{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_6150/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_6150","id":"gutenberg_6150","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6150","summary":null,"tags":["Achilles (Mythological character) -- Poetry","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Classical Antiquity","Classical literature","Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English","Trojan War -- Poetry"],"text":"The Iliad\n\nby Homer\n\nRendered into English Blank verse by\nEdward, Earl of Derby\n\n\n\n\nContents\n\n PREFACE.\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\nPREFACE.\n\nIn the spring of 1862 I was induced, at the request of some personal\nfriends, to print, for private circulation only, a small volume of\n\u201cTranslations of Poems Ancient and Modern,\u201d in which was included the\nfirst Book of the Iliad. The opinions expressed by some competent\njudges of the degree of success which had attended this \u201cattempt to\ninfuse into an almost literal English version something of the spirit,\nas well as the simplicity, of the great original,\u201d [Footnote:\nIntroduction to unpublished volume.] were sufficiently favourable to\nencourage me to continue the work which I had begun. It has afforded\nme, in the intervals of more urgent business, an unfailing, and\nconstantly increasing source of interest; and it is not without a\nfeeling of regret at the completion of my task, and a sincere\ndiffidence as to its success, that I venture to submit the result of my\nlabour to the ordeal of public criticism.\n\nVarious causes, irrespective of any demerits of the work itself, forbid\nme to anticipate for this translation any extensive popularity. First,\nI fear that the taste for, and appreciation of, Classical Literature,\nare greatly on the decline; next, those who have kept up their\nclassical studies, and are able to read and enjoy the original, will\nhardly take an interest in a mere translation; while the English\nreader, unacquainted with Greek, will naturally prefer the harmonious\nversification and polished brilliancy of Pope\u2019s translation; with\nwhich, as a happy adaptation of the Homeric story to the spirit of\nEnglish poetry, I have not the presumption to enter into competition.\nBut, admirable as it is, Pope\u2019s Iliad can hardly be said to be Homer\u2019s\nIliad; and there may be some who, having lost the familiarity with the\noriginal language which they once possessed, may, if I have at all\nsucceeded in my attempt, have recalled to their minds a faint echo of\nthe strains which delighted their earlier days, and may recognize some\nslight trace of the original perfume.\n\nNumerous as have been the translators of the Iliad, or of parts of it,\nthe metres which have been selected have been almost as various: the\nordinary couplet in rhyme, the Spenserian stanza, the Trochaic or\nBallad metre, all have had their partisans, even to that \u201cpestilent\nheresy\u201d of the so-called English Hexameter; a metre wholly repugnant to\nthe genius of our language; which can only be pressed into the service\nby a violation of every rule of prosody; and of which, notwithstanding\nmy respect for the eminent men who have attempted to naturalize it, I\ncould never read ten lines without being irresistibly reminded of\nCanning\u2019s\n\n\u201cDactylics call\u2019st thou them? God help thee, silly one!\u201d\n\n\nBut in the progress of this work, I have been more and more confirmed\nin the opinion which I expressed at its commencement, that (whatever\nmay be the extent of my own individual failure) \u201cif justice is ever to\nbe done to the easy flow and majestic simplicity of the grand old Poet,\nit can only be in the Heroic blank verse.\u201d I have seen isolated\npassages admirably rendered in other metres; and there are many\ninstances in which a translation line for line and couplet for couplet\nnaturally suggests itself, and in which it is sometimes difficult to\navoid an involuntary rhyme; but the blank verse appears to me the only\nmetre capable of adapting itself to all the gradations, if I may use\nthe term, of the Homeric style; from the finished poetry of the\nnumerous similes, in which every touch is nature, and nothing is\novercoloured or exaggerated, down to the simple, almost homely, style\nof some portions of the narrative. Least of all can any other metre do\nfull justice to the spirit and freedom of the various speeches, in\nwhich the old warriors give utterance, without disguise or restraint,\nto all their strong and genuine emotions. To subject these to the\ntrammels of couplet and rhyme would be as destructive of their chief\ncharacteristics, as the application of a similar process to the\nParadise Lost of Milton, or the tragedies of Shakespeare; the effect\nindeed may be seen by comparing, with some of the noblest speeches of\nthe latter, the few couplets which he seems to have considered himself\nbound by custom to tack on to their close, at the end of a scene or an\nact.\n\nI have adopted, not without hesitation, the Latin, rather than the\nGreek, nomenclature for the Heathen Deities. I have been induced to do\nso from the manifest incongruity of confounding the two; and from the\nfact that though English readers may be familiar with the names of\nZeus, or Aphrodite, or even Poseidon, those of Hera, or Ares, or\nHephaestus, or Leto, would hardly convey to them a definite\nsignification.\n\nIt has been my aim throughout to produce a translation and not a\nparaphrase; not indeed such a translation as would satisfy, with regard\nto each word, the rigid requirements of accurate scholarship; but such\nas would fairly and honestly give the sense and spirit of every\npassage, and of every line; omitting nothing, and expanding nothing;\nand adhering, as closely as our language will allow, ever to every\nepithet which is capable of being translated, and which has, in the\nparticular passage, anything of a special and distinctive character. Of\nthe many deficiencies in my execution of this intention, I am but too\nconscious; whether I have been in any degree successful, must be left\nto the impartial decision of such of the Public as may honour this work\nwith their perusal.\n\nD.\n\n\nKNOWSLEY, OCT., 1864\n\nNOTE TO THE FIFTH EDITION.\n\n\nThe favourable reception which has been given to the first Editions of\nthis work, far exceeding my most sanguine hopes, affords a gratifying\nproof how far, in my preface, I had overrated the extent to which the\ntaste for, and appreciation of, Classical Literature had declined. It\nwill not, I hope, be thought extraordinary that some errors and\ninaccuracies should have found their way into a translation executed, I\nmust admit, somewhat hastily, and with less of the \u201climae labor\u201d than I\nshould have bestowed upon it, had I ventured to anticipate for it so\nextensive a circulation. My thanks, therefore, are due to those\ncritics, who, either publicly or privately, have called my attention to\npassages in which the sense of the Author has been either incorrectly\nor imperfectly rendered. All of these I have examined, and have availed\nmyself of several of the suggestions offered for their correction; and\na careful revision of the whole work, and renewed comparison with the\noriginal, have enabled me to discover other defects, the removal of\nwhich will, I hope, render the present Edition, especially in the eyes\nof Classical Scholars, somewhat more worthy of the favour which has\nbeen accorded to its predecessors.\n\nD.\n\n\nST. JAMES\u2019S SQUARE, May, 1865.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.\n\n\nIn the war of Troy, the Greeks having sacked some of the neighbouring\ntowns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryseis and\nBriseis, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the last to Achilles.\nChryses, the father of Chryseis, and priest of Apollo, comes to the\nGrecian camp to ransom her; with which the action of the poem opens, in\nthe tenth year of the siege. The priest being refused, and insolently\ndismissed by Agamemnon, entreats for vengeance from his god, who\ninflicts a pestilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a council, and\nencourages Calchas to declare the cause of it, who attributes it to the\nrefusal of Chryseis. The King being obliged to send back his captive,\nenters into a furious contest with Achilles, which Nestor pacifies;\nhowever, as he had the absolute command of the army, he seizes on\nBriseis in revenge. Achilles in discontent withdraws himself and his\nforces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, she\nsupplicates Jupiter to render them sensible of the wrong done to her\nson, by giving victory to the Trojans. Jupiter granting her suit,\nincenses Juno, between whom the debate runs high, till they are\nreconciled by the address of Vulcan.\n\nThe time of two-and-twenty days is taken up in this book; nine during\nthe plague, one in the council and quarrel of the Princes, and twelve\nfor Jupiter\u2019s stay among the Ethiopians, at whose return Thetis prefers\nher petition. The scene lies in the Grecian camp, then changes to\nChrysa, and lastly to Olympus.\n\nBOOK I.\n\nOf Peleus\u2019 son, Achilles, sing, O Muse,\nThe vengeance, deep and deadly; whence to Greece\nUnnumbered ills arose; which many a soul\nOf mighty warriors to the viewless shades\nUntimely sent; they on the battle plain\nUnburied lay, a prey to rav\u2019ning dogs,\nAnd carrion birds; but so had Jove decreed,\nFrom that sad day when first in wordy war,\nThe mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nConfronted stood by Peleus\u2019 godlike son.\n\nSay then, what God the fatal strife provok\u2019d?\nJove\u2019s and Latona\u2019s son; he, filled with wrath\nAgainst the King, with deadly pestilence\nThe camp afflicted,\u2014and the people died,\u2014\nFor Chryses\u2019 sake, his priest, whom Atreus\u2019 son\nWith scorn dismiss\u2019d, when to the Grecian ships\nHe came, his captive daughter to redeem,\nWith costly ransom charg\u2019d; and in his hand\nThe sacred fillet of his God he bore,\nAnd golden staff; to all he sued, but chief\nTo Atreus\u2019 sons, twin captains of the host:\n\u201cYe sons of Atreus, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nMay the great Gods, who on Olympus dwell,\nGrant you yon hostile city to destroy,\nAnd home return in safety; but my child\nRestore, I pray; her proffer\u2019d ransom take,\nAnd in his priest, the Lord of Light revere.\u201d\n\nThen through the ranks assenting murmurs ran,\nThe priest to rev\u2019rence, and the ransom take:\nNot so Atrides; he, with haughty mien,\nAnd bitter speech, the trembling sire address\u2019d:\n\u201cOld man, I warn thee, that beside our ships\nI find thee not, or ling\u2019ring now, or back\nReturning; lest thou prove of small avail\nThy golden staff, and fillet of thy God.\nHer I release not, till her youth be fled;\nWithin my walls, in Argos, far from home,\nHer lot is cast, domestic cares to ply,\nAnd share a master\u2019s bed. For thee, begone!\nIncense me not, lest ill betide thee now.\u201d\n\nHe said: the old man trembled, and obeyed;\nBeside the many-dashing Ocean\u2019s shore\nSilent he pass\u2019d; and all apart, he pray\u2019d\nTo great Apollo, fair Latona\u2019s son:\n\n\u201cHear me, God of the silver bow! whose care\nChrysa surrounds, and Cilia\u2019s lovely vale;\nWhose sov\u2019reign sway o\u2019er Tenedos extends;\nO Smintheus, hear! if e\u2019er my offered gifts\nFound favour in thy sight; if e\u2019er to thee\nI burn\u2019d the fat of bulls and choicest goats,\nGrant me this boon\u2014upon the Grecian host\nLet thine unerring darts avenge my tears.\u201d\n\nThus as he pray\u2019d, his pray\u2019r Apollo heard:\nAlong Olympus\u2019 heights he pass\u2019d, his heart\nBurning with wrath; behind his shoulders hung\nHis bow, and ample quiver; at his back\nRattled the fateful arrows as he mov\u2019d;\nLike the night-cloud he pass\u2019d, and from afar\nHe bent against the ships, and sped the bolt;\nAnd fierce and deadly twang\u2019d the silver bow.\nFirst on the mules and dogs, on man the last,\nWas pour\u2019d the arrowy storm; and through the camp,\nConstant and num\u2019rous, blaz\u2019d the fun\u2019ral fires.\n\nNine days the heav\u2019nly Archer on the troops\nHurl\u2019d his dread shafts; the tenth, th\u2019 assembled Greeks\nAchilles call\u2019d to council; so inspir\u2019d\nBy Juno, white-arm\u2019d Goddess, who beheld\nWith pitying eyes the wasting hosts of Greece.\nWhen all were met, and closely throng\u2019d around,\nRose the swift-footed chief, and thus began:\n\n\u201cGreat son of Atreus, to my mind there seems,\nIf we would \u2019scape from death, one only course,\nHome to retrace our steps: since here at once\nBy war and pestilence our forces waste.\nBut seek we first some prophet, or some priest,\nOr some wise vision-seer (since visions too\nFrom Jove proceed), who may the cause explain,\nWhich with such deadly wrath Apollo fires:\nIf for neglected hecatombs or pray\u2019rs\nHe blame us; or if fat of lambs and goats\nMay soothe his anger and the plague assuage.\u201d\n\nThis said, he sat; and Thestor\u2019s son arose,\nCalchas, the chief of seers, to whom were known\nThe present, and the future, and the past;\nWho, by his mystic art, Apollo\u2019s gift,\nGuided to Ilium\u2019s shore the Grecian fleet.\nWho thus with cautious speech replied, and said;\n\u201cAchilles, lov\u2019d of Heav\u2019n, thou bidd\u2019st me say\nWhy thus incens\u2019d the far-destroying King;\nTherefore I speak; but promise thou, and swear,\nBy word and hand, to bear me harmless through.\nFor well I know my speech must one offend,\nThe Argive chief, o\u2019er all the Greeks supreme;\nAnd terrible to men of low estate\nThe anger of a King; for though awhile\nHe veil his wrath, yet in his bosom pent\nIt still is nurs\u2019d, until the time arrive;\nSay, then, wilt thou protect me, if I speak?\u201d\n\nHim answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cSpeak boldly out whate\u2019er thine art can tell;\nFor by Apollo\u2019s self I swear, whom thou,\nO Calchas, serv\u2019st, and who thy words inspires,\nThat, while I live, and see the light of Heav\u2019n,\nNot one of all the Greeks shall dare on thee,\nBeside our ships, injurious hands to lay:\nNo, not if Agamemnon\u2019s self were he,\nWho \u2019mid our warriors boasts the foremost place.\u201d\n\nEmbolden\u2019d thus, th\u2019 unerring prophet spoke:\n\u201cNot for neglected hecatombs or pray\u2019rs,\nBut for his priest, whom Agamemnon scorn\u2019d,\nNor took his ransom, nor his child restor\u2019d;\nOn his account the Far-destroyer sends\nThis scourge of pestilence, and yet will send;\nNor shall we cease his heavy hand to feel,\nTill to her sire we give the bright-ey\u2019d girl,\nUnbought, unransom\u2019d, and to Chrysa\u2019s shore\nA solemn hecatomb despatch; this done,\nThe God, appeas\u2019d, his anger may remit.\u201d\n\nThis said, he sat; and Atreus\u2019 godlike son,\nThe mighty monarch, Agamemnon, rose,\nHis dark soul fill\u2019d with fury, and his eyes\nFlashing like flames of fire; on Calchas first\nA with\u2019ring glance he cast, and thus he spoke;\n\n\u201cProphet of ill! thou never speak\u2019st to me\nBut words of evil omen; for thy soul\nDelights to augur ill, but aught of good\nThou never yet hast promis\u2019d, nor perform\u2019d.\nAnd now among the Greeks thou spread\u2019st abroad\nThy lying prophecies, that all these ills\nCome from the Far-destroyer, for that I\nRefus\u2019d the ransom of my lovely prize,\nAnd that I rather chose herself to keep,\nTo me not less than Clytemnestra dear,\nMy virgin-wedded wife; nor less adorn\u2019d\nIn gifts of form, of feature, or of mind.\nYet, if it must he so, I give her back;\nI wish my people\u2019s safety, not their death.\nBut seek me out forthwith some other spoil,\nLest empty-handed I alone appear\nOf all the Greeks; for this would ill beseem;\nAnd how I lose my present share, ye see.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied:\n\u201cHaughtiest of men, and greediest of the prey!\nHow shall our valiant Greeks for thee seek out\nSome other spoil? no common fund have we\nOf hoarded treasures; what our arms have won\nFrom captur\u2019d towns, has been already shar\u2019d,\nNor can we now resume th\u2019 apportion\u2019d spoil.\nRestore the maid, obedient to the God!\nAnd if Heav\u2019n will that we the strong-built walls\nOf Troy should raze, our warriors will to thee\nA threefold, fourfold recompense assign.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cThink not, Achilles, valiant though thou art\nIn fight, and godlike, to defraud me thus;\nThou shalt not so persuade me, nor o\u2019erreach.\nThink\u2019st thou to keep thy portion of the spoil,\nWhile I with empty hands sit humbly down?\nThe bright-ey\u2019d girl thou bidd\u2019st me to restore;\nIf then the valiant Greeks for me seek out\nSome other spoil, some compensation just,\n\u2019Tis well: if not, I with my own right hand\nWill from some other chief, from thee perchance,\nOr Ajax, or Ulysses, wrest his prey;\nAnd woe to him, on whomsoe\u2019er I call!\nBut this for future counsel we remit:\nHaste we then now our dark-ribb\u2019d bark to launch,\nMuster a fitting crew, and place on board\nThe sacred hecatomb; then last embark\nThe fair Chryseis; and in chief command\nLet some one of our councillors be plac\u2019d,\nAjax, Ulysses, or Idomeneus,\nOr thou, the most ambitious of them all,\nThat so our rites may soothe the angry God.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles thus with scornful glance;\n\u201cOh, cloth\u2019d in shamelessness! oh, sordid soul!\nHow canst thou hope that any Greek for thee\nWill brave the toils of travel or of war?\nWell dost thou know that \u2019t was no feud of mine\nWith Troy\u2019s brave sons that brought me here in arms;\nThey never did me wrong; they never drove\nMy cattle, or my horses; never sought\nIn Phthia\u2019s fertile, life-sustaining fields\nTo waste the crops; for wide between us lay\nThe shadowy mountains and the roaring sea.\nWith thee, O void of shame! with thee we sail\u2019d,\nFor Menelaus and for thee, ingrate,\nGlory and fame on Trojan crests to win.\nAll this hast thou forgotten, or despis\u2019d;\nAnd threat\u2019nest now to wrest from me the prize\nI labour\u2019d hard to win, and Greeks bestow\u2019d.\nNor does my portion ever equal thine,\nWhen on some populous town our troops have made\nSuccessful war; in the contentious fight\nThe larger portion of the toil is mine;\nBut when the day of distribution comes,\nThine is the richest spoil; while I, forsooth,\nMust be too well content to bear on board\nSome paltry prize for all my warlike toil.\nTo Phthia now I go; so better far,\nTo steer my homeward course, and leave thee here\nBut little like, I deem, dishonouring me,\nTo fill thy coffers with the spoils of war.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cFly then, if such thy mind! I ask thee not\nOn mine account to stay; others there are\nWill guard my honour and avenge my cause:\nAnd chief of all, the Lord of counsel, Jove!\nOf all the Heav\u2019n-born Kings, thou art the man\nI hate the most; for thou delight\u2019st in nought\nBut war and strife: thy prowess I allow;\nYet this, remember, is the gift of Heav\u2019n.\nReturn then, with thy vessels, if thou wilt,\nAnd with thy followers, home; and lord it there\nOver thy Myrmidons! I heed thee not!\nI care not for thy fury! Hear my threat:\nSince Phoebus wrests Chryseis from my arms,\nIn mine own ship, and with mine own good crew,\nHer I send forth; and, in her stead, I mean,\nEv\u2019n from thy tent, myself, to bear thy prize,\nThe fair Briseis; that henceforth thou know\nHow far I am thy master; and that, taught\nBy thine example, others too may fear\nTo rival me, and brave me to my face.\u201d\n\nThus while he spake, Achilles chaf\u2019d with rage;\nAnd in his manly breast his heart was torn\nWith thoughts conflicting\u2014whether from his side\nTo draw his mighty sword, and thrusting by\nTh\u2019 assembled throng, to kill th\u2019 insulting King;\nOr school his soul, and keep his anger down.\nBut while in mind and spirit thus he mus\u2019d,\nAnd half unsheath\u2019d his sword, from Heav\u2019n came down\nMinerva, sent by Juno, white-arm\u2019d Queen,\nWhose love and care both chiefs alike enjoy\u2019d.\nShe stood behind, and by the yellow hair\nShe held the son of Peleus, visible\nTo him alone, by all the rest unseen.\nAchilles, wond\u2019ring, turn\u2019d, and straight he knew\nThe blue-eyed Pallas; awful was her glance;\nWhom thus the chief with winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhy com\u2019st thou, child of aegis-bearing Jove?\nTo see the arrogance of Atreus\u2019 son?\nBut this I say, and will make good my words,\nThis insolence may cost him soon his life.\u201d\n\nTo whom the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess thus replied:\n\u201cFrom Heav\u2019n I came, to curb, if thou wilt hear,\nThy fury; sent by Juno, white-arm\u2019d Queen,\nWhose love and care ye both alike enjoy.\nCease, then, these broils, and draw not thus thy sword;\nIn words, indeed, assail him as thou wilt.\nBut this I promise, and will make it good,\nThe time shall come, when for this insolence\nA threefold compensation shall be thine;\nOnly be sway\u2019d by me, and curb thy wrath.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cGoddess, I needs must yield to your commands,\nIndignant though I be\u2014for so \u2019tis best;\nWho hears the Gods, of them his pray\u2019rs are heard.\u201d\n\nHe said: and on the silver hilt he stay\u2019d\nHis pow\u2019rful hand, and flung his mighty sword\nBack to its scabbard, to Minerva\u2019s word\nObedient: she her heav\u2019nward course pursued\nTo join th\u2019 Immortals in th\u2019 abode of Jove.\nBut Peleus\u2019 son, with undiminish\u2019d wrath,\nAtrides thus with bitter words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cThou sot, with eye of dog, and heart of deer!\nWho never dar\u2019st to lead in armed fight\nTh\u2019 assembled host, nor with a chosen few\nTo man the secret ambush\u2014for thou fear\u2019st\nTo look on death\u2014no doubt \u2019tis easier far,\nGirt with thy troops, to plunder of his right\nWhoe\u2019er may venture to oppose thy will!\nA tyrant King, because thou rul\u2019st o\u2019er slaves!\nWere it not so, this insult were thy last.\nBut this I say, and with an oath confirm,\nBy this my royal staff, which never more\nShall put forth leaf nor spray, since first it left\nUpon the mountain-side its parent stem,\nNor blossom more; since all around the axe\nHath lopp\u2019d both leaf and bark, and now \u2019tis borne\nEmblem of justice, by the sons of Greece,\nWho guard the sacred ministry of law\nBefore the face of Jove! a mighty oath!\nThe time shall come, when all the sons of Greece\nShall mourn Achilles\u2019 loss; and thou the while,\nHeart-rent, shalt be all-impotent to aid,\nWhen by the warrior-slayer Hector\u2019s hand\nMany shall fall; and then thy soul shall mourn\nThe slight on Grecia\u2019s bravest warrior cast.\u201d\n\nThus spoke Pelides; and upon the ground\nHe cast his staff, with golden studs emboss\u2019d,\nAnd took his seat; on th\u2019 other side, in wrath,\nAtrides burn\u2019d; but Nestor interpos\u2019d;\nNestor, the leader of the Pylian host,\nThe smooth-tongued chief, from whose persuasive lips\nSweeter than honey flowed the stream of speech.\nTwo generations of the sons of men\nFor him were past and gone, who with himself\nWere born and bred on Pylos\u2019 lovely shore,\nAnd o\u2019er the third he now held royal sway.\nHe thus with prudent words the chiefs address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cAlas, alas! what grief is this for Greece!\nWhat joy for Priam, and for Priam\u2019s sons!\nWhat exultation for the men of Troy,\nTo hear of feuds \u2019tween you, of all the Greeks\nThe first in council, and the first in fight!\nYet, hear my words, I pray; in years, at least,\nYe both must yield to me; and in times past\nI liv\u2019d with men, and they despis\u2019d me not,\nAbler in counsel, greater than yourselves.\nSuch men I never saw, and ne\u2019er shall see,\nAs Pirithous and Dryas, wise and brave,\nCoeneus, Exadius, godlike Polypheme,\nAnd Theseus, \u00c6geus\u2019 more than mortal son.\nThe mightiest they among the sons of men;\nThe mightiest they, and of the forest beasts\nStrove with the mightiest, and their rage subdued.\nWith them from distant lands, from Pylos\u2019 shore\nI join\u2019d my forces, and their call obey\u2019d;\nWith them I play\u2019d my part; with them, not one\nWould dare to fight of mortals now on earth.\nYet they my counsels heard, my voice obey\u2019d;\nAnd hear ye also, for my words are wise.\nNor thou, though great thou be, attempt to rob\nAchilles of his prize, but let him keep\nThe spoil assign\u2019d him by the sons of Greece;\nNor thou, Pelides, with the monarch strive\nIn rivalry; for ne\u2019er to sceptred King\nHath Jove such pow\u2019rs, as to Atrides, giv\u2019n;\nAnd valiant though thou art, and Goddess-born,\nYet mightier he, for wider is his sway.\nAtrides, curb thy wrath! while I beseech\nAchilles to forbear; in whom the Greeks\nFrom adverse war their great defender see.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch, Agamemnon, thus:\n\u201cO father, full of wisdom are thy words;\nBut this proud chief o\u2019er all would domineer;\nO\u2019er all he seeks to rule, o\u2019er all to reign,\nTo all to dictate; which I will not bear.\nGrant that the Gods have giv\u2019n him warlike might,\nGave they unbridled license to his tongue?\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles, interrupting, thus:\n\u201cCoward and slave indeed I might be deem\u2019d.\nCould I submit to make thy word my law;\nTo others thy commands; seek not to me\nTo dictate, for I follow thee no more.\nBut hear me speak, and ponder what I say:\nFor the fair girl I fight not (since you choose\nTo take away the prize yourselves bestow\u2019d)\nWith thee or any one; but of the rest\nMy dark swift ship contains, against my will\nOn nought shalt thou, unpunish\u2019d, lay thy hand.\nMake trial if thou wilt, that these may know;\nThy life-blood soon should reek upon my spear.\u201d\n\nAfter this conflict keen of angry speech,\nThe chiefs arose, the assembly was dispers\u2019d.\n\nWith his own followers, and Menoetius\u2019 son,\nAchilles to his tents and ships withdrew.\nBut Atreus\u2019 son launch\u2019d a swift-sailing bark,\nWith twenty rowers mann\u2019d, and plac\u2019d on board\nThe sacred hecatomb; then last embark\u2019d\nThe fair Chryseis, and in chief command\nLaertes\u2019 son, the sage Ulysses, plac\u2019d.\nThey swiftly sped along the wat\u2019ry way.\n\nNext, proclamation through the camp was made\nTo purify the host; and in the sea,\nObedient to the word, they purified;\nThen to Apollo solemn rites perform\u2019d\nWith faultless hecatombs of bulls and goats,\nUpon the margin of the wat\u2019ry waste;\nAnd, wreath\u2019d in smoke, the savour rose to Heav\u2019n.\n\nThe camp thus occupied, the King pursued\nHis threaten\u2019d plan of vengeance; to his side\nCalling Talthybius and Eurybates,\nHeralds, and faithful followers, thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cHaste to Achilles\u2019 tent, and in your hand\nBack with you thence the fair Briseis bring:\nIf he refuse to send her, I myself\nWith a sufficient force will bear her thence,\nWhich he may find, perchance, the worse for him.\u201d\n\nSo spake the monarch, and with stern command\nDismiss\u2019d them; with reluctant steps they pass\u2019d\nAlong the margin of the wat\u2019ry waste,\nTill to the tents and ships they came, where lay\nThe warlike Myrmidons. Their chief they found\nSitting beside his tent and dark-ribb\u2019d ship.\nAchilles mark\u2019d their coming, not well pleas\u2019d:\nWith troubled mien, and awe-struck by the King,\nThey stood, nor dar\u2019d accost him; but himself\nDivin\u2019d their errand, and address\u2019d them thus:\n\n\u201cWelcome, ye messengers of Gods and men,\nHeralds! approach in safety; not with you,\nBut with Atrides, is my just offence,\nWho for the fair Briseis sends you here.\nGo, then, Patroclus, bring the maiden forth,\nAnd give her to their hands; but witness ye,\nBefore the blessed Gods and mortal men,\nAnd to the face of that injurious King,\nWhen he shall need my arm, from shameful rout\nTo save his followers; blinded by his rage,\nHe neither heeds experience of the past\nNor scans the future, provident how best\nTo guard his fleet and army from the foe.\u201d\n\nHe spoke: obedient to his friend and chief,\nPatroclus led the fair Briseis forth,\nAnd gave her to their hands; they to the ships\nRetrac\u2019d their steps, and with them the fair girl\nReluctant went: meanwhile Achilles, plung\u2019d\nIn bitter grief, from all the band apart,\nUpon the margin of the hoary sea\nSat idly gazing on the dark-blue waves;\nAnd to his Goddess-mother long he pray\u2019d,\nWith outstretch\u2019d hands, \u201cOh, mother! since thy son\nTo early death by destiny is doom\u2019d,\nI might have hop\u2019d the Thunderer on high,\nOlympian Jove, with honour would have crown\u2019d\nMy little space; but now disgrace is mine;\nSince Agamemnon, the wide-ruling King,\nHath wrested from me, and still holds, my prize.\u201d\n\nWeeping, he spoke; his Goddess-mother heard,\nBeside her aged father where she sat\nIn the deep ocean-caves: ascending quick\nThrough the dark waves, like to a misty cloud,\nBeside her son she stood; and as he wept,\nShe gently touch\u2019d him with her hand, and said,\n\u201cWhy weeps my son? and whence his cause of grief?\nSpeak out, that I may hear, and share thy pain.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied,\nGroaning, \u201cThou know\u2019st; what boots to tell thee all?\nOn Thebes we march\u2019d, Eetion\u2019s sacred town,\nAnd storm\u2019d the walls, and hither bore the spoil.\nThe spoils were fairly by the sons of Greece\nApportion\u2019d out; and to Atrides\u2019 share\nThe beauteous daughter of old Chryses fell.\nChryses, Apollo\u2019s priest, to free his child,\nCame to th\u2019 encampment of the brass-clad Greeks,\nWith costly ransom charg\u2019d; and in his hand\nThe sacred fillet of his God he bore,\nAnd golden staff; to all he sued, but chief\nTo Atreus\u2019 sons, twin captains of the host.\nThen through the ranks assenting murmurs ran,\nThe priest to rev\u2019rence, and the ransom take:\nNot so Atrides; he, with haughty mien\nAnd bitter words, the trembling sire dismiss\u2019d.\nThe old man turn\u2019d in sorrow; but his pray\u2019r\nPhoebus Apollo heard, who lov\u2019d him well.\nAgainst the Greeks he bent his fatal bow,\nAnd fast the people fell; on ev\u2019ry side\nThroughout the camp the heav\u2019nly arrows flew;\nA skilful seer at length the cause reveal\u2019d\nWhy thus incens\u2019d the Archer-God; I then,\nThe first, gave counsel to appease his wrath.\nWhereat Atrides, full of fury, rose,\nAnd utter\u2019d threats, which he hath now fulfill\u2019d.\nFor Chryses\u2019 daughter to her native land\nIn a swift-sailing ship the keen-ey\u2019d Greeks\nHave sent, with costly off\u2019rings to the God:\nBut her, assign\u2019d me by the sons of Greece,\nBrises\u2019 fair daughter, from my tent e\u2019en now\nThe heralds bear away. Then, Goddess, thou,\nIf thou hast pow\u2019r, protect thine injur\u2019d son.\nFly to Olympus, to the feet of Jove,\nAnd make thy pray\u2019r to him, if on his heart\nThou hast in truth, by word or deed, a claim.\nFor I remember, in my father\u2019s house,\nI oft have heard thee boast, how thou, alone\nOf all th\u2019 Immortals, Saturn\u2019s cloud-girt son\nDidst shield from foul disgrace, when all the rest,\nJuno, and Neptune, and Minerva join\u2019d,\nWith chains to bind him; then, O Goddess, thou\nDidst set him free, invoking to his aid\nHim of the hundred arms, whom Briareus\nTh\u2019 immortal Gods, and men \u00c6geon call.\nHe, mightier than his father, took his seat\nBy Saturn\u2019s side, in pride of conscious strength:\nFear seiz\u2019d on all the Gods, nor did they dare\nTo bind their King: of this remind him now,\nAnd clasp his knees, and supplicate his aid\nFor Troy\u2019s brave warriors, that the routed Greeks\nBack to their ships with slaughter may be driv\u2019n;\nThat all may taste the folly of their King,\nAnd Agamemnon\u2019s haughty self may mourn\nThe slight on Grecia\u2019s bravest warrior cast.\u201d\n\nThus he; and Thetis, weeping, thus replied:\n\u201cAlas, my child, that e\u2019er I gave thee birth!\nWould that beside thy ships thou could\u2019st remain\nFrom grief exempt, and insult! since by fate\nFew years are thine, and not a lengthened term;\nAt once to early death and sorrows doom\u2019d\nBeyond the lot of man! in evil hour\nI gave thee birth! But to the snow-clad heights\nOf great Olympus, to the throne of Jove,\nWho wields the thunder, thy complaints I bear.\nThou by thy ships, meanwhile, against the Greeks\nThine anger nurse, and from the fight abstain.\nFor Jove is to a solemn banquet gone\nBeyond the sea, on \u00c6thiopia\u2019s shore,\nSince yesternight; and with him all the Gods.\nOn the twelfth day he purpos\u2019d to return\nTo high Olympus; thither then will I,\nAnd to his feet my supplication make;\nAnd he, I think, will not deny my suit.\u201d\n\nThis said, she disappear\u2019d; and left him there\nMusing in anger on the lovely form\nTom from his arms by violence away.\n\nMeantime, Ulysses, with his sacred freight,\nArriv\u2019d at Chrysa\u2019s strand; and when his bark\nHad reach\u2019d the shelter of the deep sea bay,\nTheir sails they furl\u2019d, and lower\u2019d to the hold;\nSlack\u2019d the retaining shrouds, and quickly struck\nAnd stow\u2019d away the mast; then with their sweeps\nPull\u2019d for the beach, and cast their anchors out,\nAnd made her fast with cables to the shore.\nThen on the shingly breakwater themselves\nThey landed, and the sacred hecatomb\nTo great Apollo; and Chryseis last.\nHer to the altar straight Ulysses led,\nThe wise in counsel; in her father\u2019s hand\nHe plac\u2019d the maiden, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cChryses, from Agamemnon, King of men,\nTo thee I come, thy daughter to restore;\nAnd to thy God, upon the Greeks\u2019 behalf,\nTo offer sacrifice, if haply so\nWe may appease his wrath, who now incens\u2019d\nWith grievous suff\u2019ring visits all our host.\u201d\nThen to her sire he gave her; he with joy\nReceiv\u2019d his child; the sacred hecatomb\nAround the well-built altar for the God\nIn order due they plac\u2019d; their hands then washed,\nAnd the salt cake prepar\u2019d, before them all\nWith hands uplifted Chryses pray\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cHear me, God of the silver bow! whose care\nChrysa surrounds, and Cilla\u2019s lovely vale,\nWhose sov\u2019reign sway o\u2019er Tenedos extends!\nOnce hast thou heard my pray\u2019r, aveng\u2019d my cause,\nAnd pour\u2019d thy fury on the Grecian host.\nHear yet again, and grant what now I ask;\nWithdraw thy chast\u2019ning hand, and stay the plague.\u201d\n\nThus, as he pray\u2019d, his pray\u2019r Apollo heard.\nTheir pray\u2019rs concluded, and the salt cake strew\u2019d\nUpon the victims\u2019 heads, they drew them back,\nAnd slew, and flay\u2019d; then cutting from the thighs\nThe choicest pieces, and in double layers\nO\u2019erspreading them with fat, above them plac\u2019d\nThe due meat-off\u2019rings; then the aged priest\nThe cleft wood kindled, and libations pour\u2019d\nOf ruddy wine; arm\u2019d with the five-fork\u2019d prongs\nTh\u2019 attendant ministers beside him stood.\nThe thighs consum\u2019d with fire, the inward parts\nThey tasted first; the rest upon the spits\nRoasted with care, and from the fire withdrew.\nTheir labours ended, and the feast prepar\u2019d,\nThey shared the social meal, nor lacked there aught.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nTh\u2019 attendant youths the flowing goblets crown\u2019d,\nAnd in fit order serv\u2019d the cups to all.\nAll day they sought the favour of the God,\nThe glorious paeans chanting, and the praise\nOf Phoebus: he, well pleas\u2019d, the strain receiv\u2019d\nBut when the sun was set, and shades of night\nO\u2019erspread the sky, upon the sandy beach\nClose to their ship they laid them down to rest.\nAnd when the rosy-finger\u2019d morn appear\u2019d,\nBack to the camp they took their homeward way\nA fav\u2019ring breeze the Far-destroyer sent:\nThey stepp\u2019d the mast, and spread the snowy sail:\nFull in the midst the bellying sail receiv\u2019d\nThe gallant breeze; and round the vessel\u2019s prow\nThe dark waves loudly roar\u2019d, as on she rush\u2019d\nSkimming the seas, and cut her wat\u2019ry way.\nArriv\u2019d where lay the wide-spread host of Greece,\nTheir dark-ribb\u2019d vessel on the beach they drew\nHigh on the sand, and strongly shor\u2019d her up;\nThen through the camp they took their sev\u2019ral ways.\n\nMeantime, beside the ships Achilles sat,\nThe Heav\u2019n-born son of Peleus, swift of foot,\nChafing with rage repress\u2019d; no more he sought\nThe honour\u2019d council, nor the battle-field;\nBut wore his soul away, and inly pin\u2019d\nFor the fierce joy and tumult of the fight.\nBut when the twelfth revolving day was come,\nBack to Olympus\u2019 heights th\u2019 immortal Gods,\nJove at their head, together all return\u2019d.\nThen Thetis, mindful of her son\u2019s request,\nRose from the ocean wave, and sped in haste\nTo high Olympus, and the courts of Heav\u2019n.\nTh\u2019 all-seeing son of Saturn there she found\nSitting apart upon the topmost crest\nOf many-ridg\u2019d Olympus; at his feet\nShe sat, and while her left hand clasp\u2019d his knees,\nHer right approached his beard, and suppliant thus\nShe made her pray\u2019r to Saturn\u2019s royal son:\n\n\u201cFather, if e\u2019er amid th\u2019 immortal Gods\nBy word or deed I did thee service true,\nHear now my pray\u2019r! Avenge my hapless son,\nOf mortals shortest-liv\u2019d, insulted now\nBy mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nAnd plunder\u2019d of his lawful spoils of war.\nBut Jove, Olympian, Lord of counsel, Thou\nAvenge his cause; and give to Trojan arms\nSuch strength and pow\u2019r, that Greeks may learn how much\nThey need my son, and give him honour due.\u201d\n\nShe said: the Cloud-compeller answer\u2019d not,\nBut silent sat; then Thetis clasp\u2019d his knees,\nAnd hung about him, and her suit renew\u2019d:\n\n\u201cGive me thy promise sure, thy gracious nod,\nOr else refuse (for thou hast none to fear),\nThat I may learn, of all th\u2019 immortal Gods,\nHow far I stand the lowest in thine eyes.\u201d\n\nThen, much disturb\u2019d, the Cloud-compeller spoke:\n\u201cSad work thou mak\u2019st, in bidding me oppose\nMy will to Juno\u2019s, when her bitter words\nAssail me; for full oft amid the Gods\nShe taunts me, that I aid the Trojan cause.\nBut thou return, that Juno see thee not,\nAnd leave to me the furth\u2019rance of thy suit.\nLo, to confirm thy faith, I nod my head;\nAnd well among th\u2019 immortal Gods is known\nThe solemn import of that pledge from me:\nFor ne\u2019er my promise shall deceive, or fail,\nOr be recall\u2019d, if with a nod confirm\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and nodded with his shadowy brows;\nWav\u2019d on th\u2019 immortal head th\u2019 ambrosial locks,\nAnd all Olympus trembled at his nod.\nThey parted thus: from bright Olympus\u2019 heights\nThe Goddess hasted to her ocean-caves,\nJove to his palace; at his entrance all\nRose from their seats at once; not one presum\u2019d\nTo wait his coming, but advanc\u2019d to meet.\nThen on his throne he sat; but not unmark\u2019d\nOf Juno\u2019s eye had been the council held\nIn secret with the silver-footed Queen,\nThe daughter of the aged Ocean-God;\nAnd with sharp words she thus addressed her Lord:\n\n\u201cTell me, deceiver, who was she with whom\nThou late held\u2019st council? ever \u2019tis thy way\nApart from me to weave thy secret schemes,\nNor dost thou freely share with me thy mind.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Sire of Gods and men replied:\n\u201cExpect not, Juno, all my mind to know;\nMy wife thou art, yet would such knowledge be\nToo much for thee; whate\u2019er I deem it fit\nThat thou shouldst know, nor God nor man shall hear\nBefore thee; but what I in secret plan,\nSeek not to know, nor curiously inquire.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nNe\u2019er have I sought, or now, or heretofore,\nThy secret thoughts to know; what thou think\u2019st fit\nTo tell, I wait thy gracious will to hear.\nYet fear I in my soul thou art beguil\u2019d\nBy wiles of Thetis, silver-footed Queen,\nThe daughter of the aged Ocean-God;\nFor she was with thee early, and embrac\u2019d\nThy knees, and has, I think, thy promise sure,\nThou wilt avenge Achilles\u2019 cause, and bring\nDestructive slaughter on the Grecian host.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cPresumptuous, to thy busy thoughts thou giv\u2019st\nToo free a range, and watchest all I do;\nYet shalt thou not prevail, but rather thus\nBe alien\u2019d from my heart\u2014the worse for thee!\nIf this be so, it is my sov\u2019reign will.\nBut now, keep silence, and my words obey,\nLest all th\u2019 Immortals fail, if I be wroth,\nTo rescue thee from my resistless hand.\u201d\n\nHe said, and terror seiz\u2019d the stag-ey\u2019d Queen:\nSilent she sat, curbing her spirit down,\nAnd all the Gods in pitying sorrow mourn\u2019d.\nVulcan, the skill\u2019d artificer, then first\nBroke silence, and with soothing words address\u2019d\nHis mother, Juno, white-arm\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n:\n\u201cSad were\u2019t, indeed, and grievous to be borne,\nIf for the sake of mortal men you two\nShould suffer angry passions to arise,\nAnd kindle broils in Heav\u2019n; so should our feast\nBy evil influence all its sweetness lack.\nLet me advise my mother (and I know\nThat her own reason will my words approve)\nTo speak my father fair; lest he again\nReply in anger, and our banquet mar.\nFor Jove, the lightning\u2019s Lord, if such his will,\nMight hurl us from our seats (so great his pow\u2019r),\nBut thou address him still with gentle words;\nSo shall his favour soon again be ours.\u201d\n\nThis said, he rose, and in his mother\u2019s hand\nA double goblet plac\u2019d, as thus he spoke:\n\u201cHave patience, mother mine! though much enforc\u2019d,\nRestrain thy spirit, lest perchance these eyes,\nDear as thou art, behold thee brought to shame;\nAnd I, though griev\u2019d in heart, be impotent\nTo save thee; for \u2019tis hard to strive with Jove.\nWhen to thy succour once before I came,\nHe seiz\u2019d me by the foot, and hurl\u2019d me down\nFrom Heav\u2019n\u2019s high threshold; all the day I fell,\nAnd with the setting sun, on Lemnos\u2019 isle\nLighted, scarce half alive; there was I found,\nAnd by the Sintian people kindly nurs\u2019d.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, the white-armed Goddess smil\u2019d,\nAnd, smiling, from, his hand receiv\u2019d the cup,\nThen to th\u2019 Immortals all, in order due,\nHe minister\u2019d, and from the flagon pour\u2019d\nThe luscious nectar; while among the Gods\nRose laughter irrepressible, at sight\nOf Vulcan hobbling round the spacious hall.\n\nThus they till sunset pass\u2019d the festive hours;\nNor lack\u2019d the banquet aught to please the sense,\nNor sound of tuneful lyre, by Phoebus touch\u2019d,\nNor Muses\u2019 voice, who in alternate strains\nResponsive sang: but when the sun had set,\nEach to his home departed, where for each\nThe crippled Vulcan, matchless architect,\nWith wondrous skill a noble house had rear\u2019d.\n\nTo his own couch, where he was wont of old,\nWhen overcome by gentle sleep, to rest,\nOlympian Jove ascended; there he slept,\nAnd, by his side, the golden-throned Queen.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE TRIAL OF THE ARMY AND CATALOGUE OF THE FORCES.\n\n\nJupiter, in pursuance of the request of Thetis, sends a deceitful\nvision to Agamemnon, persuading him to lead the army to battle in order\nto make the Greeks sensible of their want of Achilles. The general, who\nis deluded with the hopes of taking Troy without his assistance, but\nfears the army was discouraged by his absence and the late plague, as\nwell as by length of time, contrives to make trial of their disposition\nby a stratagem. He first communicates his design to the princes in\ncouncil that he would propose a return to the soldiers, and that they\nshould put a stop to them if the proposal was embraced. Then he\nassembles the whole host, and upon moving for a return to Greece, they\nunanimously agree to it, and run to prepare the ships. They are\ndetained by the management of Ulysses, who chastises the insolence of\nThersites. The assembly is recalled, several speeches made on the\noccasion, and at length the advice of Nestor followed, which was to\nmake a general muster of the troops, and to divide them into their\nseveral nations, before they proceeded to battle. This gives occasion\nto the poet to enumerate all the forces of the Greeks and Trojans, in a\nlarge catalogue.\n\nThe time employed in this book consists not entirely of one day. The\nscene lies in the Grecian camp and upon the sea-shore; toward the end\nit removes to Troy.\n\nBOOK II.\n\nAll night in sleep repos\u2019d the other Gods,\nAnd helmed warriors; but the eyes of Jove\nSweet slumber held not, pondering in his mind\nHow to avenge Achilles\u2019 cause, and pour\nDestructive slaughter on the Grecian host.\nThus as he mus\u2019d, the wisest course appear\u2019d\nBy a deluding vision to mislead\nThe son of Atreus; and with winged words\nThus to a phantom form he gave command:\n\u201cHie thee, deluding Vision, to the camp\nAnd ships of Greece, to Agamemnon\u2019s tent;\nThere, changing nought, as I command thee, speak.\nBid that he arm in haste the long-hair\u2019d Greeks\nTo combat; for the wide-built streets of Troy\nHe now may capture; since th\u2019 immortal Gods\nWatch over her no longer; all are gain\u2019d\nBy Juno\u2019s pray\u2019rs; and woes impend o\u2019er Troy.\u201d\n\nHe said: the Vision heard, and straight obey\u2019d:\nSwiftly he sped, and reached the Grecian ships,\nAnd sought the son of Atreus; him he found\nWithin his tent, wrapped in ambrosial sleep;\nAbove his head he stood, like Neleus\u2019 son,\nNestor, whom Agamemnon rev\u2019renc\u2019d most\nOf all the Elders; in his likeness cloth\u2019d\nThus spoke the heav\u2019nly Vision; \u201cSleep\u2019st thou, son\nOf Atreus, valiant warrior, horseman bold?\nTo sleep all night but ill becomes a chief,\nCharg\u2019d with the public weal, and cares of state.\nHear now the words I bear; to thee I come\nA messenger from Jove, who from on high\nLooks down on thee with eyes of pitying love.\nHe bids thee arm in haste the long-hair\u2019d Greeks\nTo combat; since the wide-built streets of Troy\nThou now mayst capture; for th\u2019 immortal Gods\nWatch over her no longer; all are gain\u2019d\nBy Juno\u2019s pray\u2019rs; and woes impend o\u2019er Troy.\nBear this in mind; and when from sleep arous\u2019d\nLet not my words from thy remembrance fade.\u201d\nThis said, he vanish\u2019d; and the monarch left,\nInspir\u2019d with thoughts which ne\u2019er should come to pass.\nFor in that day he vainly hop\u2019d to take\nThe town of Priam; ignorant what Jove\nDesign\u2019d in secret, or what woes, what groans,\nWhat lengthen\u2019d labours in the stubborn fight,\nWere yet for Trojans and for Greeks in store.\nHe woke from sleep; but o\u2019er his senses spread\nDwelt still the heavenly voice; he sat upright;\nHe donn\u2019d his vest of texture fine, new-wrought,\nThen o\u2019er it threw his ample robe, and bound\nHis sandals fair around his well-turn\u2019d feet;\nAnd o\u2019er his shoulders flung his sword, adorn\u2019d\nWith silver studs; and bearing in his hand\nHis royal staff, ancestral, to the ships\nWhere lay the brass-clad warriors, bent his way.\n\nAurora now was rising up the steep\nOf great Olympus, to th\u2019 immortal Gods\nPure light diffusing; when Atrides bade\nThe clear-voic\u2019d heralds to th\u2019 Assembly call\nThe gen\u2019ral host; they gave the word, and straight\nFrom ev\u2019ry quarter throng\u2019d the eager crowd.\nBut first, of all the Elders, by the side\nOf Nestor\u2019s ship, the aged Pylian chief,\nA secret conclave Agamemnon call\u2019d;\nAnd, prudent, thus the chosen few address\u2019d:\n\u201cHear me, my friends! In the still hours of night\nI saw a heav\u2019nly Vision in my sleep:\nMost like it seemed in stature, form, and face\nTo rev\u2019rend Nestor; at my head it stood,\nAnd with these words address\u2019d me\u2014\u2018Sleep\u2019st thou, son\nOf Atreus, valiant warrior, horseman bold?\nTo sleep all night but ill becomes a chief,\nCharg\u2019d with the public weal, and cares of state.\nHear now the words I bear: to thee I come\nA messenger from Jove, who from on high\nLooks down on thee with eyes of pitying love.\nHe bids thee arm in haste the long-hair\u2019d Greeks\nTo combat: since the wide-built streets of Troy\nThou now may\u2019st capture; for th\u2019 immortal Gods\nWatch over her no longer: all are gain\u2019d\nBy Juno\u2019s pray\u2019rs, and woes impend o\u2019er Troy.\nBear thou my words in mind.\u2019 Thus as he spoke\nHe vanish\u2019d; and sweet sleep forsook mine eyes.\nSeek we then straight to arm the sons of Greece:\nBut first, as is our wont, myself will prove\nThe spirit of the army; and suggest\nTheir homeward voyage; ye, throughout the camp\nRestore their courage, and restrain from flight.\u201d\n\nThus having said, he sat; and next arose\nNestor, the chief of Pylos\u2019 sandy shore.\nWho thus with prudent speech replied, and said:\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nIf any other had this Vision seen,\nWe should have deem\u2019d it false, and laugh\u2019d to scorn\nThe idle tale; but now it hath appear\u2019d,\nOf all our army, to the foremost man:\nSeek we then straight to arm the sons of Greece.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from the council led the way.\nUprose the sceptred monarchs, and obey\u2019d\nTheir leader\u2019s call, and round them throng\u2019d the crowd.\nAs swarms of bees, that pour in ceaseless stream\nFrom out the crevice of some hollow rock,\nNow clust\u2019ring, and anon \u2019mid vernal flow\u2019rs,\nSome here, some there, in busy numbers fly;\nSo to th\u2019 Assembly from their tents and ships\nThe countless tribes came thronging; in their midst,\nBy Jove enkindled, Rumour urged them on.\nGreat was the din; and as the mighty mass\nSat down, the solid earth beneath them groan\u2019d;\nNine heralds rais\u2019d their voices loud, to quell\nThe storm of tongues, and bade the noisy crowd\nBe still, and listen to the Heav\u2019n-born Kings.\n\nAt length they all were seated, and awhile\nTheir clamours sank to silence; then uprose\nThe monarch Agamemnon, in his hand\nHis royal staff, the work of Vulcan\u2019s art;\nWhich Vulcan to the son of Saturn gave;\nTo Hermes he, the heav\u2019nly messenger;\nHermes to Pelops, matchless charioteer;\nPelops to Atreus; Atreus at his death\nBequeath\u2019d it to Thyestes, wealthy Lord\nOf num\u2019rous herds; to Agamemnon last\nThyestes left it; token of his sway\nO\u2019er all the Argive coast, and neighbouring isles.\nOn this the monarch leant, as thus he spoke:\n\u201cFriends, Grecian Heroes, Ministers of Mars!\nGrievous, and all unlook\u2019d for, is the blow\nWhich Jove hath dealt me; by his promise led\nI hop\u2019d to raze the strong-built walls of Troy,\nAnd home return in safety; but it seems\nHe falsifies his word, and bids me now\nReturn to Argos, frustrate of my hope,\nDishonour\u2019d, and with grievous loss of men.\nSuch now appears th\u2019 o\u2019er-ruling sov\u2019reign will\nOf Saturn\u2019s son; who oft hath sunk the heads\nOf many a lofty city in the dust,\nAnd yet will sink; for mighty is his hand.\n\u2019Tis shame indeed that future days should hear\nHow such a force as ours, so great, so brave,\nHath thus been baffled, fighting, as we do,\n\u2019Gainst numbers far inferior to our own,\nAnd see no end of all our warlike toil.\nFor should we choose, on terms of plighted truce,\nTrojans and Greeks, to number our array;\nOf Trojans, all that dwell within the town,\nAnd we, by tens disposed, to every ten,\nTo crown our cups, one Trojan should assign,\nFull many a ten no cupbearer would find:\nSo far the sons of Greece outnumber all\nThat dwell within the town; but to their aid\nBold warriors come from all the cities round,\nWho greatly harass me, and render vain\nMy hope to storm the strong-built walls of Troy.\nAlready now nine weary years have pass\u2019d;\nThe timbers of our ships are all decay\u2019d,\nThe cordage rotted; in our homes the while\nOur wives and helpless children sit, in vain\nExpecting our return; and still the work,\nFor which we hither came, remains undone.\nHear then my counsel; let us all agree\nHome to direct our course, since here in vain\nWe strive to take the well-built walls of Troy.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, the crowd, that had not heard\nThe secret council, by his words was mov\u2019d;\nSo sway\u2019d and heav\u2019d the multitude, as when\nO\u2019er the vast billows of th\u2019 Icarian sea\nEurus and Notus from the clouds of Heav\u2019n\nPour forth their fury; or as some deep field\nOf wavy corn, when sweeping o\u2019er the plain\nThe ruffling west wind sways the bending ears;\nSo was th\u2019 Assembly stirr\u2019d; and tow\u2019rd the ships\nWith clam\u2019rous joy they rush\u2019d; beneath, their feet\nRose clouds of dust, while one to other call\u2019d\nTo seize the ships and drag them to the main.\nThey clear\u2019d the channels, and with shouts of \u201chome\u201d\nThat rose to Heav\u2019n, they knock\u2019d the shores away.\nThen had the Greeks in shameful flight withdrawn,\nHad Juno not to Pallas thus appeal\u2019d:\n\u201cOh Heav\u2019n! brave child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nShall thus the Greeks, in ignominious flight,\nO\u2019er the wide sea their homeward course pursue,\nAnd as a trophy to the sons of Troy\nThe Argive Helen leave, on whose account,\nFar from their home, so many valiant Greeks\nHave cast their lives away? Go quickly thou\nAmid the brass-clad Greeks, and man by man\nAddress with words persuasive, nor permit\nTo launch their well-trimm\u2019d vessels on the deep.\u201d\n\nShe said, nor did Minerva not obey,\nBut swift descending from Olympus\u2019 heights\nWith rapid flight she reach\u2019d the Grecian ships.\nLaertes\u2019 son, in council sage as Jove\nThere found she standing; he no hand had laid\nOn his dark vessel, for with bitter grief\nHis heart was filled; the blue-ey\u2019d Maid approach\u2019d,\nAnd thus address\u2019d him: \u201cGreat Laertes\u2019 son,\nUlysses, sage in council, can it be\nThat you, the men of Greece, embarking thus\nOn your swift ships, in ignominious flight,\nO\u2019er the wide sea will take your homeward way,\nAnd as a trophy to the sons of Troy\nThe Argive Helen leave, on whose account\nFar from their homes so many valiant Greeks\nHave cast their lives away? Go quickly thou\nAmong the multitude, and man by man\nAddress with words persuasive, nor permit\nTo launch their well-trimm\u2019d vessels on the deep.\u201d\n\nShe said; the heav\u2019nly voice Ulysses knew;\nStraight, springing to the course, he cast aside,\nAnd to Eurybates of Ithaca,\nHis herald and attendant, threw his robe;\nThen to Atrides hasten\u2019d, and by him\nArm\u2019d with his royal staff ancestral, pass\u2019d\nWith rapid step amid the ships of Greece.\nEach King or leader whom he found he thus\nWith cheering words encourag\u2019d and restrain\u2019d:\n\u201cO gallant friend, \u2019tis not for thee to yield,\nLike meaner men, to panic; but thyself\nSit quiet, and the common herd restrain.\nThou know\u2019st not yet Atrides\u2019 secret mind:\nHe tries us now, and may reprove us soon.\nHis words in council reach\u2019d not all our ears:\nSee that he work us not some ill; for fierce\nHis anger; and the Lord of counsel, Jove,\nFrom whom proceeds all honour, loves him well.\u201d\n\nBut of the common herd whome\u2019er he found\nClam\u2019ring, he check\u2019d with staff and threat\u2019ning words:\n\u201cGood friend, keep still, and hear what others say,\nThy betters far: for thou art good for nought,\nOf small account in council or in fight.\nAll are not sovereigns here: ill fares the state\nWhere many masters rule; let one be Lord,\nOne King supreme; to whom wise Saturn\u2019s son\nIn token of his sov\u2019reign power hath giv\u2019n\nThe sceptre\u2019s sway and ministry of law.\u201d\n\nSuch were his words, as through the ranks he pass\u2019d:\nThey from the vessels and the tents again\nThrong\u2019d to th\u2019 Assembly, with such rush of sound,\nAs when the many-dashing ocean\u2019s wave\nBreaks on the shore, and foams the frothing sea.\nThe others all were settled in their seats:\nOnly Thersites, with unmeasur\u2019d words,\nOf which he had good store, to rate the chiefs,\nNot over-seemly, but wherewith he thought\nTo move the crowd to laughter, brawl\u2019d aloud.\nThe ugliest man was he who came to Troy:\nWith squinting eyes, and one distorted foot,\nHis shoulders round, and buried in his breast\nHis narrow head, with scanty growth of hair.\nAgainst Achilles and Ulysses most\nHis hate was turn\u2019d; on them his venom pour\u2019d;\nAnon, at Agamemnon\u2019s self he launch\u2019d\nHis loud-tongued ribaldry; \u2019gainst him he knew\nIncensed the public mind; and bawling loud,[1]\nWith scurril words, he thus address\u2019d the King:\n\u201cWhat more, thou son of Atreus, would\u2019st thou have?\nThy tents are full of brass; and in those tents\nMany fair women, whom, from all the spoil,\nWe Greeks, whene\u2019er some wealthy town we take,\nChoose first of all, and set apart for thee.\nOr dost thou thirst for gold, which here perchance\nSome Trojan brings, the ransom of his son\nCaptur\u2019d by me, or by some other Greek?\nOr some new girl, to gratify thy lust,\nKept for thyself apart? a leader, thou\nShouldst not to evil lead the sons of Greece.\nYe slaves! ye coward souls! Women of Greece!\nI will not call you men! why go we not\nHome with our ships, and leave this mighty chief\nTo gloat upon his treasures, and find out\nWhether in truth he need our aid, or no;\nWho on Achilles, his superior far,\nFoul scorn hath cast, and robb\u2019d him of his prize,\nWhich for himself he keeps? Achilles, sure,\nIs not intemperate, but mild of mood;\nElse, Atreus\u2019 son, this insult were thy last.\u201d\n\nOn Agamemnon, leader of the host,\nWith words like these Thersites pour\u2019d his hate;\nBut straight Ulysses at his side appear\u2019d,\nAnd spoke, with scornful glance, in stern rebuke:\n\u201cThou babbling fool, Thersites, prompt of speech,\nRestrain thy tongue, nor singly thus presume\nThe Kings to slander; thou, the meanest far\nOf all that with the Atridae came to Troy.\nIll it beseems, that such an one as thou\nShould lift thy voice against the Kings, and rail\nWith scurril ribaldry, and prate of home.\nHow these affairs may end, we know not yet;\nNor how, or well or ill, we may return.\nCease then against Atrides, King of men,\nTo pour thy spite, for that the valiant Greeks\nTo him, despite thy railing, as of right\nAn ample portion of the spoils assign.\nBut this I tell thee, and will make it good,\nIf e\u2019er I find thee play the fool, as now,\nThen may these shoulders cease this head to bear,\nAnd may my son Telemachus no more\nOwn me his father, if I strip not off\nThy mantle and thy garments, aye, expose\nThy nakedness, and flog thee to the ships\nHowling, and scourg\u2019d with ignominious stripes.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, upon Thersites\u2019 neck\nAnd back came down his heavy staff; the wretch\nShrank from the blow, and scalding tears let fall.\nWhere struck the golden-studded staff, appear\u2019d\nA bloody weal: Thersites quail\u2019d, and down,\nQuiv\u2019ring with pain, he sat, and wip\u2019d away.\nWith horrible grimace, the trickling tears.\nThe Greeks, despite their anger, laugh\u2019d aloud,\nAnd one to other said, \u201cGood faith, of all\nThe many works Ulysses well hath done,\nWise in the council, foremost in the fight,\nHe ne\u2019er hath done a better, than when now\nHe makes this scurril babbler hold his peace.\nMethinks his headstrong spirit will not soon\nLead him again to vilify the Kings.\u201d\n\nThus spoke the gen\u2019ral voice: but, staff in hand,\nUlysses rose; Minerva by his side,\nIn likeness of a herald, bade the crowd\nKeep silence, that the Greeks, from first to last,\nMight hear his words, and ponder his advice.\nHe thus with prudent phrase his speech began:\n\u201cGreat son of Atreus, on thy name, O King,\nThroughout the world will foul reproach be cast,\nIf Greeks forget their promise, nor make good\nThe vow they took to thee, when hitherward\nWe sailed from Argos\u2019 grassy plains, to raze,\nEre our return, the well-built walls of Troy.\nBut now, like helpless widows, or like babes,\nThey mourn their cruel fate, and pine for home.\n\u2019Tis hard indeed defeated to return;\nThe seaman murmurs, if from wife and home,\nEv\u2019n for one month, his well-found bark be stay\u2019d,\nToss\u2019d by the wint\u2019ry blasts and stormy sea;\nBut us the ninth revolving year beholds\nStill ling\u2019ring here: I cannot therefore blame\nOur valiant Greeks, if by the ships I hear\nTheir murmurs; yet \u2019twere surely worst of all\nLong to remain, and bootless to return.\nBear up, my friends, remain awhile, and see\nIf Calchas truly prophesy, or no.\nFor this ye all have seen, and can yourselves\nBear witness, all who yet are spar\u2019d by fate,\nNot long ago, when ships of Greece were met\nAt Aulis, charg\u2019d with evil freight for Troy,\nAnd we, around a fountain, to the Gods\nOur altars rear\u2019d, with faultless hecatombs,\nNear a fair plane-tree, where bright water flow\u2019d,\nBehold a wonder! by Olympian Jove\nSent forth to light, a snake, with burnish\u2019d scales,\nOf aspect fearful, issuing from beneath\nThe altars, glided to the plane-tree straight.\nThere, on the topmost bough, beneath the leaves\nCow\u2019ring, a sparrow\u2019s callow nestlings lay;\nEight fledglings, and the parent bird the ninth.\nAll the eight nestlings, utt\u2019ring piercing cries,\nThe snake devour\u2019d; and as the mother flew,\nLamenting o\u2019er her offspring, round and round,\nUncoiling, caught her, shrieking, by the wing.\nThen, when the sparrow\u2019s nestlings and herself\nThe snake had swallowed, by the God, who first\nSent him to light, a miracle was wrought:\nFor Jove, the deep-designing Saturn\u2019s son,\nTurn\u2019d him to stone; we stood, and wond\u2019ring gaz\u2019d.\nBut when this prodigy befell our rites,\nCalchas, inspir\u2019d of Heaven, took up his speech:\n\u2018Ye long-haired sons of Greece, why stand ye thus\nIn mute amaze? to us Olympian Jove,\nTo whom be endless praise, vouchsafes this sign,\nLate sent, of late fulfilment: as ye saw\nThe snake devour the sparrow and her young,\nEight nestlings, and the parent bird the ninth:\nSo, for so many years, are we condemn\u2019d\nTo wage a fruitless war; but in the tenth\nThe wide-built city shall at last be ours.\u2019\nThus he foretold, and now the time is come.\nHere then, ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks, let all remain,\nTill Priam\u2019s wealthy city be our own.\u201d\n\nHe said, and loudly cheer\u2019d the Greeks\u2014and loud\nFrom all the hollow ships came back the cheers\u2014\nIn admiration of Ulysses\u2019 speech.\nGerenian Nestor next took up the word:\n\u201cLike children, Grecian warriors, ye debate;\nLike babes to whom unknown are feats of arms.\nWhere then are now our solemn covenants,\nOur plighted oaths? Go, cast we to the fire\nOur councils held, our warriors\u2019 plans matur\u2019d,\nOur absolute pledges, and our hand-plight giv\u2019n,\nIn which our trust was placed; since thus in vain\nIn words we wrangle, and how long soe\u2019er\nWe here remain, solution none we find.\nAtrides, thou, as is thy wont, maintain\nUnchang\u2019d thy counsel; for the stubborn fight\nArray the Greeks; and let perdition seize\nThose few, those two or three among the host,\nWho hold their separate counsel\u2014(not on them\nDepends the issue!)\u2014rather than return\nTo Argos, ere we prove if Jove indeed\nWill falsify his promis\u2019d word, or no.\nFor well I ween, that on the day when first\nWe Grecians hitherward our course address\u2019d,\nTo Troy the messengers of blood and death,\nTh\u2019 o\u2019er-ruling son of Saturn, on our right\nHis lightning flashing, with auspicious sign\nAssur\u2019d us of his favour; let not then\nThe thoughts of home be breath\u2019d, ere Trojan wives\nGiven to our warriors, retribution pay\nFor wrongs by us, in Helen\u2019s cause, sustain\u2019d.\nBut whoso longs, if such an one there be,\nTo make his homeward voyage, let him take\nHis well-rigg\u2019d bark, and go; before the rest\nTo meet the doom of death! But thou, O King!\nBe well advis\u2019d thyself, and others lead\nBy wholesome counsel; for the words I speak\nAre not to be despis\u2019d; by tribes and clans,\nO Agamemnon! range thy troops, that so\nTribe may to tribe give aid, and clan to clan.\nIf thus thou do, and Greeks thy words obey,\nThen shalt thou see, of chiefs and troops alike,\nThe good and bad; for on their own behoof\nThey all shall fight; and if thou fail, shalt know\nWhether thy failure be of Heav\u2019n\u2019s decree,\nOr man\u2019s default and ignorance of war.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cFather, in council, of the sons of Greece,\nNone can compare with thee; and would to Jove\nTo Pallas, and Apollo, at my side\nI had but ten such counsellors as thee!\nThen soon should royal Priam\u2019s city fall,\nTak\u2019n and destroy\u2019d by our victorious hands.\nBut now on me hath aegis-bearing Jove,\nThe son of Saturn, fruitless toil impos\u2019d,\nAnd hurtful quarrels; for in wordy war\nAbout a girl, Achilles and myself\nEngag\u2019d; and I, alas! the strife began:\nCould we be friends again, delay were none,\nHow short soe\u2019er, of Ilium\u2019s final doom.\nBut now to breakfast, ere we wage the fight.\nEach sharpen well his spear, his shield prepare,\nEach to his fiery steeds their forage give,\nEach look his chariot o\u2019er, that through the day\nWe may unwearied stem the tide of war;\nFor respite none, how short soe\u2019er, shall be\nTill night shall bid the storm of battle cease.\nWith sweat shall reek upon each warrior\u2019s breast\nThe leathern belt beneath the cov\u2019ring shield;\nAnd hands shall ache that wield the pond\u2019rous spear:\nWith sweat shall reek the fiery steeds that draw\nEach warrior\u2019s car; but whomsoe\u2019er I find\nLoit\u2019ring beside the beaked ships, for him\n\u2019Twere hard to\u2019scape the vultures and the dogs.\u201d\n\nHe said; and from th\u2019 applauding ranks of Greece\nRose a loud sound, as when the ocean wave,\nDriv\u2019n by the south wind on some lofty beach,\nDashes against a prominent crag, expos\u2019d\nTo blasts from every storm that roars around.\nUprising then, and through the camp dispers\u2019d\nThey took their sev\u2019ral ways, and by their tents\nThe fires they lighted, and the meal prepar\u2019d;\nAnd each to some one of the Immortal Gods\nHis off\u2019ring made, that in the coming fight\nHe might escape the bitter doom of death.\nBut to the o\u2019erruling son of Saturn, Jove,\nA sturdy ox, well-fatten\u2019d, five years old,\nAtrides slew; and to the banquet call\u2019d\nThe aged chiefs and councillors of Greece;\nNestor the first, the King Idomeneus,\nThe two Ajaces next, and Tydeus\u2019 son,\nUlysses sixth, as Jove in council sage.\nBut uninvited Menelaus came,\nKnowing what cares upon his brother press\u2019d.\nAround the ox they stood, and on his head\nThe salt cake sprinkled; then amid them all\nThe monarch Agamemnon pray\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cMost great, most glorious Jove! who dwell\u2019st on high,\nIn clouds and darkness veil\u2019d, grant Thou that ere\nThis sun shall set, and night o\u2019erspread the earth,\nI may the haughty walls of Priam\u2019s house\nLay prostrate in the dust; and burn with fire\nHis lofty gates; and strip from Hector\u2019s breast\nHis sword-rent tunic, while around his corpse\nMany brave comrades, prostrate, bite the dust.\u201d\n\nThus he; but Saturn\u2019s son his pray\u2019r denied;\nReceiv\u2019d his off\u2019rings, but his toils increas\u2019d.\nTheir pray\u2019rs concluded, and the salt cake strewed\nUpon the victim\u2019s head, they drew him back,\nAnd slew, and flay\u2019d; then cutting from the thighs\nThe choicest pieces, and in double layers\nO\u2019erspreading them with fat, above them plac\u2019d\nThe due meat-off\u2019rings; these they burnt with logs\nOf leafless timber; and the inward parts,\nFirst to be tasted, o\u2019er the fire they held.\nThe thighs consum\u2019d with fire, the inward parts\nThey tasted first; the rest upon the spits\nRoasted with care, and from the fire withdrew.\nTheir labours ended, and the feast prepar\u2019d,\nThey shared the social meal, nor lacked there aught.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nGerenian Nestor thus his speech began:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nGreat Atreus\u2019 son, no longer let us pause,\nThe work delaying which the pow\u2019rs of Heav\u2019n\nHave trusted to our hands; do thou forthwith\nBid that the heralds proclamation make,\nAnd summon through the camp the brass-clad Greeks;\nWhile, in a body, through the wide-spread ranks\nWe pass, and stimulate their warlike zeal.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Agamemnon, King of men,\nObedient to his counsel, gave command\nThat to the war the clear-voic\u2019d heralds call\nThe long-hair\u2019d Greeks: they gave the word, and straight\nFrom ev\u2019ry quarter throng\u2019d the eager crowd.\nThe Heav\u2019n-born Kings, encircling Atreus\u2019 son,\nThe troops inspected: Pallas, blue-ey\u2019d Maid,\nBefore the chiefs her glorious aegis bore,\nBy time untouch\u2019d, immortal: all around\nA hundred tassels hung, rare works of art,\nAll gold, each one a hundred oxen\u2019s price.\nWith this the Goddess pass\u2019d along the ranks,\nExciting all; and fix\u2019d in every breast\nThe firm resolve to wage unwearied war;\nAnd dearer to their hearts than thoughts of home\nOr wish\u2019d return, became the battle-field.\n\nAs when a wasting fire, on mountain tops,\nHath seized the blazing woods, afar is seen\nThe glaring light; so, as they mov\u2019d, to Heav\u2019n\nFlash\u2019d the bright glitter of their burnish\u2019d arms.\n\nAs when a num\u2019rous flock of birds, or geese,\nOr cranes, or long-neck\u2019d swans, on Asian mead,\nBeside Cayster\u2019s stream, now here, now there,\nDisporting, ply their wings; then settle down\nWith clam\u2019rous noise, that all the mead resounds;\nSo to Scamander\u2019s plain, from tents and ships,\nPour\u2019d forth the countless tribes; the firm earth groan\u2019d\nBeneath the tramp of steeds and armed men.\nUpon Scamander\u2019s flow\u2019ry mead they stood,\nUnnumber\u2019d as the vernal leaves and flow\u2019rs.\n\nOr as the multitudinous swarms of flies,\nThat round the cattle-sheds in spring-tide pour,\nWhile the warm milk is frothing in the pail:\nSo numberless upon the plain, array\u2019d\nFor Troy\u2019s destruction, stood the long-hair\u2019d Greeks.\nAnd as experienced goat-herds, when their flocks\nAre mingled in the pasture, portion out\nTheir sev\u2019ral charges, so the chiefs array\u2019d\nTheir squadrons for the fight; while in the midst\nThe mighty monarch Agamemnon mov\u2019d:\nHis eye, and lofty brow, the counterpart\nOf Jove, the Lord of thunder; in his girth\nAnother Mars, with Neptune\u2019s ample chest.\nAs \u2019mid the thronging heifers in a herd\nStands, proudly eminent, the lordly bull;\nSo, by Jove\u2019s will, stood eminent that day,\n\u2019Mid many heroes, Atreus\u2019 godlike son.\n\nSay now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell,\nMuses (for ye are Goddesses, and ye\nWere present, and know all things: we ourselves\nBut hear from Rumour\u2019s voice, and nothing know),\nWho were the chiefs and mighty Lords of Greece.\nBut should I seek the multitude to name,\nNot if ten tongues were mine, ten mouths to speak,\nVoice inexhaustible, and heart of brass,\nShould I succeed, unless, Olympian maids,\nThe progeny of aegis-bearing Jove,\nYe should their names record, who came to Troy.\nThe chiefs, and all the ships, I now rehearse.\n\nB\u0153otia\u2019s troops by Peneleus were led,\nAnd Leitus, and Prothoenor bold,\nArcesilas and Clonius: they who dwelt\nIn Hyria, and on Aulis\u2019 rocky coast,\nScoenus, and Scolus, and the highland range\nOf Eteonus; in Thespeia\u2019s vale,\nGraia, and Mycalessus\u2019 wide-spread plains:\nAnd who in Harma and Eilesium dwelt,\nAnd in Erythrae, and in Eleon,\nHyle, and Peteon, and Ocalea,\nIn Copae, and in Medeon\u2019s well-built fort,\nEutresis, Thisbe\u2019s dove-frequented woods,\nAnd Coronca, and the grassy meads\nOf Haliartus; and Plataea\u2019s plain,\nIn Glissa, and the foot of Lower Thebes,\nAnd in Anchestus, Neptune\u2019s sacred grove;\nAnd who in viny-cluster\u2019d Arne dwelt,\nAnd in Mideia, and the lovely site\nOf Nissa, and Anthedon\u2019s utmost bounds.\nWith these came fifty vessels; and in each\nWere six score youths, B\u0153otia\u2019s noblest flow\u2019r.\n\nWho in Aspledon dwelt, and in Minyas\u2019 realm\nOrehomenus, two sons of Mars obey\u2019d,\nAscalaphus, and bold Ialmenus;\nIn Actor\u2019s house, the son of Azeus, born\nOf fair Astyoche, a maiden pure,\nTill in the upper chamber, where she slept,\nStout Mars by stealth her virgin bed assail\u2019d:\nOf these came thirty ships in order due.\n\nBy Schedius and Epistrophus, the sons\nOf great Iphitus, son of Naubolus,\nWere led the Phocian forces; these were they\nWho dwelt in Cyparissus, and the rock\nOf Python, and on Crissa\u2019s lovely plain;\nAnd who in Daulis, and in Panope,\nAnemorea and IIyampolis,\nAnd by Cephisus\u2019 sacred waters dwelt,\nOr in Lilaea, by Cephisus\u2019 springs.\nIn their command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\nThese were the leaders of the Phocian bands,\nAnd on B\u0153otia\u2019s left their camp was pitch\u2019d.\n\nAjax, Oileus\u2019 son, the Locrians led;\nSwift-footed, less than Ajax Telamon,\nOf stature low, with linen breastplate arm\u2019d:\nBut skill\u2019d to throw the spear o\u2019er all who dwell\nIn Hellas or Achaia: these were they\nFrom Cynos, Opus, and Calliarus,\nBessa, and Scarpha, and Augaea fair,\nTarpha, and Thronium, by Boagrius\u2019 stream.\nHim from beyond Euboea\u2019s sacred isle,\nOf Locrians follow\u2019d forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nBreathing firm courage high, th\u2019 Abantian host,\nWho from Euboea and from Chalcis came,\nOr who in vine-clad Histiaea dwelt,\nEretria, and Cerinthus maritime,\nAnd who the lofty fort of Dium held,\nAnd in Carystus and in Styra dwelt:\nThese Elephenor led, true plant of Mars,\nChalcodon\u2019s son, the brave Abantian chief.\nHim, all conspicuous with their long black hair,\nThe bold Abantians follow\u2019d: spearmen skill\u2019d,\nWho through the foemen\u2019s breastplates knew full well,\nHeld in firm grasp, to drive the ashen spear.\nIn his command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nThose who in Athens\u2019 well-built city dwelt,\nThe noble-soul\u2019d Erectheus\u2019 heritage;\nChild of the fertile soil, by Pallas rear\u2019d,\nDaughter of Jove, who him in Athens plac\u2019d\nIn her own wealthy temple; there with blood\nOf bulls and lambs, at each revolving year,\nThe youths of Athens do him sacrifice;\nThese by Menestheus, Peteus\u2019 son, were led.\nWith him might none of mortal men compare,\nIn order due of battle to array\nChariots and buckler\u2019d men; Nestor alone\nPerchance might rival him, his elder far.\nIn his command came fifty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nTwelve ships from Salamis with Ajax came,\nAnd they beside th\u2019 Athenian troops were rang\u2019d.\n\nThose who from Argos, and the well-wall\u2019d town\nOf Tyrins came, and from Hermione,\nAnd Asine, deep-bosom\u2019d in the bay;\nAnd from Troezene and Eione,\nAnd vine-clad Epidaurus; and the youths\nWho dwelt in Mases, and \u00c6gina\u2019s isle;\nO\u2019er all of these the valiant Diomed\nHeld rule; and Sthenelus, th\u2019 illustrious son\nOf far-fam\u2019d Capaneus; with these, the third,\nA godlike warrior came, Euryalus,\nSon of Mecistheus, Talaus\u2019 royal son.\nSupreme o\u2019er all was valiant Diomed.\nIn their command came eighty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nWho in Mycen\u00e6\u2019s well-built fortress dwelt,\nAnd wealthy Corinth, and Cleone fair,\nOrneia, and divine Araethure,\nAnd Sicyon, where Adrastus reign\u2019d of old,\nAnd Gonoessa\u2019s promontory steep,\nAnd Hyperesia, and Pellene\u2019s rock;\n\u00c6gina, and the scatter\u2019d towns that lie\nAlong the beach, and wide-spread Helice;\nOf these a hundred ships obey\u2019d the rule\nOf mighty Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son.\nThe largest and the bravest host was his;\nAnd he himself, in dazzling armour clad,\nO\u2019er all the heroes proudly eminent,\nWent forth exulting in his high estate,\nLord of the largest host, and chief of chiefs.\n\nThose who in Lacedaemon\u2019s lowland plains,\nAnd who in Sparta and in Phare dwelt,\nAnd who on Messa\u2019s dove-frequented cliffs,\nBryseia, and \u00c6gaea\u2019s lovely vale,\nAnd in Amyclae, and the sea-bathed fort\nOf Helos, \u0152tylus and Laas dwelt;\nHis valiant brother Menelaus led,\nWith sixty ships; but ranged apart they lay.\nTheir chief, himself in martial ardour bold,\nInspiring others, fill\u2019d with fierce desire\nThe rape of Helen and his wrongs to avenge.\n\nThey who in Pylos and Arene dwelt,\nAnd Thyrum, by the ford of Alpheus\u2019 stream,\nIn Cyparissus and Amphigene,\nPteleon, and lofty \u0152pus\u2019 well-built fort,\nHelos, and Dorium, where the Muses met,\nAnd put to silence Thracian Thamyris,\nAs from \u0152chalia, from the royal house\nOf Eurytus he came; he, over-bold,\nBoasted himself pre-eminent in song,\nEv\u2019n though the daughters of Olympian Jove,\nThe Muses, were his rivals: they in wrath\nHim of his sight at once and powr\u2019r of song\nAmerc\u2019d, and bade his hand forget the lyre.\nThese by Gerenian Nestor all were led,\nIn fourscore ships and ten in order due.\n\nThey of Arcadia, and the realm that lies\nBeneath Cyllene\u2019s mountain high, around\nThe tomb of \u00c6pytus, a warrior race;\nThe men of Pheneus and Orchomenus\nIn flocks abounding; who in Ripa dwelt,\nIn Stratia, and Enispe\u2019s breezy height,\nOr Tegea held, and sweet Mantinea,\nStymphalus and Parrhasia; these were led\nBy Agapenor brave, Anchaeus\u2019 son,\nIn sixty ships; in each a num\u2019rous crew\nOf stout Arcadian youths, to war inur\u2019d.\nThe ships, wherewith they crossed the dark-blue sea,\nWere giv\u2019n by Agamemnon, King of men,\nThe son of Atreus; for th\u2019 Arcadian youth\nHad ne\u2019er to maritime pursuits been train\u2019d.\n\nWho in Buprasium and in Elis dwelt,\nFar as Hyrmine, and th\u2019 extremest bounds\nOf Myrsinus; and all the realm that lies\nBetween Aleisium and the Olenian rock;\nThese by four chiefs were led; and ten swift ships,\nBy bold Epeians mann\u2019d, each chief obey\u2019d.\nAmphimachus and Thalpius were the first,\nSons of two brothers, Cteatus the one,\nThe other Eurytus, to Actor born;\nNext Amarynceus\u2019 son, Diores bold;\nThe fourth Polyxenus, the godlike son\nOf Augeas\u2019 royal heir, Agasthenes.\n\nThey of Dulichium, and the sacred isles,\nTh\u2019 Echinades, which face, from o\u2019er the sea,\nThe coast of Elis, were by Meges led,\nThe son of Phyleus, dear to Jove, in arms\nValiant as Mars; who, with his sire at feud,\nHad left his home, and to Dulichium come:\nIn his command were forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nThose who from warlike Cephalonia came,\nAnd Ithaca, and leafy Neritus,\nAnd Crocyleium; rugged \u00c6gilips,\nAnd Samos, and Zacynthus, and the coast\nOf the mainland with its opposing isles;\nThese in twelve ships, with scarlet-painted bows,\nUlysses led, in council sage as Jove.\n\nThoas, Andraemon\u2019s son, th\u2019 \u00c6tolians led;\nFrom Pleuron, and Pylone, Olenus,\nChalcis-by-sea, and rocky Calydon:\nThe race of \u0152neus was no more; himself,\nAnd fair-hair\u2019d Meleager, both were dead:\nWhence all \u00c6tolia\u2019s rule on him was laid.\nIn his command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nThe King Idomeneus the Cretans led,\nFrom Cnossus, and Gortyna\u2019s well-wall\u2019d town,\nMiletus, and Lycastus\u2019 white-stone cliffs,\nLyctus, and Phaestus, Rhytium, and the rest\nWhom Crete from all her hundred cities sent:\nThese all Idomeneus, a spearman skill\u2019d,\nTheir King, commanded; and Meriones,\nIn battle terrible as blood-stain\u2019d Mars.\nIn their command came fourscore dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nValiant and tall, the son of Hercules,\nTlepolemus, nine vessels brought from Rhodes,\nBy gallant Rhodians mann\u2019d, who tripartite\nWere settled, and in Ialyssus dwelt,\nIn Lindus, and Cameirus\u2019 white-stone hills.\nThese all renown\u2019d Tlepolemus obey\u2019d,\nWho to the might of Hercules was born\nOf fair Astyoche; his captive she,\nWhen many a goodly town his arms had raz\u2019d,\nWas brought from Ephyra, by Selles\u2019 stream.\nRear\u2019d in the royal house, Tlepolemus,\nIn early youth, his father\u2019s uncle slew,\nA warrior once, but now in life\u2019s decline,\nLycimnius; then in haste a fleet he built,\nMuster\u2019d a num\u2019rous host; and fled, by sea,\nThe threaten\u2019d vengeance of the other sons\nAnd grandsons of the might of Hercules.\nLong wand\u2019rings past, and toils and perils borne,\nTo Rhodes he came; his followers, by their tribes,\nThree districts form\u2019d; and so divided, dwelt,\nBelov\u2019d of Jove, the King of Gods and men,\nWho show\u2019r\u2019d upon them boundless store of wealth.\n\nNireus three well-trimm\u2019d ships from Syme brought;\nNireus, to Charops whom Aglaia bore;\nNireus, the goodliest man of all the Greeks,\nWho came to Troy, save Peleus\u2019 matchless son:\nBut scant his fame, and few the troops he led.\n\nWho in Nisyrus dwelt, and Carpathus,\nAnd Cos, the fortress of Eurypylus,\nAnd in the Casian and Calydnian Isles,\nWere by Phidippus led, and Antiphus,\nTwo sons of Thessalus, Alcides\u2019 son;\nWith them came thirty ships in order due.\n\nNext those who in Pelasgian Argos dwelt,\nAnd who in Alos, and in Alope,\nTrachys, and Phthia, and in Hellas fam\u2019d\nFor women fair; of these, by various names,\nAchaians, Myrmidons, Hellenes, known,\nIn fifty ships, Achilles was the chief.\nBut from the battle-strife these all abstain\u2019d,\nSince none there was to marshal their array.\nFor Peleus\u2019 godlike son, the swift of foot,\nLay idly in his tent, the loss resenting\nOf Brises\u2019 fair-hair\u2019d daughter; whom himself\nHad chosen, prize of all his warlike toil,\nWhen he Lyrnessus and the walls of Thebes\nO\u2019erthrew, and Mynes and Epistrophus\nStruck down, bold warriors both, Evenus\u2019 sons,\nSelepius\u2019 royal heir; for her in wrath,\nHe held aloof, but soon again to appear.\n\nThose in the flow\u2019ry plain of Pyrrhasus,\nTo Ceres dear, who dwelt; in Phylace,\nIn Iton, rich in flocks, and, by the sea,\nIn Antron, and in Pteleon\u2019s grass-clad meads;\nThese led Protesilaus, famed in arms,\nWhile yet he liv\u2019d; now laid beneath the sod.\nIn Phylace were left his weeping wife,\nAnd half-built house; him, springing to the shore,\nFirst of the Greeks, a Dardan warrior slew.\nNor were his troops, their leader though they mourn\u2019d,\nLeft leaderless; the post of high command\nPodarces claim\u2019d of right, true plant of Mars,\nIphiclus\u2019 son, the rich Phylacides;\nThe brother of Protesilaus he,\nYounger in years, nor equal in renown;\nYet of a chief no want the forces felt,\nThough much they mourn\u2019d their valiant leader slain.\nIn his command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nThose who from Pherae came, beside the lake\nBoebeis, and who dwelt in Glaphyrae,\nIn Boebe, and Iolcos\u2019 well-built fort,\nThese in eleven ships Eumelus led,\nWhom Pelias\u2019 daughter, fairest of her race,\nDivine Alcestis to Admetus bore.\n\nWho in Methone and Thaumacia dwelt,\nIn Meliboea and Olizon\u2019s rock;\nThese Philoctetes, skilful archer, led.\nSev\u2019n ships were theirs, and ev\u2019ry ship was mann\u2019d\nBy fifty rowers, skilful archers all.\nBut he, their chief, was lying, rack\u2019d with pain,\nOn Lemnos\u2019 sacred isle; there left perforce\nIn torture from a venomous serpent\u2019s wound:\nThere he in anguish lay: nor long, ere Greeks\nOf royal Philoctetes felt their need.\nYet were his troops, their leader though they mourn\u2019d,\nNot leaderless: Oileus\u2019 bastard son,\nMedon, of Rhene born, their ranks array\u2019d.\n\nWho in \u0152chalia, Eurytus\u2019 domain,\nIn Tricca, and in rough Ithome dwelt,\nThese Podalirius and Machaon led,\nTwo skilful leeches, \u00c6sculapius\u2019 sons.\nOf these came thirty ships in order due.\n\nWho in Ormenium and Asterium dwelt,\nBy Hypereia\u2019s fount, and on the heights\nOf Titanum\u2019s white peaks, of these was chief\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s gallant son;\nIn his command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nWho in Argissa and Gyrtona dwelt,\nOrtha, Elone, and the white-wall\u2019d town\nOf Oloosson, Polypoetes led;\nSon of Pirithous, progeny of Jove,\nA warrior bold; Hippodamia fair\nHim to Pirithous bore, what time he slew\nThe shaggy Centaurs, and from Pelion\u2019s heights\nFor refuge \u2019mid the rude \u00c6thices drove.\nNor he alone; with him to Troy there came\nA scion true of Mars, Leonteus, heir\nOf nobly-born Coronus, Caeneus\u2019 son.\nIn their command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nWith two and twenty vessels Gouneus came\nFrom Cythus; he the Enienes led,\nAnd the Peraebians\u2019 warlike tribes, and those\nWho dwelt around Dodona\u2019s wintry heights,\nOr till\u2019d the soil upon the lovely banks\nOf Titaresius, who to Peneus pours\nThe tribute of his clearly-flowing stream;\nYet mingles not with Peneus\u2019 silver waves,\nBut on the surface floats like oil, his source\nFrom Styx deriving, in whose awful name\nBoth Gods and men by holiest oaths are bound.\n\nMagnesia\u2019s troops, who dwelt by Peneus\u2019 stream,\nOr beneath Pelion\u2019s leafy-quiv\u2019ring shades,\nSwift-footed Prothous led, Tenthredon\u2019s son;\nIn his command came forty dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\n\nThese were the leaders and the chiefs of Greece:\nSay, Muse, of these, who with th\u2019 Atridae came,\nHorses and men, who claim\u2019d the highest praise.\nOf steeds, the bravest and the noblest far\nWere those Eumelus drove, Admetus\u2019 son:\nBoth swift as birds, in age and colour match\u2019d,\nAlike in height, as measur\u2019d o\u2019er the back;\nBoth mares, by Phoebus of the silver bow\nRear\u2019d in Pieria, thunderbolts of war.\nOf men, while yet Achilles held his wrath,\nThe mightiest far was Ajax Telamon.\nFor with Achilles, and the steeds that bore\nThe matchless son of Peleus, none might vie:\nBut \u2019mid his beaked ocean-going ships\nHe lay, with Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nIndignant; while his troops upon the beach\nWith quoits and jav\u2019lins whil\u2019d away the day,\nAnd feats of archery; their steeds the while\nThe lotus-grass and marsh-grown parsley cropp\u2019d,\nEach standing near their car; the well-wrought cars\nLay all unheeded in the warriors\u2019 tents;\nThey, inly pining for their godlike chief,\nRoam\u2019d listless up and down, nor join\u2019d the fray.\n\nSuch was the host, which, like devouring fire,\nO\u2019erspread the land; the earth beneath them groan\u2019d:\nAs when the Lord of thunder, in his wrath,\nThe earth\u2019s foundations shakes, in Arimi,\nWhere, buried deep, \u2019tis said, Typhoeus lies;\nSo at their coming, groan\u2019d beneath their feet\nThe earth, as quickly o\u2019er the plain they spread.\n\nTo Troy, sent down by aegis-bearing Jove,\nWith direful tidings storm-swift Iris came.\nAt Priam\u2019s gate, in solemn conclave met,\nWere gather\u2019d all the Trojans, young and old:\nSwift Iris stood amidst them, and, the voice\nAssuming of Polites, Priam\u2019s son,\nThe Trojan scout, who, trusting to his speed,\nWas posted on the summit of the mound\nOf ancient \u00c6suetes, there to watch\nTill from their ships the Grecian troops should march;\nHis voice assuming, thus the Goddess spoke:\n\u201cOld man, as erst in peace, so still thou lov\u2019st\nThe strife of words; but fearful war is nigh.\nFull many a host in line of battle rang\u2019d\nMy eyes have seen; but such a force as this,\nSo mighty and so vast, I ne\u2019er beheld:\nIn number as the leaves, or as the sand,\nAgainst the city o\u2019er the plain they come.\nThen, Hector, for to thee I chiefly speak,\nThis do; thou know\u2019st how various our allies,\nOf diff\u2019rent nations and discordant tongues:\nLet each then those command o\u2019er whom he reigns,\nAnd his own countrymen in arms array.\u201d\nShe said; and Hector knew the voice divine,\nAnd all, dissolv\u2019d the council, flew to arms,\nThe gates were open\u2019d wide; forth pour\u2019d the crowd,\nBoth foot and horse; and loud the tumult rose.\n\nBefore the city stands a lofty mound,\nIn the mid plain, by open space enclos\u2019d;\nMen call it Batiaea; but the Gods\nThe tomb of swift Myrinna; muster\u2019d there\nThe Trojans and Allies their troops array\u2019d.\n\nThe mighty Hector of the glancing helm,\nThe son of Priam, led the Trojan host:\nThe largest and the bravest band were they,\nBold spearmen all, who follow\u2019d him in arms.\n\nAnchises\u2019 valiant son, \u00c6neas, led\nThe Dardans; him, \u2019mid Ida\u2019s jutting peaks,\nImmortal Venus to Anchises bore,\nA Goddess yielding to a mortal\u2019s love:\nWith him, well skill\u2019d in war, Archilochus\nAnd Acamas, Antenor\u2019s gallant sons.\n\nWho in Zeleia dwelt, at Ida\u2019s foot,\nOf Trojan race, a wealthy tribe, who drank\nOf dark \u00c6sepus\u2019 waters, these were led\nBy Pandarus, Lycaon\u2019s noble son,\nTaught by Apollo\u2019s self to draw the bow.\n\nWho from Adraste, and Apaesus\u2019 realm,\nFrom Pityeia, and the lofty hill\nTereian came, with linen corslets girt,\nAdrastus and Amphius led; two sons\nOf Merops of Percote; deeply vers\u2019d\nWas he in prophecy; and from the war\nWould fain have kept his sons; but they, by fate,\nDoom\u2019d to impending death, his caution scorn\u2019d.\n\nThose who from Practium and Percote came,\nAnd who in Sestos and Abydos dwelt,\nAnd in Arisba fair; those Asius led,\nThe son of Hyrtacus, of heroes chief;\nAsius the son of Hyrtacus, who came\nFrom fair Arisba, borne by fiery steeds\nOf matchless size and strength, from Selles\u2019 stream.\n\nHippothous led the bold Pelasgian tribes,\nWho dwell in rich Larissa\u2019s fertile soil,\nHippothous and Pylaeus, Lethus\u2019 sons,\nThe son of Teutamus, Pelasgian chief.\n\nThe Thracians, by fast-flowing Hellespont\nEncompass\u2019d, Acamas and Peirous brave;\nThe spear-skill\u2019d Cicones Euphemus led,\nSon of Troezenus, Ceus\u2019 highborn son.\n\nFrom distant Amydon Pyraecmes brought\nThe Paeon archers from broad Axius\u2019 banks;\nAxius, the brightest stream on earth that flows.\n\nThe hairy strength of great Pylaemenes\nThe Paphlagonians led from Eneti\n(Whence first appear\u2019d the stubborn race of mules),\nWho in Cytorus and in Sesamum,\nAnd round Parthenius\u2019 waters had their home;\nWho dwelt in Cromne, and \u00c6gialus,\nAnd on the lofty Erythinian rock.\n\nBy Hodius and Epistrophus were brought\nFrom distant Alybe, the wealthy source\nOf silver ore, the Alizonian bands.\n\nChromis the Mysians led, and Ennomus;\nA skilful augur, but his augury\nFrom gloomy death to save him nought avail\u2019d;\nSlain by the son of Peleus, in the stream,\nWhere many another Trojan felt his arm.\n\nFrom far Ascania\u2019s lake, with Phorcys join\u2019d,\nThe godlike presence of Ascanius brought\nThe Phrygians, dauntless in the standing fight.\n\nFrom Lydia came Pylaemenes\u2019 two sons,\nBorn of the lake Gygeian; Antiphus,\nAnd Mesthles; these Maeonia\u2019s forces led,\nWho dwelt around the foot of Tmolus\u2019 hill.\n\nIn charge of Nastes came the Carian troops,\nOf barbarous speech; who in Miletus dwelt,\nAnd in the dense entangled forest shade\nOf Phthira\u2019s hill, and on the lofty ridge\nOf Mycale, and by Maeander\u2019s stream;\nThese came with Nastes and Amphimacus;\nAmphimacus and Nastes, Nomion\u2019s sons;\nWith childish folly to the war he came,\nLaden with store of gold; yet nought avail\u2019d\nHis gold to save him from the doom of death;\nSlain by the son of Peleus in the stream;\nAnd all his wealth Achilles bore away.\n\nSarpedon last, and valiant Glaucus led\nThe Lycian bands, from distant Lycia\u2019s shore,\nBeside the banks of Xanthus\u2019 eddying stream.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE DUEL OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.\n\n\nThe armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon,\nbetween Menelaus and Paris (by the intervention of Hector) for the\ndetermination of the war. Iris is sent to call Helen to behold the\nfight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam sat with his\ncounsellors, observing the Grecian leaders on the plain below, to whom\nHelen gives an account of the chief of them. The kings on either part\ntake the solemn oath for the conditions of the combat. The duel ensues,\nwherein Paris being overcome, is snatched away in a cloud by Venus, and\ntransported to his apartment. She then calls Helen from the walls, and\nbrings the lovers together. Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians,\ndemands the restoration of Helen, and the performance of the articles.\n\nThe three-and-twentieth day still continues throughout this book. The\nscene is sometimes in the field before Troy, and sometimes in Troy\nitself.\n\nBOOK III.\n\nWHEN by their sev\u2019ral chiefs the troops were rang\u2019d,\nWith noise and clamour, as a flight of birds,\nThe men of Troy advanc\u2019d; as when the cranes,\nFlying the wintry storms, send forth on high\nTheir dissonant clamours, while o\u2019er the ocean stream\nThey steer their course, and on their pinions bear\nBattle and death to the Pygmaean race.\n\nOn th\u2019 other side the Greeks in silence mov\u2019d,\nBreathing firm courage, bent on mutual aid.\nAs when the south wind o\u2019er the mountain tops\nSpreads a thick veil of mist, the shepherd\u2019s bane,\nAnd friendly to the nightly thief alone,\nThat a stone\u2019s throw the range of vision bounds;\nSo rose the dust-cloud, as in serried ranks\nWith rapid step they mov\u2019d across the plain.\nBut when th\u2019 opposing forces near were met,\nA panther\u2019s skin across his shoulders flung,\nArm\u2019d with his bow and sword, in front of all\nAdvanc\u2019d the godlike Paris; in his hand\nHe pois\u2019d two brass-tipp\u2019d jav\u2019lins, and defied\nTo mortal combat all the chiefs of Greece.\n\nHim when the warlike Menelaus saw\nWith haughty strides advancing from the crowd;\nAs when a lion, hunger-pinch\u2019d, espies\nSome mighty beast of chase, or antler\u2019d stag,\nOr mountain goat, and with exulting spring\nStrikes down his prey, and on the carcase feeds,\nUnscar\u2019d by baying hounds and eager youths:\nSo Menelaus saw with fierce delight\nThe godlike Paris; for he deem\u2019d that now\nHis vengeance was at hand; and from his car,\nArm\u2019d as he was, he leap\u2019d upon the plain.\nBut when the godlike Paris saw him spring\nDefiant from the ranks, with quailing heart,\nBack to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring crowd he sprang,\nIn fear of death; as when some trav\u2019ller spies,\nCoil\u2019d in his path upon the mountain side,\nA deadly snake, back he recoils in haste,\nHis limbs all trembling, and his cheek all pale;\nSo back recoil\u2019d, in fear of Atreus\u2019 son,\nThe godlike Paris \u2019mid the Trojan host.\n\nTo whom in stern rebuke thus Hector spoke:\n\u201cThou wretched Paris, though in form so fair,\nThou slave of woman, manhood\u2019s counterfeit!\nWould thou hadst ne\u2019er been born, or died at least\nUnwedded; so \u2019twere better far for all,\nThan thus to live a scandal and reproach.\nWell may the long-hair\u2019d Greeks triumphant boast,\nWho think thee, from thine outward show, a chief\nAmong our warriors; but thou hast in truth\nNor strength of mind, nor courage in the fight.\nHow was\u2019t that such as thou could e\u2019er induce\nA noble band, in ocean-going ships\nTo cross the main, with men of other lands\nMixing in amity, and bearing thence\nA woman, fair of face, by marriage ties\nBound to a race of warriors; to thy sire,\nThy state, thy people, cause of endless grief,\nOf triumph to thy foes, contempt to thee!\nDurst thou the warlike Menelaus meet,\nThou to thy cost shouldst learn the might of him\nWhose bride thou didst not fear to bear away:\nThen shouldst thou find of small avail thy lyre,\nOr Venus\u2019 gifts of beauty and of grace,\nOr, trampled in the dust, thy flowing hair.\nBut too forbearing are the men of Troy;\nElse for the ills that thou hast wrought the state,\nEre now thy body had in stone been cas\u2019d.\u201d\n\nTo whom the godlike Paris thus replied:\n\u201cHector, I needs must own thy censure just,\nNor without cause; thy dauntless courage knows\nNor pause nor weariness; but as an axe,\nThat in a strong man\u2019s hand, who fashions out\nSome naval timber, with unbated edge\nCleaves the firm wood, and aids the striker\u2019s force;\nEv\u2019n so unwearied is thy warlike soul.\nYet blame not me for golden Venus\u2019 gifts:\nThe gifts of Heav\u2019n are not to be despis\u2019d,\nWhich Heav\u2019n may give, but man could not command.\nBut if thou wilt that I should dare the fight,\nBid that the Trojans and the Grecians all\nBe seated on the ground; and in the midst\nThe warlike Menelaus and myself\nStand front to front, for Helen and the spoils\nOf war to combat; and whoe\u2019er shall prove\nThe better man in conflict, let him bear\nThe woman and the spoils in triumph home;\nWhile ye, the rest, in peace and friendship sworn,\nShall still possess the fertile plains of Troy;\nAnd to their native Argos they return,\nFor noble steeds and lovely women fam\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and Hector joy\u2019d to hear his words:\nForth in the midst he stepp\u2019d, and with his spear\nGrasp\u2019d by the middle, stay\u2019d the Trojan ranks.\nAt him the long-haired Grecians bent their bows,\nPrompt to assail with arrows and with stones;\nBut loud the monarch Agamemnon\u2019s voice\nWas heard; \u201cHold, Argives, hold! ye sons of Greece,\nShoot not! for Hector of the glancing helm\nHath, as it seems, some message to impart.\u201d\n\nHe said; they held their hands, and silent stood\nExpectant, till to both thus Hector spoke:\n\u201cHear now, ye Trojans, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nThe words of Paris, cause of all this war.\nHe asks through me that all the host of Troy\nAnd Grecian warriors shall upon the ground\nLay down their glitt\u2019ring arms; while in the midst\nThe warlike Menelaus and himself\nStand front to front, for Helen and the spoils\nOf war to combat; and whoe\u2019er shall prove\nThe better man in conflict, let him bear\nThe woman and the spoils in triumph home,\nWhile we, the rest, firm peace and friendship swear.\u201d\n\nThus Hector spoke; the rest in silence heard;\nBut Menelaus, bold in fight, replied:\n\u201cHear now my answer; in this quarrel I\nMay claim the chiefest share; and now I hope\nTrojans and Greeks may see the final close\nOf all the labours ye so long have borne\nT\u2019 avenge my wrong, at Paris\u2019 hand sustain\u2019d.\nAnd of us two whiche\u2019er is doom\u2019d to death,\nSo let him die! the rest, depart in peace.\nBring then two lambs, one white, the other black,\nFor Tellus and for Sol; we on our part\nWill bring another, for Saturnian Jove:\nAnd let the majesty of Priam too\nAppear, himself to consecrate our oaths,\n(For reckless are his sons, and void of faith,)\nThat none Jove\u2019s oath may dare to violate.\nFor young men\u2019s spirits are too quickly stirr\u2019d;\nBut in the councils check\u2019d by rev\u2019rend age,\nAlike are weigh\u2019d the future and the past,\nAnd for all int\u2019rests due provision made.\u201d\n\nHe said, and Greeks and Trojans gladly heard,\nIn hopes of respite from the weary war.\nThey rang\u2019d the cars in ranks; and they themselves\nDescending doff\u2019d their arms, and laid them down\nClose each by each, with narrow space between.\nTwo heralds to the city Hector sent\nTo bring the lambs, and aged Priam call;\nWhile Agamemnon to the hollow ships,\nTheir lamb to bring, in haste Talthybius sent:\nHe heard, and straight the monarch\u2019s voice obey\u2019d.\n\nMeantime to white-arm\u2019d Helen Iris sped,\nThe heav\u2019nly messenger: in form she seem\u2019d\nHer husband\u2019s sister, whom Antenor\u2019s son,\nThe valiant Helicaon had to wife,\nLaodice, of Priam\u2019s daughters all\nLoveliest of face: she in her chamber found\nHer whom she sought: a mighty web she wove,\nOf double woof and brilliant hues; whereon\nWas interwoven many a toilsome strife\nOf Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks,\nFor her encounter\u2019d at the hand of Mars.\nBeside her Iris stood, and thus she spoke:\n\u201cCome, sister dear, and see the glorious deeds\nOf Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks.\nThey who erewhile, impatient for the fight,\nRoll\u2019d o\u2019er the plain the woful tide of war,\nNow silent sit, the storm of battle hush\u2019d,\nReclining on their shields, their lances bright\nBeside them reared; while Paris in the midst\nAnd warlike Menelaus, stand prepar\u2019d\nWith the long spear for thee to fight; thyself\nThe prize of conquest and the victor\u2019s wife.\u201d\n\nThus as she spoke, in Helen\u2019s breast arose\nFond recollection of her former Lord,\nHer home, and parents; o\u2019er her head she threw\nA snowy veil; and shedding tender tears\nShe issu\u2019d forth, not unaccompanied;\nFor with her went fair \u00c6thra, Pittheus\u2019 child,\nAnd stag-ey\u2019d Clymene, her maidens twain.\nThey quickly at the Scaean gate arriv\u2019d.\n\nAttending there on aged Priam, sat,\nThe Elders of the city; Panthous,\nAnd Lampus, and Thymaetes; Clytius,\nBold Icetaon, and Ucalegon,\nWith sage Antenor, wise in council both:\nAll these were gather\u2019d at the Scaean gate;\nBy age exempt from war, but in discourse\nAbundant, as the cricket, that on high\nFrom topmost boughs of forest tree sends forth\nHis delicate music; so on Ilium\u2019s tow\u2019rs\nSat the sage chiefs and councillors of Troy.\nHelen they saw, as to the tow\u2019r she came;\nAnd \u201c\u2019tis no marvel,\u201d one to other said,\n\u201cThe valiant Trojans and the well-greav\u2019d Greeks\nFor beauty such as this should long endure\nThe toils of war; for goddess-like she seems;\nAnd yet, despite her beauty, let her go,\nNor bring on us and on our sons a curse.\u201d\n\nThus they; but aged Priam Helen call\u2019d:\n\u201cCome here, my child, and sitting by my side,\nFrom whence thou canst discern thy former Lord,\nHis kindred, and thy friends (not thee I blame,\nBut to the Gods I owe this woful war),\nTell me the name of yonder mighty chief\nAmong the Greeks a warrior brave and strong:\nOthers in height surpass him; but my eyes\nA form so noble never yet beheld,\nNor so august; he moves, a King indeed!\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer, Helen, heav\u2019nly fair:\n\u201cWith rev\u2019rence, dearest father, and with shame\nI look on thee: oh would that I had died\nThat day when hither with thy son I came,\nAnd left my husband, friends, and darling child,\nAnd all the lov\u2019d companions of my youth:\nThat I died not, with grief I pine away.\nBut to thy question; I will tell thee true;\nYon chief is Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nWide-reigning, mighty monarch, ruler good,\nAnd valiant warrior; in my husband\u2019s name,\nLost as I am, I call\u2019d him brother once.\u201d\n\nShe spoke: th\u2019 old man admiring gaz\u2019d, and cried,\n\u201cOh bless\u2019d Atrides, child of happy fate,\nFavour\u2019d of Heav\u2019n! how many noble Greeks\nObey thy rule! In vine-clad Phrygia once\nI saw the hosts of Phrygian warriors wheel\nTheir rapid steeds; and with them, all the bands\nOf Otreus, and of Mygdon, godlike King,\nWho lay encamp\u2019d beside Sangarius\u2019 stream:\nI too with them was number\u2019d, in the day\nWhen met them in the field the Amazons,\nThe woman-warriors; but their forces all\nReach\u2019d not the number of the keen-ey\u2019d Greeks.\u201d\n\nUlysses next the old man saw, and ask\u2019d,\n\u201cTell me again, dear child, who this may be,\nIn stature less than Atreus\u2019 royal son,\nBut broader-shoulder\u2019d, and of ampler chest.\nHis arms are laid upon the fertile plain,\nBut he himself is moving through the ranks,\nInspecting, like a full-fleec\u2019d ram, that moves\nMajestic through a flock of snow-white ewes.\u201d\n\nTo whom Jove\u2019s offspring, Helen, thus replied:\n\u201cThe wise Ulysses that, Laertes\u2019 son:\nThough bred in rugged Ithaca, yet vers\u2019d\nIn ev\u2019ry stratagem, and deep device.\u201d\n\u201cO woman,\u201d then the sage Antenor said,\n\u201cOf these thy words I can the truth avouch;\nFor hither when on thine account to treat,\nBrave Menelaus and Ulysses came,\nI lodg\u2019d them in my house, and lov\u2019d them both,\nAnd studied well the form and mind of each.\nAs they with Trojans mix\u2019d in social guise,\nWhen both were standing, o\u2019er his comrade high\nWith broad-set shoulders Menelaus stood;\nSeated, Ulysses was the nobler form:\nThen, in the great Assembly, when to all\nTheir public speech and argument they fram\u2019d,\nIn fluent language Menelaus spoke,\nIn words though few, yet clear; though young in years,\nNo wordy babbler, wasteful of his speech:\nBut when the skill\u2019d Ulysses rose to speak,\nWith down-cast visage would he stand, his eyes\nBent on the ground; the staff he bore, nor back\nHe wav\u2019d, nor forward, but like one untaught,\nHe held it motionless; who only saw\nWould say that he was mad, or void of sense;\nBut when his chest its deep-ton\u2019d voice sent forth,\nWith words that fell like flakes of wintry snow,\nNo mortal with Ulysses could compare:\nThen little reck\u2019d we of his outward show.\u201d\n\nAt sight of Ajax next th\u2019 old man enquir\u2019d;\n\u201cWho is yon other warrior, brave and strong,\nTow\u2019ring o\u2019er all with head and shoulders broad?\u201d\n\nTo whom, in answer, Helen, heav\u2019nly fair:\n\u201cGigantic Ajax that, the prop of Greece;\nAnd by his side Idomeneus of Crete\nStands godlike, circled round by Cretan chiefs.\nThe warlike Menelaus welcom\u2019d him\nOft in our palace, when from Crete he came.\nNow all the other keen-ey\u2019d Greeks I see,\nWhom once I knew, and now could call by name;\nBut two I miss, two captains of the host,\nMy own two brethren, and my mother\u2019s sons,\nCastor and Pollux; Castor, charioteer\nUnrivalled, Pollux, matchless pugilist.\nIn Lacedaemon have they stay\u2019d behind?\nOr can it be, in ocean-going ships\nThat they have come indeed, but shun to join\nThe fight of warriors, fearful of the shame,\nAnd deep disgrace that on my name attend?\u201d\nThus she; but they beneath the teeming earth\nIn Lacedaemon lay, their native land.\n\nMeanwhile the heralds through the city bore\nThe treaty off\u2019rings to the Gods; the lambs,\nAnd genial wine, the produce of the soil,\nIn goat-skin flasks: therewith a flagon bright,\nAnd cups of gold, Idaeus brought, and stood\nBeside the aged King, as thus he spoke:\n\u201cSon of Laomedon, arise! the chiefs\nOf Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks\nCall for thy presence on the battle-plain\nTo swear a truce; where Paris in the midst\nAnd warlike Menelaus stand prepar\u2019d\nWith the long spear for Helen and the spoils\nOf war to combat, that whoe\u2019er may prove\nThe better man in fight, may bear away\nThe woman and the spoils in triumph home;\nWhile we, the rest, in peace and friendship sworn,\nShall still possess the fertile plains of Troy;\nAnd to their native Argos they return.\nFor noble steeds and lovely women fam\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said; the old man shuddered at his words:\nBut to his comrades gave command forthwith.\nTo yoke his car; and they his word obey\u2019d.\nPriam, ascending, gather\u2019d up the reins,\nAnd with Antenor by his side, the twain\nDrove through the Scaean gate their flying steeds.\n\nBut when between th\u2019 opposing ranks they came,\nAlighting from the car, they mov\u2019d on foot\nBetween the Trojan and the Grecian hosts.\nUprose then Agamemnon, King of men,\nUprose the sage Ulysses; to the front\nThe heralds brought the off\u2019rings to the Gods,\nAnd in the flagon mix\u2019d the wine, and pour\u2019d\nThe hallowing water on the monarchs\u2019 hands.\nHis dagger then the son of Atreus drew,\nSuspended, as was wont, beside the hilt\nOf his great sword; and from the victim\u2019s head\nHe cut the sacred lock, which to the chiefs\nOf Troy and Greece the heralds portion\u2019d out.\nThen with uplifted hands he pray\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cO Father Jove! who rul\u2019st from Ida\u2019s height,\nMost great! most glorious! and thou Sun, who see\u2019st\nAnd hearest all things! Rivers! and thou Earth!\nAnd ye, who after death beneath the earth\nYour vengeance wreak on souls of men forsworn,\nBe witness ye, and this our cov\u2019nant guard.\nIf Menelaus fall by Paris\u2019 hand,\nLet him retain both Helen and the spoil,\nWhile in our ships we take our homeward way;\nIf Paris be by Menelaus slain,\nTroy shall surrender Helen and the spoil,\nWith compensation due to Greece, that so\nA record may to future days remain.\nBut, Paris slain, if Priam and his sons\nThe promis\u2019d compensation shall withhold,\nThen here, my rights in battle to assert,\nWill I remain, till I the end achieve.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, across the victims\u2019 throats\nHe drew the pitiless blade, and on the ground\nHe laid them gasping, as the stream of life\nPour\u2019d forth, their vigour by the blade subdued.