojans, with their friends\nCall\u2019d from afar, at the fleet-side encamp,\nFast by the wall, where they have kindled fires290\nNumerous, and threaten that no force of ours\nShall check their purposed inroad on the ships.\nJove grants them favorable signs from heaven,\nBright lightnings; Hector glares revenge, with rage\nInfuriate, and by Jove assisted, heeds295\nNor God nor man, but prays the morn to rise\nThat he may hew away our vessel-heads,\nBurn all our fleet with fire, and at their sides\nSlay the Achaians struggling in the smoke.\nHorrible are my fears lest these his threats300\nThe Gods accomplish, and it be our doom\nTo perish here, from Argos far remote.\nUp, therefore! if thou canst, and now at last\nThe weary sons of all Achaia save\nFrom Trojan violence. Regret, but vain,305\nShall else be thine hereafter, when no cure\nOf such great ill, once suffer\u2019d, can be found.\nThou therefore, seasonably kind, devise\nMeans to preserve from such disast\u2019rous fate\nThe Grecians. Ah, my friend! when Peleus thee310\nFrom Phthia sent to Agamemnon\u2019s aid,\nOn that same day he gave thee thus in charge.\n\u201cJuno, my son, and Pallas, if they please,\nCan make thee valiant; but thy own big heart\nThyself restrain. Sweet manners win respect.315\nCease from pernicious strife, and young and old\nThroughout the host shall honor thee the more.\u201d\nSuch was thy father\u2019s charge, which thou, it seems,\nRemember\u2019st not. Yet even now thy wrath\nRenounce; be reconciled; for princely gifts320\nAtrides gives thee if thy wrath subside.\nHear, if thou wilt, and I will tell thee all,\nHow vast the gifts which Agamemnon made\nBy promise thine, this night within his tent.\nSeven tripods never sullied yet with fire;325\nOf gold ten talents; twenty cauldrons bright;\nTwelve steeds strong-limb\u2019d, victorious in the race;\nNo man possessing prizes such as those\nWhich they have won for him, shall feel the want\nOf acquisitions splendid, or of gold.330\nSeven virtuous female captives he will give,\nExpert in arts domestic, Lesbians all,\nWhom when thou conquer\u2019dst Lesbos, he received\nHis chosen portion, passing woman-kind\nIn perfect loveliness of face and form.335\nThese will he give, and will with these resign\nHer whom he took, Brise\u00efs, with an oath\nMost solemn, that unconscious as she was\nOf his embraces, such he yields her back.\nAll these he gives thee now! and if at length340\nThe Gods vouchsafe to us to overturn\nPriam\u2019s great city, thou shalt heap thy ships\nWith gold and brass, entering and choosing first,\nWhen we shall share the spoil; and shalt beside\nChoose twenty from among the maids of Troy,345\nHelen except, loveliest of all their sex.\nAnd if once more the rich milk-flowing land\nWe reach of Argos, thou shalt there become\nHis son-in-law, and shalt enjoy like state\nWith him, whom he in all abundance rears,350\nHis only son Orestes. In his house\nHe hath three daughters; thou may\u2019st home conduct\nTo Phthia, her whom thou shalt most approve.\nChrysothemis shall be thy bride; or else\nLaodice; or if she please thee more355\nIphianassa; and from thee he asks\nNo dower; himself will such a dower bestow\nAs never father on his child before.\nSeven fair well-peopled cities will he give;\nCardamyle and Enope; and rich360\nIn herbage, Hira; Pher\u00e6 stately-built,\nAnd for her depth of pasturage renown\u2019d,\nAntheia; proud \u00c6peia\u2019s lofty towers,\nAnd Pedasus impurpled dark with vines.\nAll these are maritime, and on the shore365\nThey stand of Pylus, by a race possess\u2019d\nMost rich in flocks and herds, who tribute large\nAnd gifts presenting to thy sceptred hand,\nShall hold thee high in honor as a God.\nThese will he give thee, if thy wrath subside.370\n  But should\u2019st thou rather in thine heart the more\nBoth Agamemnon and his gifts detest,\nYet oh compassionate the afflicted host\nPrepared to adore thee. Thou shalt win renown\nAmong the Grecians that shall never die.375\nNow strike at Hector. He is here;\u2014himself\nProvokes thee forth; madness is in his heart,\nAnd in his rage he glories that our ships\nHave hither brought no Grecian brave as he.\n  Then thus Achilles matchless in the race.380\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\nI must with plainness speak my fixt resolve\nUnalterable; lest I hear from each\nThe same long murmur\u2019d melancholy tale.\nFor I abhor the man, not more the gates385\nOf hell itself, whose words belie his heart.\nSo shall not mine. My judgment undisguised\nIs this; that neither Agamemnon me\nNor all the Greeks shall move; for ceaseless toil\nWins here no thanks; one recompense awaits390\nThe sedentary and the most alert,\nThe brave and base in equal honor stand,\nAnd drones and heroes fall unwept alike.\nI after all my labors, who exposed\nMy life continual in the field, have earn\u2019d395\nNo very sumptuous prize. As the poor bird\nGives to her unfledged brood a morsel gain\u2019d\nAfter long search, though wanting it herself,\nSo I have worn out many sleepless nights,\nAnd waded deep through many a bloody day400\nIn battle for their wives.[12] I have destroy\u2019d\nTwelve cities with my fleet, and twelve, save one,\nOn foot contending in the fields of Troy.\nFrom all these cities, precious spoils I took\nAbundant, and to Agamemnon\u2019s hand405\nGave all the treasure. He within his ships\nAbode the while, and having all received,\nLittle distributed, and much retained;\nHe gave, however, to the Kings and Chiefs\nA portion, and they keep it. Me alone410\nOf all the Grecian host he hath despoil\u2019d;\nMy bride, my soul\u2019s delight is in his hands,\nAnd let him, couch\u2019d with her, enjoy his fill\nOf dalliance. What sufficient cause, what need\nHave the Achaians to contend with Troy?415\nWhy hath Atrides gather\u2019d such a host,\nAnd led them hither? Was\u2019t not for the sake\nOf beauteous Helen? And of all mankind\nCan none be found who love their proper wives\nBut the Atrid\u00e6? There is no good man420\nWho loves not, guards not, and with care provides\nFor his own wife, and, though in battle won,\nI loved the fair Brise\u00efs at my heart.\nBut having dispossess\u2019d me of my prize\nSo foully, let him not essay me now,425\nFor I am warn\u2019d, and he shall not prevail.\nWith thee and with thy peers let him advise,\nUlysses! how the fleet may likeliest \u2019scape\nYon hostile fires; full many an arduous task\nHe hath accomplished without aid of mine;430\nSo hath he now this rampart and the trench\nWhich he hath digg\u2019d around it, and with stakes\nPlanted contiguous\u2014puny barriers all\nTo hero-slaughtering Hector\u2019s force opposed.\nWhile I the battle waged, present myself435\nAmong the Achaians, Hector never fought\nFar from his walls, but to the Sc\u00e6an gate\nAdvancing and the beech-tree, there remain\u2019d.\nOnce, on that spot he met me, and my arm\nEscaped with difficulty even there.440\nBut, since I feel myself not now inclined\nTo fight with noble Hector, yielding first\nTo Jove due worship, and to all the Gods,\nTo-morrow will I launch, and give my ships\nTheir lading. Look thou forth at early dawn,445\nAnd, if such spectacle delight thee aught,\nThou shalt behold me cleaving with my prows\nThe waves of Hellespont, and all my crews\nOf lusty rowers active in their task.\nSo shall I reach (if Ocean\u2019s mighty God450\nProsper my passage) Phthia the deep-soil\u2019d\nOn the third day. I have possessions there,\nWhich hither roaming in an evil hour\nI left abundant. I shall also hence\nConvey much treasure, gold and burnish\u2019d brass,455\nAnd glittering steel, and women passing fair\nMy portion of the spoils. But he, your King,\nThe prize he gave, himself resumed,\nAnd taunted at me. Tell him my reply,\nAnd tell it him aloud, that other Greeks460\nMay indignation feel like me, if arm\u2019d\nAlways in impudence, he seek to wrong\nThem also. Let him not henceforth presume,\nCanine and hard in aspect though he be,\nTo look me in the face. I will not share465\nHis counsels, neither will I aid his works.\nLet it suffice him, that he wrong\u2019d me once,\nDeceived me once, henceforth his glozing arts\nAre lost on me. But let him rot in peace\nCrazed as he is, and by the stroke of Jove470\nInfatuate. I detest his gifts, and him\nSo honor as the thing which most I scorn.\nAnd would he give me twenty times the worth\nOf this his offer, all the treasured heaps\nWhich he possesses, or shall yet possess,475\nAll that Orchomenos within her walls,\nAnd all that opulent Egyptian Thebes\nReceives, the city with a hundred gates,\nWhence twenty thousand chariots rush to war,\nAnd would he give me riches as the sands,480\nAnd as the dust of earth, no gifts from him\nShould soothe me, till my soul were first avenged\nFor all the offensive license of his tongue.\nI will not wed the daughter of your Chief,\nOf Agamemnon. Could she vie in charms485\nWith golden Venus, had she all the skill\nOf blue-eyed Pallas, even so endow\u2019d\nShe were no bride for me. No. He may choose\nFrom the Achaians some superior Prince,\nOne more her equal. Peleus, if the Gods490\nPreserve me, and I safe arrive at home,\nHimself, ere long, shall mate me with a bride.\nIn Hellas and in Phthia may be found\nFair damsels many, daughters of the Chiefs\nWho guard our cities; I may choose of them,495\nAnd make the loveliest of them all my own.\nThere, in my country, it hath ever been\nMy dearest purpose, wedded to a wife\nOf rank convenient, to enjoy in peace\nSuch wealth as ancient Peleus hath acquired.500\nFor life, in my account, surpasses far\nIn value all the treasures which report\nAscribed to populous Ilium, ere the Greeks\nArrived, and while the city yet had peace;\nThose also which Apollo\u2019s marble shrine505\nIn rocky Pytho boasts. Fat flocks and beeves\nMay be by force obtain\u2019d, tripods and steeds\nAre bought or won, but if the breath of man\nOnce overpass its bounds, no force arrests\nOr may constrain the unbodied spirit back.510\nMe, as my silver-footed mother speaks\nThetis, a twofold consummation waits.\nIf still with battle I encompass Troy,\nI win immortal glory, but all hope\nRenounce of my return. If I return515\nTo my beloved country, I renounce\nThe illustrious meed of glory, but obtain\nSecure and long immunity from death.\nAnd truly I would recommend to all\nTo voyage homeward, for the fall as yet520\nYe shall not see of Ilium\u2019s lofty towers,\nFor that the Thunderer with uplifted arm\nProtects her, and her courage hath revived.\nBear ye mine answer back, as is the part\nOf good ambassadors, that they may frame525\nSome likelier plan, by which both fleet and host\nMay be preserved; for, my resentment still\nBurning, this project is but premature.\nLet Ph\u0153nix stay with us, and sleep this night\nWithin my tent, that, if he so incline,530\nHe may to-morrow in my fleet embark,\nAnd hence attend me; but I leave him free.\n  He ended; they astonish\u2019d at his tone\n(For vehement he spake) sat silent all,\nTill Ph\u0153nix, aged warrior, at the last535\nGush\u2019d into tears (for dread his heart o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d\nLest the whole fleet should perish) and replied.\n  If thou indeed have purposed to return,\nNoble Achilles! and such wrath retain\u2019st\nThat thou art altogether fixt to leave540\nThe fleet a prey to desolating fires,\nHow then, my son! shall I at Troy abide\nForlorn of thee? When Peleus, hoary Chief,\nSent thee to Agamemnon, yet a child,[13]\nUnpractised in destructive fight, nor less545\nOf councils ignorant, the schools in which\nGreat minds are form\u2019d, he bade me to the war\nAttend thee forth, that I might teach thee all,\nBoth elocution and address in arms.\nMe therefore shalt thou not with my consent550\nLeave here, my son! no, not would Jove himself\nPromise me, reaping smooth this silver beard,\nTo make me downy-cheek\u2019d as in my youth;\nSuch as when erst from Hellas beauty-famed\nI fled, escaping from my father\u2019s wrath555\nAmyntor, son of Ormenus, who loved\nA beauteous concubine, and for her sake\nDespised his wife and persecuted me.\nMy mother suppliant at my knees, with prayer\nPerpetual importuned me to embrace560\nThe damsel first, that she might loathe my sire.\nI did so; and my father soon possess\u2019d\nWith hot suspicion of the fact, let loose\nA storm of imprecation, in his rage\nInvoking all the Furies to forbid565\nThat ever son of mine should press his knees.\nTartarian Jove[14] and dread Persephone\nFulfill\u2019d his curses; with my pointed spear\nI would have pierced his heart, but that my wrath\nSome Deity assuaged, suggesting oft570\nWhat shame and obloquy I should incur,\nKnown as a parricide through all the land.\nAt length, so treated, I resolved to dwell\nNo longer in his house. My friends, indeed,\nAnd all my kindred compass\u2019d me around575\nWith much entreaty, wooing me to stay;\nOxen and sheep they slaughter\u2019d, many a plump\nWell-fatted brawn extended in the flames,\nAnd drank the old man\u2019s vessels to the lees.\nNine nights continual at my side they slept,580\nWhile others watch\u2019d by turns, nor were the fires\nExtinguish\u2019d ever, one, beneath the porch\nOf the barr\u2019d hall, and one that from within\nThe vestibule illumed my chamber door.\nBut when the tenth dark night at length arrived,585\nSudden the chamber doors bursting I flew\nThat moment forth, and unperceived alike\nBy guards and menial woman, leap\u2019d the wall.\nThrough spacious Hellas flying thence afar,\nI came at length to Phthia the deep-soil\u2019d,590\nMother of flocks, and to the royal house\nOf Peleus; Peleus with a willing heart\nReceiving, loved me as a father loves\nHis only son, the son of his old age,\nInheritor of all his large demesnes.595\nHe made me rich; placed under my control\nA populous realm, and on the skirts I dwelt\nOf Phthia, ruling the Dolopian race.\nThee from my soul, thou semblance of the Gods,\nI loved, and all illustrious as thou art,600\nAchilles! such I made thee. For with me,\nMe only, would\u2019st thou forth to feast abroad,\nNor would\u2019st thou taste thy food at home, till first\nI placed thee on my knees, with my own hand\nThy viands carved and fed thee, and the wine605\nHeld to thy lips; and many a time, in fits\nOf infant frowardness, the purple juice\nRejecting thou hast deluged all my vest,\nAnd fill\u2019d my bosom. Oh, I have endured\nMuch, and have also much perform\u2019d for thee,610\nThus purposing, that since the Gods vouchsaf\u2019d\nNo son to me, thyself shouldst be my son,\nGodlike Achilles! who shouldst screen perchance\nFrom a foul fate my else unshelter\u2019d age.\nAchilles! bid thy mighty spirit down.615\nThou shouldst not be thus merciless; the Gods,\nAlthough more honorable, and in power\nAnd virtue thy superiors, are themselves\nYet placable; and if a mortal man\nOffend them by transgression of their laws,620\nLibation, incense, sacrifice, and prayer,\nIn meekness offer\u2019d turn their wrath away.\nPrayers are Jove\u2019s daughters,[15] wrinkled,[16] lame, slant-eyed,\nWhich though far distant, yet with constant pace\nFollow Offence. Offence, robust of limb,625\nAnd treading firm the ground, outstrips them all,\nAnd over all the earth before them runs\nHurtful to man. They, following, heal the hurt.\nReceived respectfully when they approach,\nThey help us, and our prayers hear in return.630\nBut if we slight, and with obdurate heart\nResist them, to Saturnian Jove they cry\nAgainst us, supplicating that Offence\nMay cleave to us for vengeance of the wrong.\nThou, therefore, O Achilles! honor yield635\nTo Jove\u2019s own daughters, vanquished, as the brave\nHave ofttimes been, by honor paid to thee.\nFor came not Agamemnon as he comes\nWith gifts in hand, and promises of more\nHereafter; burn\u2019d his anger still the same,640\nI would not move thee to renounce thy own,\nAnd to assist us, howsoe\u2019er distress\u2019d.\nBut now, not only are his present gifts\nMost liberal, and his promises of more\nSuch also, but these Princes he hath sent645\nCharged with entreaties, thine especial friends,\nAnd chosen for that cause, from all the host.\nSlight not their embassy, nor put to shame\nTheir intercession. We confess that once\nThy wrath was unreprovable and just.650\nThus we have heard the heroes of old times\nApplauded oft, whose anger, though intense,\nYet left them open to the gentle sway\nOf reason and conciliatory gifts.\nI recollect an ancient history,655\nWhich, since all here are friends, I will relate.\nThe brave \u00c6tolians and Curetes met\nBeneath the walls of Calydon, and fought\nWith mutual slaughter; the \u00c6tolian powers\nIn the defence of Calydon the fair,660\nAnd the Curetes bent to lay it waste:\nThat strife Diana of the golden throne\nKindled between them, with resentment fired\nThat Oeneus had not in some fertile spot\nThe first fruits of his harvest set apart665\nTo her; with hecatombs he entertained\nAll the Divinities of heaven beside,\nAnd her alone, daughter of Jove supreme,\nOr through forgetfulness, or some neglect,\nServed not; omission careless and profane!670\nShe, progeny of Jove, Goddess shaft-arm\u2019d,\nA savage boar bright-tusk\u2019d in anger sent,\nWhich haunting Oeneus\u2019 fields much havoc made.\nTrees numerous on the earth in heaps he cast\nUprooting them, with all their blossoms on.675\nBut Meleager, Oeneus\u2019 son, at length\nSlew him, the hunters gathering and the hounds\nOf numerous cities; for a boar so vast\nMight not be vanquish\u2019d by the power of few,\nAnd many to their funeral piles he sent.680\nThen raised Diana clamorous dispute,\nAnd contest hot between them, all alike,\nCuretes and \u00c6tolians fierce in arms\nThe boar\u2019s head claiming, and his bristly hide.\nSo long as warlike Meleager fought,685\n\u00c6tolia prosper\u2019d, nor with all their powers\nCould the Curetes stand before the walls.\nBut when resentment once had fired the heart\nOf Meleager, which hath tumult oft\nExcited in the breasts of wisest men,690\n(For his own mother had his wrath provoked\nAlth\u00e6a) thenceforth with his wedded wife\nHe dwelt, fair Cleopatra, close retired.\nShe was Marpessa\u2019s daughter, whom she bore\nTo Idas, bravest warrior in his day695\nOf all on earth. He fear\u2019d not \u2019gainst the King\nHimself Apollo, for the lovely nymph\nMarpessa\u2019s sake, his spouse, to bend his bow.\nHer, therefore, Idas and Marpessa named\nThenceforth Alcyone, because the fate700\nOf sad Alcyone Marpessa shared,\nAnd wept like her, by Ph\u0153bus forced away.\nThus Meleager, tortured with the pangs\nOf wrath indulged, with Cleopatra dwelt,\nVex\u2019d that his mother cursed him; for, with grief705\nFrantic, his mother importuned the Gods\nTo avenge her slaughter\u2019d brothers[17] on his head.\nOft would she smite the earth, while on her knees\nSeated, she fill\u2019d her bosom with her tears,\nAnd call\u2019d on Pluto and dread Proserpine710\nTo slay her son; nor vain was that request,\nBut by implacable Erynnis heard\nRoaming the shades of Erebus. Ere long\nThe tumult and the deafening din of war\nRoar\u2019d at the gates, and all the batter\u2019d towers715\nResounded. Then the elders of the town\nDispatch\u2019d the high-priests of the Gods to plead\nWith Meleager for his instant aid,\nWith strong assurances of rich reward.\nWhere Calydon afforded fattest soil720\nThey bade him choose to his own use a farm\nOf fifty measured acres, vineyard half,\nAnd half of land commodious for the plow.\nHim Oeneus also, warrior grey with age,\nAscending to his chamber, and his doors725\nSmiting importunate, with earnest prayers\nAssay\u2019d to soften, kneeling to his son.\nNor less his sisters woo\u2019d him to relent,\nNor less his mother; but in vain; he grew\nStill more obdurate. His companions last,730\nThe most esteem\u2019d and dearest of his friends,\nThe same suit urged, yet he persisted still\nRelentless, nor could even they prevail.\nBut when the battle shook his chamber-doors\nAnd the Curetes climbing the high towers735\nHad fired the spacious city, then with tears\nThe beauteous Cleopatra, and with prayers\nAssail\u2019d him; in his view she set the woes\nNumberless of a city storm\u2019d\u2014the men\nSlaughter\u2019d, the city burnt to dust, the chaste740\nMatrons with all their children dragg\u2019d away.\nThat dread recital roused him, and at length\nIssuing, he put his radiant armor on.\nThus Meleager, gratifying first\nHis own resentment from a fatal day745\nSaved the \u00c6tolians, who the promised gift\nRefused him, and his toils found no reward.\nBut thou, my son, be wiser; follow thou\nNo demon who would tempt thee to a course\nLike his; occasion more propitious far750\nSmiles on thee now, than if the fleet were fired.\nCome, while by gifts invited, and receive\nFrom all the host, the honors of a God;\nFor shouldst thou, by no gifts induced, at last\nEnter the bloody field, although thou chase755\nThe Trojans hence, yet less shall be thy praise.\n  Then thus Achilles, matchless in the race.\nPh\u0153nix, my guide, wise, noble and revered!\nI covet no such glory! the renown\nOrdain\u2019d by Jove for me, is to resist760\nAll importunity to quit my ships\nWhile I have power to move, or breath to draw.\nHear now, and mark me well. Cease thou from tears.\nConfound me not, pleading with sighs and sobs\nIn Agamemnon\u2019s cause; O love not him,765\nLest I renounce thee, who am now thy friend.\nAssist me rather, as thy duty bids,\nHim to afflict, who hath afflicted me,\nSo shalt thou share my glory and my power.\nThese shall report as they have heard, but here770\nRest thou this night, and with the rising morn\nWe will decide, to stay or to depart.\n  He ceased, and silent, by a nod enjoin\u2019d\nPatroclus to prepare an easy couch\nFor Ph\u0153nix, anxious to dismiss the rest775\nIncontinent; when Ajax, godlike son\nOf Telamon, arising, thus began.\n  Laertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d:\nDepart we now; for I perceive that end\nOr fruit of all our reasonings shall be none.780\nIt is expedient also that we bear\nOur answer back (unwelcome as it is)\nWith all dispatch, for the assembled Greeks\nExpect us. Brave Achilles shuts a fire\nWithin his breast; the kindness of his friends,785\nAnd the respect peculiar by ourselves\nShown to him, on his heart work no effect.\nInexorable man! others accept\nEven for a brother slain, or for a son\nDue compensation;[18] the delinquent dwells790\nSecure at home, and the receiver, soothed\nAnd pacified, represses his revenge.\nBut thou, resentful of the loss of one,\nOne virgin (such obduracy of heart\nThe Gods have given thee) can\u2019st not be appeased795\nYet we assign thee seven in her stead,\nThe most distinguish\u2019d of their sex, and add\nLarge gifts beside. Ah then, at last relent!\nRespect thy roof; we are thy guests; we come\nChosen from the multitude of all the Greeks,800\nBeyond them all ambitious of thy love.\n  To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.\nMy noble friend, offspring of Telamon!\nThou seem\u2019st sincere, and I believe thee such.\nBut at the very mention of the name805\nOf Atreus\u2019 son, who shamed me in the sight\nOf all Achaia\u2019s host, bearing me down\nAs I had been some vagrant at his door,\nMy bosom boils. Return ye and report\nYour answer. I no thought will entertain810\nOf crimson war, till the illustrious son\nOf warlike Priam, Hector, blood-embrued,\nShall in their tents the Myrmidons assail\nThemselves, and fire my fleet. At my own ship,\nAnd at my own pavilion it may chance815\nThat even Hector\u2019s violence shall pause.[19]\n  He ended; they from massy goblets each\nLibation pour\u2019d, and to the fleet their course\nResumed direct, Ulysses at their head.\nPatroclus then his fellow-warriors bade,820\nAnd the attendant women spread a couch\nFor Ph\u0153nix; they the couch, obedient, spread\nWith fleeces, with rich arras, and with flax\nOf subtlest woof. There hoary Ph\u0153nix lay\nIn expectation of the sacred dawn.825\nMeantime Achilles in the interior tent,\nWith beauteous Diomeda by himself\nFrom Lesbos brought, daughter of Phorbas, lay.\nPatroclus opposite reposed, with whom\nSlept charming Iphis; her, when he had won830\nThe lofty towers of Scyros, the divine\nAchilles took, and on his friend bestow\u2019d.\n  But when those Chiefs at Agamemnon\u2019s tent\nArrived, the Greeks on every side arose\nWith golden cups welcoming their return.835\nAll question\u2019d them, but Agamemnon first.\n  Oh worthy of Achaia\u2019s highest praise,\nAnd her chief ornament, Ulysses, speak!\nWill he defend the fleet? or his big heart\nIndulging wrathful, doth he still refuse?840\n  To whom renown\u2019d Ulysses thus replied.\nAtrides, Agamemnon, King of men!\nHe his resentment quenches not, nor will,\nBut burns with wrath the more, thee and thy gifts\nRejecting both. He bids thee with the Greeks845\nConsult by what expedient thou may\u2019st save\nThe fleet and people, threatening that himself\nWill at the peep of day launch all his barks,\nAnd counselling, beside, the general host\nTo voyage homeward, for that end as yet850\nOf Ilium wall\u2019d to heaven, ye shall not find,\nSince Jove the Thunderer with uplifted arm\nProtects her, and her courage hath revived.\nThus speaks the Chief, and Ajax is prepared,\nWith the attendant heralds to report855\nAs I have said. But Ph\u0153nix in the tent\nSleeps of Achilles, who his stay desired,\nThat on the morrow, if he so incline,\nThe hoary warrior may attend him hence\nHome to his country, but he leaves him free.860\n  He ended. They astonish\u2019d at his tone\n(For vehement he spake) sat silent all.\nLong silent sat the afflicted sons of Greece,\nWhen thus the mighty Diomede began.\n  Atrides, Agamemnon, King of men!865\nThy supplications to the valiant son\nOf Peleus, and the offer of thy gifts\nInnumerous, had been better far withheld.\nHe is at all times haughty, and thy suit\nHath but increased his haughtiness of heart870\nPast bounds: but let him stay or let him go\nAs he shall choose. He will resume the fight\nWhen his own mind shall prompt him, and the Gods\nShall urge him forth. Now follow my advice.\nYe have refresh\u2019d your hearts with food and wine875\nWhich are the strength of man; take now repose.\nAnd when the rosy-finger\u2019d morning fair\nShall shine again, set forth without delay\nThe battle, horse and foot, before the fleet,\nAnd where the foremost fight, fight also thou.880\n\n  He ended; all the Kings applauded warm\nHis counsel, and the dauntless tone admired\nOf Diomede. Then, due libation made,\nEach sought his tent, and took the gift of sleep.\n\n\nThere is much in this book which is worthy of close attention. The\nconsummate genius, the varied and versatile power, the eloquence,\ntruth, and nature displayed in it, will always be admired. Perhaps\nthere is no portion of the poem more remarkable for these\nattributes.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK X.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TENTH BOOK.\n\nDiomede and Ulysses enter the Trojan host by night, and slay Rhesus.\n\n\nBOOK X.\n\n\nAll night the leaders of the host of Greece\nLay sunk in soft repose, all, save the Chief,[1]\nThe son of Atreus; him from thought to thought\nRoving solicitous, no sleep relieved.\nAs when the spouse of beauteous Juno, darts5\nHis frequent fires, designing heavy rain\nImmense, or hail-storm, or field-whitening snow,\nOr else wide-throated war calamitous,\nSo frequent were the groans by Atreus\u2019 son\nHeaved from his inmost heart, trembling with dread.10\nFor cast he but his eye toward the plain\nOf Ilium, there, astonish\u2019d he beheld\nThe city fronted with bright fires, and heard\nPipes, and recorders, and the hum of war;\nBut when again the Grecian fleet he view\u2019d,15\nAnd thought on his own people, then his hair\nUprooted elevating to the Gods,\nHe from his generous bosom groan\u2019d again.\nAt length he thus resolved; of all the Greeks\nTo seek Neleian Nestor first, with whom20\nHe might, perchance, some plan for the defence\nOf the afflicted Dana\u00ef devise.\nRising, he wrapp\u2019d his tunic to his breast,\nAnd to his royal feet unsullied bound\nHis sandals; o\u2019er his shoulders, next, he threw25\nOf amplest size a lion\u2019s tawny skin\nThat swept his footsteps, dappled o\u2019er with blood,\nThen took his spear. Meantime, not less appall\u2019d\nWas Menelaus, on whose eyelids sleep\nSat not, lest the Achaians for his sake30\nO\u2019er many waters borne, and now intent\nOn glorious deeds, should perish all at Troy.\nWith a pard\u2019s spotted hide his shoulders broad\nHe mantled over; to his head he raised\nHis brazen helmet, and with vigorous hand35\nGrasping his spear, forth issued to arouse\nHis brother, mighty sovereign of the host,\nAnd by the Grecians like a God revered.\nHe found him at his galley\u2019s stern, his arms\nAssuming radiant; welcome he arrived40\nTo Agamemnon, whom he thus address\u2019d.\n  Why arm\u2019st thou, brother? Wouldst thou urge abroad\nSome trusty spy into the Trojan camp?[2]\nI fear lest none so hardy shall be found\nAs to adventure, in the dead still night,45\nSo far, alone; valiant indeed were he!\n  To whom great Agamemnon thus replied.\nHeaven-favor\u2019d Menelaus! We have need,\nThou and myself, of some device well-framed,\nWhich both the Grecians and the fleet of Greece50\nMay rescue, for the mind of Jove hath changed,\nAnd Hector\u2019s prayers alone now reach his ear.\nI never saw, nor by report have learn\u2019d\nFrom any man, that ever single chief\nSuch awful wonders in one day perform\u2019d55\nAs he with ease against the Greeks, although\nNor from a Goddess sprung nor from a God.\nDeeds he hath done, which, as I think, the Greeks\nShall deep and long lament, such numerous ills\nAchaia\u2019s host hath at his hands sustain\u2019d.60\nBut haste, begone, and at their several ships\nCall Ajax and Idomeneus; I go\nTo exhort the noble Nestor to arise,\nThat he may visit, if he so incline,\nThe chosen band who watch, and his advice65\nGive them; for him most prompt they will obey,\nWhose son, together with Meriones,\nFriend of Idomeneus, controls them all,\nEntrusted by ourselves with that command.\n  Him answer\u2019d Menelaus bold in arms.70\nExplain thy purpose. Wouldst thou that I wait\nThy coming, there, or thy commands to both\nGiven, that I incontinent return?\n  To whom the Sovereign of the host replied.\nThere stay; lest striking into different paths75\n(For many passes intersect the camp)\nWe miss each other; summon them aloud\nWhere thou shalt come; enjoin them to arise;\nCall each by his hereditary name,\nHonoring all. Beware of manners proud,80\nFor we ourselves must labor, at our birth\nBy Jove ordain\u2019d to suffering and to toil.\n  So saying, he his brother thence dismiss\u2019d\nInstructed duly, and himself, his steps\nTurned to the tent of Nestor. Him he found85\nAmid his sable galleys in his tent\nReposing soft, his armor at his side,\nShield, spears, bright helmet, and the broider\u2019d belt\nWhich, when the Senior arm\u2019d led forth his host\nTo fight, he wore; for he complied not yet90\nWith the encroachments of enfeebling age.\nHe raised his head, and on his elbow propp\u2019d,\nQuestioning Agamemnon, thus began.\n  But who art thou, who thus alone, the camp\nRoamest, amid the darkness of the night,95\nWhile other mortals sleep? Comest thou abroad\nSeeking some friend or soldier of the guard?\nSpeak\u2014come not nearer mute. What is thy wish?\n  To whom the son of Atreus, King of men.\nOh Nestor, glory of the Grecian name,100\nOffspring of Neleus! thou in me shalt know\nThe son of Atreus, Agamemnon, doom\u2019d\nBy Jove to toil, while life shall yet inform\nThese limbs, or I shall draw the vital air.\nI wander thus, because that on my lids105\nSweet sleep sits not, but war and the concerns\nOf the Achaians occupy my soul.\nTerrible are the fears which I endure\nFor these my people; such as supersede\nAll thought; my bosom can no longer hold110\nMy throbbing heart, and tremors shake my limbs.\nBut if thy mind, more capable, project\nAught that may profit us (for thee it seems\nSleep also shuns) arise, and let us both\nVisit the watch, lest, haply, overtoil\u2019d115\nThey yield to sleep, forgetful of their charge.\nThe foe is posted near, and may intend\n(None knows his purpose) an assault by night.\n  To him Gerenian Nestor thus replied.\nIllustrious Agamemnon, King of men!120\nDeep-planning Jove the imaginations proud\nOf Hector will not ratify, nor all\nHis sanguine hopes effectuate; in his turn\nHe also (fierce Achilles once appeased)\nShall trouble feel, and haply, more than we.125\nBut with all readiness I will arise\nAnd follow thee, that we may also rouse\nYet others; Diomede the spear-renown\u2019d,\nUlysses, the swift Ajax, and the son\nOf Phyleus, valiant Meges. It were well130\nWere others also visited and call\u2019d,\nThe godlike Ajax, and Idomeneus,\nWhose ships are at the camp\u2019s extremest bounds.\nBut though I love thy brother and revere,\nAnd though I grieve e\u2019en thee, yet speak I must,135\nAnd plainly censure him, that thus he sleeps\nAnd leaves to thee the labor, who himself\nShould range the host, soliciting the Chiefs\nOf every band, as utmost need requires.\n  Him answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men.140\nOld warrior, times there are, when I could wish\nMyself thy censure of him, for in act\nHe is not seldom tardy and remiss.\nYet is not sluggish indolence the cause,\nNo, nor stupidity, but he observes145\nMe much, expecting till I lead the way.\nBut he was foremost now, far more alert\nThis night than I, and I have sent him forth\nAlready, those to call whom thou hast named.\nBut let us hence, for at the guard I trust150\nTo find them, since I gave them so in charge.[3]\n  To whom the brave Gerenian Chief replied.\nHim none will censure, or his will dispute,\nWhom he shall waken and exhort to rise.\n  So saying, he bound his corselet to his breast,155\nHis sandals fair to his unsullied feet,\nAnd fastening by its clasps his purple cloak\nAround him, double and of shaggy pile,\nSeized, next, his sturdy spear headed with brass,\nAnd issued first into the Grecian fleet.160\nThere, Nestor, brave Gerenian, with a voice\nSonorous roused the godlike counsellor\nFrom sleep, Ulysses; the alarm came o\u2019er\nHis startled ear, forth from his tent he sprang\nSudden, and of their coming, quick, inquired.165\n  Why roam ye thus the camp and fleet alone\nIn darkness? by what urgent need constrain\u2019d?\n  To whom the hoary Pylian thus replied.\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\nResent it not, for dread is our distress.170\nCome, therefore, and assist us to convene\nYet others, qualified to judge if war\nBe most expedient, or immediate flight.\n  He ended, and regaining, quick, his tent,\nUlysses slung his shield, then coming forth175\nJoin\u2019d them. The son of Tydeus first they sought.\nHim sleeping arm\u2019d before his tent they found,\nEncompass\u2019d by his friends also asleep;\nHis head each rested on his shield, and each\nHad planted on its nether point[4] erect180\nHis spear beside him; bright their polish\u2019d heads,\nAs Jove\u2019s own lightning glittered from afar.\nHimself, the Hero, slept. A wild bull\u2019s hide\nWas spread beneath him, and on arras tinged\nWith splendid purple lay his head reclined.185\nNestor, beside him standing, with his heel\nShook him, and, urgent, thus the Chief reproved.\n  Awake, Tydides! wherefore givest the night\nEntire to balmy slumber? Hast not heard\nHow on the rising ground beside the fleet190\nThe Trojans sit, small interval between?\n  He ceased; then up sprang Diomede alarm\u2019d\nInstant, and in wing\u2019d accents thus replied.\n  Old wakeful Chief! thy toils are never done.\nAre there not younger of the sons of Greece,195\nWho ranging in all parts the camp, might call\nThe Kings to council? But no curb controls\nOr can abate activity like thine.\n  To whom Gerenian Nestor in return.\nMy friend! thou hast well spoken. I have sons,200\nAnd they are well deserving; I have here\nA numerous people also, one of whom\nMight have sufficed to call the Kings of Greece.\nBut such occasion presses now the host\nAs hath not oft occurr\u2019d; the overthrow205\nComplete, or full deliverance of us all,\nIn balance hangs, poised on a razor\u2019s edge.\nBut haste, and if thy pity of my toils\nBe such, since thou art younger, call, thyself,\nAjax the swift, and Meges to the guard.210\n  Then Diomede a lion\u2019s tawny skin\nAround him wrapp\u2019d, dependent to his heels,\nAnd, spear in hand, set forth. The Hero call\u2019d\nThose two, and led them whither Nestor bade.\n  They, at the guard arrived, not sleeping found215\nThe captains of the guard, but sitting all\nIn vigilant posture with their arms prepared.\nAs dogs that, careful, watch the fold by night,\nHearing some wild beast in the woods,[5] which hounds\nAnd hunters with tumultuous clamor drive220\nDown from the mountain-top, all sleep forego;\nSo, sat not on their eyelids gentle sleep\nThat dreadful night, but constant to the plain\nAt every sound of Trojan feet they turn\u2019d.\nThe old Chief joyful at the sight, in terms225\nOf kind encouragement them thus address\u2019d.\n  So watch, my children! and beware that sleep\nInvade none here, lest all become a prey.\n  So saying, he traversed with quick pace the trench\nBy every Chief whom they had thither call\u2019d230\nAttended, with whom Nestor\u2019s noble son\nWent, and Meriones, invited both\nTo join their consultation. From the foss\nEmerging, in a vacant space they sat,\nUnstrew\u2019d with bodies of the slain, the spot,235\nWhence furious Hector, after slaughter made\nOf numerous Greeks, night falling, had return\u2019d.\nThere seated, mutual converse close they held,\nAnd Nestor, brave Gerenian, thus began.\n\n  Oh friends! hath no Achaian here such trust240\nIn his own prowess, as to venture forth\nAmong yon haughty Trojans? He, perchance,\nMight on the borders of their host surprise\nSome wandering adversary, or might learn\nTheir consultations, whether they propose245\nHere to abide in prospect of the fleet,\nOr, satiate with success against the Greeks\nSo signal, meditate retreat to Troy.\nThese tidings gain\u2019d, should he at last return\nSecure, his recompense will be renown250\nExtensive as the heavens, and fair reward.\nFrom every leader of the fleet, his gift\nShall be a sable[6] ewe, and sucking lamb,\nRare acquisition! and at every board\nAnd sumptuous banquet, he shall be a guest.255\n  He ceased, and all sat silent, when at length\nThe mighty son of Tydeus thus replied.\n  Me, Nestor, my courageous heart incites\nTo penetrate into the neighbor host\nOf enemies; but went some other Chief260\nWith me, far greater would my comfort prove,\nAnd I should dare the more. Two going forth,\nOne quicker sees than other, and suggests\nPrudent advice; but he who single goes,\nMark whatsoe\u2019er he may, the occasion less265\nImproves, and his expedients soon exhausts.\n  He ended, and no few willing arose\nTo go with Diomede. Servants of Mars\nEach Ajax willing stood; willing as they\nMeriones; most willing Nestor\u2019s son;270\nWilling the brother of the Chief of all,\nNor willing less Ulysses to explore\nThe host of Troy, for he possess\u2019d a heart\nDelighted ever with some bold exploit.\n  Then Agamemnon, King of men, began.275\nNow Diomede, in whom my soul delights!\nChoose whom thou wilt for thy companion; choose\nThe fittest here; for numerous wish to go.\nLeave not through deference to another\u2019s rank,\nThe more deserving, nor prefer a worse,280\nRespecting either pedigree or power.\n  Such speech he interposed, fearing his choice\nOf Menelaus; then, renown\u2019d in arms\nThe son of Tydeus, rising, spake again.\n  Since, then, ye bid me my own partner choose285\nFree from constraint, how can I overlook\nDivine Ulysses, whose courageous heart\nWith such peculiar cheerfulness endures\nWhatever toils, and whom Minerva loves?\nLet _him_ attend me, and through fire itself290\nWe shall return; for none is wise as he.[7]\n  To him Ulysses, hardy Chief, replied.\nTydides! neither praise me much, nor blame,\nFor these are Grecians in whose ears thou speak\u2019st,\nAnd know me well. But let us hence! the night295\nDraws to a close; day comes apace; the stars\nAre far advanced; two portions have elapsed\nOf darkness, but the third is yet entire.\n  So they; then each his dreadful arms put on.\nTo Diomede, who at the fleet had left300\nHis own, the dauntless Thrasymedes gave\nHis shield and sword two-edged, and on his head\nPlaced, crestless, unadorn\u2019d, his bull-skin casque.\nIt was a stripling\u2019s helmet, such as youths\nScarce yet confirm\u2019d in lusty manhood, wear.305\nMeriones with quiver, bow and sword\nFurnish\u2019d Ulysses, and his brows enclosed\nIn his own casque of hide with many a thong\nWell braced within;[8] guarded it was without\nWith boar\u2019s teeth ivory-white inherent firm310\nOn all sides, and with woolen head-piece lined.\nThat helmet erst Autolycus[9] had brought\nFrom Eleon, city of Amyntor son\nOf Hormenus, where he the solid walls\nBored through, clandestine, of Amyntor\u2019s house.315\nHe on Amphidamas the prize bestow\u2019d\nIn Scandia;[10] from Amphidamas it pass\u2019d\nTo Molus as a hospitable pledge;\nHe gave it to Meriones his son,\nAnd now it guarded shrewd Ulysses\u2019 brows.320\nBoth clad in arms terrific, forth they sped,\nLeaving their fellow Chiefs, and as they went\nA heron, by command of Pallas, flew\nClose on the right beside them; darkling they\nDiscern\u2019d him not, but heard his clanging plumes.[11]325\nUlysses in the favorable sign\nExulted, and Minerva thus invoked.[12]\n\n  Oh hear me, daughter of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d!\nMy present helper in all straits, whose eye\nMarks all my ways, oh with peculiar care330\nNow guard me, Pallas! grant that after toil\nSuccessful, glorious, such as long shall fill\nWith grief the Trojans, we may safe return\nAnd with immortal honors to the fleet.\n  Valiant Tydides, next, his prayer preferr\u2019d.335\nHear also me, Jove\u2019s offspring by the toils\nOf war invincible! me follow now\nAs my heroic father erst to Thebes\nThou followedst, Tydeus; by the Greeks dispatch\u2019d\nAmbassador, he left the mail-clad host340\nBeside Asopus, and with terms of peace\nEntrusted, enter\u2019d Thebes; but by thine aid\nBenevolent, and in thy strength, perform\u2019d\nReturning, deeds of terrible renown.\nThus, now, protect me also! In return345\nI vow an offering at thy shrine, a young\nBroad-fronted heifer, to the yoke as yet\nUntamed, whose horns I will incase with gold.\n  Such prayer they made, and Pallas heard well pleased.\nTheir orisons ended to the daughter dread350\nOf mighty Jove, lion-like they advanced\nThrough shades of night, through carnage, arms and blood.\n  Nor Hector to his gallant host indulged\nSleep, but convened the leaders; leader none\nOr senator of all his host he left355\nUnsummon\u2019d, and his purpose thus promulged.\n  Where is the warrior who for rich reward,\nSuch as shall well suffice him, will the task\nAdventurous, which I propose, perform?\nA chariot with two steeds of proudest height,360\nSurpassing all in the whole fleet of Greece\nShall be his portion, with immortal praise,\nWho shall the well-appointed ships approach\nCourageous, there to learn if yet a guard\nAs heretofore, keep them, or if subdued365\nBeneath us, the Achaians flight intend,\nAnd worn with labor have no will to watch.\n  So Hector spake, but answer none return\u2019d.\nThere was a certain Trojan, Dolon named,[13]\nSon of Eumedes herald of the Gods,370\nRich both in gold and brass, but in his form\nUnsightly; yet the man was swift of foot,\nSole brother of five sisters; he his speech\nTo Hector and the Trojans thus address\u2019d.\n  My spirit, Hector, prompts me, and my mind375\nEndued with manly vigor, to approach\nYon gallant ships, that I may tidings hear.\nBut come. For my assurance, lifting high\nThy sceptre, swear to me, for my reward,\nThe horses and the brazen chariot bright380\nWhich bear renown\u2019d Achilles o\u2019er the field.\nI will not prove a useless spy, nor fall\nBelow thy best opinion; pass I will\nTheir army through, till I shall reach the ship\nOf Agamemnon, where the Chiefs, perchance,385\nNow sit consulting, or to fight, or fly.[14]\n\n  Then raising high his sceptre, Hector sware\nKnow, Jove himself, Juno\u2019s high-thundering spouse!\nThat Trojan none shall in that chariot ride\nBy those steeds drawn, save Dolon; on my oath390\nI make them thine; enjoy them evermore.\n  He said, and falsely sware, yet him assured.\nThen Dolon, instant, o\u2019er his shoulder slung\nHis bow elastic, wrapp\u2019d himself around\nWith a grey wolf-skin, to his head a casque395\nAdjusted, coated o\u2019er with ferret\u2019s felt,\nAnd seizing his sharp javelin, from the host\nTurn\u2019d right toward the fleet, but was ordain\u2019d\nTo disappoint his sender, and to bring\nNo tidings thence. The throng of Trojan steeds400\nAnd warriors left, with brisker pace he moved,\nWhen brave Ulysses his approach perceived,\nAnd thus to Diomede his speech address\u2019d.\n  Tydides! yonder man is from the host;\nEither a spy he comes, or with intent405\nTo spoil the dead. First, freely let him pass\nFew paces, then pursuing him with speed,\nSeize on him suddenly; but should he prove\nThe nimbler of the three, with threatening spear\nEnforce him from his camp toward the fleet,410\nLest he elude us, and escape to Troy.\n  So they; then, turning from the road oblique,\nAmong the carcases each laid him down.\nDolon, suspecting nought, ran swiftly by.\n[15]But when such space was interposed as mules415\nPlow in a day (for mules the ox surpass\nThrough fallows deep drawing the ponderous plow)\nBoth ran toward him. Dolon at the sound\nStood; for he hoped some Trojan friends at hand\nFrom Hector sent to bid him back again.420\nBut when within spear\u2019s cast, or less they came,\nKnowing them enemies he turn\u2019d to flight\nIncontinent, whom they as swift pursued.\nAs two fleet hounds sharp fang\u2019d, train\u2019d to the chase,\nHang on the rear of flying hind or hare,425\nAnd drive her, never swerving from the track,\nThrough copses close; she screaming scuds before;\nSo Diomede and dread Ulysses him\nChased constant, intercepting his return.\nAnd now, fast-fleeting to the ships, he soon430\nHad reach\u2019d the guard, but Pallas with new force\nInspired Tydides, lest a meaner Greek\nShould boast that he had smitten Dolon first,\nAnd Diomede win only second praise.\nHe poised his lifted spear, and thus exclaim\u2019d.435\n  Stand! or my spear shall stop thee. Death impends\nAt every step; thou canst not \u2019scape me long.\n  He said, and threw his spear, but by design,\nErr\u2019d from the man. The polish\u2019d weapon swift\nO\u2019er-glancing his right shoulder, in the soil440\nStood fixt, beyond him. Terrified he stood,\nStammering, and sounding through his lips the clash\nOf chattering teeth, with visage deadly wan.\nThey panting rush\u2019d on him, and both his hands\nSeized fast; he wept, and suppliant them bespake.445\n  Take me alive, and I will pay the price\nOf my redemption. I have gold at home,\nBrass also, and bright steel, and when report\nOf my captivity within your fleet\nShall reach my father, treasures he will give450\nNot to be told, for ransom of his son.\n  To whom Ulysses politic replied.\nTake courage; entertain no thought of death.[16]\nBut haste! this tell me, and disclose the truth.\nWhy thus toward the ships comest thou alone455\nFrom yonder host, by night, while others sleep?\nTo spoil some carcase? or from Hector sent\nA spy of all that passes in the fleet?\nOr by thy curiosity impell\u2019d?\n  Then Dolon, his limbs trembling, thus replied.460\nTo my great detriment, and far beyond\nMy own design, Hector trepann\u2019d me forth,\nWho promised me the steeds of Peleus\u2019 son\nIllustrious, and his brazen chariot bright.\nHe bade me, under night\u2019s fast-flitting shades465\nApproach our enemies, a spy, to learn\nIf still as heretofore, ye station guards\nFor safety of your fleet, or if subdued\nCompletely, ye intend immediate flight,\nAnd worn with labor, have no will to watch.470\n  To whom Ulysses, smiling, thus replied.\nThou hadst, in truth, an appetite to gifts\nOf no mean value, coveting the steeds\nOf brave \u00c6acides; but steeds are they\nOf fiery sort, difficult to be ruled475\nBy force of mortal man, Achilles\u2019 self\nExcept, whom an immortal mother bore.\nBut tell me yet again; use no disguise;\nWhere left\u2019st thou, at thy coming forth, your Chief,\nThe valiant Hector? where hath he disposed480\nHis armor battle-worn, and where his steeds?\nWhat other quar4ers of your host are watch\u2019d?\nWhere lodge the guard, and what intend ye next?\nStill to abide in prospect of the fleet?\nOr well-content that ye have thus reduced485\nAchaia\u2019s host, will ye retire to Troy?\n  To whom this answer Dolon straight returned\nSon of Eumedes. With unfeigning truth\nSimply and plainly will I utter all.\nHector, with all the Senatorial Chiefs,490\nBeside the tomb of sacred Ilius sits\nConsulting, from the noisy camp remote.\nBut for the guards, Hero! concerning whom\nThou hast inquired, there is no certain watch\nAnd regular appointed o\u2019er the camp;495\nThe native[17] Trojans (for _they_ can no less)\nSit sleepless all, and each his next exhorts\nTo vigilance; but all our foreign aids,\nWho neither wives nor children hazard here,\nTrusting the Trojans for that service, sleep.500\n  To whom Ulysses, ever wise, replied.\nHow sleep the strangers and allies?\u2014apart?\nOr with the Trojans mingled?\u2014I would learn.\n  So spake Ulysses; to whom Dolon thus,\nSon of Eumedes. I will all unfold,505\nAnd all most truly. By the sea are lodged\nThe Carians, the P\u00e6onians arm\u2019d with bows,\nThe Leleges, with the Pelasgian band,\nAnd the Caucones. On the skirts encamp\nOf Thymbra, the M\u00e6onians crested high,510\nThe Phrygian horsemen, with the Lycian host,\nAnd the bold troop of Mysia\u2019s haughty sons.\nBut wherefore these inquiries thus minu4e?\nFor if ye wish to penetrate the host,\nThese who possess the borders of the camp515\nFarthest removed of all, are Thracian powers\nNewly arrived; among them Rhesus sleeps,\nSon of E\u00efoneus, their Chief and King.\nHis steeds I saw, the fairest by these eyes\nEver beheld, and loftiest; snow itself520\nThey pass in whiteness, and in speed the winds,\nWith gold and silver all his chariot burns,\nAnd he arrived in golden armor clad\nStupendous! little suited to the state\nOf mortal man\u2014fit for a God to wear!525\nNow, either lead me to your gallant fleet,\nOr where ye find me leave me straitly bound\nTill ye return, and after trial made,\nShall know if I have spoken false or true.\n\n  But him brave Diomede with aspect stern530\nAnswer\u2019d. Since, Dolon! thou art caught, although\nThy tidings have been good, hope not to live;\nFor should we now release thee and dismiss,\nThou wilt revisit yet again the fleet\nA spy or open foe; but smitten once535\nBy this death-dealing arm, thou shall return\nTo render mischief to the Greeks no more.\n  He ceased, and Dolon would have stretch\u2019d his hand\nToward his beard, and pleaded hard for life,\nBut with his falchion, rising to the blow,540\nOn the mid-neck he smote him, cutting sheer\nBoth tendons with a stroke so swift, that ere\nHis tongue had ceased, his head was in the dust.[18]\nThey took his helmet clothed with ferret\u2019s felt,\nStripp\u2019d off his wolf-skin, seized his bow and spear,545\nAnd brave Ulysses lifting in his hand\nThe trophy to Minerva, pray\u2019d and said:\n  Hail Goddess; these are thine! for thee of all\nWho in Olympus dwell, we will invoke\nFirst to our aid. Now also guide our steps,550\nPropitious, to the Thracian tents and steeds.\n  He ceased, and at arm\u2019s-length the lifted spoils\nHung on a tamarisk; but mark\u2019d the spot,\nPlucking away with handful grasp the reeds\nAnd spreading boughs, lest they should seek the prize555\nThemselves in vain, returning ere the night,\nSwift traveller, should have fled before the dawn.\nThence, o\u2019er the bloody champain strew\u2019d with arms\nProceeding, to the Thracian lines they came.\nThey, wearied, slept profound; beside them lay,560\nIn triple order regular arranged,\nTheir radiant armor, and their steeds in pairs.\nAmid them Rhesus slept, and at his side\nHis coursers, to the outer chariot-ring\nFasten\u2019d secure. Ulysses saw him first,565\nAnd, seeing, mark\u2019d him out to Diomede.\n  Behold the man, Tydides! Lo! the steeds\nBy Dolon specified whom we have slain.\nBe quick. Exert thy force. Arm\u2019d as thou art,\nSleep not. Loose thou the steeds, or slaughter thou570\nThe Thracians, and the steeds shall be my care.\n  He ceased; then blue-eyed Pallas with fresh force\nInvigor\u2019d Diomede. From side to side\nHe slew; dread groans arose of dying men\nHewn with the sword, and the earth swam with blood.575\nAs if he find a flock unguarded, sheep\nOr goats, the lion rushes on his prey,\nWith such unsparing force Tydides smote\nThe men of Thrace, till he had slaughter\u2019d twelve;\nAnd whom Tydides with his falchion struck580\nLaertes\u2019 son dragg\u2019d by his feet abroad,\nForecasting that the steeds might pass with ease,\nNor start, as yet uncustom\u2019d to the dead.\nBut when the son of Tydeus found the King,\nHim also panting forth his last, last, breath,585\nHe added to the twelve; for at his head\nAn evil dream that night had stood, the form\nOf Diomede, by Pallas\u2019 art devised.\nMeantime, the bold Ulysses loosed the steeds,\nWhich, to each other rein\u2019d, he drove abroad,590\nSmiting them with his bow (for of the scourge\nHe thought not in the chariot-seat secured)\nAnd as he went, hiss\u2019d, warning Diomede.\nBut he, projecting still some hardier deed,\nStood doubtful, whether by the pole to draw595\nThe chariot thence, laden with gorgeous arms,\nOr whether heaving it on high, to bear\nThe burthen off, or whether yet to take\nMore Thracian lives; when him with various thoughts\nPerplex\u2019d, Minerva, drawing near, bespake.600\n  Son of bold Tydeus! think on thy return\nTo yonder fleet, lest thou depart constrain\u2019d.\nSome other God may rouse the powers of Troy.\n  She ended, and he knew the voice divine.\nAt once he mounted. With his bow the steeds605\nUlysses plyed, and to the ships they flew.\n  Nor look\u2019d the bender of the silver bow,\nApollo, forth in vain, but at the sight\nOf Pallas following Diomede incensed,\nDescended to the field where numerous most610\nHe saw the Trojans, and the Thracian Chief\nAnd counsellor, Hippoco\u00f6n aroused,[19]\nKinsman of Rhesus, and renown\u2019d in arms.\nHe, starting from his sleep, soon as he saw\nThe spot deserted where so lately lay615\nThose fiery coursers, and his warrior friends\nGasping around him, sounded loud the name\nOf his loved Rhesus. Instant, at the voice,\nWild stir arose and clamorous uproar\nOf fast-assembling Trojans. Deeds they saw\u2014620\nTerrible deeds, and marvellous perform\u2019d,\nBut not their authors\u2014they had sought the ships.\n  Meantime arrived where they had slain the spy\nOf Hector, there Ulysses, dear to Jove,\nThe coursers stay\u2019d, and, leaping to the ground,625\nThe son of Tydeus in Ulysses\u2019 hands\nThe arms of Dolon placed foul with his blood,\nThen vaulted light into his seat again.\nHe lash\u2019d the steeds, they, not unwilling, flew\nTo the deep-bellied barks, as to their home.630\nFirst Nestor heard the sound, and thus he said.\n  Friends! Counsellors! and leaders of the Greeks!\nFalse shall I speak, or true?\u2014but speak I must.\nThe echoing sound of hoofs alarms my ear.\nOh, that Ulysses, and brave Diomede635\nThis moment might arrive drawn into camp\nBy Trojan steeds! But, ah, the dread I feel!\nLest some disaster have for ever quell\u2019d\nIn yon rude host those noblest of the Greeks.\n  He hath not ended, when themselves arrived,640\nBoth quick dismounted; joy at their return\nFill\u2019d every bosom; each with kind salute\nCordial, and right-hand welcome greeted them,\nAnd first Gerenian Nestor thus inquired.\n  Oh Chief by all extoll\u2019d, glory of Greece,645\nUlysses! how have ye these steeds acquired?\nIn yonder host? or met ye as ye went\nSome God who gave them to you? for they show\nA lustre dazzling as the beams of day.\nOld as I am, I mingle yet in fight650\nWith Ilium\u2019s sons\u2014lurk never in the fleet\u2014\nYet saw I at no time, or have remark\u2019d\nSteeds such as these; which therefore I believe\nPerforce, that ye have gained by gift divine;\nFor cloud-assembler Jove, and azure-eyed655\nMinerva, Jove\u2019s own daughter, love you both.\n  To whom Ulysses, thus, discreet, replied.\nNeleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks!\nA God, so willing, could have given us steeds\nSuperior, for their bounty knows no bounds.660\nBut, venerable Chief! these which thou seest\nAre Thracians new-arrived. Their master lies\nSlain by the valiant Diomede, with twelve\nThe noblest of his warriors at his side,\nA thirteenth[20] also, at small distance hence665\nWe slew, by Hector and the Chiefs of Troy\nSent to inspect the posture of our host.\n  He said; then, high in exultation, drove\nThe coursers o\u2019er the trench, and with him pass\u2019d\nThe glad Achaians; at the spacious tent670\nOf Diomede arrived, with even thongs\nThey tied them at the cribs where stood the steeds\nOf Tydeus\u2019 son, with winnow\u2019d wheat supplied.\nUlysses in his bark the gory spoils\nOf Dolon placed, designing them a gift675\nTo Pallas. Then, descending to the sea,\nNeck, thighs, and legs from sweat profuse they cleansed,\nAnd, so refresh\u2019d and purified, their last\nAblution in bright tepid baths perform\u2019d.\nEach thus completely laved, and with smooth oil680\nAnointed, at the well-spread board they sat,\nAnd quaff\u2019d, in honor of Minerva, wine\nDelicious, from the brimming beaker drawn.\n\n\nThe vividness of the scenes presented to us in this Book constitute its\nchief beauty. The reader sees the most natural night-scene in the\nworld. He is led step by step with the adventurers, and made the\ncompanion of all their expectations and uncertainties. We see the very\ncolor of the sky; know the time to a minute; are impatient while the\nheroes are arming; our imagination follows them, knows all their\ndoubts, and even the secret wishes of their hearts sent up to Minerva.\nWe are alarmed at the approach of Dolon, hear his very footsteps,\nassist the two chiefs in pursuing him, and stop just with the spear\nthat arrests him. We are perfectly acquainted with the situation of all\nthe forces, with the figure in which they lie, with the disposition of\nRhesus and the Thracians, with the posture of his chariot and horses.\nThe marshy spot of ground where Dolon is killed, the tamarisk, or\naquatic plant upon which they hung his spoils, and the reeds that are\nheaped together to mark the place, are circumstances the most\npicturesque imaginable.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XI.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE ELEVENTH BOOK.\n\nAgamemnon distinguishes himself. He is wounded, and retires. Diomede is\nwounded by Paris; Ulysses by Socus. Ajax with Menelaus flies to the\nrelief of Ulysses, and Eurypylus, soon after, to the relief of Ajax.\nWhile he is employed in assisting Ajax, he is shot in the thigh by\nParis, who also wounds Machaon. Nestor conveys Machaon from the field.\nAchilles dispatches Patroclus to the tent of Nestor, and Nestor takes\nthat occasion to exhort Patroclus to engage in battle, clothed in the\narmor of Achilles.\n\n\nBOOK XI.\n\n\nAurora from Tithonus\u2019 side arose\nWith light for heaven and earth, when Jove dispatch\u2019d\nDiscord, the fiery signal in her hand\nOf battle bearing, to the Grecian fleet.\nHigh on Ulysses\u2019 huge black ship she stood5\nThe centre of the fleet, whence all might hear,\nThe tent of Telamon\u2019s huge son between,\nAnd of Achilles; for confiding they\nIn their heroic fortitude, their barks\nWell-poised had station\u2019d utmost of the line.10\nThere standing, shrill she sent a cry abroad\nAmong the Achaians, such as thirst infused\nOf battle ceaseless into every breast.\nAll deem\u2019d, at once, war sweeter, than to seek\nTheir native country through the waves again.15\nThen with loud voice Atrides bade the Greeks\nGird on their armor, and himself his arms\nTook radiant. First around his legs he clasp\u2019d\nHis shining greaves with silver studs secured,\nThen bound his corselet to his bosom, gift20\nOf Cynyras long since;[1] for rumor loud\nHad Cyprus reached of an Achaian host\nAssembling, destined to the shores of Troy:\nWherefore, to gratify the King of men,\nHe made the splendid ornament his own.25\nTen rods of steel c\u0153rulean all around\nEmbraced it, twelve of gold, twenty of tin;\nSix[2] spiry serpents their uplifted heads\nC\u0153rulean darted at the wearer\u2019s throat,\nSplendor diffusing as the various bow30\nFix\u2019d by Saturnian Jove in showery clouds,\nA sign to mortal men.[3] He slung his sword\nAthwart his shoulders; dazzling bright it shone\nWith gold emboss\u2019d, and silver was the sheath\nSuspended graceful in a belt of gold.35\nHis massy shield o\u2019ershadowing him whole,\nHigh-wrought and beautiful, he next assumed.\nTen circles bright of brass around its field\nExtensive, circle within circle, ran;\nThe central boss was black, but hemm\u2019d about40\nWith twice ten bosses of resplendent tin.\nThere, dreadful ornament! the visage dark\nOf Gorgon scowl\u2019d, border\u2019d by Flight and Fear.\nThe loop was silver, and a serpent form\nC\u0153rulean over all its surface twined,45\nThree heads erecting on one neck, the heads\nTogether wreath\u2019d into a stately crown.\nHis helmet qu\u00e2tre-crested,[4] and with studs\nFast riveted around he to his brows\nAdjusted, whence tremendous waved his crest50\nOf mounted hair on high. Two spears he seized\nPonderous, brass-pointed, and that flash\u2019d to heaven.\nSounds[5] like clear thunder, by the spouse of Jove\nAnd by Minerva raised to extol the King\nOf opulent Mycen\u00e6, roll\u2019d around.55\nAt once each bade his charioteer his steeds\nHold fast beside the margin of the trench\nIn orderly array; the foot all arm\u2019d\nRush\u2019d forward, and the clamor of the host\nRose infinite into the dawning skies.60\nFirst, at the trench, the embattled infantry[6]\nStood ranged; the chariots follow\u2019d close behind;\nDire was the tumult by Saturnian Jove\nExcited, and from ether down he shed\nBlood-tinctured dews among them, for he meant65\nThat day to send full many a warrior bold\nTo Pluto\u2019s dreary realm, slain premature.\n  Opposite, on the rising-ground, appear\u2019d\nThe Trojans; them majestic Hector led,\nNoble Polydamas, \u00c6neas raised70\nTo godlike honors in all Trojan hearts,\nAnd Polybus, with whom Antenor\u2019s sons\nAgenor, and young Acamas advanced.\nHector the splendid orb of his broad shield\nBore in the van, and as a comet now75\nGlares through the clouds portentous, and again,\nObscured by gloomy vapors, disappears,\nSo Hector, marshalling his host, in front\nNow shone, now vanish\u2019d in the distant rear.\nAll-cased he flamed in brass, and on the sight80\nFlash\u2019d as the lightnings of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d.\nAs reapers, toiling opposite,[7] lay bare\nSome rich man\u2019s furrows, while the sever\u2019d grain,\nBarley or wheat, sinks as the sickle moves,\nSo Greeks and Trojans springing into fight85\nSlew mutual; foul retreat alike they scorn\u2019d,\nAlike in fierce hostility their heads\nBoth bore aloft, and rush\u2019d like wolves to war.\nDiscord, spectatress terrible, that sight\nBeheld exulting; she, of all the Gods,90\nAlone was present; not a Power beside\nThere interfered, but each his bright abode\nQuiescent occupied wherever built\nAmong the windings of the Olympian heights;\nYet blamed they all the storm-assembler King95\nSaturnian, for his purposed aid to Troy.\nThe eternal father reck\u2019d not; he, apart,\nSeated in solitary pomp, enjoy\u2019d\nHis glory, and from on high the towers survey\u2019d\nOf Ilium and the fleet of Greece, the flash100\nOf gleaming arms, the slayer and the slain.\n  While morning lasted, and the light of day\nIncreased, so long the weapons on both sides\nFlew in thick vollies, and the people fell.\nBut, what time his repast the woodman spreads105\nIn some umbrageous vale, his sinewy arms\nWearied with hewing many a lofty tree,\nAnd his wants satisfied, he feels at length\nThe pinch of appetite to pleasant food,[8]\nThen was it, that encouraging aloud110\nEach other, in their native virtue strong,\nThe Grecians through the phalanx burst of Troy.\nForth sprang the monarch first; he slew the Chief\nBianor, nor himself alone, but slew\nO\u00efleus also driver of his steeds.115\nO\u00efleus, with a leap alighting, rush\u2019d\nOn Agamemnon; he his fierce assault\nEncountering, with a spear met full his front.\nNor could his helmet\u2019s ponderous brass sustain\nThat force, but both his helmet and his skull120\nIt shatter\u2019d, and his martial rage repress\u2019d.\nThe King of men, stripping their corselets, bared\nTheir shining breasts, and left them. Isus, next,\nAnd Antiphus he flew to slay, the sons\nOf Priam both, and in one chariot borne,125\nThis spurious, genuine that. The bastard drove,\nAnd Antiphus, a warrior high-renown\u2019d,\nFought from the chariot; them Achilles erst\nFeeding their flocks on Ida had surprised\nAnd bound with osiers, but for ransom loosed.130\nOf these, imperial Agamemnon, first,\nAbove the pap pierced Isus; next, he smote\nAntiphus with his sword beside the ear,\nAnd from his chariot cast him to the ground.\nConscious of both, their glittering arms he stripp\u2019d,135\nFor he had seen them when from Ida\u2019s heights\nAchilles led them to the Grecian fleet.\nAs with resistless fangs the lion breaks\nThe young in pieces of the nimble hind,\nEntering her lair, and takes their feeble lives;140\nShe, though at hand, can yield them no defence,\nBut through the thick wood, wing\u2019d with terror, starts\nHerself away, trembling at such a foe;\nSo them the Trojans had no power to save,\nThemselves all driven before the host of Greece.145\nNext, on Pisandrus, and of dauntless heart\nHippolochus he rush\u2019d; they were the sons\nOf brave Antimachus, who with rich gifts\nBy Paris bought, inflexible withheld\nFrom Menelaus still his lovely bride.150\nHis sons, the monarch, in one chariot borne\nEncounter\u2019d; they (for they had lost the reins)\nWith trepidation and united force\nEssay\u2019d to check the steeds; astonishment\nSeized both; Atrides with a lion\u2019s rage155\nCame on, and from the chariot thus they sued.\n  Oh spare us! son of Atreus, and accept\nRansom immense. Antimachus our sire\nIs rich in various treasure, gold and brass,\nAnd temper\u2019d steel, and, hearing the report160\nThat in Achaia\u2019s fleet his sons survive,\nHe will requite thee with a glorious price.\n  So they, with tears and gentle terms the King\nAccosted, but no gentle answer heard.\n  Are ye indeed the offspring of the Chief165\nAntimachus, who when my brother once\nWith godlike Laertiades your town\nEnter\u2019d ambassador, his death advised\nIn council, and to let him forth no more?\nNow rue ye both the baseness of your sire.170\n  He said, and from his chariot to the plain\nThrust down Pisandrus, piercing with keen lance\nHis bosom, and supine he smote the field.\nDown leap\u2019d Hippolochus, whom on the ground\nHe slew, cut sheer his hands, and lopp\u2019d his head,175\nAnd roll\u2019d it like a mortar[9] through the ranks.\nHe left the slain, and where he saw the field\nWith thickest battle cover\u2019d, thither flew\nBy all the Grecians follow\u2019d bright in arms.\nThe scatter\u2019d infantry constrained to fly,180\nFell by the infantry; the charioteers,\nWhile with loud hoofs their steeds the dusty soil\nExcited, o\u2019er the charioteers their wheels\nDrove brazen-fellied, and the King of men\nIncessant slaughtering, called his Argives[10] on.185\nAs when fierce flames some ancient forest seize,\nFrom side to side in flakes the various wind\nRolls them, and to the roots devour\u2019d, the trunks\nFall prostrate under fury of the fire,\nSo under Agamemnon fell the heads190\nOf flying Trojans. Many a courser proud\nThe empty chariots through the paths of war\nWhirl\u2019d rattling, of their charioteers deprived;\nThey breathless press\u2019d the plain, now fitter far\nTo feed the vultures than to cheer their wives.195\n  Conceal\u2019d, meantime, by Jove, Hector escaped\nThe dust, darts, deaths, and tumult of the field;\nAnd Agamemnon to the swift pursuit\nCall\u2019d loud the Grecians. Through the middle plain\nBeside the sepulchre of Ilus, son200\nOf Dardanus, and where the fig-tree stood,\nThe Trojans flew, panting to gain the town,\nWhile Agamemnon pressing close the rear,\nShout after shout terrific sent abroad,\nAnd his victorious hands reek\u2019d, red with gore.205\nBut at the beech-tree and the Sc\u00e6an gate\nArrived, the Trojans halted, waiting there\nThe rearmost fugitives; they o\u2019er the field\nCame like a herd, which in the dead of night\nA lion drives; all fly, but one is doom\u2019d210\nTo death inevitable; her with jaws\nTrue to their hold he seizes, and her neck\nBreaking, embowels her, and laps the blood;\nSo, Atreus\u2019 royal son, the hindmost still\nSlaying, and still pursuing, urged them on.215\nMany supine, and many prone, the field\nPress\u2019d, by the son of Atreus in their flight\nDismounted; for no weapon raged as his.\nBut now, at last, when he should soon have reach\u2019d\nThe lofty walls of Ilium, came the Sire220\nOf Gods and men descending from the skies,\nAnd on the heights of Ida fountain-fed,\nSat arm\u2019d with thunders. Calling to his foot\nSwift Iris golden-pinion\u2019d, thus he spake.\n  Iris! away. Thus speak in Hector\u2019s ears.225\nWhile yet he shall the son of Atreus see\nFierce warring in the van, and mowing down\nThe Trojan ranks, so long let him abstain\nFrom battle, leaving to his host the task\nOf bloody contest furious with the Greeks.230\nBut soon as Atreus\u2019 son by spear or shaft\nWounded shall climb his chariot, with such force\nI will endue Hector, that he shall slay\nTill he have reach\u2019d the ships, and till, the sun\nDescending, sacred darkness cover all.235\n  He spake, nor rapid Iris disobey\u2019d\nStorm-wing\u2019d ambassadress, but from the heights\nOf Ida stoop\u2019d to Ilium. There she found\nThe son of royal Priam by the throng\nOf chariots and of steeds compass\u2019d about240\nShe, standing at his side, him thus bespake.\n  Oh, son of Priam! as the Gods discreet!\nI bring thee counsel from the Sire of all.\nWhile yet thou shalt the son of Atreus see\nFierce warring in the van, and mowing down245\nThe warrior ranks, so long he bids thee pause\nFrom battle, leaving to thy host the task\nOf bloody contest furious with the Greeks.\nBut soon as Atreus\u2019 son, by spear or shaft\nWounded, shall climb his chariot, Jove will then250\nEndue thee with such force, that thou shalt slay\nTill thou have reach\u2019d the ships, and till, the sun\nDescending, sacred darkness cover all.\n  So saying, swift-pinion\u2019d Iris disappear\u2019d.\nThen Hector from his chariot at a leap255\nCame down all arm\u2019d, and, shaking his bright spears,\nRanged every quarter, animating loud\nThe legions, and rekindling horrid war.\nBack roll\u2019d the Trojan ranks, and faced the Greeks;\nThe Greeks their host to closer phalanx drew;260\nThe battle was restored, van fronting van\nThey stood, and Agamemnon into fight\nSprang foremost, panting for superior fame.\n  Say now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell!\nWhat Trojan first, or what ally of Troy265\nOpposed the force of Agamemnon\u2019s arm?\nIphidamas, Antenor\u2019s valiant son,\nOf loftiest stature, who in fertile Thrace\nMother of flocks was nourish\u2019d, Cisseus him\nHis grandsire, father of Theano praised270\nFor loveliest features, in his own abode\nRear\u2019d yet a child, and when at length he reach\u2019d\nThe measure of his glorious manhood firm\nDismiss\u2019d him not, but, to engage him more,\nGave him his daughter. Wedded, he his bride275\nAs soon deserted, and with galleys twelve\nFollowing the rumor\u2019d voyage of the Greeks,\nThe same course steer\u2019d; but at Percope moor\u2019d,\nAnd marching thence, arrived on foot at Troy.\nHe first opposed Atrides. They approach\u2019d.280\nThe spear of Agamemnon wander\u2019d wide;\nBut him Iphidamas on his broad belt\nBeneath the corselet struck, and, bearing still\nOn his spear-beam, enforced it; but ere yet\nHe pierced the broider\u2019d zone, his point, impress\u2019d285\nAgainst the silver, turn\u2019d, obtuse as lead.\nThen royal Agamemnon in his hand\nThe weapon grasping, with a lion\u2019s rage\nHome drew it to himself, and from his gripe\nWresting it, with his falchion keen his neck290\nSmote full, and stretch\u2019d him lifeless at his foot.\nSo slept Iphidamas among the slain;\nUnhappy! from his virgin bride remote,\nAssociate with the men of Troy in arms\nHe fell, and left her beauties unenjoy\u2019d.295\nHe gave her much, gave her a hundred beeves,\nAnd sheep and goats a thousand from his flocks\nPromised, for numberless his meadows ranged;\nBut Agamemnon, son of Atreus, him\nSlew and despoil\u2019d, and through the Grecian host300\nProceeded, laden with his gorgeous arms.\nCo\u00f6n that sight beheld, illustrious Chief,\nAntenor\u2019s eldest born, but with dim eyes\nThrough anguish for his brother\u2019s fall. Unseen\nOf noble Agamemnon, at his side305\nHe cautious stood, and with a spear his arm,\nWhere thickest flesh\u2019d, below his elbow, pierced,\nTill opposite the glittering point appear\u2019d.\nA thrilling horror seized the King of men\nSo wounded; yet though wounded so, from fight310\nHe ceased not, but on Co\u00f6n rush\u2019d, his spear\nGrasping, well-thriven growth[11] of many a wind.\nHe by the foot drew off Iphidamas,\nHis brother, son of his own sire, aloud\nCalling the Trojan leaders to his aid;315\nWhen him so occupied with his keen point\nAtrides pierced his bossy shield beneath.\nExpiring on Iphidamas he fell\nProstrate, and Agamemnon lopp\u2019d his head.\nThus, under royal Agamemnon\u2019s hand,320\nAntenor\u2019s sons their destiny fulfill\u2019d,\nAnd to the house of Ades journey\u2019d both.\nThrough other ranks of warriors then he pass\u2019d,\nNow with his spear, now with his falchion arm\u2019d,\nAnd now with missile force of massy stones,325\nWhile yet his warm blood sallied from the wound.\nBut when the wound grew dry, and the blood ceased,\nAnguish intolerable undermined\nThen all the might of Atreus\u2019 royal son.\nAs when a laboring woman\u2019s arrowy throes330\nSeize her intense, by Juno\u2019s daughters dread\nThe birth-presiding Ilithy\u00e6 deep\nInfixt, dispensers of those pangs severe;\nSo, anguish insupportable subdued\nThen all the might of Atreus\u2019 royal son.335\nUp-springing to his seat, instant he bade\nHis charioteer drive to the hollow barks,\nHeart-sick himself with pain; yet, ere he went,\nWith voice loud-echoing hail\u2019d the Dana\u00ef.\n  Friends! counsellors and leaders of the Greeks!340\nNow drive, yourselves, the battle from your ships.\nFor me the Gods permit not to employ\nIn fight with Ilium\u2019s host the day entire.\n  He ended, and the charioteer his steeds\nLash\u2019d to the ships; they not unwilling flew,345\nBearing from battle the afflicted King\nWith foaming chests and bellies grey with dust.\nSoon Hector, noting his retreat, aloud\nCall\u2019d on the Trojans and allies of Troy.\n  Trojans and Lycians, and close-fighting sons350\nOf Dardanus! oh summon all your might;\nNow, now be men! Their bravest is withdrawn!\nGlory and honor from Saturnian Jove\nOn me attend; now full against the Greeks\nDrive all your steeds, and win a deathless name.355\n  He spake\u2014and all drew courage from his word.\nAs when his hounds bright-tooth\u2019d some hunter cheers\nAgainst the lion or the forest-boar,\nSo Priame\u00efan Hector cheer\u2019d his host\nMagnanimous against the sons of Greece,360\nTerrible as gore-tainted Mars. Among\nThe foremost warriors, with success elate\nHe strode, and flung himself into the fight\nBlack as a storm which sudden from on high\nDescending, furrows deep the gloomy flood.365\n  Then whom slew Priame\u00efan Hector first,\nWhom last, by Jove, that day, with glory crown\u2019d?\nAss\u00e6us, Dolops, Orus, Agela\u00fcs,\nAutono\u00fcs, Hippono\u00fcs, \u00c6symnus,\nOpheltius and Opites first he slew,370\nAll leaders of the Greeks, and, after these,\nThe people. As when whirlwinds of the West\nA storm encounter from the gloomy South,\nThe waves roll multitudinous, and the foam\nUpswept by wandering gusts fills all the air,375\nSo Hector swept the Grecians. Then defeat\nPast remedy and havoc had ensued,\nThen had the routed Grecians, flying, sought\nTheir ships again, but that Ulysses[12] thus\nSummon\u2019d the brave Tydides to his aid.380\n  Whence comes it, Diomede, that we forget\nOur wonted courage? Hither, O my friend!\nAnd, fighting at my side, ward off the shame\nThat must be ours, should Hector seize the fleet.\n  To whom the valiant Diomede replied.385\nI will be firm; trust me thou shalt not find\nMe shrinking; yet small fruit of our attempts\nShall follow, for the Thunderer, not to us,\nBut to the Trojan, gives the glorious day.\n  The Hero spake, and from his chariot cast390\nThymbr\u00e6us to the ground pierced through the pap,\nWhile by Ulysses\u2019 hand his charioteer\nGodlike Molion, fell. The warfare thus\nOf both for ever closed, them there they left,\nAnd plunging deep into the warrior-throng395\nTroubled the multitude. As when two boars\nTurn desperate on the close-pursuing hounds,\nSo they, returning on the host of Troy,\nSlew on all sides, and overtoil\u2019d with flight\nFrom Hector\u2019s arm, the Greeks meantime respired.400\nTwo warriors, next, their chariot and themselves\nThey took, plebeians brave, sons of the seer\nPercosian Merops in prophetic skill\nSurpassing all; he both his sons forbad\nThe mortal field, but disobedient they405\nStill sought it, for their destiny prevail\u2019d.\nSpear-practised Diomede of life deprived\nBoth these, and stripp\u2019d them of their glorious arms,\nWhile by Ulysses\u2019 hand Hippodamus\nDied and Hypeirochus. And now the son410\nOf Saturn, looking down from Ida, poised\nThe doubtful war, and mutual deaths they dealt.\nTydides plunged his spear into the groin\nOf the illustrious son of P\u00e6on, bold\nAgastrophus. No steeds at his command415\nHad he, infatuate! but his charioteer\nHis steeds detain\u2019d remote, while through the van\nHimself on foot rush\u2019d madly till he fell.\nBut Hector through the ranks darting his eye\nPerceived, and with ear-piercing cries advanced420\nAgainst them, follow\u2019d by the host of Troy.\nThe son of Tydeus, shuddering, his approach\nDiscern\u2019d, and instant to Ulysses spake.[13]\n  Now comes the storm! This way the mischief rolls!\nStand and repulse the Trojan. Now be firm.425\n  He said, and hurling his long-shadow\u2019d beam\nSmote Hector. At his helmet\u2019s crown he aim\u2019d,\nNor err\u2019d, but brass encountering brass, the point\nGlanced wide, for he had cased his youthful brows\nIn triple brass, Apollo\u2019s glorious gift.430\nYet with rapidity at such a shock\nHector recoil\u2019d into the multitude\nAfar, where sinking to his knees, he lean\u2019d\nOn his broad palm, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nBut while Tydides follow\u2019d through the van435\nHis stormy spear, which in the distant soil\nImplanted stood, Hector his scatter\u2019d sense\nRecovering, to his chariot sprang again,\nAnd, diving deep into his host, escaped.\nThe noble son of Tydeus, spear in hand,440\nRush\u2019d after him, and as he went, exclaim\u2019d.\n  Dog! thou hast now escaped; but, sure the stroke\nApproach\u2019d thee nigh, well-aim\u2019d. Once more thy prayers\nWhich ever to Apollo thou prefer\u2019st\nEntering the clash of battle, have prevail\u2019d,445\nAnd he hath rescued thee. But well beware\nOur next encounter, for if also me\nSome God befriend, thou diest. Now will I seek\nAnother mark, and smite whom next I may.\n  He spake, and of his armor stripp\u2019d the son450\nSpear-famed of P\u00e6on. Meantime Paris, mate\nOf beauteous Helen, drew his bow against\nTydides; by a pillar of the tomb\nOf Ilus, ancient senator revered,\nConceal\u2019d he stood, and while the Hero loosed455\nHis corselet from the breast of P\u00e6on\u2019s son\nRenown\u2019d, and of his helmet and his targe\nDespoil\u2019d him; Paris, arching quick his bow,\nNo devious shaft dismiss\u2019d, but his right foot\nPierced through the sole, and fix\u2019d it to the ground.460\nTransported from his ambush forth he leap\u2019d\nWith a loud laugh, and, vaunting, thus exclaim\u2019d:\n  Oh shaft well shot! it galls thee. Would to heaven\nThat it had pierced thy heart, and thou hadst died!\nSo had the Trojans respite from their toils465\nEnjoy\u2019d, who, now, shudder at sight of thee\nLike she-goats when the lion is at hand.\n  To whom, undaunted, Diomede replied.\nArcher shrew-tongued! spie-maiden! man of curls![14]\nShouldst thou in arms attempt me face to face,470\nThy bow and arrows should avail thee nought.\nVain boaster! thou hast scratch\u2019d my foot\u2014no more\u2014\nAnd I regard it as I might the stroke\nOf a weak woman or a simple child.\nThe weapons of a dastard and a slave475\nAre ever such. More terrible are mine,\nAnd whom they pierce, though slightly pierced, he dies.\nHis wife her cheeks rends inconsolable,\nHis babes are fatherless, his blood the glebe\nIncarnadines, and where he bleeds and rots480\nMore birds of prey than women haunt the place.\n  He ended, and Ulysses, drawing nigh,\nShelter\u2019d Tydides; he behind the Chief\nOf Ithaca sat drawing forth the shaft,\nBut pierced with agonizing pangs the while.485\nThen, climbing to his chariot-seat, he bade\nSthenelus hasten to the hollow ships,\nHeart-sick with pain. And now alone was seen\nSpear-famed Ulysses; not an Argive more\nRemain\u2019d, so universal was the rout,490\nAnd groaning, to his own great heart he said.\n  Alas! what now awaits me? If, appall\u2019d\nBy multitudes, I fly, much detriment;\nAnd if alone they intercept me here,\nStill more; for Jove hath scatter\u2019d all the host,495\nYet why these doubts! for know I not of old\nThat only dastards fly, and that the voice\nOf honor bids the famed in battle stand,\nBleed they themselves, or cause their foes to bleed?\n  While busied in such thought he stood, the ranks500\nOf Trojans fronted with broad shields, enclosed\nThe hero with a ring, hemming around\nTheir own destruction. As when dogs, and swains\nIn prime of manhood, from all quarters rush\nAround a boar, he from his thicket bolts,505\nThe bright tusk whetting in his crooked jaws:\nThey press him on all sides, and from beneath\nLoud gnashings hear, yet firm, his threats defy;\nLike them the Trojans on all sides assail\u2019d\nUlysses dear to Jove. First with his spear510\nHe sprang impetuous on a valiant chief,\nWhose shoulder with a downright point he pierced,\nDe\u00efopites; Tho\u00f6n next he slew,\nAnd Ennomus, and from his coursers\u2019 backs\nAlighting quick, Chersidamas; beneath515\nHis bossy shield the gliding weapon pass\u2019d\nRight through his navel; on the plain he fell\nExpiring, and with both hands clench\u2019d the dust.\nThem slain he left, and Charops wounded next,\nBrother of Socus, generous Chief, and son520\nOf Hippasus; brave Socus to the aid\nOf Charops flew, and, godlike, thus began.\n  Illustrious chief, Ulysses! strong to toil\nAnd rich in artifice! Or boast to-day\nTwo sons of Hippasus, brave warriors both,525\nOf armor and of life bereft by thee,\nOr to my vengeful spear resign thy own!\n  So saying, Ulysses\u2019 oval disk he smote.\nThrough his bright disk the stormy weapon flew,\nTranspierced his twisted mail, and from his side530\nDrove all the skin, but to his nobler parts\nFound entrance none, by Pallas turn\u2019d aslant.[15]\nUlysses, conscious of his life untouch\u2019d,\nRetired a step from Socus, and replied.\n  Ah hapless youth; thy fate is on the wing;535\nMe thou hast forced indeed to cease a while\nFrom battle with the Trojans, but I speak\nThy death at hand; for vanquish\u2019d by my spear,\nThis self-same day thou shalt to me resign\nThy fame, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown\u2019d.540\n  He ceased; then Socus turn\u2019d his back to fly,\nBut, as he turn\u2019d, his shoulder-blades between\nHe pierced him, and the spear urged through his breast.\nOn his resounding arms he fell, and thus\nGodlike Ulysses gloried in his fall.545\n  Ah, Socus, son of Hippasus, a chief\nOf fame equestrian! swifter far than thou\nDeath follow\u2019d thee, and thou hast not escaped.\nIll-fated youth! thy parents\u2019 hands thine eyes\nShall never close, but birds of ravenous maw550\nShall tear thee, flapping thee with frequent wing,\nWhile me the noble Grecians shall entomb!\n  So saying, the valiant Socus\u2019 spear he drew\nFrom his own flesh, and through his bossy shield.\nThe weapon drawn, forth sprang the blood, and left555\nHis spirit faint. Then Ilium\u2019s dauntless sons,\nSeeing Ulysses\u2019 blood, exhorted glad\nEach other, and, with force united, all\nPress\u2019d on him. He, retiring, summon\u2019d loud\nHis followers. Thrice, loud as mortal may,560\nHe call\u2019d, and valiant Menelaus thrice\nHearing the voice, to Ajax thus remark\u2019d.\n  Illustrious son of Telamon! The voice\nOf Laertiades comes o\u2019er my ear\nWith such a sound, as if the hardy chief,565\nAbandon\u2019d of his friends, were overpower\u2019d\nBy numbers intercepting his retreat.\nHaste! force we quick a passage through the ranks.\nHis worth demands our succor, for I fear\nLest sole conflicting with the host of Troy,570\nBrave as he is, he perish, to the loss\nUnspeakable and long regret of Greece.\n  So saying, he went, and Ajax, godlike Chief,\nFollow\u2019d him. At the voice arrived, they found\nUlysses Jove-beloved compass\u2019d about575\nBy Trojans, as the lynxes in the hills,\nAdust for blood, compass an antler\u2019d stag\nPierced by an archer; while his blood is warm\nAnd his limbs pliable, from him he \u2019scapes;\nBut when the feather\u2019d barb hath quell\u2019d his force,580\nIn some dark hollow of the mountain\u2019s side,\nThe hungry troop devour him; chance, the while,\nConducts a lion thither, before whom\nAll vanish, and the lion feeds alone;\nSo swarm\u2019d the Trojan powers, numerous and bold,585\nAround Ulysses, who with wary skill\nHeroic combated his evil day.\nBut Ajax came, cover\u2019d with his broad shield\nThat seem\u2019d a tower, and at Ulysses\u2019 side\nStood fast; then fled the Trojans wide-dispersed,590\nAnd Menelaus led him by the hand\nTill his own chariot to his aid approach\u2019d.\nBut Ajax, springing on the Trojans, slew\nDoryclus, from the loins of Priam sprung,\nBut spurious. Pandocus he wounded next,595\nThen wounded Pyrasus, and after him\nPylartes and Lysander. As a flood\nRuns headlong from the mountains to the plain\nAfter long showers from Jove; many a dry oak\nAnd many a pine the torrent sweeps along,600\nAnd, turbid, shoots much soil into the sea,\nSo, glorious Ajax troubled wide the field,\nHorse and man slaughtering, whereof Hector yet\nHeard not; for on the left of all the war\nHe fought beside Scamander, where around605\nHuge Nestor, and Idomeneus the brave,\nMost deaths were dealt, and loudest roar\u2019d the fight.\nThere Hector toil\u2019d, feats wonderful of spear\nAnd horsemanship achieving, and the lines\nOf many a phalanx desolating wide.610\nNor even then had the bold Greeks retired,\nBut that an arrow triple-barb\u2019d, dispatch\u2019d\nBy Paris, Helen\u2019s mate, against the Chief\nMachaon warring with distinguish\u2019d force,\nPierced his right shoulder. For his sake alarm\u2019d,615\nThe valor-breathing Grecians fear\u2019d, lest he\nIn that disast\u2019rous field should also fall.[16]\nAt once, Idomeneus of Crete approach\u2019d\nThe noble Nestor, and him thus bespake.\n  Arise, Neleian Nestor! Pride of Greece!620\nAscend thy chariot, and Machaon placed\nBeside thee, bear him, instant to the fleet.\nFor one, so skill\u2019d in medicine, and to free\nThe inherent barb, is worth a multitude.\n  He said, nor the Gerenian hero old625\nAught hesitated, but into his seat\nAscended, and Machaon, son renown\u2019d\nOf \u00c6sculapius, mounted at his side.\nHe lash\u2019d the steeds, they not unwilling sought\nThe hollow ships, long their familiar home.630\n  Cebriones, meantime, the charioteer\nOf Hector, from his seat the Trojan ranks\nObserving sore discomfited, began.\n  Here are we busied, Hector! on the skirts\nOf roaring battle, and meantime I see635\nOur host confused, their horses and themselves\nAll mingled. Telamonian Ajax there\nRouts them; I know the hero by his shield.\nHaste, drive we thither, for the carnage most\nOf horse and foot conflicting furious, there640\nRages, and infinite the shouts arise.\n  He said, and with shrill-sounding scourge the steeds\nSmote ample-maned; they, at the sudden stroke\nThrough both hosts whirl\u2019d the chariot, shields and men\nTrampling; with blood the axle underneath645\nAll redden\u2019d, and the chariot-rings with drops\nFrom the horse-hoofs, and from the fellied wheels.\nFull on the multitude he drove, on fire\nTo burst the phalanx, and confusion sent\nAmong the Greeks, for nought[17] he shunn\u2019d the spear.650\nAll quarters else with falchion or with lance,\nOr with huge stones he ranged, but cautious shunn\u2019d\nThe encounter of the Telamonian Chief.\n  But the eternal father throned on high\nWith fear fill\u2019d Ajax; panic-fixt he stood,655\nHis seven-fold shield behind his shoulder cast,\nAnd hemm\u2019d by numbers, with an eye askant,\nWatchful retreated. As a beast of prey\nRetiring, turns and looks, so he his face\nTurn\u2019d oft, retiring slow, and step by step.660\nAs when the watch-dogs and assembled swains\nHave driven a tawny lion from the stalls,\nThen, interdicting him his wish\u2019d repast,\nWatch all the night, he, famish\u2019d, yet again\nComes furious on, but speeds not, kept aloof665\nBy frequent spears from daring hands, but more\nBy flash of torches, which, though fierce, he dreads,\nTill, at the dawn, sullen he stalks away;\nSo from before the Trojans Ajax stalk\u2019d\nSullen, and with reluctance slow retired.670\nHis brave heart trembling for the fleet of Greece.\nAs when (the boys o\u2019erpower\u2019d) a sluggish ass,\nOn whose tough sides they have spent many a staff,\nEnters the harvest, and the spiry ears\nCrops persevering; with their rods the boys675\nStill ply him hard, but all their puny might\nScarce drives him forth when he hath browsed his fill,\nSo, there, the Trojans and their foreign aids\nWith glittering lances keen huge Ajax urged,\nHis broad shield\u2019s centre smiting.[18] He, by turns,680\nWith desperate force the Trojan phalanx dense\nFacing, repulsed them, and by turns he fled,\nBut still forbad all inroad on the fleet.\nTrojans and Greeks between, alone, he stood\nA bulwark. Spears from daring hands dismiss\u2019d685\nSome, piercing his broad shield, there planted stood,\nWhile others, in the midway falling, spent\nTheir disappointed rage deep in the ground.\n\n  Eurypylus, Ev\u00e6mon\u2019s noble son,\nHim seeing, thus, with weapons overwhelmed690\nFlew to his side, his glittering lance dismiss\u2019d,\nAnd Apisaon, son of Phausias, struck\nUnder the midriff; through his liver pass\u2019d\nThe ruthless point, and, falling, he expired.\nForth sprang Eurypylus to seize the spoil;695\nWhom soon as godlike Alexander saw\nDespoiling Apisaon of his arms,\nDrawing incontinent his bow, he sent\nA shaft to his right thigh; the brittle reed\nSnapp\u2019d, and the rankling barb stuck fast within.700\nTerrified at the stroke, the wounded Chief\nTo his own band retired, but, as he went,\nWith echoing voice call\u2019d on the Dana\u00ef\u2014\n  Friends! Counsellors, and leaders of the Greeks!\nTurn ye and stand, and from his dreadful lot705\nSave Ajax whelm\u2019d with weapons; \u2019scape, I judge,\nHe cannot from the roaring fight, yet oh\nStand fast around him; if save ye may,\nYour champion huge, the Telamonian Chief!\n  So spake the wounded warrior. They at once710\nWith sloping bucklers, and with spears erect,\nTo his relief approach\u2019d. Ajax with joy\nThe friendly phalanx join\u2019d, then turn\u2019d and stood.\n  Thus burn\u2019d the embattled field as with the flames\nOf a devouring fire. Meantime afar715\nFrom all that tumult the Neleian mares\nBore Nestor, foaming as they ran, with whom\nMachaon also rode, leader revered.\nAchilles mark\u2019d him passing; for he stood\nExalted on his huge ship\u2019s lofty stern,720\nSpectator of the toil severe, and flight\nDeplorable of the defeated Greeks.\nHe call\u2019d his friend Patroclus. He below\nWithin his tent the sudden summons heard\nAnd sprang like Mars abroad, all unaware725\nThat in that sound he heard the voice of fate.\nHim first Men\u0153tius\u2019 gallant son address\u2019d.\n  What would Achilles? Wherefore hath he call\u2019d?\nTo whom Achilles swiftest of the swift:\n  Brave Men\u0153tiades! my soul\u2019s delight!730\nSoon will the Grecians now my knees surround\nSuppliant, by dread extremity constrain\u2019d.\nBut fly Patroclus, haste, oh dear to Jove!\nInquire of Nestor, whom he hath convey\u2019d\nFrom battle, wounded? Viewing him behind,735\nI most believed him \u00c6sculapius\u2019 son\nMachaon, but the steeds so swiftly pass\u2019d\nMy galley, that his face escaped my note.[19]\n  He said, and prompt to gratify his friend,\nForth ran Patroclus through the camp of Greece.740\n  Now when Neleian Nestor to his tent\nHad brought Machaon, they alighted both,\nAnd the old hero\u2019s friend Eurymedon\nReleased the coursers. On the beach awhile\nTheir tunics sweat-imbued in the cool air745\nThey ventilated, facing full the breeze,\nThen on soft couches in the tent reposed.\nMeantime, their beverage Hecamede mix\u2019d,\nThe old King\u2019s bright-hair\u2019d captive, whom he brought\nFrom Tenedos, what time Achilles sack\u2019d750\nThe city, daughter of the noble Chief\nArsino\u00fcs, and selected from the rest\nFor Nestor, as the honorable meed\nOf counsels always eminently wise.\nShe, first, before them placed a table bright,755\nWith feet c\u0153rulean; thirst-provoking sauce\nShe brought them also in a brazen tray,\nGarlic[20] and honey new, and sacred meal.\nBeside them, next, she placed a noble cup\nOf labor exquisite, which from his home760\nThe ancient King had brought with golden studs\nEmbellish\u2019d; it presented to the grasp\nFour ears; two golden turtles, perch\u2019d on each,\nSeem\u2019d feeding, and two turtles[21] form\u2019d the base.\nThat cup once fill\u2019d, all others must have toil\u2019d765\nTo move it from the board, but it was light\nIn Nestor\u2019s hand; he lifted it with ease.[22]\nThe graceful virgin in that cup a draught\nMix\u2019d for them, Pramnian wine and savory cheese\nOf goat\u2019s milk, grated with a brazen rasp,770\nThen sprinkled all with meal. The draught prepared,\nShe gave it to their hand; they, drinking, slaked\nTheir fiery thirst, and with each other sat\nConversing friendly, when the godlike youth\nBy brave Achilles sent, stood at the door.775\n  Him seeing, Nestor from his splendid couch\nArose, and by the hand leading him in,\nEntreated him to sit, but that request\nPatroclus, on his part refusing, said,\n  Oh venerable King! no seat is here780\nFor me, nor may thy courtesy prevail.\nHe is irascible, and to be fear\u2019d\nWho bade me ask what Chieftain thou hast brought\nFrom battle, wounded; but untold I learn;\nI see Machaon, and shall now report785\nAs I have seen; oh ancient King revered!\nThou know\u2019st Achilles fiery, and propense\nBlame to impute even where blame is none.\n\n  To whom the brave Gerenian thus replied.\nWhy feels Achilles for the wounded Greeks790\nSuch deep concern? He little knows the height\nTo which our sorrows swell. Our noblest lie\nBy spear or arrow wounded in the fleet.\nDiomede, warlike son of Tydeus, bleeds,\nGall\u2019d by a shaft; Ulysses, glorious Chief,795\nAnd Agamemnon[23] suffer by the spear;\nEurypylus is shot into the thigh,\nAnd here lies still another newly brought\nBy me from fight, pierced also by a shaft.\nWhat then? How strong soe\u2019er to give them aid,800\nAchilles feels no pity of the Greeks.\nWaits he till every vessel on the shore\nFired, in despite of the whole Argive host,\nBe sunk in its own ashes, and ourselves\nAll perish, heaps on heaps? For in my limbs805\nNo longer lives the agility of my youth.\nOh, for the vigor of those days again,\nWhen Elis, for her cattle which we took,\nStrove with us and Itymoneus I slew,\nBrave offspring of Hypirochus; he dwelt810\nIn Elis, and while I the pledges drove,\nStood for his herd, but fell among the first\nBy a spear hurl\u2019d from my victorious arm.\nThen fled the rustic multitude, and we\nDrove off abundant booty from the plain,815\nHerds fifty of fat beeves, large flocks of goats\nAs many, with as many sheep and swine,\nAnd full thrice fifty mares of brightest hue,\nAll breeders, many with their foals beneath.\nAll these, by night returning safe, we drove820\nInto Neleian Pylus, and the heart\nRejoiced of Neleus, in a son so young\nA warrior, yet enrich\u2019d with such a prize.\nAt early dawn the heralds summon\u2019d loud\nThe citizens, to prove their just demands825\nOn fruitful Elis, and the assembled Chiefs\nDivision made (for numerous were the debts\nWhich the Epeans, in the weak estate\nOf the unpeopled Pylus, had incurr\u2019d;\nFor Hercules, few years before, had sack\u2019d[24]830\nOur city, and our mightiest slain. Ourselves\nThe gallant sons of Neleus, were in all\nTwelve youths, of whom myself alone survived;\nThe rest all perish\u2019d; whence, presumptuous grown,\nThe brazen-mail\u2019d Epeans wrong\u2019d us oft).835\nA herd of beeves my father for himself\nSelected, and a numerous flock beside,\nThree hundred sheep, with shepherds for them all.\nFor he a claimant was of large arrears\nFrom sacred Elis. Four unrivall\u2019d steeds840\nWith his own chariot to the games he sent,\nThat should contend for the appointed prize\nA tripod; but Augeias, King of men,\nDetain\u2019d the steeds, and sent the charioteer\nDefrauded home. My father, therefore, fired845\nAt such foul outrage both of deeds and words,\nTook much, and to the Pylians gave the rest\nFor satisfaction of the claims of all.\nWhile thus we busied were in these concerns,\nAnd in performance of religious rites850\nThroughout the city, came the Epeans arm\u2019d,\nTheir whole vast multitude both horse and foot\nOn the third day; came also clad in brass\nThe two Molions, inexpert as yet\nIn feats of arms, and of a boyish age.855\nThere is a city on a mountain\u2019s head,\nFast by the banks of Alpheus, far remote,\nThe utmost town which sandy Pylus owns,\nNamed Thryo\u00ebssa, and, with ardor fired\nTo lay it waste, that city they besieged.860\nNow when their host had traversed all the plain,\nMinerva from Olympus flew by night\nAnd bade us arm; nor were the Pylians slow\nTo assemble, but impatient for the fight.\nMe, then, my father suffer\u2019d not to arm,865\nBut hid my steeds, for he supposed me raw\nAs yet, and ignorant how war is waged.\nYet, even thus, unvantaged and on foot,\nSuperior honors I that day acquired\nTo theirs who rode, for Pallas led me on870\nHerself to victory. There is a stream\nWhich at Arena falls into the sea,\nNamed Minu\u00ebius; on that river\u2019s bank\nThe Pylian horsemen waited day\u2019s approach,\nAnd thither all our foot came pouring down.875\nThe flood divine of Alpheus thence we reach\u2019d\nAt noon, all arm\u2019d complete; there, hallow\u2019d rites\nWe held to Jove omnipotent, and slew\nA bull to sacred Alpheus, with a bull\nTo Neptune, and a heifer of the herd880\nTo Pallas; then, all marshall\u2019d as they were,\nFrom van to rear our legions took repast,\nAnd at the river\u2019s side slept on their arms.\nAlready the Epean host had round\nBegirt the city, bent to lay it waste,885\nA task which cost them, first, both blood and toil,\nFor when the radiant sun on the green earth\nHad risen, with prayer to Pallas and to Jove,\nWe gave them battle. When the Pylian host\nAnd the Epeans thus were close engaged,890\nI first a warrior slew, Mulius the brave,\nAnd seized his coursers. He the eldest-born\nOf King Augeias\u2019 daughters had espoused\nThe golden Agamede; not an herb\nThe spacious earth yields but she knew its powers,895\nHim, rushing on me, with my brazen lance\nI smote, and in the dust he fell; I leap\u2019d\nInto his seat, and drove into the van.\nA panic seized the Epeans when they saw\nThe leader of their horse o\u2019erthrown, a Chief900\nSurpassing all in fight. Black as a cloud\nWith whirlwind fraught, I drove impetuous on,\nTook fifty chariots, and at side of each\nLay two slain warriors, with their teeth the soil\nGrinding, all vanquish\u2019d by my single arm.905\nI had slain also the Molions, sons\nOf Actor, but the Sovereign of the deep\nTheir own authentic Sire, in darkness dense\nInvolving both, convey\u2019d them safe away.\nThen Jove a victory of prime renown910\nGave to the Pylians; for we chased and slew\nAnd gather\u2019d spoil o\u2019er all the champain spread\nWith scatter\u2019d shields, till we our steeds had driven\nTo the Buprasian fields laden with corn,\nTo the Olenian rock, and to a town915\nIn fair Colona situate, and named\nAlesia. There it was that Pallas turn\u2019d\nOur people homeward; there I left the last\nOf all the slain, and he was slain by me.\nThen drove the Achaians from Buprasium home920\nTheir coursers fleet, and Jove, of Gods above,\nReceived most praise, Nestor of men below.\n  Such once was I. But brave Achilles shuts\nHis virtues close, an unimparted store;\nYet even he shall weep, when all the host,925\nHis fellow-warriors once, shall be destroy\u2019d.\nBut recollect, young friend! the sage advice\nWhich when thou earnest from Phthia to the aid\nOf Agamemnon, on that selfsame day\nMen\u0153tius gave thee. We were present there,930\nUlysses and myself, both in the house,\nAnd heard it all; for to the house we came\nOf Peleus in our journey through the land\nOf fertile Greece, gathering her states to war.\nWe found thy noble sire Men\u0153tius there,935\nThee and Achilles; ancient Peleus stood\nTo Jove the Thunderer offering in his court\nThighs of an ox, and on the blazing rites\nLibation pouring from a cup of gold.\nWhile ye on preparation of the feast940\nAttended both, Ulysses and myself\nStood in the vestibule; Achilles flew\nToward us, introduced us by the hand,\nAnd, seating us, such liberal portion gave\nTo each, as hospitality requires.945\nOur thirst, at length, and hunger both sufficed,\nI, foremost speaking, ask\u2019d you to the wars,\nAnd ye were eager both, but from your sires\nMuch admonition, ere ye went, received.\nOld Peleus charged Achilles to aspire950\nTo highest praise, and always to excel.\nBut thee, thy sire Men\u0153tius thus advised.\n\u201cMy son! Achilles boasts the nobler birth,\nBut thou art elder; he in strength excels\nThee far; thou, therefore, with discretion rule955\nHis inexperience; thy advice impart\nWith gentleness; instruction wise suggest\nWisely, and thou shalt find him apt to learn.\u201d\nSo thee thy father taught, but, as it seems,\nIn vain. Yet even now essay to move960\nWarlike Achilles; if the Gods so please,\nWho knows but that thy reasons may prevail\nTo rouse his valiant heart? men rarely scorn\nThe earnest intercession of a friend.\nBut if some prophecy alarm his fears,965\nAnd from his Goddess mother he have aught\nReceived, who may have learnt the same from Jove,\nThee let him send at least, and order forth\nWith thee the Myrmidons; a dawn of hope\nShall thence, it may be, on our host arise.970\nAnd let him send thee to the battle clad\nIn his own radiant armor; Troy, deceived\nBy such resemblance, shall abstain perchance\nFrom conflict, and the weary Greeks enjoy\nShort respite; it is all that war allows.975\nFresh as ye are, ye, by your shouts alone,\nMay easily repulse an army spent\nWith labor from the camp and from the fleet.\n  Thus Nestor, and his mind bent to his words.\nBack to \u00c6acides through all the camp980\nHe ran; and when, still running, he arrived\nAmong Ulysses\u2019 barks, where they had fix\u2019d\nThe forum, where they minister\u2019d the laws,\nAnd had erected altars to the Gods,\nThere him Eurypylus, Ev\u00e6mon\u2019s son,985\nIllustrious met, deep-wounded in his thigh,\nAnd halting-back from battle. From his head\nThe sweat, and from his shoulders ran profuse,\nAnd from his perilous wound the sable blood\nContinual stream\u2019d; yet was his mind composed.990\nHim seeing, Men\u0153tiades the brave\nCompassion felt, and mournful, thus began.\n  Ah hapless senators and Chiefs of Greece!\nLeft ye your native country that the dogs\nMight fatten on your flesh at distant Troy?995\nBut tell me, Hero! say, Eurypylus!\nHave the Achaians power still to withstand\nThe enormous force of Hector, or is this\nThe moment when his spear must pierce us all?\n  To whom Eurypylus, discreet, replied.1000\nPatroclus, dear to Jove! there is no help,\nNo remedy. We perish at our ships.\nThe warriors, once most strenuous of the Greeks,\nLie wounded in the fleet by foes whose might\nIncreases ever. But thyself afford1005\nTo me some succor; lead me to my ship;\nCut forth the arrow from my thigh; the gore\nWith warm ablution cleanse, and on the wound\nSmooth unguents spread, the same as by report\nAchilles taught thee; taught, himself, their use1010\nBy Chiron, Centaur, justest of his kind\nFor Podalirius and Machaon both\nAre occupied. Machaon, as I judge,\nLies wounded in his tent, needing like aid\nHimself, and Podalirius in the field1015\nMaintains sharp conflict with the sons of Troy.\n  To whom Men\u0153tius\u2019 gallant son replied.\nHero! Eurypylus! how shall we act\nIn this perplexity? what course pursue?\nI seek the brave Achilles, to whose ear1020\nI bear a message from the ancient chief\nGerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks.\nYet will I not, even for such a cause,\nMy friend! abandon thee in thy distress.\n  He ended, and his arms folding around1025\nThe warrior bore him thence into his tent.\nHis servant, on his entrance, spread the floor\nWith hides, on which Patroclus at his length\nExtended him, and with his knife cut forth\nThe rankling point; with tepid lotion, next,1030\nHe cleansed the gore, and with a bitter root\nBruised small between his palms, sprinkled the wound.\nAt once, the anodyne his pain assuaged,\nThe wound was dried within, and the blood ceased.\n\n\nIt will be well here to observe the position of the Greeks. All human\naid is cut off by the wounds of their heroes, and all assistance from\nthe Gods forbidden by Jupiter. On the contrary, the Trojans see their\ngeneral at their head, and Jupiter himself fights on their side. Upon\nthis hinge turns the whole poem. The distress of the Greeks occasions\nfirst the assistance of Patroclus, and then the death of that hero\nbrings back Achilles.\n\nThe poet shows great skill in conducting these incidents. He gives\nAchilles the pleasure of seeing that the Greeks could not carry on the\nwar without his assistance, and upon this depends the great catastrophe\nof the poem.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWELFTH BOOK.\n\nThe Trojans assail the ramparts, and Hector forces the gates.\n\n\nBOOK XII.\n\n\nSo was Men\u0153tius\u2019 gallant son employ\u2019d\nHealing Eurypylus. The Greeks, meantime,\nAnd Trojans with tumultuous fury fought.\nNor was the foss ordain\u2019d long time to exclude\nThe host of Troy, nor yet the rampart built5\nBeside it for protection of the fleet;\nFor hecatomb the Greeks had offer\u2019d none,\nNor prayer to heaven, that it might keep secure\nTheir ships with all their spoils. The mighty work\nAs in defiance of the Immortal Powers10\nHad risen, and could not therefore long endure.\nWhile Hector lived, and while Achilles held\nHis wrathful purpose; while the city yet\nOf royal Priam was unsack\u2019d, so long\nThe massy structure stood; but when the best15\nAnd bravest of the Trojan host were slain,\nAnd of the Grecian heroes, some had fallen\nAnd some survived, when Priam\u2019s towers had blazed\nIn the tenth year, and to their native shores\nThe Grecians with their ships, at length, return\u2019d,20\nThen Neptune, with Apollo leagued, devised\nIts ruin; every river that descends\nFrom the Id\u00e6an heights into the sea\nThey brought against it, gathering all their force.\nRhesus, Caresus, Rhodius, the wide-branch\u2019d25\nHeptaporus, \u00c6sepus, Granicus,\nScamander\u2019s sacred current, and thy stream\nSim\u00f6is, whose banks with helmets and with shields\nWere strew\u2019d, and Chiefs of origin divine;\nAll these with refluent course Apollo drove30\nNine days against the rampart, and Jove rain\u2019d\nIncessant, that the Grecian wall wave-whelm\u2019d\nThrough all its length might sudden disappear.\nNeptune with his tridental mace, himself,\nLed them, and beam and buttress to the flood35\nConsigning, laid by the laborious Greeks,\nSwept the foundation, and the level bank\nOf the swift-rolling Hellespont restored.\nThe structure thus effaced, the spacious beach\nHe spread with sand as at the first; then bade40\nSubside the streams, and in their channels wind\nWith limpid course, and pleasant as before,\n  Apollo thus and Neptune, from the first,\nDesign\u2019d its fall; but now the battle raved\nAnd clamors of the warriors all around45\nThe strong-built turrets, whose assaulted planks\nRang, while the Grecians, by the scourge of Jove\nSubdued, stood close within their fleet immured,\nAt Hector\u2019s phalanx-scattering force appall\u2019d.\nHe, as before, with whirlwind fury fought.50\nAs when the boar or lion fiery-eyed\nTurns short, the hunters and the hounds among,\nThe close-embattled troop him firm oppose,\nAnd ply him fast with spears; he no dismay\nConceives or terror in his noble heart,55\nBut by his courage falls; frequent he turns\nAttempting bold the ranks, and where he points\nDirect his onset, there the ranks retire;\nSo, through the concourse on his rolling wheels\nBorne rapid, Hector animated loud60\nHis fellow-warriors to surpass the trench.\nBut not his own swift-footed steeds would dare\nThat hazard; standing on the dangerous brink\nThey neigh\u2019d aloud, for by its breadth the foss\nDeterr\u2019d them; neither was the effort slight65\nTo leap that gulf, nor easy the attempt\nTo pass it through; steep were the banks profound\nOn both sides, and with massy piles acute\nThick-planted, interdicting all assault.\nNo courser to the rapid chariot braced70\nHad enter\u2019d there with ease; yet strong desires\nPossess\u2019d the infantry of that emprize,\nAnd thus Polydamas the ear address\u2019d\nOf dauntless Hector, standing at his side.\n  Hector, and ye the leaders of our host,75\nBoth Trojans and allies! rash the attempt\nI deem, and vain, to push our horses through,\nSo dangerous is the pass; rough is the trench\nWith pointed stakes, and the Achaian wall\nMeets us beyond. No chariot may descend80\nOr charioteer fight there; strait are the bounds,\nAnd incommodious, and his death were sure.\nIf Jove, high-thundering Ruler of the skies,\nWill succor Ilium, and nought less intend\nThan utter devastation of the Greeks,85\nI am content; now perish all their host\nInglorious, from their country far remote.\nBut should they turn, and should ourselves be driven\nBack from the fleet impeded and perplex\u2019d\nIn this deep foss, I judge that not a man,90\n\u2019Scaping the rallied Grecians, should survive\nTo bear the tidings of our fate to Troy.\nNow, therefore, act we all as I advise.\nLet every charioteer his coursers hold\nFast-rein\u2019d beside the foss, while we on foot,95\nWith order undisturb\u2019d and arms in hand,\nShall follow Hector. If destruction borne\nOn wings of destiny this day approach\nThe Grecians, they will fly our first assault.\n  So spake Polydamas, whose safe advice100\nPleased Hector; from his chariot to the ground\nAll arm\u2019d he leap\u2019d, nor would a Trojan there\n(When once they saw the Hero on his feet)\nRide into battle, but unanimous\nDescending with a leap, all trod the plain.105\nEach gave command that at the trench his steeds\nShould stand detain\u2019d in orderly array;\nThen, suddenly, the parted host became\nFive bands, each following its appointed chief.\nThe bravest and most numerous, and whose hearts110\nWish\u2019d most to burst the barrier and to wage\nThe battle at the ships, with Hector march\u2019d\nAnd with Polydamas, whom follow\u2019d, third,\nCebriones; for Hector had his steeds\nConsign\u2019d and chariot to inferior care.115\nParis, Alcatho\u00fcs, and Agenor led\nThe second band, and, sons of Priam both,\nDe\u00efphobus and Helenus, the third;\nWith them was seen partner of their command;\nThe Hero Asius; from Arisba came120\nAsius Hyrtacides, to battle drawn\nFrom the Selle\u00efs banks by martial steeds\nHair\u2019d fiery-red and of the noblest size.\nThe fourth, Anchises\u2019 mighty son controll\u2019d,\n\u00c6neas; under him Antenor\u2019s sons,125\nArchilochus and Acamas, advanced,\nAdept in all the practice of the field.\nLast came the glorious powers in league with Troy\nLed by Sarpedon; he with Glaucus shared\nHis high control, and with the warlike Chief130\nAsterop\u00e6us; for of all his host\nThem bravest he esteem\u2019d, himself except\nSuperior in heroic might to all.\nAnd now (their shields adjusted each to each)\nWith dauntless courage fired, right on they moved135\nAgainst the Grecians; nor expected less\nThan that beside their sable ships, the host\nShould self-abandon\u2019d fall an easy prey.\n  The Trojans, thus with their confederate powers,\nThe counsel of the accomplish\u2019d Prince pursued,140\nPolydamas, one Chief alone except,\nAsius Hyrtacides. He scorn\u2019d to leave\nHis charioteer and coursers at the trench,\nAnd drove toward the fleet. Ah, madly brave!\nHis evil hour was come; he was ordain\u2019d145\nWith horse and chariot and triumphant shout\nTo enter wind-swept Ilium never more.\nDeucalion\u2019s offspring, first, into the shades\nDismiss\u2019d him; by Idomeneus he died.\nLeftward he drove furious, along the road150\nBy which the steeds and chariots of the Greeks\nReturn\u2019d from battle; in that track he flew,\nNor found the portals by the massy bar\nSecured, but open for reception safe\nOf fugitives, and to a guard consign\u2019d.155\nThither he drove direct, and in his rear\nHis band shrill-shouting follow\u2019d, for they judged\nThe Greeks no longer able to withstand\nTheir foes, but sure to perish in the camp.\nVain hope! for in the gate two Chiefs they found160\nLapith\u00e6-born, courageous offspring each\nOf dauntless father; Polyp\u0153tes, this,\nSprung from Pirith\u00f6us; that, the warrior bold\nLeonteus, terrible as gore-tainted Mars.\nThese two, defenders of the lofty gates,165\nStood firm before them. As when two tall oaks\nOn the high mountains day by day endure\nRough wind and rain, by deep-descending roots\nOf hugest growth fast-founded in the soil;\nSo they, sustain\u2019d by conscious valor, saw,170\nUnmoved, high towering Asius on his way,\nNor fear\u2019d him aught, nor shrank from his approach\nRight on toward the barrier, lifting high\nTheir season\u2019d bucklers and with clamor loud\nThe band advanced, King Asius at their head,175\nWith whom I\u00e4menus, expert in arms,\nOrestes, Th\u00f6on, Acamas the son\nOf Asius, and Oenom\u00e4us, led them on.\nTill now, the warlike pair, exhorting loud\nThe Grecians to defend the fleet, had stood180\nWithin the gates; but soon as they perceived\nThe Trojans swift advancing to the wall,\nAnd heard a cry from all the flying Greeks,\nBoth sallying, before the gates they fought\nLike forest-boars, which hearing in the hills185\nThe crash of hounds and huntsmen nigh at hand,\nWith start oblique lay many a sapling flat\nShort-broken by the root, nor cease to grind\nTheir sounding tusks, till by the spear they die;\nSo sounded on the breasts of those brave two190\nThe smitten brass; for resolute they fought,\nEmbolden\u2019d by their might who kept the wall,\nAnd trusting in their own; they, in defence\nOf camp and fleet and life, thick battery hurl\u2019d\nOf stones precipitated from the towers;195\nFrequent as snows they fell, which stormy winds,\nDriving the gloomy clouds, shake to the ground,\nTill all the fertile earth lies cover\u2019d deep.\nSuch volley pour\u2019d the Greeks, and such return\u2019d\nThe Trojans; casques of hide, arid and tough,200\nAnd bossy shields rattled, by such a storm\nAssail\u2019d of millstone masses from above.\nThen Asius, son of Hyrtacus, a groan\nIndignant utter\u2019d; on both thighs he smote\nWith disappointment furious, and exclaim\u2019d,205\n  Jupiter! even thou art false become,\nAnd altogether such. Full sure I deem\u2019d\nThat not a Grecian hero should abide\nOne moment force invincible as ours,\nAnd lo! as wasps ring-streaked,[1] or bees that build210\nTheir dwellings in the highway\u2019s craggy side\nLeave not their hollow home, but fearless wait\nThe hunter\u2019s coming, in their brood\u2019s defence,\nSo these, although two only, from the gates\nMove not, nor will, till either seized or slain.215\n  So Asius spake, but speaking so, changed not\nThe mind of Jove on Hector\u2019s glory bent.\nOthers, as obstinate, at other gates\nSuch deeds perform\u2019d, that to enumerate all\nWere difficult, unless to power divine.220\nFor fierce the hail of stones from end to end\nSmote on the barrier; anguish fill\u2019d the Greeks.\nYet, by necessity constrain\u2019d, their ships\nThey guarded still; nor less the Gods themselves,\nPatrons of Greece, all sorrow\u2019d at the sight.225\n  At once the valiant Lapith\u00e6 began\nTerrible conflict, and Pirithous\u2019 son\nBrave Polyp\u0153tes through his helmet pierced\nDamasus; his resplendent point the brass\nSufficed not to withstand; entering, it crush\u2019d230\nThe bone within, and mingling all his brain\nWith his own blood, his onset fierce repress\u2019d.\nPylon and Ormenus he next subdued.\nMeantime Leonteus, branch of Mars, his spear\nHurl\u2019d at Hippomachus, whom through his belt235\nHe pierced; then drawing forth his falchion keen,\nThrough all the multitude he flew to smite\nAntiphates, and with a downright stroke\nFell\u2019d him. I\u00e4menus and Menon next\nHe slew, with brave Orestes, whom he heap\u2019d,240\nAll three together, on the fertile glebe.\n  While them the Lapith\u00e6 of their bright arms\nDespoil\u2019d, Polydamas and Hector stood\n(With all the bravest youths and most resolved\nTo burst the barrier and to fire the fleet)245\nBeside the foss, pondering the event.\nFor, while they press\u2019d to pass, they spied a bird\nSublime in air, an eagle. Right between\nBoth hosts he soar\u2019d (the Trojan on his left)\nA serpent bearing in his pounces clutch\u2019d250\nEnormous, dripping blood, but lively still\nAnd mindful of revenge; for from beneath\nThe eagle\u2019s breast, updarting fierce his head,\nFast by the throat he struck him; anguish-sick\nThe eagle cast him down into the space255\nBetween the hosts, and, clanging loud his plumes\nAs the wind bore him, floated far away.\nShudder\u2019d the Trojans viewing at their feet\nThe spotted serpent ominous, and thus\nPolydamas to dauntless Hector spake.260\n  Ofttimes in council, Hector, thou art wont\nTo censure me, although advising well;\nNor ought the private citizen, I confess,\nEither in council or in war to indulge\nLoquacity, but ever to employ265\nAll his exertions in support of thine.\nYet hear my best opinion once again.\nProceed we not in our attempt against\nThe Grecian fleet. For if in truth the sign\nRespect the host of Troy ardent to pass,270\nThen, as the eagle soar\u2019d both hosts between,\nWith Ilium\u2019s on his left, and clutch\u2019d a snake\nEnormous, dripping blood, but still alive,\nWhich yet he dropp\u2019d suddenly, ere he reach\u2019d\nHis eyry, or could give it to his young,275\nSo we, although with mighty force we burst\nBoth gates and barrier, and although the Greeks\nShould all retire, shall never yet the way\nTread honorably back by which we came.\nNo. Many a Trojan shall we leave behind280\nSlain by the Grecians in their fleet\u2019s defence.\nAn augur skill\u2019d in omens would expound\nThis omen thus, and faith would win from all.\n  To whom, dark-louring, Hector thus replied.\nPolydamas! I like not thy advice;285\nThou couldst have framed far better; but if this\nBe thy deliberate judgment, then the Gods\nMake thy deliberate judgment nothing worth,\nWho bidd\u2019st me disregard the Thunderer\u2019s[2] firm\nAssurance to myself announced, and make290\nThe wild inhabitants of air my guides,\nWhich I alike despise, speed they their course\nWith right-hand flight toward the ruddy East,\nOr leftward down into the shades of eve.\nConsider _we_ the will of Jove alone,295\nSovereign of heaven and earth. Omens abound,\nBut the best omen is our country\u2019s cause.[3]\nWherefore should fiery war _thy_ soul alarm?\nFor were we slaughter\u2019d, one and all, around\nThe fleet of Greece, _thou_ need\u2019st not fear to die,300\nWhose courage never will thy flight retard.\nBut if thou shrink thyself, or by smooth speech\nSeduce one other from a soldier\u2019s part,\nPierced by this spear incontinent thou diest.\n  So saying he led them, who with deafening roar305\nFollow\u2019d him. Then, from the Id\u00e6an hills\nJove hurl\u2019d a storm which wafted right the dust\nInto the fleet; the spirits too he quell\u2019d\nOf the Achaians, and the glory gave\nTo Hector and his host; they, trusting firm310\nIn signs from Jove, and in their proper force,\nAssay\u2019d the barrier; from the towers they tore\nThe galleries, cast the battlements to ground,\nAnd the projecting buttresses adjoin\u2019d\nTo strengthen the vast work, with bars upheaved.315\nAll these, with expectation fierce to break\nThe rampart, down they drew; nor yet the Greeks\nGave back, but fencing close with shields the wall,\nSmote from behind them many a foe beneath.\nMeantime from tower to tower the Ajaces moved320\nExhorting all; with mildness some, and some\nWith harsh rebuke, whom they observed through fear\nDeclining base the labors of the fight,\n  Friends! Argives! warriors of whatever rank!\nYe who excel, and ye of humbler note!325\nAnd ye the last and least! (for such there are,\nAll have not magnanimity alike)\nNow have we work for all, as all perceive.\nTurn not, retreat not to your ships, appall\u2019d\nBy sounding menaces, but press the foe;330\nExhort each other, and e\u2019en now perchance\nOlympian Jove, by whom the lightnings burn,\nShall grant us to repulse them, and to chase\nThe routed Trojans to their gates again.\n  So they vociferating to the Greeks,335\nStirr\u2019d them to battle. As the feathery snows\nFall frequent, on some wintry day, when Jove\nHath risen to shed them on the race of man,\nAnd show his arrowy stores; he lulls the winds,\nThen shakes them down continual, covering thick340\nMountain tops, promontories, flowery meads,\nAnd cultured valleys rich; the ports and shores\nReceive it also of the hoary deep,\nBut there the waves bound it, while all beside\nLies whelm\u2019d beneath Jove\u2019s fast-descending shower,345\nSo thick, from side to side, by Trojans hurl\u2019d\nAgainst the Greeks, and by the Greeks return\u2019d\nThe stony vollies flew; resounding loud\nThrough all its length the battered rampart roar\u2019d.\nNor yet had Hector and his host prevail\u2019d350\nTo burst the gates, and break the massy bar,\nHad not all-seeing Jove Sarpedon moved\nHis son, against the Greeks, furious as falls\nThe lion on some horned herd of beeves.\nAt once his polish\u2019d buckler he advanced355\nWith leafy brass o\u2019erlaid; for with smooth brass\nThe forger of that shield its oval disk\nHad plated, and with thickest hides throughout\nHad lined it, stitch\u2019d with circling wires of gold.\nThat shield he bore before him; firmly grasp\u2019d360\nHe shook two spears, and with determined strides\nMarch\u2019d forward. As the lion mountain-bred,\nAfter long fast, by impulse of his heart\nUndaunted urged, seeks resolute the flock\nEven in the shelter of their guarded home;365\nHe finds, perchance, the shepherds arm\u2019d with spears,\nAnd all their dogs awake, yet can not leave\nUntried the fence, but either leaps it light,\nAnd entering tears the prey, or in the attempt\nPierced by some dexterous peasant, bleeds himself;370\nSo high his courage to the assault impell\u2019d\nGodlike Sarpedon, and him fired with hope\nTo break the barrier; when to Glaucus thus,\nSon of Hippolochus, his speech he turn\u2019d.\n  Why, Glaucus, is the seat of honor ours,375\nWhy drink we brimming cups, and feast in state?\nWhy gaze they all on us as we were Gods\nIn Lycia, and why share we pleasant fields\nAnd spacious vineyards, where the Xanthus winds?\nDistinguished thus in Lycia, we are call\u2019d380\nTo firmness here, and to encounter bold\nThe burning battle, that our fair report\nAmong the Lycians may be blazon\u2019d thus\u2014\nNo dastards are the potentates who rule\nThe bright-arm\u2019d Lycians; on the fatted flock385\nThey banquet, and they drink the richest wines;\nBut they are also valiant, and the fight\nWage dauntless in the vanward of us all.\nOh Glaucus, if escaping safe the death\nThat threats us here, we also could escape390\nOld age, and to ourselves secure a life\nImmortal, I would neither in the van\nMyself expose, nor would encourage thee\nTo tempt the perils of the glorious field.\nBut since a thousand messengers of fate395\nPursue us close, and man is born to die\u2014\nE\u2019en let us on; the prize of glory yield,\nIf yield we must, or wrest it from the foe.\n  He said, nor cold refusal in return\nReceived from Glaucus, but toward the wall400\nTheir numerous Lycian host both led direct.\nMenestheus, son of Peteos, saw appall\u2019d\nTheir dread approach, for to his tower they bent;\nTheir threatening march. An eager look he cast,\nOn the embodied Greeks, seeking some Chief405\nWhose aid might turn the battle from his van:\nHe saw, where never sated with exploits\nOf war, each Ajax fought, near whom his eye\nKenn\u2019d Teucer also, newly from his tent;\nBut vain his efforts were with loudest call410\nTo reach their ears, such was the deafening din\nUpsent to heaven, of shields and crested helms,\nAnd of the batter\u2019d gates; for at each gate\nThey thundering stood, and urged alike at each\nTheir fierce attempt by force to burst the bars.415\nTo Ajax therefore he at once dispatch\u2019d\nA herald, and Th\u00f6otes thus enjoin\u2019d.\n  My noble friend, Th\u00f6otes! with all speed\nCall either Ajax; bid them hither both;\nFar better so; for havoc is at hand.420\nThe Lycian leaders, ever in assault\nTempestuous, bend their force against this tower\nMy station. But if also there they find\nLaborious conflict pressing them severe,\nAt least let Telamonian Ajax come,425\nAnd Teucer with his death-dispensing bow.\n  He spake, nor was Th\u00f6otes slow to hear;\nBeside the rampart of the mail-clad Greeks\nRapid he flew, and, at their side arrived,\nTo either Ajax, eager, thus began.430\n  Ye leaders of the well-appointed Greeks,\nThe son of noble Peteos calls; he begs\nWith instant suit, that ye would share his toils,\nHowever short your stay; the aid of both\nWill serve him best, for havoc threatens there435\nThe Lycian leaders, ever in assault\nTempestuous, bend their force toward the tower\nHis station. But if also here ye find\nLaborious conflict pressing you severe,\nAt least let Telamonian Ajax come,440\nAnd Teucer with his death-dispensing bow.\n  He spake, nor his request the towering son\nOf Telamon denied, but quick his speech\nTo Ajax O\u00efliades address\u2019d.\n  Ajax! abiding here, exhort ye both445\n(Heroic Lycomedes and thyself)\nThe Greeks to battle. Thither I depart\nTo aid our friends, which service once perform\u2019d\nDuly, I will incontinent return.\n  So saying, the Telamonian Chief withdrew450\nWith whom went Teucer, son of the same sire,\nPandion also, bearing Teucer\u2019s bow.\nArriving at the turret given in charge\nTo the bold Chief Menestheus, and the wall\nEntering, they found their friends all sharply tried.455\nBlack as a storm the senators renown\u2019d\nAnd leaders of the Lycian host assail\u2019d\nButtress and tower, while opposite the Greeks\nWithstood them, and the battle-shout began.\nFirst, Ajax, son of Telamon, a friend460\nAnd fellow-warrior of Sarpedon slew,\nEpicles. With a marble fragment huge\nThat crown\u2019d the battlement\u2019s interior side,\nHe smote him. No man of our puny race,\nAlthough in prime of youth, had with both hands465\nThat weight sustain\u2019d; but he the cumberous mass\nUplifted high, and hurl\u2019d it on his head.\nIt burst his helmet, and his batter\u2019d skull\nDash\u2019d from all form. He from the lofty tower\nDropp\u2019d downright, with a diver\u2019s plunge, and died.470\nBut Teucer wounded Glaucus with a shaft\nSon of Hippolochus; he, climbing, bared\nHis arm, which Teucer, marking, from the wall\nTransfix\u2019d it, and his onset fierce repress\u2019d;\nFor with a backward leap Glaucus withdrew475\nSudden and silent, cautious lest the Greeks\nSeeing him wounded should insult his pain.\nGrief seized, at sight of his retiring friend,\nSarpedon, who forgat not yet the fight,\nBut piercing with his lance Alcmaon, son480\nOf Thestor, suddenly reversed the beam,\nWhich following, Alcmaon to the earth\nFell prone, with clangor of his brazen arms.\nSarpedon, then, strenuous with both hands\nTugg\u2019d, and down fell the battlement entire;485\nThe wall, dismantled at the summit, stood\nA ruin, and wide chasm was open\u2019d through.\nThen Ajax him and Teucer at one time\nStruck both; an arrow struck from Teucer\u2019s bow\nThe belt that cross\u2019d his bosom, by which hung490\nHis ample shield; yet lest his son should fall\nAmong the ships, Jove turn\u2019d the death aside.\nBut Ajax, springing to his thrust, a spear\nDrove through his shield. Sarpedon at the shock\nWith backward step short interval recoil\u2019d,495\nBut not retired, for in his bosom lived\nThe hope of glory still, and, looking back\nOn all his godlike Lycians, he exclaim\u2019d,\n  Oh Lycians! where is your heroic might?\nBrave as I boast myself, I feel the task500\nArduous, through the breach made by myself\nTo win a passage to the ships, alone.\nFollow me all\u2014Most laborers, most dispatch.[4]\n  So he; at whose sharp reprimand abash\u2019d\nThe embattled host to closer conflict moved,505\nObedient to their counsellor and King.\nOn the other side the Greeks within the wall\nMade firm the phalanx, seeing urgent need;\nNor could the valiant Lycians through the breach\nAdmittance to the Grecian fleet obtain,510\nNor since they first approach\u2019d it, had the Greeks\nWith all their efforts, thrust the Lycians back.\nBut as two claimants of one common field,\nEach with his rod of measurement in hand,\nDispute the boundaries, litigating warm515\nTheir right in some small portion of the soil,\nSo they, divided by the barrier, struck\nWith hostile rage the bull-hide bucklers round,\nAnd the light targets on each other\u2019s breast.\nThen many a wound the ruthless weapons made.520\nPierced through the unarm\u2019d back, if any turn\u2019d,\nHe died, and numerous even through the shield.\nThe battlements from end to end with blood\nOf Grecians and of Trojans on both sides\nWere sprinkled; yet no violence could move525\nThe stubborn Greeks, or turn their powers to flight.\nSo hung the war in balance, as the scales\nHeld by some woman scrupulously just,\nA spinner; wool and weight she poises nice,\nHard-earning slender pittance for her babes,[5]530\nSuch was the poise in which the battle hung\nTill Jove himself superior fame, at length,\nTo Priam\u00ebian Hector gave, who sprang\nFirst through the wall. In lofty sounds that reach\u2019d\nTheir utmost ranks, he call\u2019d on all his host.535\n  Now press them, now ye Trojans steed-renown\u2019d\nRush on! break through the Grecian rampart, hurl\nAt once devouring flames into the fleet.\nSuch was his exhortation; they his voice\nAll hearing, with close-order\u2019d ranks direct540\nBore on the barrier, and up-swarming show\u2019d\nOn the high battlement their glittering spears.\nBut Hector seized a stone; of ample base\nBut tapering to a point, before the gate\nIt stood. No two men, mightiest of a land545\n(Such men as now are mighty) could with ease\nHave heaved it from the earth up to a wain;\nHe swung it easily alone; so light\nThe son of Saturn made it in his hand.\nAs in one hand with ease the shepherd bears550\nA ram\u2019s fleece home, nor toils beneath the weight,\nSo Hector, right toward the planks of those\nMajestic folding-gates, close-jointed, firm\nAnd solid, bore the stone. Two bars within\nTheir corresponding force combined transvere555\nTo guard them, and one bolt secured the bars.\nHe stood fast by them, parting wide his feet\nFor \u2019vantage sake, and smote them in the midst.\nHe burst both hinges; inward fell the rock\nPonderous, and the portals roar\u2019d; the bars560\nEndured not, and the planks, riven by the force\nOf that huge mass, flew scatter\u2019d on all sides.\nIn leap\u2019d the godlike Hero at the breach,\nGloomy as night in aspect, but in arms\nAll-dazzling, and he grasp\u2019d two quivering spears.565\nHim entering with a leap the gates, no force\nWhate\u2019er of opposition had repress\u2019d,\nSave of the Gods alone. Fire fill\u2019d his eyes;\nTurning, he bade the multitude without\nAscend the rampart; they his voice obey\u2019d;570\nPart climb\u2019d the wall, part pour\u2019d into the gate;\nThe Grecians to their hollow galleys flew\nScatter\u2019d, and tumult infinite arose.[6]\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XIII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE THIRTEENTH BOOK.\n\nNeptune engages on the part of the Grecians. The battle proceeds.\nDeiphobus advances to combat, but is repulsed by Meriones, who losing\nhis spear, repairs to his tent for another. Teucer slays Imbrius, and\nHector Amphimachus. Neptune, under the similitude of Thoas, exhorts\nIdomeneus. Idomeneus having armed himself in his tent, and going forth\nto battle, meets Meriones. After discourse held with each other,\nIdomeneus accommodates Meriones with a spear, and they proceed to\nbattle. Idomeneus slays Othryoneus, and Asius. Deiphobus assails\nIdomeneus, but, his spear glancing over him, kills Hypsenor. Idomeneus\nslays Alcatho\u00fcs, son-in-law of Anchises. Deiphobus and Idomeneus\nrespectively summon their friends to their assistance, and a contest\nensues for the body of Alcatho\u00fcs.\n\n\nBOOK XIII.\n\n\n[1]When Jove to Hector and his host had given\nSuch entrance to the fleet, to all the woes\nAnd toils of unremitting battle there\nHe them abandon\u2019d, and his glorious eyes\nAverting, on the land look\u2019d down remote5\nOf the horse-breeding Thracians, of the bold\nClose-fighting Mysian race, and where abide\nOn milk sustain\u2019d, and blest with length of days,\nThe Hippemolgi,[2] justest of mankind.\nNo longer now on Troy his eyes he turn\u2019d,10\nFor expectation none within his breast\nSurvived, that God or Goddess would the Greeks\nApproach with succor, or the Trojans more.\n  Nor Neptune, sovereign of the boundless Deep,\nLook\u2019d forth in vain; he on the summit sat15\nOf Samothracia forest-crown\u2019d, the stir\nAdmiring thence and tempest of the field;\nFor thence appear\u2019d all Ida, thence the towers\nOf lofty Ilium, and the fleet of Greece.\nThere sitting from the deeps uprisen, he mourn\u2019d20\nThe vanquished Grecians, and resentment fierce\nConceived and wrath against all-ruling Jove.\nArising sudden, down the rugged steep\nWith rapid strides he came; the mountains huge\nAnd forests under the immortal feet25\nTrembled of Ocean\u2019s Sovereign as he strode.\nThree strides he made, the fourth convey\u2019d him home\nTo \u00c6g\u00e6. At the bottom of the abyss,\nThere stands magnificent his golden fane,\nA dazzling, incorruptible abode.30\nArrived, he to his chariot join\u2019d his steeds\nSwift, brazen-hoof\u2019d, and maned with wavy gold;\nHimself attiring next in gold, he seized\nHis golden scourge, and to his seat sublime\nAscending, o\u2019er the billows drove; the whales35\nLeaving their caverns, gambol\u2019d on all sides\nAround him, not unconscious of their King;\nHe swept the surge that tinged not as he pass\u2019d\nHis axle, and the sea parted for joy.\nHis bounding coursers to the Grecian fleet40\nConvey\u2019d him swift. There is a spacious cave\nDeep in the bottom of the flood, the rocks\nOf Imbrus rude and Tenedos between;\nThere Neptune, Shaker of the Shores, his steeds\nStation\u2019d secure; he loosed them from the yoke,45\nGave them ambrosial food, and bound their feet\nWith golden tethers not to be untied\nOr broken, that unwandering they might wait\nTheir Lord\u2019s return, then sought the Grecian host.\nThe Trojans, tempest-like or like a flame,50\nNow, following Priame\u00efan Hector, all\nCame furious on and shouting to the skies.\nTheir hope was to possess the fleet, and leave\nNot an Achaian of the host unslain.\nBut earth-encircler Neptune from the gulf55\nEmerging, in the form and with the voice\nLoud-toned of Calchas, roused the Argive ranks\nTo battle\u2014and his exhortation first\nTo either Ajax turn\u2019d, themselves prepared.\n  Ye heroes Ajax! your accustomed force60\nExert, oh! think not of disastrous flight,\nAnd ye shall save the people. Nought I fear\nFatal elsewhere, although Troy\u2019s haughty sons\nHave pass\u2019d the barrier with so fierce a throng\nTumultuous; for the Grecians brazen-greaved65\nWill check them there. Here only I expect\nAnd with much dread some dire event forebode,\nWhere Hector, terrible as fire, and loud\nVaunting his glorious origin from Jove,\nLeads on the Trojans. Oh that from on high70\nSome God would form the purpose in your hearts\nTo stand yourselves firmly, and to exhort\nThe rest to stand! so should ye chase him hence\nAll ardent as he is, and even although\nOlympian Jove himself his rage inspire.75\n  So Neptune spake, compasser of the earth,\nAnd, with his sceptre smiting both, their hearts\nFill\u2019d with fresh fortitude; their limbs the touch\nMade agile, wing\u2019d their feet and nerved their arms.\nThen, swift as stoops a falcon from the point80\nOf some rude rock sublime, when he would chase\nA fowl of other wing along the meads,\nSo started Neptune thence, and disappear\u2019d.\nHim, as he went, swift O\u00efliades\nFirst recognized, and, instant, thus his speech85\nTo Ajax, son of Telamon, address\u2019d.\n  Since, Ajax, some inhabitant of heaven\nExhorts us, in the prophet\u2019s form to fight\n(For prophet none or augur we have seen;\nThis was not Calchas; as he went I mark\u2019d90\nHis steps and knew him; Gods are known with ease)\nI feel my spirit in my bosom fired\nAfresh for battle; lightness in my limbs,\nIn hands and feet a glow unfelt before.\n  To whom the son of Telamon replied.95\nI also with invigorated hands\nMore firmly grasp my spear; my courage mounts,\nA buoyant animation in my feet\nBears me along, and I am all on fire\nTo cope with Priam\u2019s furious son, alone.100\n  Thus they, with martial transport to their souls\nImparted by the God, conferr\u2019d elate.\nMeantime the King of Ocean roused the Greeks,\nWho in the rear, beside their gallant barks\nSome respite sought. They, spent with arduous toil,105\nFelt not alone their weary limbs unapt\nTo battle, but their hearts with grief oppress\u2019d,\nSeeing the numerous multitude of Troy\nWithin the mighty barrier; sad they view\u2019d\nThat sight, and bathed their cheeks with many a tear,110\nDespairing of escape. But Ocean\u2019s Lord\nEntering among them, soon the spirit stirr\u2019d\nOf every valiant phalanx to the fight.\nTeucer and Le\u00eftus, and famed in arms\nPeneleus, Thoas and Deipyrus,115\nMeriones, and his compeer renown\u2019d,\nAntilochus; all these in accents wing\u2019d\nWith fierce alacrity the God address\u2019d.\n  Oh shame, ye Grecians! vigorous as ye are\nAnd in life\u2019s prime, to your exertions most120\nI trusted for the safety of our ships.\nIf _ye_ renounce the labors of the field,\nThen hath the day arisen of our defeat\nAnd final ruin by the powers of Troy.\nOh! I behold a prodigy, a sight125\nTremendous, deem\u2019d impossible by me,\nThe Trojans at our ships! the dastard race\nFled once like fleetest hinds the destined prey\nOf lynxes, leopards, wolves; feeble and slight\nAnd of a nature indisposed to war130\nThey rove uncertain; so the Trojans erst\nStood not, nor to Achaian prowess dared\nThe hindrance of a moment\u2019s strife oppose.\nBut now, Troy left afar, even at our ships\nThey give us battle, through our leader\u2019s fault135\nAnd through the people\u2019s negligence, who fill\u2019d\nWith fierce displeasure against _him_, prefer\nDeath at their ships, to war in their defence.\nBut if the son of Atreus, our supreme,\nIf Agamemnon, have indeed transgress\u2019d140\nPast all excuse, dishonoring the swift\nAchilles, ye at least the fight decline\nBlame-worthy, and with no sufficient plea.\nBut heal we speedily the breach; brave minds\nEasily coalesce. It is not well145\nThat thus your fury slumbers, for the host\nHath none illustrious as yourselves in arms.\nI can excuse the timid if he shrink,\nBut am incensed at _you_. My friends, beware!\nYour tardiness will prove ere long the cause150\nOf some worse evil. Let the dread of shame\nAffect your hearts; oh tremble at the thought\nOf infamy! Fierce conflict hath arisen;\nLoud shouting Hector combats at the ships\nNobly, hath forced the gates and burst the bar.155\n  With such encouragement those Grecian chiefs\nThe King of Ocean roused. Then, circled soon\nBy many a phalanx either Ajax stood,\nWhose order Mars himself arriving there\nHad praised, or Pallas, patroness of arms.160\nFor there the flower of all expected firm\nBold Hector and his host; spear crowded spear,\nShield, helmet, man, press\u2019d helmet, man and shield;[3]\nThe hairy crests of their resplendent casques\nKiss\u2019d close at every nod, so wedged they stood;165\nNo spear was seen but in the manly grasp\nIt quiver\u2019d, and their every wish was war.\nThe powers of Ilium gave the first assault\nEmbattled close; them Hector led himself[4]\nRight on, impetuous as a rolling rock170\nDestructive; torn by torrent waters off\nFrom its old lodgment on the mountain\u2019s brow,\nIt bounds, it shoots away; the crashing wood\nFalls under it; impediment or check\nNone stays its fury, till the level found,175\nThere, settling by degrees, it rolls no more;\nSo after many a threat that he would pass\nEasily through the Grecian camp and fleet\nAnd slay to the sea-brink, when Hector once\nHad fallen on those firm ranks, standing, he bore180\nVehement on them; but by many a spear\nUrged and bright falchion, soon, reeling, retired,\nAnd call\u2019d vociferous on the host of Troy.\n  Trojans, and Lycians, and close-fighting sons\nOf Dardanus, oh stand! not long the Greeks185\nWill me confront, although embodied close\nIn solid phalanx; doubt it not; my spear\nShall chase and scatter them, if Jove, in truth,\nHigh-thundering mate of Juno, bid me on.\n  So saying he roused the courage of them all190\nForemost of whom advanced, of Priam\u2019s race\nDeiphobus, ambitious of renown.\nTripping he came with shorten\u2019d steps,[5] his feet\nSheltering behind his buckler; but at him\nAiming, Meriones his splendid lance195\nDismiss\u2019d, nor err\u2019d; his bull-hide targe he struck\nBut ineffectual; where the hollow wood\nReceives the inserted brass, the quivering beam\nSnapp\u2019d; then, Deiphobus his shield afar\nAdvanced before him, trembling at a spear200\nHurl\u2019d by Meriones. He, moved alike\nWith indignation for the victory lost\nAnd for his broken spear, into his band\nAt first retired, but soon set forth again\nIn prowess through the Achaian camp, to fetch205\nIts fellow-spear within his tent reserved.\n  The rest all fought, and dread the shouts arose\nOn all sides. Telamonian Teucer, first,\nSlew valiant Imbrius, son of Mentor, rich\nIn herds of sprightly steeds. He ere the Greeks210\nArrived at Ilium, in Ped\u00e6us dwelt,\nAnd Priam\u2019s spurious daughter had espoused\nMedesicasta. But the barks well-oar\u2019d\nOf Greece arriving, he return\u2019d to Troy,\nWhere he excell\u2019d the noblest, and abode215\nWith Priam, loved and honor\u2019d as his own.\nHim Teucer pierced beneath his ear, and pluck\u2019d\nHis weapon home; he fell as falls an ash\nWhich on some mountain visible afar,\nHewn from its bottom by the woodman\u2019s axe,220\nWith all its tender foliage meets the ground\nSo Imbrius fell; loud rang his armor bright\nWith ornamental brass, and Teucer flew\nTo seize his arms, whom hasting to the spoil\nHector with his resplendent spear assail\u2019d;225\nHe, marking opposite its rapid flight,\nDeclined it narrowly and it pierced the breast,\nAs he advanced to battle, of the son\nOf Cteatus of the Actorian race,\nAmphimachus; he, sounding, smote the plain,230\nAnd all his batter\u2019d armor rang aloud.\nThen Hector swift approaching, would have torn\nThe well-forged helmet from the brows away\nOf brave Amphimachus; but Ajax hurl\u2019d\nRight forth at Hector hasting to the spoil235\nHis radiant spear; no wound the spear impress\u2019d,\nFor he was arm\u2019d complete in burnish\u2019d brass\nTerrific; but the solid boss it pierced\nOf Hector\u2019s shield, and with enormous force\nSo shock\u2019d him, that retiring he resign\u2019d240\nBoth bodies,[6] which the Grecians dragg\u2019d away.\nStichius and Menestheus, leaders both\nOf the Athenians, to the host of Greece\nBore off Amphimachus, and, fierce in arms\nThe Ajaces, Imbrius. As two lions bear245\nThrough thick entanglement of boughs and brakes\nA goat snatch\u2019d newly from the peasants\u2019 cogs,\nUpholding high their prey above the ground,\nSo either Ajax terrible in fight,\nUpholding Imbrius high, his brazen arms250\nTore off, and O\u00efliades his head\nFrom his smooth neck dissevering in revenge\nFor slain Amphimachus, through all the host\nSent it with swift rotation like a globe,\nTill in the dust at Hector\u2019s feet it fell.255\n  Then anger fill\u2019d the heart of Ocean\u2019s King,\nHis grandson[7] slain in battle; forth he pass\u2019d\nThrough the Achaian camp and fleet, the Greeks\nRousing, and meditating wo to Troy.\nIt chanced that brave Idomeneus return\u2019d260\nThat moment from a Cretan at the knee\nWounded, and newly borne into his tent;\nHis friends had borne him off, and when the Chief\nHad given him into skilful hands, he sought\nThe field again, still coveting renown.265\nHim therefore, meeting him on his return,\nNeptune bespake, but with the borrow\u2019d voice\nOf Thoas, offspring of Andr\u00e6mon, King\nIn Pleuro and in lofty Calydon,\nAnd honor\u2019d by the \u00c6tolians as a God.270\n  Oh counsellor of Crete! our threats denounced\nAgainst the towers of Troy, where are they now?\n  To whom the leader of the Cretans, thus,\nIdomeneus. For aught that I perceive\nThoas! no Grecian is this day in fault!275\nFor we are all intelligent in arms,\nNone yields by fear oppress\u2019d, none lull\u2019d by sloth\nFrom battle shrinks; but such the pleasure seems\nOf Jove himself, that we should perish here\nInglorious, from our country far remote280\nBut, Thoas! (for thine heart was ever firm\nIn battle, and thyself art wont to rouse\nWhom thou observ\u2019st remiss) now also fight\nAs erst, and urge each leader of the host.\n  Him answered, then, the Sovereign of the Deep.285\nReturn that Grecian never from the shores\nOf Troy, Idomeneus! but may the dogs\nFeast on him, who shall this day intermit\nThrough wilful negligence his force in fight!\nBut haste, take arms and come; we must exert290\nAll diligence, that, being only two,\nWe yet may yield some service. Union much\nEmboldens even the weakest, and our might\nHath oft been proved on warriors of renown.\n  So Neptune spake, and, turning, sought again295\nThe toilsome field. Ere long, Idomeneus\nArriving in his spacious tent, put on\nHis radiant armor, and, two spears in hand,\nSet forth like lightning which Saturnian Jove\nFrom bright Olympus shakes into the air,300\nA sign to mortal men, dazzling all eyes;\nSo beam\u2019d the Hero\u2019s armor as he ran.\nBut him not yet far distant from his tent\nMeriones, his fellow-warrior met,\nFor he had left the fight, seeking a spear,305\nWhen thus the brave Idomeneus began.\n  Swift son of Molus! chosen companion dear!\nWherefore, Meriones, hast thou the field\nAbandon\u2019d? Art thou wounded? Bring\u2019st thou home\nSome pointed mischief in thy flesh infixt?310\nOr comest thou sent to me, who of myself\nThe still tent covet not, but feats of arms?\n  To whom Meriones discreet replied,\nChief leader of the Cretans, brazen-mail\u2019d\nIdomeneus! if yet there be a spear315\nLeft in thy tent, I seek one; for I broke\nThe spear, even now, with which erewhile I fought,\nSmiting the shield of fierce Deiphobus.\n  Then answer thus the Cretan Chief return\u2019d,\nValiant Idomeneus. If spears thou need,320\nWithin my tent, leaning against the wall,\nStand twenty spears and one, forged all in Troy,\nWhich from the slain I took; for distant fight\nMe suits not; therefore in my tent have I\nBoth spears and bossy shields, with brazen casques325\nAnd corselets bright that smile against the sun.\n  Him answer\u2019d, then, Meriones discreet.\nI also, at my tent and in my ship\nHave many Trojan spoils, but they are hence\nFar distant. I not less myself than thou330\nAm ever mindful of a warrior\u2019s part,\nAnd when the din of glorious arms is heard,\nFight in the van. If other Greeks my deeds\nKnow not, at least I judge them known to thee.\n  To whom the leader of the host of Crete335\nIdomeneus. I know thy valor well,\nWhy speakest thus to me? Choose we this day\nAn ambush forth of all the bravest Greeks,\n(For in the ambush is distinguish\u2019d best\nThe courage; there the timorous and the bold340\nPlainly appear; the dastard changes hue\nAnd shifts from place to place, nor can he calm\nThe fears that shake his trembling limbs, but sits\nLow-crouching on his hams, while in his breast\nQuick palpitates his death-foreboding heart,345\nAnd his teeth chatter; but the valiant man\nHis posture shifts not; no excessive fears\nFeels he, but seated once in ambush, deems\nTime tedious till the bloody fight begin;)\nEven there, thy courage should no blame incur.[8]350\nFor should\u2019st thou, toiling in the fight, by spear\nOr falchion bleed, not on thy neck behind\nWould fall the weapon, or thy back annoy,\nBut it would meet thy bowels or thy chest\nWhile thou didst rush into the clamorous van.355\nBut haste\u2014we may not longer loiter here\nAs children prating, lest some sharp rebuke\nReward us. Enter quick, and from within\nMy tent provide thee with a noble spear.\n  Then, swift as Mars, Meriones produced360\nA brazen spear of those within the tent\nReserved, and kindling with heroic fire\nFollow\u2019d Idomeneus. As gory Mars\nBy Terror follow\u2019d, his own dauntless son\nWho quells the boldest heart, to battle moves;365\nFrom Thrace against the Ephyri they arm,\nOr hardy Phlegyans, and by both invoked,\nHear and grant victory to which they please;\nSuch, bright in arms Meriones, and such\nIdomeneus advanced, when foremost thus370\nMeriones his fellow-chief bespake.\n  Son of Deucalion! where inclinest thou most\nTo enter into battle? On the right\nOf all the host? or through the central ranks?\nOr on the left? for nowhere I account375\nThe Greeks so destitute of force as there.\n  Then answer thus Idomeneus return\u2019d\nChief of the Cretans. Others stand to guard\nThe middle fleet; there either Ajax wars,\nAnd Teucer, noblest archer of the Greeks,380\nNor less in stationary fight approved.\nBent as he is on battle, they will task\nAnd urge to proof sufficiently the force\nOf Priame\u00efan Hector; burn his rage\nHow fierce soever, he shall find it hard,385\nWith all his thirst of victory, to quell\nTheir firm resistance, and to fire the fleet,\nLet not Saturnian Jove cast down from heaven\nHimself a flaming brand into the ships.\nHigh towering Telamonian Ajax yields390\nTo no mere mortal by the common gift\nSustain\u2019d of Ceres, and whose flesh the spear\nCan penetrate, or rocky fragment bruise;\nIn standing fight Ajax would not retire\nEven before that breaker of the ranks395\nAchilles, although far less swift than he.\nBut turn we to the left, that we may learn\nAt once, if glorious death, or life be ours.\n  Then, rapid as the God of war, his course\nMeriones toward the left began,400\nAs he enjoin\u2019d. Soon as the Trojans saw\nIdomeneus advancing like a flame,\nAnd his compeer Meriones in arms\nAll-radiant clad, encouraging aloud\nFrom rank to rank each other, on they came405\nTo the assault combined. Then soon arose\nSharp contest on the left of all the fleet.\nAs when shrill winds blow vehement, what time\nDust deepest spreads the ways, by warring blasts\nUpborne a sable cloud stands in the air,410\nSuch was the sudden conflict; equal rage\nTo stain with gore the lance ruled every breast.\nHorrent with quivering spears the fatal field\nFrown\u2019d on all sides; the brazen flashes dread\nOf numerous helmets, corselets furbish\u2019d bright,415\nAnd shields refulgent meeting, dull\u2019d the eye,\nAnd turn\u2019d it dark away. Stranger indeed\nWere he to fear, who could that strife have view\u2019d\nWith heart elate, or spirit unperturb\u2019d.\n  Two mighty sons of Saturn adverse parts420\nTook in that contest, purposing alike\nTo many a valiant Chief sorrow and pain.\nJove, for the honor of Achilles, gave\nSuccess to Hector and the host of Troy,\nNot for complete destruction of the Greeks425\nAt Ilium, but that glory might redound\nTo Thetis thence, and to her dauntless son.\nOn the other side, the King of Ocean risen\nSecretly from the hoary Deep, the host\nOf Greece encouraged, whom he grieved to see430\nVanquish\u2019d by Trojans, and with anger fierce\nAgainst the Thunderer burn\u2019d on their behalf.\nAlike from one great origin divine\nSprang they, but Jove was elder, and surpass\u2019d\nIn various knowledge; therefore when he roused435\nTheir courage, Neptune traversed still the ranks\nClandestine, and in human form disguised.\nThus, these Immortal Two, straining the cord\nIndissoluble of all-wasting war,\nAlternate measured with it either host,440\nAnd loosed the joints of many a warrior bold.\nThen, loud exhorting (though himself with age\nHalf grey) the Achaians, into battle sprang\nIdomeneus, and scatter\u2019d, first, the foe,\nSlaying Othryoneus, who, by the lure445\nOf martial glory drawn, had left of late\nCabesus. He Priam\u2019s fair daughter woo\u2019d\nCassandra, but no nuptial gift vouchsafed\nTo offer, save a sounding promise proud\nTo chase, himself, however resolute450\nThe Grecian host, and to deliver Troy.\nTo him assenting, Priam, ancient King,\nAssured to him his wish, and in the faith\nOf that assurance confident, he fought.\nBut brave Idomeneus his splendid lance455\nWell-aim\u2019d dismissing, struck the haughty Chief.\nPacing elate the field; his brazen mail\nEndured not; through his bowels pierced, with clang\nOf all his arms he fell, and thus with joy\nImmense exulting, spake Idomeneus.460\n  I give thee praise, Othryoneus! beyond\nAll mortal men, if truly thou perform\nThy whole big promise to the Dardan king,\nWho promised thee his daughter. Now, behold,\nWe also promise: doubt not the effect.465\nWe give into thy arms the most admired\nOf Agamemnon\u2019s daughters, whom ourselves\nWill hither bring from Argos, if thy force\nWith ours uniting, thou wilt rase the walls\nOf populous Troy. Come\u2014follow me; that here470\nAmong the ships we may adjust the terms\nOf marriage, for we take not scanty dower.\n  So saying, the Hero dragg\u2019d him by his heel\nThrough all the furious fight. His death to avenge\nAsius on foot before his steeds advanced,475\nFor them, where\u2019er he moved, his charioteer\nKept breathing ever on his neck behind.\nWith fierce desire the heart of Asius burn\u2019d\nTo smite Idomeneus, who with his lance\nHim reaching first, pierced him beneath the chin480\nInto his throat, and urged the weapon through.\nHe fell, as some green poplar falls, or oak,\nOr lofty pine, by naval artists hewn\nWith new-edged axes on the mountain\u2019s side.\nSo, his teeth grinding, and the bloody dust485\nClenching, before his chariot and his steeds\nExtended, Asius lay. His charioteer\n(All recollection lost) sat panic-stunn\u2019d,\nNor dared for safety turn his steeds to flight.\nHim bold Antilochus right through the waist490\nTranspierced; his mail sufficed not, but the spear\nImplanted in his midmost bowels stood.\nDown from his seat magnificent he fell\nPanting, and young Antilochus the steeds\nDrove captive thence into the host of Greece.495\nThen came Deiphobus by sorrow urged\nFor Asius, and, small interval between,\nHurl\u2019d at Idomeneus his glittering lance;\nBut he, foreseeing its approach, the point\nEluded, cover\u2019d whole by his round shield500\nOf hides and brass by double belt sustain\u2019d,\nAnd it flew over him, but on his targe\nGlancing, elicited a tinkling sound.\nYet left it not in vain his vigorous grasp,\nBut pierced the liver of Hypsenor, son505\nOf Hippasus; he fell incontinent,\nAnd measureless exulting in his fall\nDeiphobus with mighty voice exclaim\u2019d.\n  Not unavenged lies Asius; though he seek\nHell\u2019s iron portals, yet shall he rejoice,510\nFor I have given him a conductor home.\n  So he, whose vaunt the Greeks indignant heard!\nBut of them all to anger most he roused\nAntilochus, who yet his breathless friend[9]\nLeft not, but hasting, fenced him with his shield,515\nAnd brave Alastor with Mecisteus son\nOf Echius, bore him to the hollow ships\nDeep-groaning both, for of their band was he.\nNor yet Idomeneus his warlike rage\nRemitted aught, but persevering strove520\nEither to plunge some Trojan in the shades,\nOr fall himself, guarding the fleet of Greece.\nThen slew he brave Alcatho\u00fcs the son\nOf \u00c6syeta, and the son-in-law\nOf old Anchises, who to him had given525\nThe eldest-born of all his daughters fair,\nHippodamia; dearly loved was she\nBy both her parents in her virgin state,[10]\nFor that in beauty she surpass\u2019d, in works\nIngenious, and in faculties of mind530\nAll her co\u00ebvals; wherefore she was deem\u2019d\nWell worthy of the noblest prince of Troy.\nHim in that moment, Neptune by the arm\nQuell\u2019d of Idomeneus, his radiant eyes\nDimming, and fettering his proportion\u2019d limbs.535\nAll power of flight or to elude the stroke\nForsook him, and while motionless he stood\nAs stands a pillar tall or towering oak,\nThe hero of the Cretans with a spear\nTransfix\u2019d his middle chest. He split the mail540\nErewhile his bosom\u2019s faithful guard; shrill rang\nThe shiver\u2019d brass; sounding he fell; the beam\nImplanted in his palpitating heart\nShook to its topmost point, but, its force spent,\nAt last, quiescent, stood. Then loud exclaim\u2019d545\nIdomeneus, exulting in his fall.\n  What thinks Deiphobus? seems it to thee\nVain boaster, that, three warriors slain for one,\nWe yield thee just amends? else, stand thyself\nAgainst me; learn the valor of a Chief550\nThe progeny of Jove; Jove first begat\nCrete\u2019s guardian, Minos, from which Minos sprang\nDeucalion, and from famed Deucalion, I;\nI, sovereign of the numerous race of Crete\u2019s\nExtensive isle, and whom my galleys brought555\nTo these your shores at last, that I might prove\nThy curse, thy father\u2019s, and a curse to Troy.\n  He spake; Deiphobus uncertain stood\nWhether, retreating, to engage the help\nOf some heroic Trojan, or himself560\nTo make the dread experiment alone.\nAt length, as his discreeter course, he chose\nTo seek \u00c6neas; him he found afar\nStation\u2019d, remotest of the host of Troy,\nFor he resented evermore his worth565\nBy Priam[11] recompensed with cold neglect.\nApproaching him, in accents wing\u2019d he said.\n  \u00c6neas! Trojan Chief! If e\u2019er thou lov\u2019dst\nThy sister\u2019s husband, duty calls thee now\nTo prove it. Haste\u2014defend with me the dead570\nAlcatho\u00fcs, guardian of thy tender years,\nSlain by Idomeneus the spear-renown\u2019d.\n  So saying, he roused his spirit, and on fire\nTo combat with the Cretan, forth he sprang.\nBut fear seized not Idomeneus as fear575\nMay seize a nursling boy; resolved he stood\nAs in the mountains, conscious of his force,\nThe wild boar waits a coming multitude\nOf boisterous hunters to his lone retreat;\nArching his bristly spine he stands, his eyes580\nBeam fire, and whetting his bright tusks, he burns\nTo drive, not dogs alone, but men to flight;\nSo stood the royal Cretan, and fled not,\nExpecting brave \u00c6neas; yet his friends\nHe summon\u2019d, on Ascalaphus his eyes585\nFastening, on Aphareus, Deipyrus,\nMeriones, and Antilochus, all bold\nIn battle, and in accents wing\u2019d exclaim\u2019d.\n  Haste ye, my friends! to aid me, for I stand\nAlone, nor undismay\u2019d the coming wait590\nOf swift \u00c6neas, nor less brave than swift,\nAnd who possesses fresh his flower of youth,\nMan\u2019s prime advantage; were we match\u2019d in years\nAs in our spirits, either he should earn\nAt once the meed of deathless fame, or I.595\n  He said; they all unanimous approach\u2019d,\nSloping their shields, and stood. On the other side\nHis aids \u00c6neas call\u2019d, with eyes toward\nParis, Deiphobus, Agenor, turn\u2019d,\nHis fellow-warriors bold; them follow\u2019d all600\nTheir people as the pastured flock the ram\nTo water, by the shepherd seen with joy;\nSuch joy \u00c6neas felt, seeing, so soon,\nThat numerous host attendant at his call.\nThen, for Alcatho\u00fcs, into contest close605\nArm\u2019d with long spears they rush\u2019d; on every breast\nDread rang the brazen corselet, each his foe\nAssailing opposite; but two, the rest\nSurpassing far, terrible both as Mars,\n\u00c6neas and Idomeneus, alike610\nPanted to pierce each other with the spear.\n\u00c6neas, first, cast at Idomeneus,\nBut, warn\u2019d, he shunn\u2019d the weapon, and it pass\u2019d.\nQuivering in the soil \u00c6neas\u2019 lance\nStood, hurl\u2019d in vain, though by a forceful arm.615\nNot so the Cretan; at his waist he pierced\nOenoma\u00fcs, his hollow corselet clave,\nAnd in his midmost bowels drench\u2019d the spear;\nDown fell the Chief, and dying, clench\u2019d the dust.\nInstant, his massy spear the King of Crete620\nPluck\u2019d from the dead, but of his radiant arms\nDespoil\u2019d him not, by numerous weapons urged;\nFor now, time-worn, he could no longer make\nBrisk sally, spring to follow his own spear,\nOr shun another, or by swift retreat625\nVanish from battle, but the evil day\nWarded in stationary fight alone.\nAt him retiring, therefore, step by step\nDeiphobus, who had with bitterest hate\nLong time pursued him, hurl\u2019d his splendid lance,630\nBut yet again erroneous, for he pierced\nAscalaphus instead, offspring of Mars;\nRight through his shoulder flew the spear; he fell\nIncontinent, and dying, clench\u2019d the dust.\nBut tidings none the brazen-throated Mars635\nTempestuous yet received, that his own son\nIn bloody fight had fallen, for on the heights\nOlympian over-arch\u2019d with clouds of gold\nHe sat, where sat the other Powers divine,\nPrisoners together of the will of Jove.640\nMeantime, for slain Ascalaphus arose\nConflict severe; Deiphobus his casque\nResplendent seized, but swift as fiery Mars\nAssailing him, Meriones his arm\nPierced with a spear, and from his idle hand645\nFallen, the casque sonorous struck the ground.\nAgain, as darts the vulture on his prey,\nMeriones assailing him, the lance\nPluck\u2019d from his arm, and to his band retired.\nThen, casting his fraternal arms around650\nDeiphobus, him young Polites led\nFrom the hoarse battle to his rapid steeds\nAnd his bright chariot in the distant rear,\nWhich bore him back to Troy, languid and loud-\nGroaning, and bleeding from his recent wound.655\nStill raged the war, and infinite arose\nThe clamor. Aphareus, Caletor\u2019s son,\nTurning to face \u00c6neas, in his throat\nInstant the hero\u2019s pointed lance received.\nWith head reclined, and bearing to the ground660\nBuckler and helmet with him, in dark shades\nOf soul-divorcing death involved, he fell.\nAntilochus, observing Tho\u00f6n turn\u2019d\nTo flight, that moment pierced him; from his back\nHe ripp\u2019d the vein which through the trunk its course665\nWinds upward to the neck; that vein he ripp\u2019d\nAll forth; supine he fell, and with both hands\nExtended to his fellow-warriors, died.\nForth sprang Antilochus to strip his arms,\nBut watch\u2019d, meantime, the Trojans, who in crowds670\nEncircling him, his splendid buckler broad\nSmote oft, but none with ruthless point prevail\u2019d\nEven to inscribe the skin of Nestor\u2019s son,\nWhom Neptune, shaker of the shores, amid\nInnumerable darts kept still secure.675\nYet never from his foes he shrank, but faced\nFrom side to side, nor idle slept his spear,\nBut with rotation ceaseless turn\u2019d and turn\u2019d\nTo every part, now levell\u2019d at a foe\nFar-distant, at a foe, now, near at hand.680\nNor he, thus occupied, unseen escaped\nBy Asius\u2019 offspring Adamas, who close\nAdvancing, struck the centre of his shield.\nBut Neptune azure-hair\u2019d so dear a life\nDenied to Adamas, and render\u2019d vain685\nThe weapon; part within his disk remain\u2019d\nLike a seer\u2019d stake, and part fell at his feet.\nThen Adamas, for his own life alarm\u2019d,\nRetired, but as he went, Meriones\nHim reaching with his lance, the shame between690\nAnd navel pierced him, where the stroke of Mars\nProves painful most to miserable man.\nThere enter\u2019d deep the weapon; down he fell,\nAnd in the dust lay panting as an ox\nAmong the mountains pants by peasants held695\nIn twisted bands, and dragg\u2019d perforce along;\nSo panted dying Adamas, but soon\nCeased, for Meriones, approaching, pluck\u2019d\nThe weapon forth, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nHelenus, with his heavy Thracian blade700\nSmiting the temples of Deipyrus,\nDash\u2019d off his helmet; from his brows remote\nIt fell, and wandering roll\u2019d, till at his feet\nSome warrior found it, and secured; meantime\nThe sightless shades of death him wrapp\u2019d around.705\nGrief at that spectacle the bosom fill\u2019d\nOf valiant Menelaus; high he shook\nHis radiant spear, and threatening him, advanced\nOn royal Helenus, who ready stood\nWith his bow bent. They met; impatient, one,710\nTo give his pointed lance its rapid course,\nAnd one, to start his arrow from the nerve.\nThe arrow of the son of Priam struck\nAtrides\u2019 hollow corselet, but the reed\nGlanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans715\nLeap from the van and fly athwart the floor,\nBy sharp winds driven, and by the winnower\u2019s force,\nSo from the corselet of the glorious Greek\nWide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away.\nBut Menelaus the left-hand transpierced720\nOf Helenus, and with the lance\u2019s point\nFasten\u2019d it to his bow; shunning a stroke\nMore fatal, Helenus into his band\nRetired, his arm dependent at his side,\nAnd trailing, as he went, the ashen beam;725\nThere, bold Agenor from his hand the lance\nDrew forth, then folded it with softest wool\nAround, sling-wool, and borrow\u2019d from the sling\nWhich his attendant into battle bore.\nThen sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief730\nThe son of Atreus, but his evil fate\nBeckon\u2019d him to his death in conflict fierce,\nOh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee.\nAnd now they met, small interval between.\nAtrides hurl\u2019d his weapon, and it err\u2019d.735\nPisander with his spear struck full the shield\nOf glorious Menelaus, but his force\nResisted by the stubborn buckler broad\nFail\u2019d to transpierce it, and the weapon fell\nSnapp\u2019d at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart740\nRebounded of Pisander, full of hope.\nBut Menelaus, drawing his bright blade,\nSprang on him, while Pisander from behind\nHis buckler drew a brazen battle-axe\nBy its long haft of polish\u2019d olive-wood,745\nAnd both Chiefs struck together. He the crest\nThat crown\u2019d the shaggy casque of Atreus\u2019 son\nHew\u2019d from its base, but Menelaus him\nIn his swift onset smote full on the front\nAbove his nose; sounded the shatter\u2019d bone,750\nAnd his eyes both fell bloody at his feet.\nConvolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast\nAtrides setting fast his heel, tore off\nHis armor, and exulting thus began.\n  So shall ye leave at length the Grecian fleet,755\nTraitors, and never satisfied with war!\nNor want ye other guilt, dogs and profane!\nBut me have injured also, and defied\nThe hot displeasure of high-thundering Jove\nThe hospitable, who shall waste in time,760\nAnd level with the dust your lofty Troy.\nI wrong\u2019d not you, yet bore ye far away\nMy youthful bride who welcomed you, and stole\nMy treasures also, and ye now are bent\nTo burn Achaia\u2019s gallant fleet with fire765\nAnd slay her heroes; but your furious thirst\nOf battle shall hereafter meet a check.\nOh, Father Jove! Thee wisest we account\nIn heaven or earth, yet from thyself proceed\nAll these calamities, who favor show\u2019st770\nTo this flagitious race the Trojans, strong\nIn wickedness alone, and whose delight\nIn war and bloodshed never can be cloy\u2019d.\nAll pleasures breed satiety, sweet sleep,\nSoft dalliance, music, and the graceful dance,775\nThough sought with keener appetite by most\nThan bloody war; but Troy still covets blood.\n  So spake the royal Chief, and to his friends\nPisander\u2019s gory spoils consigning, flew\nTo mingle in the foremost fight again.780\nHim, next, Harpalion, offspring of the King\nPyl\u00e6menes assail\u2019d; to Troy he came\nFollowing his sire, but never thence return\u2019d.\nHe, from small distance, smote the central boss\nOf Menelaus\u2019 buckler with his lance,785\nBut wanting power to pierce it, with an eye\nOf cautious circumspection, lest perchance\nSome spear should reach him, to his band retired.\nBut him retiring with a brazen shaft\nMeriones pursued; swift flew the dart790\nTo his right buttock, slipp\u2019d beneath the bone,\nHis bladder grazed, and started through before.\nThere ended his retreat; sudden he sank\nAnd like a worm lay on the ground, his life\nExhaling in his fellow-warrior\u2019s arms,795\nAnd with his sable blood soaking the plain.\nAround him flock\u2019d his Paphlagonians bold,\nAnd in his chariot placed drove him to Troy,\nWith whom his father went, mourning with tears\nA son, whose death he never saw avenged.800\n  Him slain with indignation Paris view\u2019d,\nFor he, with numerous Paphlagonians more\nHis guest had been; he, therefore, in the thirst\nOf vengeance, sent a brazen arrow forth.\nThere was a certain Greek, Euchenor, son805\nOf Polyides the soothsayer, rich\nAnd brave in fight, and who in Corinth dwelt\nHe, knowing well his fate, yet sail\u2019d to Troy\nFor Polyides oft, his reverend sire,\nHad prophecied that he should either die810\nBy some dire malady at home, or, slain\nBy Trojan hands, amid the fleet of Greece.\nHe, therefore, shunning the reproach alike\nOf the Achaians, and that dire disease,\nHad join\u2019d the Grecian host; him Paris pierced815\nThe ear and jaw beneath; life at the stroke\nLeft him, and darkness overspread his eyes.\n  So raged the battle like devouring fire.\nBut Hector dear to Jove not yet had learn\u2019d,\nNor aught surmised the havoc of his host820\nMade on the left, where victory crown\u2019d well-nigh\nThe Grecians animated to the fight\nBy Neptune seconding himself their arms.\nHe, where he first had started through the gate\nAfter dispersion of the shielded Greeks825\nCompact, still persevered. The galleys there\nOf Ajax and Protesila\u00fcs stood\nUpdrawn above the hoary Deep; the wall\nWas there of humblest structure, and the steeds\nAnd warriors there conflicted furious most.830\nThe Epeans there and I\u00e4onians[12] robed-\nProlix, the Phthians,[13] Locrians, and the bold\nB\u0153tians check\u2019d the terrible assault\nOf Hector, noble Chief, ardent as flame,\nYet not repulsed him. Chosen Athenians form\u2019d835\nThe van, by Peteos\u2019 son, Menestheus, led,\nWhose high command undaunted Bias shared,\nPhidas and Stichius. The Epean host\nUnder Amphion, Dracius, Meges, fought.\nPodarces brave in arms the Phthians ruled,840\nAnd Medon (Medon was by spurious birth\nBrother of Ajax O\u00efliades,\nAnd for his uncle\u2019s death, whom he had slain,\nThe brother of O\u00efleus\u2019 wife, abode\nIn Phylace; but from Iphiclus sprang845\nPodarces;) these, all station\u2019d in the front\nOf Phthias\u2019 hardy sons, together strove\nWith the B\u0153otians for the fleet\u2019s defence.\nAjax the swift swerved never from the side\nOf Ajax son of Telamon a step,850\nBut as in some deep fallow two black steers\nLabor combined, dragging the ponderous plow,\nThe briny sweat around their rooted horns\nOozes profuse; they, parted as they toil\nAlong the furrow, by the yoke alone,855\nCleave to its bottom sheer the stubborn glebe,\nSo, side by side, they, persevering fought.[14]\nThe son of Telamon a people led\nNumerous and bold, who, when his bulky limbs\nFail\u2019d overlabor\u2019d, eased him of his shield.860\nNot so attended by his Locrians fought\nO\u00efleus\u2019 valiant son; pitch\u2019d battle them\nSuited not, unprovided with bright casques\nOf hairy crest, with ashen spears, and shields\nOf ample orb; for, trusting in the bow865\nAnd twisted sling alone, they came to Troy,\nAnd broke with shafts and volley\u2019d stones the ranks.\nThus occupying, clad in burnish\u2019d arms,\nThe van, these two with Hector and his host\nConflicted, while the Locrians from behind870\nVex\u2019d them with shafts, secure; nor could the men\nOf Ilium stand, by such a shower confused.\nThen, driven with dreadful havoc thence, the foe\nTo wind-swept Ilium had again retired.\nHad not Polydamas, at Hector\u2019s side875\nStanding, the dauntless hero thus address\u2019d.\n  Hector! Thou ne\u2019er canst listen to advice;\nBut think\u2019st thou, that if heaven in feats of arms\nGive thee pre-eminence, thou must excel\nTherefore in council also all mankind?880\nNo. All-sufficiency is not for thee.\nTo one, superior force in arms is given,\nSkill to another in the graceful dance,\nSweet song and powers of music to a third,\nAnd to a fourth loud-thundering Jove imparts885\nWisdom, which profits many, and which saves\nWhole cities oft, though reverenced but by few.\nYet hear; I speak as wisest seems to me.\nWar, like a fiery circle, all around\nEnvirons thee; the Trojans, since they pass\u2019d890\nThe bulwark, either hold themselves aloof,\nOr, wide-dispersed among the galleys, cope\nWith numbers far superior to their own.\nRetiring, therefore, summon all our Chiefs\nTo consultation on the sum of all,895\nWhether (should heaven so prosper us) to rush\nImpetuous on the gallant barks of Greece,\nOr to retreat secure; for much I dread\nLest the Achaians punctually refund\nAll yesterday\u2019s arrear, since yonder Chief[15]900\nInsatiable with battle still abides\nWithin the fleet, nor longer, as I judge,\nWill rest a mere spectator of the field.\n  So spake Polydamas, whose safe advice\nPleased Hector; from his chariot down he leap\u2019d905\nAll arm\u2019d, and in wing\u2019d accents thus replied.\n  Polydamas! here gather all the Chiefs;\nI haste into the fight, and my commands\nOnce issued there, incontinent return.\n  He ended, and conspicuous as the height910\nOf some snow-crested mountain, shouting ranged\nThe Trojans and confederates of Troy.\nThey swift around Polydamas, brave son\nOf Panthus, at the voice of Hector, ran.\nHimself with hasty strides the front, meantime,915\nOf battle roam\u2019d, seeking from rank to rank\nAsius Hyrtacides, with Asius\u2019 son\nAdamas, and Deiphobus, and the might\nOf Helenus, his royal brother bold.\nThem neither altogether free from hurt920\nHe found, nor living all. Beneath the sterns\nOf the Achaian ships some slaughter\u2019d lay\nBy Grecian hands; some stricken by the spear\nWithin the rampart sat, some by the sword.\nBut leftward of the woful field he found,925\nEre long, bright Helen\u2019s paramour his band\nExhorting to the fight. Hector approach\u2019d,\nAnd him, in fierce displeasure, thus bespake.\n  Curst Paris, specious, fraudulent and lewd!\nWhere is Deiphobus, and where the might930\nOf royal Helenus? Where Adamas\nOffspring of Asius, and where Asius, son\nOf Hyrtacus, and where Othryoneus?\nNow lofty Ilium from her topmost height\nFalls headlong, now is thy own ruin sure!935\n  To whom the godlike Paris thus replied.\nSince Hector! thou art pleased with no just cause\nTo censure me, I may decline, perchance,\nMuch more the battle on some future day,\nFor I profess some courage, even I.940\nWitness our constant conflict with the Greeks\nHere, on this spot, since first led on by thee\nThe host of Troy waged battle at the ships.\nBut those our friends of whom thou hast inquired\nAre slain, Deiphobus alone except945\nAnd royal Helenus, who in the hand\nBear each a wound inflicted by the spear,\nAnd have retired; but Jove their life preserved.\nCome now\u2014conduct us whither most thine heart\nPrompts thee, and thou shalt find us ardent all950\nTo face like danger; what we can, we will,\nThe best and most determined can no more.\n  So saying, the hero soothed his brother\u2019s mind.\nThen moved they both toward the hottest war\nTogether, where Polydamas the brave,955\nPhalces, Cebriones, Orth\u00e6us fought,\nPalmys and Polyph\u0153tes, godlike Chief,\nAnd Morys and Ascanius, gallant sons\nBoth of Hippotion. They at Troy arrived\nFrom fair Ascania the preceding morn,960\nIn recompense for aid[16] by Priam lent\nErewhile to Phrygia, and, by Jove impell\u2019d,\nNow waged the furious battle side by side.\nThe march of these at once, was as the sound\nOf mighty winds from deep-hung thunder-clouds965\nDescending; clamorous the blast and wild\nWith ocean mingles; many a billow, then,\nUpridged rides turbulent the sounding flood,\nFoam-crested billow after billow driven,\nSo moved the host of Troy, rank after rank970\nBehind their Chiefs, all dazzling bright in arms.\nBefore them Priameian Hector strode\nFierce as gore-tainted Mars, and his broad shield\nAdvancing came, heavy with hides, and thick-\nPlated with brass; his helmet on his brows975\nRefulgent shook, and in its turn he tried\nThe force of every phalanx, if perchance\nBehind his broad shield pacing he might shake\nTheir steadfast order; but he bore not down\nThe spirit of the firm Achaian host.980\nThen Ajax striding forth, him, first, defied.\n  Approach. Why temptest thou the Greeks to fear?\nNo babes are we in aught that appertains\nTo arms, though humbled by the scourge of Jove.\nThou cherishest the foolish hope to burn985\nOur fleet with fire; but even we have hearts\nPrepared to guard it, and your populous Troy,\nBy us dismantled and to pillage given,\nShall perish sooner far. Know this thyself\nAlso; the hour is nigh when thou shalt ask990\nIn prayer to Jove and all the Gods of heaven,\nThat speed more rapid than the falcon\u2019s flight\nMay wing thy coursers, while, exciting dense\nThe dusty plain, they whirl thee back to Troy.\n  While thus he spake, sublime on the right-hand995\nAn eagle soar\u2019d; confident in the sign\nThe whole Achaian host with loud acclaim\nHail\u2019d it. Then glorious Hector thus replied.