\nThen, from the flagon drawn, from out the cups\nThe wine they pour\u2019d; and to th\u2019 eternal Gods\nThey pray\u2019d; and thus from Trojans and from Greeks\nArose the joint petition; \u201cGrant, O Jove!\nMost great! most glorious! grant, ye heav\u2019nly pow\u2019rs,\nThat whosoe\u2019er this solemn truce shall break,\nEv\u2019n as this wine we pour, their hearts\u2019 best blood,\nTheirs and their children\u2019s, on the earth be pour\u2019d,\nAnd strangers in subjection take their wives!\u201d\n\nThus they; but Jove, unyielding, heard their pray\u2019r.\nThe rites perform\u2019d, then aged Priam spoke:\n\u201cHear me, ye Trojans, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks!\nTo Ilium\u2019s breezy heights I now withdraw,\nFor that mine eyes will not endure the sight\nOf warlike Menelaus and my son\nEngag\u2019d in deadly combat; of the two\nWhich may be doom\u2019d to death, is only known\nTo Jove, and to th\u2019 immortal pow\u2019rs of Heav\u2019n.\u201d\n\nThus spoke the godlike King; and on the car\nHe plac\u2019d the consecrated lambs; himself\nAscending then, he gather\u2019d up the reins,\nAnd with Antenor by his side, the twain\nTo Ilium\u2019s walls retrac\u2019d their homeward way.\n\nThen Hector, son of Priam, measur\u2019d out,\nWith sage Ulysses join\u2019d, th\u2019 allotted space;\nNext, in the brass-bound helmet cast the lots,\nWhich of the two the first should throw the spear.\nThe crowd, with hands uplifted, to the Gods,\nTrojans and Greeks alike, address\u2019d their pray\u2019r:\n\u201cO Father Jove! who rul\u2019st from Ida\u2019s height,\nMost great! most glorious! grant that whosoe\u2019er\nOn both our armies hath this turmoil brought\nMay undergo the doom of death, and we,\nThe rest, firm peace and lasting friendship swear.\u201d\n\nThus they; great Hector of the glancing helm,\nWith eyes averted, shook the casque; and forth\nWas cast the lot of Paris; on the ground\nThe rest lay down by ranks, where near to each\nWere rang\u2019d his active steeds, and glitt\u2019ring arms.\nThen o\u2019er his shoulders fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord,\nThe godlike Paris, donn\u2019d his armour bright:\nFirst on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix\u2019d,\nFasten\u2019d with silver clasps; his ample chest\nA breastplate guarded, by Lycaon lent,\nHis brother, but which fitted well his form.\nAround his shoulders slung, his sword he bore,\nBrass-bladed, silver-studded; then his shield\nWeighty and strong; and on his firm-set head\nA helm he wore, well wrought, with horsehair plume\nThat nodded, fearful, o\u2019er his brow; his hand\nGrasp\u2019d the firm spear, familiar to his hold.\nPrepar\u2019d alike the adverse warrior stood.\n\nThey, from the crowd apart their armour donn\u2019d,\nCame forth: and each, with eyes of mutual hate,\nRegarded each: admiring wonder seiz\u2019d\nThe Trojan warriors and the well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nAs in the centre of the measur\u2019d ground\nThey stood oppos\u2019d, and pois\u2019d their quiv\u2019ring spears.\nFirst Paris threw his weighty spear, and struck\nFair in the midst Atrides\u2019 buckler round,\nBut broke not through; upon the stubborn targe\nWas bent the lance\u2019s point; then thus to Jove,\nHis weapon hurling, Menelaus pray\u2019d:\n\u201cGreat King, on him who wrought me causeless wrong,\nOn Paris, grant that retribution due\nMy arm may bring; that men in days to come\nMay fear their host to injure, and repay\nWith treach\u2019rous wile his hospitable cares.\u201d\n\nHe said, and poising, hurl\u2019d his weighty spear:\nFull in the midst it struck the buckler round;\nRight through the buckler pass\u2019d the sturdy spear,\nAnd through the gorgeous breastplate, and within\nCut through the linen vest; but Paris, back\nInclining, stoop\u2019d, and shunn\u2019d the doom of death.\n\nAtrides then his silver-studded sword\nRearing on high, a mighty blow let fall\nOn Paris\u2019 helm; but shiv\u2019ring in his hand\nIn countless fragments new the faithless blade.\nThen thus to Jove, with eyes uplift to Heav\u2019n,\nAtrides made his moan: \u201cO Father Jove!\nOf all the Gods, the most unfriendly thou!\nOn Paris\u2019 head I hop\u2019d for all his crimes\nTo wreak my vengeance due; but in my grasp\nMy faithless sword is shatter\u2019d, and my spear\nHath bootless left my hand, nor reached my foe.\u201d\nThen onward rushing, by the horsehair plume\nHe seiz\u2019d his foeman\u2019s helm, and wrenching round\nDragg\u2019d by main force amid the well-greav\u2019d Greeks.\nThe broider\u2019d strap, that, pass\u2019d beneath his beard,\nThe helmet held, the warrior\u2019s throat compress\u2019d:\nThen had Atrides dragg\u2019d him from the field,\nAnd endless fame acquir\u2019d; but Venus, child\nOf Jove, her fav\u2019rite\u2019s peril quickly saw.\nAnd broke the throttling strap of tough bull\u2019s hide.\nIn the broad hand the empty helm remained.\nThe trophy, by their champion whirl\u2019d amid\nThe well-greav\u2019d Greeks, his eager comrades seiz\u2019d;\nWhile he, infuriate, rush\u2019d with murd\u2019rous aim\nOn Priam\u2019s son; but him, the Queen of Love\n(As Gods can only) from the field convey\u2019d,\nWrapt in a misty cloud; and on a couch,\nSweet perfumes breathing, gently laid him down;\nThen went in search of Helen; her she found,\nCircled with Trojan dames, on Ilium\u2019s tow\u2019r:\nHer by her airy robe the Goddess held,\nAnd in the likeness of an aged dame\nWho oft for her, in Sparta when she dwelt,\nMany a fair fleece had wrought, and lov\u2019d her well,\nAddress\u2019d her thus: \u201cCome, Helen, to thy house;\nCome, Paris calls thee; in his chamber he\nExpects thee, resting on luxurious couch,\nIn costly garb, with manly beauty grac\u2019d:\nNot from the fight of warriors wouldst thou deem\nHe late had come, but for the dance prepar\u2019d,\nOr resting from the dance\u2019s pleasing toil.\u201d\n\nShe said, and Helen\u2019s spirit within her mov\u2019d;\nAnd when she saw the Goddess\u2019 beauteous neck,\nHer lovely bosom, and her glowing eyes,\nShe gaz\u2019d in wonder, and address\u2019d her thus:\n\u201cOh why, great Goddess, make me thus thy sport?\nSeek\u2019st thou to bear me far away from hence\nTo some fair Phrygian or Maeonian town,\nIf there some mortal have thy favour gain\u2019d?\nOr, for that Menelaus in the field\nHath vanquish\u2019d Paris, and is willing yet\nThat I, his bane, should to his home return;\nHere art thou found, to weave again thy wiles!\nGo then thyself! thy godship abdicate!\nRenounce Olympus! lavish here on him\nThy pity and thy care! he may perchance\nMake thee his wife\u2014at least his paramour!\nBut thither go not I! foul shame it were\nAgain to share his bed; the dames of Troy\nWill for a byword hold me; and e\u2019en now\nMy soul with endless sorrow is possess\u2019d.\u201d\n\nTo whom in anger heav\u2019nly Venus spoke:\n\u201cIncense me not, poor fool! lest I in wrath\nDesert thee quite, and as I heretofore\nHave lov\u2019d, so make thee object of my hate;\nAnd kindle, \u2019twixt the Trojans and the Greeks,\nSuch bitter feuds, as both shall wreak on thee.\u201d\n\nShe said; and trembled Helen, child of Jove;\nShe rose in silence; in a snow-white veil\nAll glitt\u2019ring, shrouded; by the Goddess led\nShe pass\u2019d, unnotic\u2019d by the Trojan dames.\nBut when to Paris\u2019 splendid house they came,\nThronging around her, her attendants gave\nTheir duteous service; through the lofty hall\nWith queenly grace the godlike woman pass\u2019d.\nA seat the laughter-loving Goddess plac\u2019d\nBy Paris\u2019 side; there Helen sat, the child\nOf aegis-bearing Jove, with downcast eyes,\nYet with sharp words she thus address\u2019d her Lord:\n\u201cBack from the battle? would thou there hadst died\nBeneath a warrior\u2019s arm, whom once I call\u2019d\nMy husband! vainly didst thou boast erewhile\nThine arm, thy dauntless courage, and thy spear\nThe warlike Menelaus should subdue!\nGo now again, and challenge to the fight\nThe warlike Menelaus. Be thou ware!\nI warn thee, pause, ere madly thou presume\nWith fair-hair\u2019d Menelaus to contend!\nSoon shouldst thou fall beneath his conqu\u2019ring spear.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Paris: \u201cWring not thus my soul\nWith keen reproaches: now, with Pallas\u2019 aid,\nHath Menelaus conquer\u2019d; but my day\nWill come: I too can boast my guardian Gods.\nBut turn we now to love, and love\u2019s delights;\nFor never did thy beauty so inflame\nMy sense; not when from Lacedaemon first\nI bore thee in my ocean-going ships,\nAnd revell\u2019d in thy love on Cranae\u2019s isle,\nAs now it fills my soul with fond desire.\u201d\n\nHe said, and led her to the nuptial couch;\nHer Lord she follow\u2019d; and while there reclin\u2019d\nUpon the richly-inlaid couch they lay,\nAtrides, like a lion baffled, rush\u2019d\nAmid the crowd, if haply he might find\nThe godlike Paris; but not one of all\nThe Trojans and their brave allies could aid\nThe warlike Menelaus in his search;\nNot that, for love, would any one that knew\nHave screen\u2019d him from his anger, for they all\nAbhorr\u2019d him as the shade of death: then thus\nOutspoke great Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cHear me, ye Trojans, Dardans, and Allies!\nWith warlike Menelaus rests, \u2019tis plain,\nThe prize of vict\u2019ry: then surrender ye\nThe Argive Helen and the spoils of war,\nWith compensation due to Greece, that so\nA record may to future days remain.\u201d\n\nThus he; the Greeks, assenting, cheer\u2019d his words.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE BREACH OF THE TRUCE, AND THE FIRST BATTLE.\n\n\nThe Gods deliberate in council concerning the Trojan war: they agree\nupon the continuation of it, and Jupiter sends down Minerva to break\nthe truce. She persuades Pandarus to aim an arrow at Menelaus, who is\nwounded, but cured by Machaon. In the mean time some of the Trojan\ntroops attack the Greeks. Agamemnon is distinguished in all the parts\nof a good general; he reviews the troops, and exhorts the leaders, some\nby praises, and others by reproofs. Nestor is particularly celebrated\nfor his military discipline. The battle joins, and great numbers are\nslain on both sides.\n\nThe same day continues through this, as through the last book; as it\ndoes also through the two following, and almost to the end of the\nseventh book. The scene is wholly in the field before Troy.\n\nBOOK IV.\n\nOn golden pavement, round the board of Jove,\nThe Gods were gather\u2019d; Hebe in the midst\nPour\u2019d the sweet nectar; they, in golden cups,\nEach other pledg\u2019d, as down they look\u2019d on Troy.\nThen Jove, with cutting words and taunting tone,\nBegan the wrath of Juno to provoke:\n\u201cTwo Goddesses for Menelaus fight,\nThou, Juno, Queen of Argos, and with thee\nMinerva, shield of warriors; but ye two\nSitting aloof, well-pleased it seems, look on;\nWhile laughter-loving Venus, at the side\nOf Paris standing, still averts his fate,\nAnd rescues, when, as now, expecting death.\nTo warlike Menelaus we decree,\nOf right, the vict\u2019ry; but consult we now\nWhat may the issue be; if we shall light\nAgain the name of war and discord fierce,\nOr the two sides in peace and friendship join.\nFor me, if thus your gen\u2019ral voice incline,\nLet Priam\u2019s city stand, and Helen back\nTo warlike Menelaus be restor\u2019d.\u201d\n\nSo spoke the God; but seated side by side,\nJuno and Pallas glances interchang\u2019d\nOf ill portent for Troy; Pallas indeed\nSat silent; and, though inly wroth with Jove,\nYet answer\u2019d not a word; but Juno\u2019s breast\nCould not contain her rage, and thus she spoke:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nHow wouldst thou render vain, and void of fruit,\nMy weary labour and my horses\u2019 toil,\nTo stir the people, and on Priam\u2019s self,\nAnd Priam\u2019s offspring, bring disastrous fate?\nDo as thou wilt! yet not with our consent.\u201d\n\nTo whom, in wrath, the Cloud-compeller thus:\n\u201cRevengeful! how have Priam and his sons\nSo deeply injur\u2019d thee, that thus thou seek\u2019st\nWith unabated anger to pursue,\nTill thou o\u2019erthrow, the strong-built walls of Troy?\nCouldst thou but force the gates, and entering in\nOn Priam\u2019s mangled flesh, and Priam\u2019s sons,\nAnd Trojans all, a bloody banquet make.\nPerchance thy fury might at length be stayed.\nBut have thy will, lest this in future times\n\u2019Twixt me and thee be cause of strife renew\u2019d.\nYet hear my words, and ponder what I say:\nIf e\u2019er, in times to come, my will should be\nSome city to destroy, inhabited\nBy men beloved of thee, seek not to turn\nMy wrath aside, but yield, as I do now,\nConsenting, but with heart that ill consents;\nFor of all cities fair, beneath the sun\nAnd starry Heaven, the abode of mortal men,\nNone to my soul was dear as sacred Troy,\nAnd Priam\u2019s self, and Priam\u2019s warrior race.\nFor with drink-off\u2019rings due, and fat of lambs,\nMy altar still hath at their hands been fed;\nSuch honour hath to us been ever paid.\u201d\n\nTo whom the stag-ey\u2019d Juno thus replied:\n\u201cThree cities are there, dearest to my heart;\nArgos, and Sparta, and the ample streets\nOf rich Mycen\u00e6; work on them thy will;\nDestroy them, if thine anger they incur;\nI will not interpose, nor hinder thee;\nMourn them I shall; reluctant see their fall,\nBut not resist; for sovereign is thy will.\nYet should my labours not be fruitless all;\nFor I too am a God; my blood is thine;\nWorthy of honour, as the eldest born\nOf deep-designing Saturn, and thy wife;\nThine, who o\u2019er all th\u2019 Immortals reign\u2019st supreme.\nBut yield we each to other, I to thee,\nAnd thou to me; the other Gods will all\nBy us be rul\u2019d. On Pallas then enjoin\nThat to the battle-field of Greece and Troy\nShe haste, and so contrive that Trojans first\nMay break the treaty, and the Greeks assail.\u201d\n\nShe said: the Sire of Gods and men complied,\nAnd thus with winged words to Pallas spoke:\n\u201cGo to the battle-field of Greece and Troy\nIn haste, and so contrive that Trojans first\nMay break the treaty, and the Greeks assail.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh impulse gave to Pallas\u2019 zeal,\nAnd from Olympus\u2019 heights in haste she sped;\nLike to a meteor, that, of grave portent\nTo warring armies or sea-faring men,\nThe son of deep-designing Saturn sends,\nBright-flashing, scatt\u2019ring fiery sparks around,\nThe blue-ey\u2019d Goddess darted down to earth,\nAnd lighted in the midst; amazement held\nThe Trojan warriors and the well-greav\u2019d Greeks;\nAnd one to other look\u2019d and said, \u201cWhat means\nThis sign? Must fearful battle rage again,\nOr may we hope for gentle peace from Jove,\nWho to mankind dispenses peace and war?\u201d\nSuch was the converse Greeks and Trojans held.\nPallas meanwhile, amid the Trojan host,\nClad in the likeness of Antenor\u2019s son,\nLaodocus, a spearman stout and brave,\nSearch\u2019d here and there, if haply she might find\nThe godlike Pandarus; Lycaon\u2019s son\nShe found, of noble birth and stalwart form,\nStanding, encircled by his sturdy band\nOf bucklered followers from \u00c6sepus\u2019 stream,\nShe stood beside him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cWilt thou by me be ruled, Lycaon\u2019s son?\nFor durst thou but at Menelaus shoot\nThy winged arrow, great would be thy fame,\nAnd great thy favour with the men of Troy,\nAnd most of all with Paris; at his hand\nThou shalt receive rich guerdon, when he hears\nThat warlike Menelaus, by thy shaft\nSubdued, is laid upon the fun\u2019ral pyre.\nBend then thy bow at Atreus\u2019 glorious son,\nVowing to Phoebus, Lycia\u2019s guardian God,\nThe Archer-King, to pay of firstling lambs\nAn ample hecatomb, when home return\u2019d\nIn safety to Zeleia\u2019s sacred town.\u201d\nThus she; and, fool, he listen\u2019d to her words.\nStraight he uncas\u2019d his polish\u2019d bow, his spoil\nWon from a mountain ibex, which himself,\nIn ambush lurking, through the breast had shot,\nTrue to his aim, as from behind a crag\nHe came in sight; prone on the rock he fell;\nWith horns of sixteen palms his head was crown\u2019d;\nThese deftly wrought a skilful workman\u2019s hand,\nAnd polish\u2019d smooth, and tipp\u2019d the ends with gold.\nHe bent, and resting on the ground his bow,\nStrung it anew; his faithful comrades held\nTheir shields before him, lest the sons of Greece\nShould make their onset ere his shaft could reach\nThe warlike Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son.\nHis quiver then withdrawing from its case,\nWith care a shaft he chose, ne\u2019er shot before,\nWell-feather\u2019d, messenger of pangs and death;\nThe stinging arrow fitted to the string,\nAnd vow\u2019d to Phoebus, Lycia\u2019s guardian God,\nThe Archer-King, to pay of firstling lambs\nAn ample hecatomb, when home return\u2019d\nIn safety to Zeleia\u2019s sacred town.\nAt once the sinew and the notch he drew;\nThe sinew to his breast, and to the bow\nThe iron head; then, when the mighty bow\nWas to a circle strain\u2019d, sharp rang the horn,\nAnd loud the sinew twang\u2019d, as tow\u2019rd the crowd\nWith deadly speed the eager arrow sprang.\n\nNor, Menelaus, was thy safety then\nUncar\u2019d for of the Gods; Jove\u2019s daughter first,\nPallas, before thee stood, and turn\u2019d aside\nThe pointed arrow; turn\u2019d it so aside\nAs when a mother from her infant\u2019s cheek,\nWrapt in sweet slumbers, brushes off a fly;\nIts course she so directed that it struck\nJust where the golden clasps the belt restrain\u2019d,\nAnd where the breastplate, doubled, check\u2019d its force.\nOn the close-fitting belt the arrow struck;\nRight through the belt of curious workmanship\nIt drove, and through the breastplate richly wrought,\nAnd through the coat of mail he wore beneath,\nHis inmost guard and best defence to check\nThe hostile weapons\u2019 force; yet onward still\nThe arrow drove, and graz\u2019d the hero\u2019s flesh.\nForth issued from the wound the crimson blood.\nAs when some Carian or Maeonian maid,\nWith crimson dye the ivory stains, designed\nTo be the cheek-piece of a warrior\u2019s steed,\nBy many a valiant horseman coveted,\nAs in the house it lies, a monarch\u2019s boast,\nThe horse adorning, and the horseman\u2019s pride:\nSo, Menelaus, then thy graceful thighs,\nAnd knees, and ancles, with thy blood were dy\u2019d.\n\nGreat Agamemnon shudder\u2019d as he saw\nThe crimson drops out-welling from the wound;\nShudder\u2019d the warlike Menelaus\u2019 self;\nBut when not buried in his flesh he saw\nThe barb and sinew, back his spirit came.\n\nThen deeply groaning, Agamemnon spoke,\nAs Menelaus by the hand he held,\nAnd with him groan\u2019d his comrades: \u201cBrother dear,\nI wrought thy death when late, on compact sworn,\nI sent thee forth alone for Greece to fight;\nWounded by Trojans, who their plighted faith\nHave trodden under foot; but not in vain\nAre solemn cov\u2019nants and the blood of lambs,\nThe treaty wine outpoured, and hand-plight given,\nWherein men place their trust; if not at once,\nYet soon or late will Jove assert their claim;\nAnd heavy penalties the perjured pay\nWith their own blood, their children\u2019s, and their wives\u2019.\nSo in my inmost soul full well I know\nThe day shall come when this imperial Troy,\nAnd Priam\u2019s race, and Priam\u2019s royal self,\nShall in one common ruin be o\u2019erthrown;\nAnd Saturn\u2019s son himself, high-throned Jove,\nWho dwells in Heav\u2019n, shall in their faces flash\nHis aegis dark and dread, this treach\u2019rous deed\nAvenging; this shall surely come to pass.\nBut, Menelaus, deep will be my grief,\nIf thou shouldst perish, meeting thus thy fate.\nTo thirsty Argos should I then return\nBy foul disgrace o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d; for, with thy fall,\nThe Greeks will mind them of their native land;\nAnd as a trophy to the sons of Troy\nThe Argive Helen leave; thy bones meanwhile\nShall moulder here beneath a foreign soil.\nThy work undone; and with insulting scorn\nSome vaunting Trojan, leaping on the tomb\nOf noble Menelaus, thus shall say:\n\u2018On all his foes may Agamemnon so\nHis wrath accomplish, who hath hither led\nOf Greeks a mighty army, all in vain;\nAnd bootless home with empty ships hath gone,\nAnd valiant Menelaus left behind;\u2019\nThus when men speak, gape, earth, and hide my shame.\u201d\n\nTo whom the fair-hair\u2019d Menelaus thus\nWith, cheering words: \u201cFear not thyself, nor cause\nThe troops to fear: the arrow hath not touch\u2019d\nA vital part: the sparkling belt hath first\nTurn\u2019d it aside, the doublet next beneath,\nAnd coat of mail, the work of arm\u2019rer\u2019s hands.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cDear Menelaus, may thy words be true!\nThe leech shall tend thy wound, and spread it o\u2019er\nWith healing ointments to assuage the pain.\u201d\n\nHe said, and to the sacred herald call\u2019d:\n\u201cHaste thee, Talthybius! summon with all speed\nThe son of \u00c6sculapius, peerless leech,\nMachaon; bid him hither haste to see\nThe warlike Menelaus, chief of Greeks,\nWho by an arrow from some practis\u2019d hand,\nTrojan or Lycian, hath receiv\u2019d a wound;\nA cause of boast to them, to us of grief.\u201d\n\nHe said, nor did the herald not obey,\nBut through the brass-clad ranks of Greece he pass\u2019d,\nIn search of brave Machaon; him he found\nStanding, by buckler\u2019d warriors bold begirt,\nWho follow\u2019d him from Trica\u2019s grassy plains.\nHe stood beside him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cUp, son of \u00c6sculapius! Atreus\u2019 son,\nThe mighty monarch, summons thee to see\nThe warlike Menelaus, chief of Greeks,\nWho by an arrow from some practis\u2019d hand,\nTrojan or Lycian, hath receiv\u2019d a wound;\nA cause of boast to them, to us of grief.\u201d\n\nThus he; and not unmov\u2019d Machaon heard:\nThey thro\u2019 the crowd, and thro\u2019 the wide-spread host,\nTogether took their way; but when they came\nWhere fair-hair\u2019d Menelaus, wounded, stood,\nAround him in a ring the best of Greece,\nAnd in the midst the godlike chief himself,\nFrom the close-fitting belt the shaft he drew,\nBreaking the pointed barbs; the sparkling belt\nHe loosen\u2019d, and the doublet underneath,\nAnd coat of mail, the work of arm\u2019rer\u2019s hand.\nBut when the wound appear\u2019d in sight, where struck\nThe stinging arrow, from the clotted blood\nHe cleans\u2019d it, and applied with skilful hand\nThe herbs of healing power, which Chiron erst\nIn friendly guise upon his sire bestowed.\n\nWhile round the valiant Menelaus they\nWere thus engag\u2019d, advanc\u2019d the Trojan hosts:\nThey donn\u2019d their arms, and for the fight prepar\u2019d.\nIn Agamemnon then no trace was seen\nOf laggard sloth, no shrinking from the fight,\nBut full of ardour to the field he rush\u2019d.\nHe left his horses and brass-mounted car\n(The champing horses by Eurymedon,\nThe son of Ptolemy, Peiraeus\u2019 son,\nWere held aloof), but with repeated charge\nStill to be near at hand, when faint with toil\nHis limbs should fail him marshalling his host.\nHimself on foot the warrior ranks array\u2019d;\nWith cheering words addressing whom he found\nWith zeal preparing for the battle-field:\n\u201cRelax not, valiant friends, your warlike toil;\nFor Jove to falsehood ne\u2019er will give his aid;\nAnd they who first, regardless of their oaths,\nHave broken truce, shall with their flesh themselves\nThe vultures feed, while we, their city raz\u2019d,\nTheir wives and helpless children bear away.\u201d\n\nBut whom remiss and shrinking from the war\nHe found, with keen rebuke he thus assail\u2019d;\n\u201cYe wretched Greeks, your country\u2019s foul reproach,\nHave ye no sense of shame? Why stand ye thus\nLike timid fawns, that in the chase run down,\nStand all bewildered, spiritless and tame?\nSo stand ye now, nor dare to face the fight.\nWhat! will ye wait the Trojans\u2019 near approach,\nWhere on the beach, beside the hoary deep,\nOur goodly ships are drawn, and see if Jove\nWill o\u2019er you his protecting hand extend?\u201d\n\nAs thus the King the serried ranks review\u2019d,\nHe came where thronging round their skilful chief\nIdomeneus, the warlike bands of Crete\nWere arming for the fight; Idomeneus,\nOf courage stubborn as the forest boar,\nThe foremost ranks array\u2019d; Meriones\nThe rearmost squadrons had in charge; with joy\nThe monarch Agamemnon saw, and thus\nWith accents bland Idomeneus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cIdomeneus, above all other Greeks,\nIn battle and elsewhere, I honour thee;\nAnd in the banquet, where the noblest mix\nThe ruddy wine for chiefs alone reserved,\nThough others drink their share, yet by thy side\nThy cup, like mine, still new replenished stands\nTo drink at pleasure. Up then to the fight,\nAnd show thyself the warrior that thou art.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cretan King, Idomeneus:\n\u201cIn me, Atrides, thou shalt ever find,\nAs at the first I promis\u2019d, comrade true;\nBut go, and stir the other long-haired Greeks\nTo speedy battle; since the Trojans now\nThe truce have broken; and defeat and death\nMust wait on those who have their oaths forsworn.\u201d\n\nHe said, and Agamemnon went his way\nRejoicing; through the crowd he pass\u2019d, and came\nWhere stood th\u2019 Ajaces; them, in act to arm,\nAmid a cloud of infantry he found;\nAnd as a goat-herd from his watch-tow\u2019r crag\nBeholds a cloud advancing o\u2019er the sea,\nBy Zephyr\u2019s breath impell\u2019d; as from afar\nHe gazes, black as pitch, it sweeps along\nO\u2019er the dark ocean\u2019s face, and with it brings\nA hurricane of rain; he, shudd\u2019ring, sees,\nAnd drives his flock beneath the shelt\u2019ring cave:\nSo thick and dark, about th\u2019 Ajaces stirr\u2019d,\nImpatient for the war, the stalwart youths,\nBlack masses, bristling close with spear and shield.\n\nWell pleas\u2019d, the monarch Agamemnon saw,\nAnd thus address\u2019d them: \u201cValiant chiefs, to you,\nThe leaders of the brass-clad Greeks, I give\n(\u2019Twere needless and unseemly) no commands;\nFor well ye understand your troops to rouse\nTo deeds of dauntless courage; would to Jove,\nTo Pallas and Apollo, that such mind\nAs is in you, in all the camp were found;\nThen soon should Priam\u2019s lofty city fall,\nTak\u2019n and destroy\u2019d by our victorious hands.\u201d\n\nThus saying, them he left, and onward mov\u2019d.\nNestor, the smooth-tongu\u2019d Pylian chief, he found\nThe troops arraying, and to valiant deeds\nHis friends encouraging; stout Pelagon,\nAlastor, Chromius, Haemon, warlike Prince,\nAnd Bias bold, his people\u2019s sure defence.\nIn the front rank, with chariot and with horse,\nHe plac\u2019d the car-borne warriors; in the rear,\nNum\u2019rous and brave, a cloud of infantry,\nCompactly mass\u2019d, to stem the tide of war,\nBetween the two he plac\u2019d th\u2019 inferior troops,\nThat e\u2019en against their will they needs must fight.\nThe horsemen first he charg\u2019d, and bade them keep\nTheir horses well in hand, nor wildly rush\nAmid the tumult: \u201cSee,\u201d he said, \u201cthat none,\nIn skill or valour over-confident,\nAdvance before his comrades, nor alone\nRetire; for so your lines were easier forc\u2019d;\nBut ranging each beside a hostile car,\nThrust with your spears; for such the better way;\nBy men so disciplin\u2019d, in elder days\nWere lofty walls and fenced towns destroy\u2019d.\u201d\n\nThus he, experienc\u2019d in the wars of old;\nWell pleas\u2019d, the monarch Agamemnon saw,\nAnd thus address\u2019d him; \u201cWould to Heav\u2019n, old man,\nThat, as thy spirit, such too were thy strength\nAnd vigour of thy limbs; but now old age,\nThe common lot of mortals, weighs thee down;\nWould I could see some others in thy place,\nAnd thou couldst still be numbered with the young!\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cAtrides, I too fain would see restor\u2019d\nThe strength I once possess\u2019d, what time I slew\nThe godlike Ereuthalion; but the Gods\nOn man bestow not all their gifts at once;\nI then was young, and now am bow\u2019d with age,\nYet with the chariots can I still go forth,\nAnd aid with sage advice: for such the right\nAnd privilege of age; to hurl the spear\nBelongs to younger men, who after me\nWere born, who boast their vigour unimpair\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Agamemnon went his way,\nRejoicing: to Menestheus next he came,\nThe son of Peteus, charioteer renown\u2019d;\nHim found he, circled by th\u2019 Athenian bands,\nThe raisers of the war-cry; close beside\nThe sage Ulysses stood, around him rang\u2019d,\nNot unrenown\u2019d, the Cephalonian troops:\nThe sound of battle had not reach\u2019d their ears;\nFor but of late the Greek and Trojan hosts\nWere set in motion; they expecting stood,\nTill other Grecian columns should advance,\nAssail the Trojans, and renew the war.\n\nAtrides saw, and thus, reproachful, spoke:\n\u201cO son of Peteus, Heav\u2019n-descended King!\nAnd thou too, master of all tricky arts,\nWhy, ling\u2019ring, stand ye thus aloof, and wait\nFor others coming? ye should be the first\nThe hot assault of battle to confront;\nFor ye are first my summons to receive,\nWhene\u2019er the honour\u2019d banquet we prepare:\nAnd well ye like to eat the sav\u2019ry meat,\nAnd, at your will, the luscious wine-cups drain:\nNow stand ye here, and unconcern\u2019d would see\nTen columns pass before you to the fight.\u201d\n\nTo whom, with stern regard, Ulysses thus:\n\u201cWhat words have pass\u2019d the barrier of thy lips,\nAtrides? how with want of warlike zeal\nCanst thou reproach us? when the Greeks again\nThe furious war shall waken, thou shalt see\n(If that thou care to see) amid the ranks\nOf Troy, the father of Telemachus\nIn the fore-front: thy words are empty wind.\u201d\n\nAtrides saw him chafed, and smiling, thus\nRecalled his former words: \u201cUlysses sage,\nLaertes\u2019 high-born son, not over-much\nI give thee blame, or orders; for I know\nThy mind to gentle counsels is inclin\u2019d;\nThy thoughts are one with mine; then come, henceforth\nShall all be well; and if a hasty word\nHave pass\u2019d, may Heaven regard it as unsaid.\u201d\n\nThus saying, them he left, and onward mov\u2019d.\nThe son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed,\nStanding he found amid his warlike steeds\nAnd well-built cars; beside him, Sthenelus,\nThe son of Capaneus; Atrides saw,\nAnd thus address\u2019d him with reproachful words:\n\u201cAlas! thou son of Tydeus, wise and bold,\nWhy crouch with fear? why thus appall\u2019d survey\nThe pass of war? not so had Tydeus crouch\u2019d;\nHis hand was ever ready from their foes\nTo guard his comrades; so, at least, they say\nWhose eyes beheld his labours; I myself\nNor met him e\u2019er, nor saw; but, by report,\nThy father was the foremost man of men.\nA stranger to Mycen\u00e6 once he came,\nWith godlike Polynices; not at war,\nBut seeking succour for the troops that lay\nEncamp\u2019d before the sacred walls of Thebes;\nFor reinforcements earnestly they sued;\nThe boon they ask\u2019d was granted them, but Jove\nWith unpropitious omens turn\u2019d them back.\nAdvancing on their journey, when they reach\u2019d\nAsopus\u2019 grassy banks and rushes deep,\nThe Greeks upon a mission Tydeus sent:\nHe went; and many Thebans there he found\nFeasting in Eteocles\u2019 royal hall:\nAmid them all, a stranger and alone,\nHe stood unterrified, and challeng\u2019d all\nTo wrestle with him, and with ease o\u2019erthrew:\nSo mighty was the aid that Pallas gave.\nWhereat indignant, they, on his return,\nAn ambush set, of fifty chosen youths;\nTwo were their leaders; Haemon\u2019s godlike son,\nMaeon, and Lycophontes, warrior brave,\nSon of Autophonus; and these too far\u2019d\nBut ill at Tydeus\u2019 hand; he slew them all:\nMaeon alone, obedient to the Gods,\nHe spar\u2019d, and bade him bear the tidings home.\nSuch Tydeus was: though greater in debate,\nHis son will never rival him in arms.\u201d\n\nHe said: brave Diomed in silence heard,\nSubmissive to the monarch\u2019s stern rebuke;\nThen answer\u2019d thus the son of Capaneus:\n\u201cAtrides, speak not falsely: well thou know\u2019st\nThe truth, that we our fathers far surpass.\nThe seven-gated city, Thebes, we took,\nWith smaller force beneath the wall of Mars,\nTrusting to heav\u2019nly signs, and fav\u2019ring Jove,\nWhere they by blind, presumptuous folly fail\u2019d;\nThen equal not our fathers\u2019 deeds with ours.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Diomed, with stern regard:\n\u201cFather, be silent; hearken to my words:\nI blame not Agamemnon, King of men,\nWho thus to battle stirs the well-greav\u2019d Greeks:\nHis will the glory be if we o\u2019ercome\nThe valiant Trojans, and their city take;\nGreat too his loss if they o\u2019er us prevail:\nThen come, let us too for the fight prepare.\u201d\n\nHe said; and from the car leap\u2019d down in arms:\nFierce rang the armour on the warrior\u2019s breast,\nThat ev\u2019n the stoutest heart might quail with fear.\n\nAs by the west wind driv\u2019n, the ocean waves\nDash forward on the far-resounding shore,\nWave upon wave; first curls the ruffled sea\nWith whit\u2019ning crests; anon with thund\u2019ring roar\nIt breaks upon the beach, and from the crags\nRecoiling flings in giant curves its head\nAloft, and tosses high the wild sea-spray:\nColumn on column, so the hosts of Greece\nPour\u2019d, ceaseless, to the war; to each the chiefs\nTheir orders gave; the rest in silence mov\u2019d:\nNor would ye deem that mighty mass endued\nWith power of speech, so silently they moved\nIn awe of their great captains: far around\nFlashed the bright armour they were girt withal.\n\nOn th\u2019 other hand, the Trojans, as the flocks\nThat in the court-yard of some wealthy Lord\nIn countless numbers stand, at milking-time,\nIncessant bleating, as their lambs they hear;\nSo rose their mingled clamours through the camp;\nFor not one language nor one speech was there,\nBut many nations call\u2019d from distant lands:\nThese Mars inspir\u2019d, and those the blue-ey\u2019d Maid;\nAnd Fear, and Flight, and Discord unappeas\u2019d,\nOf blood-stain\u2019d Mars the sister and the friend:\n\u201cWith humble crest at first, anon her head,\n\u201cWhile yet she treads the earth, affronts the skies.\nThe gage of battle in the midst she threw,\nStrode through the crowd, and woe to mortals wrought.\nWhen to the midst they came, together rush\u2019d\nBucklers and lances, and the furious might\nOf mail-clad warriors; bossy shield on shield\nClatter\u2019d in conflict; loud the clamour rose.\nThen rose too mingled shouts and groans of men\nSlaying and slain; the earth ran red with blood.\nAs when, descending from the mountain\u2019s brow,\nTwo wintry torrents, from their copious source\nPour downward to the narrow pass, where meet\nTheir mingled waters in some deep ravine,\nTheir weight of flood; on the far mountain\u2019s side\nThe shepherd hears the roar; so loud arose\nThe shouts and yells of those commingling hosts.\n\nFirst \u2019mid the foremost ranks Antilochus\nA Trojan warrior, Echepolus, slew,\nA crested chief, Thalesius\u2019 noble son.\nBeneath his horsehair-plumed helmet\u2019s peak\nThe sharp spear struck; deep in his forehead fix\u2019d\nIt pierc\u2019d the bone; then darkness veil\u2019d his eyes,\nAnd, like a tow\u2019r, amid the press he fell.\nHim Elephenor, brave Abantian chief,\nSon of Chalcodon, seizing by the feet,\nDragg\u2019d from beneath the darts, in haste to strip\nHis armour off; but short-liv\u2019d was th\u2019 attempt;\nFor bold Agenor mark\u2019d him as he drew\nThe corpse aside, and with his brass-tipp\u2019d spear\nThrust through his flank, unguarded, as he stoop\u2019d,\nBeside his shield; and slack\u2019d his limbs in death.\nThe spirit was fled; but hotly o\u2019er him rag\u2019d\nThe war of Greeks and Trojans; fierce as wolves\nThey fought, man struggling hand to hand with man.\n\nThen Ajax Telamon a stalwart youth,\nSon of Anthemion, Simoisius, slew;\nWhose mother gave him birth on Simois\u2019 banks,\nWhen with her parents down from Ida\u2019s heights\nShe drove her flock; thence Simoisius nam\u2019d:\nNot destined he his parents to repay\nTheir early care; for short his term of life,\nBy godlike Ajax\u2019 mighty spear subdued.\nHim, to the front advancing, in the breast,\nBy the right nipple, Ajax struck; right through,\nFrom front to back, the brass-tipp\u2019d spear was driv\u2019n,\nOut through the shoulder; prone in dust he fell;\nAs some tall poplar, grown in marshy mead,\nSmooth-stemm\u2019d, with branches tapering tow\u2019rd the head;\nWhich with the biting axe the wheelwright fells,\nTo bend the felloes of his well-built car;\nSapless, beside the river, lies the tree;\nSo lay the youthful Simoisius, felled\nBy godlike Ajax\u2019 hand. At him, in turn,\nThe son of Priam, Antiphus, encas\u2019d\nIn radiant armour, from amid the crowd\nHis jav\u2019lin threw; his mark, indeed, he miss\u2019d;\nBut through the groin Ulysses\u2019 faithful friend,\nLeucus, he struck, in act to bear away\nThe youthful dead; down on the corpse he fell,\nAnd, dying, of the dead relax\u2019d his grasp.\nFierce anger, at his comrade\u2019s slaughter, filled\nUlysses\u2019 breast; in burnished armour clad\nForward he rush\u2019d; and standing near, around\nHe look\u2019d, and pois\u2019d on high his glitt\u2019ring lance:\nBeneath his aim the Trojans back recoil\u2019d;\nNor vainly flew the spear; Democoon,\nA bastard son of Priam, met the blow:\nHe from Abydos came, his high-bred mares\nThere left to pasture; him Ulysses, fill\u2019d\nWith fury at his lov\u2019d companion\u2019s death,\nSmote on the head; through either temple pass\u2019d\nThe pointed spear, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\nAt this the Trojan chiefs, and Hector\u2019s self,\n\u2019Gan to give ground: the Greeks with joyful shouts\nSeiz\u2019d on the dead, and forward urg\u2019d their course.\nFrom Ilium\u2019s heights Apollo, filled with wrath,\nLook\u2019d down, and to the Trojans shouted loud:\n\u201cUprouse ye, valiant Trojans! give not way\nBefore the Greeks; their bodies are not stone,\nNor iron, to defy your trenchant swords;\nAnd great Achilles, fair-hair\u2019d Thetis\u2019 son,\nFights not, but o\u2019er his anger broods apart.\u201d\nSo from the city call\u2019d the heav\u2019nly voice;\nThe Greeks, meanwhile, all-glorious Pallas fir\u2019d,\nMov\u2019d \u2019mid the tumult, and the laggards rous\u2019d.\n\nThen fell Diores, Amarynceus\u2019 son:\nA rugged fragment of a rock had crush\u2019d\nHis ancle and right leg; from \u00c6non came\nThe Thracian chief who hurl\u2019d it, Peirous, son\nOf Imbrasus; the tendons both, and bones,\nThe huge mass shatter\u2019d; backward in the dust\nHe fell, both hands extending to his friends,\nGasping his life away; then quick up-ran\nHe who the blow had dealt, and with his spear\nThrust through him, by the navel; from the wound\nHis bowels gush\u2019d, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\n\nBut he, advancing, through the breast was struck\nAbove the nipple, by th\u2019 \u00c6tolian chief.\nThoas; and through his lungs the spear was driv\u2019n.\nThoas approach\u2019d, and from his breast withdrew\nThe sturdy spear, and with his sharp-edg\u2019d sword\nAcross his waistband gave the mortal stroke:\nYet could not touch his arms; for all around\nThe Thracian warriors, with, their tufted crowns,\nTheir long spears held before them, him, though stout,\nAnd strong, and valiant, kept at bay; perforce\nHe yielded; and thus side by side were laid\nThe two, the Thracian and th\u2019 Epeian chief;\nAnd round them many a valiant soldier lay.\n\nWell might the deeds achieved that day deserve\nHis praise, who through that bloody field might pass\nBy sword or spear unwounded, by the hand\nOf Pallas guarded from the weapon\u2019s flight;\nFor many a Trojan, many a Greek, that day\nProne in the dust, and side by side, were laid.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE ACTS OF DIOMED.\n\n\nDiomed, assisted by Pallas, performs wonders in this day\u2019s battle.\nPandarus wounds him with an arrow, but the goddess cures him, enables\nhim to discern gods from mortals, and prohibits him from contending\nwith any of the former, excepting Venus. \u00c6neas joins Pandarus to\noppose him, Pandarus is killed, and \u00c6neas in great danger but for the\nassistance of Venus; who, as she is removing her son from the fight, is\nwounded on the hand by Diomed. Apollo seconds her in his rescue, and,\nat length, carries off \u00c6neas to Troy, where he is healed in the temple\nof Pergamus. Mars rallies the Trojans, and assists Hector to make a\nstand. In the mean time \u00c6neas is restored to the field, and they\noverthrow several of the Greeks; among the rest Tlepolemus is slain by\nSarpedon. Juno and Minerva descend to resist Mars; the latter incites\nDiomed to go against that god; he wounds him, and sends him groaning to\nheaven.\n\nThe first battle continues through this book. The scene is the same as\nin the former.\n\nBOOK V.\n\nSuch strength, and courage then to Diomed,\nThe son of Tydeus, Pallas gave, as rais\u2019d,\n\u2019Mid all the Greeks, the glory of his name.\nForth from his helm and shield a fiery light\nThere flash\u2019d, like autumn\u2019s star, that brightest shines\nWhen newly risen from his ocean bath.\nSo from the warrior\u2019s head and shoulders flash\u2019d\nThat fiery light, as to the midst he urg\u2019d\nHis furious course, where densest masses fought.\n\nThere was one Dares \u2019mid the Trojan host,\nThe priest of Vulcan, rich, of blameless life;\nTwo gallant sons he had, Idaeus nam\u2019d,\nAnd Phegeus, skill\u2019d in all the points of war.\nThese, parted from the throng, the warrior met;\nThey on their car, while he on foot advanc\u2019d.\nWhen near they came, first Phegeus threw his spear;\nO\u2019er the left shoulder of Tydides pass\u2019d\nThe erring weapon\u2019s point, and miss\u2019d its mark.\nHis pond\u2019rous spear in turn Tydides threw,\nAnd not in vain; on Phegeus\u2019 breast it struck,\nFull in the midst, and hurl\u2019d him from the car.\nIdaeus from the well-wrought chariot sprang,\nAnd fled, nor durst his brother\u2019s corpse defend.\nNor had he so escap\u2019d the doom of death,\nBut Vulcan bore him safely from the field,\nIn darkness shrouded, that his aged sire\nMight not be wholly of his sons bereav\u2019d.\nThe car Tydides to his comrades gave,\nAnd bade them to the ships the horses drive.\n\nNow when the Trojans Dares\u2019 sons beheld,\nThe one in flight, the other stretch\u2019d in death,\nTheir spirits within them quail\u2019d; but Pallas took\nThe hand of Mars, and thus address\u2019d the God:\n\u201cMars, Mars, thou bane of mortals, blood-stain\u2019d Lord,\nRazer of cities, wherefore leave we not\nThe Greeks and Trojans to contend, and see\nTo which the sire of all will vict\u2019ry give;\nWhile we retire, and shun the wrath of Jove?\u201d\n\nThus saying, from the battle Mars she led,\nAnd plac\u2019d him on Scamander\u2019s steepy banks.\n\nThe Greeks drove back the Trojan host; the chiefs\nSlew each his victim; Agamemnon first,\nThe mighty monarch, from his chariot hurl\u2019d\nHodius, the sturdy Halizonian chief,\nHim, as he turn\u2019d, between the shoulder-blades\nThe jav\u2019lin struck, and through his chest was driv\u2019n;\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\n\nOn Phaestus, Borus\u2019 son, Maeonian chief,\nWho from the fertile plains of Tarna came,\nThen sprang Idomeneus; and as he sought\nTo mount upon his car, the Cretan King\nThrough his right shoulder drove the pointed spear;\nHe fell; the shades of death his eyes o\u2019erspread,\nAnd of his arms the followers stripp\u2019d his corpse.\n\nThe son of Atreus, Menelaus, slew\nScamandrius, son of Strophius, sportsman keen,\nIn woodcraft skilful; for his practis\u2019d hand\nHad by Diana\u2019s self been taught to slay\nEach beast of chase the mountain forest holds.\nBut nought avail\u2019d him then the Archer-Queen\nDiana\u2019s counsels, nor his boasted art\nOf distant aim; for as he fled, the lance\nOf Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 warlike son,\nBehind his neck, between the shoulder-blades,\nHis flight arresting, through his chest was driv\u2019n.\nHeadlong he fell, and loud his armour rang.\n\nPhereclus by Meriones was slain,\nSon of Harmonides, whose practis\u2019d hand\nKnew well to fashion many a work of art;\nBy Pallas highly favour\u2019d; he the ships\nFor Paris built, first origin of ill,\nFreighted with evil to the men of Troy,\nAnd to himself, who knew not Heav\u2019n\u2019s decrees.\nHim, in his headlong flight, in hot pursuit\nMeriones o\u2019ertook, and thrust his lance\nThrough his right flank; beneath the bone was driv\u2019n\nThe spear, and pierc\u2019d him through: prone on his knees,\nGroaning, he fell, and death his eyelids clos\u2019d.\n\nMeges Pedaeus slew, Antenor\u2019s son,\nA bastard born, but by Theano rear\u2019d\nWith tender care, and nurtur\u2019d as her son,\nWith her own children, for her husband\u2019s sake.\nHim, Phyleus\u2019 warrior son, approaching near,\nThrust through the junction of the head and neck;\nCrash\u2019d through his teeth the spear beneath the tongue;\nProne in the dust he gnash\u2019d the brazen point.\n\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s noble son,\nHypsenor slew, the worthy progeny\nOf Dolopion brave; Scamander\u2019s priest,\nAnd by the people as a God rever\u2019d:\nHim, as he fled before him, from behind\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s noble son,\nSmote with the sword; and from the shoulder-point\nThe brawny arm he sever\u2019d; to the ground\nDown fell the gory hand; the darkling shades\nOf death, and rig\u2019rous doom, his eyelids clos\u2019d.\n\nThus labour\u2019d they amid the stubborn fight;\nBut of Tydides none might say to whom\nHis arm belong\u2019d, or whether with the hosts\nOf Troy or Greece he mingled in the fight:\nHither and thither o\u2019er the plain he rush\u2019d,\nLike to a wintry stream, that brimming o\u2019er\nBreaks down its barriers in its rapid course;\nNor well-built bridge can stem the flood, nor fence\nguards the fertile fields, as down it pours\nIts sudden torrent, swoll\u2019n with rain from Heav\u2019n,\nAnd many a goodly work of man destroys:\nSo back were borne before Tydides\u2019 might\nThe serried ranks of Troy, nor dar\u2019d await,\nDespite their numbers, his impetuous charge.\n\nHim when Lycaon\u2019s noble son beheld\nCareering o\u2019er the plain, the serried ranks\nDriving before him, quick at Tydeus\u2019 son\nHe bent his bow; and onward as he rush\u2019d,\nOn the right shoulder, near the breastplate\u2019s joint,\nThe stinging arrow struck; right through it pass\u2019d,\nAnd held its way, that blood the breastplate stain\u2019d.\nThen shouted loud Lycaon\u2019s noble son:\n\u201cArouse ye, valiant Trojans, ye who goad\nYour flying steeds; the bravest of the Greeks\nIs wounded, nor, I deem, can long withstand\nMy weapon, if indeed from Lycia\u2019s shore\nBy Phoebus\u2019 counsel sent I join\u2019d the war.\u201d\n\nThus he, vain-glorious; but not so was quell\u2019d\nThe godlike chief; back he withdrew, and stood\nBeside his car, and thus to Sthenelus,\nThe son of Capaneus, his speech address\u2019d:\n\u201cUp, gentle son of Capaneus, descend\nFrom off the car, and from my shoulder draw\nThis stinging arrow forth.\u201d He said, and down\nLeap\u2019d from the chariot Sthenelus, and stood\nBeside him; and as forth he drew the shaft,\nGush\u2019d out the blood, and dyed the twisted mail.\nThen thus the valiant son of Tydeus pray\u2019d:\n\u201cHear me, thou child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nUnconquer\u2019d! if amid the deadly fight\nThy friendly aid my father e\u2019er sustain\u2019d,\nLet me in turn thy favour find; and grant\nWithin my reach and compass of my spear\nThat man may find himself, who unawares\nHath wounded me, and vainly boasting deems\nI shall not long behold the light of day.\u201d\nThus pray\u2019d the chief, and Pallas heard his pray\u2019r;\nTo all his limbs, to feet and hands alike,\nShe gave fresh vigour; and with winged words,\nBeside him as she stood, address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cGo fearless onward, Diomed, to meet\nThe Trojan hosts; for I within thy breast\nThy father\u2019s dauntless courage have infus\u2019d,\nSuch as of old in Tydeus\u2019 bosom dwelt,\nBold horseman, buckler-clad; and from thine eyes\nThe film that dimm\u2019d them I have purg\u2019d away,\nThat thou mayst well \u2019twixt Gods and men discern.\nIf then some God make trial of thy force,\nWith other of th\u2019 Immortals fight thou not;\nBut should Jove\u2019s daughter Venus dare the fray\nThou needst not shun at her to cast thy spear.\u201d\n\nThis said, the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess disappear\u2019d.\nForthwith again amid the foremost ranks\nTydides mingled; keenly as before\nHis spirit against the Trojans burn\u2019d to fight,\nWith threefold fury now he sought the fray.\nAs when a hungry lion has o\u2019erleap\u2019d\nThe sheepfold; him the guardian of the flock\nHas wounded, not disabled; by his wound\nTo rage excited, but not forc\u2019d to fly,\nThe fold he enters, scares the trembling sheep,\nThat, closely huddled, each on other press,\nThen pounces on his prey, and leaps the fence:\nSo pounc\u2019d Tydides on the Trojan host.\nAstynous and Hypeiron then he slew,\nHis people\u2019s guardian; through the breast of one\nHe drove his spear, and with his mighty sword\nHe smote the other on the collar-bone,\nThe shoulder sev\u2019ring from the neck and back.\nThem left he there to lie; of Abas then\nAnd Polyeidus went in hot pursuit,\nSons of Eurydamas, an aged seer,\nWhose visions stay\u2019d them not; but both were doom\u2019d\nA prey to valiant Diomed to fall.\nXanthus and Thoon then the hero slew,\nThe sons of Phaenops, children of his age:\nHe, worn with years, no other sons begot,\nHeirs of his wealth; they two together fell,\nAnd to their father left a load of grief,\nThat from the battle they return\u2019d not home,\nAnd distant kindred all his substance shar\u2019d.\nOn Chromius and Echemon next he fell,\nTwo sons of Priam on one chariot borne;\nAnd as a lion springs upon a herd,\nAnd breaks the neck of heifer or of steer,\nFeeding in woodland glade; with such a spring\nThese two, in vain resisting, from their car\nTydides hurl\u2019d; then stripp\u2019d their arms, and bade\nHis followers lead their horses to the ships.\n\nHim when \u00c6neas saw amid the ranks\nDealing destruction, through the fight and throng\nOf spears he plung\u2019d, if haply he might find\nThe godlike Pandarus; Lycaon\u2019s son\nHe found, of noble birth and stalwart form,\nAnd stood before him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cWhere, Pandarus, are now thy winged shafts,\nThy bow, and well-known skill, wherein with thee\nCan no man here contend? nor Lycia boasts,\nThrough all her wide-spread plains, a truer aim;\nThen raise to Jove thy hands, and with thy shaft\nStrike down this chief, whoe\u2019er he be, that thus\nIs making fearful havoc in our host,\nRelaxing many a warrior\u2019s limbs in death:\nIf he be not indeed a God, incens\u2019d\nAgainst the Trojans for neglected rites;\nFor fearful is the vengeance of a God.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Lycaon\u2019s noble son:\n\u201c\u00c6neas, chief and councillor of Troy,\nMost like in all respects to Tydeus\u2019 son\nHe seems; his shield I know, and visor\u2019d helm,\nAnd horses; whether he himself be God,\nI cannot tell; but if he be indeed\nThe man I think him, Tydeus\u2019 valiant son,\nHe fights not thus without the aid of Heav\u2019n;\nBut by his side, his shoulders veiled in cloud,\nSome God attends his steps, and turns away\nThe shaft that just hath reach\u2019d him; for ev\u2019n now\nA shaft I shot, which by the breastplate\u2019s joint\nPierc\u2019d his right shoulder through: full sure I deem\u2019d\nThat shaft had sent him to the shades, and yet\nIt slew him not; \u2019tis sure some angry God.\nNor horse have I, nor car on which to mount;\nBut in my sire Lycaon\u2019s wealthy house\nElev\u2019n fair chariots stand, all newly built,\nEach with its cover; by the side of each\nTwo steeds on rye and barley white are fed;\nAnd in his well-built house, when here I came,\nLycaon, aged warrior, urg\u2019d me oft\nWith horses and with chariots high upborne,\nTo lead the Trojans in the stubborn fight;\nI hearken\u2019d not\u2014\u2019twere better if I had\u2014\nYet fear\u2019d I lest my horses, wont to feed\nIn plenty unstinted, by the soldiers\u2019 wants\nMight of their custom\u2019d forage be depriv\u2019d;\nI left them there, and hither came on foot,\nAnd trusting to my bow: vain trust, it seems;\nTwo chiefs already have I struck, the sons\nOf Tydeus and of Atreus; with true aim\nDrawn blood from both, yet but increas\u2019d their rage.\nSad was the hour when down from where it hung\nI took my bow, and hasting to the aid\nOf godlike Hector, hither led my troops;\nBut should I e\u2019er return, and see again\nMy native land, my wife, my lofty hall,\nThen may a stranger\u2019s sword cut off my head,\nIf with these hands I shatter not, and burn,\nThe bow that thus hath fail\u2019d me at my need.\u201d\n\nHim answer\u2019d thus \u00c6neas, chief of Troy:\n\u201cSpeak thou not thus; our fortunes shall not change\nTill thou and I, with chariot and with horse,\nThis chief encounter, and his prowess prove;\nThen mount my car, and see how swift my steeds.\nHither and thither, in pursuit or flight,\nFrom those of Tros descended, scour the plain.\nSo if the victory to Diomed,\nThe son of Tydeus, should by Jove be giv\u2019n,\nWe yet may safely reach the walls of Troy.\nTake thou the whip and reins, while I descend\nTo fight on foot; or thou the chief engage,\nAnd leave to me the conduct of the car.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Lycaon\u2019s noble son:\n\u201c\u00c6neas, of thy horses and thy car\nTake thou the charge; beneath th\u2019 accustomed hand,\nWith more assurance would they draw the car,\nIf we from Tydeus\u2019 son be forced to fly;\nNor, struck with panic, and thy voice unheard,\nRefuse to bear us from the battle-field;\nSo should ourselves be slain, and Tydeus\u2019 son\nIn triumph drive thy horses to the ships.\nBut thou thy horses and thy chariot guide,\nWhile I his onset with my lance receive.\u201d\n\nThus saying, on the car they mounted both,\nAnd tow\u2019rd Tydides urg\u2019d their eager steeds.\nThem Sthenelus beheld, the noble son\nOf Capaneus, and to Tydides cried:\n\u201cOh son of Tydeus, dearest to my soul,\nTwo men I see, of might invincible,\nImpatient to engage thee; Pandarus,\nWell skill\u2019d in archery, Lycaon\u2019s son;\nWith him, \u00c6neas, great Anchises\u2019 son,\nWho from immortal Venus boasts his birth.\nThen let us timely to the car retreat,\nLest, moving thus amid the foremost ranks,\nThy daring pay the forfeit of thy life.\u201d\n\nTo whom brave Diomed with stern regard:\n\u201cTalk not to me of flight! I heed thee not!\nIt is not in my nature so to fight\nWith skulking artifice and faint retreat;\nMy strength is yet unbroken; I should shame\nTo mount the car; but forward will I go\nTo meet these chiefs\u2019 encounter; for my soul\nPallas forbids the touch of fear to know.\nNor shall their horses\u2019 speed procure for both\nA safe return, though one escape my arm.\nThis too I say, and bear my words in mind;\nBy Pallas\u2019 counsel if my hap should be\nTo slay them both, leave thou my horses here,\nThe reins attaching to the chariot-rail,\nAnd seize, and from the Trojans to the ships\nDrive off the horses in \u00c6neas\u2019 car;\nFrom those descended, which all-seeing Jove\nOn Tros, for Ganymede his son, bestow\u2019d:\nWith these may none beneath the sun compare.\nAnchises, King of men, the breed obtain\u2019d\nBy cunning, to the horses sending mares\nWithout the knowledge of Laomedon.\nSix colts were thus engender\u2019d: four of these\nIn his own stalls he rear\u2019d; the other two\nGave to \u00c6neas, fear-inspiring chief:\nThese could we win, our praise were great indeed.\u201d\n\nSuch converse while they held, the twain approach\u2019d,\nTheir horses urg\u2019d to speed; then thus began,\nTo Diomed, Lycaon\u2019s noble son:\n\n\u201cGreat son of Tydeus, warrior brave and skill\u2019d,\nMy shaft, it seems, has fail\u2019d to reach thy life;\nTry we then now what hap attends my spear.\u201d\nHe said; and, poising, hurl\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear,\nAnd struck Tydides\u2019 shield; right through the shield\nDrove the keen weapon, and the breastplate reach\u2019d.\nThen shouted loud Lycaon\u2019s noble son:\n\u201cThou hast it through the flank, nor canst thou long\nSurvive the blow; great glory now is mine.\u201d\n\nTo whom, unmov\u2019d, the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cThine aim hath failed, I am not touch\u2019d; and now\nI deem we part not hence till one of ye\nGlut with his blood th\u2019 insatiate Lord of War.\u201d\n\nHe said: the spear, by Pallas guided, struck\nBeside the nostril, underneath the eye;\nCrash\u2019d thro\u2019 the teeth, and cutting thro\u2019 the tongue\nBeneath the angle of the jaw came forth:\nDown from the car he fell; and loudly rang\nHis glitt\u2019ring arms: aside the startled steeds\nSprang devious: from his limbs the spirit fled.\nDown leap\u2019d \u00c6neas, spear and shield in hand,\nAgainst the Greeks to guard the valiant dead;\nAnd like a lion, fearless in his strength,\nAround the corpse he stalk\u2019d, this way and that,\nHis spear and buckler round before him held,\nTo all who dar\u2019d approach him threat\u2019ning death,\nWith fearful shouts; a rocky fragment then\nTydides lifted up, a mighty mass,\nWhich scarce two men could raise, as men are now:\nBut he, unaided, lifted it with ease.\nWith this he smote \u00c6neas near the groin,\nWhere the thigh-bone, inserted in the hip,\nTurns in the socket-joint; the rugged mass\nThe socket crush\u2019d, and both the tendons broke,\nAnd tore away the flesh: down on his knees,\nYet resting on his hand, the hero fell;\nAnd o\u2019er his eyes the shades of darkness spread.\nThen had \u00c6neas, King of men, been slain,\nHad not his mother, Venus, child of Jove,\nWho to Anchises, where he fed his flocks,\nThe hero bore, his peril quickly seen:\nAround her son she threw her snowy arms,\nAnd with a veil, thick-folded, wrapt him round,\nFrom hostile spears to guard him, lest some Greek\nShould pierce his breast, and rob him of his life.\n\nShe from the battle thus her son removed;\nNor did the son of Capaneus neglect\nThe strict injunction by Tydides giv\u2019n;\nHis reins attaching to the chariot-rail,\nFar from the battle-din he check\u2019d, and left,\nHis own fleet steeds; then rushing forward, seiz\u2019d,\nAnd from the Trojans tow\u2019rd the camp drove off,\nThe sleek-skinn\u2019d horses of \u00c6neas\u2019 car.\nThese to Deipylus, his chosen friend,\nHe gave, of all his comrades best esteem\u2019d,\nOf soundest judgment, tow\u2019rd the ships to drive.\nThen, his own car remounting, seiz\u2019d the reins,\nAnd urg\u2019d with eager haste his fiery steeds,\nSeeking Tydides; he, meanwhile, press\u2019d on\nIn keen pursuit of Venus; her he knew\nA weak, unwarlike Goddess, not of those\nThat like Bellona fierce, or Pallas, range\nExulting through the blood-stain\u2019d fields of war.\n\nHer, searching thro\u2019 the crowd, at length he found,\nAnd springing forward, with his pointed spear\nA wound inflicted on her tender hand.\nPiercing th\u2019 ambrosial veil, the Graces\u2019 work,\nThe sharp spear graz\u2019d her palm below the wrist.\nForth from the wound th\u2019 immortal current flow\u2019d,\nPure ichor, life-stream of the blessed Gods;\nThey eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine,\nAnd bloodless thence and deathless they become.\nThe Goddess shriek\u2019d aloud, and dropp\u2019d her son;\nBut in his arms Apollo bore him off\nIn a thick cloud envelop\u2019d, lest some Greek\nMight pierce his breast, and rob him of his life.\nLoud shouted brave Tydides, as she fled:\n\u201cDaughter of Jove, from battle-fields retire;\nEnough for thee weak woman to delude;\nIf war thou seek\u2019st, the lesson thou shalt learn\nShall cause thee shudder but to hear it nam\u2019d.\u201d\nThus he; but ill at ease, and sorely pain\u2019d,\nThe Goddess fled: her, Iris, swift as wind,\nCaught up, and from the tumult bore away,\nWeeping with pain, her fair skin soil\u2019d with blood.\n\nMars on the left hand of the battle-field\nShe found, his spear reclining by his side,\nAnd, veil\u2019d in cloud, his car and flying steeds.\nKneeling, her brother she besought to lend\nThe flying steeds, with golden frontlets crown\u2019d:\n\u201cDear brother, aid me hence, and lend thy car\nTo bear me to Olympus, seat of Gods;\nGreat is the pain I suffer from a wound\nReceiv\u2019d from Diomed, a mortal man,\nWho now would dare with Jove himself to fight.\u201d\n\nHe lent the steeds, with golden frontlets crown\u2019d;\nIn deep distress she mounted on the car:\nBeside her Iris stood, and took the reins,\nAnd urg\u2019d the coursers; nothing loth they flew,\nAnd soon to high Olympus, seat of Gods,\nThey came: swift Iris there the coursers stay\u2019d,\nLoos\u2019d from the chariot, and before them plac\u2019d\nAmbrosial forage: on her mother\u2019s lap,\nDione, Venus fell; she in her arms\nEmbrac\u2019d, and sooth\u2019d her with her hand, and said:\n\u201cWhich of the heav\u2019nly pow\u2019rs hath wrong\u2019d thee thus,\nMy child, as guilty of some open shame?\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the laughter-loving Queen;\n\u201cThe haughty son of Tydeus, Diomed,\nHath wounded me, because my dearest son,\n\u00c6neas, from the field I bore away.\nNo more \u2019twixt Greeks and Trojans is the fight,\nBut with the Gods themselves the Greeks contend.\u201d\nTo whom Dione, heav\u2019nly Goddess, thus:\n\u201cHave patience, dearest child; though much enforc\u2019d,\nRestrain thine anger: we, in Heav\u2019n who dwell,\nHave much to bear from mortals; and ourselves\nToo oft upon each other suff\u2019rings lay.\nMars had his suff\u2019rings; by Aloeus\u2019 sons,\nOtus and Ephialtes, strongly bound,\nHe thirteen months in brazen fetters lay:\nAnd there had pin\u2019d away the God of War,\nInsatiate Mars, had not their step-mother,\nThe beauteous Eriboea, sought the aid\nOf Hermes; he by stealth releas\u2019d the God,\nSore worn and wasted by his galling chains.\nJuno too suffer\u2019d, when Amphitryon\u2019s son\nThrough her right breast a three-barb\u2019d arrow sent:\nDire, and unheard of, were the pangs she bore.\nGreat Pluto\u2019s self the stinging arrow felt,\nWhen that same son of aegis-bearing Jove\nAssail\u2019d him in the very gates of hell,\nAnd wrought him keenest anguish; pierc\u2019d with pain\nTo high Olympus, to the courts of Jove,\nGroaning, he came; the bitter shaft remain\u2019d\nDeep in his shoulder fix\u2019d, and griev\u2019d his soul.\nBut soon with soothing ointments Paeon\u2019s hand\n(For death on him was powerless) heal\u2019d the wound.\nAccurs\u2019d was he, of daring over-bold,\nReckless of evil deeds, who with his bow\nAssail\u2019d the Gods, who on Olympus dwell.\nThe blue-ey\u2019d Pallas, well I know, has urg\u2019d\nTydides to assail thee; fool and blind!\nUnknowing he how short his term of life\nWho fights against the Gods! for him no child\nUpon his knees shall lisp a father\u2019s name,\nSafe from the war and battle-field return\u2019d.\nBrave as he is, let Diomed beware\nHe meet not some more dangerous foe than thee.\nThen fair \u00c6giale, Adrastus\u2019 child,\nThe noble wife of valiant Diomed,\nShall long, with lamentations loud, disturb\nThe slumbers of her house, and vainly mourn\nHer youthful Lord, the bravest of the Greeks.\u201d\nShe said; and wip\u2019d the ichor from the wound;\nThe hand was heal\u2019d, the grievous pains allay\u2019d.\nBut Juno and Minerva, looking on,\nWith words of bitter mock\u2019ry Saturn\u2019s son\nProvok\u2019d: and thus the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess spoke:\n\u201cO Father! may I speak without offence?\nVenus, it seems, has sought to lead astray\nSome Grecian woman, and persuade to join\nThose Trojans, whom she holds in high esteem;\nAnd, as her hand the gentle dame caress\u2019d,\nA golden clasp has scratched her slender arm.\u201d\n\nThus she: and smil\u2019d the Sire of Gods and men;\nHe call\u2019d the golden Venus to his side,\nAnd, \u201cNot to thee, my child,\u201d he said, \u201cbelong\nThe deeds of war; do thou bestow thy care\nOn deeds of love, and tender marriage ties;\nBut leave to Mars and Pallas feats of arms.\u201d\n\nSuch converse while they held, brave Diomed\nAgain assail\u2019d \u00c6neas; well he knew\nApollo\u2019s guardian hand around him thrown;\nYet by the God undaunted, on he press\u2019d\nTo slay \u00c6neas, and his arms obtain.\nThrice was his onset made, with murd\u2019rous aim;\nAnd thrice Apollo struck his glitt\u2019ring shield;\nBut when, with godlike force, he sought to make\nHis fourth attempt, the Far-destroyer spoke\nIn terms of awful menace: \u201cBe advis\u2019d,\nTydides, and retire; nor as a God\nEsteem thyself; since not alike the race\nOf Gods immortal and of earth-born men.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Diomed a little space\nBefore the Far-destroyer\u2019s wrath retir\u2019d:\nApollo then \u00c6neas bore away\nFar from the tumult; and in Pergamus,\nWhere stood his sacred shrine, bestow\u2019d him safe.\nLatona there, and Dian, Archer-Queen,\nIn the great temple\u2019s innermost recess,\nGave to his wounds their care, and sooth\u2019d his pride.\nMeanwhile Apollo of the silver bow\nA phantom form prepar\u2019d, the counterpart\nOf great \u00c6neas, and alike in arms:\nAround the form, of Trojans and of Greeks,\nLoud was the din of battle; fierce the strokes\nThat fell on rounded shield of tough bull\u2019s-hide,\nAnd lighter targe, before each warrior\u2019s breast.\nThen thus Apollo to the God of War:\n\u201cMars! Mars! thou bane of mortals, blood-stain\u2019d Lord,\nRazer of cities, wer\u2019t not well thyself\nTo interpose, and from the battle-field\nWithdraw this chief, Tydides? such his pride,\nHe now would dare with Jove himself to fight.\nVenus, of late, he wounded in the wrist;\nAnd, like a God, but now confronted me.\u201d\nHe said, and sat on Ilium\u2019s topmost height:\nWhile Mars, in likeness of the Thracian chief,\nSwift Acamas, amid the Trojan ranks\nMov\u2019d to and fro, and urg\u2019d them to the fight.\nTo Priam\u2019s Heav\u2019n-descended sons he call\u2019d;\n\u201cYe sons of Priam, Heav\u2019n-descended King,\nHow long will ye behold your people slain?\nTill to your very doors the war be brought?\n\u00c6neas, noble-soul\u2019d Anchises\u2019 son,\nIn like esteem with Hector held, is down;\nOn to his aid! our gallant comrade save!\u201d\n\nHe said; his words fresh courage gave to all:\nThen thus Sarpedon, in reproachful tone,\nAddress\u2019d the godlike Hector; \u201cWhere is now,\nHector, the spirit that heretofore was thine?\n\u2019Twas once thy boast that ev\u2019n without allies\nThyself, thy brethren, and thy house, alone\nThe city could defend: for all of these\nI look in vain, and see not one; they all,\nAs curs around a lion, cow\u2019r and crouch:\nWe, strangers and allies, maintain the fight.\nI to your aid, from lands afar remote,\nFrom Lycia came, by Xanthus\u2019 eddying stream;\nThere left a cherish\u2019d wife, and infant son,\nAnd rich possessions, which might envy move;\nYet I my troops encourage; and myself\nHave play\u2019d my part, though nought have I to lose,\nNought that the Greeks could drive or bear away;\nBut thou stand\u2019st idly by; nor bidd\u2019st the rest\nMaintain their ground, and guard their wives and homes.\nBeware lest ye, as in the meshes caught\nOf some wide-sweeping net, become the prey\nAnd booty of your foes, who soon shall lay\nYour prosp\u2019rous city level with the dust.\nBy day and night should this thy thoughts engage,\nWith constant pray\u2019r to all thy brave allies,\nFirmly to stand, and wipe this shame away.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Hector felt the biting speech;\nDown from his car he leap\u2019d; and through the ranks,\nTwo jav\u2019lins brandishing, he pass\u2019d, to arms\nExciting all, and rais\u2019d his battle-cry.\nThe tide was turn\u2019d; again they fac\u2019d the Greeks:\nIn serried ranks the Greeks, undaunted, stood.\nAs when the wind from off a threshing-floor,\nWhere men are winnowing, blows the chaff away;\nWhen yellow Ceres with the breeze divides\nThe corn and chaff, which lies in whit\u2019ning heaps;\nSo thick the Greeks were whiten\u2019d o\u2019er with dust,\nWhich to the brazen vault of Heav\u2019n arose\nBeneath the horses\u2019 feet, that with the crowd\nWere mingled, by their drivers turn\u2019d to flight.\nUnwearied still, they bore the brunt; but Mars\nThe Trojans succouring, the battle-field\nVeil\u2019d in thick clouds, from ev\u2019ry quarter brought.\nThus he of Phoebus of the golden sword\nObey\u2019d th\u2019 injunction, bidding him arouse\nThe courage of the Trojans, when he saw\nPallas approaching to support the Greeks.\n\nThen from the wealthy shrine Apollo\u2019s self\n\u00c6neas brought, and vigour fresh infus\u2019d:\nAmid his comrades once again he stood;\nThey joy\u2019d to see him yet alive, and sound,\nAnd full of vigour; yet no question ask\u2019d:\nNo time for question then, amid the toils\nImpos\u2019d by Phoebus of the silver bow,\nAnd blood-stain\u2019d Mars, and Discord unappeas\u2019d.\n\nMeanwhile Ulysses, and th\u2019 Ajaces both,\nAnd Diomed, with courage for the fight\nThe Grecian force inspir\u2019d; they undismay\u2019d\nShrank not before the Trojans\u2019 rush and charge;\nIn masses firm they stood, as when the clouds\nAre gather\u2019d round the misty mountain top\nBy Saturn\u2019s son, in breathless calm, while sleep\nThe force of Boreas and the stormy winds,\nThat with their breath the shadowy clouds disperse;\nSo stood the Greeks, nor shunn\u2019d the Trojans\u2019 charge.\nThrough all the army Agamemnon pass\u2019d,\nAnd cried, \u201cBrave comrades, quit ye now like men;\nBear a stout heart; and in the stubborn fight,\nLet each to other mutual succour give;\nBy mutual succour more are sav\u2019d than fall;\nIn timid flight nor fame nor safety lies.\u201d\n\nThus he: and straight his jav\u2019lin threw, and struck\nA man of mark, \u00c6neas\u2019 faithful friend,\nDeicoon, the son of Pergasus,\nBy Troy, as ever foremost in the field,\nIn equal honour held with Priam\u2019s sons.\nHis shield the monarch Agamemnon struck;\nThe shield\u2019s defence was vain; the spear pass\u2019d through\nBeneath the belt, and in his groin was lodg\u2019d;\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\n\nOn th\u2019 other side, \u00c6neas slew two chiefs,\nThe bravest of the Greeks, Orsilochus\nAnd Crethon, sons of Diocles, who dwelt\nIn thriving Phera; rich in substance he,\nAnd from the mighty River Alpheus trac\u2019d\nHis high descent, who through the Pylian land\nHis copious waters pours; to him was born\nOrsilochus, of num\u2019rous tribes the chief;\nTo him succeeded valiant Diocles;\nTo whom were born twin sons, Orsilochus\nAnd Crethon, skill\u2019d in ev\u2019ry point of war.\nThey, in the vigour of their youth, to Troy\nHad sail\u2019d amid the dark-ribb\u2019d ships of Greece,\nOf Atreus\u2019 sons the quarrel to uphold;\nBut o\u2019er them both the shades of death were spread.\nAs two young lions, by their tawny dam\nNurs\u2019d in the mountain forest\u2019s deep recess,\nOn flocks and herds their youthful fury pour,\nWith havoc to the sheepfolds, till themselves\nSuccumb, o\u2019ermaster\u2019d by the hand of man:\nSo fell these two beneath \u00c6neas\u2019 hand,\nAnd like two lofty pines in death they lay.\n\nThe warlike Menelaus saw their fall\nWith pitying eye; and through the foremost ranks\nWith brandish\u2019d spear advanc\u2019d, by Mars impell\u2019d,\nWho hop\u2019d his death by great \u00c6neas\u2019 hand.\nHim Nestor\u2019s son, Antilochus, beheld,\nAnd hasten\u2019d to his aid; for much he fear\u2019d\nLest ill befall the monarch, and his death\nDeprive them of their warlike labours\u2019 fruit.\nThey two, with force combined of hand and spear,\nPress\u2019d onward to the fight; Antilochus\nHis station keeping close beside the King.\nBefore the two combined, \u00c6neas fear\u2019d,\nBold warrior as he was, to hold his ground.\nThe slain they drew within the Grecian lines,\nPlaced in their comrades\u2019 hands, and turning back\nAmid the foremost mingled in the fray.\nThen, brave as Mars, Pylaemenes they slew,\nThe buckler\u2019d Paphlagonians\u2019 warlike chief;\nHim Menelaus, hand to hand engag\u2019d,\nPierc\u2019d with a spear-thrust through the collar-bone;\nWhile, with a pond\u2019rous stone, Antilochus\nFull on the elbow smote Atymnius\u2019 son,\nMydon, his charioteer, in act to turn\nHis fiery steeds to flight; down from his hands\nFell to the ground the iv\u2019ry-mounted reins.\nOn rush\u2019d Antilochus, and with his sword\nAcross the temples smote him; gasping, he\nUpon his neck and shoulders from the car\nPitch\u2019d headlong; and (for there the sand was deep)\nAwhile stood balanc\u2019d, till the horses\u2019 feet\nDash\u2019d him upon the ground; Antilochus,\nThe horses seizing, drove them to the ships.\n\nHector beheld athwart the ranks, and rush\u2019d,\nLoud shouting, to th\u2019 encounter; at his back\nFollow\u2019d the thronging bands of Troy, by Mars\nAnd fierce Bellona led; she by the hand\nWild Uproar held; while Mars a giant spear\nBrandish\u2019d aloft: and stalking now before,\nNow following after Hector, urg\u2019d them on.\nQuail\u2019d at the sight the valiant Diomed:\nAs when a man, long journeying o\u2019er the plain,\nAll unprepar\u2019d, stands sudden on the brink\nOf a swift stream, down rushing to the sea,\nBoiling with foam, and back recoils; so then\nRecoil\u2019d Tydides, and address\u2019d the crowd:\n\u201cO friends, we marvel at the might display\u2019d\nBy Hector, spearman skill\u2019d and warrior bold;\nBut still some guardian God his steps attends,\nAnd shields from danger; now beside him stands,\nIn likeness of a mortal, Mars himself.\nThen turning still your faces to your foes,\nRetire, nor venture with the Gods to fight.\u201d\n\nHe said; the Trojans now were close at hand,\nAnd, mounted both upon a single car,\nTwo chiefs, Menesthes and Anchialus,\nWell skill\u2019d in war, by Hector\u2019s hand were slain.\n\nWith pitying eyes great Ajax Telamon\nBeheld their fall; advancing close, he threw\nHis glitt\u2019ring spear; the son of Selagus\nIt struck, Amphius, who in Paesus dwelt,\nIn land and substance rich; by evil fate\nImpell\u2019d, to Priam\u2019s house he brought his aid.\nBelow the belt the spear of Ajax struck,\nAnd in his groin the point was buried deep;\nThund\u2019ring he fell; then forward Ajax sprang\nTo seize the spoils of war; but fast and fierce\nThe Trojans show\u2019r\u2019d their weapons bright and keen,\nAnd many a lance the mighty shield receiv\u2019d.\nAjax, his foot firm planted on the slain,\nWithdrew the brazen spear; yet could not strip\nHis armour off, so galling flew the shafts;\nAnd much he fear\u2019d his foes might hem him in,\nWho closely press\u2019d upon him, many and brave;\nAnd, valiant as he was, and tall, and strong,\nStill drove him backward; he perforce retired.\n\nThus labour\u2019d they amid the stubborn fight.\nThen evil fate induc\u2019d Tlepolemus,\nValiant and strong, the son of Hercules,\nHeav\u2019n-born Sarpedon to confront in fight.\nWhen near they came, of cloud-compelling Jove\nGrandson and son, Tlepolemus began:\n\u201cSarpedon, Lycian chief, what brings thee here,\nTrembling and crouching, all unskill\u2019d in war?\nFalsely they speak who fable thee the son\nOf aegis-bearing Jove; so far art thou\nBeneath their mark who claim\u2019d in elder days\nThat royal lineage: such my father was,\nOf courage resolute, of lion heart.\nWith but six ships, and with a scanty band,\nThe horses by Laomedon withheld\nAvenging, he o\u2019erthrew this city, Troy,\nAnd made her streets a desert; but thy soul\nIs poor, thy troops are wasting fast away;\nNor deem I that the Trojans will in thee\n(Ev\u2019n were thy valour more) and Lycia\u2019s aid\nTheir safeguard find; but vanquish\u2019d by my hand,\nThis day the gates of Hades thou shalt pass.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Lycian chief, Sarpedon, thus:\n\u201cTlepolemus, the sacred walls of Troy\nThy sire o\u2019erthrew, by folly of one man,\nLaomedon, who with injurious words\nHis noble service recompens\u2019d; nor gave\nThe promis\u2019d steeds, for which he came from far.\nFor thee, I deem thou now shalt meet thy doom\nHere, at my hand; on thee my spear shall win\nRenown for me, thy soul to Hades send.\u201d\n\nThus as Sarpedon spoke, Tlepolemus\nUprais\u2019d his ashen spear; from both their hands\nThe pond\u2019rous weapons simultaneous flew.\nFull in the throat Tlepolemus receiv\u2019d\nSarpedon\u2019s spear; right through the neck it pass\u2019d,\nAnd o\u2019er his eyes the shades of death were spread.\nOn th\u2019 other side his spear Sarpedon struck\nOn the left thigh; the eager weapon pass\u2019d\nRight through the flesh, and in the bone was fix\u2019d;\nThe stroke of death his father turn\u2019d aside.\nSarpedon from the field his comrades bore,\nWeigh\u2019d down and tortured by the trailing spear,\nFor, in their haste to bear him to his car,\nNot one bethought him from his thigh to draw\nThe weapon forth; so sorely were they press\u2019d.\n\nThe Greeks too from the battle-field convey\u2019d\nThe slain Tlepolemus; Ulysses saw,\nPatient of spirit, but deeply mov\u2019d at heart;\nAnd with conflicting thoughts his breast was torn,\nIf first he should pursue the Thund\u2019rer\u2019s son,\nOr deal destruction on the Lycian host.\nBut fate had not decreed the valiant son\nOf Jove to fall beneath Ulysses\u2019 hand;\nSo on the Lycians Pallas turn\u2019d his wrath.\nAlastor then, and Coeranus he slew,\nChromius, Alcander, Halius, Prytanis,\nNoemon; nor had ended then the list\nOf Lycian warriors by Ulysses slain;\nBut Hector of the glancing helm beheld;\nThrough the front ranks he rush\u2019d, with burnish\u2019d crest\nResplendent, flashing terror on the Greeks;\nWith joy Sarpedon saw his near approach,\nAnd with imploring tones address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cHector, thou son of Priam, leave me not\nA victim to the Greeks, but lend thine aid:\nThen in your city let me end my days.\nFor not to me is giv\u2019n again to see\nMy native land; or, safe returning home,\nTo glad my sorrowing wife and infant child.\u201d\n\nThus he; but Hector, answ\u2019ring not a word,\nPass\u2019d on in silence, hasting to pursue\nThe Greeks, and pour destruction on their host.\n\nBeneath the oak of aegis-bearing Jove\nHis faithful comrades laid Sarpedon down,\nAnd from his thigh the valiant Pelagon,\nHis lov\u2019d companion, drew the ashen spear.\nHe swoon\u2019d, and giddy mists o\u2019erspread his eyes:\nBut soon reviv\u2019d, as on his forehead blew,\nWhile yet he gasp\u2019d for breath, the cooling breeze.\n\nBy Mars and Hector of the brazen helm\nThe Greeks hard-press\u2019d, yet fled not to their ships,\nNor yet sustain\u2019d the fight; but back retir\u2019d\nSoon as they learned the presence of the God.\nSay then who first, who last, the prowess felt\nOf Hector, Priam\u2019s son, and mail-clad Mars?\nThe godlike Teuthras first, Orestes next,\nBold charioteer; th\u2019 \u00c6tolian spearman skill\u2019d,\nTrechus, \u0152nomaus, and Helenus,\nThe son of \u0152nops; and Oresbius, girt\nWith sparkling girdle; he in Hyla dwelt,\nThe careful Lord of boundless wealth, beside\nCephisus\u2019 marshy banks; B\u0153otia\u2019s chiefs\nAround him dwelt, on fat and fertile soil.\nJuno, the white-arm\u2019d Queen, who saw these two\nThe Greeks destroying in the stubborn fight,\nTo Pallas thus her winged words address\u2019d:\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n! brave child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nVain was our word to Menelaus giv\u2019n.\nThat he the well-built walls of Troy should raze,\nAnd safe return, if unrestrain\u2019d we leave\nFerocious Mars to urge his mad career.\nCome then; let us too mingle in the fray.\u201d\n\nShe said: and Pallas, blue-ey\u2019d Maid, complied.\nOffspring of Saturn, Juno, heav\u2019nly Queen,\nHerself th\u2019 immortal steeds caparison\u2019d,\nAdorn\u2019d with golden frontlets: to the car\nHebe the circling wheels of brass attach\u2019d,\nEight-spok\u2019d, that on an iron axle turn\u2019d;\nThe felloes were of gold, and fitted round\nWith brazen tires, a marvel to behold;\nThe naves were silver, rounded every way:\nThe chariot-board on gold and silver bands\nWas hung, and round it ran a double rail:\nThe pole was all of silver; at the end\nA golden yoke, with golden yoke-bands fair:\nAnd Juno, all on fire to join the fray,\nBeneath the yoke the flying coursers led.\n\nPallas, the child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nWithin her father\u2019s threshold dropp\u2019d her veil,\nOf airy texture, work of her own hands;\nThe cuirass donn\u2019d of cloud-compelling Jove,\nAnd stood accoutred for the bloody fray.\nHer tassell\u2019d aegis round her shoulders next\nShe threw, with Terror circled all around;\nAnd on its face were figur\u2019d deeds of arms,\nAnd Strife, and Courage high, and panic Rout;\nThere too a Gorgon\u2019s head, of monstrous size,\nFrown\u2019d terrible, portent of angry Jove:\nAnd on her head a golden helm she plac\u2019d,\nFour-crested, double-peak\u2019d, whose ample verge\nA hundred cities\u2019 champions might suffice:\nHer fiery car she mounted: in her hand\nA spear she bore, long, weighty, tough; wherewith\nThe mighty daughter of a mighty sire\nSweeps down the ranks of those her hate pursues.\n\nThen Juno sharply touch\u2019d the flying steeds:\nForthwith spontaneous opening, grated harsh\nThe heavenly portals, guarded by the Hours,\nWho Heav\u2019n and high Olympus have in charge\nTo roll aside, or draw the veil of cloud.\nThrough these th\u2019 excited horses held their way.\nThey found the son of Saturn, from the Gods\nSitting apart, upon the highest crest\nOf many-ridg\u2019d Olympus; there arriv\u2019d,\nThe white-arm\u2019d Goddess Juno stay\u2019d her steeds,\nAnd thus address\u2019d the Sov\u2019reign Lord of Heav\u2019n:\n\n\u201cO Father Jove! canst thou behold unmov\u2019d\nThe violence of Mars? how many Greeks,\nReckless and uncontroll\u2019d, he hath destroy\u2019d;\nTo me a source of bitter grief; meanwhile\nVenus and Phoebus of the silver bow\nLook on, well pleas\u2019d, who sent this madman forth,\nTo whom both law and justice are unknown.\nSay, Father Jove, shall I thine anger move,\nIf with disgrace I drive him from the field?\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cGo, send against him Pallas; she, I know,\nHath oft inflicted on him grievous pain.\u201d.\n\nHe said: the white-arm\u2019d Queen with joy obey\u2019d;\nShe urg\u2019d her horses; nothing loth, they flew\nMidway between the earth, and starry Heav\u2019n:\nFar as his sight extends, who from on high\nLooks from his watch-tow\u2019r o\u2019er the dark-blue sea,\nSo far at once the neighing horses bound.\nBut when to Troy they came, beside the streams\nWhere Simois\u2019 and Scamander\u2019s waters meet,\nThe white-arm\u2019d Goddess stay\u2019d her flying steeds,\nLoos\u2019d from the car, and veil\u2019d in densest cloud.\nFor them, at bidding of the river-God,\nAmbrosial forage grew: the Goddesses,\nSwift as the wild wood-pigeon\u2019s rapid flight,\nSped to the battle-field to aid the Greeks.\nBut when they reach\u2019d the thickest of the fray,\nWhere throng\u2019d around the might of Diomed\nThe bravest and the best, as lions fierce,\nOr forest-boars, the mightiest of their kind,\nThere stood the white-arm\u2019d Queen, and call\u2019d aloud,\nIn form of Stentor, of the brazen voice,\nWhose shout was as the shout of fifty men:\n\n\u201cShame on ye, Greeks, base cowards! brave alone\nIn outward semblance; while Achilles yet\nWent forth to battle, from the Dardan gates\nThe Trojans never ventur\u2019d to advance,\nSo dreaded they his pond\u2019rous spear; but now\nFar from the walls, beside your ships, they fight.\u201d\n\nShe said: her words their drooping courage rous\u2019d.\nMeanwhile the blue-ey\u2019d Pallas went in haste\nIn search of Tydeus\u2019 son; beside his car\nShe found the King, in act to cool the wound\nInflicted by the shaft of Pandarus:\nBeneath his shield\u2019s broad belt the clogging sweat\nOppress\u2019d him, and his arm was faint with toil;\nThe belt was lifted up, and from the wound\nHe wip\u2019d the clotted blood: beside the car\nThe Goddess stood, and touch\u2019d the yoke, and said:\n\n\u201cLittle like Tydeus\u2019 self is Tydeus\u2019 son:\nLow was his stature, but his spirit was high:\nAnd ev\u2019n when I from combat rashly wag\u2019d\nWould fain have kept him back, what time in Thebes\nHe found himself, an envoy and alone,\nWithout support, among the Thebans all,\nI counsell\u2019d him in peace to share the feast:\nBut by his own impetuous courage led,\nHe challenged all the Thebans to contend\nWith him in wrestling, and o\u2019erthrew them all\nWith ease; so mighty was the aid I gave.\nThee now I stand beside, and guard from harm,\nAnd bid thee boldly with the Trojans fight.\nBut, if the labours of the battle-field\nO\u2019ertask thy limbs, or heartless fear restrain,\nNo issue thou of valiant Tydeus\u2019 loins.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cI know thee, Goddess, who thou art; the child\nOf aegis-bearing Jove: to thee my mind\nI freely speak, nor aught will I conceal.\nNor heartless fear, nor hesitating doubt,\nRestrain me; but I bear thy words in mind,\nWith other of th\u2019 Immortals not to fight:\nBut should Jove\u2019s daughter, Venus, dare the fray,\nAt her I need not shun to throw my spear.\nTherefore I thus withdrew, and others too\nExhorted to retire, since Mars himself\nI saw careering o\u2019er the battle-field.\u201d\n\nTo whom the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess, Pallas, thus:\n\u201cThou son of Tydeus, dearest to my soul,\nFear now no more with Mars himself to fight,\nNor other God; such aid will I bestow.\nCome then; at him the first direct thy car;\nEncounter with him hand to hand; nor fear\nTo strike this madman, this incarnate curse,\nThis shameless renegade; who late agreed\nWith Juno and with me to combat Troy,\nAnd aid the Grecian cause; who now appears,\nThe Greeks deserting, in the Trojan ranks.\u201d\n\nThus Pallas spoke, and stretching forth her hand\nBackward his comrade Sthenelus she drew\nFrom off the chariot; down in haste he sprang.\nHis place beside the valiant Diomed\nThe eager Goddess took; beneath the weight\nLoud groan\u2019d the oaken axle; for the car\nA mighty Goddess and a Hero bore.\nThen Pallas took the whip and reins, and urg\u2019d\nDirect at Mars the fiery coursers\u2019 speed.\n\nThe bravest of th\u2019 \u00c6tolians, Periphas,\nOchesius\u2019 stalwart son, he just had slain,\nAnd stood in act to strip him of his arms.\nThe helmet then of Darkness Pallas donn\u2019d,\nTo hide her presence from the sight of Mars:\nBut when the blood-stain\u2019d God of War beheld\nAdvancing tow\u2019rd him godlike Diomed,\nThe corpse of stalwart Periphas he left,\nThere where he fell, to lie; while he himself\nOf valiant Diomed th\u2019 encounter met.\nWhen near they came, first Mars his pond\u2019rous spear\nAdvanc\u2019d beyond the yoke and horses\u2019 reins,\nWith murd\u2019rous aim; but Pallas from the car\nTurn\u2019d it aside, and foil\u2019d the vain attempt.\n\nThen Diomed thrust forward in his turn\nHis pond\u2019rous spear; low on the flank of Mars,\nGuided by Pallas, with successful aim,\nJust where the belt was girt, the weapon struck:\nIt pierc\u2019d the flesh, and straight was back withdrawn:\nThen Mars cried out aloud, with such a shout\nAs if nine thousand or ten thousand men\nShould simultaneous raise their battle-cry:\nTrojans and Greeks alike in terror heard,\nTrembling; so fearful was the cry of Mars.\nAs black with clouds appears the darken\u2019d air,\nWhen after heat the blust\u2019ring winds arise,\nSo Mars to valiant Diomed appear\u2019d,\nAs in thick clouds he took his heav\u2019nward flight.\nWith speed he came to great Olympus\u2019 heights,\nTh\u2019 abode of Gods; and sitting by the throne\nOf Saturn\u2019s son, with anguish torn, he show\u2019d\nTh\u2019 immortal stream that trickled from the wound,\nAnd thus to Jove his piteous words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cO Father Jove, canst thou behold unmov\u2019d\nThese acts of violence? the greatest ills\nWe Gods endure, we each to other owe\nWho still in human quarrels interpose.\nOf thee we all complain; thy senseless child\nIs ever on some evil deed intent.\nThe other Gods, who on Olympus dwell,\nAre all to thee obedient and submiss;\nBut thy pernicious daughter, nor by word\nNor deed dost thou restrain; who now excites\nTh\u2019 o\u2019erbearing son of Tydeus, Diomed,\nUpon th\u2019 immortal Gods to vent his rage.\nVenus of late he wounded in the wrist,\nAnd, as a God, but now encounter\u2019d me:\nBarely I \u2019scap\u2019d by swiftness of my feet;\nElse, \u2019mid a ghastly heap of corpses slain,\nIn anguish had I lain; and, if alive,\nYet liv\u2019d disabl\u2019d by his weapon\u2019s stroke.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the Cloud-compeller, Jove,\nWith look indignant: \u201cCome no more to me,\nThou wav\u2019ring turncoat, with thy whining pray\u2019rs:\nOf all the Gods who on Olympus dwell\nI hate thee most; for thou delight\u2019st in nought\nBut strife and war; thou hast inherited\nThy mother, Juno\u2019s, proud, unbending mood,\nWhom I can scarce control; and thou, methinks,\nTo her suggestions ow\u2019st thy present plight.\nYet since thou art my offspring, and to me\nThy mother bore thee, I must not permit\nThat thou should\u2019st long be doom\u2019d to suffer pain;\nBut had thy birth been other than it is,\nFor thy misdoings thou hadst long ere now\nBeen banish\u2019d from the Gods\u2019 companionship.\u201d\n\nHe said: and straight to Paeon gave command\nTo heal the wound; with soothing anodynes\nHe heal\u2019d it quickly; soon as liquid milk\nIs curdled by the fig-tree\u2019s juice, and turns\nIn whirling flakes, so soon was heal\u2019d the wound.\nBy Hebe bath\u2019d, and rob\u2019d afresh, he sat\nIn health and strength restor\u2019d, by Saturn\u2019s son.\n\nMars thus arrested in his murd\u2019rous course,\nTogether to th\u2019 abode of Jove return\u2019d\nThe Queen of Argos and the blue-ey\u2019d Maid.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE EPISODES OF GLAUCUS AND DIOMED, AND OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.\n\n\nThe gods having left the field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the\nchief augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the city, in order to\nappoint a solemn procession of the Queen and the Trojan matrons to the\ntemple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. The\nbattle relaxing during the absence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have\nan interview between the two armies; where, coming to the knowledge of\nthe friendship and hospitality past between their ancestors, they make\nexchange of their arms. Hector, having performed the orders of Helenus,\nprevailed upon Paris to return to the battle, and taken a tender leave\nof his wife Andromache, hastens again to the field.\n\nThe scene is first in the field of battle, between the rivers Simois\nand Scamander, and then changes to Troy.\n\nBOOK VI.\n\nThe Gods had left the field, and o\u2019er the plain\nHither and thither surg\u2019d the tide of war,\nAs couch\u2019d th\u2019 opposing chiefs their brass-tipp\u2019d spears,\nMidway \u2019twixt Simois\u2019 and Scamander\u2019s streams.\n\nFirst through the Trojan phalanx broke his way\nThe son of Telamon, the prop of Greece,\nThe mighty Ajax; on his friends the light\nOf triumph shedding, as Eusorus\u2019 son\nHe smote, the noblest of the Thracian bands,\nValiant and strong, the gallant Acamas.\nFull in the front, beneath the plumed helm,\nThe sharp spear struck, and crashing thro\u2019 the bone,\nThe warrior\u2019s eyes were clos\u2019d in endless night.\n\nNext valiant Diomed Axylus slew,\nThe son of Teuthranes, who had his home\nIn fair Arisba; rich in substance he,\nAnd lov\u2019d of all; for, dwelling near the road,\nHe op\u2019d to all his hospitable gate;\nBut none of all he entertain\u2019d was there\nTo ward aside the bitter doom of death:\nThere fell they both, he and his charioteer,\nCalesius, who athwart the battle-field\nHis chariot drove; one fate o\u2019ertook them both.\n\nThen Dresus and Opheltius of their arms\nEuryalus despoil\u2019d; his hot pursuit\n\u00c6sepus next, and Pedasus assail\u2019d,\nBrothers, whom Abarbarea, Naiad nymph,\nTo bold Bucolion bore; Bucolion, son\nOf great Laomedon, his eldest born,\nThough bastard: he upon the mountain side,\nOn which his flocks he tended, met the nymph,\nAnd of their secret loves twin sons were born;\nWhom now at once Euryalus of strength\nAnd life depriv\u2019d, and of their armour stripp\u2019d.\n\nBy Polypoetes\u2019 hand, in battle strong,\nWas slain Astyalus; Pidutes fell,\nChief of Percote, by Ulysses\u2019 spear;\nAnd Teucer godlike Aretaon slew.\nAntilochus, the son of Nestor, smote\nWith gleaming lance Ablerus; Elatus\nBy Agamemnon, King of men, was slain,\nWho dwelt by Satnois\u2019 widely-flowing stream,\nUpon the lofty heights of Pedasus.\nBy Leitus was Phylacus in flight\nO\u2019erta\u2019en; Eurypylus Melanthius slew.\n\nThen Menelaus, good in battle, took\nAdrastus captive; for his horses, scar\u2019d\nAnd rushing wildly o\u2019er the plain, amid\nThe tangled tamarisk scrub his chariot broke,\nSnapping the pole; they with the flying crowd\nHeld city-ward their course; he from the car\nHurl\u2019d headlong, prostrate lay beside the wheel,\nProne on his face in dust; and at his side,\nPoising his mighty spear, Atrides stood.\nAdrastus clasp\u2019d his knees, and suppliant cried,\n\u201cSpare me, great son of Atreus! for my life\nAccept a price; my wealthy father\u2019s house\nA goodly store contains of brass, and gold,\nAnd well-wrought iron; and of these he fain\nWould pay a noble ransom, could he hear\nThat in the Grecian ships I yet surviv\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHis words to pity mov\u2019d the victor\u2019s breast;\nThen had he bade his followers to the ships\nThe captive bear; but running up in haste.\nFierce Agamemnon cried in stern rebuke;\n\n\u201cSoft-hearted Menelaus, why of life\nSo tender? Hath thy house receiv\u2019d indeed\nNothing but benefits at Trojan hands?\nOf that abhorred race, let not a man\nEscape the deadly vengeance of our arms;\nNo, not the infant in its mother\u2019s womb;\nNo, nor the fugitive; but be they all,\nThey and their city, utterly destroy\u2019d,\nUncar\u2019d for, and from mem\u2019ry blotted out.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, his counsel, fraught with death,\nHis brother\u2019s purpose chang\u2019d; he with his hand\nAdrastus thrust aside, whom with his lance\nFierce Agamemnon through the loins transfix\u2019d;\nAnd, as he roll\u2019d in death, upon his breast\nPlanting his foot, the ashen spear withdrew.\n\nThen loudly Nestor shouted to the Greeks:\n\u201cFriends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars!\nLoiter not now behind, to throw yourselves\nUpon the prey, and bear it to the ships;\nLet all your aim be now to kill; anon\nYe may at leisure spoil your slaughter\u2019d foes.\u201d\n\nWith words like these he fir\u2019d the blood of all.\nNow had the Trojans by the warlike Greeks\nIn coward flight within their walls been driv\u2019n;\nBut to \u00c6neas and to Hector thus\nThe son of Priam, Helenus, the best\nOf all the Trojan seers, address\u2019d his speech:\n\u201c\u00c6neas, and thou Hector, since on you,\nOf all the Trojans and the Lycian hosts,\nIs laid the heaviest burthen, for that ye\nExcel alike in council and in fight,\nStand here awhile, and moving to and fro\nOn ev\u2019ry side, around the gates exhort\nThe troops to rally, lest they fall disgrac\u2019d,\nFlying for safety to their women\u2019s arms,\nAnd foes, exulting, triumph in their shame.\nTheir courage thus restor\u2019d, worn as we are,\nWe with the Greeks will still maintain the fight,\nFor so, perforce, we must; but, Hector, thou\nHaste to the city; there our mother find,\nBoth thine and mine; on Ilium\u2019s topmost height\nBy all the aged dames accompanied,\nBid her the shrine of blue-ey\u2019d Pallas seek;\nUnlock the sacred gates; and on the knees\nOf fair-hair\u2019d Pallas place the fairest robe\nIn all the house, the amplest, best esteem\u2019d;\nAnd at her altar vow to sacrifice\nTwelve yearling kine that never felt the goad,\nSo she have pity on the Trojan state,\nOur wives, and helpless babes, and turn away\nThe fiery son of Tydeus, spearman fierce,\nThe Minister of Terror; bravest he,\nIn my esteem, of all the Grecian chiefs:\nFor not Achilles\u2019 self, the prince of men,\nThough Goddess-born, such dread inspir\u2019d; so fierce\nHis rage; and with his prowess none may vie.\u201d\n\nHe said, nor uncomplying, Hector heard\nHis brother\u2019s counsel; from his car he leap\u2019d\nIn arms upon the plain; and brandish\u2019d high\nHis jav\u2019lins keen, and moving to and fro\nThe troops encourag\u2019d, and restor\u2019d the fight.\nRallying they turn\u2019d, and fac\u2019d again the Greeks:\nThese ceas\u2019d from slaughter, and in turn gave way,\nDeeming that from the starry Heav\u2019n some God\nHad to the rescue come; so fierce they turn\u2019d.\nThen to the Trojans Hector call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cYe valiant Trojans, and renown\u2019d Allies,\nQuit you like men; remember now, brave friends,\nYour wonted valour; I to Ilium go\nTo bid our wives and rev\u2019rend Elders raise\nTo Heav\u2019n their pray\u2019rs, with vows of hecatombs.\u201d\n\nThus saying, Hector of the glancing helm\nTurn\u2019d to depart; and as he mov\u2019d along,\nThe black bull\u2019s-hide his neck and ancles smote,\nThe outer circle of his bossy shield.\n\nThen Tydeus\u2019 son, and Glaucus, in the midst,\nSon of Hippolochus, stood forth to fight;\nBut when they near were met, to Glaucus first\nThe valiant Diomed his speech address\u2019d:\n\u201cWho art thou, boldest man of mortal birth?\nFor in the glorious conflict heretofore\nI ne\u2019er have seen thee; but in daring now\nThou far surpassest all, who hast not fear\u2019d\nTo face my spear; of most unhappy sires\nThe children they, who my encounter meet.\nBut if from Heav\u2019n thou com\u2019st, and art indeed\nA God, I fight not with the heav\u2019nly powers.\nNot long did Dryas\u2019 son, Lycurgus brave,\nSurvive, who dar\u2019d th\u2019 Immortals to defy:\nHe, \u2019mid their frantic orgies, in the groves\nOf lovely Nyssa, put to shameful rout\nThe youthful Bacchus\u2019 nurses; they, in fear,\nDropp\u2019d each her thyrsus, scatter\u2019d by the hand\nOf fierce Lycurgus, with an ox-goad arm\u2019d.\nBacchus himself beneath the ocean wave\nIn terror plung\u2019d, and, trembling, refuge found\nIn Thetis\u2019 bosom from a mortal\u2019s threats:\nThe Gods indignant saw, and Saturn\u2019s son\nSmote him with blindness; nor surviv\u2019d he long,\nHated alike by all th\u2019 immortal Gods.\nI dare not then the blessed Gods oppose;\nBut be thou mortal, and the fruits of earth\nThy food, approach, and quickly meet thy doom.\u201d\n\nTo whom the noble Glaucus thus replied:\n\u201cGreat son of Tydeus, why my race enquire?\nThe race of man is as the race of leaves:\nOf leaves, one generation by the wind\nIs scattered on the earth; another soon\nIn spring\u2019s luxuriant verdure bursts to light.\nSo with our race; these flourish, those decay.\nBut if thou wouldst in truth enquire and learn\nThe race I spring from, not unknown of men;\nThere is a city, in the deep recess\nOf pastoral Argos, Ephyre by name:\nThere Sisyphus of old his dwelling had,\nOf mortal men the craftiest; Sisyphus,\nThe son of \u00c6olus; to him was born\nGlaucus; and Glaucus in his turn begot\nBellerophon, on whom the Gods bestow\u2019d\nThe gifts of beauty and of manly grace.\nBut Proetus sought his death; and, mightier far,\nFrom all the coasts of Argos drove him forth,\nTo Proetus subjected by Jove\u2019s decree.\nFor him the monarch\u2019s wife, Antaea, nurs\u2019d\nA madd\u2019ning passion, and to guilty love\nWould fain have tempted him; but fail\u2019d to move\nThe upright soul of chaste Bellerophon.\nWith lying words she then address\u2019d the King:\n\u2018Die, Proetus, thou, or slay Bellerophon,\nWho basely sought my honour to assail.\u2019\nThe King with anger listen\u2019d to her words;\nSlay him he would not; that his soul abhorr\u2019d;\nBut to the father of his wife, the King\nOf Lycia, sent him forth, with tokens charg\u2019d\nOf dire import, on folded tablets trac\u2019d,\nPois\u2019ning the monarch\u2019s mind, to work his death.\nTo Lycia, guarded by the Gods, he went;\nBut when he came to Lycia, and the streams\nOf Xanthus, there with hospitable rites\nThe King of wide-spread Lycia welcom\u2019d him.\nNine days he feasted him, nine oxen slew;\nBut with the tenth return of rosy morn\nHe question\u2019d him, and for the tokens ask\u2019d\nHe from his son-in-law, from Proetus, bore.\nThe tokens\u2019 fatal import understood,\nHe bade him first the dread Chimaera slay;\nA monster, sent from Heav\u2019n, not human born,\nWith head of lion, and a serpent\u2019s tail,\nAnd body of a goat; and from her mouth\nThere issued flames of fiercely-burning fire:\nYet her, confiding in the Gods, he slew.\nNext, with the valiant Solymi he fought,\nThe fiercest fight that e\u2019er he undertook.\nThirdly, the women-warriors he o\u2019erthrew,\nThe Amazons; from whom returning home,\nThe King another stratagem devis\u2019d;\nFor, choosing out the best of Lycia\u2019s sons,\nHe set an ambush; they return\u2019d not home,\nFor all by brave Bellerophon were slain.\nBut, by his valour when the King perceiv\u2019d\nHis heav\u2019nly birth, he entertain\u2019d him well;\nGave him his daughter; and with her the half\nOf all his royal honours he bestow\u2019d:\nA portion too the Lycians meted out,\nFertile in corn and wine, of all the state\nThe choicest land, to be his heritage.\nThree children there to brave Bellerophon\nWere born; Isander, and Hippolochus,\nLaodamia last, belov\u2019d of Jove,\nThe Lord of counsel; and to him she bore\nGodlike Sarpedon of the brazen helm.\nBellerophon at length the wrath incurr\u2019d\nOf all the Gods; and to th\u2019 Aleian plain\nAlone he wander\u2019d; there he wore away\nHis soul, and shunn\u2019d the busy haunts of men.\nInsatiate Mars his son Isander slew\nIn battle with the valiant Solymi:\nHis daughter perish\u2019d by Diana\u2019s wrath.\nI from Hippolochus my birth derive:\nTo Troy he sent me, and enjoin\u2019d me oft\nTo aim at highest honours, and surpass\nMy comrades all; nor on my father\u2019s name\nDiscredit bring, who held the foremost place\nIn Ephyre, and Lycia\u2019s wide domain.\nSuch is my race, and such the blood I boast.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Diomed rejoicing heard:\nHis spear he planted in the fruitful ground,\nAnd thus with friendly words the chief address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cBy ancient ties of friendship are we bound;\nFor godlike \u0152neus in his house receiv\u2019d\nFor twenty days the brave Bellerophon;\nThey many a gift of friendship interchang\u2019d;\nA belt, with crimson glowing, \u0152neus gave;\nBellerophon a double cup of gold,\nWhich in my house I left when here I came.\nOf Tydeus no remembrance I retain;\nFor yet a child he left me, when he fell\nWith his Achaians at the gate of Thebes.\nSo I in Argos am thy friendly host;\nThou mine in Lycia, when I thither come:\nThen shun we, e\u2019en amid the thickest fight,\nEach other\u2019s lance; enough there are for me\nOf Trojans and their brave allies to kill,\nAs Heav\u2019n may aid me, and my speed of foot;\nAnd Greeks enough there are for thee to slay,\nIf so indeed thou canst; but let us now\nOur armour interchange, that these may know\nWhat friendly bonds of old our houses join.\u201d\nThus as they spoke, they quitted each his car;\nClasp\u2019d hand in hand, and plighted mutual faith.\nThen Glaucus of his judgment Jove depriv\u2019d,\nHis armour interchanging, gold for brass,\nA hundred oxen\u2019s worth for that of nine.\n\nMeanwhile, when Hector reach\u2019d the oak beside\nThe Scaean gate, around him throng\u2019d the wives\nOf Troy, and daughters, anxious to enquire\nThe fate of children, brothers, husbands, friends;\nHe to the Gods exhorted all to pray,\nFor deep the sorrows that o\u2019er many hung.\nBut when to Priam\u2019s splendid house he came,\nWith polish\u2019d corridors adorn\u2019d\u2014within\nWere fifty chambers, all of polish\u2019d stone,\nPlac\u2019d each by other; there the fifty sons\nOf Priam with their wedded wives repos\u2019d;\nOn th\u2019 other side, within the court were built\nTwelve chambers, near the roof, of polish\u2019d stone,\nPlac\u2019d each by other; there the sons-in-law\nOf Priam with their spouses chaste repos\u2019d;\nTo meet him there his tender mother came,\nAnd with her led the young Laodice,\nFairest of all her daughters; clasping then\nHis hands, she thus address\u2019d him: \u201cWhy, my son,\nWhy com\u2019st thou here, and leav\u2019st the battle-field?\nAre Trojans by those hateful sons of Greece,\nFighting around the city, sorely press\u2019d?\nAnd com\u2019st thou, by thy spirit mov\u2019d, to raise,\nOn Ilium\u2019s heights, thy hands in pray\u2019r to Jove?\nBut tarry till I bring the luscious wine,\nThat first to Jove, and to th\u2019 Immortals all,\nThou mayst thine off\u2019ring pour; then with the draught\nThyself thou mayst refresh; for great the strength\nWhich gen\u2019rous wine imparts to men who toil,\nAs thou hast toil\u2019d, thy comrades to protect.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cNo, not for me, mine honour\u2019d mother, pour\nThe luscious wine, lest thou unnerve my limbs,\nAnd make me all my wonted prowess lose.\nThe ruddy wine I dare not pour to Jove\nWith hands unwash\u2019d; nor to the cloud-girt son\nOf Saturn may the voice of pray\u2019r ascend\nFrom one with blood bespatter\u2019d and defil\u2019d.\nThou, with the elder women, seek the shrine\nOf Pallas; bring your gifts; and on the knees\nOf fair-hair\u2019d Pallas place the fairest robe\nIn all the house, the amplest, best esteem\u2019d;\nAnd at her altar vow to sacrifice\nTwelve yearling kine, that never felt the goad;\nSo she have pity on the Trojan state,\nOur wives, and helpless babes; and turn away\nThe fiery son of Tydeus, spearman fierce,\nThe Minister of Terror; to the shrine\nOf Pallas thou; to Paris I, to call\nIf haply he will hear; would that the earth\nWould gape and swallow him! for great the curse\nThat Jove thro\u2019 him hath brought on men of Troy,\nOn noble Priam, and on Priam\u2019s sons.\nCould I but know that he were in his grave,\nMethinks my sorrows I could half forget.\u201d\n\nHe said: she, to the house returning, sent\nTh\u2019 attendants through the city, to collect\nThe train of aged suppliants; she meanwhile\nHer fragrant chamber sought, wherein were stor\u2019d\nRich garments by Sidonian women work\u2019d,\nWhom godlike Paris had from Sidon brought,\nSailing the broad sea o\u2019er, the selfsame path\nBy which the high-born Helen he convey\u2019d.\nOf these, the richest in embroidery,\nThe amplest, and the brightest, as a star\nRefulgent, plac\u2019d with care beneath the rest,\nThe Queen her off\u2019ring bore to Pallas\u2019 shrine:\nShe went, and with her many an ancient dame.\nBut when the shrine they reach\u2019d on Ilium\u2019s height,\nTheano, fair of face, the gates unlock\u2019d,\nDaughter of Cisseus, sage Antenor\u2019s wife,\nBy Trojans nam\u2019d at Pallas\u2019 shrine to serve.\nThey with deep moans to Pallas rais\u2019d their hands;\nBut fair Theano took the robe, and plac\u2019d\nOn Pallas\u2019 knees, and to the heav\u2019nly Maid,\nDaughter of Jove, she thus address\u2019d her pray\u2019r:\n\u201cGuardian of cities, Pallas, awful Queen,\nGoddess of Goddesses, break thou the spear\nOf Tydeus\u2019 son; and grant that he himself\nProstrate before the Scaean gates may fall;\nSo at thine altar will we sacrifice\nTwelve yearling kine, that never felt the goad,\nIf thou have pity on the state of Troy,\nThe wives of Trojans, and their helpless babes.\u201d\n\nThus she; but Pallas answer\u2019d not her pray\u2019r.\nWhile thus they call\u2019d upon the heav\u2019nly Maid,\nHector to Paris\u2019 mansion bent his way;\nA noble structure, which himself had built\nAided by all the best artificers\nWho in the fertile realm of Troy were known;\nWith chambers, hall, and court, on Ilium\u2019s height,\nNear to where Priam\u2019s self and Hector dwelt.\nThere enter\u2019d Hector, well belov\u2019d of Jove;\nAnd in his hand his pond\u2019rous spear he bore,\nTwelve cubits long; bright flash\u2019d the weapon\u2019s point\nOf polish\u2019d brass, with circling hoop of gold.\nThere in his chamber found he whom he sought,\nAbout his armour busied, polishing\nHis shield, his breastplate, and his bended bow.\nWhile Argive Helen, \u2019mid her maidens plac\u2019d,\nThe skilful labours of their hands o\u2019erlook\u2019d.\nTo him thus Hector with reproachful words;\n\u201cThou dost not well thine anger to indulge;\nIn battle round the city\u2019s lofty wall\nThe people fast are falling; thou the cause\nThat fiercely thus around the city burns\nThe flame of war and battle; and thyself\nWouldst others blame, who from the fight should shrink.\nUp, ere the town be wrapp\u2019d in hostile fires.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer godlike Paris thus:\n\u201cHector, I own not causeless thy rebuke;\nYet will I speak; hear thou and understand;\n\u2019Twas less from anger with the Trojan host,\nAnd fierce resentment, that I here remain\u2019d,\nThan that I sought my sorrow to indulge;\nYet hath my wife, e\u2019en now, with soothing words\nUrg\u2019d me to join the battle; so, I own,\n\u2019Twere best; and Vict\u2019ry changes oft her side.