\n  Brainless and big, what means this boast of thine,\nEarth-cumberer Ajax? Would I were the son1000\nAs sure, for ever, of almighty Jove\nAnd Juno, and such honor might receive\nHenceforth as Pallas and Apollo share,\nAs comes this day with universal wo\nFraught for the Grecians, among whom thyself1005\nShalt also perish if thou dare abide\nMy massy spear, which shall thy pamper\u2019d flesh\nDisfigure, and amid the barks of Greece\nFalling, thou shalt the vultures with thy bulk\nEnormous satiate, and the dogs of Troy.1010\n  He spake, and led his host; with clamor loud\nThey follow\u2019d him, and all the distant rear\nCame shouting on. On the other side the Greeks\nRe-echoed shout for shout, all undismay\u2019d,\nAnd waiting firm the bravest of their foes.1015\nUpwent the double roar into the heights\nEthereal, and among the beams of Jove.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XIV.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE FOURTEENTH BOOK.\n\nAgamemnon and the other wounded Chiefs taking Nestor with them, visit\nthe battle. Juno having borrowed the Cestus of Venus, first engages the\nassistance of Sleep, then hastens to Ida to inveigle Jove. She\nprevails. Jove sleeps; and Neptune takes that opportunity to succor the\nGrecians.\n\n\nBOOK XIV.\n\n\nNor was that cry by Nestor unperceived\nThough drinking, who in words wing\u2019d with surprise\nThe son of \u00c6sculapius thus address\u2019d.\n  Divine Machaon! think what this may bode.\nThe cry of our young warriors at the ships5\nGrows louder; sitting here, the sable wine\nQuaff thou, while bright-hair\u2019d Hecamede warms\nA bath, to cleanse thy crimson stains away.\nI from yon eminence will learn the cause.\n  So saying, he took a shield radiant with brass10\nThere lying in the tent, the shield well-forged\nOf valiant Thrasymedes, his own son\n(For he had borne to fight his father\u2019s shield)\nAnd arming next his hand with a keen lance\nStood forth before the tent. Thence soon he saw15\nFoul deeds and strange, the Grecian host confused,\nTheir broken ranks flying before the host\nOf Ilium, and the rampart overthrown.\nAs when the wide sea, darken\u2019d over all\nIts silent flood, forebodes shrill winds to blow,20\nThe doubtful waves roll yet to neither side,\nTill swept at length by a decisive gale;[1]\nSo stood the senior, with distressful doubts\nConflicting anxious, whether first to seek\nThe Grecian host, or Agamemnon\u2019s self25\nThe sovereign, and at length that course preferr\u2019d.\nMeantime with mutual carnage they the field\nSpread far and wide, and by spears double-edged\nSmitten, and by the sword their corselets rang.\n  The royal Chiefs ascending from the fleet,30\nUlysses, Diomede, and Atreus\u2019 son\nImperial Agamemnon, who had each\nBled in the battle, met him on his way.\nFor from the war remote they had updrawn\nTheir galleys on the shore of the gray Deep,35\nThe foremost to the plain, and at the sterns\nOf that exterior line had built the wall.\nFor, spacious though it were, the shore alone\nThat fleet sufficed not, incommoding much\nThe people; wherefore they had ranged the ships40\nLine above line gradual, and the bay\nBetween both promontories, all was fill\u2019d.\nThey, therefore, curious to survey the fight,\nCame forth together, leaning on the spear,\nWhen Nestor met them; heavy were their hearts,45\nAnd at the sight of him still more alarm\u2019d,\nWhom royal Agamemnon thus bespake.\n  Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks!\nWhat moved thee to forsake yon bloody field,\nAnd urged thee hither? Cause I see of fear,50\nLest furious Hector even now his threat\nAmong the Trojans publish\u2019d, verify,\nThat he would never enter Ilium more\nTill he had burn\u2019d our fleet, and slain ourselves.\nSo threaten\u2019d Hector, and shall now perform.55\nAlas! alas! the Achaians brazen-greaved\nAll, like Achilles, have deserted me\nResentful, and decline their fleet\u2019s defence.\n  To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied.\nThose threats are verified; nor Jove himself60\nThe Thunderer can disappoint them now;\nFor our chief strength in which we trusted most\nThat it should guard impregnably secure\nOur navy and ourselves, the wall hath fallen.\nHence all this conflict by our host sustain\u2019d65\nAmong the ships; nor could thy keenest sight\nInform thee where in the Achaian camp\nConfusion most prevails, such deaths are dealt\nPromiscuous, and the cry ascends to heaven.\nBut come\u2014consult we on the sum of all,70\nIf counsel yet may profit. As for you,\nYe shall have exhortation none from me\nTo seek the fight; the wounded have excuse.\n  Whom Agamemnon answer\u2019d, King of men.\nAh Nestor! if beneath our very sterns75\nThe battle rage, if neither trench nor wall\nConstructed with such labor, and supposed\nOf strength to guard impregnably secure\nOur navy and ourselves, avail us aught,\nIt is because almighty Jove hath will\u2019d80\nThat the Achaian host should perish here\nInglorious, from their country far remote.\nWhen he vouchsafed assistance to the Greeks,\nI knew it well; and now, not less I know\nThat high as the immortal Gods he lifts85\nOur foes to glory, and depresses us.\nHaste therefore all, and act as I advise.\nOur ships\u2014all those that nearest skirt the Deep,\nLaunch we into the sacred flood, and moor\nWith anchors safely, till o\u2019ershadowing night90\n(If night itself may save us) shall arrive.\nThen may we launch the rest; for I no shame\nAccount it, even by \u2019vantage of the night\nTo fly destruction. Wiser him I deem\nWho \u2019scapes his foe, than whom his foe enthralls.95\n  But him Ulysses, frowning stern, reproved.\nWhat word, Atrides, now hath pass\u2019d thy lips?\nCounsellor of despair! thou should\u2019st command\n(And would to heaven thou didst) a different host,\nSome dastard race, not ours; whom Jove ordains100\nFrom youth to hoary age to weave the web\nOf toilsome warfare, till we perish all.\nWilt thou the spacious city thus renounce\nFor which such numerous woes we have endured?\nHush! lest some other hear; it is a word105\nWhich no man qualified by years mature\nTo speak discreetly, no man bearing rule\nO\u2019er such a people as confess thy sway,\nShould suffer to contaminate his lips.\nI from my soul condemn thee, and condemn110\nThy counsel, who persuad\u2019st us in the heat\nOf battle terrible as this, to launch\nOur fleet into the waves, that we may give\nOur too successful foes their full desire,\nAnd that our own prepondering scale115\nMay plunge us past all hope; for while they draw\nTheir galleys down, the Grecians shall but ill\nSustain the fight, seaward will cast their eyes\nAnd shun the battle, bent on flight alone.\nThen, shall they rue thy counsel, King of men!120\n  To whom the imperial leader of the Greeks.\nThy sharp reproof, Ulysses, hath my soul\nPierced deeply. Yet I gave no such command\nThat the Achaians should their galleys launch,\nWould they, or would they not. No. I desire125\nThat young or old, some other may advice\nMore prudent give, and he shall please me well.\n  Then thus the gallant Diomede replied.\nThat man is near, and may ye but be found\nTractable, our inquiry shall be short.130\nBe patient each, nor chide me nor reproach\nBecause I am of greener years than ye,\nFor I am sprung from an illustrious Sire,\nFrom Tydeus, who beneath his hill of earth\nLies now entomb\u2019d at Thebes. Three noble sons135\nWere born to Portheus, who in Pleuro dwelt,\nAnd on the heights of Calydon; the first\nAgrius; the second Melas; and the third\nBrave Oeneus, father of my father, famed\nFor virtuous qualities above the rest.140\nOeneus still dwelt at home; but wandering thence\nMy father dwelt in Argos; so the will\nOf Jove appointed, and of all the Gods.\nThere he espoused the daughter of the King\nAdrastus, occupied a mansion rich145\nIn all abundance; many a field possess\u2019d\nOf wheat, well-planted gardens, numerous flocks,\nAnd was expert in spearmanship esteem\u2019d\nPast all the Grecians. I esteem\u2019d it right\nThat ye should hear these things, for they are true.150\nYe will not, therefore, as I were obscure\nAnd of ignoble origin, reject\nWhat I shall well advise. Expedience bids\nThat, wounded as we are, we join the host.\nWe will preserve due distance from the range155\nOf spears and arrows, lest already gall\u2019d,\nWe suffer worse; but we will others urge\nTo combat, who have stood too long aloof,\nAttentive only to their own repose.\n  He spake, whom all approved, and forth they went,160\nImperial Agamemnon at their head.\n  Nor watch\u2019d the glorious Shaker of the shores\nIn vain, but like a man time-worn approach\u2019d,\nAnd, seizing Agamemnon\u2019s better hand,\nIn accents wing\u2019d the monarch thus address\u2019d.165\n  Atrides! now exults the vengeful heart\nOf fierce Achilles, viewing at his ease\nThe flight and slaughter of Achaia\u2019s host;\nFor he is mad, and let him perish such,\nAnd may his portion from the Gods be shame!170\nBut as for thee, not yet the powers of heaven\nThee hate implacable; the Chiefs of Troy\nShall cover yet with cloudy dust the breadth\nOf all the plain, and backward from the camp\nTo Ilium\u2019s gates thyself shalt see them driven.175\n  He ceased, and shouting traversed swift the field.\nLoud as nine thousand or ten thousand shout\nIn furious battle mingled, Neptune sent\nHis voice abroad, force irresistible\nInfusing into every Grecian heart,180\nAnd thirst of battle not to be assuaged.\n  But Juno of the golden throne stood forth\nOn the Olympian summit, viewing thence\nThe field, where clear distinguishing the God\nOf ocean, her own brother, sole engaged185\nAmid the glorious battle, glad was she.\nSeeing Jove also on the topmost point\nOf spring-fed Ida seated, she conceived\nHatred against him, and thenceforth began\nDeliberate how best she might deceive190\nThe Thunderer, and thus at last resolved;\nAttired with skill celestial to descend\nOn Ida, with a hope to allure him first\nWon by her beauty to a fond embrace,\nThen closing fast in balmy sleep profound195\nHis eyes, to elude his vigilance, secure.\nShe sought her chamber; Vulcan her own son\nThat chamber built. He framed the solid doors,\nAnd to the posts fast closed them with a key\nMysterious, which, herself except, in heaven200\nNone understood. Entering she secured\nThe splendid portal. First, she laved all o\u2019er\nHer beauteous body with ambrosial lymph,\nThen polish\u2019d it with richest oil divine\nOf boundless fragrance;[2] oil that in the courts205\nEternal only shaken, through the skies\nBreathed odors, and through all the distant earth.\nHer whole fair body with those sweets bedew\u2019d,\nShe passed the comb through her ambrosial hair,\nAnd braided her bright locks streaming profuse210\nFrom her immortal brows; with golden studs\nShe made her gorgeous mantle fast before,\nEthereal texture, labor of the hands\nOf Pallas beautified with various art,\nAnd braced it with a zone fringed all around215\nA hundred fold; her pendants triple-gemm\u2019d\nLuminous, graceful, in her ears she hung,\nAnd covering all her glories with a veil\nSun-bright, new-woven, bound to her fair feet\nHer sandals elegant. Thus full attired,220\nIn all her ornaments, she issued forth,\nAnd beckoning Venus from the other powers\nOf heaven apart, the Goddess thus bespake.\n  Daughter beloved! shall I obtain my suit,\nOr wilt thou thwart me, angry that I aid225\nThe Grecians, while thine aid is given to Troy?\n  To whom Jove\u2019s daughter Venus thus replied.\nWhat would majestic Juno, daughter dread\nOf Saturn, sire of Jove? I feel a mind\nDisposed to gratify thee, if thou ask230\nThings possible, and possible to me.\n  Then thus with wiles veiling her deep design\nImperial Juno. Give me those desires,\nThat love-enkindling power by which thou sway\u2019st\nImmortal hearts and mortal, all alike;235\nFor to the green earth\u2019s utmost bounds I go,\nTo visit there the parent of the Gods,\nOceanus, and Tethys his espoused,\nMother of all. They kindly from the hands\nOf Rhea took, and with parental care240\nSustain\u2019d and cherish\u2019d me, what time from heaven\nThe Thunderer hurled down Saturn, and beneath\nThe earth fast bound him and the barren Deep.\nThem go I now to visit, and their feuds\nInnumerable to compose; for long245\nThey have from conjugal embrace abstain\u2019d\nThrough mutual wrath, whom by persuasive speech\nMight I restore into each other\u2019s arms,\nThey would for ever love me and revere.\n  Her, foam-born Venus then, Goddess of smiles,250\nThus answer\u2019d. Thy request, who in the arms\nOf Jove reposest the omnipotent,\nNor just it were nor seemly to refuse.\n  So saying, the cincture from her breast she loosed\nEmbroider\u2019d, various, her all-charming zone.255\nIt was an ambush of sweet snares, replete\nWith love, desire, soft intercourse of hearts,\nAnd music of resistless whisper\u2019d sounds\nThat from the wisest steal their best resolves;\nShe placed it in her hands and thus she said.260\n  Take this\u2014this girdle fraught with every charm.\nHide this within thy bosom, and return,\nWhate\u2019er thy purpose, mistress of it all.\n  She spake; imperial Juno smiled, and still\nSmiling complacent, bosom\u2019d safe the zone.265\nThen Venus to her father\u2019s court return\u2019d,\nAnd Juno, starting from the Olympian height,\nO\u2019erflew Pieria and the lovely plains\nOf broad Emathia; soaring thence she swept\nThe snow-clad summits of the Thracian hills270\nSteed-famed, nor printed, as she passed, the soil.\nFrom Athos o\u2019er the foaming billows borne\nShe came to Lemnos, city and abode\nOf noble Thoas, and there meeting Sleep,\nBrother of Death, she press\u2019d his hand, and said,275\n  Sleep, over all, both Gods and men, supreme!\nIf ever thou hast heard, hear also now\nMy suit; I will be grateful evermore.\nSeal for me fast the radiant eyes of Jove\nIn the instant of his gratified desire.280\nThy recompense shall be a throne of gold,\nBright, incorruptible; my limping son,\nVulcan, shall fashion it himself with art\nLaborious, and, beneath, shall place a stool[3]\nFor thy fair feet, at the convivial board.285\n  Then answer thus the tranquil Sleep returned\nGreat Saturn\u2019s daughter, awe-inspiring Queen!\nAll other of the everlasting Gods\nI could with ease make slumber, even the streams\nOf Ocean, Sire of all.[4] Not so the King290\nThe son of Saturn: him, unless himself\nGive me command, I dare not lull to rest,\nOr even approach him, taught as I have been\nAlready in the school of thy commands\nThat wisdom. I forget not yet the day295\nWhen, Troy laid waste, that valiant son[5] of his\nSail\u2019d homeward: then my influence I diffused\nSoft o\u2019er the sovereign intellect of Jove;\nWhile thou, against the Hero plotting harm,\nDidst rouse the billows with tempestuous blasts,300\nAnd separating him from all his friend,\nBrought\u2019st him to populous Cos. Then Jove awoke,\nAnd, hurling in his wrath the Gods about,\nSought chiefly me, whom far below all ken\nHe had from heaven cast down into the Deep,305\nBut Night, resistless vanquisher of all,\nBoth Gods and men, preserved me; for to her\nI fled for refuge. So the Thunderer cool\u2019d,\nThough sore displeased, and spared me through a fear\nTo violate the peaceful sway of Night.[6]310\nAnd thou wouldst now embroil me yet again!\n  To whom majestic Juno thus replied.\nAh, wherefore, Sleep! shouldst thou indulge a fear\nSo groundless?  Chase it from thy mind afar.\nThink\u2019st thou the Thunderer as intent to serve315\nThe Trojans, and as jealous in their cause\nAs erst for Hercules, his genuine son?\nCome then, and I will bless thee with a bride;\nOne of the younger Graces shall be thine,\nPasithea, day by day still thy desire.320\n  She spake; Sleep heard delighted, and replied.\nBy the inviolable Stygian flood\nSwear to me; lay thy right hand on the glebe\nAll-teeming, lay thy other on the face\nOf the flat sea, that all the Immortal Powers325\nWho compass Saturn in the nether realms\nMay witness, that thou givest me for a bride\nThe younger Grace whom thou hast named, divine\nPasithea, day by day still my desire.\n  He said, nor beauteous Juno not complied,330\nBut sware, by name invoking all the powers\nTitanian call\u2019d who in the lowest gulf\nDwell under Tartarus, omitting none.\nHer oath with solemn ceremonial sworn,\nTogether forth they went; Lemnos they left335\nAnd Imbrus, city of Thrace, and in dark clouds\nMantled, with gliding ease swam through the air\nTo Ida\u2019s mount with rilling waters vein\u2019d,\nParent of savage beasts; at Lectos[7] first\nThey quitted Ocean, overpassing high340\nThe dry land, while beneath their feet the woods\nTheir spiry summits waved. There, unperceived\nBy Jove, Sleep mounted Ida\u2019s loftiest pine\nOf growth that pierced the sky, and hidden sat\nSecure by its expanded boughs, the bird345\nShrill-voiced resembling in the mountains seen,[8]\nChalcis in heaven, on earth Cymindis named.\n  But Juno swift to Gargarus the top\nOf Ida, soar\u2019d, and there Jove saw his spouse.\n\u2014Saw her\u2014and in his breast the same love felt350\nRekindled vehement, which had of old\nJoin\u2019d them, when, by their parents unperceived,\nThey stole aside, and snatch\u2019d their first embrace.\nSoon he accosted her, and thus inquired.\n\n  Juno! what region seeking hast thou left355\nThe Olympian summit, and hast here arrived\nWith neither steed nor chariot in thy train?\n  To whom majestic Juno thus replied\nDissembling. To the green earth\u2019s end I go,\nTo visit there the parent of the Gods360\nOceanus, and Tethys his espoused,\nMother of all. They kindly from the hands\nOf Rhea took, and with parental care\nSustain\u2019d and cherish\u2019d me;[9] to them I haste\nTheir feuds innumerable to compose,365\nWho disunited by intestine strife\nLong time, from conjugal embrace abstain.\nMy steeds, that lightly over dank and dry\nShall bear me, at the rooted base I left\nOf Ida river-vein\u2019d. But for thy sake370\nFrom the Olympian summit I arrive,\nLest journeying remote to the abode\nOf Ocean, and with no consent of thine\nEntreated first, I should, perchance, offend.\n  To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.375\nJuno! thy journey thither may be made\nHereafter. Let us turn to dalliance now.\nFor never Goddess pour\u2019d, nor woman yet\nSo full a tide of love into my breast;\nI never loved Ixion\u2019s consort thus380\nWho bore Piritho\u00fcs, wise as we in heaven;\nNor sweet Acrisian Dan\u00e4e, from whom\nSprang Perseus, noblest of the race of man;\nNor Ph\u0153nix\u2019 daughter fair,[10] of whom were born\nMinos unmatch\u2019d but by the powers above,385\nAnd Rhadamanthus; nor yet Semele,\nNor yet Alcmena, who in Thebes produced\nThe valiant Hercules; and though my son\nBy Semele were Bacchus, joy of man;\nNor Ceres golden-hair\u2019d, nor high-enthroned390\nLatona in the skies, no\u2014nor thyself\nAs now I love thee, and my soul perceive\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with sweetness of intense desire.\n  Then thus majestic Juno her reply\nFramed artful. Oh unreasonable haste!395\nWhat speaks the Thunderer? If on Ida\u2019s heights.\nWhere all is open and to view exposed\nThou wilt that we embrace, what must betide,\nShould any of the everlasting Gods\nObserve us, and declare it to the rest?400\nNever could I, arising, seek again,\nThy mansion, so unseemly were the deed.\nBut if thy inclinations that way tend,\nThou hast a chamber; it is Vulcan\u2019s work,\nOur son\u2019s; he framed and fitted to its posts405\nThe solid portal; thither let us his,\nAnd there repose, since such thy pleasure seems.\n  To whom the cloud-assembler Deity.\nFear thou not, Juno, lest the eye of man\nOr of a God discern us; at my word410\nA golden cloud shall fold us so around,\nThat not the Sun himself shall through that veil\nDiscover aught, though keenest-eyed of all.\n  So spake the son of Saturn, and his spouse\nFast lock\u2019d within his arms. Beneath them earth415\nWith sudden herbage teem\u2019d; at once upsprang\nThe crocus soft, the lotus bathed in dew,\nAnd the crisp hyacinth with clustering bells;\nThick was their growth, and high above the ground\nUpbore them. On that flowery couch they lay,420\nInvested with a golden cloud that shed\nBright dew-drops all around.[11] His heart at ease,\nThere lay the Sire of all, by Sleep and Love\nVanquish\u2019d on lofty Gargarus, his spouse\nConstraining still with amorous embrace.425\nThen, gentle Sleep to the Achaian camp\nSped swift away, with tidings for the ear\nOf earth-encircler Neptune charged; him soon\nHe found, and in wing\u2019d accents thus began.\n  Now Neptune, yield the Greeks effectual aid,430\nAnd, while the moment lasts of Jove\u2019s repose,\nMake victory theirs; for him in slumbers soft\nI have involved, while Juno by deceit\nPrevailing, lured him with the bait of love.\n  He said, and swift departed to his task435\nAmong the nations; but his tidings urged\nNeptune with still more ardor to assist\nThe Dana\u00ef; he leap\u2019d into the van\nAfar, and thus exhorted them aloud.\n  Oh Argives! yield we yet again the day440\nTo Priameian Hector? Shall he seize\nOur ships, and make the glory all his own?\nSuch is his expectation, so he vaunts,\nFor that Achilles leaves not yet his camp,\nResentful; but of him small need, I judge,445\nShould here be felt, could once the rest be roused\nTo mutual aid. Act, then, as I advise.\nThe best and broadest bucklers of the host,\nAnd brightest helmets put we on, and arm\u2019d\nWith longest spears, advance; myself will lead;450\nAnd trust me, furious though he be, the son\nOf Priam flies. Ye then who feel your hearts\nUndaunted, but are arm\u2019d with smaller shields,\nThem give to those who fear, and in exchange\nTheir stronger shields and broader take yourselves.455\n  So he, whom, unreluctant, all obey\u2019d.\nThen, wounded as they were, themselves the Kings,\nTydides, Agamemnon and Ulysses\nMarshall\u2019d the warriors, and from rank to rank\nMade just exchange of arms, giving the best460\nTo the best warriors, to the worse, the worst.\nAnd now in brazen armor all array\u2019d\nRefulgent on they moved, by Neptune led\nWith firm hand grasping his long-bladed sword\nKeen as Jove\u2019s bolt; with him may none contend465\nIn dreadful fight; but fear chains every arm.\n  Opposite, Priameian Hector ranged\nHis Trojans; then they stretch\u2019d the bloody cord\nOf conflict tight, Neptune c\u0153rulean-hair\u2019d,\nAnd Hector, pride of Ilium; one, the Greeks470\nSupporting firm, and one, the powers of Troy;\nA sea-flood dash\u2019d the galleys, and the hosts\nJoin\u2019d clamorous. Not so the billows roar\nThe shores among, when Boreas\u2019 roughest blast\nSweeps landward from the main the towering surge;475\nNot so, devouring fire among the trees\nThat clothe the mountain, when the sheeted flames\nAscending wrap the forest in a blaze;\nNor howl the winds through leafy boughs of oaks\nUpgrown aloft (though loudest there they rave)480\nWith sounds so awful as were heard of Greeks\nAnd Trojans shouting when the clash began.\n  At Ajax, first (for face to face they stood)\nIllustrious Hector threw a spear well-aim\u2019d,\nBut smote him where the belts that bore his shield485\nAnd falchion cross\u2019d each other on his breast.\nThe double guard preserved him unannoy\u2019d.\nIndignant that his spear had bootless flown,\nYet fearing death at hand, the Trojan Chief\nToward the phalanx of his friends retired.490\nBut, as he went, huge Ajax with a stone\nOf those which propp\u2019d the ships (for numerous such\nLay rolling at the feet of those who fought)\nAssail\u2019d him. Twirling like a top it pass\u2019d\nThe shield of Hector, near the neck his breast495\nStruck full, then plough\u2019d circuitous the dust.\nAs when Jove\u2019s arm omnipotent an oak\nProstrates uprooted on the plain, a fume\nRises sulphureous from the riven trunk,\nAnd if, perchance, some traveller nigh at hand500\nSee it, he trembles at the bolt of Jove,\nSo fell the might of Hector, to the earth\nSmitten at once. Down dropp\u2019d his idle spear,\nAnd with his helmet and his shield himself\nAlso; loud thunder\u2019d all his gorgeous arms.505\nSwift flew the Grecians shouting to the skies,\nAnd showering darts, to drag his body thence,\nBut neither spear of theirs nor shaft could harm\nThe fallen leader, with such instant aid\nHis princely friends encircled him around,510\nSarpedon, Lycian Chief, Glaucus the brave,\nPolydamas, \u00c6neas, and renown\u2019d\nAgenor; neither tardy were the rest,\nBut with round shields all shelter\u2019d Hector fallen.\nHim soon uplifted from the plain his friends515\nBore thence, till where his fiery coursers stood,\nAnd splendid chariot in the rear, they came,\nThen Troy-ward drove him groaning as he went.\nEre long arriving at the pleasant stream\nOf eddied Xanthus, progeny of Jove,520\nThey laid him on the bank, and on his face\nPour\u2019d water; he, reviving, upward gazed,\nAnd seated on his hams black blood disgorged\nCoagulate, but soon relapsing, fell\nSupine, his eyes with pitchy darkness veil\u2019d,525\nAnd all his powers still torpid by the blow.\n  Then, seeing Hector borne away, the Greeks\nRush\u2019d fiercer on, all mindful of the fight,\nAnd far before the rest, Ajax the swift,\nThe O\u00eflean Chief, with pointed spear530\nOn Satnius springing, pierced him. Him a nymph\nA Naiad, bore to Enops, while his herd\nFeeding, on Satnio\u2019s grassy verge he stray\u2019d.\nBut O\u00efliades the spear-renown\u2019d\nApproaching, pierced his flank; supine he fell,535\nAnd fiery contest for the dead arose.\nIn vengeance of his fall, spear-shaking Chief\nThe son of Panthus into fight advanced\nPolydamas, who Proth\u00f6enor pierced\nOffspring of Are\u00eflocus, and urged540\nThrough his right shoulder sheer the stormy lance.\nHe, prostrate, clench\u2019d the dust, and with loud voice\nPolydamas exulted at his fall.\n  Yon spear, methinks, hurl\u2019d from the warlike hand\nOf Panthus\u2019 noble son, flew not in vain,545\nBut some Greek hath it, purposing, I judge,\nTo lean on it in his descent to hell.\n  So he, whose vaunt the Greeks indignant heard.\nBut most indignant, Ajax, offspring bold\nOf Telamon, to whom he nearest fell.550\nHe, quick, at the retiring conqueror cast\nHis radiant spear; Polydamas the stroke\nShunn\u2019d, starting sideward; but Antenor\u2019s son\nArchilochus the mortal dint received,\nDeath-destined by the Gods; where neck and spine555\nUnite, both tendons he dissever\u2019d wide,\nAnd, ere his knees, his nostrils met the ground.\n  Then Ajax in his turn vaunting aloud\nAgainst renown\u2019d Polydamas, exclaim\u2019d.\nSpeak now the truth, Polydamas, and weigh560\nMy question well. His life whom I have slain\nMakes it not compensation for the loss\nOf Proth\u00f6enor\u2019s life! To me he seems\nNor base himself; nor yet of base descent,\nBut brother of Atenor steed-renown\u2019d,565\nOr else perchance his son; for in my eyes\nAntenor\u2019s lineage he resembles most.\n  So he, well knowing him, and sorrow seized\nEach Trojan heart. Then Acamas around\nHis brother stalking, wounded with his spear570\nB\u0153otian Promachus, who by the feet\nDragg\u2019d off the slain. Acamas in his fall\nAloud exulted with a boundless joy.\n  Vain-glorious Argives, archers inexpert!\nWar\u2019s toil and trouble are not ours alone,575\nBut ye shall perish also; mark the man\u2014\nHow sound he sleeps tamed by my conquering arm,\nYour fellow-warrior Promachus! the debt\nOf vengeance on my brother\u2019s dear behalf\nDemanded quick discharge; well may the wish580\nOf every dying warrior be to leave\nA brother living to avenge his fall.\n  He ended, whom the Greeks indignant heard,\nBut chiefly brave Peneleus; swift he rush\u2019d\nOn Acamas; but from before the force585\nOf King Peneleus Acamas retired,\nAnd, in his stead, Ilioneus he pierced,\nOffspring of Phorbas, rich in flocks; and blest\nBy Mercury with such abundant wealth\nAs other Trojan none, nor child to him590\nHis spouse had borne, Ilioneus except.\nHim close beneath the brow to his eye-roots\nPiercing, he push\u2019d the pupil from its seat,\nAnd through his eye and through his poll the spear\nUrged furious. He down-sitting on the earth595\nBoth hands extended; but, his glittering blade\nForth-drawn, Peneleus through his middle neck\nEnforced it; head and helmet to the ground\nHe lopp\u2019d together, with the lance infixt\nStill in his eye; then like a poppy\u2019s head600\nThe crimson trophy lifting, in the ears\nHe vaunted loud of Ilium\u2019s host, and cried.\n  Go, Trojans! be my messengers! Inform\nThe parents of Ilioneus the brave\nThat they may mourn their son through all their house,605\nFor so the wife of Alegenor\u2019s son\nB\u0153otian Promachus must him bewail,\nNor shall she welcome his return with smiles\nOf joy affectionate, when from the shores\nOf Troy the fleet shall bear us Grecians home.610\n  He said; fear whiten\u2019d every Trojan cheek,\nAnd every Trojan eye with earnest look\nInquired a refuge from impending fate.\n  Say now, ye Muses, blest inhabitants\nOf the Olympian realms! what Grecian first615\nFill\u2019d his victorious hand with armor stript\nFrom slaughter\u2019d Trojans, after Ocean\u2019s God\nHad, interposing, changed the battle\u2019s course?\n  First, Telamonian Ajax Hyrtius slew,\nUndaunted leader of the Mysian band.620\nPhalces and Mermerus their arms resign\u2019d\nTo young Antilochus; Hyppotion fell\nAnd Morys by Meriones; the shafts\nRight-aim\u2019d of Teucer to the shades dismiss\u2019d\nProth\u00f6us and Periphetes, and the prince625\nOf Sparta, Menelaus, in his flank\nPierced Hyperenor; on his entrails prey\u2019d\nThe hungry steel, and, through the gaping wound\nExpell\u2019d, his spirit flew; night veil\u2019d his eyes.\nBut Ajax O\u00efliades the swift630\nSlew most; him none could equal in pursuit\nOf tremblers scatter\u2019d by the frown of Jove.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XV.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE FIFTEENTH BOOK.\n\nJove, awaking and seeing the Trojans routed, threatens Juno. He sends\nIris to admonish Neptune to relinquish the battle, and Apollo to\nrestore health to Hector. Apollo armed with the \u00c6gis, puts to flight\nthe Grecians; they are pursued home to their fleet, and Telamonian Ajax\nslays twelve Trojans bringing fire to burn it.\n\n\nBOOK XV.\n\n\nBut when the flying Trojans had o\u2019erpass\u2019d\nBoth stakes and trench, and numerous slaughtered lay\nBy Grecian hands, the remnant halted all\nBeside their chariots, pale, discomfited.\nThen was it that on Ida\u2019s summit Jove5\nAt Juno\u2019s side awoke; starting, he stood\nAt once erect; Trojans and Greeks he saw,\nThese broken, those pursuing and led on\nBy Neptune; he beheld also remote\nEncircled by his friends, and on the plain10\nExtended, Hector; there he panting lay,\nSenseless, ejecting blood, bruised by a blow\nFrom not the feeblest of the sons of Greece.\nTouch\u2019d with compassion at that sight, the Sire\nOf Gods and men, frowning terrific, fix\u2019d15\nHis eyes on Juno, and her thus bespake.\n  No place for doubt remains. Oh, versed in wiles,\nJuno! thy mischief-teeming mind perverse\nHath plotted this; thou hast contrived the hurt\nOf Hector, and hast driven his host to flight.20\nI know not but thyself mayst chance to reap\nThe first-fruits of thy cunning, scourged[1] by me.\nHast thou forgotten how I once aloft\nSuspended thee, with anvils at thy feet,\nAnd both thy wrists bound with a golden cord25\nIndissoluble? In the clouds of heaven\nI hung thee, while from the Olympian heights\nThe Gods look\u2019d mournful on, but of them all\nNone could deliver thee, for whom I seized,\nHurl\u2019d through the gates of heaven on earth he fell,30\nHalf-breathless. Neither so did I resign\nMy hot resentment of the hero\u2019s wrongs\nImmortal Hercules, whom thou by storms\nCall\u2019d from the North, with mischievous intent\nHadst driven far distant o\u2019er the barren Deep35\nTo populous Cos. Thence I deliver\u2019d him,\nAnd after numerous woes severe, he reach\u2019d\nThe shores of fruitful Argos, saved by me.\nI thus remind thee now, that thou mayst cease\nHenceforth from artifice, and mayst be taught40\nHow little all the dalliance and the love\nWhich, stealing down from heaven, thou hast by fraud\nObtain\u2019d from me, shall profit thee at last.\n  He ended, whom imperial Juno heard\nShuddering, and in wing\u2019d accents thus replied.45\n  Be witness Earth, the boundless Heaven above,\nAnd Styx beneath, whose stream the blessed Gods\nEven tremble to adjure;[2] be witness too\nThy sacred life, and our connubial bed,\nWhich by a false oath I will never wrong,50\nThat by no art induced or plot of mine\nNeptune, the Shaker of the shores, inflicts\nThese harms on Hector and the Trojan host\nAiding the Grecians, but impell\u2019d alone\nBy his own heart with pity moved at sight55\nOf the Achaians at the ships subdued.\nBut even him, oh Sovereign of the storms!\nI am prepared to admonish that he quit\nThe battle, and retire where thou command\u2019st.\n  So she; then smiled the Sire of Gods and men,60\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents answer thus return\u2019d.[3]\n  Juno! wouldst thou on thy celestial throne\nAssist my counsels, howso\u2019er in heart\nHe differ now, Neptune should soon his will\nSubmissive bend to thy desires and mine.65\nBut if sincerity be in thy words\nAnd truth, repairing to the blest abodes\nSend Iris hither, with the archer God\nApollo; that she, visiting the host\nOf Greece, may bid the Sovereign of the Deep70\nRenounce the fight, and seek his proper home.\nApollo\u2019s part shall be to rouse again\nHector to battle, to inspire his soul\nAfresh with courage, and all memory thence\nTo banish of the pangs which now he feels.75\nApollo also shall again repulse\nAchaia\u2019s host, which with base panic fill\u2019d,\nShall even to Achilles\u2019 ships be driven.\nAchilles shall his valiant friend exhort\nPatroclus forth; him under Ilium\u2019s walls80\nShall glorious Hector slay; but many a youth\nShall perish by Patroclus first, with whom,\nMy noble son Sarpedon. Peleus\u2019 son,\nResentful of Patroclus\u2019 death, shall slay\nHector, and I will urge ceaseless, myself,85\nThenceforth the routed Trojans back again,\nTill by Minerva\u2019s aid the Greeks shall take\nIlium\u2019s proud city; till that day arrive\nMy wrath shall burn, nor will I one permit\nOf all the Immortals to assist the Greeks,90\nBut will perform Achilles\u2019 whole desire.\nSuch was my promise to him at the first,\nRatified by a nod that self-same day\nWhen Thetis clasp\u2019d my knees, begging revenge\nAnd glory for her city-spoiler son.95\n  He ended; nor his spouse white-arm\u2019d refused\nObedience, but from the Id\u00e6an heights\nDeparting, to the Olympian summit soar\u2019d.\nSwift as the traveller\u2019s thought,[4] who, many a land\nTraversed, deliberates on his future course100\nUncertain, and his mind sends every way,\nSo swift updarted Juno to the skies.\nArrived on the Olympian heights, she found\nThe Gods assembled; they, at once, their seats\nAt her approach forsaking, with full cups105\nHer coming hail\u2019d; heedless of all beside,\nShe took the cup from blooming Themis\u2019 hand,\nFor she first flew to welcome her, and thus\nIn accents wing\u2019d of her return inquired.\n  Say, Juno, why this sudden re-ascent?110\nThou seem\u2019st dismay\u2019d; hath Saturn\u2019s son, thy spouse,\nDriven thee affrighted to the skies again?\n  To whom the white-arm\u2019d Goddess thus replied.\nThemis divine, ask not. Full well thou know\u2019st\nHow harshly temper\u2019d is the mind of Jove,115\nAnd how untractable. Resume thy seat;\nThe banquet calls thee; at our board preside,\nThou shalt be told, and all in heaven shall hear\nWhat ills he threatens; such as shall not leave\nAll minds at ease, I judge, here or on earth,120\nHowever tranquil some and joyous now.\n  So spake the awful spouse of Jove, and sat.\nThen, all alike, the Gods displeasure felt\nThroughout the courts of Jove, but she, her lips\nGracing with smiles from which her sable brows125\nDissented,[5] thus indignant them address\u2019d.\n  Alas! how vain against the Thunderer\u2019s will\nOur anger, and the hope to supersede\nHis purpose, by persuasion or by force!\nHe solitary sits, all unconcern\u2019d130\nAt our resentment, and himself proclaims\nMightiest and most to be revered in heaven.\nBe patient, therefore, and let each endure\nSuch ills as Jove may send him. Mars, I ween,\nAlready hath his share; the warrior God135\nHath lost Ascalaphus, of all mankind\nHis most beloved, and whom he calls his own.\n  She spake, and with expanded palms his thighs\nSmiling, thus, sorrowful, the God exclaim\u2019d.\n  Inhabitants of the Olympian heights!140\nOh bear with me, if to avenge my son\nI seek Achaia\u2019s fleet, although my doom\nBe thunder-bolts from Jove, and with the dead\nOutstretch\u2019d to lie in carnage and in dust.\n  He spake, and bidding Horror and Dismay145\nLead to the yoke his rapid steeds, put on\nHis all-refulgent armor. Then had wrath\nMore dreadful, some strange vengeance on the Gods\nFrom Jove befallen, had not Minerva, touch\u2019d\nWith timely fears for all, upstarting sprung150\nFrom where she sat, right through the vestibule.\nShe snatch\u2019d the helmet from his brows, the shield\nFrom his broad shoulder, and the brazen spear\nForced from his grasp into its place restored.\nThen reprimanding Mars, she thus began.155\n  Frantic, delirious! thou art lost for ever!\nIs it in vain that thou hast ears to hear,\nAnd hast thou neither shame nor reason left?\nHow? hear\u2019st thou not the Goddess? the report\nOf white-arm\u2019d Juno from Olympian Jove160\nReturn\u2019d this moment? or perfer\u2019st thou rather,\nPlagued with a thousand woes, and under force\nOf sad necessity to seek again\nOlympus, and at thy return to prove\nAuthor of countless miseries to us all?165\nFor He at once Grecians and Trojans both\nAbandoning, will hither haste prepared\nTo tempest[6] us in heaven, whom he will seize,\nThe guilty and the guiltless, all alike.\nI bid thee, therefore, patient bear the death170\nOf thy Ascalaphus; braver than he\nAnd abler have, ere now, in battle fallen,\nAnd shall hereafter; arduous were the task\nTo rescue from the stroke of fate the race\nOf mortal men, with all their progeny.175\n  So saying, Minerva on his throne replaced\nThe fiery Mars. Then, summoning abroad\nApollo from within the hall of Jove,\nWith Iris, swift ambassadress of heaven,\nThem in wing\u2019d accents Juno thus bespake.180\n  Jove bids you hence with undelaying speed\nTo Ida; in his presence once arrived,\nSee that ye execute his whole command.\n  So saying, the awful Goddess to her throne\nReturn\u2019d and sat. They, cleaving swift the air,185\nAlighted soon on Ida fountain-fed,\nParent of savage kinds. High on the point\nSeated of Gargarus, and wrapt around\nWith fragrant clouds, they found Saturnian Jove\nThe Thunderer, and in his presence stood.190\nHe, nought displeased that they his high command\nHad with such readiness obey\u2019d, his speech\nTo Iris, first, in accents wing\u2019d address\u2019d\n  Swift Iris, haste\u2014to royal Neptune bear\nMy charge entire; falsify not the word.195\nBid him, relinquishing the fight, withdraw\nEither to heaven, or to the boundless Deep.\nBut should he disobedient prove, and scorn\nMy message, let him, next, consider well\nHow he will bear, powerful as he is,200\nMy coming. Me I boast superior far\nIn force, and elder-born; yet deems he slight\nThe danger of comparison with me,\nWho am the terror of all heaven beside.\n  He spake, nor storm-wing\u2019d Iris disobey\u2019d,205\nBut down from the Id\u00e6an summit stoop\u2019d\nTo sacred Ilium. As when snow or hail\nFlies drifted by the cloud-dispelling North,\nSo swiftly, wing\u2019d with readiness of will,\nShe shot the gulf between, and standing soon210\nAt glorious Neptune\u2019s side, him thus address\u2019d.\n  To thee, O Neptune azure-hair\u2019d! I come\nWith tidings charged from \u00c6gis-bearing Jove.\nHe bids thee cease from battle, and retire\nEither to heaven, or to the boundless Deep.215\nBut shouldst thou, disobedient, set at nought\nHis words, he threatens that himself will haste\nTo fight against thee; but he bids thee shun\nThat strife with one superior far to thee,\nAnd elder-born; yet deem\u2019st thou slight, he saith,220\nThe danger of comparison with Him,\nAlthough the terror of all heaven beside.\n  Her then the mighty Shaker of the shores\nAnswer\u2019d indignant. Great as is his power,\nYet he hath spoken proudly, threatening me225\nWith force, high-born and glorious as himself.\nWe are three brothers; Saturn is our sire,\nAnd Rhea brought us forth; first, Jove she bore;\nMe next; then, Pluto, Sovereign of the shades.\nBy distribution tripart we received230\nEach his peculiar honors; me the lots\nMade Ruler of the hoary floods, and there\nI dwell for ever. Pluto, for his part,\nThe regions took of darkness; and the heavens,\nThe clouds, and boundless \u00e6ther, fell to Jove.235\nThe Earth and the Olympian heights alike\nAre common to the three. My life and being\nI hold not, therefore, at his will, whose best\nAnd safest course, with all his boasted power,\nWere to possess in peace his proper third.240\nLet him not seek to terrify with force\nMe like a dastard; let him rather chide\nHis own-begotten; with big-sounding words\nHis sons and daughters govern, who perforce\nObey his voice, and shrink at his commands.245\n  To whom thus Iris tempest-wing\u2019d replied,\nC\u0153rulean-tress\u2019d Sovereign of the Deep!\nShall I report to Jove, harsh as it is,\nThy speech, or wilt thou soften it? The wise\nAre flexible, and on the elder-born250\nErynnis, with her vengeful sisters, waits.[7]\n  Her answer\u2019d then the Shaker of the shores.\nPrudent is thy advice, Iris divine!\nDiscretion in a messenger is good\nAt all times. But the cause that fires me thus,255\nAnd with resentment my whole heart and mind\nPossesses, is the license that he claims\nTo vex with provocation rude of speech\nMe his compeer, and by decree of Fate\nIllustrious as himself; yet, though incensed,260\nAnd with just cause, I will not now persist.\nBut hear\u2014for it is treasured in my heart\nThe threat that my lips utter. If he still\nResolve to spare proud Ilium in despite\nOf me, of Pallas, Goddess of the spoils,265\nOf Juno, Mercury, and the King of fire,\nAnd will not overturn her lofty towers,\nNor grant immortal glory to the Greeks,\nThen tell him thus\u2014hostility shall burn,\nAnd wrath between us never to be quench\u2019d.270\n  So saying, the Shaker of the shores forsook\nThe Grecian host, and plunged into the deep,\nMiss\u2019d by Achaia\u2019s heroes. Then, the cloud-Assembler\nGod thus to Apollo spake.\n  Hence, my Apollo! to the Trojan Chief275\nHector; for earth-encircler Neptune, awed\nBy fear of my displeasure imminent,\nHath sought the sacred Deep. Else, all the Gods\nWho compass Saturn in the nether realms,\nHad even there our contest heard, I ween,280\nAnd heard it loudly. But that he retreats\nAlthough at first incensed, shunning my wrath,\nIs salutary both for him and me,\nWhose difference else had not been healed with ease.\nTake thou my shaggy \u00c6gis, and with force285\nSmiting it, terrify the Chiefs of Greece.\nAs for illustrious Hector, him I give\nTo thy peculiar care; fail not to rouse\nHis fiercest courage, till he push the Greeks\nTo Hellespont, and to their ships again;290\nThenceforth to yield to their afflicted host\nSome pause from toil, shall be my own concern.\n  He ended, nor Apollo disobey\u2019d\nHis father\u2019s voice; from the Id\u00e6an heights,\nSwift as the swiftest of the fowls of air,295\nThe dove-destroyer falcon, down he flew.\nThe noble Hector, valiant Priam\u2019s son\nHe found, not now extended on the plain,\nBut seated; newly, as from death, awaked,\nAnd conscious of his friends; freely he breathed300\nNor sweated more, by Jove himself revived.\nApollo stood beside him, and began.\n  Say, Hector, Priam\u2019s son! why sittest here\nFeeble and spiritless, and from thy host\nApart? what new disaster hath befall\u2019n?305\n  To whom with difficulty thus replied\nThe warlike Chief.\u2014But tell me who art Thou,\nDivine inquirer! best of powers above!\nKnow\u2019st not that dauntless Ajax me his friends\nSlaughtering at yonder ships, hath with a stone310\nSurceased from fight, smiting me on the breast?\nI thought to have beheld, this day, the dead\nIn Ades, every breath so seem\u2019d my last.\n  Then answer thus the Archer-God return\u2019d.\nCourage this moment! such a helper Jove315\nFrom Ida sends thee at thy side to war\nContinual, Ph\u0153bus of the golden sword,\nWhose guardian aid both thee and lofty Troy\nHath succor\u2019d many a time. Therefore arise!\nInstant bid drive thy numerous charioteers320\nTheir rapid steeds full on the Grecian fleet;\nI, marching at their head, will smooth, myself,\nThe way before them, and will turn again\nTo flight the heroes of the host of Greece.\n  He said and with new strength the Chief inspired.325\nAs some stall\u2019d horse high pamper\u2019d, snapping short\nHis cord, beats under foot the sounding soil,\nAccustom\u2019d in smooth-sliding streams to lave\nExulting; high he bears his head, his mane\nWantons around his shoulders; pleased, he eyes330\nHis glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees\nSoon finds the haunts where all his fellows graze;\nSo bounded Hector, and his agile joints\nPlied lightly, quicken\u2019d by the voice divine,\nAnd gather\u2019d fast his charioteers to battle.335\nBut as when hounds and hunters through the woods\nRush in pursuit of stag or of wild goat,\nHe, in some cave with tangled boughs o\u2019erhung,\nLies safe conceal\u2019d, no destined prey of theirs,\nTill by their clamors roused, a lion grim340\nStarts forth to meet them; then, the boldest fly;\nSuch hot pursuit the Dana\u00ef, with swords\nAnd spears of double edge long time maintain\u2019d.\nBut seeing Hector in his ranks again\nOccupied, felt at once their courage fall\u2019n.345\n  Then, Thoas them, Andr\u00e6mon\u2019s son, address\u2019d,\nForemost of the \u00c6tolians, at the spear\nSkilful, in stationary combat bold,\nAnd when the sons of Greece held in dispute\nThe prize of eloquence, excell\u2019d by few.350\nPrudent advising them, he thus began.\n  Ye Gods! what prodigy do I behold?\nHath Hector, \u2019scaping death, risen again?\nFor him, with confident persuasion all\nBelieved by Telamonian Ajax slain.355\nBut some Divinity hath interposed\nTo rescue and save Hector, who the joints\nHath stiffen\u2019d of full many a valiant Greek,\nAs surely now he shall; for, not without\nThe Thunderer\u2019s aid, he flames in front again.360\nBut take ye all my counsel. Send we back\nThe multitude into the fleet, and first\nLet us, who boast ourselves bravest in fight,\nStand, that encountering him with lifted spears,\nWe may attempt to give his rage a check.365\nTo thrust himself into a band like ours\nWill, doubtless, even in Hector move a fear.\n  He ceased, with whose advice all, glad, complied.\nThen Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete,\nTeucer, Meriones, and Meges fierce370\nAs Mars in battle, summoning aloud\nThe noblest Greeks, in opposition firm\nTo Hector and his host their bands prepared,\nWhile others all into the fleet retired.\nTroy\u2019s crowded host[8] struck first. With awful strides375\nCame Hector foremost; him Apollo led,\nHis shoulders wrapt in clouds, and, on his arm,\nThe \u00c6gis shagg\u2019d terrific all around,\nTempestuous, dazzling-bright; it was a gift\nTo Jove from Vulcan, and design\u2019d to appall,380\nAnd drive to flight the armies of the earth.\nArm\u2019d with that shield Apollo led them on.\nFirm stood the embodied Greeks; from either host\nShrill cries arose; the arrows from the nerve\nLeap\u2019d, and, by vigorous arms dismiss\u2019d, the spears385\nFlew frequent; in the flesh some stood infixt\nOf warlike youths, but many, ere they reach\u2019d\nThe mark they coveted, unsated fell\nBetween the hosts, and rested in the soil.\nLong as the God unagitated held390\nThe dreadful disk, so long the vollied darts\nMade mutual slaughter, and the people fell;\nBut when he look\u2019d the Grecian charioteers\nFull in the face and shook it, raising high\nHimself the shout of battle, then he quell\u2019d395\nTheir spirits, then he struck from every mind\nAt once all memory of their might in arms.\nAs when two lions in the still, dark night\nA herd of beeves scatter or numerous flock\nSuddenly, in the absence of the guard,400\nSo fled the heartless Greeks, for Ph\u0153bus sent\nTerrors among them, but renown conferr\u2019d\nAnd triumph proud on Hector and his host.\nThen, in that foul disorder of the field,\nMan singled man. Arcesila\u00fcs died405\nBy Hector\u2019s arm, and Stichius; one, a Chief[9]\nOf the B\u0153otians brazen-mail\u2019d, and one,\nMenestheus\u2019 faithful follower to the fight.\n\u00c6neas Medon and I\u00e4sus slew.\nMedon was spurious offspring of divine410\nO\u00efleus Ajax\u2019 father, and abode\nIn Phylace; for he had slain a Chief\nBrother of Eriopis the espoused\nOf brave O\u00efleus; but I\u00e4sus led\nA phalanx of Athenians, and the son415\nOf Sphelus, son of Bucolus was deem\u2019d.\nPierced by Polydamas Mecisteus fell,\nPolites, in the van of battle, slew\nEchion, and Agenor Clonius;\nBut Paris, while De\u00efochus to flight420\nTurn\u2019d with the routed van, pierced him beneath\nHis shoulder-blade, and urged the weapon through.\n  While them the Trojans spoil\u2019d, meantime the Greeks,\nEntangled in the piles of the deep foss,\nFled every way, and through necessity425\nRepass\u2019d the wall. Then Hector with a voice\nOf loud command bade every Trojan cease\nFrom spoil, and rush impetuous on the fleet.\n[10]And whom I find far lingering from the ships\nWherever, there he dies; no funeral fires430\nBrother on him, or sister, shall bestow,\nBut dogs shall rend him in the sight of Troy.\n  So saying, he lash\u2019d the shoulders of his steeds,\nAnd through the ranks vociferating, call\u2019d\nHis Trojans on; they, clamorous as he,435\nAll lash\u2019d their steeds, and menacing, advanced.\nBefore them with his feet Apollo push\u2019d\nThe banks into the foss, bridging the gulf\nWith pass commodious, both in length and breadth\nA lance\u2019s flight, for proof of vigor hurl\u2019d.440\nThere, phalanx after phalanx, they their host\nPour\u2019d dense along, while Ph\u0153bus in the van\nDisplay\u2019d the awful \u00e6gis, and the wall\nLevell\u2019d with ease divine. As, on the shore\nSome wanton boy with sand builds plaything walls,445\nThen, sportive spreads them with his feet abroad,\nSo thou, shaft-arm\u2019d Apollo! that huge work\nLaborious of the Greeks didst turn with ease\nTo ruin, and themselves drovest all to flight.\nThey, thus enforced into the fleet, again450\nStood fast, with mutual exhortation each\nHis friend encouraging, and all the Gods\nWith lifted hands soliciting aloud.\nBut, more than all, Gerenian Nestor pray\u2019d\nFervent, Achaia\u2019s guardian, and with arms455\nOutstretch\u2019d toward the starry skies, exclaim\u2019d.\n  Jove, Father! if in corn-clad Argos, one,\nOne Greek hath ever, burning at thy shrine\nFat thighs of sheep or oxen, ask\u2019d from thee\nA safe return, whom thou hast gracious heard,460\nOlympian King! and promised what he sought,\nNow, in remembrance of it, give us help\nIn this disastrous day, nor thus permit\nTheir Trojan foes to tread the Grecians down!\n  So Nestor pray\u2019d, and Jove thunder\u2019d aloud465\nResponsive to the old Nele\u00efan\u2019s prayer.\nBut when that voice of \u00c6gis-bearing Jove\nThe Trojans heard, more furious on the Greeks\nThey sprang, all mindful of the fight. As when\nA turgid billow of some spacious sea,470\nWhile the wind blow that heaves its highest, borne\nSheer o\u2019er the vessel\u2019s side, rolls into her,\nWith such loud roar the Trojans pass\u2019d the wall;\nIn rush\u2019d the steeds, and at the ships they waged\nFierce battle hand to hand, from chariots, these,475\nWith spears of double edge, those, from the decks\nOf many a sable bark, with naval poles\nLong, ponderous, shod with steel; for every ship\nHad such, for conflict maritime prepared.\n  While yet the battle raged only without480\nThe wall, and from the ships apart, so long\nPatroclus quiet in the tent and calm\nSat of Eurypylus, his generous friend\nConsoling with sweet converse, and his wound\nSprinkling with drugs assuasive of his pains.485\nBut soon as through the broken rampart borne\nHe saw the Trojans, and the clamor heard\nAnd tumult of the flying Greeks, a voice\nOf loud lament uttering, with open palms\nHis thighs he smote, and, sorrowful, exclaim\u2019d.490\n  Eurypylus! although thy need be great,\nNo longer may I now sit at thy side,\nSuch contest hath arisen; thy servant\u2019s voice\nMust soothe thee now, for I will to the tent\nHaste of Achilles, and exhort him forth;495\nWho knows? if such the pleasure of the Gods,\nI may prevail; friends rarely plead in vain.\n  So saying, he went. Meantime the Greeks endured\nThe Trojan onset, firm, yet from the ships\nRepulsed them not, though fewer than themselves,500\nNor could the host of Troy, breaking the ranks\nOf Greece, mix either with the camp or fleet;\nBut as the line divides the plank aright,\nStretch\u2019d by some naval architect, whose hand\nMinerva hath accomplish\u2019d in his art,505\nSo stretch\u2019d on them the cord of battle lay.\nOthers at other ships the conflict waged,\nBut Hector to the ship advanced direct\nOf glorious Ajax; for one ship they strove;\nNor Hector, him dislodging thence, could fire510\nThe fleet, nor Ajax from the fleet repulse\nHector, conducted thither by the Gods.\nThen, noble Ajax with a spear the breast\nPierced of Caletor, son of Clytius, arm\u2019d\nWith fire to burn his bark; sounding he fell,515\nAnd from his loosen\u2019d grasp down dropp\u2019d the brand.\nBut Hector seeing his own kinsman fallen\nBeneath the sable bark, with mighty voice\nCall\u2019d on the hosts of Lycia and of Troy.\n  Trojans and Lycians, and close-fighting sons520\nOf Dardanus, within this narrow pass\nStand firm, retreat not, but redeem the son\nOf Clytius, lest the Grecians of his arms\nDespoil him slain in battle at the ships.\n\n  So saying, at Ajax his bright spear he cast525\nHim pierced he not, but Lycophron the son\nOf Mastor, a Cytherian, who had left\nCytheras, fugitive for blood, and dwelt\nWith Ajax. Him standing at Ajax\u2019 side,\nHe pierced above his ear; down from the stern530\nSupine he fell, and in the dust expired.\nThen, shuddering, Ajax to his brother spake.\n  Alas, my Teucer! we have lost our friend;\nMastorides is slain, whom we received\nAn inmate from Cyther\u00e6, and with love535\nAnd reverence even filia,, entertain\u2019d;\nB9 Hector pierced, he dies. Where are thy shafts\nDeath-wing\u2019d, and bow, by gift from Ph\u0153bus thine?\n  He said, whom Teucer hearing, instant ran\nWith bow and well-stored quiver to his side,540\nWhence soon his arrows sought the Trojan host.\nHe struck Pisenor\u2019s son Clytus, the friend\nAnd charioteer of brave Polydamas,\nOffspring of Panthus, toiling with both hands\nTo rule his fiery steeds; for more to please545\nThe Trojans and their Chief, where stormy most\nHe saw the battle, thither he had driven.\nBut sudden mischief, valiant as he was,\nFound him, and such as none could waft aside,\nFor right into his neck the arrow plunged,550\nAnd down he fell; his startled coursers shook\nTheir trappings, and the empty chariot rang.\nThat sound alarm\u2019d Polydamas; he turn\u2019d,\nAnd flying to their heads, consign\u2019d them o\u2019er\nTo Protia\u00f6n\u2019s son, Astyno\u00fcs,555\nWhom he enjoin\u2019d to keep them in his view;\nThen, turning, mingled with the van again.\nBut Teucer still another shaft produced\nDesign\u2019d for valiant Hector, whose exploits\n(Had that shaft reach\u2019d him) at the ships of Greece560\nHad ceased for ever. But the eye of Jove,\nGuardian of Hector\u2019s life, slept not; he took\nFrom Telamonian Te5cer that renown,\nAnd while he stood straining the twisted nerve\nAgainst the Trojan, snapp\u2019d it. Devious flew565\nThe steel-charged[11] arrow, and he dropp\u2019d his bow.\nThen shuddering, to his brother thus he spake.\n  Ah! it is evident. Some Power divine\nMakes fruitless all our efforts, who hath struck\nMy bow out of my hand, and snapt the cord570\nWith which I strung it new at dawn of day,\nThat it might bear the bound of many a shaft.\n  To whom the towering son of Telamon.\nLeave then thy bow, and let thine arrows rest,\nWhich, envious of the Greeks, some God confounds,575\nThat thou may\u2019st fight with spear and buckler arm\u2019d,\nAnd animate the rest. Such be our deeds\nThat, should they conquer us, our foes may find\nOur ships, at least a prize not lightly won.\n  So Ajax spake; then Teucer, in his tent580\nThe bow replacing, slung his fourfold shield,\nSettled on his illustrious brows his casque\nWith hair high-crested, waving, as he moved,\nTerrible from above, took forth a spear\nTough-grain\u2019d, acuminated sharp with brass,585\nAnd stood, incontinent, at Ajax\u2019 side.\nHector perceived the change, and of the cause\nConscious, with echoing voice call\u2019d to his host.\n  Trojans and Lycians and close-fighting sons\nOf Dardanus, oh now, my friends, be men;590\nNow, wheresoever through the fleet dispersed,\nCall into mind the fury of your might!\nFor I have seen, myself, Jove rendering vain\nThe arrows of their mightiest. Man may know\nWith ease the hand of interposing Jove,595\nBoth whom to glory he ordains, and whom\nHe weakens and aids not; so now he leaves\nThe Grecians, but propitious smiles on us.\nTherefore stand fast, and whosoever gall\u2019d\nBy arrow or by spear, dies\u2014let him die;600\nIt shall not shame him that he died to serve\nHis country,[12] but his children, wife and home,\nWith all his heritage, shall be secure,\nDrive but the Grecians from the shores of Troy.\n  So saying, he animated each. Meantime,605\nAjax his fellow-warriors thus address\u2019d.\n  Shame on you all! Now, Grecians, either die,\nOr save at once your galley and yourselves.\nHope ye, that should your ships become the prize\nOf warlike Hector, ye shall yet return610\nOn foot? Or hear ye not the Chief aloud\nSummoning all his host, and publishing\nHis own heart\u2019s wish to burn your fleet with fire?\nNot to a dance, believe me, but to fight\nHe calls them; therefore wiser course for us615\nIs none, than that we mingle hands with hands\nIn contest obstinate, and force with force.\nBetter at once to perish, or at once\nTo rescue life, than to consume the time\nHour after hour in lingering conflict vain620\nHere at the ships, with an inferior foe.\n  He said, and by his words into all hearts\nFresh confidence infused. Then Hector smote\nSchedius, a Chief of the Phocensian powers\nAnd son of Perimedes; Ajax slew,625\nMeantime, a Chief of Trojan infantry,\nLaodamas, Antenor\u2019s noble son\nWhile by Polydamas, a leader bold\nOf the Epeans, and Phylides\u2019[13] friend,\nCyllenian Otus died. Meges that sight630\nViewing indignant on the conqueror sprang,\nBut, starting wide, Polydamas escaped,\nSaved by Apollo, and his spear transpierced\nThe breast of Cr\u00e6smus; on his sounding shield\nProstrate he fell, and Meges stripp\u2019d his arms.635\nHim so employ\u2019d Dolops assail\u2019d, brave son\nOf Lampus, best of men and bold in fight,\nOffspring of King Laomedon; he stood\nFull near, and through his middle buckler struck\nThe son of Phyleus, but his corselet thick640\nWith plates of scaly brass his life secured.\nThat corselet Phyleus on a time brought home\nFrom Ephyre, where the Selle\u00efs winds,\nAnd it was given him for his life\u2019s defence\nIn furious battle by the King of men,645\nEuphetes. Many a time had it preserved\nUnharm\u2019d the sire, and now it saved the son.\nThen Meges, rising, with his pointed lance\nThe bushy crest of Dolops\u2019 helmet drove\nSheer from its base; new-tinged with purple bright650\nEntire it fell and mingled with the dust.\nWhile thus they strove, each hoping victory,\nCame martial Menelaus to the aid\nOf Meges; spear in hand apart he stood\nBy Dolops unperceived, through his back drove655\nAnd through his breast the spear, and far beyond.\nAnd down fell Dolops, forehead to the ground.\nAt once both flew to strip his radiant arms,\nThen, Hector summoning his kindred, call\u2019d\nEach to his aid, and Melanippus first,660\nIllustrious Hicetaon\u2019s son, reproved.\nEre yet the enemies of Troy arrived\nHe in Percote fed his wandering beeves;\nBut when the Dana\u00ef with all their fleet\nCame thither, then returning, he outshone665\nThe noblest Trojans, and at Priam\u2019s side\nDwelling, was honor\u2019d by him as a son.\nHim Hector reprimanding, stern began.\n  Are we thus slack? Can Melanippus view\nUnmoved a kinsman slain? Seest not the Greeks670\nHow busy there with Dolops and his arms?\nCome on. It is no time for distant war,\nBut either our Achaian foes must bleed,\nOr Ilium taken, from her topmost height\nMust stoop, and all her citizens be slain.675\n  So saying he went, whose steps the godlike Chief\nAttended; and the Telamonian, next,\nHuge Ajax, animated thus the Greeks.\n  Oh friends, be men! Deep treasure in your hearts\nAn honest shame, and, fighting bravely, fear680\nEach to incur the censure of the rest.\nOf men so minded more survive than die,\nWhile dastards forfeit life and glory both.\n  So moved he them, themselves already bent\nTo chase the Trojans; yet his word they bore685\nFaithful in mind, and with a wall of brass\nFenced firm the fleet, while Jove impell\u2019d the foe.\nThen Menelaus, brave in fight, approach\u2019d\nAntilochus, and thus his courage roused.\n  Antilochus! in all the host is none690\nYounger, or swifter, or of stronger limb\nThan thou. Make trial, therefore, of thy might,\nSpring forth and prove it on some Chief of Troy.\n  He ended and retired, but him his praise\nEffectual animated; from the van695\nStarting, he cast a wistful eye around\nAnd hurl\u2019d his glittering spear; back fell the ranks\nOf Troy appall\u2019d; nor vain his weapon flew,\nBut Melanippus pierced heroic son\nOf Hicetaon, coming forth to fight,700\nFull in the bosom, and with dreadful sound\nOf all his batter\u2019d armor down he fell.\nSwift flew Antilochus as flies the hound\nSome fawn to seize, which issuing from her lair\nThe hunter with his lance hath stricken dead,705\nSo thee, O Melanippus! to despoil\nOf thy bright arms valiant Antilochus\nSprang forth, but not unnoticed by the eye\nOf noble Hector, who through all the war\nRan to encounter him; his dread approach710\nAntilochus, although expert in arms,\nStood not, but as some prowler of the wilds,\nConscious of injury that he hath done,\nSlaying the watchful herdsman or his dog,\nEscapes, ere yet the peasantry arise,715\nSo fled the son of Nestor, after whom\nThe Trojans clamoring and Hector pour\u2019d\nDarts numberless; but at the front arrived\nOf his own phalanx, there he turn\u2019d and stood.\nThen, eager as voracious lions, rush\u2019d720\nThe Trojans on the fleet of Greece, the mind\nOf Jove accomplishing who them impell\u2019d\nContinual, calling all their courage forth,\nWhile, every Grecian heart he tamed, and took\nTheir glory from them, strengthening Ilium\u2019s host.725\nFor Jove\u2019s unalter\u2019d purpose was to give\nSuccess to Priameian Hector\u2019s arms,[14]\nThat he might cast into the fleet of Greece\nDevouring flames, and that no part might fail\nOf Thetis\u2019 ruthless prayer; that sight alone730\nHe watch\u2019d to see, one galley in a blaze,\nOrdaining foul repulse, thenceforth, and flight\nTo Ilium\u2019s host, but glory to the Greeks.\nSuch was the cause for which, at first, he moved\nTo that assault Hector, himself prepared735\nAnd ardent for the task; nor less he raged\nThan Mars while fighting, or than flames that seize\nSome forest on the mountain-tops; the foam\nHung at his lips, beneath his awful front\nHis keen eyes glisten\u2019d, and his helmet mark\u2019d740\nThe agitation wild with which he fought.\nFor Jove omnipotent, himself, from heaven\nAssisted Hector, and, although alone\nWith multitudes he strove, gave him to reach\nThe heights of glory, for that now his life745\nWaned fast, and, urged by Pallas on,[15] his hour\nTo die by Peleus\u2019 mighty son approach\u2019d.\nHe then, wherever richest arms he saw\nAnd thickest throng, the warrior-ranks essay\u2019d\nTo break, but broke them not, though fierce resolved,750\nIn even square compact so firm they stood.\nAs some vast rock beside the hoary Deep\nThe stress endures of many a hollow wind,\nAnd the huge billows tumbling at his base,\nSo stood the Dana\u00ef, nor fled nor fear\u2019d.755\nBut he, all-fiery bright in arms, the host\nAssail\u2019d on every side, and on the van\nFell, as a wave by wintry blasts upheaved\nFalls ponderous on the ship; white clings the foam\nAround her, in her sail shrill howls the storm,760\nAnd every seaman trembles at the view\nOf thousand deaths from which he scarce escapes,\nSuch anguish rent the bosom of the Greeks.\nBut he, as leaps a famish\u2019d lion fell\nOn beeves that graze some marshy meadow\u2019s breadth,765\nA countless herd, tended by one unskill\u2019d\nTo cope with savage beasts in their defence,\nBeside the foremost kine or with the last\nHe paces heedless, but the lion, borne\nImpetuous on the midmost, one devours770\nAnd scatters all the rest,[16] so fled the Greeks,\nTerrified from above, before the arm\nOf Hector, and before the frown of Jove.\nAll fled, but of them all alone he slew\nThe Mycen\u00e6an Periphetes, son775\nOf Copreus custom\u2019d messenger of King\nEurystheus to the might of Hercules.\nFrom such a sire inglorious had arisen\nA son far worthier, with all virtue graced,\nSwift-footed, valiant, and by none excell\u2019d780\nIn wisdom of the Mycen\u00e6an name;\nYet all but served to ennoble Hector more.\nFor Periphetes, with a backward step\nRetiring, on his buckler\u2019s border trod,\nWhich swept his heels; so check\u2019d, he fell supine,785\nAnd dreadful rang the helmet on his brows.\nHim Hector quick noticing, to his side\nHasted, and, planting in his breast a spear,\nSlew him before the phalanx of his friends.\nBut they, although their fellow-warrior\u2019s fate790\nThey mourn\u2019d, no succor interposed, or could,\nThemselves by noble Hector sore appall\u2019d.\n  And now behind the ships (all that updrawn\nAbove the shore, stood foremost of the fleet)\nThe Greeks retired; in rush\u2019d a flood of foes;795\nThen, through necessity, the ships in front\nAbandoning, amid the tents they stood\nCompact, not disarray\u2019d, for shame and fear\nFast held them, and vociferating each\nAloud, call\u2019d ceaseless on the rest to stand.800\nBut earnest more than all, guardian of all,\nGerenian Nestor in their parents\u2019 name\nImplored them, falling at the knees of each.\n  Oh friends! be men. Now dearly prize your place\nEach in the estimation of the rest.805\nNow call to memory your children, wives,\nPossessions, parents; ye whose parents live,\nAnd ye whose parents are not, all alike!\nBy them as if here present, I entreat\nThat ye stand fast\u2014oh be not turn\u2019d to flight!810\n  So saying he roused the courage of the Greeks;\nThen, Pallas chased the cloud fall\u2019n from above\nOn every eye; great light the plain illumed\nOn all sides, both toward the fleet, and where\nThe undiscriminating battle raged.815\nThen might be seen Hector and Hector\u2019s host\nDistinct, as well the rearmost who the fight\nShared not, as those who waged it at the ships.\n  To stand aloof where other Grecians stood\nNo longer now would satisfy the mind820\nOf Ajax, but from deck to deck with strides\nEnormous marching, to and fro he swung\nWith iron studs emboss\u2019d a battle-pole\nUnwieldy, twenty and two cubits long.\nAs one expert to spring from horse to horse,825\nFrom many steeds selecting four, toward\nSome noble city drives them from the plain\nAlong the populous road; him many a youth\nAnd many a maiden eyes, while still secure\nFrom steed to steed he vaults; they rapid fly;830\nSo Ajax o\u2019er the decks of numerous ships\nStalk\u2019d striding large, and sent his voice to heaven.\nThus, ever clamoring, he bade the Greeks\nStand both for camp and fleet. Nor could himself\nHector, contented, now, the battle wage835\nLost in the multitude of Trojans more,\nBut as the tawny eagle on full wing\nAssails the feather\u2019d nations, geese or cranes\nOr swans lithe-neck\u2019d grazing the river\u2019s verge,\nSo Hector at a galley sable-prow\u2019d840\nDarted; for, from behind, Jove urged him on\nWith mighty hand, and his host after him.\nAnd now again the battle at the ships\nGrew furious; thou hadst deem\u2019d them of a kind\nBy toil untameable, so fierce they strove,845\nAnd, striving, thus they fought. The Grecians judged\nHope vain, and the whole host\u2019s destruction sure;\nBut nought expected every Trojan less\nThan to consume the fleet with fire, and leave\nAchaia\u2019s heroes lifeless on the field.850\nWith such persuasions occupied, they fought.\n  Then Hector seized the stern of a brave bark\nWell-built, sharp-keel\u2019d, and of the swiftest sail,\nWhich had to Troy Protesil\u00e4us brought,\nBut bore him never thence. For that same ship855\nContending, Greeks and Trojans hand to hand\nDealt slaughter mutual. Javelins now no more\nMight serve them, or the arrow-starting bow,\nBut close conflicting and of one mind all\nWith bill and battle-axe, with ponderous swords,860\nAnd with long lances double-edged they fought.\nMany a black-hilted falchion huge of haft\nFell to the ground, some from the grasp, and some\nFrom shoulders of embattled warriors hewn,\nAnd pools of blood soak\u2019d all the sable glebe.865\nHector that ship once grappled by the stern\nLeft not, but griping fast her upper edge\nWith both hands, to his Trojans call\u2019d aloud.\n  Fire! Bring me fire! Stand fast and shout to heaven!\nJove gives us now a day worth all the past;870\nThe ships are ours which, in the Gods\u2019 despite\nSteer\u2019d hither, such calamities to us\nHave caused, for which our seniors most I blame\nWho me withheld from battle at the fleet\nAnd check\u2019d the people; but if then the hand875\nOf Thunderer Jove our better judgment marr\u2019d,\nHimself now urges and commands us on.\n  He ceased; they still more violent assail\u2019d\nThe Grecians. Even Ajax could endure,\nWhelm\u2019d under weapons numberless, that storm880\nNo longer, but expecting death retired\nDown from the decks to an inferior stand,\nWhere still he watch\u2019d, and if a Trojan bore\nFire thither, he repulsed him with his spear,\nRoaring continual to the host of Greece.885\n  Friends! Grecian heroes! ministers of Mars!\nBe men, my friends! now summon all your might!\nThink we that we have thousands at our backs\nTo succor us, or yet some stronger wall\nTo guard our warriors from the battle\u2019s force?890\nNot so. No tower\u2019d city is at hand,\nNone that presents us with a safe retreat\nWhile others occupy our station here,\nBut from the shores of Argos far remote\nOur camp is, where the Trojans arm\u2019d complete895\nSwarm on the plain, and Ocean shuts us in.\nOur hands must therefore save us, not our heels\n  He said, and furious with his spear again\nPress\u2019d them, and whatsoever Trojan came,\nObsequious to the will of Hector, arm\u2019d900\nWith fire to burn the fleet, on his spear\u2019s point\nAjax receiving pierced him, till at length\nTwelve in close fight fell by his single arm.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XVI.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE SIXTEENTH BOOK.\n\nAchilles, at the suit of Patroclus, grants him his own armor, and\npermission to lead the Myrmidons to battle. They, sallying, repulse the\nTrojans. Patroclus slays Sarpedon, and Hector, when Apollo had first\nstripped off his armor and Euphorbus wounded him, slays Patroclus.\n\n\nBOOK XVI.\n\n\nSuch contest for that gallant bark they waged.\nMeantime Patroclus, standing at the side\nOf the illustrious Chief Achilles, wept\nFast as a crystal fountain from the height\nOf some rude rock pours down its rapid[1] stream.5\nDivine Achilles with compassion moved\nMark\u2019d him, and in wing\u2019d accents thus began.[2]\n  Who weeps Patroclus like an infant girl\nWho, running at her mother\u2019s side, entreats\nTo be uplifted in her arms? She grasps10\nHer mantle, checks her haste, and looking up\nWith tearful eyes, pleads earnest to be borne;\nSo fall, Patroclus! thy unceasing tears.\nBring\u2019st thou to me or to my people aught\nAfflictive? Hast thou mournful tidings learn\u2019d15\nProm Phthia, trusted to thy ear alone?\nMen\u0153tius, son of Actor, as they say,\nStill lives; still lives his Myrmidons among\nPeleus \u00c6acides; whom, were they dead,\nWith cause sufficient we should both deplore.20\nOr weep\u2019st thou the Achaians at the ships\nPerishing, for their outrage done to me?\nSpeak. Name thy trouble. I would learn the cause\n  To whom, deep-sorrowing, thou didst reply,\nPatroclus! Oh Achilles, Peleus\u2019 son!25\nNoblest of all our host! bear with my grief,\nSince such distress hath on the Grecians fallen.\nThe bravest of their ships disabled lie,\nSome wounded from afar, some hand to hand.\nDiomede, warlike son of Tydeus, bleeds,30\nGall\u2019d by a shaft; Ulysses, glorious Chief,\nAnd Agamemnon suffer by the spear,\nAnd brave Eurypylus an arrow-point\nBears in his thigh. These all, are now the care\nOf healing hands. Oh thou art pity-proof,35\nAchilles! be my bosom ever free\nFrom anger such as harbor finds in thine,\nScorning all limits! whom, of men unborn,\nHereafter wilt thou save, from whom avert\nDisgrace, if not from the Achaians now?40\nAh ruthless! neither Peleus thee begat,\nNor Thetis bore, but rugged rocks sublime,\nAnd roaring billows blue gave birth to thee,\nWho bear\u2019st a mind that knows not to relent,\nBut, if some prophecy alarm thy fears,45\nIf from thy Goddess-mother thou have aught\nReceived, and with authority of Jove,\nMe send at least, me quickly, and with me\nThe Myrmidons. A dawn of cheerful hope\nShall thence, it may be, on the Greeks arise.50\nGrant me thine armor also, that the foe\nThyself supposing present, may abstain\nFrom battle, and the weary Greeks enjoy\nShort respite; it is all that war allows.\nWe, fresh and vigorous, by our shouts alone55\nMay easily repulse an army spent\nWith labor from the camp, and from the fleet,\n  Such suit he made, alas! all unforewarn\u2019d\nThat his own death should be the bitter fruit,\nAnd thus Achilles, sorrowful, replied.60\n  Patroclus, noble friend! what hast thou spoken?\nMe neither prophesy that I have heard\nHolds in suspense, nor aught that I have learn\u2019d\nFrom Thetis with authority of Jove!\nHence springs, and hence alone, my grief of heart;65\nIf one, in nought superior to myself\nSave in his office only, should by force\nAmerce me of my well-earn\u2019d recompense\u2014\nHow then? There lies the grief that stings my soul.\nThe virgin chosen for me by the sons70\nOf Greece, my just reward, by my own spear\nObtain\u2019d when I E\u00ebtion\u2019s city took,\nHer, Agamemnon, leader of the host\nFrom my possession wrung, as I had been\nSome alien wretch, unhonor\u2019d and unknown.75\nBut let it pass; anger is not a flame\nTo feed for ever; I affirm\u2019d, indeed,\nMine inextinguishable till the shout\nOf battle should invade my proper barks;\nBut thou put on my glorious arms, lead forth80\nMy valiant Myrmidons, since such a cloud,\nSo dark, of dire hostility surrounds\nThe fleet, and the Achaians, by the waves\nHemm\u2019d in, are prison\u2019d now in narrow space.\nBecause the Trojans meet not in the field85\nMy dazzling helmet, therefore bolder grown\nAll Ilium comes abroad; but had I found\nKindness at royal Agamemnon\u2019s hands,\nSoon had they fled, and with their bodies chok\u2019d\nThe streams, from whom ourselves now suffer siege90\nFor in the hands of Diomede his spear\nNo longer rages rescuing from death\nThe afflicted Dana\u00ef, nor hear I more\nThe voice of Agamemnon issuing harsh\nFrom his detested throat, but all around95\nThe burst[3] of homicidal Hector\u2019s cries,\nCalling his Trojans on; they loud insult\nThe vanquish\u2019d Greeks, and claim the field their own.\nGo therefore, my Patroclus; furious fall\nOn these assailants, even now preserve100\nFrom fire the only hope of our return.\nBut hear the sum of all; mark well my word;\nSo shalt thou glorify me in the eyes\nOf all the Dana\u00ef, and they shall yield\nBris\u00ebis mine, with many a gift beside.105\nThe Trojans from the fleet expell\u2019d, return.\nShould Juno\u2019s awful spouse give thee to win\nVictory, be content; seek not to press\nThe Trojans without me, for thou shalt add\nStill more to the disgrace already mine.[4]110\nMuch less, by martial ardor urged, conduct\nThy slaughtering legions to the walls of Troy,\nLest some immortal power on her behalf\nDescend, for much the Archer of the skies\nLoves Ilium. No\u2014the fleet once saved, lead back115\nThy band, and leave the battle to themselves.\nFor oh, by all the powers of heaven I would\nThat not one Trojan might escape of all,\nNor yet a Grecian, but that we, from death\nOurselves escaping, might survive to spread120\nTroy\u2019s sacred bulwarks on the ground, alone.\n  Thus they conferr\u2019d. [5]But Ajax overwhelm\u2019d\nMeantime with darts, no longer could endure,\nQuell\u2019d both by Jupiter and by the spears\nOf many a noble Trojan; hideous rang125\nHis batter\u2019d helmet bright, stroke after stroke\nSustaining on all sides, and his left arm\nThat had so long shifted from side to side\nHis restless shield, now fail\u2019d; yet could not all\nDisplace him with united force, or move.130\nQuick pantings heaved his chest, copious the sweat\nTrickled from all his limbs, nor found he time,\nHowever short, to breathe again, so close\nEvil on evil heap\u2019d hemm\u2019d him around.\n  Olympian Muses! now declare, how first135\nThe fire was kindled in Achaia\u2019s fleet?\n  Hector the ashen lance of Ajax smote\nWith his broad falchion, at the nether end,\nAnd lopp\u2019d it sheer. The Telamonian Chief\nHis mutilated beam brandish\u2019d in vain,140\nAnd the bright point shrill-sounding-fell remote.\nThen Ajax in his noble mind perceived,\nShuddering with awe, the interposing power\nOf heaven, and that, propitious to the arms\nOf Troy, the Thunderer had ordain\u2019d to mar145\nAnd frustrate all the counsels of the Greeks.\nHe left his stand; they fired the gallant bark;\nThrough all her length the conflagration ran\nIncontinent, and wrapp\u2019d her stern in flames.\nAchilles saw them, smote his thighs, and said,150\n  Patroclus, noble charioteer, arise!\nI see the rapid run of hostile fires\nAlready in the fleet\u2014lest all be lost,\nAnd our return impossible, arm, arm\nThis moment; I will call, myself, the band.155\n  Then put Patroclus on his radiant arms.\nAround his legs his polish\u2019d greaves he clasp\u2019d,\nWith argent studs secured; the hauberk rich\nStar-spangled to his breast he bound of swift\n\u00c6acides; he slung his brazen sword160\nWith silver bright emboss\u2019d, and his broad shield\nPonderous; on his noble head his casque\nHe settled elegant, whose lofty crest\nWaved dreadful o\u2019er his brows, and last he seized\nWell fitted to his gripe two sturdy spears.165\nOf all Achilles\u2019 arms his spear alone\nHe took not; that huge beam, of bulk and length\nEnormous, none, \u00c6acides except,\nIn all Achaia\u2019s host had power to wield.\nIt was that Pelian ash which from the top170\nOf Pelion hewn that it might prove the death\nOf heroes, Chiron had to Peleus given.\nHe bade Automedon his coursers bind\nSpeedily to the yoke, for him he loved\nNext to Achilles most, as worthiest found175\nOf trust, what time the battle loudest roar\u2019d.\nThen led Automedon the fiery steeds\nSwift as wing\u2019d tempests to the chariot-yoke,\nXanthus and Balius. Them the harpy bore\nPodarge, while in meadows green she fed180\nOn Ocean\u2019s side, to Zephyrus the wind.\nTo these he added, at their side, a third,\nThe noble Pedasus; him Peleus\u2019 son,\nE\u00ebtion\u2019s city taken, thence had brought,\nThough mortal, yet a match for steeds divine.185\nMeantime from every tent Achilles call\u2019d\nAnd arm\u2019d his Myrmidons. As wolves that gorge\nThe prey yet panting, terrible in force,\nWhen on the mountains wild they have devour\u2019d\nAn antler\u2019d stag new-slain, with bloody jaws190\nTroop all at once to some clear fountain, there\nTo lap with slender tongues the brimming wave;\nNo fears have they, but at their ease eject\nFrom full maws flatulent the clotted gore;\nSuch seem\u2019d the Myrmidon heroic Chiefs195\nAssembling fast around the valiant friend\nOf swift \u00c6acides. Amid them stood\nWarlike Achilles, the well-shielded ranks\nExhorting, and the steeds, to glorious war.\n  The galleys by Achilles dear to Jove200\nCommanded, when to Ilium\u2019s coast he steer\u2019d,\nWere fifty; fifty rowers sat in each,\nAnd five, in whom he trusted, o\u2019er the rest\nHe captains named, but ruled, himself, supreme.\nOne band Menestheus swift in battle led,205\nOffspring of Sperchius heaven-descended stream.\nHim Polydora, Peleus\u2019 daughter, bore\nTo ever-flowing Sperchius, compress\u2019d,\nAlthough a mortal woman, by a God.\nBut his reputed father was the son210\nOf Perieres, Borus, who with dower\nEnrich\u2019d, and made her openly his bride.\nWarlike Eudorus led the second band.\nHim Polymela, graceful in the dance,\nAnd daughter beautiful of Phylas, bore,215\nA mother unsuspected of a child.\nHer worshiping the golden-shafted Queen\nDiana, in full choir, with song and dance,\nThe valiant Argicide[6] beheld and loved.\nAscending with her to an upper room,220\nAll-bounteous Mercury[7] clandestine there\nEmbraced her, who a noble son produced\nEudorus, swift to run, and bold in fight.\nNo sooner Ilithya, arbitress\nOf pangs puerperal, had given him birth,225\nAnd he beheld the beaming sun, than her\nEchechleus, Actor\u2019s mighty son, enrich\u2019d\nWith countless dower, and led her to his home;\nWhile ancient Phylas, cherishing her boy\nWith fond affection, reared him as his own.230\nThe third brave troop warlike Pisander led,\nOffspring of Maimalus; he far excell\u2019d\nIn spear-fight every Myrmidon, the friend\nOf Peleus\u2019 dauntless son alone except.\nThe hoary Ph\u0153nix of equestrian fame235\nThe fourth band led to battle, and the fifth\nLa\u00ebrceus\u2019 offspring, bold Alcimedon.\nThus, all his bands beneath their proper Chiefs\nMarshall\u2019d, Achilles gave them strict command\u2014\n  Myrmidons! all that vengeance now inflict,240\nWhich in this fleet ye ceased not to denounce\nAgainst the Trojans while my wrath endured.\nMe censuring, ye have proclaim\u2019d me oft\nObdurate. Oh Achilles! ye have said,\nThee not with milk thy mother but with bile245\nSuckled, who hold\u2019st thy people here in camp\nThus long imprison\u2019d. Unrelenting Chief!\nEven let us hence in our sea-skimming barks\nTo Phthia, since thou can\u2019st not be appeased\u2014\nThus in full council have ye spoken oft.250\nNow, therefore, since a day of glorious toil\nAt last appears, such as ye have desired,\nThere lies the field\u2014go\u2014give your courage proof.\n  So them he roused, and they, their leader\u2019s voice\nHearing elate, to closest order drew.255\nAs when an architect some palace wall\nWith shapely stones upbuilds, cementing close\nA barrier against all the winds of heaven,\nSo wedged, the helmets and boss\u2019d bucklers stood;\nShield, helmet, man, press\u2019d helmet, man, and shield,260\nAnd every bright-arm\u2019d warrior\u2019s bushy crest\nIts fellow swept, so dense was their array.\nIn front of all, two Chiefs their station took,\nPatroclus and Automedon; one mind\nIn both prevail\u2019d, to combat in the van265\nOf all the Myrmidons. Achilles, then,\nRetiring to his tent, displaced the lid\nOf a capacious chest magnificent\nBy silver-footed Thetis stow\u2019d on board\nHis bark, and fill\u2019d with tunics, mantles warm,270\nAnd gorgeous arras; there he also kept\nSecure a goblet exquisitely wrought,\nWhich never lip touched save his own, and whence\nHe offer\u2019d only to the Sire of all.\nThat cup producing from the chest, he first275\nWith sulphur fumed it, then with water rinsed\nPellucid of the running stream, and, last\n(His hands clean laved) he charged it high with wine.\nAnd now, advancing to his middle court,\nHe pour\u2019d libation, and with eyes to heaven280\nUplifted pray\u2019d,[8] of Jove not unobserved.\n  Pelasgian, Dodon\u00e6an Jove supreme,\nDwelling remote, who on Dodona\u2019s heights\nSnow-clad reign\u2019st Sovereign, by thy seers around\nCompass\u2019d the Selli, prophets vow-constrain\u2019d285\nTo unwash\u2019d feet and slumbers on the ground!\nPlain I behold my former prayer perform\u2019d,\nMyself exalted, and the Greeks abased.\nNow also grant me, Jove, this my desire!\nHere, in my fleet, I shall myself abide,290\nBut lo! with all these Myrmidons I send\nMy friend to battle. Thunder-rolling Jove,\nSend glory with him, make his courage firm!\nThat even Hector may himself be taught,\nIf my companion have a valiant heart295\nWhen he goes forth alone, or only then\nThe noble frenzy feels that Mars inspires\nWhen I rush also to the glorious field.\nBut when he shall have driven the battle-shout\nOnce from the fleet, grant him with all his arms,300\nNone lost, himself unhurt, and my whole band\nOf dauntless warriors with him, safe return!\n  Such prayer Achilles offer\u2019d, and his suit\nJove hearing, part confirm\u2019d, and part refused;\nTo chase the dreadful battle from the fleet305\nHe gave him, but vouchsafed him no return.\nPrayer and libation thus perform\u2019d to Jove\nThe Sire of all, Achilles to his tent\nReturn\u2019d, replaced the goblet in his chest,\nAnd anxious still that conflict to behold310\nBetween the hosts, stood forth before his tent.\n  Then rush\u2019d the bands by brave Patroclus led,\nFull on the Trojan host. As wasps forsake\nTheir home by the way-side, provoked by boys\nDisturbing inconsiderate their abode,315\nNot without nuisance sore to all who pass,\nFor if, thenceforth, some traveller unaware\nAnnoy them, issuing one and all they swarm\nAround him, fearless in their broods\u2019 defence,\nSo issued from their fleet the Myrmidons320\nUndaunted; clamor infinite arose,\nAnd thus Patroclus loud his host address\u2019d.\n  Oh Myrmidons, attendants in the field\nOn Peleus\u2019 son, now be ye men, my friends!\nCall now to mind the fury of your might;325\nThat we, close-fighting servants of the Chief\nMost excellent in all the camp of Greece,\nMay glory gain for him, and that the wide-\nCommanding Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nMay learn his fault, that he dishonor\u2019d foul330\nThe prince in whom Achaia glories most.\n  So saying he fired their hearts, and on the van\nOf Troy at once they fell; loud shouted all\nThe joyful Grecians, and the navy rang.\nThen, soon as Ilium\u2019s host the valiant son335\nSaw of Men\u0153tius and his charioteer\nIn dazzling armor clad, all courage lost,\nTheir closest ranks gave way, believing sure\nThat, wrath renounced, and terms of friendship chosen,\nAchilles\u2019 self was there; thus thinking, each340\nLook\u2019d every way for refuge from his fate.\n  Patroclus first, where thickest throng he saw\nGather\u2019d tumultuous around the bark\nOf brave Protesila\u00fcs, hurl\u2019d direct\nAt the whole multitude his glittering spear.345\nHe smote Pyr\u00e6chmes; he his horsemen band\nP\u0153onian led from Amydon, and from\nBroad-flowing Axius. In his shoulder stood\nThe spear, and with loud groans supine he fell.\nAt once fled all his followers, on all sides350\nWith consternation fill\u2019d, seeing their Chief\nAnd their best warrior, by Patroclus slain.\nForth from the fleet he drove them, quench\u2019d the flames,\nAnd rescued half the ship. Then scatter\u2019d fled\nWith infinite uproar the host of Troy,355\nWhile from between their ships the Dana\u00ef\nPour\u2019d after them, and hideous rout ensued.\nAs when the king of lightnings, Jove, dispels\nFrom some huge eminence a gloomy cloud,\nThe groves, the mountain-tops, the headland heights360\nShine all, illumined from the boundless heaven,\nSo when the Dana\u00ef those hostile fires\nHad from their fleet expell\u2019d, awhile they breathed,\nYet found short respite, for the battle yet\nCeased not, nor fled the Trojans in all parts365\nAlike, but still resisted, from the ships\nRetiring through necessity alone.\nThen, in that scatter\u2019d warfare, every Chief\nSlew one. While Are\u00eflochus his back\nTurn\u2019d on Patroclus, sudden with a lance370\nHis thigh he pierced, and urged the weapon through,\nShivering the bone; he headlong smote the ground.\nThe hero Menelaus, where he saw\nThe breast of Thoas by his slanting shield\nUnguarded, struck and stretch\u2019d him at his feet.375\nPhylides,[9] meeting with preventive spear\nThe furious onset of Amphiclus, gash\u2019d\nHis leg below the knee, where brawny most\nThe muscles swell in man; disparted wide\nThe tendons shrank, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.380\nThe two Nestorid\u00e6 slew each a Chief.\nOf these, Antilochus Atymnius pierced\nRight through his flank, and at his feet he fell.\nWith fierce resentment fired Maris beheld\nHis brother\u2019s fall, and guarding, spear in hand,385\nThe slain, impetuous on the conqueror flew;\nBut godlike Thrasymedes[10] wounded first\nMaris, ere he Antilochus; he pierced\nHis upper arm, and with the lance\u2019s point\nRent off and stript the muscles to the bone.390\nSounding he fell, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nThey thus, two brothers by two brothers slain,\nWent down to Erebus, associates both\nOf brave Sarpedon, and spear-practised sons\nOf Amisodarus; of him who fed395\nChim\u00e6ra,[11] monster, by whom many died.\nAjax the swift on Cleobulus sprang,\nWhom while he toil\u2019d entangled in the crowd,\nHe seized alive, but smote him where he stood\nWith his huge-hafted sword full on the neck;400\nThe blood warm\u2019d all his blade, and ruthless fate\nBenighted dark the dying warrior\u2019s eyes.\nPeneleus into close contention rush\u2019d\nAnd Lycon. Each had hurl\u2019d his glittering spear,\nBut each in vain, and now with swords they met.405\nHe smote Peneleus on the crested casque,\nBut snapp\u2019d his falchion; him Peneleus smote\nBeneath his ear; the whole blade entering sank\nInto his neck, and Lycon with his head\nDepending by the skin alone, expired.410\nMeriones o\u2019ertaking Acamas\nEre yet he could ascend his chariot, thrust\nA lance into his shoulder; down he fell\nIn dreary death\u2019s eternal darkness whelm\u2019d.\nIdomeneus his ruthless spear enforced415\nInto the mouth of Erymas. The point\nStay\u2019d not, but gliding close beneath the brain,\nTranspierced his spine,[12] and started forth beyond.\nIt wrench\u2019d his teeth, and fill\u2019d his eyes with blood;\nBlood also blowing through his open mouth420\nAnd nostrils, to the realms of death he pass\u2019d.\nThus slew these Grecian leaders, each, a foe.\n  Sudden as hungry wolves the kids purloin\nOr lambs, which haply some unheeding swain\nHath left to roam at large the mountains wild;425\nThey, seeing, snatch them from beside the dams,\nAnd rend incontinent the feeble prey,\nSo swift the Dana\u00ef the host assail\u2019d\nOf Ilium; they, into tumultuous flight\nTogether driven, all hope, all courage lost.430\n  Huge Ajax ceaseless sought his spear to cast\nAt Hector brazen-mail\u2019d, who, not untaught\nThe warrior\u2019s art, with bull-hide buckler stood\nSheltering his ample shoulders, while he mark\u2019d\nThe hiss of flying shafts and crash of spears.435\nFull sure he saw the shifting course of war\nNow turn\u2019d, but scorning flight, bent all his thoughts\nTo rescue yet the remnant of his friends.\n  As when the Thunderer spreads a sable storm\nO\u2019er ether, late serene, the cloud that wrapp\u2019d440\nOlympus\u2019 head escapes into the skies,\nSo fled the Trojans from the fleet of Greece\nClamoring in their flight, nor pass\u2019d the trench\nIn fair array; the coursers fleet indeed\nOf Hector, him bore safe with all his arms445\nRight through, but in the foss entangled foul\nHe left his host, and struggling to escape.\nThen many a chariot-whirling steed, the pole\nBroken at its extremity, forsook\nHis driver, while Patroclus with the shout450\nOf battle calling his Achaians on,\nDestruction purposed to the powers of Troy.\nThey, once dispersed, with clamor and with flight\nFill\u2019d all the ways, the dust beneath the clouds\nHung like a tempest, and the steeds firm-hoof\u2019d455\nWhirl\u2019d off at stretch the chariots to the town.\nHe, wheresoe\u2019er most troubled he perceived\nThe routed host, loud-threatening thither drove,\nWhile under his own axle many a Chief\nFell prone, and the o\u2019ertumbled chariots rang.460\nRight o\u2019er the hollow foss the coursers leap\u2019d\nImmortal, by the Gods to Peleus given,\nImpatient for the plain, nor less desire\nFelt he who drove to smite the Trojan Chief,\nBut him his fiery steeds caught swift away.465\n  As when a tempest from autumnal skies\nFloats all the fields, what time Jove heaviest pours\nImpetuous rain, token of wrath divine\nAgainst perverters of the laws by force,\nWho drive forth justice, reckless of the Gods;470\nThe rivers and the torrents, where they dwell,\nSweep many a green declivity away,\nAnd plunge at length, groaning, into the Deep\nFrom the hills headlong, leaving where they pass\u2019d\nNo traces of the pleasant works of man,475\nSo, in their flight, loud groan\u2019d the steeds of Troy.\nAnd now, their foremost intercepted all,\nPatroclus back again toward the fleet\nDrove them precipitate, nor the ascent\nPermitted them to Troy for which they strove,480\nBut in the midway space between the ships\nThe river and the lofty Trojan wall\nPursued them ardent, slaughtering whom he reached,\nAnd vengeance took for many a Grecian slain.\nFirst then, with glittering spear the breast he pierced485\nOf Pron\u00f6us, undefended by his shield,\nAnd stretch\u2019d him dead; loud rang his batter\u2019d arms.\nThe son of Enops, Thestor next he smote.\nHe on his chariot-seat magnificent\nLow-cowering sat, a fear-distracted form,490\nAnd from his palsied grasp the reins had fallen.\nThen came Patroclus nigh, and through his cheek\nHis teeth transpiercing, drew him by his lance\nSheer o\u2019er the chariot front. As when a man\nOn some projecting rock seated, with line495\nAnd splendid hook draws forth a sea-fish huge,\nSo him wide-gaping from his seat he drew\nAt his spear-point, then shook him to the ground\nProne on his face, where gasping he expired.\nAt Eryalus, next, advancing swift500\nHe hurl\u2019d a rock; full on the middle front\nHe smote him, and within the ponderous casque\nHis whole head open\u2019d into equal halves.\nWith deadliest night surrounded, prone he fell.\nEpaltes, Erymas, Amphoterus,505\nEchius, Tlepolemus Damastor\u2019s son,\nEvippus, Ipheus, Pyres, Polymelus,\nAll these he on the champain, corse on corse\nPromiscuous flung. Sarpedon, when he saw\nSuch havoc made of his uncinctured[13] friends510\nBy Men\u0153tiades, with sharp rebuke\nHis band of godlike Lycians loud address\u2019d.\n  Shame on you, Lycians! whither would ye fly?\nNow are ye swift indeed! I will oppose\nMyself this conqueror, that I may learn515\nWho thus afflicts the Trojan host, of life\nBereaving numerous of their warriors bold.\n  He said, and with his arms leap\u2019d to the ground.\nOn the other side, Patroclus at that sight\nSprang from his chariot. As two vultures clash520\nBow-beak\u2019d, crook-talon\u2019d, on some lofty rock\nClamoring both, so they together rush\u2019d\nWith clamors loud; whom when the son observed\nOf wily Saturn, with compassion moved\nHis sister and his spouse he thus bespake.525\n  Alas, he falls! my most beloved of men\nSarpedon, vanquished by Patroclus, falls!\nSo will the Fates. Yet, doubtful, much I muse\nWhether to place him, snatch\u2019d from furious fight\nIn Lycia\u2019s wealthy realm, or to permit530\nHis death by valiant Men\u0153tiades.\n  To whom his awful spouse, displeased, replied.\nHow speaks the terrible Saturnian Jove!\nWouldst thou again from pangs of death exempt\nA mortal man, destined long since to die?535\nDo it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven,\nMark thou my words, and in thy inmost breast\nTreasure them. If thou send Sarpedon safe\nTo his own home, how many Gods _their_ sons\nMay also send from battle? Weigh it well.540\nFor under yon great city fight no few\nSprung from Immortals whom thou shalt provoke.\nBut if thou love him, and thine heart his lot\nCommiserate, leave him by the hands to fall\nOf Men\u0153tiades in conflict dire;545\nBut give command to Death and gentle Sleep\nThat him of life bereft at once they bear\nTo Lycia\u2019s ample realm,[14] where, with due rites\nFunereal, his next kindred and his friends\nShall honor him, a pillar and a tomb550\n(The dead man\u2019s portion) rearing to his name.\n  She said, from whom the Sire of Gods and men\nDissented not, but on the earth distill\u2019d\nA sanguine shower in honor of a son\nDear to him, whom Patroclus on the field555\nOf fruitful Troy should slay, far from his home.\n  Opposite now, small interval between,\nThose heroes stood. Patroclus at his waist\nPierced Thrasymelus the illustrious friend\nOf King Sarpedon, and his charioteer.560\nSpear\u2019d through the lower bowels, dead he fell.\nThen hurl\u2019d Sarpedon in his turn a lance,\nBut miss\u2019d Patroclus and the shoulder pierced\nOf Pedasus the horse; he groaning heaved\nHis spirit forth, and fallen on the field565\nIn long loud moanings sorrowful expired.\nWide started the immortal pair; the yoke\nCreak\u2019d, and entanglement of reins ensued\nTo both, their fellow slaughter\u2019d at their side.\nThat mischief soon Automedon redress\u2019d.570\nHe rose, and from beside his sturdy thigh\nDrawing his falchion, with effectual stroke\nCut loose the side-horse; then the pair reduced\nTo order, in their traces stood composed,\nAnd the two heroes fierce engaged again.575\n  Again his radiant spear Sarpedon hurl\u2019d,\nBut miss\u2019d Patroclus; the innocuous point,\nO\u2019erflying his left shoulder, pass\u2019d beyond.\nThen with bright lance Patroclus in his turn\nAssail\u2019d Sarpedon, nor with erring course580\nThe weapon sped or vain, but pierced profound\nHis chest, enclosure of the guarded heart.\nAs falls an oak, poplar, or lofty pine\nWith new-edged axes on the mountains hewn\nRight through, for structure of some gallant bark,585\nSo fell Sarpedon stretch\u2019d his steeds before\nAnd gnash\u2019d his teeth and clutch\u2019d the bloody dust,\nAnd as a lion slays a tawny bull\nLeader magnanimous of all the herd;\nBeneath the lion\u2019s jaws groaning he dies;590\nSo, leader of the shielded Lycians groan\u2019d\nIndignant, by Patroclus slain, the bold\nSarpedon, and his friend thus, sad, bespake.\n  Glaucus, my friend, among these warring Chiefs\nThyself a Chief illustrious! thou hast need595\nOf all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,\nAnd, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,\nNow make the war\u2019s calamities thy joy.\nFirst, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse\nOur Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain,600\nThen haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend.\nFor shame and foul dishonor which no time\nShall e\u2019er obliterate, I must prove to thee,\nShould the Achaians of my glorious arms\nDespoil me in full prospect[15] of the fleet.605\nFight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight.\n  He said, and cover\u2019d by the night of death,\nNor look\u2019d nor breath\u2019d again; for on his chest\nImplanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew\nThe spear enfolded with his vitals forth,610\nWeapon and life at once. Meantime his steeds\nSnorted, by Myrmidons detain\u2019d, and, loosed\nFrom their own master\u2019s chariot, foam\u2019d to fly.\nTerrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,\nHearing that charge, and troubled was his heart615\nThat all power fail\u2019d him to protect the dead.\nCompressing his own arm he stood, with pain\nExtreme tormented which the shaft had caused\nOf Teucer, who while Glaucus climb\u2019d the wall,\nHad pierced him from it, in the fleet\u2019s defence.620\nThen, thus, to Ph\u0153bus, King shaft-arm\u2019d, he pray\u2019d.\n  Hear now, O King! For whether in the land\nOf wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,\nThou hear\u2019st in every place alike the prayer\nOf the afflicted heart, and such is mine;625\nBehold my wound; it fills my useless hand\nWith anguish, neither can my blood be stay\u2019d,\nAnd all my shoulder suffers. I can grasp\nA spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks\nNo longer now; and we have also lost630\nOur noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,\nWho guards not his own son. But thou, O King!\nHeal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,\nThat I may animate the Lycian host\nTo fight, and may, myself, defend the dead!635\n  Such prayer he offer\u2019d, whom Apollo heard;\nHe eased at once his pain, the sable blood\nStaunch\u2019d, and his soul with vigor new inspired.\nThen Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived\nGranted, and joyful for the sudden aid640\nVouchsafed to him by Ph\u0153bus, first the lines\nOf Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief\nTo fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next\nWith eager haste into the ranks of Troy,\nRenown\u2019d Agenor and the son he call\u2019d645\nOf Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom\n\u00c6neas also, and approaching last\nTo Hector brazen-mail\u2019d him thus bespake.\n  Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign\u2019d\nAll care of thy allies, who, for thy sake,650\nLost both to friends and country, on these plains\nPerish, unaided and unmiss\u2019d by thee.\nSarpedon breathless lies, who led to fight\nOur shielded bands, and from whose just control\nAnd courage Lycia drew her chief defence.655\nHim brazen Mars hath by the spear subdued\nOf Men\u0153tiades. But stand ye firm!\nLet indignation fire you, O my friends!\nLest, stripping him of his resplendent arms,\nThe Myrmidons with foul dishonor shame660\nHis body, through resentment of the deaths\nOf numerous Grecians slain by spears of ours.\n  He ceased; then sorrow every Trojan heart\nSeized insupportable and that disdain\u2019d\nAll bounds, for that, although a stranger born,665\nSarpedon ever had a bulwark proved\nTo Troy, the leader of a numerous host,\nAnd of that host by none in fight excell\u2019d.\nRight on toward the Dana\u00ef they moved\nArdent for battle all, and at their head670\nEnraged for slain Sarpedon, Hector came.\nMeantime, stout-hearted[16] Chief, Patroclus roused\nThe Grecians, and exhorting first (themselves\nAlready prompt) the Ajaces, thus began.\n  Heroic pair! now make it all your joy675\nTo chase the Trojan host, and such to prove\nAs erst, or even bolder, if ye may.\nThe Chief lies breathless who ascended first\nOur wall, Sarpedon. Let us bear him hence,\nStrip and dishonor him, and in the blood680\nOf his protectors drench the ruthless spear.\n  So Men\u0153tiades his warriors urged,\nThemselves courageous. Then the Lycian host\nAnd Trojan here, and there the Myrmidons\nWith all the host of Greece, closing the ranks685\nRush\u2019d into furious contest for the dead,\nShouting tremendous; clang\u2019d their brazen arms,\nAnd Jove with Night\u2019s pernicious shades[17] o\u2019erhung\nThe bloody field, so to enhance the more\nTheir toilsome strife for his own son. First then690\nThe Trojans from their place and order shock\u2019d\nThe bright-eyed Grecians, slaying not the least\nNor worst among the Myrmidons, the brave\nEpigeus from renown\u2019d Agacles sprung.\nHe, erst, in populous Budeum ruled,695\nBut for a valiant kinsman of his own\nWhom there he slew, had thence to Peleus fled\nAnd to his silver-footed spouse divine,\nWho with Achilles, phalanx-breaker Chief,\nSent him to fight beneath the walls of Troy.700\nHim seizing fast the body, with a stone\nIllustrious Hector smote full on the front,\nAnd his whole skull within the ponderous casque\nSplit sheer; he prostrate on the body fell\nIn shades of soul-divorcing death involved.705\nPatroclus, grieving for his slaughter\u2019d friend,\nRush\u2019d through the foremost warriors. As the hawk\nSwift-wing\u2019d before him starlings drives or daws,\nSo thou, Patroclus, of equestrian fame!\nFull on the Lycian ranks and Trojan drov\u2019st,710\nResentful of thy fellow-warrior\u2019s fall.\nAt Sthenela\u00fcs a huge stone he cast,\nSon of Ith\u00e6menes, whom on the neck\nHe smote and burst the tendons; then the van\nOf Ilium\u2019s host, with Hector, all retired.715\nFar as the slender javelin cuts the air\nHurl\u2019d with collected force, or in the games,\nOr even in battle at a desperate foe,\nSo far the Greeks repulsed the host of Troy.\nThen Glaucus first, Chief of the shielded bands720\nOf Lycia, slew Bathycles, valiant son\nOf Calchon; Hellas was his home, and far\nHe pass\u2019d in riches all the Myrmidons.\nHim chasing Glaucus whom he now attain\u2019d,\nThe Lycian, turning sudden, with his lance725\nPierced through the breast, and, sounding, down he fell\nGrief fill\u2019d Achaia\u2019s sons for such a Chief\nSo slain, but joy the Trojans; thick they throng\u2019d\nThe conqueror around, nor yet the Greeks\nForgat their force, but resolute advanced.730\nThen, by Meriones a Trojan died\nOf noble rank, Laogonus, the son\nUndaunted of Onetor great in Troy,\nPriest of Id\u00e6an Jove. The ear and jaw\nBetween, he pierced him with a mortal force;735\nSwift flew the life, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\n\u00c6neas, in return, his brazen spear\nHurl\u2019d at Meriones with ardent hope\nTo pierce him, while, with nimble[18] steps and short\nBehind his buckler made, he paced the field;740\nBut, warn\u2019d of its approach, Meriones\nBow\u2019d low his head, shunning it, and the spear\nBehind him pierced the soil; there quivering stood\nThe weapon, vain, though from a vigorous arm,\nTill spent by slow degrees its fury slept.745\n       *       *       *       *       *\n       *       *       *       *       *[19]\nIndignant then \u00c6neas thus exclaim\u2019d.\n\n  Meriones! I sent thee such a spear\nAs reaching thee, should have for ever marr\u2019d750\nThy step, accomplish\u2019d dancer as thou art.\n  To whom Meriones spear-famed replied.\n\u00c6neas! thou wilt find the labor hard\nHow great soe\u2019er thy might, to quell the force\nOf all opposers. Thou art also doom\u2019d755\nThyself to die; and may but spear of mine\nWell-aim\u2019d once strike thee full, what strength soe\u2019er\nOr magnanimity be thine to boast,\nThy glory in that moment thou resign\u2019st\nTo me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown\u2019d.760\n  He said, but him Patroclus sharp reproved.\nWhy speaks Meriones, although in fight\nApproved, thus proudly? Nay, my gallant friend!\nThe Trojans will not for reproach of ours\nRenounce the body. Blood must first be spilt.765\nTongues in debate, but hands in war decide;\nDeeds therefore now, not wordy vaunts, we need.\n  So saying he led the way, whom follow\u2019d close\nGodlike Meriones. As from the depth\nOf some lone wood that clothes the mountain\u2019s side770\nThe fellers at their toil are heard remote,\nSo, from the face of Ilium\u2019s ample plain\nReverberated, was the din of brass\nAnd of tough targets heard by falchions huge\nHard-smitten, and by spears of double-edge.775\nNone then, no, not the quickest to discern,\nHad known divine Sarpedon, from his head\nTo his foot-sole with mingled blood and dust\nPolluted, and o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with weapons. They\nAround the body swarm\u2019d. As hovel-flies780\nIn spring-time buzz around the brimming pails\nWith milk bedew\u2019d, so they around the dead.\nNor Jove averted once his glorious eyes\nFrom that dread contest, but with watchful note\nMarked all, the future death in battle deep785\nPondering of Patroclus, whether him\nHector should even now slay on divine\nSarpedon, and despoil him of his arms,\nOr he should still that arduous strife prolong.\nThis counsel gain\u2019d as eligible most790\nAt length his preference: that the valiant friend\nOf Peleus\u2019 son should yet again compel\nThe Trojan host with Hector brazen-mail\u2019d\nTo Ilium, slaughtering numerous by the way.\nFirst then, with fears unmanly he possess\u2019d795\nThe heart of Hector; mounting to his seat\nHe turn\u2019d to flight himself, and bade his host\nFly also; for he knew Jove\u2019s purpose[20] changed.\nThenceforth, no longer even Lycia\u2019s host\nEndured, but all fled scatter\u2019d, seeing pierced800\nTheir sovereign through his heart, and heap\u2019d with dead;\nFor numerous, while Saturnian Jove the fight\nHeld in suspense, had on his body fallen.\nAt once the Grecians of his dazzling arms\nDespoil\u2019d Sarpedon, which the Myrmidons805\nBy order of Men\u0153tius\u2019 valiant son\nBore thence into the fleet. Meantime his will\nThe Thunderer to Apollo thus express\u2019d.\n  Ph\u0153bus, my son, delay not; from beneath\nYon hill of weapons drawn cleanse from his blood810\nSarpedon\u2019s corse; then, bearing him remote,\nLave him in waters of the running stream,\nWith oils divine anoint, and in attire\nImmortal clothe him. Last, to Death and Sleep,\nSwift bearers both, twin-born, deliver him;815\nFor hence to Lycia\u2019s opulent abodes\nThey shall transport him quickly, where, with rites\nFunereal, his next kindred and his friends\nShall honor him, a pillar and a tomb\n(The dead man\u2019s portion) rearing to his name.820\n  He ceased; nor was Apollo slow to hear\nHis father\u2019s will, but, from the Id\u00e6an heights\nDescending swift into the dreadful field,\nGodlike Sarpedon\u2019s body from beneath\nThe hill of weapons drew, which, borne remote,825\nHe laved in waters of the running stream,\nWith oils ambrosial bathed, and clothed in robes\nImmortal. Then to Death and gentle Sleep,\nSwift-bearers both, twin-born, he gave the charge,\nWho placed it soon in Lycia\u2019s wealthy realm.830\n  Meantime Patroclus, calling to his steeds,\nAnd to Automedon, the Trojans chased\nAnd Lycians, on his own destruction bent\nInfatuate; heedless of his charge received\nFrom Peleus\u2019 son, which, well perform\u2019d, had saved835\nThe hero from his miserable doom.\nBut Jove\u2019s high purpose evermore prevails\nAgainst the thoughts of man; he turns to flight\nThe bravest, and the victory takes with ease\nE\u2019en from the Chief whom he impels himself840\nTo battle, as he now this Chief impell\u2019d.\nWho, then, Patroclus! first, who last by thee\nFell slain, what time thyself was call\u2019d to die?\nAdrastus first, then Perimus he slew,\nOffspring of Megas, then Autono\u00fcs,845\nEchechlus, Melanippus, and Epistor,\nPylartes, Mulius, Elasus. All these\nHe slew, and from the field chased all beside.\nThen, doubtless, had Achaia\u2019s sons prevail\u2019d\nTo take proud-gated Troy, such havoc made850\nHe with his spear, but that the son of Jove\nApollo, on a tower\u2019s conspicuous height\nStation\u2019d, devoted him for Ilium\u2019s sake.\nThrice on a buttress of the lofty wall\nPatroclus mounted, and him thrice the God855\nWith hands immortal his resplendent shield\nSmiting, struck down again; but when he rush\u2019d\nA fourth time, demon-like, to the assault,\nThe King of radiant shafts him, stern, rebuked.\n  Patroclus, warrior of renown, retire!860\nThe fates ordain not that imperial Troy\nStoop to thy spear, nor to the spear itself\nOf Peleus\u2019 son, though mightier far than thou.\n  He said, and Men\u0153tiades the wrath\nOf shaft-arm\u2019d Ph\u0153bus shunning, far retired.865\nBut in the Sc\u00e6an gate Hector his steeds\nDetain\u2019d, uncertain whether thence to drive\nAmid the warring multitude again,\nOr, loud commandment issuing, to collect\nHis host within the walls. Him musing long870\nApollo, clad in semblance of a Chief\nYouthful and valiant, join\u2019d. Asius he seem\u2019d\nEquestrian Hector\u2019s uncle, brother born\nOf Hecuba the queen, and Dymas\u2019 son,\nWho on the Sangar\u2019s banks in Phrygia dwelt.875\nApollo, so disguised, him thus bespake.\n  Why, Hector, hast thou left the fight? this sloth\nNot well befits thee. Oh that I as far\nThee pass\u2019d in force as thou transcendest me,\nThen, not unpunish\u2019d long, should\u2019st thou retire;880\nBut haste, and with thy coursers solid-hoof\u2019d\nSeek out Patroclus, him perchance to slay,\nShould Ph\u0153bus have decreed that glory thine.\n  So saying, Apollo join\u2019d the host again.\nThen noble Hector bade his charioteer885\nValiant Cebriones his coursers lash\nBack into battle, while the God himself\nEntering the multitude confounded sore\nThe Argives, victory conferring proud\nAnd glory on Hector and the host of Troy.890\nBut Hector, leaving all beside unslain,\nFurious impell\u2019d his coursers solid-hoof\u2019d\nAgainst Patroclus; on the other side\nPatroclus from his chariot to the ground\nLeap\u2019d ardent; in his left a spear he bore,895\nAnd in his right a marble fragment rough,\nLarge as his grasp. With full collected might\nHe hurl\u2019d it; neither was the weapon slow\nTo whom he had mark\u2019d, or sent in vain.\nHe smote the charioteer of Hector, bold900\nCebriones, King Priam\u2019s spurious son,\nFull on the forehead, while he sway\u2019d the reins.\nThe bone that force withstood not, but the rock\nWith ragged points beset dash\u2019d both his brows\nIn pieces, and his eyes fell at his feet.905\nHe diver-like, from his exalted stand\nBehind the steeds pitch\u2019d headlong, and expired;\nO\u2019er whom, Patroclus of equestrian fame!\nThou didst exult with taunting speech severe.\n  Ye Gods, with what agility he dives!910\nAh! it were well if in the fishy deep\nThis man were occupied; he might no few\nWith oysters satisfy, although the waves\nWere churlish, plunging headlong from his bark\nAs easily as from his chariot here.915\nSo then\u2014in Troy, it seems, are divers too!\n  So saying, on bold Cebriones he sprang\nWith all a lion\u2019s force, who, while the folds\nHe ravages, is wounded in the breast,\nAnd, victim of his own fierce courage, dies.920\nSo didst thou spring, Patroclus! to despoil\nCebriones, and Hector opposite\nLeap\u2019d also to the ground. Then contest such\nFor dead Cebriones those two between\nArose, as in the lofty mountain-tops925\nTwo lions wage, contending for a deer\nNew-slain, both hunger-pinch\u2019d and haughty both.\nSo for Cebriones, alike in arms\nExpert, brave Hector and Patroclus strove\nTo pierce each other with the ruthless spear.930\nFirst, Hector seized his head, nor loosed his hold,\nPatroclus, next, his feet, while all beside\nOf either host in furious battle join\u2019d.\n  As when the East wind and the South contend\nTo shake some deep wood on the mountain\u2019s side,935\nOr beech, or ash, or rugged cornel old.\nWith stormy violence the mingled boughs\nSmite and snap short each other, crashing loud;\nSo, Trojans and Achaians, mingling, slew\nMutual, while neither felt a wish to fly.940\nAround Cebriones stood many a spear,\nAnd many a shaft sent smartly from the nerve\nImplanted deep, and many a stone of grasp\nEnormous sounded on their batter\u2019d shields\nWho fought to gain him. He, in eddies lost945\nOf sable dust, with his huge trunk huge space\nO\u2019erspread, nor steeds nor chariots heeded more.\n  While yet the sun ascending climb\u2019d the heavens,\nTheir darts flew equal, and the people fell;\nBut when he westward journey\u2019d, by a change950\nSurpassing hope the Grecians then prevail\u2019d.\nThey drew Cebriones the hero forth\nFrom all those weapons, and his armor stripp\u2019d\nAt leisure, distant from the battle\u2019s roar.\nThen sprang Patroclus on the Trojan host;955\nThrice, like another Mars, he sprang with shouts\nTremendous, and nine warriors thrice he slew.\nBut when the fourth time, demon-like, he rush\u2019d\nAgainst them, then, oh then, too manifest\nThe consummation of thy days approach\u2019d960\nPatroclus! whom Apollo, terror-clad\nMet then in battle. He the coming God\nThrough all that multitude knew not, such gloom\nImpenetrable him involved around.\nBehind him close he stood, and with his palms965\nExpanded on the spine and shoulders broad\nSmote him; his eyes swam dizzy at the stroke.\nThen Ph\u0153bus from his head his helmet dash\u2019d\nTo earth; sonorous at the feet it roll\u2019d\nOf many a prancing steed, and all the crest970\nDefilement gather\u2019d gross of dust and blood,\nThen first; till then, impossible; for how\nShould dust the tresses of that helmet shame\nWith which Achilles fighting fenced his head\nIllustrious, and his graceful brows divine?975\nBut Jove now made it Hector\u2019s; he awhile\nBore it, himself to swift perdition doom\u2019d\nHis spear brass-mounted, ponderous, huge and long,\nFell shiver\u2019d from his grasp. His shield that swept\nHis ancle, with its belt dropp\u2019d from his arm,980\nAnd Ph\u0153bus loosed the corselet from his breast.\nConfusion seized his brain; his noble limbs\nQuaked under him, and panic-stunn\u2019d he stood.\nThen came a Dardan Chief, who from behind\nEnforced a pointed lance into his back985\nBetween the shoulders; Panthus\u2019 son was he,\nEuphorbus, famous for equestrian skill,\nFor spearmanship, and in the rapid race\nPast all of equal age. He twenty men\n(Although a learner yet of martial feats,990\nAnd by his steeds then first to battle borne)\nDismounted. He, Patroclus, mighty Chief!\nFirst threw a lance at thee, which yet life\nQuell\u2019d not; then snatching hasty from the wound\nHis ashen beam, he ran into the crowd,995\nNor dared confront in fight even the unarm\u2019d\nPatroclus. But Patroclus, by the lance,\nAnd by the stroke of an immortal hand\nSubdued, fell back toward his ranks again.\nThen, soon as Hector the retreat perceived1000\nOf brave Patroclus wounded, issuing forth\nFrom his own phalanx, he approach\u2019d and drove\nA spear right through his body at the waist.\nSounding he fell. Loud groan\u2019d Achaia\u2019s host.\nAs when the lion and the sturdy boar1005\nContend in battle on the mountain-tops\nFor some scant rivulet, thirst-parch\u2019d alike,\nEre long the lion quells the panting boar;\nSo Priameian Hector, spear in hand,\nSlew Men\u0153tiades the valiant slayer1010\nOf multitudes, and thus in accents wing\u2019d,\nWith fierce delight exulted in his fall.\n\n  It was thy thought, Patroclus, to have laid\nOur city waste, and to have wafted hence\nOur wives and daughters to thy native land,1015\nTheir day of liberty for ever set.\nFool! for their sakes the feet of Hector\u2019s steeds\nFly into battle, and myself excel,\nFor their sakes, all our bravest of the spear,\nThat I may turn from them that evil hour1020\nNecessitous. But thou art vulture\u2019s food,\nUnhappy youth! all valiant as he is,\nAchilles hath no succor given to thee,\nWho when he sent the forth whither himself\nWould not, thus doubtless gave thee oft in charge:1025\nAh, well beware, Patroclus, glorious Chief!\nThat thou revisit not these ships again,\nTill first on hero-slaughterer Hector\u2019s breast\nThou cleave his bloody corselet. So he spake,\nAnd with vain words thee credulous beguiled.1030\n  To whom Patroclus, mighty Chief, with breath\nDrawn faintly, and dying, thou didst thus reply.\nNow, Hector, boast! now glory! for the son\nOf Saturn and Apollo, me with ease\nVanquishing, whom they had themselves disarm\u2019d,1035\nHave made the victory thine; else, twenty such\nAs thou, had fallen by my victorious spear.\nMe Ph\u0153bus and my ruthless fate combined\nTo slay; these foremost; but of mortal men\nEuphorbus, and thy praise is only third.1040\nI tell thee also, and within thy heart\nRepose it deep\u2014thou shalt not long survive;\nBut, even now, fate, and a violent death\nAttend thee by Achilles\u2019 hands ordain\u2019d\nTo perish, by \u00c6acides the brave.[21]1045\n  So saying, the shades of death him wrapp\u2019d around.\nDown into Ades from his limbs dismiss\u2019d,\nHis spirit fled sorrowful, of youth\u2019s prime\nAnd vigorous manhood suddenly bereft\nThen, him though dead, Hector again bespake.1050\n  Patroclus! these prophetic strains of death\nAt hand, and fate, why hast thou sung to me?\nMay not the son of Thetis azure-hair\u2019d,\nAchilles, perish first by spear of mine?\n  He said; then pressing with his heel the trunk1055\nSupine, and backward thursting it, he drew\nHis glittering weapon from the wound, nor stay\u2019d,\nBut lance in hand, the godlike charioteer\nPursued of swift \u00c6acides, on fire\nTo smite Automedon; but him the steeds1060\nImmortal, rapid, by the Gods conferr\u2019d\n(A glorious gift) on Peleus, snatch\u2019d away.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XVII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK.\n\nSharp contest ensues around the body of Patroclus. Hector puts on the\narmor of Achilles. Menelaus, having dispatched Antilochus to Achilles\nwith news of the death of Patroclus, returns to the battle, and,\ntogether with Meriones, bears Patroclus off the field, while the Ajaces\ncover their retreat.\n\n\nBOOK XVII.\n\n\nNor Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 valiant son,\nKnew not how Men\u0153tiades had fallen\nBy Trojan hands in battle; forth he rush\u2019d\nAll bright in burnish\u2019d armor through his van,\nAnd as some heifer with maternal fears5\nNow first acquainted, compasses around\nHer young one murmuring, with tender moan,\nSo moved the hero of the amber locks\nAround Patroclus, before whom his spear\nAdvancing and broad shield, he death denounced10\nOn all opposers; neither stood the son\nSpear-famed of Panthus inattentive long\nTo slain Patroclus, but approach\u2019d the dead,\nAnd warlike Menelaus thus bespake.\n  Prince! Menelaus! Atreus\u2019 mighty son!15\nYield. Leave the body and these gory spoils;\nFor of the Trojans or allies of Troy\nNone sooner made Patroclus bleed than I.\nSeek not to rob me, therefore, of my praise\nAmong the Trojans, lest my spear assail20\nThee also, and thou perish premature.[1]\n  To whom, indignant, Atreus\u2019 son replied.\nSelf-praise, the Gods do know, is little worth.\nBut neither lion may in pride compare\nNor panther, nor the savage boar whose heart\u2019s25\nHigh temper flashes in his eyes, with these\nThe spear accomplish\u2019d youths of Panthus\u2019 house.\nYet Hyperenor of equestrian fame\nLived not his lusty manhood to enjoy,\nWho scoffingly defied my force in arms,30\nAnd call\u2019d me most contemptible in fight\nOf all the Dana\u00ef. But him, I ween,\nHis feet bore never hence to cheer at home\nHis wife and parents with his glad return.\nSo also shall thy courage fierce be tamed,35\nIf thou oppose me. I command thee, go\u2014\nMix with the multitude; withstand not me,\nLest evil overtake thee! To be taught\nBy sufferings only, is the part of fools.\n  He said, but him sway\u2019d not, who thus replied.40\nNow, even now, Atrides! thou shalt rue\nMy brother\u2019s blood which thou hast shed, and mak\u2019st\nHis death thy boast. Thou hast his blooming bride\nWidow\u2019d, and thou hast fill\u2019d his parents\u2019 hearts\nWith anguish of unutterable wo;45\nBut bearing hence thy armor and thy head\nTo Troy, and casting them at Panthus\u2019 feet,\nAnd at the feet of Phrontis, his espoused,\nI shall console the miserable pair.\nNor will I leave that service unessay\u2019d50\nLonger, nor will I fail through want of force,\nOf courage, or of terrible address.\n  He ceased, and smote his shield, nor pierced the disk,\nBut bent his point against the stubborn brass.\nThen Menelaus, prayer preferring first55\nTo Jove,[2] assail\u2019d Euphorbus in his turn,\nWhom pacing backward in the throat he struck,\nAnd both hands and his full force the spear\nImpelled, urged it through his neck behind.\nSounding he fell; loud rang his batter\u2019d arms.60\nHis locks, which even the Graces might have own\u2019d,\nBlood-sullied, and his ringlets wound about\nWith twine of gold and silver, swept the dust.\nAs the luxuriant olive by a swain\nRear\u2019d in some solitude where rills abound,65\nPuts forth her buds, and fann\u2019d by genial airs\nOn all sides, hangs her boughs with whitest flowers,\nBut by a sudden whirlwind from its trench\nUptorn, it lies extended on the field;\nSuch, Panthus\u2019 warlike son Euphorbus seem\u2019d,70\nBy Menelaus, son of Atreus, slain\nSuddenly, and of all his arms despoil\u2019d.\nBut as the lion on the mountains bred,\nGlorious in strength, when he hath seized the best\nAnd fairest of the herd, with savage fangs75\nFirst breaks her neck, then laps the bloody paunch\nTorn wide; meantime, around him, but remote,\nDogs stand and swains clamoring, yet by fear\nRepress\u2019d, annoy him not nor dare approach;\nSo there all wanted courage to oppose80\nThe force of Menelaus, glorious Chief.\nThen, easily had Menelaus borne\nThe armor of the son of Panthus thence,\nBut that Apollo the illustrious prize\nDenied him, who in semblance of the Chief85\nOf the Ciconians, Mentes, prompted forth\nAgainst him Hector terrible as Mars,\nWhose spirit thus in accents wing\u2019d he roused.\n  Hector! the chase is vain; here thou pursuest\nThe horses of \u00c6acides the brave,90\nWhich thou shalt never win, for they are steeds\nOf fiery nature, such as ill endure\nTo draw or carry mortal man, himself\nExcept, whom an immortal mother bore.\nMeantime, bold Menelaus, in defence95\nOf dead Patroclus, hath a Trojan slain\nOf highest note, Euphorbus, Panthus\u2019 son,\nAnd hath his might in arms for ever quell\u2019d.\n  So spake the God and to the fight return\u2019d.\nBut grief intolerable at that word100\nSeized Hector; darting through the ranks his eye,\nHe knew at once who stripp\u2019d Euphorbus\u2019 arms,\nAnd him knew also lying on the field,\nAnd from his wide wound bleeding copious still.\nThen dazzling bright in arms, through all the van105\nHe flew, shrill-shouting, fierce as Vulcan\u2019s fire\nUnquenchable; nor were his shouts unheard\nBy Atreus\u2019 son, who with his noble mind\nConferring sad, thus to himself began.\n  Alas! if I forsake these gorgeous spoils,110\nAnd leave Patroclus for my glory slain,\nI fear lest the Achaians at that sight\nIncensed, reproach me; and if, urged by shame,\nI fight with Hector and his host, alone,\nLest, hemm\u2019d around by multitudes, I fall;115\nFor Hector, by his whole embattled force\nAttended, comes. But whither tend my thoughts?\nNo man may combat with another fenced\nBy power divine and whom the Gods exalt,\nBut he must draw down wo on his own head.120\nMe, therefore, none of all Achaia\u2019s host\nWill blame indignant, seeing my retreat\nFrom Hector, whom themselves the Gods assist.\nBut might the battle-shout of Ajax once\nReach me, with force united we would strive,125\nEven in opposition to a God,\nTo rescue for Achilles\u2019 sake, his friend.\nTask arduous! but less arduous than this.\n  While he thus meditated, swift advanced\nThe Trojan ranks, with Hector at their head.130\nHe then, retiring slow, and turning oft,\nForsook the body. As by dogs and swains\nWith clamors loud and spears driven from the stalls\nA bearded lion goes, his noble heart\nAbhors retreat, and slow he quits the prey;135\nSo Menelaus with slow steps forsook\nPatroclus, and arrived in front, at length,\nOf his own phalanx, stood, with sharpen\u2019d eyes\nSeeking vast Ajax, son of Telamon.\nHim leftward, soon, of all the field he mark\u2019d140\nEncouraging aloud his band, whose hearts\nWith terrors irresistible himself\nPh\u0153bus had fill\u2019d. He ran, and at his side\nStanding, incontinent him thus bespake.\n  My gallant Ajax, haste\u2014come quickly\u2014strive145\nWith me to rescue for Achilles\u2019 sake\nHis friend, though bare, for Hector hath his arms.\n  He said, and by his words the noble mind\nOf Ajax roused; issuing through the van\nHe went, and Menelaus at his side.150\nHector the body of Patroclus dragg\u2019d,\nStript of his arms, with falchion keen erelong\nPurposing to strike off his head, and cast\nHis trunk, drawn distant, to the dogs of Troy.\nBut Ajax, with broad shield tower-like, approach\u2019d.155\nThen Hector, to his bands retreating, sprang\nInto his chariot, and to others gave\nThe splendid arms in charge, who into Troy\nShould bear the destined trophy of his praise,\nBut Ajax with his broad shield guarding stood160\nSlain Men\u0153tiades, as for his whelps\nThe lion stands; him through some forest drear\nLeading his little ones, the hunters meet;\nFire glimmers in his looks, and down he draws\nHis whole brow into frowns, covering his eyes;165\nSo, guarding slain Patroclus, Ajax lour\u2019d.\nOn the other side, with tender grief oppress\u2019d\nUnspeakable, brave Menelaus stood.\nBut Glaucus, leader of the Lycian band,\nSon of Hippolochus, in bitter terms170\nIndignant, reprimanded Hector thus,\n  Ah, Hector, Chieftain of excelling form,\nBut all unfurnish\u2019d with a warrior\u2019s heart!\nUnwarranted I deem thy great renown\nWho art to flight addicted. Think, henceforth,175\nHow ye shall save city and citadel\nThou and thy people born in Troy, alone.\nNo Lycian shall, at least, in your defence\nFight with the Grecians, for our ceaseless toil\nIn arms, hath ever been a thankless task.180\nInglorious Chief! how wilt thou save a worse\nFrom warring crowds, who hast Sarpedon left\nThy guest, thy friend, to be a spoil, a prey\nTo yonder Argives? While he lived he much\nThee and thy city profited, whom dead185\nThou fear\u2019st to rescue even from the dogs.\nNow, therefore, may but my advice prevail,\nBack to your country, Lycians! so, at once,\nShall remediless ruin fall on Troy.\nFor had the Trojans now a daring heart190\nIntrepid, such as in the breast resides\nOf laborers in their country\u2019s dear behalf,\nWe soon should drag Patroclus into Troy;\nAnd were his body, from the battle drawn,\nIn Priam\u2019s royal city once secured,195\nAs soon, the Argives would in ransom give\nSarpedon\u2019s body with his splendid arms\nTo be conducted safe into the town.\nFor when Patroclus fell, the friend was slain\nOf such a Chief as is not in the fleet200\nFor valor, and his bands are dauntless all.\nBut thou, at the first glimpse of Ajax\u2019 eye\nConfounded, hast not dared in arms to face\nThat warrior bold, superior far to thee.\n  To whom brave Hector, frowning stern, replied,205\nWhy, Glaucus! should a Chief like thee his tongue\nPresume to employ thus haughtily? My friend!\nI thee accounted wisest, once, of all\nWho dwell in fruitful Lycia, but thy speech\nNow utter\u2019d altogether merits blame,210\nIn which thou tell\u2019st me that I fear to stand\nAgainst vast Ajax. Know that I from fight\nShrink not, nor yet from sound of prancing steeds;\nBut Jove\u2019s high purpose evermore prevails\nAgainst the thoughts of man; he turns to flight215\nThe bravest, and the victory takes with ease\nEven from those whom once he favor\u2019d most.\nBut hither, friend! stand with me; mark my deed;\nProve me, if I be found, as thou hast said,\nAn idler all the day, or if by force220\nI not compel some Grecian to renounce\nPatroclus, even the boldest of them all.\n  He ceased, and to his host exclaim\u2019d aloud.\nTrojans, and Lycians, and close-fighting sons\nOf Dardanus, oh be ye men, my friends!225\nNow summon all your fortitude, while I\nPut on the armor of Achilles, won\nFrom the renown\u2019d Patroclus slain by me.\n  So saying, illustrious Hector from the clash\nOf spears withdrew, and with his swiftest pace230\nDeparting, overtook, not far remote,\nThe bearers of Achilles\u2019 arms to Troy.\nApart from all the horrors of the field\nStanding, he changed his armor; gave his own\nTo be by them to sacred Ilium borne,235\nAnd the immortal arms of Peleus\u2019 son\nAchilles, by the ever-living Gods\nTo Pele\u00fcs given, put on. Those arms the Sire,\nNow old himself, had on his son conferr\u2019d\nBut in those arms his son grew never old.240\n  Him, therefore, soon as cloud-assembler Jove\nSaw glittering in divine Achilles\u2019 arms,\nContemplative he shook his brows, and said,\n  Ah hapless Chief! thy death, although at hand,\nNought troubles thee. Thou wear\u2019st his heavenly245\nWho all excels, terror of Ilium\u2019s host.\nHis friend, though bold yet gentle, thou hast slain\nAnd hast the brows and bosom of the dead\nUnseemly bared: yet, bright success awhile\nI give thee; so compensating thy lot,250\nFrom whom Andromache shall ne\u2019er receive\nThose glorious arms, for thou shalt ne\u2019er return.\n  So spake the Thunderer, and his sable brows\nShaking, confirm\u2019d the word. But Hector found\nThe armor apt; the God of war his soul255\nWith fury fill\u2019d, he felt his limbs afresh\nInvigorated, and with loudest shouts\nReturn\u2019d to his illustrious allies.\nTo them he seem\u2019d, clad in those radiant arms,\nHimself Achilles; rank by rank he pass\u2019d260\nThrough all the host, exhorting every Chief,\nAsterop\u00e6us, Mesthles, Phorcys, Medon,\nThersilochus, Deisenor, augur Ennomus,\nChromius, Hippotho\u00fcs; all these he roused\nTo battle, and in accents wing\u2019d began.265\n  Hear me, ye myriads, neighbors and allies!\nFor not through fond desire to fill the plain\nWith multitudes, have I convened you here\nEach from his city, but that well-inclined\nTo Ilium, ye might help to guard our wives270\nAnd little ones against the host of Greece.\nTherefore it is that forage large and gifts\nProviding for you, I exhaust the stores\nOf Troy, and drain our people for your sake.\nTurn then direct against them, and his life275\nSave each, or lose; it is the course of war.\nHim who shall drag, though dead, Patroclus home\nInto the host of Troy, and shall repulse\nAjax, I will reward with half the spoils\nAnd half shall be my own; glory and praise280\nShall also be his meed, equal to mine.\n  He ended; they compact with lifted spears\nBore on the Dana\u00ef, conceiving each\nWarm expectation in his heart to wrest\nFrom Ajax son of Telamon, the dead.285\nVain hope! he many a lifeless Trojan heap\u2019d\nOn slain Patroclus, but at length his speech\nTo warlike Menelaus thus address\u2019d.\n  Ah, Menelaus, valiant friend! I hope\nNo longer, now, that even we shall \u2019scape290\nOurselves from fight; nor fear I so the loss\nOf dead Patroclus, who shall soon the dogs\nOf Ilium, and the fowls sate with his flesh,\nAs for my life I tremble and for thine,\nThat cloud of battle, Hector, such a gloom295\nSheds all around; death manifest impends.\nHaste\u2014call our best, if even they can hear.\n  He spake, nor Menelaus not complied,\nBut call\u2019d aloud on all the Chiefs of Greece.\n  Friends, senators, and leaders of the powers300\nOf Argos! who with Agamemnon drink\nAnd Menelaus at the public feast,\nEach bearing rule o\u2019er many, by the will\nOf Jove advanced to honor and renown!\nThe task were difficult to single out305\nChief after Chief by name amid the blaze\nOf such contention; but oh, come yourselves\nIndignant forth, nor let the dogs of Troy\nPatroclus rend, and gambol with his bones!\n  He ceased, whom O\u00efliades the swift310\nHearing incontinent, of all the Chiefs\nRan foremost, after whom Idomeneus\nApproach\u2019d, and dread as homicidal Mars\nMeriones. But never mind of man\nCould even in silent recollection name315\nThe whole vast multitude who, following these\nRenew\u2019d the battle on the part of Greece.\nThe Trojans first, with Hector at their head,\nWedged in close phalanx, rush\u2019d to the assault\n  As when within some rapid river\u2019s mouth320\nThe billows and stream clash, on either shore[3]\nLoud sounds the roar[3] of waves ejected wide,\nSuch seem\u2019d the clamors of the Trojan host.\nBut the Achaians, one in heart, around\nPatroclus stood, bulwark\u2019d with shields of brass325\nAnd over all their glittering helmets Jove\nDarkness diffused, for he had loved Patroclus\nWhile yet he lived friend of \u00c6acides,\nAnd now, abhorring that the dogs of Troy\nShould eat him, urged the Greeks to his defence,330\nThe host of Troy first shook the Grecian host;\nThe body left, they fled; yet of them all,\nThe Trojan powers, determined as they were,\nSlew none, but dragg\u2019d the body. Neither stood\nThe Greeks long time aloof, soon as repulsed335\nAgain led on by Ajax, who in form\nAnd in exploits all others far excell\u2019d.\nPeerless \u00c6acides alone except.\nRight through the foremost combatants he rush\u2019d,\nIn force resembling most some savage boar340\nThat in the mountains bursting through the brakes,\nThe swains disperses and their hounds with ease;\nLike him, illustrious Ajax, mighty son\nOf Telamon, at his assault dispersed\nWith ease the close imbattled ranks who fought345\nAround Patroclus\u2019 body, strong in hope\nTo achieve it, and to make the glory theirs.\nHippotho\u00fcs, a youth of high renown,\nSon of Pelasgian Lethus, by a noose\nAround his ancle cast dragg\u2019d through the fight350\nPatroclus, so to gratify the host\nOf Ilium and their Chief; but evil him\nReached suddenly, by none of all his friends\n(Though numerous wish\u2019d to save him) turn\u2019d aside.\nFor swift advancing on him through the crowd355\nThe son of Telamon pierced, spear in hand,\nHis helmet brazen-cheek\u2019d; the crested casque,\nSo smitten, open\u2019d wide, for huge the hand\nAnd ponderous was the spear that gave the blow\nAnd all around its neck, mingled with blood360\nGush\u2019d forth the brain. There, lifeless, down he sank,\nLet fall the hero\u2019s foot, and fell himself\nProne on the dead, never to see again?\nDeep-soil\u2019d Larissa, never to require\nTheir kind solicitudes who gave him birth,365\nIn bloom of life by dauntless Ajax slain.\nThen Hector hurl\u2019d at Ajax his bright spear,\nBut he, forewarn\u2019d of its approach, escaped\nNarrowly, and it pierced Schedius instead,\nBrave son of Iphitus; he, noblest Chief370\nOf the Phocensians, over many reign\u2019d,\nDwelling in Panopeus the far-renown\u2019d.\nEntering beneath the clavicle[4] the point\nRight through his shoulder\u2019s summit pass\u2019d behind,\nAnd on his loud-resounding arms he fell.375\nBut Ajax at his waist wounded the son\nOf Ph\u0153nops, valiant Phorcys, while he stood\nGuarding Hippoth\u00f6us; through his hollow mail\nEnforced the weapon drank his inmost life,\nAnd in his palm, supine, he clench\u2019d the dust.380\nThen, Hector with the foremost Chiefs of Troy\nFell back; the Argives sent a shout to heaven,\nAnd dragging Phorcys and Hippoth\u00f6us thence\nStripp\u2019d both. In that bright moment Ilium\u2019s host\nFear-quell\u2019d before Achaia\u2019s warlike sons385\nHad Troy re-enter\u2019d, and the host of Greece\nBy matchless might and fortitude their own\nHad snatch\u2019d a victory from the grasp of fate,\nBut that, himself, the King of radiant shafts\n\u00c6neas roused; Epytis\u2019 son he seem\u2019d390\nPeriphas, ancient in the service grown\nOf old Anchises whom he dearly loved;\nHis form assumed, Apollo thus began.\n  How could ye save, \u00c6neas, were the Gods\nYour enemies, the towers of lofty Troy?395\nAs I have others seen, warriors who would,\nMen fill\u2019d with might and valor, firm themselves\nAnd Chiefs of multitudes disdaining fear.\nBut Jove to us the victory far more\nThan to the Grecians wills; therefore the fault400\nIs yours, who tremble and refuse the fight.\n  He ended, whom \u00c6neas marking, knew\nAt once the glorious Archer of the skies,\nAnd thus to distant Hector call\u2019d aloud.\n  Oh, Hector, and ye other Chiefs of Troy405\nAnd of her brave confederates! Shame it were\nShould we re-enter Ilium, driven to flight\nBy dastard fear before the host of Greece.\nA God assured me even now, that Jove,\nSupreme in battle, gives his aid to Troy.410\nRush, therefore, on the Dana\u00ef direct,\nNor let them, safe at least and unannoy\u2019d,\nBear hence Patroclus\u2019 body to the fleet.\n  He spake, and starting far into the van\nStood foremost forth; they, wheeling, faced the Greeks.415\nThen, spear in hand, \u00c6neas smote the friend\nOf Lycomedes, brave Leocritus,\nSon of Arisbas. Lycomedes saw\nCompassionate his death, and drawing nigh\nFirst stood, then hurling his resplendent lance,420\nRight through the liver Apisaon pierced\nOffspring of Hippasus, his chest beneath,\nAnd, lifeless, instant, on the field he fell.\nHe from P\u00e6onia the deep soil\u2019d to Troy\nCame forth, Asterop\u00e6us sole except,425\nBravest of all P\u00e6onia\u2019s band in arms.\nAsterop\u00e6us saw, and to the van\nSprang forth for furious combat well prepared,\nBut room for fight found none, so thick a fence\nOf shields and ported spears fronted secure430\nThe phalanx guarding Men\u0153tiades.\nFor Ajax ranging all the ranks, aloud\nAdmonish\u2019d them that no man yielding ground\nShould leave Patroclus, or advance before\nThe rest, but all alike fight and stand fast.435\nSuch order gave huge Ajax; purple gore\nDrench\u2019d all the ground; in slaughter\u2019d heaps they fell\nTrojans and Trojan aids of dauntless hearts\nAnd Grecians; for not even they the fight\nWaged bloodless, though with far less cost of blood,440\nEach mindful to avert his fellow\u2019s fate.\n  Thus burn\u2019d the battle; neither hadst thou deem\u2019d\nThe sun himself in heaven unquench\u2019d, or moon,\nBeneath a cope so dense of darkness strove\nUnceasing all the most renown\u2019d in arms445\nFor Men\u0153tiades. Meantime the war,\nWherever else, the bright-arm\u2019d Grecians waged\nAnd Trojans under skies serene. The sun\nOn them his radiance darted; not a cloud,\nFrom mountain or from vale rising, allay\u2019d450\nHis fervor; there at distance due they fought\nAnd paused by turns, and shunn\u2019d the cruel dart.\nBut in the middle field not war alone\nThey suffer\u2019d, but night also; ruthless raged\nThe iron storm, and all the mightiest bled.455\nTwo glorious Chiefs, the while, Antilochus\nAnd Thrasymedes, had no tidings heard\nOf brave Patroclus slain, but deem\u2019d him still\nLiving, and troubling still the host of Troy;\nFor watchful[5] only to prevent the flight460\nOr slaughter of their fellow-warriors, they\nMaintain\u2019d a distant station, so enjoin\u2019d\nBy Nestor when he sent them to the field.\nBut fiery conflict arduous employ\u2019d\nThe rest all day continual; knees and legs,465\nFeet, hands, and eyes of those who fought to guard\nThe valiant friend of swift \u00c6acides\nSweat gather\u2019d foul and dust. As when a man\nA huge ox-hide drunken with slippery lard\nGives to be stretch\u2019d, his servants all around470\nDisposed, just intervals between, the task\nPly strenuous, and while many straining hard\nExtend it equal on all sides, it sweats\nThe moisture out, and drinks the unction in,[6]\nSo they, in narrow space struggling, the dead475\nDragg\u2019d every way, warm hope conceiving, these\nTo drag him thence to Troy, those, to the ships.\nWild tumult raged around him; neither Mars,\nGatherer of hosts to battle, nor herself\nPallas, however angry, had beheld480\nThat conflict with disdain, Jove to such length\nProtracted on that day the bloody toil\nOf steeds and men for Men\u0153tiades.\nNor knew divine Achilles or had aught\nHeard of Patroclus slain, for from the ships485\nRemote they fought, beneath the walls of Troy.\nHe, therefore, fear\u2019d not for his death, but hope\nIndulged much rather, that, the battle push\u2019d\nTo Ilium\u2019s gates, he should return alive.\nFor that his friend, unaided by himself490\nOr ever aided, should prevail to lay\nTroy waste, he nought supposed; by Thetis warn\u2019d\nIn secret conference oft, he better knew\nJove\u2019s purpose; yet not even she had borne\nThose dreadful tidings to his ear, the loss495\nImmeasurable of his dearest friend.\n  They all around the dead fought spear in hand\nWith mutual slaughter ceaseless, and amid\nAchaia\u2019s host thus spake a Chief mail-arm\u2019d.\n  Shame were it, Grecians! should we seek by flight500\nOur galleys now; yawn earth our feet beneath\nAnd here ingulf us rather! Better far\nThan to permit the steed-famed host of Troy\nTo drag Patroclus hence into the town,\nAnd make the glory of this conflict theirs.505\n  Thus also of the dauntless Trojans spake\nA certain warrior. Oh, my friends! although\nThe Fates ordain us, one and all, to die\nAround this body, stand! quit not the field.\n  So spake the warrior prompting into act510\nThe courage of his friends, and such they strove\nOn both sides; high into the vault of heaven\nThe iron din pass\u2019d through the desart air.\nMeantime the horses of \u00c6acides\nFrom fight withdrawn, soon as they understood515\nTheir charioteer fallen in the dust beneath\nThe arm of homicidal Hector, wept.\nThem oft with hasty lash Diores\u2019 son\nAutomedon impatient smote, full oft\nHe stroked them gently, and as oft he chode;[7]520\nYet neither to the fleet ranged on the shore\nOf spacious Hellespont would they return,\nNor with the Grecians seek the fight, but stood\nAs a sepulchral pillar stands, unmoved\nBetween their traces;[8] to the earth they hung525\nTheir heads, with plenteous tears their driver mourn\u2019d,\nAnd mingled their dishevell\u2019d manes with dust.\nJove saw their grief with pity, and his brows\nShaking, within himself thus, pensive, said.\n  Ah hapless pair! Wherefore by gift divine530\nWere ye to Peleus given, a mortal king,\nYourselves immortal and from age exempt?\nWas it that ye might share in human woes?\nFor, of all things that breathe or creep the earth,\nNo creature lives so mere a wretch as man.535\nYet shall not Priameian Hector ride\nTriumphant, drawn by you. Myself forbid.\nSuffice it that he boasts vain-gloriously\nThose arms his own. Your spirit and your limbs\nI will invigorate, that ye may bear540\nSafe hence Automedon into the fleet.\nFor I ordain the Trojans still to spread\nCarnage around victorious, till they reach\nThe gallant barks, and till the sun at length\nDescending, sacred darkness cover all.545\n  He said, and with new might the steeds inspired.\nThey, shaking from their hair profuse the dust,\nBetween the van of either army whirl\u2019d\nThe rapid chariot. Fighting as he pass\u2019d,\nThough fill\u2019d with sorrow for his slaughter\u2019d friend,550\nAutomedon high-mounted swept the field\nImpetuous as a vulture scattering geese;\nNow would he vanish, and now, turn\u2019d again,\nChase through a multitude his trembling foe;\nBut whomsoe\u2019er he follow\u2019d, none he slew,555\nNor was the task possible to a Chief\nSole in the sacred chariot, both to aim\nThe spear aright and guide the fiery steeds.\nAt length Alcimedon, his friend in arms,\nSon of Laerceus son of \u00c6mon, him560\nObserving, from behind the chariot hail\u2019d\nThe flying warrior, whom he thus bespake.\n  What power, Automedon! hath ta\u2019en away\nThy better judgment, and thy breast inspired\nWith this vain purpose to assail alone565\nThe Trojan van? Thy partner in the fight\nIs slain, and Hector on his shoulders bears,\nElate, the armor of \u00c6acides.\n  Then, answer thus Automedon return\u2019d,\nSon of Diores. Who of all our host570\nWas ever skill\u2019d, Alcimedon! as thou\nTo rule the fire of these immortal steeds,\nSave only while he lived, peer of the Gods\nIn that great art, Patroclus, now no more?\nThou, therefore, the resplendent reins receive575\nAnd scourge, while I, dismounting, wage the fight.\n  He ceased; Alcimedon without delay\nThe battle-chariot mounting, seized at once\nThe lash and reins, and from his seat down leap\u2019d\nAutomedon. Them noble Hector mark\u2019d,580\nAnd to \u00c6neas at his side began.\n  Illustrious Chief of Trojans brazen-mail\u2019d\n\u00c6neas! I have noticed yonder steeds\nOf swift Achilles rushing into fight\nConspicuous, but under sway of hands585\nUnskilful; whence arises a fair hope\nThat we might seize them, wert thou so inclined;\nFor never would those two dare to oppose\nIn battle an assault dreadful as ours.\n  He ended, nor the valiant son refused590\nOf old Anchises, but with targets firm\nOf season\u2019d hide brass-plated thrown athwart\nTheir shoulders, both advanced direct, with whom\nOf godlike form Aretus also went\nAnd Chromius. Ardent hope they all conceived595\nTo slay those Chiefs, and from the field to drive\nAchilles\u2019 lofty steeds. Vain hope! for them\nNo bloodless strife awaited with the force\nOf brave Automedon; he, prayer to Jove\nFirst offering, felt his angry soul with might600\nHeroic fill\u2019d, and thus his faithful friend\nAlcimedon, incontinent, address\u2019d.\n  Alcimedon! hold not the steeds remote\nBut breathing on my back; for I expect\nThat never Priame\u00efan Hector\u2019s rage605\nShall limit know, or pause, till, slaying us,\nHe shall himself the coursers ample-maned\nMount of Achilles, and to flight compel\nThe Argive host, or perish in the van.\n  So saying, he call\u2019d aloud on Menelaus610\nWith either Ajax. Oh, illustrious Chiefs\nOf Argos, Menelaus, and ye bold\nAjaces![9] leaving all your best to cope\nWith Ilium\u2019s powers and to protect the dead,\nFrom friends still living ward the bitter day.615\nFor hither borne, two Chiefs, bravest of all\nThe Trojans, Hector and \u00c6neas rush\nRight through the battle. The events of war\nHeaven orders; therefore even I will give\nMy spear its flight, and Jove dispose the rest!620\n  He said, and brandishing his massy spear\nDismiss\u2019d it at Aretus; full he smote\nHis ample shield, nor stay\u2019d the pointed brass,\nBut penetrating sheer the disk, his belt\nPierced also, and stood planted in his waist.625\nAs when some vigorous youth with sharpen\u2019d axe\nA pastured bullock smites behind the horns\nAnd hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke\nSprings forth and falls, so sprang Aretus forth,\nThen fell supine, and in his bowels stood630\nThe keen-edged lance still quivering till he died.\nThen Hector, in return, his radiant spear\nHurl\u2019d at Automedon, who of its flight\nForewarn\u2019d his body bowing prone, the stroke\nEluded, and the spear piercing the soil635\nBehind him, shook to its superior end,\nTill, spent by slow degrees, its fury slept.\nAnd now, with hand to hilt, for closer war\nBoth stood prepared, when through the multitude\nAdvancing at their fellow-warrior\u2019s call,640\nThe Ajaces suddenly their combat fierce\nPrevented. Awed at once by their approach\nHector retired, with whom \u00c6neas went\nAlso and godlike Chromius, leaving there\nAretus with his vitals torn, whose arms,645\nFierce as the God of war Automedon\nStripp\u2019d off, and thus exulted o\u2019er the slain.\n  My soul some portion of her grief resigns\nConsoled, although by slaughter of a worse,\nFor loss of valiant Men\u0153tiades.650\n  So saying, within his chariot he disposed\nThe gory spoils, then mounted it himself\nWith hands and feet purpled, as from a bull\nHis bloody prey, some lion newly-gorged.\n  And now around Patroclus raged again655\nDread strife deplorable! for from the skies\nDescending at the Thunderer\u2019s command\nWhose purpose now was to assist the Greeks,\nPallas enhanced the fury of the fight.\nAs when from heaven, in view of mortals, Jove660\nExhibits bright his bow, a sign ordain\u2019d\nOf war, or numbing frost which all the works\nSuspends of man and saddens all the flocks;\nSo she, all mantled with a radiant cloud\nEntering Achaia\u2019s host, fired every breast.665\nBut meeting Menelaus first, brave son\nOf Atreus, in the form and with the voice\nRobust of Ph\u0153nix, him she thus bespake.\n  Shame, Menelaus, shall to thee redound\nFor ever, and reproach, should dogs devour670\nThe faithful friend of Peleus\u2019 noble son\nUnder Troy\u2019s battlements; but stand, thyself,\nUndaunted, and encourage all the host.\n  To whom the son of Atreus bold in arms.\nAh, Ph\u0153nix, friend revered, ancient and sage!675\nWould Pallas give me might and from the dint\nShield me of dart and spear, with willing mind\nI would defend Patroclus, for his death\nHath touch\u2019d me deep. But Hector with the rage\nBurns of consuming fire, nor to his spear680\nGives pause, for him Jove leads to victory.\n  He ceased, whom Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed\nHearing, rejoiced that of the heavenly powers\nHe had invoked _her_ foremost to his aid.\nHis shoulders with new might, and limbs she fill\u2019d,685\nAnd persevering boldness to his breast\nImparted, such as prompts the fly, which oft\nFrom flesh of man repulsed, her purpose yet\nTo bite holds fast, resolved on human blood.\nHis stormy bosom with such courage fill\u2019d690\nBy Pallas, to Patroclus he approach\u2019d\nAnd hurl\u2019d, incontinent, his glittering spear.\nThere was a Trojan Chief, Podes by name,\nSon of E\u00ebtion, valorous and rich;\nOf all Troy\u2019s citizens him Hector most695\nRespected, in convivial pleasures sweet\nHis chosen companion. As he sprang to flight,\nThe hero of the golden locks his belt\nStruck with full force and sent the weapon through.\nSounding he fell, and from the Trojan ranks700\nAtrides dragg\u2019d the body to his own.\nThen drew Apollo near to Hector\u2019s side,\nAnd in the form of Ph\u0153nops, Asius\u2019 son,\nOf all the foreign guests at Hector\u2019s board\nHis favorite most, the hero thus address\u2019d.705\n  What Chief of all the Grecians shall henceforth\nFear Hector, who from Menelaus shrinks\nOnce deem\u2019d effeminate, but dragging now\nThe body of thy valiant friend approved\nWhom he hath slain, Podes, E\u00ebtion\u2019s son?710\n  He spake, and at his words grief like a cloud\nInvolved the mind of Hector dark around;\nRight through the foremost combatants he rush\u2019d\nAll clad in dazzling brass. Then, lifting high\nHis tassel\u2019d \u00c6gis radiant, Jove with storms715\nEnveloped Ida; flash\u2019d his lightnings, roar\u2019d\nHis thunders, and the mountain shook throughout.\nTroy\u2019s host he prosper\u2019d, and the Greeks dispersed.\n  First fled Peneleus, the B\u0153otian Chief,\nWhom facing firm the foe Polydamas720\nStruck on his shoulder\u2019s summit with a lance\nHurl\u2019d nigh at hand, which slight inscribed the bone.\n[10]Le\u00eftus also, son of the renown\u2019d\nAlectryon, pierced by Hector in the wrist,\nDisabled left the fight; trembling he fled725\nAnd peering narrowly around, nor hoped\nTo lift a spear against the Trojans more.\nHector, pursuing Le\u00eftus, the point\nEncounter\u2019d of the brave Idomeneus\nFull on his chest; but in his mail the lance730\nSnapp\u2019d, and the Trojans shouted to the skies.\nHe, in his turn, cast at Deucalion\u2019s son\nIdomeneus, who in that moment gain\u2019d[11]\nA chariot-seat; but him the erring spear\nAttain\u2019d not, piercing C\u0153ranus instead735\nThe friend and follower of Meriones\nFrom wealthy Lyctus, and his charioteer.\nFor when he left, that day, the gallant barks\nIdomeneus had sought the field on foot,\nAnd triumph proud, full sure, to Ilium\u2019s host740\nHad yielded now, but that with rapid haste\nC\u0153ranus drove to his relief, from him\nThe fate averting which himself incurr\u2019d\nVictim of Hector\u2019s homicidal arm.\nHim Hector smiting between ear and jaw745\nPush\u2019d from their sockets with the lance\u2019s point\nHis firm-set teeth, and sever\u2019d sheer his tongue.\nDismounted down he fell, and from his hand\nLet slide the flowing reins, which, to the earth\nStooping, Meriones in haste resumed,750\nAnd briefly thus Idomeneus address\u2019d.\n  Now drive, and cease not, to the fleet of Greece!\nThyself see\u2019st victory no longer ours.\n  He said; Idomeneus whom, now, dismay\nSeized also, with his lash plying severe755\nThe coursers ample-maned, flew to the fleet.\nNor Ajax, dauntless hero, not perceived,\nNor Menelaus, by the sway of Jove\nThe victory inclining fast to Troy,\nAnd thus the Telamonian Chief began.760\n  Ah! who can be so blind as not to see\nThe eternal Father, now, with his own hand\nAwarding glory to the Trojan host,\nWhose every spear flies, instant, to the mark\nSent forth by brave or base? Jove guides them all,765\nWhile, ineffectual, ours fall to the ground.\nBut haste, devise we of ourselves the means\nHow likeliest we may bear Patroclus hence,\nAnd gladden, safe returning, all our friends,\nWho, hither looking anxious, hope have none770\nThat we shall longer check the unconquer\u2019d force\nOf hero-slaughtering Hector, but expect\n[12]To see him soon amid the fleet of Greece.\nOh for some Grecian now to carry swift\nThe tidings to Achilles\u2019 ear, untaught,775\nAs I conjecture, yet the doleful news\nOf his Patroclus slain! but no such Greek\nMay I discern, such universal gloom\nBoth men and steeds envelops all around.\nFather of heaven and earth! deliver thou780\nAchaia\u2019s host from darkness; clear the skies;\nGive day; and (since thy sovereign will is such)\nDestruction with it\u2014but oh give us day![13]\n  He spake, whose tears Jove saw with pity moved,\nAnd chased the untimely shades; bright beam\u2019d the sun785\nAnd the whole battle was display\u2019d. Then spake\nThe hero thus to Atreus\u2019 mighty son.\n  Now noble Menelaus! looking forth,\nSee if Antilochus be yet alive,\nBrave son of Nestor, whom exhort to fly790\nWith tidings to Achilles, of the friend\nWhom most he loved, of his Patroclus slain.\n  He ceased, nor Menelaus, dauntless Chief,\nThat task refused, but went; yet neither swift\nNor willing. As a lion leaves the stalls795\nWearied himself with harassing the guard,\nWho, interdicting him his purposed prey,\nWatch all the night; he famish\u2019d, yet again\nComes furious on, but speeds not, kept aloof\nBy spears from daring hands dismissed, but more800\nBy flash of torches which, though fierce, he dreads,\nTill at the dawn, sullen he stalks away;\nSo from Patroclus Menelaus went\nHeroic Chief! reluctant; for he fear\u2019d\nLest the Achaians should resign the dead,805\nThrough consternation, to the host of Troy.\nDeparting, therefore, he admonish\u2019d oft\nMeriones and the Ajaces, thus.\n  Ye two brave leaders of the Argive host,\nAnd thou, Meriones! now recollect810\nThe gentle manners of Patroclus fallen\nHapless in battle, who by carriage mild\nWell understood, while yet he lived, to engage\nAll hearts, through prisoner now of death and fate.\n  So saying, the hero amber-hair\u2019d his steps815\nTurn\u2019d thence, the field exploring with an eye\nSharp as the eagle\u2019s, of all fowls beneath\nThe azure heavens for keenest sight renown\u2019d,\nWhom, though he soar sublime, the leveret\nBy broadest leaves conceal\u2019d \u2019scapes not, but swift820\nDescending, even her he makes his prey;\nSo, noble Menelaus! were thine eyes\nTurn\u2019d into every quarter of the host\nIn search of Nestor\u2019s son, if still he lived.\nHim, soon, encouraging his band to fight,825\nHe noticed on the left of all the field,\nAnd sudden standing at his side, began.\n  Antilochus! oh hear me, noble friend!\nAnd thou shalt learn tidings of such a deed\nAs best had never been. Thou know\u2019st, I judge,830\nAnd hast already seen, how Jove exalts\nTo victory the Trojan host, and rolls\nDistress on ours; but ah! Patroclus lies,\nOur chief Achaian, slain, whose loss the Greeks\nFills with regret. Haste, therefore, to the fleet,835\nInform Achilles; bid him haste to save,\nIf save he can, the body of his friend;\nHe can no more, for Hector hath his arms.\n  He ceased. Antilochus with horror heard\nThose tidings; mute long time he stood, his eyes840\nSwam tearful, and his voice, sonorous erst,\nFound utterance none. Yet even so distress\u2019d,\nHe not the more neglected the command\nOf Menelaus. Setting forth to run,\nHe gave his armor to his noble friend845\nLaodocus, who thither turn\u2019d his steeds,\nAnd weeping as he went, on rapid feet\nSped to Achilles with that tale of wo.\n  Nor could the noble Menelaus stay\nTo give the weary Pylian band, bereft850\nOf their beloved Antilochus, his aid,\nBut leaving them to Thrasymedes\u2019 care,\nHe flew to Men\u0153tiades again,\nAnd the Ajaces, thus, instant bespake.\n  He goes. I have dispatch\u2019d him to the fleet855\nTo seek Achilles; but his coming naught\nExpect I now, although with rage he burn\nAgainst illustrious Hector; for what fight\nCan he, unarm\u2019d, against the Trojans wage?\nDeliberating, therefore, frame we means860\nHow best to save Patroclus, and to \u2019scape\nOurselves unslain from this disastrous field.\n  Whom answer\u2019d the vast son of Telamon.\nMost noble Menelaus! good is all\nWhich thou hast spoken. Lift ye from the earth865\nThou and Meriones, at once, and bear\nThe dead Patroclus from the bloody field.\nTo cope meantime with Hector and his host\nShall be our task, who, one in name, nor less\nIn spirit one, already have the brunt870\nOf much sharp conflict, side by side, sustain\u2019d.\n  He ended; they enfolding in their arms\nThe dead, upbore him high above the ground\nWith force united; after whom the host\nOf Troy, seeing the body borne away,875\nShouted, and with impetuous onset all\nFollow\u2019d them. As the hounds, urged from behind\nBy youthful hunters, on the wounded boar\nMake fierce assault; awhile at utmost speed\nThey stretch toward him hungering, for the prey,880\nBut oft as, turning sudden, the stout brawn\nFaces them, scatter\u2019d on all sides escape;\nThe Trojans so, thick thronging in the rear,\nCeaseless with falchions and spears double-edged\nAnnoy\u2019d them sore, but oft as in retreat885\nThe dauntless heroes, the Ajaces turn\u2019d\nTo face them, deadly wan grew every cheek,\nAnd not a Trojan dared with onset rude\nMolest them more in conflict for the dead.\n  Thus they, laborious, forth from battle bore890\nPatroclus to the fleet, tempestuous war\nTheir steps attending, rapid as the flames\nWhich, kindled suddenly, some city waste;\nConsumed amid the blaze house after house\nSinks, and the wind, meantime, roars through the fire;895\nSo them a deafening tumult as they went\nPursued, of horses and of men spear-arm\u2019d.\nAnd as two mules with strength for toil endued,\nDraw through rough ways down from the distant hills\nHuge timber, beam or mast; sweating they go,900\nAnd overlabor\u2019d to faint weariness;\nSo they the body bore, while, turning oft,\nThe Ajaces check\u2019d the Trojans. As a mound\nPlanted with trees and stretch\u2019d athwart the mead\nRepels an overflow; the torrents loud905\nBaffling, it sends them far away to float\nThe level land, nor can they with the force\nOf all their waters burst a passage through;\nSo the Ajaces, constant, in the rear\nRepress\u2019d the Trojans; but the Trojans them910\nAttended still, of whom \u00c6neas most\nTroubled them, and the glorious Chief of Troy.\nThey as a cloud of starlings or of daws\nFly screaming shrill, warn\u2019d timely of the kite\nOr hawk, devourers of the smaller kinds,915\nSo they shrill-clamoring toward the fleet,\nHasted before \u00c6neas and the might\nOf Hector, nor the battle heeded more.\nMuch radiant armor round about the foss\nFell of the flying Grecians, or within920\nLay scatter\u2019d, and no pause of war they found.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XVIII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE EIGHTEENTH BOOK.\n\nAchilles, by command of Juno, shows himself to the Trojans, who fly at\nhis appearance; Vulcan, at the insistence of Thetis, forges for him a\nsuit of armor.\n\n\nBOOK XVIII.\n\n\nThus burn\u2019d the battle like devouring fire.\nMeantime, Antilochus with rapid steps\nCame to Achilles. Him he found before\nHis lofty barks, occupied, as he stood,\nWith boding fears of all that had befall\u2019n.5\nHe groan\u2019d, and to his noble self he said.\n  Ah! wo is me\u2014why falls Achaia\u2019s host,\nWith such disorder foul, back on the fleet?\nI tremble lest the Gods my anxious thoughts\nAccomplish and my mother\u2019s words, who erst10\nHath warn\u2019d me, that the bravest and the best\nOf all my Myrmidons, while yet I live,\nSlain under Troy, must view the sun no more.\nBrave Men\u0153tiades is, doubtless, slain.\nUnhappy friend! I bade thee oft, our barks15\nDeliver\u2019d once from hostile fires, not seek\nTo cope in arms with Hector, but return.\n  While musing thus he stood, the son approach\u2019d\nOf noble Nestor, and with tears his cheeks\nBedewing copious, his sad message told.20\n  Oh son of warlike Peleus! thou shalt hear\nTidings of deeds which best had never been.\nPatroclus is no more. The Grecians fight\nFor his bare corse, and Hector hath his arms.[1]\n\n  Then clouds of sorrow fell on Peleus\u2019 son,25\nAnd, grasping with both hands the ashes, down\nHe pour\u2019d them on his head, his graceful brows\nDishonoring, and thick the sooty shower\nDescending settled on his fragrant vest.\nThen, stretch\u2019d in ashes, at the vast extent30\nOf his whole length he lay, disordering wild\nWith his own hands, and rending off his hair.\nThe maidens, captived by himself in war\nAnd by Patroclus, shrieking from the tent\nRan forth, and hemm\u2019d the glorious Chief around.[2]35\nAll smote their bosoms, and all, fainting, fell.\nOn the other side, Antilochus the hands\nHeld of Achilles, mourning and deep groans\nUttering from his noble heart, through fear\nLest Peleus\u2019 son should perish self-destroy\u2019d.40\nLoud groan\u2019d the hero, whose loud groans within\nThe gulfs of ocean, where she sat beside\nHer ancient sire, his Goddess-mother heard,\nAnd hearing shriek\u2019d; around her at the voice\nAssembled all the Nereids of the deep45\nCymodoce, Thalia, Glauca came,\nNis\u00e6a, Spio, Thoa, and with eyes\nProtuberant beauteous Halia; came with these\nCymoth\u00f6e, and Act\u00e6a, and the nymph\nOf marshes, Limnorea, nor delay\u2019d50\nAgave, nor Amphith\u00f6e the swift,\nI\u00e6ra, Doto, Melita, nor thence\nWas absent Proto or Dynamene,\nCallianira, Doris, Panope,\nPherusa or Amphinome, or fair55\nDexamene, or Galatea praised\nFor matchless form divine; Nemertes pure\nCame also, with Apseudes crystal-bright,\nCallianassa, M\u00e6ra, Clymene,\nJaneira and Janassa, sister pair,60\nAnd Orithya and with azure locks\nLuxuriant, Amathea; nor alone\nCame these, but every ocean-nymph beside,\nThe silver cave was fill\u2019d; each smote her breast,\nAnd Thetis, loud lamenting, thus began.65\n  Ye sister Nereids, hear! that ye may all\nFrom my own lips my boundless sorrow learn.\nAh me forlorn! ah me, parent in vain\nOf an illustrious birth! who, having borne\nA noble son magnanimous, the chief70\nOf heroes, saw him like a thriving plant\nShoot vigorous under my maternal care,\nAnd sent him early in his gallant fleet\nEmbark\u2019d, to combat with the sons of Troy.\nBut him from fight return\u2019d I shall receive75\nBeneath the roof of Peleus, never more;\nAnd while he lives, and on the sun his eyes\nOpens, he mourns, nor, going, can I aught\nAssist him; yet I go, that I may see\nMy darling son, and from his lips be taught80\nWhat grief hath now befallen him, who close\nAbiding in his tent shares not the war.\nSo saying she left the cave, whom all her nymphs\nAttended weeping, and where\u2019er they pass\u2019d\nThe breaking billows open\u2019d wide a way.85\nAt fruitful Troy arrived, in order fair\nThey climb\u2019d the beach, where by his numerous barks\nEncompass\u2019d, swift Achilles sighing lay.\nThen, drawing nigh to her afflicted son,\nThe Goddess-mother press\u2019d between her palms90\nHis temples, and in accents wing\u2019d inquired.\n  Why weeps my son? what sorrow wrings thy soul?\nSpeak, hide it not. Jove hath fulfill\u2019d the prayer\nWhich erst with lifted hands thou didst prefer,\nThat all Achaia\u2019s host, wanting thy aid,95\nMight be compell\u2019d into the fleet, and foul\nDisgrace incur, there prison\u2019d for thy sake.\n  To whom Achilles, groaning deep, replied.\nMy mother! it is true; Olympian Jove\nThat prayer fulfils; but thence, what joy to me,100\nPatroclus slain? the friend of all my friends\nWhom most I loved, dear to me as my life\u2014\nHim I have lost. Slain and despoil\u2019d he lies\nBy Hector of his glorious armor bright,\nThe wonder of all eyes, a matchless gift105\nGiven by the Gods to Peleus on that day\nWhen thee they doom\u2019d into a mortal\u2019s arms.\nOh that with these thy deathless ocean-nymphs\nDwelling content, thou hadst my father left\nTo espouse a mortal bride, so hadst thou \u2019scaped110\nPangs numberless which thou must now endure\nFor thy son\u2019s death, whom thou shalt never meet\nFrom Troy return\u2019d, in Peleus\u2019 mansion more!\nFor life I covet not, nor longer wish\nTo mix with human kind, unless my spear115\nMay find out Hector, and atonement take\nBy slaying him, for my Patroclus slain.\n  To whom, with streaming tears, Thetis replied.\nSwift comes thy destiny as thou hast said,\nFor after Hector\u2019s death thine next ensues.120\n  Then answer, thus, indignant he return\u2019d.\nDeath, seize me now! since when my friend was slain,\nMy doom was, not to succor him. He died\nFrom home remote, and wanting me to save him.\nNow, therefore, since I neither visit more125\nMy native land, nor, present here, have aught\nAvail\u2019d Patroclus or my many friends\nWhom noble Hector hath in battle slain,\nBut here I sit unprofitable grown,\nEarth\u2019s burden, though of such heroic note,130\nIf not in council foremost (for I yield\nThat prize to others) yet in feats of arms,\nSuch as none other in Achaia\u2019s host,\nMay fierce contention from among the Gods\nPerish, and from among the human race,135\nWith wrath, which sets the wisest hearts on fire;\nSweeter than dropping honey to the taste,\nBut in the bosom of mankind, a smoke![3]\nSuch was my wrath which Agamemnon roused,\nThe king of men. But since the past is fled140\nIrrevocable, howsoe\u2019er distress\u2019d,\nRenounce we now vain musings on the past,\nContent through sad necessity. I go\nIn quest of noble Hector, who hath slain\nMy loved Patroclus, and such death will take145\nAs Jove ordains me and the Powers of Heaven\nAt their own season, send it when they may.\nFor neither might the force of Hercules,\nAlthough high-favored of Saturnian Jove,\nFrom death escape, but Fate and the revenge150\nRestless of Juno vanquish\u2019d even Him.\nI also, if a destiny like his\nAwait me, shall, like him, find rest in death;\nBut glory calls me now; now will I make\nSome Trojan wife or Dardan with both hands155\nWipe her soft cheeks, and utter many a groan.\nLong time have I been absent from the field,\nAnd they shall know it. Love me as thou may\u2019st,\nYet thwart me not, for I am fixt to go.\n  Whom Thetis answer\u2019d, Goddess of the Deep.160\nThou hast well said, my son! it is no blame\nTo save from threaten\u2019d death our suffering friends.\nBut thy magnificent and dazzling arms\nAre now in Trojan hands; them Hector wears\nExulting, but ordain\u2019d not long to exult,165\nSo habited; his death is also nigh.\nBut thou with yonder warring multitudes\nMix not till thou behold me here again;\nFor with the rising sun I will return\nTo-morrow, and will bring thee glorious arms,170\nBy Vulcan forged himself, the King of fire.[4]\n  She said, and turning from her son aside,\nThe sisterhood of Ocean thus address\u2019d.\n  Plunge ye again into the briny Deep,\nAnd to the hoary Sovereign of the floods175\nReport as ye have heard. I to the heights\nOlympian haste, that I may there obtain\nFrom Vulcan, glorious artist of the skies,\nArms of excelling beauty for my son.\n  She said; they plunged into the waves again,180\nAnd silver-footed Thetis, to the heights\nOlympian soaring swiftly to obtain\nArms for renown\u2019d Achilles, disappear\u2019d.\n  Meantime, with infinite uproar the Greeks\nFrom Hector\u2019s hero-slaying arm had fled185\nHome to their galleys station\u2019d on the banks\nOf Hellespont. Nor yet Achaia\u2019s sons\nHad borne the body of Patroclus clear\nFrom flight of darts away, but still again\nThe multitude of warriors and of steeds190\nCame on, by Priameian Hector led\nRapid as fire. Thrice noble Hector seized\nHis ancles from behind, ardent to drag\nPatroclus, calling to his host the while;\nBut thrice, the two Ajaces, clothed with might,195\nShock\u2019d and repulsed him reeling. He with force\nFill\u2019d indefatigable, through his ranks\nIssuing, by turns assail\u2019d them, and by turns\nStood clamoring, yet not a step retired;\nBut as the hinds deter not from his prey200\nA tawny lion by keen hunger urged,\nSo would not both Ajaces, warriors bold,\nIntimidate and from the body drive\nHector; and he had dragg\u2019d him thence and won\nImmortal glory, but that Iris, sent205\nUnseen by Jove and by the powers of heaven,\nFrom Juno, to Achilles brought command\nThat he should show himself. Full near she drew,\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents thus the Chief address\u2019d.\n  Hero! most terrible of men, arise!210\nprotect Patroclus, for whose sake the war\nStands at the fleet of Greece. Mutual prevails\nThe slaughter, these the dead defending, those\nResolute hence to drag him to the gates\nOf wind-swept Ilium. But beyond them all215\nIllustrious Hector, obstinate is bent\nTo win him, purposing to lop his head,\nAnd to exhibit it impaled on high.\nThou then arise, nor longer on the ground\nLie stretch\u2019d inactive; let the thought with shame220\nTouch thee, of thy Patroclus made the sport\nOf Trojan dogs, whose corse, if it return\nDishonored home, brings with it thy reproach.\n  To whom Achilles matchless in the race.\nIris divine! of all the Gods, who sent thee?225\n  Then, thus, the swift ambassadress of heaven.\nBy Juno sent I come, consort of Jove.\nNor knows Saturnian Jove high-throned, himself,\nMy flight, nor any of the Immortal Powers,\nTenants of the Olympian heights snow-crown\u2019d.230\n  Her answer\u2019d then Pelides, glorious Chief.\nHow shall I seek the fight? they have my arms.\nMy mother charged me also to abstain\nFrom battle, till she bring me armor new\nWhich she hath promised me from Vulcan\u2019s hand.235\nMeantime, whose armor else might serve my need\nI know not, save perhaps alone the shield\nOf Telamonian Ajax, whom I deem\nHimself now busied in the stormy van,\nSlaying the Trojans in my friend\u2019s defence.240\n  To whom the swift-wing\u2019d messenger of heaven,\nFull well we know thine armor Hector\u2019s prize\nYet, issuing to the margin of the foss,\nShow thyself only. Panic-seized, perchance,\nThe Trojans shall from fight desist, and yield245\nTo the o\u2019ertoil\u2019d though dauntless sons of Greece\nShort respite; it is all that war allows.\n  So saying, the storm-wing\u2019d Iris disappear\u2019d.\nThen rose at once Achilles dear to Jove,\nAthwart whose shoulders broad Minerva cast250\nHer \u00c6gis fringed terrific, and his brows\nEncircled with a golden cloud that shot\nFires insupportable to sight abroad.\nAs when some island, situate afar\nOn the wide waves, invested all the day255\nBy cruel foes from their own city pour\u2019d,\nUpsends a smoke to heaven, and torches shows\nOn all her turrets at the close of eve\nWhich flash against the clouds, kindled in hope\nOf aid from neighbor maritime allies,260\nSo from Achilles\u2019 head light flash\u2019d to heaven.\nIssuing through the wall, beside the foss\nHe stood, but mix\u2019d not with Achaia\u2019s host,\nObedient to his mother\u2019s wise command.\nHe stood and shouted; Pallas also raised265\nA dreadful shout and tumult infinite\nExcited throughout all the host of Troy.\nClear as the trumpet\u2019s note when it proclaims\nA numerous host approaching to invest\nSome city close around, so clear the voice270\nRang of \u00c6acides, and tumult-toss\u2019d\nWas every soul that heard the brazen tone.\nWith swift recoil the long-maned coursers thrust\nThe chariots back, all boding wo at hand,\nAnd every charioteer astonish\u2019d saw275\nFires that fail\u2019d not, illumining the brows\nOf Peleus\u2019 son, by Pallas kindled there.\nThrice o\u2019er the trench Achilles sent his voice\nSonorous, and confusion at the sound\nThrice seized the Trojans, and their famed allies.280\nTwelve in that moment of their noblest died\nBy their own spears and chariots, and with joy\nThe Grecians from beneath a hill of darts\nDragging Patroclus, placed him on his bier.\nAround him throng\u2019d his fellow-warriors bold,285\nAll weeping, after whom Achilles went\nFast-weeping also at the doleful sight\nOf his true friend on his funereal bed\nExtended, gash\u2019d with many a mortal wound,\nWhom he had sent into the fight with steeds290\nAnd chariot, but received him thence no more.\n  And now majestic Juno sent the sun,\nUnwearied minister of light, although\nReluctant, down into the Ocean stream.[5]\nSo the sun sank, and the Achaians ceased295\nFrom the all-wasting labors of the war.\nOn the other side, the Trojans, from the fight\nRetiring, loosed their steeds, but ere they took\nThought of refreshment, in full council met.\nIt was a council at which no man sat,300\nOr dared; all stood; such terror had on all\nFallen, for that Achilles had appear\u2019d,\nAfter long pause from battle\u2019s arduous toil.\nFirst rose Polydamas the prudent son\nOf Panthus, above all the Trojans skill\u2019d305\nBoth in futurity and in the past.\nHe was the friend of Hector, and one night\nGave birth to both. In council one excell\u2019d\nAnd one still more in feats of high renown.\nThus then, admonishing them, he began.310\n  My friends! weigh well the occasion. Back to Troy\nBy my advice, nor wait the sacred morn\nHere, on the plain, from Ilium\u2019s walls remote\nSo long as yet the anger of this Chief\n\u2019Gainst noble Agamemnon burn\u2019d, so long315\nWe found the Greeks less formidable foes,\nAnd I rejoiced, myself, spending the night\nBeside their oary barks, for that I hoped\nTo seize them; but I now tremble at thought\nOf Peleus\u2019 rapid son again in arms.320\nA spirit proud as his will scorn to fight\nHere, on the plain, where Greeks and Trojans take\nTheir common share of danger and of toil,\nAnd will at once strike at your citadel,\nImpatient till he make your wives his prey.325\nHaste\u2014let us home\u2014else thus shall it befall;\nNight\u2019s balmy influence in his tent detains\nAchilles now, but rushing arm\u2019d abroad\nTo-morrow, should he find us lingering here,\nNone shall mistake him then; happy the man330\nWho soonest, then, shall \u2019scape to sacred Troy!\nThen, dogs shall make and vultures on our flesh\nPlenteous repast. Oh spare mine ears the tale!\nBut if, though troubled, ye can yet receive\nMy counsel, thus assembled we will keep335\nStrict guard to-night; meantime, her gates and towers\nWith all their mass of solid timbers, smooth\nAnd cramp\u2019d with bolts of steel, will keep the town.\nBut early on the morrow we will stand\nAll arm\u2019d on Ilium\u2019s towers. Then, if he choose,340\nHis galleys left, to compass Troy about,\nHe shall be task\u2019d enough; his lofty steeds\nShall have their fill of coursing to and fro\nBeneath, and gladly shall to camp return.\nBut waste the town he shall not, nor attempt345\nWith all the utmost valor that he boasts\nTo force a pass; dogs shall devour him first.\n  To whom brave Hector louring, and in wrath.\nPolydamas, I like not thy advice\nWho bidd\u2019st us in our city skulk, again350\nImprison\u2019d there. Are ye not yet content?\nWish ye for durance still in your own towers?\nTime was, when in all regions under heaven\nMen praised the wealth of Priam\u2019s city stored\nWith gold and brass; but all our houses now355\nStand emptied of their hidden treasures rare.\nJove in his wrath hath scatter\u2019d them; our wealth\nIs marketed, and Phrygia hath a part\nPurchased, and part M\u00e6onia\u2019s lovely land.\nBut since the son of wily Saturn old360\nHath given me glory now, and to inclose\nThe Grecians in their fleet hemm\u2019d by the sea,\nFool! taint not with such talk the public mind.\nFor not a Trojan here will thy advice\nFollow, or shall; it hath not my consent.365\nBut thus I counsel. Let us, band by band,\nThroughout the host take supper, and let each,\nGuarded against nocturnal danger, watch.\nAnd if a Trojan here be rack\u2019d in mind\nLest his possessions perish, let him cast370\nHis golden heaps into the public maw,[6]\nFar better so consumed than by the Greeks.