\nThen stay, while I my armour don; or thou\nGo first: I, following, will o\u2019ertake thee soon.\u201d\n\nHe said: but Hector of the glancing helm\nMade answer none; then thus with gentle tones\nHelen accosted him: \u201cDear brother mine,\n(Of me, degraded, sorrow-bringing, vile!)\nOh that the day my mother gave me birth\nSome storm had on the mountains cast me forth!\nOr that the many-dashing ocean\u2019s waves\nHad swept me off, ere all this woe were wrought!\nYet if these evils were of Heav\u2019n ordain\u2019d,\nWould that a better man had call\u2019d me wife;\nA sounder judge of honour and disgrace:\nFor he, thou know\u2019st, no firmness hath of mind,\nNor ever will; a want he well may rue.\nBut come thou in, and rest thee here awhile,\nDear brother, on this couch; for travail sore\nEncompasseth thy soul, by me impos\u2019d,\nDegraded as I am, and Paris\u2019 guilt;\nOn whom this burthen Heav\u2019n hath laid, that shame\nOn both our names through years to come shall rest.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cThough kind thy wish, yet, Helen, ask me not\nTo sit or rest; I cannot yield to thee:\nFor to the succour of our friends I haste,\nWho feel my loss, and sorely need my aid.\nBut thou thy husband rouse, and let him speed,\nThat he may find me still within the walls.\nFor I too homeward go; to see once more\nMy household, and my wife, and infant child:\nFor whether I may e\u2019er again return,\nI know not, or if Heav\u2019n have so decreed,\nThat I this day by Grecian hands should fall.\u201d\n\nThus saying, Hector of the glancing helm\nTurn\u2019d to depart; with rapid step he reach\u2019d\nHis own well-furnished house, but found not there\nHis white-arm\u2019d spouse, the fair Andromache.\nShe with her infant child and maid the while\nWas standing, bath\u2019d in tears, in bitter grief,\nOn Ilium\u2019s topmost tower: but when her Lord\nFound not within the house his peerless wife,\nUpon the threshold pausing, thus he spoke:\n\u201cTell me, my maidens, tell me true, which way\nYour mistress went, the fair Andromache;\nOr to my sisters, or my brothers\u2019 wives?\nOr to the temple where the fair-hair\u2019d dames\nOf Troy invoke Minerva\u2019s awful name?\u201d\n\nTo whom the matron of his house replied:\n\u201cHector, if truly we must answer thee,\nNot to thy sisters, nor thy brothers\u2019 wives,\nNor to the temple where the fair-hair\u2019d dames\nOf Troy invoke Minerva\u2019s awful name,\nBut to the height of Ilium\u2019s topmost tow\u2019r\nAndromache is gone; since tidings came\nThe Trojan force was overmatch\u2019d, and great\nThe Grecian strength; whereat, like one distract,\nShe hurried to the walls, and with her took,\nBorne in the nurse\u2019s arms, her infant child.\u201d\n\nSo spoke the ancient dame; and Hector straight\nThrough the wide streets his rapid steps retrac\u2019d.\nBut when at last the mighty city\u2019s length\nWas travers\u2019d, and the Scaean gates were reach\u2019d,\nWhence was the outlet to the plain, in haste\nRunning to meet him came his priceless wife,\nEetion\u2019s daughter, fair Andromache;\nEetion, who from Thebes Cilicia sway\u2019d,\nThebes, at the foot of Placos\u2019 wooded heights.\nHis child to Hector of the brazen helm\nWas giv\u2019n in marriage: she it was who now\nMet him, and by her side the nurse, who bore,\nClasp\u2019d to her breast, his all unconscious child,\nHector\u2019s lov\u2019d infant, fair as morning star;\nWhom Hector call\u2019d Scamandrius, but the rest\nAstyanax, in honour of his sire,\nThe matchless chief, the only prop of Troy.\nSilent he smil\u2019d as on his boy he gaz\u2019d:\nBut at his side Andromache, in tears,\nHung on his arm, and thus the chief address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cDear Lord, thy dauntless spirit will work thy doom:\nNor hast thou pity on this thy helpless child,\nOr me forlorn, to be thy widow soon:\nFor thee will all the Greeks with force combin\u2019d\nAssail and slay: for me, \u2019twere better far,\nOf thee bereft, to lie beneath the sod;\nNor comfort shall be mine, if thou be lost,\nBut endless grief; to me nor sire is left,\nNor honour\u2019d mother; fell Achilles\u2019 hand\nMy sire Eetion slew, what time his arms\nThe populous city of Cilicia raz\u2019d,\nThe lofty-gated Thebes; he slew indeed,\nBut stripp\u2019d him not; he reverenc\u2019d the dead;\nAnd o\u2019er his body, with his armour burnt,\nA mound erected; and the mountain nymphs,\nThe progeny of aegis-bearing Jove,\nPlanted around his tomb a grove of elms.\nThere were sev\u2019n brethren in my father\u2019s house;\nAll in one day they fell, amid their herds\nAnd fleecy flocks, by fierce Achilles\u2019 hand.\nMy mother, Queen of Placos\u2019 wooded height,\nBrought with the captives here, he soon releas\u2019d\nFor costly ransom; but by Dian\u2019s shafts\nShe, in her father\u2019s house, was stricken down.\nBut, Hector, thou to me art all in one,\nSire, mother, brethren! thou, my wedded love!\nThen pitying us, within the tow\u2019r remain,\nNor make thy child an orphan, and thy wife\nA hapless widow; by the fig-tree here\nArray thy troops; for here the city wall,\nEasiest of access, most invites assault.\nThrice have their boldest chiefs this point assail\u2019d,\nThe two Ajaces, brave Idomeneus,\nTh\u2019 Atridae both, and Tydeus\u2019 warlike son,\nOr by the prompting of some Heav\u2019n-taught seer,\nOr by their own advent\u2019rous courage led.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm;\n\u201cThink not, dear wife, that by such thoughts as these\nMy heart has ne\u2019er been wrung; but I should blush\nTo face the men and long-rob\u2019d dames of Troy,\nIf, like a coward, I could shun the fight.\nNor could my soul the lessons of my youth\nSo far forget, whose boast it still has been\nIn the fore-front of battle to be found,\nCharg\u2019d with my father\u2019s glory and mine own.\nYet in my inmost soul too well I know,\nThe day must come when this our sacred Troy,\nAnd Priam\u2019s race, and Priam\u2019s royal self\nShall in one common ruin be o\u2019erthrown.\nBut not the thoughts of Troy\u2019s impending fate,\nNor Hecuba\u2019s nor royal Priam\u2019s woes,\nNor loss of brethren, numerous and brave,\nBy hostile hands laid prostrate in the dust,\nSo deeply wring my heart as thoughts of thee,\nThy days of freedom lost, and led away\nA weeping captive by some brass-clad Greek;\nHaply in Argos, at a mistress\u2019 beck,\nCondemn\u2019d to ply the loom, or water draw\nFrom Hypereia\u2019s or Messeis\u2019 fount,\nHeart-wrung, by stern necessity constrain\u2019d.\nThen they who see thy tears perchance may say,\n\u2018Lo! this was Hector\u2019s wife, who, when they fought\nOn plains of Troy, was Ilium\u2019s bravest chief.\u2019\nThus may they speak; and thus thy grief renew\nFor loss of him, who might have been thy shield\nTo rescue thee from slav\u2019ry\u2019s bitter hour.\nOh may I sleep in dust, ere be condemn\u2019d\nTo hear thy cries, and see thee dragg\u2019d away!\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, great Hector stretch\u2019d his arms\nTo take his child; but back the infant shrank,\nCrying, and sought his nurse\u2019s shelt\u2019ring breast,\nScar\u2019d by the brazen helm and horse-hair plume,\nThat nodded, fearful, on the warrior\u2019s crest.\nLaugh\u2019d the fond parents both, and from his brow\nHector the casque remov\u2019d, and set it down,\nAll glitt\u2019ring, on the ground; then kiss\u2019d his child,\nAnd danc\u2019d him in his arms; then thus to Jove\nAnd to th\u2019 Immortals all address\u2019d his pray\u2019r:\n\u201cGrant, Jove, and all ye Gods, that this my son\nMay be, as I, the foremost man of Troy,\nFor valour fam\u2019d, his country\u2019s guardian King;\nThat men may say, \u2018This youth surpasses far\nHis father,\u2019 when they see him from the fight,\nFrom slaughter\u2019d foes, with bloody spoils of war\nReturning, to rejoice his mother\u2019s heart!\u201d\n\nThus saying, in his mother\u2019s arms he plac\u2019d\nHis child; she to her fragrant bosom clasp\u2019d,\nSmiling through tears; with eyes of pitying love\nHector beheld, and press\u2019d her hand, and thus\nAddress\u2019d her\u2014\u201cDearest, wring not thus my heart!\nFor till my day of destiny is come,\nNo man may take my life; and when it comes,\nNor brave nor coward can escape that day.\nBut go thou home, and ply thy household cares,\nThe loom, and distaff, and appoint thy maids\nTheir sev\u2019ral tasks; and leave to men of Troy\nAnd, chief of all to me, the toils of war.\u201d\n\nGreat Hector said, and rais\u2019d his plumed helm;\nAnd homeward, slow, with oft-reverted eyes,\nShedding hot tears, his sorrowing wife return\u2019d.\nArriv\u2019d at valiant Hector\u2019s well-built house,\nHer maidens press\u2019d around her; and in all\nArose at once the sympathetic grief.\nFor Hector, yet alive, his household mourn\u2019d,\nDeeming he never would again return,\nSafe from the fight, by Grecian hands unharm\u2019d.\n\nNor linger\u2019d Paris in his lofty halls;\nBut donn\u2019d his armour, glitt\u2019ring o\u2019er with brass,\nAnd through the city pass\u2019d with bounding steps.\nAs some proud steed, at well-fill\u2019d manger fed,\nHis halter broken, neighing, scours the plain,\nAnd revels in the widely-flowing stream\nTo bathe his sides; then tossing high his head,\nWhile o\u2019er his shoulders streams his ample mane.\nLight borne on active limbs, in conscious pride.\nTo the wide pastures of the mares he flies;\nSo Paris, Priam\u2019s son, from Ilium\u2019s height,\nHis bright arms flashing like the gorgeous sun,\nHasten\u2019d, with boastful mien, and rapid step.\nHector he found, as from the spot he turn\u2019d\nWhere with his wife he late had converse held;\nWhom thus the godlike Paris first address\u2019d:\n\u201cToo long, good brother, art then here detain\u2019d,\nImpatient for the fight, by my delay;\nNor have I timely, as thou bad\u2019st me, come.\u201d\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cMy gallant brother, none who thinks aright\nCan cavil at thy prowess in the field;\nFor thou art very valiant; but thy will\nIs weak and sluggish; and it grieves my heart,\nWhen from the Trojans, who in thy behalf\nSuch labours undergo, I hear thy name\nCoupled with foul reproach! But go we now!\nHenceforth shall all be well, if Jove permit\nThat from our shores we drive th\u2019 invading Greeks,\nAnd to the ever-living Gods of Heav\u2019n\nIn peaceful homes our free libations pour.\u201d\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE SINGLE COMBAT OF HECTOR AND AJAX.\n\n\nThe battle renewing with double ardour upon the return of Hector,\nMinerva is under apprehensions for the Greeks. Apollo, seeing her\ndescend from Olympus, joins her near the Scaean gate. They agree to put\noff the general engagement for that day, and incite Hector to challenge\nthe Greeks to a single combat. Nine of the princes accepting the\nchallenge, the lot is cast, and falls upon Ajax. These heroes, after\nseveral attacks, are parted by the night. The Trojans calling a\ncouncil, Antenor proposes the delivery of Helen to the Greeks, to which\nParis will not consent, but offers to restore them her riches. Priam\nsends a herald to make this offer, and to demand a truce for burning\nthe dead, the last of which only is agreed to by Agamemnon. When the\nfunerals are performed, the Greeks, pursuant to the advice of Nestor,\nerect a fortification to protect their fleet and camp, flanked with\ntowers, and defended by a ditch and palisades. Neptune testifies his\njealousy at this work, but is pacified by a promise from Jupiter. Both\narmies pass the night in feasting, but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans\nwith thunder and other signs of his wrath.\n\nThe three-and-twentieth day ends with the duel of Hector and Ajax; the\nnext day the truce is agreed: another is taken up in the funeral rites\nof the slain; and one more in building the fortification before the\nships; so that somewhat above three days is employed in this book. The\nscene lies wholly in the field.\n\nBOOK VII.\n\nThus as he spoke, from out the city gates\nThe noble Hector pass\u2019d, and by his side\nHis brother Paris; in the breast of both\nBurnt the fierce ardour of the battle-field.\nAs when some God a fav\u2019ring breeze bestows\nOn seamen tugging at the well-worn oar,\nFaint with excess of toil, ev\u2019n so appear\u2019d\nThose brethren twain to Troy\u2019s o\u2019erlabour\u2019d host.\n\nThen to their prowess fell, by Paris\u2019 hand\nMenesthius, royal Areithous\u2019 son,\nWhom to the King, in Arna, where he dwelt,\nThe stag-ey\u2019d dame Phylomedusa bore;\nWhile Hector smote, with well-directed spear,\nBeneath the brass-bound headpiece, through the throat,\nEioneus, and slack\u2019d his limbs in death;\nAnd Glaucus, leader of the Lycian bands,\nSon of Hippolochus, amid the fray\nIphinous, son of Dexias, borne on high\nBy two fleet mares upon a lofty car,\nPierc\u2019d through the shoulder; from the car he fell\nProne to the earth, his limbs relax\u2019d in death.\nBut them when Pallas saw, amid the fray\nDealing destruction on the hosts of Greece,\nFrom high Olympus to the walls of Troy\nShe came in haste; Apollo there she found,\nAs down he look\u2019d from Ilium\u2019s topmost tow\u2019r,\nDevising vict\u2019ry to the arms of Troy.\nBeside the oak they met; Apollo first,\nThe son of Jove, the colloquy began:\n\u201cDaughter of Jove, from great Olympus\u2019 heights,\nWhy com\u2019st thou here, by angry passion led?\nWouldst thou the vict\u2019ry, swaying here and there,\nGive to the Greeks? since pitiless thou see\u2019st\nThe Trojans slaughter\u2019d? Be advis\u2019d by me,\nFor so \u2019twere better; cause we for today\nThe rage of battle and of war to cease;\nTo-morrow morn shall see the fight renew\u2019d,\nUntil the close of Ilium\u2019s destiny;\nFor so ye Goddesses have wrought your will,\nThat this fair city should in ruin fall.\u201d\n\nTo whom the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess thus replied:\n\u201cSo be it, Archer-King; with like intent\nI from Olympus came; but say, what means\nWilt thou devise to bid the conflict cease?\u201d\n\nTo whom Apollo, royal son of Jove:\n\u201cThe might of valiant Hector let us move\nTo challenge to the combat, man to man,\nSome Grecian warrior; while the brass-clad Greeks\nTheir champion urge the challenge to accept,\nAnd godlike Hector meet in single fight.\u201d\n\nHe said; nor did Minerva not assent;\nBut Helenus, the son of Priam, knew\nThe secret counsel by the Gods devis\u2019d;\nAnd drawing near to Hector, thus he spoke:\n\u201cHector, thou son of Priam, sage as Jove\nIn council, hearken to a brother\u2019s words.\nBid that the Greeks and Trojans all sit down,\nAnd thou defy the boldest of the Greeks\nWith thee in single combat to contend;\nBy revelation from th\u2019 eternal Gods,\nI know that here thou shalt not meet thy fate.\u201d\n\nHe said, and Hector joy\u2019d to hear his words;\nForth in the midst he stepp\u2019d, and with his spear\nGrasp\u2019d in the middle, stay\u2019d the Trojan ranks.\nWith one accord they sat; on th\u2019 other side\nAtrides bade the well-greav\u2019d Greeks sit down;\nWhile, in the likeness of two vultures, sat\nOn the tall oak of aegis-bearing Jove,\nPallas, and Phoebus of the silver bow,\nWith heroes\u2019 deeds delighted; dense around\nBristled the ranks, with shield, and helm, and spear.\nAs when the west wind freshly blows, and brings\nA dark\u2019ning ripple o\u2019er the ocean waves,\nE\u2019en so appear\u2019d upon the plain the ranks\nOf Greeks and Trojans; standing in the midst,\nThus to both armies noble Hector spoke:\n\u201cHear, all ye Trojans, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nThe words I speak, the promptings of my soul.\nIt hath not pleas\u2019d high-thron\u2019d Saturnian Jove\nTo ratify our truce, who both afflicts\nWith labours hard, till either ye shall take\nOur well-fenc\u2019d city, or yourselves to us\nSuccumb beside your ocean-going ships.\nHere have ye all the chiefest men of Greece;\nOf all, let him who dares with me to fight,\nStand forth, and godlike Hector\u2019s might confront.\nAnd this I say, and call to witness Jove,\nIf with the sharp-edg\u2019d spear he vanquish me,\nHe shall strip off, and to the hollow ships\nIn triumph bear my armour; but my corpse\nRestore, that so the men and wives of Troy\nMay deck with honours due my funeral pyre.\nBut, by Apollo\u2019s grace should I prevail,\nI will his arms strip off and bear to Troy,\nAnd in Apollo\u2019s temple hang on high;\nBut to the ships his corpse I will restore,\nThat so the long-hair\u2019d Greeks with solemn rites\nMay bury him, and to his mem\u2019ry raise\nBy the broad Hellespont a lofty tomb;\nAnd men in days to come shall say, who urge\nTheir full-oar\u2019d bark across the dark-blue sea,\n\u2018Lo there a warrior\u2019s tomb of days gone by,\nA mighty chief, whom glorious Hector slew:\u2019\nThus shall they say, and thus my fame shall live.\u201d\n\nThus Hector spoke; they all in silence heard,\nSham\u2019d to refuse, but fearful to accept.\nAt length in anger Menelaus rose,\nGroaning in spirit, and with bitter words\nReproach\u2019d them: \u201cShame, ye braggart cowards, shame!\nWomen of Greece! I cannot call you men!\n\u2019Twere foul disgrace indeed, and scorn on scorn,\nIf Hector\u2019s challenge none of all the Greeks\nShould dare accept; to dust and water turn\nAll ye who here inglorious, heartless sit!\nI will myself confront him; for success,\nTh\u2019 immortal Gods above the issues hold.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, he donn\u2019d his dazzling arms.\nThen, Menelaus, had thine end approach\u2019d\nBy Hector\u2019s hands, so much the stronger he,\nHad not the Kings withheld thee and restrain\u2019d.\nGreat Agamemnon\u2019s self, wide-ruling King,\nSeizing his hand, address\u2019d him thus by name:\n\u201cWhat! Heav\u2019n-born Menelaus, art thou mad?\nBeseems thee not such folly; curb thy wrath,\nThough vex\u2019d; nor think with Hector to contend,\nThy better far, inspiring dread in all.\nFrom his encounter in the glorious fight,\nSuperior far to thee, Achilles shrinks;\nBut thou amid thy comrades\u2019 ranks retire;\nSome other champion will the Greeks provide;\nAnd, fearless as he is, and of the fight\nInsatiate, yet will Hector, should he \u2019scape\nUnwounded from the deadly battle-strife,\nBe fain, methinks, to rest his weary limbs.\u201d\n\nHe said, and with judicious counsel sway\u2019d\nHis brother\u2019s mind; he yielded to his words,\nAnd gladly his attendants doff\u2019d his arms.\n\nThen Nestor rose, and thus address\u2019d the Greeks:\n\u201cAlas, alas! what shame is this for Greece!\nWhat grief would fill the aged Peleus\u2019 soul,\nSage chief in council, of the Myrmidons\nLeader approv\u2019d, who often in his house\nWould question me, and lov\u2019d from me to hear\nOf all the Greeks the race and pedigree,\nCould he but learn how Hector cow\u2019d them all!\nHe to the Gods with hands uprais\u2019d would pray\nHis soul might from his body be divorc\u2019d,\nAnd sink beneath the earth! Oh would to Jove,\nTo Pallas and Apollo, such were now\nMy vig\u2019rous youth, as when beside the banks\nOf swiftly-flowing Celadon, the men\nOf Pylos with th\u2019 Arcadian spearmen fought,\nBy Pheia\u2019s walls, around Iardan\u2019s streams.\nThen from the ranks, in likeness as a God,\nAdvanc\u2019d their champion, Ereuthalion bold.\nThe arms of Areithous he wore:\nOf godlike Areithous, whom men\nAnd richly-girdled women had surnam\u2019d\nThe Macebearer; for not with sword or bow\nHe went to fight, but with an iron mace\nBroke through the squadrons: him Lycurgus slew,\nBy stealth, not brav\u2019ry, in a narrow way,\nWhere nought avail\u2019d his iron mace from death\nTo save him; for Lycurgus, with his spear,\nPreventing, thrust him through the midst; he fell\nProstrate; and from his breast the victor stripp\u2019d\nHis armour off, the gift of brass-clad Mars;\nAnd in the tug of war he wore it oft;\nBut when Lycurgus felt th\u2019 approach of age,\nHe to his faithful follower and friend,\nTo Ereuthalion gave it; therewith, arm\u2019d,\nHe now to combat challeng\u2019d all the chiefs.\nNone dar\u2019d accept, for fear had fallen on all;\nThen I with dauntless spirit his might oppos\u2019d,\nThe youngest of them all; with him I fought,\nAnd Pallas gave the vict\u2019ry to my arm.\nHim there I slew, the tallest, strongest man;\nFor many another there beside him lay.\nWould that my youth and strength were now the same;\nThen soon should Hector of the glancing helm\nA willing champion find; but ye, of Greece\nThe foremost men, with Hector fear to fight.\u201d\n\nThe old man spoke reproachful; at his words\nUp rose nine warriors: far before the rest,\nThe monarch Agamemnon, King of men;\nNext Tydeus\u2019 son, the valiant Diomed;\nThe two Ajaces, cloth\u2019d with courage high;\nIdomeneus, and of Idomeneus\nThe faithful follower, brave Meriones,\nEqual in fight to blood-stain\u2019d Mars; with these\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s noble son;\nThoas, Andraemon\u2019s son; Ulysses last:\nThese all with Hector offer\u2019d to contend.\nThen thus again Gerenian Nestor spoke:\n\u201cShake then the lots; on whomsoe\u2019er it fall,\nGreat profit shall he bring to Grecian arms,\nGreat glory to himself, if he escape\nUnwounded from the deadly battle strife.\u201d\nHe said: each mark\u2019d his sev\u2019ral lot, and all\nTogether threw in Agamemnon\u2019s helm.\nThe crowd, with hands uplifted, pray\u2019d the Gods,\nAnd looking heav\u2019nward, said, \u201cGrant, Father Jove,\nThe lot on Ajax, or on Tydeus\u2019 son,\nOr on Mycen\u00e6\u2019s wealthy King may fall.\u201d\n\nThus they: then aged Nestor shook the helm,\nAnd forth, according to their wish, was thrown\nThe lot of Ajax; then from left to right\nA herald show\u2019d to all the chiefs of Greece,\nIn turn, the token; they who knew it not,\nDisclaim\u2019d it all; but when to him he came\nWho mark\u2019d, and threw it in Atrides\u2019 helm,\nThe noble Ajax, and, approaching, placed\nThe token in his outstretch\u2019d hand, forthwith\nHe knew it, and rejoic\u2019d; before his feet\nHe threw it down upon the ground, and said,\n\u201cO friends, the lot is mine; great is my joy,\nAnd hope o\u2019er godlike Hector to prevail.\nBut now, while I my warlike armour don,\nPray ye to Saturn\u2019s royal son, apart,\nIn silence, that the Trojans hear ye not;\nOr ev\u2019n aloud, for nought have we to fear.\nNo man against my will can make me fly,\nBy greater force or skill; nor will, I hope,\nMy inexperience in the field disgrace\nThe teaching of my native Salamis.\u201d\n\nThus he; and they to Saturn\u2019s royal son\nAddress\u2019d their pray\u2019rs, and looking heav\u2019nward, said:\n\u201cO Father Jove, who rul\u2019st on Ida\u2019s height!\nMost great! most glorious! grant that Ajax now\nMay gain the vict\u2019ry, and immortal praise:\nOr if thy love and pity Hector claim,\nGive equal pow\u2019r and equal praise to both.\u201d\n\nAjax meanwhile in dazzling brass was clad;\nAnd when his armour all was duly donn\u2019d,\nForward he mov\u2019d, as when gigantic Mars\nLeads nations forth to war, whom Saturn\u2019s son\nIn life-destroying conflict hath involv\u2019d;\nSo mov\u2019d the giant Ajax, prop of Greece,\nWith sternly smiling mien; with haughty stride\nHe trod the plain, and pois\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear.\nThe Greeks, rejoicing, on their champion gaz\u2019d,\nThe Trojans\u2019 limbs beneath them shook with fear;\nEv\u2019n Hector\u2019s heart beat quicker in his breast;\nYet quail he must not now, nor back retreat\nAmid his comrades\u2014he, the challenger!\nAjax approach\u2019d; before him, as a tow\u2019r\nHis mighty shield he bore, sev\u2019n-fold, brass-bound,\nThe work of Tychius, best artificer\nThat wrought in leather; he in Hyla dwelt.\nOf sev\u2019n-fold hides the pond\u2019rous shield was wrought\nOf lusty bulls; the eighth was glitt\u2019ring brass.\nThis by the son of Telamon was borne\nBefore his breast; to Hector close he came,\nAnd thus with words of haughty menace spoke:\n\n\u201cHector, I now shall teach thee, man to man,\nThe mettle of the chiefs we yet possess,\nAlthough Achilles of the lion heart,\nMighty in battle, be not with us still;\nHe by his ocean-going ships indeed\nAgainst Atrides nurses still his wrath;\nYet are there those who dare encounter thee,\nAnd not a few; then now begin the fight.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cAjax, brave leader, son of Telamon,\nDeal not with me as with a feeble child,\nOr woman, ign\u2019rant of the ways of war;\nOf war and carnage every point I know;\nAnd well I know to wield, now right, now left,\nThe tough bull\u2019s-hide that forms my stubborn targe:\nWell know I too my fiery steeds to urge,\nAnd raise the war-cry in the standing fight.\nBut not in secret ambush would I watch,\nTo strike, by stealth, a noble foe like thee;\nBut slay thee, if I may, in open fight.\u201d\n\nHe said; and, poising, hurl\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear;\nThe brazen cov\u2019ring of the shield it struck,\nThe outward fold, the eighth, above the sev\u2019n\nOf tough bull\u2019s-hide; through six it drove its way\nWith stubborn force; but in the seventh was stay\u2019d,\nThen Ajax hurl\u2019d in turn his pond\u2019rous spear,\nAnd struck the circle true of Hector\u2019s shield;\nRight thro\u2019 the glitt\u2019ring shield the stout spear pass\u2019d,\nAnd thro\u2019 the well-wrought breastplate drove its way;\nAnd, underneath, the linen vest it tore;\nBut Hector, stooping, shunn\u2019d the stroke of death.\nWithdrawing then their weapons, each on each\nThey fell, like lions fierce, or tusked boars,\nIn strength the mightiest of the forest beasts.\nThen Hector fairly on the centre struck\nThe stubborn shield; yet drove not through the spear;\nFor the stout brass the blunted point repell\u2019d.\nBut Ajax, with a forward bound, the shield\nOf Hector pierc\u2019d; right through the weapon pass\u2019d;\nArrested with rude shock the warrior\u2019s course,\nAnd graz\u2019d his neck, that spouted forth the blood.\nYet did not Hector of the glancing helm\nFlinch from the contest: stooping to the ground,\nWith his broad hand a pond\u2019rous stone he seiz\u2019d,\nThat lay upon the plain, dark, jagg\u2019d, and huge,\nAnd hurl\u2019d against the sev\u2019n-fold shield, and struck\nFull on the central boss; loud rang the brass:\nThen Ajax rais\u2019d a weightier mass of rock\nAnd sent it whirling, giving to his arm\nUnmeasur\u2019d impulse; with a millstone\u2019s weight\nIt crush\u2019d the buckler; Hector\u2019s knees gave way;\nBackward he stagger\u2019d, yet upon his shield\nSustain\u2019d, till Phoebus rais\u2019d him to his feet.\nNow had they hand to hand with swords engag\u2019d,\nHad not the messengers of Gods and men,\nThe heralds, interpos\u2019d; the one for Troy,\nThe other umpire for the brass-clad Greeks,\nTalthybius and Idaeus, well approv\u2019d.\nBetween the chiefs they held their wands, and thus\nIdaeus both with prudent speech address\u2019d:\n\u201cNo more, brave youths! no longer wage the fight:\nTo cloud-compelling Jove ye both are dear,\nBoth valiant spearmen; that, we all have seen.\nNight is at hand; behoves us yield to night.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the son of Telamon:\n\u201cIdaeus, bid that Hector speak those words:\nHe challeng\u2019d all our chiefs; let him begin:\nIf he be willing, I shall not refuse.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cAjax, since God hath giv\u2019n thee size, and strength,\nAnd skill; and with the spear, of all the Greeks\nNone is thine equal; cease we for to-day\nThe fight; hereafter we may meet, and Heav\u2019n\nDecide our cause, and one with vict\u2019ry crown.\nNight is at hand; behoves us yield to night.\nSo by the ships shalt thou rejoice the Greeks,\nAnd most of all, thy comrades and thy friends;\nAnd so shall I, in Priam\u2019s royal town,\nRejoice the men of Troy, and long-rob\u2019d dames,\nWho shall with grateful pray\u2019rs the temples throng.\nBut make we now an interchange of gifts,\nThat both the Trojans and the Greeks may say,\n\u2018On mortal quarrel did those warriors meet,\nYet parted thence in friendly bonds conjoin\u2019d.\u2019\u201d\n\nThis said, a silver-studded sword he gave,\nWith scabbard and with well-cut belt complete;\nAjax a girdle, rich with crimson dye.\nThey parted; Ajax to the Grecian camp,\nAnd Hector to the ranks of Troy return\u2019d:\nGreat was the joy when him they saw approach,\nAlive and safe; escap\u2019d from Ajax\u2019 might\nAnd arm invincible; and tow\u2019rd the town\nThey led him back, beyond their hope preserv\u2019d;\nWhile to Atrides\u2019 tent the well-greav\u2019d Greeks\nLed Ajax, glorying in his triumph gain\u2019d.\n\nBut when to Agamemnon\u2019s tents they came,\nThe King of men to Saturn\u2019s royal son\nA bullock slew, a male of five years old;\nThe carcase then they flay\u2019d; and cutting up,\nSever\u2019d the joints; then fixing on the spits,\nRoasted with care, and from the fire withdrew.\nTheir labours ended, and the feast prepar\u2019d,\nThey shar\u2019d the social meal, nor lack\u2019d there aught.\nTo Ajax then the chine\u2019s continuous length,\nAs honour\u2019s meed, the mighty monarch gave.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nThe aged Nestor first his mind disclos\u2019d;\nHe who, before, the sagest counsel gave,\nNow thus with prudent speech began, and said:\n\u201cAtrides, and ye other chiefs of Greece,\nSince many a long-hair\u2019d Greek hath fall\u2019n in fight,\nWhose blood, beside Scamander\u2019s flowing stream,\nFierce Mars has shed, while to the viewless shades\nTheir spirits are gone, behoves thee with the morn\nThe warfare of the Greeks to intermit:\nThen we, with oxen and with mules, the dead\nFrom all the plain will draw; and, from the ships\nA little space remov\u2019d, will burn with fire:\nThat we, returning to our native land,\nMay to their children bear our comrades\u2019 bones.\nThen will we go, and on the plain erect\nAround the pyre one common mound for all;\nThen quickly build before it lofty tow\u2019rs\nTo screen both ships and men; and in the tow\u2019rs\nMake ample portals, with well-fitting gates,\nThat through the midst a carriage-way may pass:\nAnd a deep trench around it dig, to guard\nBoth men and chariots, lest on our defence\nThe haughty Trojans should too hardly press.\u201d\n\nHe said; and all the Kings his words approv\u2019d.\nMeanwhile, on Ilium\u2019s height, at Priam\u2019s gate\nThe Trojan chiefs a troubled council held;\nWhich op\u2019ning, thus the sage Antenor spoke:\n\u201cHear now, ye Trojans, Dardans, and Allies,\nThe words I speak, the promptings of my soul.\nBack to the sons of Atreus let us give\nThe Argive Helen, and the goods she brought;\nFor now in breach of plighted faith we fight:\nNor can I hope, unless to my advice\nYe listen, that success will crown our arms.\u201d\nThus having said, he sat; and next arose\nThe godlike Paris, fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord;\nWho thus with winged words the chiefs address\u2019d:\n\u201cHostile to me, Antenor, is thy speech;\nThy better judgment better counsel knows;\nBut if in earnest such is thine advice,\nThee of thy senses have the Gods bereft.\nNow, Trojans, hear my answer; I reject\nThe counsel, nor the woman will restore;\nBut for the goods, whate\u2019er I hither brought\nTo Troy from Argos, I am well content\nTo give them all, and others add beside.\u201d\n\nThis said, he sat; and aged Priam next,\nA God in council, Dardan\u2019s son, arose,\nWho thus with prudent speech began, and said:\n\n\u201cHear now, ye Trojans, Dardans, and Allies,\nThe words I speak, the promptings of my soul:\nNow through the city take your wonted meal;\nLook to your watch, let each man keep his guard:\nTo-morrow shall Idaeus to the ships\nOf Greece, to both the sons of Atreus, bear\nThe words of Paris, cause of all this war;\nAnd ask besides, if from the deadly strife\nSuch truce they will accord us as may serve\nTo burn the dead; hereafter we may fight\nTill Heav\u2019n decide, and one with vict\u2019ry crown.\u201d\n\nHe said; and they, obedient to his word,\nThroughout the ranks prepar\u2019d the wonted meal:\nBut with the morning to the ships of Greece\nIdaeus took his way: in council there\nBy Agamemnon\u2019s leading ship he found\nThe Grecian chiefs, the ministers of Mars:\nAnd \u2019mid them all the clear-voic\u2019d herald spoke:\n\n\u201cYe sons of Atreus, and ye chiefs of Greece,\nFrom Priam, and the gallant sons of Troy,\nI come, to bear, if ye be pleas\u2019d to hear,\nThe words of Paris, cause of all this war:\nThe goods which hither in his hollow ships\n(Would he had perish\u2019d rather!) Paris brought,\nHe will restore, and others add beside;\nBut further says, the virgin-wedded wife\nOf Menelaus, though the gen\u2019ral voice\nOf Troy should bid him. he will not restore:\nThen bids me ask, if from the deadly strife\nSuch truce ye will accord us as may serve\nTo burn the dead: hereafter we may fight\nTill Heav\u2019n decide, and one with vict\u2019ry crown.\u201d\n\nThus he: they all in silence heard; at length\nUprose the valiant Diomed, and said;\n\u201cLet none from Paris now propose to accept\nOr goods, or Helen\u2019s self; a child may see\nThat now the doom of Troy is close at hand.\u201d\nHe said; the sons of Greece, with loud applause,\nThe speech of valiant Diomed confirm\u2019d.\n\nThen to Idaeus Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cIdaeus, thou hast heard what answer give\nThe chiefs of Greece\u2014their answer I approve.\nBut for the truce, for burial of the dead,\nI nought demur; no shame it is to grace\nWith fun\u2019ral rites the corpse of slaughter\u2019d foes.\nBe witness, Jove! and guard the plighted truce.\u201d\n\nHe said: and heav\u2019nward rais\u2019d his staff; and back\nTo Ilium\u2019s walls Idaeus took his way.\nTrojans and Dardans there in council met\nExpecting sat, till from the Grecian camp\nIdaeus should return; he came, and stood\nIn mid assembly, and his message gave:\nThen all in haste their sev\u2019ral ways dispers\u2019d,\nFor fuel some, and some to bring the dead.\nThe Greeks too from their well-mann\u2019d ships went forth,\nFor fuel some, and some to bring the dead.\nThe sun was newly glancing on the earth.\nFrom out the ocean\u2019s smoothly-flowing depths\nClimbing the Heav\u2019ns, when on the plain they met.\nHard was it then to recognize the dead;\nBut when the gory dust was wash\u2019d away,\nShedding hot tears, they plac\u2019d them on the wains.\nNor loud lament, by Priam\u2019s high command,\nWas heard; in silence they, with grief suppress\u2019d,\nHeap\u2019d up their dead upon the fun\u2019ral pyre;\nThen burnt with fire, and back return\u2019d to Troy.\nThe well-greav\u2019d Greeks, they too, with grief suppress\u2019d,\nHeap\u2019d up their dead upon the fun\u2019ral pyre;\nThen burnt with fire, and to the ships return\u2019d.\n\nBut ere \u2019twas morn, while daylight strove with night,\nAbout the pyre a chosen band of Greeks\nHad kept their vigil, and around it rais\u2019d\nUpon the plain one common mound for all;\nAnd built in front a wall, with lofty tow\u2019rs\nTo screen both ships and men; and in the tow\u2019rs\nMade ample portals with well-fitting gates,\nThat through the midst a carriage-way might pass:\nThen dug a trench around it, deep and wide,\nAnd in the trench a palisade they fix\u2019d.\n\nThus labour\u2019d thro\u2019 the night the long-hair\u2019d Greeks:\nThe Gods, assembled in the courts of Jove,\nWith wonder view\u2019d the mighty work; and thus\nNeptune, Earth-shaking King, his speech began:\n\u201cO Father Jove, in all the wide-spread earth\nShall men be found, in counsel and design\nTo rival us Immortals? see\u2019st thou not\nHow round their ships the long-hair\u2019d Greeks have built\nA lofty wall, and dug a trench around,\nNor to the Gods have paid their off\u2019rings due!\nWide as the light extends shall be the fame\nOf this great work, and men shall lightly deem\nOf that which I and Phoebus jointly rais\u2019d,\nWith toil and pain, for great Laomedon.\u201d\n\nTo whom in wrath the Cloud-compeller thus:\n\u201cNeptune, Earth-shaking King, what words are these?\nThis bold design to others of the Gods,\nOf feebler hands, and pow\u2019r less great than thine,\nMight cause alarm; but, far as light extends,\nOf this great work to thee shall be the fame:\nWhen with their ships the long-hair\u2019d Greeks shall take\nTheir homeward voyage to their native land,\nThis wall shall by the waves be broken through,\nAnd sink, a shapeless ruin, in the sea:\nO\u2019er the wide shore again thy sands shall spread,\nAnd all the boasted work of Greece o\u2019erwhelm.\u201d\n\nAmid themselves such converse held the Gods.\nThe sun was set; the Grecian work was done;\nThey slew, and shar\u2019d, by tents, the ev\u2019ning meal.\nFrom Lemnos\u2019 isle a num\u2019rous fleet had come\nFreighted with wine; and by Euneus sent,\nWhom fair Hypsipyle to Jason bore.\nFor Atreus\u2019 sons, apart from all the rest,\nOf wine, the son of Jason had despatch\u2019d\nA thousand measures; all the other Greeks\nHasten\u2019d to purchase, some with brass, and some\nWith gleaming iron; other some with hides,\nCattle, or slaves; and joyous wax\u2019d the feast.\nAll night the long-hair\u2019d Greeks their revels held,\nAnd so in Troy, the Trojans and Allies:\nBut through the night his anger Jove express\u2019d\nWith awful thunderings; pale they turn\u2019d with fear:\nTo earth the wine was from the goblets shed,\nNor dar\u2019d they drink, until libations due\nHad first been pour\u2019d to Saturn\u2019s mighty son.\n\nThen lay they down, and sought the boon of sleep.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE SECOND BATTLE, AND THE DISTRESS OF THE GREEKS.\n\n\nJupiter assembles a council of the deities, and threatens them with the\npains of Tartarus, if they assist either side: Minerva only obtains of\nhim that she may direct the Greeks by her counsels. The armies join\nbattle; Jupiter on Mount Ida weighs in his balances the fates of both,\nand affrights the Greeks with his thunders and lightnings. Nestor alone\ncontinues in the field in great danger; Diomed relieves him; whose\nexploits, and those of Hector, are excellently described. Juno\nendeavours to animate Neptune to the assistance of the Greeks, but in\nvain. The acts of Teucer, who is at length wounded by Hector, and\ncarried off. Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians, but are\nrestrained by Iris, sent from Jupiter. The night puts an end to the\nbattle. Hector continues in the field, (the Greeks being driven to\ntheir fortifications before the ships,) and gives orders to keep the\nwatch all night in the camp, to prevent the enemy from re-embarking and\nescaping by flight. They kindle fires through all the field, and pass\nthe night under arms.\n\nThe time of seven-and-twenty days is employed from the opening of the\npoem to the end of this book. The scene here (except of the celestial\nmachines) lies in the field toward the sea-shore.\n\nBOOK VIII.\n\nNow morn, in saffron robe, the earth o\u2019erspread;\nAnd Jove, the lightning\u2019s Lord, of all the Gods\nA council held upon the highest peak\nOf many-ridg\u2019d Olympus; he himself\nAddress\u2019d them; they his speech attentive heard.\n\n\u201cHear, all ye Gods, and all ye Goddesses,\nThe words I speak, the promptings of my soul.\nLet none among you, male or female, dare\nTo thwart my counsels: rather all concur,\nThat so these matters I may soon conclude.\nIf, from the rest apart, one God I find\nPresuming or to Trojans or to Greeks\nTo give his aid, with ignominious stripes\nBack to Olympus shall that God be driv\u2019n;\nOr to the gloom of Tartarus profound,\nFar off, the lowest abyss beneath the earth,\nWith, gates of iron, and with floor of brass,\nBeneath the shades as far as earth from Heav\u2019n,\nThere will I hurl him, and ye all shall know\nIn strength how greatly I surpass you all.\nMake trial if ye will, that all may know.\nA golden cord let down from Heav\u2019n, and all,\nBoth Gods and Goddesses, your strength, apply:\nYet would ye fail to drag from Heav\u2019n to earth,\nStrive as ye may, your mighty master, Jove;\nBut if I choose to make my pow\u2019r be known,\nThe earth itself, and ocean, I could raise,\nAnd binding round Olympus\u2019 ridge the cord,\nLeave them suspended so in middle air:\nSo far supreme my pow\u2019r o\u2019er Gods and men.\u201d\n\nHe said, and they, confounded by his words,\nIn silence sat; so sternly did he speak.\nAt length the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess, Pallas, said:\n\u201cO Father, Son of Saturn, King of Kings,\nWell do we know thy pow\u2019r invincible;\nYet deeply grieve we for the warlike Greeks,\nCondemn\u2019d to hopeless ruin; from the fight,\nSince such is thy command, we stand aloof;\nBut yet some saving counsel may we give,\nLest in thine anger thou destroy them quite.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller, smiling, thus:\n\u201cBe of good cheer, my child; unwillingly\nI speak, yet will not thwart thee of thy wish.\u201d\n\nHe said, and straight the brazen-footed steeds,\nOf swiftest flight, with manes of flowing gold,\nHe harness\u2019d to his chariot; all in gold\nHimself array\u2019d, the golden lash he grasp\u2019d,\nOf curious work; and mounting on his car,\nUrg\u2019d the fleet coursers; nothing loth, they flew\nMidway betwixt the earth and starry heav\u2019n.\nTo Ida\u2019s spring-abounding hill he came,\nAnd to the crest of Gargarus, wild nurse\nOf mountain beasts; a sacred plot was there,\nWhereon his incense-honour\u2019d altar stood:\nThere stay\u2019d his steeds the Sire of Gods and men\nLoos\u2019d from the car, and veil\u2019d with clouds around.\nThen on the topmost ridge he sat, in pride\nOf conscious strength; and looking down, survey\u2019d\nThe Trojan city, and the ships of Greece.\n\nMeantime, the Greeks throughout their tents in haste\nDespatch\u2019d their meal, and arm\u2019d them for the fight;\nOn th\u2019 other side the Trojans donn\u2019d their arms,\nIn numbers fewer, but with stern resolve,\nBy hard necessity constrain\u2019d, to strive,\nFor wives and children, in the stubborn fight.\nThe gates all open\u2019d wide, forth pour\u2019d the crowd\nOf horse and foot; and loud the clamour rose.\nWhen in the midst they met, together rush\u2019d\nBucklers and lances, and the furious might\nOf mail-clad warriors; bossy shield on shield\nClatter\u2019d in conflict; loud the clamour rose:\nThen rose too mingled shouts and groans of men\nSlaying and slain; the earth ran red with blood.\nWhile yet \u2019twas morn, and wax\u2019d the youthful day,\nThick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell\nOn either side; but when the sun had reach\u2019d\nThe middle Heav\u2019n, th\u2019 Eternal Father hung\nHis golden scales aloft, and plac\u2019d in each\nThe fatal death-lot: for the sons of Troy\nThe one, the other for the brass-clad Greeks;\nThen held them by the midst; down sank the lot\nOf Greece, down to the ground, while high aloft\nMounted the Trojan scale, and rose to Heav\u2019n.[2]\nThen loud he bade the volleying thunder peal\nFrom Ida\u2019s heights; and \u2019mid the Grecian ranks\nHe hurl\u2019d his flashing lightning; at the sight\nAmaz\u2019d they stood, and pale with terror shook.\n\nThen not Idomeneus, nor Atreus\u2019 son,\nThe mighty Agamemnon, kept their ground,\nNor either Ajax, ministers of Mars;\nGerenian Nestor, aged prop of Greece,\nAlone remain\u2019d, and he against his will,\nHis horse sore wounded by an arrow shot\nBy godlike Paris, fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord:\nJust on the crown, where close behind the head\nFirst springs the mane, the deadliest spot of all,\nThe arrow struck him; madden\u2019d with the pain\nHe rear\u2019d, then plunging forward, with the shaft\nFix\u2019d in his brain, and rolling in the dust,\nThe other steeds in dire confusion threw;\nAnd while old Nestor with his sword essay\u2019d\nTo cut the reins, and free the struggling horse,\nAmid the rout down came the flying steeds\nOf Hector, guided by no timid hand,\nBy Hector\u2019s self; then had the old man paid\nThe forfeit of his life, but, good at need,\nThe valiant Diomed his peril saw,\nAnd loudly shouting, on Ulysses call\u2019d:\n\u201cUlysses sage, Laertes\u2019 godlike son,\nWhy fliest thou, coward-like, amid the throng,\nAnd in thy flight to the aim of hostile spears\nThy back presenting? stay, and here with me\nFrom this fierce warrior guard the good old man.\u201d\n\nHe said; but stout Ulysses heard him not,\nAnd to the ships pursued his hurried way.\nBut in the front, Tydides, though alone,\nRemain\u2019d undaunted; by old Nestor\u2019s car\nHe stood, and thus the aged chief address\u2019d:\n\u201cOld man, these youthful warriors press thee sore,\nThy vigour spent, and with the weight of years\nOppress\u2019d; and helpless too thy charioteer,\nAnd slow thy horses; mount my car, and prove\nHow swift my steeds, or in pursuit or flight,\nFrom those of Tros descended, scour the plain;\nMy noble prize from great \u00c6neas won.\nLeave to th\u2019 attendants these; while mine we launch\nAgainst the Trojan host, that Hector\u2019s self\nMay know how strong my hand can hurl the spear.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Nestor his advice obey\u2019d:\nThe two attendants, valiant Sthenelus,\nAnd good Eurymedon, his horses took,\nWhile on Tydides\u2019 car they mounted both.\nThe aged Nestor took the glitt\u2019ring reins,\nAnd urg\u2019d the horses; Hector soon they met:\nAs on he came, his spear Tydides threw,\nYet struck not Hector; but his charioteer,\nWho held the reins, the brave Thebaeus\u2019 son,\nEniopeus, through the breast transfix\u2019d,\nBeside the nipple; from the car he fell,\nThe startled horses swerving at the sound;\nAnd from his limbs the vital spirit fled.\nDeep, for his comrade slain, was Hector\u2019s grief;\nYet him, though griev\u2019d, perforce he left to seek\nA charioteer; nor wanted long his steeds\nA guiding hand; for Archeptolemus,\nBrave son of Iphitus, he quickly found,\nAnd bade him mount his swiftly-flying car,\nAnd to his hands the glitt\u2019ring reins transferr\u2019d.\n\nThen fearful ruin had been wrought, and deeds\nUntold achiev\u2019d, and like a flock of lambs,\nThe adverse hosts been coop\u2019d beneath the walls,\nHad not the Sire of Gods and men beheld,\nAnd with an awful peal of thunder hurl\u2019d\nHis vivid lightning down; the fiery bolt\nBefore Tydides\u2019 chariot plough\u2019d the ground.\nFierce flash\u2019d the sulph\u2019rous flame, and whirling round\nBeneath the yoke th\u2019 affrighted horses quailed.\n\nFrom Nestor\u2019s hand escap\u2019d the glitt\u2019ring reins,\nAnd, trembling, thus to Diomed he spoke:\n\n\u201cTurn we to flight, Tydides; see\u2019st thou not,\nThat Jove from us his aiding hand withholds?\nThis day to Hector Saturn\u2019s son decrees\nThe meed of vict\u2019ry; on some future day,\nIf so he will, the triumph may be ours;\nFor man, how brave soe\u2019er, cannot o\u2019errule\nThe will of Jove, so much the mightier he.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cTruly, old man, and wisely dost thou speak;\nBut this the bitter grief that wrings my soul:\nSome day, amid the councillors of Troy\nHector may say, \u2018Before my presence scar\u2019d\nTydides sought the shelter of the ships.\u2019\nThus when he boasts, gape earth, and hide my shame!\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cGreat son of Tydeus, oh what words are these!\nShould Hector brand thee with a coward\u2019s name,\nNo credence would he gain from Trojan men,\nOr Dardan, or from Trojan warriors\u2019 wives,\nWhose husbands in the dust thy hand hath laid.\u201d\n\nHe said, and \u2019mid the general rout, to flight\nHe turn\u2019d his horses; on the flying crowd,\nWith shouts of triumph, Hector at their head,\nThe men of Troy their murd\u2019rous weapons show\u2019r\u2019d.\nLoud shouted Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cTydides, heretofore the warrior Greeks\nHave held thee in much honour; plac\u2019d on high\nAt banquets, and with lib\u2019ral portions grac\u2019d,\nAnd flowing cups: but thou, from this day forth,\nShalt be their scorn! a woman\u2019s soul is thine!\nOut on thee, frighten\u2019d girl! thou ne\u2019er shalt scale\nOur Trojan tow\u2019rs, and see me basely fly;\nNor in thy ships our women bear away:\nEre such thy boast, my hand shall work thy doom.\u201d\n\nThus he; and greatly was Tydides mov\u2019d\nTo turn his horses, and confront his foe:\nThrice thus he doubted; thrice, at Jove\u2019s command,\nFrom Ida\u2019s height the thunder peal\u2019d, in sign\nOf vict\u2019ry swaying to the Trojan side.\nThen to the Trojans Hector call\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cTrojans, and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, quit ye now like men;\nPut forth your wonted valour; for I know\nThat in his secret counsels Jove designs\nGlory to me, disaster to the Greeks.\nFools, in those wretched walls that put their trust,\nScarce worthy notice, hopeless to withstand\nMy onset; and the trench that they have dug,\nOur horses easily can overleap;\nAnd when I reach the ships, be mindful ye,\nTo have at hand the fire, wherewith the ships\nWe may destroy, while they themselves shall fall\nAn easy prey, bewilder\u2019d by the smoke.\u201d\n\nHe said, and thus with cheering words address\u2019d\nHis horses: \u201cXanthus, and, Podargus, thou,\n\u00c6thon and Lampus, now repay the care\nOn you bestow\u2019d by fair Andromache,\nEetion\u2019s royal daughter; bear in mind\nHow she with ample store of provender\nYour mangers still supplied, before e\u2019en I,\nHer husband, from her hands the wine-cup took.\nPut forth your speed, that we may make our prize\nOf Nestor\u2019s shield, whose praise extends to Heav\u2019n,\nIts handles, and itself, of solid gold;\nAnd from the shoulders of Tydides strip\nHis gorgeous breastplate, work of Vulcan\u2019s hand:\nThese could we take, methinks this very night\nWould see the Greeks embarking on their ships.\u201d\n\nSuch was his pray\u2019r; but Juno on her throne\nTrembled with rage, till great Olympus quak\u2019d,\nAnd thus to Neptune, mighty God, she spoke:\n\u201cO thou of boundless might, Earth-shaking God,\nSee\u2019st thou unmov\u2019d the ruin of the Greeks?\nYet they in \u00c6gae and in Helice,\nWith grateful off\u2019rings rich thine altars crown;\nThen give we them the vict\u2019ry; if we all\nWho favour Greece, together should combine\nTo put to flight the Trojans, and restrain\nAll-seeing Jove, he might be left alone,\nOn Ida\u2019s summit to digest his wrath.\u201d\n\nTo whom, in anger, Neptune thus replied:\n\u201cO Juno, rash of speech, what words are these!\nI dare not counsel that we all should join\n\u2019Gainst Saturn\u2019s son; so much the stronger he.\u201d\n\nSuch converse held they; all the space meanwhile\nWithin the trench, between the tow\u2019r and ships,\nWas closely throng\u2019d with steeds and buckler\u2019d men;\nBy noble Hector, brave as Mars, and led\nBy Jove to vict\u2019ry, coop\u2019d in narrow space;\nWho now had burnt with fire the Grecian ships,\nBut Juno bade Atrides haste to rouse\nTheir fainting courage; through the camp he pass\u2019d;\nOn his broad hand a purple robe he bore,\nAnd stood upon Ulysses\u2019 lofty ship,\nThe midmost, whence to shout to either side,\nOr to the tents of Ajax Telamon,\nOr of Achilles, who at each extreme,\nConfiding in their strength, had moor\u2019d their ships.\n\nThence to the Greeks he shouted, loud and clear:\n\u201cShame on ye, Greeks, base cowards, brave alone\nIn outward semblance! where are now the vaunts\nWhich once (so highly of ourselves we deem\u2019d)\nYe made, vain-glorious braggarts as ye were,\nIn Lemnos\u2019 isle, when, feasting on the flesh\nOf straight-horn\u2019d oxen, and your flowing cups\nCrowning with ruddy wine, not one of you,\nBut for a hundred Trojans in the field,\nOr for two hundred, deem\u2019d himself a match:\nNow quail ye all before a single man,\nHector, who soon will wrap our ships in fire.\nO Father Jove! what sov\u2019reign e\u2019er hast thou\nSo far deluded, of such glory robb\u2019d?\nYet ne\u2019er, on this disastrous voyage bent,\nHave I unheeded pass\u2019d thine altar by;\nThe choicest off\u2019rings burning still on each,\nIn hopes to raze the well-built walls of Troy.\nYet to this pray\u2019r at least thine ear incline;\nGrant that this coast in safety we may leave,\nNor be by Trojans utterly subdued.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Jove, with pity, saw his tears;\nAnd, with a sign, his people\u2019s safety vouch\u2019d.\nHe sent an eagle, noblest bird that flies,\nWho in his talons bore a wild deer\u2019s fawn:\nThe fawn he dropp\u2019d beside the holy shrine,\nWhere to the Lord of divination, Jove,\nThe Greeks were wont their solemn rites to pay.\nThe sign from Heav\u2019n they knew; with courage fresh\nAssail\u2019d the Trojans, and the fight renew\u2019d.\nThen none of all the many Greeks might boast\nThat he, before Tydides, drove his car\nAcross the ditch, and mingled in the fight.\nHis was the hand that first a crested chief,\nThe son of Phradmon, Agelaus, struck.\nHe turn\u2019d his car for flight; but as he turn\u2019d,\nThe lance of Diomed, behind his neck,\nBetween the shoulders, through his chest was driv\u2019n;\nHeadlong he fell, and loud his armour rang.\n\nNext to Tydides, Agamemnon came,\nAnd Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 godlike sons;\nTh\u2019 Ajaces both, in dauntless courage cloth\u2019d;\nIdomeneus, with whom Meriones,\nHis faithful comrade, terrible as Mars;\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s noble son;\nThe ninth was Teucer, who, with bended bow,\nBehind the shield of Ajax Telamon\nTook shelter; Ajax o\u2019er him held his shield;\nThence look\u2019d he round, and aim\u2019d amid the crowd;\nAnd as he saw each Trojan, wounded, fall,\nStruck by his shafts, to Ajax close he press\u2019d,\nAs to its mother\u2019s shelt\u2019ring arms a child,\nConceal\u2019d and safe beneath the ample targe.\n\nSay then, who first of all the Trojans fell\nBy Teucer\u2019s arrows slain? Orsilochus,\nAnd Ophelestes, Daetor, Ormenus,\nAnd godlike Lycophontes, Chromius,\nAnd Amopaon, Polyaemon\u2019s son,\nAnd valiant Melanippus: all of these,\nEach after other, Teucer laid in dust.\nHim Agamemnon, with his well-strung bow\nThinning the Trojan ranks, with joy beheld,\nAnd, standing at his side, address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cTeucer, good comrade, son of Telamon,\nShoot ever thus, if thou wouldst be the light\nAnd glory of the Greeks, and of thy sire,\nWho nursed thine infancy, and in his house\nMaintain\u2019d, though bastard; him, though distant far,\nTo highest fame let thine achievements raise.\nThis too I say, and will make good my word:\nIf by the grace of aegis-bearing Jove,\nAnd Pallas, Ilium\u2019s well-built walls we raze,\nA gift of honour, second but to mine,\nI in thy hands will place; a tripod bright,\nOr, with their car and harness, two brave steeds,\nOr a fair woman who thy bed may share.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer valiant Teucer thus:\n\u201cMost mighty son of Atreus, why excite\nWho lacks not zeal? To th\u2019 utmost of my pow\u2019r\nSince first we drove the Trojans back, I watch,\nUnceasing, every chance to ply my shafts.\nEight barbed arrows have I shot e\u2019en now,\nAnd in a warrior each has found its mark;\nThat savage hound alone defeats my aim.\u201d\n\nAt Hector, as he spoke, another shaft\nHe shot, ambitious of so great a prize:\nHe miss\u2019d his aim; but Priam\u2019s noble son\nGorgythion, through the breast his arrow struck,\nWhom from \u00c6syme brought, a wedded bride\nOf heavenly beauty, Castianeira bore.\nDown sank his head, as in a garden sinks\nA ripen\u2019d poppy charg\u2019d with vernal rains;\nSo sank his head beneath his helmet\u2019s weight.\nAt Hector yet another arrow shot\nTeucer, ambitious of so great a prize;\nYet this too miss\u2019d, by Phoebus turn\u2019d aside;\nBut Archeptolemus, the charioteer\nOf Hector, onward hurrying, through the breast\nIt struck, beside the nipple; from the car\nHe fell; aside the startled horses swerv\u2019d;\nAnd as he fell the vital spirit fled.\nDeep, for his comrade slain, was Hector\u2019s grief;\nYet him, though griev\u2019d at heart, perforce he left,\nAnd to Cebriones, his brother, call\u2019d,\nThen near at hand, the horses\u2019 reins to take;\nHe heard, and straight obey\u2019d; then Hector leap\u2019d\nDown from his glitt\u2019ring chariot to the ground,\nHis fearful war-cry shouting; in his hand\nA pond\u2019rous stone he carried; and, intent\nTo strike him down, at Teucer straight he rush\u2019d.\nHe from his quiver chose a shaft in haste,\nAnd fitted to the cord; but as he drew\nThe sinew, Hector of the glancing helm\nHurl\u2019d the huge mass of rock, which Teucer struck\nNear to the shoulder, where the collar-bone\nJoins neck and breast, the spot most opportune,\nAnd broke the tendon; paralys\u2019d, his arm\nDropp\u2019d helpless by his side; upon his knees\nHe fell, and from his hands let fall the bow.\nNot careless Ajax saw his brother\u2019s fall,\nBut o\u2019er him spread in haste his cov\u2019ring shield.\nTwo faithful friends, Mecisteus, Echius\u2019 son,\nAnd brave Alastor, from the press withdrew,\nAnd bore him, deeply groaning, to the ships.\n\nThen Jove again the Trojan courage fir\u2019d,\nAnd backward to the ditch they forc\u2019d the Greeks.\nProud of his prowess, Hector led them on;\nAnd as a hound that, fleet of foot, o\u2019ertakes\nOr boar or lion, object of his chase,\nSprings from behind, and fastens on his flank,\nYet careful watches, lest he turn to bay:\nSo Hector press\u2019d upon the long-hair\u2019d Greeks,\nSlaying the hindmost; they in terror fled.\nBut, pass\u2019d at length the ditch and palisade,\nWith loss of many by the Trojans slain,\nBefore the ships they rallied from their flight,\nAnd one to other call\u2019d: and one and all\nWith hands uplifted, pray\u2019d to all the Gods;\nWhile Hector, here and there, on ev\u2019ry side\nHis flying coursers wheel\u2019d, with eyes that flash\u2019d\nAwful as Gorgon\u2019s, or as blood-stain\u2019d Mars.\n\nJuno, the white-arm\u2019d Queen, with pity mov\u2019d,\nTo Pallas thus her winged words address\u2019d:\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n, brave child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nCan we, ev\u2019n now, in this their sorest need,\nRefuse the Greeks our aid, by one subdued,\nOne single man, of pride unbearable,\nHector, the son of Priam, who e\u2019en now,\nHath caus\u2019d them endless grief?\u201d To whom again\nThe blue-ey\u2019d Goddess, Pallas, thus replied:\n\u201cI too would fain behold him robb\u2019d of life,\nIn his own country slain by Grecian hands;\nBut that my sire, by ill advice misled,\nRages in wrath, still thwarting all my plans;\nForgetting now how oft his son I sav\u2019d,\nSore wearied with the toils Eurystheus gave.\nOft would his tears ascend to Heav\u2019n, and oft\nFrom Heav\u2019n would Jove despatch me to his aid;\nBut if I then had known what now I know,\nWhen to the narrow gates of Pluto\u2019s realm\nHe sent him forth to bring from Erebus\nIts guardian dog, he never had return\u2019d\nIn safety from the marge of Styx profound.\nHe holds me now in hatred, and his ear\nTo Thetis lends, who kiss\u2019d his knees, and touch\u2019d\nHis beard, and pray\u2019d him to avenge her son\nAchilles; yet the time shall come when I\nShall be once more his own dear blue-ey\u2019d Maid.\nBut haste thee now, prepare for us thy car,\nWhile to the house of aegis-bearing Jove\nI go, and don my armour for the fight,\nTo prove if Hector of the glancing helm,\nThe son of Priam, will unmov\u2019d behold\nUs two advancing o\u2019er the pass of war;\nOr if the flesh of Trojans, slain by Greeks,\nShall sate the maw of rav\u2019ning dogs and birds.\u201d\n\nShe said: the white-arm\u2019d Queen her word obey\u2019d.\nJuno, great Goddess, royal Saturn\u2019s child,\nThe horses brought, with golden frontlets crown\u2019d;\nWhile Pallas, child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nWithin her father\u2019s threshold dropp\u2019d her veil\nOf airy texture, work of her own hands;\nThe cuirass donn\u2019d of cloud-compelling Jove,\nAnd stood accoutred for the bloody fray.\nThe fiery car she mounted; in her hand\nA spear she bore, long, weighty, tough; wherewith\nThe mighty daughter of a mighty sire\nSweeps down the ranks of those her wrath pursues.\nThen Juno sharply touch\u2019d the flying steeds;\nForthwith spontaneous opening, grated harsh\nThe heavenly portals, guarded by the Hours,\nWho Heav\u2019n and high Olympus have in charge,\nTo roll aside or close the veil of cloud;\nThrough these th\u2019 excited horses held their way.\n\nFrom Ida\u2019s heights the son of Saturn saw,\nAnd, fill\u2019d with wrath, the heav\u2019nly messenger,\nThe golden-winged Iris, thus bespoke:\n\u201cHaste thee, swift Iris; turn them back, and warn\nThat farther they advance not: \u2019tis not meet\nThat they and I in war should be oppos\u2019d.\nThis too I say, and will make good my words:\nTheir flying horses I will lame; themselves\nDash from their car, and break their chariot-wheels;\nAnd ten revolving years heal not the wound\nWhere strikes my lightning; so shall Pallas learn\nWhat \u2019tis against her father to contend.\nJuno less moves my wonder and my wrath;\nWhate\u2019er I plan, \u2019tis still her wont to thwart.\u201d\nThus he: from Ida to Olympus\u2019 height\nThe storm-swift Iris on her errand sped.\nAt many-ridg\u2019d Olympus\u2019 outer gate\nShe met the Goddesses, and stay\u2019d their course,\nAnd thus convey\u2019d the sov\u2019reign will of Jove:\n\n\u201cWhither away? what madness fills your breasts?\nTo give the Greeks your succour, Jove forbids;\nAnd thus he threatens, and will make it good:\nYour flying horses he will lame; yourselves\nDash from the car, and break your chariot-wheels;\nAnd ten revolving years heal not the wounds\nHis lightning makes: so, Pallas, shalt thou learn\nWhat \u2019tis against thy father to contend.\nJuno less moves his wonder and his wrath;\nWhate\u2019er he plans, \u2019tis still her wont to thwart;\nBut over-bold and void of shame art thou,\nIf against Jove thou dare to lift thy spear.\u201d\n\nThus as she spoke, swift Iris disappear\u2019d.\nThen Juno thus to Pallas spoke: \u201cNo more,\nDaughter of aegis-bearing Jove, can we\nFor mortal men his sov\u2019reign will resist;\nLive they or die, as each man\u2019s fate may be;\nWhile he, \u2019twixt Greeks and Trojans, as \u2019tis meet,\nHis own designs accomplishing, decides.\u201d\nShe said, and backward turn\u2019d her horses\u2019 heads.\nThe horses from the car the Hours unyok\u2019d,\nAnd safely tether\u2019d in the heav\u2019nly stalls;\nThe car they rear\u2019d against the inner wall,\nThat brightly polish\u2019d shone; the Goddesses\nThemselves meanwhile, amid th\u2019 Immortals all,\nWith, sorrowing hearts on golden seats reclin\u2019d.\n\nEre long, on swiftly-rolling chariot borne,\nJove to Olympus, to th\u2019 abode of Gods,\nFrom Ida\u2019s height return\u2019d: th\u2019 earth-shaking God,\nNeptune, unyok\u2019d his steeds; and on the stand\nSecur\u2019d the car, and spread the cov\u2019ring o\u2019er.\nThen on his golden throne all-seeing Jove\nSat down; beneath his feet Olympus shook.\nJuno and Pallas only sat aloof;\nNo word they utter\u2019d, no enquiry made.\nJove knew their thoughts, and thus address\u2019d them both:\n\u201cPallas and Juno, wherefore sit ye thus\nIn angry silence? In the glorious fight\nNo lengthen\u2019d toil have ye sustain\u2019d, to slay\nThe Trojans, whom your deadly hate pursues.\nNot all the Gods that on Olympus dwell\nCould turn me from my purpose, such my might,\nAnd such the pow\u2019r of my resistless hand;\nBut ye were struck with terror ere ye saw\nThe battle-field, and fearful deeds of war.\nBut this I say, and bear it in your minds,\nHad I my lightning launch\u2019d, and from your car\nHad hurl\u2019d ye down, ye ne\u2019er had reach\u2019d again\nOlympus\u2019 height, th\u2019 immortal Gods\u2019 abode.\u201d\n\nSo spoke the God; but, seated side by side,\nJuno and Pallas glances interchang\u2019d\nOf ill portent for Troy; Pallas indeed\nSat silent, and, though inly wroth with Jove,\nYet answer\u2019d not a word; but Juno\u2019s breast\nCould not contain her rage, and thus she spoke:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nWell do we know thy pow\u2019r invincible,\nYet deeply grieve we for the warlike Greeks,\nCondemn\u2019d to hopeless ruin: from the fight,\nSince such is thy command, we stand aloof;\nBut yet some saving counsel may we give,\nLest in thine anger thou destroy them quite.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cYet greater slaughter, stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n,\nTo-morrow shalt thou see, if so thou list,\nWrought on the warrior Greeks by Saturn\u2019s son;\nFor Hector\u2019s proud career shall not be check\u2019d\nUntil the wrath of Peleus\u2019 godlike son\nBeside the ships be kindled, in the day\nWhen round Patroclus\u2019 corpse, in narrow space,\nE\u2019en by the vessels\u2019 sterns, the war shall rage.\nSuch is the voice of destiny: for thee,\nI reck not of thy wrath; nor should I care\nThough thou wert thrust beneath the lowest deep\nOf earth and ocean, where Iapetus\nAnd Saturn lie, uncheer\u2019d by ray of sun\nOr breath of air, in Tartarus profound.\nThough there thou wert to banishment consign\u2019d,\nI should not heed, but thy reproaches hear\nUnmov\u2019d; for viler thing is none than thou.\u201d\nHe said, but white-arm\u2019d Juno answer\u2019d not.\n\nThe sun, now sunk beneath the ocean wave,\nDrew o\u2019er the teeming earth the veil of night.\nThe Trojans saw, reluctant, day\u2019s decline;\nBut on the Greeks thrice welcome, thrice invoked\nWith earnest prayers, the shades of darkness fell.\n\nThe noble Hector then to council call\u2019d\nThe Trojan leaders; from the ships apart\nHe led them, by the eddying river\u2019s side,\nTo a clear space of ground, from corpses free.\nThey from their cars dismounting, to the words\nOf godlike Hector listen\u2019d: in his hand\nHis massive spear he held, twelve cubits long,\nWhose glitt\u2019ring point flash\u2019d bright, with hoop of gold\nEncircled round; on this he leant, and said,\n\u201cHear me, ye Trojans, Dardans, and Allies;\nI hop\u2019d that to the breezy heights of Troy\nWe might ere now in triumph have return\u2019d,\nThe Grecian ships and all the Greeks destroy\u2019d:\nBut night hath come too soon, and sav\u2019d awhile\nThe Grecian army and their stranded ships.\nThen yield we to the night; prepare the meal;\nUnyoke your horses, and before them place\nTheir needful forage; from the city bring\nOxen and sheep; the luscious wine provide;\nBring bread from out our houses; and collect\nGood store of fuel, that the livelong night,\nE\u2019en till the dawn of day, may broadly blaze\nOur num\u2019rous watchfires, and illume the Heav\u2019ns;\nLest, e\u2019en by night, the long-hair\u2019d Greeks should seek\nO\u2019er the broad bosom of the sea to fly,\nThat so not unassail\u2019d they may embark,\nNor undisturb\u2019d; but haply some may bear,\nE\u2019en to their homes, the mem\u2019ry of a wound\nReceiv\u2019d from spear or arrow, as on board\nThey leap\u2019d in haste; and others too may fear\nTo tempt with hostile arms the pow\u2019r of Troy.\nThen let the sacred heralds\u2019 voice proclaim\nThroughout the city, that the stripling youths\nAnd hoary-headed sires allot themselves\nIn sev\u2019ral watches to the Heav\u2019n-built tow\u2019rs.\nCharge too the women, in their houses each,\nTo kindle blazing fires; let careful watch\nBe set, lest, in the absence of the men,\nThe town by secret ambush be surpris\u2019d.\nSuch, valiant Trojans, is th\u2019 advice I give;\nAnd what to-night your wisdom shall approve\nWill I, at morn, before the Trojans speak.\nHopeful, to Jove I pray, and all the Gods,\nTo chase from hence these fate-inflicted hounds,\nBy fate sent hither on their dark-ribb\u2019d ships.\nNow keep we through the night our watchful guard;\nAnd with the early dawn, equipp\u2019d in arms,\nUpon their fleet our angry battle pour.\nThen shall I know if Tydeus\u2019 valiant son\nBack from the ships shall drive me to the walls,\nOr I, triumphant, bear his bloody spoils:\nTo-morrow morn his courage will decide,\nIf he indeed my onset will await.\nBut ere to-morrow\u2019s sun be high in Heav\u2019n,\nHe, \u2019mid the foremost, if I augur right,\nWounded and bleeding in the dust shall lie,\nAnd many a comrade round him. Would to Heav\u2019n\nI were as sure to be from age and death\nExempt, and held in honour as a God,\nPhoebus, or Pallas, as I am assur\u2019d\nThe coming day is fraught with ill to Greece.\u201d\n\nThus Hector spoke; the Trojans shouted loud:\nThen from the yoke the sweating steeds they loos\u2019d,\nAnd tether\u2019d each beside their sev\u2019ral cars:\nNext from the city speedily they brought\nOxen and sheep; the luscious wine procur\u2019d;\nBrought bread from out their houses, and good store\nOf fuel gather\u2019d; wafted from the plain,\nThe winds to Heav\u2019n the sav\u2019ry odours bore.\nFull of proud hopes, upon the pass of war,\nAll night they camp\u2019d; and frequent blaz\u2019d their fires.\n\nAs when in Heav\u2019n, around the glitt\u2019ring moon\nThe stars shine bright amid the breathless air;\nAnd ev\u2019ry crag, and ev\u2019ry jutting peak\nStands boldly forth, and ev\u2019ry forest glade;\nEv\u2019n to the gates of Heav\u2019n is open\u2019d wide\nThe boundless sky; shines each particular star\nDistinct; joy fills the gazing shepherd\u2019s heart.\nSo bright, so thickly scatter\u2019d o\u2019er the plain,\nBefore the walls of Troy, between the ships\nAnd Xanthus\u2019 stream, the Trojan watchfires blaz\u2019d.\n\nA thousand fires burnt brightly; and round each\nSat fifty warriors in the ruddy glare;\nChamping the provender before them laid,\nBarley and rye, the tether\u2019d horses stood\nBeside the cars, and waited for the morn.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES.\n\n\nAgamemnon, after the last day\u2019s defeat, proposes to the Greeks to quit\nthe siege, and return to their country. Diomed opposes this, and Nestor\nseconds him, praising his wisdom and resolution. He orders the guard to\nbe strengthened, and a council summoned to deliberate what measures\nwere to be followed in this emergency. Agamemnon pursues this advice,\nand Nestor farther prevails upon him to send ambassadors to Achilles in\norder to move him to a reconciliation. Ulysses and Ajax are made choice\nof, who are accompanied by old Phoenix. They make, each of them, very\nmoving and pressing speeches, but are rejected with roughness by\nAchilles, who notwithstanding retains Phoenix in his tent. The\nambassadors return unsuccessfully to the camp, and the troops betake\nthemselves to sleep.\n\nThis book, and the next following, take up the space of one night,\nwhich is the twenty-seventh from the beginning of the poem. The scene\nlies on the sea-shore, the station of the Grecian ships.\n\nBOOK IX.\n\nThus kept their watch, the Trojans; but the Greeks\nDire Panic held, companion of chill Fear,\nTheir bravest struck with grief unbearable.\nAs when two stormy winds ruffle the sea,\nBoreas and Zephyr, from the hills of Thrace\nWith sudden gust descending; the dark waves\nRear high their angry crests, and toss on shore\nMasses of tangled weed; such stormy grief\nThe breast of ev\u2019ry Grecian warrior rent.\n\nAtrides, heart-struck, wander\u2019d to and fro,\nAnd to the clear-voic\u2019d heralds gave command\nTo call, but not with proclamation loud,\nEach sev\u2019ral man to council; he himself\nSpar\u2019d not his labour, mixing with the chiefs.\nSadly they sat in council; Atreus\u2019 son,\nWeeping, arose; as some dark-water\u2019d fount\nPours o\u2019er a craggy steep its gloomy stream;\nThen with deep groans th\u2019 assembled Greeks address\u2019d:\n\u201cO friends! the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nGrievous, and all unlook\u2019d for, is the blow\nWhich Jove hath dealt me; by his promise led\nI hop\u2019d to raze the strong-built walls of Troy,\nAnd home return in safety; but it seems\nHe falsifies his word, and bids me now\nReturn to Argos, frustrate of my hope,\nDishonour\u2019d, and with grievous loss of men.\nSuch now appears th\u2019 o\u2019er-ruling sov\u2019reign will\nOf Saturn\u2019s son, who oft hath sunk the heads\nOf many a lofty city in the dust,\nAnd yet will sink; for mighty is his hand.\nHear then my counsel; let us all agree\nHome to direct our course: since here in vain\nWe strive to take the well-built walls of Troy.\u201d\n\nThe monarch spoke; they all in silence heard:\nIn speechless sorrow long they sat: at length\nRose valiant Diomed, and thus he spoke:\n\u201cAtrides, I thy folly must confront,\nAs is my right, in council: thou, O King!\nBe not offended: once, among the Greeks\nThou heldest light my prowess, with the name\nOf coward branding me; how justly so\nIs known to all the Greeks, both young and old.\nOn thee the deep-designing Saturn\u2019s son\nIn diff\u2019ring measure hath his gifts bestow\u2019d:\nA throne he gives thee, higher far than all;\nBut valour, noblest boon of Heav\u2019n, denies.\nHow canst thou hope the sons of Greece shall prove\nSuch heartless dastards as thy words suppose?\nIf homeward to return thy mind be fix\u2019d,\nDepart; the way is open, and the ships,\nWhich from Mycen\u00e6 follow\u2019d thee in crowds,\nAre close at hand, and ready to be launch\u2019d.\nYet will the other long-hair\u2019d Greeks remain\nTill Priam\u2019s city fall: nay, though the rest\nBetake them to their ships, and sail for home,\nYet I and Sthenelus, we two, will fight\nTill Troy be ours; for Heav\u2019n is on our side.\u201d\n\nThus he; the sons of Greece, with loud applause,\nThe speech of valiant Diomed confirm\u2019d.\n\nThen aged Nestor rose, and thus began:\n\u201cTydides, eminent thou art in war;\nAnd In the council thy compeers in age\nMust yield to thee; thy present words, no Greek\nCan censure, or gainsay; and yet the end\nThou hast not reach\u2019d, and object of debate.\nBut thou art young, and for thine age mightst be\nMy latest born; yet dost thou to the Kings\nSage counsel give, and well in season speak.\nBut now will I, that am thine elder far,\nGo fully through the whole; and none my words\nMay disregard, not ev\u2019n Atrides\u2019 self.\nOutcast from kindred, law, and hearth is he\nWhose soul delights in fierce internal strife.\nBut yield we now to th\u2019 influence of night:\nPrepare the meal; and let the sev\u2019ral guards\nBe posted by the ditch, without the wall.\nThis duty on the younger men I lay:\nThen, Agamemnon, thou thy part perform;\nFor thou art King supreme; the Elders all,\nAs meet and seemly, to the feast invite:\nThy tents are full of wine, which Grecian ships\nO\u2019er the wide sea bring day by day from Thrace;\nNor lack\u2019st thou aught thy guests to entertain,\nAnd many own thy sway; when all are met,\nHis counsel take, who gives the best advice;\nGreat need we have of counsel wise and good,\nWhen close beside our ships the hostile fires\nAre burning: who can this unmov\u2019d behold?\nThis night our ruin or our safety sees.\u201d\n\nHe said; and they, assenting, heard his speech.\nForth with their followers went th\u2019 appointed guards,\nThe princely Thrasymedes, Nestor\u2019s son,\nAscalaphus, and bold Ialmenus,\nTwo valiant sons of Mars; Meriones,\nAnd Aphareus, and brave Deipyrus,\nAnd godlike Lycomedes, Creon\u2019s son.\nSev\u2019n were the leaders; and with each went forth\nA hundred gallant youths, with lances arm\u2019d.\nBetween the ditch and wall they took their post;\nThere lit their fires, and there the meal prepar\u2019d.\n\nThen for th\u2019 assembled Elders in his tent\nAn ample banquet Agamemnon spread;\nThey on the viands, set before them, fell:\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nThe aged Nestor first his mind disclos\u2019d\nHe who, before, the sagest counsel gave,\nNow thus with prudent words began, and said:\n\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nWith thee, Atrides, my discourse shall end,\nWith thee begin: o\u2019er many nations thou\nHold\u2019st sov\u2019reign sway; since Jove to thee hath giv\u2019n\nThe sceptre, and the high prerogative,\nTo be thy people\u2019s judge and counsellor,\n\u2019Tis thine to speak the word, \u2019tis thine to hear\nAnd to determine, when some other chief\nSuggestions offers in the gen\u2019ral cause:\nWhat counsel shall prevail, depends on thee:\nYet will I say what seems to me the best.\nSounder opinion none can hold than this,\nWhich I maintain, and ever have maintain\u2019d,\nEv\u2019n from the day when thou, great King, didst bear\nThe fair Briseis from Achilles\u2019 tent\nDespite his anger\u2014not by my advice:\nI fain would have dissuaded thee, but thou,\nFollowing the dictates of thy wrathful pride,\nDidst to our bravest wrong, dishon\u2019ring him\nWhom ev\u2019n th\u2019 Immortals honour\u2019d; for his prize\nThou took\u2019st and still retain\u2019st; but let us now\nConsider, if ev\u2019n yet, with costly gifts\nAnd soothing words, we may his wrath appease.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cFather, too truly thou recall\u2019st my fault:\nI err\u2019d, nor will deny it; as a host\nIs he whom Jove in honour holds, as now\nAchilles hon\u2019ring, he confounds the Greeks,\nBut if I err\u2019d, by evil impulse led,\nFain would I now conciliate him, and pay\nAn ample penalty; before you all\nI pledge myself rich presents to bestow.\nSev\u2019n tripods will I give, untouch\u2019d by fire;\nOf gold, ten talents, twenty caldrons bright,\nTwelve pow\u2019rful horses, on the course renown\u2019d,\nWho by their speed have many prizes won.\nNot empty-handed could that man be deem\u2019d,\nNor poor in gold, who but so much possess\u2019d\nAs by those horses has for me been won.\nSev\u2019n women too, well skill\u2019d in household cares,\nLesbians, whom I selected for myself,\nThat day he captur\u2019d Lesbos\u2019 goodly isle,\nIn beauty far surpassing all their sex:\nThese will I give; and with them will I send\nThe fair Briseis, her whom from his tent\nI bore away; and add a solemn oath,\nI ne\u2019er approach\u2019d her bed, nor held with her\nSuch intercourse as man with woman holds.\nAll these shall now be his: but if the Gods\nShall grant us Priam\u2019s city to destroy,\nOf gold and brass, when we divide the spoil,\nWith countless heaps he shall a vessel freight,\nAnd twenty captives he himself shall choose,\nAll only less than Argive Helen fair.\nAnd if it be our fate to see again\nThe teeming soil of Argos, he shall be\nMy son by marriage; and in honour held\nAs is Orestes, who, my only son,\nIs rear\u2019d at home in luxury and ease.\nThree daughters fair I have, Chrysothemis,\nIphianassa, and Laodice;\nOf these, whiche\u2019er he will, to Peleus\u2019 house,\nNo portion ask\u2019d for, he shall take to wife;\nAnd with her will I add such wedding gifts,\nAs never man before to daughter gave.\nSev\u2019n prosp\u2019rous towns besides; Cardamyle,\nAnd Enope, and Ira\u2019s grassy plains;\nAnd Pherae, and Antheia\u2019s pastures deep,\n\u00c6peia fair, and vine-clad Pedasus;\nAll by the sea, by sandy Pylos\u2019 bounds.\nThe dwellers there in flocks and herds are rich,\nAnd, as a God, shall honour him with gifts,\nAnd to his sceptre ample tribute pay.\nThis will I do, so he his wrath remit:\nThen let him yield (Pluto alone remains\nUnbending and inexorable; and thence\nOf all the Gods is most abhorr\u2019d of men),\nTo me submitting, as in royal pow\u2019r\nSuperior far, and more advanc\u2019d in age.\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nAtrides, not unworthy are the gifts,\nWhich to Achilles thou design\u2019st to send:\nThen to the tent of Peleus\u2019 son in haste\nLet us our chosen messengers despatch:\nWhom I shall choose, let them consent to go.\nThen first of all let Phoenix lead the way,\nBeloved of Jove; the mighty Ajax next:\nWith them, Ulysses sage; and let them take,\nOf heralds, Hodius and Eurybates.\nBring now the hallowing water for our hands;\nAnd bid be silent, while to Saturn\u2019s son,\nThat he have mercy, we address our pray\u2019r.\u201d\n\nHe said, and well his counsel pleas\u2019d them all;\nThe heralds pour\u2019d the water on their hands;\nThe youths, attending, crown\u2019d the bowls with wine,\nAnd in due order serv\u2019d the cups to all.\nThen, their libations made, when each with wine\nHad satisfied his soul, from out the tent\nOf Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son, they pass\u2019d;\nAnd many a caution aged Nestor gave,\nWith rapid glance to each, Ulysses chief,\nHow best to soften Peleus\u2019 matchless son.\n\nBeside the many-dashing ocean\u2019s shore\nThey mov\u2019d along; and many a pray\u2019r address\u2019d\nTo Neptune, Ocean\u2019s Earth-surrounding God,\nThat he to gentle counsels would incline\nThe haughty soul of great \u00c6acides.\nWhen to the ships and tents they came, where lay\nThe warlike Myrmidons, their chief they found\nHis spirit soothing with a sweet-ton\u2019d lyre,\nOf curious work, with silver band adorn\u2019d;\nPart of the spoil he took, when he destroy\u2019d\nEetion\u2019s wealthy town; on this he play\u2019d,\nSoothing his soul, and sang of warriors\u2019 deeds.\nBefore the chief, in silence and alone\nPatroclus sat, upon Achilles fix\u2019d\nHis eyes, awaiting till the song should cease.\nThe envoys forward stepp\u2019d, Ulysses first,\nAnd stood before him; from his couch, amaz\u2019d,\nAnd holding still his lyre, Achilles sprang,\nLeaving the seat whereon they found him plac\u2019d;\nAnd at their entrance rose Patroclus too:\nWaving his hand, Achilles, swift of foot,\nAddressed them: \u201cWelcome, friends! as friends ye come:\nSome great occasion surely to my tent\nHath brought the men who are, of all the Greeks,\nDespite my anger, dearest to my heart.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, he led them in, and plac\u2019d\nOn couches spread with, purple carpets o\u2019er,\nThen thus address\u2019d Patroclus at his side:\n\u201cSon of Menoetius, set upon the board\nA larger bowl, and stronger mix the wine,\nAnd serve a cup to each: beneath my roof\nThis night my dearest friends I entertain.\u201d\nHe said; Patroclus his commands obey\u2019d;\nAnd in the fire-light plac\u2019d an ample tray,\nAnd on it laid of goat\u2019s flesh and of sheep\u2019s\nA saddle each; and with them, rich in fat,\nA chine of well-fed hog; Automedon\nHeld fast, while great Achilles carv\u2019d the joints.\nThe meat, prepar\u2019d, he fix\u2019d upon the spits:\nPatroclus kindled then a blazing fire;\nAnd when the fire burnt hotly, and the flame\nSubsided, spread the glowing embers out,\nAnd hung the spits above; then sprinkled o\u2019er\nThe meat with salt, and lifted from the stand.\nThe viands cook\u2019d and plac\u2019d upon the board,\nFrom baskets fair Patroclus portion\u2019d out\nThe bread to each; the meat Achilles shar\u2019d.\nFacing the sage Ulysses, sat the host\nOn th\u2019 other side the tent; and bade his friend,\nPatroclus, give the Gods their honours due:\nHe in the fire the wonted off\u2019rings burnt:\nThey on the viands set before them fell.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nAjax to Phoenix sign\u2019d: Ulysses saw\nThe sign, and rising, fill\u2019d a cup with wine,\nAnd pledg\u2019d Achilles thus: \u201cTo thee I drink,\nAchilles! nobly is thy table spread,\nAs heretofore in Agamemnon\u2019s tent,\nSo now in thine; abundant is the feast:\nBut not the pleasures of the banquet now\nWe have in hand: impending o\u2019er our arms\nGrave cause of fear, illustrious chief, we see;\nGrave doubts, to save, or see destroy\u2019d our ships,\nIf thou, great warrior, put not forth thy might.\nFor close beside the ships and wall are camp\u2019d\nThe haughty Trojans and renown\u2019d allies:\nTheir watch-fires frequent burn throughout the camp;\nAnd loud their boast that nought shall stay their hands,\nUntil our dark-ribb\u2019d ships be made their prey.\nJove too for them, with fav\u2019ring augury\nSends forth his lightning; boastful of his strength,\nAnd firmly trusting in the aid of Jove,\nHector, resistless, rages; nought he fears\nOr God or man, with martial fury fir\u2019d.\nHe prays, impatient, for th\u2019 approach of morn;\nThen, breaking through the lofty sterns, resolv\u2019d\nTo the devouring flames to give the ships,\nAnd slay the crews, bewilder\u2019d in the smoke.\nAnd much my mind misgives me, lest the Gods\nHis threats fulfil, and we be fated here\nTo perish, far from Argos\u2019 grassy plains.\nUp then! if in their last extremity\nThy spirit inclines, though late, to save the Greeks\nSore press\u2019d by Trojan arms: lest thou thyself\nHereafter feel remorse; the evil done\nIs past all cure; then thou reflect betimes\nHow from the Greeks to ward the day of doom.\nDear friend, remember now thy father\u2019s words,\nThe aged Peleus, when to Atreus\u2019 son\nHe sent thee forth from Phthia, how he said,\n\u2018My son, the boon of strength, if so they will,\nJuno or Pallas have the pow\u2019r to give;\nBut thou thyself thy haughty spirit must curb.\nFor better far is gentle courtesy:\nAnd cease from angry strife, that so the Greeks\nThe more may honour thee, both young and old.\u2019\nSuch were the words thine aged father spoke,\nWhich thou hast now forgotten; yet, e\u2019en now,\nPause for awhile, and let thine anger cool;\nAnd noble gifts, so thou thy wrath remit,\nFrom Agamemnon shalt thou bear away.\nListen to me, while I recount the gifts\nWhich in his tent he pledg\u2019d him to bestow.\nSev\u2019n tripods promis\u2019d he, untouch\u2019d by fire,\nOf gold, ten talents, twenty caldrons bright,\nTwelve pow\u2019rful horses, in the course renown\u2019d.\nWho by their speed have many prizes won.\nNot empty-handed could that man be deem\u2019d,\nNor poor in gold, who but so much possess\u2019d\nAs by those horses has for him been won.\nSev\u2019n women too, well skill\u2019d in household cares,\nLesbians, whom he selected for himself,\nThat day thou captur\u2019dst Lesbos\u2019 goodly isle,\nIn beauty far surpassing all their sex.\nThese will he give; and with them will he send\nThe fair Briseis, her whom from thy tent\nHe bore away; and add a solemn oath,\nHe ne\u2019er approach\u2019d her bed, nor held with her\nSuch intercourse as man with woman holds.\nAll these shall now be thine: but if the Gods\nShall grant us Priam\u2019s city to destroy,\nOf gold and brass, when we divide the spoil,\nWith countless heaps a vessel shalt thou freight,\nAnd twenty captives thou thyself shalt choose,\nAll only less than Argive Helen fair.\nAnd if it be our fate to see again\nThe teeming soil of Argos, thou mayst be\nHis son by marriage, and in honour held\nAs is Orestes, who, his only son,\nIs rear\u2019d at home in luxury, and ease.\nThree daughters fair are his, Chrysothemis,\nIphianassa, and Laodice;\nOf these whiche\u2019er thou wilt, to Peleus\u2019 house,\nNo portion ask\u2019d for, thou shalt take to wife;\nAnd with her will he add such wedding gifts,\nAs never man before to daughter gave.\nSev\u2019n prosp\u2019rous towns besides; Cardamyle,\nAnd Enope, and Ira\u2019s grassy plains,\nAnd Pherae, and Antheia\u2019s pastures deep,\n\u00c6peia fair, and vine-clad Pedasus;\nAll by the sea, by sandy Pylos\u2019 bounds.\nThe dwellers there in flocks and herds are rich,\nAnd, as a God, will honour thee with gifts,\nAnd to thy sceptre ample tribute pay.\nAll these he gives, so thou thy wrath remit.\nBut if thou hold Atrides in such hate,\nHim and his gifts, yet let thy pity rest\nOn all the other Greeks, thus sore bested;\nBy whom thou shalt be honour\u2019d as a God:\nFor great the triumph that thou now mayst gain;\nE\u2019en Hector\u2019s self is now within thy reach;\nFor he is near at hand; and in his pride\nAnd martial fury deems that none, of all\nOur ships contain, can rival him in arms.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cHeav\u2019n-born Ulysses, sage in council, son\nOf great Laertes, I must frankly speak\nMy mind at once, my fix\u2019d resolve declare:\nThat from henceforth I may not by the Greeks,\nBy this man and by that, be importun\u2019d.\nHim as the gates of hell my soul abhors,\nWhose outward words his secret thoughts belie,\nHear then what seems to me the wisest course.\nOn me nor Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nNor others shall prevail, since nought is gain\u2019d\nBy toil unceasing in the battle field.\nWho nobly fight, but share with those who skulk;\nLike honours gain the coward and the brave;\nAlike the idlers and the active die:\nAnd nought it profits me, though day by day\nIn constant toil I set my life at stake;\nBut as a bird, though ill she fare herself,\nBrings to her callow brood the food she takes,\nSo I through many a sleepless night have lain,\nAnd many a bloody day have labour\u2019d through,\nEngag\u2019d in battle on your wives\u2019 behalf.\nTwelve cities have I taken with my ships;\nEleven more by land, on Trojan soil:\nFrom all of these abundant stores of wealth\nI took, and all to Agamemnon gave;\nHe, safe beside his ships, my spoils receiv\u2019d,\nA few divided, but the most retain\u2019d.\nTo other chiefs and Kings he meted out\nTheir sev\u2019ral portions, and they hold them still;\nFrom me, from me alone of all the Greeks,\nHe bore away, and keeps my cherish\u2019d wife;\nWell! let him keep her, solace of his bed!\nBut say then, why do Greeks with Trojans fight?\nWhy hath Atrides brought this mighty host\nTo Troy, if not in fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s cause?\nOf mortals are there none that love their wives,\nSave Atreus\u2019 sons alone? or do not all,\nWho boast the praise of sense and virtue, love\nAnd cherish each his own? as her I lov\u2019d\nE\u2019en from my soul, though captive of my spear.\nNow, since he once hath robb\u2019d me, and deceiv\u2019d,\nLet him not seek my aid; I know him now,\nAnd am not to be won; let him devise,\nWith thee, Ulysses, and the other Kings,\nHow best from hostile fires to save his ships.\nHe hath completed many mighty works\nWithout my aid; hath built a lofty wall,\nAnd dug a trench around it, wide and deep,\nAnd in the trench hath fix\u2019d a palisade;\nNor so the warrior-slayer Hector\u2019s might\nCan keep in check; while I was in the field,\nNot far without the walls would Hector range\nHis line of battle, nor beyond the Oak\nAnd Scaean gates would venture; there indeed\nHe once presum\u2019d to meet me, hand to hand,\nAnd from my onset narrowly escap\u2019d.\nBut as with Hector now no more I fight,\nTo-morrow morn, my off\u2019rings made to Jove,\nAnd all the Gods, and freighted well my ships,\nAnd launch\u2019d upon the main, thyself shall see,\nIf that thou care to see, my vessels spread\nO\u2019er the broad bosom of the Hellespont,\nMy lusty crews plying the vig\u2019rous oar;\nAnd if th\u2019 Earth-shaker send a fav\u2019ring breeze,\nThree days will bear us home to Phthia\u2019s shore.\nThere did I leave abundant store of wealth,\nWhen hitherward I took my luckless way;\nThither from hence I bear, of ruddy gold,\nAnd brass, and women fair, and iron hoar\nThe share assign\u2019d me; but my chiefest prize\nThe monarch Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nHimself who gave, with insult takes away.\nTo him then speak aloud the words I send,\nThat all may know his crimes, if yet he hope\nSome other Greek by treach\u2019rous wiles to cheat,\nCloth\u2019d as he is in shamelessness! my glance,\nAll brazen as he is, he dare not meet.\nI share no more his counsels, nor his acts;\nHe hath deceiv\u2019d me once, and wrong\u2019d; again\nHe shall not cozen me! Of him, enough!\nI pass him by, whom Jove hath robb\u2019d of sense.\nHis gifts I loathe, and spurn; himself I hold\nAt a hair\u2019s worth; and would he proffer me\nTenfold or twentyfold of all he has,\nOr ever may be his; or all the gold\nSent to Orchomenos or royal Thebes,\nEgyptian, treasurehouse of countless wealth,\nWho boasts her hundred gates, through each of which\nWith horse and car two hundred warriors march:\nNay, were his gifts in number as the sand,\nOr dust upon the plain, yet ne\u2019er will I\nBy Agamemnon be prevail\u2019d upon,\nTill I have paid him back my heart\u2019s offence.\nNor e\u2019er of Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nWill I a daughter wed; not were she fair\nAs golden Venus, and in works renown\u2019d\nAs Pallas, blue-ey\u2019d Maid, yet her e\u2019en so\nI wed not; let him choose some other Greek,\nSome fitting match, of nobler blood than mine.\nBut should the Gods in safety bring me home,\nAt Peleus\u2019 hands I may receive a wife;\nAnd Greece can boast of many a lovely maid,\nIn Hellas or in Phthia, daughters fair\nOf chiefs who hold their native fortresses:\nOf these, at will, a wife I may select:\nAnd ofttimes hath my warlike soul inclin\u2019d\nTo take a wedded wife, a fitting bride,\nAnd aged Peleus\u2019 wealth in peace enjoy.\nFor not the stores which Troy, they say, contain\u2019d\nIn peaceful times, ere came the sons of Greece,\nNor all the treasures which Apollo\u2019s shrine,\nThe Archer-God, in rock-built Pythos holds,\nMay weigh with life; of oxen and of sheep\nSuccessful forays may good store provide;\nAnd tripods may be gain\u2019d, and noble steeds:\nBut when the breath of man hath pass\u2019d his lips,\nNor strength nor foray can the loss repair.\nI by my Goddess-mother have been warn\u2019d,\nThe silver-footed Thetis, that o\u2019er me\nA double chance of destiny impends:\nIf here remaining, round the walls of Troy\nI wage the war, I ne\u2019er shall see my home,\nBut then undying glory shall be mine:\nIf I return, and see my native land,\nMy glory all is gone; but length of life\nShall then be mine, and death be long deferr\u2019d.\nIf others ask\u2019d my counsel, I should say,\n\u2018Homeward direct your course; of lofty Troy\nYe see not yet the end; all-seeing Jove\nO\u2019er her extends his hand; on him relying\nHer people all with confidence are fill\u2019d.\u2019\nGo then; my answer to the chiefs of Greece\nSpeak boldly\u2014such the privilege of age\u2014\nBid that some better counsel they devise\nTo save their ships and men; their present scheme,\nMy anger unappeas\u2019d, avails them nought.\nBut Phoenix here shall stay, and sleep to-night;\nAnd with the morrow he with me shall sail\nAnd seek our native land, if so he will:\nFor not by force will I remove him hence.\u201d\n\nHe said; they all, confounded by his words,\nIn silence heard; so sternly did he speak.\nAt length, in tears, the aged Phoenix spoke,\nFor greatly fear\u2019d he for the ships of Greece:\n\u201cIf, great Achilles, on returning home\nThy mind is set, nor canst thou be induc\u2019d\nTo save the ships from fire, so fierce thy wrath;\nHow then, dear boy, can I remain behind,\nAlone? whom with thee aged Peleus sent,\nThat day when he in Agamemnon\u2019s cause\nFrom Phthia sent thee, inexperienc\u2019d yet\nIn all the duties of confed\u2019rate war,\nAnd sage debate, on which attends renown.\nMe then he sent, instructor of thy youth,\nTo prompt thy language, and thine acts to guide.\nSo not from thee, dear boy, can I consent\nTo part, though Heav\u2019n should undertake my age\nTo prompt thy language, and thine acts to guide.\nSo not from thee, dear boy, can I consent\nTo part, though Heav\u2019n should undertake my age\nTo wipe away, and vig\u2019rous youth restore,\nSuch as I boasted, when from Greece I fled\nBefore my angry sire, Amyntor, son\nOf Ormenus; a fair-hair\u2019d concubine\nCause of the quarrel; her my father lov\u2019d,\nAnd by her love estrang\u2019d, despis\u2019d his wife,\nMy mother; oft she pray\u2019d me to seduce,\nTo vex th\u2019 old man, my father\u2019s concubine;\nI yielded; he, suspecting, on my head\nA curse invok\u2019d, and on the Furies call\u2019d\nHis curse to witness, that upon his knees\nNo child, by me begotten, e\u2019er should sit:\nHis curse the Gods have heard, and ratified,\nTh\u2019 infernal King, and awful Proserpine.\nThen would I fain have slain him with the sword,\nHad not some God my rising fury quell\u2019d,\nAnd set before my mind the public voice,\nThe odium I should have to bear \u2019mid Greeks,\nIf branded with the name of patricide.\nBut longer in my angry father\u2019s house\nTo dwell, my spirit brook\u2019d not, though my friends\nAnd kinsmen all besought me to remain;\nAnd many a goodly sheep, and many a steer\nThey slew, and many swine, with fat o\u2019erlaid,\nThey sing\u2019d, and roasted o\u2019er the burning coals;\nAnd drank in many a cup the old man\u2019s wine.\nNine nights they kept me in continual watch,\nBy turns relieving guards. The fires meanwhile\nBurnt constant: one beneath the porch that fac\u2019d\nThe well-fenc\u2019d court; one in the vestibule\nBefore my chamber door. The tenth dark night\nMy chamber\u2019s closely-fitting doors I broke,\nAnd lightly vaulted o\u2019er the court-yard fence,\nBy guards alike and servant maids unmark\u2019d.\nThrough all the breadth of Hellas then I fled,\nUntil at length to Phthia\u2019s fruitful soil,\nMother of flocks, to Peleus\u2019 realm I came,\nWho kindly welcom\u2019d me, and with such love\nAs to his only son, his well-belov\u2019d,\nA father shows, his gen\u2019rous gifts bestow\u2019d.\nHe gave me wealth, he gave me ample rule;\nAnd on the bounds of Phthia bade me dwell,\nAnd o\u2019er the Dolopes hold sov\u2019reign sway.\nThee too, Achilles, rival of the Gods,\nSuch, as thou art I made thee; from my soul\nI lov\u2019d thee; nor wouldst thou with others go\nOr to the meal, or in the house be fed,\nTill on my knee thou satt\u2019st, and by my hand\nThy food were cut, the cup were tender\u2019d thee;\nAnd often, in thy childish helplessness.\nThe bosom of my dress with wine was drench\u2019d;\nSuch care I had of thee, such pains I took,\nRememb\u2019ring that by Heav\u2019n\u2019s decree, no son\nOf mine I e\u2019er might see; then thee I made,\nAchilles, rival of the Gods, my son,\nThat thou mightst be the guardian of mine age.\nBut thou, Achilles, curb thy noble rage;\nA heart implacable beseems thee not.\nThe Gods themselves, in virtue, honour, strength,\nExcelling thee, may yet be mollified;\nFor they, when mortals have transgress\u2019d, or fail\u2019d\nTo do aright, by sacrifice and pray\u2019r,\nLibations and burnt-off\u2019rings, may be sooth\u2019d.\nPray\u2019rs are the daughters of immortal Jove;\nBut halt, and wrinkled, and of feeble sight,\nThey plod in Ate\u2019s track; while Ate, strong\nAnd swift of foot, outstrips their laggard pace,\nAnd, dealing woe to man, o\u2019er all the earth\nBefore them flies: they, following, heal her wounds.\nHim who with honour welcomes their approach,\nThey greatly aid, and hear him when he prays;\nBut who rejects, and sternly casts them off,\nTo Saturn\u2019s son they go, and make their pray\u2019r\nThat Ate follow him and claim her dues.\nThen to the daughters of immortal Jove,\nDo thou, Achilles, show the like respect,\nThat many another brave man\u2019s heart hath sway\u2019d.\nIf to thy tent no gifts Atrides brought,\nWith promises of more, but still retain\u2019d\nHis vehement enmity, I could not ask\nThat thou thy cherish\u2019d anger shouldst discard,\nAnd aid the Greeks, how great so-e\u2019er their need.\nBut now large off\u2019rings hath he giv\u2019n, and more\nHath promis\u2019d; and, of all the Greeks, hath sent\nTo pray thine aid, the men thou lov\u2019st the best.\nDiscredit not their mission, nor their words.\nTill now, I grant thee, none could blame thy wrath.\nIn praise of men in ancient days renown\u2019d,\nThis have we heard, that how-so-e\u2019er might rage\nTheir hostile feuds, their anger might be still\nBy gifts averted, and by words appeas\u2019d.\nOne case I bear in mind, in times long past,\nAnd not in later days; and here, \u2019mid friends,\nHow all occurr\u2019d, will I at length recite.\nTime was, that with \u00c6tolia\u2019s warlike bands\nRound Calydon the Acarnanians fought\nWith mutual slaughter; these to save the town,\nThe Acarnanians burning to destroy.\nThis curse of war the golden-throned Queen\nDiana sent, in anger that from her\n\u0152neus the first-fruits of his field withheld.\nThe other Gods their hecatombs receiv\u2019d;\nDiana\u2019s shrine alone no off\u2019rings deck\u2019d,\nNeglected, or o\u2019erlook\u2019d; the sin was great;\nAnd in her wrath the arrow-darting Queen\nA savage wild-boar sent, with gleaming tusks,\nWhich \u0152neus\u2019 vineyard haunting, wrought him harm.\nThere laid he prostrate many a stately tree,\nWith root and branch, with blossom and with fruit.\nHim Meleager, son of \u0152neus, slew,\nWith youths and dogs from all the neighbouring towns\nCollected; smaller force had not avail\u2019d,\nSo huge he was, so fierce; and many a youth\nHad by his tusks been laid upon the bier.\nA fierce contention then the Goddess rais\u2019d,\nFor the boar\u2019s head and bristly hide, between\nThe Acarnanian and th\u2019 \u00c6tolian bands.\nWhile warlike Meleager kept the field,\nSo long the Acarnanians far\u2019d but ill;\nNor dar\u2019d, despite the numbers of their host,\nMaintain their ground before the city walls.\nWhen he to anger yielded, which sometimes\nSwells in the bosom e\u2019en of wisest men,\nIncens\u2019d against his mother, he withdrew\nTo Cleopatra fair, his wedded wife;\n(Marpessa her, Evenus\u2019 daughter, bore\nTo Idas, strongest man of all who then\nWere living, who against Apollo\u2019s self\nFor the neat-footed maiden bent his bow.\nHer parents call\u2019d the child Alcyone,\nIn mem\u2019ry of the tears her mother shed,\nRival of Alcyon\u2019s melancholy fate,\nWhen by far-darting Phoebus forc\u2019d away).\nWith her, retiring from the field, he nurs\u2019d\nHis wrath; resenting thus his mother\u2019s curse,\nAlthaea; she her brother\u2019s death bore hard,\nAnd pray\u2019d to Heav\u2019n above, and with her hands\nBeating the solid earth, the nether pow\u2019rs,\nPluto and awful Proserpine, implor\u2019d,\nDown on her knees, her bosom wet with tears,\nDeath on her son invoking; from the depths\nOf Erebus Erinnys heard her pray\u2019r,\nGloom-haunting Goddess, dark and stern of heart.\nSoon round the gates the din of battle rose,\nThe tow\u2019rs by storm assaulted; then his aid\nTh\u2019 \u00c6tonian Elders and the sacred priests\nWith promises of great reward implor\u2019d.\nA fruitful plot they bade him set apart,\nThe richest land in lovely Calydon,\nOf fifty acres: half for vineyard meet,\nAnd half of fertile plain, for tillage clear\u2019d.\nUpon the threshold of his lofty rooms\nOld \u0152neus stood, and at the portals clos\u2019d\nHe knock\u2019d in vain, a suppliant to his son.\nHis sisters and his brother join\u2019d their pray\u2019rs,\nBut sterner his rejection of their suit;\nThe friends he valued most, and lov\u2019d the best,\nYet they too fail\u2019d his fix\u2019d resolve to shake;\nTill to his very doors the war had reach\u2019d,\nThe foe upon the tow\u2019rs, the town in flames:\nThen Meleager\u2019s beauteous wife, at length,\nIn tears, beseeching him, the thousand ills\nRecall\u2019d, which on a captur\u2019d town attend;\nThe slaughter\u2019d men, the city burnt with fire,\nThe helpless children and deep-bosom\u2019d dames\nA prey to strangers. List\u2019ning to the tale,\nHis spirit was rous\u2019d within him; and again\nHe took the field, and donn\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring arms.\nThus did his act from doom th\u2019 \u00c6tolians save\nSpontaneous; yet he gain\u2019d not, though he sav\u2019d,\nThe rich reward they once were pledg\u2019d to give.\nBut be not thou like him, nor let thy God\nTurn thitherward thy thoughts; our ships on fire,\nThine aid will less be priz\u2019d; come, take the gifts,\nAnd as a God be honour\u2019d by the Greeks.\nIf thou hereafter, unsolicited,\nThe battle join, the Greeks thou mayst protect,\nBut not an equal share of honour gain.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cPhoenix, my second father, rev\u2019rend sire,\nSuch honours move me not; my honour comes\nFrom Jove, whose will it is that I should here\nRemain beside the ships, while I retain\nBreath in my lungs and vigour in my limbs.\nThis too I say, and bear it in thy mind:\nDisturb me not with weeping and complaints,\nTo do Atrides grace; if him thou love,\nMy love for thee perchance may turn to hate:\nMy friend should honour him who honours me.\nBut come with me, and of my kingdom half,\nAnd equal honours shalt thou share with me.\nThese shall our message bear; stay thou the while,\nAnd on soft couch repose; to-morrow morn\nWill we determine or to sail or stay.\u201d\n\nHe said, and with his eyebrows gave a sign\nIn silence to Patroclus, to prepare\nA bed for Phoenix, that without delay\nThe rest might leave the tent; then thus began\nAjax, the godlike son of Telamon:\n\u201cUlysses sage, Laertes\u2019 high-born son,\nDepart we now; for this way our discourse\nCan lead to no result; behoves us bear\nOur tidings, all unwelcome as they are,\nBack to the chiefs awaiting our return.\nAchilles hath allow\u2019d his noble heart\nTo cherish rancour and malignant hate;\nNor reeks he of his old companions\u2019 love,\nWherewith we honour\u2019d him above the rest.\nRelentless he! a son\u2019s or brother\u2019s death,\nBy payment of a fine, may be aton\u2019d;\nThe slayer may remain in peace at home,\nThe debt discharg\u2019d; the other will forego,\nThe forfeiture receiv\u2019d, his just revenge;\nBut thou maintain\u2019st a stern, obdurate mood.\nAnd for a single girl! we offer sev\u2019n,\nSurpassing fair, and other gifts to boot.\nWe now bespeak thy courtesy; respect\nThy hearth; remember that beneath thy roof\nWe stand, deputed by the gen\u2019ral voice\nOf all the host; and fain would claim to be,\nOf all the Greeks, thy best and dearest friends.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cIllustrious Ajax, son of Telamon,\nWithout offence hast thou thy message giv\u2019n;\nBut fury fills my soul, whene\u2019er I think\nHow Agamemnon, \u2019mid th\u2019 assembled Greeks,\nInsulting, held me forth to public scorn,\nAs some dishonour\u2019d, houseless vagabond.\nBut go ye now, and bear my answer back:\nNo more in bloody war will I engage,\nTill noble Hector, Priam\u2019s godlike son,\nO\u2019er slaughter\u2019d Greeks, your ships enwrapp\u2019d in fire,\nShall reach the quarters of the Myrmidons.\nEre he assail my ship and tents, I think\nThat Hector, valiant as he is, will pause.\u201d\nThus he: they each the double goblet rais\u2019d,\nAnd, to the Gods their due libations pour\u2019d,\nUlysses leading, to the ships return\u2019d.\n\nMeanwhile Patroclus bade th\u2019 attendant maids\nPrepare a bed for Phoenix; they obey\u2019d,\nAnd quickly laid the bed with fleeces warm,\nAnd rugs, and linen light and fine o\u2019erspread.\nThere slept th\u2019 old man, and waited for the morn.\nWithin the tent\u2019s recess Achilles slept;\nAnd by his side, from Lesbos captive brought,\nDaughter of Phorbas, Diomede fair;\nOn th\u2019 other side Patroclus lay; with him\nThe graceful Iphis, whom, when Scyros\u2019 isle\nHe captur\u2019d, and Enyes\u2019 rock-built fort,\nAchilles to his lov\u2019d companion gave.\n\nWhen to Atrides\u2019 tent the envoys came,\nThe chiefs, uprising, pledg\u2019d them one by one\nIn golden goblets; then their tidings ask\u2019d.\nFirst Agamemnon, King of men, enquir\u2019d:\n\u201cTell me, renown\u2019d Ulysses, pride of Greece,\nWhat says he: will he save our ships from fire,\nOr still, in wrathful mood, withhold his aid?\u201d\n\nTo whom again Ulysses, stout of heart:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nHis anger is not quench\u2019d, but fiercer still\nIt glows; thy gifts and thee alike he spurns;\nHe bids thee with the other chiefs concert\nThe means thy people and thy ships to save;\nAnd menaces himself at early dawn\nTo launch his well-trimm\u2019d vessels on the main.\nNay more, he counsels others, so he says,\nHomeward to turn, since here of lofty Troy\nWe see not yet the end; all-seeing Jove\nO\u2019er her extends his hand; on him relying,\nHer people all with confidence are fill\u2019d.\nSuch was his language; here before you stand\nAjax and both the heralds, sage, grave men,\nWho with me went, and will confirm my words.\nOld Phoenix left we there, so will\u2019d the chief,\nThat with the morrow he with him may sail,\nAnd seek their native land, if so he will;\nFor not by force will he remove him hence.\u201d\n\nUlysses thus; they all in silence heard,\nAmaz\u2019d, so stern the message that he bore.\nLong time in silence sat the chiefs of Greece.\nOutspoke at length the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nWould that thou ne\u2019er hadst stoop\u2019d with costly gifts\nTo sue for aid from Peleus\u2019 matchless son;\nFor he before was over-proud, and now\nThine offers will have tenfold swoll\u2019n his pride.\nBut leave we him, according to his will,\nTo go or stay: he then will join the fight,\nWhen his own spirit shall prompt, or Heav\u2019n inspire.\nBut hear ye all, and do as I advise:\nRefresh\u2019d with food and wine (for therein lie\nBoth strength and courage), turn we to our rest;\nAnd when the rosy-finger\u2019d morn appears,\nThyself among the foremost, with bold hearts,\nBefore our ships both horse and foot array.\u201d\n\nHe said; and all the chiefs with loud applause\nHis speech confirm\u2019d; then, due libations pour\u2019d,\nEach to his sev\u2019ral tent they all withdrew;\nThen laid them down, and sought the boon of sleep.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE NIGHT ADVENTURE OF DIOMED AND ULYSSES.\n\n\nUpon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, the distress of\nAgamemnon is described in the most lively manner. He takes no rest that\nnight, but passes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and contriving\nall possible methods for the public safety. Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses,\nand Diomed, are employed in raising the rest of the captains. They call\na council of war, and determine to send scouts into the enemy\u2019s camp,\nto learn their posture, and discover their intentions. Diomed\nundertakes the hazardous enterprise, and makes choice of Ulysses for\nhis companion. In their passage they surprise Dolon, whom Hector had\nsent on a like design to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are\ninformed of the situation of the Trojans and auxiliary forces, and\nparticularly of Rhesus, and the Thracians, who were lately arrived.