\nThen, with the morrow\u2019s dawn, all fair array\u2019d\nIn battle, we will give them at their fleet\nSharp onset, and if Peleus\u2019 noble son375\nHave risen indeed to conflict for the ships,\nThe worse for him. I shall not for his sake\nAvoid the deep-toned battle, but will firm\nOppose his utmost. Either he shall gain\nOr I, great glory. Mars his favors deals380\nImpartial, and the slayer oft is slain.\nSo counsell\u2019d Hector, whom with shouts of praise\nThe Trojans answer\u2019d:\u2014fools, and by the power\nOf Pallas of all sober thought bereft!\nFor all applauded Hector, who had given385\nAdvice pernicious, and Polydamas,\nWhose counsel was discreet and wholesome none.\nSo then they took repast. But all night long\nThe Grecians o\u2019er Patroclus wept aloud,\nWhile, standing in the midst, Pelides led390\nThe lamentation, heaving many a groan,\nAnd on the bosom of his breathless friend\nImposing, sad, his homicidal hands.\nAs the grim lion, from whose gloomy lair\nAmong thick trees the hunter hath his whelps395\nPurloin\u2019d, too late returning mourns his loss,\nThen, up and down, the length of many a vale\nCourses, exploring fierce the robber\u2019s foot,\nIncensed as he, and with a sigh deep-drawn\nThus to his Myrmidons Achilles spake.400\n  How vain, alas! my word spoken that day\nAt random, when to soothe the hero\u2019s fears\nMen\u0153tius, then our guest, I promised him\nHis noble son at Opoeis again,\nLiving and laden with the spoils of Troy!405\nBut Jove performs not all the thoughts of man,\nFor we were both destined to tinge the soil\nOf Ilium with our blood, nor I shall see,\nMyself, my father in his mansion more\nOr Thetis, but must find my burial here.410\nYet, my Patroclus! since the earth expects\nMe next, I will not thy funereal rites\nFinish, till I shall bring both head and arms\nOf that bold Chief who slew thee, to my tent.\nI also will smite off, before thy pile,415\nThe heads of twelve illustrious sons of Troy,\nResentful of thy death. Meantime, among\nMy lofty galleys thou shalt lie, with tears\nMourn\u2019d day and night by Trojan captives fair\nAnd Dardan compassing thy bier around,420\nWhom we, at price of labor hard, ourselves\nWith massy spears toiling in battle took\nFrom many an opulent city, now no more.\n  So saying, he bade his train surround with fire\nA tripod huge, that they might quickly cleanse425\nPatroclus from all stain of clotted gore.\nThey on the blazing hearth a tripod placed\nCapacious, fill\u2019d with water its wide womb,\nAnd thrust dry wood beneath, till, fierce, the flames\nEmbraced it round, and warm\u2019d the flood within.430\nSoon as the water in the singing brass\nSimmer\u2019d, they bathed him, and with limpid oil\nAnointed; filling, next, his ruddy wounds\nWith unguent mellow\u2019d by nine circling years,\nThey stretch\u2019d him on his bed, then cover\u2019d him435\nFrom head to feet with linen texture light,\nAnd with a wide unsullied mantle, last.[7]\nAll night the Myrmidons around the swift\nAchilles stood, deploring loud his friend,\nAnd Jove his spouse and sister thus bespake.440\n  So then, Imperial Juno! not in vain\nThou hast the swift Achilles sought to rouse\nAgain to battle; the Achaians, sure,\nAre thy own children, thou hast borne them all.\n  To whom the awful Goddess ample-eyed.445\nWhat word hath pass\u2019d thy lips, Jove, most severe?\nA man, though mortal merely, and to me\nInferior in device, might have achieved\nThat labor easily. Can I who boast\nMyself the chief of Goddesses, and such450\nNot by birth only, but as thine espoused,\nWho art thyself sovereign of all the Gods,\nCan I with anger burn against the house\nOf Priam, and want means of just revenge?\n\n  Thus they in heaven their mutual conference455\nMeantime, the silver-footed Thetis reach\u2019d\nThe starr\u2019d abode eternal, brazen wall\u2019d\nOf Vulcan, by the builder lame himself\nUprear\u2019d, a wonder even in eyes divine.\nShe found him sweating, at his bellows huge460\nToiling industrious; tripods bright he form\u2019d\nTwenty at once, his palace-wall to grace\nRanged in harmonious order. Under each\nTwo golden wheels he set, on which (a sight\nMarvellous!) into council they should roll465\nSelf-moved, and to his house, self-moved, return.\nThus far the work was finish\u2019d, but not yet\nTheir ears of exquisite design affixt,\nFor them he stood fashioning, and prepared\nThe rivets. While he thus his matchless skill470\nEmploy\u2019d laborious, to his palace-gate\nThe silver-footed Thetis now advanced,\nWhom Charis, Vulcan\u2019s well-attired spouse,\nBeholding from the palace portal, flew\nTo seize the Goddess\u2019 hand, and thus inquired.475\n  Why, Thetis! worthy of all reverence\nAnd of all love, comest thou to our abode,\nUnfrequent here? But enter, and accept\nSuch welcome as to such a guest is due.\n  So saying, she introduced and to a seat480\nLed her with argent studs border\u2019d around\nAnd foot-stool\u2019d sumptuously;[8] then, calling forth\nHer spouse, the glorious artist, thus she said.\n  Haste, Vulcan! Thetis wants thee; linger not.\nTo whom the artist of the skies replied.485\n  A Goddess then, whom with much cause I love\nAnd venerate is here, who when I fell\nSaved me, what time my shameless mother sought\nTo cast me, because lame, out of all sight;\nThen had I been indeed forlorn, had not490\nEurynome the daughter of the Deep\nAnd Thetis in their laps received me fallen.\nNine years with them residing, for their use\nI form\u2019d nice trinkets, clasps, rings, pipes, and chains,\nWhile loud around our hollow cavern roar\u2019d495\nThe surge of the vast deep, nor God nor man,\nSave Thetis and Eurynome, my life\u2019s\nPreservers, knew where I was kept conceal\u2019d.\nSince, therefore, she is come, I cannot less\nThan recompense to Thetis amber-hair\u2019d500\nWith readiness the boon of life preserved.\nHaste, then, and hospitably spread the board\nFor her regale, while with my best dispatch\nI lay my bellows and my tools aside.\n  He spake, and vast in bulk and hot with toil505\nRose limping from beside his anvil-stock\nUpborne, with pain on legs tortuous and weak.\nFirst, from the forge dislodged he thrust apart\nHis bellows, and his tools collecting all\nBestow\u2019d them, careful, in a silver chest,510\nThen all around with a wet sponge he wiped\nHis visage, and his arms and brawny neck\nPurified, and his shaggy breast from smutch;\nLast, putting on his vest, he took in hand\nHis sturdy staff, and shuffled through the door.515\nBeside the King of fire two golden forms\nMajestic moved, that served him in the place\nOf handmaids; young they seem\u2019d, and seem\u2019d alive,\nNor want they intellect, or speech, or force,\nOr prompt dexterity by the Gods inspired.520\nThese his supporters were, and at his side\nAttendant diligent, while he, with gait\nUncouth, approaching Thetis where she sat\nOn a bright throne, seized fast her hand and said,\n  Why, Thetis! worthy as thou art of love525\nAnd of all reverence, hast thou arrived,\nUnfrequent here? Speak\u2014tell me thy desire,\nNor doubt my services, if thou demand\nThings possible, and possible to me.\n  Then Thetis, weeping plenteously, replied.530\nOh Vulcan! Is there on Olympius\u2019 heights\nA Goddess with such load of sorrow press\u2019d\nAs, in peculiar, Jove assigns to me?\nMe only, of all ocean-nymphs, he made\nSpouse to a man, Peleus \u00c6acides,535\nWhose bed, although reluctant and perforce,\nI yet endured to share. He now, the prey\nOf cheerless age, decrepid lies, and Jove\nStill other woes heaps on my wretched head.\nHe gave me to bring forth, gave me to rear540\nA son illustrious, valiant, and the chief\nOf heroes; he, like a luxuriant plant\nUpran[9] to manhood, while his lusty growth\nI nourish\u2019d as the husbandman his vine\nSet in a fruitful field, and being grown545\nI sent him early in his gallant fleet\nEmbark\u2019d, to combat with the sons of Troy;\nBut him from fight return\u2019d I shall receive,\nBeneath the roof of Peleus, never more,\nAnd while he lives and on the sun his eyes550\nOpens, affliction is his certain doom,\nNor aid resides or remedy in me.\nThe virgin, his own portion of the spoils,\nAllotted to him by the Grecians\u2014her\nAtrides, King of men, resumed, and grief555\nDevour\u2019d Achilles\u2019 spirit for her sake.\nMeantime, the Trojans shutting close within\nTheir camp the Grecians, have forbidden them\nAll egress, and the senators of Greece\nHave sought with splendid gifts to soothe my son.560\nHe, indisposed to rescue them himself\nFrom ruin, sent, instead, Patroclus forth,\nClad in his own resplendent armor, Chief\nOf the whole host of Myrmidons. Before\nThe Sc\u00e6an gate from morn to eve they fought,565\nAnd on that self-same day had Ilium fallen,\nBut that Apollo, to advance the fame\nOf Hector, slew Men\u0153tius\u2019 noble son\nFull-flush\u2019d with victory. Therefore at thy knees\nSuppliant I fall, imploring from thine art570\nA shield and helmet, greaves of shapely form\nWith clasps secured, and corselet for my son.\nFor those, once his, his faithful friend hath lost,\nSlain by the Trojans, and Achilles lies,\nHimself, extended mournful on the ground.575\n  Her answer\u2019d then the artist of the skies.\nCourage! Perplex not with these cares thy soul.\nI would that when his fatal hour shall come,\nI could as sure secrete him from the stroke\nOf destiny, as he shall soon have arms580\nIllustrious, such as each particular man\nOf thousands, seeing them, shall wish his own.\n  He said, and to his bellows quick repair\u2019d,\nWhich turning to the fire he bade them heave.\nFull twenty bellows working all at once595\nBreathed on the furnace, blowing easy and free\nThe managed winds, now forcible, as best\nSuited dispatch, now gentle, if the will\nOf Vulcan and his labor so required.\nImpenetrable brass, tin, silver, gold,590\nHe cast into the forge, then, settling firm\nHis ponderous anvil on the block, one hand\nWith his huge hammer fill\u2019d, one with the tongs.\n  [10]He fashion\u2019d first a shield massy and broad\nOf labor exquisite, for which he form\u2019d595\nA triple border beauteous, dazzling bright,\nAnd loop\u2019d it with a silver brace behind.\nThe shield itself with five strong folds he forged,\nAnd with devices multiform the disk\nCapacious charged, toiling with skill divine.600\n  There he described the earth, the heaven, the sea,\nThe sun that rests not, and the moon full-orb\u2019d.\nThere also, all the stars which round about\nAs with a radiant frontlet bind the skies,\nThe Pleiads and the Hyads, and the might605\nOf huge Orion, with him Ursa call\u2019d,\nKnown also by his popular name, the Wain,\nThat spins around the pole looking toward\nOrion, only star of these denied\nTo slake his beams in ocean\u2019s briny baths.610\n  Two splendid cities also there he form\u2019d\nSuch as men build. In one were to be seen\nRites matrimonial solemnized with pomp\nOf sumptuous banquets; from their chambers forth\nLeading the brides they usher\u2019d them along615\nWith torches through the streets, and sweet was heard\nThe voice around of Hymen\u00e6al song.\nHere striplings danced in circles to the sound\nOf pipe and harp, while in the portals stood\nWomen, admiring, all, the gallant show.620\nElsewhere was to be seen in council met\nThe close-throng\u2019d multitude. There strife arose.\nTwo citizens contended for a mulct\nThe price of blood. This man affirm\u2019d the fine\nAll paid,[11] haranguing vehement the crowd,625\nThat man denied that he had aught received,\nAnd to the judges each made his appeal\nEager for their award. Meantime the people,\nAs favor sway\u2019d them, clamor\u2019d loud for each.\nThe heralds quell\u2019d the tumult; reverend sat630\nOn polish\u2019d stones the elders in a ring,\nEach with a herald\u2019s sceptre in his hand,\nWhich holding they arose, and all in turn\nGave sentence. In the midst two talents lay\nOf gold, his destined recompense whose voice635\nDecisive should pronounce the best award.\nThe other city by two glittering hosts\nInvested stood, and a dispute arose\nBetween the hosts, whether to burn the town\nAnd lay all waste, or to divide the spoil.640\nMeantime, the citizens, still undismay\u2019d,\nSurrender\u2019d not the town, but taking arms\nSecretly, set the ambush in array,\nAnd on the walls their wives and children kept\nVigilant guard, with all the ancient men.645\nThey sallied; at their head Pallas and Mars\nBoth golden and in golden vests attired\nAdvanced, proportion each showing divine,\nLarge, prominent, and such as Gods beseem\u2019d.\nNot such the people, but of humbler size.650\nArriving at the spot for ambush chosen,\nA river\u2019s side, where cattle of each kind\nDrank, down they sat, all arm\u2019d in dazzling brass.\nApart from all the rest sat also down\nTwo spies, both looking for the flocks and herds.655\nSoon they appear\u2019d, and at their side were seen\nTwo shepherd swains, each playing on his pipe\nCareless, and of the danger nought apprized,\nSwift ran the spies, perceiving their approach,\nAnd intercepting suddenly the herds660\nAnd flocks of silver fleece, slew also those\nWho fed them. The besiegers, at that time\nIn council, by the sound alarm\u2019d, their steeds\nMounted, and hasted, instant, to the place;\nThen, standing on the river\u2019s brink they fought665\nAnd push\u2019d each other with the brazen lance.\nThere Discord raged, there Tumult, and the force\nOf ruthless Destiny; she now a Chief\nSeized newly wounded, and now captive held\nAnother yet unhurt, and now a third670\nDragg\u2019d breathless through the battle by his feet\nAnd all her garb was dappled thick with blood\nLike living men they traversed and they strove,\nAnd dragg\u2019d by turns the bodies of the slain.\n  He also graved on it a fallow field675\nRich, spacious, and well-till\u2019d. Plowers not few,\nThere driving to and fro their sturdy teams,\nLabor\u2019d the land; and oft as in their course\nThey came to the field\u2019s bourn, so oft a man\nMet them, who in their hands a goblet placed680\nCharged with delicious wine. They, turning, wrought\nEach his own furrow, and impatient seem\u2019d\nTo reach the border of the tilth, which black\nAppear\u2019d behind them as a glebe new-turn\u2019d,\nThough golden. Sight to be admired by all!685\n  There too he form\u2019d the likeness of a field\nCrowded with corn, in which the reapers toil\u2019d\nEach with a sharp-tooth\u2019d sickle in his hand.\nAlong the furrow here, the harvest fell\nIn frequent handfuls, there, they bound the sheaves.690\nThree binders of the sheaves their sultry task\nAll plied industrious, and behind them boys\nAttended, filling with the corn their arms\nAnd offering still their bundles to be bound.\nAmid them, staff in hand, the master stood695\nSilent exulting, while beneath an oak\nApart, his heralds busily prepared\nThe banquet, dressing a well-thriven ox\nNew slain, and the attendant maidens mix\u2019d\nLarge supper for the hinds of whitest flour.700\n  There also, laden with its fruit he form\u2019d\nA vineyard all of gold; purple he made\nThe clusters, and the vines supported stood\nBy poles of silver set in even rows.\nThe trench he color\u2019d sable, and around705\nFenced it with tin. One only path it show\u2019d\nBy which the gatherers when they stripp\u2019d the vines\nPass\u2019d and repass\u2019d. There, youths and maidens blithe\nIn frails of wicker bore the luscious fruit,\nWhile, in the midst, a boy on his shrill harp710\nHarmonious play\u2019d, still as he struck the chord\nCarolling to it with a slender voice.\nThey smote the ground together, and with song\nAnd sprightly reed came dancing on behind.[12]\n  There too a herd he fashion\u2019d of tall beeves715\nPart gold, part tin. They, lowing, from the stalls\nRush\u2019d forth to pasture by a river-side\nRapid, sonorous, fringed with whispering reeds.\nFour golden herdsmen drove the kine a-field\nBy nine swift dogs attended. Dreadful sprang720\nTwo lions forth, and of the foremost herd\nSeized fast a bull. Him bellowing they dragg\u2019d,\nWhile dogs and peasants all flew to his aid.\nThe lions tore the hide of the huge prey\nAnd lapp\u2019d his entrails and his blood. Meantime725\nThe herdsmen, troubling them in vain, their hounds\nEncouraged; but no tooth for lions\u2019 flesh\nFound they, and therefore stood aside and bark\u2019d.\n  There also, the illustrious smith divine\nAmidst a pleasant grove a pasture form\u2019d730\nSpacious, and sprinkled o\u2019er with silver sheep\nNumerous, and stalls and huts and shepherds\u2019 tents.\n  To these the glorious artist added next,\nWith various skill delineated exact,\nA labyrinth for the dance, such as of old735\nIn Crete\u2019s broad island D\u00e6dalus composed\nFor bright-hair\u2019d Ariadne.[13] There the youths\nAnd youth-alluring maidens, hand in hand,\nDanced jocund, every maiden neat-attired\nIn finest linen, and the youths in vests740\nWell-woven, glossy as the glaze of oil.\nThese all wore garlands, and bright falchions, those,\nOf burnish\u2019d gold in silver trappings hung:\u2014[14]\nThey with well-tutor\u2019d step, now nimbly ran\nThe circle, swift, as when, before his wheel745\nSeated, the potter twirls it with both hands\nFor trial of its speed,[15] now, crossing quick\nThey pass\u2019d at once into each other\u2019s place.\nOn either side spectators numerous stood\nDelighted, and two tumblers roll\u2019d themselves750\nBetween the dancers, singing as they roll\u2019d.\n  Last, with the might of ocean\u2019s boundless flood\nHe fill\u2019d the border of the wondrous shield.\n  When thus the massy shield magnificent\nHe had accomplish\u2019d, for the hero next755\nHe forged, more ardent than the blaze of fire,\nA corselet; then, a ponderous helmet bright\nWell fitted to his brows, crested with gold,\nAnd with laborious art divine adorn\u2019d.\nHe also made him greaves of molten tin.760\n  The armor finish\u2019d, bearing in his hand\nThe whole, he set it down at Thetis\u2019 feet.\nShe, like a falcon from the snowy top\nStoop\u2019d of Olympus, bearing to the earth\nThe dazzling wonder, fresh from Vulcan\u2019s hand.765\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XIX.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE NINETEENTH BOOK.\n\nAchilles is reconciled to Agamemnon, and clothed in new armor forged by\nVulcan, leads out the Myrmidons to battle.\n\n\nBOOK XIX.\n\n\nNow rose the morn in saffron vest attired\nFrom ocean, with new day for Gods and men,\nWhen Thetis at the fleet of Greece arrived,\nBearing that gift divine. She found her son\nAll tears, and close enfolding in his arms5\nPatroclus, while his Myrmidons around\nWept also;[1] she amid them, graceful, stood,\nAnd seizing fast his hand, him thus bespake.\n  Although our loss be great, yet, oh my son!\nLeave we Patroclus lying on the bier10\nTo which the Gods ordain\u2019d him from the first.\nReceive from Vulcan\u2019s hands these glorious arms,\nSuch as no mortal shoulders ever bore.\n  So saying, she placed the armor on the ground\nBefore him, and the whole bright treasure rang.15\nA tremor shook the Myrmidons; none dared\nLook on it, but all fled. Not so himself.\nIn him fresh vengeance kindled at the view,\nAnd, while he gazed, a splendor as of fire\nFlash\u2019d from his eyes. Delighted, in his hand20\nHe held the glorious bounty of the God,\nAnd, wondering at those strokes of art divine,\nHis eager speech thus to his mother turn\u2019d.[2]\n  The God, my mother! hath bestow\u2019d in truth\nSuch armor on me as demanded skill25\nLike his, surpassing far all power of man.\nNow, therefore, I will arm. But anxious fears\nTrouble me, lest intrusive flies, meantime,\nBreed worms within the spear-inflicted wounds\nOf Men\u0153tiades, and fill with taint30\nOf putrefaction his whole breathless form.[3]\n  But him the silver-footed Goddess fair\nThus answer\u2019d. Oh, my son! chase from thy mind\nAll such concern. I will, myself, essay\nTo drive the noisome swarms which on the slain35\nIn battle feed voracious. Should he lie\nThe year complete, his flesh shall yet be found\nUntainted, and, it may be, fragrant too.\nBut thou the heroes of Achaia\u2019s host\nConvening, in their ears thy wrath renounce40\nAgainst the King of men, then, instant, arm\nFor battle, and put on thy glorious might.\n  So saying, the Goddess raised his courage high.\nThen, through the nostrils of the dead she pour\u2019d\nAmbrosia, and the ruddy juice divine45\nOf nectar, antidotes against decay.\n  And now forth went Achilles by the side\nOf ocean, calling with a dreadful shout\nTo council all the heroes of the host.[4]\nThen, even they who in the fleet before50\nConstant abode, helmsmen and those who held\nIn stewardship the food and public stores,\nAll flock\u2019d to council, for that now at length\nAfter long abstinence from dread exploits\nOf war, Achilles had once more appear\u2019d.55\nTwo went together, halting on the spear,\n(For still they felt the anguish of their wounds)\nNoble Ulysses and brave Diomede,\nAnd took an early seat; whom follow\u2019d last\nThe King of men, by Co\u00f6n in the field60\nOf furious battle wounded with a lance.\nThe Grecians all assembled, in the midst\nUpstood the swift Achilles, and began.\n  Atrides! we had doubtless better sped\nBoth thou and I, thus doing, when at first65\nWith cruel rage we burn\u2019d, a girl the cause.\nI would that Dian\u2019s shaft had in the fleet\nSlain her that self-same day when I destroy\u2019d\nLyrnessus, and by conquest made her mine!\nThen had not many a Grecian, lifeless now,70\nClench\u2019d with his teeth the ground, victim, alas!\nOf my revenge; whence triumph hath accrued\nTo Hector and his host, while ours have cause\nFor long remembrance of our mutual strife.\nBut evils past let pass, yielding perforce75\nTo sad necessity. My wrath shall cease\nNow; I resign it; it hath burn\u2019d too long.\nThou therefore summon forth the host to fight,\nThat I may learn meeting them in the field,\nIf still the Trojans purpose at our fleet80\nTo watch us this night also. But I judge\nThat driven by my spear to rapid flight,\nThey shall escape with weary limbs[5] at least.\n  He ended, and the Grecians brazen-greaved\nRejoiced that Peleus\u2019 mighty son had cast85\nHis wrath aside. Then not into the midst\nProceeding, but at his own seat, upstood\nKing Agamemnon, and them thus bespake.\n\n  Friends! Grecian heroes! Ministers of Mars!\nArise who may to speak, he claims your ear;90\nAll interruption wrongs him, and distracts,\nHowe\u2019er expert the speaker. Who can hear\nAmid the roar of tumult, or who speak?\nThe clearest voice, best utterance, both are vain\nI shall address Achilles. Hear my speech95\nYe Argives, and with understanding mark.\nI hear not now the voice of your reproach[6]\nFirst; ye have oft condemn\u2019d me. Yet the blame\nRests not with me; Jove, Destiny, and she\nWho roams the shades, Erynnis, caused the offence.100\nShe fill\u2019d my soul with fury on that day\nIn council, when I seized Achilles\u2019 prize.\nFor what could I? All things obey the Gods.\nAte, pernicious Power, daughter of Jove,\nBy whom all suffer, challenges from all105\nReverence and fear. Delicate are her feet\nWhich scorn the ground, and over human heads\nShe glides, injurious to the race of man,\nOf two who strive, at least entangling one.\nShe injured, on a day, dread Jove himself110\nMost excellent of all in earth or heaven,\nWhen Juno, although female, him deceived,\nWhat time Alcmena should have brought to light\nIn bulwark\u2019d Thebes the force of Hercules.\nThen Jove, among the gods glorying, spake.115\n  Hear all! both Gods and Goddesses, attend!\nThat I may make my purpose known. This day\nBirth-pang-dispensing Ilithya brings\nAn hero forth to light, who, sprung from those\nThat sprang from me, his empire shall extend120\nOver all kingdoms bordering on his own.\n  To whom, designing fraud, Juno replied.\nThou wilt be found false, and this word of thine\nShall want performance. But Olympian Jove!\nSwear now the inviolable oath, that he125\nWho shall, this day, fall from between the feet\nOf woman, drawing his descent from thee,\nShall rule all kingdoms bordering on his own.\n  She said, and Jove, suspecting nought her wiles,\nThe great oath swore, to his own grief and wrong.130\nAt once from the Olympian summit flew\nJuno, and to Achaian Argos borne,\nThere sought the noble wife[7] of Sthenelus,\nOffspring of Perseus. Pregnant with a son\nSix months, she now the seventh saw at hand,135\nBut him the Goddess premature produced,\nAnd check\u2019d Alcmena\u2019s pangs already due.\nThen joyful to have so prevail\u2019d, she bore\nHerself the tidings to Saturnian Jove.\n  Lord of the candent lightnings! Sire of all!140\nI bring thee tidings. The great prince, ordain\u2019d\nTo rule the Argive race, this day is born,\nEurystheus, son of Sthenelus, the son\nOf Perseus; therefore he derives from thee,\nNor shall the throne of Argos shame his birth.145\n  She spake; then anguish stung the heart of Jove\nDeeply, and seizing by her glossy locks\nThe Goddess Ate, in his wrath he swore\nThat never to the starry skies again\nAnd the Olympian heights he would permit150\nThe universal mischief to return.\nThen, whirling her around, he cast her down\nTo earth. She, mingling with all works of men,\nCaused many a pang to Jove, who saw his son\nLaborious tasks servile, and of his birth155\nUnworthy, at Eurystheus\u2019 will enjoin\u2019d.\n  So when the hero Hector at our ships\nSlew us, I then regretted my offence\nWhich Ate first impell\u2019d me to commit.\nBut since, infatuated by the Gods160\nI err\u2019d, behold me ready to appease\nWith gifts of price immense whom I have wrong\u2019d.\nThou, then, arise to battle, and the host\nRouse also. Not a promise yesternight\nWas made thee by Ulysses in thy tent165\nOn my behalf, but shall be well perform\u2019d.\nOr if it please thee, though impatient, wait\nShort season, and my train shall bring the gifts\nEven now; that thou may\u2019st understand and know\nThat my peace-offerings are indeed sincere.170\n  To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.\nAtrides! Agamemnon! passing all\nIn glory! King of men! recompense just\nBy gifts to make me, or to make me none,\nThat rests with thee. But let us to the fight175\nIncontinent. It is no time to play\nThe game of rhetoric, and to waste the hours\nIn speeches. Much remains yet unperform\u2019d.\nAchilles must go forth. He must be seen\nOnce more in front of battle, wasting wide180\nWith brazen spear, the crowded ranks of Troy.\nMark him\u2014and as he fights, fight also ye.\n  To whom Ulysses ever-wise replied.\nNay\u2014urge not, valiant as thou art thyself,\nAchaia\u2019s sons up to the battlements185\nOf Ilium, by repast yet unrefresh\u2019d,\nGodlike Achilles!\u2014For when phalanx once\nShall clash with phalanx, and the Gods with rage\nBoth hosts inspire, the contest shall not then\nProve short. Bid rather the Achaians take190\nBoth food and wine, for they are strength and might.\nTo stand all day till sunset to a foe\nOpposed in battle, fasting, were a task\nMight foil the best; for though his will be prompt\nTo combat, yet the power must by degrees195\nForsake him; thirst and hunger he must feel,\nAnd his limbs failing him at every step.\nBut he who hath his vigor to the full\nFed with due nourishment, although he fight\nAll day, yet feels his courage unimpair\u2019d,200\nNor weariness perceives till all retire.\nCome then\u2014dismiss the people with command\nThat each prepare replenishment. Meantime\nLet Agamemnon, King of men, his gifts\nIn presence here of the assembled Greeks205\nProduce, that all may view them, and that thou\nMay\u2019st feel thine own heart gladden\u2019d at the sight.\nLet the King also, standing in the midst,\nSwear to thee, that he renders back the maid\nA virgin still, and strange to his embrace,210\nAnd let thy own composure prove, the while,\nThat thou art satisfied. Last, let him spread\nA princely banquet for thee in his tent,\nThat thou may\u2019st want no part of just amends.\nThou too, Atrides, shalt hereafter prove215\nMore just to others; for himself, a King,\nStoops not too low, soothing whom he hath wrong\u2019d.\n  Him Agamemnon answer\u2019d, King of men.\nThou hast arranged wisely the whole concern,\nO L\u00e4ertiades, and I have heard220\nThy speech, both words and method with delight.\nWilling I am, yea more, I wish to swear\nAs thou hast said, for by the Gods I can\nMost truly. Let Achilles, though of pause\nImpatient, suffer yet a short delay225\nWith all assembled here, till from my tent\nThe gifts arrive, and oaths of peace be sworn.\nTo thee I give it in peculiar charge\nThat choosing forth the most illustrious youths\nOf all Achaia, thou produce the gifts230\nfrom my own ship, all those which yesternight\nWe promised, nor the women leave behind.\nAnd let Talthybius throughout all the camp\nOf the Achaians, instant, seek a boar\nFor sacrifice to Jove and to the Sun.235\n  Then thus Achilles matchless in the race.\nAtrides! most illustrious! King of men!\nExpedience bids us to these cares attend\nHereafter, when some pause, perchance, of fight\nShall happen, and the martial rage which fires240\nMy bosom now, shall somewhat less be felt.\nOur friends by Priameian Hector slain,\nNow strew the field mangled, for him hath Jove\nExalted high, and given him great renown.\nBut haste, now take refreshment; though, in truth245\nMight I direct, the host should by all means\nUnfed to battle, and at set of sun\nAll sup together, this affront revenged.\nBut as for me, no drop shall pass my lips\nOr morsel, whose companion lies with feet250\nTurn\u2019d to the vestibule, pierced by the spear,\nAnd compass\u2019d by my weeping train around.\nNo want of food feel I. My wishes call\nFor carnage, blood, and agonies and groans.\n  But him, excelling in all wisdom, thus255\nUlysses answer\u2019d. Oh Achilles! son\nOf Peleus! bravest far of all our host!\nMe, in no scanty measure, thou excell\u2019st\nWielding the spear, and thee in prudence, I\nNot less. For I am elder, and have learn\u2019d260\nWhat thou hast yet to learn. Bid then thine heart\nEndure with patience to be taught by me.\nMen, satiate soon with battle, loathe the field\nOn which the most abundant harvest falls,\nReap\u2019d by the sword; and when the hand of Jove265\nDispenser of the great events of war,\nTurns once the scale, then, farewell every hope\nOf more than scanty gleanings. Shall the Greeks\nAbstain from sustenance for all who die?\nThat were indeed severe, since day by day270\nNo few expire, and respite could be none.\nThe dead, die whoso may, should be inhumed.\nThis, duty bids, but bids us also deem\nOne day sufficient for our sighs and tears.\nOurselves, all we who still survive the war,275\nHave need of sustenance, that we may bear\nThe lengthen\u2019d conflict with recruited might,\nCase in enduring brass.\u2014Ye all have heard\nYour call to battle; let none lingering stand\nIn expectation of a farther call,280\nWhich if it sound, shall thunder prove to him\nWho lurks among the ships. No. Rush we all\nTogether forth, for contest sharp prepared,\nAnd persevering with the host of Troy.\n  So saying, the sons of Nestor, glorious Chief,285\nHe chose, with Meges Phyleus\u2019 noble son,\nThoas, Meriones, and Melanippus\nAnd Lycomedes. These, together, sought\nThe tent of Agamemnon, King of men.\nThey ask\u2019d, and they received. Soon they produced290\nThe seven promised tripods from the tent,\nTwice ten bright caldrons, twelve high-mettled steeds,\nSeven lovely captives skill\u2019d alike in arts\nDomestic, of unblemish\u2019d beauty rare,\nAnd last, Bris\u00ebis with the blooming cheeks.295\nBefore them went Ulysses, bearing weigh\u2019d\nTen golden talents, whom the chosen Greeks\nAttended laden with the remnant gifts.\nFull in the midst they placed them. Then arose\nKing Agamemnon, and Talthybius300\nThe herald, clear in utterance as a God,\nBeside him stood, holding the victim boar.\nAtrides, drawing forth his dagger bright,\nAppendant ever to his sword\u2019s huge sheath,\nSever\u2019d the bristly forelock of the boar,305\nA previous offering. Next, with lifted hands\nTo Jove he pray\u2019d, while, all around, the Greeks\nSat listening silent to the Sovereign\u2019s voice.\nHe look\u2019d to the wide heaven, and thus he pray\u2019d.\n  First, Jove be witness! of all Powers above310\nBest and supreme; Earth next, and next the Sun!\nAnd last, who under Earth the guilt avenge\nOf oaths sworn falsely, let the Furies hear!\nFor no respect of amorous desire\nOr other purpose, have I laid mine hand315\nOn fair Bris\u00ebis, but within my tent\nUntouch\u2019d, immaculate she hath remain\u2019d.\nAnd if I falsely swear, then may the Gods\nThe many woes with which they mark the crime\nOf men forsworn, pour also down on me!320\n  So saying, he pierced the victim in his throat\nAnd, whirling him around, Talthybius, next,\nCast him into the ocean, fishes\u2019 food.[8]\nThen, in the centre of Achaia\u2019s sons\nUprose Achilles, and thus spake again.325\n  Jove! Father! dire calamities, effects\nOf thy appointment, fall on human-kind.\nNever had Agamemnon in my breast\nSuch anger kindled, never had he seized,\nBlinded by wrath, and torn my prize away,330\nBut that the slaughter of our numerous friends\nWhich thence ensued, thou hadst, thyself, ordained.\nNow go, ye Grecians, eat, and then to battle.\n  So saying, Achilles suddenly dissolved\nThe hasty council, and all flew dispersed335\nTo their own ships. Then took the Myrmidons\nThose splendid gifts which in the tent they lodged\nOf swift Achilles, and the damsels led\nEach to a seat, while others of his train\nDrove forth the steeds to pasture with his herd.340\nBut when Bris\u00ebis, bright as Venus, saw\nPatroclus lying mangled by the spear,\nEnfolding him around, she shriek\u2019d and tore\nHer bosom, her smooth neck and beauteous cheeks.\nThen thus, divinely fair, with tears she said.345\n  Ah, my Patroclus! dearest friend of all\nTo hapless me, departing from this tent\nI left thee living, and now, generous Chief!\nRestored to it again, here find thee dead.\nHow rapid in succession are my woes!350\nI saw, myself, the valiant prince to whom\nMy parents had betroth\u2019d me, slain before\nOur city walls; and my three brothers, sons\nOf my own mother, whom with long regret\nI mourn, fell also in that dreadful field.355\nBut when the swift Achilles slew the prince\nDesign\u2019d my spouse, and the fair city sack\u2019d\nOf noble Mynes, thou by every art\nOf tender friendship didst forbid my tears,\nPromising oft that thou would\u2019st make me bride360\nOf Peleus\u2019 godlike son, that thy own ship\nShould waft me hence to Phthia, and that thyself\nWould\u2019st furnish forth among the Myrmidons\nOur nuptial feast. Therefore thy death I mourn\nCeaseless, for thou wast ever kind to me.365\n  She spake, and all her fellow-captives heaved\nResponsive sighs, deploring each, in show,\nThe dead Patroclus, but, in truth, herself.[9]\nThen the Achaian Chiefs gather\u2019d around\nAchilles, wooing him to eat, but he370\nGroan\u2019d and still resolute, their suit refused\u2014\n  If I have here a friend on whom by prayers\nI may prevail, I pray that ye desist,\nNor longer press me, mourner as I am,\nTo eat or drink, for till the sun go down375\nI am inflexible, and _will_ abstain.\n  So saying, the other princes he dismiss\u2019d\nImpatient, but the sons of Atreus both,\nUlysses, Nestor and Idomeneus,\nWith Ph\u0153nix, hoary warrior, in his tent380\nAbiding still, with cheerful converse kind\nEssay\u2019d to soothe him, whose afflicted soul\nAll soothing scorn\u2019d till he should once again\nRush on the ravening edge of bloody war.\nThen, mindful of his friend, groaning he said385\n  Time was, unhappiest, dearest of my friends!\nWhen even thou, with diligent dispatch,\nThyself, hast spread a table in my tent,\nThe hour of battle drawing nigh between\nThe Greeks and warlike Trojans. But there lies390\nThy body now, gored by the ruthless steel,\nAnd for thy sake I neither eat nor drink,\nThough dearth be none, conscious that other wo\nSurpassing this I can have none to fear.\nNo, not if tidings of my father\u2019s death395\nShould reach me, who, this moment, weeps, perhaps,\nIn Phthia tears of tenderest regret\nFor such a son; while I, remote from home\nFight for detested Helen under Troy.\nNor even were _he_ dead, whom, if he live,400\nI rear in Scyros, my own darling son,\nMy Neoptolemus of form divine.[10]\nFor still this hope I cherish\u2019d in my breast\nTill now, that, of us two, myself alone\nShould fall at Ilium, and that thou, restored405\nTo Phthia, should\u2019st have wafted o\u2019er the waves\nMy son from Scyros to his native home,\nThat thou might\u2019st show him all his heritage,\nMy train of menials, and my fair abode.\nFor either dead already I account410\nPeleus, or doubt not that his residue\nOf miserable life shall soon be spent,\nThrough stress of age and expectation sad\nThat tidings of my death shall, next, arrive.\n  So spake Achilles weeping, around whom415\nThe Chiefs all sigh\u2019d, each with remembrance pain\u2019d\nOf some loved object left at home. Meantime\nJove, with compassion moved, their sorrow saw,\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents thus to Pallas spake.\n\n  Daughter! thou hast abandon\u2019d, as it seems,420\nYon virtuous Chief for ever; shall no care\nThy mind engage of brave Achilles more?\nBefore his gallant fleet mourning he sits\nHis friend, disconsolate; the other Greeks\nSat and are satisfied; he only fasts.425\nGo then\u2014instil nectar into his breast,\nAnd sweets ambrosial, that he hunger not.\n  So saying, he urged Minerva prompt before.\nIn form a shrill-voiced Harpy of long wing\nThrough ether down she darted, while the Greeks430\nIn all their camp for instant battle arm\u2019d.\nAmbrosial sweets and nectar she instill\u2019d\nInto his breast, lest he should suffer loss\nOf strength through abstinence, then soar\u2019d again\nTo her great Sire\u2019s unperishing abode.435\nAnd now the Grecians from their gallant fleet\nAll pour\u2019d themselves abroad. As when thick snow\nFrom Jove descends, driven by impetuous gusts\nOf the cloud-scattering North, so frequent shone\nIssuing from the fleet the dazzling casques,440\nBoss\u2019d bucklers, hauberks strong, and ashen spears.\nUpwent the flash to heaven; wide all around\nThe champain laugh\u2019d with beamy brass illumed,\nAnd tramplings of the warriors on all sides\nResounded, amidst whom Achilles arm\u2019d.445\nHe gnash\u2019d his teeth, fire glimmer\u2019d in his eyes,\nAnguish intolerable wrung his heart\nAnd fury against Troy, while he put on\nHis glorious arms, the labor of a God.\nFirst, to his legs his polish\u2019d greaves he clasp\u2019d450\nStudded with silver, then his corselet bright\nBraced to his bosom, his huge sword of brass\nAthwart his shoulder slung, and his broad shield\nUplifted last, luminous as the moon.\nSuch as to mariners a fire appears,455\nKindled by shepherds on the distant top\nOf some lone hill; they, driven by stormy winds,\nReluctant roam far off the fishy deep,\nSuch from Achilles\u2019 burning shield divine\nA lustre struck the skies; his ponderous helm460\nHe lifted to his brows; starlike it shone,\nAnd shook its curling crest of bushy gold,\nBy Vulcan taught to wave profuse around.\nSo clad, godlike Achilles trial made\nIf his arms fitted him, and gave free scope465\nTo his proportion\u2019d limbs; buoyant they proved\nAs wings, and high upbore his airy tread.\nHe drew his father\u2019s spear forth from his case,\nHeavy and huge and long. That spear, of all\nAchaia\u2019s sons, none else had power to wield;470\nAchilles only could the Pelian spear\nBrandish, by Chiron for his father hewn\nFrom Pelion\u2019s top for slaughter of the brave.\nHis coursers, then, Automedon prepared\nAnd Alcimus, adjusting diligent475\nThe fair caparisons; they thrust the bits\nInto their mouths, and to the chariot seat\nExtended and made fast the reins behind.\nThe splendid scourge commodious to the grasp\nSeizing, at once Automedon upsprang480\nInto his place; behind him, arm\u2019d complete\nAchilles mounted, as the orient sun\nAll dazzling, and with awful tone his speech\nDirected to the coursers of his Sire.\n  Xanthus, and Balius of Podarges\u2019 blood485\nIllustrious! see ye that, the battle done,\nYe bring whom now ye bear back to the host\nOf the Achaians in far other sort,\nNor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, dead.[11]\nHim then his steed unconquer\u2019d in the race,490\nXanthus answer\u2019d from beneath his yoke,\nBut, hanging low his head, and with his mane\nDishevell\u2019d all, and streaming to the ground.\nHim Juno vocal made, Goddess white-arm\u2019d.\n  And doubtless so we will. This day at least495\nWe bear thee safe from battle, stormy Chief!\nBut thee the hour of thy destruction swift\nApproaches, hasten\u2019d by no fault of ours,\nBut by the force of fate and power divine.\nFor not through sloth or tardiness on us500\nAught chargeable, have Ilium\u2019s sons thine arms\nStript from Patroclus\u2019 shoulders, but a God\nMatchless in battle, offspring of bright-hair\u2019d\nLatona, him contending in the van\nSlew, for the glory of the Chief of Troy.505\nWe, Zephyrus himself, though by report\nSwiftest of all the winds of heaven, in speed\nCould equal, but the Fates thee also doom\nBy human hands to fall, and hands divine.\n  The interposing Furies at that word510\nSuppress\u2019d his utterance,[12] and indignant, thus,\nAchilles, swiftest of the swift, replied.\n  Why, Xanthus, propheciest thou my death?\nIt ill beseems thee. I already know\nThat from my parents far remote my doom515\nAppoints me here to die; yet not the more\nCease I from feats if arms, till Ilium\u2019s host\nShall have received, at length, their fill of war.\n  He said, and with a shout drove forth to battle.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XX.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWENTIETH BOOK.\n\nBy permission of Jupiter the Gods descend into the battle, and range\nthemselves on either side respectively. Neptune rescues \u00c6neas from\ndeath by the hand of Achilles, from whom Apollo, soon after, rescues\nHector. Achilles slays many Trojans.\n\n\nBOOK XX.\n\n\nThe Grecians, thus, before their lofty ships\nStood arm\u2019d around Achilles, glorious Chief\nInsatiable with war, and opposite\nThe Trojans on the rising-ground appear\u2019d.[1]\nMeantime, Jove order\u2019d Themis, from the head5\nOf the deep-fork\u2019d Olympian to convene\nThe Gods in council. She to every part\nProceeding, bade them to the courts of Jove.[2]\nNor of the Floods was any absent thence\nOceanus except, or of the Nymphs10\nWho haunt the pleasant groves, or dwell beside\nStream-feeding fountains, or in meadows green.\nWithin the courts of cloud-assembler Jove\nArrived, on pillar\u2019d thrones radiant they sat,\nWith ingenuity divine contrived15\nBy Vulcan for the mighty Sire of all.\nThus they within the Thunderer\u2019s palace sat\nAssembled; nor was Neptune slow to hear\nThe voice of Themis, but (the billows left)\nCame also; in the midst his seat he took,20\nAnd ask\u2019d, incontinent, the mind of Jove.[3]\n  King of the lightnings! wherefore hast thou call\u2019d\nThe Gods to council? Hast thou aught at heart\nImportant to the hosts of Greece and Troy?\nFor on the battle\u2019s fiery edge they stand.25\n  To whom replied Jove, Sovereign of the storms,\nThou know\u2019st my council, Shaker of the shores!\nAnd wherefore ye are call\u2019d. Although ordain\u2019d\nSo soon to die, they interest me still.\nMyself, here seated on Olympus\u2019 top,30\nWith contemplation will my mind indulge\nOf yon great spectacle; but ye, the rest,\nDescend into the field, Trojan or Greek\nEach to assist, as each shall most incline.\nFor should Achilles in the field no foe35\nFind save the Trojans, quickly should they fly\nBefore the rapid force of Peleus\u2019 son.\nThey trembled ever at his look, and since\nSuch fury for his friend hath fired his heart,\nI fear lest he anticipate the will40\nOf Fate, and Ilium perish premature.\n  So spake the son of Saturn kindling war\nInevitable, and the Gods to fight\n\u2019Gan move with minds discordant. Juno sought\nAnd Pallas, with the earth-encircling Power45\nNeptune, the Grecian fleet, with whom were join\u2019d\nMercury, teacher of all useful arts,\nAnd Vulcan, rolling on all sides his eyes\nTremendous, but on disproportion\u2019d legs,\nNot without labor hard, halting uncouth.50\nMars, warrior-God, on Ilium\u2019s part appear\u2019d\nWith Ph\u0153bus never-shorn, Dian shaft-arm\u2019d,\nXanthus, Latona, and the Queen of smiles,\nVenus. So long as the immortal Gods\nMixed not with either host, Achaia\u2019s sons55\nExulted, seeing, after tedious pause,\nAchilles in the field, and terror shook\nThe knees of every Trojan, at the sight\nOf swift Achilles like another Mars\nPanting for blood, and bright in arms again.60\nBut when the Olympian Powers had enter\u2019d once\nThe multitude, then Discord, at whose voice\nThe million maddens, vehement arose;\nThen, Pallas at the trench without the wall\nBy turns stood shouting, and by turns a shout65\nSent terrible along the sounding shore,\nWhile, gloomy as a tempest, opposite,\nMars from the lofty citadel of Troy\nNow yell\u2019d aloud, now running o\u2019er the hill\nCallicolone, on the Simois\u2019 side.70\n  Thus the Immortals, ever-blest, impell\u2019d\nBoth hosts to battle, and dire inroad caused\nOf strife among them. Sudden from on high\nThe Sire of Gods and men thunder\u2019d; meantime,\nNeptune the earth and the high mountains shook;75\nThrough all her base and to her topmost peak\nIda spring-fed the agitation felt\nReeling, all Ilium and the fleet of Greece.\nUpstarted from his throne, appall\u2019d, the King\nOf Erebus, and with a cry his fears80\nThrough hell proclaim\u2019d, lest Neptune, o\u2019er his head\nShattering the vaulted earth, should wide disclose\nTo mortal and immortal eyes his realm\nTerrible, squalid, to the Gods themselves\nA dreaded spectacle; with such a sound85\nThe Powers eternal into battle rush\u2019d.[4]\nOpposed to Neptune, King of the vast Deep,\nApollo stood with his wing\u2019d arrows arm\u2019d;\nPallas to Mars; Diana shaft-expert,\nSister of Ph\u0153bus, in her golden bow90\nRejoicing, with whose shouts the forests ring\nTo Juno; Mercury, for useful arts\nFamed, to Latona; and to Vulcan\u2019s force\nThe eddied River broad by mortal men\nScamander call\u2019d, but Xanthus by the Gods.95\n  So Gods encounter\u2019d Gods. But most desire\nAchilles felt, breaking the ranks, to rush\nOn Priameian Hector, with whose blood\nChiefly his fury prompted him to sate\nThe indefatigable God of war.100\nBut, the encourager of Ilium\u2019s host\nApollo, urged \u00c6neas to assail\nThe son of Peleus, with heroic might\nInspiring his bold heart. He feign\u2019d the voice\nOf Priam\u2019s son Lycaon, and his form105\nAssuming, thus the Trojan Chief address\u2019d.\n  \u00c6neas! Trojan leader! where are now\nThy vaunts, which, banqueting erewhile among\nOur princes, o\u2019er thy brimming cups thou mad\u2019st,\nThat thou would\u2019st fight, thyself, with Peleus\u2019 son?110\n  To whom \u00c6neas answer thus returned.\nOffspring of Priam! why enjoin\u2019st thou me\nNot so inclined, that arduous task, to cope\nWith the unmatch\u2019d Achilles? I have proved\nHis force already, when he chased me down115\nFrom Ida with his spear, what time he made\nSeizure of all our cattle, and destroy\u2019d\nPedasus and Lyrnessus; but I \u2019scaped\nUnslain, by Jove himself empower\u2019d to fly,\nElse had I fallen by Achilles\u2019 hand,120\nAnd by the hand of Pallas, who his steps\nConducted, and exhorted him to slay\nUs and the Leleges.[5] Vain, therefore, proves\nAll mortal force to Peleus\u2019 son opposed;\nFor one, at least, of the Immortals stands125\nEver beside him, guardian of his life,\nAnd, of himself, he hath an arm that sends\nHis rapid spear unerring to the mark.\nYet, would the Gods more equal sway the scales\nOf battle, not with ease should he subdue130\nMe, though he boast a panoply of brass.\n  Him, then, Apollo answer\u2019d, son of Jove.\nHero! prefer to the immortal Gods\nThy Prayer, for thee men rumor Venus\u2019 son\nDaughter of Jove; and Peleus\u2019 son his birth135\nDrew from a Goddess of inferior note.\nThy mother is from Jove; the offspring, his,\nLess noble of the hoary Ocean old.\nGo, therefore, and thy conquering spear uplift\nAgainst him, nor let aught his sounding words140\nAppal thee, or his threats turn thee away.\n  So saying, with martial force the Chief he fill\u2019d,\nWho through the foremost combatants advanced\nRadiant in arms. Nor pass\u2019d Anchises\u2019 son\nUnseen of Juno, through the crowded ranks145\nSeeking Achilles, but the Powers of heaven\nConvened by her command, she thus address\u2019d.\n  Neptune, and thou, Minerva! with mature\nDeliberation, ponder the event.\nYon Chief, \u00c6neas, dazzling bright in arms;150\nGoes to withstand Achilles, and he goes\nSent by Apollo; in despite of whom\nBe it our task to give him quick repulse,\nOr, of ourselves, let some propitious Power\nStrengthen Achilles with a mind exempt155\nFrom terror, and with force invincible.\nSo shall he know that of the Gods above\nThe mightiest are his friends, with whom compared\nThe favorers of Ilium in time past,\nWho stood her guardians in the bloody strife,160\nAre empty boasters all, and nothing worth.\nFor therefore came we down, that we may share\nThis fight, and that Achilles suffer nought\nFatal to-day, though suffer all he must\nHereafter, with his thread of life entwined165\nBy Destiny, the day when he was born.\nBut should Achilles unapprized remain\nOf such advantage by a voice divine,\nWhen he shall meet some Deity in the field,\nFear then will seize him, for celestial forms170\nUnveil\u2019d are terrible to mortal eyes.\n  To whom replied the Shaker of the shores.\nJuno! thy hot impatience needs control;\nIt ill befits thee. No desire I feel\nTo force into contention with ourselves175\nGods, our inferiors. No. Let us, retired\nTo yonder hill, distant from all resort,\nThere sit, while these the battle wage alone.\nBut if Apollo, or if Mars the fight\nEntering, begin, themselves, to interfere180\nAgainst Achilles, then will we at once\nTo battle also; and, I much misdeem,\nOr glad they shall be soon to mix again\nAmong the Gods on the Olympian heights,\nBy strong coercion of our arms subdued.185\n  So saying, the God of Ocean azure-hair\u2019d\nMoved foremost to the lofty mound earth-built\nOf noble Hercules, by Pallas raised\nAnd by the Trojans for his safe escape,\nWhat time the monster of the deep pursued190\nThe hero from the sea-bank o\u2019er the plain.\nThere Neptune sat, and his confederate Gods,\nTheir shoulders with impenetrable clouds\nO\u2019ermantled, while the city-spoiler Mars\nSat with Apollo opposite on the hill195\nCallicolone, with their aids divine.\nSo, Gods to Gods in opposite aspect\nSat ruminating, and alike the work\nAll fearing to begin of arduous war,\nWhile from his seat sublime Jove urged them on.200\nThe champain all was fill\u2019d, and with the blaze\nIllumined wide of men and steeds brass-arm\u2019d,\nAnd the incumber\u2019d earth jarr\u2019d under foot\nOf the encountering hosts. Then, two, the rest\nSurpassing far, into the midst advanced205\nImpatient for the fight, Anchises\u2019 son\n\u00c6neas and Achilles, glorious Chief!\n\u00c6neas first, under his ponderous casque\nNodding and menacing, advanced; before\nHis breast he held the well-conducted orb210\nOf his broad shield, and shook his brazen spear.\nOn the other side, Achilles to the fight\nFlew like a ravening lion, on whose death\nResolved, the peasants from all quarters meet;\nHe, viewing with disdain the foremost, stalks215\nRight on, but smitten by some dauntless youth\nWrithes himself, and discloses his huge fangs\nHung with white foam; then, growling for revenge,\nLashes himself to battle with his tail,\nTill with a burning eye and a bold heart220\nHe springs to slaughter, or himself is slain;\nSo, by his valor and his noble mind\nImpell\u2019d, renown\u2019d Achilles moved toward\n\u00c6neas, and, small interval between,\nThus spake the hero matchless in the race.225\n  Why stand\u2019st thou here, \u00c6neas! thy own band\nLeft at such distance? Is it that thine heart\nGlows with ambition to contend with me\nIn hope of Priam\u2019s honors, and to fill\nHis throne hereafter in Troy steed-renown\u2019d?230\nBut shouldst thou slay me, not for that exploit\nWould Priam such large recompense bestow,\nFor he hath sons, and hath, beside, a mind\nAnd disposition not so lightly changed.\nOr have the Trojans of their richest soil235\nFor vineyard apt or plow assign\u2019d thee part\nIf thou shalt slay me? Difficult, I hope,\nAt least, thou shalt experience that emprize.\nFor, as I think, I have already chased\nThee with my spear. Forgettest thou the day240\nWhen, finding thee alone, I drove thee down\nHeadlong from Ida, and, thy cattle left\nAfar, thou didst not dare in all thy flight\nTurn once, till at Lyrnessus safe arrived,\nWhich city by Jove\u2019s aid and by the aid245\nOf Pallas I destroy\u2019d, and captive led\nTheir women? Thee, indeed, the Gods preserved\nBut they shall not preserve thee, as thou dream\u2019st\nNow also. Back into thy host again;\nHence, I command thee, nor oppose in fight250\nMy force, lest evil find thee. To be taught\nBy suffering only is the part of fools.\n  To whom \u00c6neas answer thus return\u2019d.\nPelides! hope not, as I were a boy,\nWith words to scare me. I have also taunts255\nAt my command, and could be sharp as thou.\nBy such reports as from the lips of men\nWe oft have heard, each other\u2019s birth we know\nAnd parents; but my parents to behold\nWas ne\u2019er thy lot, nor have I thine beheld.260\nThee men proclaim from noble Peleus sprung\nAnd Thetis, bright hair\u2019d Goddess of the Deep;\nI boast myself of lovely Venus born\nTo brave Anchises; and his son this day\nIn battle slain thy sire shall mourn, or mine;265\nFor I expect not that we shall depart\nLike children, satisfied with words alone.\nBut if it please thee more at large to learn\nMy lineage (thousands can attest it true)\nKnow this. Jove, Sovereign of the storms, begat270\nDardanus, and ere yet the sacred walls\nOf Ilium rose, the glory of this plain,\nHe built Dardania; for at Ida\u2019s foot\nDwelt our progenitors in ancient days.\nDardanus was the father of a son,275\nKing Ericthonius, wealthiest of mankind.\nThree thousand mares of his the marish grazed,\nEach suckling with delight her tender foal.\nBoreas, enamor\u2019d of no few of these,\nThe pasture sought, and cover\u2019d them in form280\nOf a steed azure-maned. They, pregnant thence,\nTwelve foals produced, and all so light of foot,\nThat when they wanton\u2019d in the fruitful field\nThey swept, and snapp\u2019d it not, the golden ear;\nAnd when they wanton\u2019d on the boundless deep,285\nThey skimm\u2019d the green wave\u2019s frothy ridge, secure.\nFrom Ericthonius sprang Tros, King of Troy,\nAnd Tros was father of three famous sons,\nIlus, Assaracus, and Ganymede\nLoveliest of human kind, whom for his charms290\nThe Gods caught up to heaven, there to abide\nWith the immortals, cup-bearer of Jove.\nIlus begat Laomedon, and he\nFive sons, Tithonus, Priam, Clytius,\nLampus, and Hicetaon, branch of Mars.295\nAssaracus a son begat, by name\nCapys, and Capys in due time his son\nWarlike Anchises, and Anchises me.\nBut Priam is the noble Hector\u2019s sire.[6]\nSuch is my lineage, and such blood I boast;300\nBut valor is from Jove; he, as he wills,\nIncreases or reduces it in man,\nFor he is lord of all. Therefore enough\u2014\nToo long like children we have stood, the time\nConsuming here, while battle roars around.305\nReproach is cheap. Easily might we cast\nGibes at each other, till a ship that asks\nA hundred oars should sink beneath the load.\nThe tongue of man is voluble, hath words\nFor every theme, nor wants wide field and long,310\nAnd as he speaks so shall he hear again.\nBut we\u2014why should we wrangle, and with taunts\nAssail each other, as the practice is\nOf women, who with heart-devouring strife\nOn fire, start forth into the public way315\nTo mock each other, uttering, as may chance,\nMuch truth, much falsehood, as their anger bids?\nThe ardor of my courage will not slack\nFor all thy speeches; we must combat first;\nNow, therefore, without more delay, begin,320\nThat we may taste each other\u2019s force in arms.[7]\n  So spake \u00c6neas, and his brazen lance\nHurl\u2019d with full force against the dreadful shield.\nLoud roar\u2019d its ample concave at the blow.\nNot unalarm\u2019d, Pelides his broad disk325\nThrust farther from him, deeming that the force\nOf such an arm should pierce his guard with ease.\nVain fear! he recollected not that arms\nGlorious as his, gifts of the immortal Gods,\nYield not so quickly to the force of man.330\nThe stormy spear by brave \u00c6neas sent,\nNo passage found; the golden plate divine\nRepress\u2019d its vehemence; two folds it pierced,\nBut three were still behind, for with five folds\nVulcan had fortified it; two were brass;335\nThe two interior, tin; the midmost, gold;\nAnd at the golden one the weapon stood.[8]\nAchilles next, hurl\u2019d his long shadow\u2019d spear,\nAnd struck \u00c6neas on the utmost verge\nOf his broad shield, where thinnest lay the brass,340\nAnd thinnest the ox-hide. The Pelian ash\nStarted right through the buckler, and it rang.\n\u00c6neas crouch\u2019d terrified, and his shield\nThrust farther from him; but the rapid beam\nBursting both borders of the ample disk,345\nGlanced o\u2019er his back, and plunged into the soil.\nHe \u2019scaped it, and he stood; but, as he stood,\nWith horror infinite the weapon saw\nPlanted so near him. Then, Achilles drew\nHis falchion keen, and with a deafening shout350\nSprang on him; but \u00c6neas seized a stone\nHeavy and huge, a weight to overcharge\nTwo men (such men as are accounted strong\nNow) but he wielded it with ease, alone.\nThen had \u00c6neas, as Achilles came355\nImpetuous on, smitten, although in vain,\nHis helmet or his shield, and Peleus\u2019 son\nHad with his falchion him stretch\u2019d at his feet,\nBut that the God of Ocean quick perceived\nHis peril, and the Immortals thus bespake.360\n  I pity brave \u00c6neas, who shall soon,\nSlain by Achilles, see the realms below,\nBy smooth suggestions of Apollo lured\nTo danger, such as he can ne\u2019er avert.\nBut wherefore should the Chief, guiltless himself,365\nDie for the fault of others? at no time\nHis gifts have fail\u2019d, grateful to all in heaven.\nCome, therefore, and let us from death ourselves\nRescue him, lest if by Achilles\u2019 arm\nThis hero perish, Jove himself be wroth;370\nFor he is destined to survive, lest all\nThe house of Dardanus (whom Jove beyond\nAll others loved, his sons of woman born)\nFail with \u00c6neas, and be found no more.\nSaturnian Jove hath hated now long time375\nThe family of Priam, and henceforth\n\u00c6neas and his son, and his sons\u2019 sons,\nShall sway the sceptre o\u2019er the race of Troy.\n  To whom, majestic thus the spouse of Jove.\nNeptune! deliberate thyself, and choose380\nWhether to save \u00c6neas, or to leave\nThe hero victim of Achilles\u2019 ire.\nFor Pallas and myself ofttimes have sworn\nIn full assembly of the Gods, to aid\nTroy never, never to avert the day385\nOf her distress, not even when the flames\nKindled by the heroic sons of Greece,\nShall climb with fury to her topmost towers.\n  She spake; then Neptune, instant, through the throng\nOf battle flying, and the clash of spears,390\nCame where Achilles and \u00c6neas fought.\nAt once with shadows dim he blurr\u2019d the sight\nOf Peleus\u2019 son, and from the shield, himself,\nOf brave \u00c6neas the bright-pointed ash\nRetracting, placed it at Achilles\u2019 feet.395\nThen, lifting high \u00c6neas from the ground,\nHe heaved him far remote; o\u2019er many a rank\nOf heroes and of bounding steeds he flew,\nLaunch\u2019d into air from the expanded palm\nOf Neptune, and alighted in the rear400\nOf all the battle where the Caucons stood.\nNeptune approach\u2019d him there, and at his side\nStanding, in accents wing\u2019d, him thus bespake.\n  What God, \u00c6neas! tempted thee to cope\nThus inconsiderately with the son405\nOf Peleus, both more excellent in fight\nThan thou, and more the favorite of the skies?\nFrom him retire hereafter, or expect\nA premature descent into the shades.\nBut when Achilles shall have once fulfill\u2019d410\nHis destiny, in battle slain, then fight\nFearless, for thou canst fall by none beside.\n  So saying, he left the well-admonish\u2019d Chief,\nAnd from Achilles\u2019 eyes scatter\u2019d the gloom\nShed o\u2019er them by himself. The hero saw415\nClearly, and with his noble heart incensed\nBy disappointment, thus conferring, said.\n  Gods! I behold a prodigy. My spear\nLies at my foot, and he at whom I cast\nThe weapon with such deadly force, is gone!420\n\u00c6neas therefore, as it seems, himself\nInterests the immortal Gods, although\nI deem\u2019d his boast of their protection vain.\nI reck not. Let him go. So gladly \u2019scaped\nFrom slaughter now, he shall not soon again425\nFeel an ambition to contend with me.\nNow will I rouse the Dana\u00ef, and prove\nThe force in fight of many a Trojan more.\n  He said, and sprang to battle with loud voice,\nCalling the Grecians after him.\u2014Ye sons430\nOf the Achaians! stand not now aloof,\nMy noble friends! but foot to foot let each\nFall on courageous, and desire the fight.\nThe task were difficult for me alone,\nBrave as I boast myself, to chase a foe435\nSo numerous, and to combat with them all.\nNot Mars himself, immortal though he be,\nNor Pallas, could with all the ranks contend\nOf this vast multitude, and drive the whole.\nWith hands, with feet, with spirit and with might,440\nAll that I can I will; right through I go,\nAnd not a Trojan who shall chance within\nSpear\u2019s reach of me, shall, as I judge, rejoice.\n  Thus he the Greeks exhorted. Opposite,\nMeantime, illustrious Hector to his host445\nVociferated, his design to oppose\nAchilles publishing in every ear.\n  Fear not, ye valiant men of Troy! fear not\nThe son of Peleus. In a war of words\nI could, myself, cope even with the Gods;450\nBut not with spears; there they excel us all.\nNor shall Achilles full performance give\nTo all his vaunts, but, if he some fulfil,\nShall others leave mutilate in the midst.\nI will encounter him, though his hands be fire,455\nThough fire his hands, and his heart hammer\u2019d steel.\n  So spake he them exhorting. At his word\nUprose the Trojan spears, thick intermixt\nThe battle join\u2019d, and clamor loud began.\nThen thus, approaching Hector, Ph\u0153bus spake.460\n  Henceforth, advance not Hector! in the front\nSeeking Achilles, but retired within\nThe stormy multitude his coming wait,\nLest his spear reach thee, or his glittering sword.\n  He said, and Hector far into his host465\nWithdrew, admonish\u2019d by the voice divine.\nThen, shouting terrible, and clothed with might,\nAchilles sprang to battle. First, he slew\nThe valiant Chief Iphition, whom a band\nNumerous obey\u2019d. Otrynteus was his sire.470\nHim to Otrynteus, city-waster Chief,\nA Naiad under snowy Tmolus bore\nIn fruitful Hyda.[9] Right into his front\nAs he advanced, Achilles drove his spear,\nAnd rived his skull; with thundering sound he fell,475\nAnd thus the conqueror gloried in his fall.\n  Ah Otryntides! thou art slain. Here lies\nThe terrible in arms, who born beside\nThe broad Gyg\u00e6an lake, where Hyllus flows\nAnd Hermus, call\u2019d the fertile soil his own.480\n  Thus gloried he. Meantime the shades of death\nCover\u2019d Iphition, and Achaian wheels\nAnd horses ground his body in the van.\nDemoleon next, Antenor\u2019s son, a brave\nDefender of the walls of Troy, he slew.485\nInto his temples through his brazen casque\nHe thrust the Pelian ash, nor could the brass\nSuch force resist, but the huge weapon drove\nThe shatter\u2019d bone into his inmost brain,\nAnd his fierce onset at a stroke repress\u2019d.490\nHippodamas his weapon next received\nWithin his spine, while with a leap he left\nHis steeds and fled. He, panting forth his life,\nMoan\u2019d like a bull, by consecrated youths\nDragg\u2019d round the Heliconian King,[10] who views495\nThat victim with delight. So, with loud moans\nThe noble warrior sigh\u2019d his soul away.\nThen, spear in hand, against the godlike son\nOf Priam, Polydorus, he advanced.\nNot yet his father had to him indulged500\nA warrior\u2019s place, for that of all his sons\nHe was the youngest-born, his hoary sire\u2019s\nChief darling, and in speed surpass\u2019d them all.\nThen also, in the vanity of youth,\nFor show of nimbleness, he started oft505\nInto the vanward, till at last he fell.\nHim gliding swiftly by, swifter than he\nAchilles with a javelin reach\u2019d; he struck\nHis belt behind him, where the golden clasps\nMet, and the double hauberk interposed.510\nThe point transpierced his bowels, and sprang through\nHis navel; screaming, on his knees he fell,\nDeath-shadows dimm\u2019d his eyes, and with both hands,\nStooping, he press\u2019d his gather\u2019d bowels back.\nBut noble Hector, soon as he beheld515\nHis brother Polydorus to the earth\nInclined, and with his bowels in his hands,\nSightless well-nigh with anguish could endure\nNo longer to remain aloof; flame-like\nHe burst abroad,[11] and shaking his sharp spear,520\nAdvanced to meet Achilles, whose approach\nSeeing, Achilles bounded with delight,\nAnd thus, exulting, to himself he said.\n  Ah! he approaches, who hath stung my soul\nDeepest, the slayer of whom most I loved!525\nBehold, we meet! Caution is at an end,\nAnd timid skulking in the walks of war.\n  He ceased, and with a brow knit into frowns,\nCall\u2019d to illustrious Hector. Haste, approach,\nThat I may quick dispatch thee to the shades.530\n  Whom answer\u2019d warlike Hector, nought appall\u2019d.\nPelides! hope not, as I were a boy,\nWith words to scare me. I have also taunts\nAt my command, and can be sharp as thou.\nI know thee valiant, and myself I know535\nInferior far; yet, whether thou shalt slay\nMe, or, inferior as I am, be slain\nBy me, is at the pleasure of the Gods,\nFor I wield also not a pointless beam.\n  He said, and, brandishing it, hurl\u2019d his spear,540\nWhich Pallas, breathing softly, wafted back\nFrom the renown\u2019d Achilles, and it fell\nSuccessless at illustrious Hector\u2019s feet.\nThen, all on fire to slay him, with a shout\nThat rent the air Achilles rapid flew545\nToward him; but him wrapt in clouds opaque\nApollo caught with ease divine away.\nThrice, swift Achilles sprang to the assault\nImpetuous, thrice the pitchy cloud he smote,\nAnd at his fourth assault, godlike in act,550\nAnd terrible in utterance, thus exclaim\u2019d.\n  Dog! thou art safe, and hast escaped again;\nBut narrowly, and by the aid once more\nOf Ph\u0153bus, without previous suit to whom\nThou venturest never where the javelin sings.555\nBut when we next encounter, then expect,\nIf one of all in heaven aid also me,\nTo close thy proud career. Meantime I seek\nSome other, and assail e\u2019en whom I may.\n  So saying, he pierced the neck of Dryops through,560\nAnd at his feet he fell. Him there he left,\nAnd turning on a valiant warrior huge,\nPhiletor\u2019s son, Demuchus, in the knee\nPierced, and detain\u2019d him by the planted spear,\nTill with his sword he smote him, and he died.565\nLaogonus and Dardanus he next\nAssaulted, sons of Bias; to the ground\nDismounting both, one with his spear he slew,\nThe other with his falchion at a blow.\nTros too, Alastor\u2019s son\u2014he suppliant clasp\u2019d570\nAchilles\u2019 knees, and for his pity sued,\nPleading equality of years, in hope\nThat he would spare, and send him thence alive.\nAh dreamer! ignorant how much in vain\nThat suit he urged; for not of milky mind,575\nOr placable in temper was the Chief\nTo whom he sued, but fiery. With both hands\nHis knees he clasp\u2019d importunate, and he\nFast by the liver gash\u2019d him with his sword.\nHis liver falling forth, with sable blood580\nHis bosom fill\u2019d, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nThen, drawing close to Mulius, in his ear\nHe set the pointed brass, and at a thrust\nSent it, next moment, through his ear beyond.\nThen, through the forehead of Agenor\u2019s son585\nEchechlus, his huge-hafted blade he drove,\nAnd death and fate forever veil\u2019d his eyes.\nNext, where the tendons of the elbow meet,\nStriking Deucalion, through his wrist he urged\nThe brazen point; he all defenceless stood,590\nExpecting death; down came Achilles\u2019 blade\nFull on his neck; away went head and casque\nTogether; from his spine the marrow sprang,\nAnd at his length outstretch\u2019d he press\u2019d the plain.\nFrom him to Rhigmus, Pireus\u2019 noble son,595\nHe flew, a warrior from the fields of Thrace.\nHim through the loins he pierced, and with the beam\nFixt in his bowels, to the earth he fell;\nThen piercing, as he turn\u2019d to flight, the spine\nOf Areith\u00f6us his charioteer,600\nHe thrust him from his seat; wild with dismay\nBack flew the fiery coursers at his fall.\nAs a devouring fire within the glens\nOf some dry mountain ravages the trees,\nWhile, blown around, the flames roll to all sides,605\nSo, on all sides, terrible as a God,\nAchilles drove the death-devoted host\nOf Ilium, and the champain ran with blood.\nAs when the peasant his yoked steers employs\nTo tread his barley, the broad-fronted pair610\nWith ponderous hoofs trample it out with ease,\nSo, by magnanimous Achilles driven,\nHis coursers solid-hoof\u2019d stamp\u2019d as they ran\nThe shields, at once, and bodies of the slain;\nBlood spatter\u2019d all his axle, and with blood615\nFrom the horse-hoofs and from the fellied wheels\nHis chariot redden\u2019d, while himself, athirst\nFor glory, his unconquerable hands\nDefiled with mingled carnage, sweat, and dust.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XXI.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-FIRST BOOK.\n\nAchilles having separated the Trojans, and driven one part of them to\nthe city and the other into the Scamander, takes twelve young men\nalive, his intended victims to the manes of Patroclus. The river\noverflowing his banks with purpose to overwhelm him, is opposed by\nVulcan, and gladly relinquishes the attempt. The battle of the gods\nensues. Apollo, in the form of Agenor, decoys Achilles from the town,\nwhich in the mean time the Trojans enter and shut the gates against\nhim.\n\n\nBOOK XXI.\n\n\n[1]But when they came, at length, where Xanthus winds\nHis stream vortiginous from Jove derived,\nThere, separating Ilium\u2019s host, he drove\nPart o\u2019er the plain to Troy in the same road\nBy which the Grecians had so lately fled5\nThe fury of illustrious Hector\u2019s arm.\nThat way they fled pouring themselves along\nFlood-like, and Juno, to retard them, threw\nDarkness as night before them. Other part,\nPush\u2019d down the sides of Xanthus, headlong plunged10\nWith dashing sound into his dizzy stream,\nAnd all his banks re-echoed loud the roar.\nThey, struggling, shriek\u2019d in silver eddies whirl\u2019d.\nAs when, by violence of fire expell\u2019d,\nLocusts uplifted on the wing escape15\nTo some broad river, swift the sudden blaze\nPursues them, they, astonish\u2019d, strew the flood,[2]\nSo, by Achilles driven, a mingled throng\nOf horses and of warriors overspread\nXanthus, and glutted all his sounding course20\nHe, chief of heroes, leaving on the bank\nHis spear against a tamarisk reclined,\nPlunged like a God, with falchion arm\u2019d alone\nBut fill\u2019d with thoughts of havoc. On all sides\nDown came his edge; groans follow\u2019d dread to hear25\nOf warriors smitten by the sword, and all\nThe waters as they ran redden\u2019d with blood.\nAs smaller fishes, flying the pursuit\nOf some huge dolphin, terrified, the creeks\nAnd secret hollows of a haven fill,30\nFor none of all that he can seize he spares,\nSo lurk\u2019d the trembling Trojans in the caves\nOf Xanthus\u2019 awful flood. But he (his hands\nWearied at length with slaughter) from the rest\nTwelve youths selected whom to death he doom\u2019d,35\nIn vengeance for his loved Patroclus slain.\nThem stupified with dread like fawns he drove\nForth from the river, manacling their hands\nBehind them fast with their own tunic-strings,\nAnd gave them to his warrior train in charge.40\nThen, ardent still for blood, rushing again\nToward the stream, Dardanian Priam\u2019s son\nHe met, Lycaon, as he climb\u2019d the bank.\nHim erst by night, in his own father\u2019s field\nFinding him, he had led captive away.45\nLycaon was employ\u2019d cutting green shoots\nOf the wild-fig for chariot-rings, when lo!\nTerrible, unforeseen, Achilles came.\nHe seized and sent him in a ship afar\nTo Lemnos; there the son of Jason paid50\nHis price, and, at great cost, E\u00ebtion\nThe guest of Jason, thence redeeming him,\nSent him to fair Arisba;[3] but he \u2019scaped\nThence also and regain\u2019d his father\u2019s house.\nEleven days, at his return, he gave55\nTo recreation joyous with his friends,\nAnd on the twelfth his fate cast him again\nInto Achilles\u2019 hands, who to the shades\nNow doom\u2019d him, howsoever loth to go.\nSoon as Achilles swiftest of the swift60\nHim naked saw (for neither spear had he\nNor shield nor helmet, but, when he emerged,\nWeary and faint had cast them all away)\nIndignant to his mighty self he said.\n  Gods! I behold a miracle! Ere long65\nThe valiant Trojans whom my self have slain\nShall rise from Erebus, for he is here,\nThe self-same warrior whom I lately sold\nAt Lemnos, free, and in the field again.\nThe hoary deep is prison strong enough70\nFor most, but not for him. Now shall he taste\nThe point of this my spear, that I may learn\nBy sure experience, whether hell itself\nThat holds the strongest fast, can him detain,\nOr whether he shall thence also escape.75\n  While musing thus he stood, stunn\u2019d with dismay\nThe youth approach\u2019d, eager to clasp his knees,\nFor vehement he felt the dread of death\nWorking within him; with his Pelian ash\nUplifted high noble Achilles stood80\nArdent to smite him; he with body bent\nRan under it, and to his knees adhered;\nThe weapon, missing him, implanted stood\nClose at his back, when, seizing with one hand\nAchilles\u2019 knees, he with the other grasp\u2019d85\nThe dreadful beam, resolute through despair,\nAnd in wing\u2019d accents suppliant thus began.\n  Oh spare me! pity me! Behold I clasp\nThy knees, Achilles! Ah, illustrious Chief!\nReject not with disdain a suppliant\u2019s prayer.90\nI am thy guest also, who at thy own board\nHave eaten bread, and did partake the gift\nOf Ceres with thee on the very day\nWhen thou didst send me in yon field surprised\nFor sale to sacred Lemnos, far remote,95\nAnd for my price receiv\u2019dst a hundred beeves.\nLoose me, and I will yield thee now that sum\nThrice told. Alas! this morn is but the twelfth\nSince, after numerous hardships, I arrived\nOnce more in Troy, and now my ruthless lot100\nHath given me into thy hands again.\nJove cannot less than hate me, who hath twice\nMade me thy prisoner, and my doom was death,\nDeath in my prime, the day when I was born\nSon of Laoth\u00f6e from Alta sprung,105\nFrom Alta, whom the Leleges obey\nOn Satnio\u2019s banks in lofty Pedasus.\nHis daughter to his other numerous wives\nKing Priam added, and two sons she bore\nOnly to be deprived by thee of both.110\nMy brother hath already died, in front\nOf Ilium\u2019s infantry, by thy bright spear,\nThe godlike Polydorus; and like doom\nShall now be mine, for I despair to escape\nThine hands, to which the Gods yield me again.115\nBut hear and mark me well. My birth was not\nFrom the same womb as Hector\u2019s, who hath slain\nThy valiant friend for clemency renown\u2019d.\n  Such supplication the illustrious son\nOf Priam made, but answer harsh received.120\n  Fool! speak\u2019st of ransom? Name it not to me.\nFor till my friend his miserable fate\nAccomplish\u2019d, I was somewhat given to spare,\nAnd numerous, whom I seized alive, I sold.\nBut now, of all the Trojans whom the Gods125\nDeliver to me, none shall death escape,\n\u2019Specially of the house of Priam, none.\nDie therefore, even thou, my friend! What mean\nThy tears unreasonably shed and vain?\nDied not Patroclus. braver far than thou?130\nAnd look on me\u2014see\u2019st not to what a height\nMy stature towers, and what a bulk I boast?\nA King begat me, and a Goddess bore.\nWhat then! A death by violence awaits\nMe also, and at morn, or eve, or noon,135\nI perish, whensoe\u2019er the destined spear\nShall reach me, or the arrow from the nerve.\n  He ceased, and where the suppliant kneel\u2019d, he died.\nQuitting the spear, with both hands spread abroad\nHe sat, but swift Achilles with his sword140\n\u2019Twixt neck and key-bone smote him, and his blade\nOf double edge sank all into the wound.\nHe prone extended on the champain lay\nBedewing with his sable blood the glebe,\nTill, by the foot, Achilles cast him far145\nInto the stream, and, as he floated down,\nThus in wing\u2019d accents, glorying, exclaim\u2019d.\n  Lie there, and feed the fishes, which shall lick\nThy blood secure. Thy mother ne\u2019er shall place\nThee on thy bier, nor on thy body weep,150\nBut swift Scamander on his giddy tide\nShall bear thee to the bosom of the sea.\nThere, many a fish shall through the crystal flood\nAscending to the rippled surface, find\nLycaon\u2019s pamper\u2019d flesh delicious fare.155\nDie Trojans! till we reach your city, you\nFleeing, and slaughtering, I. This pleasant stream\nOf dimpling silver which ye worship oft\nWith victim bulls, and sate with living steeds[4]\nHis rapid whirlpools, shall avail you nought,160\nBut ye shall die, die terribly, till all\nShall have requited me with just amends\nFor my Patroclus, and for other Greeks\nSlain at the ships while I declined the war.\n  He ended, at those words still more incensed165\nScamander means devised, thenceforth to check\nAchilles, and avert the doom of Troy.\nMeantime the son of Peleus, his huge spear\nGrasping, assail\u2019d Asterop\u00e6us son\nOf Pelegon, on fire to take his life.170\nFair Perib\u0153a, daughter eldest-born\nOf Acessamenus, his father bore\nTo broad-stream\u2019d Axius, who had clasp\u2019d the nymph\nIn his embrace. On him Achilles sprang.\nHe newly risen from the river, stood175\nArm\u2019d with two lances opposite, for him\nXanthus embolden\u2019d, at the deaths incensed\nOf many a youth, whom, mercy none vouchsafed,\nAchilles had in all his current slain.\nAnd now small distance interposed, they faced180\nEach other, when Achilles thus began.\n  Who art and whence, who dar\u2019st encounter me?\nHapless the sires whose sons my force defy.\n  To whom the noble son of Pelegon.\nPelides, mighty Chief? Why hast thou ask\u2019d185\nMy derivation? From the land I come\nOf mellow-soil\u2019d P\u0153onia far remote,\nChief leader of P\u0153nia\u2019s host spear-arm\u2019d;\nThis day hath also the eleventh risen\nSince I at Troy arrived. For my descent,190\nIt is from Axius river wide-diffused,\nFrom Axius, fairest stream that waters earth,\nSire of bold Pelegon whom men report\nMy sire. Let this suffice. Now fight, Achilles!\n  So spake he threatening, and Achilles raised195\nDauntless the Pelian ash. At once two spears\nThe hero bold, Asterop\u00e6us threw,\nWith both hands apt for battle. One his shield\nStruck but pierced not, impeded by the gold,\nGift of a God; the other as it flew200\nGrazed at his right elbow; sprang the sable blood;\nBut, overflying him, the spear in earth\nStood planted deep, still hungering for the prey.\nThen, full at the P\u0153onian Peleus\u2019 son\nHurl\u2019d forth his weapon with unsparing force205\nBut vain; he struck the sloping river bank,\nAnd mid-length deep stood plunged the ashen beam.\nThen, with his falchion drawn, Achilles flew\nTo smite him; he in vain, meantime, essay\u2019d\nTo pluck the rooted spear forth from the bank;210\nThrice with full force he shook the beam, and thrice,\nAlthough reluctant, left it; at his fourth\nLast effort, bending it he sought to break\nThe ashen spear-beam of \u00c6acides,\nBut perish\u2019d by his keen-edged falchion first;215\nFor on the belly at his navel\u2019s side\nHe smote him; to the ground effused fell all\nHis bowels, death\u2019s dim shadows veil\u2019d his eyes.\nAchilles ardent on his bosom fix\u2019d\nHis foot, despoil\u2019d him, and exulting cried.220\n  Lie there; though River-sprung, thou find\u2019st it hard\nTo cope with sons of Jove omnipotent.\nThou said\u2019st, a mighty River is my sire\u2014\nBut my descent from mightier Jove I boast;\nMy father, whom the Myrmidons obey,225\nIs son of \u00c6acus, and he of Jove.\nAs Jove all streams excels that seek the sea,\nSo, Jove\u2019s descendants nobler are than theirs.\nBehold a River at thy side\u2014let him\nAfford thee, if he can, some succor\u2014No\u2014230\nHe may not fight against Saturnian Jove.\nTherefore, not kingly Achelo\u00efus,\nNor yet the strength of Ocean\u2019s vast profound,\nAlthough from him all rivers and all seas,\nAll fountains and all wells proceed, may boast235\nComparison with Jove, but even he\nAstonish\u2019d trembles at his fiery bolt,\nAnd his dread thunders rattling in the sky.\nHe said, and drawing from the bank his spear[5]\nAsterop\u00e6us left stretch\u2019d on the sands,240\nWhere, while the clear wave dash\u2019d him, eels his flanks\nAnd ravening fishes numerous nibbled bare.\nThe horsed P\u0153onians next he fierce assail\u2019d,\nWho seeing their brave Chief slain by the sword\nAnd forceful arm of Peleus\u2019 son, beside245\nThe eddy-whirling stream fled all dispersed.\nThersilochus and Mydon then he slew,\nThrasius, Astypylus and Ophelestes,\n\u00c6nius and Mnesus; nor had these sufficed\nAchilles, but P\u0153onians more had fallen,250\nHad not the angry River from within\nHis circling gulfs in semblance, of a man\nCall\u2019d to him, interrupting thus his rage.\n  Oh both in courage and injurious deeds\nUnmatch\u2019d, Achilles! whom themselves the Gods255\nCease not to aid, if Saturn\u2019s son have doom\u2019d\nAll Ilium\u2019s race to perish by thine arm,\nExpel them, first, from me, ere thou achieve\nThat dread exploit; for, cumber\u2019d as I am\nWith bodies, I can pour my pleasant stream260\nNo longer down into the sacred deep;\nAll vanish where thou comest. But oh desist\nDread Chief! Amazement fills me at thy deeds.\n  To whom Achilles, matchless in the race.\nRiver divine! hereafter be it so.265\nBut not from slaughter of this faithless host\nI cease, till I shall shut them fast in Troy\nAnd trial make of Hector, if his arm\nIn single fight shall strongest prove, or mine\n  He said, and like a God, furious, again270\nAssail\u2019d the Trojans; then the circling flood\nTo Ph\u0153bus thus his loud complaint address\u2019d.\n  Ah son of Jove, God of the silver bow!\nThe mandate of the son of Saturn ill\nHast thou perform\u2019d, who, earnest, bade thee aid275\nThe Trojans, till (the sun sunk in the West)\nNight\u2019s shadow dim should veil the fruitful field.\n  He ended, and Achilles spear-renown\u2019d\nPlunged from the bank into the middle stream.\nThen, turbulent, the River all his tide280\nStirr\u2019d from the bottom, landward heaving off\nThe numerous bodies that his current chok\u2019d\nSlain by Achilles; them, as with the roar\nOf bulls, he cast aground, but deep within\nHis oozy gulfs the living safe conceal\u2019d.285\nTerrible all around Achilles stood\nThe curling wave, then, falling on his shield\nDash\u2019d him, nor found his footsteps where to rest.\nAn elm of massy trunk he seized and branch\nLuxuriant, but it fell torn from the root290\nAnd drew the whole bank after it; immersed\nIt damm\u2019d the current with its ample boughs,\nAnd join\u2019d as with a bridge the distant shores,\nUpsprang Achilles from the gulf and turn\u2019d\nHis feet, now wing\u2019d for flight, into the plain295\nAstonish\u2019d; but the God, not so appeased,\nArose against him with a darker curl,[6]\nThat he might quell him and deliver Troy.\nBack flew Achilles with a bound, the length\nOf a spear\u2019s cast, for such a spring he own\u2019d300\nAs bears the black-plumed eagle on her prey\nStrongest and swiftest of the fowls of air.\nLike her he sprang, and dreadful on his chest\nClang\u2019d his bright armor. Then, with course oblique\nHe fled his fierce pursuer, but the flood,305\nFly where he might, came thundering in his rear.\nAs when the peasant with his spade a rill\nConducts from some pure fountain through his grove\nOr garden, clearing the obstructed course,\nThe pebbles, as it runs, all ring beneath,310\nAnd, as the slope still deepens, swifter still\nIt runs, and, murmuring, outstrips the guide,\nSo him, though swift, the river always reach\u2019d\nStill swifter; who can cope with power divine?\nOft as the noble Chief, turning, essay\u2019d315\nResistance, and to learn if all the Gods\nAlike rush\u2019d after him, so oft the flood,\nJove\u2019s offspring, laved his shoulders. Upward then\nHe sprang distress\u2019d, but with a sidelong sweep\nAssailing him, and from beneath his steps320\nWasting the soil, the Stream his force subdued.\nThen looking to the skies, aloud he mourn\u2019d.\n  Eternal Sire! forsaken by the Gods\nI sink, none deigns to save me from the flood,\nFrom which once saved, I would no death decline.325\nYet blame I none of all the Powers of heaven\nAs Thetis; she with falsehood sooth\u2019d my soul,\nShe promised me a death by Ph\u0153bus\u2019 shafts\nSwift-wing\u2019d, beneath the battlements of Troy.\nI would that Hector, noblest of his race,330\nHad slain me, I had then bravely expired\nAnd a brave man had stripp\u2019d me of my arms.\nBut fate now dooms me to a death abhorr\u2019d\nWhelm\u2019d in deep waters, like a swine-herd\u2019s boy\nDrown\u2019d in wet weather while he fords a brook.335\n  So spake Achilles; then, in human form,\nMinerva stood and Neptune at his side;\nEach seized his hand confirming him, and thus\nThe mighty Shaker of the shores began.\n  Achilles! moderate thy dismay, fear nought.340\nIn us behold, in Pallas and in me,\nEffectual aids, and with consent of Jove;\nFor to be vanquish\u2019d by a River\u2019s force\nIs not thy doom. This foe shall soon be quell\u2019d;\nThine eyes shall see it. Let our counsel rule345\nThy deed, and all is well. Cease not from war\nTill fast within proud Ilium\u2019s walls her host\nAgain be prison\u2019d, all who shall escape;\nThen (Hector slain) to the Achaian fleet\nReturn; we make the glorious victory thine.350\n  So they, and both departing sought the skies.\nThen, animated by the voice divine,\nHe moved toward the plain now all o\u2019erspread\nBy the vast flood on which the bodies swam\nAnd shields of many a youth in battle slain.355\nHe leap\u2019d, he waded, and the current stemm\u2019d\nRight onward, by the flood in vain opposed,\nWith such might Pallas fill\u2019d him. Nor his rage\nScamander aught repress\u2019d, but still the more\nIncensed against Achilles, curl\u2019d aloft360\nHis waters, and on Simo\u00efs call\u2019d aloud.\n  Brother! oh let us with united force\nCheck, if we may, this warrior; he shall else\nSoon lay the lofty towers of Priam low,\nWhose host appall\u2019d, defend them now no more.365\nHaste\u2014succor me\u2014thy channel fill with streams\nFrom all thy fountains; call thy torrents down;\nLift high the waters; mingle trees and stones\nWith uproar wild, that we may quell the force\nOf this dread Chief triumphant now, and fill\u2019d370\nWith projects that might more beseem a God.\nBut vain shall be his strength, his beauty nought\nShall profit him or his resplendent arms,\nFor I will bury them in slime and ooze,\nAnd I will overwhelm himself with soil,375\nSands heaping o\u2019er him and around him sands\nInfinite, that no Greek shall find his bones\nFor ever, in my bottom deep immersed.\nThere shall his tomb be piled, nor other earth,\nAt his last rites, his friends shall need for him.380\n  He said, and lifting high his angry tide\nVortiginous, against Achilles hurl\u2019d,\nRoaring, the foam, the bodies, and the blood;\nThen all his sable waves divine again\nAccumulating, bore him swift along.385\nShriek\u2019d Juno at that sight, terrified lest\nAchilles in the whirling deluge sunk\nShould perish, and to Vulcan quick exclaim\u2019d.\n  Vulcan, my son, arise; for we account\nXanthus well able to contend with thee.390\nGive instant succor; show forth all thy fires.\nMyself will haste to call the rapid South\nAnd Zephyrus, that tempests from the sea\nBlowing, thou may\u2019st both arms and dead consume\nWith hideous conflagration. Burn along395\nThe banks of Xanthus, fire his trees and him\nSeize also. Let him by no specious guile\nOf flattery soothe thee, or by threats appall,\nNor slack thy furious fires till with a shout\nI give command, then bid them cease to blaze.400\n  She spake, and Vulcan at her word his fires\nShot dreadful forth; first, kindling on the field,\nHe burn\u2019d the bodies strew\u2019d numerous around\nSlain by Achilles; arid grew the earth\nAnd the flood ceased. As when a sprightly breeze405\nAutumnal blowing from the North, at once\nDries the new-water\u2019d garden,[7] gladdening him\nWho tills the soil, so was the champain dried;\nThe dead consumed, against the River, next,\nHe turn\u2019d the fierceness of his glittering fires.410\nWillows and tamarisks and elms he burn\u2019d,\nBurn\u2019d lotus, rushes, reeds; all plants and herbs\nThat clothed profuse the margin of his flood.\nHis eels and fishes, whether wont to dwell\nIn gulfs beneath, or tumble in the stream,415\nAll languish\u2019d while the artist of the skies\nBreath\u2019d on them; even Xanthus lost, himself,\nAll force, and, suppliant, Vulcan thus address\u2019d.\n  Oh Vulcan! none in heaven itself may cope\nWith thee. I yield to thy consuming fires.420\nCease, cease. I reck not if Achilles drive\nHer citizens, this moment, forth from Troy,\nFor what are war and war\u2019s concerns to me?\n  So spake he scorch\u2019d, and all his waters boil\u2019d.