\nThey pass on with success; kill Rhesus with several of his officers,\nand seize the famous horses of that prince, with which they return in\ntriumph to the camp.\n\nThe same night continues; the scene lies in the two camps.\n\nBOOK X.\n\nIn night-long slumbers lay the other chiefs\nOf all the Greeks, by gentle sleep subdued;\nBut not on Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nBy various cares oppress\u2019d, sweet slumber fell.\nAs when from Jove, the fair-hair\u2019d Juno\u2019s Lord,\nFlashes the lightning, bringing in its train\nTempestuous storm of mingled rain and hail\nOr snow, by winter sprinkled o\u2019er the fields;\nOr op\u2019ning wide the rav\u2019nous jaws of war;\nSo Agamemnon from his inmost heart\nPour\u2019d forth in groans his multitudinous grief,\nHis spirit within him sinking. On the plain\nHe look\u2019d, and there, alarm\u2019d, the watchfires saw,\nWhich, far advanc\u2019d before the walls of Troy,\nBlaz\u2019d numberless; and thence of pipes and flutes\nHe heard the sound, and busy hum of men.\nUpon the ships he look\u2019d, and men of Greece,\nAnd by the roots his hair in handfuls tore\nTo Jove on high; deep groan\u2019d his mighty heart.\nThus as he mus\u2019d, the wisest course appear\u2019d,\nWith Nestor, son of Neleus, to confer,\nIf they some scheme in council might devise\nTo ward destruction from the Grecian host.\nHe rose, and o\u2019er his body drew his vest,\nAnd underneath his well-turn\u2019d feet he bound\nHis sandals fair; then o\u2019er his shoulders threw,\nDown reaching to his feet, a lion\u2019s skin,\nTawny and vast; then grasp\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear.\n\nOn Menelaus weigh\u2019d an equal dread;\nNor on his eyes that night had slumber sat,\nLest ill befall the Greeks; who, in his cause,\nCrossing the wat\u2019ry waste, had come to Troy,\nAnd bold defiance to the Trojans giv\u2019n.\nRound his broad chest a panther\u2019s skin he threw;\nThen on his head his brazen helmet plac\u2019d,\nAnd in his brawny hand a lance he bore.\nTo meet his brother went he forth, of Greece\nThe mighty monarch, as a God rever\u2019d.\nHim by the ship he found, in act to arm;\nAnd welcome was his presence to the King.\n\nThen valiant Menelaus first began:\n\u201cWhy thus in arms, good brother? seek\u2019st thou one\nThe Trojan camp to spy? I greatly fear\nThat none will undertake the task, alone\nTo spy the movements of the hostile camp\nIn the dark night: stout-hearted he must be.\u201d\n\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\u201cGreat need, my noble brother, have we both\nOf sagest counsels, if we hope the Greeks\nAnd Grecian ships from ruin to preserve,\nSince turn\u2019d against us is the mind of Jove.\nTo Hector\u2019s off\u2019rings most his soul inclines;\nFor never have I seen, or heard men tell,\nHow in one day one man has wrought such loss\nAs Hector, dear to Jove, yet not the son\nOf God or Goddess, on the Greeks has wrought.\nSuch deeds hath he achiev\u2019d, such havoc made,\nAs we shall long in bitter mem\u2019ry keep.\nHaste thou amid the ships, and hither bring\nIdomeneus and Ajax; I the while\nWill Nestor rouse, and urge that he with us\nThe outposts visit, and instruct the guard.\nTo him they best will listen; for his son\nCommands the watch; with him Meriones,\nThe follower of the King Idomeneus:\nTo them by pref\u2019rence hath this charge been giv\u2019n.\u201d\n\nHe said: and Menelaus answer\u2019d thus:\n\u201cWhat wouldst thou have me do then? here remain\nWith them, and wait thy coming, or to them\nThy message give, and follow in thy steps?\u201d\n\nHim answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cRemain thou here, lest haply we might fail\nTo meet; for in the camp are many paths.\nBut thou, where\u2019er thou go\u2019st, each sev\u2019ral man\nAddress, and ask to rise; to each his name\nAnd patronymic giving; pay to each\nAll due respect; nor bear thee haughtily;\nWe like the rest must share the load of toil.\nWhich Jove assigns to all of mortal birth.\u201d\n\nHis brother thus with counsels wise dismiss\u2019d,\nThe King to aged Nestor took his way:\nHim by his tent and dark-ribb\u2019d ship he found\nOn a soft couch; beside him lay his arms,\nHis shield, two lances, and a glitt\u2019ring helm:\nThere lay the rich-wrought belt the old man wore,\nWhen to the battle, arm\u2019d, he led his troops;\nFor nought to age\u2019s weakness would he yield.\nRaising his head, and on his elbow propp\u2019d,\nHe question\u2019d thus Atrides: \u201cWho art thou,\nThat wand\u2019rest through th\u2019 encampment thus alone,\nIn the dark night, when other mortals sleep?\nSeek\u2019st thou some mule broke loose, or comrade lost?\nSpeak, nor in silence come; what wouldst thou here?\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cO Nestor! son of Neleus, pride of Greece,\nKnow me for Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nOn whom hath Jove, beyond the lot of men,\nLaid grief that ne\u2019er shall end, while I retain\nBreath in my lungs, and vigour in my limbs.\nI wander thus, because these eyes of mine\nSweet slumber visits not, by cares of war\nOppress\u2019d, and harass\u2019d by the woes of Greece.\nMuch for the Greeks I fear; nor keeps my mind\nIts wonted firmess; I am ill at ease;\nAnd leaps my troubled heart as tho\u2019 \u2019twould burst\nMy bosom\u2019s bounds; my limbs beneath me shake.\nBut if thou wilt, since thou too know\u2019st not sleep,\nTogether to the outposts let us go,\nAnd see if there, by toil and sleep o\u2019erpow\u2019r\u2019d,\nThe guard repose, neglectful of their watch.\nThe foe is close at hand; nor are we sure\nHe may not hazard e\u2019en a night attack.\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied;\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nNot all the hopes that Hector entertains\nShall by the Lord of counsel be fulfill\u2019d;\nFor him are toil and danger yet in store,\nIf but Achilles of his wrath repent.\nGladly will I attend thee; others too,\nTydides, spearman bold, Ulysses sage,\nAjax the swift, and Phyleus\u2019 noble son,\nShould all be summon\u2019d; and \u2019twere well that one\nAcross the camp should run, to call in haste\nThe godlike Ajax, and Idomeneus;\nTheirs are the farthest ships, nor near at hand.\nBut, dear to me as Menelaus is,\nAnd highly honour\u2019d, I must blame, that thus\n(Though thou shouldst take offence, I needs must say)\nHe sleeps, and leaves the toil to thee alone.\nWith all the chiefs he should be busied now,\nImploring aid, in this our utmost need.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cFor other times, old man, reserve thy blame;\nSometimes, I own, he lags behind, nor takes\nHis share of labour; not from indolence,\nOr want of sense; but still regarding me;\nWaiting from me an impulse to receive.\nBut now, before me he was up, and came\nTo visit me; and I have sent him on\nTo call those very men whom thou hast nam\u2019d.\nCome then; for we, beside the gates, and guard\nShall find them; there my orders were to meet.\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied;\n\u201cThen none can blame him; nor can any Greek\nJustly refuse his summons to obey.\u201d\n\nHe said, and round his body wrapped his vest;\nThen on his feet his sandals fair he bound,\nAnd o\u2019er his shoulders clasp\u2019d a purple cloak,\nDoubled, with ample folds, and downy pile;\nThen took his spear, with point of sharpen\u2019d brass,\nAnd through the camp prepar\u2019d to take his way.\nGerenian Nestor from his slumbers first\nUlysses, sage as Jove in council, rous\u2019d,\nLoud shouting; soon the voice his senses reach\u2019d;\nForth from his tent he came, and thus he spoke:\n\u201cWhat cause so urgent leads you, through the camp,\nIn the dark night to wander thus alone?\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cUlysses sage, Laertes\u2019 godlike son,\nBe not offended; such the stress that now\nWeighs down our army; come thou then with us,\nAnd others let us call; with whom \u2019tis meet\nThat we should counsel take, to fight or fly.\u201d\n\nHe said; Ulysses to the tent return\u2019d;\nThen, his broad shield across his shoulders thrown,\nCame forth again, and with them took his way.\nTo Diomed, the son of Tydeus, next\nThey went; and him they found beside his arms,\nWithout his tent; his comrades slept around,\nTheir heads upon their bucklers laid; their spears\nStood upright, on the butts; the burnish\u2019d brass\nLike Heav\u2019n\u2019s own lightning, flashing far around.\nStretch\u2019d on a wild bull\u2019s hide the chief repos\u2019d,\nA gay-wrought carpet roll\u2019d beneath his head.\nGerenian Nestor close behind him stood,\nAnd touched him with his foot, and thus in tone\nReproachful spoke: \u201cArouse thee, Tydeus\u2019 son!\nWhy sleep\u2019st thou thus all night? or know\u2019st thou not\nThat on the very margin of the plain,\nAnd close beside the ships the Trojans lie,\nAnd little space between the camps is left?\u201d\n\nQuick rous\u2019d from sleep, thus answer\u2019d Diomed:\n\u201cBeshrew thy heart, old man! no labour seems\nFor thee too hard; are there not younger men\nTo run about the camp, and summon all\nThe sev\u2019ral chiefs? thou dost too much, old man.\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cTrue, friend, and full of wisdom are thy words;\nGood sons indeed I have, and followers brave\nAnd many, who might well my message bear;\nBut great is now the stress that lies on Greece;\nFor on a razor\u2019s edge is balanc\u2019d now,\nTo all the Greeks, the chance of life or death.\nDo thou then go (for thou my younger art),\nAnd if thou pity me, thyself arouse\nAjax the swift, and Phyleus\u2019 noble son.\u201d\nHe said; the warrior round his shoulders threw,\nDown reaching to his feet, a lion\u2019s hide,\nTawny and dark; and took his pond\u2019rous spear.\nHe went, arous\u2019d, and with him brought the chiefs.\n\nWhen to the guard they came, not sunk in sleep\nFound they the leaders; but on wakeful watch\nIntent, and all alert beside their arms.\nAs round a sheepfold keep their anxious watch\nThe dogs, who in the neighbouring thicket hear\nSome beast, that, bold in search of prey, has come\nDown from the mountain; loud the clamours rise\nOf men and dogs; all sleep is banish\u2019d thence;\nSo from their eyes was banish\u2019d sleep, who watch\u2019d\nThrough that disastrous night; still plainward turning\nAt ev\u2019ry movement in the Trojan camp.\nThe old man saw, well-pleas\u2019d; and thus address\u2019d\nWith cheering words the captains of the guard:\n\u201cWatch ever thus, good youths; nor be surpris\u2019d\nBy slumber, lest the foe a triumph gain.\u201d\n\nThis said, he cross\u2019d the ditch, and with him went\nThe Grecian leaders, to the council call\u2019d:\nWith them, admitted to the conf\u2019rence, went\nMeriones, and Nestor\u2019s noble son.\nThe deep-dug ditch they cross\u2019d, and sat them down\nUpon an open space, from corpses clear;\nWhere Hector from the slaughter of the Greeks\nTurn\u2019d back, when Ev\u2019ning spread her veil around:\nThere sat they down, and there the conf\u2019rence held.\nGerenian Nestor first took up the word:\n\u201cO friends! is any here with heart so bold\nWho dares, self-confident, the Trojan camp\nTo enter? there some straggler he might take,\nOr in the camp itself some tidings gain,\nWhat are their secret counsels; if they mean\nHere by the ships to hold their ground, or back,\nSated with vict\u2019ry, to the town retire.\nThis could he learn, and hither scatheless bring\nHis tidings, high as Heav\u2019n in all men\u2019s mouths\nWould be his praise, and ample his reward.\nFor ev\u2019ry captain of a ship should give\nA coal-black ewe, and at her foot a lamb,\nA prize beyond compare; and high should be\nHis place at banquets and at solemn feasts.\u201d\n\nHe said; but all the chiefs in silence heard;\nThen rose the valiant Diomed, and said:\n\u201cNestor, that heart is mine; I dare alone\nEnter the hostile camp, so close at hand;\nYet were one comrade giv\u2019n me, I should go\nWith more of comfort, more of confidence.\nWhere two combine, one before other sees\nThe better course; and ev\u2019n though one alone\nThe readiest way discover, yet would be\nHis judgment slower, his decision less.\u201d\n\nHe said, and many chiefs to Diomed\nProffer\u2019d companionship; stood forth at once,\nWith him to penetrate the Trojan camp,\nThe two Ajaces, ministers of Mars;\nStood forth Meriones, and eagerly\nStood forth the son of Nestor; Atreus\u2019 son,\nThe royal Menelaus, spearman bold,\nAnd stout Ulysses, whose enduring heart\nFor ev\u2019ry deed of valour was prepar\u2019d.\nRose Agamemnon, King of men, and said:\n\u201cTydides, comrade dearest to my soul,\nChoose thou thine own companion, whom thou wilt;\nOf all the many here that proffer aid\nHim whom thou deem\u2019st the best; nor from respect\nTo persons leave the better man behind,\nAnd take the worse; nor def\u2019rence show to rank,\nNot though the purest royal blood were his.\u201d\n\nIn fear for Menelaus thus he spoke:\nThen answer\u2019d valiant Diomed, and said;\n\u201cIf my companion I may freely choose,\nHow can I pass the sage Ulysses by?\nOf ready wit, and dauntless courage, prov\u2019d\nIn ev\u2019ry danger; and to Pallas dear.\nI should not fear, by him accompanied,\nTo pass through fire, and safely both return;\nSo far in prudence he surpasses all.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Ulysses, stout of heart:\n\u201cTydides, nor exaggerated praise\nBestow on me, nor censure; for thou speak\u2019st\nTo those who know me all for what I am.\nBut go we; night wanes fast, the morn is near:\nThe stars are high in Heav\u2019n; and of the night\nTwo thirds are spent, one third alone remains.\u201d\n\nHe said; and both prepar\u2019d to don their arms.\nThe youthful warrior Thrasymedes gave\nTo Diomed a two-edg\u2019d sword (his own\nHad in the ship been left) and ample shield;\nThen on his brows a leathern headpiece plac\u2019d,\nWithout or peak or plume; a simple casque,\nSuch as is worn by youths to guard their head.\nA bow, and well-fill\u2019d quiver, and a sword,\nMeriones to sage Ulysses gave;\nAnd on his brows a leathern headpiece plac\u2019d,\nWell wrought within, with num\u2019rous straps secur\u2019d,\nAnd on th\u2019 outside, with wild boars\u2019 gleaming tusks\nProfusely garnish\u2019d, scatter\u2019d here and there\nBy skilful hand; the midst with felt was lin\u2019d;\nThis from Amyntor, son of Ormenus,\nAutolycus from Eleon bore away,\nSpoil of his pillag\u2019d house; Autolycus\nGave to Amphidamas, Cytheran chief,\nWho in Scandea dwelt; Amphidamas\nTo Molus, pledge of friendship; he again\nGave to his son, Meriones, from whom\nIt now encircled sage Ulysses\u2019 brow.\nThus with accoutrements and arms supplied,\nThey left their brother chiefs, and took their way.\nThen close beside their path, by Pallas sent,\nRose, on the right, a heron; through the gloom\nThey saw it not indeed, but heard the cry.\nThe fav\u2019ring sign with joy Ulysses hail\u2019d,\nAnd thus to Pallas pray\u2019d: \u201cHear me, thou child\nOf aegis-bearing Jove, who still hast stood\nIn ev\u2019ry peril at my side, whose eye\nMy ev\u2019ry movement sees; now, Goddess, now\nBefriend me; grant that safe, with triumph crown\u2019d,\nWe may return, some great exploit achiev\u2019d,\nSuch as the Trojans long may bear in mind.\u201d\n\nHim following, thus the brave Tydides pray\u2019d:\n\u201cMy voice too, child of Jove, undaunted, hear;\nAnd be with me, as with my father erst,\nThe godlike Tydeus, when to Thebes he went,\nAn envoy, in advance; and left behind,\nUpon Asopus\u2019 banks the mail-clad Greeks.\nSmooth was the message which to Thebes he bore;\nBut great, his mission ended, were the deeds\nThat with thine aid he wrought; for, Goddess, thou\nWast with him, and thine arm was his defence:\nSo be thou now with me, and me defend.\nThen on thine altar will I sacrifice\nA yearling heifer, broad of brow, untam\u2019d,\nWhereon no yoke hath mortal ever laid:\nHer will I give, and tip her horns with gold.\u201d\n\nThus as they pray\u2019d, their pray\u2019r the Goddess heard;\nThen, their devotions ended, on they far\u2019d\nThrough the deep dead of night, like lions twain,\n\u2019Mid slaughter, corpses, arms, and blacken\u2019d gore.\n\nNor, in the Trojan camp, did Hector leave\nThe chiefs to rest; but all to conf\u2019rence call\u2019d,\nThe leaders and the councillors of Troy;\nTo whom his prudent speech he thus address\u2019d:\n\u201cWho is there here, that for a rich reward\nA noble work will undertake? A car\nAnd two strong-collar\u2019d horses, best of all\nThat can be found within the Grecian lines,\nShall he receive, who, to his endless praise,\nShall dare approach the ships; and learn if still\nThey keep their wonted watch, or, by our arms\nSubdued and vanquished, meditate retreat,\nAnd, worn with toil, the nightly watch neglect.\u201d\nThus Hector spoke; but all in silence heard.\n\nThere was one Dolon in the Trojan camp,\nThe herald\u2019s son, Eumedes; rich in gold\nAnd brass; not fair of face, but swift of foot;\nAmid five sisters he the only son;\nWho thus to Hector and the Trojans spoke:\n\n\u201cHector, with dauntless courage I will dare\nApproach the ships, and bring thee tidings sure;\nBut hold thou forth thy royal staff, and swear\nThat I the horses and the brass-bound car\nShall have, the boast of Peleus\u2019 matchless son:\nNot vain shall be my errand, nor deceive\nThy hopes; right through the camp I mean to pass\nTo Agamemnon\u2019s tent, where all the chiefs\nDebate in council, or to fight or fly.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Hector took his royal staff,\nAnd swore to him: \u201cBe witness Jove himself,\nThe Lord of thunder, that no Trojan man,\nThyself except, shall e\u2019er those horses drive;\nFor thee they are reserv\u2019d, a glorious prize.\u201d\n\nThus Hector swore; though unfulfill\u2019d the oath.\nThe hope to Dolon fresh assurance gave.\nForthwith, his bow across his shoulders slung,\nA grisly wolf-skin o\u2019er it, on his head\nA cap of marten\u2019s fur, and in his hand\nA jav\u2019lin, from the camp he took his way,\nStraight to the Grecian ships; but never thence\nDestin\u2019d to bring th\u2019 expected tidings back.\n\nThe crowd of men and horses left behind,\nBriskly he mov\u2019d along; Ulysses first\nMark\u2019d his approach, and to Tydides said:\n\u201cSee, from the camp where some one this way comes,\nWith what intent I know not; if to play\nThe spy about the ships, or rob the dead.\nTurn we aside, and let him pass us by\nA little way; we then with sudden rush\nMay seize him; or if he outstrip us both\nBy speed of foot, may urge him tow\u2019rd the ships,\nDriving him still before us with our spears,\nAnd from, the city cutting off his flight.\u201d\nThus saying, \u2019mid the dead, beside the road\nThey crouch\u2019d; he, all unconscious, hasten\u2019d by.\nBut when such space was interpos\u2019d as leave\nBetween the sluggish oxen and themselves[3]\nA team of mules (so much the faster they\nThrough the stiff fallow drag the jointed plough),\nThey rush\u2019d upon him; at the sound he stopp\u2019d,\nDeeming that from the Trojan camp they came,\nBy Hector sent, to order his return.\nWithin a spear\u2019s length when they came, or less,\nFor foes he knew them, and to night address\u2019d\nHis active limbs; they rush\u2019d in hot pursuit.\nAnd as two hounds, well practis\u2019d in the chase,\nWith glist\u2019ning fangs, unflagging, strain to catch,\nIn woodland glade, some pricket deer, or hare,\nThat flies before them, screaming; so those two,\nTydides and Ulysses, stout of heart,\nWith fiery zeal, unflagging, strain\u2019d to catch\nThe flying Dolon, from the camp cut off;\nBut when the fugitive approach\u2019d the ships,\nClose by the guard, fresh vigour Pallas gave\nTo Diomed, lest haply from the walls\nSome other might anticipate his blow,\nAnd he himself but second honours gain.\nTydides then with threat\u2019ning gesture cried,\n\u201cStop, or I hurl my spear; and small thy chance,\nIf I assail thee, of escape from death.\u201d\nHe said, and threw his spear; but by design\nIt struck him not; above his shoulder flew\nThe polish\u2019d lance, and quiver\u2019d in the ground.\nSudden he stopp\u2019d, with panic paralys\u2019d:\nHis teeth all chatt\u2019ring, pale with fear he stood,\nWith falt\u2019ring accents; panting, they came up\nAnd seiz\u2019d him in their grasp; he thus, in tears:\n\u201cSpare but my life; my life I can redeem;\nFor ample stores I have of gold, and brass,\nAnd well-wrought iron; and of these my sire\nWould pay a gen\u2019rous ransom, could he learn\nThat in the Grecian ships I yet surviv\u2019d.\u201d\n\nTo whom Ulysses, deep-designing, thus:\n\u201cBe of good cheer; nor let the fear of death\nDisturb thy mind; but tell me truly this;\nHow is \u2019t that tow\u2019rd the ships thou com\u2019st alone,\nIn the still night, when other mortals sleep?\nCom\u2019st thou perchance for plunder of the dead?\nOr seek\u2019st upon our ships to play the spy,\nBy Hector sent? or of thine own accord?\u201d\n\nThen Dolon thus\u2014his knees with terror shook\u2014\n\u201cWith much persuasion, of my better mind\nHector beguil\u2019d me, off\u2019ring as my prize\nAchilles\u2019 horses and his brass-bound car;\nThrough the dark night he sent me, and enjoin\u2019d,\nEnt\u2019ring your hostile camp, to learn if still\nYe keep your wonted watch, or by our arms\nSubdued and vanquish\u2019d, meditate retreat,\nAnd worn with toil, your nightly watch neglect.\u201d\n\nTo whom Ulysses thus with scornful smile:\n\u201cHigh soar\u2019d thy hopes indeed, that thought to win\nThe horses of Achilles; hard are they\nFor mortal man to harness or control,\nSave for Achilles\u2019 self, the Goddess-born.\nBut tell me truly this; when here thou cam\u2019st,\nWhere left\u2019st thou Hector, guardian chief of Troy?\nWhere are his warlike arms? his horses where?\nWhere lie the rest? and where are plac\u2019d their guards?\nWhat are their secret counsels? do they mean\nHere by the ships to keep their ground, or back,\nSated with vict\u2019ry, to the town return?\u201d\n\nWhom Dolon answer\u2019d thus, Eumedes\u2019 son:\n\u201cThy questions all true answers shall receive;\nHector, with those who share his counsels, sits\nIn conf\u2019rence, far apart, near Ilus\u2019 tomb;\nBut for the guards thou speak\u2019st of, noble chief,\nNot one is station\u2019d to protect the camp.\nAround the Trojan fires indeed, perforce,\nA watch is kept; and they, among themselves,\nDue caution exercise: but, for th\u2019 Allies,\nThey sleep, and to the Trojans leave the watch,\nSince nor their children nor their wives are near.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer sage Ulysses thus:\n\u201cSay now, where sleep they? with the Trojans mix\u2019d,\nOr separate? explain, that I may know.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d Dolon thus, Eumedes\u2019 son:\n\u201cTo this too will I give ye answer true;\nNext to the sea the Carian forces lie;\nThe Paeon archers and the Leleges,\nThe Caucons, and the bold Pelasgians next;\nOn Thymbra\u2019s side the Lycians\u2019 lot has fall\u2019n,\nThe Mysians brave, the Phrygian cavalry,\nAnd the Maeonians with their horsehair plumes.\nBut why of these enquire? if ye intend\nAn inroad on the camp, apart from all,\nNew come, the farthest off, the Thracians lie:\nRhesus their King, the son of Eioneus,\nSleeps in the midst; no steeds that e\u2019er I saw\nFor size and beauty can with his compare:\nWhiter than snow, and swifter than the wind.\nWith gold and silver is his chariot wrought,\nHis armour golden, of gigantic size,\nA marvel to behold! it seems not meet\nFor mortal man, but for th\u2019 immortal Gods.\nBut take me now in safety to the ships;\nOr leave me here in fetters bound, that so,\nEre ye return, ye may approve my words,\nAnd see if I have told you true, or no.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Diomed with stern regard:\n\u201cDolon, though good thy tidings, hope not thou,\nOnce in our hands, to \u2019scape the doom of death;\nFor if we now should let thee go, again\nIn after times thou mightst our ships approach,\nAs secret spy, or open enemy:\nBut if beneath my hands thou lose thy life,\nNo farther trouble shalt thou cause the Greeks.\u201d\nHe said; and as the suppliant sought in vain\nTo touch his beard, imploring, through his throat,\nBoth tendons sev\u2019ring, drove his trenchant blade:\nEv\u2019n while he spoke, his head was roll\u2019d in dust.\nThe cap of marten fur from off his head\nThey took, the wolf-skin, and the bow unstrung,\nAnd jav\u2019lin; these Ulysses held aloft,\nAnd thus to Pallas pray\u2019d, who gave the spoil:\n\u201cReceive, great Goddess, these our gifts; to thee,\nOf all th\u2019 Immortals on Olympus\u2019 height,\nOur off\u2019rings first we give; conduct us now,\nThe Thracian camp and Thracian steeds to gain.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, amid the tamarisk scrub\nFar off he threw the trophies; then with reeds,\nAnd twigs new broken from the tamarisk boughs,\nHe set a mark, lest in the gloom of night\nReturning, they might haply miss the spot.\nThen on they pass\u2019d thro\u2019 arms and blacken\u2019d gore,\nAnd reach\u2019d the confines of the Thracian camp.\nThere found they all by sleep subdued; their arms\nBeside them on the ground, in order due,\nIn triple rows; and by the side of each,\nHarness\u2019d and yok\u2019d, his horses ready stood.\nSurrounded by his warriors, Rhesus slept;\nBeside him stood his coursers fleet, their reins\nSuspended to the chariot\u2019s topmost rail:\nUlysses mark\u2019d him as he lay, and said,\n\u201cThis is the man, Tydides, these the steeds,\nTo us by Dolon, whom we slew, describ\u2019d.\nNow then, put forth thy might; beseems it not\nTo stand thus idly with thine arms in hand:\nLoose thou the horses; or do thou the men\nDespatch, and to my care the horses leave.\u201d\n\nHe said: and Pallas vigour new inspir\u2019d,\nThat right and left he smote; dire were the groans\nOf slaughter\u2019d men; the earth was red with blood;\nAnd as a lion on th\u2019 untended flock\nOf sheep or goats with savage onslaught springs,\nEv\u2019n so Tydides on the Thracians sprang,\nTill twelve were slain; and as Tydides\u2019 sword\nGave each to death, Ulysses by the feet\nDrew each aside; reflecting, that perchance\nThe horses, startled, might refuse to pass\nThe corpses; for as yet they knew them not.\nBut when Tydides saw the sleeping King,\nA thirteenth victim to his sword was giv\u2019n,\nPainfully breathing; for by Pallas\u2019 art,\nHe saw that night, as in an evil dream,\nThe son of \u0152neus standing o\u2019er his head.\nMeanwhile Ulysses sage the horses loos\u2019d;\nHe gather\u2019d up the reins, and with his bow\n(For whip was none at hand) he drove them forth;\nThen softly whistling to Tydides gave\nA signal; he, the while, remain\u2019d behind,\nMusing what bolder deed he yet might do;\nWhether the seat, whereon the arms were laid,\nTo draw away, or, lifted high in air,\nTo bear it off in triumph on the car;\nOr on the Thracians farther loss inflict;\nBut while he mus\u2019d, beside him Pallas stood,\nAnd said, \u201cBethink thee, Tydeus\u2019 son, betimes\nOf thy return, lest, if some other God\nShould wake the Trojans, thou shouldst need to fly.\u201d\n\nShe said; the heav\u2019nly voice he recogniz\u2019d,\nAnd mounted straight the car; Ulysses touch\u2019d\nThe horses with his bow; and, urg\u2019d to speed,\nThey tow\u2019rd the ships their rapid course pursued.\n\nNor idle watch Apollo kept, who saw\nTydides o\u2019er the plain by Pallas led;\nWith anger fill\u2019d, the Trojan camp he sought;\nAnd Rhesus\u2019 kinsman, good Hippocoon,\nThe Thracian councillor, from sleep arous\u2019d;\nAwaking, when the vacant space he view\u2019d,\nWhere late had stood the horses; and his friends\nGasping in death, and welt\u2019ring in their blood,\nHe groan\u2019d as on his comrade\u2019s name he call\u2019d:\nThen loud the clamour rose, and wild uproar,\nUnspeakable, of Trojans thronging round;\nThey marvell\u2019d at the deeds; but marvell\u2019d more\nHow they who wrought them had escap\u2019d unscath\u2019d.\n\nMeantime arriv\u2019d where Hector\u2019s scout they slew,\nUlysses, lov\u2019d of Heav\u2019n, a moment check\u2019d\nHis eager steeds; Tydides from the car\nLeap\u2019d to the ground, and in Ulysses\u2019 hand\nThe bloody trophies plac\u2019d; then mounted quick,\nAnd tow\u2019rd the ships, their destin\u2019d goal, urg\u2019d on\nThe fiery horses; nothing loth, they flew.\nNestor first heard the sound, and cried, \u201cO friends,\nThe leaders and the councillors of Greece,\nAm I deceiv\u2019d, or is it true? methinks\nThe sound of horses, hurrying, strikes mine ear;\nGrant Heav\u2019n, Ulysses and brave Diomed\nMay bring those horses from the Trojan camp;\nYet much I fear our bravest may have met\nWith some disaster \u2019mid the crowd of foes.\u201d\n\nHe scarce had ended, when themselves appear\u2019d,\nAnd from the car descended: welcom\u2019d back\nWith cordial grasp of hands, and friendly words.\nGerenian Nestor first, enquiring, said:\n\u201cTell me, renown\u2019d Ulysses, pride of Greece,\nWhence come these horses? from the Trojan camp?\nOr hath some God, that met you by the way,\nBestow\u2019d them, radiant as the beams of light?\nAmong the Trojans day by day I move;\n\u2019Tis not my wont; old warrior though I be,\nTo lag behind; but horses such as these\nI never saw; some God hath giv\u2019n them, sure;\nFor Jove, the Cloud-compeller, loves you both,\nAnd Pallas, child of aegis-bearing Jove.\u201d\n\nTo whom again the sage Ulysses thus:\n\u201cO Nestor, son of Neleus, pride of Greece,\nHad they so will\u2019d, the Gods, so great their pow\u2019r,\nE\u2019en better horses could have giv\u2019n than these;\nBut these, old man, are Thracians, newly come;\nWhose King the valiant Diomed hath slain,\nAnd with him twelve, the best of all his band.\nA scout too have we slain, by Hector sent,\nAnd by the Trojan chiefs, to spy our camp.\u201d\n\nHe said, and o\u2019er the ditch the horses drove,\nExulting in their prize; and with him went\nThe other chiefs, rejoicing, through the camp.\nArriv\u2019d at Diomed\u2019s well-order\u2019d tent,\nFirst with strong halters to the rack, where stood,\nHigh-fed with corn, his own swift-footed steeds,\nThe horses they secur\u2019d; Ulysses then\nThe bloody spoils of Dolon stow\u2019d away\nIn the ship\u2019s stern, till fitting sacrifice\nTo Pallas might be offer\u2019d; to the sea\nDescending then, they wash\u2019d away the sweat,\nWhich on their necks, and thighs, and knees had dried;\nThe sweat wash\u2019d off, and in the ocean waves\nThemselves refresh\u2019d, they sought the polish\u2019d bath;\nThen, by the bath restor\u2019d, and all their limbs\nAnointed freely with the lissom oil,\nSat down to breakfast; and from flowing bowls\nIn Pallas\u2019 honour pour\u2019d the luscious wine.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE THIRD BATTLE, AND THE ACTS OF AGAMEMNON.\n\n\nAgamemnon, having armed himself, leads the Grecians to battle; Hector\nprepares the Trojans to receive them; while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva,\ngive the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all before him; and Hector is\ncommanded by Jupiter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline the\nengagement, till the king should be wounded, and retire from the field.\nHe then makes a great slaughter of the enemy; Ulysses and Diomed put a\nstop to him for a time; but the latter, being wounded by Paris, is\nobliged to desert his companion, who is encompassed by the Trojans,\nwounded, and in the utmost danger, till Menelaus and Ajax rescue him.\nHector comes against Ajax, but that hero alone opposes multitudes and\nrallies the Greeks. In the meantime Machaon, in the other wing of the\narmy, is pierced with an arrow by Paris, and carried from the fight in\nNestor\u2019s chariot. Achilles (who overlooked the action from his ship)\nsends Patroclus to inquire which of the Greeks was wounded in that\nmanner. Nestor entertains him in his tent with an account of the\naccidents of the day, and a long recital of some former wars which he\nhad remembered, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to\nfight for his countrymen, or at least to permit him to do it clad in\nAchilles\u2019 armour. Patroclus in his return meets Eurypylus also wounded,\nand assists in that distress.\n\nThis book opens with the eight-and-twentieth day of the poem; and the\nsame day, with its various actions and adventures, is extended through\nthe twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth,\nand part of the eighteenth books. The scene lies in the field near the\nmonument of Ilus.\n\nBOOK XI.\n\nNow rose Aurora from Tithonus\u2019 bed,\nTo mortals and Immortals bringing light;\nWhen to the ships of Greece came Discord down,\nDespatch\u2019d from Jove, with dire portents of war.\nUpon Ulysses\u2019 lofty ship she stood,\nThe midmost, thence to shout to either side,\nOr to the tents of Ajax Telamon,\nOr of Achilles, who at each extreme,\nConfiding in their strength, had moor\u2019d their ships.\nThere stood the Goddess, and in accents loud\nAnd dread she call\u2019d, and fix\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast\nThe fierce resolve to wage unwearied war;\nAnd dearer to their hearts than thoughts of home\nOr wish\u2019d return, became the battle-field.\n\nAtrides, loudly shouting, call\u2019d the Greeks\nTo arms: himself his flashing armour donn\u2019d.\nFirst on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix\u2019d,\nFasten\u2019d with silver clasps; his ample chest\nA breastplate guarded, giv\u2019n by Cinyras\nIn pledge of friendship; for in Cyprus\u2019 isle\nHe heard the rumour of the glorious fleet\nAbout to sail for Troy; and sought with gifts\nTo win the favour of the mighty King.\nTen bands were there inwrought of dusky bronze,\nTwelve of pure gold, twice ten of shining tin:\nOf bronze six dragons upwards tow\u2019rds the neck\nTheir length extended, three on either side:\nIn colour like the bow, which Saturn\u2019s son\nPlac\u2019d in the clouds, a sign to mortal men:\nThen o\u2019er his shoulder threw his sword; bright flash\u2019d\nThe golden studs; the silver scabbard shone,\nWith golden baldrick fitted; next his shield\nHe took, full-siz\u2019d, well-wrought, well-prov\u2019d in fight;\nAround it ran ten circling rims of brass;\nWith twenty bosses round of burnish\u2019d tin,\nAnd, in the centre, one of dusky bronze.\nA Gorgon\u2019s head, with aspect terrible,\nWas wrought, with Fear and Flight encircled round:\nDepending from a silver belt it hung;\nAnd on the belt a dragon, wrought in bronze,\nTwin\u2019d his lithe folds, and turn\u2019d on ev\u2019ry side,\nSprung from a single neck, his triple head.\nThen on his brow his lofty helm he plac\u2019d,\nFour-crested, double-peak\u2019d, with horsehair plumes,\nThat nodded,-fearful, from the warrior\u2019s head.\nThen took two weighty lances, tipp\u2019d with brass,\nWhich fiercely flash\u2019d against the face of Heav\u2019n:\nPallas and Juno thund\u2019ring from on high\nIn honour of Mycen\u00e6\u2019s wealthy lord.\n\nForthwith they order\u2019d, each his charioteer,\nTo stay his car beside the ditch; themselves,\nOn foot, in arms accoutred, sallied forth,\nAnd loud, ere early dawn, the clamour rose.\nAdvanc\u2019d before the cars, they lin\u2019d the ditch;\nFollow\u2019d the cars, a little space between:\nBut Jove with dire confusion fill\u2019d their ranks,\nWho sent from Heav\u2019n a show\u2019r of blood-stain\u2019d rain.\nIn sign of many a warrior\u2019s coming doom,\nSoon to the viewless shades untimely sent.\nMeanwhile upon the slope, beneath the plain,\nThe Trojan chiefs were gather\u2019d; Hector\u2019s self,\nPolydamas, \u00c6neas, as a God\nIn rev\u2019rence held; Antenor\u2019s three brave sons,\nAgenor\u2019s godlike presence, Polybus,\nAnd, heav\u2019nly fair, the youthful Acamas.\nIn front was seen the broad circumference\nOf Hector\u2019s shield; and as amid the clouds\nShines forth the fiery dog-star, bright and clear,\nAnon beneath the cloudy veil conceal\u2019d;\nSo now in front was Hector seen, and now\nPass\u2019d to the rear, exhorting; all in brass,\nHis burnish\u2019d arms like Jove\u2019s own lightning flash\u2019d.\n\nAs in the corn-land of some wealthy Lord\nThe rival bands of reapers mow the swathe,\nBarley or wheat; and fast the trusses fall;\nSo Greeks and Trojans mow\u2019d th\u2019 opposing ranks;\nNor these admitted thought of faint retreat,\nBut still made even head; while those, like wolves,\nRush\u2019d to the onset; Discord, Goddess dire,\nBeheld, rejoicing; of the heav\u2019nly pow\u2019rs\nShe only mingled with the combatants;\nThe others all were absent; they, serene,\nRepos\u2019d in gorgeous palaces, for each\nAmid Olympus\u2019 deep recesses built.\nYet all the cloud-girt son of Saturn blam\u2019d,\nWho will\u2019d the vict\u2019ry to the arms of Troy.\nHe heeded not their anger; but withdrawn\nApart from all, in pride of conscious strength,\nSurvey\u2019d the walls of Troy, the ships of Greece,\nThe flash of arms, the slayers and the slain.\n\nWhile yet \u2019twas morn, and wax\u2019d the youthful day,\nThick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell\nOn either side: but when the hour was come\nWhen woodmen, in the forest\u2019s deep recess,\nPrepare their food, and wearied with the toil\nOf felling loftiest trees, with aching arms\nTurn with keen relish to their midday meal;\nThen Grecian valour broke th\u2019 opposing ranks,\nAs each along the line encourag\u2019d each;\nFirst sprang the monarch Agamemnon forth,\nAnd brave Bienor slew, his people\u2019s guard;\nAnd, with the chief, his friend and charioteer,\nOileus; he, down-leaping from the car,\nStood forth defiant; but between his brows\nThe monarch\u2019s spear was thrust; nor aught avail\u2019d\nThe brass-bound helm, to stay the weapon\u2019s point;\nThrough helm and bone it pass\u2019d, and all the brain\nWas shatter\u2019d; forward as he rush\u2019d, he fell.\nThem left he there, their bare breasts gleaming white,\nStripp\u2019d of their arms; and hasten\u2019d in pursuit\nOf Antiphus and Isus, Priam\u2019s sons,\nA bastard one, and one legitimate,\nBoth on one car; the bastard held the reins:\nBeside him stood the gallant Antiphus.\nThem, as they fed their flocks on Ida\u2019s heights,\nAchilles once had captive made, and bound\nWith willow saplings, till for ransom freed.\nThe mighty monarch, Agamemnon, drove\nThrough Isus\u2019 breast his spear; his weighty sword\nDescended on the head of Antiphus\nBeside the ear, and hurl\u2019d him from his car;\nThese of their armour he despoil\u2019d in haste,\nKnown to him both; for he had seen them oft\nBeside the ships, when thither captive brought\nFrom Ida by Achilles, swift of foot.\nAs when a lion in their lair hath seiz\u2019d\nThe helpless offspring of a mountain doe,\nAnd breaks their bones with ease, and with strong teeth\nCrushes their tender life; nor can their dam,\nThough close at hand she be, avail them aught;\nFor she herself by deadly terror seiz\u2019d,\nThrough the thick coppice and the forest flies,\nPanting, and bath\u2019d in sweat, the monster\u2019s rush;\nSo dar\u2019d no Trojan give those brethren aid,\nThemselves in terror of the warlike Greeks.\nPeisander next, and bold Hippolochus,\nSons of Antimachus (\u2019twas he who chief,\nSeduc\u2019d by Paris\u2019 gold and splendid gifts,\nAdvis\u2019d the restitution to refuse\nOf Helen to her Lord), the King assail\u2019d;\nBoth on one car; but from their hands had dropp\u2019d\nThe broider\u2019d reins; bewilder\u2019d there they stood;\nWhile, with a lion\u2019s bound, upon them sprang\nThe son of Atreus; suppliant, in the car,\nThey clasp\u2019d his knees; \u201cGive quarter, Atreus\u2019 son,\nRedeem our lives; our sire Antimachus\nPossesses goodly store of brass and gold,\nAnd well-wrought iron; and of these he fain\nWould pay a noble ransom, could he hear\nThat in the Grecian ships we yet surviv\u2019d.\u201d\n\nThus they, with gentle words, and tears, imploring;\nBut all ungentle was the voice they heard\nIn answer; \u201cIf indeed ye be the sons\nOf that Antimachus, who counsel gave,\nWhen noble Menelaus came to Troy\nWith sage Ulysses, as ambassadors,\nTo slay them both, nor suffer their return,\nPay now the forfeit of your father\u2019s guilt.\u201d\nHe said, and with a spear-thrust through his breast\nPeisander dash\u2019d to earth; backward he fell.\nDown leap\u2019d Hippolochus; but Atreus\u2019 son\nSevering his hands and neck, amid the throng\nSent whirling like a bowl the gory head.\nThese left he there; and where the thickest throng\nMaintain\u2019d the tug of war, thither he flew,\nAnd with him eager hosts of well-greav\u2019d Greeks.\nSoon on the Trojans\u2019 flight enforc\u2019d they hung,\nDestroying; foot on foot, and horse on horse;\nWhile from the plain thick clouds of dust arose\nBeneath the armed hoofs of clatt\u2019ring steeds;\nAnd on the monarch Agamemnon press\u2019d,\nStill slaying, urging still the Greeks to arms.\nAs when amid a densely timber\u2019d wood\nLight the devouring flames, by eddying winds\nHither and thither borne, fast falls the copse\nProstrate beneath the fire\u2019s impetuous course;\nSo thickly fell the flying Trojans\u2019 heads\nBeneath the might of Agamemnon\u2019s arm;\nAnd here and there, athwart the pass of war,\nWas many an empty car at random whirl\u2019d\nBy strong-neck\u2019d steeds, of guiding hands bereft;\nStretch\u2019d on the plain they lay, more welcome sight\nTo carrion birds than to their widow\u2019d wives.\nBut Hector, from the fray and din of war,\nAnd dust, and blood, and carnage, Jove withdrew.\nStill on Atrides press\u2019d, the Greek pursuit\nWith eager shouts exciting; past the tomb\nOf Ilus, ancient son of Dardanus,\nAnd tow\u2019rd the fig-tree, midway o\u2019er the plain,\nStraining to gain the town, the Trojans fled;\nWhile loudly shouting, his unconquer\u2019d hands\nWith carnage dyed, Atrides urg\u2019d their flight.\nBut when the Scaean gates and oak were reach\u2019d,\nThey made a stand, and fac\u2019d the foe\u2019s assault.\nSome o\u2019er the open plain were yet dispers\u2019d;\nAs heifers, by a lion scatter\u2019d wide,\nAt dead of night; all fly; on one descends\nThe doom of death; her with his pow\u2019rful teeth\nHe seizes, and, her neck first broken, rends,\nAnd on her entrails gorging, laps her blood.\nSo these the monarch Agamemnon chas\u2019d,\nSlaying the hindmost; they in terror fled:\nSome headlong, backward some, Atrides\u2019 hand\nHurl\u2019d from their chariot many a warrior bold;\nSo forward and so fierce he bore his spear.\nBut as he near\u2019d the city, and stood beneath\nThe lofty wall, the Sire of Gods and men\nFrom Heav\u2019n descended; on the topmost height\nOf Ida\u2019s spring-abounding hill he sat:\nAnd while his hand the lightning grasp\u2019d, he thus\nTo golden-winged Iris gave command:\n\n\u201cHaste thee, swift Iris, and to Hector bear\nFrom me this message; bid him, that as long\nAs Agamemnon in the van appears,\nRaging, and dealing death among the ranks,\nHe from the battle keep himself aloof,\nBut urge the rest undaunted to maintain\nThe stubborn fight; but should Atrides, struck\nBy spear or arrow, to his car withdraw,\nHe shall from me receive such pow\u2019r to slay,\nAs to the ships shall bear him, ere the sun\nDecline, and Darkness spread her hallowing shade.\u201d\n\nThus he; to Troy, obedient to his word,\nFrom Ida\u2019s heights swift-footed Iris sped:\nAmid the horses and the well-fram\u2019d cars\nThe godlike Hector, Priam\u2019s son, she found,\nAnd stood beside him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cHector, thou son of Priam, sage as Jove\nIn council, he the Universal Lord\nSends thee by me this message; that as long\nAs Agamemnon in the van appears,\nRaging, and dealing death amid the ranks,\nThou from the battle keep thyself aloof,\nBut urge the rest undaunted to maintain\nThe stubborn fight; but should Atrides, struck\nBy spear or arrow, to his car withdraw,\nThou shalt from him receive such pow\u2019r to slay\nAs to the ships shall bear thee, ere the sun\nDecline, and Darkness spread her hallowing shade.\u201d\n\nSwift-footed Iris said, and disappear\u2019d;\nBut from his chariot Hector leap\u2019d to earth,\nHither and thither passing through the ranks,\nWith brandish\u2019d jav\u2019lins urging to the fight.\nLoud, at his bidding, rose the battle-cry;\nBack roll\u2019d the tide; again they fac\u2019d the Greeks:\nOn th\u2019 other side the Greeks their masses form\u2019d,\nIn line of battle rang\u2019d; opposed they stood;\nAnd in the front, to none content to cede\nThe foremost place, was Agamemnon seen.\n\nSay now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell,\nOf all the Trojans and their fam\u2019d Allies,\nWho first oppos\u2019d to Agamemnon stood.\nIphidamas, Antenor\u2019s gallant son,\nStalwart and brave; in fertile Thracia bred,\nMother of flocks; him, in his infant years,\nHis grandsire Cisseus, fair Theano\u2019s sire,\nIn his own palace rear\u2019d; and when he reach\u2019d\nThe perfect measure of his glorious youth,\nStill in his house retain\u2019d him, and to wife\nGave him his daughter; but when tidings came\nOf Grecian warfare, from the marriage straight\nEmbarking, with twelve beaked ships he sailed,\nThat owned his sway; these on Percote\u2019s shore\nHe left; and came himself on foot to Troy;\nWho now confronted Atreus\u2019 godlike son.\n\nWhen near they drew, Atrides miss\u2019d his aim,\nHis spear diverging; then Iphidamas\nBeneath the breastplate, striking on his belt,\nStrove with strong hand to drive the weapon home:\nYet could not pierce the belt\u2019s close-plaited work;\nThe point, encounter\u2019d by the silver fold,\nWas bent, like lead; then with his pow\u2019rful hand\nThe monarch Agamemnon seiz\u2019d the spear,\nAnd tow\u2019rd him drew, and with a lion\u2019s strength\nWrench\u2019d from his foeman\u2019s grasp; then on his neck\nLet fall his sword, and slack\u2019d his limbs in death.\nThere, falling in his country\u2019s cause, he slept\nThe iron sleep of death; unhappy he,\nFar from his virgin-bride, yet unpossess\u2019d,\nThough bought with costly presents; first he gave\nA hundred steers; and promis\u2019d thousands more\nOf sheep and goats from out his countless flocks.\nHim Agamemnon of his arms despoil\u2019d,\nAnd to the crowd of Greeks the trophies bore.\nBut when Antenor\u2019s eldest-born beheld,\nCoon, th\u2019 observ\u2019d of all men, bitt\u2019rest grief\nHis eyes o\u2019ershadow\u2019d, for his brother\u2019s fate;\nAnd, unperceiv\u2019d by Atreus\u2019 godlike son,\nStanding aside, he struck him with his spear,\nThrough the mid arm, beneath the elbow\u2019s bend;\nAnd drove right through the weapon\u2019s glitt\u2019ring point.\nWrith\u2019d with the pain the mighty King of men;\nYet from the combat flinch\u2019d he not, nor quail\u2019d:\nBut grasping firm his weather-toughen\u2019d spear\nOn Coon rush\u2019d, as by the feet he drew\nHis father\u2019s son, Iphidamas, away,\nInvoking all the bravest to his aid;\nAnd as he drew the body tow\u2019rd the crowd,\nBeneath the bossy shield the monarch thrust\nHis brass-clad spear, and slack\u2019d his limbs in death;\nThen near approaching, ev\u2019n upon the corpse\nOf dead Iphidamas, struck off his head:\nSo by Atrides\u2019 hand, Antenor\u2019s sons,\nTheir doom accomplish\u2019d, to the shades were sent.\nThen through the crowded ranks, with spear and sword,\nAnd massive stones, he held his furious course,\nWhile the hot blood was welling from his arm;\nBut when the wound was dry, and stanch\u2019d the blood,\nKeen anguish then Atrides\u2019 might subdued.\nAs when a woman in her labour-throes\nSharp pangs encompass, by Lucina sent,\nWho rules o\u2019er child-birth travail, ev\u2019n so keen\nThe pangs that then Atrides\u2019 might subdued.\nMounting his car he bade his charioteer\nDrive to the ships; for sore his spirit was pain\u2019d;\nBut loud and clear he shouted to the Greeks:\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nYours be it now our sea-borne ships to guard:\nSince Jove, the Lord of counsel, through the day\nWills not that I the battle should maintain.\u201d\n\nHe said: and swiftly to the ships were driv\u2019n\nHis sleek-skinn\u2019d coursers; nothing loth they flew;\nWith foam their chests were fleck\u2019d, with dust their flanks,\nAs from the field their wounded Lord they bore:\nBut Hector, as he saw the King retire,\nTo Trojans and to Lycians call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, quit ye now like men;\nPut forth your wonted valour; from the field\nTheir bravest has withdrawn, and Jove on me\nGreat glory hath shed; now headlong on the Greeks\nUrge your swift steeds, and endless honour gain.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast:\nAnd as a hunter cheers his sharp-fang\u2019d hounds\nOn forest boar or lion; on the Greeks\nSo cheer\u2019d the valiant Trojans Priam\u2019s son,\nIllustrious Hector, stern as blood-stain\u2019d Mars.\nBent on high deeds, himself in front advanc\u2019d,\nFell on the masses as a whirlwind falls,\nLashing with furious sweep the dark-blue sea.\n\nSay then, who first, who last, by Hector\u2019s hand,\nWhom Jove had will\u2019d to crown with honour, died.\nAssaeus first, and then Autonous,\nOpites, and Opheltius, Dolops, son\nOf Clytus, and \u00c6sumnus, Agelas\nAnd Orus, and brave Hipponous;\nAll these the chiefs of Greece; the nameless crowd\nHe scatter\u2019d next; as when the west wind drives\nThe clouds, and battles with the hurricane,\nBefore the clearing blast of Notus driv\u2019n;\nThe big waves heave and roll, and high aloft,\nThe gale, careering, flings the ocean spray;\nSo thick and furious fell on hostile heads\nThe might of Hector. Now had fearful deeds\nBeen done, and Greeks beside their ships had fall\u2019n\nIn shameful rout, had not Ulysses thus\nTo Diomed, the son of Tydeus, call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhy, son of Tydeus, should we thus relax\nOur warlike courage? come, stand by me now,\nTrue friend! if Hector of the glancing helm\nOur ships should capture, great were our disgrace.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cBeside thee will I stand, and still endure;\nBut brief will be the term of our success,\nSince Jove, the Cloud-compeller, not to us,\nBut to the Trojans, wills the victory.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from his car Thymbraeus hurl\u2019d,\nThrough the left breast transfix\u2019d: Ulysses\u2019 hand\nHis charioteer, the brave Molion, slew.\nThese left they there, no more to share the fight;\nThen turning, spread confusion \u2019mid the crowd:\nAs turn two boars upon the hunter\u2019s pack\nWith desp\u2019rate courage, turning so to bay,\nThose two, the Trojans scatt\u2019ring, gave the Greeks,\nFrom Hector flying, time again to breathe.\nA car they seiz\u2019d which bore two valiant chiefs,\nSons of Percotian Merops; he, o\u2019er all\nIn lore prophetic skill\u2019d, would fain at home\nHave kept them from the life-destroying war:\nBut they, by adverse fate impell\u2019d to seek\nTheir doom of death, his warning voice despis\u2019d.\nThese two, of strength and life at once bereft,\nThe son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed,\nStripp\u2019d of their armour; while Ulysses slew\nHippodamus, and bold Hyperochus.\nThus Jove, from Ida\u2019s height beholding, held\nHis even scale, each party slaught\u2019ring each.\nThen with his spear Tydides through the loins\nAgastrophus, the son of Paeon, smote;\nNo car had he at hand, whereto to fly:\nBut, ill-advis\u2019d, had in th\u2019 attendants\u2019 charge\nHis horses left far off; while he himself\nRush\u2019d \u2019mid the throng on foot, and met his doom.\nHector\u2019s quick glance athwart the files beheld,\nAnd to the rescue, with a shout, he sprang,\nThe Trojan columns following; not unmov\u2019d\nThe valiant Diomed his coming saw,\nAnd thus bespoke Ulysses at his side:\n\u201cOn us this plague, this mighty Hector, falls:\nYet stand we firm, and boldly meet the shock.\u201d\nHe said, and, poising, hurl\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear,\nAnd not in vain; on Hector\u2019s head it struck\nHis helmet\u2019s crest, but, brass encount\u2019ring brass,\nHimself it reach\u2019d not; for the visor\u2019d helm,\nApollo\u2019s gift, three-plated, stay\u2019d its force.\nYet backward Hector sprang amid the crowd,\nAnd on his knees he dropp\u2019d, his stalwart hand\nPropp\u2019d on the ground; while darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\nBut ere Tydides, following up his spear,\nAttain\u2019d from far the spot whereon he fell,\nHector reviv\u2019d, and mounting quick his car,\nDrove \u2019mid the crowd, and \u2019scap\u2019d the doom of death\nThen thus, with threat\u2019ning spear, Tydides cried:\n\u201cYet once again, vile hound, hast thou escap\u2019d;\nThy doom was nigh; but thee thy God hath sav\u2019d,\nPhoebus, to whom, amid the clash of spears,\nWell mayst thou pray! We yet shall meet again;\nWhen I shall end thee, if a guardian God\nI too may claim; meanwhile from thee I turn,\nAnd others seek on whom my hap may light.\u201d\n\nHe said, and turn\u2019d him of his arms to strip\nThe son of Paeon; but beside the stone\nThat mark\u2019d where men of old had rais\u2019d a mound\nTo Ilus, Dardan\u2019s son, the ancient chief,\nThere crouching, Paris, fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord,\nAgainst the son of Tydeus bent his bow.\nHe from the breast of brave Agastrophus\nHad stripp\u2019d the corslet; from his shoulders broad\nThe buckler, and the helmet from his head,\nWhen Paris bent his bow, and not in vain\nHis arrow launch\u2019d; Tydides\u2019 dexter foot\nRight through it pierc\u2019d, and pinn\u2019d it to the ground.\nJoyous he laugh\u2019d, and from his hiding place\nSprang forth, and thus in tones of triumph cried:\n\n\u201cThou hast it! not in vain my shaft hath flown!\nWould that, deep buried in thy flank, it touch\u2019d\nThy very life! so should our Trojans lose\nTheir panic fear, who now on thee with dread,\nAs bleating goats upon a lion, look.\u201d\n\nTo whom, unmov\u2019d, the valiant Diomed:\n\u201cPoor archer, trusting to thy bow alone,\nVile sland\u2019rer and seducer! if indeed\nThou durst in arms oppos\u2019d to me to stand,\nNought would avail thy arrows and thy bow:\nAnd now, because thy shaft hath graz\u2019d my foot,\nThou mak\u2019st thine empty boast: I heed thee not,\nMore than a woman or a puny child:\nA worthless coward\u2019s weapon hath no point.\n\u2019Tis diff\u2019rent far with me! though light it fall,\nMy spear is sharp, and whom it strikes, it slays.\nHis widow\u2019s cheeks are mark\u2019d with scars of grief,\nHis children orphans; rotting on the ground,\nRed with his blood, he lies, his fun\u2019ral rites\nBy carrion birds, and not by women paid.\u201d\n\nThus while he spoke, Ulysses, spearman bold,\nDrew near, and stood before him; he, behind,\nSat down protected, and from out his foot\nThe arrow drew; whereat sharp anguish shot\nThrough all his flesh; and mounting on his car\nHe bade his faithful charioteer in haste\nDrive to the ships, for pain weigh\u2019d down his soul.\nAlone Ulysses stood; of all the Greeks\nNot one beside him; all were panic-struck:\nThen with his spirit, perturb\u2019d, he commun\u2019d thus:\n\u201cMe miserable! which way shall I choose?\n\u2019Twere ill indeed that I should turn to flight\nBy hostile numbers daunted; yet \u2019twere worse\nHere to be caught alone; and Saturn\u2019s son\nWith panic fear the other Greeks hath fill\u2019d.\nYet why, my soul, admit such thoughts as these?\nI know that cowards from the battle fly;\nBut he who boasts a warrior\u2019s name, must learn,\nWounded or wounding, firmly still to stand.\u201d\n\nWhile in his mind and spirit thus he mus\u2019d,\nOnward the buckler\u2019d ranks of Trojans came,\nAnd, to their harm, encircled him around.\nAs when a boar, by dogs and stalwart youths\nAttack\u2019d, the shelt\u2019ring thicket leaves, and whets\nThe tusks that gleam between his curved jaws;\nThey crowd around, though ring his clatt\u2019ring tusks,\nAnd, fearful though it be, await his rush:\nSo crowded round Ulysses, dear to Jove,\nThe Trojans; he, with brandish\u2019d spear aloft,\nSprang forth, and through the shoulder, from above,\nDeiopites wounded: Thoon next\nHe slew, and Ennomus; then with his spear\nChersidamas, in act to quit his car,\nThrust through the loins below his bossy shield:\nProne in the dust, he clutch\u2019d the blood-stain\u2019d soil.\nFrom these he turn\u2019d; and wounded with his spear\nCharops, the high-born Socus\u2019 brother, son\nOf Hippasus; then forward sprang, to aid\nHis brother, godlike Socus; close he stood\nBefore Ulysses, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cFar-fam\u2019d Ulysses, as in arms, in wiles\nUnwearied, thou this day o\u2019er both the sons\nOf Hippasus, two mighty warriors slain,\nAnd of their armour spoil\u2019d, shalt make thy boast,\nOr by my spear thyself shalt lose thy life.\u201d\nHe said, and on the shield\u2019s broad circle struck:\nThrough the bright shield the sturdy weapon drove,\nAnd through the rich-wrought baldrick, from the ribs\nTearing the flesh away; but Pallas seiz\u2019d,\nAnd turn\u2019d it from the vital parts aside.\nThe wound, Ulysses knew, was not to death,\nAnd back he drew, and thus to Socus cried:\n\n\u201cIll-fated thou! thy doom hath found thee now;\nMe hast thou hinder\u2019d from the war awhile;\nBut thee to swift destruction and dark death,\nThis day I doom: great glory, of thee subdued,\nShall I obtain, and Hades take thy soul.\u201d\n\nThus he: and Socus, turning, sought to fly;\nBut as he turn\u2019d him round, Ulysses\u2019 spear\nBehind his neck, between the shoulder blades\nWas driv\u2019n, and through his chest; thund\u2019ring he fell,\nAnd o\u2019er his fall Ulysses, vaunting, thus:\n\n\u201cSocus, thou son of warlike Hippasus,\nHere hast thou found, nor couldst escape, thy doom.\nIll-fated thou! nor sire\u2019s nor mother\u2019s hand\nShall gather up thy bones, but carrion birds\nO\u2019er thee shall flap their baleful wings, and tear\nThy mangled flesh; for me, whene\u2019er I die\nThe sons of Greece will build my fun\u2019ral pile.\u201d\nFrom out his flesh, and from the bossy shield,\nThe spear of Socus, as he spoke, he drew;\nAnd as he drew it forth, out gush\u2019d his blood,\nWith anguish keen. The Trojans, when they saw\nUlysses\u2019 blood, with clam\u2019rous shouts advanc\u2019d\nPromiscuous; he, retiring, shouted loud\nTo call his comrades; loud as head of man\nCould bear, he shouted thrice; and thrice his shout\nThe warlike Menelaus heard, and thus\nTo Ajax, standing by his side, he spoke:\n\n\u201cAjax, thou Heav\u2019n-born son of Telamon,\nGreat chief of men, methinks I hear the voice\nOf stout Ulysses, as though left alone,\nAnd in the stubborn fight cut off from aid,\nBy Trojans overmaster\u2019d. Haste we then,\nFor so \u2019twere best, to give him present aid.\nBrave though he be, yet left alone, I fear\nGreat cause we Greeks may have to mourn his loss.\u201d\n\nHe spoke, and led the way; the godlike chief\nFollow\u2019d his steps: Ulysses, dear to Jove,\nSurrounded by the Trojan host they found,\nAs hungry jackals on the mountain side\nAround a stag, that from an archer\u2019s hand\nHath taken hurt, yet while his blood was warm\nAnd limbs yet serv\u2019d, has baffled his pursuit;\nBut when the fatal shaft has drain\u2019d his strength,\nThirsting for blood, beneath the forest shade,\nThe jackals seize their victim; then if chance\nA hungry lion pass, the jackals shrink\nIn terror back, while he devours the prey;\nSo round Ulysses, sage in council, press\u2019d\nThe Trojans, many and brave, yet nobly he\nAverted, spear in hand, the fatal hour;\nTill, with his tow\u2019r-like shield before him borne,\nAppear\u2019d great Ajax, and beside him stood.\nHither and thither then the Trojans fled;\nWhile with supporting arm from out the crowd\nThe warlike Menelaus led him forth,\nTill his attendant with his car drew near.\nThen Ajax, on the Trojans springing, slew\nDoryclus, royal Priam\u2019s bastard son;\nNext Pyrasus he smote, and Pandocus,\nLysander, and Pylartes; as a stream,\nSwoll\u2019n by the rains of Heav\u2019n, that from the hills\nPours down its wintry torrent on the plain;\nAnd many a blighted oak, and many a pine\nIt bears, with piles of drift-wood, to the sea\nSo swept illustrious Ajax o\u2019er the plain,\nO\u2019erthrowing men and horses; though unknown\nTo Hector; he, upon Scamander\u2019s banks\nWas warring on the field\u2019s extremest left,\nWhere round great Nestor and the warlike King\nIdomeneus, while men were falling fast,\nRose, irrepressible, the battle cry.\nHector, \u2019mid these, was working wondrous deeds,\nWith spear and car, routing th\u2019 opposed youth;\nYet had the Greeks ev\u2019n so their ground maintain\u2019d,\nBut godlike Paris, fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord,\nThrough the right shoulder, with a three-barb\u2019d shaft,\nAs in the front he fought, Machaon quell\u2019d:\nFor him the warrior Greeks were sore afraid\nLest he, as back the line of battle roll\u2019d,\nMight to the foe be left; to Nestor then\nIdomeneus address\u2019d his speech, and said:\n\n\u201cO Nestor, son of Neleus, pride of Greece,\nHaste thee to mount thy car, and with thee take\nMachaon; tow\u2019rd the vessels urge with speed\nThe flying steeds; worth many a life is his,\nThe skilful leech, who knows, with practis\u2019d hand,\nT\u2019 extract the shaft, and healing drugs apply.\u201d\n\nHe said: Gerenian Nestor at the word\nMounted his car, Machaon at his side,\nThe skilful leech, sage \u00c6sculapius\u2019 son:\nHe touch\u2019d his horses; tow\u2019rd the Grecian ships,\nAs was his purpose, nothing loth, they flew.\n\nTo Hector then Cebriones, who saw\nConfus\u2019d the Trojans\u2019 right, drew near, and said:\n\n\u201cHector, we here, on th\u2019 outskirts of the field,\nO\u2019erpow\u2019r the Greeks; on th\u2019 other side, our friends\nIn strange confusion mingled, horse and man,\nAre driv\u2019n; among them Ajax spreads dismay,\nThe son of Telamon; I know him well,\nAnd the broad shield that o\u2019er his shoulders hangs;\nThither direct we then our car, where most\nIn mutual slaughter horse and foot engage,\nAnd loudest swells, uncheck\u2019d, the battle cry.\u201d\n\nHe said, and with the pliant lash he touch\u2019d\nThe sleek-skinn\u2019d horses; springing at the sound,\nBetween the Greeks and Trojans, light they bore\nThe flying car, o\u2019er bodies of the slain\nAnd broken bucklers trampling; all beneath\nWas plash\u2019d with blood the axle, and the rails\nAround the car, as from the horses\u2019 feet,\nAnd from the felloes of the wheels, were thrown\nThe bloody gouts; yet on he sped, to join\nThe strife of men, and break th\u2019 opposing ranks.\nHis coming spread confusion \u2019mid the Greeks,\nHis spear awhile withheld; then through the rest,\nWith sword, and spear, and pond\u2019rous stones he rush\u2019d,\nBut shunn\u2019d the might of Ajax Telamon.\n\nBut Jove, high thron\u2019d, the soul of Ajax fill\u2019d\nWith fear; aghast he stood; his sev\u2019nfold shield\nHe threw behind his back, and, trembling, gaz\u2019d\nUpon the crowd; then, like some beast of prey,\nFoot slowly following foot, reluctant turn\u2019d.\nAs when the rustic youths and dogs have driv\u2019n\nA tawny lion from the cattle fold,\nWatching all night, and baulk\u2019d him of his prey;\nRav\u2019ning for flesh, he still th\u2019 attempt renews,\nBut still in vain: for many a jav\u2019lin, hurl\u2019d\nBy vig\u2019rous arms, confronts him to his face,\nAnd blazing faggots, that his courage daunt;\nTill, with the dawn, reluctant he retreat:\nSo from before the Trojans Ajax turn\u2019d,\nReluctant, fearing for the ships of Greece.\nAs near a field of corn, a stubborn ass,\nUpon whose sides had many a club been broke,\nO\u2019erpow\u2019rs his boyish guides, and ent\u2019ring in,\nOn the rich forage grazes; while the boys\nTheir cudgels ply, but vain their puny strength,\nYet drive him out, when fully fed, with ease:\nEv\u2019n so great Ajax, son of Telamon,\nThe valiant Trojans and their fam\u2019d Allies,\nStill thrusting at his shield, before them drove:\nYet would he sometimes, rallying, hold in check\nThe Trojan host; then turn again to flight,\nYet barring still the passage to the ships.\nMidway between the Trojans and the Greeks\nHe stood defiant; many jav\u2019lins, hurl\u2019d\nBy vig\u2019rous arms, were in their flight receiv\u2019d\nOn his broad shield; and many, ere they reach\u2019d\nTheir living mark, fell midway on the plain,\nFix\u2019d in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.\nHim thus, hard press\u2019d by thick-thrown spears, beheld\nEurypylus, Euaemon\u2019s noble son.\nHe hasten\u2019d up, and aim\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear;\nAnd Apisaon, Phausias\u2019 noble son,\nBelow the midriff through the liver struck,\nAnd straight relax\u2019d in sudden death his limbs.\nForth sprang Eurypylus to seize the spoils:\nBut godlike Paris saw, and as he stoop\u2019d\nFrom Apisaon\u2019s corpse to strip his arms,\nAgainst Eurypylus he bent his bow,\nAnd his right thigh transfix\u2019d; the injur\u2019d limb\nDisabling, in the wound the arrow broke.\nHe \u2019mid his friends, escaping death, withdrew,\nAnd to the Greeks with piercing shout he call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nTurn yet again, and from the doom of death\nGreat Ajax save, hard press\u2019d by hostile spears:\nScarce can I hope he may escape with life\nThe desp\u2019rate fight; yet bravely stand, and aid\nThe mighty Ajax, son of Telamon.\u201d\n\nThus spoke the wounded hero: round him they\nWith sloping shields and spears uplifted stood:\nAjax to meet them came; and when he reach\u2019d\nThe friendly ranks, again he turn\u2019d to bay.\nSo rag\u2019d, like blazing fire, the furious fight.\n\nMeanwhile the mares of Neleus, drench\u2019d with sweat,\nBore Nestor and Machaon from the field;\nAchilles saw, and mark\u2019d them where he stood\nUpon his lofty vessel\u2019s prow, and watch\u2019d\nThe grievous toil, the lamentable rout.\nThen on his friend Patroclus from the ship\nHe call\u2019d aloud; he heard his voice, and forth,\nAs Mars majestic, from the tent he came:\n(That day commenc\u2019d his evil destiny)\nAnd thus Menoetius\u2019 noble son began:\n\n\u201cWhy call\u2019st thou me? what wouldst thou, Peleus\u2019 son?\u201d\nTo whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied:\n\u201cSon of Menoetius, dearest to my soul,\nSoon, must the suppliant Greeks before me kneel,\nSo insupportable is now their need.\nBut haste thee now, Patroclus, dear to Jove:\nEnquire of Nestor, from the battle field\nWhom brings he wounded: looking from behind\nMost like he seem\u2019d to \u00c6sculapius\u2019 son,\nMachaon; but his face I could not see,\nSo swiftly past the eager horses flew.\u201d\n\nHe said: obedient to his friend\u2019s command,\nQuick to the tents and ships Patroclus ran.\n\nThey, when they reach\u2019d the tent of Neleus\u2019 son,\nDescended to the ground; Eurymedon\nThe old man\u2019s mares unharness\u2019d from the car,\nWhile on the beach they fac\u2019d the cooling breeze,\nWhich from their garments dried the sweat; then turn\u2019d,\nAnd in the tent on easy seats repos\u2019d.\nFor them the fair-hair\u2019d Hecamede mix\u2019d\nA cordial potion; her from Tenedos,\nWhen by Achilles ta\u2019en, the old man brought;\nDaughter of great Arsinous, whom the Greeks\nOn him, their sagest councillor, bestow\u2019d.\nBefore them first a table fair she spread,\nWell polish\u2019d, and with feet of solid bronze;\nOn this a brazen canister she plac\u2019d,\nAnd onions, as a relish to the wine,\nAnd pale clear honey, and pure barley meal:\nBy these a splendid goblet, which from home\nTh\u2019 old man had brought, with golden studs adorn\u2019d:\nFour were its handles, and round each two doves\nAppear\u2019d to feed; at either end, a cup.\nScarce might another move it from the board,\nWhen full; but aged Nestor rais\u2019d with ease.\nIn this, their goddess-like attendant first\nA gen\u2019rous measure mix\u2019d of Pramnian wine:\nThen with a brazen grater shredded o\u2019er\nThe goatsmilk cheese, and whitest barley meal,\nAnd of the draught compounded bade them drink.\nThey drank, and then, reliev\u2019d the parching thirst,\nWith mutual converse entertain\u2019d the hour.\nBefore the gate divine Patroclus stood:\nThe old man saw, and from his seat arose,\nAnd took him by the hand, and led him in,\nAnd bade him sit; but he, refusing, said:\n\n\u201cNo seat for me, thou venerable sire!\nI must not stay; for he both awe and fear\nCommands, who hither sent me to enquire\nWhat wounded man thou hast; I need not ask,\nI know Machaon well, his people\u2019s guard.\nMy errand done, I must my message bear\nBack to Achilles; and thou know\u2019st thyself,\nThou venerable sire, how stern his mood:\nNay sometimes blames he, where no blame is due.\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cWhence comes Achilles\u2019 pity for the Greeks\nBy Trojan weapons wounded? knows he not\nWhat depth of suff\u2019ring through the camp prevails?\nHow in the ships, by arrow or by spear\nSore wounded, all our best and bravest lie?\nThe valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed,\nPierc\u2019d by a shaft; Ulysses by a spear,\nAnd Agamemnon\u2019s self; Eurypylus\nBy a sharp arrow through the thigh transfix\u2019d;\nAnd here another, whom but now I bring,\nShot by a bow, from off the battle field:\nAchilles, valiant as he is, the while\nFor Grecian woes nor care nor pity feels.\nWaits he, until our ships beside the sea,\nIn our despite, are burnt by hostile fires,\nAnd we be singly slain? not mine is now\nThe strength I boasted once of active limbs.\nO that such youth and vigour yet were mine,\nAs when about a cattle-lifting raid\nWe fought th\u2019 Eleans; there Itymoneus\nI slew, the son of brave Hyperochus,\nWho dwelt in Elis; and my booty drove.\nHe sought to guard the herd; but from my hand\nA jav\u2019lin struck him in the foremost ranks:\nHe fell, and terror seiz\u2019d the rustic crowd.\nAbundant store of plunder from the plain\nWe drove: of horned cattle fifty herds;\nAs many flocks of sheep, as many droves\nOf swine, as many wide-spread herds of goats,\nAnd thrice so many golden-chesnut mares,\nThe foals of many running with their dams.\nTo Pylos, Neleus\u2019 city, these we drove\nBy night; and much it gladden\u2019d Neleus\u2019 heart,\nThat I, though new to war, such prize had won.\nWhen morn appear\u2019d, the clear-voic\u2019d heralds call\u2019d\nFor all to whom from Elis debts were due;\nCollected thus, the Pylians\u2019 leading men\nDivision made: for Elis ow\u2019d us much;\nSuch wrongs we few in Pylos had sustain\u2019d.\nThe might of Hercules in former years\nHad storm\u2019d our town, and all our bravest slain.\nTwelve gallant sons had Neleus; I of these\nAlone was left; the others all were gone.\nWhence over-proud, th\u2019 Epeians treated us\nWith insult, and high-handed violence.\nA herd of oxen now, and num\u2019rous flock\nOf sheep, th\u2019 old man selected for himself,\nThree hundred, with their shepherds; for to him\nLarge compensation was from Elis due.\nTrain\u2019d to the course, four horses, with their cars,\nHe for the Tripod at th\u2019 Elean games\nHad sent to run; these Augeas, King of men,\nDetain\u2019d, and bade the drivers home return,\nBootless, and grieving for their horses\u2019 loss.\nTh\u2019 old man his words resenting, and his acts,\nLarge spoils retain\u2019d; the rest among the crowd\nHe shar\u2019d, that none might lose his portion due.\nThese we dispos\u2019d of soon, and to the Gods\nDue off\u2019rings made; but when the third day rose,\nBack in all haste, in numbers, horse and foot,\nOur foes return\u2019d; with, them the Molion twins,\nYet boys, untutor\u2019d in the arts of war.\nFar off, by Alpheus\u2019 banks, th\u2019 extremest verge\nOf sandy Pylos, is a lofty mound,\nThe city of Thryum; which around, intent\nTo raze its walls, their army was encamp\u2019d.\nThe plain already they had overspread;\nWhen Pallas from Olympus\u2019 heights came down\nIn haste, and bade us all prepare for war.\nOn no unwilling ears her message fell,\nBut eager all for fight; but me, to arm\nNeleus forbade, and e\u2019en my horses hid,\nDeeming me yet unripe for deeds of war.\nYet so, albeit on foot, by Pallas\u2019 grace\nA name I gain\u2019d above our noblest horse.\nThere is a river, Minyis by name,\nHard by Arene, flowing to the sea,\nWhere we, the Pylian horse, expecting morn,\nEncamp\u2019d, by troops of footmen quickly join\u2019d.\nThence in all haste advancing, all in arms,\nWe reach\u2019d, by midday, Alpheus\u2019 sacred stream.\nThere, to o\u2019erruling Jove our off\u2019rings made,\nTo Alpheus and to Neptune each a bull,\nTo Pallas, blue-ey\u2019d Maid, a heifer fair,\nIn order\u2019d ranks we took our ev\u2019ning meal,\nAnd each in arms upon the river\u2019s brink\nLay down to rest; for close beside us lay\nTh\u2019 Epeians, on the town\u2019s destruction bent.\nThen saw they mighty deeds of war display\u2019d;\nFor we, as sunlight overspread the earth,\nTo Jove and Pallas praying, battle gave.\nBut when the Pylians and th\u2019 Epeians met,\nI first a warrior slew, and seiz\u2019d his car,\nBold spearman, Mulius; Augeas\u2019 son-in-law,\nHis eldest daughter\u2019s husband, Agamede,\nThe yellow-hair\u2019d, who all the virtues knew\nOf each medicinal herb the wide world grows.\nHim, with my brass-tipp\u2019d spear, as on he came,\nI slew; he fell; I, rushing to his car,\nStood \u2019mid the foremost ranks; th\u2019 Epeians brave\nFled diverse, when they saw their champion fall,\nChief of their horsemen, foremost in the fight.\nWith the dark whirlwind\u2019s force, I onward rush\u2019d,\nAnd fifty cars I took; two men in each\nFell to my spear, and bit the bloody dust.\nThen Actor\u2019s sons, the Molions, had I slain,\nHad not th\u2019 Earth-shaking God, their mighty sire,\nVeil\u2019d in thick cloud, withdrawn them from the field;\nThen Jove great glory to the Pylians gave.\nFor o\u2019er the wide-spread plain we held pursuit,\nSlaying, and gath\u2019ring up the scatter\u2019d arms,\nNor till corn-clad Buprasium, and the rock\nOlenian, and Alesium, term\u2019d the Mound,\nStay\u2019d we our steeds; there Pallas bade us turn.\nThere the last man I slew, and left; the Greeks\nBack from Buprasium drove their flying cars\nTo Pylos, magnifying all the name,\n\u2019Mid men, of Nestor, as \u2019mid Gods, of Jove.\nSuch once was I \u2019mid men, while yet I was;\nNow to himself alone Achilles keeps\nHis valour; yet hereafter, when the Greeks\nHave perish\u2019d all, remorse shall touch his soul.\nDear friend, remember now th\u2019 injunctions giv\u2019n\nBy old Menoetius, when from Phthian land\nHe sent thee forth to Agamemnon\u2019s aid:\nI, and Laertes\u2019 godlike son, within,\nHeard all his counsel; to the well-built house\nOf Peleus we on embassy had come,\nThroughout Achaia\u2019s fertile lands to raise\nThe means of war; Menoetius there we found,\nAchilles, and thyself within the house;\nWhile in the court-yard aged Peleus slew,\nAnd to the Lord of thunder offer\u2019d up\nA fatten\u2019d steer; and from a golden bowl\nO\u2019er the burnt-off\u2019ring pour\u2019d the ruddy wine.\nWe two, while ye were busied with the flesh,\nStood at the gate; surpris\u2019d, Achilles rose,\nAnd took us by the hand, and bade us sit,\nDispensing all the hospitable rites.\nWith food and wine recruited, I began\nMy speech, and urg\u2019d ye both to join the war:\nNor were ye loth to go; much sage advice\nYour elders gave; old Peleus bade his son\nTo aim at highest honours, and surpass\nHis comrades all; Menoetius, Actor\u2019s son,\nTo thee this counsel gave: \u2018My son,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018Achilles is by birth above thee far;\nThou art in years the elder; he in strength\nSurpasses thee; do thou with prudent words\nAnd timely speech address him, and advise\nAnd guide him; he will, to his good, obey.\u2019\n\n\u201cSuch were the old man\u2019s words; but thou hast let\nHis counsel slip thy mem\u2019ry; yet ev\u2019n now\nSpeak to Achilles thus, and stir his soul,\nIf haply he will hear thee; and who knows\nBut by the grace of Heav\u2019n thou mayst prevail?\nFor great is oft a friend\u2019s persuasive pow\u2019r.\nBut if the fear of evil prophesied,\nOr message by his Goddess-mother brought\nFrom Jove, restrain him, let him send thee forth\nWith all his force of warlike Myrmidons,\nThat thou mayst be the saving light of Greece.\nThen let him bid thee to the battle bear\nHis glitt\u2019ring arms; if so the men of Troy,\nScar\u2019d by his likeness, may forsake the field,\nAnd breathing-time afford the sons of Greece,\nToil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs.\nFresh and unwearied, ye with ease may drive\nTo their own city, from our ships and tents,\nThe Trojans, worn and battle-wearied men.\u201d\n\nThus he; Patroclus\u2019 spirit within him burn\u2019d,\nAnd tow\u2019rd Achilles\u2019 tent in haste he sped.\nBut, running, as Ulysses\u2019 ship he pass\u2019d,\nWhere was the Council and the Justice-seat,\nAnd where were built the altars of the Gods,\nThere met him, halting from the battle-field,\nShot through the thigh, Euaemon\u2019s Heav\u2019n-born son,\nEurypylus; his head and shoulders dank\nWith clammy sweat, while from his grievous wound\nStream\u2019d the dark blood; yet firm was still his soul.\nMenoetius\u2019 noble son with pity saw,\nAnd deeply sorrowing thus address\u2019d the chief:\n\n\u201cWoe for the chiefs and councillors of Greece!\nAnd must ye, far from friends and native home,\nGlut with your flesh the rav\u2019ning dogs of Troy?\nYet tell me this, Heav\u2019n-born Eurypylus;\nStill do the Greeks \u2019gainst Hector\u2019s giant force\nMake head? or fall they, vanquish\u2019d by his spear?\u201d\n\nTo whom with prudent speech, Eurypylus:\n\u201cNo source, Heav\u2019n-born Patroclus, have the Greeks,\nOf aid, but all must perish by their ships:\nFor in the ships lie all our bravest late,\nBy spear or arrow struck, by Trojan hands;\nAnd fiercer, hour by hour, their onset grows.\nBut save me now, and lead me to the ships;\nThere cut the arrow out, and from the wound\nWith tepid water cleanse the clotted blood:\nThen soothing drugs apply, of healing pow\u2019r,\nWhich from Achilles, thou, \u2019tis said, hast learn\u2019d,\nFrom Chiron, justest of the Centaurs, he.\nFor Podalirius and Machaon both,\nOur leeches, one lies wounded in the tents,\nHimself requiring sore the leech\u2019s aid;\nThe other on the plain still dares the fight.\u201d\n\nTo whom again Menoetius\u2019 noble son:\n\u201cHow may this be? say, brave Eurypylus,\nWhat must I do? a messenger am I,\nSent by Gerenian Nestor, prop of Greece,\nWith tidings to Achilles; yet ev\u2019n so\nI will not leave thee in this weary plight.\u201d\n\nHe said, and passing his supporting hand\nBeneath his breast, the wounded warrior led\nWithin the tent; th\u2019 attendant saw, and spread\nThe ox-hide couch; then as he lay reclin\u2019d,\nPatroclus, with his dagger, from the thigh\nCut out the biting shaft; and from the wound\nWith tepid water cleans\u2019d the clotted blood;\nThen, pounded in his hands, a root applied\nAstringent, anodyne, which all his pain\nAllay\u2019d; the wound was dried, and stanch\u2019d the blood.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE BATTLE AT THE GRECIAN WALL.\n\n\nThe Greeks having retired into their entrenchments, Hector attempts to\nforce them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas\nadvises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The\nTrojans follow his counsel, and having divided their army into five\nbodies of foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of an eagle with\na serpent in his talons, which appeared on the left hand of the\nTrojans, Polydamas endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector\nopposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many actions,\nSarpedon makes the first breach in the wall: Hector also, casting a\nstone of a vast size, forces open one of the gates, and enters at the\nhead of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their\nships.\n\nBOOK XII.\n\nThus o\u2019er the wounded chief Eurypylus\nWatch\u2019d in his tent Menoetius\u2019 noble son;\nBut hand to hand the Greeks and Trojans fought;\nNor longer might the ditch th\u2019 assault repel,\nNor the broad wall above, which Greeks had built,\nTo guard their ships, and round it dug the ditch;\nBut to the Gods no hecatombs had paid,\nThat they the ships and all the stores within\nMight safely keep; against the will of Heav\u2019n\nThe work was done, and thence not long endur\u2019d.\nWhile Hector liv\u2019d, and Peleus\u2019 son his wrath\nRetain\u2019d, and Priam\u2019s city untaken stood;\nSo long the Grecian wall remain\u2019d entire:\nBut of the Trojans when the best had fall\u2019n,\nOf Greeks, when some were slain, some yet surviv\u2019d;\nWhen the tenth year had seen the fall of Troy,\nAnd Greeks, embark\u2019d, had ta\u2019en their homeward way,\nThen Neptune and Apollo counsel took\nTo sap the wall by aid of all the streams\nThat seaward from the heights of Ida flow;\nRhesus, Caresus, and Heptaporus,\nGranicus, and \u00c6sepus, Rhodius,\nScamander\u2019s stream divine, and Simois,\nWhere helms and shields lay buried in the sand,\nAnd a whole race of warrior demigods:\nThese all Apollo to one channel turn\u2019d;\nNine days against the wall the torrent beat;\nAnd Jove sent rain continuous, that the wall\nMight sooner be submerg\u2019d; while Neptune\u2019s self,\nHis trident in his hand, led on the stream,\nWashing away the deep foundations, laid,\nLaborious, by the Greeks, with logs and stones,\nNow by fast-flowing Hellespont dispers\u2019d.\nThe wall destroy\u2019d, o\u2019er all the shore he spread\nA sandy drift; and bade the streams return\nTo where of old their silver waters flow\u2019d.\nSuch were, in future days, to be the works\nOf Neptune and Apollo; but meanwhile\nFierce rag\u2019d the battle round the firm-built wall,\nAnd frequent clatter\u2019d on the turrets\u2019 beams\nThe hostile missiles: by the scourge of Jove\nSubdued, the Greeks beside their ships were hemm\u2019d,\nBy Hector scar\u2019d, fell minister of Dread,\nWho with the whirlwind\u2019s force, as ever, fought.\nAs when, by dogs and hunters circled round,\nA boar, or lion, in his pride of strength,\nTurns on his foes, while they in close array\nStand opposite, and frequent shoot their darts;\nNor yet his spirit quails, but firm he stands\nWith suicidal courage; swift he turns,\nWhere best to break the circling ranks; where\u2019er\nHe makes his rush, the circling ranks give way:\nSo Hector, here and there, amid the crowd,\nUrg\u2019d his companions on to cross the ditch:\nThe fiery steeds shrank back, and, snorting, stood\nUpon the topmost brink; for the wide ditch\nWithheld them, easy nor to leap nor cross:\nFor steep arose on either side the banks,\nAnd at the top with sharpen\u2019d stakes were crown\u2019d,\nThick-set and strong, which there the sons of Greece\nHad planted, to repel th\u2019 invading foes.\nScarce might a horse, with well-wheel\u2019d car attach\u2019d,\nEssay the passage; but on foot they burn\u2019d\nTo make th\u2019 attempt; and thus Polydamas,\nApproaching near, to valiant Hector spoke:\n\n\u201cHector, and all ye other chiefs of Troy,\nAnd brave Allies, in vain we seek to drive\nOur horses o\u2019er the ditch; \u2019tis hard to cross;\n\u2019Tis crown\u2019d with pointed stakes, and them behind\nIs built the Grecian wall; there to descend\nAnd from our cars in narrow space to fight\nWere certain ruin. If it be indeed\nThe will of Jove, high-thund\u2019ring, to confound\nThe Greeks in utter rout, and us to aid,\nI should rejoice that ev\u2019ry Greek forthwith\nFar from his home should fill a nameless grave;\nBut should they turn, and we again be driv\u2019n\nBack from the ships, and hurried down the ditch,\nSuch were our loss, that scarce a messenger\nWould live to bear the tidings to the town\nOf our destruction by the rallied Greeks.\nHear then my counsel; let us all agree\nWith our attendants here upon the bank\nTo leave our horses; and ourselves on foot,\nAll arm\u2019d, press on where Hector leads; the Greeks,\nIf that their doom be nigh, will make no stand.\u201d\n\nThus spoke Polydamas; his counsel pleas\u2019d;\nAnd Hector sprang, in arms, from off his car;\nNor long, the noble Hector when they saw,\nDelay\u2019d the other chiefs; then gave command\nEach to his own attendant, by the ditch\nTo keep the chariots all in due array;\nThen parting, form\u2019d in order of attack,\nIn five divisions, with their sev\u2019ral chiefs.\nRound Hector throng\u2019d, and bold Polydamas,\nThe best and bravest; they who long\u2019d the most\nTo storm the wall, and fight beside the ships.\nWith them Cebriones; for Hector left,\nTo guard the horses, one of lesser note.\nThe next division was by Paris led,\nAgenor, and Alcathous; the third\nBy Helenus, and brave Deiphobus,\nTwo sons of Priam; Asius was the third,\nAsius, the son of Hyrtacus; who brought\nHis tow\u2019ring fiery steeds from Selles\u2019 stream,\nHard by Arisba; stout \u00c6neas led\nThe fourth, Anchises\u2019 son, Archilochus\nWith him, and Acamas, Antenor\u2019s sons;\nBoth skill\u2019d alike in ev\u2019ry point of war.\nOf the far-fam\u2019d Allies, Sarpedon held\nThe chief command; and for his comrades chose\nAsteropaeus, and the warlike might\nOf Glaucus; these o\u2019er all the rest he held\nPre-eminent in valour, save himself,\nWho o\u2019er them all superior stood confess\u2019d.\nThese, interlac\u2019d their shields of tough bull\u2019s-hide,\nWith eager step advanc\u2019d, and deem\u2019d the Greeks\nWould, unresisting, fall before their ships.\nThe other Trojans and renown\u2019d Allies\nThe words of wise Polydamas obey\u2019d:\nBut Asius, son of Hyrtacus, refus\u2019d\nHis horses and his charioteer to leave,\nWith them advancing to assail the ships.\nBlind fool, unconscious! from before those ships,\nEscap\u2019d from death, with horses and with car\nTriumphant, to the breezy heights of Troy\nHe never shall return; ill-omen\u2019d fate\nO\u2019ershadowing, dooms him by the spear to fall\nOf brave Idomeneus, Deucalion\u2019s son.\nHe tow\u2019rd the left inclin\u2019d, what way the Greeks\nWith horse and chariot from the plain return\u2019d.\nThat way he drove his horses; and the gates\nUnguarded found by bolt or massive bar.\nTheir warders held them open\u2019d wide, to save\nPerchance some comrade, flying from the plain.\nThither he bent his course; with clamours loud\nFollow\u2019d his troops; nor deem\u2019d they that the Greeks\nWould hold their ground, but fall amid their ships.\nLittle they knew; before the gates they found\nTwo men, two warriors of the prime, two sons\nIllustrious of the spear-skill\u2019d Lapithae:\nStout Polypoetes one, Pirithous\u2019 son,\nWith whom Leonteus, bold as blood-stain\u2019d Mars:\nSo stood these two before the lofty gates,\nAs on the mountain side two tow\u2019ring oaks,\nWhich many a day have borne the wind and storm,\nFirm rifted by their strong continuous roots:\nSo in their arms and vigour confident\nThose two great Asius\u2019 charge, undaunted, met.\nOn th\u2019 other side, with, shouts and wild uproar,\nTheir bull\u2019s-hide shields uplifted high, advanc\u2019d\nAgainst the well-built wall, Asius the King,\nIamenus, Orestes, Acamas\nThe son of Asius, and \u0152nomaus,\nAnd Thoon; those within to save the ships\nCalling meanwhile on all the well-greav\u2019d Greeks;\nBut when they saw the wall by Trojans scal\u2019d,\nAnd heard the cry of Greeks in panic fear,\nSprang forth those two, before the gates to fight.\nAs when two boars, upon the mountain side,\nAwait th\u2019 approaching din of men and dogs,\nThen sideways rushing, snap the wood around,\nRipp\u2019d from the roots; loud clash their clatt\u2019ring tusks,\nTill to the huntsman\u2019s spear they yield their lives;\nSo clatter\u2019d on those champions\u2019 brass-clad breasts\nThe hostile weapons; stubbornly they fought,\nRelying on their strength, and friends above:\nFor from the well-built tow\u2019rs huge stones were hurl\u2019d\nBy those who for themselves, their tents and ships,\nMaintain\u2019d defensive warfare; thick they fell,\nAs wintry snow-flakes, which the boist\u2019rous wind,\nDriving the shadowy clouds, spreads fast and close\nO\u2019er all the surface of the fertile earth:\nSo thick, from Grecian and from Trojan hands,\nThe weapons flew; on helm and bossy shield\nWith grating sound the pond\u2019rous masses rang.\nThen deeply groaning, as he smote his thigh\nThus spoke dismay\u2019d the son of Hyrtacus:\n\u201cO Father Jove, how hast thou lov\u2019d our hopes\nTo falsify, who deem\u2019d not that the Greeks\nWould stand our onset, and resistless arms!\nBut they, as yellow-banded wasps, or bees,\nThat by some rocky pass have built their nests,\nAbandon not their cavern\u2019d home, but wait\nTh\u2019 attack, and boldly for their offspring fight;\nSo from the gates these two, though two alone,\nRetire not, till they be or ta\u2019en or slain.\u201d\n\nHe said: but Jove regarded not his words;\nSo much on Hector\u2019s triumph he was bent.\nLike battle rag\u2019d round th\u2019 other gates; but hard\nIt were for me, with godlike pow\u2019r, to paint\nEach sev\u2019ral combat; for around the wall\nA more than human storm of stone was pour\u2019d\nOn ev\u2019ry side; the Greeks, hard press\u2019d, perforce\nFought for their ships, while all the Gods look\u2019d on\nIndignant, who the Grecian cause upheld.\nFiercely the Lapithae sustain\u2019d the war:\nStout Polypoetes first, Pirithous\u2019 son,\nSmote, through the brass-cheek\u2019d helmet, Damasus;\nNor stay\u2019d the brazen helm the spear, whose point\nWent crashing through the bone, that all the brain\nWas shatter\u2019d; onward as he rush\u2019d, he fell.\nThen Pylon next, and Ormenus he slew:\nMeantime Leonteus, scion true of Mars,\nStruck with unerring spear Hippomachus,\nSon of Antimachus, below the waist;\nThen, drawing from the sheath his trenchant sword,\nDash\u2019d through the crowd, and hand to hand he smote\nAntiphates; he, backward, fell to earth.\nMenon, Iamenus, Orestes next,\nIn quick succession to the ground he brought.\nFrom these while they their glitt\u2019ring armour stripp\u2019d,\nRound Hector throng\u2019d, and bold Polydamas,\nThe bravest and the best, who long\u2019d the most\nTo storm the wall, and burn with fire the ships.\nYet on the margin of the ditch they paus\u2019d;\nFor, as they sought to cross, a sign from Heav\u2019n\nAppear\u2019d, to leftward of th\u2019 astonish\u2019d crowd;\nA soaring eagle in his talons bore\nA dragon, huge of size, of blood-red hue,\nAlive, and breathing still, nor yet subdued;\nFor twisting backward through the breast he pierc\u2019d\nHis bearer, near the neck; he, stung with pain,\nLet fall his prey, which dropp\u2019d amid the crowd;\nThen screaming, on the blast was borne away.\nThe Trojans, shudd\u2019ring, in their midst beheld\nThe spotted serpent, dire portent of Jove:\nThen to bold Hector thus Polydamas:\n\u201cHector, in council thou reprov\u2019st me oft\nFor good advice; it is not meet, thou say\u2019st,\nThat private men should talk beside the mark,\nIn council or in war, but study still\nThine honour to exalt; yet must I now\nDeclare what seems to me the wisest course:\nLet us not fight the Greeks beside their ships;\nFor thus I read the future, if indeed\nTo us, about to cross, this sign from Heav\u2019n\nWas sent, to leftward of th\u2019 astonish\u2019d crowd:\nA soaring eagle, bearing in his claws\nA dragon, huge of size, of blood-red hue,\nAlive; yet dropp\u2019d him ere he reach\u2019d his home,\nNor to his nestlings bore th\u2019 intended prey:\nSo we, e\u2019en though our mighty strength should break\nThe gates and wall, and put the Greeks to rout,\nBy the same road not scatheless should return,\nBut many a Trojan on the field should leave,\nSlain by the Greeks, while they their ships defend.\nSo would a seer, well vers\u2019d in augury,\nWorthy of public credit, read this sign.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm\nReplied, with stern regard: \u201cPolydamas,\nThis speech of thine is alien to my soul:\nThy better judgment better counsel knows.\nBut if in earnest such is thine advice,\nThee of thy senses have the Gods bereft,\nWho fain wouldst have us disregard the word\nAnd promise by the nod of Jove confirm\u2019d,\nAnd put our faith in birds\u2019 expanded wings;\nLittle of these I reck, nor care to look,\nIf to the right, and tow\u2019rd the morning sun,\nOr to the left, and shades of night, they fly.\nPut we our trust in Jove\u2019s eternal will,\nOf mortals and Immortals King supreme.\nThe best of omens is our country\u2019s cause.\nWhy shouldst thou tremble at the battle strife?\nThough ev\u2019ry Trojan else were doom\u2019d to die\nBeside the ships, no fear lest thou shouldst fall:\nUnwarlike is thy soul, nor firm of mood:\nBut if thou shrink, or by thy craven words\nTurn back another Trojan from the fight,\nMy spear shall take the forfeit of thy life.\u201d\n\nThis said, he led the way; with joyous shouts\nThey follow\u2019d all; then Jove, the lightning\u2019s Lord,\nFrom Ida\u2019s heights a storm of wind sent down,\nDriving the dust against the Grecian ships;\nWhich quell\u2019d their courage, and to Hector gave,\nAnd to the Trojans, fresh incitement; they,\nOn their own strength, and heav\u2019nly signs relying,\nTheir force address\u2019d to storm the Grecian wall.\nThey raz\u2019d the counterscarp, the battlements\nDestroy\u2019d; and the projecting buttresses,\nWhich, to sustain the tow\u2019rs, the Greeks had fix\u2019d\nDeep in the soil, with levers undermin\u2019d.\nThese once withdrawn, they hop\u2019d to storm the wall;\nNor from the passage yet the Greeks withdrew,\nBut closely fencing with their bull\u2019s-hide shields\nThe broken battlements, they thence hurl\u2019d down\nA storm of weapons on the foe beneath.\nCommanding from the tow\u2019r in ev\u2019ry place\nWere seen th\u2019 Ajaces, urging to the fight,\nImploring these, and those in sterner tones\nRebuking, who their warlike toil relax\u2019d.\n\n\u201cFriends, Grecians all, ye who excel in war,\nAnd ye of mod\u2019rate or inferior strength,\nThough all are not with equal pow\u2019rs endued,\nYet here is work for all! bear this in mind,\nNor tow\u2019rd the ships let any turn his face,\nBy threats dismay\u2019d; but forward press, and each\nEncourage each, if so the lightning\u2019s Lord,\nOlympian Jove, may grant us to repel,\nAnd backward to his city chase the foe.\u201d\n\nThus they, with cheering words, sustain\u2019d the war:\nThick as the snow-flakes on a wintry day,\nWhen Jove, the Lord of counsel, down on men\nHis snow-storm sends, and manifests his pow\u2019r:\nHush\u2019d are the winds; the flakes continuous fall,\nThat the high mountain tops, and jutting crags,\nAnd lotus-cover\u2019d meads are buried deep,\nAnd man\u2019s productive labours of the field;\nOn hoary Ocean\u2019s beach and bays they lie,\nTh\u2019 approaching waves their bound; o\u2019er all beside\nIs spread by Jove the heavy veil of snow.\nSo thickly new the stones from either side,\nBy Greeks on Trojans hurl\u2019d, by these on Greeks;\nAnd clatter\u2019d loud through all its length the wall.\nNor yet the Trojans, though by Hector led,\nThe gates had broken, and the massive bar,\nBut Jove against the Greeks sent forth his son\nSarpedon, as a lion on a herd:\nHis shield\u2019s broad orb before his breast he bore,\nWell-wrought, of beaten brass, which th\u2019 arm\u2019rer\u2019s hand\nHad beaten out, and lin\u2019d with stout bull\u2019s-hide;\nWith golden rods, continuous, all around;\nHe thus equipp\u2019d, two jav\u2019lins brandishing,\nStrode onward, as a lion, mountain-bred,\nWhom, fasting long, his dauntless courage leads\nTo assail the flock, though in well-guarded fold;\nAnd though the shepherds there he find, prepar\u2019d\nWith dogs and lances to protect the sheep,\nNot unattempted will he leave the fold;\nBut, springing to the midst, he bears his prey\nIn triumph thence; or in the onset falls,\nWounded by jav\u2019lins hurl\u2019d by stalwart hands:\nSo, prompted by his godlike courage, burn\u2019d\nSarpedon to assail the lofty wall,\nAnd storm the ramparts; and to Glaucus thus,\nSon of Hippolochus, his speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhence is it, Glaucus, that in Lycian land\nWe two at feasts the foremost seats may claim,\nThe largest portions, and the fullest cups?\nWhy held as Gods in honour? why endow\u2019d\nWith ample heritage, by Xanthus\u2019 banks,\nOf vineyard, and of wheat producing land?\nThen by the Lycians should we not be seen\nThe foremost to affront the raging fight?\nSo may our well-arm\u2019d Lycians make their boast;\n\u2018To no inglorious Kings we Lycians owe\nAllegiance; they on richest viands feed;\nOf luscious flavour drink the choicest wine;\nBut still their valour brightest shows; and they,\nWhere Lycians war, are foremost in the fight!\u2019\nO friend! if we, survivors of this war,\nCould live, from age and death for ever free,\nThou shouldst not see me foremost in the fight,\nNor would I urge thee to the glorious field:\nBut since on man ten thousand forms of death\nAttend, which none may \u2019scape, then on, that we\nMay glory on others gain, or they on us!\u201d\n\nThus he; nor Glaucus from his bidding shrank;\nAnd forward straight they led the Lycian pow\u2019rs.\nMenestheus, son of Peteus, with dismay\nObserv\u2019d their movement; for on his command,\nInspiring terror, their attack was made.\nHe look\u2019d around him to the Grecian tow\u2019rs,\nIf any chief might there be found, to save\nHis comrades from destruction; there he saw,\nOf war insatiable, th\u2019 Ajaces twain;\nAnd Teucer, from the tent but newly come,\nHard by; nor yet could reach them with his voice;\nSuch was the din, such tumult rose to Heav\u2019n,\nFrom clatt\u2019ring shields, and horsehair-crested helms,\nAnd batter\u2019d gates, now all at once assail\u2019d:\nBefore them fiercely strove th\u2019 assaulting bands\nTo break their way: he then Thootes sent,\nHis herald, to th\u2019 Ajaces, craving aid.\n\n\u201cHaste thee, Thootes, on th\u2019 Ajaces call,\nBoth, if it may be; so we best may hope\nTo \u2019scape the death, which else is near at hand;\nSo fierce the pressure of the Lycian chiefs,\nUndaunted now, as ever, in the fight.\nBut if they too are hardly press\u2019d, at least\nLet Ajax, son of Telamon, be spar\u2019d,\nAnd with him Teucer, skilled to draw the bow.\u201d\nHe said; the herald heard, and straight obey\u2019d;\nAlong the wall, where stood the brass-clad Greeks,\nHe ran, and standing near th\u2019 Ajaces, said:\n\n\u201cAjaces, leaders of the brass-clad Greeks,\nThe son of Heav\u2019n-born Peteus craves your aid.\nTo share awhile the labours of his guard;\nBoth, if it may be; so he best may hope\nTo \u2019scape the death, which else is near at hand:\nSo fierce the pressure of the Lycian chiefs,\nUndaunted now, as ever, in the fight.\nBut if ye too are hardly press\u2019d, at least\nLet Ajax, son of Telamon, be spar\u2019d,\nAnd with him Teucer, skill\u2019d to draw the bow.\u201d\n\nHe said: the mighty son of Telamon\nConsenting, thus addresss\u2019d Oileus\u2019 son:\n\u201cAjax, do thou and valiant Lyeomede\nExhort the Greeks the struggle to maintain;\nWhile I go yonder, to affront the war,\nTo aid their need, and back return in haste.\u201d\n\nThus saying, Ajax Telamon set forth,\nAnd with him Teucer went, his father\u2019s son,\nWhile by Pandion Teucer\u2019s bow was borne.\nAt brave Menestheus\u2019 tow\u2019r, within the wall,\nArriv\u2019d, sore press\u2019d they found the garrison;\nFor like a whirlwind on the ramparts pour\u2019d\nThe Lycians\u2019 valiant councillors and chiefs.\nThey quickly join\u2019d the fray, and loud arose\nThe battle-cry; first Ajax Telamon\nSarpedon\u2019s comrade, brave Epicles, slew,\nStruck by a rugged stone, within the wall\nWhich lay, the topmost of the parapet,\nOf size prodigious; which with both his hands\nA man in youth\u2019s full vigour scarce could raise,\nAs men are now; he lifted it on high,\nAnd downward hurl\u2019d; the four-peak\u2019d helm it broke,\nCrushing the bone, and shatt\u2019ring all the skull;\nHe, like a diver, from the lofty tow\u2019r\nFell headlong down, and life forsook his bones,\nTeucer, meanwhile, from off the lofty wall\nThe valiant Glaucus, pressing to the fight,\nStruck with an arrow, where he saw his arm\nUnguarded; he no longer brook\u2019d the fray;\nBack from the wall he sprang, in hopes to hide\nFrom Grecian eyes his wound, that none might see,\nAnd triumph o\u2019er him with insulting words.\nWith grief Sarpedon saw his friend withdraw,\nYet not relax\u2019d his efforts; Thestor\u2019s son,\nAlcmaon, with his spear he stabb\u2019d, and back\nThe weapon drew; he, following, prostrate fell,\nAnd loudly rang his arms of polish\u2019d brass.\nThen at the parapet, with stalwart hand,\nSarpedon tugg\u2019d; and yielding to his force\nDown fell the block entire; the wall laid bare,\nTo many at once the breach gave open way.\nAjax and Teucer him at once assail\u2019d;\nThis with an arrow struck the glitt\u2019ring belt\nAround his breast, whence hung his pond\u2019rous shield;\nBut Jove, who will\u2019d not that his son should fall\nBefore the ships, the weapon turn\u2019d aside.\nThen forward Ajax sprang, and with his spear\nThrust at the shield; the weapon pass\u2019d not through,\nYet check\u2019d his bold advance; a little space\nBack he recoil\u2019d, but not the more withdrew,\nHis soul on glory intent; and rallying quick,\nThus to the warlike Lycians shouted loud:\n\n\u201cWhy, Lycians, thus your wonted might relax?\n\u2019Tis hard for one alone, how brave soe\u2019er,\nE\u2019en though he break the rampart down, to force\nA passage to the ships; but on with me!\nFor work is here for many hands to do.\u201d\n\nHe said; and by the King\u2019s rebuke abash\u2019d,\nWith fiercer zeal the Lycians press\u2019d around\nTheir King and councillor; on th\u2019 other side\nWithin the wall the Greeks their squadrons mass\u2019d;\nThen were great deeds achiev\u2019d; nor thro\u2019 the breach\nCould the brave troops of Lycia to the ships\nTheir passage force; nor could the warrior Greeks\nRepel the Lycians from the ground, where they,\nBefore the wall, had made their footing good.\nAs when two neighbours, in a common field,\nEach line in hand, within a narrow space,\nAbout the limits of their land contend;\nBetween them thus the rampart drew the line;\nO\u2019er which the full-orb\u2019d shields of tough bull\u2019s-hide,\nAnd lighter bucklers on the warriors\u2019 breasts\nOn either side they clove; and many a wound\nThe pitiless weapons dealt, on some who, turn\u2019d,\nTheir neck and back laid bare; on many more,\nWho full in front, and through their shields were struck.\nOn ev\u2019ry side the parapet and tow\u2019rs\nWith Greek and Trojan blood were spatter\u2019d o\u2019er.\nNor yet, e\u2019en so, the Greeks to flight were driv\u2019n;\nBut as a woman that for wages spins,\nHonest and true, with wool and weights in hand,\nIn even balance holds the scales, to mete\nHer humble hire, her children\u2019s maintenance;\nSo even hung the balance of the war,\nTill Jove with highest honour Hector crown\u2019d,\nThe son of Priam; he, the foremost, scal\u2019d\nThe wall, and loudly on the Trojans call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cOn, valiant Trojans, on! the Grecian wall\nBreak down, and wrap their ships in blazing fires.\u201d\n\nThus he, exhorting, spoke; they heard him all,\nAnd to the wall rush\u2019d numberless, and swarm\u2019d\nUpon the ramparts, bristling thick with spears.\nThen Hector, stooping, seiz\u2019d a pond\u2019rous stone\nThat lay before the gates; \u2019twas broad below,\nBut sharp above; and scarce two lab\u2019ring men,\nThe strongest, from the ground could raise it up,\nAnd load upon a wain; as men are now;\nBut he unaided lifted it with ease,\nSo light it seem\u2019d, by grace of Saturn\u2019s son.\nAs in one hand a shepherd bears with ease\nA full-siz\u2019d fleece, and scarcely feels the weight;\nSo Hector tow\u2019rd the portals bore the stone,\nWhich clos\u2019d the lofty double-folding gates,\nWithin defended by two massive bars\nLaid crosswise, and with one cross bolt secur\u2019d.\nClose to the gate he stood; and planting firm\nHis foot, to give his arm its utmost pow\u2019r,\nFull on the middle dash\u2019d the mighty mass.\nThe hinges both gave way; the pond\u2019rous stone\nFell inwards; widely gap\u2019d the op\u2019ning gates;\nNor might the bars within the blow sustain:\nThis way and that the sever\u2019d portals flew\nBefore the crashing missile; dark as night\nHis low\u2019ring brow, great Hector sprang within;\nBright flash\u2019d the brazen armour on his breast,\nAs through the gates, two jav\u2019lins in his hand,\nHe sprang; the Gods except, no pow\u2019r might meet\nThat onset; blaz\u2019d his eyes with lurid fire.\nThen to the Trojans, turning to the throng,\nHe call\u2019d aloud to scale the lofty wall;\nThey heard, and straight obey\u2019d; some scal\u2019d the wall:\nSome through the strong-built gates continuous pour\u2019d;\nWhile in confusion irretrievable\nFled to their ships the panic-stricken Greeks.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE FOURTH BATTLE CONTINUED, IN WHICH NEPTUNE ASSISTS THE GREEKS. THE\nACTS OF IDOMENEUS.\n\n\nNeptune, concerned for the loss of the Grecians, upon seeing the\nfortification forced by Hector (who had entered the gate near the\nstation of the Ajaces), assumes the shape of Calchas, and inspires\nthose heroes to oppose him; then, in the form of one of the generals,\nencourages the other Greeks who had retired to their vessels. The\nAjaces form their troops into a close phalanx, and put a stop to Hector\nand the Trojans. Several deeds of valour are performed; Meriones,\nlosing his spear in the encounter, repairs to seek another at the tent\nof Idomeneus; this occasions a conversation between these two warriors,\nwho return together to the battle. Idomeneus signalizes his courage\nabove the rest; he kills Othryoneus, Asius, and Alcathous; Deiphobus\nand \u00c6neas march against him, and at length Idomeneus retires. Menelaus\nwounds Helenus and kills Peisander. The Trojans are repulsed in the\nleft wing. Hector still keeps his ground against the Ajaces, till,\nbeing galled by the Locrian slingers and archers, Polydamas advises to\ncall a council of war: Hector approves his advice, but goes first to\nrally the Trojans; upbraids Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again,\nand renews the attack.\n\nThe eight-and-twentieth day still continues. The scene is between the\nGrecian wall and the sea-shore.\n\nBOOK XIII.\n\nWhen Jove had Hector and the Trojans brought\nClose to the ships, he left them there to toil\nAnd strife continuous; turning his keen glance\nTo view far off th\u2019 equestrian tribes of Thrace,\nThe warlike Mysians, and the men who feed\nOn milk of mares, thence Hippemolgi term\u2019d;\nA peaceful race, the justest of mankind.\nOn Troy he turn\u2019d not once his piercing glance;\nNor deem\u2019d he any God would dare to give\nTo Trojans or to Greeks his active aid.\n\nNo careless watch the monarch Neptune kept:\nWond\u2019ring, he view\u2019d the battle, where he sat\nAloft on wooded Samos\u2019 topmost peak,\nSamos of Thrace; whence Ida\u2019s heights he saw,\nAnd Priam\u2019s city, and the ships of Greece.\n\nThither ascended from the sea, he sat;\nAnd thence the Greeks, by Trojans overborne,\nPitying he saw, and deeply wroth with Jove.\nThen down the mountain\u2019s craggy side he pass\u2019d\nWith rapid step; and as he mov\u2019d along,\nBeneath th\u2019 immortal feet of Ocean\u2019s Lord\nQuak\u2019d the huge mountain and the shadowy wood.\nThree strides he took; the fourth, he reach\u2019d his goal,\n\u00c6gae; where on the margin of the bay\nHis temple stood, all glitt\u2019ring, all of gold,\nImperishable; there arriv\u2019d, he yok\u2019d\nBeneath his car the brazen-footed steeds,\nOf swiftest flight, with manes of flowing gold.\nAll clad in gold, the golden lash he grasp\u2019d\nOf curious work, and mounting on his car,\nSkimm\u2019d o\u2019er the waves; from all the depths below\nGamboll\u2019d around the monsters of the deep,\nAcknowledging their King; the joyous sea\nParted her waves; swift flew the bounding steeds,\nNor was the brazen axle wet with spray,\nWhen to the ships of Greece their Lord they bore.\n\nDown in the deep recesses of the sea\nA spacious cave there is, which lies midway\n\u2019Twixt Tenedos and Imbros\u2019 rocky isle:\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaking Neptune there his coursers stay\u2019d,\nLoos\u2019d from the chariot, and before them plac\u2019d\nAmbrosial provender; and round their feet\nShackles of gold, which none might break nor loose,\nThat there they might await their Lord\u2019s return;\nThen to the Grecian army took his way.\n\nMeantime, by Hector, son of Priam, led,\nLike fire, or whirlwind, press\u2019d the Trojans on,\nWith furious zeal, and shouts and clamour hoarse;\nIn hopes to take the ships, and all the chiefs\nTo slay beside them; but from Ocean\u2019s depths\nUprose th\u2019 Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth,\nTo Calchas\u2019 likeness and deep voice conform\u2019d,\nAnd rous\u2019d the fainting Greeks; th\u2019 Ajaces first,\nThemselves with ardour fill\u2019d, he thus address\u2019d:\n\u201c\u2019Tis yours, Ajaces, fill\u2019d with courage high,\nDiscarding chilly fear, to save the Greeks:\nElsewhere I dread not much the Trojan force,\nThough they in crowds have scal\u2019d the lofty wall;\nThe well-greav\u2019d Greeks their onset may defy.\nYet greatly fear I lest we suffer loss,\nWhere that fierce, fiery madman, Hector, leads.\nWho boasts himself the son of Jove most high.\nBut may some God your hearts inspire, yourselves\nFirmly to stand, and cheer your comrades on;\nSo from your swiftly-sailing ships ye yet\nMay drive the foe, how bold soe\u2019er he be,\nThough by Olympian Jove himself upheld.\u201d\n\nSo spake th\u2019 Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth,\nAnd with his sceptre touching both the chiefs,\nFill\u2019d them with strength and courage, and their limbs,\nTheir feet and hands, with active vigour strung;\nThen like a swift-wing\u2019d falcon sprang to flight,\nWhich down the sheer face of some lofty rock\nSwoops on the plain to seize his feather\u2019d prey:\nSo swiftly Neptune left the chiefs; him first\nDeparting, knew Oileus\u2019 active son,\nAnd thus the son of Telamon address\u2019d:\n\u201cAjax, since some one of th\u2019 Olympian Gods,\nIn likeness of a seer, hath hither come\nTo urge us to the war (no Calchas he,\nOur augur Heav\u2019n-inspir\u2019d; for well I mark\u2019d\nHis movements, as he went; and of a God\n\u2019Tis easy to discern the outward signs),\nI feel fresh spirit kindled in my breast,\nAnd new-born vigour in my feet and hands.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the son of Telamon:\n\u201cMy hands too grasp with firmer hold the spear,\nMy spirit like thine is stirr\u2019d; I feel my feet\nInstinct with fiery life; nor should I fear\nWith Hector, son of Priam, in his might\nAlone to meet, and grapple to the death.\u201d\n\nSuch was their mutual converse, as they joy\u2019d\nIn the fierce transport by the God inspir\u2019d.\nNeptune, meanwhile, the other Greeks arous\u2019d,\nWho, to the ships withdrawn, their wasted strength\nRecruited; for their limbs were faint with toil,\nAnd grief was in their hearts, as they beheld\nThe Trojan hosts that scal\u2019d the lofty wall;\nThey saw, and from their eyes the teardrops fell,\nOf safety desp\u2019rate; but th\u2019 Earth-shaking God\nAmid their ranks appearing, soon restor\u2019d\nTheir firm array; to Teucer first he came,\nTo Leitus, and valiant Peneleus,\nThoas, Deipyrus, Meriones,\nAnd young Antilochus, brave warriors all,\nAnd to the chiefs his winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cShame on ye, Grecian youths! to you I look\u2019d\nAs to our ships\u2019 defenders; but if ye\nShrink from the perilous battle, then indeed\nOur day is come, to be by Troy subdu\u2019d.\nO Heav\u2019n! a sad and wondrous sight is this,\nA sight I never deem\u2019d my eyes should see,\nOur ships assail\u2019d by Trojan troops; by those\nWho heretofore have been as tim\u2019rous hinds\nAmid the forest depths, the helpless prey\nOf jackals, pards, and wolves; they here and there,\nUncertain, heartless, unresisting, fly:\nSuch were the Trojans once; nor dar\u2019d abide,\nNo, not an hour, the strength and arms of Greece;\nAnd these are they, who now beside our ships,\nFar from their city walls, maintain the fight,\nEmbolden\u2019d by our great commander\u2019s fault,\nAnd slackness of the people, who, with him\nOffended, scarce are brought to guard our ships.\nAnd, feebly fighting, are beside them slain.\nE\u2019en though the mighty monarch, Atreus\u2019 son,\nWide-ruling Agamemnon, be in truth\nWholly to blame in this, that he hath wrong\u2019d\nThe son of Peleus, yet \u2019tis not for us\nOur courage to relax. Arouse ye then!\nA brave man\u2019s spirit its vigour soon regains.\nThat ye, the best and bravest of the host,\nShould stand aloof thus idly, \u2019tis not well;\nIf meaner men should from the battle shrink,\nI might not blame them; but that such as ye\nShould falter, indignation fills my soul.\nDear friends, from this remissness must accrue\nYet greater evils; but with gen\u2019rous shame\nAnd keen remorse let each man\u2019s breast be fill\u2019d;\nFierce is the struggle; in his pride of strength\nHector has forc\u2019d the gates and massive bars,\nAnd raging, \u2019mid the ships maintains the war.\u201d\n\nThus Neptune on the Greeks, reproving, call\u2019d:\nThen round th\u2019 Ajaces twain were cluster\u2019d thick\nThe serried files, whose firm array nor Mars,\nNor spirit-stirring Pallas might reprove:\nFor there, the bravest all, in order due,\nWaited the Trojan charge by Hector led:\nSpear close by spear, and shield by shield o\u2019erlaid,\nBuckler to buckler press\u2019d, and helm to helm,\nAnd man to man; the horsehair plumes above,\nThat nodded on the warriors\u2019 glitt\u2019ring crests,\nEach other touch\u2019d; so closely massed they stood.\nBackward, by many a stalwart hand, were drawn\nThe spears, in act to hurl; their eyes and minds\nTurn\u2019d to the front, and eager for the fray.\nOn pour\u2019d the Trojan masses; in the van\nHector straight forward urg\u2019d his furious course.\nAs some huge boulder, from its rocky bed\nDetach\u2019d, and by the wintry torrent\u2019s force\nHurl\u2019d down the cliff\u2019s steep face, when constant rains\nThe massive rock\u2019s firm hold have undermin\u2019d;\nWith giant bounds it flies; the crashing wood\nResounds beneath it; still it hurries on,\nUntil, arriving at the level plain,\nIts headlong impulse check\u2019d, it rolls no more;\nSo Hector, threat\u2019ning now through ships and tents,\nE\u2019en to the sea, to force his murd\u2019rous way,\nAnon, confronted by that phalanx firm,\nHalts close before it; while the sons of Greece,\nWith thrust of sword and double-pointed spears,\nStave off his onset; he a little space\nWithdrew, and loudly on the Trojans call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cTrojans, and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, stand ye firm! not long\nThe Greeks, though densely mass\u2019d, shall bar my way,\nBut soon, methinks, before my spear shall quail,\nIf from the chief of Gods my mission be,\nFrom Jove the Thund\u2019rer, royal Juno\u2019s Lord.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rais\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast;\nOn loftiest deeds intent, Deiphobus,\nThe son of Priam, from the foremost ranks,\nHis shield\u2019s broad orb before him borne, advanc\u2019d\nWith airy step, protected by the shield:\nAt him Meriones with glitt\u2019ring spear\nTook aim, nor miss\u2019d his mark; the shield\u2019s broad orb\nOf tough bull\u2019s-hide it struck; but pass\u2019d not through,\nFor near the head the sturdy shaft was snapp\u2019d.\nYet from before his breast Deiphobus\nHeld at arm\u2019s length his shield; for much he fear\u2019d\nThe weapon of Meriones; but he\nBack to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring ranks withdrew,\nGriev\u2019d at his baffled hopes and broken spear.\nThen tow\u2019rd the ships he bent his steps, to seek\nAnother spear, which in his tent remain\u2019d.\nThe rest, \u2019mid wild uproar, maintain\u2019d the fight.\n\nThere Teucer first, the son of Telamon,\nA warrior slew, the son of Mentor, Lord\nOf num\u2019rous horses, Imbrius, spearman skill\u2019d.\nIn former days, ere came the sons of Greece,\nHe in Pedaeus dwelt, and had to wife\nMedesicaste, Priam\u2019s bastard child;\nBut when the well-trimm\u2019d ships of Greece appear\u2019d,\nReturn\u2019d to Troy; and there, rever\u2019d by all,\nWith Priam dwelt, who lov\u2019d him as a son.\nHim Teucer with his lance below the ear\nStabb\u2019d, and drew back the weapon; down he fell,\nAs by the woodman\u2019s axe, on some high peak,\nFalls a proud ash, conspicuous from afar,\nScatt\u2019ring its tender foliage on the ground;\nHe fell; and loud his burnish\u2019d armour rang.\nForth Teucer sprang to seize the spoil; at whom,\nAdvancing, Hector aim\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear;\nHe saw, and, stooping, shunn\u2019d the brazen death\nA little space; but through the breast it struck\nAmphimachus, the son of Cteatus,\nThe son of Actor, hastening to the fight:\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\nThen forward Hector sprang, in hopes to seize\nThe brazen helm, that fitted well the brow\nOf brave Amphimachus; but Ajax met\nTh\u2019 advance of Hector with his glitt\u2019ring spear;\nHimself he reach\u2019d not, all in dazzling brass\nEncas\u2019d; but pressing on his bossy shield\nDrove by main force beyond where lay the dead:\nThem both the Greeks withdrew; th\u2019 Athenian chiefs\nStychius and brave Menestheus, bore away\nAmid the ranks of Greece Amphimachus;\nWhile, as two lions high above the ground\nBear through the brushwood in their jaws a goat,\nSnatch\u2019d from the sharp-fang\u2019d dogs\u2019 protecting care:\nSo, fill\u2019d with warlike rage, th\u2019 Ajaces twain\nLifted on high, and of its armour stripp\u2019d\nThe corpse of Imbrius; and Oileus\u2019 son,\nGriev\u2019d at Amphimachus, his comrade\u2019s death,\nCut from the tender neck, and like a ball\nSent whirling through the crowd the sever\u2019d head;\nAnd in the dust at Hector\u2019s feet it fell.\nThen, for his grandson slain, fierce anger fill\u2019d\nThe breast of Neptune; through the tents of Greece\nAnd ships he pass\u2019d, the Greeks encouraging,\nAnd ills preparing for the sons of Troy.\nHim met Idomeneus, the warrior King,\nLeaving a comrade, from the battle field,\nWounded behind the knee, but newly brought;\nBorne by his comrades, to the leech\u2019s care\nHe left him, eager to rejoin the fray;\nWhom by his tent th\u2019 Earth-shaking God address\u2019d,\nThe voice assuming of Andraemon\u2019s son,\nWho o\u2019er th\u2019 \u00c6tolians, as a God rever\u2019d,\nIn Pleuron reign\u2019d, and lofty Calydon:\n\n\u201cWhere now, Idomeneus, sage Cretan chief,\nAre all the vaunting threats, so freely pour\u2019d\nAgainst the Trojans by the sons of Greece?\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cretan King, Idomeneus:\n\u201cThoas, on none, so far as I may judge,\nMay blame be cast; we all our duties know;\nNor see I one by heartless fear restrain\u2019d,\nNor hanging back, and flinching from the war:\nYet by th\u2019 o\u2019erruling will of Saturn\u2019s son\nIt seems decreed that here the Greeks should fall,\nAnd far from Argos lie in nameless graves.\nBut, Thoas, as thyself art ever staunch,\nNor slow the laggards to reprove, thy work\nRemit not now; but rouse each sev\u2019ral man.\u201d\n\nTo whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied:\n\u201cIdomeneus, may he from Troy return\nNo more, but here remain to glut the dogs,\nIf such there be, from this day\u2019s fight who shrinks.\nBut haste thee, don thine arms; great need is now\nTo hasten, if in aught we two may serve:\nE\u2019en meaner men, united, courage gain;\nBut we the bravest need not fear to meet.\u201d\n\nHe said, and to the strife of men return\u2019d.\nWithin his well-constructed tent arriv\u2019d,\nStraight donn\u2019d Idomeneus his armour bright:\nTwo spears he took; and, like the lightning\u2019s flash,\nWhich, as a sign to men, the hand of Jove\nHurls downwards from Olympus\u2019 glitt\u2019ring heights;\nWhose dazzling radiance far around is thrown;\nFlash\u2019d, as the warrior ran, his armour bright.\nHim met Meriones, his follower brave,\nClose to the tent; to seek a spear he came;\nTo whom Idomeneus: \u201cMeriones,\nSwift-footed son of Molus, comrade dear,\nWhy com\u2019st thou here, and leav\u2019st the battle field?\nHast thou some wound receiv\u2019d, whereof the pain\nSubdues thy spirit? or com\u2019st thou, to the field\nTo summon me? unsummon\u2019d, well thou know\u2019st\nI better love the battle than the tent.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the sage Meriones:\n\u201cIdomeneus, the brass-clad Cretans\u2019 King,\nI come to seek a spear, if haply such\nWithin thy tent be found; for, in the fight,\nThat which I lately bore, e\u2019en now I broke\nAgainst the shield of brave Deiphobus.\u201d\n\nTo whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:\n\u201cOf spears, or one, or twenty, if thou list,\nThou there mayst find against the polish\u2019d wall.\nThe spoil of Trojans slain; for with my foes\n\u2019Tis not my wont to wage a distant war.\nThence have I store of spears, and bossy shields,\nAnd crested helms, and breastplates polish\u2019d bright.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the sage Meriones:\n\u201cNor are my tent and dark-ribb\u2019d ship devoid\nOf Trojan spoils; but they are far to seek;\nNor deem I that my hand is slack in fight;\nFor \u2019mid the foremost in the glorious strife\nI stand, whene\u2019er is heard the battle cry.\nMy deeds by others of the brass-clad Greeks\nMay not be noted; but thou know\u2019st them well.\u201d\n\nTo whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:\n\u201cWhat need of this? thy prowess well I know;\nFor should we choose our bravest through the fleet\nTo man the secret ambush, surest test\nOf warriors\u2019 courage, where is manifest\nThe diff\u2019rence \u2019twixt the coward and the brave;\n(The coward\u2019s colour changes, nor his soul\nWithin his breast its even balance keeps,\nBut changing still, from foot to foot he shifts,\nAnd in his bosom loudly beats his heart,\nExpecting death; and chatter all his teeth:\nThe brave man\u2019s colour changes not; no fear\nHe knows, the ambush ent\u2019ring; all his pray\u2019r\nIs that the hour of battle soon may come)\nE\u2019en there, thy courage none might call in doubt.\nShouldst thou from spear or sword receive a wound,\nNot on thy neck behind, nor on thy back\nWould fall the blow, but on thy breast, in front,\nStill pressing onward \u2019mid the foremost ranks.\nBut come, prolong we not this idle talk,\nLike babblers vain, who scorn might justly move:\nHaste to my tent, and there select thy spear.\u201d\n\nHe said: and from the tent Meriones,\nValiant as Mars, his spear selected straight,\nAnd, eager for the fray, rejoin\u2019d his chief.\nAs Mars, the bane of men, goes forth to war,\nAttended by his strong, unfearing son,\nTerror, who shakes the bravest warrior\u2019s soul;\nThey two, from Thrace, against the Ephyri,\nOr haughty Phlegyans arm; nor hear alike\nThe pray\u2019rs of both the combatants, one side\nWith vict\u2019ry crowning; so to battle went\nThose leaders twain, in dazzling arms array\u2019d:\nThen thus Meriones his chief address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cSon of Deucalion, say if on the right,\nOr on the centre of the gen\u2019ral host,\nOur onset should be made, or on the left;\nFor there, methinks, most succour need the Greeks.\u201d\n\nTo whom Idomeneus, the Cretan chief:\n\u201cOthers there are the centre to defend,\nTh\u2019 Ajaces both, and Teucer, of the Greeks\nBest archer, good too in the standing fight;\nThese may for Hector full employment find,\nBrave as he is, and eager for the fray;\nE\u2019en for his courage \u2019twere a task too hard,\nTheir might to conquer, and resistless hands,\nAnd burn the ships, if Saturn\u2019s son himself\nFire not, and \u2019mid the shipping throw the torch.\nGreat Ajax Telamon to none would yield,\nOf mortal birth, by earthly food sustain\u2019d,\nBy spear or pond\u2019rous stone assailable;\nIn hand to hand encounter, scarce surpass\u2019d\nBy Peleus\u2019 son Achilles; though with him\nIn speed of foot he might not hope to vie.\nThen on the left let us our onset make;\nAnd quickly learn if we on others\u2019 heads\nAre doom\u2019d to win renown, or they on ours.\u201d\n\nHe said: and, brave as Mars, Meriones,\nThither where he directed, led the way.\nNow when, attended thus, Idomeneus,\nLike blazing fire, in dazzling arms appear\u2019d,\nAround him throng\u2019d, with rallying cries, the Greeks,\nAnd rag\u2019d beside the ships the balanc\u2019d fight.\nAs, when the dust lies deepest on the roads,\nBefore the boist\u2019rous winds the storm drives fast,\nAnd high at once the whirling clouds are toss\u2019d;\nSo was the fight confus\u2019d; and in the throng\nEach man with keen desire of slaughter burn\u2019d.\nBristled the deadly strife with pond\u2019rous spears,\nWielded with dire intent; the brazen gleam\nDazzled the sight, by flashing helmets cast,\nAnd breastplates polish\u2019d bright, and glitt\u2019ring shields\nCommingling; stern of heart indeed were he,\nWho on that sight with joy, not pain, could gaze.\n\nDire evil then on mortal warriors brought\nThe diverse minds of Saturn\u2019s mighty sons:\nTo Hector and the Trojans Jove design\u2019d,\nIn honour of Achilles, swift of foot,\nTo give the vict\u2019ry; yet not utterly\nHe will\u2019d to slay before the walls of Troy\nThe Grecian host; but glory to confer\nOn Thetis and her noble-minded son.\nNeptune, on th\u2019 other side, the Greeks inspir\u2019d,\nClandestine rising from the hoary sea;\nFor them before the Trojan host o\u2019erborne\nHe saw with grief, and deeply wroth with Jove.\nEqual the rank of both, their birth the same,\nBut Jove in wisdom, as in years, the first.\nNor ventur\u2019d Neptune openly to aid\nThe cause of Greece; but cloth\u2019d in mortal form,\nIn secret still the army\u2019s courage rous\u2019d.\nThis way and that they tugg\u2019d of furious war\nAnd balanc\u2019d strife, where many a warrior fell,\nThe straining rope, which none might break or loose.\nThen, though his hair was grizzl\u2019d o\u2019er with age,\nCalling the Greeks to aid, Idomeneus,\nInspiring terror, on the Trojans sprang,\nAnd slew Othryoneus, who but of late\nCame from Cabesus on the alarm of war;\nAnd, welcomed as a guest in Priam\u2019s house,\nThe fairest of his daughters sought to wed,\nNo portion asked, Cassandra; mighty deeds\nHe promis\u2019d, from before the walls of Troy\nIn their despite to drive the sons of Greece.\nThe aged Priam listen\u2019d to his snit;\nAnd he, his promise trusting, fought for Troy.\nHim, marching with proud step, Idomeneus\nStruck with his glitt\u2019ring spear, nor aught avail\u2019d\nHis brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust,\nThund\u2019ring he fell: the victor vaunting cried:\n\n\u201cOthryoneus, above all mortal men\nI hold thee in respect, if thou indeed\nWilt make thy words to aged Priam good,\nWho promis\u2019d thee his daughter in return:\nWe too would offer thee a like reward;\nAnd give thee here to wed, from Argos brought,\nAtrides\u2019 fairest daughter, if with us\nThou wilt o\u2019erthrow the well-built walls of Troy.\nCome then, on board our ocean-going ships\nDiscuss the marriage contract; nor shall we\nBe found illib\u2019ral of our bridal gifts.\u201d\n\nHe said, and seizing by the foot the slain,\nDragg\u2019d from the press; but to the rescue came\nAsius, himself on foot before his car:\nSo close his charioteer the horses held,\nThey breath\u2019d upon his shoulders; eagerly\nHe sought to reach Idomeneus; but he,\nPreventing, through his gullet drove the spear,\nBeneath his chin; right through the weapon pass\u2019d;\nHe fell; as falls an oak, or poplar tall,\nOr lofty pine, which on the mountain top,\nFor some proud ship, the woodman\u2019s axe hath hewn:\nSo he, before the car and horses stretch\u2019d,\nHis death-cry utt\u2019ring, clutch\u2019d the blood-stain\u2019d soil;\nBewilder\u2019d, helpless, stood his charioteer;\nNor dar\u2019d, escaping from the foemen\u2019s hands,\nTo turn his horses: him, Antilochus\nBeneath the waistband struck; nor aught avail\u2019d\nHis brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust,\nHe, from the well-wrought chariot, gasping, fell.\nAntilochus, the noble Nestor\u2019s son,\nThe horses seiz\u2019d, and from the Trojan ranks\nDrove to the Grecian camp. For Asius\u2019 death\nDeep griev\u2019d, Deiphobus, approaching, hurl\u2019d\nAgainst Idomeneus his glitt\u2019ring spear:\nThe coming weapon he beheld, and shunn\u2019d:\nBeneath the ample circle of his shield,\nWith hides and brazen plates encircled round,\nAnd by two rods sustain\u2019d, conceal\u2019d he stood:\nBeneath he crouch\u2019d, and o\u2019er him flew the spear:\nYet harsh it grated, glancing from the shield;\nNor bootless from that stalwart hand it flew,\nBut through the midriff, close below the heart,\nHypsenor, son of Hippasus, it struck,\nAnd straight relax\u2019d his limbs; then shouting loud,\nIn boastful tone, Deiphobus exclaim\u2019d:\n\n\u201cNot unaveng\u2019d lies Asius; he, methinks,\nAs I have found him fellowship, with joy\nThro\u2019 Hades\u2019 strongly-guarded gates may pass.\u201d\nHe said; the Greeks, indignant, heard his boast;\nChief, of Antilochus the manly soul\nWas stirr\u2019d within him; yet amid his grief\nHis comrade not forgetting, up he ran,\nAnd o\u2019er him spread the cover of his shield.\nMeanwhile, two trusty friends, Mecistheus, son\nOf Echius, and Alastor, rais\u2019d the slain,\nAnd deeply groaning bore him to the ships.\nNor did Idomeneus his noble rage\nAbate; still burning o\u2019er some Trojan soul\nTo draw the gloomy veil of night and death;\nOr, having sav\u2019d the Greeks, himself to fall.\nThen high-born \u00c6suetes\u2019 son he slew,\nAlcathous; he, Anchises\u2019 son-in-law,\nThe eldest of his daughters had to wife,\nHippodamia; by her parents both,\nO\u2019er all, belov\u2019d; in beauty, skill, and mind,\nAll her compeers surpassing; wife of one,\nThe noblest man through all the breadth of Troy.\nHim Neptune by Idomeneus subdued;\nSeal\u2019d his quick eyes, his active limbs restrain\u2019d,\nWithout the pow\u2019r to fly, or shun the spear;\nFix\u2019d as a pillar, or a lofty tree,\nHe stood, while through his breast Idomeneus\nHis weapon drove; the brazen mail it broke,\nWhich oft had turn\u2019d aside the stroke of death;\nHarshly it grated, sever\u2019d by the spear:\nHe fell; the spear-point quiv\u2019ring in his heart,\nWhich with convulsive throbbings shook the shaft.\nThere Mars its course arrested. Then with shouts\nOf triumph, vaunting, thus Idomeneus:\n\n\u201cHow now, Deiphobus? are three for one\nAn equal balance? where are now thy boasts?\nCome forth, my friend, thyself to me oppos\u2019d;\nAnd learn, if here, unworthy my descent\nFrom Jove, my great progenitor, I stand.\nHe Minos, guardian chief of Crete, begot;\nNoble Deucalion was to Minos born,\nI to Deucalion; far extends my rule\nIn wide-spread Crete; whom now our ships have brought,\nA bane to thee, thy sire, and Trojans all.\u201d\n\nHe said; and doubtful stood Deiphobus,\nOr to retreat, and summon to his aid\nThe Trojans, or alone the venture try.\nThus as he mus\u2019d, the wiser course appear\u2019d\nTo seek \u00c6neas; him he found apart,\nBehind the crowd; for he was still at feud\nWith godlike Priam, who, he thought, withheld\nThe public honour to his valour due.\nTo whom Deiphobus, approaching, thus:\n\n\u201c\u00c6neas, sagest councillor of Troy,\nBehoves thee now, if rev\u2019rence for the dead\nCan move thy soul, thy sister\u2019s husband aid:\nHaste we to save Alcathous; who of old,\nWhen thou wast little, in thy father\u2019s house,\nNurs\u2019d thee with tender care; for him, but now,\nThe spear-renown\u2019d Idomeneus hath slain.\u201d\n\nHe said; \u00c6neas\u2019 spirit was rous\u2019d, and fill\u2019d\nWith martial rage he sought Idomeneus.\nNor, cowardlike, did he th\u2019 encounter shun;\nBut firmly stood, as stands a mountain-boar\nSelf-confident, that in some lonely spot\nAwaits the clam\u2019rous chase; bristles his back;\nHis eyes with fire are flashing; and his tusks\nHe whets, on men and dogs prepar\u2019d to rush:\nSo stood the spear-renown\u2019d Idomeneus,\nThe onset of \u00c6neas, swift in fight,\nAwaiting; and the friends he saw around\nHe summon\u2019d to his aid; Ascalaphus,\nDeipyrus, and brave Meriones,\nAntilochus and Aphareus; to these,\nTried warriors all, he thus addressed his speech:\n\n\u201cAid me, my friends! alone I stand, and dread\nThe onset of \u00c6neas, swift of foot.\nMighty to slay in battle; and the bloom\nOf youth is his, the crown of human strength;\nIf, as our spirit, our years were but the same,\nGreat glory now should he, or I, obtain.\u201d\nHe said; and, one in heart, their bucklers slop\u2019d\nUpon their shoulders, all beside him stood.\n\nOn th\u2019 other side, \u00c6neas to his aid\nSummon\u2019d his brother chiefs, Deiphobus,\nAnd Paris, and Agenor; following whom\nCame on the gen\u2019ral crowd; as flocks of sheep\nFrom pasture follow to their drinking-place\nThe lordly ram; well pleas\u2019d the shepherd sees;\nSo pleas\u2019d, \u00c6neas saw the gath\u2019ring crowd.\nThen o\u2019er Alcathous hand to hand was wag\u2019d\nThe war of spears; dire was the clash of brass\nUpon the heroes\u2019 breasts, as \u2019mid the press\nEach aim\u2019d at other; proudly eminent\nStood forth two mighty warriors, terrible\nAs Mars, \u00c6neas and Idomeneus,\nTheir sharp spears wielding each at other\u2019s life.\nFirst at Idomeneus \u00c6neas threw\nHis spear; he saw, and shunn\u2019d the brazen point;\nAnd vainly from his stalwart hand dismiss\u2019d,\n\u00c6neas\u2019 spear stood quiv\u2019ring in the ground.\nIdomeneus in front, below the waist,\n\u0152nomaus struck; the weighty spear broke through\nThe hollow breastplate, and th\u2019 intestines tore;\nProne in the dust he fell, and clutch\u2019d the ground.\nForthwith Idomeneus from out the corpse\nThe pond\u2019rous spear withdrew; yet could not strip\nHis armour off; so thickly flew the spears.\nNor did his feet retain their youthful force,\nHis weapon to regain, or back to spring.\nSkill\u2019d in the standing fight his life to guard,\nHe lack\u2019d the active pow\u2019r of swift retreat.\nAt him, retiring slow, Deiphobus,\nStill fill\u2019d with anger, threw his glitt\u2019ring spear:\nHis aim he miss\u2019d; but through the shoulder pierc\u2019d\nAscalaphus, a valiant son of Mars;\nProne in the dust he fell, and clutch\u2019d the ground.\nNor knew the loud-voic\u2019d, mighty God of War\nThat in the stubborn fight his son had fall\u2019n;\nOn high Olympus, girt with golden clouds,\nHe sat, amid th\u2019 Immortals all, restrain\u2019d,\nBy Jove\u2019s commands, from mingling in the war.\nHow hand to hand around Ascalaphus\nRag\u2019d the fierce conflict: first Deiphobus\nFrom off his head the glitt\u2019ring helmet tore;\nBut, terrible as Mars, Meriones\nSprang forth, and pierc\u2019d his arm; and from his hand\nWith hollow sound the crested helmet fell.\nOn, like a vulture, sprang Meriones,\nAnd from his arm the sturdy spear withdrew;\nThen backward leap\u2019d amid his comrades\u2019 ranks;\nWhile round his brother\u2019s waist Polites threw\nHis arms, and led him from the battle-field\nTo where, with charioteer and rich-wrought car,\nBeyond the fight, his flying coursers stood.\nHim, rack\u2019d with pain, and groaning, while the blood\nStream\u2019d down his wounded arm, to Troy they bore.\nThe rest fought on, and loud the tumult rose.\n\n\u00c6neas through the throat of Aphareus,\nCaletor\u2019s son, turn\u2019d sideways tow\u2019rds him, drove\nHis glitt\u2019ring spear; and down on th\u2019 other side,\nHis shield and helmet following, sank his head;\nAnd o\u2019er his eyes were cast the shades of death.\nAs Thoon turn\u2019d, Antilochus, who watch\u2019d\nTh\u2019 occasion, forward sprang, and with his spear\nRipp\u2019d all the flesh that lay along the spine\nUp to the neck; he backward fell, with hands\nUplifted calling for his comrades\u2019 aid:\nBut forward sprang Antilochus, and tore\nHis armour from his breast, while round he cast\nHis watchful glances; for on ev\u2019ry side\nOn his broad shield the Trojans show\u2019r\u2019d their blows,\nBut touch\u2019d him not; for Neptune, \u2019mid the throng\nOf weapons, threw his guard o\u2019er Nestor\u2019s son.\nYet not aloof he stood, but in their midst,\nCommingled; nor held motionless his spear;\nBut ever threat\u2019ning, turn\u2019d from side to side,\nPrepar\u2019d to hurl, or hand to hand engage.\nHim Adamas, the son of Asius, marked,\nAs o\u2019er the crowd he glanc\u2019d; and springing forth,\nStruck with his spear the centre of the shield;\nBut dark-hair\u2019d Neptune grudg\u2019d the hero\u2019s life,\nAnd stay\u2019d the brazen point; half in the shield,\nLike a fire-harden\u2019d stake, remained infix\u2019d,\nThe other half lay broken, on the ground.\nBack to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring ranks he sprang,\nIn hope of safety; but Meriones,\nQuick-following, plung\u2019d his weapon through his groin,\nWhere sharpest agony to wretched men\nAttends on death; there planted he his spear:\nAround the shaft he writh\u2019d, and gasping groan\u2019d,\nLike to a mountain bull, which, bound with cords,\nThe herdsmen drag along, with struggles vain,\nResisting; so the wounded warrior groan\u2019d:\nBut not for long: for fierce Meriones,\nApproaching, from his body tore the spear,\nAnd the dark shades of death his eyes o\u2019erspread.\nThen Helenus, a weighty Thracian sword\nWielding aloft, across the temples smote\nDeipyrus, and all his helmet crash\u2019d;\nWhich, as it roll\u2019d beneath their feet, some Greek\nSeiz\u2019d \u2019mid the press; his eyes were clos\u2019d in death.\nThe valiant Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son,\nWith grief beheld; and royal Helenus\nWith threat\u2019ning mien approaching, pois\u2019d on high\nHis glitt\u2019ring spear, while he the bowstring drew.\nThen simultaneous flew from either side\nThe gleaming spear, and arrow from the string.\nThe shaft of Priam\u2019s son below the breast\nThe hollow cuirass struck, and bounded off;\nAs bound the dark-skinn\u2019d beans, or clatt\u2019ring peas,\nFrom the broad fan upon the threshing-floor,\nBy the brisk breeze impell\u2019d, and winnower\u2019s force;\nFrom noble Menelaus\u2019 cuirass so\nThe stinging arrow bounding, glanc\u2019d afar.\nBut valiant Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son,\nTransfix\u2019d the hand that held the polish\u2019d bow:\nThe brazen point pass\u2019d through, and to the bow\nThe hand was pinn\u2019d; back to his comrades\u2019 ranks\nHe sprang, in hope of safety, hanging down\nThe wounded limb, that trail\u2019d the ashen spear.\nAgenor from the wound the spear withdrew,\nAnd with a twisted sling of woollen cloth,\nBy an attendant brought, bound up the hand.\nTo noble Menelaus stood oppos\u2019d\nPeisander, to the confines dark of death\nLed by his evil fate, by thee to fall,\nGreat son of Atreus, in the deadly strife.\nWhen near they drew, Atrides miss\u2019d his aim,\nWith erring spear divergent; next his shield\nPeisander struck, but drove not through the spear;\nFor the broad shield resisted, and the shaft\nWas snapp\u2019d in sunder: Menelaus saw\nRejoicing, and with hope of triumph flush\u2019d;\nUnsheathing then his silver-studded sword\nRush\u2019d on Peisander; he beneath his shield\nDrew forth a pond\u2019rous brazen battle-axe,\nWith handle long, of polish\u2019d olive-wood:\nAnd both at once in deadly combat join\u2019d.\nThen, just below the plume, Peisander struck\nThe crested helmet\u2019s peak; but Atreus\u2019 son\nMet him advancing, and across the brow\nSmote him, above the nose; loud crash\u2019d the bone,\nAnd in the dust the gory eyeballs dropp\u2019d\nBefore him; doubled with the pain, he fell:\nThe victor, planting on his chest his foot,\nStripp\u2019d off his arms, and thus exulting cried:\n\u201cThus shall ye all, insatiate of the fight,\nProud Trojans, from before our ships depart;\nNor lack your share of insult and of wrong,\nSuch as on me, vile hounds, ye cast erewhile,\nNor fear\u2019d th\u2019 avenger of the slighted laws\nOf hospitality, high thund\u2019ring Jove,\nWho soon your lofty city shall o\u2019erthrow.\nKindly receiv\u2019d, my virgin-wedded wife,\nWith store of goods, ye basely bore away;\nAnd now ye rage, infuriate, to destroy\nWith fire our ocean-going ships, and slay\nOur Grecian heroes; but the time shall come\nWhen ye too fain would from the war escape.\nO Father Jove, \u2019tis said that thou excell\u2019st,\nIn wisdom, Gods and men; all human things\nFrom thee proceed; and can it be, that thou\nWith favour seest these men of violence,\nThese Trojans, with presumptuous courage fill\u2019d,\nWhose rage for the battle knows nor stint nor bound?\nMen are with all things sated; sleep and love;\nSweet sounds of music, and the joyous dance.\nOf these may some more gladly take their fill;\nBut Trojans still for war, instiate, thirst.\u201d\n\nThus Menelaus; and the blood-stained arms\nStripp\u2019d from the corpse, and to his comrades gave;\nThen join\u2019d again the foremost in the fray.\nThere to th\u2019 encounter forth Harpalion sprang,\nSon of the King Pylaemenes, who came,\nHis father following, to the war of Troy,\nBut back return\u2019d not to his native land.\nHe standing near, full in the centre struck\nAtrides\u2019 shield, but drove not through the spear;\nBack to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring ranks he sprang\nIn hopes of safety, glancing all around,\nHis body to defend; but as he turn\u2019d,\nIn his right flank a brazen-pointed shaft,\nShot by Meriones, was buried deep:\nBeneath the bone it pass\u2019d, and pierc\u2019d him through.\nAt once he fell; and gasping out his life,\nAmid his comrades, writhing on the ground\nLike a crush\u2019d worm he lay; and from the wound\nThe dark blood pouring, drench\u2019d the thirsty soil.\n\nThe valiant troops of Paphlagonia clos\u2019d\nAround him; on his car they plac\u2019d the slain.\nAnd deeply sorrowing, to the city bore;\nHis father, weeping, walk\u2019d beside the car,[4]\nNor vengeance for his slaughter\u2019d son obtain\u2019d.\nParis with grief and anger saw him fall:\nFor he in former days his guest had been\nIn Paphlagonia; then, with anger fill\u2019d,\nA brass-tipp\u2019d arrow from his bow he sent.\n\nA certain man there was, Euchenor nam\u2019d,\nWho dwelt in Corinth; rich, of blameless life,\nThe son of Polyeidus, skilful seer:\nHis fate well knowing, he embark\u2019d; for oft\nThe good old man had told him that his doom\nWas, or at home by sharp disease to die,\nOr with the Greeks by Trojan hands to fall.\nEmbarking, he escap\u2019d alike the fine\nBy Greeks impos\u2019d, and pangs of sharp disease.\nHim Paris smote between the ear and jaw;\nSwift fled his spirit, and darkness clos\u2019d his eyes.\nThus rag\u2019d, like blazing fire, the furious fight.\n\nBut nought as yet had Hector heard, nor knew\nHow sorely, leftward of the ships, were press\u2019d\nThe Trojans by the Greeks; and now appear\u2019d\nTheir triumph, sure; such succour Neptune gave,\nTheir courage rousing, and imparting strength.\nBut there he kept, where first the serried ranks\nOf Greeks he broke, and storm\u2019d the wall and gates;\nThere beach\u2019d beside the hoary sea, the ships\nOf Ajax and Protesilaus lay;\nThere had the wall been lowest built; and there\nWere gather\u2019d in defence the chiefest all,\nHorses and men: the stout B\u0153otians there,\nJoin\u2019d to th\u2019 Ionians with their flowing robes,\nLoerians, and Phthians, and Epeians proud,\nCould scarce protect their ships; nor could repel\nTh\u2019 impetuous fire of godlike Hector\u2019s charge.\nThere too the choicest troops of Athens fought;\nTheir chief, Menestheus, Peteus\u2019 son; with whom\nWere Pheidas, Stichius, Bias in command;\nTh\u2019 Epeians Meges, Phyleus\u2019 son, obey\u2019d,\nAnd Dracius and Amphion; Medon next,\nWith brave Podarces led the Phthian host:\nMedon, the great Oileus\u2019 bastard son,\nBrother of Ajax; he in Phylace,\nFar from his native land, was driv\u2019n to dwell,\nSince one to Eriopis near akin,\nHis sire Oileus\u2019 wife, his hand had slain.\nPodarces from Iphiclus claim\u2019d his birth,\nThe son of Phylacus; these two in arms\nThe valiant Phthians leading to the fight,\nJoin\u2019d the B\u0153otian troops to guard the ships.\nBut from the side of Ajax Telamon\nStirr\u2019d not a whit Oileus\u2019 active son;\nBut as on fallow-land with one accord,\nTwo dark-red oxen drag the well-wrought plough,\nStreaming with sweat that gathers round their horns;\nThey by the polish\u2019d yoke together held,\nThe stiff soil cleaving, down the furrow strain;\nSo closely, side by side, those two advanc\u2019d.\nBut comrades, many and brave, on Telamon\nAttended, who, whene\u2019er with toil and sweat\nHis limbs grew faint, upheld his weighty shield;\nWhile in the fray, Oileus\u2019 noble son\nNo Locrians follow\u2019d; theirs were not the hearts\nTo brook th\u2019 endurance of the standing fight;\nNor had they brass-bound helms, with horsehair plume,\nNor ample shields they bore, nor ashen spear;\nBut came to Troy, in bows and twisted slings\nOf woollen cloth confiding; and from these\nTheir bolts quick-show\u2019ring, broke the Trojan ranks.\nWhile those, in front, in glitt\u2019ring arms oppos\u2019d\nThe men of Troy, by noble Hector led:\nThese, in the rear, unseen, their arrows shot.\nNor stood the Trojans; for amid their ranks\nThe galling arrows dire confusion spread.\nThen had the Trojans from the ships and tents\nBack to the breezy heights of Troy been driv\u2019n\nIn flight disastrous; but Polydamas\nDrew near to Hector, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cHector, I know thee, how unapt thou art\nTo hearken to advice; because the Gods\nHave giv\u2019n thee to excel in warlike might,\nThou deemest thyself, in counsel too, supreme;\nYet every gift thou canst not so combine:\nTo one the Gods have granted warlike might,\nTo one the dance, to one the lyre and song;\nWhile in another\u2019s breast all-seeing Jove\nHath plac\u2019d the spirit of wisdom, and a mind\nDiscerning, for the common good of all:\nBy him are states preserv\u2019d; and he himself\nBest knows the value of the precious gift.\nThen hear what seems to me the wisest course.\nOn ev\u2019ry side the circling ring of war\nIs blazing all around thee; and, thou seest,\nOur valiant Trojans, since the wall they scal\u2019d,\nOr stand aloof, or scatter\u2019d \u2019mid the ships\nOutnumber\u2019d, with superior forces strive.\nThen thou, retiring, hither call the chiefs;\nHere take we counsel fully, if to fall\nUpon their well-mann\u2019d ships, should Heaven vouchsafe\nThe needful strength, or, scatheless yet, withdraw;\nFor much I fear they soon will pay us back\nTheir debt of yesterday; since in their ranks\nOne yet remains insatiate of the fight,\nAnd he, methinks, not long will stand aloof.\u201d\n\nThus he: the prudent counsel Hector pleas\u2019d;\nDown from his chariot with his arms he leap\u2019d,\nAnd to Polydamas his speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cPolydamas, detain thou here the chiefs;\nThither will I, and meet the front of war,\nAnd, giv\u2019n my orders, quickly here return.\u201d\n\nHe said; and, like a snow-clad mountain high,\nUprose; and loudly shouting, in hot haste\nFlew through the Trojan and Confed\u2019rate host.\nAt sound of Hector\u2019s voice, round Panthous\u2019 son,\nPolydamas, were gather\u2019d all the chiefs.\nBut \u2019mid the foremost combatants he sought\nIf haply he might find Deiphobus,\nAnd royal Helenus, and Adamas,\nAnd gallant Asius, son of Hyrtacus.\nThese found he not unscath\u2019d by wounds or death;\nFor some beside the ships of Greece had paid,\nBy Grecian hands, the forfeit of their lives,\nWhile others wounded lay within the wall.\nBut, to the leftward of the bloody fray,\nThe godlike Paris, fair-hair\u2019d Helen\u2019s Lord,\nCheering his comrades to the fight, he found,\nAnd with reproachful words address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cThou wretched Paris, fair in outward form,\nThou slave of woman, manhood\u2019s counterfeit,\nWhere is Deiphobus, and where the might\nOf royal Helenus? where Adamas,\nThe son of Asius? where too Asius, son\nOf Hyrtacus? and where Othryoneus?\nNow from its summit totters to the fall\nOur lofty Ilium; now thy doom is sure.\u201d\n\nTo whom the godlike Paris thus replied:\n\u201cHector, since blameless I incur thy blame,\nNe\u2019er have I less withdrawn me from the fight,\nAnd me not wholly vile my mother bore;\nFor since thou gav\u2019st command to attack the ships,\nWe here against the Greeks unflinching war\nHave wag\u2019d; our comrades, whom thou seek\u2019st, are slain:\nOnly Deiphobus hath left the field,\nAnd Helenus; both wounded by the spear,\nBoth through the hand; but Jove their life hath spar\u2019d.\nBut thou, where\u2019er thy courage bids, lead on:\nWe shall be prompt to follow; to our pow\u2019r\nThou shalt in us no lack of valour find;\nBeyond his pow\u2019r the bravest cannot fight.\u201d\n\nWrought on his brother\u2019s mind the hero\u2019s words:\nTogether both they bent their steps, where rag\u2019d\nThe fiercest conflict; there Cebriones,\nPhalces, Orthaeus, brave Polydamas,\nPalmys, and godlike Polyphetes\u2019 might,\nAnd Morys, and Ascanius fought; these two\nHippotion\u2019s sons; from rich Ascania\u2019s plains\nThey, as reliefs, but yestermorn had come;\nImpell\u2019d by Jove, they sought the battle field.\nOnward they dash\u2019d, impetuous as the rush\nOf the fierce whirlwind, which with lightning charg\u2019d,\nFrom Father Jove sweeps downward o\u2019er the plain:\nAs with loud roar it mingles with the sea,\nThe many-dashing ocean\u2019s billows boil,\nUpheaving, foam-white-crested, wave on wave;\nSo, rank on rank, the Trojans, closely mass\u2019d,\nIn arms all glitt\u2019ring, with their chiefs advanc\u2019d;\nHector, the son of Priam, led them on,\nIn combat terrible as blood-stain\u2019d Mars:\nBefore his breast his shield\u2019s broad orb he bore,\nOf hides close join\u2019d, with brazen plates o\u2019erlaid;\nThe gleaming helmet nodded o\u2019er his brow.\nHe, with proud step, protected by his shield,\nOn ev\u2019ry side the hostile ranks survey\u2019d,\nIf signs of yielding he might trace; but they\nUnshaken stood; and with like haughty mien,\nAjax at Hector thus defiance hurl\u2019d:\n\n\u201cDraw nearer, mighty chief; why seek to scare\nOur valiant Greeks? we boast ourselves of war\nNot wholly unskill\u2019d, though now the hand of Jove\nLies heavy on us with the scourge of Heav\u2019n.\nThou hop\u2019st, forsooth, our vessels to destroy;\nBut stalwart arms for their defence we boast.\nLong ere that day shall your proud city fall,\nTak\u2019n and destroy\u2019d by our victorious hands.\nNot far the hour, when thou thyself in flight\nTo Jove and all the Gods shalt make thy pray\u2019r,\nThat swifter than the falcon\u2019s wing thy steeds\nMay bear thee o\u2019er the dusty plain to Troy.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, upon his right appear\u2019d\nAn eagle, soaring high; the crowd of Greeks\nThe fav\u2019ring omen saw, and shouted loud:\nThen noble Hector thus: \u201cWhat words are these,\nAjax, thou babbling braggart, vain of speech!\nFor would to Heav\u2019n I were as well assur\u2019d\nI were the son of aegis-bearing Jove,\nBorn of imperial Juno, and myself\nIn equal honour with Apollo held\nOr blue-ey\u2019d Pallas, as I am assur\u2019d\nThis day is fraught with ill to all the Greeks:\nThou \u2019mid the rest shalt perish, if thou dare\nMy spear encounter, which thy dainty skin\nShall rend; and slain beside the ships, thy flesh\nShall glut the dogs and carrion birds of Troy.\u201d\n\nHe said, and led them on; with eager cheers\nThey followed; shouted loud the hindmost throng.\nOn th\u2019 other side the Greeks return\u2019d the shout:\nOf all the Trojans\u2019 bravest they, unmov\u2019d,\nThe onset bore; their mingled clamours rose\nTo Heav\u2019n, and reach\u2019d the glorious light of Jove.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nJUNO DECEIVES JUPITER BY THE GIRDLE OF VENUS.\n\n\nNestor, sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the\nincreasing clamour of the war, and hastens to Agamemnon; on his way he\nmeets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the\nextremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by\nnight, which Ulysses withstands; to which Diomed adds his advice, that,\nwounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with\ntheir presence; which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of\nJupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to overreach him; she sets off\nher charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him)\nobtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god\nof Sleep, and with some difficulty persuades him to seal the eyes of\nJupiter; this done, she goes to Mount Ida, where the god at first\nsight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid\nasleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the\nGreeks; Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax,\nand carried off from the battle; several actions succeed; till the\nTrojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way; the lesser Ajax\nsignalizes himself in a particular manner.\n\nBOOK XIV.\n\nNor did the battle-din not reach the ears\nOf Nestor, o\u2019er the wine-cup; and his speech\nHe thus address\u2019d to \u00c6sculapius\u2019 son:\n\n\u201cSay, good Machaon, what these sounds may mean;\nFor louder swells the tumult round the ships.\nBut sit thou here, and drink the ruddy wine,\nTill fair-hair\u2019d Hecamede shall prepare\nThe gentle bath, and wash thy gory wounds;\nWhile I go forth, and all around survey.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from the wall a buckler took,\nWell-wrought, with brass resplendent, which his son,\nBrave Thrasymedes, in the tent had left,\nWhile with his father\u2019s shield himself was girt;\nA sturdy spear too, tipp\u2019d with brass, he took:\nWithout the tent he stood; and there his eyes\nA woful sight beheld; the Greeks in flight,\nThe haughty Trojans pressing on their rout\nConfus\u2019d; the Greeks\u2019 protecting wall o\u2019erthrown.\nAs heaves the darkling sea with silent swell,\nExpectant of the boist\u2019rous gale\u2019s approach;\nNor onward either way is pour\u2019d its flood,\nUntil it feel th\u2019 impelling blast from Heav\u2019n;\nSo stood th\u2019 old man, his mind perplex\u2019d with doubt,\nTo mingle in the throng, or counsel seek\nOf mighty Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son.\nThus as he mused, the better course appear\u2019d,\nTo seek Atrides; fiercely fought the rest\nWith mutual slaughter; loud their armour rang\nWith thrusts of swords and double-pointed spears.\nThere Nestor met, advancing from the ships,\nThe Heav\u2019n-born Kings, Ulysses, Diomed,\nAnd Agamemnon, son of Atreus, all\nBy wounds disabled; for the ships were beach\u2019d\nUpon the shore, beside the hoary sea,\nFar from the battle; higher, tow\u2019rd the plain\nThe foremost had been drawn, and with a wall\nTheir sterns surrounded; for the spacious beach\nCould not contain them, and in narrow bounds\nWere pent their multitudes; so high on land\nThey drew, and rang\u2019d them side by side, and fill\u2019d,\nWithin the headlands, all the wide-mouth\u2019d bay.\nThus they, their steps supporting on their spears,\nTogether came, spectators of the fight;\nDeep sorrow fill\u2019d their breasts; them Nestor met,\nThe fear increasing, which their souls possess\u2019d.\nTo whom the monarch Agamemnon thus:\n\n\u201cO Nestor, son of Neleus, pride of Greece,\nWhy com\u2019st thou here, and leav\u2019st the battle-field?\nGreatly I fear that noble Hector now\nHis menace will fulfil, who made his boast\nBefore th\u2019 assembled Trojans, that to Troy\nHe never would return, until our ships\nThe flames had master\u2019d, and ourselves the sword.\nSuch was his threat, and now he makes it good.\nHeav\u2019n! can it be that I of other Greeks,\nAs of Achilles, have incurr\u2019d the wrath,\nWho thence refuse to battle for the ships?\u201d\n\nTo whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:\n\u201cSuch are indeed our prospects; Jove on high\nCould to our fortunes give no diff\u2019rent turn.\nThe wall is raz\u2019d, wherein our trust we plac\u2019d\nTo guard, impregnable, ourselves and ships;\nAnd now around the ships their war they wage,\nUnceasing, unabated; none might tell\nBy closest scrutiny, which way are driv\u2019n\nThe routed Greeks, so intermix\u2019d they fall\nPromiscuous; and the cry ascends to Heav\u2019n.\nBut come, discuss we what may best be done,\nIf judgment aught may profit us; ourselves\nTo mingle in the fray I counsel not;\nIt were not well for wounded men to fight.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cNestor, since to the ships the war is brought,\nNor hath the wall avail\u2019d to stay their course,\nNor yet the deep-dug trench, on which we Greeks\nMuch toil bestow\u2019d, and which we vainly hop\u2019d\nMight guard, impregnable, ourselves and ships;\nSeems it the will of Saturn\u2019s mighty son\nThat, far from Argos, from our native land,\nWe all should here in nameless graves be laid.\nI knew when once he lov\u2019d to aid the Greeks;\nBut now I see that to the blessed Gods\nOur foes he equals, and our strength confounds.\nHear then my counsel; let us all agree\nThe ships that nearest to the sea are beach\u2019d\nTo launch upon the main, till nightfall there\nTo ride at anchor: if that e\u2019en by night\nThe Trojans may suspend their fierce assault;\nThen may we launch in safety all the fleet.\nNo shame it is to fly, although by night,\nImpending evil; better so to fly\nThan by the threaten\u2019d danger be o\u2019erta\u2019en.\u201d\n\nTo whom, with scornful glance, Ulysses sage:\n\u201cWhat words have pass\u2019d the barrier of thy lips,\nThou son of Atreus? counsellor of ill!\nWould thou hadst been of some ignoble band\nThe leader, not the chief of such a host\nAs ours, on whom, from youth to latest age,\nJove hath the gift bestow\u2019d, to bear the brunt\nOf hardy war, till ev\u2019ry man be slain.\nAnd think\u2019st thou so to leave the lofty walls\nOf Troy, the object of our painful toil?\nBe silent, that no other Greek may hear\nWords, which no man might trust his tongue to speak,\nWho nobler counsels understands, and wields\nA royal sceptre, and th\u2019 allegiance claims\nOf numbers, such as those that own thy sway.\nThy counsels all I utterly condemn;\nWho, \u2019mid the close and clamour of the fight,\nWouldst have us launch our ships, and give the foe,\nAlready too triumphant, cause renew\u2019d\nFor boasting; then were death our certain lot;\nFor, if the ships he launch\u2019d, not long will Greeks\nSustain the war, but with reverted eyes\nShrink from the fight; to such pernicious end\nWould lead thy baneful counsels, mighty chief.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cUlysses, thy rebuke hath wrung my soul;\nYet never meant I, that against their will\nThe sons of Greece should launch their well found ships:\nBut if there be who better counsel knows,\nOr young or old, his words would please me well.\u201d\n\nThen rose the valiant Diomed, and said:\n\u201cThe man is near at hand, nor far to seek,\nIf ye will hear, nor take offence, that I,\nThe youngest of you all, presume to speak.\nYet of a noble sire I boast me sprung,\nTydeus, who sleeps beneath the Theban soil:\nTo Portheus three brave sons were born, who dwelt\nIn Pleuron and in lofty Calydon,\nAgrius, and Melas; bravest of them all,\nMy father\u2019s father, \u0152neus, was the third.\nHe there remain\u2019d; my father, wand\u2019ring long,\nTo Argos came; such was the will of Jove\nAnd of th\u2019 Immortals all; he there espous\u2019d\nAdrastus\u2019 daughter; own\u2019d a wealthy house,\nWith fertile corn-lands round, and orchards stor\u2019d\nWith goodly fruit-trees; num\u2019rous flocks he had,\nAnd all the Greeks in feats of arms excell\u2019d.\nHear ye the words I speak, for they are true:\nAnd if my speech be wise, despise it not,\nAs of one worthless, or ignobly born.\nThough wounded, to the battle I advise\nThat we perforce repair; yet not ourselves\nTo join the combat, or confront the spears,\nLest wounds to wounds be added; but to rouse\nThe spirits of some, who, zealous heretofore,\nHow stand aloof, nor mingle in the fray.\u201d\n\nHe said, and they, his words approving, went,\nBy Agamemnon led, the King of men.\nNor careless was the watch by Neptune kept:\nWith them, in likeness of an aged man,\nHe went, and Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nBy the right hand he took, and thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cO son of Atreus, great is now the joy\nWith which Achilles\u2019 savage breast is fill\u2019d,\nWho sees the slaughter and the rout of Greeks:\nFor nought he has of heart, no, not a whit:\nBut perish he, accursed of the Gods!\nNor deem thou that to thee the blessed Gods\nAre wholly hostile; yet again the chiefs\nAnd councillors of Troy shall scour in flight\nThe dusty plain; and from the ships and tents\nThine eyes shall see them to the city fly.\u201d\n\nHe said; and loudly shouting, onward rush\u2019d.\nAs of nine thousand or ten thousand men,\nIn deadly combat meeting, is the shout;\nSuch was the sound which from his ample chest\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaker sent; and ev\u2019ry Greek inspir\u2019d\nWith stern resolve to wage unflinching war.\n\nStanding on high Olympus\u2019 topmost peak,\nThe golden-throned Juno downward look\u2019d,\nAnd, busied in the glory-giving strife,\nHer husband\u2019s brother and her own she saw,\nSaw, and rejoic\u2019d; next, seated on the crest\nOf spring-abounding Ida, Jove she saw,\nSight hateful in her eyes! then ponder\u2019d deep\nThe stag-ey\u2019d Queen, how best she might beguile\nThe wakeful mind of aegis-bearing Jove;\nAnd, musing, this appear\u2019d the readiest mode:\nHerself with art adorning, to repair\nTo Ida; there, with fondest blandishment\nAnd female charm, her husband to enfold\nIn love\u2019s embrace; and gentle, careless sleep\nAround his eyelids and his senses pour.\nHer chamber straight she sought, by Vulcan built,\nHer son; by whom were to the door-posts hung\nClose-fitting doors, with secret keys secur\u2019d,\nThat, save herself, no God might enter in.\nThere enter\u2019d she, and clos\u2019d the shining doors;\nAnd with ambrosia first her lovely skin\nShe purified, with fragrant oil anointing,\nAmbrosial, breathing forth such odours sweet,\nThat, wav\u2019d above the brazen floor of Jove,\nAll earth and Heav\u2019n were with the fragrance fill\u2019d;\nO\u2019er her fair skin this precious oil she spread;\nComb\u2019d out her flowing locks, and with her hand\nWreath\u2019d the thick masses of the glossy hair,\nImmortal, bright, that crown\u2019d th\u2019 imperial head.\nA robe ambrosial then, by Pallas wrought,\nShe donn\u2019d, in many a curious pattern trac\u2019d,\nWith golden brooch beneath her breast confin\u2019d.\nHer zone, from which a hundred tassels hung,\nShe girt about her; and, in three bright drops,\nHer glitt\u2019ring gems suspended from her ears;\nAnd all around her grace and beauty shone.\nThen o\u2019er her head th\u2019 imperial Goddess threw\nA beauteous veil, new-wrought, as sunlight white;\nAnd on her well-turn\u2019d feet her sandals bound.\nHer dress completed, from her chamber forth\nShe issued, and from th\u2019 other Gods apart\nShe call\u2019d to Venus, and address\u2019d her thus:\n\u201cSay, wilt thou grant, dear child, the boon I ask?\nOr wilt thou say me nay, in wrath that I\nEspouse the Greek, as thou the Trojan cause?\u201d\n\nTo whom the laughter-loving Venus thus:\n\u201cDaughter of Saturn, Juno, mighty Queen,\nTell me thy wish; to grant it if my pow\u2019r\nMay aught avail, thy pleasure shall be done.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Juno thus, with artful speech:\n\u201cGive me the loveliness, and pow\u2019r to charm,\nWhereby thou reign\u2019st o\u2019er Gods and men supreme.\nFor to the bounteous Earth\u2019s extremest bounds\nI go, to visit old Oceanus,\nThe sire of Gods, and Tethys, who of yore\nFrom Rhaea took me, when all-seeing Jove\nHurl\u2019d Saturn down below the earth and seas,\nAnd nurs\u2019d me in their home with tend\u2019rest care;\nI go to visit them, and reconcile\nA lengthen\u2019d feud; for since some cause of wrath\nHas come between them, they from rites of love\nAnd from the marriage-bed have long abstain\u2019d:\nCould I unite them by persuasive words,\nAnd to their former intercourse restore,\nTheir love and rev\u2019rence were for ever mine.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the laughter-loving Queen:\n\u201cI ought not, and I cannot, say thee nay,\nWho liest encircled by the arms of Jove.\u201d\n\nThus Venus spoke; and from her bosom loos\u2019d\nHer broider\u2019d cestus, wrought with ev\u2019ry charm\nTo win the heart; there Love, there young Desire,\nThere fond Discourse, and there Persuasion dwelt,\nWhich oft enthralls the mind of wisest men.\nThis in her hand she plac\u2019d, as thus she spoke:\n\u201cTake thou from me, and in thy bosom hide,\nThis broider\u2019d cestus; and, whate\u2019er thy wish,\nThou shalt not here ungratified return.\u201d\n\nThus Venus; smil\u2019d the stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n,\nAnd, smiling, in her bosom hid the gift.\nThen Venus to her father\u2019s house return\u2019d;\nBut Juno down from high Olympus sped;\nO\u2019er sweet Emathia, and Pieria\u2019s range,\nO\u2019er snowy mountains of horse-breeding Thrace,\nTheir topmost heights, she soar\u2019d, nor touch\u2019d the earth.\nFrom Athos then she cross\u2019d the swelling sea,\nUntil to Lemnos, godlike Thoas\u2019 seat,\nShe came; there met she Sleep, twin-born with Death,\nWhom, as his hand she clasp\u2019d, she thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cSleep, universal King of Gods and men,\nIf ever thou hast listen\u2019d to my voice,\nGrant me the boon which now I ask, and win\nMy ceaseless favour in all time to come.\nWhen Jove thou seest in my embraces lock\u2019d,\nDo thou his piercing eyes in slumber seal.\nRich guerdon shall be thine; a gorgeous throne,\nImmortal, golden; which my skilful son,\nVulcan, shall deftly frame; beneath, a stool\nWhereon at feasts thy feet may softly rest.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the gentle God of Sleep:\n\u201cDaughter of Saturn, Juno, mighty Queen,\nOn any other of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nI can with ease exert my slumb\u2019rous pow\u2019r;\nEven to the stream of old Oceanus,\nPrime origin of all; but Saturn\u2019s son,\nImperial Jove, I dare not so approach,\nNor sink in sleep, save by his own desire.\nAlready once, obeying thy command,\nA fearful warning I receiv\u2019d, that day\nWhen from the capture and the sack of Troy\nThat mighty warrior, son of Jove, set sail;\nFor, circumfus\u2019d around, with sweet constraint\nI bound the sense of aegis-bearing Jove,\nWhile thou, with ill-design, rousing the force\nOf winds tempestuous o\u2019er the stormy sea,\nDidst cast him forth on Coos\u2019 thriving isle,\nFar from his friends; then Jove, awaking, pour\u2019d\nHis wrath, promiscuous, on th\u2019 assembled Gods;\nMe chief his anger sought; and from on high\nHad hurl\u2019d me, plung\u2019d beneath th\u2019 unfathom\u2019d sea,\nBut Night, the vanquisher of Gods and men,\nHer fugitive received me; he his wrath\nRepress\u2019d, unwilling to invade the claims\nOf holy Night; and now thou fain wouldst urge\nThat I another reckless deed essay.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n:\n\u201cWhy, Sleep, with thoughts like these perplex thy mind\nThink\u2019st thou that Jove as ardently desires\nTo aid the men of Troy, as fiercely burn\u2019d\nHis anger on his valiant son\u2019s behalf?\nGrant my request; and of the Graces one,\nThe youngest and the fairest, have to wife,\nPasithea, whom thy love hath long pursued.\u201d\n\nThus promis\u2019d Juno; Sleep, rejoicing, heard,\nAnd answer\u2019d thus: \u201cSwear then the awful oath.\nInviolable, by the stream of Styx,\nThy one hand laid upon the fruitful earth,\nThe other resting on the sparkling sea;\nThat all the Gods who in the nether realms\nWith Saturn dwell, may of our solemn bond\nBe witnesses, that of the Graces one,\nThe youngest, fairest, I shall have to wife,\nPasithea, whom my love hath long pursued.\u201d\n\nHe said: nor did the white-arm\u2019d Queen refuse;\nShe took the oath requir\u2019d; and call\u2019d by name\nOn all the Titans, sub-Tartarean Gods:\nThen, sworn and ratified the oath, they pass\u2019d\nFrom Lemnos, and from Imbros, veil\u2019d in cloud,\nSkimming their airy way; on Lectum first,\nIn spring-abounding Ida, nurse of beasts,\nThe sea they left, and journey\u2019d o\u2019er the land,\nWhile wav\u2019d beneath their feet the lofty woods.\nThere Sleep, ere yet he met the eye of Jove,\nRemain\u2019d; and, mounted on a lofty pine,\nThe tallest growth of Ida, that on high\nFlung through the desert air its boughs to Heav\u2019n,\nAmid the pine\u2019s close branches lay ensconc\u2019d;\nLike to a mountain bird of shrillest note,\nWhom Gods the Chalcis, men the night-hawk call.\nJuno meanwhile to Ida\u2019s summit sped,\nTo Gargarus; the Cloud-compeller saw;\nHe saw, and sudden passion fir\u2019d his soul,\nAs when, their parents\u2019 eyes eluding, first\nThey tasted of the secret joys of love.\nHe rose to meet her, and address\u2019d her thus:\n\n\u201cFrom high Olympus, Juno, whither bound,\nAnd how, to Ida hast thou come in haste?\nFor horses here or chariot hast thou none.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Juno with deceitful speech\nReplied: \u201cTo fertile earth\u2019s extremest bounds\nI go, to visit old Oceanus,\nThe sire of Gods, and Tethys, who of yore\nReceiv\u2019d, and nurtur\u2019d me with tend\u2019rest care.\nI go to visit them, and reconcile\nA lengthen\u2019d feud; for since some cause of wrath\nHas come between them, they from rites of love\nAnd from the marriage-bed have long abstain\u2019d.\nMeanwhile at spring-abounding Ida\u2019s foot\nMy horses wait me, that o\u2019er land and sea\nAlike my chariot bear; on thine account\nFrom high Olympus hither have I come,\nLest it displease thee, if, to thee unknown,\nI sought the Ocean\u2019s deeply-flowing stream.\u201d\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cJuno, thy visit yet awhile defer;\nAnd let us now in love\u2019s delights indulge:\nFor never yet did such a flood of love\nFor Goddess or for mortal fill my soul;\nNot for Ixion\u2019s beauteous wife, who bore\nPirithous, sage in council as the Gods;\nNor the neat-footed maiden Danae,\nAcrisius\u2019 daughter, her who Perseus bore,\nTh\u2019 observ\u2019d of all; nor noble Phoenix\u2019 child,\nWho bore me Minos, and the godlike might\nOf Rhadamanthus; nor for Semele,\nNor for Alcmena fair, of whom was born\nIn Thebes the mighty warrior Hercules,\nAs Bacchus, joy of men, of Semele:\nNo, nor for Ceres, golden-tressed Queen,\nNor for Latona bright, nor for thyself,\nAs now with fond desire for thee I burn.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Juno with deceitful speech:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nIf here on Ida, in the face of day,\nWe celebrate the mystic rites of love.\nHow if some other of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nShould find us sleeping, and \u2019mid all the Gods\nShould spread the tale abroad? I could not then\nStraight to thy house, for very shame, return.\nBut if indeed such passion fill thy soul,\nThou hast thy secret chamber, built for thee\nBy Vulcan, with close-fitting doors secur\u2019d;\nThither, if such thy pleasure, go we now.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cJuno, nor fear the eye of God or man;\nFor all around us I will throw such veil\nOf golden cloud, that not the sun himself\nWith sharpest beam of light may pierce it through.\u201d\n\nThus saying, in his arms he clasp\u2019d his wife;\nThe teeming earth beneath them caus\u2019d to spring\nThe tender grass, and lotus dew-besprent,\nCrocus and hyacinth, a fragrant couch,\nProfuse and soft, upspringing from the earth.\nThere lay they, all around them spread a veil\nOf golden cloud, whence heav\u2019nly dews distill\u2019d.\nThere on the topmost height of Gargarus,\nBy sleep and love subdued, th\u2019 immortal Sire,\nClasp\u2019d in his arms his wife, repos\u2019d in peace.\n\nThen Sleep arose, and to the Grecian ships\nIn haste repairing, to th\u2019 Earth-shaking King\nHis tidings bore; and standing at his side\nThus to the God his winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cNow, Neptune, to the Greeks thy ready aid\nAfford, that short-liv\u2019d triumph they may gain,\nWhile slumber holds the eyes of Jove; for I\nIn sweet unconsciousness have drown\u2019d his sense,\nBeguil\u2019d by Juno, in whose arms he lies.\u201d\n\nHe said, and vanish\u2019d \u2019mid the tribes of men:\nBut fir\u2019d with keener zeal to aid the Greeks,\nNeptune sprang forth in front, and call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cAgain, ye Greeks, shall our remissness yield\nThe victory to Hector, Priam\u2019s son,\nTo seize our ships, and endless glory gain?\nSuch is his boast and menace, since in wrath\nAchilles still beside his ships remains.\nYet him we scarce should miss, if we, the rest,\nBut firmly stood for mutual defence.\nHear then my counsel: let us all agree,\nGirt with our best and broadest shields, our heads\nWith flashing helmets guarded, in our hands\nGrasping our longest spears, to dare the fight.\nMyself will lead you on; and Priam\u2019s son,\nThough bold he be, will fear with me to cope.\nAnd if, among our bravest, any bear\nToo small a buckler, with some meaner man\nLet him exchange, and don the larger shield.\u201d\n\nHe said, and they assenting heard his speech.\nThe Kings themselves, Ulysses, Diomed,\nAnd mighty Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nThough sorely wounded, yet the troops array\u2019d;\nThro\u2019out the ranks they pass\u2019d, and chang\u2019d the arms;\nThe bravest donn\u2019d the best, the worse the worst.\nWhen with their dazzling armour all were girt,\nForward they mov\u2019d; th\u2019 Earth-shaker led them on:\nIn his broad hand an awful sword he bore,\nLong-bladed, vivid as the lightning\u2019s flash:\nYet in the deadly strife he might not join,\nBut kindled terror in the minds of men.\n\nHector meantime the Trojan troops array\u2019d.\nThen fiercer grew, and more intense the strain\nOf furious fight, when Ocean\u2019s dark-hair\u2019d King\nAnd Priam\u2019s noble son were met in arms,\nAnd aided, this the Trojans, that the Greeks.\nHigh tow\u2019rd the tents uprose the surging sea,\nAs with loud clamour met th\u2019 opposing hosts.\nLess loud the roar of Ocean\u2019s wave, that driv\u2019n\nBy stormy Boreas, breaks upon the beach;\nLess loud the crackling of the flames that rage\nIn the deep forest of some mountain glen;\nLess loud the wind, to wildest fury rous\u2019d,\nHowls in the branches of the lofty oaks;\nThan rose the cry of Trojans and of Greeks,\nAs each, with furious shout, encounter\u2019d each.\nAt Ajax first, who straight before him stood,\nGreat Hector threw his spear, nor miss\u2019d his aim,\nWhere the two belts, the one which bore his shield,\nHis silver-studded sword the other, met\nAcross his breast; these two his life preserv\u2019d.\nHector was wroth, that from his stalwart hand\nThe spear had flown in vain; and back he sprang\nFor safety to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring ranks:\nBut mighty Ajax Telamon upheav\u2019d\nA pond\u2019rous stone, of many, all around\nThat scatter\u2019d lay beneath the warriors\u2019 feet,\nAnd serv\u2019d to prop the ships; with one of these,\nAs Hector backward stepp\u2019d, above the shield\nHe smote him on the breast, below the throat.\nWith whirling motion, circling as it flew,\nThe mass he hurl\u2019d. As by the bolt of Heav\u2019n\nUprooted, prostrate lies some forest oak;\nThe sulph\u2019rous vapour taints the air; appall\u2019d,\nBereft of strength, the near beholder stands,\nAnd awestruck hears the thunder-peal of Jove;\nSo in the dust the might of Hector lay:\nDropp\u2019d from his hand the spear; the shield and helm\nFell with him; loud his polished armour rang.\nOn rush\u2019d, with joyous shout, the sons of Greece,\nIn hope to seize the spoil; thick flew the spears:\nYet none might reach or wound the fallen chief;\nFor gather\u2019d close around, the bravest all,\nValiant \u00c6neas, and Polydamas,\nGodlike Agenor, and the Lycian chief\nSarpedon, and the noble Glaucus stood.\nNor did the rest not aid; their shields\u2019 broad orbs\nBefore him still they held, while in their arms\nHis comrades bore him from the battle-field,\nTo where, with charioteer and well-wrought car,\nBeyond the fight, his flying coursers stood,\nWhich bore him, deeply groaning, tow\u2019rd the town.\nBut when the ford was reach\u2019d of Xanthus\u2019 stream,\nBroad-flowing, eddying, by immortal Jove\nBegotten, on the ground they laid him down,\nAnd dash\u2019d the cooling water on his brow:\nReviv\u2019d, he lifted up awhile his eyes;\nThen on his knees half rising, he disgorg\u2019d\nThe clotted blood; but backward to the earth,\nStill by the blow subdu\u2019d, again he fell,\nAnd darkling shades of night his eyes o\u2019erspread.\n\nOnward, with zeal redoubled, press\u2019d the Greeks,\nWhen Hector from the field they saw withdrawn.\nForemost of all, Oileus\u2019 active son,\nWith sudden spring assailing, Satnius slew:\nHim a fair Naiad nymph to \u0152nops bore,\nWho by the banks of Satnois kept his herds.\nHim then, approaching near, Oileus\u2019 son\nThrust through the flank: he fell, and o\u2019er his corpse\nTrojans and Greeks in stubborn fight engag\u2019d.\nBut Panthous\u2019 son a swift avenger came,\nPolydamas, with brandish\u2019d spear, and struck\nThrough the right shoulder Prothoenor, son\nOf Areilycus; right through was driv\u2019n\nThe sturdy spear; he, rolling in the dust,\nClutch\u2019d with his palms the ground; then, shouting loud,\nThus with triumphant boast Polydamas:\n\n\u201cFrom the strong hand of Panthous\u2019 noble son\nMethinks that not in vain the spear has flown:\nA Greek now bears it off; and he, perchance,\nMay use it as a staff to Pluto\u2019s realm.\u201d\n\nThus he; the Greeks with pain his vaunting heard;\nBut chief it rous\u2019d the spirit within the breast\nOf Ajax Telamon, whom close beside\nThe dead had fall\u2019n; he at Polydamas,\nRetreating, hurl\u2019d in haste his glitt\u2019ring spear;\nHe, springing sideways, \u2019scap\u2019d the stroke of fate;\nBut young Archilochus, Antenor\u2019s son,\nReceiv\u2019d the spear, for Heav\u2019n had will\u2019d his death:\nThe spine it struck, the topmost joint, where met\nThe head and neck, and both the tendons broke;\nForward he fell; and ere or knee or leg,\nHis head, and mouth, and nostrils struck the ground.\n\nThen Ajax, in his turn, exulting, thus:\n\u201cSay now, Polydamas, and tell me true,\nMay this be deem\u2019d for Prothoenor\u2019s death\nA full equivalent? no common man\nHe seems, and born of no ignoble race;\nValiant Antenor\u2019s brother, or perchance\nHis son; the likeness speaks him near akin.\u201d\n\nThus he, though well he knew; then bitter grief\nPossess\u2019d the Trojans\u2019 souls; but Acamas,\nGuarding his brother\u2019s body, with his spear\nSlew the B\u0153otian Promachus, who fain\nWould by the feet have drawn away the dead:\nThen Acamas, exulting, cried aloud:\n\n\u201cYe wretched Greeks, in boasting measureless!\nNot ours alone the labour and the loss\nOf battle; ye too have your share of death.\nBehold where lies your Promachus, subdued\nBeneath my spear; not long unpaid the debt\nDue for my brother\u2019s blood! \u2019Tis well for him\nWho leaves a brother to avenge his fate.\u201d\n\nThus he; the Greeks with pain his vaunting heard;\nBut chief it rous\u2019d the spirit within the breast\nOf Peneleus; on Acamas he sprang,\nWho waited not th\u2019 encounter; next he slew\nIlioneus, the son of Phorbas, Lord\nOf num\u2019rous flocks, of all the Trojans most\nBelov\u2019d of Hermes, who his wealth increas\u2019d.\nTo him Ilioneus, an only son,\nHis mother bore; who now, beneath the brow\nAnd through the socket of the eye was struck,\nThrusting the eyeball out; for through the eye,\nAnd backward through the head, the spear was driv\u2019n:\nWith hands extended, down to earth he sank;\nBut Peneleus his weighty sword let fall\nFull on his neck; the sever\u2019d head and helm\nTogether fell, remaining still infix\u2019d\nThe sturdy spear; then he, the gory head\nUplifting, to the Trojans vaunting cried:\n\n\u201cGo now, ye Trojans! bid that in the house\nOf brave Ilioneus his parents raise\nThe voice of wailing for their gallant son;\nAs neither shall the wife of Promachus,\nThe son of Alegenor, with glad smile\nHer husband\u2019s coming hail, when home from Troy\nWe sons of Greece, with vict\u2019ry crown\u2019d, return.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, pale fear possess\u2019d them all,\nEach looking round to seek escape from death.\n\nSay now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell,\nWho, when th\u2019 Earth-shaker turn\u2019d the tide of war,\nFirst bore away his foeman\u2019s bloody spoils?\n\nGreat Ajax Telamon first Hyrtius smote,\nThe son of Gyrtius, who to battle led\nThe warlike Mysians; next Antilochus\nFrom Mermerus and Phalces stripp\u2019d their arms;\nMeriones Hippotion gave to death,\nAnd Morys; Teucer Periphetes slew,\nAnd Prothoon; Menelaus, through the flank\nSmote Hyperenor; as the grinding spear\nDrain\u2019d all his vitals, through the gaping wound\nHis spirit escap\u2019d, and darkness clos\u2019d his eyes.\nBut chiefest slaughter of the Trojans wrought\nOileus\u2019 active son; of all the Greeks\nNo foot so swift as his, when Jove had fill\u2019d\nTheir souls with fear, to chase the flying foe.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE FIFTH BATTLE, AT THE SHIPS; AND THE ACTS OF AJAX.\n\n\nJupiter, awaking, sees the Trojans repulsed from the trenches, Hector\nin a swoon, and Neptune at the head of the Greeks; he is highly\nincensed at the artifice of Juno, who appeases him by her submissions;\nshe is then sent to Iris and Apollo. Juno, repairing to the assembly of\nthe gods, attempts with extraordinary address to incense them against\nJupiter; in particular she touches Mars with a violent resentment; he\nis ready to take arms, but is prevented by Minerva. Iris and Apollo\nobey the orders of Jupiter; Iris commands Neptune to leave the battle,\nto which, after much reluctance and passion, he consents. Apollo\nreinspires Hector with vigour, brings him back to the battle, marches\nbefore him with his aegis, and turns the fortune of the fight. He\nbreaks down the first part of the Grecian wall; the Trojans rush in,\nand attempt to fire the first line of the fleet, but are yet repelled\nby the greater Ajax with a prodigious slaughter.\n\nBOOK XV.\n\nNow when the Trojans had recross\u2019d the trench\nAnd palisades, and in their headlong flight\nMany had fall\u2019n by Grecian swords, the rest,\nRouted, and pale with fear, made head awhile\nBeside their cars; then Jove on Ida\u2019s height\nAt golden-throned Juno\u2019s side awoke;\nRising, he saw the Trojans and the Greeks,\nThose in confusion, while behind them press\u2019d\nThe Greeks, triumphant, Neptune in their midst:\nHe saw too Hector stretch\u2019d upon the plain,\nHis comrades standing round; senseless he lay,\nDrawing short breath, blood gushing from his mouth;\nFor by no feeble hand the blow was dealt.\n\nPitying, the Sire of Gods and men beheld,\nAnd thus, with sternest glance, to Juno spoke:\n\u201cThis, Juno, is thy work! thy wicked wiles\nHave Hector quell\u2019d, and Trojans driv\u2019n to flight:\nNor know I but thyself mayst reap the fruit,\nBy shameful scourging, of thy vile deceit.\nHast thou forgotten how in former times\nI hung thee from on high, and to thy feet\nAttach\u2019d two pond\u2019rous anvils, and thy hands\nWith golden fetters bound, which none might break?\nThere didst thou hang amid the clouds of Heav\u2019n;\nThrough all Olympus\u2019 breadth the Gods were wroth;\nYet dar\u2019d not one approach to set thee free.\nIf any so had ventur\u2019d, him had I\nHurl\u2019d from Heav\u2019n\u2019s threshold till to earth he fell,\nWith little left of life. Yet was not quench\u2019d\nMy wrath on godlike Hercules\u2019 account,\nWhom thou, with Boreas, o\u2019er the wat\u2019ry waste\nWith fell intent didst send; and tempest-toss\u2019d,\nCast him ashore on Coos\u2019 fruitful isle.\nI rescued him from thence, and brought him back,\nAfter long toil, to Argos\u2019 grassy plains.\nThis to thy mind I bring, that thou mayst learn\nTo cease thy treach\u2019rous wiles, nor hope to gain\nBy all thy lavish\u2019d blandishments of love,\nWherewith thou hast deceived me, and betray\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said; and terror seiz\u2019d the stag-ey\u2019d Queen;\nWho thus with winged words address\u2019d her Lord:\n\n\u201cBy Earth I swear, and yon broad Heav\u2019n above,\nAnd Stygian stream beneath, the weightiest oath\nOf solemn pow\u2019r to bind the blessed Gods;\nBy thine own sacred head, our nuptial bed,\nWhose holy tie I never could forswear;\nThat not by my suggestion and advice\nEarth-shaking Neptune on the Trojan host,\nAnd Hector, pours his wrath, and aids the Greeks;\nIn this he but obeys his own desire,\nWho looks with pity on the Grecian host\nBeside their ships o\u2019erborne; and could my words\nPrevail, my counsel were to shape his course,\nO cloud-girt King, obedient to thy will.\u201d\n\nShe said; the Sire of Gods and men, well pleas\u2019d,\nHer answer heard, and thus with gracious smile:\n\n\u201cIf, stag-ey\u2019d Queen, in synod of the Gods\nThy counsels shall indeed with mine agree,\nNeptune, how strong soe\u2019er his wish, must change\nHis course, obedient to thy will and mine;\nAnd if in all sincerity thou speak,\nGo to th\u2019 assembled Gods, and hither send\nIris, and Phoebus of the silver bow;\nThat she may to the Grecian camp repair,\nAnd bid that Neptune from the battle-field\nWithdraw, and to his own domain retire;\nWhile Phoebus Hector to the fight restores,\nInspiring new-born vigour, and allaying\nThe mortal pains which bow his spirit down:\nThen, heartless fear infusing in the Greeks,\nPut them to flight, that flying they may fall\nBeside Achilles\u2019 ships; his comrade then,\nPatroclus, he shall send to battle forth\nTo be by Hector slain, in front of Troy;\nYet not to fall till many valiant youths\nHave felt his prowess; and, amid the rest,\nMy son, Sarpedon; by his comrade\u2019s death\nEnrag\u2019d, Achilles Hector shall subdue;\nThenceforth my counsel is, that from the ships\nThe Trojan force shall still be backward driv\u2019n,\nUntil at length, by Pallas\u2019 deep designs,\nThe Greeks possess the lofty walls of Troy.\nYet will not I my anger intermit,\nNor suffer other of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nTo aid the Greeks, till Peleus\u2019 son behold\nHis wish accomplish\u2019d, and the boon obtain\u2019d\nI promis\u2019d once, and with a nod confirm\u2019d,\nThat day when sea-born Thetis clasp\u2019d my knees,\nAnd pray\u2019d me to avenge her warrior son.\u201d\n\nThus he; the white-arm\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n submiss\nHis mandate heard; and from th\u2019 Idaean mount\nWith rapid flight to high Olympus sped.\nSwift as the mind of man, who many a land\nHath travell\u2019d o\u2019er, and with reflective thought\nRecalls, \u201chere was I such a day, or here,\u201d\nAnd in a moment many a scene surveys;\nSo Juno sped o\u2019er intervening space;\nOlympus\u2019 heights she reach\u2019d, and in the house\nOf Jove appear\u2019d amid th\u2019 assembled Gods.\nThey at her coming rose, with golden cups\nGreeting their Queen\u2019s approach; the rest she pass\u2019d,\nAnd from the hand of fair-fac\u2019d Themis took\nThe proffer\u2019d cup, who first had run to meet,\nAnd thus with winged words address\u2019d the Queen:\n\u201cJuno, why com\u2019st thou hither? and with looks\nOf one distraught with, fear? hath Saturn\u2019s son,\nThy mighty Lord, thus sore affrighted thee?\u201d\nTo whom the white-arm\u2019d Goddess, Juno, thus:\n\n\u201cForbear thy questions, Themis; well thou know\u2019st\nHow haughty and imperious is his mind;\nThou for the Gods in haste prepare the feast;\nThen shalt thou learn, amid th\u2019 Immortals all,\nWhat evil he designs; nor all, I ween,\nHis counsels will approve, or men, or Gods,\nThough now in blissful ignorance they feast.\u201d\n\nShe said, and sat; the Gods, oppress\u2019d with care,\nHer farther speech awaited; on her lips\nThere dwelt indeed a smile, but not a ray\nPass\u2019d o\u2019er her dark\u2019ning brow, as thus her wrath\nAmid th\u2019 assembled Gods found vent in words:\n\n\u201cFools are we all, who madly strive with Jove,\nOr hope, by access to his throne, to sway,\nBy word or deed, his course; from all apart,\nHe all our counsels heeds not, but derides;\nAnd boasts o\u2019er all th\u2019 immortal Gods to reign\nIn unapproach\u2019d pre-eminence of pow\u2019r.\nPrepare then each his sev\u2019ral woe to bear;\nOn Mars e\u2019en now, methinks, the blow hath fall\u2019n;\nSince in the fight, the man he loves the best,\nAnd boasts his son, Ascalaphus, is slain.\u201d\nShe said; and Mars, enrag\u2019d, his brawny thigh\nSmote with his hands, and thus, lamenting, spoke:\n\n\u201cBlame not, ye Gods, who on Olympus dwell,\nThat to the Grecian ships I haste, to avenge\nMy slaughter\u2019d son, though blasted by Heav\u2019n\u2019s fire\n\u2019Twere mine \u2019mid corpses, blood, and dust to lie.\u201d\n\nHe said, and gave command to Fear and Flight\nTo yoke his car; and donn\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring arms.\nThen from the throne of Jove had heavier wrath\nAnd deeper vengeance on th\u2019 Immortals fall\u2019n,\nBut Pallas, in alarm for all the Gods,\nQuitting in haste the throne whereon she sat,\nSprang past the vestibule, and from his head\nThe helmet lifted, from his arm the shield;\nTook from his sturdy hand, and rear\u2019d upright,\nThe brazen spear; then with reproachful words\nShe thus assail\u2019d th\u2019 impetuous God of War;\n\n\u201cFrantic, and passion-maddened, thou art lost!\nHast thou no ears to hear! or are thy mind\nAnd sense of rev\u2019rence utterly destroyed?\nOr heard\u2019st thou not what white-arm\u2019d Juno spoke,\nFresh from the presence of Olympian Jove?\nWouldst thou, thine evil destiny fulfill\u2019d,\nBy hard constraint, despite thy grief, be driv\u2019n\nBack to Olympus; and to all the rest\nConfusion and disaster with thee bring?\nAt once from valiant Trojans and from Greeks\nHis thoughts would be diverted, and his wrath\nEmbroil Olympus, and on all alike,\nGuilty or not, his anger would be pour\u2019d.\nWaive then thy vengeance for thy gallant son;\nOthers as brave of heart, as strong of arm,\nHave fall\u2019n, and yet must fall; and vain th\u2019 attempt\nTo watch at once o\u2019er all the race of men.\u201d\n\nThus saying, to his seat again she forc\u2019d\nTh\u2019 impetuous Mars: meanwhile, without the house,\nJuno, by Jove\u2019s command, Apollo call\u2019d,\nAnd Iris, messenger from God to God;\nAnd thus to both her winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cJove bids you with all speed to Ida haste;\nAnd when, arriv\u2019d, before his face ye stand,\nWhate\u2019er he orders, that observe and do.\u201d\n\nThus Juno spoke, and to her throne return\u2019d;\nWhile they to spring-abounding Ida\u2019s heights,\nWild nurse of forest beasts, pursued their way;\nTh\u2019 all-seeing son of Saturn there they found\nUpon the topmost crag of Gargarus,\nAn incense-breathing cloud around him spread.\nBefore the face of cloud-compelling Jove\nThey stood; well-pleas\u2019d he witness\u2019d their approach\nIn swift obedience to his consort\u2019s words,\nAnd thus to Iris first his speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cHaste thee, swift Iris, and to Ocean\u2019s King\nMy message bear, nor misreporting aught,\nNor aught omitting; from the battle-field\nBid him retire, and join th\u2019 assembled Gods,\nOr to his own domain of sea withdraw.\nIf my commands he heed not, nor obey,\nLet him consider in his inmost soul\nIf, mighty though he be, he dare await\nMy hostile coming; mightier far than him,\nHis elder born; nor may his spirit aspire\nTo rival me, whom all regard with awe.\u201d\n\nHe said; swift-footed Iris, at the word,\nFrom Ida\u2019s heights to sacred Ilium sped.\nSwift as the snow-flakes from the clouds descend,\nOr wintry hail before the driving blast\nOf Boreas, ether-born; so swift to Earth\nDescended Iris; by his side she stood,\nAnd with these words th\u2019 Earth-shaking God address\u2019d:\n\u201cA message, dark-hair\u2019d Circler of the Earth,\nTo thee I bring from \u00c6gis-bearing Jove.\nHe bids thee straightway from the battle-field\nRetire, and either join th\u2019 assembled Gods,\nOr to thine own domain of sea withdraw.\nIf his commands thou heed not, nor obey,\nHither he menaces himself to come,\nAnd fight against thee; but he warns thee first,\nBeware his arm, as mightier far than thee,\nThine elder born; nor may thy spirit aspire\nTo rival him, whom all regard with awe.\u201d\n\nTo whom in tow\u2019ring wrath th\u2019 Earth-shaking God:\n\u201cBy Heav\u2019n, though great he be, he yet presumes\nSomewhat too far, if me, his equal born,\nHe seeks by force to baffle of my will.\nWe were three brethren, all of Rhaea born\nTo Saturn; Jove and I, and Pluto third,\nWho o\u2019er the nether regions holds his sway.\nThreefold was our partition; each obtain\u2019d\nHis meed of honour due; the hoary Sea\nBy lot my habitation was assign\u2019d;\nThe realms of Darkness fell to Pluto\u2019s share;\nBroad Heav\u2019n, amid the sky and clouds, to Jove;\nBut Earth, and high Olympus, are to all\nA common heritage; nor will I walk\nTo please the will of Jove; though great he be,\nWith his own third contented let him rest:\nNor let him think that I, as wholly vile,\nShall quail before his arm; his lofty words\nWere better to his daughters and his sons\nAddress\u2019d, his own begotten; who perforce\nMust listen to his mandates, and obey.\u201d\n\nTo whom swift-footed Iris thus replied:\n\u201cIs this, then, dark-hair\u2019d Circler of the Earth,\nThe message, stern and haughty, which to Jove\nThou bidd\u2019st me bear? perchance thine angry mood\nMay bend to better counsels; noblest minds\nAre easiest bent; and o\u2019er superior age\nThou know\u2019st th\u2019 avenging Furies ever watch.\u201d\n\nTo whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied:\n\u201cImmortal Iris, weighty are thy words,\nAnd in good season spoken; and \u2019tis well\nWhen envoys are by sound discretion led.\nYet are my heart and mind with grief oppress\u2019d,\nWhen me, his equal both by birth and fate,\nHe seeks with haughty words to overbear.\nI yield, but with indignant sense of wrong.\nThis too I say, nor shall my threat be vain:\nLet him remember, if in my despite,\n\u2019Gainst Pallas\u2019, Juno\u2019s, Hermes\u2019, Vulcan\u2019s will,\nHe spare to overthrow proud Ilium\u2019s tow\u2019rs,\nAnd crown with victory the Grecian arms,\nThe feud between us never can be heal\u2019d.\u201d\n\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaker said, and from the field withdrew\nBeneath the ocean wave, the warrior Greeks\nHis loss deploring; to Apollo then\nThe Cloud-compeller thus his speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cGo straight to Hector of the brazen helm,\nGood Phoebus; for beneath the ocean wave\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaker hath withdrawn, escaping thus\nMy high displeasure; had he dar\u2019d resist,\nThe tumult of our strife had reach\u2019d the Gods\nWho in the nether realms with Saturn dwell.\nYet thus \u2019tis better, both for me and him,\nThat, though indignant, to my will he yields;\nFor to compel him were no easy task.\nTake thou, and wave on high thy tassell\u2019d shield,\nThe Grecian warriors daunting: thou thyself,\nFar-darting King, thy special care bestow\nOn noble Hector; so restore his strength\nAnd vigour, that in panic to their ships,\nAnd the broad Hellespont, the Greeks be driv\u2019n.\nThen will I so by word and deed contrive\nThat they may gain fresh respite from their toil.\u201d\n\nHe said, nor did Apollo not obey\nHis Sire\u2019s commands; from Ida\u2019s heights he flew,\nLike to a falcon, swooping on a dove,\nSwiftest of birds; then Priam\u2019s son he found,\nThe godlike Hector, stretch\u2019d at length no more,\nBut sitting, now to consciousness restor\u2019d,\nWith recognition looking on his friends;\nThe cold sweat dried, nor gasping now for breath,\nSince by the will of \u00c6gis-bearing Jove\nTo life new waken\u2019d; close beside him stood\nThe Far-destroyer, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cHector, thou son of Priam, why apart\nFrom all thy comrades art thou sitting here,\nFeeble and faint? What trouble weighs thee down?\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm\nWith falt\u2019ring voice: \u201cWho art thou, Prince of Gods,\nWho thus enquirest of me? know\u2019st thou not\nHow a huge stone, by mighty Ajax hurl\u2019d,\nAs on his comrades by the Grecian ships\nI dealt destruction, struck me on the breast,\nDash\u2019d to the earth, and all my vigour quell\u2019d?\nI deem\u2019d in sooth this day my soul, expir\u2019d,\nShould see the dead, and Pluto\u2019s shadowy realm.\u201d\n\nTo whom again the far-destroying King:\n\u201cBe of good cheer; from Saturn\u2019s son I come\nFrom Ida\u2019s height to be thy guide and guard;\nPhoebus Apollo, of the golden sword,\nI, who of old have thy protector been,\nThee and thy city guarding. Rise then straight;\nSummon thy num\u2019rous horsemen; bid them drive\nTheir flying cars to assail the Grecian ships:\nI go before: and will thy horses\u2019 way\nMake plain and smooth, and daunt the warrior Greeks.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh vigour in the chief infus\u2019d.\nAs some proud steed, at well-fill\u2019d manger fed,\nHis halter broken, neighing, scours the plain,\nAnd revels in the widely-flowing stream\nTo bathe his sides; then tossing high his head,\nWhile o\u2019er his shoulders streams his ample mane,\nLight-borne on active limbs, in conscious pride,\nTo the wide pastures of the mares he flies;\nSo vig\u2019rous, Hector plied his active limbs,\nHis horsemen summoning at Heav\u2019n\u2019s command.\n\nAs when a rustic crowd of men and dogs\nHave chas\u2019d an antler\u2019d stag, or mountain goat,\nThat \u2019mid the crags and thick o\u2019ershadowing wood\nHath refuge found, and baffled their pursuit:\nIf, by the tumult rous\u2019d, a lion stand,\nWith bristling mane, before them, back they turn,\nCheck\u2019d in their mid career; ev\u2019n so the Greeks,\nWho late in eager throngs were pressing on,\nThrusting with swords and double-pointed spears,\nWhen Hector moving through the ranks they saw,\nRecoil\u2019d, and to their feet their courage fell.\nTo whom thus Thoas spoke, Andraemon\u2019s son,\n\u00c6tolia\u2019s bravest warrior, skill\u2019d to throw\nThe jav\u2019lin, dauntless in the stubborn fight;\nBy few surpass\u2019d in speech, when in debate\nIn full assembly Grecian youths contend.\nHe thus with prudent speech began, and said:\n\n\u201cGreat is the marvel which our eyes behold,\nThat Hector see again to life restor\u2019d,\nEscap\u2019d the death we hop\u2019d him to have met\nBeneath the hands of Ajax Telamon.\nSome God hath been his guard, and Hector sav\u2019d,\nWhose arm hath slack\u2019d the knees of many a Greek:\nSo will he now; for not without the aid\nOf Jove, the Lord of thunder, doth he stand\nSo boldly forth, so eager for the fight.\nHear, then, and all by my advice be rul\u2019d:\nBack to the ships dismiss the gen\u2019ral crowd;\nWhile of our army we, the foremost men,\nStand fast, and meeting him with levell\u2019d spears,\nHold him in check; and he, though brave, may fear\nTo throw himself amid our serried ranks.\u201d\n\nHe said: they heard, and all obey\u2019d his words:\nThe mighty Ajax, and Idomeneus\nThe King, and Teucer, and Meriones,\nAnd Meges, bold as Mars, with all their best,\nTheir stedfast battle rang\u2019d, to wait th\u2019 assault\nOf Hector and his Trojans; while behind,\nTh\u2019 unwarlike many to the ships retir\u2019d.\nThe Trojan mass came on, by Hector led\nWith haughty stride; before him Phoebus went,\nHis shoulders veil\u2019d in cloud; his arm sustain\u2019d\nThe awful \u00c6gis, dread to look on, hung\nWith shaggy tassels round and dazzling bright;\nWhich Vulcan, skilful workman, gave to Jove,\nTo scatter terror \u2019mid the souls of men.\nThis on his arm, the Trojan troops he led.\nFirm stood the mass of Greeks; from either side\nShrill clamours rose; and fast from many a string\nThe arrows flew, and many a jav\u2019lin, hurl\u2019d\nBy vig\u2019rous arms; some buried in the flesh\nOf stalwart youths, and many, ere they reach\u2019d\nTheir living mark, fell midway on the plain,\nFix\u2019d in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.\nWhile Phoebus motionless his \u00c6gis held,\nThick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell\nOn either side; but when he turn\u2019d its flash\nFull in the faces of the astonish\u2019d Greeks,\nAnd shouted loud, their spirits within them quail\u2019d,\nTheir fiery courage borne in mind no more.\nAs when two beasts of prey, at dead of night.\nWith sudden onset scatter wide a herd\nOf oxen, or a num\u2019rous flock of sheep,\nTheir keepers absent; so unnerv\u2019d by fear\nThe Greeks dispers\u2019d; such panic \u2019mid their ranks,\nThat vict\u2019ry so might crown the Trojan arms,\nApollo sent; and as the masses broke,\nEach Trojan slew his man; by Hector\u2019s hand\nFell Stichius and Arcesilas; the one,\nThe leader of B\u0153otia\u2019s brass-clad host,\nThe other, brave Menestheus\u2019 trusted friend.\n\u00c6neas Medon slew, and Iasus;\nMedon, the great Oileus\u2019 bastard son,\nBrother of Ajax; he in Phylace,\nFar from his native home, was driv\u2019n to dwell;\nSince one to Eriopis near akin,\nHis sire Oileus\u2019 wife, his hand had slain:\nAnd Iasus, th\u2019 Athenian chief, was deem\u2019d\nThe son of Sphelus, son of Bucolus.\nPolydamas amid the foremost ranks\nMecistes slew, Polites Echius,\nAgenor Olonius; while from Paris\u2019 hand\nAn arrow, \u2019mid the crowd of fugitives\nShot from behind, beneath the shoulder struck\nDeiocus, and through his chest was driv\u2019n:\nThese while the Trojans of their arms despoil\u2019d,\nThrough ditch and palisades promiscuous dash\u2019d\nThe flying Greeks, and gain\u2019d, hard-press\u2019d, the wall;\nWhile loudly Hector to the Trojans call\u2019d\nTo assail the ships, and leave the bloody spoils:\n\u201cWhom I elsewhere, and from the ships aloof\nShall find, my hand shall doom him on the spot;\nFor him no fun\u2019ral pyre his kin shall light,\nOr male or female; but before the wall\nOur city\u2019s dogs his mangled flesh shall tear.\u201d\n\nHe said; and on his horses\u2019 shoulder point\nLet fall the lash, and loudly through the ranks\nCall\u2019d on the Trojans; they, with answ\u2019ring shout\nAnd noise unspeakable, urg\u2019d on with him\nTheir harness\u2019d steeds; Apollo, in the van,\nTrod down with ease th\u2019 embankment of the ditch,\nAnd fill\u2019d it in; and o\u2019er it bridg\u2019d a way\nLevel and wide, far as a jav\u2019lin\u2019s flight\nHurl\u2019d by an arm that proves its utmost strength.\nO\u2019er this their columns pass\u2019d; Apollo bore\nHis \u00c6gis o\u2019er them, and cast down the wall;\nEasy, as when a child upon the beach,\nIn wanton play, with hands and feet o\u2019erthrows\nThe mound of sand, which late in play he rais\u2019d;\nSo, Phoebus, thou, the Grecian toil and pains\nConfounding, sentest panic through their souls.\nThus hemm\u2019d beside the ships they made their stand,\nWhile each exhorted each, and all, with hands\nOutstretch\u2019d, to ev\u2019ry God address\u2019d their pray\u2019r:\nAnd chief, Gerenian Nestor, prop of Greece,\nWith hands uplifted tow\u2019rd the starry Heav\u2019n:\n\n\u201cO Father Jove! if any e\u2019er to Thee\nOn corn-clad plains of Argos burnt the fat\nOf bulls and sheep, and offer\u2019d up his pray\u2019r\nFor safe return; and thine assenting nod\nConfirm\u2019d thy promise; O remember now\nHis pray\u2019r; stave off the pitiless day of doom,\nNor let the Greeks to Trojan arms succumb.\u201d\n\nThus Nestor pray\u2019d; loud thunder\u2019d from on high\nThe Lord of counsel, as he heard the pray\u2019r\nOf Neleus\u2019 aged son; with double zeal,\nThe Trojans, as the mind of Jove they knew,\nPress\u2019d on the Greeks, with warlike ardour fir\u2019d.\nAs o\u2019er the bulwarks of a ship pour down\nThe mighty billows of the wide-path\u2019d sea,\nDriv\u2019n by the blast, that tosses high the waves,\nSo down the wall, with shouts, the Trojans pour\u2019d;\nThe cars admitted, by the ships they fought\nWith double-pointed spears, and hand to hand;\nThese on their chariots, on the lofty decks\nOf their dark vessels those, with pond\u2019rous spars\nWhich on the ships were stor\u2019d for naval war,\nCompact and strong, their heads encas\u2019d in brass.\n\nWhile yet beyond the ships, about the wall\nThe Greeks and Trojans fought, Patroclus still\nWithin the tent of brave Eurypylus\nRemaining, with his converse sooth\u2019d the chief,\nAnd healing unguents to his wound applied,\nOf pow\u2019r to charm away the bitter pains;\nBut when the Trojans pouring o\u2019er the wall,\nAnd routed Greeks in panic flight he saw,\nDeeply he groan\u2019d, and smiting on his thigh\nWith either palm, in anguish thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cEurypylus, how great soe\u2019er thy need,\nI can no longer stay; so fierce the storm\nOf battle rages; but th\u2019 attendants\u2019 care\nWill all thy wants supply; while I in haste\nAchilles seek, and urge him to the war;\nWho knows but Heav\u2019n may grant me to succeed?\nFor great is oft a friend\u2019s persuasive pow\u2019r.\u201d\nHe said, and quickly on his errand sped.\n\nMeanwhile the Greeks, in firm array, endur\u2019d\nThe onset of the Trojans; nor could these\nThe assailants, though in numbers less, repel;\nNor those again the Grecian masses break,\nAnd force their passage through the ships and tents,\nAs by a rule, in cunning workman\u2019s hand,\nWho all his art by Pallas\u2019 aid has learnt,\nA vessel\u2019s plank is smooth and even laid,\nSo level lay the balance of the fight.\nOthers round other ships maintain\u2019d the war,\nBut Hector that of Ajax sought alone.\nFor that one ship they two unwearied toil\u2019d;\nNor Hector Ajax from his post could move,\nAnd burn the ship with fire; nor he repel\nThe foe who came protected by a God.\nThen noble Ajax with his jav\u2019lin smote\nCaletor, son of Clytius, through the breast,\nAs tow\u2019rd the ship a blazing torch he bore;\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and dropp\u2019d his hand the torch.\nBut Hector, when his eyes his kinsman saw\nBy the dark vessel, prostrate in the dust,\nOn Trojans and on Lycians call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, in this press of war\nSlack not your efforts; haste to save the son\nOf Clytius, nor let Greeks his arms possess,\nWho \u2019mid their throng of ships has nobly fall\u2019n.\u201d\nAt Ajax, as he spoke, his gleaming spear\nHe threw, but miss\u2019d his aim; yet Lycophron,\nHis comrade, of Cythera, Mastor\u2019s son\n(Who flying from Cythera\u2019s lovely isle\nWith guilt of bloodshed, near to Ajax dwelt),\nStanding beside the chief, above the ear\nHe struck, and pierc\u2019d the brain: from the tall prow\nBackwards he fell, his limbs relax\u2019d in death.\nThen Ajax, shudd\u2019ring, on his brother call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cGood Teucer, we have lost a faithful friend,\nThe son of Mastor, our Cytheran guest,\nWhom as a father all rever\u2019d; who now\nLies slain by noble Hector. Where are then\nThine arrows, swift-wing\u2019d messengers of fate,\nAnd where thy trusty bow, Apollo\u2019s gift?\u201d\n\nThus Ajax; Teucer heard, and ran in haste,\nAnd stood beside him, with his bended bow,\nAnd well-stor\u2019d quiver: on the Trojans fast\nHe pour\u2019d his shafts; and struck Pisenor\u2019s son,\nClitus, the comrade of Polydamas,\nThe noble son of Panthous; he the reins\nHeld in his hand, and all his care bestow\u2019d\nTo guide his horses; for, where\u2019er the throng\nWas thickest, there in Hector\u2019s cause, and Troy\u2019s,\nHe still was found; but o\u2019er him hung the doom\nWhich none might turn aside; for from behind\nThe fateful arrow struck him through the neck;\nDown from the car he fell; swerving aside,\nThe startled horses whirl\u2019d the empty car.\nThem first the King Polydamas beheld,\nAnd stay\u2019d their course; to Protiaon\u2019s son,\nAstynous, then he gave them, with command\nTo keep good watch, and still be near at hand;\nThen \u2019mid the foremost join\u2019d again the fray.\nAgain at Hector of the brazen helm\nAn arrow Teucer aim\u2019d; and had the shaft\nThe life of Hector quench\u2019d in mid career,\nNot long the fight had rag\u2019d around the ships:\nBut Jove\u2019s all-seeing eye beheld, who watch\u2019d\nO\u2019er Hector\u2019s life, and Teucer\u2019s hopes deceiv\u2019d.\nThe bow\u2019s well-twisted string he snapp\u2019d in twain,\nAs Teucer drew; the brass-tipp\u2019d arrow flew\nWide of the mark, and dropp\u2019d his hand the bow.\nThen to his brother, all aghast, he cried:\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n, some God our best-laid schemes of war\nConfounds, who from my hand hath, wrench\u2019d the bow,\nAnd snapp\u2019d the newly-twisted string, which I\nBut late attach\u2019d, my swift-wing\u2019d shafts to bear.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus great Ajax Telamon:\n\u201cO friend, leave there thine arrows and thy bow,\nMarr\u2019d by some God who grudges our renown;\nBut take in hand thy pond\u2019rous spear, and cast\nThy shield about thy shoulders, and thyself\nStand forth, and urge the rest, to face the foe.\nLet us not tamely yield, if yield we must,\nOur well-built ships, but nobly dare the fight.\u201d\n\n\u201cThus Ajax spoke; and Teucer in the tent\nBestowed his bow, and o\u2019er his shoulders threw\nHis fourfold shield; and on his firm-set head\nA helm he plac\u2019d, well-wrought, with horsehair plume,\nThat nodded, fearful, o\u2019er his brow; his hand\nGrasp\u2019d the firm spear, with sharpen\u2019d point of brass:\nThen ran, and swiftly stood by Ajax\u2019 side.\nHector meanwhile, who saw the weapon marr\u2019d,\nTo Trojans and to Lycians call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, quit ye now like men;\nAgainst the ships your wonted valour show.\nE\u2019en now, before our eyes, hath Jove destroy\u2019d\nA chieftain\u2019s weapon. Easy \u2019tis to trace\nO\u2019er human wars th\u2019 o\u2019erruling hand of Jove,\nTo whom he gives the prize of victory,\nAnd whom, withholding aid, he minishes,\nAs now the Greeks, while we his favour gain.\nPour then your force united on the ships;\nAnd if there be among you, who this day\nShall meet his doom, by sword or arrow slain,\nE\u2019en let him die! a glorious death is his\nWho for his country falls; and dying, leaves\nPreserv\u2019d from danger, children, wife, and home,\nHis heritage uninjur\u2019d, when the Greeks\nEmbarking hence shall take their homeward way.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast.\nAjax, on th\u2019 other side, address\u2019d the Greeks:\n\n\u201cShame on ye, Greeks! this very hour decides\nIf we must perish, or be sav\u2019d, and ward\nDestruction from our ships; and can ye hope\nThat each, if Hector of the glancing helm\nShall burn our ships, on foot can reach his home?\nOr hear ye not, how, burning to destroy\nOur vessels, Hector cheers his forces on?\nNot to the dance, but to the fight he calls;\nNor better counsel can for us be found,\nThan in close fight with heart and hand to join.\n\u2019Twere better far at once to die, than live\nHemm\u2019d in and straiten\u2019d thus, in dire distress,\nClose to our ships, by meaner men beset.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast.\nThen Hector Schedius, Perimedes\u2019 son,\nThe Thracian leader, slew; on th\u2019 other side\nAjax the captain of the foot o\u2019ercame,\nLaodamas, Antenor\u2019s noble son;\nWhile of his arms Polydamas despoil\u2019d\nCyllenian Otus, friend of Phyleus\u2019 son,\nThe proud Epeians\u2019 leader; Meges saw,\nAnd rush\u2019d upon him; but Polydamas,\nStooping, the blow evaded; him he miss\u2019d;\nFor Phoebus will\u2019d not Panthous\u2019 son should fall\nIn the front rank contending; but the spear\nSmote Croesmus through the breast; thund\u2019ring he fell,\nAnd from his corpse the victor stripp\u2019d his arms.\nHim Dolops, son of Lampus, spearman skill\u2019d,\nWell train\u2019d in ev\u2019ry point of war, assail\u2019d\n(The son of Lampus he, the prince of men,\nSon of Laomedon); from close at hand\nForward he sprang, and thrust at Meges\u2019 shield;\nBut him the solid corslet which he wore,\nWith breast and back-piece fitted, sav\u2019d from harm:*\nThe corslet Phyleus brought from Ephyra,\nBy Selles\u2019 stream; Euphetes, King of men,\nBestow\u2019d it as a friendly gift, to wear\nIn battle for a guard from hostile spears;\nWhich from destruction now preserv\u2019d his son.\nNext Meges struck, with keen-edg\u2019d spear, the crown\nOf Dolops\u2019 brass-bound, horsehair-crested helm,\nSev\u2019ring the horsehair plume, which, brilliant late\nWith crimson dye, now lay defil\u2019d in dust.\nYet fought he on, and still for vict\u2019ry hop\u2019d;\nBut warlike Menelaus to the aid\nOf Meges came; of Dolops unobserv\u2019d\nHe stood, and from behind his shoulder pierc\u2019d;\nThe point, its course pursuing, through his breast\nWas driv\u2019n, and headlong on his face he fell.\nForthwith, advanc\u2019d the two to seize the spoils;\nBut loudly Hector on his kinsmen call\u2019d;\nOn all, but chief on Icetaon\u2019s son,\nThe valiant Melanippus; he erewhile,\nIn far Percote, ere the foes appear\u2019d,\nPastur\u2019d his herds; but when the ships of Greece\nApproach\u2019d the shore, to Ilium back he came;\nThere, \u2019mid the Trojans eminent, he dwelt\nIn Priam\u2019s house, belov\u2019d as Priam\u2019s son.\nHim Hector call\u2019d by name, and thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhy, Melanippus, stand we idly thus?\nDoth not thy slaughter\u2019d kinsmen touch thy heart?\nSee how they rush on Dolops\u2019 arms to seize;\nThen on! no distant war must now be wag\u2019d,\nBut hand to hand, till or the Greeks be slain,\nOr lofty Troy, with all her children, fall.\u201d\n\nHe said, and led the way; him follow\u2019d straight\nThe godlike chief; great Ajax Telamon\nMeanwhile the Greeks encourag\u2019d to the fight,\nAnd cried, \u201cBrave comrades, quit ye now like men;\nBear a stout heart; and in the stubborn fight\nLet each to other mutual succour give;\nBy mutual succour more are sav\u2019d than fall;\nIn timid flight nor fame nor safety lies.\u201d\n\nHe said; and pond\u2019ring well his words, they stood,\nFirm in defence; as with a wall of brass\nThe ships they guarded; though against them Jove\nLed on the Trojans; Menelaus then\nWith stirring words Antilochus address\u2019d:\n\u201cAntilochus, than thou, of all the Greeks\nIs none more active, or more light of foot;\nNone stronger hurls the spear; then from the crowd\nSpring forth, and aim to reach some Trojan\u2019s life.\u201d\n\nThus saying, he withdrew; fir\u2019d by his words,\nForth sprang the youth, and pois\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear,\nGlancing around him; back the Trojans drew\nBefore his aim; nor flew the spear in vain;\nBut through the breast it pierc\u2019d, as on he came,\nBrave Melanippus, Icetaon\u2019s son.\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\nForth sprang Antilochus, as springs a hound\nUpon a fawn, which from its lair disturb\u2019d\nA hunter\u2019s shaft has struck, and quell\u2019d its pow\u2019rs;\nSo, Melanippus, sprang to seize thy spoils\nThe stout Antilochus; but not unmark\u2019d\nOf Hector\u2019s eye, who, hast\u2019ning through the press,\nAdvanc\u2019d to meet him; waited not th\u2019 attack,\nBold warrior as he was, Antilochus,\nBut trembling fled: as when a beast of prey,\nConscious of evil deed, amid the herd\nThe guardian dog or herdsman\u2019s self has slain,\nAnd flies, ere yet th\u2019 avenging crowd collect;\nSo fled the son of Nestor; onward press\u2019d,\nBy Hector led, the Trojans; loud their shouts,\nAs on the Greeks their murd\u2019rous shafts they pour\u2019d:\nYet turn\u2019d he, when his comrades\u2019 ranks he reach\u2019d.\nThen on the ships, as rav\u2019ning lions, fell\nThe Trojans: they but work\u2019d the will of Jove,\nWho still their courage rais\u2019d, and quell\u2019d the Greeks;\nOf vict\u2019ry these debarr\u2019d, and those inspir\u2019d;\nFor so he will\u2019d, that Hector, Priam\u2019s son,\nShould wrap in fire the beaked ships of Greece,\nAnd Thetis to the uttermost obtain\nHer over-bold petition; yet did Jove,\nThe Lord of counsel, wait but to behold\nThe flames ascending from the blazing ships:\nFor from that hour the Trojans, backward driv\u2019n,\nShould to the Greeks the final triumph leave.\nWith such design, to seize the ships, he fir\u2019d\nTh\u2019 already burning zeal of Priam\u2019s son;\nFiercely he rag\u2019d, as terrible as Mars\nWith brandish\u2019d spear; or as a raging fire\n\u2019Mid the dense thickets on the mountain side.\nThe foam was on his lips; bright flash\u2019d his eyes\nBeneath his awful brows, and terribly\nAbove his temples wav\u2019d amid the fray\nThe helm of Hector; Jove himself from Heav\u2019n.\nHis guardian hand extending, him alone\nWith glory crowning \u2019mid the host of men;\nBut short his term of glory: for the day\nWas fast approaching, when, with Pallas\u2019 aid,\nThe might of Peleus\u2019 son should work his doom.\nOft he essay\u2019d to break the ranks, where\u2019er\nThe densest and throng noblest arms he saw;\nBut strenuous though his efforts, all were vain:\nThey, mass\u2019d in close array, his charge withstood;\nFirm as a craggy rock, upstanding high,\nClose by the hoary sea, which meets unmov\u2019d\nThe boist\u2019rous currents of the whistling winds,\nAnd the big waves that bellow round its base;\nSo stood unmov\u2019d the Greeks, and undismay\u2019d.\nAt length, all blazing in his arms, he sprang\nUpon the mass; so plunging down, as when\nOn some tall vessel, from beneath the clouds\nA giant billow, tempest-nurs\u2019d, descends;\nThe deck is drench\u2019d in foam; the stormy wind\nHowls in the shrouds; th\u2019 affrighted seamen quail\nIn fear, but little way from death remov\u2019d;\nSo quail\u2019d the spirit in ev\u2019ry Grecian breast.\n\nAs when a rav\u2019ning lion on a herd\nOf heifers falls, which on some marshy mead\nFeed numberless, beneath the care of one,\nUnskill\u2019d from beasts of prey to guard his charge;\nAnd while beside the front or rear he walks,\nThe lion on th\u2019 unguarded centre springs,\nSeizes on one, and scatters all the rest;\nSo Hector, led by Jove, in wild alarm\nScatter\u2019d the Grecians all; but one alone,\nBrave Periphetes, of Mycen\u00e6, slew;\nThe son of Copreus, whom Eurystheus sent\nHis envoy to the might of Hercules;\nFar nobler than the father was the son;\nIn speed of foot, in warlike might, in mind,\nIn all, among Mycenians foremost he;\nWho now on Hector fresh renown conferr\u2019d;\nFor, backward as he stepp\u2019d, against the rim\nOf the broad shield which for defence he bore,\nDown reaching to his feet, he tripp\u2019d, and thus\nEntangled, backward fell; and as he fell,\nAround his temples clatter\u2019d loud his helm.