\nAs some huge caldron hisses urged by force425\nOf circling fires and fill\u2019d with melted lard,\nThe unctuous fluid overbubbling[8] streams\nOn all sides, while the dry wood flames beneath,\nSo Xanthus bubbled and his pleasant flood\nHiss\u2019d in the fire, nor could he longer flow430\nBut check\u2019d his current, with hot steams annoy\u2019d\nBy Vulcan raised. His supplication, then,\nImportunate to Juno thus he turn\u2019d.\n  Ah Juno! why assails thy son my streams,\nHostile to me alone? Of all who aid435\nThe Trojans I am surely least to blame,\nYet even I desist if thou command;\nAnd let thy son cease also; for I swear\nThat never will I from the Trojans turn\nTheir evil day, not even when the host440\nOf Greece shall set all Ilium in a blaze.\n  He said, and by his oath pacified, thus\nThe white-arm\u2019d Deity to Vulcan spake.\n  Peace, glorious son! we may not in behalf\nOf mortal man thus longer vex a God.445\n  Then Vulcan his tremendous fires repress\u2019d,\nAnd down into his gulfy channel rush\u2019d\nThe refluent flood; for when the force was once\nSubdued of Xanthus, Juno interposed,\nAlthough incensed, herself to quell the strife.450\n  But contest vehement the other Gods\nNow waged, each breathing discord; loud they rush\u2019d\nAnd fierce to battle, while the boundless earth\nQuaked under them, and, all around, the heavens\nSang them together with a trumpet\u2019s voice.455\nJove listening, on the Olympian summit sat\nWell-pleased, and, in his heart laughing for joy,\nBeheld the Powers of heaven in battle join\u2019d.\nNot long aloof they stood. Shield-piercer Mars,\nHis brazen spear grasp\u2019d, and began the fight460\nRushing on Pallas, whom he thus reproach\u2019d.\n  Wasp! front of impudence, and past all bounds\nAudacious! Why impellest thou the Gods\nTo fight? Thy own proud spirit is the cause.\nRemember\u2019st not, how, urged by thee, the son465\nOf Tydeus, Diomede, myself assail\u2019d,\nWhen thou, the radiant spear with thy own hand\nGuiding, didst rend my body? Now, I ween,\nThe hour is come in which I shall exact\nVengeance for all thy malice shown to me.470\n  So saying, her shield he smote tassell\u2019d around\nTerrific, proof against the bolts of Jove;\nThat shield gore-tainted Mars with fury smote.\nBut she, retiring, with strong grasp upheaved\nA rugged stone, black, ponderous, from the plain,475\nA land-mark fixt by men of ancient times,\nWhich hurling at the neck of stormy Mars\nShe smote him. Down he fell. Seven acres, stretch\u2019d,\nHe overspread, his ringlets in the dust\nPolluted lay, and dreadful rang his arms.480\nThe Goddess laugh\u2019d, and thus in accents wing\u2019d\nWith exultation, as he lay, exclaim\u2019d.\n  Fool! Art thou still to learn how far my force\nSurpasses thine, and darest thou cope with me?\nNow feel the furies of thy mother\u2019s ire485\nWho hates thee for thy treachery to the Greeks,\nAnd for thy succor given to faithless Troy.\n  She said, and turn\u2019d from Mars her glorious eyes.\nBut him deep-groaning and his torpid powers\nRecovering slow, Venus conducted thence490\nDaughter of Jove, whom soon as Juno mark\u2019d,\nIn accents wing\u2019d to Pallas thus she spake.\n  Daughter invincible of glorious Jove!\nHaste\u2014follow her\u2014Ah shameless! how she leads\nGore-tainted Mars through all the host of heaven.495\n\n  So she, whom Pallas with delight obey\u2019d;\nTo Venus swift she flew, and on the breast\nWith such force smote her that of sense bereft\nThe fainting Goddess fell. There Venus lay\nAnd Mars extended on the fruitful glebe,500\nAnd Pallas thus in accents wing\u2019d exclaim\u2019d.\n  I would that all who on the part of Troy\nOppose in fight Achaia\u2019s valiant sons,\nWere firm and bold as Venus in defence\nOf Mars, for whom she dared my power defy!505\nSo had dissension (Ilium overthrown\nAnd desolated) ceased long since in heaven.\n  So Pallas, and approving Juno smiled.\nThen the imperial Shaker of the shores\nThus to Apollo. Ph\u0153bus! wherefore stand510\n_We_ thus aloof? Since others have begun,\nBegin we also; shame it were to both\nShould we, no combat waged, ascend again\nOlympus and the brass-built hall of Jove.\nBegin, for thou art younger; me, whose years515\nAlike and knowledge thine surpass so far,\nIt suits not. Oh stupidity! how gross\nArt thou and senseless! Are no traces left\nIn thy remembrance of our numerous wrongs\nSustain\u2019d at Ilium, when, of all the Gods520\nOurselves alone, by Jove\u2019s commandment, served\nFor stipulated hire, a year complete,\nOur task-master the proud Laomedon?\nMyself a bulwark\u2019d town, spacious, secure\nAgainst assault, and beautiful as strong525\nBuilt for the Trojans, and thine office was\nTo feed for King Laomedon his herds\nAmong the groves of Ida many-valed.\nBut when the gladsome hours the season brought\nOf payment, then the unjust King of Troy530\nDismiss\u2019d us of our whole reward amerced\nBy violence, and added threats beside.\nThee into distant isles, bound hand and foot,\nTo sell he threatened, and to amputate\nThe ears of both; we, therefore, hasted thence535\nResenting deep our promised hire withheld.\nAid\u2019st thou for this the Trojans? Canst thou less\nThan seek, with us, to exterminate the whole\nPerfidious race, wives, children, husbands, all?\n  To whom the King of radiant shafts Apollo.540\nMe, Neptune, thou wouldst deem, thyself, unwise\nContending for the sake of mortal men\nWith thee; a wretched race, who like the leaves\nNow flourish rank, by fruits of earth sustain\u2019d,\nNow sapless fall. Here, therefore, us between545\nLet all strife cease, far better left to them.\n  He said, and turn\u2019d away, fearing to lift\nHis hand against the brother of his sire.\nBut him Diana of the woods with sharp\nRebuke, his huntress sister, thus reproved.550\n  Fly\u2019st thou, Apollo! and to Neptune yield\u2019st\nAn unearn\u2019d victory, the prize of fame\nResigning patient and with no dispute?\nFool! wherefore bearest thou the bow in vain?\nAh, let me never in my father\u2019s courts555\nHear thee among the immortals vaunting more\nThat thou wouldst Neptune\u2019s self confront in arms.\n  So she, to whom Apollo nought replied.[9]\nBut thus the consort of the Thunderer, fired\nWith wrath, reproved the Archeress of heaven.560\n  How hast thou dared, impudent, to oppose\nMy will? Bow-practised as thou art, the task\nTo match my force were difficult to thee.\nIs it, because by ordinance of Jove\nThou art a lioness to womankind,565\nKilling them at thy pleasure? Ah beware\u2014\nFar easier is it, on the mountain-heights\nTo slay wild beasts and chase the roving hind,\nThan to conflict with mightier than ourselves.\nBut, if thou wish a lesson on that theme,570\nApproach\u2014thou shalt be taught with good effect\nHow far my force in combat passes thine.\n  She said, and with her left hand seizing both\nDiana\u2019s wrists, snatch\u2019d suddenly the bow\nSuspended on her shoulder with the right,575\nAnd, smiling, smote her with it on the ears.\nShe, writhing oft and struggling, to the ground\nShook forth her rapid shafts, then, weeping, fled\nAs to her cavern in some hollow rock\nThe dove, not destined to his talons, flies580\nThe hawk\u2019s pursuit, and left her arms behind.\n  Then, messenger of heaven, the Argicide\nAddress\u2019d Latona. Combat none with thee,\nLatona, will I wage. Unsafe it were\nTo cope in battle with a spouse of Jove.585\nGo, therefore, loudly as thou wilt, proclaim\nTo all the Gods that thou hast vanquish\u2019d me.\n  Collecting, then, the bow and arrows fallen\nIn wild disorder on the dusty plain,\nLatona with the sacred charge withdrew590\nFollowing her daughter; she, in the abode\nBrass-built arriving of Olympian Jove,\nSat on his knees, weeping till all her robe\nAmbrosial shook. The mighty Father smiled,\nAnd to his bosom straining her, inquired.595\n  Daughter beloved! who, which of all the Gods\nHath raised his hand, presumptuous, against thee,\nAs if convicted of some open wrong?\n  To whom the clear-voiced Huntress crescent-crown\u2019d.\nMy Father! Juno, thy own consort fair600\nMy sorrow caused, from whom dispute and strife\nPerpetual, threaten the immortal Powers.\n  Thus they in heaven mutual conferr\u2019d. Meantime\nApollo into sacred Troy return\u2019d\nMindful to guard her bulwarks, lest the Greeks605\nToo soon for Fate should desolate the town.\nThe other Gods, some angry, some elate\nWith victory, the Olympian heights regain\u2019d,\nAnd sat beside the Thunderer. But the son\nOf Peleus\u2014He both Trojans slew and steeds.610\nAs when in volumes slow smoke climbs the skies\nFrom some great city which the Gods have fired\nVindictive, sorrow thence to many ensues\nWith mischief, and to all labor severe,\nSo caused Achilles labor on that day,615\nSevere, and mischief to the men of Troy.\n  But ancient Priam from a sacred tower\nStood looking forth, whence soon he noticed vast\nAchilles, before whom the Trojans fled\nAll courage lost. Descending from the tower620\nWith mournful cries and hasting to the wall\nHe thus enjoin\u2019d the keepers of the gates.\n  Hold wide the portals till the flying host\nRe-enter, for himself is nigh, himself\nAchilles drives them home. Now, wo to Troy!625\nBut soon as safe within the walls received\nThey breathe again, shut fast the ponderous gates\nAt once, lest that destroyer also pass.\n  He said; they, shooting back the bars, threw wide\nThe gates and saved the people, whom to aid630\nApollo also sprang into the field,\nThey, parch\u2019d with drought and whiten\u2019d all with dust,\nFlew right toward the town, while, spear in hand,\nAchilles press\u2019d them, vengeance in his heart\nAnd all on fire for glory. Then, full sure,635\nIlium, the city of lofty gates, had fallen\nWon by the Grecians, had not Ph\u0153bus roused\nAntenor\u2019s valiant son, the noble Chief\nAgenor; him with dauntless might he fill\u2019d,\nAnd shielding him against the stroke of fate640\nBeside him stood himself, by the broad beech\nCover\u2019d and wrapt in clouds. Agenor then,\nSeeing the city-waster hero nigh\nAchilles, stood, but standing, felt his mind\nTroubled with doubts; he groan\u2019d, and thus he mused.645\n  [10]Alas! if following the tumultuous flight\nOf these, I shun Achilles, swifter far\nHe soon will lop my ignominious head.\nBut if, these leaving to be thus dispersed\nBefore him, from the city-wall I fly650\nAcross the plain of Troy into the groves\nOf Ida, and in Ida\u2019s thickets lurk,\nI may, at evening, to the town return\nBathed and refresh\u2019d. But whither tend my thoughts?\nShould he my flight into the plain observe655\nAnd swift pursuing seize me, then, farewell\nAll hope to scape a miserable death,\nFor he hath strength passing the strength of man.\nHow then\u2014shall I withstand him here before\nThe city? He hath also flesh to steel660\nPervious, within it but a single life,\nAnd men report him mortal, howsoe\u2019er\nSaturnian Jove lift him to glory now.\n  So saying, he turn\u2019d and stood, his dauntless heart\nBeating for battle. As the pard springs forth665\nTo meet the hunter from her gloomy lair,\nNor, hearing loud the hounds, fears or retires,\nBut whether from afar or nigh at hand\nHe pierce her first, although transfixt, the fight\nStill tries, and combats desperate till she fall,670\nSo, brave Antenor\u2019s son fled not, or shrank,\nTill he had proved Achilles, but his breast\nO\u2019ershadowing with his buckler and his spear\nAiming well-poised against him, loud exclaim\u2019d.\n  Renown\u2019d Achilles! Thou art high in hope675\nDoubtless, that thou shalt this day overthrow\nThe city of the glorious sons of Troy.\nFool! ye must labor yet ere she be won,\nFor numerous are her citizens and bold,\nAnd we will guard her for our parents\u2019 sake680\nOur wives and little ones. But here thou diest\nTerrible Chief and dauntless as thou art.\n  He said, and with full force hurling his lance\nSmote, and err\u2019d not, his greave beneath his knee\nThe glittering tin, forged newly, at the stroke685\nTremendous rang, but quick recoil\u2019d and vain\nThe weapon, weak against that guard divine.\nThen sprang Achilles in his turn to assail\nGodlike Agenor, but Apollo took\nThat glory from him, snatching wrapt in clouds690\nAgenor thence, whom calm he sent away.\n  Then Ph\u0153bus from pursuit of Ilium\u2019s host\nBy art averted Peleus\u2019 son; the form\nAssuming of Agenor, swift he fled\nBefore him, and Achilles swift pursued.695\nWhile him Apollo thus lured to the chase\nWide o\u2019er the fruitful plain, inclining still\nToward Scamander\u2019s dizzy stream his course\nNor flying far before, but with false hope\nAlways beguiling him, the scatter\u2019d host700\nMeantime, in joyful throngs, regain\u2019d the town.\nThey fill\u2019d and shut it fast, nor dared to wait\nEach other in the field, or to inquire\nWho lived and who had fallen, but all, whom flight\nHad rescued, like a flood pour\u2019d into Troy.705\n\n\nThe Trojans being now within the city, excepting Hector, the field is\ncleared for the most important and decisive action in the poem; that\nis, the battle between Achilles and Hector, and the death of the\nlatter. This part of the story is managed with singular skill. It seems\nas if the poet, feeling the importance of the catastrophe, wished to\nwithdraw from view the personages of less consequence, and to\nconcentrate our attention upon those two alone. The poetic action and\ndescription are narrowed in extent, but deepened in interest. The fate\nof Troy is impending; the irreversible decree of Jupiter is about to be\nexecuted; the heroes, whose bravery is to be the instrument of bringing\nabout this consummation, are left together on the plain.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XXII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-SECOND BOOK.\n\nAchilles slays Hector.\n\n\nBOOK XXII.\n\n\nThus they, throughout all Troy, like hunted fawns\nDispersed, their trickling limbs at leisure cool\u2019d,\nAnd, drinking, slaked their fiery thirst, reclined\nAgainst the battlements. Meantime, the Greeks\nSloping their shields, approach\u2019d the walls of Troy,5\nAnd Hector, by his adverse fate ensnared,\nStill stood exposed before the Sc\u00e6an gate.\nThen spake Apollo thus to Peleus\u2019 son.\n  Wherefore, thyself mortal, pursuest thou me\nImmortal? oh Achilles! blind with rage,10\nThou know\u2019st not yet, that thou pursuest a God.\nUnmindful of thy proper task, to press\nThe flying Trojans, thou hast hither turn\u2019d\nDevious, and they are all now safe in Troy;\nYet hope me not to slay; I cannot die.15\n  To whom Achilles swiftest of the swift,\nIndignant. Oh, of all the Powers above\nTo me most adverse, Archer of the skies!\nThou hast beguiled me, leading me away\nFrom Ilium far, whence intercepted, else,20\nNo few had at this moment gnaw\u2019d the glebe.\nThou hast defrauded me of great renown,\nAnd, safe thyself, hast rescued _them_ with ease.\nAh\u2014had I power, I would requite thee well.\n  So saying, incensed he turned toward the town25\nHis rapid course, like some victorious steed\nThat whirls, at stretch, a chariot to the goal.\nSuch seem\u2019d Achilles, coursing light the field.\n  Him, first, the ancient King of Troy perceived\nScouring the plain, resplendent as the star30\nAutumnal, of all stars in dead of night\nConspicous most, and named Orion\u2019s dog;\nBrightest it shines, but ominous, and dire\nDisease portends to miserable man;[1]\nSo beam\u2019d Achilles\u2019 armor as he flew.35\nLoud wail\u2019d the hoary King; with lifted hands\nHis head he smote, and, uttering doleful cries\nOf supplication, sued to his own son.\nHe, fixt before the gate, desirous stood\nOf combat with Achilles, when his sire40\nWith arms outstretch\u2019d toward him, thus began.\n  My Hector! wait not, oh my son! the approach\nOf this dread Chief, alone, lest premature\nThou die, this moment by Achilles slain,\nFor he is strongest far. Oh that the Gods45\nHim loved as I! then, soon should vultures rend\nAnd dogs his carcase, and my grief should cease.\nHe hath unchilded me of many a son,\nAll valiant youths, whom he hath slain or sold\nTo distant isles, and even now, I miss50\nTwo sons, whom since the shutting of the gates\nI find not, Polydorus and Lycaon,\nMy children by Laoth\u00f6e the fair.\nIf they survive prisoners in yonder camp,\nI will redeem them with gold and brass55\nBy noble Eltes to his daughter given,\nLarge store, and still reserved. But should they both,\nAlready slain, have journey\u2019d to the shades,\nWe, then, from whom they sprang have cause to mourn\nAnd mourn them long, but shorter shall the grief60\nOf Ilium prove, if thou escape and live.\nCome then, my son! enter the city-gate\nThat thou may\u2019st save us all, nor in thy bloom\nOf life cut off, enhance Achilles\u2019 fame.\nCommiserate also thy unhappy sire65\nEre yet distracted, whom Saturnian Jove\nOrdains to a sad death, and ere I die\nTo woes innumerable; to behold\nSons slaughter\u2019d, daughters ravish\u2019d, torn and stripp\u2019d\nThe matrimonial chamber, infants dash\u2019d70\nAgainst the ground in dire hostility,[2]\nAnd matrons dragg\u2019d by ruthless Grecian hands.\nMe, haply, last of all, dogs shall devour\nIn my own vestibule, when once the spear\nOr falchion of some Greek hath laid me low.75\nThe very dogs fed at my table-side,\nMy portal-guards, drinking their master\u2019s blood\nTo drunkenness, shall wallow in my courts.\nFair falls the warlike youth in battle slain,\nAnd when he lies torn by the pointed steel,80\nHis death becomes him well; he is secure,\nThough dead, from shame, whatever next befalls:\nBut when the silver locks and silver beard\nOf an old man slain by the sword, from dogs\nReceive dishonor, of all ills that wait85\nOn miserable man, that sure is worst.\n  So spake the ancient King, and his grey hairs\nPluck\u2019d with both hands, but Hector firm endured.\nOn the other side all tears his mother stood,\nAnd lamentation; with one hand she bared,90\nAnd with the other hand produced her breast,\nThen in wing\u2019d accents, weeping, him bespake.\n  My Hector! reverence this, and pity me\nIf ever, drawing forth this breast, thy griefs\nOf infancy I soothed, oh now, my son!95\nAcknowledge it, and from within the walls\nRepulse this enemy; stand not abroad\nTo cope with _him_, for he is savage-fierce,\nAnd should he slay thee, neither shall myself\nWho bore thee, nor thy noble spouse weep o\u2019er100\nThy body, but, where we can never come,\nDogs shall devour it in the fleet of Greece.\n  So they with prayers importuned, and with tears\nTheir son, but him sway\u2019d not; unmoved he stood,\nExpecting vast Achilles now at hand.105\nAs some fell serpent in his cave expects\nThe traveller\u2019s approach, batten\u2019d with herbs\nOf baneful juice to fury,[3] forth he looks\nHideous, and lies coil\u2019d all around his den,\nSo Hector, fill\u2019d with confidence untamed,110\nFled not, but placing his bright shield against\nA buttress, with his noble heart conferr\u2019d.\n  [4]Alas for me! should I repass the gate,\nPolydamas would be the first to heap\nReproaches on me, for he bade me lead115\nThe Trojans back this last calamitous night\nIn which Achilles rose to arms again.\nBut I refused, although to have complied,\nHad proved more profitable far; since then\nBy rash resolves of mine I have destroy\u2019d120\nThe people, how can I escape the blame\nOf all in Troy? The meanest there will say\u2014\nBy his self-will he hath destroy\u2019d us all.\nSo shall they speak, and then shall I regret\nThat I return\u2019d ere I had slain in fight125\nAchilles, or that, by Achilles slain,\nI died not nobly in defence of Troy.\nBut shall I thus? Lay down my bossy shield,\nPut off my helmet, and my spear recline\nAgainst the city wall, then go myself130\nTo meet the brave Achilles, and at once\nPromise him Helen, for whose sake we strive\nWith all the wealth that Paris in his fleet\nBrought home, to be restored to Atreus\u2019 sons,\nAnd to distribute to the Greeks at large135\nAll hidden treasures of the town, an oath\nTaking beside from every senator,\nThat he will nought conceal, but will produce\nAnd share in just equality what stores\nSoever our fair city still includes?140\nAh airy speculations, questions vain!\nI may not sue to him: compassion none\nWill he vouchsafe me, or my suit respect.\nBut, seeing me unarm\u2019d, will sate at once\nHis rage, and womanlike I shall be slain.145\nIt is no time from oak or hollow rock\nWith him to parley, as a nymph and swain,\nA nymph and swain[5] soft parley mutual hold,\nBut rather to engage in combat fierce\nIncontinent; so shall we soonest learn150\nWhom Jove will make victorious, him or me.\n  Thus pondering he stood; meantime approach\u2019d\nAchilles, terrible as fiery Mars,\nCrest-tossing God, and brandish\u2019d as he came\nO\u2019er his right shoulder high the Pelian spear.155\nLike lightning, or like flame, or like the sun\nAscending, beam\u2019d his armor. At that sight\nTrembled the Trojan Chief, nor dared expect\nHis nearer step, but flying left the gates\nFar distant, and Achilles swift pursued.160\nAs in the mountains, fleetest fowl of air,\nThe hawk darts eager at the dove; she scuds\nAslant, he screaming, springs and springs again\nTo seize her, all impatient for the prey,\nSo flew Achilles constant to the track165\nOf Hector, who with dreadful haste beneath\nThe Trojan bulwarks plied his agile limbs.\nPassing the prospect-mount where high in air\nThe wild-fig waved,[6] they rush\u2019d along the road,\nDeclining never from the wall of Troy.170\nAnd now they reach\u2019d the running rivulets clear,\nWhere from Scamander\u2019s dizzy flood arise\nTwo fountains,[7] tepid one, from which a smoke\nIssues voluminous as from a fire,\nThe other, even in summer heats, like hail175\nFor cold, or snow, or crystal-stream frost-bound.\nBeside them may be seen the broad canals\nOf marble scoop\u2019d, in which the wives of Troy\nAnd all her daughters fair were wont to lave\nTheir costly raiment,[8] while the land had rest,180\nAnd ere the warlike sons of Greece arrived.\nBy these they ran, one fleeing, one in chase.\nValiant was he who fled, but valiant far\nBeyond him he who urged the swift pursuit;\nNor ran they for a vulgar prize, a beast185\nFor sacrifice, or for the hide of such,\nThe swift foot-racer\u2019s customary meed,\nBut for the noble Hector\u2019s life they ran.\nAs when two steeds, oft conquerors, trim the goal\nFor some illustrious prize, a tripod bright190\nOr beauteous virgin, at a funeral game,\nSo they with nimble feet the city thrice\nOf Priam compass\u2019d. All the Gods look\u2019d on,\nAnd thus the Sire of Gods and men began.\n  Ah\u2014I behold a warrior dear to me195\nAround the walls of Ilium driven, and grieve\nFor Hector, who the thighs of fatted bulls\nOn yonder heights of Ida many-valed\nBurn\u2019d oft to me, and in the heights of Troy:[9]\nBut him Achilles, glorious Chief, around200\nThe city walls of Priam now pursues.\nConsider this, ye Gods! weigh the event.\nShall we from death save Hector? or, at length,\nLeave him, although in battle high renown\u2019d,\nTo perish by the might of Peleus\u2019 son?205\n  Whom answer\u2019d thus Pallas cerulean-eyed.\nDread Sovereign of the storms! what hast thou said?\nWouldst thou deliver from the stroke of fate\nA mortal man death-destined from of old?\nDo it; but small thy praise shall be in heaven.210\n  Then answer thus, cloud-gatherer Jove return\u2019d.\nFear not, Tritonia, daughter dear! that word\nSpake not my purpose; me thou shalt perceive\nAlways to thee indulgent. What thou wilt\nThat execute, and use thou no delay.215\n  So roused he Pallas of herself prepared,\nAnd from the heights Olympian down she flew.\nWith unremitting speed Achilles still\nUrged Hector. As among the mountain-height\nThe hound pursues, roused newly from her lair220\nThe flying fawn through many a vale and grove;\nAnd though she trembling skulk the shrubs beneath,\nTracks her continual, till he find the prey,\nSo \u2019scaped not Hector Peleus\u2019 rapid son.\nOft as toward the Dardan gates he sprang225\nDirect, and to the bulwarks firm of Troy,\nHoping some aid by volleys from the wall,\nSo oft, outstripping him, Achilles thence\nEnforced him to the field, who, as he might,\nStill ever stretch\u2019d toward the walls again.230\nAs, in a dream,[10] pursuit hesitates oft,\nThis hath no power to fly, that to pursue,\nSo these\u2014one fled, and one pursued in vain.\nHow, then, had Hector his impending fate\nEluded, had not Ph\u0153bus, at his last,235\nLast effort meeting him, his strength restored,\nAnd wing\u2019d for flight his agile limbs anew?\nThe son of Peleus, as he ran, his brows\nShaking, forbad the people to dismiss\nA dart at Hector, lest a meaner hand240\nPiercing him, should usurp the foremost praise.\nBut when the fourth time to those rivulets.\nThey came, then lifting high his golden scales,\nTwo lots the everlasting Father placed\nWithin them, for Achilles one, and one245\nFor Hector, balancing the doom of both.\nGrasping it in the midst, he raised the beam.\nDown went the fatal day of Hector, down\nTo Ades, and Apollo left his side.\nThen blue-eyed Pallas hasting to the son250\nOf Peleus, in wing\u2019d accents him address\u2019d.\n  Now, dear to Jove, Achilles famed in arms!\nI hope that, fierce in combat though he be,\nWe shall, at last, slay Hector, and return\nCrown\u2019d with great glory to the fleet of Greece.255\nNo fear of his deliverance now remains,\nNot even should the King of radiant shafts,\nApollo, toil in supplication, roll\u2019d\nAnd roll\u2019d again[11] before the Thunderer\u2019s feet.\nBut stand, recover breath; myself, the while,260\nShall urge him to oppose thee face to face.\n  So Pallas spake, whom joyful he obey\u2019d,\nAnd on his spear brass-pointed lean\u2019d. But she,\n(Achilles left) to noble Hector pass\u2019d,\nAnd in the form, and with the voice loud-toned265\nApproaching of Deiphobus, his ear\nIn accents, as of pity, thus address\u2019d.\n  Ah brother! thou art overtask\u2019d, around\nThe walls of Troy by swift Achilles driven;\nBut stand, that we may chase him in his turn.[12]270\n  To whom crest-tossing Hector huge replied.\nDeiphobus! of all my father\u2019s sons\nBrought forth by Hecuba, I ever loved\nThee most, but more than ever love thee now,\nWho hast not fear\u2019d, seeing me, for my sake275\nTo quit the town, where others rest content.\n  To whom the Goddess, thus, cerulean-eyed.\nBrother! our parents with much earnest suit\nClasping my knees, and all my friends implored me\nTo stay in Troy, (such fear hath seized on all)280\nBut grief for thee prey\u2019d on my inmost soul.\nCome\u2014fight we bravely\u2014spare we now our spears\nNo longer; now for proof if Peleus\u2019 son\nSlaying us both, shall bear into the fleet\nOur arms gore-stain\u2019d, or perish slain by thee.285\n  So saying, the wily Goddess led the way.\nThey soon, approaching each the other, stood\nOpposite, and huge Hector thus began.\n  Pelides! I will fly thee now no more.\nThrice I have compass\u2019d Priam\u2019s spacious walls290\nA fugitive, and have not dared abide\nThy onset, but my heart now bids me stand\nDauntless, and I will slay, or will be slain.\nBut come. We will attest the Gods; for they\nAre fittest both to witness and to guard295\nOur covenant. If Jove to me vouchsafe\nThe hard-earn\u2019d victory, and to take thy life,\nI will not with dishonor foul insult\nThy body, but, thine armor stripp\u2019d, will give\nThee to thy friends, as thou shalt me to mine.300\n  To whom Achilles, lowering dark, replied.\nHector! my bitterest foe! speak not to me\nOf covenants! as concord can be none\nLions and men between, nor wolves and lambs\nCan be unanimous, but hate perforce305\nEach other by a law not to be changed,\nSo cannot amity subsist between\nThee and myself; nor league make I with thee\nOr compact, till thy blood in battle shed\nOr mine, shall gratify the fiery Mars.310\nRouse all thy virtue; thou hast utmost need\nOf valor now, and of address in arms.\nEscape me more thou canst not; Pallas\u2019 hand\nBy mine subdues thee; now will I avenge\nAt once the agonies of every Greek315\nIn thy unsparing fury slain by thee.\n  He said, and, brandishing the Pelian ash,\nDismiss\u2019d it; but illustrious Hector warn\u2019d,\nCrouched low, and, overflying him, it pierced\nThe soil beyond, whence Pallas plucking it320\nUnseen, restored it to Achilles\u2019 hand,\nAnd Hector to his godlike foe replied.\n  Godlike Achilles! thou hast err\u2019d, nor know\u2019st\nAt all my doom from Jove, as thou pretend\u2019st,\nBut seek\u2019st, by subtlety and wind of words,325\nAll empty sounds, to rob me of my might.\nYet stand I firm. Think not to pierce my back.\nBehold my bosom! if the Gods permit,\nMeet me advancing, and transpierce me there.\nMeantime avoid my glittering spear, but oh330\nMay\u2019st thou receive it all! since lighter far\nTo Ilium should the toils of battle prove,\nWert thou once slain, the fiercest of her foes.\n  He said, and hurling his long spear with aim\nUnerring, smote the centre of the shield335\nOf Peleus\u2019 son, but his spear glanced away.\nHe, angry to have sent it forth in vain,\n(For he had other none) with eyes downcast\nStood motionless awhile, then with loud voice\nSought from Deiphobus, white-shielded Chief,340\nA second; but Deiphobus was gone.\nThen Hector understood his doom, and said.\n  Ah, it is plain; this is mine hour to die.\nI thought Deiphobus at hand, but me\nPallas beguiled, and he is still in Troy.345\nA bitter death threatens me, it is nigh,\nAnd there is no escape; Jove, and Jove\u2019s son\nApollo, from the first, although awhile\nMy prompt deliverers, chose this lot for me,\nAnd now it finds me. But I will not fall350\nInglorious; I will act some great exploit\nThat shall be celebrated ages hence.\n  So saying, his keen falchion from his side\nHe drew, well-temper\u2019d, ponderous, and rush\u2019d\nAt once to combat. As the eagle darts355\nRight downward through a sullen cloud to seize\nWeak lamb or timorous hare, so brandishing\nHis splendid falchion, Hector rush\u2019d to fight.\nAchilles, opposite, with fellest ire\nFull-fraught came on; his shield with various art360\nCelestial form\u2019d, o\u2019erspread his ample chest,\nAnd on his radiant casque terrific waved\nThe bushy gold of his resplendent crest,\nBy Vulcan spun, and pour\u2019d profuse around.\nBright as, among the stars, the star of all365\nMost radiant, Hesperus, at midnight moves,\nSo, in the right hand of Achilles beam\u2019d\nHis brandish\u2019d spear, while, meditating wo\nTo Hector, he explored his noble form,\nSeeking where he was vulnerable most.370\nBut every part, his dazzling armor torn\nFrom brave Patroclus\u2019 body, well secured,\nSave where the circling key-bone from the neck\nDisjoins the shoulder; there his throat appear\u2019d,\nWhence injured life with swiftest flight escapes;375\nAchilles, plunging in that part his spear,\nImpell\u2019d it through the yielding flesh beyond.\nThe ashen beam his power of utterance left\nStill unimpair\u2019d, but in the dust he fell,\nAnd the exulting conqueror exclaim\u2019d.380\n  But Hector! thou hadst once far other hopes,\nAnd, stripping slain Patroclus, thought\u2019st thee safe,\nNor caredst for absent me. Fond dream and vain!\nI was not distant far; in yonder fleet\nHe left one able to avenge his death,385\nAnd he hath slain thee. Thee the dogs shall rend\nDishonorably, and the fowls of air,\nBut all Achaia\u2019s host shall him entomb.\n  To whom the Trojan Chief languid replied.\nBy thy own life, by theirs who gave thee birth,390\nAnd by thy knees,[13] oh let not Grecian dogs\nRend and devour me, but in gold accept\nAnd brass a ransom at my father\u2019s hands,\nAnd at my mother\u2019s an illustrious price;\nSend home my body, grant me burial rites395\nAmong the daughters and the sons of Troy.\n  To whom with aspect stern Achilles thus.\nDog! neither knees nor parents name to me.\nI would my fierceness of revenge were such,\nThat I could carve and eat thee, to whose arms400\nSuch griefs I owe; so true it is and sure,\nThat none shall save thy carcase from the dogs.\nNo, trust me, would thy parents bring me weigh\u2019d\nTen\u2014twenty ransoms, and engage on oath\nTo add still more; would thy Dardanian Sire405\nPriam, redeem thee with thy weight in gold,\nNot even at that price would I consent\nThat she who bare should place thee on thy bier\nWith lamentation; dogs and ravening fowls\nShall rend thy body while a scrap remains.410\n  Then, dying, warlike Hector thus replied.\nFull well I knew before, how suit of mine\nShould speed preferr\u2019d to thee. Thy heart is steel.\nBut oh, while yet thou livest, think, lest the Gods\nRequite thee on that day, when pierced thyself415\nBy Paris and Apollo, thou shalt fall,\nBrave as thou art, before the Sc\u00e6an gate.\n  He ceased, and death involved him dark around.\nHis spirit, from his limbs dismiss\u2019d, the house\nOf Ades sought, mourning in her descent420\nYouth\u2019s prime and vigor lost, disastrous doom!\nBut him though dead, Achilles thus bespake.\n  Die thou. My death shall find me at what hour\nJove gives commandment, and the Gods above.\n  He spake, and from the dead drawing away425\nHis brazen spear, placed it apart, then stripp\u2019d\nHis arms gore-stain\u2019d. Meantime the other sons\nOf the Achaians, gathering fast around,\nThe bulk admired, and the proportion just\nOf Hector; neither stood a Grecian there430\nWho pierced him not, and thus the soldier spake.\n  Ye Gods! how far more patient of the touch\nIs Hector now, than when he fired the fleet!\n  Thus would they speak, then give him each a stab.\nAnd now, the body stripp\u2019d, their noble Chief435\nThe swift Achilles standing in the midst,\nThe Grecians in wing\u2019d accents thus address\u2019d.\n  Friends, Chiefs and Senators of Argos\u2019 host!\nSince, by the will of heaven, this man is slain\nWho harm\u2019d us more than all our foes beside,440\nEssay we next the city, so to learn\nThe Trojan purpose, whether (Hector slain)\nThey will forsake the citadel, or still\nDefend it, even though of him deprived.\nBut wherefore speak I thus? still undeplored,445\nUnburied in my fleet Patroclus lies;\nHim never, while alive myself, I mix\nWith living men and move, will I forget.\nIn Ades, haply, they forget the dead,\nYet will not I Patroclus, even there.450\nNow chanting p\u00e6ans, ye Achaian youths!\nReturn we to the fleet with this our prize;\nWe have achieved great glory,[14] we have slain\nIllustrious Hector, him whom Ilium praised\nIn all her gates, and as a God revered.455\n  He said; then purposing dishonor foul\nTo noble Hector, both his feet he bored\nFrom heel to ancle, and, inserting thongs,\nThem tied behind his chariot, but his head\nLeft unsustain\u2019d to trail along the ground.460\nAscending next, the armor at his side\nHe placed, then lash\u2019d the steeds; they willing flew\nThick dust around the body dragg\u2019d arose,\nHis sable locks all swept the plain, and all\nHis head, so graceful once, now track\u2019d the dust,465\nFor Jove had given it into hostile hands\nThat they might shame it in his native soil.[15]\nThus, whelm\u2019d in dust, it went. The mother Queen\nHer son beholding, pluck\u2019d her hair away,\nCast far aside her lucid veil, and fill\u2019d470\nWith shrieks the air. His father wept aloud,\nAnd, all around, long, long complaints were heard\nAnd lamentations in the streets of Troy,\nNot fewer or less piercing, than if flames\nHad wrapt all Ilium to her topmost towers.475\nHis people scarce detain\u2019d the ancient King\nGrief-stung, and resolute to issue forth\nThrough the Dardanian gates; to all he kneel\u2019d\nIn turn, then roll\u2019d himself in dust, and each\nBy name solicited to give him way.480\n  Stand off, my fellow mourners! I would pass\nThe gates, would seek, alone, the Grecian fleet.\nI go to supplicate the bloody man,\nYon ravager; he may respect, perchance,\nMy years, may feel some pity of my age;485\nFor, such as I am, his own father is,\nPeleus, who rear\u2019d him for a curse to Troy,\nBut chiefly rear\u2019d him to myself a curse,\nSo numerous have my sons in prime of youth\nFall\u2019n by his hand, all whom I less deplore490\n(Though mourning all) than one; my agonies\nFor Hector soon shall send me to the shades.\nOh had he but within these arms expired,\nThe hapless Queen who bore him, and myself\nHad wept him, then, till sorrow could no more!495\n  So spake he weeping, and the citizens\nAll sigh\u2019d around; next, Hecuba began\nAmid the women, thus, her sad complaint.\n  Ah wherefore, oh my son! wretch that I am,\nBreathe I forlorn of thee? Thou, night and day,500\nMy glory wast in Ilium, thee her sons\nAnd daughters, both, hail\u2019d as their guardian God,\nConscious of benefits from thee received,\nWhose life prolong\u2019d should have advanced them all\nTo high renown. Vain boast! thou art no more.505\n  So mourn\u2019d the Queen. But fair Andromache\nNought yet had heard, nor knew by sure report\nHector\u2019s delay without the city gates.\nShe in a closet of her palace sat,\nA twofold web weaving magnificent,510\nWith sprinkled flowers inwrought of various hues,\nAnd to her maidens had commandment given\nThrough all her house, that compassing with fire\nAn ample tripod, they should warm a bath\nFor noble Hector from the fight return\u2019d.515\nTenderness ill-inform\u2019d! she little knew\nThat in the field, from such refreshments far,\nPallas had slain him by Achilles\u2019 hand.\nShe heard a cry of sorrow from the tower;\nHer limbs shook under her, her shuttle fell,520\nAnd to her bright-hair\u2019d train, alarm\u2019d, she cried.\n  Attend me two of you, that I may learn\nWhat hath befallen. I have heard the voice\nOf the Queen-mother; my rebounding heart\nChokes me, and I seem fetter\u2019d by a frost.525\nSome mischief sure o\u2019er Priam\u2019s sons impends.\nFar be such tidings from me! but I fear\nHorribly, lest Achilles, cutting off\nMy dauntless Hector from the gates alone,\nEnforce him to the field, and quell perhaps530\nThe might, this moment, of that dreadful arm\nHis hinderance long; for Hector ne\u2019er was wont\nTo seek his safety in the ranks, but flew\nFirst into battle, yielding place to none.\n  So saying, she rush\u2019d with palpitating heart535\nAnd frantic air abroad, by her two maids\nAttended; soon arriving at the tower,\nAnd at the throng of men, awhile she stood\nDown-looking wistful from the city-wall,\nAnd, seeing him in front of Ilium, dragg\u2019d540\nSo cruelly toward the fleet of Greece,\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with sudden darkness at the view\nFell backward, with a sigh heard all around.\nFar distant flew dispersed her head-attire,\nTwist, frontlet, diadem, and even the veil545\nBy golden Venus given her on the day\nWhen Hector led her from E\u00ebtion\u2019s house\nEnrich\u2019d with nuptial presents to his home.\nAround her throng\u2019d her sisters of the house\nOf Priam, numerous, who within their arms550\nFast held her[16] loathing life; but she, her breath\nAt length and sense recovering, her complaint\nBroken with sighs amid them thus began.\n  Hector! I am undone; we both were born\nTo misery, thou in Priam\u2019s house in Troy,555\nAnd I in Hypoplacian Thebes wood-crown\u2019d\nBeneath E\u00ebtion\u2019s roof. He, doom\u2019d himself\nTo sorrow, me more sorrowfully doom\u2019d,\nSustain\u2019d in helpless infancy, whom oh\nThat he had ne\u2019er begotten! thou descend\u2019st560\nTo Pluto\u2019s subterraneous dwelling drear,\nLeaving myself destitute, and thy boy,\nFruit of our hapless loves, an infant yet,\nNever to be hereafter thy delight,\nNor love of thine to share or kindness more.565\nFor should he safe survive this cruel war,\nWith the Achaians penury and toil\nMust be his lot, since strangers will remove\nAt will his landmarks, and possess his fields.\nThee lost, he loses all, of father, both,570\nAnd equal playmate in one day deprived,\nTo sad looks doom\u2019d, and never-ceasing-tears.\nHe seeks, necessitous his father\u2019s friends,\nOne by his mantle pulls, one by his vest,\nWhose utmost pity yields to his parch\u2019d lips575\nA thirst-provoking drop, and grudges more;\nSome happier child, as yet untaught to mourn\nA parent\u2019s loss, shoves rudely from the board\nMy son, and, smiting him, reproachful cries\u2014\nAway\u2014thy father is no guest of ours\u2014580\nThen, weeping, to his widow\u2019d mother comes\nAstyanax, who on his father\u2019s lap\nAte marrow only, once, and fat of lambs,[17]\nAnd when sleep took him, and his crying fit\nHad ceased, slept ever on the softest bed,585\nWarm in his nurse\u2019s arms, fed to his fill\nWith delicacies, and his heart at rest.\nBut now, Astyanax (so named in Troy\nFor thy sake, guardian of her gates and towers)\nHis father lost, must many a pang endure.590\nAnd as for thee, cast naked forth among\nYon galleys, where no parent\u2019s eye of thine\nShall find thee, when the dogs have torn thee once\nTill they are sated, worms shall eat thee next.\nMeantime, thy graceful raiment rich, prepared595\nBy our own maidens, in thy palace lies;\nBut I will burn it, burn it all, because\nUseless to thee, who never, so adorn\u2019d,\nShalt slumber more; yet every eye in Troy\nShall see, how glorious once was thy attire.[18]600\n  So, weeping, she; to whom the multitude\nOf Trojan dames responsive sigh\u2019d around.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XXIII.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-THIRD BOOK.\n\nThe body of Patroclus is burned, and the funeral games ensue.\n\n\nBOOK XXIII.\n\n\nSuch mourning was in Troy; meantime the Greeks\nTheir galleys and the shores of Hellespont\nRegaining, each to his own ship retired.\nBut not the Myrmidons; Achilles them\nClose rank\u2019d in martial order still detain\u2019d,5\nAnd thus his fellow-warriors brave address\u2019d.\n  Ye swift-horsed Myrmidons, associates dear!\nRelease not from your chariots yet your steeds\nFirm-hoof\u2019d, but steeds and chariots driving near,\nBewail Patroclus, as the rites demand10\nOf burial; then, satiate with grief and tears,\nWe will release our steeds, and take repast.\n  He ended, and, himself leading the way,\nHis numerous band all mourn\u2019d at once the dead.\nAround the body thrice their glossy steeds,15\nMourning they drove, while Thetis in their hearts\nThe thirst of sorrow kindled; they with tears\nThe sands bedew\u2019d, with tears their radiant arms,\nSuch deep regret of one so brave they felt.\nThen, placing on the bosom of his friend20\nHis homicidal hands, Achilles thus\nThe shade of his Patroclus, sad, bespake.\n  Hail, oh Patroclus, even in Ades hail!\nFor I will now accomplish to the full\nMy promise pledged to thee, that I would give25\nHector dragg\u2019d hither to be torn by dogs\nPiecemeal, and would before thy funeral pile\nThe necks dissever of twelve Trojan youths\nOf noblest rank, resentful of thy death.\n  He said, and meditating foul disgrace30\nTo noble Hector, stretch\u2019d him prone in dust\nBeside the bier of Men\u0153tiades.\nThen all the Myrmidons their radiant arms\nPut off, and their shrill-neighing steeds released.\nA numerous band beside the bark they sat35\nOf swift \u00c6acides, who furnish\u2019d forth\nHimself a feast funereal for them all.\nMany a white ox under the ruthless steel\nLay bleeding, many a sheep and blatant goat,\nWith many a saginated boar bright-tusk\u2019d,40\nAmid fierce flames Vulcanian stretch\u2019d to roast.\nCopious the blood ran all around the dead.\n  And now the Kings of Greece conducted thence\nTo Agamemnon\u2019s tent the royal son\nOf Peleus, loth to go, and won at last45\nWith difficulty, such his anger was\nAnd deep resentment of his slaughter\u2019d friend.\nSoon then as Agamemnon\u2019s tent they reach\u2019d,\nThe sovereign bade his heralds kindle fire\nAround an ample vase, with purpose kind50\nMoving Achilles from his limbs to cleanse\nThe stains of battle; but he firm refused\nThat suit, and bound refusal with an oath\u2014\n  No; by the highest and the best of all,\nBy Jove I will not. Never may it be55\nThat brazen bath approach this head of mine,\nTill I shall first Patroclus\u2019 body give\nTo his last fires, till I shall pile his tomb,\nAnd sheer my locks in honor of my friend;\nFor, like to this, no second wo shall e\u2019er60\nMy heart invade, while vital breath I draw.\nBut, all unwelcome as it is, repast\nNow calls us. Agamemnon, King of men!\nGive thou command that at the dawn they bring\nWood hither, such large portion as beseems65\nThe dead, descending to the shades, to share,\nThat hungry flames consuming out of sight\nHis body soon, the host may war again.\n  He spake; they, hearing, readily obey\u2019d.\nThen, each his food preparing with dispatch,70\nThey ate, nor wanted any of the guests\nDue portion, and their appetites sufficed\nTo food and wine, all to their tents repair\u2019d\nSeeking repose; but on the sands beside\nThe billowy deep Achilles groaning lay75\nAmidst his Myrmidons, where space he found\nWith blood unstain\u2019d beside the dashing wave.[1]\nThere, soon as sleep, deliverer of the mind,\nWrapp\u2019d him around (for much his noble limbs\nWith chase of Hector round the battlements80\nOf wind-swept Ilium wearied were and spent)\nThe soul came to him of his hapless friend,\nIn bulk resembling, in expressive eyes\nAnd voice Patroclus, and so clad as he.\nHim, hovering o\u2019er his head, the form address\u2019d.85\n  Sleep\u2019st thou, Achilles! of thy friend become\nHeedless? Him living thou didst not neglect\nWhom thou neglectest dead. Give me a tomb\nInstant, that I may pass the infernal gates.\nFor now, the shades and spirits of the dead90\nDrive me afar, denying me my wish\nTo mingle with them on the farthest shore,\nAnd in wide-portal\u2019d Ades sole I roam.\nGive me thine hand, I pray thee, for the earth\nI visit never more, once burnt with fire;95\nWe never shall again close council hold\nAs we were wont, for me my fate severe,\nMine even from my birth, hath deep absorb\u2019d.\nAnd oh Achilles, semblance of the Gods!\nThou too predestined art beneath the wall100\nTo perish of the high-born Trojan race.\nBut hear my last injunction! ah, my friend!\nMy bones sepulchre not from thine apart,\nBut as, together we were nourish\u2019d both\nBeneath thy roof (what time from Opo\u00ebis105\nMen\u0153tius led me to thy father\u2019s house,\nAlthough a child, yet fugitive for blood,\nWhich, in a quarrel at the dice, I spilt,\nKilling my playmate by a casual blow,\nThe offspring of Amphidamas, when, like110\nA father, Peleus with all tenderness\nReceived and cherish\u2019d me, and call\u2019d me thine)\nSo, let one vase inclose, at last, our bones,\nThe golden vase, thy Goddess mother\u2019s gift.[2]\n  To whom Achilles, matchless in the race.115\nAh, loved and honor\u2019d! wherefore hast thou come!\nWhy thus enjoin\u2019d me? I will all perform\nWith diligence that thou hast now desired.\nBut nearer stand, that we may mutual clasp\nEach other, though but with a short embrace,120\nAnd sad satiety of grief enjoy.\n  He said, and stretch\u2019d his arms toward the shade,\nBut him seized not; shrill-clamoring and light\nAs smoke, the spirit pass\u2019d into the earth.\nAmazed, upsprang Achilles, clash\u2019d aloud125\nHis palms together, and thus, sad, exclaim\u2019d.\n  Ah then, ye Gods! there doubtless are below\nThe soul and semblance both, but empty forms;\nFor all night long, mourning, disconsolate,\nThe soul of my Patroclus, hapless friend!130\nHath hover\u2019d o\u2019er me, giving me in charge\nHis last requests, just image of himself.\n  So saying, he call\u2019d anew their sorrow forth,\nAnd rosy-palm\u2019d Aurora found them all\nMourning afresh the pitiable dead.135\nThen royal Agamemnon call\u2019d abroad\nMules and mule-drivers from the tents in haste\nTo gather wood. Uprose a valiant man,\nFriend of the virtuous Chief Idomeneus,\nMeriones, who led them to the task.140\nThey, bearing each in hand his sharpen\u2019d axe\nAnd twisted cord, thence journey\u2019d forth, the mules\nDriving before them; much uneven space\nThey measured, hill and dale, right onward now,\nAnd now circuitous; but at the groves145\nArrived at length, of Ida fountain-fed,\nTheir keen-edged axes to the towering oaks\nDispatchful they applied; down fell the trees\nWith crash sonorous. Splitting, next, the trunks,\nThey bound them on the mules; they, with firm hoofs150\nThe hill-side stamping, through the thickets rush\u2019d\nDesirous of the plain. Each man his log\n(For so the armor-bearer of the King\nOf Crete, Meriones, had them enjoin\u2019d)\nBore after them, and each his burthen cast155\nDown on the beach regular, where a tomb\nOf ample size Achilles for his friend\nPatroclus had, and for himself, design\u2019d.\n  Much fuel thrown together, side by side\nThere down they sat, and his command at once160\nAchilles issued to his warriors bold,\nThat all should gird their armor, and the steeds\nJoin to their chariots; undelaying each\nComplied, and in bright arms stood soon array\u2019d.\nThen mounted combatants and charioteers.165\nFirst, moved the chariots, next, the infantry\nProceeded numerous, amid whom his friends,\nBearing the body of Patroclus, went.\nThey poll\u2019d their heads, and cover\u2019d him with hair\nShower\u2019d over all his body, while behind170\nNoble Achilles march\u2019d, the hero\u2019s head\nSustaining sorrowful, for to the realms\nOf Ades a distinguish\u2019d friend he sent.\n  And now, arriving on the ground erewhile\nMark\u2019d by Achilles, setting down the dead,175\nThey heap\u2019d the fuel quick, a lofty pile.[3]\nBut Peleus\u2019 son, on other thoughts intent,\nRetiring from the funeral pile, shore off\nHis amber ringlets,[4] whose exuberant growth\nSacred to Sperchius he had kept unshorn,180\nAnd looking o\u2019er the gloomy deep, he said.\n  Sperchius! in vain Peleus my father vow\u2019d\nThat, hence returning to my native land,\nThese ringlets shorn I should present to thee[5]\nWith a whole hecatomb, and should, beside,185\nRams offer fifty at thy fountain head\nIn thy own field, at thy own fragrant shrine.\nSo vow\u2019d the hoary Chief, whose wishes thou\nLeavest unperform\u2019d. Since, therefore, never more\nI see my native home, the hero these190\nPatroclus takes down with him to the shades.\n  He said, and filling with his hair the hand\nOf his dead friend, the sorrows of his train\nWaken\u2019d afresh. And now the lamp of day\nWestering[6] apace, had left them still in tears,195\nHad not Achilles suddenly address\u2019d\nKing Agamemnon, standing at his side.\n  Atrides! (for Achaia\u2019s sons thy word\nWill readiest execute) we may with grief\nSatiate ourselves hereafter; but, the host200\nDispersing from the pile, now give command\nThat they prepare repast; ourselves,[7] to whom\nThese labors in peculiar appertain\nWill finish them; but bid the Chiefs abide.\n  Which when imperial Agamemnon heard,205\nHe scatter\u2019d instant to their several ships\nThe people; but the burial-dressers thence\nWent not; they, still abiding, heap\u2019d the pile.\nA hundred feet of breadth from side to side\nThey gave to it, and on the summit placed210\nWith sorrowing hearts the body of the dead.\nMany a fat sheep, with many an ox full-horn\u2019d\nThey flay\u2019d before the pile, busy their task\nAdministering, and Peleus\u2019 son the fat\nTaking from every victim, overspread215\nComplete the body with it of his friend[8]\nPatroclus, and the flay\u2019d beasts heap\u2019d around.\nThen, placing flagons on the pile, replete\nWith oil and honey, he inclined their mouths\nToward the bier, and slew and added next,220\nDeep-groaning and in haste, four martial steeds.\nNine dogs the hero at his table fed,\nOf which beheading two, their carcases\nHe added also. Last, twelve gallant sons\nOf noble Trojans slaying (for his heart225\nTeem\u2019d with great vengeance) he applied the force\nOf hungry flames that should devour the whole,\nThen, mourning loud, by name his friend invoked.\n  Rejoice, Patroclus! even in the shades,\nBehold my promise to thee all fulfill\u2019d!230\nTwelve gallant sons of Trojans famed in arms,\nTogether with thyself, are all become\nFood for these fires: but fire shall never feed\nOn Hector; him I destine to the dogs.\n  So threaten\u2019d he; but him no dogs devour\u2019d;235\nThem, day and night, Jove\u2019s daughter Venus chased\nAfar, and smooth\u2019d the hero o\u2019er with oils\nOf rosy scent ambrosial, lest his corse,\nBehind Achilles\u2019 chariot dragg\u2019d along\nSo rudely, should be torn; and Ph\u0153bus hung240\nA veil of sable clouds from heaven to earth,\nO\u2019ershadowing broad the space where Hector lay,\nLest parching suns intense should stiffen him.\n  But the pile kindled not. Then, Peleus\u2019 son\nSeeking a place apart, two Winds in prayer245\nBoreas invoked and Zephyrus, to each\nVowing large sacrifice. With earnest suit\n(Libation pouring from a golden cup)\nTheir coming he implored, that so the flames\nKindling, incontinent might burn the dead.250\nIris, his supplications hearing, swift\nConvey\u2019d them to the Winds; they, in the hall\nBanqueting of the heavy-blowing West\nSat frequent. Iris, sudden at the gate\nAppear\u2019d; they, at the sight upstarting all,255\nInvited each the Goddess to himself.\nBut she refused a seat and thus she spake.[9]\n  I sit not here. Borne over Ocean\u2019s stream\nAgain, to \u00c6thiopia\u2019s land I go\nWhere hecatombs are offer\u2019d to the Gods,260\nWhich, with the rest, I also wish to share.\nBut Peleus\u2019 son, earnest, the aid implores\nOf Boreas and of Zephyrus the loud,\nVowing large sacrifice if ye will fan\nBriskly the pile on which Patroclus lies265\nBy all Achaia\u2019s warriors deep deplored.\n  She said, and went. Then suddenly arose\nThe Winds, and, roaring, swept the clouds along.\nFirst, on the sea they blew; big rose the waves\nBeneath the blast. At fruitful Troy arrived270\nVehement on the pile they fell, and dread\nOn all sides soon a crackling blaze ensued.\nAll night, together blowing shrill, they drove\nThe sheeted flames wide from the funeral pile,\nAnd all night long, a goblet in his hand275\nFrom golden beakers fill\u2019d, Achilles stood\nWith large libations soaking deep the soil,\nAnd calling on the spirit of his friend.\nAs some fond father mourns, burning the bones\nOf his own son, who, dying on the eve280\nOf his glad nuptials, hath his parents left\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with inconsolable distress,\nSo mourn\u2019d Achilles, his companion\u2019s bones\nBurning, and pacing to and fro the field\nBeside the pile with many a sigh profound.285\nBut when the star, day\u2019s harbinger, arose,\nSoon after whom, in saffron vest attired\nThe morn her beams diffuses o\u2019er the sea,\nThe pile, then wasted, ceased to flame, and then\nBack flew the Winds over the Thracian deep290\nRolling the flood before them as they pass\u2019d.\nAnd now Pelides lying down apart\nFrom the funereal pile, slept, but not long,\nThough weary; waken\u2019d by the stir and din\nOf Agamemnon\u2019s train. He sat erect,295\nAnd thus the leaders of the host address\u2019d.\n  Atrides, and ye potentates who rule\nThe whole Achaian host! first quench the pile\nThroughout with generous wine, where\u2019er the fire\nHath seized it. We will then the bones collect300\nOf Men\u0153tiades, which shall with ease\nBe known, though many bones lie scatter\u2019d near,\nSince in the middle pile Patroclus lay,\nBut wide apart and on its verge we burn\u2019d\nThe steeds and Trojans, a promiscuous heap.305\nThem so collected in a golden vase\nWe will dispose, lined with a double cawl,\nTill I shall, also, to my home below.\nI wish not now a tomb of amplest bounds,\nBut such as may suffice, which yet in height310\nThe Grecians and in breadth shall much augment\nHereafter, who, survivors of my fate,\nShall still remain in the Achaian fleet.\n  So spake Pelides, and the Chiefs complied.\nWhere\u2019er the pile had blazed, with generous wine315\nThey quench\u2019d it, and the hills of ashes sank.\nThen, weeping, to a golden vase, with lard\nTwice lined, they gave their gentle comrade\u2019s bones\nFire-bleach\u2019d, and lodging safely in his tent\nThe relics, overspread them with a veil.320\nDesigning, next, the compass of the tomb,\nThey mark\u2019d its boundary with stones, then fill\u2019d\nThe wide enclosure hastily with earth,\nAnd, having heap\u2019d it to its height, return\u2019d.\nBut all the people, by Achilles still325\nDetain\u2019d, there sitting, form\u2019d a spacious ring,\nAnd he the destined prizes from his fleet\nProduced, capacious caldrons, tripods bright,\nSteeds, mules, tall oxen, women at the breast\nClose-cinctured, elegant, and unwrought[10] iron.330\nFirst, to the chariot-drivers he proposed\nA noble prize; a beauteous maiden versed\nIn arts domestic, with a tripod ear\u2019d,\nOf twenty and two measures. These he made\nThe conqueror\u2019s meed. The second should a mare335\nObtain, unbroken yet, six years her age,\nPregnant, and bearing in her womb a mule.\nA caldron of four measures, never smirch\u2019d\nBy smoke or flame, but fresh as from the forge\nThe third awaited; to the fourth he gave340\nTwo golden talents, and, unsullied yet\nBy use, a twin-ear\u2019d phial[11] to the fifth.\nHe stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.\n\n  Atrides, and ye chiefs of all the host!\nThese prizes, in the circus placed, attend345\nThe charioteers. Held we the present games\nIn honor of some other Grecian dead,\nI would myself bear hence the foremost prize;\nFor ye are all witnesses well-inform\u2019d\nOf the superior virtue of my steeds.350\nThey are immortal; Neptune on my sire\nPeleus conferr\u2019d them, and my sire on me.\nBut neither I this contest share myself,\nNor shall my steeds; for they would miss the force\nAnd guidance of a charioteer so kind355\nAs they have lost, who many a time hath cleansed\nTheir manes with water of the crystal brook,\nAnd made them sleek, himself, with limpid oil.\nHim, therefore, mourning, motionless they stand\nWith hair dishevell\u2019d, streaming to the ground.360\nBut ye, whoever of the host profess\nSuperior skill, and glory in your steeds\nAnd well-built chariots, for the strife prepare!\n  So spake Pelides, and the charioteers,\nFor speed renown\u2019d arose. Long ere the rest365\nEumelus, King of men, Admetus\u2019 son\nArose, accomplish\u2019d in equestrian arts.\nNext, Tydeus\u2019 son, brave Diomede, arose;\nHe yoked the Trojan coursers by himself\nIn battle from \u00c6neas won, what time370\nApollo saved their master. Third, upstood\nThe son of Atreus with the golden locks,\nWho to his chariot Agamemnon\u2019s mare\nSwift \u00c6the and his own Podargus join\u2019d.\nHer Echepolus from Anchises sprung375\nTo Agamemnon gave; she was the price\nAt which he purchased leave to dwell at home\nExcused attendance on the King at Troy;\nFor, by the gift of Jove, he had acquired\nGreat riches, and in wide-spread Sicyon dwelt.380\nHer wing\u2019d with ardor, Menelaus yoked.\nAntilochus, arising fourth, his steeds\nBright-maned prepared, son of the valiant King\nOf Pylus, Nestor Nele\u00efades.\nOf Pylian breed were they, and thus his sire,385\nWith kind intent approaching to his side,\nAdvised him, of himself not uninform\u2019d.[12]\n  Antilochus! Thou art, I know, beloved\nBy Jove and Neptune both, from whom, though young\nThou hast received knowledge of every art390\nEquestrian, and hast little need to learn.\nThou know\u2019st already how to trim the goal\nWith nicest skill, yet wondrous slow of foot\nThy coursers are, whence evil may ensue.\nBut though their steeds be swifter, I account395\nThee wise, at least, as they. Now is the time\nFor counsel, furnish now thy mind with all\nPrecaution, that the prize escape thee not.\nThe feller of huge trees by skill prevails\nMore than by strength; by skill the pilot guides400\nHis flying bark rock\u2019d by tempestuous winds,\nAnd more by skill than speed the race is won.\nBut he who in his chariot and his steeds\nTrusts only, wanders here and wanders there\nUnsteady, while his coursers loosely rein\u2019d405\nRoam wide the field; not so the charioteer\nOf sound intelligence; he though he drive\nInferior steeds, looks ever to the goal\nWhich close he clips, not ignorant to check\nHis coursers at the first but with tight rein410\nRuling his own, and watching those before.\nNow mark; I will describe so plain the goal\nThat thou shalt know it surely. A dry stump\nExtant above the ground an ell in height\nStands yonder; either oak it is, or pine415\nMore likely, which the weather least impairs.\nTwo stones, both white, flank it on either hand.\nThe way is narrow there, but smooth the course\nOn both sides. It is either, as I think,\nA monument of one long since deceased,420\nOr was, perchance, in ancient days design\u2019d,\nAs now by Peleus\u2019 mighty son, a goal.\nThat mark in view, thy steeds and chariot push\nNear to it as thou may\u2019st; then, in thy seat\nInclining gently to the left, prick smart425\nThy right-hand horse challenging him aloud,\nAnd give him rein; but let thy left-hand horse\nBear on the goal so closely, that the nave\nAnd felly[13] of thy wheel may seem to meet.\nYet fear to strike the stone, lest foul disgrace430\nOf broken chariot and of crippled steeds\nEnsue, and thou become the public jest.\nMy boy beloved! use caution; for if once\nThou turn the goal at speed, no man thenceforth\nShall reach, or if he reach, shall pass thee by,435\nAlthough Arion in thy rear he drove\nAdrastus\u2019 rapid horse of race divine,\nOr those, Troy\u2019s boast, bred by Laomedon.\n  So Nestor spake, inculcating with care\nOn his son\u2019s mind these lessons in the art,440\nAnd to his place retiring, sat again.\nMeriones his coursers glossy-maned\nMade ready last. Then to his chariot-seat\nEach mounted, and the lots were thrown; himself\nAchilles shook them. First, forth leap\u2019d the lot445\nOf Nestor\u2019s son Antilochus, after whom\nThe King Eumelus took his destined place.\nThe third was Menelaus spear-renown\u2019d;\nMeriones the fourth; and last of all,\nBravest of all, heroic Diomede450\nThe son of Tydeus took his lot to drive.\nSo ranged they stood; Achilles show\u2019d the goal\nFar on the champain, nigh to which he placed\nThe godlike Ph\u0153nix servant of his sire,\nTo mark the race and make a true report.455\n  All raised the lash at once, and with the reins\nAt once all smote their steeds, urging them on\nVociferous; they, sudden, left the fleet\nFar, far behind them, scouring swift the plain.\nDark, like a stormy cloud, uprose the dust460\nTheir chests beneath, and scatter\u2019d in the wind\nTheir manes all floated; now the chariots swept\nThe low declivity unseen, and now\nEmerging started into view; erect\nThe drivers stood; emulous, every heart465\nBeat double; each encouraged loud his steeds;\nThey, flying, fill\u2019d with dust the darken\u2019d air.\nBut when returning to the hoary deep\nThey ran their last career, then each display\u2019d\nBrightest his charioteership, and the race470\nLay stretch\u2019d, at once, into its utmost speed.\nThen, soon the mares of Pheretiades[14]\nPass\u2019d all, but Diomede behind him came,\nBorne by his unemasculated steeds\nOf Trojan pedigree; they not remote,475\nBut close pursued him; and at every pace\nSeem\u2019d entering both; the chariot at their head,\nFor blowing warm into Eumelus\u2019 neck\nBehind, and on his shoulders broad, they went,\nAnd their chins rested on him as they flew.480\nThen had Tydides pass\u2019d him, or had made\nDecision dubious, but Apollo struck,\nResentful,[15] from his hand the glittering scourge.\nFast roll\u2019d the tears indignant down his cheeks,\nFor he beheld the mares with double speed,485\nFlying, and of the spur deprived, his own\nRetarded steeds continual thrown behind.\nBut not unnoticed by Minerva pass\u2019d\nThe art by Ph\u0153bus practised to impede\nThe son of Tydeus, whom with winged haste490\nFollowing, she gave to him his scourge again,\nAnd with new force his lagging steeds inspired.\nEumelus, next, the angry Goddess, swift\nPursuing, snapt his yoke; wide flew the mares\nAsunder, and the pole fell to the ground.495\nHimself, roll\u2019d from his seat, fast by the wheel\nWith lacerated elbows, nostrils, mouth,\nAnd batter\u2019d brows lay prone; sorrow his eyes\nDeluged, and disappointment chok\u2019d his voice.\nThen, far outstripping all, Tydides push\u2019d500\nHis steeds beyond, which Pallas fill\u2019d with power\nThat she might make the glorious prize his own.\nHim follow\u2019d Menelaus amber-hair\u2019d,\nThe son of Atreus, and his father\u2019s steeds\nEncouraging, thus spake Antilochus.505\n  Away\u2014now stretch ye forward to the goal.\nI bid you not to an unequal strife\nWith those of Diomede, for Pallas them\nQuickens that he may conquer, and the Chief\nSo far advanced makes competition vain.510\nBut reach the son of Atreus, fly to reach\nHis steeds, incontinent; ah, be not shamed\nFor ever, foil\u2019d by \u00c6the, by a mare!\nWhy fall ye thus behind, my noblest steeds?\nI tell you both, and ye shall prove me true,515\nNo favor shall ye find at Nestor\u2019s hands,\nMy valiant sire, but he will thrust his spear\nRight through you, should we lose, for sloth of yours,\nOr by your negligence, the nobler prize.\nHaste then\u2014pursue him\u2014reach the royal Chief\u2014520\nAnd how to pass him in yon narrow way\nShall be my care, and not my care in vain.\n  He ended; they, awhile, awed by his voice,\nWith more exertion ran, and Nestor\u2019s son\nNow saw the hollow strait mark\u2019d by his sire.525\nIt was a chasm abrupt, where winter-floods,\nWearing the soil, had gullied deep the way.\nThither Atrides, anxious to avoid\nA clash of chariots drove, and thither drove\nAlso, but somewhat devious from his track,530\nAntilochus. Then Menelaus fear\u2019d,\nAnd with loud voice the son of Nestor hail\u2019d.\n  Antilochus, at what a madman\u2019s rate\nDrivest thou! stop\u2014check thy steeds\u2014the way is here\nToo strait, but widening soon, will give thee scope535\nTo pass me by; beware, lest chariot close\nTo chariot driven, thou maim thyself and me.\n  He said; but still more rapid and the scourge\nPlying continual, as he had not heard,\nAntilochus came on. Far as the quoit540\nBy some broad-shoulder\u2019d youth for trial hurl\u2019d\nOf manhood flies, so far Antilochus\nShot forward; but the coursers fell behind\nOf Atreus\u2019 son, who now abated much\nBy choice his driving, lest the steeds of both545\nJostling, should overturn with sudden shock\nBoth chariots, and themselves in dust be roll\u2019d,\nThrough hot ambition of the foremost prize.\nHim then the hero golden-hair\u2019d reproved.\n  Antilochus! the man lives not on earth550\nLike thee for love of mischief. Go, extoll\u2019d\nFor wisdom falsely by the sons of Greece.\nYet, trust me, not without an oath, the prize\nThus foully sought shall even now be thine.\n  He said, and to his coursers call\u2019d aloud.555\nAh be not tardy; stand not sorrow-check\u2019d;\nTheir feet will fail them sooner far than yours,\nFor years have pass\u2019d since they had youth to boast.\n  So he; and springing at his voice, his steeds\nRegain\u2019d apace the vantage lost. Meantime560\nThe Grecians, in full circus seated, mark\u2019d\nThe steeds; they flying, fill\u2019d with dust the air.\nThen, ere the rest, Idomeneus discern\u2019d\nThe foremost pair; for, on a rising ground\nExalted, he without the circus sat,565\nAnd hearing, though remote, the driver\u2019s voice\nChiding his steeds, knew it, and knew beside\nThe leader horse distinguish\u2019d by his hue,\nChestnut throughout, save that his forehead bore\nA splendid blazon white, round as the moon.570\n  He stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.\nFriends! Chiefs and senators of Argos\u2019 host!\nDiscern I sole the steeds, or also ye?\nThe horses, foremost now, to me appear\nOther than erst, and I descry at hand575\nA different charioteer; the mares of late\nVictorious, somewhere distant in the race\nAre hurt; I plainly saw them at the first\nTurning the goal, but see them now no more;\nAnd yet with eyes inquisitive I range580\nFrom side to side the whole broad plain of Troy.\nEither the charioteer hath slipp\u2019d the reins,\nOr rounded not successfully the goal\nThrough want of guidance. Thrown, as it should seem,\nForth from his seat, he hath his chariot maim\u2019d,585\nAnd his ungovern\u2019d steeds have roam\u2019d away.\nArise and look ye forth yourselves, for I\nWith doubtful ken behold him; yet the man\nSeems, in my view, \u00c6tolian by descent,\nA Chief of prime renown in Argos\u2019 host,590\nThe hero Tydeus\u2019 son, brave Diomede,\n  But Ajax O\u00efliades the swift\nHim sharp reproved. Why art thou always given\nTo prate, Idomeneus? thou seest the mares,\nRemote indeed, but posting to the goal.595\nThou art not youngest of the Argives here\nSo much, nor from beneath thy brows look forth\nQuick-sighted more than ours, thine eyes abroad.\nYet still thou pratest, although silence more\nShould suit thee, among wiser far than thou.600\nThe mares which led, lead still, and he who drives\nEumelus is, the same who drove before.\n  To whom the Cretan Chief, angry, replied.\nAjax! whom none in wrangling can excel\nOr rudeness, though in all beside thou fall605\nBelow the Argives, being boorish-rough,\nCome now\u2014a tripod let us wager each,\nOr caldron, and let Agamemnon judge\nWhose horses lead, that, losing, thou may\u2019st learn.\n  He said; then sudden from his seat upsprang610\nSwift Ajax O\u00efliades, prepared\nFor harsh retort, nor had the contest ceased\nBetween them, but had grown from ill to worse,\nHad not himself, Achilles, interposed.\n  Ajax\u2014Idomeneus\u2014abstain ye both615\nFrom bitter speech offensive, and such terms\nAs ill become you. Ye would feel, yourselves,\nResentment, should another act as ye.\nSurvey the course, peaceable, from your seats;\nThe charioteers, by competition wing\u2019d,620\nWill soon themselves arrive, then shall ye know\nDistinctly, both who follows and who leads.\n  He scarce had said, when nigh at hand appear\u2019d\nTydides, lashing, as he came, his steeds\nContinual; they with hoofs uplifted high625\nTheir yet remaining ground shorten\u2019d apace,\nSprinkling with dusty drops at every stroke\nTheir charioteer, while close upon their heels\nRadiant with tin and gold the chariot ran,\nScarce tracking light the dust, so swift they flew.630\nHe stood in the mid-circus; there the sweat\nRain\u2019d under them from neck and chest profuse,\nAnd Diomede from his resplendent seat\nLeaping, reclined his scourge against the yoke.\nNor was his friend brave Sthenelus remiss,635\nBut, seizing with alacrity the prize,\nConsign\u2019d the tripod and the virgin, first,\nTo his own band in charge; then, loosed the steeds.\nNext came, by stratagem, not speed advanced\nTo that distinction, Nestor\u2019s son, whom yet640\nThe hero Menelaus close pursued\nNear as the wheel runs to a courser\u2019s heels,\nDrawing his master at full speed; his tail\nWith its extremest hairs the felly sweeps\nThat close attends him o\u2019er the spacious plain,645\nSo near had Menelaus now approach\u2019d\nAntilochus; for though at first he fell\nA full quoit\u2019s cast behind, he soon retrieved\nThat loss, with such increasing speed the mare\nBright-maned of Agamemnon, \u00c6the, ran;650\nShe, had the course few paces more to both\nAfforded, should have clearly shot beyond\nAntilochus, nor dubious left the prize.\nBut noble Menelaus threw behind\nMeriones, companion in the field,655\nOf King Idomeneus, a lance\u2019s flight,\nFor slowest were his steeds, and he, to rule\nThe chariot in the race, least skill\u2019d of all.\nLast came Eumelus drawing to the goal,\nHimself, his splendid chariot, and his mares660\nDriving before him. Peleus\u2019 rapid son\nBeheld him with compassion, and, amid\nThe Argives, in wing\u2019d accents thus he spake.\n  Here comes the most expert, driving his steeds\nBefore him. Just it were that he received665\nThe second prize; Tydides claims the first.\n  He said, and all applauded the award.\nThen had Achilles to Eumelus given\nThe mare (for such the pleasure seem\u2019d of all)\nHad not the son of mighty Nestor risen,670\nAntilochus, who pleaded thus his right.\n  Achilles! acting as thou hast proposed,\nThou shalt offend me much, for thou shalt take\nThe prize from me, because the Gods, his steeds\nAnd chariot-yoke disabling, render\u2019d vain675\nHis efforts, and no failure of his own.\nIt was his duty to have sought the Gods\nIn prayer, then had he not, following on foot\nHis coursers, hindmost of us all arrived.\nBut if thou pity him, and deem it good,680\nThou hast much gold, much brass, and many sheep\nIn thy pavilion; thou hast maidens fair,\nAnd coursers also. Of thy proper stores\nHereafter give to him a richer prize\nThan this, or give it now, so shall the Greeks685\nApplaud thee; but this mare yield I to none;\nStand forth the Grecian who desires to win\nThat recompense, and let him fight with me.\n  He ended, and Achilles, godlike Chief,\nSmiled on him, gratulating his success,690\nWhom much he loved; then, ardent, thus replied.\n  Antilochus! if thou wouldst wish me give\nEumelus of my own, even so I will.\nI will present to him my corslet bright\nWon from Asterop\u00e6us, edged around695\nWith glittering tin; a precious gift, and rare.\n  So saying, he bade Automedon his friend\nProduce it from the tent; he at his word\nDeparting, to Achilles brought the spoil,\nWhich at his hands Eumelus glad received.700\nThen, stung with grief, and with resentment fired\nImmeasurable, Menelaus rose\nTo charge Antilochus. His herald gave\nThe sceptre to his hand, and (silence bidden\nTo all) the godlike hero thus began.705\n  Antilochus! oh heretofore discreet!\nWhat hast thou done? Thou hast dishonor\u2019d foul\nMy skill, and wrong\u2019d my coursers, throwing thine,\nAlthough inferior far, by fraud before them.\nYe Chiefs and Senators of Argos\u2019 host!710\nImpartial judge between us, lest, of these,\nSome say hereafter, Menelaus bore\nAntilochus by falsehood down, and led\nThe mare away, because, although his steeds\nWere worse, his arm was mightier, and prevail\u2019d.715\nYet hold\u2014myself will judge, and will to all\nContentment give, for I will judge aright.\nHither, Antilochus, illustrious youth!\nAnd, as the law prescribes, standing before\nThy steeds and chariot, holding too the scourge720\nWith which thou drovest, lay hand on both thy steeds,\nAnd swear by Neptune, circler of the earth,\nThat neither wilfully, nor yet by fraud\nThou didst impede my chariot in its course.\n  Then prudent, thus Antilochus replied.725\nOh royal Menelaus! patient bear\nThe fault of one thy junior far, in years\nAlike unequal and in worth to thee.\nThou know\u2019st how rash is youth, and how propense\nTo pass the bounds by decency prescribed,730\nQuick, but not wise. Lay, then, thy wrath aside;\nThe mare now given me I will myself\nDeliver to thee, and if thou require\nA larger recompense, will rather yield\nA larger much than from thy favor fall735\nDeservedly for ever, mighty Prince!\nAnd sin so heinously against the Gods.\n  So saying, the son of valiant Nestor led\nThe mare, himself, to Menelaus\u2019 hand,\nWho with heart-freshening joy the prize received.740\nAs on the ears of growing corn the dews\nFall grateful, while the spiry grain erect\nBristles the fields, so, Menelaus, felt\nThy inmost soul a soothing pleasure sweet!\nThen answer thus the hero quick return\u2019d.745\n  Antilochus! exasperate though I were,\nNow, such no longer, I relinquish glad\nAll strife with thee, for that at other times\nThou never inconsiderate wast or light,\nAlthough by youthful heat misled to-day.750\nYet safer is it not to over-reach\nSuperiors, for no other Grecian here\nHad my extreme displeasure calm\u2019d so soon;\nBut thou hast suffer\u2019d much, and much hast toil\u2019d,\nAs thy good father and thy brother have,755\nOn my behalf; I, therefore, yield, subdued\nBy thy entreaties, and the mare, though mine,\nWill also give thee, that these Grecians all\nMay know me neither proud nor hard to appease.\n  So saying, the mare he to No\u00ebmon gave,760\nFriend of Antilochus, and, well-content,\nThe polish\u2019d caldron for _his_ prize received.\nThe fourth awarded lot (for he had fourth\nArrived) Meriones asserted next,\nThe golden talents; but the phial still765\nLeft unappropriated Achilles bore\nAcross the circus in his hand, a gift\nTo ancient Nestor, whom he thus bespake.\n  Thou also, oh my father! this accept,\nWhich in remembrance of the funeral rites770\nOf my Patroclus, keep, for him thou seest\nAmong the Greeks no more. Receive a prize,\nThine by gratuity; for thou shalt wield\nThe cestus, wrestle, at the spear contend,\nOr in the foot-race (fallen as thou art775\nInto the wane of life) never again.\n  He said, and placed it in his hands. He, glad,\nReceiving it, in accents wing\u2019d replied.\n  True, oh my son! is all which thou hast spoken.\nThese limbs, these hands, young friend! (their vigor lost)780\nNo longer, darted from the shoulder, spring\nAt once to battle. Ah that I could grow\nYoung yet again, could feel again such force\nAthletic, as when in Buprasium erst\nThe Epeans with sepulchral pomp entomb\u2019d785\nKing Amarynceus, where his sons ordain\u2019d\nFunereal games in honor of their sire!\nEpean none or even Pylian there\nCould cope with me, or yet \u00c6tolian bold.\nBoxing, I vanquish\u2019d Clytomedes, son790\nOf Enops; wrestling, the Pleuronian Chief\nAnc\u00e6us; in the foot-race Iphiclus,\nThough a fleet runner; and I over-pitch\u2019d\nPhyleus and Polydorus at the spear.\nThe sons of Actor[16] in the chariot-race795\nAlone surpass\u2019d me, being two for one,\nAnd jealous both lest I should also win\nThat prize, for to the victor charioteer\nThey had assign\u2019d the noblest prize of all.\nThey were twin-brothers, and one ruled the steeds,800\nThe steeds one ruled,[17] the other lash\u2019d them on.\nSuch once was I; but now, these sports I leave\nTo younger; me submission most befits\nTo withering age, who then outshone the best.\nBut go. The funeral of thy friend with games805\nProceed to celebrate; I accept thy gift\nWith pleasure; and my heart is also glad\nThat thou art mindful evermore of one\nWho loves thee, and such honor in the sight\nYield\u2019st me of all the Greeks, as is my due.810\nMay the Gods bless thee for it more and more!\n  He spake, and Peleus\u2019 son, when he had heard\nAt large his commendation from the lips\nOf Nestor, through the assembled Greeks return\u2019d.\nHe next proposed, not lightly to be won,815\nThe boxer\u2019s prize. He tether\u2019d down a mule,\nUntamed and hard to tame, but strong to toil,\nAnd in her prime of vigor, in the midst;\nA goblet to the vanquish\u2019d he assign\u2019d,\nThen stood erect and to the Greeks exclaim\u2019d.820\n  Atrid\u00e6! and ye Argives brazen-greaved!\nI call for two bold combatants expert\nTo wage fierce strife for these, with lifted fists\nSmiting each other. He, who by the aid\nOf Ph\u0153bus shall o\u2019ertome, and whom the Greeks825\nShall all pronounce victorious, leads the mule\nHence to his tent; the vanquish\u2019d takes the cup.\n  He spake, and at his word a Greek arose\nBig, bold, and skillful in the boxer\u2019s art,\nEpe\u00fcs, son of Panopeus; his hand830\nHe on the mule imposed, and thus he said.\n  Approach the man ambitious of the cup!\nFor no Achaian here shall with his fist\nMe foiling, win the mule. I boast myself\nTo all superior. May it not suffice835\nThat I to no pre-eminence pretend\nIn battle? To attain to foremost praise\nAlike in every art is not for one.\nBut this I promise, and will well perform\u2014\nMy blows shall lay him open, split him, crush840\nHis bones to splinters, and let all his friends,\nAttendant on him, wait to bear him hence,\nVanquish\u2019d by my superior force in fight.\n  He ended, and his speech found no reply.\nOne godlike Chief alone, Euryalus,845\nSon of the King Mecisteus, who, himself,\nSprang from Talaion, opposite arose.\nHe, on the death of Oedipus, at Thebes\nContending in the games held at his tomb,\nHad overcome the whole Cadmean race.850\nHim Diomede spear-famed for fight prepared,\nGiving him all encouragement, for much\nHe wish\u2019d him victory. First then he threw[18]\nHis cincture to him; next, he gave him thongs[19]\nCut from the hide of a wild buffalo.855\nBoth girt around, into the midst they moved.\nThen, lifting high their brawny arms, and fists\nMingling with fists, to furious fight they fell;\nDire was the crash of jaws, and the sweat stream\u2019d\nFrom every limb. Epe\u00fcs fierce advanced,860\nAnd while Euryalus with cautious eye\nWatch\u2019d his advantage, pash\u2019d him on the cheek\nHe stood no longer, but, his shapely limbs,\nUnequal to his weight, sinking, he fell.\nAs by the rising north-wind driven ashore865\nA huge fish flounces on the weedy beach,\nWhich soon the sable flood covers again,\nSo, beaten down, he bounded. But Epe\u00fcs,\nHeroic chief, upraised him by his hand,\nAnd his own comrades from the circus forth870\nLed him, step dragging after step, the blood\nEjecting grumous, and at every pace\nRolling his head languid from side to side.\nThey placed him all unconscious on his seat\nIn his own band, then fetch\u2019d his prize, the cup.875\n  Still other prizes, then, Achilles placed\nIn view of all, the sturdy wrestler\u2019s meed.\nA large hearth-tripod, valued by the Greeks\nAt twice six beeves, should pay the victor\u2019s toil;\nBut for the vanquish\u2019d, in the midst he set880\nA damsel in variety expert\nOf arts domestic, valued at four beeves.\nHe rose erect, and to the Greeks he cried.\n  Arise ye, now, who shall this prize dispute.\nSo spake the son of Peleus; then arose885\nHuge Telamonian Ajax, and upstood\nUlysses also, in all wiles adept.\nBoth girt around, into the midst they moved.\nWith vigorous gripe each lock\u2019d the other fast,\nLike rafters, standing, of some mansion built890\nBy a prime artist proof against all winds.\nTheir backs, tugg\u2019d vehemently, creak\u2019d,[20] the sweat\nTrickled, and on their flanks and shoulders, red\nThe whelks arose; they bearing still in mind\nThe tripod, ceased not struggling for the prize.895\nNor could Ulysses from his station move\nAnd cast down Ajax, nor could Ajax him\nUnsettle, fixt so firm Ulysses stood.\nBut when, long time expectant, all the Greeks\nGrew weary, then, huge Ajax him bespake.900\n  Laertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\nLift, or be lifted, and let Jove decide.\n  He said, and heaved Ulysses. Then, his wiles\nForgat not he, but on the ham behind\nChopp\u2019d him; the limbs of Ajax at the stroke905\nDisabled sank; he fell supine, and bore\nUlysses close adhering to his chest\nDown with him. Wonder riveted all eyes.\nThen brave Ulysses from the ground awhile\nHim lifted in his turn, but ere he stood,910\nInserting his own knee the knees between[21]\nOf Ajax, threw him. To the earth they fell\nBoth, and with dust defiled lay side by side.\nAnd now, arising to a third essay,\nThey should have wrestled yet again, had not915\nAchilles, interfering, them restrain\u2019d.\n  Strive not together more; cease to exhaust\nEach other\u2019s force; ye both have earn\u2019d the prize\nDepart alike requited, and give place\nTo other Grecians who shall next contend.920\n  He spake; they glad complied, and wiping off\nThe dust, put on their tunics. Then again\nAchilles other prizes yet proposed,\nThe rapid runner\u2019s meed. First, he produced\nA silver goblet of six measures; earth925\nOwn\u2019d not its like for elegance of form.\nSkilful Sidonian artists had around\nEmbellish\u2019d it,[22] and o\u2019er the sable deep\nPh\u0153nician merchants into Lemnos\u2019 port\nHad borne it, and the boon to Thoas[23] given;930\nBut Jason\u2019s son, Eune\u00fcs, in exchange\nFor Priam\u2019s son Lycaon, to the hand\nHad pass\u2019d it of Patroclus famed in arms.\nAchilles this, in honor of his friend,\nSet forth, the swiftest runner\u2019s recompense.935\nThe second should a fatted ox receive\nOf largest size, and he assign\u2019d of gold\nA just half-talent to the worst and last.\nHe stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.\n  Now stand ye forth who shall this prize dispute.940\nHe said, and at his word instant arose\nSwift Ajax O\u00efliades; upsprang\nThe shrewd Ulysses next, and after him\nBrave Nestor\u2019s son Antilochus, with whom\nNone vied in speed of all the youths of Greece.945\nThey stood prepared. Achilles show\u2019d the goal.\nAt once all started. O\u00efliades\nLed swift the course, and closely at his heels\nUlysses ran. Near as some cinctured maid\nIndustrious holds the distaff to her breast,950\nWhile to and fro with practised finger neat\nShe tends the flax drawing it to a thread,\nSo near Ulysses follow\u2019d him, and press\u2019d\nHis footsteps, ere the dust fill\u2019d them again,\nPouring his breath into his neck behind,955\nAnd never slackening pace. His ardent thirst\nOf victory with universal shouts\nAll seconded, and, eager, bade him on.\nAnd now the contest shortening to a close,\nUlysses his request silent and brief960\nTo azure-eyed Minerva thus preferr\u2019d.\n  Oh Goddess hear, prosper me in the race!\nSuch was his prayer, with which Minerva pleased,\nFreshen\u2019d his limbs, and made him light to run.\nAnd now, when in one moment they should both965\nHave darted on the prize, then Ajax\u2019 foot\nSliding, he fell; for where the dung of beeves\nSlain by Achilles for his friend, had spread\nThe soil, there[24] Pallas tripp\u2019d him. Ordure foul\nHis mouth, and ordure foul his nostrils fill\u2019d.970\nThen brave Ulysses, first arriving, seized\nThe cup, and Ajax took his prize, the ox.\nHe grasp\u2019d his horn, and sputtering as he stood\nThe ordure forth, the Argives thus bespake.\n  Ah\u2014Pallas tripp\u2019d my footsteps; she attends975\nUlysses ever with a mother\u2019s care.\n  Loud laugh\u2019d the Grecians. Then, the remnant prize\nAntilochus receiving, smiled and said.\n  Ye need not, fellow-warriors, to be taught\nThat now, as ever, the immortal Gods980\nHonor on seniority bestow.\nAjax is elder, yet not much, than I.\nBut Laertiades was born in times\nLong past, a chief co\u00ebval with our sires,\nNot young, but vigorous; and of the Greeks,985\nAchilles may alone with him contend.\n  So saying, the merit of superior speed\nTo Peleus\u2019 son he gave, who thus replied.\n  Antilochus! thy praise of me shall prove\nNor vain nor unproductive to thyself,990\nFor the half-talent doubled shall be thine.\n  He spake, and, doubling it, the talent placed\nWhole in his hand. He glad the gift received.\nAchilles, then Sarpedon\u2019s arms produced,\nStripp\u2019d from him by Patroclus, his long spear,995\nHelmet and shield, which in the midst he placed.\nHe stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.\n  I call for two brave warriors arm\u2019d to prove\nEach other\u2019s skill with weapons keen, this prize\nDisputing, next, in presence of us all.1000\nWho first shall through his armor reach the skin\nOf his antagonist, and shall draw his blood,\nTo him this silver-studded falchion bright\nI give; the blade is Thracian, and of late\nAsterop\u00e6us wore it, whom I slew.1005\nThese other arms shall be their common meed,\nAnd I will banquet both within my tent.\n  He said, then Telamonian Ajax huge\nArose, and opposite the son arose\nOf warlike Tydeus, Diomede the brave.1010\nApart from all the people each put on\nHis arms, then moved into the middle space,\nLowering terrific, and on fire to fight.\nThe host look\u2019d on amazed. Approaching each\nThe other, thrice they sprang to the assault,1015\nAnd thrice struck hand to hand. Ajax the shield\nPierced of his adversary, but the flesh\nAttain\u2019d not, baffled by his mail within.\nThen Tydeus\u2019 son, sheer o\u2019er the ample disk\nOf Ajax, thrust a lance home to his neck,1020\nAnd the Achaians for the life appall\u2019d\nOf Ajax, bade them, ceasing, share the prize.\nBut the huge falchion with its sheath and belt\u2014\nAchilles them on Diomede bestow\u2019d.\n  The hero, next, an iron clod produced1025\nRough from the forge, and wont to task the might\nOf King E\u00ebtion; but, when him he slew,\nPelides, glorious chief, with other spoils\nFrom Thebes convey\u2019d it in his fleet to Troy.\nHe stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.1030\n  Come forth who also shall this prize dispute!\nHow far soe\u2019er remote the winner\u2019s fields,\nThis lump shall serve his wants five circling years;\nHis shepherd shall not, or his plower, need\nIn quest of iron seek the distant town,1035\nBut hence he shall himself their wants supply.[25]\nThen Polyp\u0153tes brave in fight arose,\nArose Leonteus also, godlike chief,\nWith Ajax son of Telamon. Each took\nHis station, and Epe\u00fcs seized the clod.1040\nHe swung, he cast it, and the Grecians laugh\u2019d.\nLeonteus, branch of Mars, quoited it next.\nHuge Telamonian Ajax with strong arm\nDismiss\u2019d it third, and overpitch\u2019d them both.\nBut when brave Polyp\u0153tes seized the mass1045\nFar as the vigorous herdsman flings his staff\nThat twirling flies his numerous beeves between,[26]\nSo far his cast outmeasured all beside,\nAnd the host shouted. Then the friends arose\nOf Polyp\u0153tes valiant chief, and bore1050\nHis ponderous acquisition to the ships.\n  The archers\u2019 prize Achilles next proposed,\nTen double and ten single axes, form\u2019d\nOf steel convertible to arrow-points.\nHe fix\u2019d, far distant on the sands, the mast1055\nOf a brave bark cerulean-prow\u2019d, to which\nWith small cord fasten\u2019d by the foot he tied\nA timorous dove, their mark at which to aim.\n[27]Who strikes the dove, he conquers, and shall bear\nThese double axes all into his tent.1060\nBut who the cord alone, missing the bird,\nSuccessful less, he wins the single blades.\n  The might of royal Teucer then arose,\nAnd, fellow-warrior of the King of Crete,\nValiant Meriones. A brazen casque1065\nReceived the lots; they shook them, and the lot\nFell first to Teucer. He, at once, a shaft\nSent smartly forth, but vow\u2019d not to the King[28]\nA hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock.\nHe therefore (for Apollo greater praise1070\nDenied him) miss\u2019d the dove, but struck the cord\nThat tied her, at small distance from the knot,\nAnd with his arrow sever\u2019d it. Upsprang\nThe bird into the air, and to the ground\nDepending fell the cord. Shouts rent the skies.1075\nThen, all in haste, Meriones the bow\nCaught from his hand holding a shaft the while\nAlready aim\u2019d, and to Apollo vow\u2019d\nA hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock.\nHe eyed the dove aloft, under a cloud,1080\nAnd, while she wheel\u2019d around, struck her beneath\nThe pinion; through her and beyond her pass\u2019d\nThe arrow, and, returning, pierced the soil\nFast by the foot of brave Meriones.\nShe, perching on the mast again, her head1085\nReclined, and hung her wide-unfolded wing,\nBut, soon expiring, dropp\u2019d and fell remote.\nAmazement seized the people. To his tent\nMeriones the ten best axes bore,\nAnd Teucer the inferior ten to his.[29]1090\n  Then, last, Achilles in the circus placed\nA ponderous spear and caldron yet unfired,\nEmboss\u2019d with flowers around, its worth an ox.\nUpstood the spear-expert; Atrides first,\nWide-ruling Agamemnon, King of men,1095\nAnd next, brave fellow-warrior of the King\nOf Crete, Meriones; when thus his speech\nAchilles to the royal chief address\u2019d.\n  Atrides! (for we know thy skill and force\nMatchless! that none can hurl the spear as thou)1100\nThis prize is thine, order it to thy ship;\nAnd if it please thee, as I would it might,\nLet brave Meriones the spear receive.\n  He said; nor Agamemnon not complied,\nBut to Meriones the brazen spear\nPresenting, to Talthybius gave in charge\nThe caldron, next, his own illustrious prize.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XXIV.\n\n\nARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-FOURTH BOOK.\n\nPriam, by command of Jupiter, and under conduct of Mercury, seeks\nAchilles in his tent, who admonished previously by Thetis, consents to\naccept ransom for the body of Hector. Hector is mourned, and the manner\nof his funeral, circumstantially described, concludes the poem.\n\n\nBOOK XXIV.\n\n\nThe games all closed, the people went dispersed\nEach to his ship; they, mindful of repast,\nAnd to enjoy repose; but other thoughts\nAchilles\u2019 mind employ\u2019d: he still deplored\nWith tears his loved Patroclus, nor the force5\nFelt of all-conquering sleep, but turn\u2019d and turn\u2019d\nRestless from side to side, mourning the loss\nOf such a friend, so manly, and so brave.\nTheir fellowship in toil; their hardships oft\nSustain\u2019d in fight laborious, or o\u2019ercome10\nWith difficulty on the perilous deep\u2014\nRemembrance busily retracing themes\nLike these, drew down his cheeks continual tears.\nNow on his side he lay, now lay supine,\nNow prone, then starting from his couch he roam\u2019d15\nForlorn the beach, nor did the rising morn\nOn seas and shores escape his watchful eye,\nBut joining to his chariot his swift steeds,\nHe fasten\u2019d Hector to be dragg\u2019d behind.\nAround the tomb of Men\u0153tiades20\nHim thrice he dragg\u2019d; then rested in his tent,\nLeaving him at his length stretch\u2019d in the dust.\nMeantime Apollo with compassion touch\u2019d\nEven of the lifeless Hector, from all taint\nSaved him, and with the golden \u00e6gis broad25\nCovering, preserved him, although dragg\u2019d, untorn.\n\n  While he, indulging thus his wrath, disgraced\nBrave Hector, the immortals at that sight\nWith pity moved, exhorted Mercury\nThe watchful Argicide, to steal him thence.30\nThat counsel pleased the rest, but neither pleased\nJuno, nor Neptune, nor the blue-eyed maid.\nThey still, as at the first, held fast their hate\nOf sacred Troy, detested Priam still,\nAnd still his people, mindful of the crime35\nOf Paris, who when to his rural hut\nThey came, those Goddesses affronting,[1] praise\nAnd admiration gave to her alone\nWho with vile lusts his preference repaid.\nBut when the twelfth ensuing morn arose,40\nApollo, then, the immortals thus address\u2019d.\n  Ye Gods, your dealings now injurious seem\nAnd cruel. Was not Hector wont to burn\nThighs of fat goats and bullocks at your shrines?\nWhom now, though dead, ye cannot yet endure45\nTo rescue, that Andromache once more\nMight view him, his own mother, his own son,\nHis father and the people, who would soon\nYield him his just demand, a funeral fire.\nBut, oh ye Gods! your pleasure is alone50\nTo please Achilles, that pernicious chief,\nWho neither right regards, nor owns a mind\nThat can relent, but as the lion, urged\nBy his own dauntless heart and savage force,\nInvades without remorse the rights of man,55\nThat he may banquet on his herds and flocks,\nSo Peleus\u2019 son all pity from his breast\nHath driven, and shame, man\u2019s blessing or his curse.[2]\nFor whosoever hath a loss sustain\u2019d\nStill dearer, whether of his brother born60\nFrom the same womb, or even of his son,\nWhen he hath once bewail\u2019d him, weeps no more,\nFor fate itself gives man a patient mind.\nYet Peleus\u2019 son, not so contented, slays\nIllustrious Hector first, then drags his corse65\nIn cruel triumph at his chariot-wheels\nAround Patroclus\u2019 tomb; but neither well\nHe acts, nor honorably to himself,\nWho may, perchance, brave though he be, incur\nOur anger, while to gratify revenge70\nHe pours dishonor thus on senseless clay.\n  To whom, incensed, Juno white-arm\u2019d replied.\nAnd be it so; stand fast this word of thine,\nGod of the silver bow! if ye account\nOnly such honor to Achilles due75\nAs Hector claims; but Hector was by birth\nMere man, and suckled at a woman\u2019s breast.\nNot such Achilles; him a Goddess bore,\nWhom I myself nourish\u2019d, and on my lap\nFondled, and in due time to Peleus gave80\nIn marriage, to a chief beloved in heaven\nPeculiarly; ye were yourselves, ye Gods!\nPartakers of the nuptial feast, and thou\nWast present also with thine harp in hand,\nThou comrade of the vile! thou faithless ever!85\n  Then answer thus cloud-gatherer Jove return\u2019d.\nJuno, forbear. Indulge not always wrath\nAgainst the Gods. They shall not share alike,\nAnd in the same proportion our regards.\nYet even Hector was the man in Troy90\nMost favor\u2019d by the Gods, and him no less\nI also loved, for punctual were his gifts\nTo us; mine altar never miss\u2019d from him\nLibation, or the steam of sacrifice,\nThe meed allotted to us from of old.95\nBut steal him not, since by Achilles\u2019 eye\nUnseen ye cannot, who both day and night\nWatches[3] him, as a mother tends her son.\nBut call ye Thetis hither, I would give\nThe Goddess counsel, that, at Priam\u2019s hands100\nAccepting gifts, Achilles loose the dead.\n  He ceased. Then Iris tempest-wing\u2019d arose.\nSamos between, and Imbrus rock-begirt,\nShe plunged into the gloomy flood; loud groan\u2019d\nThe briny pool, while sudden down she rush\u2019d,105\nAs sinks the bull\u2019s[4] horn with its leaden weight,\nDeath bearing to the raveners of the deep.\nWithin her vaulted cave Thetis she found\nBy every nymph of Ocean round about\nEncompass\u2019d; she, amid them all, the fate110\nWept of her noble son ordain\u2019d to death\nAt fertile Troy, from Phthia far remote.\nThen, Iris, drawing near, her thus address\u2019d.\n  Arise, O Thetis! Jove, the author dread\nOf everlasting counsels, calls for thee.115\n  To whom the Goddess of the silver feet.\nWhy calls the mighty Thunderer me? I fear,\nOppress\u2019d with countless sorrows as I am,\nTo mingle with the Gods. Yet I obey\u2014\nNo word of his can prove an empty sound.120\n  So saying, the Goddess took her sable veil\n(Eye ne\u2019er beheld a darker) and began\nHer progress, by the storm-wing\u2019d Iris led.\nOn either hand the billows open\u2019d wide\nA pass before them; they, ascending soon125\nThe shore, updarted swift into the skies.\nThey found loud-voiced Saturnian Jove around\nEnviron\u2019d by the ever-blessed Gods\nConvened in full assembly; she beside\nHer Father Jove (Pallas retiring) sat.130\nThen, Juno, with consolatory speech,\nPresented to her hand a golden cup,\nOf which she drank, then gave it back again,\nAnd thus the sire of Gods and men began.\n  Goddess of ocean, Thetis! thou hast sought135\nOlympus, bearing in thy bosom grief\nNever to be assuaged, as well I know.\nYet shalt thou learn, afflicted as thou art,\nWhy I have summon\u2019d thee. Nine days the Gods,\nConcerning Hector\u2019s body and thy own140\nBrave city-spoiler son, have held dispute,\nAnd some have urged ofttimes the Argicide\nKeen-sighted Mercury, to steal the dead.\nBut I forbade it for Achilles\u2019 sake,\nWhom I exalt, the better to insure145\nThy reverence and thy friendship evermore.\nHaste, therefore, seek thy son, and tell him thus,\nThe Gods resent it, say (but most of all\nMyself am angry) that he still detains\nAmid his fleet, through fury of revenge,150\nUnransom\u2019d Hector; so shall he, at length,\nThrough fear of me, perchance, release the slain.\nMyself to generous Priam will, the while,\nSend Iris, who shall bid him to the fleet\nOf Greece, such ransom bearing as may soothe155\nAchilles, for redemption of his son.\n  So spake the God, nor Thetis not complied.\nDescending swift from the Olympian heights\nShe reach\u2019d Achilles\u2019 tent. Him there she found\nGroaning disconsolate, while others ran160\nTo and fro, occupied around a sheep\nNew-slaughter\u2019d, large, and of exuberant fleece.\nShe, sitting close beside him, softly strok\u2019d\nHis cheek, and thus, affectionate, began.\n  How long, my son! sorrowing and mourning here,165\nWilt thou consume thy soul, nor give one thought\nEither to food or love? Yet love is good,\nAnd woman grief\u2019s best cure; for length of days\nIs not thy doom, but, even now, thy death\nAnd ruthless destiny are on the wing.170\nMark me,\u2014I come a lieger sent from Jove.\nThe Gods, he saith, resent it, but himself\nMore deeply than the rest, that thou detain\u2019st\nAmid thy fleet, through fury of revenge,\nUnransom\u2019d Hector. Be advised, accept175\nRansom, and to his friends resign the dead.\n  To whom Achilles, swiftest of the swift.\nCome then the ransomer, and take him hence;\nIf Jove himself command it,\u2014be it so.\n  So they, among the ships, conferring sat180\nOn various themes, the Goddess and her son;\nMeantime Saturnian Jove commanded down\nHis swift ambassadress to sacred Troy.\n  Hence, rapid Iris! leave the Olympian heights.\nAnd, finding noble Priam, bid him haste185\nInto Achaia\u2019s fleet, bearing such gifts\nAs may assuage Achilles, and prevail\nTo liberate the body of his son.\nAlone, he must; no Trojan of them all\nMay company the senior thither, save190\nAn ancient herald to direct his mules\nAnd his wheel\u2019d litter, and to bring the dead\nBack into Ilium, whom Achilles slew.\nLet neither fear of death nor other fear\nTrouble him aught, so safe a guard and sure195\nWe give him; Mercury shall be his guide\nInto Achilles\u2019 presence in his tent.\nNor will himself Achilles slay him there,\nOr even permit his death, but will forbid\nAll violence; for he is not unwise200\nNor heedless, no\u2014nor wilful to offend,\nBut will his suppliant with much grace receive.[5]\n\n  He ceased; then Iris tempest-wing\u2019d arose,\nJove\u2019s messenger, and, at the gates arrived\nOf Priam, wo and wailing found within.205\nAround their father, in the hall, his sons\nTheir robes with tears water\u2019d, while them amidst\nThe hoary King sat mantled, muffled close,\nAnd on his venerable head and neck\nMuch dust was spread, which, rolling on the earth,210\nHe had shower\u2019d on them with unsparing hands.\nThe palace echoed to his daughters\u2019 cries,\nAnd to the cries of matrons calling fresh\nInto remembrance many a valiant chief\nNow stretch\u2019d in dust, by Argive hands destroy\u2019d.215\nThe messenger of Jove at Priam\u2019s side\nStanding, with whisper\u2019d accents low his ear\nSaluted, but he trembled at the sound.\n  Courage, Dardanian Priam! fear thou nought;\nTo thee no prophetess of ill, I come;220\nBut with kind purpose: Jove\u2019s ambassadress\nAm I, who though remote, yet entertains\nMuch pity, and much tender care for thee.\nOlympian Jove commands thee to redeem\nThe noble Hector, with an offering large225\nOf gifts that may Achilles\u2019 wrath appease.\nAlone, thou must; no Trojan of them all\nHath leave to attend thy journey thither, save\nAn ancient herald to direct thy mules\nAnd thy wheel\u2019d litter, and to bring the dead230\nBack into Ilium, whom Achilles slew.\nLet neither fear of death nor other fear\nTrouble thee aught, so safe a guard and sure\nHe gives thee; Mercury shall be thy guide\nEven to Achilles\u2019 presence in his tent.235\nNor will himself Achilles slay thee there,\nOr even permit thy death, but will forbid\nAll violence; for he is not unwise\nNor heedless, no\u2014nor wilful to offend,\nBut will his suppliant with much grace receive.240\n\n  So spake the swift ambassadress, and went.\nThen, calling to his sons, he bade them bring\nHis litter forth, and bind the coffer on,\nWhile to his fragrant chamber he repair\u2019d\nHimself, with cedar lined and lofty-roof\u2019d,245\nA treasury of wonders into which\nThe Queen he summon\u2019d, whom he thus bespake.\n  Hecuba! the ambassadress of Jove\nHath come, who bids me to the Grecian fleet,\nBearing such presents thither as may soothe250\nAchilles, for redemption of my son.\nBut say, what seems this enterprise to thee?\nMyself am much inclined to it, I feel\nMy courage prompting me amain toward\nThe fleet, and into the Achaian camp.255\n  Then wept the Queen aloud, and thus replied.\nAh! whither is thy wisdom fled, for which\nBoth strangers once, and Trojans honor\u2019d _thee_?\nHow canst thou wish to penetrate alone\nThe Grecian fleet, and to appear before260\nHis face, by whom so many valiant sons\nOf thine have fallen? Thou hast an iron heart!\nFor should that savage man and faithless once\nSeize and discover thee, no pity expect\nOr reverence at his hands. Come\u2014let us weep265\nTogether, here sequester\u2019d; for the thread\nSpun for him by his destiny severe\nWhen he was born, ordain\u2019d our son remote\nFrom us his parents to be food for hounds\nIn that chief\u2019s tent. Oh! clinging to his side,270\nHow I could tear him with my teeth! His deeds,\nDisgraceful to my son, then should not want\nRetaliation; for he slew not him\nSkulking, but standing boldly for the wives,\nThe daughters fair, and citizens of Troy,275\nGuiltless of flight,[6] and of the wish to fly.\n\n  Whom godlike Priam answer\u2019d, ancient King.\nImpede me not who willing am to go,\nNor be, thyself, a bird of ominous note\nTo terrify me under my own roof,280\nFor thou shalt not prevail. Had mortal man\nEnjoin\u2019d me this attempt, prophet, or priest,\nOr soothsayer, I had pronounced him false\nAnd fear\u2019d it but the more. But, since I saw\nThe Goddess with these eyes, and heard, myself,285\nThe voice divine, I go; that word shall stand;\nAnd, if my doom be in the fleet of Greece\nTo perish, be it so; Achilles\u2019 arm\nShall give me speedy death, and I shall die\nFolding my son, and satisfied with tears.290\n  So saying, he open\u2019d wide the elegant lids\nOf numerous chests, whence mantles twelve he took\nOf texture beautiful; twelve single cloaks;\nAs many carpets, with as many robes,\nTo which he added vests, an equal store.295\nHe also took ten talents forth of gold,\nAll weigh\u2019d, two splendid tripods, caldrons four,\nAnd after these a cup of matchless worth\nGiven to him when ambassador in Thrace;\nA noble gift, which yet the hoary King300\nSpared not, such fervor of desire he felt\nTo loose his son. Then from his portico,\nWith angry taunts he drove the gather\u2019d crowds.\n  Away! away! ye dregs of earth, away!\nYe shame of human kind! Have ye no griefs305\nAt home, that ye come hither troubling _me_?\nDeem ye it little that Saturnian Jove\nAfflicts me thus, and of my very best,\nBest boy deprives me? Ah! ye shall be taught\nYourselves that loss, far easier to be slain310\nBy the Achaians now, since he is dead.\nBut I, ere yet the city I behold\nTaken and pillaged, with these aged eyes,\nShall find safe hiding in the shades below.\n\n  He said, and chased them with his staff; they left315\nIn haste the doors, by the old King expell\u2019d.\nThen, chiding them aloud, his sons he call\u2019d,\nHelenus, Paris, noble Agathon,\nPammon, Antiphonus, and bold in fight\nPolites, Dios of illustrious fame,320\nHippotho\u00fcs and Deiphobus\u2014all nine\nHe call\u2019d, thus issuing, angry, his commands.\n  Quick! quick! ye slothful in your father\u2019s cause,\nYe worthless brood! would that in Hector\u2019s stead\nYe all had perish\u2019d in the fleet of Greece!325\nOh altogether wretched! in all Troy\nNo man had sons to boast valiant as mine,\nAnd I have lost them all. Mestor is gone\nThe godlike, Troilus the steed-renown\u2019d,\nAnd Hector, who with other men compared330\nSeem\u2019d a Divinity, whom none had deem\u2019d\nFrom mortal man derived, but from a God.\nThese Mars hath taken, and hath left me none\nBut scandals of my house, void of all truth,\nDancers, exact step-measurers,[7] a band335\nOf public robbers, thieves of kids and lambs.\nWill ye not bring my litter to the gate\nThis moment, and with all this package quick\nCharge it, that we may hence without delay?\n  He said, and by his chiding awed, his sons340\nDrew forth the royal litter, neat, new-built,\nAnd following swift the draught, on which they bound\nThe coffer; next, they lower\u2019d from the wall\nThe sculptured boxen yoke with its two rings;[8]\nAnd with the yoke its furniture, in length345\nNine cubits; this to the extremest end\nAdjusting of the pole, they cast the ring\nOver the ring-bolt; then, thrice through the yoke\nThey drew the brace on both sides, made it fast\nWith even knots, and tuck\u2019d[9] the dangling ends.350\nProducing, next, the glorious ransom-price\nOf Hector\u2019s body, on the litter\u2019s floor\nThey heap\u2019d it all, then yoked the sturdy mules,\nA gift illustrious by the Mysians erst\nConferr\u2019d on Priam; to the chariot, last,355\nThey led forth Priam\u2019s steeds, which the old King\n(In person serving them) with freshest corn\nConstant supplied; meantime, himself within\nThe palace, and his herald, were employ\u2019d\nGirding[10] themselves, to go; wise each and good.360\nAnd now came mournful Hecuba, with wine\nDelicious charged, which in a golden cup\nShe brought, that not without libation due\nFirst made, they might depart. Before the steeds\nHer steps she stay\u2019d, and Priam thus address\u2019d.365\n  Take this, and to the Sire of all perform\nLibation, praying him a safe return\nFrom hostile hands, since thou art urged to seek\nThe Grecian camp, though not by my desire.\nPray also to Id\u00e6an Jove cloud-girt,370\nWho oversees all Ilium, that he send\nHis messenger or ere thou go, the bird\nHis favorite most, surpassing all in strength,\nAt thy right hand; him seeing, thou shalt tend\nWith better hope toward the fleet of Greece.375\nBut should loud-thundering Jove his lieger swift\nWithhold, from me far be it to advise\nThis journey, howsoe\u2019er thou wish to go.\n  To whom the godlike Priam thus replied.\nThis exhortation will I not refuse,380\nO Queen! for, lifting to the Gods his hands\nIn prayer for their compassion, none can err.\n  So saying, he bade the maiden o\u2019er the rest,\nChief in authority, pour on his hands\nPure water, for the maiden at his side385\nWith ewer charged and laver, stood prepared.\nHe laved his hands; then, taking from the Queen\nThe goblet, in his middle area stood\nPouring libation with his eyes upturn\u2019d\nHeaven-ward devout, and thus his prayer preferr\u2019d.390\n  Jove, great and glorious above all, who rulest,\nOn Ida\u2019s summit seated, all below!\nGrant me arrived within Achilles\u2019 tent\nKindness to meet and pity, and oh send\nThy messenger or ere I go, the bird395\nThy favorite most, surpassing all in strength,\nAt my right hand, which seeing, I shall tend\nWith better hope toward the fleet of Greece.\n  He ended, at whose prayer, incontinent,\nJove sent his eagle, surest of all signs,400\nThe black-plumed bird voracious, Morphnos[11] named,\nAnd Percnos.[11] Wide as the well-guarded door\nOf some rich potentate his vans he spread\nOn either side; they saw him on the right,\nSkimming the towers of Troy; glad they beheld405\nThat omen, and all felt their hearts consoled.\n  Delay\u2019d not then the hoary King, but quick\nAscending to his seat, his coursers urged\nThrough vestibule and sounding porch abroad.\nThe four-wheel\u2019d litter led, drawn by the mules410\nWhich sage Id\u00e6us managed, behind whom\nWent Priam, plying with the scourge his steeds\nContinual through the town, while all his friends,\nFollowing their sovereign with dejected hearts,\nLamented him as going to his death.415\nBut when from Ilium\u2019s gate into the plain\nThey had descended, then the sons-in-law\nOf Priam, and his sons, to Troy return\u2019d.\nNor they, now traversing the plain, the note\nEscaped of Jove the Thunderer; he beheld420\nCompassionate the venerable King,\nAnd thus his own son Mercury bespake.\n  Mercury! (for above all others thou\nDelightest to associate with mankind\nFamiliar, whom thou wilt winning with ease425\nTo converse free) go thou, and so conduct\nPriam into the Grecian camp, that none\nOf all the numerous Dana\u00ef may see\nOr mark him, till he reach Achilles\u2019 tent.\n  He spake, nor the ambassador of heaven430\nThe Argicide delay\u2019d, but bound in haste\nHis undecaying sandals to his feet,\nGolden, divine, which waft him o\u2019er the floods\nSwift as the wind, and o\u2019er the boundless earth.\nHe took his rod with which he charms to sleep435\nAll eyes, and theirs who sleep opens again.\nArm\u2019d with that rod, forth flew the Argicide.\nAt Ilium and the Hellespontic shores\nArriving sudden, a king\u2019s son he seem\u2019d,\nNow clothing first his ruddy cheek with down,440\nWhich is youth\u2019s loveliest season; so disguised,\nHis progress he began. They now (the tomb\nMagnificent of Ilus past) beside\nThe river stay\u2019d the mules and steeds to drink,\nFor twilight dimm\u2019d the fields. Id\u00e6us first445\nPerceived him near, and Priam thus bespake.\n  Think, son of Dardanus! for we have need\nOf our best thought. I see a warrior. Now,\nNow we shall die; I know it. Turn we quick\nOur steeds to flight; or let us clasp his knees450\nAnd his compassion suppliant essay.\n  Terror and consternation at that sound\nThe mind of Priam felt; erect the hair\nBristled his limbs, and with amaze he stood\nMotionless. But the God, meantime, approach\u2019d,455\nAnd, seizing ancient Priam\u2019s hand, inquired.\n  Whither, my father! in the dewy night\nDrivest thou thy mules and steeds, while others sleep?\nAnd fear\u2019st thou not the fiery host of Greece,\nThy foes implacable, so nigh at hand?460\nOf whom should any, through the shadow dun\nOf flitting night, discern thee bearing forth\nSo rich a charge, then what wouldst thou expect?\nThou art not young thyself, nor with the aid\nOf this thine ancient servant, strong enough465\nForce to repulse, should any threaten force.\nBut injury fear none or harm from me;\nI rather much from harm by other hands\nWould save thee, thou resemblest so my sire.\n  Whom answer\u2019d godlike Priam, hoar with age.470\nMy son! well spoken. Thou hast judged aright.\nYet even me some Deity protects\nThus far; to whom I owe it that I meet\nSo seasonably one like thee, in form\nSo admirable, and in mind discreet475\nAs thou art beautiful. Blest parents, thine!\n  To whom the messenger of heaven again,\nThe Argicide. Oh ancient and revered!\nThou hast well spoken all. Yet this declare,\nAnd with sincerity; bear\u2019st thou away480\nInto some foreign country, for the sake\nOf safer custody, this precious charge?\nOr, urged by fear, forsake ye all alike\nTroy\u2019s sacred towers! since he whom thou hast lost,\nThy noble son, was of excelling worth485\nIn arms, and nought inferior to the Greeks.\n  Then thus the godlike Priam, hoary King.\nBut tell me first who _Thou_ art, and from whom\nDescended, loveliest youth! who hast the fate\nSo well of my unhappy son rehearsed?490\n  To whom the herald Mercury replied.\nThy questions, venerable sire! proposed\nConcerning noble Hector, are design\u2019d\nTo prove me. Him, not seldom, with these eyes\nIn man-ennobling fight I have beheld495\nMost active; saw him when he thinn\u2019d the Greeks\nWith his sharp spear, and drove them to the ships.\nAmazed we stood to notice him; for us,\nIncensed against the ruler of our host,\nAchilles suffer\u2019d not to share the fight.500\nI serve Achilles; the same gallant bark\nBrought us, and of the Myrmidons am I,\nSon of Polyctor; wealthy is my sire,\nAnd such in years as thou; six sons he hath,\nBeside myself the seventh, and (the lots cast505\nAmong us all) mine sent me to the wars.\nThat I have left the ships, seeking the plain,\nThe cause is this; the Greeks, at break of day,\nWill compass, arm\u2019d, the city, for they loathe\nTo sit inactive, neither can the chiefs510\nRestrain the hot impatience of the host.\n  Then godlike Priam answer thus return\u2019d.\nIf of the band thou be of Peleus\u2019 son,\nAchilles, tell me undisguised the truth.\nMy son, subsists he still, or hath thy chief515\nLimb after limb given him to his dogs?\n  Him answer\u2019d then the herald of the skies.\nOh venerable sir! him neither dogs\nHave eaten yet, nor fowls, but at the ships\nHis body, and within Achilles\u2019 tent520\nNeglected lies. Twelve days he so hath lain;\nYet neither worm which diets on the brave\nIn battle fallen, hath eaten him, or taint\nInvaded. He around Patroclus\u2019 tomb\nDrags him indeed pitiless, oft as day525\nReddens the east, yet safe from blemish still\nHis corse remains. Thou wouldst, thyself, admire\nSeeing how fresh the dew-drops, as he lies,\nRest on him, and his blood is cleansed away\nThat not a stain is left. Even his wounds530\n(For many a wound they gave him) all are closed,\nSuch care the blessed Gods have of thy son,\nDead as he is, whom living much they loved.\n  So he; then, glad, the ancient King replied.\nGood is it, oh my son! to yield the Gods535\nTheir just demands. My boy, while yet he lived,\nLived not unmindful of the worship due\nTo the Olympian powers, who, therefore, him\nRemember, even in the bands of death.\nCome then\u2014this beauteous cup take at my hand\u2014540\nBe thou my guard, and, if the Gods permit,\nMy guide, till to Achilles\u2019 tent I come.\n  Whom answer\u2019d then the messenger of heaven.\nSir! thou perceivest me young, and art disposed\nTo try my virtue; but it shall not fail.545\nThou bidd\u2019st me at thine hand a gift accept,\nWhereof Achilles knows not; but I fear\nAchilles, and on no account should dare\nDefraud him, lest some evil find me next.\nBut thee I would with pleasure hence conduct550\nEven to glorious Argos, over sea\nOr over land, nor any, through contempt\nOf such a guard, should dare to do thee wrong.\n  So Mercury, and to the chariot seat\nUpspringing, seized at once the lash and reins,555\nAnd with fresh vigor mules and steeds inspired.\nArriving at the foss and towers, they found\nThe guard preparing now their evening cheer,\nAll whom the Argicide with sudden sleep\nOppress\u2019d, then oped the gates, thrust back the bars,560\nAnd introduced, with all his litter-load\nOf costly gifts, the venerable King.\nBut when they reached the tent for Peleus\u2019 son\nRaised by the Myrmidons (with trunks of pine\nThey built it, lopping smooth the boughs away,555\nThen spread with shaggy mowings of the mead\nIts lofty roof, and with a spacious court\nSurrounded it, all fenced with driven stakes;\nOne bar alone of pine secured the door,\nWhich ask\u2019d three Grecians with united force570\nTo thrust it to its place, and three again\nTo thrust it back, although Achilles oft\nWould heave it to the door himself alone;)\nThen Hermes, benefactor of mankind,\nThat bar displacing for the King of Troy,575\nGave entrance to himself and to his gifts\nFor Peleus\u2019 son design\u2019d, and from the seat\nAlighting, thus his speech to Priam turn\u2019d.\n  Oh ancient Priam! an immortal God\nAttends thee; I am Hermes, by command580\nOf Jove my father thy appointed guide.\nBut I return. I will not, entering here,\nStand in Achilles\u2019 sight; immortal Powers\nMay not so unreservedly indulge\nCreatures of mortal kind. But enter thou,585\nEmbrace his knees, and by his father both\nAnd by his Goddess mother sue to him,\nAnd by his son, that his whole heart may melt.\n  So Hermes spake, and to the skies again\nAscended. Then leap\u2019d Priam to the ground,590\nLeaving Id\u00e6us; he, the mules and steeds\nWatch\u2019d, while the ancient King into the tent\nProceeded of Achilles dear to Jove.\nHim there he found, and sitting found apart\nHis fellow-warriors, of whom two alone595\nServed at his side, Alcimus, branch of Mars\nAnd brave Automedon; he had himself\nSupp\u2019d newly, and the board stood unremoved.\nUnseen of all huge Priam enter\u2019d, stood\nNear to Achilles, clasp\u2019d his knees, and kiss\u2019d600\nThose terrible and homicidal hands\nThat had destroy\u2019d so many of his sons.\nAs when a fugitive for blood the house\nOf some chief enters in a foreign land,\nAll gaze, astonish\u2019d at the sudden guest,605\nSo gazed Achilles seeing Priam there,\nAnd so stood all astonish\u2019d, each his eyes\nIn silence fastening on his fellow\u2019s face.\nBut Priam kneel\u2019d, and suppliant thus began.\n  Think, oh Achilles, semblance of the Gods!610\nOn thy own father full of days like me,\nAnd trembling on the gloomy verge of life.[12]\nSome neighbor chief, it may be, even now\nOppresses him, and there is none at hand,\nNo friend to suocor him in his distress.615\nYet, doubtless, hearing that Achilles lives,\nHe still rejoices, hoping, day by day,\nThat one day he shall see the face again\nOf his own son from distant Troy return\u2019d.\nBut me no comfort cheers, whose bravest sons,620\nSo late the flower of Ilium, all are slain.\nWhen Greece came hither, I had fifty sons;\nNineteen were children of one bed, the rest\nBorn of my concubines. A numerous house!\nBut fiery Mars hath thinn\u2019d it. One I had,625\nOne, more than all my sons the strength of Troy,\nWhom standing for his country thou hast slain\u2014\nHector\u2014his body to redeem I come\nInto Achaia\u2019s fleet, bringing, myself,\nRansom inestimable to thy tent.630\nReverence the Gods, Achilles! recollect\nThy father; for his sake compassion show\nTo me more pitiable still, who draw\nHome to my lips (humiliation yet\nUnseen on earth) his hand who slew my son.635\n  So saying, he waken\u2019d in his soul regret\nOf his own sire; softly he placed his hand\nOn Priam\u2019s hand, and push\u2019d him gently away.\nRemembrance melted both. Rolling before\nAchilles\u2019 feet, Priam his son deplored640\nWide-slaughtering Hector, and Achilles wept\nBy turns his father, and by turns his friend\nPatroclus; sounds of sorrow fill\u2019d the tent.\nBut when, at length satiate, Achilles felt\nHis heart from grief, and all his frame relieved,645\nUpstarting from his seat, with pity moved\nOf Priam\u2019s silver locks and silver beard,\nHe raised the ancient father by his hand,\nWhom in wing\u2019d accents kind he thus bespake.\n  Wretched indeed! ah what must thou have felt!650\nHow hast thou dared to seek alone the fleet\nOf the Achaians, and his face by whom\nSo many of thy valiant sons have fallen?\nThou hast a heart of iron, terror-proof.\nCome\u2014sit beside me\u2014let us, if we may,665\nGreat mourners both, bid sorrow sleep awhile.\nThere is no profit of our sighs and tears;\nFor thus, exempt from care themselves, the Gods\nOrdain man\u2019s miserable race to mourn.\nFast by the threshold of Jove\u2019s courts are placed660\nTwo casks, one stored with evil, one with good,\nFrom which the God dispenses as he wills.\nFor whom the glorious Thunderer mingles both,\nHe leads a life checker\u2019d with good and ill\nAlternate; but to whom he gives unmixt665\nThe bitter cup, he makes that man a curse,\nHis name becomes a by-word of reproach,\nHis strength is hunger-bitten, and he walks\nThe blessed earth, unblest, go where he may.\nSo was my father Peleus at his birth670\nNobly endow\u2019d with plenty and with wealth\nDistinguish\u2019d by the Gods past all mankind,\nLord of the Myrmidons, and, though a man,\nYet match\u2019d from heaven with an immortal bride.\nBut even him the Gods afflict, a son675\nRefusing him, who might possess his throne\nHereafter; for myself, his only heir,\nPass as a dream, and while I live, instead\nOf solacing his age, here sit, before\nYour distant walls, the scourge of thee and thine.680\nThee also, ancient Priam, we have heard\nReported, once possessor of such wealth\nAs neither Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns,\nNor eastern Phrygia, nor yet all the ports\nOf Hellespont, but thou didst pass them all685\nIn riches, and in number of thy sons.\nBut since the Powers of heaven brought on thy land\nThis fatal war, battle and deeds of death\nAlways surround the city where thou reign\u2019st.\nCease, therefore, from unprofitable tears,690\nWhich, ere they raise thy son to life again\nShall, doubtless, find fresh cause for which to flow.\n  To whom the ancient King godlike replied.\nHero, forbear. No seat is here for me,\nWhile Hector lies unburied in your camp.695\nLoose him, and loose him now, that with these eyes\nI may behold my son; accept a price\nMagnificent, which may\u2019st thou long enjoy,\nAnd, since my life was precious in thy sight,\nMay\u2019st thou revisit safe thy native shore!700\n  To whom Achilles, lowering, and in wrath.[13]\nUrge me no longer, at a time like this,\nWith that harsh note; I am already inclin\u2019d\nTo loose him. Thetis, my own mother came\nHerself on that same errand, sent from Jove.705\nPriam! I understand thee well. I know\nThat, by some God conducted, thou hast reach\u2019d\nAchaia\u2019s fleet; for, without aid divine,\nNo mortal even in his prime of youth,\nHad dared the attempt; guards vigilant as ours710\nHe should not easily elude, such gates,\nSo massy, should not easily unbar.\nThou, therefore, vex me not in my distress,\nLest I abhor to see thee in my tent,\nAnd, borne beyond all limits, set at nought715\nThee, and thy prayer, and the command of Jove.\n  He said; the old King trembled, and obey\u2019d.\nThen sprang Pelides like a lion forth,\nNot sole, but with his two attendant friends\nAlcimus and Automedon the brave,720\nFor them (Patroclus slain) he honor\u2019d most\nOf all the Myrmidons. They from the yoke\nReleased both steeds and mules, then introduced\nAnd placed the herald of the hoary King.\nThey lighten\u2019d next the litter of its charge725\nInestimable, leaving yet behind\nTwo mantles and a vest, that, not unveil\u2019d,\nThe body might be borne back into Troy.\nThen, calling forth his women, them he bade\nLave and anoint the body, but apart,730\nLest haply Priam, noticing his son,\nThrough stress of grief should give resentment scope,\nAnd irritate by some affront himself\nTo slay him, in despite of Jove\u2019s commands.[14]\nThey, therefore, laving and anointing first735\nThe body, cover\u2019d it with cloak and vest;\nThen, Peleus\u2019 son disposed it on the bier,\nLifting it from the ground, and his two friends\nTogether heaved it to the royal wain.\nAchilles, last, groaning, his friend invoked.740\n\n  Patroclus! should the tidings reach thine ear,\nAlthough in Ades, that I have released\nThe noble Hector at his father\u2019s suit,\nResent it not; no sordid gifts have paid\nHis ransom-price, which thou shalt also share.745\n  So saying, Achilles to his tent return\u2019d,\nAnd on the splendid couch whence he had risen\nAgain reclined, opposite to the seat\nOf Priam, whom the hero thus bespake.\n  Priam! at thy request thy son is loosed,750\nAnd lying on his bier; at dawn of day\nThou shalt both see him and convey him hence\nThyself to Troy. But take we now repast;\nFor even bright-hair\u2019d Niobe her food\nForgat not, though of children twelve bereft,755\nOf daughters six, and of six blooming sons.\nApollo these struck from his silver bow,\nAnd those shaft-arm\u2019d Diana, both incensed\nThat oft Latona\u2019s children and her own\nNumbering, she scorn\u2019d the Goddess who had borne760\nTwo only, while herself had twelve to boast.\nVain boast! those two sufficed to slay them all.\nNine days they welter\u2019d in their blood, no man\nWas found to bury them, for Jove had changed\nTo stone the people; but themselves, at last,765\nThe Powers of heaven entomb\u2019d them on the tenth.\nYet even she, once satisfied with tears,\nRemember\u2019d food; and now the rocks among\nAnd pathless solitudes of Sipylus,\nThe rumor\u2019d cradle of the nymphs who dance770\nOn Achelo\u00fcs\u2019 banks, although to stone\nTransform\u2019d, she broods her heaven-inflicted woes.\nCome, then, my venerable guest! take we\nRefreshment also; once arrived in Troy\nWith thy dear son, thou shalt have time to weep775\nSufficient, nor without most weighty cause.\n  So spake Achilles, and, upstarting, slew\nA sheep white-fleeced, which his attendants flay\u2019d,\nAnd busily and with much skill their task\nAdminist\u2019ring, first scored the viands well,780\nThen pierced them with the spits, and when the roast\nWas finish\u2019d, drew them from the spits again.\nAnd now, Automedon dispensed around\nThe polish\u2019d board bread in neat baskets piled,\nWhich done, Achilles portion\u2019d out to each785\nHis share, and all assail\u2019d the ready feast.\nBut when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt,\nDardanian Priam, wond\u2019ring at his bulk\nAnd beauty (for he seem\u2019d some God from heaven)\nGazed on Achilles, while Achilles held790\nNot less in admiration of his looks\nBenign, and of his gentle converse wise,\nGazed on Dardanian Priam, and, at length\n(The eyes of each gratified to the full)\nThe ancient King thus to Achilles spake.795\n  Hero! dismiss us now each to our bed,\nThat there at ease reclined, we may enjoy\nSweet sleep; for never have these eyelids closed\nSince Hector fell and died, but without cease\nI mourn, and nourishing unnumber\u2019d woes,800\nHave roll\u2019d me in the ashes of my courts.\nBut I have now both tasted food, and given\nWine to my lips, untasted till with thee.\n  So he, and at his word Achilles bade\nHis train beneath his portico prepare805\nWith all dispatch two couches, purple rugs,\nAnd arras, and warm mantles over all.\nForth went the women bearing lights, and spread\nA couch for each, when feigning needful fear,[15]\nAchilles thus his speech to Priam turn\u2019d.810\n  My aged guest beloved; sleep thou without;\nLest some Achaian chief (for such are wont\nOfttimes, here sitting, to consult with me)\nHither repair; of whom should any chance\nTo spy thee through the gloom, he would at once815\nConvey the tale to Agamemnon\u2019s ear,\nWhence hindrance might arise, and the release\nHaply of Hector\u2019s body be delay\u2019d.\nBut answer me with truth. How many days\nWouldst thou assign to the funereal rites820\nOf noble Hector, for so long I mean\nMyself to rest, and keep the host at home?\n  Then thus the ancient King godlike replied.\nIf thou indeed be willing that we give\nBurial to noble Hector, by an act825\nSo generous, O Achilles! me thou shalt\nMuch gratify; for we are shut, thou know\u2019st,\nIn Ilium close, and fuel must procure\nFrom Ida\u2019s side remote; fear, too, hath seized\nOn all our people. Therefore thus I say.830\nNine days we wish to mourn him in the house;\nTo his interment we would give the tenth,\nAnd to the public banquet; the eleventh\nShall see us build his tomb; and on the twelfth\n(If war we must) we will to war again.835\n  To whom Achilles, matchless in the race.\nSo be it, ancient Priam! I will curb\nTwelve days the rage of war, at thy desire.[16]\n  He spake, and at his wrist the right hand grasp\u2019d\nOf the old sovereign, to dispel his fear.840\nThen in the vestibule the herald slept\nAnd Priam, prudent both, but Peleus\u2019 son\nIn the interior tent, and at his side\nBris\u00ebis, with transcendent beauty adorn\u2019d.\n\n  Now all, all night, by gentle sleep subdued,845\nBoth Gods and chariot-ruling warriors lay,\nBut not the benefactor of mankind,\nHermes; him sleep seized not, but deep he mused\nHow likeliest from amid the Grecian fleet\nHe might deliver by the guard unseen850\nThe King of Ilium; at his head he stood\nIn vision, and the senior thus bespake.\n  Ah heedless and secure! hast thou no dread\nOf mischief, ancient King, that thus by foes\nThou sleep\u2019st surrounded, lull\u2019d by the consent855\nAnd sufferance of Achilles? Thou hast given\nMuch for redemption of thy darling son,\nBut thrice that sum thy sons who still survive\nMust give to Agamemnon and the Greeks\nFor _thy_ redemption, should they know thee here.860\n  He ended; at the sound alarm\u2019d upsprang\nThe King, and roused his herald. Hermes yoked\nHimself both mules and steeds, and through the camp\nDrove them incontinent, by all unseen.\n  Soon as the windings of the stream they reach\u2019d,865\nDeep-eddied Xanthus, progeny of Jove,\nMercury the Olympian summit sought,\nAnd saffron-vested morn o\u2019erspread the earth.\nThey, loud lamenting, to the city drove\nTheir steeds; the mules close follow\u2019d with the dead.870\nNor warrior yet, nor cinctured matron knew\nOf all in Ilium aught of their approach,\nCassandra sole except. She, beautiful\nAs golden Venus, mounted on the height\nOf Pergamus, her father first discern\u2019d,875\nBorne on his chariot-seat erect, and knew:\nThe herald heard so oft in echoing Troy;\nHim also on his bier outstretch\u2019d she mark\u2019d,\nWhom the mules drew. Then, shrieking, through the streets\nShe ran of Troy, and loud proclaim\u2019d the sight.880\nYe sons of Ilium and ye daughters, haste,\nHaste all to look on Hector, if ye e\u2019er\nWith joy beheld him, while he yet survived,\nFrom fight returning; for all Ilium erst\nIn him, and all her citizens rejoiced.885\n  She spake. Then neither male nor female more\nIn Troy remain\u2019d, such sorrow seized on all.\nIssuing from the city-gate, they met\nPriam conducting, sad, the body home,\nAnd, foremost of them all, the mother flew890\nAnd wife of Hector to the bier, on which\nTheir torn-off tresses with unsparing hands\nThey shower\u2019d, while all the people wept around.\nAll day, and to the going down of day\nThey thus had mourn\u2019d the dead before the gates,895\nHad not their Sovereign from his chariot-seat\nThus spoken to the multitude around.\n  Fall back on either side, and let the mules\nPass on; the body in my palace once\nDeposited, ye then may weep your fill.900\n  He said; they, opening, gave the litter way.\nArrived within the royal house, they stretch\u2019d\nThe breathless Hector on a sumptuous bed,\nAnd singers placed beside him, who should chant\nThe strain funereal; they with many a groan905\nThe dirge began, and still, at every close,\nThe female train with many a groan replied.\nThen, in the midst, Andromache white-arm\u2019d\nBetween her palms the dreadful Hector\u2019s head\nPressing, her lamentation thus began.910\n  [17]My hero! thou hast fallen in prime of life,\nMe leaving here desolate, and the fruit\nOf our ill-fated loves, a helpless child,\nWhom grown to manhood I despair to see.\nFor ere that day arrive, down from her height915\nPrecipitated shall this city fall,\nSince thou hast perish\u2019d once her sure defence,\nFaithful protector of her spotless wives,\nAnd all their little ones. Those wives shall soon\nIn Grecian barks capacious hence be borne,920\nAnd I among the rest. But thee, my child!\nEither thy fate shall with thy mother send\nCaptive into a land where thou shalt serve\nIn sordid drudgery some cruel lord,\nOr haply some Achaian here, thy hand925\nSeizing, shall hurl thee from a turret-top\nTo a sad death, avenging brother, son,\nOr father by the hands of Hector slain;\nFor he made many a Grecian bite the ground.\nThy father, boy, bore never into fight930\nA milky mind, and for that self-same cause\nIs now bewail\u2019d in every house of Troy.\nSorrow unutterable thou hast caused\nThy parents, Hector! but to me hast left\nLargest bequest of misery, to whom,935\nDying, thou neither didst thy arms extend\nForth from thy bed, nor gavest me precious word\nTo be remember\u2019d day and night with tears.\n  So spake she weeping, whom her maidens all\nWith sighs accompanied, and her complaint940\nMingled with sobs Hecuba next began.\n  Ah Hector! dearest to thy mother\u2019s heart\nOf all her sons, much must the Gods have loved\nThee living, whom, though dead, they thus preserve.\nWhat son soever of our house beside945\nAchilles took, over the barren deep\nTo Samos, Imbrus, or to Lemnos girt\nWith rocks inhospitable, him he sold;\nBut thee, by his dread spear of life deprived,\nHe dragg\u2019d and dragg\u2019d around Patroclus\u2019 tomb,950\nAs if to raise again his friend to life\nWhom thou hadst vanquish\u2019d; yet he raised him not.\nBut as for thee, thou liest here with dew\nBesprinkled, fresh as a young plant,[18] and more\nResemblest some fair youth by gentle shafts955\nOf Ph\u0153bus pierced, than one in battle slain.\n  So spake the Queen, exciting in all hearts\nSorrow immeasurable, after whom\nThus Helen, third, her lamentation pour\u2019d.\n  [19]Ah dearer far than all my brothers else960\nOf Priam\u2019s house! for being Paris\u2019 spouse,\nWho brought me (would I had first died!) to Troy,\nI call thy brothers mine; since forth I came\nFrom Sparta, it is now the twentieth year,\nYet never heard I once hard speech from thee,965\nOr taunt morose, but if it ever chanced,\nThat of thy father\u2019s house female or male\nBlamed me, and even if herself the Queen\n(For in the King, whate\u2019er befell, I found\nAlways a father) thou hast interposed970\nThy gentle temper and thy gentle speech\nTo soothe them; therefore, with the same sad drops\nThy fate, oh Hector! and my own I weep;\nFor other friend within the ample bounds\nOf Ilium have I none, nor hope to hear975\nKind word again, with horror view\u2019d by all.\n  So Helen spake weeping, to whom with groans\nThe countless multitude replied, and thus\nTheir ancient sovereign next his people charged.\n  Ye Trojans, now bring fuel home, nor fear980\nClose ambush of the Greeks; Achilles\u2019 self\nGave me, at my dismission from his fleet,\nAssurance, that from hostile force secure\nWe shall remain, till the twelfth dawn arise.\n  All, then, their mules and oxen to the wains985\nJoin\u2019d speedily, and under Ilium\u2019s walls\nAssembled numerous; nine whole days they toil\u2019d,\nBringing much fuel home, and when the tenth\nBright morn, with light for human kind, arose,\nThen bearing noble Hector forth, with tears990\nShed copious, on the summit of the pile\nThey placed him, and the fuel fired beneath.\n  But when Aurora, daughter of the Dawn,\nRedden\u2019d the east, then, thronging forth, all Troy\nEncompass\u2019d noble Hector\u2019s pile around.995\nThe whole vast multitude convened, with wine\nThey quench\u2019d the pile throughout, leaving no part\nUnvisited, on which the fire had seized.\nHis brothers, next, collected, and his friends,\nHis white bones, mourning, and with tears profuse1000\nWatering their cheeks; then in a golden urn\nThey placed them, which with mantles soft they veil\u2019d\nM\u00e6onian-hued, and, delving, buried it,\nAnd overspread with stones the spot adust.\nLastly, short time allowing to the task,1005\nThey heap\u2019d his tomb, while, posted on all sides,\nSuspicious of assault, spies watch\u2019d the Greeks.\nThe tomb once heap\u2019d, assembling all again\nWithin the palace, they a banquet shared\nMagnificent, by godlike Priam given.1010\n\nSuch burial the illustrious Hector found.[20]\n\n\n[I cannot take my leave of this noble poem, without expressing how much\nI am struck with this plain conclusion of it. It is like the exit of a\ngreat man out of company whom he has entertained magnificently; neither\npompous nor familiar; not contemptuous, yet without much ceremony. I\nrecollect nothing, among the works of mere man, that exemplifies so\nstrongly the true style of great antiquity.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book I:\n\n\n\u201cLatona\u2019s son and Jove\u2019s,\u201d was Apollo, the tutelary deity of the\nDorians. The Dorians had not, however, at this early age, become the\npredominant race in Greece proper. They had spread along the eastern\nshores of the Archipelago into the islands, especially Crete, and had\nevery where signalized themselves by the Temples of Apollo, of which\nthere seems to have been many in and about Troy. These temples were\nschools of art, and prove the Dorians to have been both intellectual\nand powerful. Homer was an Ionian, and therefore not deeply acquainted\nwith the nature of the Dorian god. But to a mind like his, the god of a\npeople so cultivated, and associated with what was most grand in art,\nmust have been an imposing being, and we find him so represented.\nThroughout the Iliad, he appears and acts with splendor and effect, but\nalways against the Greeks from mere partiality to Hector. It would\nperhaps be too much to say, that in this partiality to Hector, we\ndetect the spirit of the Dorian worship, the only Paganism of antiquity\nthat tended to perfect the individual\u2014Apollo being the expression of\nthe moral harmony of the universe, and the great spirit of the Dorian\nculture being to make a perfect man, an incarnation of the\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2. This Homer could only have known intuitively.\n\nIn making Apollo author of the plague, he was confounded with Helios,\nwhich was frequent afterwards, but is not seen elsewhere in Homer. The\narrows of Apollo were \u201csilent as light,\u201d and their emblem the sun\u2019s\nrays. The analogies are multitudinous between the natural and\nintellectual sun; but Helios and Apollo were two.\u2014E.P.P.\n\nThere is something exceedingly venerable in this appearance of the\npriest. He comes with the ensigns of the gods to whom he belongs, with\nthe laurel wreath, to show that he was a suppliant, and a golden\nsceptre, which the ancients gave in particular to Apollo, as they did\none of silver to Diana.\n\nThe art of this speech is remarkable. Chryses considers the army of\nGreeks, as made up of troops, partly from the kingdoms and partly from\ndemocracies, and therefore begins with a distinction that includes all.\nThen, as priest of Apollo, he prays that they may obtain the two\nblessings they most desire\u2014the conquest of Troy and a safe return. As\nhe names his petition, he offers an extraordinary ransom, and concludes\nwith bidding them fear the god if they refuse it; like one who from his\noffice seems to foretell their misery, and exhorts them to shun it.\nThus he endeavors to work by the art of a general application, by\nreligion, by interest, and the insinuation of danger.\n\nHomer is frequently eloquent in his silence. Chryses says not a word in\nanswer to the insults of Agamemnon, but walks pensively along the\nshore. The melancholy flowing of the verse admirably expresses the\ncondition of the mournful and deserted father.\n\n[So called on account of his having saved the people of Troas from a\nplague of mice, _sminthos_ in their language meaning a mouse.\u2014Tr.]\n\nApollo had temples at Chrysa, Tenedos, and Cilla, all of which lay\nround the bay of Troas. M\u00fcller remarks, that \u201cthe temple actually stood\nin the situation referred to, and that the appellation of Smintheus was\nstill preserved in the district. Thus far actual circumstances are\nembodied in the mythus. On the other hand, the action of the deity as\nsuch, is purely ideal, and can have no other foundation than the belief\nthat Apollo sternly resents ill usage of his priests, and that too in\nthe way here represented, viz., by sending plagues. This belief is in\nperfect harmony with the idea generally entertained of the power and\nagency of Apollo; and it is manifest that the idea placed in\ncombination with certain events, gave birth to the story so far as\nrelates to the god. We have not yet the means of ascertaining whether\nit is to be regarded as a historical tradition, or an invention, and\nmust therefore leave that question for the present undecided.\u201d\n\nThe poet is careful to leave no prayer unanswered that has justice on\nits side. He who prays either kills his enemy, or has signs given him\nthat he has been heard.\n\n[For this singular line the Translator begs to apologize, by pleading\nthe strong desire he felt to produce an English line, if possible,\nsomewhat resembling in its effect the famous original one.\n\n\u0394\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b7 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4 \u03b1\u03c1\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03b5\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf \u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe plague in the Grecian camp was occasioned perhaps by immoderate\nheats and gross exhalations. Homer takes occasion from it, to open the\nscene with a beautiful allegory. He supposes that such afflictions are\nsent from Heaven for the punishment of evil actions; and because the\nsun was the principal agent, he says it was sent to punish Agamemnon\nfor despising that god, and injuring his priest.\n\nHippocrates observes two things of plagues; that their cause is in the\nair, and that different animals are differently affected by them,\naccording to their nature and nourishment. This philosophy is referred\nto the plagues here mentioned. First, the cause is in the air by means\nof the darts or beams of Apollo; second, the mules and dogs are said to\ndie sooner than the men, partly from their natural quickness of smell,\nand partly from their feeding so near the earth whence the exhalations\narise.\n\nJuno, queen of Olympus, sides with the Grecians. Mr. Coleridge (in his\ndisquisition upon the Prometheus of \u00c6schylus, published in his Remains)\nshows very clearly by historical criticism, that Juno, in the Grecian\nreligion, expressed the spirit of conservatism. Without going over his\nargument we assume it here, for Homer always attributes to Juno every\nthing that may be predicated of this principle. She is persistent,\nobstinate, acts from no idea, but often uses a superficial reasoning,\nand refers to Fate, with which she upbraids Jupiter. Jupiter is the\nintellectual power or Free Will, and by their union, or rather from\ntheir antagonism, the course of things proceeds with perpetual\nvicissitude, but with a great deal of life.\u2014E.P.P.\n\nObserve this Grecian priest. He has no political power, and commands\nlittle reverence. In Agamemnon\u2019s treatment of him, as well as Chryses,\nis seen the relation of the religion to the government. It was neither\nmaster nor slave.\u2014E.P.P.\n\nA district of Thessaly forming a part of the larger district of\nPhthiotis. Phthiotis, according to Strabo, included all the southern\nportion of that country as far as Mount \u0152ta and the Maliac Gulf. To the\nwest it bordered on Dolopia, and on the east reached the confines of\nMagnesia. Homer comprised within this extent of territory the districts\nof Phthia and Hellas properly so called, and, generally speaking, the\ndominions of Achilles, together with those of Protesilaus and\nEurypylus.\n\n\u039a\u03c5\u03bd\u03c9\u03c0\u03b1.\n\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\nAgamemnon\u2019s anger is that of a lover, and Achilles\u2019 that of a warrior.\nAgamemnon speaks of Chrys\u00ebis as a beauty whom he values too much to\nresign. Achilles treats Bris\u00ebis as a slave, whom he is anxious to\npreserve in point of honor, and as a testimony of his glory. Hence he\nmentions her only as \u201chis spoil,\u201d \u201cthe reward of war,\u201d etc.;\naccordingly he relinquishes her not in grief for a favorite whom he\nloses, but in sullenness for the injury done him.\u2014Dacier.\n\nJupiter, in the disguise of an ant, deceived Eurymedusa, the daughter\nof Cleitos. Her son was for this reason called Myrmidon (from \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7\u03be,\nan ant), and was regarded as the ancestor of the Myrmidons in\nThessaly.\u2014Smith.\n\nAccording to the belief of the ancients, the gods were supposed to have\na peculiar light in their eyes. That Homer was not ignorant of this\nopinion appears from his use of it in other places.\n\nMinerva is the goddess of the art of war rather than of war itself. And\nthis fable of her descent is an allegory of Achilles restraining his\nwrath through his consideration of martial law and order. This law in\nthat age, prescribed that a subordinate should not draw his sword upon\nthe commander of all, but allowed a liberty of speech which appears to\nus moderns rather out of order.\u2014E.P.P.\n\n[The shield of Jupiter, made by Vulcan, and so called from its\ncovering, which was the skin of the goat that suckled him.\u2014Tr.]\n\nHomer magnifies the ambush as the boldest enterprise of war. They went\nupon those parties with a few only, and generally the most daring of\nthe army, and on occasions of the greatest hazard, when the exposure\nwas greater than in a regular battle. Idomeneus, in the 13th book,\ntells Meriones that the greatest courage appears in this way of\nservice, each man being in a manner singled out to the proof of it.\n\nIn the earlier ages of the world, the sceptre of a king was nothing\nmore than his walking-staff, and thence had the name of sceptre. Ovid,\nin speaking of Jupiter, describes him as resting on his\nsceptre.\u2014Spence.\n\nFrom the description here given, it would appear to have been a young\ntree cut from the root and stripped of its branches. It was the custom\nof Kings to swear by their sceptres.\n\nFor an account of the contest between the Centaurs and Lapiths here\nreferred to, see Grecian and Roman Mythology.\n\nIn _antiquity_, a sacrifice of a hundred oxen, or beasts of the same\nkind; hence sometimes _indefinitely_, any sacrifice of a large number\nof victims.\n\n[The original is here abrupt, and expresses the precipitancy of the\nspeaker by a most beautiful aposiopesis.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe Iliad, in its connection, is, we all know, a glorification of\nAchilles by Zeus; for the Trojans only prevail because Zeus wishes to\nshow that the reposing hero who sits in solitude, can alone conquer\nthem. But to leave him this glorification entirely unmixed with sorrow,\nthe Grecian sense of moderation forbids. The deepest anguish must\nmingle with his consciousness of fame, and punish his insolence. That\nglorification is the will of Zeus; and in the spirit of the ancient\nmythus, a motive for it is assigned in a divine legend. The sea-goddess\nThetis, who was, according to the Phthiotic mythus, wedded to the\nmortal Peleus, saved Zeus, by calling up the giant Briareus or \u00c6g\u00e6on to\nhis rescue. Why it was \u00c6g\u00e6on, is explained by the fact that this was a\ngreat sea-demon, who formed the subject of fables at Poseidonian\nCorinth, where even the sea-god himself was called \u00c6g\u00e6on; who,\nmoreover, was worshipped at several places in Eub\u0153a, the seat of\nPoseidon \u00c6g\u00e6us; and whom the Theogony calls the son-in-law of Poseidon,\nand most of the genealogists, especially Eumelus in the Titanomachy,\nbrought into relation with the sea. There is therefore good reason to\nbe found in ancient belief, why Thetis called up \u00c6g\u00e6on of all others to\nJove\u2019s assistance. The whole of the story, however, is not detailed\u2014it\nis not much more than indicated\u2014and therefore it would be difficult\neven now to interpret it in a perfectly satisfactory manner. It bears\nthe same relation to the Iliad, that the northern fables of the gods,\nwhich serve as a back-ground to the legend of Nibelungen, bear to our\nGerman ballad, only that here the separation is much greater\nstill\u2014Muller.\n\nHomer makes use of this fable, without reference to its meaning as an\nallegory. Briareus seems to symbolize a navy, and the fable refers to\nsome event in remote history, when the reigning power was threatened in\nhis autocracy, and strengthened by means of his association with the\npeople against some intermediate class.\u2014E.P.P.\n\n\u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[A name by which we are frequently to understand the Nile in\nHomer.\u2014Tr.]\n\nAround the sources of the Nile, and thence south-west into the very\nheart of Africa, stretching away indefinitely over its mountain plains,\nlies the country which the ancients called Ethiopia, rumors of whose\nwonderful people found their way early into Greece, and are scattered\nover the pages of her poets and historians.\n\nHomer wrote at least eight hundred years before Christ, and his poems\nare well ascertained to be a most faithful mirror of the manners of his\ntimes and the knowledge of his age.  *  *  *  *  *  *\n\nHomer never wastes an epithet. He often alludes to the Ethiopians\nelsewhere, and always in terms of admiration and praise, as being the\nmost just of men, and the favorites of the gods. The same allusions\nglimmer through the Greek mythology, and appear in the verses of almost\nall the Greek poets, ere yet the countries of Italy and Sicily were\neven discovered. The Jewish Scriptures and Jewish literature abound in\nallusions to this distant and mysterious people, the annals of the\nEgyptian priests are full of them, and uniformly, the Ethiopians are\nthere lauded as among the best, the most religious, and most civilized\nof men.\u2014Christian Examiner.\n\nThe Ethiopians, says Diodorus, are said to be the inventors of pomps,\nsacrifices, solemn meetings, and other honors paid to the gods. From\nhence arose their character of piety, which is here celebrated by\nHomer. Among these there was an annual feast at Diospolis, which\nEustathius mentions, when they carried about the statues of Jupiter and\nother gods, for twelve days, according to their number; to which, if we\nadd the ancient custom of setting meat before statues, it will appear\nto be a rite from which this fable might easily have arisen.\n\n[The original word (\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2) seems to express variety of soundings,\nan idea probably not to be conveyed in an English epithet.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe following passage gives the most exact account of the ancient\nsacrifices that we have left us. There is first, the purification by\nthe washing of hands; second, the offering up of prayers; third, the\nbarley-cakes thrown upon the victim; fourth, the manner of killing it,\nwith the head turned upwards; fifth, selecting the thighs and fat for\ntheir gods, as the best of the sacrifice, and disposing about them\npieces cut from every part for a representation of the whole (hence the\nthighs are frequently spoken of in Homer and the Greek poets as the\nwhole victim); sixth, the libation of wine; seventh, consuming the\nthighs in the fire of the altar; eighth, the sacrificers dressing and\nfeasting on the rest, with joy and hymns to the gods.\n\nThe _P\u00e6an_ (originally sung in honor of Apollo) was a hymn to\npropitiate the god, and also a song of thanksgiving, when freed from\ndanger. It was always of a joyous nature. Both tune and sound expressed\nhope and confidence. It was sung by several persons, one of whom\nprobably led the others, and the singers either marched onward, or sat\ntogether at table.\n\nIt was the custom to draw the ships entirely upon the shore, and to\nsecure them by long props.\u2014Felton\n\nSuppliants threw themselves at the feet of the person to whom the\nsupplication was addressed, and embraced his knees.\u2014Felton.\n\nAmbrosia, the food of the gods, conferred upon them eternal youth and\nimmortality, and was brought to Jupiter by pigeons. It was also used by\nthe gods for anointing the body and hair. Hence the expression,\nambrosial locks.\n\nThe original says, \u201cthe ox-eyed goddess,\u201d which furnishes Coleridge\nwith one of the hints on which he proceeds in historically identifying\nthe Argive Juno with Io and Isis, &c. There is real wit in Homer\u2019s\nmaking her say to Jupiter, \u201cI never search thy thoughts,\u201d &c. The\nprinciple of conservatism asks nothing of the intellectual power, but\nblindly contends, reposing upon the instinct of a common sense, which\nleads her always to surmise that something is intended by the\nintellectual power that she shall not like.\u2014E.P.P.\n\nThis refers to an old fable of Jupiter\u2019s hanging up Juno and whipping\nher. Homer introduces it without reference to its meaning, which was\nundoubtedly some physical truth connected with the ether and the\natmosphere.\u2014E.P.P.\n\n[The reader, in order that he may partake with the gods in the drollery\nof this scene, should observe that the crippled and distorted Vulcan\nhad thrust himself into an office at all other times administered\neither by Hebe or Ganymede.\u2014Tr.]\n\nAs Minerva or Wisdom was among the company, the poet\u2019s making Vulcan\nact the part of peace-maker, would appear to have been from choice,\nknowing that a mirthful person may often stop a quarrel, by making\nhimself the subject of merriment.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book II:\n\n\nThe poem now becomes more exciting; the language more animated; the\ndescriptions more lively and figurative. Homer seems to kindle with his\nsubject, and to press all the phenomena of nature into his service for\nthe purpose of illustration and adornment. Jupiter prepares to keep his\npromise of avenging Achilles, by drawing Agamemnon into a deceitful\nexpectation of taking the city. The forces are arranged for battle,\nwhich gives occasion for the celebrated catalogue.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe whole action of the Dream is natural. It takes the figure of one\nmuch beloved by Agamemnon, as the object that is most in our thoughts\nwhen awake, is the one that oftenest appears to us in our dreams, and\njust at the instant of its vanishing, leaves so strong an impression,\nthat the voice seems still sounding in his ear.\n\nThe Dream also repeats the words of Jupiter without variation, which is\nconsidered as a great propriety in delivering a message from the father\nof gods and men.\n\nKing of Pylus, an ancient city of Elis.\n\n[Agamemnon seems to entertain some doubts lest the army should so\nresent his treatment of their favorite Achilles, as to be indisposed to\nserve him.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[Mercury.]\n\n[Argus.]\n\nHomer, in a happy and poetical manner, acquaints us with the high\ndescent of Agamemnon, and traces the origin of his power to the highest\nsource, by saying, that the sceptre had descended to him from the hand\nof Jupiter.\n\nThe power of Agamemnon as a monarch refers to his being the leader of\nan army. According to the form of royalty in the heroic age, a king had\nonly the power of a magistrate, except as he held the office of priest.\nAristotle defines a king as a Leader of war, a Judge of controversies,\nand President of the ceremonies of the gods. That he had the principal\ncare of religious rites, appears from many passages in Homer. His power\nwas nowhere absolute but in war, for we find Agamemnon insulted in the\ncouncil, but in the army threatening deserters with death. Agamemnon is\nsometimes styled king of kings, as the other princes had given him\nsupreme authority over them in the siege.\n\n[The extremest provocation is implied in this expression, which\nThersites quotes exactly as he had heard it from the lips of\nAchilles.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe character of Thersites is admirably sketched. There is nothing\nvague and indistinct, but all the traits are so lively, that he stands\nbefore us like the image of some absurd being whom we have ourselves\nseen. It has been justly remarked by critics, that the poet displays\ngreat skill in representing the opponents of Agamemnon in the character\nof so base a personage, since nothing could more effectually reconcile\nthe Greeks to the continuance of the war, than the ridiculous\nturbulence of Thersites.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Some for \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 here read \u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2; which reading I have adopted for the\nsake both of perspicuity and connection.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe principal signs by which the gods were thought to declare their\nwill, were things connected with the offering of sacrifices, the flight\nand voice of birds, all kinds of natural phenomena, ordinary as well as\nextraordinary dreams.\n\nAn epithet supposed to have been derived from Gerenia, a Messenian\ntown, where Nestor was educated.\n\nIn the pictures which Homer draws of him, the most striking features\nare his wisdom, bravery, and knowledge of war, his eloquence, and his\nold age.\n\nFor some general remarks upon the heroes of the time, see Grecian and\nRoman Mythology.\n\nIn allusion to the custom of pouring out a libation of pure wine, in\nthe ceremony of forming a league, and joining right hands, as a pledge\nof mutual fidelity after the sacrifice.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Nestor is supposed here to glance at Achilles.\u2014Tr.]\n\nHomer here exalts wisdom over valor.\n\n[Money stamped with the figure of an ox.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe encouragement of a divine power, seemed all that was requisite to\nchange the dispositions of the Grecians, and make them more ardent for\ncombat than they had previously been to return. This conquers their\ninclinations in a manner at once poetical and in keeping with the moral\nwhich is every where spread through Homer, that nothing is accomplished\nwithout divine assistance.\n\nHomer\u2019s rich invention gives us five beautiful similes on the march of\nthe army. This profusion and variety can never be sufficiently admired.\n\nThe superior knowledge that the poet here attributes to the Muses as\ndivine beings, and then his occasional invocations to them, gives an\nair of importance to his subject and has an imposing effect.\n\nHowever fabulous the other parts of Homer\u2019s poems may be, this account\nof the princes, people, and countries, is by far the most valuable\npiece of history and geography left us in regard to the state of Greece\nin that early period. Greece was then divided into several dynasties,\nwhich Homer has enumerated under their respective princes; and his\ndivision was considered so correct, that many disputes respecting the\nboundaries of Grecian cities were decided upon his authority.\nEustathius has collected together the following instances: The city of\nCalydon was adjudged to the \u00c6tolians, notwithstanding the pretensions\nof \u00c6olia, because it was ranked by Homer as belonging to the former.\nSestos was given to those of Abydos, upon the plea that he had said the\nAbydonians were possessors of Sestos, Abydos, and Arisbe. When the\nMilesians and people of Priene disputed their claim to Mycale, a verse\nof Homer gave it to the Milesians. The Athenians were put in possession\nof Salamis by another which was cited by Solon, or (according to some)\ninterpolated by him for that purpose; and Porphyry says, that the\ncatalogue was so highly esteemed, that the youths of some nations were\nrequired to commit it to memory.\n\nProfessor Felton remarks, \u201cThe student is advised to give particular\nattention to this important passage. He will find it the most\ninteresting fragment of geography extant; interesting for the poetical\nbeauty of the verse, the regular order which is followed, and the\nlittle characteristic touches which denote the peculiarities of the\nseveral provinces. The more he examines this catalogue with the\nsubsidiary lights of geography, history and travels, the more cause\nwill he find of wonder, that a description so ancient should combine so\nmuch accuracy, beauty, and interest. It is recommended to the student,\nto trace the provinces and cities on some good map of ancient Greece.\u201d\n\n[Some say Thebes the less, others, the suburbs of Thebes the greater.\nIt is certain that Thebes itself sent none.\u2014Tr.]\n\nIt was the custom of these people to shave the fore parts of their\nheads, that their enemies might not seize them by the hair; on the\nhinder part they allowed it to grow, as a valiant race that would never\nturn their backs. Their manner of fighting was hand to hand, without\nquitting their javelins.\n\nMenelaus is occasionally distinguished by his activity, which shows his\npersonal concern in the war.\n\nThe Arcadians, being an inland people, were unskilled in navigation,\nfor which reason Agamemnon furnished them with shipping.\n\nNireus is nowhere mentioned as a leader but in these lines. As rank and\nbeauty were his only qualifications, he is allowed to sink into\noblivion.\n\nThe mud of the Peneus is of a light color, for which reason Homer gives\nit the epithet of silvery. The Titaresius, and other small streams\nwhich are rolled from Olympus and Ossa, are so extremely clear, that\ntheir waters are distinguished from those of the Peneus for a\nconsiderable distance from the point of their confluence.\u2014Dodwell.\n\nDr. Clarke, in his travels, describes this tomb as a conical mound; and\nsays that it is the spot of all others for viewing the plain of Troy,\nas it is visible in all parts of Troas. From its top may be traced the\ncourse of the Scamander, the whole chain of Ida, stretching towards\nLectum, the snowy heights of Gargarus, and all the shores of\nHellespont, near the mouth of the river Sig\u00e6um and the other tumuli\nupon the coast.\n\nA patronymic given to Achilles as descendant of \u00c6acus, father of\nPeleus.\n\nA river of Troas in Asia Minor, the same as the Scamander.\n\nThis expression is construed by critics as denoting an unpolished\ndialect, but not a foreign.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book III:\n\n\nThe scenes described in this book are exceedingly lifesome. The figures\nare animating and beautiful, and the mind of the reader is borne along\nwith breathless interest over the sonorous verse.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis is a striking simile, from its exactness in two points\u2014the noise\nand the order. It has been supposed that the embattling of an army was\nfirst learned by observing the close order of the flight of these\nbirds. The noise of the Trojans contrasts strongly with the silence of\nthe Greeks. Plutarch remarks upon this distinction as a credit to the\nmilitary discipline of the latter, and Homer would seem to have\nattached some importance to it, as he again alludes to the same thing.\nBook iv. 510.\n\n[Paris, frequently named Alexander in the original.\u2014Tr.]\n\nNot from cowardice, but from a sense of guilt towards Menelaus. At the\nhead of an army he challenges the boldest of the enemy; and Hector, at\nthe end of the Sixth Book, confesses that no man could reproach him as\na coward. Homer has a fine moral;\u2014A brave mind, however blinded with\npassion, is sensible of remorse whenever he meets the person whom he\nhas injured; and Paris is never made to appear cowardly, but when\novercome by the consciousness of his injustice.\n\n[\u039b\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf \u03c7\u03b9\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\u03b1]\n\nIn allusion to the Oriental custom of stoning to death for the crime of\nadultery.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe sling was a very efficacious and important instrument in ancient\nwarfare. Stones were also thrown with the hand. The Libyans carried no\nother arms than the spear and a bag of stones.\n\nThe Trojans were required to sacrifice two lambs; one male of a white\ncolor to the Sun, as the father of light, and one female and black to\nthe Earth, the mother and nurse of men. That these were the powers to\nwhich they sacrificed appears from their being attested by name in the\noath. III. 330.\n\nHelen\u2019s weaving the events of the Trojan war in a veil is an agreeable\nfiction; and one might suppose that it was inherited by Homer, and\nexplained in his Iliad.\u2014Dacier.\n\n[Not the grasshopper, but an insect well known in hot countries, and\nwhich in Italy is called Cic\u00e1la. The grasshopper rests on the ground,\nbut the favorite abode of the Cic\u00e1la is in the trees and hedges.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThis episode is remarkable for its beauty. The effect of Helen\u2019s\nappearance upon the aged counsellors is striking and poetical. It must\nbe borne in mind, that Helen was of divine parentage and unfading\nbeauty, and this will explain the enthusiasm which her sight called\nforth from the old men. The poet\u2019s skill in taking this method of\ndescribing the Grecian chieftains is obvious, and the sketches\nthemselves are living and characteristic to a high degree. The\nreminiscences of the aged Priam, as their names are announced, and the\npenitential sorrow of the erring Helen, which the sight of her\ncountrymen, and the recollection of her home, her child, her\ncompanions, excite in her bosom, are among the most skilful touches of\nnatural feeling.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe character of a benevolent old man is well preserved in Priam\u2019s\nbehavior to Helen. Upon observing her confusion, he attributes the\nmisfortunes of the war to the gods alone. This sentiment is also\nnatural to old age. Those who have had the longest experience of life,\nare the most inclined to ascribe the disposal of all things to the will\nof Heaven.\n\nThis view of the Grecian leaders from the walls of Troy, is admired as\nan episode of great beauty, and considered a masterly manner of\nacquainting the reader with the figure and qualifications of each hero.\n\nHelen sees no where in the plain her two brothers Castor and Pollux.\nHer inquiry is a natural one, and her self-reproach naturally suggests\nher own disgrace as the cause of their not appearing among the other\ncommanders. The two lines in which the poet mentions their death are\nsimple and touching.\u2014Felton.\n\nHomer here gives the whole ceremonial of the solemn oath, as it was\nthen observed by the nations of whom he writes.\n\nIt must be borne in mind that sacrificing was the most solemn act of\nreligion, and that kings were also chief-priests.\n\nThe armor of both Greeks and Trojans consisted of six portions, and was\nalways put on in the order here given. The greaves were for the defence\nof the legs. They were made of some kind of metal, and probably lined\nwith cloth or felt. The cuirass or corselet for the body, was made of\nhorn cut in thin pieces and fastened upon linen cloth, one piece\noverlapping another. The sword hung on the left side by means of a belt\nwhich passed over the right shoulder. The large round shield, sometimes\nmade of osiers twisted together and covered with several ox-hides, and\nbound round the edge with metal. In the Homeric times it was supported\nby a belt; subsequently a band was placed across the inner side, in\nwhich the left arm was inserted, and a strong leather strap fastened\nnear the edge at certain distances, which was grasped by the hand. The\nhelmet, made of metal and lined with felt. Lastly the spear, and in\nmany cases two. The heavy-armed soldiery were distinguished from the\nlight. The covering of the latter consisted of skins, and instead of\nthe sword and lance, they fought with darts, bows and arrows, or\nslings, and were generally attached in a subordinate capacity to the\nheavy-armed soldiery.\n\nHomer puts a prayer in the mouth of Menela\u00fcs, but none in that of\nParis. Menela\u00fcs is injured and innocent, and may therefore ask for\njustice; but Paris, who is the criminal, remains silent.\n\n[Because the hide of a beast that dies in health is tougher and fitter\nfor use than of another that dies diseased.]\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book IV:\n\n\nThe goddess of youth is made an attendant at the banquets of the gods,\nto show that they enjoyed a perpetual youth, and endless felicity.\n\n[A town of that name in B\u0153otia, where Pallas was particularly\nworshipped.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[\u0392\u03bf\u03c9\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2, constant description of Juno, but not susceptible of literal\ntranslation.]\n\nHomer does not make the gods use all persons indiscriminately as their\nagents, but each according to his powers. When Minerva would persuade\nthe Greeks, she seeks Ulysses; when she would break the truce, for\nPandarus; and when she would conquer, for Diomede. The goddess went not\nto the Trojans, because they hated Paris, and looks among the allies,\nwhere she finds Pandarus, who was of a nation noted for perfidiousness,\nand who, from his avarice, was capable of engaging in this treachery\nfor the hope of a reward from Paris.\n\nA city of Asia Minor.\n\nThis description, so full of circumstantial detail, is remarkably\nbeautiful. 1. The history of the bow, giving in a few words the picture\nof a hunter, lying in ambush and slaying his victim. 2. Then the\nprocess of making the bow. 3. The anxious preparation for discharging\nthe arrow with certainty, which was destined to break off the truce and\nprecipitate the battle. 4. The hurried prayer and vow to Apollo, after\nwhich the string is drawn, the cord twangs, the arrow \u201cleaps forth.\u201d\nThe whole is described with such graphic truth, that we see, and hear,\nand wait in breathless suspense to know the result.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis is one of those humble comparisons with which Homer sometimes\ndiversifies his subject, but a very exact one of its kind, and\ncorresponding in all its parts. The care of the goddess, the\nunsuspecting security of Menelaus, the ease with which she diverts the\ndanger, and the danger itself, are all included in these few words. To\nwhich may be added, that if the providence of heavenly powers to their\ncreatures is expressed by the love of a mother to her child, if men in\nregard to them are but as sleeping infants, and the dangers that seem\nso great to us, as easily warded off as the simile implies, the\nconception appears sublime, however insignificant the image may at\nfirst seem in regard to a hero.\n\nFrom this we learn that the Lydians and Carians were famous for their\nskill in dying purple, and that their women excelled in works of ivory;\nand also that there were certain ornaments that only kings and princes\nwere privileged to wear.\n\nThis speech of Agamemnon over his wounded brother, is full of noble\npower and touching eloquence. The Trojans have violated a truce\nsanctioned by a solemn sacrifice to the gods. The reflection that such\nperjury cannot pass with impunity, but that Jove will, sooner or later,\npunish it, occurs first to the mind of the warrior. In the excitement\nof the moment, he predicts that the day will surely come when sacred\nTroy shall fall. From this impetuous feeling his mind suddenly returns\nto the condition of his brother, and imagines with much pathos, the\nconsequences that will follow from his death, and ends with the wish,\nthat the earth may open before him when that time shall come.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe poet here changes the narration, and apostrophises the reader.\nCritics commend this figure, as the reader then becomes a spectator,\nand his mind is kept fixed on the action.\n\nIn the following review of the army, we see the skill of an\naccomplished general as well as the characters of the leaders whom\nAgamemnon addresses. He begins with an address to the army in general,\nand then turns to individuals. To the brave he urges their secure hopes\nof conquest, since the gods must punish perjury; to the timid, their\ninevitable destruction if the enemy should burn their ships. After this\nhe flies from rank to rank, skilfully addressing each ally, and\npresents a lively picture of a great mind in the highest emotion.\n\nThe ancients usually in their feasts divided to the guests in equal\nportions, except they took particular occasion to show distinction. It\nwas then considered the highest mark of honor to be allotted the best\nportion of meat and wine, and to be allowed an exemption from the laws\nof the feast in drinking wine unmingled and without measure. This\ncustom was much more ancient than the time of the Trojan war, and we\nfind it practised in the banquet given by Joseph to his brethren.\n\n[Diverse interpretations are given of this passage. I have adopted that\nwhich to me appeared most plausible. It seems to be a caution against\nthe mischiefs that might ensue, should the horses be put under the\nmanagement of a driver with whom they were unacquainted.\u2014The scholium\nby Villoisson much countenances this solution.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[Here Nestor only mentions the name of Ereuthalion, knowing the present\nto be an improper time for story-telling; in the seventh book he\nrelates his fight and victory at length. This passage may serve to\nconfute those who charge Nestor with indiscriminate loquacity.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe first Theban war, previously alluded to, took place twenty-seven\nyears before the war of Troy. Sthenelus here speaks of the second,\nwhich happened ten years after the first. For an account of these wars\nsee Grecian and Roman Mythology.\n\nThis is a most animated description. The onset, the clashing of spears,\nthe shield pressed to shield, the tumult of the battle, the shouts and\ngroans of the slayer and the dying\u2014all are described in words, the very\nsound of which conveys the terrible meaning. Then come the exploits\nperformed by individual heroes. The student must bear in mind, that the\nbattles of the heroic age depended in a great measure upon the prowess\nof single chieftains. Hence the appropriateness of the following\nenumeration.\u2014Felton.\n\nSo called from the river Simo\u00efs, near which he was born. It was an\neastern custom to name children from the most remarkable accident of\ntheir birth. The Scriptures furnish many examples. In the Old Testament\nprinces were also compared to trees, and Sim\u00f6isius is here resembled to\na poplar.\n\nHomer occasionally puts his readers in mind of Achilles, and finds\noccasion to celebrate his valor with the highest praise. Apollo here\ntells the Trojans they have nothing to fear, since Achilles fights not.\n\n[\u0391\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9. They wore only a lock of hair on the crown of the head.]\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book V:\n\n\nIn each battle there is one prominent person who may be called the hero\nof the day. This arrangement preserves unity, and helps to fix the\nattention of the reader. The gods sometimes favor one hero, and\nsometimes another. In this book we have the exploits of Diomede.\nAssisted by Minerva, he is eminent both for prudence and valor.\n\nSirius. This comparison, among many others, shows how constantly the\npoet\u2019s attention was directed to the phenomena of nature.\u2014Felton.\n\n\u0397\u03b9\u03bf\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9.\n\nThe chariots were probably very low. We frequently find in the Iliad\nthat a person standing in a chariot is killed (and sometimes by a\nstroke on the head) by a foot soldier with a sword. This may farther\nappear from the ease with which they mount or alight, to facilitate\nwhich, the chariots were made open behind. That the wheels were small,\nmay be supposed from their custom of taking them off and putting them\non. Hebe puts on the wheels of Juno\u2019s chariot, when he called for it in\nbattle. It may be in allusion to the same custom, that it is said in\nEx., ch. xiv.: \u201cThe Lord took off their chariot wheels, so that they\ndrove them heavily.\u201d That it was very small and light, is evident from\na passage in the tenth Il., where Diomede debates whether he shall draw\nthe chariot of Rhesus out of the way, or carry it on his shoulders to a\nplace of safety.\n\n[Meges, son of Phyleus.]\n\nThis whole passage is considered by critics as very beautiful. It\ndescribes the hero carried by an enthusiastic valor into the midst of\nhis enemies, and mingling in the ranks indiscriminately. The simile\nthoroughly illustrates this fury, proceeding as it did from an\nextraordinary infusion of courage from Heaven.\n\n[Apollo.]\n\nThe deities are often invoked because of the agency ascribed to them\nand not from any particular religious usage. And just as often the\nheroes are protected by the gods who are worshipped by their own tribes\nand families\u2014Muller.\n\nThis fiction of Homer, says Dacier, is founded upon an important truth\nof religion, not unknown to the Pagans: viz. that God only can open the\neyes of men, and enable them to see what they cannot otherwise\ndiscover. The Old Testament furnishes examples. God opens the eyes of\nHagar, that she may see the fountain. \u201cThe Lord opened the eyes of\nBaalam, and he saw the angel,\u201d etc. This power of sight was given to\nDiomede only for the present occasion. In the 6th Book, on meeting\nGlaucus, he is ignorant whether he is a god, a hero, or a man.\n\n[Or collar-bone.]\n\nThe belief of those times, in regard to the peace and happiness of the\nsoul after death, made the protection of the body a matter of great\nimportance. For a full account of these rites, see the articles Charon\nand Pluto, Gr. & Rom. Mythology.\n\nThe physician of the gods. Homer says nothing of his origin. He seems\nto be considered as distinct from Apollo, though perhaps originally\nidentical with him.