\nHector beheld, and o\u2019er him stood in haste,\nAnd with his spear transfix\u2019d his breast, and slew\nBefore his comrades\u2019 eyes; yet dar\u2019d not one,\nThough grieving for their comrade\u2019s loss, advance\nTo rescue; such of Hector was their awe.\nThey fronted now the ships; the leading prows\nWhich first were drawn on shore, still barr\u2019d their way;\nYet on they stream\u2019d; and from the foremost ships,\nNow hardly press\u2019d, the Greeks perforce retir\u2019d;\nBut closely mass\u2019d before the tents they stood,\nNot scatter\u2019d o\u2019er the camp; by shame restrain\u2019d,\nAnd fear; and loudly each exhorted each.\nGerenian Nestor chief, the prop of Greece,\nThus by their fathers singly each adjur\u2019d:\n\u201cQuit ye like men, dear friends; and think it shame\nTo forfeit now the praise of other men;\nLet each man now his children and his wife,\nHis fortunes and his parents, bear in mind;\nAnd not the living only, but the dead;\nFor them, the absent, I, your suppliant, pray,\nThat firm ye stand, and scorn disgraceful flight.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast;\nAnd from their eyeballs Pallas purg\u2019d away\nThe film of darkness; and on ev\u2019ry side,\nBoth tow\u2019rd the ships and tow\u2019rd the level fight,\nClear light diffus\u2019d; there Hector they discern\u2019d,\nAnd all his comrades, those who stood aloof,\nAnd those who near the ships maintain\u2019d the war.\nThen was not Ajax\u2019 mighty soul content\nTo stand where stood the other sons of Greece;\nAlong the vessels\u2019 lofty decks he mov\u2019d\nWith haughty stride; a pond\u2019rous boarding-pike,\nWell polish\u2019d, and with rivets well secur\u2019d,\nOf two and twenty cubits\u2019 length, he bore,\nAs one well-skill\u2019d in feats of horsemanship,\nWho from a troop of horses on the plain\nHas parted four, and down the crowded road,\nWhile men and women all in wonder gaze,\nDrives tow\u2019rd the city; and with force untir\u2019d\nFrom one to other springs, as on they fly;\nO\u2019er many a vessel\u2019s deck so Ajax pass\u2019d\nWith lofty stride, and voice that reach\u2019d to Heav\u2019n,\nAs loudly shouting on the Greeks he call\u2019d\nTo save their ships and tents: nor Hector stay\u2019d\nAmid the closely buckler\u2019d Trojan ranks;\nBut, as upon a flock of birds, that feed\nBeside a river\u2019s bank, or geese, or cranes,\nOr long-neck\u2019d swans, a fiery eagle swoops;\nSo on the dark-prow\u2019d ship with furious rush\nSwept Hector down; him Jove with mighty hand\nSustain\u2019d, and with him forward urg\u2019d the crowd.\nFierce round the ships again the battle rag\u2019d;\nWell might ye deem no previous toil had worn\nTheir strength, who in that dread encounter met;\nWith edge so keen, and stubborn will they fought.\nBut varying far their hopes and fears: the Greeks\nOf safety and escape from death despair\u2019d;\nWhile high the hopes in ev\u2019ry Trojan\u2019s breast,\nTo burn the ships, and slay the warlike Greeks;\nSo minded each, oppos\u2019d in arms they stood.\n\nOn a swift-sailing vessel\u2019s stern, that bore\nProtesilaus to the coast of Troy,\nBut to his native country bore not thence,\nHector had laid his hand; around that ship\nTrojans and Greeks in mutual slaughter join\u2019d.\nThe arrow\u2019s or the jav\u2019lin\u2019s distant flight\nThey waited not, but, fir\u2019d with equal rage,\nFought hand to hand, with axe and hatchet keen,\nAnd mighty swords, and double-pointed spears.\nMany a fair-hilted blade, with iron bound,\nDropp\u2019d from the hands, or from the sever\u2019d arms,\nOf warrior chiefs; the dark earth ran with blood:\nYet loos\u2019d not Hector of the stern his hold,\nBut grasp\u2019d the poop, and on the Trojans call\u2019d;\n\n\u201cBring fire, and all together loud and clear\nYour war-cry raise; this day will Jove repay\nOur labours all, with capture of those ships,\nWhich hither came, against the will of Heav\u2019n,\nAnd which on us unnumber\u2019d ills have brought,\nBy our own Elders\u2019 fault, who me, desiring\nEv\u2019n at their vessels\u2019 sterns to urge the war,\nWithheld, and to the town the troops confin\u2019d.\nBut Jove all-seeing, if he then o\u2019errul\u2019d\nOur better mind, himself is now our aid.\u201d\n\nThus he: they onward press\u2019d with added zeal;\nNor Ajax yet endur\u2019d, by hostile spears\nNow sorely gall\u2019d; yet but a little space,\nBack to the helmsman\u2019s sev\u2019n-foot board he mov\u2019d,\nExpecting death; and left the lofty deck,\nWhere long he stood on guard; but still his spear\nThe Trojans kept aloof, whoe\u2019er essay\u2019d\nAmid the ships to launch th\u2019 unwearied flames;\nAnd, loudly shouting, to the Greeks he call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cFriends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars,\nQuit ye like men! dear friends, remember now\nYour wonted valour! think ye in your rear\nTo find supporting forces, or some fort\nWhose walls may give you refuge from your foe?\nNo city is nigh, whose well-appointed tow\u2019rs,\nMann\u2019d by a friendly race, may give us aid;\nBut here, upon the well-arm\u2019d Trojans\u2019 soil,\nAnd only resting on the sea, we lie\nFar from our country; not in faint retreat,\nBut in our own good arms, our safety lies.\u201d\n\nHe said; and with his sharp-edg\u2019d spear his words\nHe follow\u2019d up; if any Trojan dar\u2019d,\nBy Hector\u2019s call inspir\u2019d, with fiery brand\nTo assail the ships, him with his ponderous spear\nWould Ajax meet; and thus before the ships\nTwelve warriors, hand to hand, his prowess felt.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE SIXTH BATTLE; THE ACTS AND DEATH OF PATROCLUS.\n\n\nPatroclus (in pursuance of the request of Nestor in the eleventh book)\nentreats Achilles to suffer him to go to the assistance of the Greeks\nwith Achilles\u2019 troops and armour. He agrees to it, but at the same time\ncharges him to content himself with rescuing the fleet, without farther\npursuit of the enemy. The armour, horses, soldiers, and officers of\nAchilles are described. Achilles offers a libation for the success of\nhis friend, after which Patroclus leads the Myrmidons to battle. The\nTrojans, at the sight of Patroclus in Achilles\u2019 armour, taking him for\nthat hero, are cast into the utmost consternation: he beats them off\nfrom the vessels, Hector himself flies, Sarpedon is killed, though\nJupiter was averse to his fate. Several other particulars of the battle\nare described; in the heat of which, Patroclus, neglecting the orders\nof Achilles, pursues the foe to the walls of Troy; where Apollo\nrepulses and disarms him, Euphorbus wounds him, and Hector kills him:\nwhich concludes the book.\n\nBOOK XVI.\n\nThus round the well-mann\u2019d ship they wag\u2019d the war:\nMeanwhile by Peleus\u2019 son Patroclus stood,\nWeeping hot tears; as some dark-water\u2019d fount\nPours o\u2019er a craggy rock its gloomy stream;\nAchilles, swift of foot, with pity saw,\nAnd to his friend these winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhy weeps Patroclus, like an infant girl,\nThat prays her mother, by whose side she runs,\nTo take her up; and, clinging to her gown,\nImpedes her way, and still with tearful eyes\nLooks in her face, until she take her up?\nEv\u2019n as that girl, Patroclus, such art thou,\nShedding soft tears: hast thou some tidings brought\nTouching the gen\u2019ral weal, or me alone?\nOr have some evil news from Phthia come,\nKnown but to thee? Menoetius, Actor\u2019s son,\nYet surely lives; and \u2019mid his Myrmidons\nLives aged Peleus, son of \u00c6acus:\nTheir deaths indeed might well demand our tears:\nOr weep\u2019st thou for the Greeks, who round their ships\nBy death their former insolence repay?\nSpeak out, that I may know thy cause of grief.\u201d\n\nTo whom, with bitter groans, Patroclus thus:\n\u201cO son of Peleus, noblest of the Greeks,\nAchilles, be not wroth! such weight of woe\nThe Grecian camp oppresses; in their ships\nThey who were late their bravest and their best,\nSore wounded all by spear or arrow lie;\nThe valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed,\nPierc\u2019d by a shaft, Ulysses by a spear,\nAnd Agamemnon\u2019s self; Eurypylus\nBy a sharp arrow through the thigh transfix\u2019d;\nFor these, the large resources of their art\nThe leeches ply, and on their wounds attend;\nWhile thou, Achilles, still remain\u2019st unmov\u2019d.\nOh, be it never mine to nurse such hate\nAs thou retain\u2019st, inflexibly severe!\nWho e\u2019er may hope in future days by thee\nTo profit, if thou now forbear to save\nThe Greeks from shame and loss? Unfeeling man!\nSure Peleus, horseman brave, was ne\u2019er thy sire,\nNor Thetis bore thee; from the cold grey sea\nAnd craggy rocks thou hadst thy birth; so hard\nAnd stubborn is thy soul. But if the fear\nOf evil prophesied thyself restrain,\nOr message by thy Goddess-mother brought\nFrom Jove, yet send me forth with all thy force\nOf Myrmidons, to be the saving light\nOf Greece; and let me to the battle bear\nThy glitt\u2019ring arms, if so the men of Troy,\nScar\u2019d by thy likeness, may forsake the field,\nAnd breathing-time afford the sons of Greece,\nToil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs.\nFresh and unwearied, we may drive with ease\nTo their own city, from our ships and tents,\nThe Trojans, worn and battle-wearied men.\u201d\n\nThus pray\u2019d he, all unwisely; for the pray\u2019r\nHe utter\u2019d, to himself was fraught with death;\nTo whom, much griev\u2019d, Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cHeav\u2019n-born Patroclus, oh, what words are these!\nOf prophecy I reck not, though I know;\nNor message hath my mother brought from Jove;\nBut it afflicts my soul; when one I see\nThat basely robs his equal of his prize,\nHis lawful prize, by highest valour won;\nSuch grief is mine, such wrong have I sustain\u2019d.\nHer, whom the sons of Greece on me bestow\u2019d,\nPrize of my spear, the well-wall\u2019d city storm\u2019d,\nThe mighty Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son,\nHath borne by force away, as from the hands\nOf some dishonour\u2019d, houseless vagabond.\nBut let the past be past; I never meant\nMy wrath should have no end; yet had not thought\nMy anger to abate, till my own ships\nShould hear the war-cry, and the battle bear,\nBut go, and in my well-known armour clad,\nLead forth the valiant Myrmidons to war,\nSince the dark cloud of Trojans circles round\nThe ships in force; and on the shingly beach,\nPent up in narrow limits, lie the Greeks;\nAnd all the city hath pour\u2019d its numbers forth\nIn hope undoubting; for they see no more\nMy helm among them flashing; else in flight\nTheir dead would choke the streams, if but to me\nGreat Agamemnon bore a kindly mind:\nBut round the camp the battle now is wag\u2019d.\nNo more the hands of valiant Diomed,\nThe Greeks protecting, hurl his fiery spear;\nNor hear I now, from his detested lips,\nThe shout of Agamemnon; all around\nIs heard the warrior-slayer Hector\u2019s voice,\nCheering his Trojans; with triumphant cries\nThey, from the vanquish\u2019d Greeks, hold all the plain.\nNathless do thou, Patroclus, in defence\nFall boldly on, lest they with blazing fire\nOur ships destroy, and hinder our retreat.\nBut hear, and ponder well the end of all\nI have to say, and so for me obtain\nHonour and glory in the eyes of Greece;\nAnd that the beauteous maiden to my arms\nThey may restore, with costly gifts to boot.\nThe ships reliev\u2019d, return forthwith; and though\nThe Thund\u2019rer, Juno\u2019s Lord, should crown thine arms\nWith triumph, be not rash, apart from me,\nIn combat with the warlike sons of Troy;\n (So should my name in less repute be held;)\nNor, in the keen excitement of the fight\nAnd slaughter of the Trojans, lead thy troops\nOn tow\u2019rd the city, lest thou find thyself\nBy some one of th\u2019 immortal Gods oppos\u2019d;\nFor the far-darting Phoebus loves them well;\nBut when in safety thou hast plac\u2019d the ships,\nDelay not to return, and leave the rest\nTo battle on the plain: for would to Jove,\nTo Pallas and Apollo, that not one,\nOr Greek or Trojan, might escape from death,\nSave only thou and I; that so we two\nAlone might raze the sacred tow\u2019rs of Troy.\u201d\n\nSuch converse held they; while by hostile spears\nHard press\u2019d, no longer Ajax might endure;\nAt once by Jove\u2019s high will and Trojan foes\nO\u2019ermaster\u2019d; loud beneath repeated blows\nClatter\u2019d around his brow the glitt\u2019ring helm,\nAs on the well-wrought crest the weapons fell;\nAnd his left arm grew faint, that long had borne\nThe burthen of his shield; yet nought avail\u2019d\nThe press of spears to drive him from his post;\nLab\u2019ring he drew his breath, his ev\u2019ry limb\nWith sweat was reeking; breathing space was none;\nBlow follow\u2019d blow; and ills were heap\u2019d on ill.\n\nSay now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell,\nHow first the fire assail\u2019d the Grecian ships.\n\nHector approach\u2019d, and on the ashen spear\nOf Ajax, close behind the head, let fall\nHis mighty sword; right through he clove the wood;\nAnd in his hand the son of Telamon\nThe headless shaft held bootless; far away,\nLoud ringing, fell to earth the brazen point.\nAjax, dismayed, perceived the hand of Heaven,\nAnd knew that Jove the Thunderer had decreed\nTo thwart his hopes, and victory give to Troy.\nSlow he retir\u2019d; and to the vessel they\nThe blazing torch applied; high rose the flame\nUnquenchable, and wrapp\u2019d the poop in fire.\nThe son of Peleus saw, and with his palm\nSmote on his thigh, and to Patroclus call\u2019d:\n\u201cUp, nobly born Patroclus, car-borne chief!\nUp, for I see above the ships ascend\nThe hostile fires; and lest they seize the ships,\nAnd hinder our retreat, do thou in haste\nThine armour don, while I arouse the troops.\u201d\n\nHe said: his dazzling arms Patroclus donn\u2019d:\nFirst on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix\u2019d,\nFasten\u2019d with silver clasps; his ample chest\nThe breastplate of Achilles, swift of foot,\nStar-spangled, richly wrought, defended well;\nAround his shoulders slung, his sword he bore,\nBrass-bladed, silver-studded; next his shield\nWeighty and strong; and on his firm-set head\nA helm he wore, well-wrought, with horsehair plume\nThat nodded, fearful, o\u2019er his brow; his hand\nGrasp\u2019d two stout spears, familiar to his hold.\nOne spear Achilles had, long, pond\u2019rous, tough;\nBut this he touch\u2019d not; none of all the Greeks,\nNone, save Achilles\u2019 self, that spear could poise;\nThe far-fam\u2019d Pelian ash, which to his sire,\nOn Pelion\u2019s summit fell\u2019d, to be the bane\nOf mightiest chiefs, the Centaur Chiron gave.\nThen to Automedon he gave command\nTo yoke the horses: him he honour\u2019d most,\nNext to Achilles\u2019 self; the trustiest he\nIn battle to await his chief\u2019s behest.\nThe flying steeds he harness\u2019d to the car,\nXanthus and Balius, fleeter than the winds;\nWhom, grazing in the marsh by ocean\u2019s stream,\nPodarge, swift of foot, to Zephyr bore:\nAnd by their side the matchless Pedasus,\nWhom from the capture of Eetion\u2019s town\nAchilles bore away; a mortal horse,\nBut with immortal coursers meet to vie.\n\nMeantime Achilles, through their several tents,\nSummon\u2019d to arms the warlike Myrmidons.\nThey all, like rav\u2019ning wolves, of courage high,\nThat on the mountain side have hunted down\nAn antler\u2019d stag, and batten\u2019d on his flesh:\nTheir chaps all dyed with blood, in troops they go,\nWith their lean tongues from some black-water\u2019d fount\nTo lap the surface of the dark cool wave,\nTheir jaws with blood yet reeking, unsubdued\nTheir courage, and their bellies gorg\u2019d with flesh;\nSo round Pelides\u2019 valiant follower throng\u2019d\nThe chiefs and rulers of the Myrmidons.\nAchilles in the midst to charioteers\nAnd buckler\u2019d warriors issued his commands.\nFifty swift ships Achilles, dear to Jove,\nLed to the coast of Troy; and rang\u2019d in each\nFifty brave comrades mann\u2019d the rowers\u2019 seats.\nO\u2019er these five chiefs, on whom he most relied,\nHe plac\u2019d, himself the Sov\u2019reign Lord of all.\nOne band Menestheus led, with glancing mail,\nSon of Sperchius, Heav\u2019n-descended stream;\nHim Peleus\u2019 daughter, Polydora fair,\nA mortal in a God\u2019s embrace compress\u2019d,\nTo stout Sperchius bore; but, by repute,\nTo Boras, Perieres\u2019 son, who her\nIn public, and with ample dow\u2019r, espous\u2019d.\nThe brave Eudorus led the second band,\nWhom Phylas\u2019 daughter, Polymele fair,\nTo Hermes bore; the maid he saw, and lov\u2019d,\nAmid the virgins, mingling in the dance\nOf golden-shafted Dian, Huntress-Queen;\nHe to her chamber access found, and gain\u2019d\nBy stealth her bed; a valiant son she bore,\nEudorus, swift of foot, in battle strong.\nBut when her infant, by Lucina\u2019s aid,\nWas brought to light, and saw the face of day,\nHer to his home, with ample dow\u2019r enrich\u2019d,\nEchecles, son of Actor, bore away;\nWhile him the aged Phylas kept, and nurs\u2019d\nWith tender care, and cherish\u2019d\u2014as his own.\nThe brave Peisander, son of Maemalus,\nThe third commanded; of the Myrmidons,\nNext to Pelides\u2019 friend, the noblest spear.\nThe fourth, the aged warrior Phoenix led;\nThe fifth, Alcimedon, Laerces\u2019 son:\nThese in their order due Achilles first\nArray\u2019d, and next with stirring words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cYe Myrmidons, forget not now the vaunts\nWhich, while my wrath endur\u2019d, ye largely pour\u2019d\nUpon the Trojans; me ye freely blam\u2019d;\n\u2018Ill-omen\u2019d son of Peleus, sure in wrath\nThou wast conceiv\u2019d, implacable, who here\nIn idleness enforc\u2019d thy comrades keep\u2019st!\n\u2019Twere better far our homeward way to take,\nIf such pernicious rancour fill thy soul!\u2019\nThus ye reproach\u2019d me oft! Lo! now ye have\nThe great occasion which your souls desir\u2019d!\nThen on, and with brave hearts the Trojans meet!\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast,\nAnd more compact, beneath their monarch\u2019s eye,\nTheir ranks were form\u2019d; as when the builder lays\nThe closely-fitting stones, to form the wall\nOf some great house, and brave the winds of Heav\u2019n;\nSo close were fitted helm and bossy shield;\nBuckler on buckler press\u2019d, and helm on helm,\nAnd man on man; the horsehair plumes above,\nThat nodded, fearful, from the warriors\u2019 brows,\nEach other touch\u2019d; so closely mass\u2019d they stood.\nBefore them all stood prominent in arms\nTwo chiefs, Patroclus and Automedon,\nBoth with one thought possess\u2019d, to lead the fight\nIn the fore-front of all the Myrmidons.\nAchilles then within his tent withdrew,\nAnd of a gorgeous coffer rais\u2019d the lid,\nWell-wrought, by silver-footed Thetis plac\u2019d\nOn board his ship, and fill\u2019d with rich attire,\nWith store of wind-proof cloaks, and carpets soft.\nThere lay a goblet, richly chas\u2019d, whence none,\nBut he alone, might drink the ruddy wine,\nNor might libations thence to other Gods\nBe made, save only Jove: this brought he forth,\nAnd first with sulphur purified, and next\nWash\u2019d with pure water; then his hands he wash\u2019d,\nAnd drew the ruddy wine; then standing forth\nMade in the centre of the court his pray\u2019r,\nAnd as he pour\u2019d the wine, look\u2019d up to Heav\u2019n,\nNot unbeheld of Jove, the lightning\u2019s Lord:\n\n\u201cGreat King, Dodona\u2019s Lord, Pelasgian Jove,\nWho dwell\u2019st on high, and rul\u2019st with sov\u2019reign sway\nDodona\u2019s wintry heights; where dwell around\nThy Sellian priests, men of unwashen feet,\nThat on the bare ground sleep; thou once before\nHast heard my pray\u2019r, and me with honour crown\u2019d,\nAnd on the Greeks inflicted all thy plagues;\nHear yet again, and this my boon accord.\nI \u2019mid the throng of ships myself remain;\nBut with a num\u2019rous force of Myrmidons\nI send my comrade in my stead to fight:\nOn him, all-seeing Jove, thy favour pour;\nStrengthen his heart, that Hector\u2019s self may learn\nIf, e\u2019en alone, my follower knows to fight,\nOr only then resistless pow\u2019r displays,\nWhen I myself the toil of battle share.\nAnd from our vessels when the foe is driv\u2019n,\nGrant that with all his arms and comrades true\nHe may in safety to the ships return.\u201d\n\nThus pray\u2019d he; Jove, the Lord of counsel, heard,\nAnd half his pray\u2019r he granted, half denied:\nFor from the ships the battle to repel\nHe granted; but denied his safe return.\nHis pray\u2019rs and off\u2019rings ended, to the tent\nAchilles turn\u2019d again, and in the chest\nReplac\u2019d the cup; then issuing forth, he stood\nBefore the tent; for much he long\u2019d to see\nThe Greeks and Trojans join in battle strife.\nThey who in arms round brave Patroclus stood\nTheir line of battle form\u2019d, with courage high\nTo dash upon the Trojans; and as wasps\nThat have their nest beside the public road,\nWhich boys delight to vex and irritate\nIn wanton play, but to the gen\u2019ral harm;\nThem if some passing trav\u2019ller unawares\nDisturb, with angry courage forth they rush\nIn one continuous swarm, to guard their nest:\nE\u2019en with such courage pour\u2019d the Myrmidons\nForth from the ships; then uproar wild arose,\nAnd loud Patroclus on his comrades call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cYe valiant Myrmidons, who boast yourselves\nAchilles\u2019 comrades, quit ye now like men;\nYour ancient valour prove; to Peleus\u2019 son,\nOf all the Greeks the noblest, so shall we,\nHis faithful followers, highest honour give;\nAnd Agamemnon\u2019s haughty self shall mourn\nThe slight on Grecia\u2019s bravest warrior cast.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh courage rous\u2019d in ev\u2019ry breast.\nThick on the Trojan host their masses fell;\nWhile loud the fleet re-echoed to the sound\nOf Grecian cheers; but when the Trojans saw,\nBlazing in arms, Menoetius\u2019 godlike son,\nHimself, and follower; quail\u2019d the spirits of all;\nTheir firm-set ranks were shaken; for they deem\u2019d\nAchilles had beside the ships exchang\u2019d\nHis wrath for friendship; and each sev\u2019ral man\nLook\u2019d round, to find his own escape from death.\n\nThen first Patroclus aim\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear\nAmid the crowd, where thickest round the ships\nOf brave Protesilaus, raged the war;\nAnd struck Pyraechmes, who from Amydon,\nFrom the wide-flowing stream of Axius, led\nThe horsehair-crested Paeons; him he struck\nThrough the right shoulder; backwards in the dust\nGroaning, he fell; around him quail\u2019d with fear\nHis Paeons all, such terror in their ranks\nPatroclus threw, their bravest leader slain,\nThe foremost in the fight; the crowd he drove\nFar from the ships, and quench\u2019d the blazing fire.\nThere lay the half-burnt ship; with shouts confus\u2019d\nThe Trojans fled; and from amid the ships\nForth pour\u2019d the Greeks; and loud the clamour rose.\n\nAs when around a lofty mountain\u2019s top\nThe lightning\u2019s Lord dispels a mass of cloud,\nAnd ev\u2019ry crag, and ev\u2019ry jutting peak\nIs plainly seen, and ev\u2019ry forest glade;\nAnd the deep vault of Heav\u2019n is open\u2019d wide;\nSo when the Greeks had clear\u2019d the ships of fire,\nThey breath\u2019d awhile; yet ceas\u2019d not so the strife;\nFor not in headlong panic from the ships\nThe Trojans by the valiant Greeks were driv\u2019n,\nBut, though perforce retiring, still made head.\n\nThen of the chiefs, as wider spread the fight,\nEach singled each; Menoetius\u2019 noble son\nFirst threw his pointed spear, and on the thigh\nStruck Areilochus, in act to turn;\nRight through the point was driv\u2019n; the weighty spear\nShatter\u2019d the bone, and prone to earth he fell.\nThe warlike Menelaus aim\u2019d his spear\nWhere Thoas\u2019 breast, unguarded by his shield,\nWas left expos\u2019d; and slack\u2019d his limbs in death.\nPhyleus\u2019 brave son, as rush\u2019d Amphiclus on,\nStood firm, with eye observant; then th\u2019 attack\nPreventing, through his thigh, high up, where lie\nThe strongest muscles, smote; the weapon\u2019s point\nSever\u2019d the tendons; darkness clos\u2019d his eyes.\nOf Nestor\u2019s sons, Antilochus, the first,\nAtymnius wounded, driving through his flank\nHe brazen spear; prone on his face he fell.\nThen, burning to avenge his brother\u2019s death,\nStood Maris o\u2019er the corpse, and hand to hand\nEngaged Antilochus; but ere a blow\nWas struck, the godlike Thrasymedes drove\nThrough his right shoulder, with unerring aim,\nHis glitt\u2019ring spear; the point his upper arm\nTore from the muscles, shatt\u2019ring all the bone:\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and darkness clos\u2019d his eyes.\nSo to the shades, by those two brethren\u2019s hands\nSubdued, Sarpedon\u2019s comrades brave were sent,\nThe sons of Amisodarus, who rear\u2019d\nThe dread Chimaera, bane of mortal men.\nOn Cleobulus, wounded in the press,\nAjax Oileus sprang, and captive took,\nAlive; but sudden on his neck let fall\nHis hilted sword, and quench\u2019d the fire of life.\nThe hot blood dyed the sword; the darkling shades\nOf death, and rig\u2019rous fate, his eyes o\u2019erspread.\nThen Peneleus and Lycon, hand to hand,\nEngag\u2019d in combat; both had miss\u2019d their aim,\nAnd bootless hurl\u2019d their weapons; then with swords\nThey met; first Lycon on the crested helm\nDealt a fierce blow; but in his hand the blade\nUp to the hilt was shiver\u2019d; then the sword\nOf Peneleus his neck, below the ear,\nDissever\u2019d; deeply in his throat the blade\nWas plung\u2019d, and by the skin alone was stay\u2019d;\nDown droop\u2019d his head, his limbs relax\u2019d in death.\nMeriones by speed of foot o\u2019ertook,\nAnd, as his car he mounted, Acarnas\nThough the right shoulder pierc\u2019d; down from the car\nHe fell; the shades of death his eyes o\u2019erspread.\nFull on the mouth of Erymas was thrust\nThe weapon of Idomeneus; right through,\nThe white bones crashing, pass\u2019d the brazen spear\nBelow the brain; his teeth were shatter\u2019d all;\nWith blood, which with convulsive sobs he blew\nFrom mouth and nostril, both his eyes were fill\u2019d;\nAnd death\u2019s dark cloud encompass\u2019d him around.\nThus slew the Grecian leaders each his man.\n\nAs rav\u2019ning wolves, that lambs or kids assail,\nStray\u2019d from their dams, by careless shepherds left\nUpon the mountain scatter\u2019d; these they see,\nAnd tear at once their unresisting prey;\nSo on the Trojans fell the Greeks; in rout\nDisastrous they, unmann\u2019d by terror, fled.\nGreat Ajax still, unwearied, long\u2019d to hurl\nHis spear at Hector of the brazen helm;\nBut he, well skill\u2019d in war, his shoulders broad\nProtected by his shield of tough bull\u2019s hide,\nWatch\u2019d for the whizzing shafts, and jav\u2019lins\u2019 whirr.\nFull well he knew the tide of battle turn\u2019d,\nYet held his ground, his trusty friends to save.\n\nAs from Olympus, o\u2019er the clear blue sky\nPour the dark clouds, when Jove the vault of Heav\u2019n\nO\u2019erspreads with storm and tempest, from the ships\nSo pour\u2019d with panic cries the flying host,\nAnd in disorder\u2019d rout recross\u2019d the trench.\nThen Hector\u2019s flying coursers bore him safe\nFar from the struggling masses, whom the ditch\nDetain\u2019d perforce; there many a royal car\nWith broken pole th\u2019 unharness\u2019d horses left.\nOn, shouting to the Greeks, Patroclus press\u2019d\nThe flying Trojans; they, with panic cries,\nDispers\u2019d, the roads encumber\u2019d; high uprose\nThe storms of dust, as from the tents and ships\nBack to the city stretch\u2019d the flying steeds;\nAnd ever where the densest throng appear\u2019d\nWith furious threats Patroclus urg\u2019d his course;\nHis glowing axle trac\u2019d by prostrate men\nHurl\u2019d from their cars, and chariots overthrown.\nFlew o\u2019er the deep-sunk trench th\u2019 immortal steeds,\nThe noble prize the Gods to Peleus gave,\nStill onward straining; for he long\u2019d to reach,\nAnd hurl his spear at Hector; him meanwhile\nHis flying steeds in safety bore away.\n\nAs in th\u2019 autumnal season, when the earth\nWith weight of rain is saturate; when Jove\nPours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men,\nWho in their courts unrighteous judgments pass,\nAnd justice yield to lawless violence,\nThe wrath of Heav\u2019n despising; ev\u2019ry stream\nIs brimming o\u2019er: the hills in gullies deep\nAre by the torrents seam\u2019d, which, rushing down\nFrom the high mountains to the dark-blue sea,\nWith groans and tumult urge their headlong course,\nWasting the works of man; so urg\u2019d their flight,\nSo, as they fled, the Trojan horses groan\u2019d.\nThe foremost ranks cut off, back tow\u2019rd the ships\nPatroclus drove them, baffling their attempts\nTo gain the city; and in middle space\nBetween the ships, the stream, and lofty wall,\nDealt slaughter round him, and of many a chief\nThe bitter penalty of death requir\u2019d.\nThen Pronous with his glitt\u2019ring spear he struck,\nWhere by the shield his breast was left expos\u2019d,\nAnd slack\u2019d his limbs in death; thund\u2019ring he fell.\nNext Thestor, son of \u0152nops, he assail\u2019d;\nHe on his polish\u2019d car, down-crouching, sat,\nHis mind by fear disorder\u2019d; from his hands\nThe reins had dropp\u2019d; him, thrusting with the spear,\nThrough the right cheek and through the teeth he smote,\nThen dragg\u2019d him, by the weapon, o\u2019er the rail.\nAs when an angler on a prominent rock\nDrags from the sea to shore with hook and line\nA weighty fish; so him Patroclus dragg\u2019d,\nGaping, from off the car; and dash\u2019d him down\nUpon his face; and life forsook his limbs.\nNext Eryalus, eager for the fray,\nOn the mid forehead with a mighty stone\nHe struck; beneath the pond\u2019rous helmet\u2019s weight\nThe skull was split in twain; prostrate he fell,\nBy life-consuming death encompass\u2019d round.\nForthwith Amphoterus, and Erymas,\nEpaltes, Echius, and Tlepolemus,\nSon of Damastor, Pyris, Ipheus brave,\nEuippus, Polymelus, Argeas\u2019 son,\nIn quick succession to the ground he brought.\nSarpedon his ungirdled forces saw\nPromiscuous fall before Menoetius\u2019 son,\nAnd to the Lycians call\u2019d in loud reproof:\n\u201cShame, Lycians! whither fly ye? why this haste?\nI will myself this chief confront, and learn\nWho this may be of bearing proud and high,\nWho on the Trojans grievous harm hath wrought,\nAnd many a warrior\u2019s limbs relax\u2019d in death.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from his car, accoutred, sprang;\nPatroclus saw, and he too leap\u2019d to earth.\nAs on a lofty rock, with angry screams,\nHook-beak\u2019d, with talons curv\u2019d, two vultures fight;\nSo with loud shouts these two to battle rush\u2019d.\nThe son of Saturn pitying saw, and thus\nTo Juno spoke, his sister and his wife:\n\n\u201cWoe, woe! that fate decrees my best-belov\u2019d,\nSarpedon, by Patroclus\u2019 hand to fall;\nE\u2019en now conflicting thoughts my soul divide,\nTo bear him from the fatal strife unhurt,\nAnd set him down on Lycia\u2019s fertile plains,\nOr leave him by Patroclus\u2019 hand to fall.\u201d\n\nWhom, answer\u2019d thus the stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nWouldst thou a mortal man from death withdraw\nLong since by fate decreed? Do what thou wilt;\nYet cannot we, the rest, applaud thine act.\nThis too I say, and turn it in thy mind:\nIf to his home Sarpedon thou restore\nAlive, bethink thee, will not other Gods\nTheir sons too from the stubborn fight withdraw?\nFor in the field around the walls of Troy\nAre many sons of Gods, in all of whom\nThis act of thine will angry feelings rouse.\nBut if thou love him, and thy soul deplore\nHis coming doom, yet in the stubborn fight\nLeave him beneath Patroclus\u2019 hand to fall:\nThen, when his spirit hath fled, the charge assign\nTo Death and gentle Sleep, that in their arms\nThey bear him safe to Lycia\u2019s wide-spread plains:\nThere shall his brethren and his friends perform\nHis fun\u2019ral rites, and mound and column raise,\nThe fitting tribute to the mighty dead.\u201d\n\nThus she; the Sire of Gods and men complied:\nBut to the ground some drops of blood let fall,\nIn honour of his son, whom fate decreed,\nFar from his country, on the fertile plains\nOf Troy to perish by Patroclus\u2019 hand.\nAs near the champions drew, Patroclus first\nHis weapon hurl\u2019d, and Thrasymedes brave,\nThe faithful follower of Sarpedon, struck\nBelow the waist, and slack\u2019d his limbs in death.\nThrown in his turn, Sarpedon\u2019s glitt\u2019ring spear\nFlew wide; and Pedasus, the gallant horse,\nThrough the right shoulder wounded; with a scream\nHe fell, and in the dust breath\u2019d forth his life,\nAs, shrieking loud, his noble spirit fled.\nThis way and that his two companions swerv\u2019d;\nCreak\u2019d the strong yoke, and tangled were the reins,\nAs in the dust the prostrate courser lay.\nAutomedon the means of safety saw;\nAnd drawing from beside his brawny thigh\nHis keen-edg\u2019d sword, with no uncertain blow\nCut loose the fallen horse; again set straight,\nThe two, extended, stretch\u2019d the tightened rein.\nAgain in mortal strife the warriors clos\u2019d:\nOnce more Sarpedon hurl\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear\nIn vain; above Patroclus\u2019 shoulder flew\nThe point, innocuous; from his hand in turn\nThe spear not vainly thrown, Sarpedon struck\nWhere lies the diaphragm, below the heart.\nHe fell; as falls an oak, or poplar tall,\nOr lofty pine, which on the mountain top\nFor some proud ship the woodman\u2019s axe hath hewn:\nSo he, with death-cry sharp, before his car\nExtended lay, and clutch\u2019d the blood-stain\u2019d soil.\nAs when a lion on the herd has sprung,\nAnd, \u2019mid the heifers seiz\u2019d, the lordly bull\nLies bellowing, crush\u2019d between the lion\u2019s jaws;\nSo by Patroclus slain, the Lycian chief,\nUndaunted still, his faithful comrade call\u2019d:\n\u201cGood Glaucus, warrior tried, behoves thee now\nThy spearmanship to prove, and warlike might.\nWelcome the fray; put forth thine utmost speed;\nCall on the Lycian chiefs, on ev\u2019ry side,\nTo press around, and for Sarpedon fight;\nThou too thine arms for my protection wield;\nFor I to thee, through all thy future days,\nShall be a ceaseless scandal and reproach,\nIf me, thus slain before the Grecian ships,\nThe Greeks be suffer\u2019d of my arms to spoil:\nBut stand thou fast, and others\u2019 courage raise.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, the shades of death o\u2019erspread\nHis eyes and nostrils; then with foot firm-set\nUpon his chest, Patroclus from the corpse\nDrew, by main force, the fast-adhering spear;\nThe life forth issuing with the weapon\u2019s point.\nLoos\u2019d from the royal car, the snorting steeds,\nEager for flight, the Myrmidons detain\u2019d.\nDeep-grieving, Glaucus heard his voice: and chafed\nHis spirit within him, that he lacked the power\nTo aid his comrade; with his hand he grasp\u2019d\nHis wounded arm, in torture from the shaft\nBy Teucer shot, to save the Greeks from death,\nAs on he pressed to scale the lofty wall:\nThen to Apollo thus address\u2019d his pray\u2019r:\n\n\u201cHear me, great King, who, as on Lycia\u2019s plains,\nArt here in Troy; and hear\u2019st in ev\u2019ry place\nTheir voice who suffer, as I suffer now.\nA grievous wound I bear, and sharpest pangs\nMy arm assail, nor may the blood he stanch\u2019d:\nThe pain weighs down my shoulder; and my hand\nHath lost its pow\u2019r to fight, or grasp my spear.\nSarpedon, bravest of the brave, is slain,\nThe son of Jove; yet Jove preserv\u2019d him not.\nBut thou, O King, this grievous wound relieve;\nAssuage the pain, and give me strength to urge\nMy Lycian comrades to maintain the war,\nAnd fight myself to guard the noble dead.\u201d\n\nThus as he pray\u2019d, his pray\u2019r Apollo heard,\nAssuag\u2019d his pains, and from the grievous wound\nStanch\u2019 d the dark blood, and fill\u2019d his soul with strength.\nGlaucus within himself perceiv\u2019d, and knew,\nRejoicing, that the God had heard his pray\u2019r.\nThe Lycian leaders first on ev\u2019ry side\nHe urg\u2019d to hasten for their King to fight:\nThen \u2019mid the Trojans went with lofty step,\nAnd first to Panthous\u2019 son, Polydamas,\nTo brave Agenor and \u00c6neas next;\nThen Hector of the brazen helm himself\nApproaching, thus with winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cHector, forgett\u2019st thou quite thy brave allies,\nWho freely in thy cause pour forth their lives,\nFar from their home and friends? but they from thee\nNo aid receive; Sarpedon lies in death,\nThe leader of the buckler\u2019d Lycian bands,\nWhose justice and whose pow\u2019r were Lycia\u2019s shield;\nHim by Patroclus\u2019 hand hath Mars subdued.\nBut, friends, stand by me now! with just revenge\nInspir\u2019d, determine that the Myrmidons\nShall not, how griev\u2019d soe\u2019er for all the Greeks\nWho by our spears beside the ships have fall\u2019n,\nOur dead dishonour, and his arms obtain.\u201d\n\nHe said; and through the Trojans thrill\u2019d the sense\nOf grief intolerable, unrestrain\u2019d;\nFor he, though stranger-born, was of the State\nA mighty pillar; and his followers\nA num\u2019rous host; and he himself in fight\nAmong the foremost; so, against the Greeks,\nWith fiery zeal they rush\u2019d, by Hector led,\nGriev\u2019d for Sarpedon\u2019s loss; on th\u2019 other side\nPatroclus\u2019 manly heart the Greeks arous\u2019d,\nAnd to th\u2019 Ajaces first, themselves inflamed\nWith warlike zeal, he thus address\u2019d his speech:\n\n\u201cYe sons of Ajax, now is come the time\nYour former fame to rival, or surpass:\nThe man hath fall\u2019n, who first o\u2019erleap\u2019d our wall,\nSarpedon; now remains, that, having slain,\nWe should his corpse dishonour, and his arms\nStrip off; and should some comrade dare attempt\nHis rescue, him too with our spears subdue.\u201d\n\nHe said; and they, with martial ardour fir\u2019d,\nRush\u2019d to the conflict. When on either side\nThe reinforc\u2019d battalions were array\u2019d,\nTrojans and Lycians, Myrmidons and Greeks\nAround the dead in sternest combat met,\nWith fearful shouts; and loud their armour rang.\nThen, to enhance the horror of the strife\nAround his son, with darkness Jove o\u2019erspread\nThe stubborn fight: the Trojans first drove back\nThe keen-ey\u2019d Greeks; for first a warrior fell,\nNot of the meanest \u2019mid the Myrmidons,\nEpegeus, son of valiant Agacles;\nWho in Budaeum\u2019s thriving state bore rule\nErewhile; but flying for a kinsman slain,\nTo Peleus and the silver-footed Queen\nHe came a suppliant; with Achilles thence\nTo Ilium sent, to join the war of Troy.\nHim, as he stretch\u2019d his hand to seize the dead,\nFull on the forehead with a massive stone\nGreat Hector smote; within the pond\u2019rous helm\nThe skull was split in twain; prone on the corpse\nHe fell, by life-destroying death subdued.\nGriev\u2019d was Patroclus for his comrade slain;\nForward he darted, as a swift-wing\u2019d hawk,\nThat swoops amid the starlings and the daws;\nSo swift didst thou, Patroclus, car-borne chief,\nUpon the Trojans and the Lycians spring,\nThy soul with anger for thy comrade fill\u2019d.\nA pond\u2019rous stone he hurl\u2019d at Sthenelas,\nSon of Ithaemenes; the mighty mass\nFell on his neck, and all the muscles crush\u2019d.\nBack drew great Hector and the chiefs of Troy;\nFar as a jav\u2019lin\u2019s flight, in sportive strife,\nOr in the deadly battle, hurl\u2019d by one\nHis utmost strength exerting; back so far\nThe Trojans drew, so far the Greeks pursued.\nGlaucus, the leader of the Lycian spears,\nFirst turning, slew the mighty Bathycles,\nThe son of Chalcon; he in Hellas dwelt,\nIn wealth surpassing all the Myrmidons.\nHim, as he gain\u2019d upon him in pursuit,\nQuick turning, Glaucus through the breast transfix\u2019d;\nThund\u2019ring he fell; deep grief possess\u2019d the Greeks\nAt loss of one so valiant; fiercely joy\u2019d\nThe Trojans, and around him crowded thick;\nNor of their wonted valour were the Greeks\nOblivious, but still onward held their course.\nThen slew Meriones a crested chief,\nThe bold Laogonus, Onetor\u2019s son;\nOnetor, of Idaean Jove the priest,\nAnd by the people as a God rever\u2019d.\nBelow the ear he struck him; from his limbs\nThe spirit fled, and darkness veil\u2019d his eyes.\n\nThen at Meriones \u00c6neas threw\nHis brazen spear, in hopes beneath his shield\nTo find a spot unguarded; he beheld,\nAnd downward stooping, shunn\u2019d the brazen death;\nBehind him far, deep in the soil infix\u2019d,\nThe weapon stood; there Mars its impulse stay\u2019d;\nSo, bootless hurl\u2019d, though by no feeble hand,\n\u00c6neas\u2019 spear stood quiv\u2019ring in the ground;\nThen thus in wrath he cried: \u201cMeriones,\nHad it but struck thee, nimble as thou art,\nMy spear had brought thy dancing to a close.\u201d\n\nTo whom the spearman skill\u2019d, Meriones:\n\u201cBrave as thou art, \u00c6neas, \u2019tis too much\nFor thee to hope the might of all to quell,\nWho dare confront thee; thou art mortal too!\nAnd if my aim be true, and should my spear\nBut strike thee fair, all valiant as thou art,\nAnd confident, yet me thy fall shall crown\nWith triumph, and thy soul to Hades send.\u201d\n\nHe said; and him Menoetius\u2019 noble son\nAddress\u2019d with grave rebuke: \u201cMeriones,\nBrave warrior, why thus waste the time in words?\nTrust me, good friend, \u2019tis not by vaunting speech,\nUnseconded by deeds, that we may hope\nTo scare away the Trojans from the slain:\nHands are for battle, words for council meet;\nBoots it not now to wrangle, but to fight.\u201d\n\nHe said, and led the way; him follow\u2019d straight\nThe godlike chief; forthwith, as loudly rings,\nAmid the mountain forest\u2019s deep recess,\nThe woodman\u2019s axe, and far is heard the sound;\nSo from the wide-spread earth their clamour rose,\nAs brazen arms, and shields, and tough bull\u2019s-hide\nEncounter\u2019d swords and double-pointed spears.\nNor might the sharpest sight Sarpedon know,\nFrom head to foot with wounds and blood and dust\nDisfigur\u2019d; thickly round the dead they swarm\u2019d.\nAs when at spring-tide in the cattle-sheds\nAround the milk-cans swarm the buzzing flies,\nWhile the warm milk is frothing in the pail;\nSo swarm\u2019d they round the dead; nor Jove the while\nTurn\u2019d from the stubborn fight his piercing glance;\nBut still look\u2019d down with gaze intent, and mus\u2019d\nUpon Patroclus\u2019 coming fate, in doubt,\nIf he too there beside Sarpedon slain,\nShould perish by illustrious Hector\u2019s hand,\nSpoil\u2019d of his arms; or yet be spared awhile\nTo swell the labours of the battle-field.\nHe judg\u2019d it best at length, that once again\nThe gallant follower of Peleus\u2019 son\nShould tow\u2019rd the town with fearful slaughter drive\nThe Trojans, and their brazen-helmed chief.\nFirst Hector\u2019s soul with panic fear he fill\u2019d;\nMounting his car, he fled, and urg\u2019d to flight\nThe Trojans; for he saw the scales of Jove.\nThen nor the valiant Lycians held their ground;\nAll fled in terror, as they saw their King\nPierc\u2019d through the heart, amid a pile of dead;\nFor o\u2019er his body many a warrior fell,\nWhen Saturn\u2019s son the conflict fierce inflam\u2019d.\nThen from Sarpedon\u2019s breast they stripp\u2019d his arms,\nOf brass refulgent; these Menoetius\u2019 son\nSent by his comrades to the ships of Greece.\n\nTo Phoebus then the Cloud-compeller thus:\n\u201cHie thee, good Phoebus, from amid the spears\nWithdraw Sarpedon, and from all his wounds\nCleanse the dark gore; then bear him far away,\nAnd lave his body in the flowing stream;\nThen with divine ambrosia all his limbs\nAnointing, clothe him in immortal robes.\nTo two swift bearers give him then in charge,\nTo Sleep and Death, twin brothers, in their arms\nTo bear him safe to Lycia\u2019s wide-spread plains:\nThere shall his brethren and his friends perform\nHis fun\u2019ral rites, and mound and column raise,\nThe fitting tribute to the mighty dead.\u201d\n\nHe said; obedient to his father\u2019s words,\nDown to the battle-field Apollo sped\nFrom Ida\u2019s height; and from amid the spears\nWithdrawn, he bore Sarpedon far away,\nAnd lav\u2019d his body in the flowing stream;\nThen with divine ambrosia all his limbs\nAnointing, cloth\u2019d him in immortal robes;\nTo two swift bearers gave him then in charge,\nTo Sleep and Death, twin brothers; in their arms\nThey bore him safe to Lycia\u2019s wide-spread plains.\n\nThen to Automedon Patroclus gave\nHis orders, and the flying foe pursued.\nOh much deceiv\u2019d, insensate! had he now\nBut borne in mind the words of Peleus\u2019 son,\nHe might have \u2019scap\u2019d the bitter doom of death.\nBut still Jove\u2019s will the will of man o\u2019errules:\nWho strikes with panic, and of vict\u2019ry robs\nThe bravest; and anon excites to war;\nWho now Patroclus\u2019 breast with fury fill\u2019d.\nWhom then, Patroclus, first, whom slew\u2019st thou last,\nWhen summon\u2019d by the Gods to meet thy doom?\nAdrastus, and Autonous, Perimus\nThe son of Meges, and Echeclus next;\nEpistor, Melanippus, Elasus,\nAnd Mulius, and Pylartes; these he slew;\nThe others all in flight their safety found.\n\nThen had the Greeks the lofty-gated town\nOf Priam captur\u2019d by Patroclus\u2019 hand,\nSo forward and so fierce he bore his spear;\nBut on the well-built tow\u2019r Apollo stood,\nOn his destruction bent, and Troy\u2019s defence\nThe jutting angle of the lofty wall\nPatroclus thrice assail\u2019d; his onset thrice\nApollo, with his own immortal hands\nRepelling, backward thrust his glitt\u2019ring shield.\nBut when again, with more than mortal force\nHe made his fourth attempt, with awful mien\nAnd threat\u2019ning voice the Far-destroyer spoke:\n\n\u201cBack, Heav\u2019n-born chief, Patroclus! not to thee\nHath fate decreed the triumph to destroy\nThe warlike Trojans\u2019 city; no, nor yet\nTo great Achilles, mightier far than thou.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, Patroclus backward stepp\u2019d,\nShrinking before the Far-destroyer\u2019s wrath.\nStill Hector kept before the Scaean gates\nHis coursers; doubtful, if again to dare\nThe battle-throng, or summon all the host\nTo seek the friendly shelter of the wall.\nThus as he mus\u2019d, beside him Phoebus stood,\nIn likeness of a warrior stout and brave,\nBrother of Hecuba, the uncle thence\nOf noble Hector, Asius, Dymas\u2019 son;\nWho dwelt in Phrygia, by Saugarius\u2019 stream;\nHis form assuming, thus Apollo spoke:\n\u201cHector, why shrink\u2019st thou from the battle thus?\nIt ill beseems thee! Would to Heav\u2019n that I\nSo far thy greater were, as thou art mine;\nThen sorely shouldst thou rue this abstinence.\nBut, forward thou! against Patroclus urge\nThy fiery steeds, so haply by his death\nApollo thee with endless fame may crown.\u201d\n\nThis said, the God rejoin\u2019d the strife of men;\nAnd noble Hector bade Cebriones\nDrive \u2019mid the fight his car; before him mov\u2019d\nApollo, scatt\u2019ring terror \u2019mid the Greeks,\nAnd lustre adding to the arms of Troy.\nAll others Hector pass\u2019d unnotic\u2019d by,\nNor stay\u2019d to slay; Patroclus was the mark\nAt which his coursers\u2019 clatt\u2019ring hoofs he drove.\nOn th\u2019 other side, Patroclus from his car\nLeap\u2019d to the ground: his left hand held his spear;\nAnd in the right a pond\u2019rous mass he bore\nOf rugged stone, that fill\u2019d his ample grasp:\nThe stone he hurl\u2019d; not far it miss\u2019d its mark,\nNor bootless flew; but Hector\u2019s charioteer\nIt struck, Cebriones, a bastard son\nOf royal Priam, as the reins he held.\nFull on his temples fell the jagged mass,\nDrove both his eyebrows in, and crush\u2019d the bone;\nBefore him in the dust his eyeballs fell;\nAnd, like a diver, from the well-wrought car\nHeadlong he plung\u2019d; and life forsook his limbs.\nO\u2019er whom Patroclus thus with bitter jest:\n\u201cHeav\u2019n! what agility! how deftly thrown\nThat somersault! if only in the sea\nSuch feats he wrought, with him might few compete,\nDiving for oysters, if with such a plunge\nHe left his boat, how rough soe\u2019er the waves,\nAs from his car he plunges to the ground:\nTroy can, it seems, accomplish\u2019d tumblers boast.\u201d\n\nThus saying, on Cebriones he sprang,\nAs springs a lion, through the breast transfix\u2019d,\nIn act the sheepfold to despoil, and dies\nThe victim of his courage; so didst thou\nUpon Cebriones, Patroclus, spring.\nDown from his car too Hector leap\u2019d to earth.\nSo, o\u2019er Cebriones, oppos\u2019d they stood;\nAs on the mountain, o\u2019er a slaughter\u2019d stag,\nBoth hunger-pinch\u2019d, two lions fiercely fight,\nSo o\u2019er Cebriones two mighty chiefs,\nMenoetius\u2019 son and noble Hector, strove,\nEach in the other bent to plunge his spear.\nThe head, with grasp unyielding, Hector held;\nPatroclus seiz\u2019d the foot; and, crowding round,\nTrojans and Greeks in stubborn conflict clos\u2019d.\n\nAs when, encount\u2019ring in some mountain-glen,\nEurus and Notus shake the forest deep,\nOf oak, or ash, or slender cornel-tree,\nWhose tap\u2019ring branches are together thrown,\nWith fearful din, and crash of broken boughs;\nSo mix\u2019d confus\u2019dly, Greeks and Trojans fought,\nNo thought of flight by either entertain\u2019d.\nThick o\u2019er Cebriones the jav\u2019lins flew,\nAnd feather\u2019d arrows, bounding from the string;\nAnd pond\u2019rous stones that on the bucklers rang,\nAs round the dead they fought; amid the dust\nThat eddying rose, his art forgotten all,\nA mighty warrior, mightily he lay.\nWhile in mid Heav\u2019n the sun pursued his course,\nThick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell\nOn either side; but when declining day\nBrought on the hour that sees the loosen\u2019d steers,\nThe Greeks were stronger far; and from the darts\nAnd Trojan battle-cry Cebriones\nThey drew, and from his breast his armour stripp\u2019d.\nFiercely Patroclus on the Trojans fell:\nThrice he assail\u2019d them, terrible as Mars,\nWith fearful shouts; and thrice nine foes he slew:\nBut when again, with more than mortal force\nHis fourth assault he made, thy term of life,\nPatroclus, then approach\u2019d its final close;\nFor Phoebus\u2019 awful self encounter\u2019d thee,\nAmid the battle-throng, of thee unseen,\nFor thickest darkness shrouded all his form:\nHe stood behind, and with extended palm\nDealt on Patroclus\u2019 neck and shoulders broad\nA mighty buffet; dizzy swam his eyes,\nAnd from his head Apollo snatch\u2019d the helm;\nClank\u2019d, as it roll\u2019d beneath the horses\u2019 feet,\nThe visor\u2019d helm; the horsehair plume with blood\nAnd dust polluted; never till that day\nWas that proud helmet so with dust defil\u2019d,\nThat wont to deck a godlike chief, and guard\nAchilles\u2019 noble head, and graceful brow:\nNow by the will of Jove to Hector giv\u2019n.\nNow death was near at hand; and in his grasp\nHis spear was shiver\u2019d, pond\u2019rous, long, and tough,\nBrass-pointed; with its belt, the ample shield\nFell from his shoulders; and Apollo\u2019s hand,\nThe royal son of Jove, his corslet loos\u2019d.\nThen was his mind bewilder\u2019d; and his limbs\nGave way beneath him; all aghast he stood:\nHim, from behind, a Dardan, Panthous\u2019 son,\nEuphorbus, peerless \u2019mid the Trojan youth,\nTo hurl the spear, to run, to drive the car,\nApproaching close, between the shoulders stabb\u2019d;\nHe, train\u2019d to warfare, from his car, ere this\nA score of Greeks had from their chariots hurl\u2019d:\nSuch was the man who thee, Patroclus, first\nWounded, but not subdued; the ashen spear\nHe, in all haste, withdrew; nor dar\u2019d confront\nPatroclus, though disarm\u2019d, in deadly strife.\n\nBack to his comrades\u2019 shelt\u2019ring ranks retir\u2019d,\nFrom certain death, Patroclus: by the stroke\nOf Phoebus vanquish\u2019d, and Euphorbus\u2019 spear:\nBut Hector, when Patroclus from the fight\nHe saw retreating, wounded, through the ranks\nAdvancing, smote him through the flank; right through\nThe brazen spear was driv\u2019n; thund\u2019ring he fell;\nAnd deeply mourn\u2019d his fall the Grecian host.\n\nAs when a lion hath in fight o\u2019erborne\nA tusked boar, when on the mountain top\nThey two have met, in all their pride of strength,\nBoth parch\u2019d with thirst, around a scanty spring;\nAnd vanquish\u2019d by the lion\u2019s force, the boar\nHath yielded, gasping; so Menoetius\u2019 son,\nGreat deeds achiev\u2019d, at length beneath the spear\nOf noble Hector yielded up his life;\nWho o\u2019er the vanquish\u2019d, thus exulting, spoke:\n\u201cPatroclus, but of late thou mad\u2019st thy boast\nTo raze our city walls, and in your ships\nTo bear away to your far-distant land,\nTheir days of freedom lost, our Trojan dames:\nFool that thou wast! nor knew\u2019st, in their defence,\nThat Hector\u2019s flying coursers scour\u2019d the plain;\nFrom them, the bravest of the Trojans, I\nAvert the day of doom; while on our shores\nThy flesh shall glut the carrion birds of Troy.\nPoor wretch! though brave he be, yet Peleus\u2019 son\nAvail\u2019d thee nought, when, hanging back himself,\nWith sage advice he sent thee forth to fight:\n\u2018Come not to me, Patroclus, car-borne chief,\nNor to the ships return, until thou bear\nThe warrior-slayer Hector\u2019s bloody spoils,\nTorn from his body;\u2019 such were, I suppose,\nHis counsels; thou, poor fool, becam\u2019st his dupe.\u201d\nTo whom Patroclus thus in accents faint:\n\n\u201cHector, thou boastest loudly now, that Jove,\nWith Phoebus join\u2019d, hath thee with vict\u2019ry crown\u2019d:\nThey wrought my death, who stripp\u2019d me of my arms.\nHad I to deal with twenty such as thee,\nThey all should perish, vanquish\u2019d by my spear:\nMe fate hath slain, and Phoebus; and, of men,\nEuphorbus; thou wast but the third to strike.\nThis too I say, and bear it in thy mind;\nNot long shalt thou survive me; death e\u2019en now\nAnd final doom hangs o\u2019er thee, by the hand\nOf great Achilles, Peleus\u2019 matchless son.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, the gloom of death his eyes\nO\u2019erspread, and to the shades his spirit fled,\nMourning his fate, his youth and strength cut off.\nTo whom, though dead, the noble Hector thus:\n\u201cPatroclus, why predict my coming fate?\nOr who can say but fair-hair\u2019d Thetis\u2019 son,\nAchilles, by my spear may first be slain?\u201d\n\nHe said, and planting firm his foot, withdrew\nThe brazen spear, and backward drove the dead\nFrom off the weapon\u2019s point; then, spear in hand,\nIntent to slay, Automedon pursued,\nThe godlike follower of \u00c6acides:\nBut him in safety bore th\u2019 immortal steeds,\nThe noble prize the Gods to Peleus gave.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE SEVENTH BATTLE, FOR THE BODY OF PATROCLUS.\u2014THE ACTS OF MENELAUS.\n\n\nMenelaus, upon the death of Patroclus, defends his body from the enemy;\nEuphorbus, who attempts it, is slain. Hector advancing, Menelaus\nretires; but soon returns with Ajax, and drives him off. This Glaucus\nobjects to Hector as a flight, who thereupon puts on the armour he had\nwon from Patroclus, and renews the battle. The Greeks give way, till\nAjax rallies them: \u00c6neas sustains the Trojans. \u00c6neas and Hector\nattempt the chariot of Achilles, which is borne off by Automedon. The\nhorses of Achilles deplore the loss of Patroclus; Jupiter covers his\nbody with a thick darkness; the noble prayer of Ajax on that occasion.\nMenelaus sends Antilochus to Achilles, with the news of Patroclus\u2019s\ndeath: then returns to the fight, where, though attacked with the\nutmost fury, he and Meriones, assisted by the Ajaces, bear off the body\nto the ships.\n\nThe time is the evening of the eight-and-twentieth day. The scene lies\nin the fields before Troy.\n\nBOOK XVII.\n\nNor was Patroclus\u2019 fall, by Trojans slain,\nOf warlike Menelaus unobserv\u2019d;\nForward he sprang, in dazzling arms array\u2019d,\nAnd round him mov\u2019d, as round her new-dropp\u2019d calf\nHer first, a heifer moves with plaintive moan:\nSo round Patroclus Menelaus mov\u2019d,\nHis shield\u2019s broad orb and spear before him held,\nTo all who might oppose him threat\u2019ning death.\nNor, on his side, was Panthous\u2019 noble son\nUnmindful of the slain; but, standing near,\nThe warlike Menelaus thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cIllustrious son of Atreus, Heav\u2019n-born chief,\nQuit thou the dead; yield up the bloody spoils:\nFor, of the Trojans and their fam\u2019d Allies,\nMine was the hand that in the stubborn fight\nFirst struck Patroclus; leave me then to wear\nAmong the men of Troy my honours due,\nLest by my spear thou lose thy cherish\u2019d life.\u201d\n\nTo whom in anger Menelaus thus:\n\u201cO Father Jove, how ill this vaunting tone\nBeseems this braggart! In their own esteem,\n\u201cWith Panthous\u2019 sons for courage none may vie;\nNor pard, nor lion, nor the forest boar,\nFiercest of beasts, and proudest of his strength.\nYet nought avail\u2019d to Hyperenor\u2019s might\nHis youthful vigour, when he held me cheap,\nAnd my encounter dar\u2019d; of all the Greeks\nHe deem\u2019d my prowess least; yet he, I ween,\nOn his own feet return\u2019d not, to rejoice\nHis tender wife\u2019s and honour\u2019d parents\u2019 sight.\nSo shall thy pride be quell\u2019d, if me thou dare\nEncounter; but I warn thee, while \u2019tis time,\nEre ill betide thee, \u2019mid the gen\u2019ral throng\nThat thou withdraw, nor stand to me oppos\u2019d.\nAfter th\u2019 event may e\u2019en a fool be wise.\u201d\nHe spoke in vain; Euphorbus thus replied:\n\n\u201cNow, Heav\u2019n-born Menelaus, shalt thou pay\nThe forfeit for my brother\u2019s life, o\u2019er whom,\nSlain by thy hand, thou mak\u2019st thy boasting speech.\nThou in the chambers of her new-found home\nHast made his bride a weeping widow; thou\nHast fill\u2019d with bitt\u2019rest grief his parents\u2019 hearts:\nSome solace might those hapless mourners find,\nCould I thy head and armour in the hands\nOf Panthous and of honour\u2019d Phrontis place;\nNor uncontested shall the proof remain,\nNor long deferr\u2019d, of vict\u2019ry or defeat.\u201d\n\nHe said, and struck the centre of the shield,\nBut broke not through; against the stubborn brass\nThe point was bent; then with a pray\u2019r to Jove\nThe son of Atreus in his turn advanc\u2019d;\nAnd, backward as he stepp\u2019d, below his throat\nTook aim, and pressing hard with stalwart hand\nDrove through the yielding neck the pond\u2019rous spear:\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\nThose locks, that with the Graces\u2019 hair might vie,\nThose tresses bright, with gold and silver bound,\nWere dabbled all with blood. As when a man\nHath rear\u2019d a fair and vig\u2019rous olive plant,\nIn some lone spot, by copious-gushing springs,\nAnd seen expanding, nurs\u2019d by ev\u2019ry breeze,\nIts whit\u2019ning blossoms; till with sudden gust\nA sweeping hurricane of wind and rain\nUproots it from its bed, and prostrate lays;\nSo lay the youthful son of Panthous, slain\nBy Atreus\u2019 son, and of his arms despoil\u2019d.\nAnd as a lion, in the mountains bred,\nIn pride of strength, amid the pasturing herd\nSeizes a heifer in his pow\u2019rful jaws,\nThe choicest; and, her neck first broken, rends,\nAnd, on her entrails gorging, laps the blood;\nThough with loud clamour dogs and herdsmen round\nAssail him from afar, yet ventures none\nTo meet his rage, for fear is on them all;\nSo none was there so bold, with dauntless breast\nThe noble Menelaus\u2019 wrath to meet.\nNow had Atrides borne away with ease\nThe spoils of Panthous\u2019 son; but Phoebus grudg\u2019d\nHis prize of vict\u2019ry, and against him launch\u2019d\nThe might of Hector, terrible as Mars:\nTo whom his winged words, in Mentes\u2019 form,\nChief of the Cicones, he thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cHector, thy labour all is vain, pursuing\nPelides\u2019 flying steeds; and hard are they\nFor mortal man to harness, or control.\nSave for Achilles\u2019 self, the Goddess-born.\nThe valiant Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son,\nDefends meanwhile Patroclus; and e\u2019en now\nHath slain a noble Trojan, Panthous\u2019 son,\nEuphorbus, and his youthful vigour quell\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and join\u2019d again the strife of men:\nHector\u2019s dark soul with bitter grief was fill\u2019d;\nHe look\u2019d amid the ranks, and saw the two,\nOne slain, the other stripping off his arms,\nThe blood outpouring from the gaping wound.\nForward he sprang, in dazzling arms array\u2019d,\nLoud shouting, blazing like the quenchless flames\nOf Vulcan: Menelaus heard the shout,\nAnd, troubled, commun\u2019d with his valiant heart:\n\n\u201cOh, woe is me! for should I now the spoils\nAbandon, and Patroclus, who for me\nAnd in my cause lies slain, of any Greek\nWho saw me, I might well incur the blame:\nAnd yet if here alone I dare to fight\nWith Hector and his Trojans, much I fear,\nSingly, to be by numbers overwhelm\u2019d;\nFor Hector all the Trojans hither brings.\nBut wherefore entertain such thoughts, my soul?\nWho strives, against the will divine, with one\nBelov\u2019d of Heav\u2019n, a bitter doom must meet.\nThen none may blame me, though I should retreat\nFrom Hector, who with Heav\u2019n\u2019s assistance wars.\nYet could I hear brave Ajax\u2019 battle cry,\nWe two, returning, would the encounter dare,\nE\u2019en against Heav\u2019n, if so for Peleus\u2019 son\nWe might regain, and bear away the dead:\nSome solace of our loss might then be ours.\u201d\n\nWhile in his mind and spirit thus he mus\u2019d,\nBy Hector led, the Trojan ranks advanc\u2019d:\nBackward he mov\u2019d, abandoning the dead;\nBut turning oft, as when by men and dogs\nA bearded lion from the fold is driv\u2019n\nWith shouts and spears; yet grieves his mighty heart,\nAnd with reluctant step he quits the yard:\nSo from Patroclus Menelaus mov\u2019d;\nYet when he reach\u2019d his comrades\u2019 ranks, he turn\u2019d,\nAnd look\u2019d around, if haply he might find\nThe mighty Ajax, son of Telamon.\nHim on the battle\u2019s farthest left he spied,\nCheering his friends and urging to the fight,\nFor sorely Phoebus had their courage tried;\nAnd hast\u2019ning to his side, address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cAjax, haste hither; to the rescue come\nOf slain Patroclus; if perchance we two\nMay to Achilles, Peleus\u2019 son, restore\nHis body: his naked body, for his arms\nAre prize to Hector of the glancing helm.\u201d\n\nHe said, and Ajax\u2019 spirit within him stirr\u2019d;\nForward he sprang, and with him Atreus\u2019 son.\nHector was dragging now Patroclus\u2019 corpse,\nStripped of its glitt\u2019ring armour, and intent\nThe head to sever with his sword, and give\nThe mangled carcase to the dogs of Troy:\nBut Ajax, with his tow\u2019r-like shield, approach\u2019d;\nThen Hector to his comrades\u2019 ranks withdrew,\nRush\u2019d to his car, and bade the Trojans bear\nThe glitt\u2019ring arms, his glorious prize, to Troy:\nWhile Ajax with his mighty shield o\u2019erspread\nMenoetius\u2019 son; and stood, as for his cubs\nA lion stands, whom hunters, unaware,\nHave with his offspring met amid the woods.\nProud in his strength he stands; and down are drawn,\nCov\u2019ring his eyes, the wrinkles of his brow:\nSo o\u2019er Patroclus mighty Ajax stood,\nAnd by his side, his heart with grief oppress\u2019d,\nThe warlike Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son.\n\nThen Glaucus, leader of the Lycian host,\nTo Hector thus, with scornful glance, address\u2019d\nHis keen reproaches: \u201cHector, fair of form,\nHow art thou wanting in the fight! thy fame,\nCoward and runaway, thou hast belied.\nBethink thee now, if thou alone canst save\nThe city, aided but by Trojans born;\nHenceforth no Lycian will go forth for Troy\nTo fight with Greeks; since favour none we gain\nBy unremitting toil against the foe.\nHow can a meaner man expect thine aid,\nWho basely to the Greeks a prize and spoil\nSarpedon leav\u2019st, thy comrade and thy guest?\nGreatly he serv\u2019d the city and thyself,\nWhile yet he liv\u2019d; and now thou dar\u2019st not save\nHis body from the dogs! By my advice\nIf Lycians will be rul\u2019d, we take at once\nOur homeward way, and Troy may meet her doom.\nBut if in Trojan bosoms there abode\nThe daring, dauntless courage, meet for men\nWho in their country\u2019s cause against the foe\nEndure both toil and war, we soon should see\nPatroclus brought within the walls of Troy;\nHim from the battle could we bear away,\nAnd, lifeless, bring to royal Priam\u2019s town,\nSoon would the Greeks Sarpedon\u2019s arms release,\nAnd we to Ilium\u2019s heights himself might bear:\nFor with his valiant comrades there lies slain\nThe follower of the bravest chief of Greece.\nBut thou before the mighty Ajax stood\u2019st\nWith downcast eyes, nor durst in manly fight\nContend with one thy better far confess\u2019d.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm,\nWith stern regard, replied: \u201cWhy, Glaucus, speak,\nBrave as thou art, in this o\u2019erbearing strain?\nGood friend, I heretofore have held thee wise\nO\u2019er all who dwell in Lycia\u2019s fertile soil;\nBut now I change, and hold thy judgment cheap,\nWho chargest me with flying from the might\nOf giant Ajax; never have I shrunk\nFrom the stern fight, and clatter of the cars;\nBut all o\u2019erruling is the mind of Jove,\nWho strikes with panic, and of vict\u2019ry robs\nThe bravest; and anon excites to war.\nStand by me now, and see if through the day\nI prove myself the coward that thou say\u2019st,\nOr suffer that a Greek, how brave soe\u2019er,\nShall rescue from my hands Patroclus\u2019 corpse.\u201d\n\nHe said, and loudly on the Trojans call\u2019d:\n\u201cTrojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam\u2019d\nIn close encounter, quit ye now like men;\nMaintain awhile the stubborn fight, while I\nThe splendid armour of Achilles don,\nMy glorious prize from slain Patroclus torn.\u201d\n\nSo saying, Hector of the glancing helm,\nWithdrawing from the field, with rapid steps\nHis comrades follow\u2019d, and ere long o\u2019ertook,\nWho tow\u2019rd the town Achilles\u2019 armour bore;\nThen standing from the bloody fight aloof\nThe armour he exchang\u2019d; his own he bade\nThe warlike Trojans to the city bear;\nWhile he, of Peleus\u2019 son, Achilles, donn\u2019d\nThe heav\u2019nly armour, which th\u2019 immortal Gods\nGave to his sire; he to his son convey\u2019d;\nYet in that armour grew not old that son.\n\nHim when apart the Cloud-compeller saw\nGirt with the arms of Peleus\u2019 godlike son,\nHe shook his head, and inly thus he mus\u2019d:\n\u201cAh hapless! little deem\u2019st thou of thy fate,\nThough now so nigh! Thou of the prime of men,\nThe dread of all, hast donn\u2019d th\u2019 immortal arms,\nWhose comrade, brave and good, thy hand hath slain;\nAnd sham\u2019d him, stripping from his head and breast\nHelmet and cuirass; yet thy latest hours\nWill I with glory crown; since ne\u2019er from thee,\nReturn\u2019d from battle, shall Andromache\nReceive the spoils of Peleus\u2019 godlike son.\u201d\n\nHe said, and nodded with his shadowy brows;\nThen with the armour, fitted to his form\nBy Jove himself, was Hector girt by Mars\nThe fierce and terrible; with vig\u2019rous strength\nHis limbs were strung, as \u2019mid his brave allies\nHe sprang, loud-shouting; glitt\u2019ring in his arms,\nTo all he seem\u2019d Achilles\u2019 godlike self.\nTo each and all in cheering tones he spoke,\nMesthles and Glaucus and Thersilochus,\nAsteropaeus and Hippothous,\nMedon, Deisenor, Phoreys, Chromius,\nAnd Ennomus the seer: to all of these\nHis winged words he cheeringly address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye countless tribes, that dwelling round\nAssist our cause! You from your sev\u2019ral homes\nNot for display of numbers have I call\u2019d,\nBut that with willing hearts ye should defend\nOur wives and infants from the warlike Greeks:\nFor this I drain my people\u2019s stores, for food\nAnd gifts for you, exalting your estate;\nThen, who will boldly onward, he may fall,\nOr safe escape, such is the chance of war;\nBut who within our valiant Trojans\u2019 ranks\nShall but the body of Patroclus bring,\nDespite the might of Ajax; half the spoils\nTo him I give, the other half myself\nRetaining; and his praise shall equal mine.\u201d\n\nHe said; and onward, with uplifted spears,\nThey march\u2019d upon the Greeks; high rose their hopes\nFrom Ajax Telamon to snatch the dead;\nVain hopes, which cost them many a life! Then thus\nTo valiant Menelaus Ajax spoke;\n\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n-born Menelaus, noble friend,\nFor safe return I dare no longer hope:\nNot for Patroclus\u2019 corpse so much I fear,\nWhich soon will glut the dogs and birds of Troy,\nAs for my life and thine I tremble now:\nFor, like a war-cloud, Hector\u2019s might I see\nO\u2019ershadowing all around; now is our doom\nApparent; but do thou for succour call\nOn all the chiefs, if haply they may hear.\u201d\nThus Ajax spoke: obedient to his word,\nOn all the chiefs Atrides call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nAll ye that banquet at the gen\u2019ral cost\nWith Atreus\u2019 sons, and o\u2019er your sev\u2019ral states\nDominion hold; whose honour is of Jove;\n\u2019Twere hard to call by name each single man,\nSo fierce the combat rages; but let each\nAnd all their aid afford, and deem, it shame\nPatroclus\u2019 corpse should glut the dogs of Troy.\u201d\n\nHe said: first heard Oileus\u2019 active son,\nAnd hast\u2019ning through the fray, beside him stood.\nNext him Idomeneus, with whom there came,\nValiant as Mars, his friend Meriones.\nBut who can know or tell the names of all,\nWho, following, swell\u2019d the battle of the Greeks?\nOnward the Trojans press\u2019d, by Hector led:\nWith such a sound, as when the ocean wave\nMeets on the beach th\u2019 outpouring of a stream,\nSwoll\u2019n by the rains of Heav\u2019n: the lofty cliffs\nResound, and bellows the big sea without;\nWith such a sound advanc\u2019d the Trojan host:\nWhile round Patroclus, with one heart and mind,\nThe Greeks a fence of brass-clad bucklers rais\u2019d.\nO\u2019er their bright helms the son of Saturn shed\nA veil of darkness; for Menoetius\u2019 son,\nAchilles\u2019 faithful friend, while yet he liv\u2019d\nJove hated not, nor would that now his corpse\nShould to the dogs of Troy remain a prey,\nBut to the rescue all his comrades stirr\u2019d.\nAt first the Trojans drove the keen-ey\u2019d Greeks;\nLeaving the corpse, they fled; nor with their spears\nThe valiant Trojans reach\u2019d a single Greek;\nBut on the dead they seiz\u2019d; yet not for long\nEndur\u2019d their flight; them Ajax rallied soon,\nIn form pre-eminent, and deeds of arms,\nO\u2019er all the Greeks, save Peleus\u2019 matchless son.\nOnward he sprang, as springs a mountain boar,\nWhich, turning in the forest glade to bay,\nScatters with ease both dogs and stalwart youths;\nSo Ajax scatter\u2019d soon the Trojan ranks,\nThat round Patroclus closing, hop\u2019d to bear,\nWith glory to themselves, his corpse to Troy.\nHippothous, Pelasgian Lethus\u2019 son,\nWas dragging by the feet the noble dead,\nA leathern belt around his ancles bound,\nSeeking the favour of the men of Troy;\nBut on himself he brought destruction down,\nWhich none might turn aside; for from the crowd\nOutsprang the son of Telamon, and struck,\nIn close encounter, on the brass-cheek\u2019d helm;\nThe plumed helm was shiver\u2019d by the blow,\nDealt by a weighty spear and stalwart hand;\nGush\u2019d from the wound the mingled blood and brain,\nHis vital spirit quench\u2019d; and on the ground\nFell from his pow\u2019rless grasp Patroclus\u2019 foot;\nWhile he himself lay stretch\u2019d beside the dead,\nFar from his own Larissa\u2019s teeming soil:\nNot destin\u2019d he his parents to repay\nTheir early care; for short his term of life,\nBy godlike Ajax\u2019 mighty spear subdu\u2019d.\n\nAt Ajax Hector threw his glitt\u2019ring spear:\nHe saw, and narrowly the brazen death\nEscap\u2019d; but Schedius, son of Iphitus,\n(The bravest of the Phocian chiefs, who dwelt\nIn far-fam\u2019d Panopeus, the mighty Lord\nOf num\u2019rous hosts,) below the collar-bone\nIt struck, and passing through, the brazen point\nCame forth again beneath his shoulder-blade:\nThund\u2019ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.\n\nAs Phorcys, son of Phaenops, kept his watch\nO\u2019er slain Hippothous, him Ajax smote\nBelow the waist; the weighty spear broke through\nThe hollow breastplate, and th\u2019 intestines tore;\nProne in the dust he fell, and clutch\u2019d the ground.\nAt this the Trojan chiefs and Hector\u2019s self\n\u2019Gan to give way; the Greeks, with joyful shouts,\nSeiz\u2019d both the dead, and stripp\u2019d their armour off.\nTo Ilium now, before the warlike Greeks,\nO\u2019ercome by panic, had the Trojans fled;\nAnd now had Greeks, despite the will of Jove,\nBy their own strength and courage, won the day,\nHad not Apollo\u2019s self \u00c6neas rous\u2019d,\nIn likeness of a herald, Periphas,\nThe son of Epytus, now aged grown\nIn service of \u00c6neas\u2019 aged sire,\nA man of kindliest soul: his form assum\u2019d\nApollo, and \u00c6neas thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201c\u00c6neas, how, against the will of Heav\u2019n,\nCould ye defend your city, as others now\nIn their own strength and courage confident,\nTheir numbers, and their troops\u2019 undaunted hearts,\nI see their cause maintaining; if when Jove\nRather to us than them the vict\u2019ry wills,\nWith fear unspeakable ye shun the fight?\u201d\n\nHe said: the presence of the Archer-God\n\u00c6neas knew, and loud to Hector call\u2019d:\n\u201cHector, and all ye other chiefs of Troy,\nAnd brave Allies, foul shame it were that we,\nO\u2019ercome by panic, should to Ilium now\nIn flight be driv\u2019n before the warlike Greeks;\nAnd by my side, but now, some God there stood,\nAnd told how Jove, the sov\u2019reign arbiter\nOf battle, on our side bestow\u2019d his aid;\nOn then! nor undisturbed allow the Greeks\nTo bear Patroclus\u2019 body to their ships.\u201d\n\nHe said, and far before the ranks advanc\u2019d;\nThey rallying turn\u2019d, and fac\u2019d again the Greeks.\nThen first \u00c6neas\u2019 spear the comrade brave\nOf Lycomedes struck, Laocritus,\nSon of Arisbas; Lycomedes saw\nWith pitying eyes his gallant comrade\u2019s fall;\nAnd standing near, his glitt\u2019ring spear he threw,\nAnd through the midriff Apisaon struck,\nHis people\u2019s guardian chief, the valiant son\nOf Hippasus, and slack\u2019d his limbs in death.\nHe from Paeonia\u2019s fertile fields had come,\nO\u2019er all his comrades eminent in fight,\nAll save Asteropaeus, who with eyes\nOf pity saw his gallant comrade\u2019s fall,\nAnd forward sprang to battle with the Greeks;\nYet could not force his way; for all around\nPatroclus rose a fence of serried shields,\nAnd spears projecting: such the orders giv\u2019n\nBy Ajax, and with earnest care enforc\u2019d;\nThat from around the dead should none retire,\nNor any to the front advance alone\nBefore his fellows; but their steady guard\nMaintain, and hand to hand the battle wage.\nSo order\u2019d Ajax; then with crimson blood\nThe earth was wet; and hand to hand they fell,\nTrojans alike, and brave Allies, and Greeks;\nFor neither these a bloodless fight sustain\u2019d,\nThough fewer far their losses; for they stood\nOf mutual succour mindful, and support.\nThus, furious as the rage of fire, they fought;\nNor might ye deem the glorious sun himself\nNor moon was safe; for darkest clouds of night\nO\u2019erspread the warriors, who the battle wag\u2019d\nAround the body of Menoetius\u2019 son:\nElsewhere the Trojans and the well-greav\u2019d Greeks\nFought, undisturb\u2019d, in the clear light of day;\nThe sun\u2019s bright beams were shed abroad; no cloud\nLay on the face of earth or mountain tops;\nThey but by fits, at distant intervals,\nAnd far apart, each seeking to avoid\nThe hostile missiles, fought; but in the midst\nThe bravest all, in darkness and in strife\nSore press\u2019d, toil\u2019d on beneath their armour\u2019s weight.\n\nAs yet no tidings of Patroclus\u2019 fall\nHad reach\u2019d two valiant chiefs, Antilochus\nAnd Thrasymedes; but they deem\u2019d him still\nAlive, and fighting in the foremost ranks.\nThey, witnessing their comrades\u2019 flight and death,\nFought on apart, by Nestor so enjoin\u2019d,\nWhen from the ships he bade them join the fray.\nGreat was meanwhile their labour, who sustain\u2019d,\nThroughout the livelong day, that weary fight;\nReek\u2019d with continuous toil and sweat, the knees,\nAnd legs and feet, the arms, and eyes, of all\nWho round Achilles\u2019 faithful comrade fought.\nAs when a chief his people bids to stretch\nA huge bull\u2019s hide, all drench\u2019d and soak\u2019d with grease;\nThey in a circle rang\u2019d, this way and that,\nPull the tough hide, till ent\u2019ring in, the grease\nIs all absorb\u2019d; and dragg\u2019d by num\u2019rous hands\nThe supple skin to th\u2019 utmost length is stretch\u2019d;\nSo these in narrow space this way and that\nThe body dragg\u2019d; and high the hopes of each\nTo bear it off in triumph; to their ships\nThe Greeks, to Troy the Trojans; fiercely rag\u2019d\nThe struggle; spirit-stirring Mars himself,\nOr Pallas to her utmost fury rous\u2019d,\nHad not that struggle with contempt beheld:\nSuch grievous labour o\u2019er Patroclus\u2019 corpse\nHad Jove to horses and to men decreed.\n\nBut of Patroclus\u2019 fall no tidings yet\nHad reach\u2019d Achilles; for the war was wag\u2019d\nFar from the ships, beneath the walls of Troy;\nNor look\u2019d he of his death to hear, but deem\u2019d\nThat when the Trojans to their gates were driv\u2019n,\nHe would return in safety; for no hope\nHad he of taking by assault the town,\nWith, or without, his aid; for oft apart\nHis Goddess-mother had his doom, foretold,\nRevealing to her son the mind of Jove;\nYet ne\u2019er had warn\u2019d him of such grief as this,\nWhich now befell, his dearest comrade\u2019s loss.\n\nStill round the dead they held their pointed spears,\nFought hand to hand, and mutual slaughter dealt;\nAnd thus perchance some brass-clad Greek would say:\n\n\u201cO friends, \u2019twere shameful should we to the ships\nIngloriously return; ere that should be,\nLet earth engulph us all; so better far\nThan let these Trojans to their city bear\nOur dead, and boast them of their triumph gain\u2019d.\u201d\nOn th\u2019 other hand some valiant Trojan thus\nWould shout: \u201cO friends, tho\u2019 fate decreed that here\nWe all should die, yet let not one give way.\u201d\n\nThus, cheering each his comrades, would they speak,\nAnd thus they fought; the iron clangour pierc\u2019d\nThe empty air, and brazen vault of Heav\u2019n.\nBut, from the fight withdrawn, Achilles\u2019 steeds\nWept, as they heard how in the dust was laid\nTheir charioteer, by Hector\u2019s murd\u2019rous hand.\nAutomedon, Diores\u2019 valiant son,\nEssay\u2019d in vain to rouse them with the lash,\nIn vain with honey\u2019d words, in vain with threats;\nNor to the ships would they return again\nBy the broad Hellespont, nor join the fray;\nBut as a column stands, which marks the tomb\nOf man or woman, so immovable\nBeneath the splendid car they stood, their heads\nDown-drooping to the ground, while scalding tears\nDropp\u2019d earthward from their eyelids, as they mourn\u2019d\nTheir charioteer; and o\u2019er the yoke-band shed\nDown stream\u2019d their ample manes, with dust defil\u2019d.\nThe son of Saturn pitying saw their grief,\nAnd sorrowing shook his head, as thus he mus\u2019d:\n\n\u201cAh, hapless horses! wherefore gave we you\nTo royal Peleus, to a mortal man,\nYou that from age and death are both exempt!\nWas it that you the miseries might share\nOf wretched mortals? for of all that breathe,\nAnd walk upon the earth, or creep, is nought\nMore wretched than th\u2019 unhappy race of man.\nYet shall not ye, nor shall your well-wrought car,\nBy Hector, son of Priam, be controll\u2019d;\nI will not suffer it; enough for him\nTo hold, with vaunting boast, Achilles\u2019 arms;\nBut to your limbs and spirits will I impart\nSuch strength, that from the battle to the ships\nYe shall in safety bear Automedon;\nFor yet I will the Trojans shall prevail,\nAnd slay, until they reach the well-mann\u2019d ships,\nTill sets the sun, and darkness shrouds the earth.\u201d\n\nHe said, and in their breasts fresh spirit infus\u2019d;\nThey, shaking from their manes the dust, the car\nAmid the Greeks and Trojans lightly bore.\nThen, as a vulture \u2019mid a flock of geese,\nAmid the battle rush\u2019d Automedon,\nHis horses\u2019 course directing, and their speed\nExciting, though he mourn\u2019d his comrade slain.\nSwiftly he fled from out the Trojan host;\nSwiftly again assail\u2019d them in pursuit;\nYet, speedy to pursue, he could not slay;\nNor, in the car alone, had pow\u2019r at once\nTo guide the flying steeds, and hurl the spear.\nAt length a comrade brave, Alcimedon,\nLaerces\u2019 son, beheld; behind the car\nHe stood, and thus Automedon address\u2019d:\n\u201cAutomedon, what God has fill\u2019d thy mind\nWith counsels vain, and thee of sense bereft?\nThat with the Trojans, in the foremost ranks,\nThou fain wouldst fight alone, thy comrade slain,\nWhile Hector proudly on his breast displays\nThe glorious arms of great \u00c6acides.\u201d\n\nTo whom Automedon, Diores\u2019 son:\n\u201cAlcimedon, since none of all the Greeks\nMay vie with thee, the mettle to control\nOf these immortal horses, save indeed,\nWhile yet he liv\u2019d, Patroclus, godlike chief;\nBut him stern death and fate have overta\u2019en;\nTake thou the whip and shining reins, while I,\nDescending from the car, engage in fight.\u201d\n\nHe said; and, mounting on the war-car straight,\nAlcimedon the whip and reins assum\u2019d;\nDown leap\u2019d Automedon; great Hector saw,\nAnd thus address\u2019d \u00c6neas at his side:\n\n\u201c\u00c6neas, prince and counsellor of Troy,\nI see, committed to unskilful hands,\nAchilles\u2019 horses on the battle-field:\nThese we may hope to take, if such thy will;\nFor they, methinks, will scarcely stand oppos\u2019d,\nOr dare th\u2019 encounter of our joint assault.\u201d\n\nHe said; Anchises\u2019 valiant son complied;\nForward they went, their shoulders cover\u2019d o\u2019er\nWith stout bull\u2019s-hide, thick overlaid with brass.\nWith them both Chromius and Aretus went;\n\nAnd high their hopes were rais\u2019d, the warriors both\nTo slay, and make the strong-neck\u2019d steeds their prize:\nBlind fools! nor destin\u2019d scatheless to escape\nAutomedon\u2019s encounter; he his pray\u2019r\nTo Jove address\u2019d, and straight with added strength\nHis soul was fill\u2019d; and to Alcimedon,\nHis trusty friend and comrade, thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cAlcimedon, do thou the horses keep\nNot far away, but breathing on my neck;\nFor Hector\u2019s might will not, I deem, be stay\u2019d,\nEre us he slay, and mount Achilles\u2019 car,\nAnd carry terror \u2019mid the Grecian host,\nOr in the foremost ranks himself be slain.\u201d\n\nThus spoke Automedon, and loudly call\u2019d\nOn Menelaus and th\u2019 Ajaces both:\n\u201cYe two Ajaces, leaders of the host,\nAnd, Menelaus, with our bravest all,\nYe on the dead alone your care bestow,\nTo guard him, and stave off the hostile ranks;\nBut haste, and us, the living, save from death;\nFor Hector and \u00c6neas hitherward,\nWith weight o\u2019erpow\u2019ring, through the bloody press,\nThe bravest of the Trojans, force their way:\nYet is the issue in the hands of Heav\u2019n;\nI hurl the spear, but Jove directs the blow.\u201d\n\nHe said, and, poising, hurl\u2019d the pond\u2019rous spear;\nFull on Aretus\u2019 broad-orb\u2019d shield it struck;\nNor stay\u2019d the shield its course; the brazen point\nDrove through the belt, and in his body lodg\u2019d.\nAs with sharp axe in hand a stalwart man,\nStriking behind the horns a sturdy bull,\nSevers the neck; he, forward, plunging, falls;\nSo forward first he sprang, then backwards fell:\nAnd quiv\u2019ring, in his vitals deep infix\u2019d,\nThe sharp spear soon relax\u2019d his limbs in death.\nThen at Automedon great Hector threw\nHis glitt\u2019ring spear; he saw, and forward stoop\u2019d,\nAnd shunn\u2019d the brazen death; behind him far\nDeep in the soil infix\u2019d, with quiv\u2019ring shaft\nThe weapon stood; there Mars its impulse stay\u2019d.\nAnd now with swords, and hand to hand, the fight\nHad been renew\u2019d; but at their comrade\u2019s call\nThe two Ajaces, pressing through the throng,\nBetween the warriors interpos\u2019d in haste.\nBefore them Hector and \u00c6neas both,\nAnd godlike Chromius, in alarm recoil\u2019d;\nPierc\u2019d through the heart, Aretus there they left;\nAnd, terrible as Mars, Automedon\nStripp\u2019d off his arms, and thus exulting cried:\n\u201cOf some small portion of its load of grief,\nFor slain Patroclus, is my heart reliev\u2019d,\nIn slaying thee, all worthless as thou art.\u201d\n\nThen, throwing on the car the bloody spoils,\nHe mounted, hands and feet imbrued with blood,\nAs \u2019twere a lion, fresh from his repast\nUpon the carcase of a slaughter\u2019d bull.\n\nAgain around Patroclus\u2019 body rag\u2019d\nThe stubborn conflict, direful, sorrow-fraught:\nFrom Heav\u2019n descending, Pallas stirr\u2019d the strife,\nSent by all-seeing Jove to stimulate\nThe warlike Greeks; so changed was now his will.\nAs o\u2019er the face of Heav\u2019n when Jove extends\nHis bright-hued bow, a sign to mortal men\nOf war, or wintry storms, which bid surcease\nThe rural works of man, and pinch the flocks;\nSo Pallas, in a bright-hued cloud array\u2019d,\nPass\u2019d through the ranks, and rous\u2019d each sev\u2019ral man.\nTo noble Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son,\nWho close beside her stood, the Goddess first,\nThe form of Phoenix and his pow\u2019rful voice\nAssuming, thus her stirring words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cOn thee, O Menelaus, foul reproach\nWill fasten, if Achilles\u2019 faithful friend\nThe dogs devour beneath the walls of Troy;\nThen hold thou firm, and all the host inspire.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Menelaus, good in fight:\n\u201cO Phoenix, aged warrior, honour\u2019d sire,\nIf Pallas would the needful pow\u2019r impart,\nAnd o\u2019er me spread her aegis, then would I\nUndaunted for Patroclus\u2019 rescue fight,\nFor deeply by his death my heart is touch\u2019d;\nBut valiant Hector, with the strength of fire\nStill rages, and destruction deals around:\nFor Jove is with him, and his triumph wills.\u201d\n\nHe said: the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess heard with joy\nThat, chief of all the Gods, her aid he sought.\nShe gave fresh vigour to his arms and knees,\nAnd to his breast the boldness of the fly,\nWhich, oft repell\u2019d by man, renews th\u2019 assault\nIncessant, lur\u2019d by taste of human blood;\nSuch boldness in Atrides\u2019 manly breast\nPallas inspir\u2019d: beside Patroclus\u2019 corpse\nAgain he stood, and pois\u2019d his glitt\u2019ring spear.\n\nThere was one Podes in the Trojan ranks,\nSon of Eetion, rich, of blameless life,\nOf all the people most to Hector dear,\nAnd at his table oft a welcome guest:\nHim, as he turn\u2019d to fly, beneath the waist\nAtrides struck; right through the spear was driv\u2019n;\nThund\u2019ring he fell; and Atreus\u2019 son the corpse\nDragg\u2019d from the Trojans \u2019mid the ranks of Greece.\n\nThen close at Hector\u2019s side Apollo stood,\nClad in the form of Phaenops, Asius\u2019 son,\nWho in Abydos dwelt; of all th\u2019 Allies\nHonour\u2019d of Hector most, and best belov\u2019d;\nClad in his form, the Far-destroyer spoke:\n\n\u201cHector, what other Greek will scare thee next?\nWho shrink\u2019st from Menelaus, heretofore\nA warrior deem\u2019d of no repute; but now,\nAlone, he robs our Trojans of their dead;\nAnd in the foremost ranks e\u2019en now hath slain\nPodes, thine own good friend, Eetion\u2019s son.\u201d\n\nHe said; dark grief o\u2019erclouded Hector\u2019s brow,\nAs to the front in dazzling arms he sprang.\nThen Saturn\u2019s son his tassell\u2019d aegis wav\u2019d,\nAll glitt\u2019ring bright; and Ida\u2019s lofty head\nIn clouds and darkness shrouded; then he bade\nHis lightning flash, his volleying thunder roar,\nThat shook the mountain; and with vict\u2019ry crown\u2019d\nThe Trojan arms, and panic-struck the Greeks.\n\nThe first who turn\u2019d to fly was Peneleus,\nB\u0153otian chief; him, facing still the foe,\nA spear had slightly on the shoulder struck,\nThe bone just grazing: by Polydamas,\nWho close before him stood, the spear was thrown.\nThen Hector Leitus, Aloctryon\u2019s son,\nThrust thro\u2019 the wrist, and quell\u2019d his warlike might;\nTrembling, he look\u2019d around, nor hop\u2019d again\nThe Trojans, spear in hand, to meet in fight;\nBut, onward as he rush\u2019d on Leitus,\nIdomeneus at Hector threw his spear:\nFull on his breast it struck; but near the head\nThe sturdy shaft was on the breastplate snapp\u2019d:\nLoud was the Trojans\u2019 shout; and he in turn\nAim\u2019d at Idomeneus, Deucalion\u2019s son,\nUpstanding on his car; his mark he miss\u2019d,\nBut Coeranus he struck, the charioteer\nAnd faithful follower of Meriones,\nWho with him came from Lyctus\u2019 thriving town:\nThe chief had left on foot the well-trimm\u2019d ships;\nAnd, had not Coeranus his car in haste\nDriv\u2019n to the rescue, by his fall had giv\u2019n\nA Trojan triumph; to his Lord he brought\nSafety, and rescue from unsparing death;\nBut fell, himself, by Hector\u2019s murd\u2019rous hand.\nHim Hector struck between the cheek and ear,\nCrashing the teeth, and cutting through the tongue.\nHeadlong he fell to earth, and dropp\u2019d the reins:\nThese, stooping from the car, Meriones\nCaught up, and thus Idomeneus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cPly now the lash, until thou reach the ships:\nThyself must see how crush\u2019d the strength of Greece.\u201d\n\nHe said; and tow\u2019rd the ships Idomeneus\nUrg\u2019d his fleet steeds; for fear was on his soul.\nNor did not Ajax and Atrides see\nHow in the Trojans\u2019 favour Saturn\u2019s son\nThe wav\u2019ring scale of vict\u2019ry turn\u2019d; and thus\nGreat Ajax Telamon his grief express\u2019d:\n\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n! the veriest child might plainly see\nThat Jove the Trojans\u2019 triumph has decreed:\nTheir weapons all, by whomsoever thrown,\nOr weak, or strong, attain their mark; for Jove\nDirects their course; while ours upon the plain\nInnocuous fall. But take we counsel now\nHow from the fray to bear away our dead,\nAnd by our own return rejoice those friends\nWho look with sorrow on our plight, and deem\nThat we, all pow\u2019rless to resist the might\nOf Hector\u2019s arm, beside the ships must fall.\nWould that some comrade were at hand, to bear\nA message to Achilles; him, I ween,\nAs yet the mournful tidings have not reach\u2019d,\nThat on the field his dearest friend lies dead.\nBut such I see not; for a veil of cloud\nO\u2019er men and horses all around is spread.\nO Father Jove, from, o\u2019er the sons of Greece\nRemove this cloudy darkness; clear the sky,\nThat we may see our fate, and die at least,\nIf such thy will, in th\u2019 open light of day.\u201d\n\nHe said, and, pitying, Jove beheld his tears;\nThe clouds he scatter\u2019d, and the mist dispers\u2019d;\nThe sun shone forth, and all the field was clear;\nThen Ajax thus to Menelaus spoke:\n\n\u201cNow, Heav\u2019n-born Menelaus, look around\nIf haply \u2019mid the living thou mayst see\nAntilochus, the noble Nestor\u2019s son;\nAnd bid him to Achilles bear in haste\nThe tidings, that his dearest friend lies dead.\u201d\n\nHe said, nor did Atrides not comply;\nBut slow as moves a lion from the fold,\nWhich dogs and youths with ceaseless toil hath worn,\nWho all night long have kept their watch, to guard\nFrom his assault the choicest of the herd;\nHe, hunger-pinch\u2019d, hath oft th\u2019 attempt renew\u2019d,\nBut nought prevail\u2019d; by spears on ev\u2019ry side,\nAnd jav\u2019lins met, wielded by stalwart hands,\nAnd blazing torches, which his courage daunt;\nTill with the morn he sullenly withdraws;\nSo from Patroclus, with reluctant step\nAtrides mov\u2019d; for much he fear\u2019d the Greeks\nMight to the Trojans, panic-struck, the dead\nAbandon; and departing, he besought\nThe two Ajaces and Meriones:\n\u201cYe two Ajaces, leaders of the Greeks,\nAnd thou, Meriones, remember now\nOur lost Patroclus\u2019 gentle courtesy,\nHow kind and genial was his soul to all,\nWhile yet he liv\u2019d\u2014now sunk, alas! in death.\u201d\n\nThus saying, Menelaus took his way,\nCasting his glance around on ev\u2019ry side,\nLike to an eagle, fam\u2019d of sharpest sight\nOf all that fly beneath the vault of Heav\u2019n;\nWhom, soaring in the clouds, the crouching hare\nEludes not, though in leafiest covert hid;\nBut swooping down, he rends her life away:\nSo, Menelaus, through the ranks of war\nThy piercing glances ev\u2019ry way were turn\u2019d,\nIf Nestor\u2019s son, alive, thou mightst descry;\nHim on the field\u2019s extremest left he found,\nCheering his friends, and urging to the fight;\nHe stood beside him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, come hither, godlike friend,\nAnd woful tidings hear, which would to Heav\u2019n\nI had not to impart; thyself thou seest\nHow Jove hath heap\u2019d disaster on the Greeks,\nAnd vict\u2019ry giv\u2019n to Troy; but one has fallen,\nOur bravest, best! Patroclus lies in death;\nAnd deeply must the Greeks his loss deplore.\nBut haste thee to the ships, to Peleus\u2019 son\nThe tidings bear, if haply he may save\nThe body of Patroclus from the foe;\nHis naked body, for his arms are now\nThe prize of Hector of the glancing helm.\u201d\n\nHe said; and at his words Antilochus\nAstounded stood; long time his tongue in vain\nFor utt\u2019rance strove; his eyes were fill\u2019d with tears,\nHis cheerful voice was mute; yet not the less\nTo Menelaus\u2019 bidding gave his care:\nSwiftly he sped; but to Laodocus,\nHis comrade brave, who waited with his car\nIn close attendance, first consign\u2019d his arms;\nThen from the field with active limbs he flew,\nWeeping, with mournful news, to Peleus\u2019 son.\nNor, noble Menelaus, did thy heart\nIncline thee to remain, and aid thy friends,\nWhere from their war-worn ranks the Pylian troops\nDeplor\u2019d the absence of Antilochus;\nBut these in godlike Thrasymedes\u2019 charge\nHe left; and to Patroclus hast\u2019ning back,\nBeside th\u2019 Ajaces stood, as thus he spoke:\n\u201cHim to Achilles, to the ships, in haste\nI have despatch\u2019d; yet fiercely as his wrath\nMay burn tow\u2019rd Hector, I can scarce expect\nHis presence here; for how could he, unarm\u2019d,\nWith Trojans fight? But take we counsel now\nHow from the field to bear away our dead,\nAnd \u2019scape ourselves from death by Trojan hands.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus great Ajax Telamon:\n\u201cIllustrious Menelaus, all thy words\nAre just and true; then from amid the press,\nThou and Meriones, take up in haste,\nAnd bear away the body; while behind\nWe two, in heart united, as in name,\nWho side by side have still been wont to fight,\nWill Hector and his Trojans hold at bay.\u201d\n\nHe said; they, lifting in their arms the corpse,\nUprais\u2019d it high in air; then from behind\nLoud yell\u2019d the Trojans, as they saw the Greeks\nRetiring with their dead; and on they rush\u2019d,\nAs dogs that in advance of hunter youths\nPursue a wounded boar; awhile they run,\nEager for blood; but when, in pride of strength,\nHe turns upon them, backward they recoil,\nThis way and that in fear of death dispers\u2019d:\nSo onward press\u2019d awhile the Trojan crowd,\nWith thrust of swords, and double-pointed spears;\nBut ever as th\u2019 Ajaces turn\u2019d to bay,\nTheir colour chang\u2019d to pale, not one so bold\nAs, dashing on, to battle for the corpse.\nThus they, with anxious care, from off the field\nBore tow\u2019rd the ships their dead; but on their track\nCame sweeping on the storm of battle, fierce,\nAs, on a sudden breaking forth, the fire\nSeizes some populous city, and devours\nHouse after house amid the glare and blaze,\nWhile roar the flames before the gusty wind;\nSo fiercely pressed upon the Greeks\u2019 retreat\nThe clatt\u2019ring tramp of steeds and armed men.\nBut as the mules, with stubborn strength endued,\nThat down the mountain through the trackless waste\nDrag some huge log, or timber for the ships;\nAnd spent with toil and sweat, still labour on\nUnflinching; so the Greeks with patient toil\nBore on their dead; th\u2019 Ajaces in their rear\nStemming the war, as stems the torrent\u2019s force\nSome wooded cliff, far stretching o\u2019er the plain;\nChecking the mighty river\u2019s rushing stream,\nAnd flinging it aside upon the plain,\nItself unbroken by the strength of flood:\nSo firmly, in the rear, th\u2019 Ajaces stemm\u2019d\nThe Trojan force; yet these still onward press\u2019d,\nAnd, \u2019mid their comrades proudly eminent,\nTwo chiefs, \u00c6neas, old Anchises\u2019 son,\nAnd glorious Hector, in the van were seen.\nThen, as a cloud of starlings or of daws\nFly screaming, as they see the hawk approach,\nTo lesser birds the messenger of death;\nSo before Hector and \u00c6neas fled,\nScreaming, forgetful of their warlike fame,\nThe sons of Greece; and scatter\u2019d here and there\nAround the ditch lay store of goodly arms,\nBy Greeks abandon\u2019d in their hasty flight.\nYet still, unintermitted, rag\u2019d the war.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE GRIEF OF ACHILLES, AND NEW ARMOUR MADE HIM BY VULCAN.\n\n\nThe news of the death of Patroclus is brought to Achilles by\nAntilochus. Thetis hearing his lamentations, comes with all her sea-\nnymphs to comfort him. The speeches of the mother and son on this\noccasion. Iris appears to Achilles by command of Juno, and orders him\nto show himself at the head of the intrenchments. The sight of him\nturns the fortune of the day, and the body of Patroclus is carried off\nby the Greeks. The Trojans call a council, where Hector and Polydamas\ndisagree in their opinions; but the advice of the former prevails, to\nremain encamped in the field. The grief of Achilles over the body of\nPatroclus.\n\nThetis goes to the palace of Vulcan, to obtain new arms for her son.\nThe description of the wonderful works of Vulcan; and, lastly, that\nnoble one of the shield of Achilles.\n\nThe latter part of the nine-and-twentieth day, and the night ensuing,\ntake up this book. The scene is at Achilles\u2019 tent on the seashore, from\nwhence it changes to the palace of Vulcan.\n\nBOOK XVIII.\n\nThus, furious as the rage of fire, they fought.\nMeantime Antilochus to Peleus\u2019 son,\nSwift-footed messenger, his tidings bore.\nHim by the high-beak\u2019d ships he found, his mind\nTh\u2019 event presaging, fill\u2019d with anxious thoughts,\nAs thus he commun\u2019d with his mighty heart:\n\n\u201cAlas! what means it, that the long-hair\u2019d Greeks,\nChas\u2019d from the plain, are thronging round the ships?\nLet me not now, ye Gods, endure the grief\nMy mother once foretold, that I should live\nTo see the bravest of the Myrmidons\nCut off by Trojans from the light of day.\nMenoetius\u2019 noble son has surely fall\u2019n;\nFoolhardy! yet I warn\u2019d him, and besought,\nSoon as the ships from hostile fires were safe,\nBack to return, nor Hector\u2019s onset meet.\u201d\n\nWhile in his mind and spirit thus he mus\u2019d,\nBeside him stood the noble Nestor\u2019s son,\nAnd weeping, thus his mournful message gave:\n\n\u201cAlas! great son of Peleus, woful news,\nWhich would to Heav\u2019n I had not to impart,\nTo thee I bring; Patroclus lies in death;\nAnd o\u2019er his body now the war is wag\u2019d;\nHis naked body, for his arms are now\nThe prize of Hector of the glancing helm.\u201d\n\nHe said; and darkest clouds of grief o\u2019erspread\nAchilles\u2019 brow; with both his hands he seiz\u2019d\nAnd pour\u2019d upon his head the grimy dust,\nMarring his graceful visage; and defil\u2019d\nWith black\u2019ning ashes all his costly robes.\nStretch\u2019d in the dust his lofty stature lay,\nAs with his hands his flowing locks he tore;\nLoud was the wailing of the female band,\nAchilles\u2019 and Patroclus\u2019 prize of war,\nAs round Achilles, rushing out of doors,\nBeating their breasts, with tott\u2019ring limbs they press\u2019d.\nIn tears beside him stood Antilochus,\nAnd in his own Achilles\u2019 hand he held,\nGroaning in spirit, fearful lest for grief\nIn his own bosom he should sheathe his sword.\nLoud were his moans; his Goddess-mother heard,\nBeside her aged father where she sat\nIn the deep ocean caves; she heard, and wept:\nThe Nereids all, in ocean\u2019s depths who dwell,\nEncircled her around; Cymodoce,[5]\nNesaee, Spio, and Cymothoe,\nThe stag-ey\u2019d Halia, and Amphithoe,\nActaea, Limnorea, Melite,\nDoris, and Galatea, Panope;\nThere too were Oreithyia, Clymene,\nAnd Amathea with the golden hair,\nAnd all the denizens of ocean\u2019s depths.\nFill\u2019d was the glassy cave; in unison\nThey beat their breasts, as Thetis led the wail:\n\n\u201cGive ear, my sister Nereids all, and learn\nHow deep the grief that in my breast I bear.\nMe miserable! me, of noblest son\nUnhappiest mother! me, a son who bore,\nMy brave, my beautiful, of heroes chief!\nLike a young tree he throve: I tended him,\nIn a rich vineyard as the choicest plant;\nTill in the beaked ships I sent him forth\nTo war with Troy; him ne\u2019er shall I behold,\nReturning home, in aged Peleus\u2019 house.\nE\u2019en while he lives, and sees the light of day,\nHe lives in sorrow; nor, to soothe his grief,\nMy presence can avail; yet will I go,\nThat I may see my dearest child, and learn\nWhat grief hath reach\u2019d him, from the war withdrawn.\u201d\n\nShe said, and left the cave; with her they went,\nWeeping; before them parted th\u2019 ocean wave.\nBut when they reach\u2019d the fertile shore of Troy,\nIn order due they landed on the beach,\nWhere frequent, round Achilles swift of foot,\nWere moor\u2019d the vessels of the Myrmidons.\nThere, as he groan\u2019d aloud, beside him stood\nHis Goddess-mother; weeping, in her hands\nShe held his head, while pitying thus she spoke:\n\n\u201cWhy weeps my son? and what his cause of grief?\nSpeak out, and nought conceal; for all thy pray\u2019r\nWhich with uplifted hands thou mad\u2019st to Jove,\nHe hath fulfill\u2019d, that, flying to their ships,\nThe routed sons of Greece should feel how much\nThey need thine aid, and mourn their insult past.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles, deeply groaning, thus:\n\u201cMother, all this indeed hath Jove fulfill\u2019d;\nYet what avails it, since my dearest friend\nIs slain, Patroclus? whom I honour\u2019d most\nOf all my comrades, lov\u2019d him as my soul.\nHim have I lost: and Hector from his corpse\nHath stripp\u2019d those arms, those weighty, beauteous arms,\nA marvel to behold, which from the Gods\nPeleus receiv\u2019d, a glorious gift, that day\nWhen they consign\u2019d thee to a mortal\u2019s bed.\nHow better were it, if thy lot had been\nStill \u2019mid the Ocean deities to dwell,\nAnd Peleus had espous\u2019d a mortal bride!\nFor now is bitter grief for thee in store,\nMourning thy son; whom to his home return\u2019d\nThou never more shalt see; nor would I wish\nTo live, and move amid my fellow-men,\nUnless that Hector, vanquish\u2019d by my spear,\nMay lose his forfeit life, and pay the price\nOf foul dishonour to Patroclus done.\u201d\n\nTo whom, her tears o\u2019erflowing, Thetis thus:\n\u201cE\u2019en as thou sayst, my son, thy term is short;\nNor long shall Hector\u2019s fate precede thine own.\u201d\n\nAchilles, answ\u2019ring, spoke in passionate grief:\n\u201cWould I might die this hour, who fail\u2019d to save\nMy comrade slain! far from his native land\nHe died, sore needing my protecting arm;\nAnd I, who ne\u2019er again must see my home,\nNor to Patroclus, nor the many Greeks\nWhom Hector\u2019s hand hath slain, have render\u2019d aid;\nBut idly here I sit, cumb\u2019ring the ground:\nI, who amid the Greeks no equal own\nIn fight; to others, in debate, I yield.\nAccurs\u2019d of Gods and men be hateful strife\nAnd anger, which to violence provokes\nE\u2019en temp\u2019rate souls: though sweeter be its taste\nThan dropping honey, in the heart of man\nSwelling, like smoke; such anger in my soul\nHath Agamemnon kindled, King of men.\nBut pass we that; though still my heart be sore,\nYet will I school my angry spirit down.\nIn search of Hector now, of him who slew\nMy friend, I go; prepar\u2019d to meet my death,\nWhen Jove shall will it, and th\u2019 Immortals all.\nFrom death not e\u2019en the might of Hercules,\nThough best belov\u2019d of Saturn\u2019s son, could fly,\nBy fate and Juno\u2019s bitter wrath subdued.\nI too, since such my doom, must lie in death;\nYet, ere I die, immortal fame will win;\nAnd from their delicate cheeks, deep-bosom\u2019d dames,\nDardan and Trojan, bitter tears shall wipe,\nAnd groan in anguish; then shall all men know\nHow long I have been absent from the field;\nThen, though thou love me, seek not from the war\nTo stay my steps; for bootless were thy speech.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the silver-footed Queen:\n\u201cTrue are thy words, my son; and good it is,\nAnd commendable, from the stroke of death\nTo save a worsted comrade; but thine arms,\nThy brazen, flashing arms, the Trojans hold:\nThem Hector of the glancing helm himself\nBears on his breast, exulting; yet not long\nShall be his triumph, for his doom is nigh.\nBut thou, engage not in the toils of war,\nUntil thine eyes again behold me here;\nFor with to-morrow\u2019s sun will I return\nWith arms of heav\u2019nly mould, by Vulcan wrought.\u201d\n\nThus saying, from her son she turn\u2019d away,\nAnd turning, to her sister Nereids spoke:\n\u201cBack to the spacious bosom of the deep\nRetire ye now; and to my father\u2019s house,\nThe aged Ocean God, your tidings bear;\nWhile I to high Olympus speed, to crave\nAt Vulcan\u2019s hand, the skill\u2019d artificer,\nA boon of dazzling armour for my son.\u201d\n\nShe said; and they beneath the ocean wave\nDescended, while to high Olympus sped\nThe silver-footed Goddess, thence in hope\nTo bear the dazzling armour to her son.\nShe to Olympus sped; the Greeks meanwhile\nBefore the warrior-slayer Hector fled\nWith wild, tumultuous uproar, till they reach\u2019d\nTheir vessels and the shore of Hellespont.\nNor had the well-greav\u2019d Greeks Achilles\u2019 friend,\nPatroclus, from amid the fray withdrawn;\nFor close upon him follow\u2019d horse and man,\nAnd Hector, son of Priam, fierce as flame;\nThrice noble Hector, seizing from behind,\nSought by the feet to drag away the dead,\nCheering his friends; thrice, clad in warlike might,\nThe two Ajaces drove him from his prey.\nYet, fearless in his strength, now rushing on\nHe dash\u2019d amid the fray; now, shouting loud,\nStood firm; but backward not a step retir\u2019d.\nAs from a carcase herdsmen strive in vain\nTo scare a tawny lion, hunger-pinch\u2019d;\nE\u2019en so th\u2019 Ajaces, mail-clad warriors, fail\u2019d\nThe son of Priam from the corpse to scare.\nAnd now the body had he borne away,\nWith endless fame; but from Olympus\u2019 height\nCame storm-swift Iris down to Peleus\u2019 son,\nAnd bade him don his arms; by Juno sent,\nUnknown to Jove, and to th\u2019 Immortals all.\nShe stood beside him, and address\u2019d him thus:\n\n\u201cUp, son of Peleus! up, thou prince of men!\nHaste to Patroclus\u2019 rescue; whom, around,\nBefore the ships, is wag\u2019d a fearful war,\nWith mutual slaughter; these the dead defending,\nAnd those to Ilium\u2019s breezy heights intent\nTo bear the body; noble Hector chief,\nWho longs to sever from the tender neck,\nAnd fix upon the spikes, thy comrade\u2019s head.\nUp then! delay no longer; deem it shame\nPatroclus\u2019 corpse should glut the dogs of Troy,\nDishon\u2019ring thee, if aught dishonour him.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cSay, heav\u2019nly Iris, of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nWho bade thee seek me, and this message bring?\u201d\n\nTo whom swift Iris thus: \u201cTo thee I come\nBy Juno sent, th\u2019 imperial wife of Jove;\nUnknown to Saturn\u2019s son, and all the Gods\nWho on Olympus\u2019 snowy summit dwell.\u201d\n\nTo whom again Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cHow in the battle toil can I engage?\nMy arms are with the Trojans; and to boot\nMy mother warn\u2019d me not to arm for fight,\nTill I again should see her; for she hop\u2019d\nTo bring me heav\u2019nly arms by Vulcan wrought:\nNor know I well whose armour I could wear,\nSave the broad shield of Ajax Telamon\nAnd he, methinks, amid the foremost ranks\nEv\u2019n now is fighting o\u2019er Patroclus\u2019 corpse.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d storm-swift Iris: \u201cWell we know\nThy glorious arms are by the Trojans held;\nBut go thou forth, and from above the ditch\nAppear before them; daunted at the sight,\nHaply the Trojans may forsake the field,\nAnd breathing-time afford the sons of Greece,\nToil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs.\u201d\n\nSwift Iris said, and vanish\u2019d; then uprose\nAchilles, dear to Jove; and Pallas threw\nHer tassell\u2019d aegis o\u2019er his shoulders broad;\nHis head encircling with a coronet\nOf golden cloud, whence fiery flashes gleam\u2019d.\nAs from an island city up to Heav\u2019n\nThe smoke ascends, which hostile forces round\nBeleaguer, and all day with cruel war\nFrom its own state cut off; but when the sun\nHath set, blaze frequent forth the beacon fires;\nHigh rise the flames, and to the dwellers round\nTheir signal flash, if haply o\u2019er the sea\nMay come the needful aid; so brightly flash\u2019d\nThat fiery light around Achilles\u2019 head.\nHe left the wall, and stood above the ditch,\nBut from the Greeks apart, rememb\u2019ring well\nHis mother\u2019s prudent counsel; there he stood,\nAnd shouted loudly; Pallas join\u2019d her voice,\nAnd fill\u2019d with terror all the Trojan host.\nClear as the trumpet\u2019s sound, which calls to arms\nSome town, encompass\u2019d round with hostile bands,\nRang out the voice of great \u00c6acides.\nBut when Achilles\u2019 voice of brass they heard,\nThey quail\u2019d in spirit; the sleek-skin\u2019d steeds themselves,\nConscious of coming ill, bore back the cars:\nTheir charioteers, dismay\u2019d, beheld the flame\nWhich, kindled by the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess, blaz\u2019d\nUnquench\u2019d around the head of Peleus\u2019 son.\nThrice shouted from the ditch the godlike chief;\nThrice terror struck both Trojans and Allies;\nAnd there and then beside their chariots fell\nTwelve of their bravest; while the Greeks, well pleas\u2019d,\nPatroclus\u2019 body from the fray withdrew,\nAnd on a litter laid; around him stood\nHis comrades mourning; with them, Peleus\u2019 son,\nShedding hot tears, as on his friend he gaz\u2019d,\nLaid on the bier, and pierc\u2019d with deadly wounds:\nHim to the war with horses and with cars\nHe sent; but ne\u2019er to welcome his return.\nBy stag-ey\u2019d Juno sent, reluctant sank\nTh\u2019 unwearied sun beneath the ocean wave;\nThe sun had set, and breath\u2019d awhile the Greeks\nFrom the fierce labours of the balanc\u2019d field;\nNor less the Trojans, from the stubborn fight\nRetiring, from the chariots loos\u2019d their steeds:\nBut ere they shar\u2019d the ev\u2019ning meal, they met\nIn council; all stood up; none dar\u2019d to sit;\nFor fear had fallen on all, when reappear\u2019d\nAchilles, from the battle long withdrawn.\nFirst Panthous\u2019 son, the sage Polydamas,\nAddress\u2019d th\u2019 assembly; his sagacious mind\nAlone beheld the future and the past;\nThe friend of Hector, born the selfsame night;\nOne in debate, the other best in arms;\nWho thus with prudent speech began, and said:\n\n\u201cBe well advis\u2019d, my friends! my counsel is\nThat we regain the city, nor the morn\nHere in the plain, beside the ships, await,\nSo far remov\u2019d from our protecting walls.\nWhile fiercely burn\u2019d \u2019gainst Atreus\u2019 godlike son\nThat mighty warrior\u2019s wrath, \u2019twas easier far\nWith th\u2019 other Greeks to deal; and I rejoic\u2019d\nWhen by the ships we pass\u2019d the night, in hopes\nWe soon might call them ours; but now, I own\nAchilles, swift of foot, excites my fear.\nHis proud, impetuous spirit will spurn the plain,\nWhere Greeks and Trojans oft in warlike strife\nTheir balanc\u2019d strength exert; if he come forth,\nOur fight will be to guard our homes and wives.\nGain we the city; trust me, so \u2019twere best.\nNow, for a while, ambrosial night detains\nThe son of Peleus; but at early morn\nIf issuing forth in arms he find us here,\nHis prowess we shall know; and happy he\nWho, flying, shall in safety reach the walls\nOf sacred Troy; for many a Trojan slain\nShall feed the vultures; Heav\u2019n avert such fate!\nBut if, though loth, ye will by me be rul\u2019d,\nThis night in council husband we our strength;\nWhile tow\u2019rs, and lofty gates, and folding doors\nClose join\u2019d, well-fitting, shall our city guard:\nThen issuing forth in arms at early morn\nMan we the tow\u2019rs; so harder were his task\nIf, from the ships advancing, round the wall\nHe offer battle; bootless to return,\nHis strong-neck\u2019d horses worn with labour vain\nIn coursing, purposeless, around the town.\nTo force an entrance, or the town destroy,\nIs not his aim; and ere that end be gain\u2019d,\nThe dogs of Troy upon his flesh shall feed.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm\nWith stern regard: \u201cPolydamas, thy words\nAre such as grate unkindly on mine ear,\nWho fain wouldst have us to the walls retire.\nWhat? have ye not already long enough\nBeen coop\u2019d within the tow\u2019rs? the wealth of Troy,\nIts brass, its gold, were once the common theme\nOf ev\u2019ry tongue; our hoarded treasures now\nAre gone, to Phrygian and Maeonian shores\nFor sale exported, costly merchandise,\nSince on our city fell the wrath of Jove.\nAnd now, when deep-designing Saturn\u2019s son\nSuch glory gives me as to gain the ships,\nAnd, crowded by the sea, hem in the Greeks,\nFool! put not thou these timid counsels forth,\nWhich none will follow, nor will I allow.\nBut hear ye all, and do as I advise:\nShare now the meal, by ranks, throughout the host;\nThen set your watch, and each keep careful guard;\nAnd whom his spoils o\u2019erload, if such there be,\nLet him divide them with the gen\u2019ral crowd;\nBetter that they should hold them than the Greeks:\nAnd with the morn, in arms, beside the ships,\nWill we again awake the furious war.\nBut if indeed Achilles by the ships\nHath reappear\u2019d, himself, if so he choose,\nShall be the suff\u2019rer; from the perilous strife\nI will not shrink, but his encounter meet:\nSo he, or I, shall gain immortal fame;\nImpartial Mars hath oft the slayer slain.\u201d\n\nThus Hector spoke; the Trojans cheer\u2019d aloud:\nFools, and by Pallas of their sense bereft,\nWho all applauded Hector\u2019s ill advice,\nNone the sage counsel of Polydamas!\nThen through the camp they shar\u2019d the ev\u2019ning meal.\n\nMeantime the Greeks all night with tears and groans\nBewail\u2019d Patroclus: on his comrade\u2019s breast\nAchilles laid his murder-dealing hands,\nAnd led with bitter groans the loud lament.\nAs when the hunters, in the forest\u2019s depth,\nHave robb\u2019d a bearded lion of his cubs;\nToo late arriving, he with anger chafes;\nThen follows, if perchance he may o\u2019ertake,\nThrough many a mountain glen, the hunters\u2019 steps,\nWith grief and fury fill\u2019d; so Peleus\u2019 son,\nWith bitter groans, the Myrmidons address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cVain was, alas! the promise which I gave,\nSeeking the brave Menoetius to console,\nTo bring to Opus back his gallant son,\nRich with his share of spoil from Troy o\u2019erthrown;\nBut Jove fulfils not all that man designs:\nFor us hath fate decreed, that here in Troy\nWe two one soil should redden with our blood;\nNor me, returning to my native land,\nShall aged Peleus in his halls receive,\nNor Thetis; here must earth retain my bones.\nBut since, Patroclus, I am doom\u2019d on earth\nBehind thee to remain, thy fun\u2019ral rites\nI will not celebrate, till Hector\u2019s arms,\nAnd head, thy haughty slayer\u2019s, here I bring;\nAnd on thy pyre twelve noble sons of Troy\nWill sacrifice, in vengeance of thy death.\nThou by our beaked ships till then must lie;\nAnd weeping o\u2019er thee shall deep-bosom\u2019d dames,\nTrojan and Dardan, mourn both night and day;\nThe prizes of our toil, when wealthy towns\nBefore our valour and our spears have fall\u2019n.\u201d\n\nHe said, and bade his comrades on the fire\nAn ample tripod place, without delay\nTo cleanse Patroclus from the bloody gore:\nThey on the burning fire the tripod plac\u2019d,\nWith water fill\u2019d, and kindled wood beneath.\nAround the bellying tripod rose the flames,\nHeating the bath; within the glitt\u2019ring brass\nSoon as the water boil\u2019d, they wash\u2019d the corpse,\nWith lissom oils anointing, and the wounds\nWith fragrant ointments fill\u2019d, of nine years old;\nThen in fine linen they the body wrapp\u2019d\nFrom head to feet, and laid it on a couch.\nAnd cover\u2019d over with a fair white sheet.\nAll night around Achilles swift of foot\nThe Myrmidons with tears Patroclus mourn\u2019d.\n\nTo Juno then, his sister and his wife,\nThus Saturn\u2019s son: \u201cAt length thou hast thy will,\nImperial Juno, who hast stirr\u2019d to war\nAchilles swift of foot; well might one deem\nThese long-hair\u2019d Greeks from thee deriv\u2019d their birth.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus the stag-ey\u2019d Queen:\n\u201cWhat words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?\nE\u2019en man, though mortal, and inferior far\nTo us in wisdom, might so much effect\nAgainst his fellow-man; then how should I,\nBy double title chief of Goddesses,\nFirst by my birth, and next because thy wife\nI boast me, thine, o\u2019er all the Gods supreme,\nNot work my vengeance on the Trojan race?\u201d\n\nSuch, converse while they held, to Vulcan\u2019s house,\nImmortal, starlike bright, among the Gods\nUnrivall\u2019d, all of brass, by Vulcan\u2019s self\nConstructed, sped the silver-footed Queen.\nHim swelt\u2019ring at his forge she found, intent\nOn forming twenty tripods, which should stand\nThe wall surrounding of his well-built house;\nWith golden wheels beneath he furnish\u2019d each,\nAnd to th\u2019 assembly of the Gods endued\nWith pow\u2019r to move spontaneous, and return,\nA marvel to behold! thus far his work\nHe had completed; but not yet had fix\u2019d\nThe rich-wrought handles; these his labour now\nEngag\u2019d, to fit them, and to rivet fast.\nWhile thus he exercis\u2019d his practis\u2019d skill,\nThe silver-footed Queen approach\u2019d the house.\nCharis, the skilful artist\u2019s wedded wife,\nBeheld her coming, and advanc\u2019d to meet;\nAnd, as her hand she clasp\u2019d, address\u2019d her thus:\n\n\u201cSay, Thetis of the flowing robe, belov\u2019d\nAnd honour\u2019d, whence this visit to our house,\nAn unaccustom\u2019d guest? but come thou in,\nThat I may welcome thee with honour due.\u201d\n\nThus, as she spoke, the Goddess led her in,\nAnd on a seat with silver studs adorn\u2019d,\nFair, richly wrought, a footstool at her feet,\nShe bade her sit; then thus to Vulcan call\u2019d:\n\u201cHaste hither, Vulcan; Thetis asks thine aid.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the skill\u2019d artificer:\n\u201cAn honour\u2019d and a venerated guest\nOur house contains; who sav\u2019d me once from woe,\nWhen by my mother\u2019s act from Heav\u2019n I fell,\nWho, for that I was crippled in my feet,\nDeem\u2019d it not shame to hide me: hard had then\nMy fortune been, had not Eurynome\nAnd Thetis in their bosoms shelter\u2019d me;\nEurynome, from old Oceanus\nWho drew her birth, the ever-circling flood.\nNine years with them I dwelt, and many a work\nI fashion\u2019d there of metal, clasps, and chains\nOf spiral coil, rich cups, and collars fair,\nHid in a cave profound; where th\u2019 ocean stream\nWith ceaseless murmur foam\u2019d and moan\u2019d around;\nUnknown to God or man, but to those two\nWho sav\u2019d me, Thetis and Eurynome.\nNow to my house hath fair-hair\u2019d Thetis come;\nTo her, my life preserv\u2019d its tribute owes:\nThen thou the hospitable rites perform.\nWhile I my bellows and my tools lay by.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from the anvil rear\u2019d upright\nHis massive strength; and as he limp\u2019d along,\nHis tottering knees were bow\u2019d beneath his weight.\nThe bellows from the fire he next withdrew,\nAnd in a silver casket plac\u2019d his tools;\nThen with a sponge his brows and lusty arms\nHe wip\u2019d, and sturdy neck and hairy chest.\nHe donn\u2019d his robe, and took his weighty staff;\nThen through the door with halting step he pass\u2019d;\nThere waited on their King the attendant maids;\nIn form as living maids, but wrought in gold;\nInstinct with consciousness, with voice endued,\nAnd strength, and skill from heav\u2019nly teachers drawn.\nThese waited, duteous, at the Monarch\u2019s side,\nHis steps supporting; he, with halting gait,\nPass\u2019d to a gorgeous chair by Thetis\u2019 side,\nAnd, as her hand he clasp\u2019d, address\u2019d her thus:\n\n\u201cSay, Thetis of the flowing robe, belov\u2019d\nAnd honour\u2019d, whence this visit to our house.\nAn unaccustom\u2019d guest? say what thy will,\nAnd, if within my pow\u2019r, esteem it done.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Thetis, weeping, thus:\n\u201cVulcan, of all the Goddesses who dwell\nOn high Olympus, lives there one whose soul\nHath borne such weight of woe, so many griefs,\nAs Saturn\u2019s son hath heap\u2019d on me alone?\nMe, whom he chose from all the sea-born nymphs,\nAnd gave to Peleus, son of \u00c6acus,\nHis subject; I endur\u2019d a mortal\u2019s bed,\nThough sore against my will; he now, bent down\nBy feeble age, lies helpless in his house.\nNow adds he farther grief; he granted me\nTo bear, and rear, a son, of heroes chief;\nLike a young tree he throve; I tended him,\nIn a rich vineyard as the choicest plant:\nTill in the beaked ships I sent him forth\nTo war with Troy; him ne\u2019er shall I receive,\nReturning home, in aged Peleus\u2019 house.\nE\u2019en while he lives, and sees the light of day,\nHe lives in sorrow; nor, to soothe his grief,\nMy presence can avail; a girl, his prize,\nSelected for him by the sons of Greece,\nGreat Agamemnon wrested from his arms:\nIn grief and rage he pin\u2019d his soul away;\nThen by the Trojans were the Greeks hemm\u2019d in\nBeside their ships, and from within their camp\nNo outlet found; the Grecian Elders then\nImplor\u2019d his aid, and promis\u2019d costly gifts.\nWith his own hand to save them he refus\u2019d;\nBut, in his armour clad, to battle sent\nHis friend Patroclus, with a num\u2019rous band.\nAll day they fought before the Scaean* gates;\nAnd in that day had Ilium been destroy\u2019d,\nBut in the van, Menoetius\u2019 noble son.\nAfter great deeds achiev\u2019d, Apollo slew,\nAnd crown\u2019d with glory Hector, Priam\u2019s son.\nTherefore a suppliant to thy knees I come,\nIf to my son, to early death condemn\u2019d,\nThou wilt accord the boon of shield and helm,\nAnd well-wrought greaves with silver clasps secur\u2019d,\nAnd breastplate; for his own, his faithful friend,\nBy Trojan hands subdued, hath lost; and he,\nO\u2019erwhelm\u2019d with grief, lies prostrate on the earth.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the skill\u2019d artificer:\n\u201cTake comfort, nor let this disturb thy mind;\nWould that as surely, when his hour shall come,\nI could defend him from the stroke of death,\nAs I can undertake that his shall be\nSuch arms as they shall marvel who behold.\u201d\n\nHe left her thus, and to his forge return\u2019d;\nThe bellows then directing to the fire,\nHe bade them work; through twenty pipes at once\nForthwith they pour\u2019d their diverse-temper\u2019d blasts;\nNow briskly seconding his eager haste,\nNow at his will, and as the work requir\u2019d.\nThe stubborn brass, and tin, and precious gold,\nAnd silver, first he melted in the fire,\nThen on its stand his weighty anvil plac\u2019d;\nAnd with one hand the hammer\u2019s pond\u2019rous weight\nHe wielded, while the other grasp\u2019d the tongs.\n\nAnd first a shield he fashion\u2019d, vast and strong,\nWith rich adornment; circled with a rim,\nThreefold, bright-gleaming, whence a silver belt\nDepended; of five folds the shield was form\u2019d;\nAnd on its surface many a rare design\nOf curious art his practis\u2019d skill had wrought.\n\nThereon were figur\u2019d earth, and sky, and sea,\nThe ever-circling sun, and full-orb\u2019d moon,\nAnd all the signs that crown the vault of Heav\u2019n;\nPleiads and Hyads, and Orion\u2019s might,\nAnd Arctos, call\u2019d the Wain, who wheels on high\nHis circling course, and on Orion waits;\nSole star that never bathes in th\u2019 ocean wave.\n\nAnd two fair populous towns were sculptur\u2019d there;\nIn one were marriage pomp and revelry.\nAnd brides, in gay procession, through the streets\nWith blazing torches from their chambers borne,\nWhile frequent rose the hymeneal song.\nYouths whirl\u2019d around in joyous dance, with sound\nOf flute and harp; and, standing at their doors,\nAdmiring women on the pageant gaz\u2019d.\n\nMeanwhile a busy throng the forum fill\u2019d:\nThere between two a fierce contention rose,\nAbout a death-fine; to the public one\nAppeal\u2019d, asserting to have paid the whole;\nWhile one denied that he had aught receiv\u2019d.\nBoth were desirous that before the Judge\nThe issue should be tried; with noisy shouts\nTheir several partisans encourag\u2019d each.\nThe heralds still\u2019d the tumult of the crowd:\nOn polish\u2019d chairs, in solemn circle, sat\nThe rev\u2019rend Elders; in their hands they held\nThe loud-voic\u2019d heralds\u2019 sceptres; waving these,\nThey heard th\u2019 alternate pleadings; in the midst\nTwo talents lay of gold, which he should take\nWho should before them prove his righteous cause.\n\nBefore the second town two armies lay,\nIn arms refulgent; to destroy the town\nTh\u2019 assailants threaten\u2019d, or among themselves\nOf all the wealth within the city stor\u2019d\nAn equal half, as ransom, to divide.\nThe terms rejecting, the defenders mann\u2019d\nA secret ambush; on the walls they plac\u2019d\nWomen and children muster\u2019d for defence,\nAnd men by age enfeebled; forth they went,\nBy Mars and Pallas led; these, wrought in gold,\nIn golden arms array\u2019d, above the crowd\nFor beauty and stature, as befitting Gods,\nConspicuous shone; of lesser height the rest.\nBut when the destin\u2019d ambuscade was reach\u2019d,\nBeside the river, where the shepherds drove\nTheir flocks and herds to water, down they lay,\nIn glitt\u2019ring arms accoutred; and apart\nThey plac\u2019d two spies, to notify betimes\nTh\u2019 approach of flocks of sheep and lowing herds.\nThese, in two shepherds\u2019 charge, ere long appear\u2019d,\nWho, unsuspecting as they mov\u2019d along,\nEnjoy\u2019d the music of their past\u2019ral pipes.\nThey on the booty, from afar discern\u2019d,\nSprang from their ambuscade; and cutting off\nThe herds, and fleecy flocks, their guardians slew.\nTheir comrades heard the tumult, where they sat\nBefore their sacred altars, and forthwith\nSprang on their cars, and with fast-stepping steeds\nPursued the plund\u2019rers, and o\u2019ertook them soon.\nThere on the river\u2019s bank they met in arms,\nAnd each at other hurl\u2019d their brazen spears.\nAnd there were figur\u2019d Strife, and Tumult wild,\nAnd deadly Fate, who in her iron grasp\nOne newly-wounded, one unwounded bore,\nWhile by the feet from out the press she dragg\u2019d\nAnother slain: about her shoulders hung\nA garment crimson\u2019d with the blood of men.\nLike living men they seem\u2019d to move, to fight,\nTo drag away the bodies of the slain.\n\nAnd there was grav\u2019n a wide-extended plain\nOf fallow land, rich, fertile, mellow soil,\nThrice plough\u2019d; where many ploughmen up and down\nTheir teams were driving; and as each attain\u2019d\nThe limit of the field, would one advance,\nAnd tender him a cup of gen\u2019rous wine:\nThen would he turn, and to the end again\nAlong the furrow cheerly drive his plough.\nAnd still behind them darker show\u2019d the soil,\nThe true presentment of a new-plough\u2019d field,\nThough wrought in gold; a miracle of art.\n\nThere too was grav\u2019n a corn-field, rich in grain,\nWhere with sharp sickles reapers plied their task,\nAnd thick, in even swathe, the trusses fell;\nThe binders, following close, the bundles tied:\nThree were the binders; and behind them boys\nIn close attendance waiting, in their arms\nGather\u2019d the bundles, and in order pil\u2019d.\nAmid them, staff in hand, in silence stood\nThe King, rejoicing in the plenteous swathe.\nA little way remov\u2019d, the heralds slew\nA sturdy ox, and now beneath an oak\nPrepar\u2019d the feast; while women mix\u2019d, hard by,\nWhite barley porridge for the lab\u2019rers\u2019 meal.\n\nAnd, with rich clusters laden, there was grav\u2019n\nA vineyard fair, all gold; of glossy black\nThe bunches were, on silver poles sustain\u2019d;\nAround, a darksome trench; beyond, a fence\nWas wrought, of shining tin; and through it led\nOne only path, by which the bearers pass\u2019d,\nWho gather\u2019d in the vineyard\u2019s bounteous store.\nThere maids and youths, in joyous spirits bright,\nIn woven baskets bore the luscious fruit.\nA boy, amid them, from a clear-ton\u2019d harp\nDrew lovely music; well his liquid voice\nThe strings accompanied; they all with dance\nAnd song harmonious join\u2019d, and joyous shouts,\nAs the gay bevy lightly tripp\u2019d along.\n\nOf straight-horn\u2019d cattle too a herd was grav\u2019n;\nOf gold and tin the heifers all were wrought:\nThey to the pasture, from the cattle-yard,\nWith gentle lowings, by a babbling stream,\nWhere quiv\u2019ring reed-beds rustled, slowly mov\u2019d.\nFour golden shepherds walk\u2019d beside the herd,\nBy nine swift dogs attended; then amid\nThe foremost heifers sprang two lions fierce\nUpon the lordly bull: he, bellowing loud,\nWas dragg\u2019d along, by dogs and youths pursued.\nThe tough bull\u2019s-hide they tore, and gorging lapp\u2019d\nTh\u2019 intestines and dark blood; with vain attempt\nThe herdsmen following closely, to the attack\nCheer\u2019d their swift dogs; these shunn\u2019d the lions\u2019 jaws,\nAnd close around them baying, held aloof.\n\nAnd there the skilful artist\u2019s hand had trac\u2019d\nA pastaro broad, with fleecy flocks o\u2019erspread,\nIn a fair glade, with fold, and tents, and pens.\n\nThere, too, the skilful artist\u2019s hand had wrought\nWith curious workmanship, a mazy dance,\nLike that which Daedalus in Cnossus erst\nAt fair-hair\u2019d Ariadne\u2019s bidding fram\u2019d.\nThere, laying each on other\u2019s wrists their hand,\nBright youths and many-suitor\u2019d maidens danc\u2019d:\nIn fair white linen these; in tunics those,\nWell woven, shining soft with fragrant oils;\nThese with fair coronets were crown\u2019d, while those\nWith golden swords from silver belts were girt.\nNow whirl\u2019d they round with nimble practis\u2019d feet,\nEasy, as when a potter, seated, turns\nA wheel, new fashion\u2019d by his skilful hand,\nAnd spins it round, to prove if true it run;\nNow featly mov\u2019d in well-beseeming ranks.\nA num\u2019rous crowd, around, the lovely dance\nSurvey\u2019d, delighted; while an honour\u2019d Bard\nSang, as he struck the lyre, and to the strain\nTwo tumblers, in the midst, were whirling round.\n\nAbout the margin of the massive shield\nWas wrought the mighty strength of th\u2019 ocean stream.\n\nThe shield completed, vast and strong, he forg\u2019d\nA breastplate, dazzling bright as flame of fire;\nAnd next, a weighty helmet for his head,\nFair, richly wrought, with crest of gold above;\nThen last, well-fitting greaves of pliant tin.\n\nThe skill\u2019d artificer his works complete\nBefore Achilles\u2019 Goddess-mother laid:\nShe, like a falcon, from the snow-clad heights\nOf huge Olympus, darted swiftly down,\nCharg\u2019d with the glitt\u2019ring arms by Vulcan wrought.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE RECONCILIATION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.\n\n\nThetis brings to her son the armour made by Vulcan. She preserves the\nbody of his friend from corruption, and commands him to assemble the\narmy, to declare his resentment at an end. Agamemnon and Achilles are\nsolemnly reconciled: the speeches, presents, and ceremonies on that\noccasion. Achilles is with great difficulty persuaded to refrain from\nthe battle till the troops have refreshed themselves, by the advice of\nUlysses. The presents are conveyed to the tent of Achilles: where\nBriseis laments over the body of Patroclus. The hero obstinately\nrefuses all repast, and gives himself up to lamentations for his\nfriend. Minerva descends to strengthen him, by the order of Jupiter. He\narms for the fight; his appearance described. He addresses himself to\nhis horses, and reproaches them with the death of Patroclus. One of\nthem is miraculously endued with voice, and inspired to prophesy his\nfate; but the hero, not astonished by that prodigy, rushes with fury to\nthe combat.\n\nThe thirtieth day. The scene is on the sea-shore.\n\nBOOK XIX.\n\nNow morn in saffron robe, from th\u2019 ocean stream\nAscending, light diffus\u2019d o\u2019er Gods and men;\nAs Thetis, to the ships returning, bore\nThe gift of Vulcan; there her son she found,\nWho o\u2019er Patroclus hung in bitter grief;\nAround him mourn\u2019d his comrades; in the midst\nShe stood, and clasp\u2019d his hand, as thus she spoke:\n\n\u201cLeave we, my son, though deep our grief, the dead;\nHere let him lie, since Heav\u2019n hath doom\u2019d his fall;\nBut thou these arms receive, by Vulcan sent,\nFairer than e\u2019er on mortal breast were borne.\u201d\nThe arms before Achilles, as she spoke,\nThe Goddess laid; loud rang the wondrous work.\nWith awe the Myrmidons beheld; nor dar\u2019d\nAffront the sight: but as Achilles gaz\u2019d,\nMore fiery burn\u2019d his wrath; beneath his brows\nHis eyes like lightning flash\u2019d; with fierce delight\nHe seiz\u2019d the glorious gift: and when his soul\nHad feasted on the miracle of art,\nTo Thetis thus his winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cMother, the God hath giv\u2019n me arms indeed,\nWorthy a God, and such as mortal man\nCould never forge; I go to arm me straight;\nYet fear I for Menoetius\u2019 noble son,\nLest in his spear-inflicted wounds the flies\nMay gender worms, and desecrate the dead,\nAnd, life extinct, corruption reach his flesh.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the silver-footed Queen:\n\u201cLet not such fears, my son, disturb thy mind:\nI will myself the swarms of flies disperse,\nThat on the flesh of slaughter\u2019d warriors prey:\nAnd should he here remain a year complete,\nStill should his flesh be firm and fresh as now:\nBut thou to council call the chiefs of Greece;\nAgainst the monarch Agamemnon there,\nThe leader of the host, abjure thy wrath;\nThen arm thee quickly, and put on thy might.\u201d\n\nHer words with dauntless courage fill\u2019d his breast.\nShe in Patroclus\u2019 nostrils, to preserve\nHis flesh, red nectar and ambrosia pour\u2019d.\n\nAlong the ocean beach Achilles pass\u2019d,\nAnd loudly shouting, call\u2019d on all the chiefs;\nThen all who heretofore remain\u2019d on board,\nThe steersmen, who the vessels\u2019 rudders hold,\nThe very stewards that serv\u2019d the daily bread,\nAll to th\u2019 assembly throng\u2019d, when reappear\u2019d\nAchilles, from the fight so long withdrawn.\nTwo noble chiefs, two ministers of Mars,\nUlysses sage, and valiant Diomed,\nAppear\u2019d, yet crippled by their grievous wounds,\nTheir halting steps supporting with their spears,\nAnd on the foremost seats their places took.\nNext follow\u2019d Agamemnon, King of men,\nHe also wounded; for Antenor\u2019s son,\nCoon, had stabb\u2019d him in the stubborn fight.\nWhen all the Greeks were closely throng\u2019d around,\nUp rose Achilles swift of foot, and said:\n\n\u201cGreat son of Atreus, what hath been the gain\nTo thee or me, since heart-consuming strife\nHath fiercely rag\u2019d between us, for a girl,\nWho would to Heav\u2019n had died by Dian\u2019s shafts\nThat day when from Lyrnessus\u2019 captur\u2019d town\nI bore her off? so had not many a Greek\nBitten the bloody dust, by hostile hands\nSubdued, while I in anger stood aloof.\nGreat was the gain to Troy; but Greeks, methinks,\nWill long retain the mem\u2019ry of our feud.\nYet pass we that; and though our hearts be sore,\nStill let us school our angry spirits down.\nMy wrath I here abjure; it is not meet\nIt burn for ever unappeas\u2019d; do thou\nMuster to battle straight the long-hair\u2019d Greeks;\nThat, to the Trojans once again oppos\u2019d,\nI may make trial if beside the ships\nThey dare this night remain; but he, I ween,\nWill gladly rest his limbs, who safe shall fly,\nMy spear escaping, from the battle-field.\u201d\n\nHe said: the well-greav\u2019d Greeks rejoic\u2019d to hear\nHis wrath abjur\u2019d by Peleus\u2019 godlike son;\nAnd from his seat, not standing in the midst,\nThus to th\u2019 assembly Agamemnon spoke:\n\u201cFriends, Grecian Heroes, Ministers of Mars,\nWhen one stands up to speak, \u2019tis meet for all\nTo lend a patient ear, nor interrupt;\nFor e\u2019en to practis\u2019d speakers hard the task:\nBut, in this vast assembly, who can speak\nThat all may hear? the clearest voice must fail.\nTo Peleus\u2019 son, Achilles, I my mind\nWill frankly open; ye among yourselves\nImpart the words I speak, that all may know.\nOft hath this matter been by Greeks discuss\u2019d,\nAnd I their frequent censure have incurr\u2019d:\nYet was not I the cause; but Jove, and Fate,\nAnd gloomy Erinnys, who combin\u2019d to throw\nA strong delusion o\u2019er my mind, that day\nI robb\u2019d Achilles of his lawful prize.\nWhat could I do? a Goddess all o\u2019er-rul\u2019d,\nDaughter of Jove, dread Ate, baleful pow\u2019r,\nMisleading all; with lightest step she moves,\nNot on the earth, but o\u2019er the heads of men,\nWith blighting touch; and many hath caus\u2019d to err.\nE\u2019en Jove, the wisest deem\u2019d of Gods and men,\nIn error she involv\u2019d, when Juno\u2019s art\nBy female stratagem the God deceiv\u2019d,\nWhen in well-girdled Thebes Alcmena lay\nIn travail of the might of Hercules.\nIn boastful tone amid the Gods he spoke:\n\u2018Hear all ye Gods, and all ye Goddesses,\nThe words I speak, the promptings of my soul.\nThis day Lucina shall to light bring forth\nA child, the future Lord of all around,\nOf mortal men, who trace to me their blood.\u2019\nWhom answer\u2019d Juno thus, with deep deceit:\n\u2018Thou dost but feign, nor wilt fulfil thy word:\nCome now, Olympian, swear a solemn oath\nThat he shall be the Lord of all around,\nWho on this day shall be of woman born,\nOf mortal men, who trace to thee their blood.\u2019\nShe said, and Jove, the snare unseeing, swore\nA solemn oath; but found his error soon.\nDown from Olympus\u2019 height she sped in haste\nTo Argos of Achaia; for the wife\nOf Sthenelus, the son of Perseus, there,\nShe knew, was sev\u2019n months pregnant of a son;\nWhom, though untimely born, she brought to light,\nStaying meanwhile Alcmena\u2019s labour-pangs,\nTo Saturn\u2019s son herself the tidings brought,\nAnd thus address\u2019d him: \u2018Jove, the lightning\u2019s Lord,\nI bring thee news; this day a mighty man,\nBy thee ordain\u2019d to be the Argives\u2019 King,\nIs born, Eurystheus, son of Sthenelus,\nThe son of Perseus, issue of thy blood;\nWell worthy he to be the Argives\u2019 King.\u2019\nShe said: keen sorrow deeply pierc\u2019d his soul;\nThen Ate by the glossy locks he seiz\u2019d\nIn mighty wrath; and swore a solemn oath,\nThat to Olympus and the starry Heav\u2019n\nShe never should return, who all misleads.\nHis arm then whirling, from the starry Heav\u2019n\nHe flung her down, to vex th\u2019 affairs of men.\nYet oft her fraud remember\u2019d he with groans,\nWhen by Eurystheus\u2019 hard commands he saw\nCondemn\u2019d to servile tasks his noble son.\nSo, oft as Hector of the glancing helm\nBeside the ships the Greeks to slaughter gave,\nBack to my mind my former error came.\nI err\u2019d, for Jove my judgment took away;\nBut friendly reconcilement now I seek,\nAnd tender costly presents; then thyself\nUprouse thee, and excite the rest to arms.\nWhile I prepare the gifts, whate\u2019er of late[6]\nThe sage Ulysses promis\u2019d in thy tent:\nOr, if thou wilt, though eager for the fray,\nRemain thou here awhile, till from my ship\nMy followers bring the gifts; that thou mayst see\nI make my offerings with no niggard hand.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles swift of foot:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nThe gifts thou deem\u2019st befitting, \u2019tis for thee\nTo give, or to withhold; but now at once\nPrepare we for the battle; \u2019tis not meet\nOn trivial pretexts here to waste our time,\nOr idly loiter; much remains to do:\nAgain be seen Achilles in the van,\nScatt\u2019ring with brazen spear the Trojan ranks;\nAnd ye, forget not man with man to fight.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer sage Ulysses thus:\n\u201cBrave as thou art, Achilles, godlike chief,\nYet fasting lead not forth the sons of Greece\nTo fight the Trojans; for no little time\nWill last the struggle, when the serried ranks\nAre once engag\u2019d in conflict, and the Gods\nWith equal courage either side inspire:\nBut bid them, by the ships, of food and wine\n(Wherein are strength and courage) first partake;\nFor none throughout the day till set of sun,\nFasting from food, may bear the toils of war;\nHis spirit may still be eager for the fray;\nYet are his limbs by slow degrees weigh\u2019d down,\nHimself by thirst and hunger worn, his knees\nUnable, as he moves, to bear his weight.\nBut he who, first with food and wine refresh\u2019d,\nAll day maintains the combat with the foe,\nHis spirit retains unbroken, and his limbs\nUnwearied, till both armies quit the field.\nDisperse then now the crowd, and bid prepare\nThe morning meal; meantime to public view\nLet Agamemnon, King of men, display\nHis costly gifts; that all the Greeks may see,\nAnd that thy heart within thee melt with joy:\nAnd there in full assembly let him swear\nA solemn oath, that he hath ne\u2019er approach\u2019d\nThe fair Briseis\u2019 bed, nor held with her\nSuch intercourse as man with woman holds.\nBe thou propitious, and accept his oath.\nThen at a sumptuous banquet in his tent\nLet him receive thee; that thine honour due\nMay nothing lack; and so, Atrides, thou\nShalt stand in sight of all men clear of blame;\nFor none can wonder that insulting speech\nShould rouse the anger of a sceptred King.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Agamemnon, King of men:\n\u201cSon of Laertes, I accept thy speech\nWith cordial welcome: all that thou hast said\nIs well and wisely spoken; for the oath,\nI am prepar\u2019d, with willing mind, to swear;\nNor in the sight of Heav\u2019n will be forsworn.\nLet then Achilles here awhile remain,\nThough eager for the fray; ye too remain,\nUntil the presents from my tent be brought,\nAnd we our solemn compact ratify.\nThen this command upon thyself I lay:\nThat thou the noblest youths of all the Greeks\nSelect, and bid them from my vessel bear\nThe gifts, which, to Achilles yesternight\nWe promis\u2019d, and withal the women bring;\nAnd let Talthybius through the host seek out\nA boar, for sacrifice to Jove and Sol.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles swift of foot:\n\u201cMost mighty Agamemnon, King of men,\nThese matters to some future time were best\nDeferr\u2019d, some hour of respite from the fight,\nOf rage less fiercely burning in my breast;\nBut slaughter\u2019d now they lie, whom Priam\u2019s son,\nHector, hath slain, by Jove to vict\u2019ry led.\nYe bid us take our food; if I might rule,\nI would to battle lead the sons of Greece,\nUnfed, and fasting; and at set of sun,\nOur shame aveng\u2019d, an ample feast prepare;\nTill then, nor food nor drink shall pass my lips,\nMy comrade slain; who pierc\u2019d with mortal wounds,\nTurn\u2019d tow\u2019rd the doorway, lies within my tent,\nHis mourning friends around; while there he lies,\nNo thought have I for these or aught beside,\nSave carnage, blood, and groans of dying men.\u201d\n\nTo whom Ulysses, sage in council, thus:\n\u201cO son of Peleus, noblest of the Greeks,\nHow far, Achilles, thou surpassest me\nIn deeds of arms, I know: but thou must yield\nTo me in counsel, for my years are more,\nAnd my experience greater far than thine:\nThen to my words incline a patient ear.\nMen soonest weary of battle, where the sword\nThe bloodiest harvest reaps; the lightest crop\nOf slaughter is where Jove inclines the scale,\nDispenser, at his will, of human wars.\nThe Greeks by fasting cannot mourn their dead;\nFor day by day successive numbers fall;\nWhere were the respite then from ceaseless fast?\nBehoves us bury out of sight our dead,\nSteeling our hearts, and weeping but a day;\nAnd we, the rest, whom cruel war has spar\u2019d,\nShould first with food and wine recruit our strength;\nThen, girding on our arms, the livelong day\nMaintain the war, unwearied; then let none\nRequire a farther summons to the field;\n(And woe to him who loit\u2019ring by the ships\nThat summons hears;) but with united force\nAgainst the Trojans wake the furious war.\u201d\n\nHe said, and call\u2019d on noble Nestor\u2019s sons,\nOn Meges, Phyleus\u2019 son, Meriones,\nThoas, and Lycomedes, Creon\u2019s son,\nAnd Melanippus; they together sought\nThe mighty monarch Agamemnon\u2019s tent.\nSoon as the word was giv\u2019n, the work was done;\nSev\u2019n tripods brought they out, the promis\u2019d gifts;\nTwelve horses, twenty caldrons glitt\u2019ring bright;\nSev\u2019n women too, well skill\u2019d in household cares,\nWith whom, the eighth, the fair Briseis came.\nUlysses led the way, and with him brought\nTen talents full of gold; th\u2019 attendant youths\nThe other presents bore, and in the midst\nDisplay\u2019d before th\u2019 assembly: then uprose\nThe monarch Agamemnon; by his side,\nWith voice of godlike pow\u2019r, Talthybius stood,\nHolding the victim: then Atrides drew\nThe dagger, ever hanging at his side,\nClose by the scabbard of his mighty sword,\nAnd from the victim\u2019s head the bristles shore.\nWith hands uplifted then to Jove he pray\u2019d;\nWhile all around the Greeks in silence stood,\nList\u2019ning, decorous, to the monarch\u2019s words,\nAs looking up to Heav\u2019n he made his pray\u2019r:\n\n\u201cBe witness, Jove, thou highest, first of Gods,\nAnd Sun, and Earth, and ye who vengeance wreak\nBeneath the earth on souls of men forsworn,\nFuries! that never, or to love unchaste\nSoliciting, or otherwise, my hand\nHath fair Briseis touch\u2019d; but in my tent\nStill pure and undefil\u2019d hath she remain\u2019d:\nAnd if in this I be forsworn, may Heav\u2019n\nWith all the plagues afflict me, due to those\nWho sin by perjur\u2019d oaths against the Gods.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, across the victim\u2019s throat\nHe drew the pitiless blade; Talthybius then\nTo hoary Ocean\u2019s depths the carcase threw,\nFood for the fishes; then Achilles rose,\nAnd thus before th\u2019 assembled Greeks he spoke:\n\n\u201cO Father Jove, how dost thou lead astray\nOur human judgments! ne\u2019er had Atreus\u2019 son\nMy bosom fill\u2019d with wrath, nor from my arms,\nTo his own loss, against my will had torn\nThe girl I lov\u2019d, but that the will of Jove\nTo death predestin\u2019d many a valiant Greek.\nNow to the meal; anon renew the war.\u201d\n\nThis said, th\u2019 assembly he dismiss\u2019d in haste,\nThe crowd dispersing to their sev\u2019ral ships;\nUpon the gifts the warlike Myrmidons\nBestow\u2019d their care, and bore them to the ships;\nOf Peleus\u2019 godlike son; within the tent\nThey laid them down, and there the women plac\u2019d,\nWhile to the drove the followers led the steeds.\nBriseis, fair as golden Venus, saw\nPatroclus lying, pierc\u2019d with mortal wounds,\nWithin the tent; and with a bitter cry,\nShe flung her down upon the corpse, and tore\nHer breast, her delicate neck, and beauteous cheeks;\nAnd, weeping, thus the lovely woman wail\u2019d:\n\n\u201cPatroclus, dearly lov\u2019d of this sad heart!\nWhen last I left this tent, I left thee full\nOf healthy life; returning now, I find\nOnly thy lifeless corpse, thou Prince of men!\nSo sorrow still, on sorrow heap\u2019d, I bear.\nThe husband of my youth, to whom my sire\nAnd honour\u2019d mother gave me, I beheld\nSlain with the sword before the city walls:\nThree brothers, whom with me one mother bore,\nMy dearly lov\u2019d ones, all were doom\u2019d to death:\nNor wouldst thou, when Achilles swift of foot\nMy husband slew, and royal Mynes\u2019 town\nIn ruin laid, allow my tears to flow;\nBut thou wouldst make me (such was still thy speech)\nThe wedded wife of Peleus\u2019 godlike son:\nThou wouldst to Phthia bear me in thy ship,\nAnd there, thyself, amid the Myrmidons,\nWouldst give my marriage feast; then, unconsol\u2019d,\nI weep thy death, my ever-gentle friend!\u201d\n\nWeeping, she spoke; the women join\u2019d her wail:\nPatroclus\u2019 death the pretext for their tears,\nBut each in secret wept her private griefs.\n\nAround Achilles throng\u2019d the elder men,\nUrging to eat; but he, with groans, refus\u2019d:\n\u201cI pray you, would you show your love, dear friends,\nAsk me not now with food or drink to appease\nHunger or thirst; a load of bitter grief\nWeighs heavy on my soul; till set of sun\nFasting will I remain, and still endure.\u201d\n\nThe other monarchs at his word withdrew:\nThe two Atridae, and Ulysses sage,\nAnd Nestor and Idomeneus remain\u2019d,\nAnd aged Phoenix, to divert his grief;\nBut comfort none, save in the bloody jaws\nOf battle would he take; by mem\u2019ry stirr\u2019d,\nHe heav\u2019d a deep-drawn sigh, as thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cHow oft hast thou, ill-fated, dearest friend,\nHere in this tent with eager zeal prepar\u2019d\nThe tempting meal, whene\u2019er the sons of Greece\nIn haste would arm them for the bloody fray!\nNow liest thou there, while I, for love of thee,\nFrom food and drink, before me plac\u2019d, refrain:\nFor ne\u2019er shall I again such sorrow know,\nNot though I heard of aged Peleus\u2019 death,\nWho now in Phthia mourns, with tender tears,\nHis absent son; he on a foreign shore\nIs warring in that hateful Helen\u2019s cause:\nNo, nor of his, who now in Scyros\u2019 isle\nIs growing up, if yet indeed he live,\nYoung Neoptolemus, my godlike son.\nMy hope had been indeed, that here in Troy,\nFar from the plains of Argos, I alone\nWas doom\u2019d to die; and that to Phthia thou,\nReturn\u2019d in safety, mightst my son convey\nFrom Scyros home, and show him all my wealth,\nMy spoils, my slaves, my lofty, spacious house.\nFor Peleus or to death, methinks, e\u2019en now\nHath yielded, or not far from death remov\u2019d,\nLives on in sorrow, bow\u2019d by gloomy age,\nExpecting day by day the messenger\nWho bears the mournful tidings of my death.\u201d\n\nWeeping, Achilles spoke; and with him wept\nThe Elders; each to fond remembrance mov\u2019d\nOf all that in his home himself had left.\nThe son of Saturn, pitying, saw their grief,\nAnd Pallas thus with winged words address\u2019d:\n\u201cMy child, dost thou a hero\u2019s cause forsake,\nOr does Achilles claim no more thy care,\nWho sits in sorrow by the high-prow\u2019d ships,\nMourning his comrade slain? the others all\nPartake the meal, while he from food abstains:\nThen haste thee, and, with hunger lest he faint,\nDrop nectar and ambrosia on his breast.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh impulse gave to Pallas\u2019 zeal:\nDown, like the long-wing\u2019d falcon, shrill of voice,\nThro\u2019 the clear sky she swoop\u2019d: and while the Greeks\nArm\u2019d for the fight, Achilles she approach\u2019d,\nAnd nectar and ambrosia on his breast\nDistill\u2019d, lest hunger should his strength subdue;\nBack to her mighty Father\u2019s ample house\nReturning, as from out the ships they pour\u2019d.\nThick as the snow-flakes that from Heav\u2019n descend,\nBefore the sky-born Boreas\u2019 chilling blast;\nSo thick, outpouring from the ships, the stream\nOf helmets polish\u2019d bright, and bossy shields,\nAnd breastplates firmly brac\u2019d, and ashen spears:\nTheir brightness flash\u2019d to Heav\u2019n; and laugh\u2019d the Earth\nBeneath the brazen glare; loud rang the tramp\nOf armed men: Achilles in the midst,\nThe godlike chief, in dazzling arms array\u2019d.\nHis teeth were gnashing audibly; his eye\nBlaz\u2019d with, the light of fire; but in his heart\nWas grief unbearable; with furious wrath\nHe burn\u2019d against the Trojans, as he donn\u2019d\nThe heav\u2019nly gifts, the work of Vulcan\u2019s hand.\nFirst on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix\u2019d,\nFasten\u2019d with silver clasps; his breastplate next\nAround his chest; and o\u2019er his shoulders flung\nHis silver-studded sword, with blade of brass;\nThen took his vast and weighty shield, whence gleam\u2019d\nA light refulgent as the full-orb\u2019d moon;\nOr as to seamen o\u2019er the wave is borne\nThe watchfire\u2019s light, which, high among the hills,\nSome shepherd kindles in his lonely fold:\nAs they, reluctant, by the stormy winds,\nFar from their friends are o\u2019er the waters driv\u2019n;\nSo from Achilles\u2019 shield, bright, richly wrought,\nThe light was thrown. The weighty helm he rais\u2019d,\nAnd plac\u2019d it on his head; the plumed helm\nShone like a star; and wav\u2019d the hairs of gold.\nThick-set by Vulcan in the gleaming crest.\nThen all the arms Achilles prov\u2019d, to know\nIf well they fitted to his graceful limbs:\nLike wings, they seem\u2019d to lift him from the ground.\nLast, from its case he drew his father\u2019s spear,\nLong, pond\u2019rous, tough; not one of all the Greeks,\nNone, save Achilles\u2019 self, could poise that spear;\nThe far-fam\u2019d Pelian ash, which to his sire,\nOn Pelion\u2019s summit fell\u2019d, to be the bane\nOf mighty chiefs, the Centaur Chiron gave.\nWith care Automedon and Alcimus\nThe horses yok\u2019d, with collars fair attach\u2019d:\nPlac\u2019d in their mouths the bits, and pass\u2019d the reins\nBack to the well-built car: Automedon\nSprang on the car, with shining lash in hand:\nBehind, Achilles came, array\u2019d for war,\nIn arms all glitt\u2019ring as the gorgeous sun,\nAnd loudly to his father\u2019s steeds he call\u2019d:\n\u201cXanthus and Balius, noble progeny\nOf swift Podarge, now in other sort\nBack to the Grecian ranks in safety bear,\nWhen he shall quit the field, your charioteer;\nNor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, slain.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer from beneath the yoke\nXanthus, the noble horse, with glancing feet:\nBowing his head the while, till all his mane\nDown from th\u2019 yokeband streaming, reach\u2019d the ground;\nBy Juno, white-arm\u2019d Queen, with speech endued:\n\n\u201cYes, great Achilles, we this day again\nWill bear thee safely; but thy day of doom\nIs nigh at hand; nor we shall cause thy death,\nBut Heav\u2019n\u2019s high will, and Fate\u2019s imperious pow\u2019r.\nBy no default of ours, nor lack of speed,\nThe Trojans stripp\u2019d Patroclus of his arms:\nThe mighty God, fair-hair\u2019d Latona\u2019s son,\nAchiev\u2019d his death, and Hector\u2019s vict\u2019ry gain\u2019d.\nOur speed of foot may vie with Zephyr\u2019s breeze,\nDeem\u2019d swiftest of the winds; but thou art doom\u2019d\nTo die, by force combin\u2019d of God and man.\u201d\n\nHe said; his farther speech the Furies stay\u2019d.\nTo whom in wrath Achilles swift of foot;\n\u201cXanthus, why thus predict my coming fate?\nIt ill beseems thee! well I know myself\nThat I am fated here in Troy to die,\nFar from my home and parents; yet withal\nI cease not, till these Trojans from the field\nBefore me fly.\u201d He said, and to the front,\nHis war-cry shouting, urg\u2019d his fiery steeds.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE BATTLE OF THE GODS, AND THE ACTS OF ACHILLES.\n\n\nJupiter, upon Achilles\u2019 return to the battle, calls a council of the\ngods and permits them to assist either party. The terrors of the combat\ndescribed when the deities are engaged. Apollo encourages \u00c6neas to\nmeet Achilles. After a long conversation, these two heroes encounter;\nbut \u00c6neas is preserved by the assistance of Neptune. Achilles falls\nupon the rest of the Trojans, and is upon the point of killing Hector,\nbut Apollo conveys him away in a cloud. Achilles pursues the Trojans\nwith a great slaughter.\n\nThe same day continues. The scene is in the field before Troy.\n\nBOOK XX.\n\nRound thee, Achilles, eager for the fray,\nStood thus accoutred, by their beaked ships,\nThe sons of Greece; the Trojan host, oppos\u2019d,\nStood on the sloping margin of the plain.\nThen Jove to Themis gave command to call\nThe Gods to council from the lofty height\nOf many-ridg\u2019d Olympus; to the house\nOf Jove she summon\u2019d them from ev\u2019ry side.\nThence of the Rivers, save Oceanus,\nNot one was absent; nor of Nymphs, who haunt\nClear fount, or shady grove, or grassy mead.\nThey, at the Cloud-compeller\u2019s house arriv\u2019d,\nWithin the polish\u2019d corridor reclin\u2019d,\nWhich Vulcan\u2019s cunning hand for Jove had built.\nThere were they gather\u2019d in th\u2019 abode of Jove:\nNor did th\u2019 Earth-shaking Neptune slight the call,\nBut came from ocean\u2019s depths, and in the midst\nHe sat, and thus the will of Jove enquir\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhy, Lord of lightning, hast thou summon\u2019d here\nThe Gods to council? dost thou aught devise\nTouching the Greeks and Trojans? who e\u2019en now\nKindle anew, it seems, the blaze of war.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller, answ\u2019ring, thus:\n\u201cThe purpose, Neptune, well thou know\u2019st thyself\nFor which I call\u2019d ye; true, they needs must die,\nBut still they claim my care; yet here will I\nUpon Olympus\u2019 lofty ridge remain,\nAnd view, serene, the combat; you, the rest,\nGo, as you list, to Trojans or to Greeks,\nAnd at your pleasure either party aid.\nFor if we leave Achilles thus alone\nTo fight against the Trojans, not an hour\nWill they before the son of Peleus stand.\nThey dreaded him before; but now, I fear,\nSince rous\u2019d to fury by his comrade\u2019s death,\nHe e\u2019en in fate\u2019s despite may storm the wall.\u201d\n\nThus Saturn\u2019s son, and quenchless battle rous\u2019d:\nThe Gods, divided, hasten\u2019d to the war:\nJuno and Pallas to the ships of Greece,\nWith them th\u2019 Earth-shaker, and the helpful God,\nHermes, for cunning subtleties unmatch\u2019d;\nAnd Vulcan too, exulting in his strength,\nYet halting, and on feeble limbs sustain\u2019d.\nMars of the glancing helm took part with Troy,\nAnd golden Phoebus with his locks unshorn,\nLatona too, and Dian, Archer-Queen,\nXanthus, and Venus, laughter-loving dame.\n\nWhile from the fight of men the Gods abstain\u2019d,\nHigh rose the Grecian vaunts, as, long withdrawn,\nAchilles on the field again appear\u2019d:\nAnd ev\u2019ry Trojan\u2019s limbs with terror quak\u2019d,\nTrembling, as Peleus\u2019 godlike son they saw,\nIn arms all-glitt\u2019ring, fierce as blood-stain\u2019d Mars.\nBut when th\u2019 Immortals mingled in the throng,\nThen furious wax\u2019d the spirit-stirring strife;\nThen Pallas rais\u2019d her war-cry, standing now\nBeside the deep-dug trench, without the wall,\nNow shouting loud along the sounding beach.\nOn th\u2019 other side, as with the tempest\u2019s roar,\nMars to the Trojans shouted loud; one while\nFrom Ilium\u2019s topmost height; anon again\nFrom the fair hill, o\u2019erhanging Simois\u2019 stream.\nThus, either side exciting to the fray,\nTh\u2019 immortal Gods unchain\u2019d the angry war.\nThunder\u2019d on high the Sire of Gods and men\nWith awful din; while Neptune shook beneath\nThe boundless earth, and lofty mountain tops.\nThe spring-abounding Ida quak\u2019d and rock\u2019d\nFrom her firm basis to her loftiest peak,\nAnd Troy\u2019s proud city, and the ships of Greece.\nPluto, th\u2019 infernal monarch, heard alarm\u2019d,\nAnd, springing from his throne, cried out in fear,\nLest Neptune, breaking through the solid earth,\nTo mortals and Immortals should lay bare\nHis dark and drear abode, of Gods abhorr\u2019d.\nSuch was the shock when Gods in battle met;\nFor there to royal Neptune stood oppos\u2019d\nPhoebus Apollo with his arrows keen;\nThe blue-ey\u2019d Pallas to the God of War;\nTo Juno, Dian, heav\u2019nly Archeress,\nSister of Phoebus, golden-shafted Queen.\nStout Hermes, helpful God, Latona fac\u2019d;\nWhile Vulcan met the mighty rolling stream,\nXanthus by Gods, by men Scamander call\u2019d.\nThus Gods encounter\u2019d Gods: Achilles\u2019 soul\nMeantime was burning \u2019mid the throng to meet\nHector, the son of Priam; with whose blood\nHe long\u2019d to glut th\u2019 insatiate Lord of War.\nApollo then, the spirit-stirring God,\n\u00c6neas mov\u2019d Achilles to confront,\nAnd fill\u2019d with courage high; and thus, the voice\nAssuming of Lycaon, Priam\u2019s son,\nApollo, son of Jove, the chief address\u2019d:\n\n\u201c\u00c6neas, prince and councillor of Troy,\nWhere are the vaunts, which o\u2019er the wine-cup late\nThou mad\u2019st amid th\u2019 assembled chiefs of Troy,\nThat hand to hand thou wouldst Achilles meet?\u201d\n\nTo whom \u00c6neas thus in answer spoke:\n\u201cWhy, son of Priam, urge me to contend,\nAgainst my will, with Peleus\u2019 mighty son?\nNot for the first time should I now engage\nAchilles swift of foot: I met him once,\nAnd fled before his spear, on Ida\u2019s hill,\nWhen on our herds he fell; Lyrnessus then\nHe raz\u2019d, and Pedasus; me Jove preserv\u2019d,\nWith strength, endowing, and with speed of foot.\nElse had I fall\u2019n beneath Achilles\u2019 hand,\nBy Pallas aided; who before him moves,\nLight of his life, and guides his brazen spear\nTrojans and Leleges alike to slay.\n\u2019Tis not in mortal man with him to fight,\nWhom still some God attends, and guards from harm;\nAnd, e\u2019en unaided, to the mark his spear\nUnerring flies, uncheck\u2019d until it pierce\nA warrior\u2019s breast; yet if the Gods the scale\nImpartial held, all brass-clad as he is,\nO\u2019er me no easy triumph should he gain.\u201d\n\nTo whom the King Apollo, son of Jove:\n\u201cBrave chief, do thou too to th\u2019 immortal Gods\nAddress thy pray\u2019r; men say that thou art sprung\nFrom Venus, child of Jove; his mother owns\nA humbler origin; one born to Jove,\nThe other to the aged Ocean God.\nOn then with dauntless spear, nor be dismay\u2019d\nBy his high tone and vaunting menaces.\u201d\n\nHis words with courage fill\u2019d the hero\u2019s breast,\nAnd on he sprang, in dazzling arms arrayed;\nBut not unmark\u2019d of white-arm\u2019d Juno pass\u2019d,\nTo meet Achilles, through the press of men,\nWho thus address\u2019d the Gods, to council call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cNeptune and Pallas both, bethink ye well\nWhat now should be our course; \u00c6neas comes,\nIn dazzling arms array\u2019d, to meet in fight\nThe son of Peleus; Phoebus sends him forth.\nSay, then, shall we, encount\u2019ring, to retreat\nPerforce constrain him? or shall one of us\nBeside Achilles stand, and give him strength\nThat he may nothing lack; and know himself\nBy all the mightiest of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nBelov\u2019d, and those how pow\u2019rless, by whose aid\nThe Trojans yet maintain defensive war?\nTherefore, to join the battle, came we all\nFrom high Olympus, that in this day\u2019s fight\nNo ill befall him; though the time shall come\nFor him to meet the doom, by fate decreed,\nWhen at his birth his thread of life was spun.\nBut if Achilles from a voice divine\nReceive not this assurance, he may well\nBe struck with fear, if haply to some God\nHe find himself oppos\u2019d: \u2019tis hard for man\nTo meet, in presence visible, a God.\u201d\n\nTo whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied:\n\u201cJuno, thine anger carry not too far;\nIt ill beseems thee. Not with my consent\nShall we, the stronger far, provoke to arms\nThe other Gods; but rather, from the field\nRetiring, let us from on high survey,\nTo mortals left, the turmoil of the war.\nShould Mars or Phoebus then begin the fight,\nOr stay Achilles, and his arm restrain,\nThen in the contest we too may engage;\nAnd soon, methinks, will they be fain to join,\nDriv\u2019n from the field, the Synod of the Gods,\nSubdued perforce by our victorious hands.\u201d\n\nThe dark-hair\u2019d monarch spoke; and led the way\nTo the high wall, by Trojans built of old,\nWith Pallas\u2019 aid, for godlike Hercules;\nWithin whose circle he might safety seek,\nWhen from the beach the monster of the deep\nMight chase him toward the plain; there Neptune sat,\nAnd with him, the other Gods, a veil of cloud\nImpenetrable around their shoulders spread.\nOn th\u2019 other side, upon the fair hill\u2019s brow,\nPhoebus with Mars the fort-destroyer sat.\nOn either side they sat, each facing each\nWith hostile counsels; yet reluctant both\nTo take th\u2019 initiative of ruthless war;\nTill Jove, enthron\u2019d on high, the signal gave.\nThen all the plain, with men and horses throng\u2019d,\nThe brazen gleam illumin\u2019d; rang the earth\nBeneath their feet, as to the battle-shock\nThey rush\u2019d; but in the midst, both hosts between,\nEager for fight, stood forth two warriors bold,\nProudly pre-eminent; Anchises\u2019 son\n\u00c6neas, and Achilles\u2019 godlike might.\n\n\u00c6neas first with threat\u2019ning mien advanc\u2019d,\nNodding his pond\u2019rous helm; before his breast\nHis shield he bore, and pois\u2019d his brazen spear.\nHim met Achilles from th\u2019 opposing ranks;\nFierce as a rav\u2019ning lion, whom to slay\nPour forth the stalwart youths, th\u2019 united strength\nOf the rous\u2019d village; he unheeding moves\nAt first; but wounded by a jav\u2019lin thrown\nBy some bold youth, he turns, with gaping jaws,\nAnd frothing fangs, collecting for the spring,\nHis breast too narrow for his mighty heart;\nAnd with his tail he lashes both his flanks\nAnd sides, as though to rouse his utmost rage;\nThen on, in pride of strength, with glaring eyes\nHe dashes, if some hunter he may slay,\nOr in the foremost rank himself be slain.\nSo mov\u2019d his dauntless spirit Peleus\u2019 son\n\u00c6neas to confront; when near they came,\nThus first Achilles, swift of foot, began:\n\n\u201c\u00c6neas, why so far before the ranks\nAdvanc\u2019d? dost thou presume with me to fight?\nPerchance expecting that the throne of Troy\nAnd Priam\u2019s royal honours may be thine.\nE\u2019en if thou slay me, deem not to obtain\nSuch boon from Priam; valiant sons are his,\nAnd he not weak, but bears a constant mind.\nOr have the Trojans set apart for thee\nSome favour\u2019d spot, the fairest of the land,\nOrchard or corn-land, shouldst thou work my death;\nWhich thou shalt find, I trust, too hard a task?\nAlready hast thou fled before my spear;\nHast thou forgotten how amid thy herds\nAlone I found thee, and with flying foot\nPursued thee down the steep of Ida\u2019s hill?\nNor didst thou dare to turn, or pause in flight.\nThou to Lyrnessus fledd\u2019st; Lyrnessus I,\nWith Pallas\u2019 aid and Jove\u2019s, assail\u2019d and took:\nTheir women thence, their days of freedom lost,\nI bore away, my captives; thee from death,\nJove and the other Gods defended then;\nBut will not now bestow, though such thy hope,\nTheir succour; then I warn thee, while \u2019tis time,\nEre ill betide thee, to the gen\u2019ral throng\nThat thou withdraw, nor stand to me oppos\u2019d:\nAfter th\u2019 event may e\u2019en a fool be wise.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus \u00c6neas spoke:\n\u201cAchilles, think not me, as though a fool,\nTo daunt with lofty speech; I too could well\nWith cutting words, and insult, answer thee.\nEach other\u2019s race and parents well we know\nFrom tales of ancient days; although by sight\nNor mine to thee, nor thine to me are known.\nTo noble Peleus thou, \u2019tis said, wast born\nOf Thetis, fair-hair\u2019d daughter of the sea;\nOf great Anchises, Heav\u2019n-descended chief,\nI boast me sprung, to him by Venus borne.\nOf these shall one or other have this day\nTo mourn their son; since not with empty words\nShall thou and I from mortal combat part.\nBut if thou farther wouldst enquire, and learn\nThe race I spring from, not unknown to men,\nBy Dardanus, of cloud-compelling Jove\nBegotten, was Dardania peopled first,\nEre sacred Ilium, populous city of men,\nWas founded on the plain; as yet they dwelt\nOn spring-abounding Ida\u2019s lowest spurs.\nTo Dardanus was Erichthonius born,\nGreat King, the wealthiest of the sons of men;\nFor him were pastur\u2019d in the marshy mead,\nRejoicing with their foals, three thousand mares;\nThem Boreas, in the pasture where they fed,\nBeheld, enamour\u2019d; and amid the herd\nIn likeness of a coal-black steed appear\u2019d;\nTwelve foals, by him conceiving, they produc\u2019d.\nThese, o\u2019er the teeming corn-fields as they flew,\nSkimm\u2019d o\u2019er the standing ears, nor broke the haulm;\nAnd, o\u2019er wide Ocean\u2019s bosom as they flew,\nSkimm\u2019d o\u2019er the topmost spray of th\u2019 hoary sea\nAgain, to Erichthonius Tros was born,\nThe King of Troy; three noble sons were his,\nIlus, Assaracus, and Ganymede;\nThe fairest he of all the sons of men;\nHim, for his beauty, bore the Gods away,\nTo minister as cup-bearer to Jove,\nAnd dwell amid th\u2019 Immortals: Ilus next\nBegot a noble son, Laomedon;\nTithonus he, and Priam; Clytius,\nLampus and Icetaon, plant of Mars;\nCapys, begotten of Assaracus,\nBegot Anchises, and Anchises me:\nTo Priam godlike Hector owes his birth.\nSuch is my race, and such the blood I boast;\nBut Jove, at will, to mortals valour gives\nOr minishes; for he is Lord of all.\nThen cease we now, like babbling fools, to prate\nHere in the centre of the coming fight.\nTerms of reproach we both might find, whose weight\nWould sink a galley of a hundred oars;\nFor glibly runs the tongue, and can at will\nGive utt\u2019rance to discourse in ev\u2019ry vein;\nWide is the range of language; and such words\nAs one may speak, another may return.\nWhat need that we should insults interchange?\nLike women, who some paltry quarrel wage,\nScolding and brawling in the public street,\nAnd in opprobrious terms their anger vent,\nSome true, some false; for so their rage suggests.\nWith words thou shalt not turn me from the field,\nTill we have met in arms; then try we now\nEach other\u2019s prowess with our brazen spears.\u201d\n\nHe said, and hurl\u2019d against the mighty shield\nHis brazen spear; loud rang the weapon\u2019s point;\nAnd at arm\u2019s length Achilles held the shield\nWith his broad hand, in fear that through its folds\n\u00c6neas\u2019 spear would easy passage find;\nBlind fool! forgetful that the glorious gifts\nBestow\u2019d by Gods, are not with ease o\u2019ercome,\nNor yield before th\u2019 assaults of mortal men.\n\nSo broke not through \u00c6neas\u2019 sturdy spear,\nStay\u2019d by the golden plate, the gift of Heav\u2019n;\nYet through two plates it pass\u2019d, but three remain\u2019d,\nFor five were in the shield by Vulcan wrought;\nTwo were of brass, the inner two of tin,\nAnd one of gold, which stay\u2019d the brazen spear.\n\nAchilles threw in turn his pond\u2019rous spear.\nAnd struck the circle of \u00c6neas\u2019 shield\nNear the first rim, where thinnest lay the brass,\nAnd thinnest too th\u2019 o\u2019erlying hide; right through\nThe Pelian shaft was driv\u2019n; wide gap\u2019d the shield.\n\u00c6neas crouch\u2019d, in fear, as o\u2019er his head\nHe held his shield; the eager weapon pass\u2019d\nThrough both the circles of his ample shield,\nAnd in the ground, behind him, quiv\u2019ring, stood.\nEscap\u2019d the pond\u2019rous weapon, sharpest pain\nFlashing across his eyes, in fear he stood,\nSo close the spear had pass\u2019d him; onward then,\nDrawing his trenchant blade, Achilles rush\u2019d,\nWith fearful shout; a rocky fragment then\n\u00c6neas lifted up, a mighty mass,\nWhich scarce two men, as men are now, could bear,\nBut he, unaided, lifted it with ease.\nThen had \u00c6neas, with the massive stone,\nOr on the helmet, or the shield, his death\nAverting, struck Achilles; and himself\nHad by the sword of Peleus\u2019 son been slain,\nHad not th\u2019 Earth-shaking God his peril seen,\nAnd to th\u2019 Immortals thus address\u2019d his speech:\n\u201cOh, woe is me for great \u00c6neas\u2019 sake,\nWho, by Achilles slain, must visit soon\nThe viewless shades; insensate, who relied\nOn Phoebus\u2019 words; yet nought shall he avail\nFrom death to save him. Yet oh why should he,\nBlameless himself, the guilt of others rue?\nWho still his grateful sacrifice hath paid\nTo all the Gods in wide-spread Heav\u2019n who dwell.\nLet us then interpose to guard his life;\nLest, if Achilles slay him, Saturn\u2019s son\nBe mov\u2019d to anger; for his destiny\nWould have him live; lest, heirless, from the earth\nShould perish quite the race of Dardanus;\nBy Saturn\u2019s son the best-belov\u2019d of all\nHis sons, to him by mortal women born.\nFor Jove the race of Priam hath abhorr\u2019d;\nBut o\u2019er the Trojans shall \u00c6neas reign,\nAnd his sons\u2019 sons, through ages yet unborn.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the stag-ey\u2019d Queen of Heav\u2019n:\n\u201cNeptune, do thou determine for thyself\n\u00c6neas to withdraw, or leave to fall,\nGood as he is, beneath Achilles\u2019 sword;\nBut we before th\u2019 immortal Gods are bound,\nBoth I and Pallas, by repeated oaths,\nNe\u2019er from his doom one Trojan life to save,\nThough to devouring flames a prey, all Troy\nWere blazing, kindled by the valiant Greeks.\u201d\n\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaker heard; and thro\u2019 the fight he pass\u2019d,\nAnd through the throng of spears, until he came\nWhere great Achilles and \u00c6neas stood.\nAround the eyes of Peleus\u2019 son he spread\nA veil of mist; then from \u00c6neas\u2019 shield\nThe brass-tipp\u2019d spear withdrawing, laid it down\nBefore Achilles\u2019 feet; and lifting up\n\u00c6neas, bore him high above the ground.\nO\u2019er many a rank of warriors and of cars\n\u00c6neas flew, supported by the God;\nTill to the field\u2019s extremest verge he came,\nWhere stood the Caucons, arming for the war.\nThere to \u00c6neas, standing by his side,\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaker thus his winged words address\u2019d:\n\u201c\u00c6neas, say what God has mov\u2019d thee thus\nAgainst Achilles, reckless, to contend,\nThy stronger far, and dearer to the Gods?\nIf e\u2019er he cross thy path, do thou retire,\nLest, e\u2019en despite of fate, thou find thy death.\nBut when Achilles hath to fate succumb\u2019d,\nThen, fearless, with the foremost join the fray:\nNo other Greek shall bear away thy spoils.\u201d\n\nThus plainly warn\u2019d, \u00c6neas there he left.\nThen from Achilles\u2019 eyes he purg\u2019d the film:\nAstonish\u2019d, he with eyes wide open gaz\u2019d,\nAs thus he commun\u2019d with his mighty heart:\n\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n, what marvel do mine eyes behold?\nMy spear before me laid, and vanish\u2019d he\nAt whom I hurl\u2019d it with intent to slay!\nThen is \u00c6neas of th\u2019 immortal Gods\nIn truth belov\u2019d, though vain I deem\u2019d his boast.\nA curse go with him! yet methinks not soon\nWill he again presume to prove my might,\nWho gladly now in flight escapes from death.\nThen, to the valiant Greeks my orders giv\u2019n.\nLet me some other Trojan\u2019s mettle prove.\u201d\nThen tow\u2019rd the ranks he sprang, each sev\u2019ral man\nExhorting: \u201cFrom the Trojans, valiant Greeks,\nNo longer stand aloof; but man to man\nConfront the foe, and nobly dare the fight.\n\u2019Twere hard for me, brave warrior though I be,\nTo face such numbers, and to fight with all:\nNot Mars, nor Pallas, though immortal Gods,\nCould face, and vanquish, such a mighty mass.\nBut what my single arm, and feet, and strength\nMay profit, not a jot will I relax;\nRight through the ranks I mean to force my way;\nAnd small shall be that Trojan\u2019s cause for joy,\nWho comes within the compass of my spear.\u201d\n\nThus he, exhorting; Hector cheering on\nMeanwhile the Trojans, with assurance giv\u2019n\nThat he himself Achilles would confront.\n\n\u201cYe valiant Trojans, fear not Peleus\u2019 son;\nI too in words could with the Gods contend,\nThough not in arms; so much the stronger they.\nNot all his words Achilles shall make good;\nFulfilling some, in others he shall fail,\nHis course midway arrested. Him will I\nEncounter, though his hands were hands of fire,\nOf fire his hands, his strength as burnish\u2019d steel.\u201d\n\nThus he, exhorting; with uplifted spears\nAdvanc\u2019d the Trojans; from the mingling hosts\nLoud rose the clamour; then at Hector\u2019s side\nApollo stood, and thus address\u2019d the chief:\n\u201cHector, forbear Achilles to defy;\nAnd \u2019mid the crowd withdraw thee from the fray;\nLest with the spear he slay thee, thrown from far,\nOr with the sword in combat hand to hand.\u201d\n\nHe said; and troubled by the heav\u2019nly voice,\nHector amid the throng of men withdrew.\n\nThen, girt with might, amid the Trojans sprang,\nWith fearful shouts, Achilles; first he slew\nOtryntes\u2019 son, Iphition, valiant chief\nOf num\u2019rous warriors; him a Naiad nymph,\nIn Hyde\u2019s fertile vale, beneath the feet\nOf snow-clad Tmolus, to Otryntes bore;\nAt him, as on he rush\u2019d, Achilles hurl\u2019d,\nAnd through his forehead drove his glitt\u2019ring spear;\nThe head was cleft in twain; thund\u2019ring he fell,\nAnd o\u2019er him thus Achilles made his boast:\n\n\u201cSon of Otryntes, lie thou there, of men\nThe most vain-glorious; here thou find\u2019st thy death,\nFar from thy place of birth, beside the lake\nGygaean; there hadst thou thine heritage\nOf old, beside the fish-abounding stream\nOf Hyllus, and by Hermus\u2019 eddying flood.\u201d\n\nThus he, exulting: o\u2019er Iphition\u2019s eyes\nWere spread the shades of death; his mangled corpse\nWas crush\u2019d beneath the Grecian chariot wheels,\nIn the first shock. Demoleon next he smote,\nA helpful aid in war, Antenor\u2019s son,\nPierc\u2019d thro\u2019 the temples, thro\u2019 the brass-bound helm;\nNor check\u2019d the brazen helm the spear, whose point\nWent crashing through the bone, that all the brain\nWas shatter\u2019d; onward as he rush\u2019d, he fell.\nThen through the neck Hippodamas he smote,\nFlying before him, mounted on his car.\nDeep groan\u2019d he, breathing out his soul, as groans\nA bull, by sturdy youths to th\u2019 altar dragg\u2019d\nOf Neptune, King divine of Helice;\nTh\u2019 Earth-shaking God, well pleas\u2019d, the gift receives;\nE\u2019en with such groans his noble spirit fled.\nThe godlike Polydore he next assail\u2019d,\nThe son of Priam; him his aged sire\nWould fain have kept at home, of all his sons\nAt once the youngest and the best-belov\u2019d;\nAmong them all for speed of foot unmatch\u2019d;\nWhose youthful folly, in the foremost ranks\nHis speed displaying, cost him now his life.\nHim, as he darted by, Achilles\u2019 spear\nStruck through the centre of the back, where met\nThe golden clasps that held the glitt\u2019ring belt,\nAnd where the breastplate form\u2019d a double guard:\nRight through his body pass\u2019d the weapon\u2019s point;\nGroaning, he fell upon his knees; dark clouds\nO\u2019erspread his eyes; supporting with his hand\nHis wounded bowels, on the ground he writh\u2019d.\nWhen Hector saw his brother Polydore\nWrithing in death, a mist o\u2019erspread his eyes\nNor longer could he bear to stand aloof,\nBut sprang to meet Achilles, flashing fire,\nHis keen spear brandishing; at sight of him\nUp leap\u2019d Achilles, and exulting cried:\n\n\u201cLo, here the man who most hath wrung my soul,\nWho slew my lov\u2019d companion: now, methinks,\nUpon the pass of war not long shall we\nStand separate, nor each the other shun.\u201d\n\nThen, with stern glance, to godlike Hector thus:\n\u201cDraw near, and quickly meet thy doom of death.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm,\nUnterrified: \u201cAchilles, think not me,\nAs though a fool and ignorant of war,\nTo daunt with lofty speech; I too could well\nWith cutting words and insult answer thee.\nI know thee strong and valiant; and I know\nMyself to thee inferior; but th\u2019 event\nIs with the Gods; and I, if such their will,\nThe weaker, with my spear may reach thy life:\nMy point too hath, ere now, its sharpness prov\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and, poising, hurl\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear,\nWhich from Achilles Pallas turn\u2019d aside\nWith lightest breath; and back to Hector sent,\nAnd laid before his feet; intent to slay,\nOnward Achilles rush\u2019d, with fearful shout;\nBut Phoebus Hector from the field convey\u2019d,\n(As Gods can only,) veil\u2019d in thickest cloud.\nThrice Peleus\u2019 godlike son, with brazen spear,\nHis onset made; thrice struck the misty cloud;\nBut when, with pow\u2019r as of a God, he made\nHis fourth essay, in fury thus he cried:\n\n\u201cYet once again, vile hound, hast thou escap\u2019d;\nThy doom was nigh, but thee thy God hath sav\u2019d,\nPhoebus, to whom, amid the clash of spears,\nWell mayst thou pray! We yet shall meet again;\nWhen I shall end thee, if a guardian God\nI too may claim; meanwhile, from thee I turn,\nAnd others seek on whom my hap may light.\u201d\n\nHe said, and drove through Dryops\u2019 neck his spear,\nAnd stretch\u2019d him at his feet, and pass\u2019d him by.\nNext with his spear he struck below the knee\nPhiletor\u2019s son, Demuchus, stout and tall,\nAnd check\u2019d his forward course; then rushing on\nDealt with his mighty sword the mortal blow.\nThe sons of Bias next, Laogonus\nAnd Dardanus, he hurl\u2019d from off their car,\nOne with the spear, and one by sword-stroke slain.\nTros too he slew, Alastor\u2019s son, who came\nTo meet him, and embrace his knees, and pray\nTo spare his life, in pity of his youth:\nLittle he knew how vain would be his pray\u2019r;\nFor not of temper soft, nor mild of mood\nWas he, but sternly fierce; and as he knelt\nAnd clasp\u2019d his knees, and would his pray\u2019r prefer,\nAchilles clove him with his mighty sword,\nGash\u2019d through the liver; as from out the wound\nHis liver dropp\u2019d, the dark blood gushing forth\nHis bosom fill\u2019d, and darkness clos\u2019d his eyes,\nAs ebb\u2019d his life away. Then through the ear\nMulius he thrust; at th\u2019 other ear came forth\nThe brazen point. Echeclus next he met,\nSon of Agenor, and his hilted sword\nFull on the centre of his head let fall.\nThe hot blood dy\u2019d the blade; the darkling shades\nOf death, and rig\u2019rous fate, his eyes o\u2019erspread.\nNext, where the tendons bind the elbow-joint,\nThe brazen spear transfix\u2019d Deucalion\u2019s arm;\nWith death in prospect, and disabled arm\nHe stood, till on his neck Achilles\u2019 sword\nDescending, shar\u2019d, and flung afar, both head\nAnd helmet; from the spine\u2019s dissever\u2019d joints\nThe marrow flow\u2019d, as stretch\u2019d in dust he lay.\nThe noble son of Peireus next he slew,\nRigmus, who came from Thracia\u2019s fertile plains;\nHim through the waist he struck, the brazen spear\nPlung\u2019d in his bowels; from the car he fell;\nAnd as Areithous, his charioteer,\nHis horses turn\u2019d, Achilles through the neck\nHis sharp spear thrusting, hurl\u2019d him to the ground,\nThe startled steeds in wild confusion thrown.\n\nAs rage the fires amid the wooded glen\nOf some parch\u2019d mountain\u2019s side, and fiercely burns\nThe copse-wood dry, while eddying here and there\nThe flames are whirl\u2019d before the gusty wind;\nSo fierce Achilles raged, on ev\u2019ry side\nPursuing, slaught\u2019ring; reek\u2019d the earth with blood.\nAs when upon a well-roll\u2019d threshing-floor,\nTwo sturdy-fronted steers, together yok\u2019d,\nTread the white barley out; beneath their feet\nFast flies the grain out-trodden from the husk;\nSo by Achilles driv\u2019n, his flying steeds\nHis chariot bore, o\u2019er bodies of the slain\nAnd broken bucklers trampling; all beneath\nWas plash\u2019d with blood the axle, and the rails\nAround the car, as from the horses\u2019 feet\nAnd from the felloes of the wheels were thrown\nThe bloody gouts; and onward still he press\u2019d,\nPanting for added triumphs, deeply dyed\nWith gore and carnage his unconquer\u2019d hands.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE BATTLE IN THE RIVER SCAMANDER.\n\n\nThe Trojans fly before Achilles, some towards the town, others to the\nriver Scamander; he falls upon the latter with great slaughter, takes\ntwelve captives alive, to sacrifice to the shade of Patroclus; and\nkills Lycaon and Asteropaeus. Scamander attacks him with all his waves;\nNeptune and Pallas assist the hero; Simois joins Scamander; at length\nVulcan, by the instigation of Juno, almost dries up the river. This\ncombat ended, the other gods engage each other. Meanwhile Achilles\ncontinues the slaughter, and drives the rest into Troy; Agenor only\nmakes a stand, and is conveyed away in a cloud by Apollo: who (to\ndelude Achilles) takes upon him Agenor\u2019s shape, and while he pursues\nhim in that disguise, gives the Trojans an opportunity of retiring into\ntheir city.\n\nThe same day continues. The scene is on the banks and in the stream of\nScamander.\n\nBOOK XXI.\n\nBut when they came to eddying Xanthus\u2019 ford,\nFair-flowing stream, born of immortal Jove,\nAchilles cut in twain the flying host;\nPart driving tow\u2019rd the city, o\u2019er the plain,\nWhere on the former day the routed Greeks,\nWhen Hector rag\u2019d victorious, fled amain.\nOn, terror-struck, they rush\u2019d; but Juno spread,\nTo baffle their retreat, before their path,\nClouds and thick darkness: half the fugitives\nIn the deep river\u2019s silv\u2019ry eddies plung\u2019d:\nWith clamour loud they fell: the torrent roar\u2019d;\nThe banks around re-echoed; here and there,\nThey, with the eddies wildly struggling, swam.\nAs when, pursued by fire, a hov\u2019ring swarm\nOf locusts riverward direct their flight,\nAnd, as th\u2019 insatiate flames advance, they cow\u2019r\nAmid the waters; so a mingled mass\nOf men and horses, by Achilles driv\u2019n,\nThe deeply-whirling stream, of Xanthus chok\u2019d.\nHis spear amid the tamarisks on the bank\nThe hero left; on savage deeds intent,\nArm\u2019d with his sword alone, a God in pow\u2019r,\nHe sprang amid the torrent; right and left\nHe smote; then fearful rose the groans of men\nSlain with the sword; the stream ran red with blood.\nAs fishes, flying from a dolphin, crowd\nThe shoal recesses of some open bay,\nIn fear, for whom he catches he devours;\nSo crouch\u2019d the Trojans in the mighty stream\nBeneath the banks; and when at length his hand\nWearied of slaughter, from the stream, alive,\nHe dragg\u2019d twelve youths, whose forfeit lives should be\nThe bloody fine for slain Patroclus paid.\nHelpless from fear, as fawns, he brought them forth;\nTheir hands secur\u2019d behind them with the belts\nWhich o\u2019er their shirts of twisted mail they wore,\nAnd bade his comrades lead them to the ships.\nThen on again he dash\u2019d, athirst for blood;\nAnd first encounter\u2019d, flying from the stream,\nLycaon, Priam\u2019s son; him once before\nHe by a nightly onslaught had surpris\u2019d,\nAnd from his father\u2019s vineyard captive borne:\nWhere, as he cut, to form his chariot rail,\nA fig-tree\u2019s tender shoots, unlook\u2019d-for ill\nO\u2019ertook him in the form of Peleus\u2019 son.\nThence in his ship to Lemnos\u2019 thriving isle\nHe bore him, ransom\u2019d there by Jason\u2019s son.\nHis Imbrian host, Eetion, set him free\nWith lib\u2019ral gifts, and to Arisba sent:\nEscaping thence, he reach\u2019d his native home.\nTwelve days save one, rejoicing, with his friends\nHe spent, return\u2019d from Lemnos: fate, the twelfth,\nAgain consign\u2019d him to Achilles\u2019 hands,\nFrom him, reluctant, to receive his death.\nHim when Achilles, swift of foot, beheld,\nNo spear in hand, of helm and shield bereft,\nAll flung in haste away, as from the stream,\nReeking with sweat, and faint with toil, he fled,\nHe commun\u2019d, wrathful, with his mighty heart:\n\n\u201cYe Gods, what marvel do mine eyes behold!\nMethinks the valiant Trojans slain by me\nEre long will from the realms of darkness rise;\nSince, death escaping, but to slav\u2019ry sold\nIn Lemnos\u2019 isle, this fellow hath return\u2019d,\nDespite the hoary sea\u2019s impediment,\nWhich many a man against his will hath stay\u2019d:\nNow shall he taste my spear, that I may see\nIf thence too he return, or if the earth\nMay keep him safe, which e\u2019en the strongest holds.\u201d\n\nThus, as he stood, he mus\u2019d; but all aghast\nApproach\u2019d Lycaon; and would fain have clasp\u2019d\nThe Hero\u2019s knees; for longingly he sought\nEscape from bitter death and evil fate.\nAchilles rais\u2019d his spear, in act to strike;\nHe, stooping, ran beneath, and clasp\u2019d his knees;\nAbove his back the murd\u2019rous weapon pass\u2019d,\nAnd in the earth was fix\u2019d: one suppliant hand\nAchilles\u2019 knees embrac\u2019d; the other held,\nWith unrelaxing grasp, the pointed spear;\nAs he with winged words, imploring, spoke:\n\n\u201cI clasp thy knees, Achilles! look then down\nWith pity on my woes; and recognize,\nIllustrious chief, a suppliant\u2019s sacred claim:\nFor in thy tent I first broke bread, that day,\nWhen, in my father\u2019s fruitful vineyard seiz\u2019d,\nThy captive I became, to slav\u2019ry sold,\nFar from my sire and friends, in Lemnos\u2019 isle.\nA hundred oxen were my ransom then;\nAt thrice so much I now would buy my life.\nThis day is but the twelfth, since, sorely tried\nBy lengthen\u2019d suffering, back to Troy I came.\nNow to thy hands once more my cruel fate\nConsigns me; surely by the wrath of Jove\nPursued, who gives me to thy pow\u2019r again.\nMe, doom\u2019d to early death, my mother bore,\nOld Altes\u2019 daughter, fair Laothoe;\nAltes, who rul\u2019d the warlike Leleges,\nIn lofty Pedasus, by Satnois\u2019 stream.\nHis child of Priam\u2019s many wives was one;\nTwo sons she bore, and both by thee must die.\nAlready one, the godlike Polydore,\nAmid the foremost ranks thy spear hath slain;\nAnd now my doom hath found me; for from thee,\nSince evil fate hath plac\u2019d me in thy hands,\nI may not hope to fly; yet hear but this,\nAnd weigh it in thy mind, to spare my life:\nI come not of that womb which Hector bore,\nWho slew thy comrade, gentle, kind, and brave.\u201d\n\nThus Priam\u2019s noble son, imploring, spoke;\nBut stern the answer fell upon his ear:\n\n\u201cThou fool! no more to me of ransom prate!\nBefore Patroclus met the doom of death,\nTo spare the Trojans still my soul inclin\u2019d;\nAnd many captives, ta\u2019en alive, I sold;\nBut from henceforth, before the walls of Troy,\nNot one of all the Trojans, whom the Gods\nMay to my hands deliver, least of all\nA son of Priam, shall escape the death.\nThou too, my friend, must die: why vainly wail?\nDead is Patroclus too, thy better far.\nMe too thou see\u2019st, how stalwart, tall, and fair,\nOf noble sire, and Goddess-mother born:\nYet must I yield to death and stubborn fate,\nWhene\u2019er, at morn, or noon, or eve, the spear\nOr arrow from the bow may reach my life.\u201d\n\nHe said; and sank Lycaon\u2019s limbs and heart;\nHe loos\u2019d the spear, and sat, with both his hands\nUprais\u2019d, imploring; but Achilles drew,\nAnd on his neck beside the collar-bone\nLet fall his trenchant sword; the two-edg\u2019d blade\nWas buried deep; prone on the earth he lay;\nForth gush\u2019d the crimson blood, and dyed the ground.\n\nHim, dragging by the feet, Achilles threw\nIn the mid stream, and thus with vaunting speech:\n\n\u201cLie there amid the fishes, who shall cleanse,\nBut not with kindly thought, thy gory wounds:\nO\u2019er thee, extended on thy bier, shall rise\nNo mother\u2019s wail; Scamander\u2019s eddying stream\nShall to the sea\u2019s broad bosom roll thee down;\nAnd, springing through the darkly rippling wave,\nFishes shall rise, and banquet on thy flesh.\nOn now the work of death! till, flying ye,\nAnd slaught\u2019ring I, we reach the city wall.\nNor this fair-flowing, silver-eddying stream,\nShall aught avail ye, though to him ye pay\nIn sacrifice the blood of countless bulls,\nAnd living horses in his waters sink.\nYe all shall perish, till Patroclus\u2019 death\nBe fully aveng\u2019d, and slaughter of the Greeks,\nWhom, in my absence, by the ships ye slew.\u201d\nHe said: the mighty River at his words\nIndignant chaf\u2019d, and ponder\u2019d in his mind\nHow best to check Achilles\u2019 warlike toil,\nAnd from destruction guard the Trojan host.\n\nMeantime Achilles with his pond\u2019rous spear\nAsteropaeus, son of Pelegon,\nAssail\u2019d with deadly purpose; Pelegon\nTo broadly-flowing Axius ow\u2019d his birth,\nThe River-God commingling with the blood\nOf Periboea, daughter eldest born\nOf Acessamenus: on him he sprang;\nHe, from the river rising, stood oppos\u2019d.\nTwo lances in his hand; his courage rous\u2019d\nBy Xanthus, who, indignant, saw his stream\nPolluted by the blood of slaughter\u2019d youths,\nBy fierce Achilles\u2019 hand, unpitying, slain.\nWhen near the warriors, each to other, came,\nAchilles, swift of foot, took up the word:\n\u201cWhat man, and whence art thou, who dar\u2019st to stand\nOppos\u2019d to me? of most unhappy sires\nThe children they, who my encounter meet!\u201d\n\nTo whom th\u2019 illustrious son of Pelegon:\n\u201cGreat son of Peleus, why enquire my race?\nFrom far Paeonia\u2019s fertile fields I come,\nThe leader of the long-spear\u2019d Paeon host.\nTen days have pass\u2019d since I to Ilium came.\nFrom widely-flowing Axius my descent,\nAxius, the purest stream on earth that flows.\nHe Pelegon begot, the spear-renown\u2019d;\nOf Pelegon I boast me sprung; and now\nAddress thee, brave Achilles, to the fight.\u201d\n\nThreat\u2019ning he spoke: Achilles rais\u2019d on high\nThe Pelian spear; but, ambidexter, he\nFrom either hand at once a jav\u2019lin launch\u2019d.\nOne struck, but pierc\u2019d not through, the mighty shield,\nStay\u2019d by the golden plate, the gift of Heav\u2019n;\nAchilles\u2019 right fore-arm the other graz\u2019d:\nForth gush\u2019d the crimson blood; but, glancing by\nAnd vainly longing for the taste of flesh,\nThe point behind him in the earth was fix\u2019d.\nThen at Asteropaeus in his turn\nWith deadly intent the son of Peleus threw\nHis straight-directed spear; his mark he miss\u2019d,\nBut struck the lofty bank, where, deep infix\u2019d\nTo half its length, the Pelian ash remain\u2019d.\nThen from beside his thigh Achilles drew\nHis trenchant blade, and, furious, onward rush\u2019d;\nWhile from the cliff Asteropaeus strove\nIn vain, with stalwart hand, to wrench the spear.\nThree times he shook it with impetuous force,\nThree times relax\u2019d his grasp; a fourth attempt\nHe made to bend and break the sturdy shaft;\nBut him, preventing, Peleus\u2019 godlike son\nWith deadly stroke across the belly smote,\nAnd gush\u2019d his bowels forth; upon the ground\nGasping he lay, and darkness seal\u2019d his eyes.\nThen on his breast Achilles sprang, and stripp\u2019d\nHis armour off, and thus with vaunting speech:\n\u201cSo lie thou there! \u2019tis hard for thee to fight,\nThough river-born, against the progeny\nOf mighty Jove; a widely-flowing stream\nThou claim\u2019st as author of thy parentage;\nMy high descent from Jove himself I boast.\nMy father Peleus, son of \u00c6acus,\nReigns o\u2019er the num\u2019rous race of Myrmidons;\nThe son of Jove himself was \u00c6acus.\nHigh o\u2019er all rivers, that to th\u2019 ocean flow,\nIs Jove exalted; and in like degree\nSuperior is his race in pow\u2019r to theirs.\nA mighty River hast thou here at hand,\nIf that might aught avail thee; but his pow\u2019r\nIs impotent to strive with Saturn\u2019s son.\nWith him, not Achelous, King of streams,\nPresumes to vie; nor e\u2019en the mighty strength\nOf deeply-flowing, wide Oceanus;\nFrom whom all rivers, all the boundless sea,\nAll fountains, all deep wells derive their source;\nYet him appals the lightning bolt of Jove,\nAnd thunder, pealing from the vault of Heav\u2019n.\u201d\nHe said, and from the cliff withdrew his spear.\nHim left he lifeless there upon the sand\nExtended; o\u2019er him the dark waters wash\u2019d,\nAnd eels and fishes, thronging, gnaw\u2019d his flesh.\nThen \u2019mid the Paeons\u2019 plumed host he rush\u2019d,\nWho fled along the eddying stream, when him,\nTheir bravest in the stubborn fight, they saw\nSlain by the sword and arm of Peleus\u2019 son.\nThersilochus and Mydon then he slew,\nMnesus and Thrasius and Astypylus,\n\u00c6nius and Ophelestes; and yet more\nHad been the slaughter by Achilles wrought,\nBut from his eddying depths, in human form,\nWith wrathful tone the mighty River spoke:\n\n\u201cIn strength, Achilles, and in deeds of arms,\nAll mortals thou surpassest; for the Gods\nThemselves attend thee, and protect from harm;\nIf Saturn\u2019s son have given thee utterly\nThe Trojans to destroy, yet, ere thou slay,\nFar from my waters drive them o\u2019er the plain;\nFor now my lovely stream is fill\u2019d with dead;\nNor can I pour my current to the sea,\nWith floating corpses chok\u2019d, whilst thou pursuest\nThe work of death, insatiate: stay thy hand!\nWith horror I behold thee, mighty chief!\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cBe it as thou wilt, Scamander, Heav\u2019n-born stream;\nYet cease I not to slay until I drive\nThese vaunting Trojans to their walls, and prove\nThe force of Hector, if, in single fight,\nI be by him, or he by me, subdued.\u201d\n\nHe said, and fiercely on the Trojans rush\u2019d,\nA God in might! to Phoebus then his speech\nThe deeply-eddying River thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cGod of the silver bow, great son of Jove,\nObey\u2019st thou thus the will of Saturn\u2019s son,\nWho charg\u2019d thee by the Trojans still to stand,\nAnd aid their cause, till ev\u2019ning\u2019s late approach\nShould cast its shadows o\u2019er the fertile earth?\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, from off the lofty bank\nAchilles springing in mid current plung\u2019d;\nThen high the swelling stream, tumultuous, rose\nIn all its angry flood; and with a roar\nAs of a bellowing bull, cast forth to land\nThe num\u2019rous corpses by Achilles slain;\nAnd many living, in his cavern\u2019d bed,\nConceal\u2019d behind the whirling waters sav\u2019d.\nFierce, round Achilles, rose the boiling wave,\nAnd on his shield descending, drove him down;\nNor might he keep his foothold; but he grasp\u2019d\nA lofty elm, well-grown, which from the cliff\nUprooted, all the bank had torn away,\nAnd with its tangled branches check\u2019d the flow\nOf the fair river, which with all its length\nIt bridg\u2019d across; then, springing from the deep,\nSwiftly he fled in terror o\u2019er the plain.\nNor ceas\u2019d the mighty River, but pursued,\nWith darkly-ruffling crest, intent to stay\nAchilles\u2019 course, and save the Trojan host.\nFar as a jav\u2019lin\u2019s flight he rush\u2019d, in speed\nLike the dark hunter eagle, strongest deem\u2019d,\nAnd swiftest wing\u2019d of all the feather\u2019d race.\nSo on he sped; loud rattled on his breast\nHis brazen armour, as before the God,\nCow\u2019ring, he fled; the God behind him still\nWith thund\u2019ring sound pursued. As when a man\nFrom some dark-water\u2019d spring through trenches leads,\n\u2019Mid plants and gardens, th\u2019 irrigating stream,\nAnd, spade in hand, th\u2019 appointed channel clears:\nDown flows the stream anon, its pebbly bed\nDisturbing; fast it flows with bubbling sound,\nDown the steep slope, o\u2019ertaking him who leads.\nAchilles so th\u2019 advancing wave o\u2019ertook,\nThough great his speed; but man must yield to Gods,\nOft as Achilles, swift of foot, essay\u2019d\nTo turn and stand, and know if all the Gods,\nWho dwell in Heav\u2019n, were leagued to daunt his soul\nSo oft the Heav\u2019n-born River\u2019s mighty wave\nAbove his shoulders dash\u2019d; in deep distress\nHe sprang on high; then rush\u2019d the flood below,\nAnd bore him off his legs, and wore away\nThe soil beneath his feet; then, groaning, thus,\nAs up to Heav\u2019n he look\u2019d, Achilles cried:\n\u201cO Father Jove, will none of all the Gods\nIn pity save me from this angry flood?\nContent, thereafter, would I meet my fate.\nOf all the pow\u2019rs of Heav\u2019n, my mother most\nHath wrong\u2019d me, who hath buoy\u2019d me up with hope\nDelusive, that, before the walls of Troy,\nI should by Phoebus\u2019 swift-wing\u2019d arrows fall.\nWould that by Hector\u2019s hand \u2019twere mine to die,\nThe bravest of their brave! a warrior so\nWere by a warrior slain! now am I doom\u2019d\nIgnobly here to sink, the mighty flood\nO\u2019erwhelming me, like some poor shepherd lad,\nBorne down in crossing by a wintry brook.\u201d\n\nHe said; and quickly, cloth\u2019d in mortal form,\nNeptune and Pallas at his side appear\u2019d;\nWith cheering words they took him by the hand,\nAnd thus th\u2019 Earth-shaking God his speech began:\n\n\u201cAchilles, fear not thou, nor be dismay\u2019d;\nSuch pow\u2019rful aid, by Jove\u2019s consent, we bring,\nPallas and I, from Heav\u2019n; \u2019tis not decreed\nThat thou shouldst by the River be o\u2019erwhelm\u2019d;\nHe shall retire ere long, and thou shalt see;\nAnd more, if thou wilt hear, we undertake\nThat from the war thine arm shall not be stay\u2019d,\nTill thou shalt drive beneath the walls of Troy\nThe crowd of flying Trojans; thou thyself\nShalt Hector slay, and safe regain the ships:\nSuch high renown we give thee to achieve.\u201d\n\nThey to the other Gods, this said, return\u2019d;\nHe, greatly strengthen\u2019d by the voice divine,\nPress\u2019d onwards to the plain; the plain he found\nAll flooded o\u2019er; and, floating, armour fair,\nAnd many a corpse of men in battle slain;\nYet onward, lifting high his feet, he press\u2019d\nRight tow\u2019rd the stream; nor could the mighty stream\nCheck his advance, such vigour Pallas gave;\nNor did Scamander yet his fury stay,\nBut fiercer rose his rage; and rearing high\nHis crested wave, to Simois thus he cried:\n\n\u201cDear brother, aid me with united force\nThis mortal\u2019s course to check; he, unrestrain\u2019d,\nWill royal Priam\u2019s city soon destroy,\nNor will the Trojans his assault endure.\nHaste to the rescue then, and from their source\nFill all thy stream, and all thy channels swell;\nRouse thy big waves, and roll a torrent down\nOf logs and stones, to whelm this man of might,\nWho triumphs now, and bears him as a God.\nNought shall his strength or beauty then avail,\nOr gallant arms, beneath the waters sunk,\nDeep buried in the mud: himself will I\nIn sand imbed, and o\u2019er his corpse a pile\nOf shingly gravel heap; nor shall the Greeks\nBe able to collect his bones, encas\u2019d\nBy me so deep in slime. His monument\nThey here may raise; but when they celebrate\nHis fun\u2019ral rites, no mound will he require.\u201d\n\nHe said; and on Achilles, from on high\nCame boiling, rushing down, with thund\u2019ring roar,\nWith foam and blood and corpses intermix\u2019d.\nHigh rose the Heav\u2019n-born River\u2019s darkling wave,\nAnd bore Achilles downward; then in fear\nLest the broad waters of the eddying stream\nShould quite o\u2019erwhelm him, Juno cried aloud,\nAnd Vulcan thus, her son, in haste address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cUp, Vulcan; up, my son; for we had deem\u2019d\nThat eddying Xanthus stood to thee oppos\u2019d:\nHaste thee to aid; thy fiery strength display;\nWhile from the sea I call the stormy blast\nOf Zephyr and brisk Notus, who shall drive\nThe raging flames ahead, and burn alike\nThe Trojans and their arms: do thou the while\nBurn down the trees on Xanthus\u2019 banks; himself\nAssail with fire, nor by his honey\u2019d words\nNor by his menaces be turn\u2019d aside;\nNor, till thou hear my voice, restrain thy pow\u2019r;\nThen stay the raging flames\u2019 unwearied course.\u201d\n\nThus Juno spoke; and Vulcan straight prepar\u2019d\nThe heav\u2019nly fire; and first upon the plain\nThe flames he kindled, and the dead consum\u2019d,\nWho lay, promiscuous, by Achilles slain:\nThe plain was dried, and stay\u2019d the wat\u2019ry flood.\nAs when the breath of Boreas quickly dries\nIn Autumn-time a newly-water\u2019d field,\nThe tiller\u2019s heart rejoicing: so was dried\nThe spacious plain; then he, the dead consum\u2019d,\nAgainst the river turn\u2019d the fiery glare:\nBurnt were the willows, elms, and tamarisk shrubs,\nThe lotus, and the reeds, and galingal,\nWhich by the lovely river grew profuse.\nThe eels and fishes, \u2019mid the eddying whirl,\n\u2019Mid the clear wave were hurrying here and there,\nIn dire distress from Vulcan\u2019s fiery breath:\nScorch\u2019d by the flames, the mighty River spoke:\n\n\u201cVulcan, no God against thy pow\u2019r can stand,\nNor with thy fiery flames will I contend;\nRestrain thy wrath; though Peleus\u2019 godlike son\nShould from their city drive the Trojans straight,\nWith rival parties what concern have I?\u201d\n\nAll scorch\u2019d he spoke; his fair stream bubbling up,\nAs when a caldron on a blazing fire,\nFill\u2019d with the melting fat of well-fed swine,\nBoils up within, and bubbles all around,\nWith well-dried wood beneath, so bubbling up\nThe waters of the lovely River boil\u2019d:\nNor onward would he flow, but check\u2019d his course,\nBy the hot blast o\u2019er-borne, and fiery strength\nOf skilful Vulcan; and to Juno thus,\nImploring, he his winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cJuno, what cause impels thy son, my stream,\nO\u2019er all the rest, to visit with his wrath?\nE\u2019en less than others who the Trojans aid,\nHave I offended; yet at thy command\nWill I withdraw; but bid that he too cease;\nAnd this I swear, no Trojan more to save,\nThough to devouring flames a prey, all Troy\nWere blazing, kindled by the valiant Greeks.\u201d\n\nThis when the white-arm\u2019d Goddess Juno heard,\nTo Vulcan straight she thus address\u2019d her speech:\n\u201cVulcan, my glorious son, restrain thy hand:\nIn mortal men\u2019s behalf, it is not meet\nTo press thus hardly an Immortal God.\u201d\n\nShe said, and Vulcan stay\u2019d his fiery strength,\nAnd, back returning, in his wonted bed\nFlow\u2019d the fair River. Xanthus thus subdued,\nThese two their warfare ceas\u2019d, by Juno check\u2019d,\nDespite her wrath; but \u2019mid the other Gods\nArose contention fierce, and discord dire,\nTheir warring passions rous\u2019d on either side.\nWith fearful crash they met: the broad Earth groan\u2019d;\nLoud rang the Heav\u2019n as with a trumpet\u2019s sound:\nJove, on Olympus\u2019 height, the tumult heard,\nAnd in his heart he laugh\u2019d a joyous laugh,\nTo see the Gods in angry battle met.\nNot long they stood aloof, led on by Mars\nThe buckler-breaker, who to Pallas first,\nPoising his spear, his bitter speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cWhat dost thou here, thou saucy jade, to war\nThe Gods exciting, overbold of mood,\nLed by thy haughty spirit? dost thou forget\nHow thou the son of Tydeus, Diomed,\nDidst urge against me, and with visible spear\nDirect his aim, and aid to wound my flesh?\nFor all I suffer\u2019d then, thou now shalt pay.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, he struck the tassell\u2019d shield,\nAwful to view, which not the lightning bolt\nOf Jove himself could pierce: the blood-stain\u2019d Mars\nAgainst it thrust in vain his pond\u2019rous spear.\nThe Goddess stoop\u2019d, and in her ample hand\nTook up a stone, that lay upon the plain,\nDark, rugged, vast, which men of elder days\nHad set to mark the limits of their land.\nFull on the neck of Mars she hurl\u2019d the mass,\nHis limbs relaxing: o\u2019er sev\u2019n hundred feet\nProstrate he lay, his hair defil\u2019d with dust:\nLoud rang his armour; and with scornful smile\nPallas address\u2019d him thus with vaunting speech:\n\n\u201cFool, hast thou yet to learn how mightier far\nMy strength than thine, that me thou dar\u2019st to meet?\nBear thus the burthen of thy mother\u2019s curse,\nWho works thee harm, in wrath that thou the Greeks\nDeserting, aid\u2019st the haughty Trojans\u2019 cause.\u201d\n\nShe said, and turn\u2019d away her piercing glance:\nHim, deeply groaning, scarce to life restor\u2019d,\nJove\u2019s daughter Venus taking by the hand,\nLed from the field; which when the white-arm\u2019d Queen\nBeheld, in haste to Pallas thus she cried:\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n, brave child of aegis-bearing Jove,\nUndaunted! lo again this saucy jade\nAmid the press, the bane of mortals, Mars\nLeads from the field; but haste thee in pursuit.\u201d\n\nThus Juno: Pallas hasten\u2019d in pursuit\nWell pleas\u2019d; and Venus with her pow\u2019rful hand\nAssailing, struck upon the breast; at once\nThe Goddess\u2019 courage and her limbs gave way.\nThere on the ground the two together lay,\nWhile Pallas o\u2019er them thus with vaunting speech:\n\n\u201cWould all were such, who aid the Trojan cause,\nWhene\u2019er they meet in fight the warlike Greeks,\nAs valiant and as stout as Venus proves,\nWho brings her aid to Mars, confronting me;\nThen had our warlike labours long been o\u2019er,\nAnd Ilium\u2019s strong-built citadel overthrown.\u201d\n\nThus Pallas spoke: the white-arm\u2019d Goddess smil\u2019d,\nAnd to Apollo thus th\u2019 Earth-shaker spoke:\n\n\u201cPhoebus, why stand we idly thus aloof?\nThe war begun by others, \u2019tis not meet;\nAnd shame it were, that to Olympus\u2019 height\nAnd to the brazen-floor\u2019d abode of Jove\nWe two without a contest should return.\nThou then begin, as younger: \u2019twere not well\nFor me, in age and practice more advanc\u2019d.\nFeeble of soul, how senseless is thy heart!\nHast thou forgotten all the cruel wrongs\nWe two, alone of all th\u2019 Immortals, bore,\nWhen here, in Ilium, for a year, we serv\u2019d,\nBy Jove\u2019s command, the proud Laomedon,\nFor promis\u2019d hire; and he our tasks assign\u2019d?\nHis fortress, and a wall both broad and fair\nI built, the town\u2019s impregnable defence;\nWhile thou didst on his plodding herds attend,\nIn many-crested Ida\u2019s woody glens.\nBut when the joyous seasons, in their course,\nHad brought our labour\u2019s term, the haughty King\nDenied our guerdon, and with threats dismiss\u2019d.\nBound hand and foot, he threaten\u2019d thee to send\nAnd sell to slav\u2019ry in the distant isles,\nAnd with the sword cut off the ears of both.\nSo in indignant sorrow we return\u2019d,\nRobb\u2019d of the hire he promis\u2019d, but denied.\nFor this thy favour dost thou show to Troy;\nAnd dost not rather join thy force to ours,\nThat down upon their knees the Trojans all\nShould perish, with their babes and matrons chaste.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus the far-destroying King:\n\u201cEarth-shaking God, I should not gain with thee\nThe esteem of wise, if I with thee should fight\nFor mortal men; poor wretches, who like leaves\nFlourish awhile, and eat the fruits of earth,\nBut, sapless, soon decay: from combat then\nRefrain we, and to others leave the strife.\u201d\n\nHe turn\u2019d, thus saying: for he deem\u2019d it shame\nHis father\u2019s brother to assail in arms;\nBut him his sister, Goddess of the chase,\nRebuk\u2019d, and thus with scornful speech address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cFliest thou, Apollo? and to Neptune leav\u2019st\nThe easy victory and baseless fame?\nWhy o\u2019er thy shoulder hangs thine idle bow?\nNe\u2019er in our father\u2019s halls again, as erst\nAmong th\u2019 Immortals, let me hear thee boast\nHow thou with Neptune wouldst in arms contend.\u201d\n\nThus she; Apollo answer\u2019d not a word;\nBut Jove\u2019s imperial consort, fill\u2019d with wrath,\nAssail\u2019d with bitter words the Archer-Queen.\n\n\u201cHow canst thou dare, thou saucy minx, to stand[7]\nOppos\u2019d to me, too great for thine assault,\nDespite thy bow? though Jove hath giv\u2019n thee pow\u2019r\nO\u2019er feeble women, whom thou wilt, to slay,\nE\u2019en as a lion; better were\u2019t for thee\nTo chase the mountain beasts and flying hinds,\nThan thy superiors thus to meet in arms,\nBut since thou dar\u2019st confront me, thou shalt know\nAnd feel how far my might surpasses thine.\u201d\n\nShe said; and with the left hand both the wrists\nOf Dian grasping, with her ample right\nThe bow and quiver from her shoulders tore;\nAnd with them, as she turn\u2019d away her head,\nWith scornful laughter buffeted her ears:\nThe arrows keen were scatter\u2019d on the ground:\nWeeping, the Goddess fled; as flies a dove\nThe hawk\u2019s pursuit, and in a hollow rock\nFinds refuge, doom\u2019d not yet to fall a prey;\nSo, weeping, Dian fled, and left her bow.\n\nThem Hermes to Latona thus: \u201cWith thee\nI strive not; shame it were to meet in fight\nA consort of the cloud-compelling Jove.\nFreely amid th\u2019 Immortals make thy boast,\nThat by thy prowess thou hast vanquish\u2019d me.\u201d\n\nThus he: Latona gather\u2019d up the bow,\nAnd fallen arrows, scatter\u2019d here and there\nAmid the whirling dust; then, these regain\u2019d,\nFollowing her daughter, from the field withdrew.\nMeanwhile to high Olympus fled the Maid,\nAnd to the brazen-floor\u2019d abode of Jove.\nThere, weeping, on her father\u2019s knees she sat,\nWhile quiver\u2019d round her form th\u2019 ambrosial robe.\nThe son of Saturn tow\u2019rds him drew his child,\nAnd thus, with gracious smile, enquiry made:\n\u201cWhich of the heav\u2019nly pow\u2019rs hath wrong\u2019d thee thus\nMy child, as guilty of some open shame?\u201d\n\nTo whom the bright-crown\u2019d Goddess of the chase:\n\u201cThy wife, my father, white-arm\u2019d Juno; she\nHath dealt thus rudely with me; she, from whom\nAll jars and strife among the Gods proceed.\u201d\n\nSuch converse while they held, the gates of Troy\nApollo enter\u2019d, for the well-built wall\nAlarm\u2019d, lest e\u2019en against the will of fate\nThe Greeks that day should raze it to the ground.\nThe other Gods were to Olympus gone,\nTriumphant these, and those in angry mood,\nAnd took their seats before the cloud-girt Sire.\nBut on the Trojans pressing, Peleus\u2019 son\nHorses and men alike, promiscuous, slew.\nAs in a city, which the Gods in wrath\nHave fir\u2019d, whose volleying smoke ascends to Heav\u2019n,\nOn all her people grievous toil is cast,\nOn many, harm and loss; such toil, such loss\nAchilles wrought amid the Trojan host.\n\nUpon a lofty tow\u2019r, the work of Gods,\nThe aged Priam stood, and thence beheld\nBy fierce Achilles driven in flight confused,\nTheir courage quite subdued, the Trojan host:\nThen, groaning, from the tow\u2019r he hasten\u2019d down,\nAnd to the warders cried along the wall:\n\n\u201cStand to the gates, and hold them open\u2019d wide,\nThat in the crowd of fugitives may pour,\nAnd refuge find; for close upon their flight\nAchilles hangs; disaster now is near.\nBut while our friends, receiv\u2019d within the walls,\nFind time to breathe again, replace in haste\nThe closely-fitting portals; for I fear\nThat man of blood may e\u2019en the city storm.\u201d\n\nHe said; the gates they open\u2019d, and drew back\nThe solid bars; the portals, op\u2019ning wide,\nLet in the light; but in the vacant space\nApollo stood, the Trojan host to save.\nThe flyers, parch\u2019d with thirst and dust-begrim\u2019d,\nStraight for the city and the lofty wall\nMade from the plain; Achilles, spear in hand,\nPress\u2019d hotly on the rearmost; for his soul\nWith rage was fill\u2019d, and madd\u2019ning lust of fame.\nAnd now the lofty-gated city of Troy\nThe sons of Greece had won; but Phoebus rous\u2019d\nAgenor\u2019s spirit, a valiant youth and strong,\nSon of Antenor; he his bosom fill\u2019d\nWith dauntless courage, and beside him stood\nTo turn aside the heavy hand of death,\nAs, veil\u2019d in cloud, against the oak he lean\u2019d.\nHe, when Achilles\u2019 awful form he knew,\nYet firmly stood, though much perplex\u2019d in mind,\nAs thus he commun\u2019d with his mighty heart:\n\n\u201cOh woe is me! should I attempt to fly\nBefore Achilles\u2019 might, where fly the rest\nAcross the plain, disorder\u2019d, he would soon\nO\u2019ertake me, and in flight ignoble slay.\nOr should I leave the others to their fate,\nScatter\u2019d by Peleus\u2019 son; and from the wall\nAnd o\u2019er the plain of Troy direct my flight,\nFar as the foot of Ida\u2019s hill, and there\nLie hid in thickest covert; and at eve,\nRefresh\u2019d by bathing in the cooling stream,\nAnd purg\u2019d the sweat, retrace my steps to Troy?\nYet why, my soul, admit such thoughts as these?\nFor should he mark me flying from the town,\nAnd overtake me by his speed of foot,\nNo hope were left me of escape from death.\nSo far his strength exceeds the strength of man.\nBut how if boldly I await him here\nBefore the wall? his flesh is not to wounds\nImpervious: but a single life is his,\nNor is he more, they say, than mortal man,\nThough Jove assists him, and his triumph wills.\u201d\n\nHe said, and stood collected, to await\nAchilles\u2019 onset; and his manly heart,\nWith courage fill\u2019d, was eager for the fray.\nAs when a panther from the thicket\u2019s depth\nComes forth to meet the hunter, undismay\u2019d,\nNor turn\u2019d to flight by baying of the hounds;\nNor, wounded or by jav\u2019lin or by sword,\nOr by the spear transfix\u2019d, remits her rage,\nBut fights, until she reach her foe, or die;\nAgenor so, Antenor\u2019s godlike son,\nDisdain\u2019d to fly, ere prove Achilles\u2019 might.\nBefore his breast his shield\u2019s broad orb he bore,\nAnd pois\u2019d his spear, as thus he call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cThy hope, renown\u2019d Achilles, was this day\nThe valiant Trojans\u2019 city to destroy;\nUnconscious of the toils, the woes, that ye\nAround her walls await ye! for within\nAre warriors brave and num\u2019rous, who will fight\nIn her defence, for parents, children, wives.\nThou too, Achilles, here shalt meet thy doom,\nAll-pow\u2019rful as thou art, and warrior bold.\u201d\n\nHe said, and threw with stalwart hand the spear;\nAchilles\u2019 leg he struck, below the knee,\nNor miss\u2019d his aim; and loudly rang the greaves\nOf new-wrought tin; but back the brazen point\nRebounded, nor the heav\u2019nly armour pierc\u2019d.\nIn turn Achilles on Agenor sprang:\nBut Phoebus robb\u2019d him of his hop\u2019d-for prize,\nWho, veil\u2019d in thickest cloud, convey\u2019d away\nAntenor\u2019s son, and from the battle bore\nTo rest in peace; while he by guile withdrew\nThe son of Peleus from the flying crowd:\nFor in Agenor\u2019s very likeness clad,\nBefore him stood the far-destroying King:\nThen fled, Achilles hast\u2019ning in pursuit.\nHe o\u2019er the fertile plain with flying foot\nPursu\u2019d; beside Scamander\u2019s eddying stream\nApollo turn\u2019d, and still but little space\nBefore him flying, subtly lur\u2019d him on,\nEach moment hoping to attain his prize.\nMeantime the gen\u2019ral crowd, in panic flight,\nWith eager haste the city\u2019s refuge sought,\nAnd all the town with fugitives was fill\u2019d.\nNor did they dare without the walls to stand\nFor mutual aid; nor halt to know what friends\nWere safe, who left upon the battle-field;\nBut through the gates pour\u2019d in the hurrying mass\nWho to their active limbs their safety ow\u2019d.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE DEATH OF HECTOR.