\n\nFrom the fact that so few mystical myths are introduced in the Iliad,\nM\u00fcller infers that the mystical element of religion could not have\npredominated among the Grecian people for whom Homer sang. Otherwise,\nhis poems in which that element is but little regarded, would not have\nafforded universal pleasure and satisfaction. He therefore takes but a\npassing notice of Demeter. M\u00fcller also remarks, that in this we cannot\nbut admire the artistic skill of Homer, and the feeling for what is\nright and fitting that was innate with the Greeks.\n\n[Vide Samson to Harapha in the Agonistes. There the word is used in the\nsame sense.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[This is a construction of \u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba \u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 given by some of the best\ncommentators, and that seems the most probable.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThis slow and orderly retreat of the Greeks, with their front\nconstantly turned to the enemy, is a fine encomium on their courage and\ndiscipline. This manner of retreating was customary among the\nLaced\u00e6monians, as were many other martial customs described by Homer.\nThe practice arose from the apprehension of being killed by a wound in\nthe back, which was not only punished with infamy, but a person bearing\nthe mark was denied the rites of burial.\n\n[This, according to Porphyrius as quoted by Clarke, is the true meaning\nof \u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03c4\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe chariots of the gods were formed of various metals, and drawn\nthrough the air, or upon the surface of the sea, by horses of celestial\nbreed. These chariots were used by the deities only on occasion of a\nlong journey, or when they wished to appear with state and\nmagnificence. Ordinarily they were transported from place to place by\nthe aid of their golden sandals, with the exception of the\n\u201csilver-footed Thetis,\u201d to whom they seem to have been superfluous.\nWhen at home, the gods were barefoot, according to the custom of the\nage, as we see from various representations of antique art.\n\n[These which I have called crescents, were a kind of hook of a\nsemicircular form, to which the reins were occasionally fastened.\u2014Tr.]\n\nThe Greeks borrowed the vest and shield of Minerva from the Lybians,\nonly with this difference: the Lybian shield was fringed with thongs of\nleather, and the Grecian with serpents.\u2014Herodotus.\n\nThis expression (the gates of Heaven) is in the eastern manner, and\ncommon in the Scriptures.\n\n[\u0391\u03c1\u03b5\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5.]\n\nEvery thing that enters the dark empire of Hades disappears, and is\nseen no more; hence the figurative expression, to put on Pluto\u2019s\nhelmet; that is to become invisible.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book VI:\n\n\nThe Simo\u00efs and Xanthus were two rivers of the Troad, which form a\njunction before they reached the Hellespont. The Simo\u00efs rose in Mt.\nIda, and the Xanthus had its origin near Troy.\u2014Felton.\n\nAjax commences his exploits immediately on the departure of the gods\nfrom the battle. It is observed of this hero, that he is never assisted\nby the deities.\n\nAxylus was distinguished for his hospitality. This trait was\ncharacteristic of the Oriental nations, and is often alluded to by\nancient writers. The rite of hospitality often united families\nbelonging to different and hostile nations, and was even transmitted\nfrom father to son. This description is a fine tribute to the\ngenerosity of Axylus.\u2014Felton\n\n[Euryalus.]\n\nAgamemnon\u2019s taking the life of the Trojan whom Menelaus had pardoned,\nwas according to the custom of the times. The historical books of the\nOld Testament abound in instances of the like cruelty to conquered\nenemies.\n\nThis important maxim of war is very naturally introduced, upon Menelaus\nbeing ready to spare an enemy for the sake of a ransom. According to\nDacier, it was for such lessons as these that Alexander so much\nesteemed Homer and studied his poem.\n\nThe custom of making donations to the gods is found among the ancients,\nfrom the earliest times of which we have any record down to the\nintroduction of Christianity; and even after that period it was\nobserved by the Christians during the middle ages. Its origin seems to\nhave been the same as that of sacrifices: viz. the belief that the gods\nwere susceptible of influence in their conduct towards men. These gifts\nwere sometimes very costly, but often nothing more than locks of hair\ncut from the head of the votary.\n\nDiomede had knowingly wounded and insulted the deities; he therefore\nmet Glaucus with a superstitious fear that he might be some deity in\nhuman shape. This feeling brought to his mind the story of Lycurgus.\n\nIt is said that Lycurgus caused most of the vines of his country to be\nrooted up, so that his subjects were obliged to mix their wine with\nwater, as it became less plentiful. Hence the fable that Thetis\nreceived Bacchus into her bosom.\n\nThis style of language was according to the manners of the times. Thus\nGoliath to David, \u201cApproach, and I will give thy flesh to the fowls of\nthe air and the beasts of the field.\u201d The Orientals still speak in the\nsame manner.\n\nThough this comparison may be justly admired for its beauty in the\nobvious application to the mortality and succession of human life, it\nseems designed by the poet, in this place, as a proper emblem of the\ntransitory state of families which, by their misfortune or folly, have\nfallen and decayed, and again appear, in a happier season, to revive\nand flourish in the fame and virtues of their posterity. In this sense\nit is a direct answer to the question of Diomede, as well as a proper\npreface to what Glaticus relates of his own family, which, having\nbecome extinct in Corinth, recovers new life in Lycia.\n\nThe same as Corinth.\n\nSome suppose that alphabetical writing was unknown in the Homeric age,\nand consequently that these signs must have been hieroglyphical marks.\nThe question is a difficult one, and the most distinguished scholars\nare divided in opinion. We can hardly imagine that a poem of the length\nand general excellence of the Iliad, could be composed without the aid\nof writing; and yet, we are told, there are well-authenticated examples\nof such works being preserved and handed down by traditional memory.\nHowever this may be, we know that the Oriental nations were in\npossession of the art of alphabetical writing it a very early period,\nand before the Trojan war. It cannot, then, seem very improbable, that\nthe authors of the Iliad should also have been acquainted with\nit.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe Solymi were an ancient nation inhabiting the mountainous parts of\nAsia Minor, between Lycia and Pisidia. Pliny mentions them as having\nbecome extinct in his time.\n\nIt was the custom in ancient times, upon the performance of any signal\nservice by kings or great men, for the public to grant them a tract of\nland as a reward. When Sarpedon, in the 12th Book, exhorts Glaucus to\nbehave valiantly, he reminds him of these possessions granted by his\ncountrymen.\n\nThe laws of hospitality were considered so sacred, that a friendship\ncontracted under their observance was preferred to the ties of\nconsanguinity and alliance, and regarded as obligatory even to the\nthird and fourth generation. Diomede and Glaucus here became friends,\non the ground of their grandfathers having been mutual guests. The\npresents made on these occasions were preserved by families, as it was\nconsidered obligatory to transmit them as memorials to their children.\n\n[\u039e\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9.]\n\nThe Sc\u00e6an gate opened to the field of battle, and was the one through\nwhich the Trojans made their excursions. Close to this stood the beech\ntree sacred to Jupiter, and often mentioned in connection with it.\n\nThere is a mournfulness in the interview between the hero and his\nmother which is deeply interesting. Her urging him to take wine and his\nrefusal were natural and simple incidents, which heighten the effect of\nthe scene.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe custom that prohibits persons polluted with blood from performing\nany offices of divine worship before purification, is so ancient and\nuniversal, that it may be considered a precept of natural religion,\ntending to inspire a horror of bloodshed. In Euripides, Iphigenia\nargues the impossibility of human sacrifices being acceptable to the\ngods, since they do not permit any one defiled with blood, or even\npolluted with the touch of a dead body, to come near their altars.\n\nParis surprised the King of Ph\u0153necia by night, and carried off many of\nhis treasures and captives, among whom probably were these Sidonian\nwomen. Tyre and Sidon were famous for works in gold, embroidery, etc.,\nand for whatever pertained to magnificence and luxury.\n\nThis gesture is the only one described by Homer as being used by the\nancients in their invocations of the gods.\n\n[\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c9\u03bd.]\n\nThe employment in which Hector finds Paris engaged, is extremely\ncharacteristic.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis address of Helen is in fine keeping with her character.\u2014Felton.\n\n[The bulk of his heroes is a circumstance of which Homer frequently\nreminds us by the use of the word \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2\u2014and which ought, therefore, by\nno means to be suppressed.\u2014Tr.]\n\nLove of his country is a prominent characteristic of Hector, and is\nhere beautifully displayed in his discharging the duties that the\npublic welfare required, before seeking his wife and child. Then\nfinding that she had gone to the tower, he retraces his steps to \u201cthe\nSc\u00e6an gate, whence he must seek the field.\u201d Here his wife, on her\nreturn home, accidentally meets him.\n\n [The name signifies, the _Chief of the city_.\u2014Tr.]\n\nIt was the custom to plant about tombs only such trees as elms, alders,\netc., that bear no fruit, as being most appropriate to the dead.\n\nIn this recapitulation, Homer acquaints us with some of the great\nachievements of Achilles, which preceded the opening of the poem\u2014a\nhappy manner of exalting his hero, and exciting our expectation as to\nwhat he is yet to accomplish. His greatest enemies never upbraid him,\nbut confess his glory. When Apollo encourages the Trojans to fight, it\nis by telling them Achilles fights no more. When Juno animates the\nGreeks, she reminds them how their enemies fear Achilles; and when\nAndromache trembles for Hector, it is with the remembrance of his\nresistless force.\n\nDrawing water was considered the most servile employment.\n\n[The Scholiast in Villoisson calls it\n\u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1 a natural and moderate laughter.\u2014Tr.]\n\nAccording to the ancient belief, the fatal period of life is appointed\nto all men at the time of their birth, which no precaution can avoid\nand no danger hasten.\n\nThis scene, for true and unaffected pathos, delicate touches of nature,\nand a profound knowledge of the human heart, has rarely been equalled,\nand never surpassed, among all the efforts of genius during the three\nthousand years that have gone by since it was conceived and\ncomposed.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book VII:\n\n\nHolding the spear in this manner was, in ancient warfare, understood as\na signal to discontinue the fight.\n\nThe challenge of Hector and the consternation of the Greeks, presents\nmuch the same scene as the challenge of Goliath, 1 Samuel, ch. 17: \u201cAnd\nhe stood and cried to the armies of Israel;\u2014Choose you a man for you,\nand let him come down to me. If he be able to fight with me, and to\nkill me, then will we be your servants.\u2014When Saul and all Israel heard\nthe words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid.\u201d\n\nIt was an ancient custom for warriors to dedicate trophies of this kind\nto the temples of their tutelary deities.\n\n[The club-bearer.]\n\n[It is a word used by Dryden.]\n\nHomer refers every thing, even the chance of the lots, to the\ndisposition of the gods.\n\n[Agamemnon.]\n\nThe lot was merely a piece of wood or shell, or any thing of the kind\nthat was at hand. Probably it had some private mark, and not the name,\nas it was only recognized by the owner.\n\nThis reply is supposed to allude to some gesture made by Ajax in\napproaching Hector.\n\nThe heralds were considered as sacred persons, the delegates of\nMercury, and inviolable by the laws of nations. Ancient history\nfurnishes examples of the severity exercised upon those who were guilty\nof any outrage upon them. Their office was, to assist in the sacrifices\nand councils, to proclaim war or peace, to command silence at\nceremonies or single combats, to part the combatants and declare the\nconqueror.\n\nThis word I have taken leave to coin. The Latins have both substantive\nand adjective. _Purpura\u2014Purpureus._ We make purple serve both uses; but\nit seems a poverty to which we have no need to submit, at least in\npoetry.\u2014Tr.\n\nA particular mark of honor and respect, as this part of the victim\nbelonged to the king. In the simplicity of the times, the reward\noffered a victorious warrior of the best portion of the sacrifice at\nsupper, a more capacious bowl, or an upper seat at table, was a\nrecompense for the greatest actions.\nIt is worthy of observation, that beef, mutton, or kid, was the food of\nthe heroes of Homer and the patriarchs and warriors of the Old\nTestament. Fishing and fowling were then the arts of more luxurious\nnations.\n\n[The word is here used in the Latin sense of it. Virgil, describing the\nentertainment given by Evander to the Trojans, says that he regaled\nthem\n\nPerpetui _tergo bovis et lustralibus extis._\n\u00c6n. viii.\n\nIt means, the whole.\u2014Tr.]\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book VIII:\n\n\nAn epithet of Aurora, supposed to designate an early hour.\n\nMany have explained this as an allegorical expression for one of the\ngreat laws of nature\u2014gravity or the attraction of the sun. There is not\nthe slightest probability that any such meaning is intended.\u2014Felton.\n\nA part of Mt. Ida. This place was celebrated, in subsequent times, for\nthe worship of Jupiter. Several years ago, Dr. E.D. Clarke deposited,\nin the vestibule of the public library in Cambridge, England, a marble\nbust of Juno, taken from the ruins of this temple of Jupiter, at the\nbase of Mt. Ida.\u2014Felton\n\n[In the repetition of this expression, the translator follows the\noriginal.]\n\nSacred, because that part of the day was appropriate to sacrifice and\nreligious worship.\n\nThis figure is first used in the Scriptures. Job prays to be weighed in\nan even balance, that God may know his integrity. Daniel says to\nBelshazzar, \u201cthou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting,\u201d etc.\n\nJupiter\u2019s declaring against the Greeks by thunder and lightning, is\ndrawn (says Dacier) from truth itself. 1 Sam. ch. vii.: \u201cAnd as Samuel\nwas offering up the burnt-offering, the Philistines drew near to battle\nagainst Israel; but the Lord thundered on that day upon the Philistines\nand discomfited them.\u201d\n\nNothing can be more spirited than the enthusiasm of Hector, who, in the\ntransport of his joy, breaks out in the following apostrophe to his\nhorses. He has, in imagination, already forced the Grecian\nentrenchments, set the fleet in flames, and destroyed the whole army.\n\nFrom this speech, it may be gathered that women were accustomed to\nloosen the horses from the chariot, on their return from battle, and\nfeed them; and from line 214, unless it is spurious, it seems that the\nprovender was sometimes mixed with wine. It is most probable, however,\nthat the line is not genuine.\u2014Felton.\n\nHomer describes a princess so tender in her love to her husband, that\nshe meets him on his return from every battle, and, in the joy of\nseeing him again, feeds his horses with bread and wine, as an\nacknowledgment to them for bringing him back.\u2014Dacier.\n\nThese were the arms that Diomede had received from Glaucus.\n\n[None daring to keep the field, and all striving to enter the gates\ntogether, they obstructed their own passage, and were, of course,\ncompelled into the narrow interval between the foss and rampart.\n\nBut there are different opinions about the space intended. See\nVilloisson.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[To Jove, the source of all oracular information.]\n\nJupiter, in answer to the prayer of Agamemnon, sends an omen to\nencourage the Greeks. The application of it is obvious: The eagle\nsignified Hector, the fawn denoted the fear and flight of the Greeks,\nand being dropped at the altar of Jupiter, indicated that they would be\nsaved by the protection of that god.\n\nThis simile is very beautiful, and exactly represents the manner of\nGorgythion\u2019s death. There is so much truth in the comparison, that we\npity the fall of the youth and almost feel his wound.\n\n[\u0395\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd.\u2014The word is here metaphorical, and expresses, in its primary\nuse, the breaking of a spear against a shield.\u2014Tr.]\n\n[The following lines, to the end of this paragraph, are a translation\nof some which Barnes has here inserted from the second Alcibiades of\nPlato.]\n\nThe simile is the most magnificent that can be conceived. The stars\ncome forth brightly, the whole heaven is cloudless and serene, the moon\nis in the sky, the heights, and promontories, and forests stand forth\ndistinctly in the light, _and the shepherd rejoices in his heart_. This\nlast simple and natural circumstance is inexpressibly beautiful, and\nheightens the effect of the visible scene, by associating it, in the\nmost direct and poetical manner, with the inward emotion that such a\nscene must produce.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book IX:\n\n\n[In the original the word is\u2014\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03c5\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\u2014dark-watered; and it is\nrendered\u2014_deep_\u2014by the best interpreters, because deep waters have a\nblackish appearance. \u0394\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c5\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1 is properly water that runs with\nrapidity; water\u2014\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThis is the language of a brave man, boldly to affirm that courage is\nabove crowns and sceptres. In former times they were not hereditary,\nbut the recompense of valor.\n\n[The observation seems made with a view to prevent such a reply from\nAgamemnon to Diomede as might give birth to new dissensions, while it\nreminds him indirectly of the mischiefs that had already attended his\nquarrel with Achilles.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThis speech of Nestor is happily conceived. It belonged to him as the\naged counsellor to begin the debate, by laying the subject before the\nassembly, especially as it was necessary to impale the blame of the\npresent unfortunate condition of the army to Agamemnon. It would have\nbeen presumptuous in any other, and it was a matter of difficulty and\ndelicacy even for Nestor.\u2014Felton.\n\nIn the heroic age, the bridegroom, before marriage, was obliged to make\ntwo presents, one to his betrothed wife, and one to his father-in-law.\nThis was also an ancient custom of the Hebrews. Abraham\u2019s servant gave\npresents to Rebekah: Gen. xxiv. 22. Shechem promised a dowry and gift\nto Jacob for his daughter: Gen. xxiv. 12. And in after times, Saul said\nhe desired no dowry for Michal: 1 Sam. xviii. 25.\n\nOne of the religious ceremonies previous to any important enterprise.\nThen followed the order for silence and reverent attention; then the\nlibation, &c.\u2014Felton\n\n Achilles having retired from action in displeasure to Agamemnon,\n quieted himself by singing to his lyre the achievements of demi-gods\n and heroes. Nothing was better suited to the martial disposition of\n this hero, than these heroic songs. Celebrating the actions of the\n valiant prepared him for his own great exploits. Such was the music of\n the ancients, and to such purposes was it applied. When the lyre of\n Paris was offered to Alexander, he replied that he had little value\n for it, but much desired that of Achilles, on which he sung the\n actions of heroes in former times.\u2014Plutarch.\n\nThe manners of the Iliad are the manners of the patriarchal and early\nages of the East. The chief differences arise from a different religion\nand a more maritime situation. Very far removed from the savage state\non the one hand, and equally distant from the artificial state of an\nextended commerce and a manufacturing population on the other, the\nspirit and habitudes of the two modes of society are almost identical.\nThe hero and the Patriarch are substantially co\u00ebval; but the first\nwanders in twilight, the last stands in the eye of Heaven. When three\nmen appeared to Abraham in the plains of Mamre, he ran to meet them\nfrom the tent door, brought them in, directed Sarah to make bread,\nfetched from the herd himself a calf tender and good, dressed it, and\nset it before them. When Ajax, Ulysses, and Ph\u0153nix stand before\nAchilles, he rushes forth to greet them, brings them into the tent,\ndirects Patroclus to mix the wine, cuts up the meat, dresses it, and\nsets it before the ambassadors.  *  *  *  *\n\nInstances of this sort might be multiplied to any extent, but the\nstudent will find it a pleasing and useful task to discover them for\nhimself; and these will amply suffice to demonstrate the existence of\nthat correspondence of spirit and manners between the Homeric and the\nearly ages of the Bible history, to which I have adverted. It is real\nand important; it affords a standard of the feelings with which we\nought to read the Iliad, if we mean to read it as it deserves; and it\nexplains and sets in the true point of view numberless passages, which\nthe ignorance or frivolity of after-times has charged with obscurity,\nmeanness or error. The Old Testament and the Iliad reflect light\nmutually on each other; and both in respect of poetry and morals (for\nthe whole of Homer\u2019s poetry is a praise of virtue, and every thing in\nhim tends to this point, except that which is merely superfluous and\nfor ornament) it may with great truth be said, that he who has the\nlongest studied, and the most deeply imbibed, the spirit of the Hebrew\nBible, will the best understand and the most lastingly appreciate the\ntale of Troy divine.\u2014H.N. Coleridge.\n\n[I have given this sense to the word\n\u0396\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u2014on the authority of the Venetian Scholium, though some\ncontend that it should be translated\u2014_quickly_. Achilles, who had\nreproached Agamemnon with intemperate drinking, was, himself, more\naddicted to music than to wine.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[It is not without authority that I have thus rendered\n\u03ba\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1. Homer\u2019s banquets are never stewed or boiled; it cannot\ntherefore signify a kettle. It was probably a kitchen-table, dresser,\nor tray, on which the meat was prepared for the spit. Accordingly we\nfind that this very meat was spitted afterward.\u2014See\nSchaufelbergerus.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThere are no speeches in the Iliad better placed, better timed, or that\ngive a greater idea of Homer\u2019s genius than these of the ambassadors to\nAchilles. They are not only demanded by the occasion, but skilfully\narranged, and in a manner that gives pleasure to the reader.\n\n[Dacier observes, that he pluralizes the one wife of Menelaus, through\nthe impetuosity of his spirit.]\u2014Tr.\n\nAccording to some ancient writers, Achilles was but twelve years of age\nwhen he went to the wars of Troy. And from what is here related of his\neducation under Ph\u0153nix, it may be inferred, that the fable of his\nhaving been taught by Chiron is an invention of a later age and unknown\nto Homer.\n\nThe ancients gave the name of Jupiter not only to the God of heaven,\nbut also to the God of hell, as is seen here; and to the God of the\nsea, as appears from \u00c6schylus. They meant thereby to show that one sole\ndeity governed the world. To teach this truth, statues were made of\nJupiter which had three eyes. Priam had one in the court of his palace,\nwhich, in sharing the booty of the war of Troy, fell to the lot of\nSthenelus, who carried it to Greece.\u2014Dacier.\n\nSo called because Jove protects those who implore his aid.\n\n[Wrinkled\u2014because the countenance of a man driven to prayer by a\nconsciousness of guilt is sorrowful and dejected. Lame\u2014because it is a\nremedy to which men recur late, and with reluctance. And\nslant-eyed\u2014either because, in that state of humiliation they fear to\nlift their eyes to heaven, or are employed in taking a retrospect of\ntheir past misconduct.\n\nThe whole allegory, considering _when_ and _where_ it was composed,\nforms a very striking passage.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[She had five brothers: Iphiclus, Polyphontes, Phanes, Eurypylus,\nPlexippus.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIt was the custom for the murderer to go into banishment for one year.\nBut if the relations of the murdered person were willing, the criminal,\nby paying a certain fine, might buy off the exile and remain at home.\nAjax sums up this argument with great strength: We see, says he, a\nbrother forgive the murder of his brother, a father that of his son;\nbut Achilles will not forgive the injury offered him by taking away one\ncaptive woman.\n\nThe character of Achilles is well sustained in all his speeches. To\nUlysses he returns a flat denial, and threatens to leave the Trojan\nshore in the morning. To Ph\u0153nix his answer is more gentle. After Ajax\nhas spoken, he seems determined not to depart, but yet refuses to bear\narms, except in defence of his own squadron.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book X:\n\n\nWith slight alteration, Homer here repeats the verses that open the 2d\nBook, and ascribes to Agamemnon the same watchfulness over men that\nJupiter had over the gods.\n\nMenelaus starts a design, which is afterwards proposed by Nestor in\ncouncil. The poet knew that the project would come with greater weight\nfrom the age of the one than from the youth of the other, and that the\nvaliant would be ready to engage in the enterprise suggested by so\nvenerable a counsellor.\n\nAgamemnon is uniformly represented as an example of brotherly\naffection, and at all times defends Menelaus.\n\n[\u03a3\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u2014seems to have been a hollow iron with a point, fitted to the\nobtuse end of the spear, for the purpose of planting that end of it in\nthe ground. It might probably be taken off at pleasure.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe dogs represent the watch, the flocks the Greeks, the fold their\ncamp, and the wild beast that invades them, Hector. The place,\nposition, and circumstances are represented with the utmost life and\nnature.\n\n[_Sable_, because the expedition was made by night, and _each with a\nlamb_, as typical of the fruit of their labors.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIt required some address in Diomede to make a choice without offending\nthe Grecian princes, each one of whom might consider it an indignity to\nbe refused such a place of honor. Diomede, therefore, chose Ulysses,\nnot for his valor, but for his wisdom. On this point, the other leaders\nall yielded to him.\n\nThe heroes are well armed for their design. Ulysses has a bow and\narrows, that he may be able to wound the enemy at a distance, and\nDiomede a two-edged sword. They both have leathern helmets, as the\nglittering of the metal might betray them to the enemy.\n\n[Autolycus was grandfather of Ulysses by the mother\u2019s side.]\u2014Tr.\n\nMaking these military presents to brave adventurers was an ancient\ncustom. \u201cJonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and\ngave it to David; and his garments, even to his sword, and his bow, and\nhis girdle.\u201d 1 Sam. xviii. v.\n\nThese lines show how careful the poet always was to be true to nature.\nThe little circumstance that they could not _see_ the heron, but only\nheard him, stamps the description with an air of verisimilitude which\nis at once recognized.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis passage sufficiently justifies Diomede for his choice of Ulysses.\nDiomede, who was most renowned for valor, might have given a wrong\ninterpretation to this omen, and have been discouraged from proceeding\nin the attempt. For though it really signified that, as the bird was\nnot seen, but only heard, so they should not be discovered by the\nTrojans, but perform actions of which all Troy should hear with sorrow;\nyet, on the other hand, it might imply that, as they discovered the\nbird by the noise of its wings, so the noise they should make would\nbetray them to the Trojans. Pallas does not send the bird sacred to\nherself, but the heron, because that is a bird of prey, and denoted\nthat they should spoil the Trojans.\n\nDolon seems to have been eminent for wealth, and Hector summons him to\nthe assembly as one of the chiefs of Troy. He was known to the Greeks,\nperhaps, from his having passed between the two armies as a herald.\nAncient writers observe, that it was the office of Dolon that led him\nto offer himself in this service. The sacredness attached to it gave\nhim hopes that they would not violate his person, should he chance to\nbe taken; and his riches he knew were sufficient to purchase his\nliberty. Besides these advantages, he probably trusted to his swiftness\nto escape pursuit.\n\nEustathius remarks upon the different manner in which the Grecians and\nTrojans conduct the same enterprise. In the council of the Greeks, a\nwise old man proposes the adventure with an air of deference; in that\nof the Trojans, a brave young man with an air of authority. The one\npromises a small gift, but honorable and certain; the other a great\none, but uncertain and less honorable, because it is given as a reward.\nDiomede and Ulysses are inspired with a love of glory; Dolon with the\nthirst of gain. They proceed with caution and bravery; he with rashness\nand vanity. They go in conjunction; he alone. They cross the fields out\nof the road, he follows the common track. In all this there is an\nadmirable contrast, and a moral that strikes every reader at first\nsight.\n\n[Commentators are extremely in the dark, and even Aristarchus seems to\nhave attempted an explanation in vain. The translator does not pretend\nto have ascertained the distance intended, but only to have given a\ndistance suited to the occasion.]\u2014Tr.\n\nUlysses makes no promise of life, but artfully bids Dolon, who is\noverpowered by fear, not to think of death. He was so cautious as not\nto believe a friend just before without an oath, but he trusts an enemy\nwithout even a promise.\n\n['\u039f\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03a4\u03c1\u03c9\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u2014As many as are owners of hearths\u2014that\nis to say, all who are householders here, or natives of the city.]\u2014Tr\n\nIt seems barbarous in Diomede thus to have killed Dolon, but Eustathius\nobserves that it was necessary to their success, as his cries might\nhave put the Trojans on their guard.\n\nAn allegorical manner of saying that they were awakened by the morning\nlight.\n\n[Homer did not here forget himself, though some have altered\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b9\u03bf \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.\u2014Rhesus for distinction sake is not numbered\nwith his people\u2014See Villoisson _in loco_.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XI:\n\n\nCynyras was king of Cyprus, and this probably alludes to some\nhistorical fact. Cyprus was famous for its minerals.\n\n[\u03a4\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b8'\u2014three on a side, This is evidently the proper\npunctuation, though it differs from that of all the editions that I\nhave seen. I find it no where but in the _Venetian Scholium_.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIt is finely remarked by Trollope, that, of all the points of\nresemblance which may be discovered between the sentiments,\nassociations and expressions of Homer, and those of the sacred\nwritings, this similitude is perhaps the most striking; and there can\nbe little doubt that it exhibits a traditional vestige of the\npatriarchal record of God\u2019s covenant.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Qu\u00e2tre-crested. So I have rendered\n\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd which literally signifies having four cones. The cone was\na tube into which the crest was inserted. The word qu\u00e2tre-crested may\nneed a precedent for its justification, and seems to have a sufficient\none in the cinque-spotted cowslip of Shakspeare.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[This seems the proper import of\n\u03b5\u03b3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c0\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd. Jupiter is called\n\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The translator follows Clarke in this interpretation of a passage to\nus not very intelligible.]\n\nThe ancient manner of mowing and reaping was, for the laborers to\ndivide in two parties, and to begin at each end of the field, which was\nequally divided, and proceed till they met in the middle of it.\n\nTime was then measured by the progression of the sun, and the parts of\nthe day were distinguished by the various employments.\n\n[\u03bf\u03bb\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2.]\n\n[The Grecians at large are indiscriminately called Dana\u00ef, Argives, and\nAchaians, in the original. The Phthians in particular\u2014Hellenes. They\nwere the troops of Achilles.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u0391\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c6\u03b5\u03c2\u2014literally\u2014wind-nourished.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIn making Ulysses direct Diomede, Homer intends to show that valor\nshould be under the guidance of wisdom. In the 8th Book, when Diomede\ncould hardly be restrained by the thunder of Jupiter, his valor is\nchecked by the wisdom of Nestor.\n\nDiomede does not fear Hector, but Jupiter, who, he has previously said,\nwill give the Trojans the day.\n\n[In the original\u2014\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b1\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03b5.\u2014All that I pretend to know of this\nexpression is that it is ironical, and may relate either to the\nhead-dress of Paris, or to his archership. To translate it is\nimpossible; to paraphrase it, in a passage of so much emotion, would be\nabsurd. I have endeavored to supply its place by an appellation in\npoint of contempt equal.]\u2014Tr.\n\nNo moral is so evident throughout the Iliad, as the dependence of man\nupon divine assistance and protection. Apollo saves Hector from the\ndart, and Minerva Ulysses.\n\nHomer here pays a marked distinction. The army had seen several of\ntheir bravest heroes wounded, yet without expressing as much concern as\nat the danger of Machaon, their physician and surgeon.\n\n[This interpretation of\u2014\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c7\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\u2014is taken from the\nScholium by Villoisson. It differs from those of Clarke, Eustathius,\nand another Scholiast quoted by Clarke, but seems to suit the context\nmuch better than either.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe address of Homer in bringing off Ajax is admirable. He makes Hector\nafraid to approach him, and brings down Jupiter to terrify him. Thus he\nretreats, not from a mortal, but from a God.\n\nThe whole passage is inimitably just and beautiful. We see Ajax slowly\nretreating between two armies, and even with a look repulse the one and\nprotect the other. Every line resembles Ajax. The character of a\nstubborn and undaunted warrior is perfectly maintained. He compares him\nfirst to the lion for his undaunted spirit in fighting, and then to the\nass for his stubborn slowness in retreating. In the latter comparison\nthere are many points of resemblance that enliven the image. The havoc\nhe makes in the field is represented by the tearing and trampling down\nthe harvests; and we see the bulk, strength, and obstinancy of the\nhero, when the Trojans, in respect to him, are compared to the troops\nof boys that impotently endeavor to drive him away.\n\nIt must be borne in mind that among the people of the East, an ass was\na beast upon which kings and princes might ride with dignity.\n\nThough the resentment of Achilles would not permit him to be an actor\nin the field, yet his love of war inclines him to be a spectator. As\nthe poet did not intend to draw the character of a perfect man in\nAchilles, he makes him delighted with the destruction of the Greeks,\nbecause it gratified his revenge. That resentment which is the subject\nof the poem, still presides over every other feeling, even the love of\nhis country. He begins now to pity his countrymen, yet he seems\ngratified by their distress, because it will contribute to his glory.\n\nThis onion was very different from the root which now passes under that\nname. It had a sweet flavor, and was used to impart an agreeable flavor\nto wine. It is in high repute at the present day in Egypt.\u2014Felton.\n\n[I have interpreted the very ambiguous words\n\u03bf\u03c5\u03c9 \u03b4' \u03c5\u03c0\u03bf \u03c0\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd according to Athen\u00e6us as quoted by Clarke, and\nhis interpretation of them is confirmed by the Scholium in the Venetian\nedition of the Iliad, lately published by Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nHomer here reminds the reader, that Nestor belonged to a former\ngeneration of men, who were stronger than the heroes of the war.\n\n[It would have suited the dignity of Agamemnon\u2019s rank to have mentioned\n_his_ wound first; but Nestor making this recital to the _friend of\nAchilles_, names him slightly, and without any addition.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[It is said that the Thebans having war with the people of Orchomenos,\nthe Pylians assisted the latter, for which cause Hercules destroyed\ntheir city.\u2014See Scholium per Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XII:\n\n\n[The word is of scripture use; see Gen. ch. xxx. where it describes the\ncattle of Jacob.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Alluding to the message delivered to him from Jupiter by Iris.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe morality of the Iliad deserves particular attention. It is not\n_perfect_, upon Christian principles. How should it be under the\ncircumstances of the composition of the poem? Yet, compared with that\nof all the rest of the classical poetry, it is of a transcendently\nnoble and generous character. The answer of Hector to Polydamas, who\nwould have dissuaded a further prosecution of the Trojan success, has\nbeen repeated by many of the most devoted patriots the world ever saw.\n_We_, who defy augury in these matters, can yet add nothing to the\nnobleness of the sentiment.\u2014H.N. Coleridge.\n\n[\u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\u2014This is evidently proverbial, for which\nreason I have given it that air in the translation.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThere is something touching in this simile. Our attention is fixed, not\nso much on the battle, as on the struggles of the laboring,\ntrue-hearted woman, who toils for a hard-earned pittance for her\nchildren. The description is not so much illustrated by the simile, as\nthe simile by the description.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe description of this exploit of Hector is wonderfully imposing. It\nseems to be the poet\u2019s wish to magnify his deeds during the short\nperiod that he has yet to live, both to do justice to the hero of Troy,\nand to give the greater glory to Achilles his conquerer.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XIII:\n\n\nWe are hurried through this book by the warlike ardor of the poet.\nBattle succeeds battle with animating rapidity. The speeches are in\nfine keeping with the scenes, and the similes are drawn from the most\nimposing natural phenomena. The descriptions possess a wonderful\ndistinctness and vigor, presenting the images to the mind by a few bold\nand grand lines, thus shunning the confusion of intricate and minute\ndetail.\u2014Felton.\n\nSo called from their simple diet, consisting principally of mare\u2019s\nmilk. They were a people living on the north-east coast of the Euxine\nSea. These epithets are sometimes supposed to be the _gentile_\ndenominations of the different tribes; but they are all susceptible of\ninterpretation as epithets applied to the Hippemolgi.\u2014Felton.\n\n[For this admirable line the translator is indebted to Mr. Fuseli.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe following simile is considered by critics as one of the finest in\nHomer.\n\n[A fitter occasion to remark on this singular mode of approach in\nbattle, will present itself hereafter.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The bodies of Imbrius and Amphimachus.]\n\n[Amphimachus.]\n\nThis is a noble passage. The difference between the conduct of the\nbrave man and that of the coward is drawn with great vigor and\nbeauty.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Hypsenor.]\n\n[This seems to be he meaning of\u03b5\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9 an expression similar to that\nof Demosthenes in a parallel case\u2014\u03b5\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b5\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd.\u2014See\nSchaufelburgerus.]\u2014Tr\n\n[He is said to have been jealous of him on account of his great\npopularity, and to have discountenanced him, fearing a conspiracy in\nhis favor to the prejudice of his own family.\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The I\u00e4onianans were a distinct people from the Ionians, and according\nto the Scholium, separated from them by a pillar bearing on opposite \nsides the name of each.\u2014See Barnes. See also Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The people of Achilles were properly called the Phthiot\u00e6, whereas the\nPhthians belonged to Protesil\u00e4us and Philoctetes.\u2014See Eustathius, as\nquoted by Clarke.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThis simile is derived from one of the most familiar sights among a\nsimple people. It is extremely natural, and its propriety will be\npeculiarly striking to those who have had occasion to see a yoke of\noxen plowing in a hot day.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Achilles.]\n\n[This, according to Eustathius, is the import of\n\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03b2\u03bf\u03b9.\u2014See Iliad III., in which Priam relates an expedition of his\ninto that country.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XIV:\n\n\nThe beauty of this simile will be lost to those who have never been at\nsea during a calm. The water is then not quite motionless, but swells\ngently in smooth waves, which fluctuate in a balancing motion, until a\nrising wind gives them a certain determination. Every circumstance of\nthe comparison is just, as well as beautiful.\n\nAnointing the body with perfumed oil was a remarkable part of ancient\ncosmetics. It was probably an eastern invention, agreeable to the\nluxury of the Asiatics.\n\nA footstool was considered a mark of honor.\n\nIn accordance with the doctrine of Thales the Milesian, that all things\nare generated from water, and nourished by the same element.\n\n[Hercules.]\n\nNight was venerated, both for her antiquity and power.\n\n[One of the heads of Ida.]\n\nA bird about the size of a hawk, and entirely black.\n\nBy Juno is understood the air, and it is allegorically said that she\nwas nourished by the vapors that rise from the ocean and the earth.\nTethys being the same as Rhea.\n\n[Europa.]\n\nAn evident allusion to the ether and the atmosphere.\u2014E.P.P.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XV:\n\n\n[The translator seizes the opportunity afforded to him by this\nremarkable passage, to assure his readers who are not readers of the\noriginal, that the discipline which Juno is here said to have suffered\nfrom the hands of Jove, is not his own invention. He found it in the\noriginal, and considering fidelity as his indispensable duty, has not\nattempted to soften or to refine away the matter. He begs that this\nobservation may be adverted to as often as any passage shall occur in\nwhich ancient practices or customs, not consonant to our own, either in\npoint of delicacy or humanity, may be either expressed or alluded to.\n\nHe makes this request the rather, because on these occasions Mr. Pope\nhas observed a different conduct, suppressing all such images as he had\nreason to suppose might be offensive.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe earliest form of an oath seems to have been by the elements of\nnature, or rather the deities who preside over them.\u2014Trollope.\n\nIn the following speech, Jupiter discloses the future events of the\nwar.\n\nThe illustration in the following lines is one of the most beautiful in\nHomer. The rapid passage of Juno is compared to the speed of thought,\nby which a traveller revisits in imagination the scenes over which he\nhas passed. No simile could more exalt the power of the\nGoddess.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe picture is strikingly true to nature. The smile upon the lip, and\nfrown upon the brow, express admirably the state of mind in which the\nGoddess must be supposed to have been at this moment.\u2014Felton.\n\n[_To tempest_\u2014\u03ba\u03c5\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd\u2014Milton uses _tempest_ as a verb. Speaking of\nthe fishes, he says\n\n... part, huge of bulk\nWallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait,\n_Tempest_ the ocean.\n\n]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe Furies are said to wait upon men in a double sense; either for\nevil; as upon Orestes after he had killed his mother, or else for their\ngood, as upon elders when they are injured, to protect them and avenge\ntheir wrongs. The ancients considered birth-right as a right divine.\n\n[\u03a4\u03c1\u03c9\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c5\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd \u03b1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b5\u03c2. The translation is literal, and affords\none of many instances in which the Greek and English idiom correspond\nexactly.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Arcesila\u00fcs.]\n\n[This abruptness of transition from the third person to the first,\nfollows the original.]\n\n[The translator hopes that his learned readers will pardon him, if\nsometimes, to avoid an irksome cacophony, he turns brass into steel. In\nfact, arrow had not a point of steel, but a brazen one.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThis sentiment is noble and patriotic. It is in strict keeping with the\ncharacter of Hector, who always appears as his country\u2019s champion, and\nready to die in her defence. Our sympathies go with him; we\ninvoluntarily wish him success, and deplore his misfortune, though we\nadmire the invincible courage of his more fortunate antagonist. His\nactions and sentiments, springing from the simplest feelings of our\nnature, will always command applause, and, under all circumstances, and\nevery form of political existence, will be imitated by the defenders of\ntheir country.\n\nThe speech of Ajax is animating and powerful. It is conceived in the\ntrue spirit of a warrior rousing his followers to make a last effort to\nrepel the enemy.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Meges.]\n\nHector is here represented as an instrument in the hand of Jupiter, to\nbring about the design the God had long ago projected. As his fatal\nhour now approaches, Jove is willing to recompense his early death with\nthis short-lived glory.\n\nIt may be asked what Pallas has to do with the Fates, or what power has\nshe over them?  Homer speaks thus, because Minerva has already resolved\nto deceive Hector and exalt Achilles. Pallas, as the wisdom and\nknowledge of Jove, may be considered as drawing all things to the\ntermination decreed by his councils.\n\n[This termination of the period, so little consonant to the beginning\nof it, follows the original, where it is esteemed by commentators a\ngreat beauty.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XVI:\n\n\n[This translation of\n\u03b4\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd is warranted by the Scholiast, who paraphrases it thus:\n\n\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n_Iliad per Vill._]\n\nThe friendship of Achilles and Patroclus was celebrated by all\nantiquity. It is said in the life of Alexander the Great, that when\nthat prince visited the monuments of the heroes of Troy, and placed a\ncrown upon the tomb of Achilles, his friend Heph\u00e6stion placed another\non that of Patroclus; an intimation of his being to Alexander, what\nPatroclus was to Achilles. It is also said, that Alexander remarked,\n\u201cAchilles was happy indeed, in having had such a friend to love him\nwhen living, and such a poet to celebrate him when dead.\u201d\n\n[\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. A word of incomparable force, and that defies\ntranslation.]\n\nThis charge is in keeping with the ambitious character of Achilles. He\nis unwilling that even his dearest friend should have the honor of\nconquering Hector.\n\nThe picture of the situation of Ajax, exhausted by his efforts, pressed\nby the arms of his assailants and the will of Jupiter, is drawn with\nmuch graphic power.\u2014Felton.\n\nArgus-slayer.\n\nThe mythi which we find in the Iliad respecting Mercury, represent him\nas the god who blessed the land with fertility, which was his attribute\nin the original worship. He is represented as loving the daughter of\nPhthiotian Phylas, the possessor of many herds, and by her had Eudorus\n(or riches) whom the aged Phylas fostered and brought up in his\nhouse\u2014quite a significant local mythus, which is here related, like\nothers in the usual tone of heroic mythology.\u2014Muller.\n\nThis passage is an exact description and perfect ritual of the\nceremonies on these occasions. Achilles, urgent as the case was, would\nnot suffer Patroclus to enter the fight, till he had in the most solemn\nmanner recommended him to the protection of Jupiter.\n\n[Meges.]\n\n[Brother of Antilochus.]\n\n[\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd\u2014is a word which I can find nowhere satisfactorily derived.\nPerhaps it is expressive of great length, and I am the more inclined to\nthat sense of it, because it is the epithet given to the mast on which\nUlysses floated to Charybdis. We must in that case derive it from\n\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1 and \u03bc\u03b7\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 Doric\u00e8, \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2\u2014longitudo.\n\nIn this uncertainty I thought myself free to translate it as I have, by\nthe word\u2014monster.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Apollonius says that the\n\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03b1 \u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1 here means the \u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03b4\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, or vertebr\u00e6 of the neck.\u2014See\nVilloisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n['\u0391\u03bc\u03b9\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c7\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 is a word, according to Clarke, descriptive of their\npeculiar habit. Their corselet, and the mail worn under it, were of a\npiece, and put on together. To them therefore the cincture or belt of\nthe Greeks was unnecessary.]\u2014Tr.\n\nAccording to the history or fable received in Homer\u2019s time, Sarpedon\nwas interred in Lycia. This gave the poet the liberty of making him die\nat Troy, provided that after his death he was carried into Lycia, to\npreserve the fable. In those times, as at this day, princes and persons\nof rank who died abroad, were carried to their own country to be laid\nin the tomb of their fathers. Jacob, when dying in Egypt, desired his\nchildren to carry him to the land of Canaan, where he wished to be\nburied.\n\n[Sarpedon certainly was not slain _in the fleet_, neither can the Greek\nexpression \u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9 be with propriety interpreted\u2014_in certamine de\nnavibus_\u2014as Clarke and Mme. Dacier are inclined to render it. _Juvenum\nin certamine_, seems equally an improbable sense of it. Eustathius,\nindeed, and Terrasson, supposing Sarpedon to assert that he dies in the\nmiddle of the fleet (which was false in fact) are kind enough to\nvindicate Homer by pleading in his favor, that Sarpedon, being in the\narticle of death, was delirious, and knew not, in reality, where he\ndied. But Homer, however he may have been charged with now and then a\nnap (a crime of which I am persuaded he is never guilty) certainly does\nnot slumber here, nor needs to be so defended. '\u0391\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd in the 23d Iliad,\nmeans the _whole extensive area_ in which the games were exhibited, and\nmay therefore here, without any strain of the expression, be understood\nto signify the _whole range of shore_ on which the ships were\nstationed. In which case Sarpedon represents the matter as it was,\nsaying that he dies\u2014\u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u2014that is, in the neighborhood of the\nships, and in full prospect of them.\n\nThe translator assumes not to himself the honor of this judicious\nremark. It belongs to Mr. Fuseli.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b7\u03c1.]\n\nThe clouds of thick dust that rise from beneath the feet of the\ncombatants, which hinder them from knowing one another.\n\n[\u03a5\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03b9\u03b2\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. A similar expression occurs in Book xiii., 158.\nThere we read \u03c5\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b9\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd. Which is explained by the Scholiast\nin Villoisson to signify\u2014advancing with quick, short steps, and at the\nsame time covering the feet with a shield. A practice which, unless\nthey bore the\n\u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03c3\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1, must necessarily leave the upper parts exposed.\n\nIt is not improbable, though the translation is not accommodated to\nthat conjecture, that \u00c6neas, in his following speech to Meriones, calls\nhim,\n\u03bf\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd, with a view to the agility with which he performed this\nparticular step in battle.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Two lines occurring here in the original which contain only the same\nmatter as the two preceding, and which are found neither in the MSS.\nuse by Barnes nor in the Harleian, the translator has omitted them in\nhis version as interpolated and superfluous.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u0399\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u2014_Voluntatem Jovis cui cedendum_\u2014So it is interpreted is\nthe Scholium MSS. Lipsiensis.\u2014Vide Schaufelbergerus.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIt is an opinion of great antiquity, that when the soul is on the point\nof leaving the body, its views become stronger and clearer, and the\nmind is endowed with a spirit of true prediction.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XVII:\n\n\nIn the chase, the spoils of the prey, the hide and head of the animal,\nbelonged to the one who gave the first wound. So in war\u2014the one who\nfirst pierced an enemy slain in battle, was entitled to his armor.\n\n[The expediency and utility of prayer, Homer misses no opportunity of\nenforcing. Cold and comfortless as the religious creed of the heathens\nwas, they were piously attentive to its dictates, and to a degree that\nmay serve as a reproof to many professed believers of revelation. The\nallegorical history of prayer, given us in the 9th Book of the Iliad\nfrom the lips of Ph\u0153nix, the speech of Antilochus in the 23d, in which\nhe ascribes the ill success of Eumelus in the chariot race to his\nneglect of prayer, and that of Pisistratus in the 3d book of the\nOdyssey, where speaking of the newly-arrived Telemachus, he says;\n\nFor I deem\n Him wont to pray; since all of every land\n Need succor from the Gods;\n\nare so many proofs of the truth of this remark; to which a curious\nreader might easily add a multitude.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[There is no word in our language expressive of loud sound at all\ncomparable in effect to the Greek _Bo-o-osin_. I have therefore\nendeavored by the juxta-position of two words similar in sound, to\npalliate in some degree defect which it was not in my power to\ncure.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Or collar-bone.]\n\n[The proper meaning of\n\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u2014is not simply _looking on_, but _providing against_. And\nthus their ignorance of the death of Patroclus is accounted for. They\nwere ordered by Nestor to a post in which they should have little to do\nthemselves, except to superintend others, and were consequently too\nremote from Patroclus to see him fall, or even to hear that he had\nfallen.\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThis is one of the similes of Homer which illustrates the manners and\ncustoms of his age. The mode of preparing hides for use is particularly\ndescribed. They were first softened with oil, and then were stretched\nevery direction by the hands of men, so that the moisture might be\nremoved and the oil might penetrate them. Considered in the single\npoint of comparison intended, it gives a lively picture of the struggle\non all sides to get possession of the body.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis is the proper imperfect of the verb _chide_, though modern usage\nhas substituted _chid_, a word of mean and awkward sound, in the place\nof it.\n\nThis alludes to the custom of placing columns upon tombs, on which were\nfrequently represented chariots with two or four horses. The horses\nstanding still to mourn for their master, could not be more finely\nrepresented than by the dumb sorrow of images standing over a tomb.\nPerhaps the very posture in which these horses are described, their\nheads bowed down, and their manes falling in the dust, has an allusion\nto the attitude in which those statues on monuments were usually\nrepresented; there are bas-reliefs that favor this conjecture.\n\n[The Latin plural of Ajax is sometimes necessary, because the English\nplural\u2014Ajaxes\u2014would be insupportable.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Le\u00eftus was another chief of the B\u0153otians.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u0394\u03b9\u03c6\u03c1\u03c9 \u03b5\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\u2014Yet we learn soon after that he fought on foot. But\nthe Scholiast explains the expression thus\u2014\u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03c6\u03c9\u03c9 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\nThe fact was that Idomeneus had left the camp on foot, and was on foot\nwhen Hector prepared to throw at him. But C\u0153ranus, charioteer of\nMeriones, observing his danger, drove instantly to his aid. Idomeneus\nhad just time to mount, and the spear designed for him, struck\nC\u0153ranus.\u2014For a right understanding of this very intricate and difficult\npassage, I am altogether indebted to the Scholiast as quoted by\nVilloisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The translator here follows the interpretation preferred by the\nScholiast. The original expression is ambiguous, and may signify,\neither, that _we shall perish in the fleet ourselves_, or that Hector\nwill soon be in the midst of it. Vide Villoisson _in loco_.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[A noble instance of the heroism of Ajax, who asks not deliverance from\nthe Trojans, or that he may escape alive, but light only, without which\nbe could not possibly distinguish himself. The tears of such a warrior,\nand shed for such a reason, are singularly affecting.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XVIII:\n\n\nThis speech of Antilochus may serve as a model for its brevity.\n\nThis form of manifesting grief is frequently alluded to in the\nclassical writers, and sometimes in the Bible. The lamentation of\nAchilles is in the spirit of the heroic times, and the poet describes\nit with much simplicity. The captives join in the lamentation, perhaps\nin the recollection of his gentleness, which has before been alluded\nto.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Here it is that the drift of the whole poem is fulfilled. The evils\nconsequent on the quarrel between him and Agamemnon, at last teach\nAchilles himself this wisdom\u2014that wrath and strife are criminal and\npernicious; and the confession is extorted from his own lips, that the\nlesson may be the more powerfully inculcated. To point the instruction\nto leaders of armies only, is to narrow its operation unnecessarily.\nThe moral is of universal application, and the poet\u2019s beneficent\nintentions are wronged by one so partial.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe promise of Thetis to present her son with a suit of armor, was the\nmost artful method of hindering him from putting immediately in\npractice his resolution of fighting, which, with his characteristic\nviolence, he would otherwise have done.\n\n[The sun is said to set with reluctance, because his setting-time was\nnot yet come. Jupiter had promised Hector that he should prevail till\nthe sun should go down, and _sacred darkness cover all_. Juno\ntherefore, impatient to arrest the victor\u2019s progress, and having no\nother means of doing it, shortens the time allotted him.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9.]\n\nThis custom of washing the dead is continued among the Greeks to this\nday, and is performed by the dearest friend or relative. The body is\nthen anointed with a perfume, and covered with linen, exactly in the\nmanner here related.\n\nAmong the Greeks, visitors of rank are still honored in the same\nmanner, by being set apart from the rest of the company, on a high\nseat, with a footstool.\n\n['\u0391\u03bd\u03b5\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5.]\n\nThe description of the shield of Achilles is one of the noblest\npassages in the Iliad. It is elaborated to the highest finish of\npoetry. The verse is beautifully harmonious, and the language as nicely\nchosen and as descriptive as can be conceived. But a still stronger\ninterest belongs to this episode when considered as an exact\nrepresentation of life at a very early period of the world, as it\nundoubtedly was designed by the poet.\n\nIt is certainly a most remarkable passage for the amount of information\nit conveys relative to the state of arts, and the general condition of\nlife at that period. From many intimations in the ancient authors, it\nmay be gathered, that shields were often adorned by deities of figures\nin bas-relief, similar to those here described. In particular, see\n\u00c6schylus in the Seven against Thebes. A close examination of the whole\npassage will lead to many curious inductions and inferences relative to\nthe ancient world, and throw much light upon points which are elsewhere\nleft in great obscurity.\u2014Felton.\n\nMurder was not always punished with death or even banishment. But on\nthe payment of a fine, the criminal was allowed to remain in the city.\n\nLinus was the most ancient name in poetry, the first upon record as\ninventor of verse and measure among the Grecians. There was a solemn\ncustom among the Greeks, of bewailing annually their first poet.\nPausanias informs us, that before the yearly sacrifice to the Muses on\nMount Helicon, the obsequies of Linus were performed, who had a statue\nand altar erected to him in that place. In this passage Homer is\nsupposed to allude to that custom.\n\nSee article Theseus, Gr. and Rom. Mythology.\n\nThere were two kinds of dance\u2014the Pyrrhic, and the common dance; both\nare here introduced. The Pyrrhic, or military, is performed by Youths\nwearing swords, the other by the virgins crowned with garlands. The\nGrecian dance is still performed in this manner in the oriental\nnations. The youths and maidens dance in a ring, beginning slowly; by\ndegrees the music plays in quicker time, till at last they dance with\nthe utmost swiftness; and towards the conclusion, they sing in a\ngeneral chorus.\n\nThe point of comparison is this. When the potter first tries the wheel\nto see \u201cif it will run,\u201d he moves it much faster than when at work.\nThus it illustrates the rapidity of the dance.\u2014Felton.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XIX:\n\n\n[Brave men are great weepers\u2014was a proverbial saying in Greece.\nAccordingly there are few of Homer\u2019s heroes who do not weep plenteously\non occasion. True courage is doubtless compatible with the utmost\nsensibility. See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe fear with which the divine armor filled the Myrmidons, and the\nexaltation of Achilles, the terrible gleam of his eye, and his\nincreased desire for revenge, are highly poetical.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe ancients had a great horror of putrefaction previous to interment.\n\n[Achilles in the first book also summons a council himself, and not as\nwas customary, by a herald. It seems a stroke of character, and\nintended by the poet to express the impetuosity of his spirit, too\nardent for the observance of common forms, and that could trust no one\nfor the dispatch he wanted.]\u2014Tr.\n\n['\u0391\u03c3\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c8\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\u2014Shall be glad to bend their knee, i.e. to sit\nand repose themselves.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03a4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03c5\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd.\u2014He seems to intend the reproaches sounded in his ear\nfrom all quarters, and which he had repeatedly heard before.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[By some call\u2019d Antibia, by others, Nicippe.]\u2014Tr.\n\nIt was unlawful to eat the flesh of victims that were sacrificed in\nconfirmation of oaths. Such were victims of malediction.\n\nNothing can be more natural than the representation of these unhappy\nyoung women; who, weary of captivity, take occasion from every mournful\noccurrence to weep afresh, though in reality little interested in the\nobjects that call forth these expressions of sorrow.\u2014Dacier.\n\nSon of Deidameia, daughter of Lycomedes, in whose house Achilles was\nconcealed at the time when he was led forth to the war.\n\n[We are not warranted in accounting any practice unnatural or absurd,\nmerely because it does not obtain among ourselves. I know not that any\nhistorian has recorded this custom of the Grecians, but that it was a\ncustom among them occasionally to harangue their horses, we may assure\nourselves on the authority of Homer, who would not have introduced such\nspeeches, if they could have appeared as strange to his countrymen as\nthey do to us.]\u2014Tr.\n\nHence it seems, that too great an insight into futurity, or the\nrevelation of more than was expedient, was prevented by the\nFuries.\u2014Trollope.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XX:\n\n\n[This rising ground was five stadia in circumference, and was between\nthe river Simois and a village named Ilicon, in which Paris is said to\nhave decided between the goddesses. It was called Callicolone, being\nthe most conspicuous ground in the neighborhood of the\ncity.\u2014Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Iris is the messenger of the gods on ordinary occasions, Mercury on\nthose of importance. But Themis is now employed, because the affair in\nquestion is a council, and to assemble and dissolve councils is her\npeculiar Province. The return of Achilles is made as magnificent as\npossible. A council in heaven precedes it, and a battle of the gods is\nthe consequence.\u2014Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The readiness of Neptune to obey the summons is particularly noticed,\non account of the resentment he so lately expressed, when commanded by\nJupiter to quit the battle.\u2014Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe description of the battle of the gods is strikingly grand. Jupiter\nthunders in the heavens, Neptune shakes the boundless earth and the\nhigh mountain-tops; Ida rocks on its base, and the city of the Trojans\nand the ships of the Greeks tremble; and Pluto leaps from his throne in\nterror, lest his loathsome dominions should be laid open to mortals and\nimmortals.\u2014Felton.\n\n[The Leleges were a colony of Thessalians, and the first inhabitants of\nthe shores of the Hellespont.]\u2014Tr.\n\nHector was the son of Priam, who descended from Ilus, and \u00c6neas the son\nof Anchises, whose descent was from Assaracus, the brother of Ilus.\n\nThis dialogue between Achilles and \u00c6neas, when on the point of battle,\nas well as several others of a similar description, have been censured\nas improbable and impossible. The true explanation is to be found in\nthe peculiar character of war in the heroic age. A similar passage has\nbeen the subject of remark.\u2014Felton.\n\n[Some commentators, supposing the golden plate the outermost as the\nmost ornamental, have perplexed themselves much with this passage, for\nhow, say they, could two folds be pierced and the spear be stopped by\nthe gold, if the gold lay on the surface? But to avoid the difficulty,\nwe need only suppose that the gold was inserted between the two plates\nof brass and the two of tin; Vulcan, in this particular, having\nattended less to ornament than to security.\n\nSee the Scholiast in Villoisson, who argues at large in favor of this\nopinion.]\u2014Tr.\n\nTmolus was a mountain of Lydia, and Hyda a city of the same country.\nThe Gyg\u00e6an lake was also in Lydia.\n\n[Neptune. So called, either because he was worshiped on Helicon, a\nmountain of B\u0153otia, or from Helice, an island of Achaia, where he had a\ntemple.]\u2014Tr.\nIf the bull bellowed as he was led to the altar, it was considered a\nfavorable omen. Hence the simile.\u2014Felton.\n\n[It is an amiable trait in the character of Hector, that his pity in\nthis instance supercedes his caution, and that at the sight of his\nbrother in circumstances so affecting, he becomes at once inattentive\nto himself and the command of Apollo.]\u2014Tr.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XXI:\n\n\nThe scene is now entirely changed, and the battle diversified with a\nvast variety of imagery and description. It is worthy of notice, that\nthough the whole war of the Iliad was upon the banks of these rivers,\nyet Homer has reserved the machinery of the river-gods to aggrandize\nhis hero in this battle. There is no book in the poem which exhibits\ngreater force of imagination, none in which the inexhaustible invention\nof the poet is more powerfully exerted.\n\nThe swarms of locusts that sometimes invade whole countries in the\nEast, have often been described. It seems that the ancient mode of\nexterminating them was, to kindle a fire, and thus drive them into a\nlake or river. The simile illustrates in the most striking manner the\npanic caused by Achilles.\u2014Felton.\n\nAccording to the Scholiast, Arisba was a city of Thrace, and near to\nthe Hellespont; but according to Eustathius, a city of Troas, inhabited\nby a colony from Mitylene.\n\nIt was an ancient custom to cast living horses into rivers, to honor,\nas it were, the rapidity of their streams.\n\nThis gives us an idea of the superior strength of Achilles. His spear\npierced so deep in the ground, that another hero of great strength\ncould not disengage it, but immediately after, Achilles draws it with\nthe utmost ease.\n\n['\u0391\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c9\u03bd.\u2014The beauty and force of this word are wonderful; I\nhave in vain endeavored to do it justice.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The reason given in the Scholium is, that the surface being hardened\nby the wind, the moisture remains unexhaled from beneath, and has time\nto saturate the roots.\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u0391\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03b4\u03b7\u03bd.]\n\nHomer represents Aphrodite as the protector of \u00c6neas, and in the battle\nof the Trojans, Ares appears in a disadvantageous light; the weakness\nof the goddess, and the brutal confidence of the god are described with\nevident irony. In like manner Diana and the river-god Scamander\nsometimes play a very undignified part. Apollo alone uniformly\nmaintains his dignity.\u2014Muller.\n\nThis is a very beautiful soliloquy of Agenor, such as would naturally\narise in the soul of a brave man going upon a desperate enterprise.\nFrom the conclusion it is evident, that the story of Achilles being\ninvulnerable except in the heel, is an invention of a later age.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XXII:\n\n\nThis simile is very striking. It not only describes the appearance of\nAchilles, but is peculiarly appropriate because the star was supposed\nto be of evil omen, and to bring with it disease and destruction. So\nPriam beholds Achilles, splendid with the divine armor, and the\ndestined slayer of his son.\u2014Felton.\n\nThe usual cruelties practised in the sacking of towns. Isaiah foretells\nto Babylon, that her children shall be dashed in pieces by the Medes.\nDavid says to the same city, \u201cHappy shall he be that taketh and dasheth\nthy little ones against the stones.\u201d\u2014Ps. c22vii. 9.\n\nIt was supposed that venomous serpents were accustomed to eat poisonous\nroots and plants before attacking their victims.\u2014Felton.\n\nThis speech of Hector shows the fluctuation of his mind, with much\ndiscernment on the part of the poet. He breaks out, after having\napparently meditated a return to the city. But the imagined reproaches\nof Polydamas, and the anticipated scorn of the Trojans forbid it. He\nsoliloquizes upon the possibility of coming to terms with Achilles, and\noffering him large concessions; but the character of Achilles precludes\nall hope of reconciliation. It is a fearful crisis with him, and his\nmind wavers, as if presentient of his approaching doom.\u2014Felton.\n\n[The repetition follows the original, and the Scholiast is of opinion\nthat Homer uses it here that he may express more emphatically the\nlength to which such conferences are apt to proceed.\u2014\u0394\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\n\u03c4\u03b7 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03c8\u03b5 \u03b5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[It grew near to the tomb of Ilus.]\n\nThe Scamander ran down the eastern side of Ida, and at the distance of\nthree stadia from Troy, making a subterraneous dip, it passed under the\nwalls and rose again in the form of the two fountains here\ndescribed\u2014from which fountains these rivulets are said to have\nproceeded.\n\nIt was the custom of that age to have cisterns by the side of rivers\nand fountains, to which the women, including the wives and daughters of\nkings and princes, resorted to wash their garments.\n\nSacrifices were offered to the gods upon the hills and mountains, or,\nin the language of scripture, upon the _high places_, for the people\nbelieved that the gods inhabited such eminences.\n\n[The numbers in the original are so constructed as to express the\npainful struggle that characterizes such a dream.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.]\n\nThe whole circumference of ancient Troy is said to have measured sixty\nstadia. A stadium measured one hundred and twenty-five paces.\n\n[The knees of the conqueror were a kind of sanctuary to which the\nvanquished fled for refuge.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The lines of which these three are a translation, are supposed by some\nto have been designed for the \u0395\u03c0\u03b9\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, or song of victory sung by the\nwhole army.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[It was a custom in Thessaly to drag the slayer around the tomb of the\nslain; which custom was first begun by Simon, whose brother being\nkilled by Eurydamas, he thus treated the body of the murderer. Achilles\ntherefore, being a Thessalian, when he thus dishonors Hector, does it\nmerely in compliance with the common practice of his country.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[It is an observation of the Scholiast, that two more affecting\nspectacles cannot be imagined, than Priam struggling to escape into the\nfield, and Andromache to cast herself from the wall; for so he\nunderstands\n\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.]\u2014Tr.\n\nA figurative expression. In the style of the orientals, marrow and\nfatness are taken for whatever is best, most tender, and most\ndelicious.\n\nHomer is in nothing more excellent than in the distinction of\ncharacters, which he maintains throughout the poem. What Andromache\nhere says, cannot be said with propriety by any one but Andromache.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XXIII:\n\n\nAccording to the oriental custom. David mourns in the same manner,\nrefusing to wash or take any repast, and lies upon the earth.\n\n[Bacchus having hospitably entertained Vulcan in the island of Naxos,\none of the Cyclades, received from him a cup as a present; but being\ndriven afterward by Lycurgus into the sea, and kindly protected by\nThetis, he presented her with this work of Vulcan, which she gave to\nAchilles for a receptacle of his bones after death.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The funeral pile was a square of a hundred feet on each side.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe ceremony of cutting off the hair in honor of the dead, was\npractised not only among the Greeks, but among other nations. Ezekiel\ndescribing a great lamentation, says, \u201cThey shall make themselves\nutterly bald for thee.\u201d ch. xxvii. 31. If it was the general custom of\nany country to wear long hair, then the cutting it off was a token of\nsorrow; but if the custom was to wear it short, then letting it grow,\nin neglect, was a sign of mourning.\n\nIt was the custom of the ancients not only to offer their own hair to\nthe river-gods of their country, but also the hair of their children.\nIn Egypt hair was consecrated to the Nile.\n\n[Westering wheel.\u2014Milton.]\n\n[Himself and the Myrmidons.]\n\n[That the body might be the more speedily consumed. The same end was\npromoted by the flagons of oil and honey.]\u2014Tr.\n\nHomer here introduces the gods of the winds in person, and as Iris, or\nthe rainbow, is a sign of winds, they are made to come at her bidding.\n\n[Such it appears to have been in the sequel.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03a6\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u2014a vessel, as Athen\u00e6us describes it, made for the purpose of\nwarming water. It was formed of brass, and expanded somewhat in the\nshape of a broad leaf.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe poet omits no opportunity of paying honor to Nestor. His age has\ndisabled him from taking an active part in the games, yet, Antilochus\nwins, not by the speed of his horses, but by the wisdom of Nestor.\n\n[This could not happen unless the felly of the wheel were nearly\nhorizontal to the eye of the spectator, in which case the chariot must\nbe infallibly overturned.\u2014There is an obscurity in the passage which\nnone of the commentators explain. The Scholiast, as quoted by Clarke,\nattempts an explanation, but, I think, not successfully.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Eumelus.]\n\n[Resentful of the attack made on him by Diomede in the fifth Book.]\n\n[The twin monster or double man called the Molions. They were sons of\nActor and Molione, and are said to have had two heads with four hands\nand four feet, and being so formed were invincible both in battle and\nin athletic exercises. Even Hercules could only slay them by stratagem,\nwhich he did when he desolated Elis. See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The repetition follows the original.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03b2\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5.]\n\n [With which they bound on the cestus.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u2014It is a circumstance on which the Scholiast observes that it\ndenotes in a wrestler the greatest possible bodily strength and\nfirmness of position.\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[I have given what seems to me the most probable interpretation, and\nsuch a one as to any person who has ever witnessed a wrestling-match,\nwill, I presume, appear intelligible.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The Sidonians were celebrated not only as the most ingenious artists\nbut as great adepts in science, especially in astronomy and\narithmetical calculation.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[King of Lemnos.]\n\n[That is to say, Ulysses; who, from the first intending it, had run\nclose behind him.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe prodigious weight and size of the quoit is described with the\nsimplicity of the orientals, and in the manner of the heroic ages. The\npoet does not specify the quantity of this enormous piece of iron, but\nthe use it will be to the winner. We see from hence that the ancients\nin the prizes they proposed, had in view not only the honorable but the\nuseful; a captive for work, a bull for tillage, a quoit for the\nprovision of iron, which in those days was scarce.\n\n[The use of this staff was to separate the cattle. It had a string\nattached to the lower part of it, which the herdsman wound about his\nhand, and by the help of it whirled the staff to a prodigious\ndistance.\u2014Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The transition from narrative to dramatic follows the original.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Apollo; frequently by Homer called the King without any addition.]\u2014Tr.\n\nTeucer is eminent for his archery, yet he is excelled by Meriones, who\nhad not neglected to invoke Apollo the god of archery.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes for Book XXIV:\n\n\nThis is the first allusion in the Iliad to the _Judgment of Paris_,\nwhich gave mortal offence to Minerva and Juno. On this account it has\nbeen supposed by some that these lines are spurious, on the ground that\nHomer could not have known the fable, or he would have mentioned it\nearlier in the poem.\u2014Felton.\n\n[His blessing, if he is properly influenced by it; his curse in its\nconsequences if he is deaf to its dictates.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[This is the sense preferred by the Scholiast, for it is not true that\nThetis was always present with Achilles, as is proved by the passage\nimmediately ensuing.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The angler\u2019s custom was, in those days, to guard his line above the\nhook from the fishes\u2019 bite, by passing it through a pipe of horn.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[Jupiter justifies him against Apollo\u2019s charge, affirming him to be\nfree from those mental defects which chiefly betray men into sin,\nfolly, improvidence, and perverseness.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[But, at first, he did fly. It is therefore spoken, as the Scholiast\nobserves,\n\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03c9\u03c2, and must be understood as the language of strong maternal\naffection.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u03c5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9.]\n\n[Through which the reins were passed.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The yoke being flat at the bottom, and the pole round, there would of\ncourse be a small aperture between the band and the pole on both sides,\nthrough which, according to the Scholium in Villoisson, they thrust the\nends of the tackle lest they should dangle.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The text here is extremely intricate; as it stands now, the sons are,\nfirst, said to yoke the horses, then Priam and Id\u00e6us are said to do it,\nand in the palace too. I have therefore adopted an alteration suggested\nby Clarke, who with very little violence to the copy, proposes instead\nof \u03b6\u03b5\u03c5\u03b3\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd to read\u2014\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[The words both signify\u2014sable.]\u2014Tr.\n\nPriam begins not with a display of the treasures he has brought for the\nredemption of Hector\u2019s body, but with a pathetic address to the\nfeelings of Achilles. Homer well knew that neither gold nor silver\nwould influence the heart of a young and generous warrior, but that\npersuasion would. The old king therefore, with a judicious abruptness,\navails himself of his most powerful plea at once, and seizes the\nsympathy of the hero, before he has time to recollect who it is that\naddresses him.\n\n[Mortified to see his generosity, after so much kindness shown to\nPriam, still distrusted, and that the impatience of the old king\nthreatened to deprive him of all opportunity to do gracefully what he\ncould not be expected to do willingly.]\u2014Tr.\n\n[To control anger argues a great mind\u2014and to avoid occasions that may\nbetray one into it, argues a still greater. An observation that should\nsuggest itself to us with no little force, when Achilles, not\nremarkable either for patience or meekness, exhorts Priam to beware of\nprovoking him; and when having cleansed the body of Hector and covered\nit, he places it himself in the litter, lest his father, seeing how\nindecently he had treated it, should be exasperated at the sight, and\nby some passionate reproach exasperate himself also. For that a person\nso singularly irascible and of a temper harsh as his, should not only\nbe aware of his infirmity, but even guard against it with so much\nprecaution, evidences a prudence truly wonderful.\u2014Plutarch.]\u2014Tr.\n\n['\u0395\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd. Clarke renders the word in this place, _falso met\u00fb,\nludens,_ and Eustathius says that Achilles suggested such cause of fear\nto Priam, to excuse his lodging him in an exterior part of the tent.\nThe general import of the Greek word is sarcastic, but here it\nsignifies rather\u2014to intimidate. See also Dacier.]\u2014Tr.\n\nThe poet here shows the importance of Achilles in the army. Agamemnon\nis the general, yet all the chief commanders appeal to him for advice,\nand on his own authority he promises Priam a cessation of arms. Giving\nhis hand to confirm the promise, agrees with the custom of the present\nday.\n\nThis lament of Andromache may be compared to her pathetic address to\nHector in the scene at the Sc\u00e6an gate. It forms indeed, a most\nbeautiful and eloquent pendant to that.\u2014Felton.\n\n[This, according to the Scholiast, is a probable sense of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\u2014He\nderives it \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03ba \u03b3\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd.\u2014See Villoisson.]\u2014Tr.\n\nHelen is throughout the Iliad a genuine lady, graceful in motion and\nspeech, noble in her associations, full of remorse for a fault for\nwhich higher powers seem responsible, yet grateful and affectionate\ntowards those with whom that fault had connected her. I have always\nthought the following speech in which Helen laments Hector and hints at\nher own invidious and unprotected situation in Troy, as almost the\nsweetest passage in the poem.\u2014H.N. Coleridge.\n\n[\u03a9\u03c2 \u03bf\u03b9 \u03b3'\u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd \u0395\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b9\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf.]","title":"The Iliad of Homer: Translated into English Blank Verse by William Cowper","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":169748}