\n\n\nThe Trojans being safe within the walls, Hector only stays to oppose\nAchilles. Priam is struck at his approach, and tries to persuade his\nson to re-enter the town. Hecuba joins his entreaties, but in vain.\nHector consults within himself what measures to take; but, at the\nadvance of Achilles, his resolution fails him, and he flies: Achilles\npursues him thrice round the walls of Troy. The gods debate concerning\nthe fate of Hector; at length Minerva descends to the aid of Achilles.\nShe deludes Hector in the shape of Deiphobus; he stands the combat, and\nis slain. Achilles drags the dead body at his chariot, in the sight of\nPriam and Hecuba. Their lamentations, tears, and despair. Their cries\nreach the ears of Andromache, who, ignorant of this, was retired into\nthe inner part of the palace; she mounts up to the walls, and beholds\nher dead husband. She swoons at the spectacle. Her excess of grief and\nlamentation.\n\nThe thirtieth day still continues. The scene lies under the walls, and\non the battlements of Troy.\n\nBOOK XXII.\n\nThus they from panic flight, like timorous fawns.\nWithin the walls escaping, dried their sweat,\nAnd drank, and quench\u2019d their thirst, reclining safe\nOn the fair battlements; but nearer drew,\nWith slanted shields, the Greeks; yet Hector still\nIn front of Ilium and the Scaean gate,\nStay\u2019d by his evil doom, remain\u2019d without;\nThen Phoebus thus to Peleus\u2019 godlike son:\n\u201cAchilles, why with active feet pursue,\nThou mortal, me Immortal? know\u2019st thou not\nMy Godhead, that so hot thy fury burns?\nOr heed\u2019st thou not that all the Trojan host\nWhom thou hast scar\u2019d, while thou art here withdrawn,\nWithin the walls a refuge safe have found?\nOn me thy sword is vain! I know not death!\u201d\n\nEnrag\u2019d, Achilles, swift of foot, replied:\n\u201cDeep is the injury, far-darting King,\nMost hostile of the Gods, that at thy hand\nI bear, who here hast lur\u2019d me from the walls,\nWhich many a Trojan else had fail\u2019d to reach,\nEre by my hand they bit the bloody dust.\nMe of immortal honour thou hast robb\u2019d,\nAnd them, thyself from vengeance safe, hast sav\u2019d.\nHad I the pow\u2019r, that vengeance thou shouldst feel.\u201d\n\nThus saying, and on mightiest deeds intent,\nHe turn\u2019d him city-ward, with fiery speed;\nAs when a horse, contending for the prize,\nWhirls the swift car, and stretches o\u2019er the plain,\nE\u2019en so, with active limbs, Achilles rac\u2019d.\n\nHim first the aged Priam\u2019s eyes discern\u2019d,\nScouring the plain, in arms all dazzling bright,\nLike to th\u2019 autumnal star, whose brilliant ray\nShines eminent amid the depth of night,\nWhom men the dog-star of Orion call;\nThe brightest he, but sign to mortal man\nOf evil augury, and fiery heat:\nSo shone the brass upon the warrior\u2019s breast.\n\nThe old man groan\u2019d aloud, and lifting high\nHis hands, he beat his head, and with loud voice\nCall\u2019d on his son, imploring; he, unmov\u2019d,\nHeld post before the gates, awaiting there\nAchilles\u2019 fierce encounter; him his sire,\nWith hands outstretch\u2019d and piteous tone, address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cHector, my son, await not here alone\nThat warrior\u2019s charge, lest thou to fate succumb,\nBeneath Pelides\u2019 arm, thy better far!\nAccurs\u2019d be he! would that th\u2019 immortal Gods\nSo favour\u2019d him as I! then should his corpse\nSoon to the vultures and the dogs be giv\u2019n!\n(So should my heart a load of anguish lose)\nBy whom I am of many sons bereav\u2019d,\nMany and brave, whom he has slain, or sold\nTo distant isles in slav\u2019ry; and e\u2019en now,\nWithin the city walls I look in vain\nFor two, Lycaon brave, and Polydore,\nMy gallant sons, by fair Laothoe:\nIf haply yet they live, with brass and gold\nTheir ransom shall be paid; good store of these\nWe can command; for with his daughter fair\nA wealthy dowry aged Altes gave.\nBut to the viewless shades should they have gone,\nDeep were their mother\u2019s sorrow and my own;\nBut of the gen\u2019ral public, well I know\nFar lighter were the grief, than if they heard\nThat thou hadst fall\u2019n beneath Achilles\u2019 hand.\nThen enter now, my son, the city gates,\nAnd of the women and the men of Troy,\nBe still the guardian; nor to Peleus\u2019 son,\nWith thine own life, immortal glory give.\nLook too on me with pity; me, on whom,\nE\u2019en on the threshold of mine age, hath Jove\nA bitter burthen cast, condemn\u2019d to see\nMy sons struck down, my daughters dragg\u2019d away\nIn servile bonds; our chambers\u2019 sanctity\nInvaded; and our babes by hostile hands\nDash\u2019d to the ground; and by ferocious Greeks\nEnslav\u2019d the widows of my slaughter\u2019d sons.\nOn me at last the rav\u2019ning dogs shall feed,\nWhen by some foeman\u2019s hand, by sword or lance,\nMy soul shall from my body be divorc\u2019d;\nThose very dogs which I myself have bred,\nFed at my table, guardians of my gate,\nShall lap my blood, and over-gorg\u2019d shall lie\nE\u2019en on my threshold. That a youth should fall\nVictim, to Mars, beneath a foeman\u2019s spear,\nMay well beseem his years; and if he fall\nWith honour, though he die, yet glorious he!\nBut when the hoary head and hoary beard,\nAnd naked corpse to rav\u2019ning dogs are giv\u2019n,\nNo sadder sight can wretched mortals see.\u201d\n\nThe old man spoke, and from, his head he tore\nThe hoary hair; yet Hector firm remain\u2019d.\nThen to the front his mother rush\u2019d, in tears,\nHer bosom bare, with either hand her breast\nSustaining, and with tears address\u2019d him thus:\n\u201cHector, my child, thy mother\u2019s breast revere;\nAnd on this bosom if thine infant woes\nHave e\u2019er been hush\u2019d, bear now in mind, dear child,\nThe debt thou ow\u2019st; and from within the walls\nWard off this fearful man, nor in the field\nEncounter; curs\u2019d be he! should he prevail,\nAnd slay thee, not upon the fun\u2019ral bed,\nMy child, my own, the offspring of my womb,\nShall I deplore thee, nor thy widow\u2019d wife,\nBut far away, beside the Grecian ships,\nThy corpse shall to the rav\u2019ning dogs be giv\u2019n.\u201d\n\nThus they, with tears and earnest pray\u2019rs imploring,\nAddress\u2019d their son; yet Hector firm remain\u2019d,\nWaiting th\u2019 approach of Peleus\u2019 godlike son.\nAs when a snake upon the mountain side,\nWith deadly venom charg\u2019d, beside his hole,\nAwaits the traveller, and fill\u2019d with rage,\nCoil\u2019d round his hole, his baleful glances darts;\nSo fill\u2019d with dauntless courage Hector stood,\nScorning retreat, his gleaming buckler propp\u2019d\nAgainst the jutting tow\u2019r; then, deeply mov\u2019d,\nThus with his warlike soul communion held:\n\n\u201cOh woe is me! if I should enter now\nThe city gates, I should the just reproach\nEncounter of Polydamas, who first\nHis counsel gave within the walls to lead\nThe Trojan forces, on that fatal night\nWhen great Achilles in the field appear\u2019d.\nI heeded not his counsel; would I had!\nNow, since my folly hath the people slain,\nI well might blush to meet the Trojan men,\nAnd long-rob\u2019d dames of Troy, lest some might say,\nTo me inferior far, \u2018This woful loss\nTo Hector\u2019s blind self-confidence we owe.\u2019\nThus shall they say; for me, \u2019twere better far,\nOr from Achilles, slain in open fight,\nBack to return in triumph, or myself\nTo perish nobly in my country\u2019s cause.\nWhat if my bossy shield I lay aside,\nAnd stubborn helmet, and my pond\u2019rous spear\nPropping against the wall, go forth to meet\nTh\u2019 unmatch\u2019d Achilles? What if I engage\nThat Helen\u2019s self, and with her all the spoil,\nAnd all that Paris in his hollow ships\nBrought here to Troy, whence first this war arose,\nShould be restor\u2019d; and to the Greeks be paid\nAn ample tribute from the city\u2019s stores,\nHer secret treasures; and hereafter bind\nThe Trojans by their Elders\u2019 solemn oaths\nNought to withhold, but fairly to divide\nWhate\u2019er of wealth our much-loved city holds?\nBut wherefore entertain such thoughts, my soul?\nShould I so meet him, what if he should show\nNor pity nor remorse, but slay me there,\nDefenceless as a woman, and unarm\u2019d?\nNot this the time, nor he the man, with whom\nBy forest oak or rock, like youth and maid,\nTo hold light talk, as youth and maid might hold.\nBetter to dare the fight, and know at once\nTo whom the vict\u2019ry is decreed by Heav\u2019n.\u201d\n\nThus, as he stood, he mus\u2019d; but near approach\u2019d\nAchilles, terrible as plumed Mars;\nFrom his right shoulder brandishing aloft\nThe ashen spear of Peleus, while around\nFlash\u2019d his bright armour, dazzling as the glare\nOf burning fire, or of the rising sun.\nHector beheld, and trembled at the sight;\nNor dar\u2019d he there await th\u2019 attack, but left\nThe gates behind, and, terror-stricken, fled.\nForward, with flying foot, Pelides rush\u2019d.\nAs when a falcon, bird of swiftest flight,\nFrom some high mountain-top, on tim\u2019rous dove\nSwoops fiercely down; she, from beneath, in fear,\nEvades the stroke; he, dashing through the brake,\nShrill-shrieking, pounces on his destin\u2019d prey;\nSo, wing\u2019d with desp\u2019rate hate, Achilles flew,\nSo Hector, flying from his keen pursuit,\nBeneath the walls his active sinews plied.\nThey by the watch-tow\u2019r, and beneath the wall\nWhere stood the wind-beat fig-tree, rac\u2019d amain\nAlong the public road, until they reach\u2019d\nThe fairly-flowing fount whence issu\u2019d forth,\nFrom double source, Scamander\u2019s eddying streams.\nOne with hot current flows, and from beneath,\nAs from a furnace, clouds of steam arise;\n\u2019Mid summer\u2019s heat the other rises cold\nAs hail, or snow, or water crystalliz\u2019d;\nBeside the fountains stood the washing-troughs\nOf well-wrought stone, where erst the wives of Troy\nAnd daughters fair their choicest garments wash\u2019d,\nIn peaceful times, ere came the sons of Greece.\nThere rac\u2019d they, one in flight, and one pursuing;\nGood he who fled, but better who pursu\u2019d,\nWith fiery speed; for on that race was stak\u2019d\nNo common victim, no ignoble ox:\nThe prize at stake was mighty Hector\u2019s life.\nAs when the solid-footed horses fly\nAround the course, contending for the prize,\nTripod, or woman of her lord bereft;\nSo rac\u2019d they thrice around the walls of Troy\nWith active feet; and all the Gods beheld.\nThen thus began the Sire of Gods and men:\n\u201cA woful sight mine eyes behold; a man\nI love in flight around the walls! my heart\nFor Hector grieves, who, now upon the crown\nOf deeply-furrow\u2019d Ida, now again\nOn Ilium\u2019s heights, with fat of choicest bulls\nHath pil\u2019d mine altar; whom around the walls,\nWith flying speed Achilles now pursues.\nGive me your counsel, Gods, and say, from death\nIf we shall rescue him, or must he die,\nBrave as he is, beneath Pelides\u2019 hand?\u201d\n\nTo whom the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess, Pallas, thus:\n\u201cO Father, lightning-flashing, cloud-girt King,\nWhat words are these? wouldst thou a mortal man,\nLong doom\u2019d by fate, again from death preserve?\nDo as thou wilt, but not with our consent.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:\n\u201cBe of good cheer, my child! unwillingly\nI speak, yet both thy wishes to oppose:\nHave then thy will, and draw not back thy hand.\u201d\n\nHis words fresh impulse gave to Pallas\u2019 zeal,\nAnd from Olympus\u2019 heights in haste she sped.\n\nMeanwhile on Hector, with untiring hate.\nThe swift Achilles press\u2019d: as when a hound,\nThrough glen and tangled brake, pursues a fawn,\nRous\u2019d from its lair upon the mountain side;\nAnd if awhile it should evade pursuit,\nLow crouching in the copse, yet quests he back,\nSearching unwearied, till he find the trace;\nSo Hector sought to baffle, but in vain,\nThe keen pursuit of Peleus\u2019 active son.\nOft as he sought the shelter of the gates\nBeneath the well-built tow\u2019rs, if haply thence\nHis comrades\u2019 weapons might some aid afford;\nSo oft his foeman, with superior speed,\nWould cut him off, and turn him to the plain.\nHe tow\u2019rd the city still essay\u2019d his flight;\nAnd as in dreams, when one pursues in vain,\nOne seeks in vain to fly, the other seeks\nAs vainly to pursue; so could not now\nAchilles reach, nor Hector quit, his foe.\nYet how should Hector now the doom of death\nHave \u2019scap\u2019d, had not Apollo once again,\nAnd for the last time, to his rescue come,\nAnd giv\u2019n him strength and suppleness of limb?\n\nThen to the crowd Achilles with his head\nMade sign that none at Hector should presume\nTo cast a spear, lest one might wound, and so\nThe greater glory obtain, while he himself\nMust be contented with the second place.\nBut when the fourth time in their rapid course\nThe founts were reach\u2019d, th\u2019 Eternal Father hung\nHis golden scales aloft, and plac\u2019d in each\nThe lots of doom, for great Achilles one,\nFor Hector one, and held them by the midst:\nDown sank the scale, weighted with Hector\u2019s death,\nDown to the shades, and Phoebus left his side.\n\nThen to Pelides came the blue-ey\u2019d Maid,\nAnd stood beside him, and bespoke him thus:\n\u201cAchilles, lov\u2019d of Heav\u2019n, I trust that now\nTo thee and me great glory shall accrue\nIn Hector\u2019s fall, insatiate of the fight.\nEscape he cannot now, though at the feet\nOf aegis-bearing Jove, on his behalf,\nWith earnest pray\u2019r Apollo prostrate fall.\nBut stay thou here and take thy breath, while I\nPersuade him to return and dare the fight.\u201d\n\nSo Pallas spoke; and he with joy obeying,\nStood leaning on his brass-barb\u2019d ashen spear.\nThe Goddess left him there, and went (the form\nAnd voice assuming of Deiphobus)\nIn search of godlike Hector; him she found,\nAnd standing near, with winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cSorely, good brother, hast thou been bested\nBy fierce Achilles, who around the walls\nHath chas\u2019d thee with swift foot; now stand we both\nFor mutual succour, and his onset wait.\u201d\n\nTo whom great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\u201cDeiphobus, of all my brothers, sons\nOf Hecuba and Priam, thou hast been\nStill dearest to my heart; and now the more\nI honour thee who dar\u2019st on my behalf,\nSeeing my peril, from within the walls\nTo sally forth, while others skulk behind.\u201d\n\nTo whom the blue-ey\u2019d Goddess thus replied:\n\u201cWith many pray\u2019rs, good brother, both our sire\nAnd honour\u2019d mother, and our comrades all\nSuccessively implored me to remain;\nSuch fear is fall\u2019n on all; but in my soul\nOn thine account too deep a grief I felt.\nNow, forward boldly! spare we not our spears;\nMake trial if Achilles to the ships\nFrom both of us our bloody spoils can bear,\nOr by thine arm himself may be subdued.\u201d\n\nThus Pallas lur\u2019d him on with treach\u2019rous wile;\nBut when the two were met, and close at hand,\nFirst spoke great Hector of the glancing helm:\n\n\u201cNo more before thee, Peleus\u2019 son, I fly:\nThrice have I fled around the walls, nor dar\u2019d\nAwait thine onset; now my spirit is rous\u2019d\nTo stand before thee, to be slain, or slay.\nBut let us first th\u2019 immortal Gods invoke;\nThe surest witnesses and guardians they\nOf compacts: at my hand no foul disgrace\nShalt thou sustain, if Jove with victory\nShall crown my firm endurance, and thy life\nTo me be forfeit; of thine armour stripp\u2019d\nI promise thee, Achilles, to the Greeks\nThy body to restore; do thou the like.\u201d\n\nWith fierce regard Achilles answer\u2019d thus:\n\u201cHector, thou object of my deadly hate,\nTalk not to me of compacts; as \u2019tween men\nAnd lions no firm concord can exist,\nNor wolves and lambs in harmony unite,\nBut ceaseless enmity between them dwells:\nSo not in friendly terms, nor compact firm,\nCan thou and I unite, till one of us\nGlut with his blood the mail-clad warrior Mars.\nMind thee of all thy fence; behoves thee now\nTo prove a spearman skill\u2019d, and warrior brave.\nFor thee escape is none; now, by my spear,\nHath Pallas doom\u2019d thy death; my comrades\u2019 blood,\nWhich thou hast shed, shall all be now aveng\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and poising, hurl\u2019d his weighty spear;\nBut Hector saw, and shunn\u2019d the blow; he stoop\u2019d,\nAnd o\u2019er his shoulder flew the brass-tipp\u2019d spear,\nAnd in the ground was fix\u2019d; but Pallas drew\nThe weapon forth, and to Achilles\u2019 hand,\nAll unobserv\u2019d of Hector, gave it back.\nThen Hector thus to Peleus\u2019 matchless son:\n\n\u201cThine aim has fail\u2019d; nor truly has my fate,\nThou godlike son of Peleus, been to thee\nFrom Heav\u2019n reveal\u2019d; such was indeed thy boast;\nBut flippant was thy speech, and subtly fram\u2019d\nTo scare me with big words, and make me prove\nFalse to my wonted prowess and renown.\nNot in my back will I receive thy spear,\nBut through my breast, confronting thee, if Jove\nHave to thine arm indeed such triumph giv\u2019n.\nNow, if thou canst, my spear in turn elude;\nMay it be deeply buried in thy flesh!\nFor lighter were to Troy the load of war,\nIf thou, the greatest of her foes, wert slain.\u201d\n\nHe said, and poising, hurl\u2019d his pond\u2019rous spear;\nNor miss\u2019d his aim; full in the midst he struck\nPelides\u2019 shield; but glancing from the shield\nThe weapon bounded off. Hector was griev\u2019d,\nThat thus his spear had bootless left his hand.\nHe stood aghast; no second spear was nigh:\nAnd loudly on Deiphobus he call\u2019d\nA spear to bring; but he was far away.\nThen Hector knew that he was dup\u2019d, and cried,\n\u201cOh Heav\u2019n! the Gods above have doom\u2019d my death!\nI deem\u2019d indeed that brave Deiphobus\nWas near at hand; but he within the walls\nIs safe, and I by Pallas am betray\u2019d.\nNow is my death at hand, nor far away:\nEscape is none; since so hath Jove decreed,\nAnd Jove\u2019s far-darting son, who heretofore\nHave been my guards; my fate hath found me now.\nYet not without a struggle let me die,\nNor all inglorious; but let some great act,\nWhich future days may hear of, mark my fall.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, his sharp-edged sword he drew,\nPond\u2019rous and vast, suspended at his side;\nCollected for the spring, and forward dash\u2019d:\nAs when an eagle, bird of loftiest flight,\nThrough the dark clouds swoops downward on the plain,\nTo seize some tender lamb, or cow\u2019ring hare;\nSo Hector rush\u2019d, and wav\u2019d his sharp-edg\u2019d sword.\nAchilles\u2019 wrath was rous\u2019d: with fury wild\nHis soul was fill\u2019d: before his breast he bore\nHis well-wrought shield; and fiercely on his brow\nNodded the four-plum\u2019d helm, as on the breeze\nFloated the golden hairs, with which the crest\nBy Vulcan\u2019s hand was thickly interlac\u2019d;\nAnd as amid the stars\u2019 unnumber\u2019d host,\nWhen twilight yields to night, one star appears,\nHesper, the brightest star that shines in Heav\u2019n,\nGleam\u2019d the sharp-pointed lance, which in his right\nAchilles pois\u2019d, on godlike Hector\u2019s doom\nIntent, and scanning eagerly to see\nWhere from attack his body least was fenc\u2019d.\nAll else the glitt\u2019ring armour guarded well,\nWhich Hector from Patroclus\u2019 corpse had stripp\u2019d;\nOne chink appear\u2019d, just where the collar-bone\nThe neck and shoulder parts, beside the throat,\nWhere lies expos\u2019d the swiftest road of death.\nThere levell\u2019d he, as Hector onward rush\u2019d;\nRight through the yielding neck the lance was driv\u2019n,\nBut sever\u2019d not the windpipe, nor destroy\u2019d\nHis pow\u2019r of speech; prone in the dust he fell;\nAnd o\u2019er him, vaunting, thus Achilles spoke:\n\n\u201cHector, Patroclus stripping of his arms,\nThy hope was that thyself wast safe; and I,\nNot present, brought no terror to thy soul:\nFool! in the hollow ships I yet remain\u2019d,\nI, his avenger, mightier far than he;\nI, who am now thy conqu\u2019ror. By the dogs\nAnd vultures shall thy corpse be foully torn,\nWhile him the Greeks with fun\u2019ral rites shall grace.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d Hector of the glancing helm,\nProstrate and helpless: \u201cBy thy soul, thy knees,\nThy parents\u2019 heads, Achilles, I beseech,\nLet not my corpse by Grecian dogs be torn.\nAccept the ample stores of brass and gold,\nWhich as my ransom by my honour\u2019d sire\nAnd mother shall be paid thee; but my corpse\nRestore, that so the men and wives of Troy\nMay deck with honours due my fun\u2019ral pyre.\u201d\n\nTo whom, with fierce aspect, Achilles thus:\n\u201cKnee me no knees, vile hound! nor prate to me\nOf parents! such my hatred, that almost\nI could persuade myself to tear and eat\nThy mangled flesh; such wrongs I have to avenge,\nHe lives not, who can save thee from the dogs;\nNot though with ransom ten and twenty fold\nHe here should stand, and yet should promise more;\nNo, not though Priam\u2019s royal self should sue\nTo be allow\u2019d for gold to ransom thee;\nNo, not e\u2019en so, thy mother shall obtain\nTo lay thee out upon the couch, and mourn\nO\u2019er thee, her offspring; but on all thy limbs\nShall dogs and carrion vultures make their feast.\u201d\n\nTo whom thus Hector of the glancing helm,\nDying: \u201cI know thee well; nor did I hope\nTo change thy purpose; iron is thy soul.\nBut see that on thy head I bring not down\nThe wrath of Heav\u2019n, when by the Scaean gate\nThe hand of Paris, with Apollo\u2019s aid,\nBrave warrior as thou art, shall strike thee down.\u201d\n\nE\u2019en as he spoke, his eyes were clos\u2019d in death;\nAnd to the viewless shades his spirit fled,\nMourning his fate, his youth and vigour lost.\n\nTo him, though dead, Achilles thus replied:\n\u201cDie thou! my fate I then shall meet, whene\u2019er\nJove and th\u2019 immortal Gods shall so decree.\u201d\n\nHe said, and from the corpse his spear withdrew,\nAnd laid aside; then stripp\u2019d the armour off,\nWith, blood besmear\u2019d; the Greeks around him throng\u2019d,\nGazing on Hector\u2019s noble form and face,\nAnd none approach\u2019d that did not add a wound:\nAnd one to other look\u2019d, and said, \u201cGood faith,\nHector is easier far to handle now,\nThen when erewhile he wrapp\u2019d our ships in fire.\u201d\nThus would they say, then stab the dead anew.\n\nBut when the son of Peleus, swift of foot,\nHad stripp\u2019d the armour from the corpse, he rose,\nAnd, standing, thus th\u2019 assembled Greeks address\u2019d:\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nSince Heav\u2019n hath granted us this man to slay,\nWhose single arm hath wrought us more of ill\nThan all the rest combin\u2019d, advance we now\nBefore the city in arms, and trial make\nWhat is the mind of Troy; if, Hector slain,\nThey from the citadel intend retreat,\nOr still, despite their loss, their ground maintain.\nBut wherefore entertain such thoughts, my soul?\nBeside the ships, unwept, unburied, lies\nPatroclus: whom I never can forget,\nWhile number\u2019d with the living, and my limbs\nHave pow\u2019r to move; in Hades though the dead\nMay be forgotten, yet e\u2019en there will I\nThe mem\u2019ry of my lov\u2019d companion keep.\nNow to the ships return we, sons of Greece,\nGlad paeans singing! with us he shall go;\nGreat glory is ours, the godlike Hector slain,\nThe pride of Troy, and as a God rever\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and foully Hector\u2019s corpse misus\u2019d;\nOf either foot he pierc\u2019d the tendon through,\nThat from the ancle passes to the heel,\nAnd to his chariot bound with leathern thongs,\nLeaving the head to trail along the ground;\nThen mounted, with the captur\u2019d arms, his car,\nAnd urg\u2019d his horses; nothing loth, they flew.\nA cloud of dust the trailing body rais\u2019d:\nLoose hung his glossy hair; and in the dust\nWas laid that noble head, so graceful once;\nNow to foul insult doom\u2019d by Jove\u2019s decree,\nIn his own country, by a foeman\u2019s hand.\nSo lay the head of Hector; at the sight\nHis aged mother tore her hair, and far\nFrom off her head the glitt\u2019ring veil she threw,\nAnd with loud cries her slaughter\u2019d son bewail\u2019d.\nPiteous, his father groan\u2019d; and all around\nWas heard the voice of wailing and of woe.\nSuch was the cry, as if the beetling height\nOf Ilium all were smould\u2019ring in the fire.\nScarce in his anguish could the crowd restrain\nThe old man from issuing through the Dardan gates;\nLow in the dust he roll\u2019d, imploring all,\nEntreating by his name each sev\u2019ral man:\n\u201cForbear, my friends; though sorrowing, stay me not;\nLeave me to reach alone the Grecian ships,\nAnd there implore this man of violence,\nThis haughty chief, if haply he my years\nMay rev\u2019rence, and have pity on my age.\nFor he too has a father, like to me;\nPeleus, by whom he was begot, and bred,\nThe bane of Troy; and, most of all, to me\nThe cause of endless grief, who by his hand\nHave been of many stalwart sons bereft.\nYet all, though griev\u2019d for all, I less lament,\nThan one, whose loss will sink me to the grave,\nHector! oh would to Heav\u2019n that in mine arms\nHe could have died; with mourning then and tears\nWe might have satisfied our grief, both she\nWho bore him, hapless mother, and myself.\u201d\n\nWeeping, he spoke; and with him wept the crowd:\nThen, \u2019mid the women, Hecuba pour\u2019d forth\nHer vehement grief: \u201cMy child, oh whither now,\nHeart-stricken, shall I go, of thee bereft,\nOf thee, who wast to me by night and day\nA glory and a boast; the strength of all\nThe men of Troy, and women? as a God\nThey worshipp\u2019d thee: for in thy life thou wast\nThe glory of all; but fate hath found thee now.\u201d\n\nWeeping, she spoke; but nought as yet was known\nTo Hector\u2019s wife; to her no messenger\nHad brought the tidings, that without the walls\nRemained her husband; in her house withdrawn\nA web she wove, all purple, double woof,\nWith varied flow\u2019rs in rich embroidery,\nAnd to her neat-hair\u2019d maidens gave command\nTo place the largest caldrons on the fire,\nThat with warm baths, returning from the fight,\nHector might be refresh\u2019d; unconscious she,\nThat by Achilles\u2019 hand, with Pallas\u2019 aid,\nFar from the bath, was godlike Hector slain.\nThe sounds of wailing reach\u2019d her from the tow\u2019r;\nTotter\u2019d her limbs, the distaff left her hand,\nAnd to her neat-hair\u2019d maidens thus she spoke:\n\u201cHaste, follow me, some two, that I may know\nWhat mean these sounds; my honour\u2019d mother\u2019s voice\nI hear; and in my breast my beating heart\nLeaps to my mouth; my limbs refuse to move;\nSome evil, sure, on Priam\u2019s house impends.\nBe unfulfill\u2019d my words! yet much I fear\nLest my brave Hector be cut off alone,\nBy great Achilles, from the walls of Troy,\nChas\u2019d to the plain, the desp\u2019rate courage quench\u2019d,\nWhich ever led him from the gen\u2019ral ranks\nFar in advance, and bade him yield to none.\u201d\n\nThen from the house she rush\u2019d, like one distract,\nWith beating heart; and with her went her maids.\nBut when she reach\u2019d the tow\u2019r, where stood the crowd,\nAnd mounted on the wall, she look\u2019d around,\nAnd saw the body which with insult foul\nThe flying steeds were dragging towards the ships;\nThen sudden darkness overspread her eyes;\nBackward she fell, and gasp\u2019d her spirit away.\nFar off were flung th\u2019 adornments of her head,\nThe net, the fillet, and the woven bands;\nThe nuptial veil by golden Venus giv\u2019n,\nThat day when Hector of the glancing helm\nLed from Eetion\u2019s house his wealthy bride.\nThe sisters of her husband round her press\u2019d,\nAnd held, as in the deadly swoon she lay.\nBut when her breath and spirit return\u2019d again,\nWith sudden burst of anguish thus she cried:\n\u201cHector, oh woe is me! to misery\nWe both were born alike; thou here in Troy\nIn Priam\u2019s royal palace; I in Thebes,\nBy wooded Placos, in Eetion\u2019s house,\nWho nurs\u2019d my infancy; unhappy he,\nUnhappier I! would I had ne\u2019er been born!\nNow thou beneath the depths of earth art gone,\nGone to the viewless shades; and me hast left\nA widow in thy house, in deepest woe;\nOur child, an infant still, thy child and mine,\nIll-fated parents both! nor thou to him,\nHector, shalt be a guard, nor he to thee:\nFor though he \u2019scape this tearful war with Greece,\nYet nought for him remains but ceaseless woe,\nAnd strangers on his heritage shall seize.\nNo young companions own the orphan boy:\nWith downcast eyes, and cheeks bedew\u2019d with tears,\nHis father\u2019s friends approaching, pinch\u2019d with want,\nHe hangs upon the skirt of one, of one\nHe plucks the cloak; perchance in pity some\nMay at their tables let him sip the cup,\nMoisten his lips, but scarce his palate touch;\nWhile youths, with both surviving parents bless\u2019d,\nMay drive him from their feast with blows and taunts,\n\u2018Begone! thy father sits not at our board:\u2019\nThen weeping, to his widow\u2019d mother\u2019s arms\nHe flies, that orphan boy, Astyanax,\nWho on his father\u2019s knees erewhile was fed\nOn choicest marrow, and the fat of lambs;\nAnd, when in sleep his childish play was hush\u2019d,\nWas lull\u2019d to slumber in his nurse\u2019s arms\nOn softest couch, by all delights surrounded.\nBut grief, his father lost, awaits him now,\nAstyanax, of Trojans so surnam\u2019d,\nSince thou alone wast Troy\u2019s defence and guard.\nBut now on thee, beside the beaked ships,\nFar from thy parents, when the rav\u2019ning dogs\nHave had their fill, the wriggling worms shall feed;\nOn thee, all naked; while within thy house\nLies store of raiment, rich and rare, the work\nOf women\u2019s hands; these will I burn with fire;\nNot for thy need\u2014thou ne\u2019er shalt wear them more,\u2014\nBut for thine honour in the sight of Troy.\u201d\n\nWeeping she spoke; the women join\u2019d her wail.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nFUNERAL GAMES IN HONOUR OF PATROCLUS.\n\n\nAchilles and the Myrmidons do honour to the body of Patroclus. After\nthe funeral feast he retires to the sea-shore, where, falling asleep,\nthe ghost of his friend appears to him, and demands the rites of\nburial: the next morning the soldiers are sent with mules and waggons\nto fetch wood for the pyre. The funeral procession, and the offering\ntheir hair to the dead. Achilles sacrifices several animals, and\nlastly, twelve Trojan captives, at the pile; then sets fire to it. He\npays libations to the winds, which (at the instance of Iris) rise, and\nraise the flame. When the pile has burned all night, they gather the\nbones, place them in an urn of gold, and raise the tomb. Achilles\ninstitutes the funeral games: the chariot-race, the fight of the\ncaestus, the wrestling, the footrace, the single combat, the discus,\nthe shooting with arrows, the darting the javelin: the various\ndescriptions of which, and the various success of the several\nantagonists, make the greatest part of the book.\n\nIn this book ends the thirtieth day: the night following, the ghost of\nPatroclus appears to Achilles: the one-and-thirtieth day is employed in\nfelling the timber for the pile; the two-and-thirtieth in burning it;\nand the three-and-thirtieth in the games. The scene is generally on the\nsea-shore.\n\nBOOK XXIII.\n\nThus they throughout the city made their moan;\nBut when the Greeks had come where lay their ships\nBy the broad Hellespont, their sev\u2019ral ways\nThey each pursu\u2019d, dispersing; yet not so\nAchilles let his Myrmidons disperse,\nBut thus his warlike comrades he address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cMy faithful comrades, valiant Myrmidons,\nLoose we not yet our horses from the cars;\nBut for Patroclus mourn, approaching near,\nWith horse and car; such tribute claim the dead;\nThen, free indulgence to our sorrows giv\u2019n,\nLoose we the steeds, and share the ev\u2019ning meal.\u201d\n\nHe said; and they with mingled voices rais\u2019d\nThe solemn dirge; Achilles led the strain;\nThrice round the dead they drove their sleek-skinn\u2019d steeds,\nMourning, with hearts by Thetis grief-inspir\u2019d;\nWith tears the sands, with tears the warriors\u2019 arms,\nWere wet; so mighty was the chief they mourn\u2019d.\nThen on his comrade\u2019s breast Achilles laid\nHis blood-stain\u2019d hands, and thus began the wail:\n\n\u201cAll hail, Patroclus, though in Pluto\u2019s realm;\nAll that I promis\u2019d, lo! I now perform;\nThat on the corpse of Hector, hither dragg\u2019d,\nOur dogs should feed; and that twelve noble youths,\nThe sons of Troy, before thy fun\u2019ral pyre,\nMy hand, in vengeance for thy death, should slay.\u201d\n\nHe said, and foully Hector\u2019s corpse misus\u2019d,\nFlung prostrate in the dust, beside the couch\nWhere lay Menoetius\u2019 son. His comrades then\nTheir glitt\u2019ring armour doff\u2019d, of polish\u2019d brass,\nAnd loos\u2019d their neighing steeds; then round the ship\nOf Peleus\u2019 son in countless numbers sat,\nWhile he th\u2019 abundant fun\u2019ral feast dispens\u2019d.\nThere many a steer lay stretch\u2019d beneath the knife,\nAnd many a sheep, and many a bleating goat,\nAnd many a white-tusk\u2019d porker, rich in fat,\nThere lay extended, singeing o\u2019er the fire;\nAnd blood, in torrents, flow\u2019d around the corpse.\nTo Agamemnon then the Kings of Greece\nThe royal son of Peleus, swift of foot,\nConducted; yet with him they scarce prevail\u2019d;\nSo fierce his anger for his comrade\u2019s death.\nBut when to Agamemnon\u2019s tent they came,\nHe to the clear-voic\u2019d heralds gave command\nAn ample tripod on the fire to place;\nIf haply Peleus\u2019 son he might persuade\nTo wash away the bloody stains of war:\nBut sternly he, and with an oath refus\u2019d.\n\n\u201cNo, by great Jove I swear, of all the Gods\nHighest and mightiest, water shall not touch\nThis head of mine, till on the fun\u2019ral pyre\nI see the body of Patroclus laid,\nAnd build his tomb, and cut my votive hair;\nFor while I live and move \u2019mid mortal men,\nNo second grief like this can pierce my soul.\nObserve we now the mournful fun\u2019ral feast;\nBut thou, great Agamemnon, King of men,\nSend forth at early dawn, and to the camp\nBring store of fuel, and all else prepare,\nThat with provision meet the dead may pass\nDown to the realms of night; so shall the fire\nFrom out our sight consume our mighty dead,\nAnd to their wonted tasks the troops return.\u201d\n\nHe said; they listen\u2019d, and his words obey\u2019d;\nThen busily the ev\u2019ning meal prepar\u2019d,\nAnd shar\u2019d the social feast; nor lack\u2019d there aught.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nEach to their sev\u2019ral tents the rest repair\u2019d;\nBut on the many-dashing ocean\u2019s shore\nPelides lay, amid his Myrmidons,\nWith bitter groans; in a clear space he lay,\nWhere broke the waves, continuous, on the beach.\nThere, circumfus\u2019d around him, gentle sleep,\nLulling the sorrows of his heart to rest,\nO\u2019ercame his senses; for the hot pursuit\nOf Hector round the breezy heights of Troy\nHis active limbs had wearied: as he slept,\nSudden appear\u2019d Patroclus\u2019 mournful shade,\nHis very self; his height, and beauteous eyes,\nAnd voice; the very garb he wont to wear:\nAbove his head it stood, and thus it spoke:\n\n\u201cSleep\u2019st thou, Achilles, mindless of thy friend,\nNeglecting, not the living, but the dead?\nHasten my fun\u2019ral rites, that I may pass\nThrough Hades\u2019 gloomy gates; ere those be done,\nThe spirits and spectres of departed men\nDrive me far from them, nor allow to cross\nTh\u2019 abhorred river; but forlorn and sad\nI wander through the wide-spread realms of night.\nAnd give me now thy hand, whereon to weep;\nFor never more, when laid upon the pyre,\nShall I return from Hades; never more,\nApart from all our comrades, shall we two,\nAs friends, sweet counsel take; for me, stern Death,\nThe common lot of man, has op\u2019d his mouth;\nThou too, Achilles, rival of the Gods,\nArt destin\u2019d here beneath the walls of Troy\nTo meet thy doom; yet one thing must I add,\nAnd make, if thou wilt grant it, one request.\nLet not my bones be laid apart from thine,\nAchilles, but together, as our youth\nWas spent together in thy father\u2019s house,\nSince first my sire Menoetius me a boy\nFrom Opus brought, a luckless homicide,\nWho of Amphidamas, by evil chance,\nHad slain the son, disputing o\u2019er the dice:\nMe noble Peleus in his house receiv\u2019d,\nAnd kindly nurs\u2019d, and thine attendant nam\u2019d;\nSo in one urn be now our bones enclos\u2019d,\nThe golden vase, thy Goddess-mother\u2019s gift.\u201d\n\nWhom answer\u2019d thus Achilles, swift of foot:\n\u201cWhy art thou here, lov\u2019d being? why on me\nThese sev\u2019ral charges lay? whate\u2019er thou bidd\u2019st\nWill I perform, and all thy mind fulfil;\nBut draw thou near; and in one short embrace,\nLet us, while yet we may, our grief indulge.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, he spread his longing arms,\nBut nought he clasp\u2019d; and with a wailing cry,\nVanish\u2019d, like smoke, the spirit beneath the earth.\nUp sprang Achilles, all amaz\u2019d, and smote\nHis hands together, and lamenting cried:\n\n\u201cO Heav\u2019n, there are then, in the realms below,\nSpirits and spectres, unsubstantial all;\nFor through the night Patroclus\u2019 shade hath stood,\nWeeping and wailing, at my side, and told\nHis bidding; th\u2019 image of himself it seem\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said; his words the gen\u2019ral grief arous\u2019d:\nTo them, as round the piteous dead they mourn\u2019d,\nAppear\u2019d the rosy-finger\u2019d morn; and straight,\nFrom all the camp, by Agamemnon sent,\nWent forth, in search of fuel, men and mules,\nLed by a valiant chief, Meriones,\nThe follower of renown\u2019d Idomeneus.\nTheir felling axes in their hands they bore,\nAnd twisted ropes; their mules before them driv\u2019n;\nNow up, now down, now sideways, now aslope,\nThey journey\u2019d on; but when they reach\u2019d the foot\nOf spring-abounding Ida, they began\nWith axes keen to hew the lofty oaks;\nThey, loudly crashing, fell: the wood they clove,\nAnd bound it to the mules; these took their way\nThrough the thick brushwood, hurrying to the plain.\nThe axe-men too, so bade Meriones,\nThe follower of renown\u2019d Idomeneus,\nWere laden all with logs, which on the beach\nThey laid in order, where a lofty mound,\nIn mem\u2019ry of Patroclus and himself,\nAchilles had design\u2019d. When all the store\nOf wood was duly laid, the rest remain\u2019d\nIn masses seated; but Achilles bade\nThe warlike Myrmidons their armour don,\nAnd harness each his horses to his car;\nThey rose and donn\u2019d their arms, and on the cars\nWarriors and charioteers their places took.\n\nFirst came the horse, and then a cloud of foot,\nUnnumber\u2019d; in the midst Patroclus came,\nBorne by his comrades; all the corpse with hair\nThey cover\u2019d o\u2019er, which from their heads they shore.\nBehind, Achilles held his head, and mourn\u2019d\nThe noble friend whom to the tomb he bore.\nThen on the spot by Peleus\u2019 son assign\u2019d,\nThey laid him down, and pil\u2019d the wood on high.\nThen a fresh thought Achilles\u2019 mind conceiv\u2019d:\nStanding apart, the yellow locks he shore,\nWhich as an off\u2019ring to Sperchius\u2019 stream,\nHe nurs\u2019d in rich profusion; sorrowing then\nLook\u2019d o\u2019er the dark-blue sea, as thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cSperchius, all in vain to thee his pray\u2019r\nMy father Peleus made, and vow\u2019d that I,\nReturn\u2019d in safety to my native land,\nTo thee should dedicate my hair, and pay\nA solemn hecatomb, with sacrifice\nOf fifty rams, unblemish\u2019d, to the springs\nWhere on thy consecrated soil is plac\u2019d\nThine incense-honour\u2019d altar; so he vow\u2019d;\nBut thou the boon withhold\u2019st; since I no more\nMy native land may see, the hair he vow\u2019d,\nTo brave Patroclus thus I dedicate.\u201d\n\nHe said, and on his comrade\u2019s hand he laid\nThe locks; his act the gen\u2019ral grief arous\u2019d;\nAnd now the setting sun had found them still\nIndulging o\u2019er the dead; but Peleus\u2019 son\nApproaching, thus to Agamemnon spoke:\n\n\u201cAtrides, for to thee the people pay\nReadiest obedience, mourning too prolong\u2019d\nMay weary; thou then from the pyre the rest\nDisperse, and bid prepare the morning meal;\nOurs be the farther charge, to whom the dead\nWas chiefly dear; yet let the chiefs remain.\u201d\n\nThe monarch Agamemnon heard, and straight\nDispers\u2019d the crowd amid their sev\u2019ral ships.\nTh\u2019 appointed band remain\u2019d, and pil\u2019d the wood.\nA hundred feet each way they built the pyre,\nAnd on the summit, sorrowing, laid the dead.\nThen many a sheep and many a slow-paced ox\nThey flay\u2019d and dress\u2019d around the fun\u2019ral pyre;\nOf all the beasts Achilles took the fat,\nAnd cover\u2019d o\u2019er the corpse from head to foot,\nAnd heap\u2019d the slaughter\u2019d carcases around;\nThen jars of honey plac\u2019d, and fragrant oils,\nResting upon the couch; next, groaning loud,\nFour pow\u2019rful horses on the pyre he threw;\nThen, of nine dogs that at their master\u2019s board\nHad fed, he slaughter\u2019d two upon his pyre;\nLast, with the sword, by evil counsel sway\u2019d,\nTwelve noble youths he slew, the sons of Troy.\nThe fire\u2019s devouring might he then applied,\nAnd, groaning, on his lov\u2019d companion call\u2019d:\n\n\u201cAll hail, Patroclus, though in Pluto\u2019s realm!\nAll that I promis\u2019d, lo! I now perform:\nOn twelve brave sons of Trojan sires, with thee,\nThe flames shall feed; but Hector, Priam\u2019s son,\nNot to the fire, but to the dogs I give.\u201d\n\nSuch was Achilles\u2019 threat, but him the dogs\nMolested not; for Venus, night and day\nDaughter of Jove, the rav\u2019ning dogs restrain\u2019d;\nAnd all the corpse o\u2019erlaid with roseate oil,\nAmbrosial, that though dragg\u2019d along the earth,\nThe noble dead might not receive a wound.\nApollo too a cloudy veil from Heav\u2019n\nSpread o\u2019er the plain, and cover\u2019d all the space\nWhere lay the dead, nor let the blazing sun\nThe flesh upon his limbs and muscles parch.\nYet burnt not up Patroclus\u2019 fun\u2019ral pyre;\nThen a fresh thought Achilles\u2019 mind conceiv\u2019d:\nStanding apart, on both the Winds he call\u2019d,\nBoreas and Zephyrus, and added vows\nOf costly sacrifice; and pouring forth\nLibations from a golden goblet, pray\u2019d\nTheir presence, that the wood might haste to burn,\nAnd with the fire consume the dead; his pray\u2019r\nSwift Iris heard, and bore it to the Winds.\nThey in the hall of gusty Zephyrus\nWere gather\u2019d round the feast; in haste appearing,\nSwift Iris on the stony threshold stood.\nThey saw, and rising all, besought her each\nTo sit beside him; she with their requests\nRefus\u2019d compliance, and address\u2019d them thus:\n\n\u201cNo seat for me; for I o\u2019er th\u2019 ocean stream\nFrom hence am bound to \u00c6thiopia\u2019s shore,\nTo share the sacred feast, and hecatombs,\nWhich there they offer to th\u2019 immortal Gods;\nBut, Boreas, thee, and loud-voic\u2019d Zephyrus,\nWith vows of sacrifice, Achilles calls\nTo fan the fun\u2019ral pyre, whereon is laid\nPatroclus, mourn\u2019d by all the host of Greece.\u201d\n\nShe said, and vanish\u2019d; they, with rushing sound,\nRose, and before them drove the hurrying clouds:\nSoon o\u2019er the sea they swept; the stirring breeze\nRuffled the waves; the fertile shores of Troy\nThey reach\u2019d, and falling on the fun\u2019ral pyre,\nLoud roar\u2019d the crackling flames; they all night long\nWith current brisk together fann\u2019d the fire.\nAll night Achilles from a golden bowl\nDrew forth, and, in his hand a double cup,\nThe wine outpouring, moisten\u2019d all the earth,\nStill calling on his lost Patroclus\u2019 shade.\nAs mourns a father o\u2019er a youthful son,\nWhose early death hath wrung his parents\u2019 hearts;\nSo mourn\u2019d Achilles o\u2019er his friend\u2019s remains,\nProstrate beside the pyre, and groan\u2019d aloud.\nBut when the star of Lucifer appear\u2019d,\nThe harbinger of light, whom following close\nSpreads o\u2019er the sea the saffron-robed morn,\nThen pal\u2019d the smould\u2019ring fire, and sank the flame;\nAnd o\u2019er the Thracian sea, that groan\u2019d and heav\u2019d\nBeneath their passage, home the Winds return\u2019d;\nAnd weary, from the pyre a space withdrawn,\nAchilles lay, o\u2019ercome by gentle sleep.\n\nAnon, awaken\u2019d by the tramp and din\nOf crowds that follow\u2019d Atreus\u2019 royal son,\nHe sat upright, and thus address\u2019d his speech:\n\n\u201cThou son of Atreus, and ye chiefs of Greece,\nFar as the flames extended, quench we first\nWith ruddy wine the embers of the pyre;\nAnd of Menoetius\u2019 son, Patroclus, next\nWith care distinguishing, collect the bones;\nNor are they hard to know; for in the midst\nHe lay, while round the edges of the pyre,\nHorses and men commix\u2019d, the rest were burnt.\nLet these, between a double layer of fat\nEnclos\u2019d, and in a golden urn remain,\nTill I myself shall in the tomb be laid;\nAnd o\u2019er them build a mound, not over-large,\nBut of proportions meet; in days to come,\nYe Greeks, who after me shall here remain,\nComplete the work, and build it broad and high.\u201d\n\nThus spoke Achilles; they his words obey\u2019d:\nFar as the flames had reach\u2019d, and thickly strown\nThe embers lay, they quench\u2019d with ruddy wine;\nThen tearfully their gentle comrade\u2019s bones\nCollected, and with double layers of fat\nEnclos\u2019d, and in a golden urn encas\u2019d;\nThen in the tent they laid them, overspread\nWith veil of linen fair; then meting out\nTh\u2019 allotted space, the deep foundations laid\nAround the pyre, and o\u2019er them heap\u2019d the earth.\nTheir task accomplished, all had now withdrawn;\nBut Peleus\u2019 son the vast assembly stay\u2019d,\nAnd bade them sit; then, prizes of the games,\nTripods and caldrons from the tents he brought,\nAnd noble steeds, and mules, and sturdy steers,\nAnd women fair of form, and iron hoar.\n\nFirst, for the contest of the flying cars\nThe prizes he display\u2019d: a woman fair,\nWell skill\u2019d in household cares; a tripod vast,\nTwo-handled, two and twenty measures round;\nThese both were for the victor: for the next,\nA mare, unbroken, six years old, in foal\nOf a mule colt; the third, a caldron bright,\nCapacious of four measures, white and pure,\nBy fire as yet untarnish\u2019d; for the fourth,\nOf gold two talents; for the fifth, a vase\nWith double cup, untouch\u2019d by fire, he gave.\nThen, standing up, he thus address\u2019d the Greeks:\n\n\u201cThou son of Atreus, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nBefore ye are the prizes, which await\nThe contest of the cars; but if, ye Greeks,\nFor any other cause these games were held,\nI to my tent should bear the foremost prize;\nFor well ye know how far my steeds excel,\nSteeds of immortal race, which Neptune gave\nTo Peleus, he to me, his son, transferr\u2019d.\nBut from the present strife we stand aloof,\nMy horses and myself; they now have lost\nThe daring courage and the gentle hand\nOf him who drove them, and with water pure\nWash\u2019d oft their manes, and bath\u2019d with fragrant oil.\nFor him they stand and mourn, with drooping heads\nDown to the ground, their hearts with sorrow fill\u2019d;\nBut ye in order range yourselves, who boast\nYour well-built chariots and your horses\u2019 speed.\u201d\n\nHe said: up sprang the eager charioteers;\nThe first of all, Eumelus, King of men,\nSon of Admetus, matchless charioteer;\nNext, Tydeus\u2019 son, the valiant Diomed,\nWith Trojan horses, from \u00c6neas won,\nWhen by Apollo\u2019s aid himself escap\u2019d;\nThen Heav\u2019n-born Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son,\nTwo flying coursers harness\u2019d to his car;\nHis own, Podargus, had for yokefellow\n\u00c6the, a mare by Agamemnon lent:\nHer, Echepolus to Atrides gave,\nAnchises\u2019 son, that to the wars of Troy\nHe might not be compell\u2019d, but safe at home\nEnjoy his ease; for Jove had bless\u2019d his store\nWith ample wealth, in Sicyon\u2019s wide domain.\nHer now he yok\u2019d, impatient for the course.\nThe fourth, Antilochus, the gallant son\nOf Nestor, son of Neleus, mighty chief,\nHarness\u2019d his sleek-skinn\u2019d steeds; of Pylian race\nWere they who bore his car; to him, his sire\nSage counsel pour\u2019d in understanding ears:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, though young in years thou art,\nYet Jove and Neptune love thee, and have well\nInstructed thee in horsemanship; of me\nThou need\u2019st no counsel; skill\u2019d around the goal\nTo whirl the chariot; but thou hast, of all,\nThe slowest horses: whence I augur ill.\nBut though their horses have the speed of thine,\nIn skill not one of them surpasses thee.\nThen thou, dear boy, exert thine ev\u2019ry art,\nThat so thou mayst not fail to gain a prize.\nBy skill, far more than strength, the woodman fells\nThe sturdy oak; by skill the steersman guides\nHis flying ship across the dark-blue sea,\nThough shatter\u2019d by the blast; \u2019twixt charioteer\nAnd charioteer \u2019tis skill that draws the line.\nOne, vainly trusting to his coursers\u2019 speed,\nDrives reckless here and there; o\u2019er all the course,\nHis horses, unrestrain\u2019d, at random run.\nAnother, with inferior horses far,\nBut better skill\u2019d, still fixing on the goal\nHis eye, turns closely round, nor overlooks\nThe moment when to draw the rein; but holds\nHis steady course, and on the leader waits.\nA mark I give thee now, thou canst not miss:\nThere stands a wither\u2019d trunk, some six feet high,\nOf oak, or pine, unrotted by the rain;\nOn either side have two white stones been plac\u2019d,\nWhere meet two roads; and all around there lies\nA smooth and level course; here stood perchance\nThe tomb of one who died long years ago;\nOr former generations here have plac\u2019d,\nAs now Achilles hath decreed, a goal.\nThere drive, as only not to graze the post;\nAnd leaning o\u2019er the wicker body, leave\nClose on the left the stones; thine offside horse\nThen urge with voice and whip, and slack his rein,\nAnd let the nearside horse so closely graze,\nAs that thy nave may seem to touch, the goal:\nBut yet beware, lest, striking on the stone,\nThy steeds thou injure, and thy chariot break,\nA source of triumph to thy rivals all,\nOf shame to thee; but thou sage caution use;\nFor, following, if thou make the turn the first,\nNot one of all shall pass thee, or o\u2019ertake;\nNot though Arion\u2019s self were in the car,\nAdrastus\u2019 flying steed, of heav\u2019nly race,\nNor those which here Laomedon possess\u2019d.\u201d\n\nThis said, and to his son his counsels giv\u2019n,\nThe aged Nestor to his seat withdrew.\nFifth in the lists Meriones appear\u2019d.\nThey mounted on their cars, and cast their lots:\nAchilles shook the helmet; first leaped forth\nThe lot of Nestor\u2019s son, Antilochus;\nNext came the King Eumelus; after whom\nThe valiant Menelaus, Atreus\u2019 son;\nThe fourth, Meriones; and last of all,\nBut ablest far, Tydides drew his place.\nThey stood in line; Achilles pointed out,\nEar on the level plain, the distant goal;\nAnd there in charge the godlike Phoenix plac\u2019d,\nHis father\u2019s ancient follower, to observe\nThe course assign\u2019d, and true report to make.\nThen all at once their whips they rais\u2019d, and urg\u2019d\nBy rein, and hand, and voice, their eager steeds.\nThey from the ships pursued their rapid course\nAthwart the distant plain; beneath their chests\nRose like a cloud, or hurricane, the dust;\nLoose floated on the breeze their ample manes;\nThe cars now skimm\u2019d along the fertile ground,\nNow bounded high in air; the charioteers\nStood up aloft, and ev\u2019ry bosom beat\nWith hope of vict\u2019ry; each with eager shout\nCheering his steeds, that scour\u2019d the dusty plain.\nBut when, the farthest limits of the course\nAttain\u2019d, they turn\u2019d beside the hoary sea,\nStrain\u2019d to their utmost speed, were plainly seen\nThe qualities of each; then in the front\nAppear\u2019d Eumelus\u2019 flying mares, and next\nThe Trojan horses of Tydides came:\nNor these were far behind, but following close\nThey seem\u2019d in act to leap upon the car.\nEumelus, on his neck and shoulders broad,\nFelt their warm breath; for o\u2019er him, as they flew,\nTheir heads were downward bent; and now, perchance,\nHad he or pass\u2019d, or made an even race,\nBut that, incens\u2019d with valiant Diomed,\nApollo wrested from his hands the whip.\nThen tears of anger from his eyelids fell,\nAs gaining more and more the mares he saw,\nWhile, urg\u2019d no more, his horses slack\u2019d their speed.\nBut Pallas mark\u2019d Apollo\u2019s treach\u2019rous wile;\nAnd hasting to the chief, restor\u2019d his whip,\nAnd to his horses strength and courage gave.\nThe Goddess then Admetus\u2019 son pursued,\nAnd snapp\u2019d his chariot yoke; the mares, releas\u2019d,\nSwerv\u2019d from the track; the pole upon the ground\nLay loosen\u2019d from the car; and he himself\nBeside the wheel was from the chariot hurl\u2019d.\nFrom elbows, mouth, and nose, the skin was torn;\nHis forehead crush\u2019d and batter\u2019d in; his eyes\nWere fill\u2019d with tears, and mute his cheerful voice.\nTydides turn\u2019d aside, and far ahead\nOf all the rest, pass\u2019d on; for Pallas gave\nHis horses courage, and his triumph will\u2019d.\nNext him, the fair-hair\u2019d Menelaus came,\nThe son of Atreus; but Antilochus\nThus to his father\u2019s horses call\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cForward, and stretch ye to your utmost speed;\nI ask you not with those of Diomed\nIn vain to strive, whom Pallas hath endued\nWith added swiftness, and his triumph will\u2019d;\nBut haste ye, and o\u2019ertake Atrides\u2019 car,\nNor be by \u00c6the, by a mare, disgrac\u2019d.\nWhy, my brave horses, why be left behind?\nThis too I warn ye, and will make it good:\nNo more at Nestor\u2019s hand shall ye receive\nYour provender, but with the sword be slain,\nIf by your faults a lower prize be ours;\nThen rouse ye now, and put forth all your speed,\nAnd I will so contrive, as not to fail\nOf slipping past them in the narrow way.\u201d\n\nHe said; the horses, of his voice in awe,\nPut forth their pow\u2019rs awhile; before them soon\nAntilochus the narrow pass espied.\nIt was a gully, where the winter\u2019s rain\nHad lain collected, and had broken through\nA length of road, and hollow\u2019d out the ground:\nThere Menelaus held his cautious course.\nFearing collision; but Antilochus,\nDrawing his steeds a little from the track,\nBore down upon him sideways: then in fear,\nThe son of Atreus to Antilochus\nShouted aloud, \u201cAntilochus, thou driv\u2019st\nLike one insane; hold in awhile thy steeds;\nHere is no space; where wider grows the road,\nThere thou mayst pass; but here, thou wilt but cause\nOur cars to clash, and bring us both to harm.\u201d\n\nHe said; but madlier drove Antilochus,\nPlying the goad, as though he heard him not.\n\nFar as a discus\u2019 flight, by some stout youth,\nThat tests his vigour, from the shoulder hurl\u2019d,\nSo far they ran together, side by side:\nThen dropp\u2019d Atrides\u2019 horses to the rear,\nFor he himself forbore to urge their speed,\nLest, meeting in the narrow pass, the cars\nShould be o\u2019erthrown, and they themselves, in haste\nTo gain the vict\u2019ry, in the dust be roll\u2019d.\nThen thus, reproachful, to Antilochus:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, thou most perverse of men!\nBeshrew thy heart! we Greeks are much deceiv\u2019d\nWho give thee fame for wisdom! yet e\u2019en now\nThou shalt not gain, but on thine oath, the prize.\u201d\n\nHe said, and to his horses call\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cSlack not your speed, nor, as defeated, mourn;\nTheir legs and feet will sooner tire than yours,\nFor both are past the vigour of their youth.\u201d\nThus he; the horses, of his voice in awe,\nPut forth their pow\u2019rs, and soon the leaders near\u2019d.\n\nMeanwhile the chieftains, seated in the ring,\nLook\u2019d for the cars, that scour\u2019d the dusty plain.\nThe first to see them was Idomeneus,\nThe Cretan King; for he, without the ring,\nWas posted high aloft; and from afar\nHe heard and knew the foremost horseman\u2019s voice;\nWell too he knew the gallant horse that led,\nAll bay the rest, but on his front alone\nA star of white, full-orbed as the moon:\nThen up he rose, and thus the Greeks address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cO friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nCan ye too see, or I alone, the cars?\nA diff\u2019rent chariot seems to me in front,\nA diff\u2019rent charioteer; and they who first\nWere leading, must have met with some mischance.\nI saw them late, ere round the goal they turn\u2019d,\nBut see them now no more; though all around\nMy eyes explore the wide-spread plain of Troy.\nPerchance the charioteer has dropp\u2019d the reins,\nOr round the goal he could not hold the mares;\nPerchance has miss\u2019d the turn, and on the plain\nIs lying now beside his broken car,\nWhile from the course his mettled steeds have flown.\nStand up, and look yourselves; I cannot well\nDistinguish; but to me it seems a chief,\nWho reigns o\u2019er Greeks, though of \u00c6tolian race,\nThe son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed.\u201d\n\nSharply Oileus\u2019 active son replied:\n\u201cIdomeneus, why thus, before the time,\nSo rashly speak? while the high-stepping steeds\nAre speeding yet across the distant plain.\nThine eyes are not the youngest in the camp,\nNor look they out the sharpest from thy head;\nBut thou art ever hasty in thy speech,\nAnd ill becomes thee this precipitance.\nSince others are there here, thy betters far.\nThe same are leading now, that led at first,\nEumelus\u2019 mares; \u2019tis he that holds the reins.\u201d\n\nTo whom in anger thus the Cretan chief:\n\u201cAjax, at wrangling good, in judgment naught,\nAnd for aught else, among the chiefs of Greece\nOf small account\u2014so stubborn is thy soul;\nWilt thou a tripod or a caldron stake,\nAnd Agamemnon, Atreus\u2019 son, appoint\nThe umpire to decide whose steeds are first?\nSo shalt thou gain thy knowledge at thy cost.\u201d\n\nHe said; up sprang Oileus\u2019 active son,\nIn anger to reply; and farther yet\nHad gone the quarrel, but Achilles\u2019 self\nStood up, and thus the rival chiefs address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cForbear, both Ajax and Idomeneus,\nThis bitter interchange of wordy war;\nIt is not seemly; and yourselves, I know,\nAnother would condemn, who so should speak.\nBut stay ye here, and seated in the ring,\nTheir coming wait; they, hurrying to the goal,\nWill soon be here; and then shall each man know\nWhose horses are the second, whose the first.\u201d\n\nThus he; but Tydeus\u2019 son drew near, his lash\nStill laid upon his horses\u2019 shoulder-points;\nAs lightly they, high-stepping, scour\u2019d the plain.\nStill on the charioteer the dust was flung;\nAs close upon the flying-footed steeds\nFollow\u2019d the car with gold and tin inlaid;\nAnd lightly, as they flew along, were left\nImpress\u2019d the wheel-tracks on the sandy plain.\nThere in the midst he stood, the sweat profuse\nDown-pouring from his horses\u2019 heads and chests;\nDown from the glitt\u2019ring car he leap\u2019d to earth,\nAnd lean\u2019d his whip against the chariot yoke;\nNor long delay\u2019d the valiant Sthenelus,\nBut eagerly sprang forth to claim the prize;\nThen to his brave companions gave in charge\nTo lead away the woman, and to bear\nThe tripod, while himself unyok\u2019d the steeds.\n\nNest came the horses of Antilochus,\nWho had by stratagem, and not by speed,\nO\u2019er Menelaus triumph\u2019d; yet e\u2019en so\nAtrides\u2019 flying coursers press\u2019d him hard;\nFor but so far as from the chariot-wheel\nA horse, when harness\u2019d to a royal car;\nWhose tail, back-streaming, with the utmost hairs\nBrushes the felloes; close before the wheel,\nSmall space between, he scours the wide-spread plain:\nSo far was Menelaus in the rear\nOf Nestor\u2019s son; at first, a discus\u2019 cast\nBetween them lay; but rapidly his ground\nHe gain\u2019d\u2014so well the speed and courage serv\u2019d\nOf \u00c6the, Agamemnon\u2019s beauteous mare;\nAnd, but a little farther were the course,\nHad pass\u2019d him by, nor left the race in doubt.\nBehind the noble son of Atreus came,\nA jav\u2019lin\u2019s flight apart, Meriones,\nThe faithful follower of Idomeneus:\nHis were the slowest horses, and himself\nThe least experienc\u2019d in the rapid race.\nDragging his broken car, came last of all,\nHis horses driv\u2019n in front, Admetus\u2019 son;\nAchilles swift of foot with pity saw,\nAnd to the Greeks his winged words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cSee where the best of all the last appears;\nBut let him take, as meet, the second prize;\nThe first belongs of right to Tydeus\u2019 son.\u201d\n\nThus he; they all assented to his words;\nAnd, by the gen\u2019ral voice of Greece, the mare\nHad now been his; but noble Nestor\u2019s son,\nAntilochus, stood up, his right to claim,\nAnd to Achilles, Peleus\u2019 son, replied:\n\u201cAchilles, thou wilt do me grievous wrong,\nIf thou thy words accomplish; for my prize\nThou tak\u2019st away, because mishap befell\nHis car and horses, by no fault of his;\nYet had he to th\u2019 Immortals made his pray\u2019r,\nHe surely had not thus been last of all.\nBut, pitying him, if so thy mind incline,\nThy tents contain good store of gold, and brass,\nAnd sheep, and female slaves, and noble steeds;\nFor him, of these, hereafter mayst thou take\nA prize of higher value; or e\u2019en now,\nAnd with th\u2019 applause of all; but for the mare,\nI will not give her up; and let who will\nStand forth, my own right hand shall guard my prize.\u201d\n\nHe said; and smil\u2019d Achilles swift of foot,\nDelighted; for he lov\u2019d the noble youth,\nTo whom his winged words he thus address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, if such be thy request,\nThat for Eumelus I should add a prize,\nThis too I grant thee; and to him I give\nMy breastplate, from Asteropaeus won,\nOf brass, around whose edge is roll\u2019d a stream\nOf shining tin; a gift of goodly price.\u201d\n\nHe said, and bade Automedon, his friend\nAnd comrade, bring the breastplate from his tent;\nHe went, and brought it; in Eumelus\u2019 hand\nHe plac\u2019d it; he with joy the gift receiv\u2019d.\nThen Menelaus, sad at heart, arose,\nBurning with wrath against Antilochus;\nAnd while the herald in the monarch\u2019s hand\nHis royal sceptre plac\u2019d, and bade the Greeks\nKeep silence, thus the godlike hero spoke:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, till now reputed wise,\nWhat hast thou done? thou hast impugn\u2019d my skill,\nAnd sham\u2019d my horses, who hast brought thine own,\nInferior far, before them to the goal.\nBut come, ye chiefs and councillors of Greece,\nJudge ye between us, fav\u2019ring neither side:\nThat none of all the brass-clad Greeks may say\nThat Menelaus hath by false reports\nO\u2019erborne Antilochus, and holds his prize:\nHis horses fairly worsted, and himself\nTriumphant only by superior pow\u2019r.\nOr come now, I myself will judgment give;\nNor deem I any Greek will find to blame\nIn my decision, for \u2019tis fair and just.\nAntilochus, come forward, noble chief;\nAnd standing, as \u2019tis meet, before the car\nAnd horses, in thy hand the slender whip\nWherewith thou drov\u2019st, upon the horses lay\nThy hand, and by Earth-shaking Neptune swear\nThat not of malice, and by set design,\nThou didst by fraud impede my chariot\u2019s course.\u201d\n\nTo whom Antilochus with prudent speech:\n\u201cHave patience with me yet; for I, O King,\nO Menelaus, am thy junior far;\nMy elder and superior thee I own.\nThou know\u2019st th\u2019 o\u2019er-eager vehemence of youth,\nHow quick in temper, and in judgment weak.\nSet then thy heart at ease; the mare I won\nI freely give; and if aught else of mine\nThou shouldst desire, would sooner give it all,\nThan all my life be low\u2019r\u2019d, illustrious King,\nIn thine esteem, and sin against the Gods.\u201d\n\nThus saying, noble Nestor\u2019s son led forth,\nAnd plac\u2019d in Menelaus\u2019 hands the mare:\nThe monarch\u2019s soul was melted, like the dew\nWhich glitters on the ears of growing corn,\nThat bristle o\u2019er the plain; e\u2019en so thy soul,\nO Menelaus, melted at his speech;\nTo whom were thus address\u2019d thy winged words:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, at once I lay aside\nMy anger; thou art prudent, and not apt\nTo be thus led astray; but now thy youth\nThy judgment hath o\u2019erpow\u2019r\u2019d; seek not henceforth\nBy trick\u2019ry o\u2019er thine elders to prevail.\nTo any other man of all the Greeks\nI scarce so much had yielded; but for that\nThyself hast labour\u2019d much, and much endur\u2019d,\nThou, thy good sire, and brother, in my cause:\nI yield me to thy pray\u2019rs; and give, to boot,\nThe mare, though mine of right; that these may know\nI am not of a harsh, unyielding mood.\u201d\n\nHe said, and to Noemon gave in charge,\nThe faithful comrade of Antilochus,\nThe mare; himself the glitt\u2019ring caldron took.\nOf gold two talents, to the fourth assign\u2019d,\nFourth in the race, Meriones receiv\u2019d;\nStill the fifth prize, a vase with double cup,\nRemain\u2019d; Achilles this to Nestor gave,\nBefore th\u2019 assembled Greeks, as thus he spoke:\n\n\u201cTake this, old man, and for an heirloom keep,\nIn mem\u2019ry of Patroclus\u2019 fun\u2019ral games,\nWhom thou no more amid the Greeks shalt see.\nFreely I give it thee; for thou no more\nCanst box, or wrestle, or in sportive strife\nThe jav\u2019lin throw, or race with flying feet;\nFor age with heavy hand hath bow\u2019d thee down.\u201d\n\nHe said, and plac\u2019d it in his hand; th\u2019 old man\nBeceiv\u2019d with joy the gift, and thus replied:\n\n\u201cAll thou hast said, my son, is simple truth:\nNo firmness now my limbs and feet retain,\nNor can my arms with freedom, as of old,\nStraight from the shoulder, right and left, strike out.\nOh that such youth and vigour yet were mine,\nAs when th\u2019 Epeians in Buprasium held\nThe royal Amarynceus\u2019 fun\u2019ral games,\nAnd when the monarch\u2019s sons his prizes gave!\nThen could not one of all th\u2019 Epeian race,\nOr Pylians, or \u00c6tolians, vie with me.\nIn boxing, Clytomedes, \u0152nops\u2019 son,\nI vanquished; then Anchaeus, who stood up\nTo wrestle with me, I with ease o\u2019erthrew;\nIphiclus I outran, though fleet of foot;\nIn hurling with the spear, with Phyleus strove,\nAnd Polydorus, and surpass\u2019d them both.\nThe sons of Actor in the chariot-race\nAlone o\u2019ercame me; as in number more,[8]\nAnd grudging more my triumph, since remain\u2019d,\nThis contest to reward, the richest prize.\nThey were twin brothers; one who held the reins,\nStill drove, and drove; the other plied the whip.\nSuch was I once; but now must younger men\nEngage in deeds like these; and I, the chief\nOf heroes once, must bow to weary age.\nBut honour thou with fitting fun\u2019ral games\nThy comrade: I accept, well-pleas\u2019d, thy gift,\nMy heart rejoicing that thou still retain\u2019st\nOf me a kindly mem\u2019ry, nor o\u2019erlook\u2019st\nThe place of honour, which among the Greeks\nBelongs to me of right; for this, the Gods\nReward thee with a worthy recompense!\u201d\n\nHe said; Achilles listen\u2019d to the praise\nOf Neleus\u2019 son; then join\u2019d the gen\u2019ral throng.\nNext, he set forth the prizes, to reward\nThe labours of the sturdy pugilists;\nA hardy mule he tether\u2019d in the ring,\nUnbroken, six years old, most hard to tame;\nAnd for the vanquished man, a double cup;\nThen rose, and to the Greeks proclaim\u2019d aloud:\n\n\u201cThou son of Atreus, and ye well-greav\u2019d Greeks,\nFor these we bid two champions brave stand forth.\nAnd in the boxer\u2019s manly toil contend;\nAnd he, whose stern endurance Phoebus crowns\nWith vict\u2019ry, recogniz\u2019d by all the Greeks,\nHe to his tent shall lead the hardy mule;\nThe loser shall the double cup receive.\u201d\n\nHe said; up sprang Epeius, tall and stout,\nA boxer skill\u2019d, the son of Panopeus,\nWho laid his hand upon the mule, and said:\n\n\u201cStand forth, if any care the cup to win;\nThe mule, methinks, no Greek can bear away\nFrom me, who glory in the champion\u2019s name.\nIs\u2019t not enough, that in the battle-field\nI claim no special praise? \u2019tis not for man\nIn all things to excel; but this I say,\nAnd will make good my words, who meets me here,\nI mean to pound his flesh, and smash his bones.\nSee that his seconds be at hand, and prompt\nTo bear him from the ring, by me subdued.\u201d\n\nHe said; they all in silence heard his speech:\nOnly Euryalus, a godlike chief,\nSon of Mecistheus, Talaion\u2019s son,\nStood forth opposing; he had once in Thebes\nJoin\u2019d in the fun\u2019ral games of \u0152dipus,\nAnd there had vanquish\u2019d all of Cadmian race.\nOn him attended valiant Diomed,\nWith cheering words, and wishes of success.\nAround his waist he fasten\u2019d first the belt,\nThen gave the well-cut gauntlets for his hands.\nOf wild bull\u2019s hide. When both were thus equipp\u2019d,\nInto the centre of the ring they stepp\u2019d:\nThere, face to face, with sinewy arms uprais\u2019d,\nThey stood awhile, then clos\u2019d; strong hand with hand\nMingling, in rapid interchange of blows.\nDire was the clatter of their jaws; the sweat\nPour\u2019d forth, profuse, from ev\u2019ry limb; then rush\u2019d\nEpeius on, and full upon the cheek,\nHalf turn\u2019d aside, let fall a stagg\u2019ring blow;\nNor stood Euryalus; but, legs and feet\nKnock\u2019d from beneath him, prone to earth he fell;\nAnd as a fish, that flounders on the sand,\nThrown by rude Boreas on the weedy beach,\nTill cover\u2019d o\u2019er by the returning wave;\nSo flounder\u2019d he beneath that stunning blow.\nBut brave Epeius took him by the hand,\nAnd rais\u2019d him up; his comrades crowded round\nAnd bore him from the field, with dragging steps,\nSpitting forth clotted gore, his heavy head\nRolling from side to side; within his tent\nThey laid him down, unconscious; to the ring\nThen back returning, bore away the cup.\n\nAchilles next before the Greeks display\u2019d\nThe prizes of the hardy wrestlers\u2019 skill:\nThe victor\u2019s prize, a tripod vast, fire-proof,\nAnd at twelve oxen by the Greeks apprais\u2019d;\nAnd for the vanquish\u2019d man, a female slave\nPric\u2019d at four oxen, skill\u2019d in household work.\nThen rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim\u2019d,\n\u201cStand forth, whoe\u2019er this contest will essay.\u201d\n\nHe said; and straight uprose the giant form\nOf Ajax Telamon; with him uprose\nUlysses, skill\u2019d in ev\u2019ry crafty wile.\nGirt with the belt, within the ring they stood,\nAnd each, with stalwart grasp, laid hold on each;\nAs stand two rafters of a lofty house,\nEach propping each, by skilful architect\nDesign\u2019d the tempest\u2019s fury to withstand.\nCreak\u2019d their backbones beneath the tug and strain\nOf those strong arms; their sweat pour\u2019d down like rain;\nAnd bloody weals of livid purple hue\nTheir sides and shoulders streak\u2019d, as sternly they\nFor vict\u2019ry and the well-wrought tripod strove.\nNor could Ulysses Ajax overthrow,\nNor Ajax bring Ulysses to the ground,\nSo stubbornly he stood; but when the Greeks\nWere weary of the long-protracted strife,\nThus to Ulysses mighty Ajax spoke:\n\u201cUlysses sage, Laertes\u2019 godlike son,\nOr lift thou me, or I will thee uplift:\nThe issue of our struggle rests with Jove.\u201d\n\nHe said, and rais\u2019d Ulysses from the ground;\nNor he his ancient craft remember\u2019d not,\nBut lock\u2019d his leg around, and striking sharp\nUpon the hollow of the knee, the joint\nGave way; the giant Ajax backwards fell,\nUlysses on his breast; the people saw,\nAnd marvell\u2019d. Then in turn Ulysses strove\nAjax to lift; a little way he mov\u2019d,\nBut fail\u2019d to lift him fairly from, the ground;\nYet crook\u2019d his knee, that both together fell,\nAnd side by side, defil\u2019d with dust, they lay.\n\nAnd now a third encounter had they tried\nBut rose Achilles, and the combat stay\u2019d:\n\n\u201cForbear, nor waste your strength, in farther strife;\nYe both are victors; both then bear away\nAn equal meed of honour; and withdraw,\nThat other Greeks may other contests wage.\u201d\nThus spoke Achilles: they his words obey\u2019d,\nAnd brushing off the dust, their garments donn\u2019d.\n\nThe prizes of the runners, swift of foot,\nAchilles next set forth; a silver bowl,\nSix measures its content, for workmanship\nUnmatch\u2019d on earth, of Sidon\u2019s costliest art\nThe product rare; thence o\u2019er the misty sea\nBrought by Phoenicians, who, in port arriv\u2019d,\nGave it to Thoas; by Euneus last,\nThe son of Jason, to Patroclus paid,\nIn ransom of Lycaon, Priam\u2019s son;\nWhich now Achilles, on his friend\u2019s behalf,\nAssign\u2019d as his reward, whoe\u2019er should prove\nThe lightest foot, and speediest in the race.\nA steer, well fatten\u2019d, was the second prize,\nAnd half a talent, for the third, of gold.\nHe rose, and to the Greeks proclaim\u2019d aloud,\n\u201cStand forth, whoe\u2019er this contest will essay.\u201d\nHe said: uprose Oileus\u2019 active son;\nUprose Ulysses, skill\u2019d in ev\u2019ry wile,\nAnd noble Nestor\u2019s son, Antilochus,\nWho all the youth in speed of foot surpass\u2019d.\nThey stood in line: Achilles pointed out\nThe limits of the course; as from the goal\nThey stretch\u2019d them to the race, Oileus\u2019 son\nFirst shot ahead; Ulysses following close;\nNor farther than the shuttle from the breast\nOf some fair woman, when her outstretch\u2019d arm\nHas thrown the woof athwart the warp, and back\nWithdraws it tow\u2019rd her breast; so close behind\nUlysses press\u2019d on Ajax, and his feet\nTrod in his steps, ere settled yet the dust.\nHis breath was on his shoulders, as the plain\nHe lightly skimm\u2019d; the Greeks with eager shouts\nStill cheering, as he strain\u2019d to win the prize.\nBut as they near\u2019d the goal, Ulysses thus\nTo blue-ey\u2019d Pallas made his mental pray\u2019r:\n\u201cNow hear me, Goddess, and my feet befriend.\u201d\nThus as he pray\u2019d, his pray\u2019r the Goddess heard,\nAnd all his limbs with active vigour fill\u2019d;\nAnd, as they stretch\u2019d their hands to seize the prize,\nTripp\u2019d up by Pallas, Ajax slipp\u2019d and fell,\nAmid the offal of the lowing kine\nWhich o\u2019er Patroclus Peleus\u2019 son had slain.\nHis mouth and nostrils were with offal fill\u2019d.\nFirst in the race, Ulysses bore away\nThe silver bowl; the steer to Ajax fell;\nAnd as upon the horn he laid his hand,\nSputt\u2019ring the offal out, he call\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cLo, how the Goddess has my steps bewray\u2019d,\nWho guards Ulysses with a mother\u2019s care.\u201d\nThus as he spoke, loud laugh\u2019d the merry Greeks.\nAntilochus the sole remaining prize\nReceiv\u2019d, and, laughing, thus the Greeks address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cI tell you, friends, but what yourselves do know,\nHow of the elder men th\u2019 immortal Gods\nTake special care; for Ajax\u2019 years not much\nExceed mine own; but here we see a man,\nOne of a former age, and race of men;\nA hale old man we call him; but for speed\nNot one can match him, save Achilles\u2019 self.\u201d\n\nThus he, with praise implied of Peleus\u2019 son;\nTo whom in answer thus Achilles spoke:\n\n\u201cAntilochus, not unobserv\u2019d of me\nNor unrewarded shall thy praise remain:\nTo thy half talent add this second half.\u201d\n\nThus saying, in his hand he plac\u2019d the gold;\nAntilochus with joy the gift receiv\u2019d.\n\nNext, in the ring the son of Peleus laid\nA pond\u2019rous spear, a helmet, and a shield,\nThe spoil Patroclus from Sarpedon won;\nThen rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim\u2019d:\n\n\u201cFor these we call upon two champions brave\nTo don their arms, their sharp-edg\u2019d weapons grasp,\nAnd public trial of their prowess make;\nAnd he who first his rival\u2019s flesh shall reach,\nAnd, through his armour piercing, first draw blood,\nHe shall this silver-studded sword receive,\nMy trophy from Asteropaeus won,\nWell-wrought, of Thracian metal; but the arms\nIn common property they both shall hold,\nAnd in my tent a noble banquet share.\u201d\n\nHe said; uprose great Ajax Telamon,\nAnd Tydeus\u2019 son, the valiant Diomed.\nFirst, from the crowd apart, they donn\u2019d their arms;\nThen, eager for the fight, with haughty stare\nStood in the midst; the Greeks admiring gaz\u2019d.\nWhen, each approaching other, near they came,\nThrice rush\u2019d they on, and thrice in combat clos\u2019d.\nThen through the buckler round of Diomed\nGreat Ajax drove his spear; nor reach\u2019d the point\nTydides\u2019 body, by the breastplate stay\u2019d:\nWhile, aim\u2019d above the mighty shield\u2019s defence,\nHis glitt\u2019ring weapon flash\u2019d at Ajax\u2019 throat.\nFor Ajax fearing, shouted then the Greeks\nTo cease the fight, and share alike the prize;\nBut from Achilles\u2019 hand the mighty sword,\nWith belt and scabbard, Diomed receiv\u2019d.\n\nNext in the ring the son of Peleus plac\u2019d\nA pond\u2019rous mass of iron, as a quoit\nOnce wielded by Eetion\u2019s giant strength,\nBut to the ships with other trophies borne,\nWhen by Achilles\u2019 hand Eetion fell.\nThen rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim\u2019d:\n\u201cStand forth, whoe\u2019er this contest will essay.\nThis prize who wins, though widely may extend\nHis fertile fields, for five revolving years\nIt will his wants supply; nor to the town\nFor lack of iron, with this mass in store,\nNeed he his shepherd or his ploughman send.\u201d\n\nHe said; and valiant Polypoetes rose,\nEpeius, and Leonteus\u2019 godlike strength,\nAnd mighty Ajax, son of Telamon.\nIn turns they took their stand; Epeius first\nUprais\u2019d the pond\u2019rous mass, and through the air\nHurl\u2019d it, amid the laughter of the Greeks.\nNext came Leonteus, scion true of Mars;\nThe third was Ajax; from whose stalwart hand\nBeyond the farthest mark the missile flew.\nBut when the valiant Polypoetes took\nThe quoit in hand, far as a herdsman throws\nHis staff, that, whirling, flies among the herd;\nSo far beyond the ring\u2019s extremest bound\nHe threw the pond\u2019rous mass; loud were the shouts;\nAnd noble Polypoetes\u2019 comrades rose,\nAnd to the ships the monarch\u2019s gift convey\u2019d.\n\nThe archers\u2019 prizes next, of iron hoar,\nTen sturdy axes, double-edg\u2019d, he plac\u2019d,\nAnd single hatchets ten; then far away\nRear\u2019d on the sand a dark-prow\u2019d vessel\u2019s mast,\nOn which, with slender string, a tim\u2019rous dove\nWas fasten\u2019d by the foot, the archers\u2019 mark;\nThat who should strike the dove should to his tent\nThe axes bear away; but who the string\nShould sever, but should fail to strike the bird,\nAs less in skill, the hatchets should receive.\nThus spoke Achilles; straight uprose the might\nOf royal Teucer, and Meriones,\nThe faithful follower of Idomeneus.\nThey in a brass-bound helmet shook the lots.\nThe first was Teucer\u2019s; with impetuous force\nHe shot; but vow\u2019d not to the Archer-King\nOf firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb.\nThe dove he struck not, for the Archer-God\nWithheld his aid; but close beside her foot\nThe arrow sever\u2019d the retaining string.\nThe bird releas\u2019d, soar\u2019d heav\u2019nward; while the string\nDropp\u2019d, from the mast suspended, tow\u2019rds the earth,\nAnd loudly shouted their applause the Greeks.\nThen snatch\u2019d Meriones in haste the bow\nFrom Teucer\u2019s hand; his own already held\nHis arrow, pointed straight; he drew the string,\nAnd to the far-destroying King he vow\u2019d\nOf firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb.\nAloft amid the clouds he mark\u2019d the dove,\nAnd struck her, as she soar\u2019d, beneath the wing;\nRight through the arrow pass\u2019d; and to the earth\nReturning, fell beside Meriones.\nThe bird upon the dark-prow\u2019d vessel\u2019s mast\nLighted awhile; anon, with drooping head,\nAnd pinions flutt\u2019ring vain, afar she fell,\nLifeless; th\u2019 admiring crowd with wonder gaz\u2019d.\nMeriones the axes bore away,\nWhile Teucer to the ships the hatchets bore.\n\nLast, in the ring the son of Peleus laid\nA pond\u2019rous spear, and caldron, burnish\u2019d bright,\nPric\u2019d at an ox\u2019s worth, untouch\u2019d by fire,\nFor those who with the jav\u2019lin would contend.\nUprose then Agamemnon, King of men,\nThe son of Atreus, and Meriones,\nThe faithful follower of Idomeneus:\nBut Peleus\u2019 godlike son address\u2019d them thus:\n\n\u201cHow far, Atrides, thou excell\u2019st us all,\nAnd with the jav\u2019lin what thy pow\u2019r and skill\nPre-eminent, we know; take thou this prize,\nAnd bear it to thy ships; and let us give\nTo brave Meriones the brazen spear;\nIf so it please thee, such were my advice.\u201d\n\nHe said; and Agamemnon, King of men,\nAssenting, gave to brave Meriones\nThe brazen spear; while in Talthybius\u2019 care,\nHis herald, plac\u2019d the King his noble prize.\n\n\n\nARGUMENT.\n\nTHE REDEMPTION OF THE BODY OF HECTOR.\n\n\nThe gods deliberate about the redemption of Hector\u2019s body. Jupiter\nsends Thetis to Achilles to dispose him for the restoring it, and Iris\nto Priam, to encourage him to go in person, and treat for it. The old\nking, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his queen, makes ready for\nthe journey, to which he is encouraged by an omen from Jupiter. He sets\nforth in his chariot, with a waggon loaded with presents, under the\ncharge of Idaeus the herald. Mercury descends in the shape of a young\nman, and conducts him to the pavilion of Achilles. Their conversation\non the way. Priam finds Achilles at his table, casts himself at his\nfeet, and begs for the body of his son; Achilles, moved with\ncompassion, grants his request, detains him one night in his tent, and\nthe next morning sends him home with the body; the Trojans run out to\nmeet him. The lamentation of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen, with the\nsolemnities of the funeral.\n\nThe time of twelve days is employed in this book, while the body of\nHector lies in the tent of Achilles. And as many more are spent in the\ntruce allowed for his interment. The scene is partly in Achilles\u2019 camp,\nand partly in Troy.\n\nBOOK XXIV.\n\nThe games were ended, and the multitude\nAmid the ships their sev\u2019ral ways dispers\u2019d:\nSome to their supper, some to gentle sleep\nYielding, delighted; but Achilles still\nMourn\u2019d o\u2019er his lov\u2019d companion; not on him\nLighted all-conqu\u2019ring sleep, but to and fro\nRestless he toss\u2019d, and on Patroclus thought,\nHis vigour and his courage; all the deeds\nThey two together had achiev\u2019d; the toils,\nThe perils they had undergone, amid\nThe strife of warriors, and the angry waves.\nStirr\u2019d by such mem\u2019ries, bitter tears he shed;\nNow turning on his side, and now again\nUpon his back; then prone upon his face;\nThen starting to his feet, along the shore\nAll objectless, despairing, would he roam;\nNor did the morn, above the sea appearing,\nUnmark\u2019d of him arise; his flying steeds\nHe then would harness, and, behind the car\nThe corpse of Hector trailing in the dust,\nThrice make the circuit of Patroclus\u2019 tomb;\nThen would he turn within his tent to rest,\nLeaving the prostrate corpse with dust defil\u2019d;\nBut from unseemly marks the valiant dead\nApollo guarded, who with pity view\u2019d\nThe hero, though in death; and round him threw\nHis golden aegis; nor, though dragg\u2019d along,\nAllow\u2019d his body to receive a wound.\n\nThus foully did Achilles in his rage\nMisuse the mighty dead; the blessed Gods\nWith pitying grief beheld the sight, and urg\u2019d\nThat Hermes should by stealth the corpse remove.\nThe counsel pleas\u2019d the rest; but Juno still,\nAnd Neptune, and the blue-ey\u2019d Maid, retain\u2019d\nThe hatred, unappeas\u2019d, with which of old\nTroy and her King and people they pursued;\nSince Paris to the rival Goddesses,\nWho to his sheepfold came, gave deep offence,\nPreferring her who brought him in return\nThe fatal boon of too successful love.\nBut when the twelfth revolving day was come,\nApollo thus th\u2019 assembled Gods address\u2019d:\n\u201cShame on ye, Gods, ungrateful! have ye not,\nAt Hector\u2019s hand, of bulls and choicest goats\nReceiv\u2019d your off\u2019rings meet? and fear ye now\nE\u2019en his dead corpse to save, and grant his wife,\nHis mother, and his child, his aged sire\nAnd people, to behold him, and to raise\nHis fun\u2019ral pile, and with due rites entomb?\nBut fell Achilles all your aid commands;\nOf mind unrighteous, and inflexible\nHis stubborn heart; his thoughts are all of blood;\nE\u2019en as a lion, whom his mighty strength\nAnd dauntless courage lead to leap the fold,\nAnd \u2019mid the trembling flocks to seize his prey;\nE\u2019en so Achilles hath discarded ruth,\nAnd conscience, arbiter of good and ill.\nA man may lose his best-lov\u2019d friend, a son,\nOr his own mother\u2019s son, a brother dear:\nHe mourns and weeps, but time his grief allays,\nFor fate to man a patient mind hath giv\u2019n:\nBut godlike Hector\u2019s body, after death,\nAchilles, unrelenting, foully drags,\nLash\u2019d to his car, around his comrade\u2019s tomb.\nThis is not to his praise; though brave he be,\nYet thus our anger he may justly rouse,\nWho in his rage insults the senseless clay.\u201d\n\nTo whom, indignant, white-arm\u2019d Juno thus:\n\u201cSome show of reason were there in thy speech,\nGod of the silver bow, could Hector boast\nOf equal dignity with Peleus\u2019 son.\nA mortal one, and nurs\u2019d at woman\u2019s breast;\nThe other, of a Goddess born, whom I\nNurtur\u2019d and rear\u2019d, and to a mortal gave\nIn marriage; gave to Peleus, best belov\u2019d\nBy all th\u2019 Immortals, of the race of man.\nYe, Gods, attended all the marriage rites;\nThou too, companion base, false friend, wast there,\nAnd, playing on thy lyre, didst share the feast.\u201d\n\nTo whom the Cloud-compeller answer\u2019d thus:\n\u201cJuno, restrain thy wrath; they shall not both\nAttain like honour; yet was Hector once,\nOf all the mortals that in Ilium dwell,\nDearest to all the Gods, and chief to me;\nFor never did he fail his gifts to bring.\nAnd with, burnt-off\u2019rings and libations due\nMy altars crown; such worship I receiv\u2019d.\nYet shall bold Hector\u2019s body, not without\nThe knowledge of Achilles, be remov\u2019d;\nFor day and night his Goddess-mother keeps\nHer constant watch beside him. Then, some God\nBid Thetis hither to my presence haste;\nAnd I with prudent words will counsel her,\nThat so Achilles may at Priam\u2019s hand\nLarge ransom take, and set brave Hector free.\u201d\n\nHe said; and promptly on his errand sprang\nThe storm-swift Iris; in the dark-blue sea\nShe plung\u2019d, midway \u2019twixt Imbros\u2019 rugged shore\nAnd Samos\u2019 isle; the parting waters plash\u2019d.\nAs down to ocean\u2019s lowest depths she dropp\u2019d,\nLike to a plummet, which the fisherman\nLets fall, encas\u2019d in wild bull\u2019s horn, to bear\nDestruction to the sea\u2019s voracious tribes.\nThere found she Thetis in a hollow cave,\nAround her rang\u2019d the Ocean Goddesses:\nShe, in the midst, was weeping o\u2019er the fate\nHer matchless son awaiting, doom\u2019d to die\nFar from his home, on fertile plains of Troy.\nSwift-footed Iris at her side appear\u2019d,\nAnd thus address\u2019d her: \u201cHasten, Thetis; Jove,\nLord of immortal counsel, summons thee.\u201d\nTo whom the silver-footed Goddess thus:\n\u201cWhat would with me the mighty King of Heav\u2019n?\nPress\u2019d as I am with grief, I am asham\u2019d\nTo mingle with the Gods; yet will I go:\nNor shall he speak in vain, whate\u2019er his words.\u201d\n\nThus as she spoke, her veil the Goddess took,\nAll black, than which none deeper could be found;\nShe rose to go; the storm-swift Iris led\nThe way before her; ocean\u2019s parted waves\nAround their path receded; to the beach\nAscending, upwards straight to Heav\u2019n they sprang.\nTh\u2019 all-seeing son of Saturn there they found,\nAnd rang\u2019d around him all th\u2019 immortal Gods.\nPallas made way; and by the throne of Jove\nSat Thetis, Juno proff\u2019ring to her hand\nA goblet fair of gold, and adding words\nOf welcome; she the cup receiv\u2019d, and drank.\nThen thus began the sire of Gods and men:\n\u201cThou, Thetis, sorrowing to Olympus com\u2019st,\nBorne down by ceaseless grief; I know it well;\nYet hear the cause for which I summon\u2019d thee.\nAbout Achilles, thy victorious son,\nAnd valiant Hector\u2019s body, for nine days\nHath contest been in Heav\u2019n; and some have urg\u2019d\nThat Hermes should by stealth the corpse remove.\nThis to Achilles\u2019 praise I mean to turn,\nAnd thus thy rev\u2019rence and thy love retain.\nThen haste thee to the camp, and to thy son\nMy message bear; tell him that all the Gods\nAre fill\u2019d with wrath; and I above the rest\nAm angry, that beside the beaked ships,\nHe, mad with rage, the corpse of Hector keeps:\nSo may he fear me, and restore the dead.\nIris meantime to Priam I will send,\nAnd bid him seek the Grecian ships, and there\nObtain his son\u2019s release: and with him bring\nSuch presents as may melt Achilles\u2019 heart.\u201d\n\nHe said; the silver-footed Queen obey\u2019d;\nDown from Olympus\u2019 heights in haste she sped,\nAnd sought her son; him found she in his tent,\nGroaning with anguish, while his comrades round,\nPlying their tasks, prepar\u2019d the morning meal.\nFor them a goodly sheep, full-fleec\u2019d, was slain.\nClose by his side his Goddess-mother stood,\nAnd gently touch\u2019d him with her hand, and said,\n\u201cHow long, my son, wilt thou thy soul consume\nWith grief and mourning, mindful nor of food\nNor sleep? nor dost thou wisely, to abstain\nFrom woman\u2019s love; for short thy time on earth:\nDeath and imperious fate are close at hand.\nHear then my words; a messenger from Jove\nTo thee I come, to tell thee that the Gods\nAre fill\u2019d with wrath, and he above the rest\nIs angry, that beside the beaked ships\nThou, mad with rage, the corpse of Hector keep\u2019st.\nThen ransom take, and liberate the dead.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied:\n\u201cSo be it; ransom let him bring, and bear\nHis dead away, if such the will of Jove.\u201d\n\nThus, in the concourse of the ships, they two,\nMother and son, their lengthen\u2019d converse held.\n\nThen Saturn\u2019s son to Iris gave command:\n\u201cHaste thee, swift Iris, from Olympus\u2019 height,\nTo Troy, to royal Priam bear my words;\nAnd bid him seek the Grecian ships, and there\nObtain his son\u2019s release; and with him take\nSuch presents as may melt Achilles\u2019 heart.\nAlone, no Trojan with him, must he go;\nYet may a herald on his steps attend,\nSome aged man, his smoothly-rolling car\nAnd mules to drive; and to the city back\nTo bring his dead, whom great Achilles slew.\nNor let the fear of death disturb his mind:\nHermes shall with him, as his escort, go,\nAnd to Achilles\u2019 presence safely bring.\nArriv\u2019d within the tent, nor he himself\nWill slay him, but from others will protect.\nNot ignorant is he, nor void of sense,\nNor disobedient to the Gods\u2019 behest\nBut will with pitying eyes his suppliant view.\u201d\n\nHe said; and on his errand sped in haste\nThe storm-swift Iris; when to Priam\u2019s house\nShe came, the sounds of wailing met her ear.\nWithin the court, around their father, sat\nHis sons, their raiment all bedew\u2019d with tears;\nAnd in the midst, close cover\u2019d with his robe,\nTheir sire, his head and neck with dirt defil\u2019d,\nWhich, wallowing on the earth, himself had heap\u2019d,\nWith his own hands, upon his hoary head.\nThroughout the house his daughters loudly wail\u2019d\nIn mem\u2019ry of the many and the brave\nWho lay in death, by Grecian warriors slain.\nBeside him stood the messenger of Jove,\nAnd whisper\u2019d, while his limbs with terror shook:\n\u201cFear nothing, Priam, son of Dardanus,\nNor let thy mind be troubled; not for ill,\nBut here on kindly errand am I sent:\nTo thee I come, a messenger from Jove,\nWho from on high looks down on thee with eyes\nOf pitying love; he bids thee ransom home\nThe godlike Hector\u2019s corpse; and with thee take\nSuch presents as may melt Achilles\u2019 heart.\nAlone, no Trojan with thee, must thou go;\nYet may a herald on thy steps attend,\nSome aged man, thy smoothly-rolling car\nAnd mules to drive, and to the city back\nTo bring thy dead, whom great Achilles slew.\nNor let the fear of death disturb thy mind:\nHermes shall with thee, as thine escort, go,\nAnd to Achilles\u2019 presence safely bring.\nArriv\u2019d within the tent, nor he himself\nWill slay thee, but from others will protect;\nNot ignorant is he, nor void of sense,\nNor disobedient to the Gods\u2019 behest,\nBut will with pitying eyes his suppliant view.\u201d\n\nSwift-footed Iris said, and vanish\u2019d straight:\nHe to his sons commandment gave, the mules\nTo yoke beneath the smoothly-rolling car,\nAnd on the axle fix the wicker seat.\nHimself the lofty cedar chamber sought,\nFragrant, high-roof\u2019d, with countless treasures stor\u2019d;\nAnd call\u2019d to Hecuba his wife, and said,\n\u201cGood wife, a messenger from Jove hath come,\nWho bids me seek the Grecian ships, and there\nObtain my son\u2019s release; and with me take\nSuch presents as may melt Achilles\u2019 heart.\nSay then, what think\u2019st thou? for my mind inclines\nTo seek the ships within the Grecian camp.\u201d\n\nSo he; but Hecuba lamenting cried,\n\u201cAlas, alas! where are thy senses gone?\nAnd where the wisdom, once of high repute\n\u2019Mid strangers, and \u2019mid those o\u2019er whom thou reign\u2019st?\nHow canst thou think alone to seek the ships,\nEnt\u2019ring his presence, who thy sons hath slain,\nMany and brave? an iron heart is thine!\nOf that bloodthirsty and perfidious man,\nIf thou within the sight and reach shalt come,\nNo pity will he feel, no rev\u2019rence show:\nRather remain we here apart and mourn;\nFor him, when at his birth his thread of life\nWas spun by fate, \u2019twas destin\u2019d that afar\nFrom home and parents, he should glut the maw\nOf rav\u2019ning dogs, by that stern warrior\u2019s tent,\nWhose inmost heart I would I could devour:\nSuch for my son were adequate revenge,\nWhom not in ignominious flight he slew;\nBut standing, thoughtless of escape or flight,\nFor Trojan men and Troy\u2019s deep-bosom\u2019d dames.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:\n\u201cSeek not to hinder me; nor be thyself\nA bird of evil omen in my house;\nFor thou shalt not persuade me. If indeed\nThis message had been brought by mortal man,\nProphet, or seer, or sacrificing priest,\nI should have deem\u2019d it false, and laugh\u2019d to scorn\nThe idle tale; but now (for I myself\nBoth saw and heard the Goddess) I must go;\nNor unfulfill\u2019d shall be the words I speak:\nAnd if indeed it be my fate to die\nBeside the vessels of the brass-clad Greeks,\nI am content! by fierce Achilles\u2019 hand\nLet me be slain, so once more in my arms\nI hold my boy, and give my sorrow vent.\u201d\nThen raising up the coffer\u2019s polish\u2019d lid,\nHe chose twelve gorgeous shawls, twelve single cloaks.\nAs many rugs, as many splendid robes,\nAs many tunics; then of gold he took\nTen talents full; two tripods, burnish\u2019d bright,\nFour caldrons; then a cup of beauty rare,\nA rich possession, which the men of Thrace\nHad giv\u2019n, when there he went ambassador;\nE\u2019en this he spar\u2019d not, such his keen desire\nHis son to ransom. From the corridor\nWith angry words he drove the Trojans all:\n\n\u201cOut with ye, worthless rascals, vagabonds!\nHave ye no griefs at home, that here ye come\nTo pester me? or is it not enough\nThat Jove with deep affliction visits me,\nSlaying my bravest son? ye to your cost\nShall know his loss: since now that he is gone,\nThe Greeks shall find you easier far to slay.\nBut may my eyes be clos\u2019d in death, ere see\nThe city sack\u2019d, and utterly destroy\u2019d.\u201d\n\nHe said, and with his staff drove out the crowd;\nBefore the old man\u2019s anger fled they all;\nThen to his sons in threat\u2019ning tone he cried;\nTo Paris, Helenus, and Agathon,\nPammon, Antiphonus, Polites brave,\nDeiphobus, and bold Hippothous,\nAnd godlike Dius; all these nine with threats\nAnd angry taunts the aged sire assail\u2019d:\n\u201cHaste, worthless sons, my scandal and my shame!\nWould that ye all beside the Grecian ships\nIn Hector\u2019s stead had died! Oh woe is me,\nWho have begotten sons, in all the land\nThe best and bravest; now remains not one;\nMestor, and Troilus, dauntless charioteer,\nAnd Hector, who a God \u2019mid men appear\u2019d,\nNor like a mortal\u2019s offspring, but a God\u2019s:\nAll these hath Mars cut off; and left me none,\nNone but the vile and refuse; liars all,\nVain skipping coxcombs, in the dance alone,\nAnd in nought else renown\u2019d; base plunderers,\nFrom their own countrymen, of lambs and kids.\nWhen, laggards, will ye harness me the car\nEquipp\u2019d with all things needed for the way?\u201d\n\nHe said; they quail\u2019d beneath their father\u2019s wrath,\nAnd brought the smoothly-running mule-wain out,\nWell-fram\u2019d, new-built; and fix\u2019d the wicker seat;\nThen from the peg the mule-yoke down they took,\nOf boxwood wrought, with boss and rings complete;\nAnd with the yoke, the yoke-band brought they forth,\nNine cubits long; and to the polish\u2019d pole\nAt the far end attach\u2019d; the breast-rings then\nFix\u2019d to the pole-piece: and on either side\nThrice round the knob the leathern thong they wound.\nAnd bound it fast, and inward turn\u2019d the tongue.\nThen the rich ransom, from the chambers brought,\nOf Hector\u2019s head, upon the wain they pil\u2019d;\nAnd yok\u2019d the strong-hoof\u2019d mules, to harness train\u2019d,\nThe Mysians\u2019 splendid present to the King:\nTo Priam\u2019s car they harness\u2019d then the steeds,\nWhich he himself at polish\u2019d manger fed.\n\nDeep thoughts revolving, in the lofty halls\nWere met the herald and the aged King,\nWhen Hecuba with troubled mind drew near;\nIn her right hand a golden cup she bore\nOf luscious wine, that ere they took their way\nThey to the Gods might due libations pour;\nBefore the car she stood, and thus she spoke:\n\u201cTake, and to father Jove thine off\u2019ring pour,\nAnd pray that he may bring thee safely home\nFrom all thy foes; since sore against my will\nThou needs wilt venture to the ships of Greece.\nThen to Idaean Jove, the cloud-girt son\nOf Saturn, who th\u2019 expanse of Troy surveys,\nPrefer thy pray\u2019r, beseeching him to send,\nOn thy right hand, a winged messenger,\nThe bird he loves the best, of strongest flight;\nThat thou thyself mayst see and know the sign,\nAnd, firm in faith, approach the ships of Greece.\nBut should all-seeing Jove the sign withhold,\nThen not with my consent shouldst thou attempt,\nWhate\u2019er thy wish, to reach the Grecian ships.\u201d\n\nTo whom, in answer, godlike Priam thus:\n\u201cO woman, I refuse not to obey\nThy counsel; good it is to raise the hands\nIn pray\u2019r to Heav\u2019n, and Jove\u2019s protection seek.\u201d\nThe old man said; and bade th\u2019 attendant pour\nPure water on his hands; with ewer she,\nAnd basin, stood beside him: from his wife,\nThe due ablutions made, he took the cup;\nThen in the centre of the court he stood,\nAnd as he pour\u2019d the wine, look\u2019d up to Heav\u2019n,\nAnd thus with voice uplifted pray\u2019d aloud:\n\u201cO father Jove, who rul\u2019st on Ida\u2019s height,\nMost great, most glorious! grant that I may find\nSome pity in Achilles\u2019 heart; and send,\nOn my right hand, a winged messenger,\nThe bird thou lov\u2019st the best, of strongest flight,\nThat I myself may see and know the sign,\nAnd, firm in faith, approach the ships of Greece.\u201d\n\nThus as he pray\u2019d, the Lord of counsel heard;\nAnd sent forthwith an eagle, feather\u2019d king,\nDark bird of chase, and Dusky thence surnam\u2019d:\nWide as the portals, well secur\u2019d with bolts,\nThat guard some wealthy monarch\u2019s lofty hall,\nOn either side his ample pinions spread.\nOn the right hand appear\u2019d he, far above\nThe city soaring; they the fav\u2019ring sign\nWith joy beheld, and ev\u2019ry heart was cheer\u2019d.\nMounting his car in haste, the aged King\nDrove thro\u2019 the court, and thro\u2019 the echoing porch;\nThe mules in front, by sage Idaeus driv\u2019n,\nThat drew the four-wheel\u2019d wain; behind them came\nThe horses, down the city\u2019s steep descent\nUrg\u2019d by th\u2019 old man to speed; the crowd of friends\nThat follow\u2019d mourn\u2019d for him, as doom\u2019d to death.\nDescended from the city to the plain,\nHis sons and sons-in-law to Ilium took\nTheir homeward way; advancing o\u2019er the plain\nThey two escap\u2019d not Jove\u2019s all-seeing eye;\nPitying he saw the aged sire; and thus\nAt once to Hermes spoke, his much-lov\u2019d son:\n\u201cHermes, for thou in social converse lov\u2019st\nTo mix with men, and hear\u2019st whome\u2019er thou wilt;\nHaste thee, and Priam to the Grecian ships\nSo lead, that none of all the Greeks may see\nEre at Achilles\u2019 presence he attain.\u201d\n\nHe said; nor disobey\u2019d the heav\u2019nly Guide;\nHis golden sandals on his feet he bound,\nAmbrosial work; which bore him o\u2019er the waves,\nSwift as the wind, and o\u2019er the wide-spread earth;\nThen took his rod, wherewith he seals at will\nThe eyes of men, and wakes again from sleep.\nThis in his hand he bore, and sprang for flight.\nSoon the wide Hellespont he reach\u2019d, and Troy,\nAnd pass\u2019d in likeness of a princely youth,\nIn op\u2019ning manhood, fairest term of life.\n\nThe twain had pass\u2019d by Ilus\u2019 lofty tomb,\nAnd halted there the horses and the mules\nBeside the margin of the stream to drink;\nFor darkness now was creeping o\u2019er the earth:\nWhen through the gloom the herald Hermes saw\nApproaching near, to Priam thus he cried:\n\u201cO son of Dardanus, bethink thee well;\nOf prudent counsel great is now our need.\nA man I see, and fear he means us ill.\nSay, with the horses shall we fly at once,\nOr clasp his knees, and for his mercy sue?\u201d\nThe old man heard, his mind confus\u2019d with dread;\nSo grievously he fear\u2019d, that ev\u2019ry hair\nUpon his bended limbs did stand on end;\nHe stood astounded; but the Guardian-God\nApproach\u2019d, and took him by the hand, and said:\n\u201cWhere, father, goest thou thus with horse and mule\nIn the still night, when men are sunk in sleep?\nAnd fear\u2019st thou not the slaughter-breathing Greeks,\nThine unrelenting foes, and they so near?\nIf any one of them should see thee now,\nSo richly laden in the gloom of night,\nHow wouldst thou feel? thou art not young thyself,\nAnd this old man, thy comrade, would avail\nBut little to protect thee from assault.\nI will not harm thee, nay will shield from harm,\nFor like my father\u2019s is, methinks, thy face.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:\n\u201c\u2019Tis as thou say\u2019st, fair son; yet hath some God\nExtended o\u2019er me his protecting hand,\nWho sends me such a guide, so opportune.\nBless\u2019d are thy parents in a son so grac\u2019d\nIn face and presence, and of mind so wise.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:\n\u201cO father, well and wisely dost thou speak;\nBut tell me this, and truly: dost thou bear\nThese wealthy treasures to some foreign land,\nThat they for thee in safety may be stor\u2019d?\nOr have ye all resolv\u2019d to fly from Troy\nIn fear, your bravest slain, thy gallant son,\nWho never from the Greeks\u2019 encounter flinch\u2019d?\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:\n\u201cWho art thou, noble Sir, and what thy race,\nThat speak\u2019st thus fairly of my hapless son?\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:\n\u201cTry me, old man; of godlike Hector ask;\nFor often in the glory-giving fight\nThese eyes have seen him; chief, when to the ships\nThe Greeks he drove, and with the sword destroy\u2019d.\nWe gaz\u2019d in wonder; from the fight restrain\u2019d\nBy Peleus\u2019 son, with Agamemnon wroth.\nHis follower I; one ship convey\u2019d us both;\nOne of the Myrmidons I am; my sire\nPolyctor, rich, but aged, e\u2019en as thou.\nSix sons he hath, besides myself, the sev\u2019nth;\nAnd I by lot was drafted for the war.\nI from the ships am to the plain come forth;\nFor with the dawn of day the keen-ey\u2019d Greeks\nWill round the city marshal their array.\nThey chafe in idleness; the chiefs in vain\nStrive to restrain their ardour for the fight.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:\n\u201cIf of Achilles, Peleus\u2019 son, thou art\nIndeed a follower, tell me all the truth;\nLies yet my son beside the Grecian ships,\nOr hath Achilles torn him limb from limb,\nAnd to his dogs the mangled carcase giv\u2019n?\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:\n\u201cOn him, old man, nor dogs nor birds have fed,\nBut by the ship of Peleus\u2019 son he lies\nWithin the tent; twelve days he there hath lain,\nNor hath corruption touch\u2019d his flesh, nor worms,\nThat wont to prey on men in battle slain.\nThe corpse, indeed, with each returning morn,\nAround his comrade\u2019s tomb Achilles drags,\nYet leaves it still uninjur\u2019d; thou thyself\nMightst see how fresh, as dew-besprent, he lies,\nFrom blood-stains cleans\u2019d, and clos\u2019d his many wounds,\nFor many a lance was buried in his corpse.\nSo, e\u2019en in death, the blessed Gods above,\nWho lov\u2019d him well, protect thy noble son.\u201d\n\nHe said; th\u2019 old man rejoicing heard his words,\nAnd answer\u2019d, \u201cSee, my son, how good it is\nTo give th\u2019 immortal Gods their tribute due;\nFor never did my son, while yet he liv\u2019d,\nNeglect the Gods who on Olympus dwell;\nAnd thence have they remember\u2019d him in death.\nAccept, I pray, this goblet rich-emboss\u2019d;\nBe thou my guard, and, under Heav\u2019n, my guide,\nUntil I reach the tent of Peleus\u2019 son.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:\n\u201cOld father, me thy younger wouldst thou tempt,\nIn vain; who bidd\u2019st me at thy hands accept\nThy proffer\u2019d presents, to Achilles\u2019 wrong.\nI dread his anger; and should hold it shame\nTo plunder him, through fear of future ill.\nBut, as thy guide, I could conduct thee safe,\nAs far as Argos, journeying by thy side,\nOn ship-board or on foot; nor by the fault\nOf thy conductor shouldst thou meet with harm.\u201d\n\nThus spoke the Guardian-God, and on the car\nMounting in haste, he took the whip and reins,\nAnd with fresh vigour mules and horses fill\u2019d.\nWhen to the ship-tow\u2019rs and the trench they came,\nThe guard had late been busied with their meal;\nAnd with deep sleep the heav\u2019nly Guide o\u2019erspread\nThe eyes of all; then open\u2019d wide the gates,\nAnd push\u2019d aside the bolts, and led within\nBoth Priam, and the treasure-laden wain.\nBut when they reach\u2019d Achilles\u2019 lofty tent,\n(Which for their King the Myrmidons had built\nOf fir-trees fell\u2019d, and overlaid the roof\nWith rushes mown from off the neighb\u2019ring mead;\nAnd all around a spacious court enclos\u2019d\nWith cross-set palisades; a single bar\nOf fir the gateway guarded, which to shut\nThree men, of all the others, scarce suffic\u2019d,\nAnd three to open; but Achilles\u2019 hand\nUnaided shut with ease the massive bar)\nThen for the old man Hermes op\u2019d the gate,\nAnd brought within the court the gifts design\u2019d\nFor Peleus\u2019 godlike son; then from the car\nSprang to the ground, and thus to Priam spoke:\n\u201cOld man, a God hath hither been thy guide;\nHermes I am, and sent to thee from Jove,\nFather of all, to bring thee safely here.\nI now return, nor to Achilles\u2019 eyes\nWill I appear; beseems it not a God\nTo greet a mortal in the sight of all.\nBut go thou in, and clasp Achilles\u2019 knees,\nAnd supplicate him for his father\u2019s sake,\nHis fair-hair\u2019d mother\u2019s, and his child\u2019s, that so\nThy words may stir an answer in his heart.\u201d\n\nThus saying, Hermes to Olympus\u2019 heights\nReturn\u2019d; and Priam from his chariot sprang,\nAnd left Idaeus there, in charge to keep\nThe horses and the mules, while he himself\nEnter\u2019d the dwelling straight, where wont to sit\nAchilles, lov\u2019d of Heav\u2019n. The chief he found\nWithin, his followers seated all apart;\nTwo only in his presence minister\u2019d,\nThe brave Automedon, and Alcimus,\nA warrior bold; scarce ended the repast\nOf food and wine; the table still was set.\nGreat Priam enter\u2019d, unperceiv\u2019d of all;\nAnd standing by Achilles, with his arms\nEmbrac\u2019d his knees, and kiss\u2019d those fearful hands,\nBlood-stain\u2019d, which many of his sons had slain.\nAs when a man, by cruel fate pursued,\nIn his own land hath shed another\u2019s blood,\nAnd flying, seeks beneath some wealthy house\nA foreign refuge; wond\u2019ring, all behold:\nOn godlike Priam so with wonder gaz\u2019d\nAchilles; wonder seiz\u2019d th\u2019 attendants all,\nAnd one to other looked; then Priam thus\nTo Peleus\u2019 son his suppliant speech address\u2019d:\n\u201cThink, great Achilles, rival of the Gods,\nUpon thy father, e\u2019en as I myself\nUpon the threshold of unjoyous age:\nAnd haply he, from them that dwell around\nMay suffer wrong, with no protector near\nTo give him aid; yet he, rejoicing, knows\nThat thou still liv\u2019st; and day by day may hope\nTo see his son returning safe from Troy;\nWhile I, all hapless, that have many sons,\nThe best and bravest through the breadth of Troy,\nBegotten, deem that none are left me now.\nFifty there were, when came the sons of Greece;\nNineteen the offspring of a single womb;\nThe rest, the women of my household bore.\nOf these have many by relentless Mars\nBeen laid in dust; but he, my only one,\nThe city\u2019s and his brethren\u2019s sole defence,\nHe, bravely fighting in his country\u2019s cause,\nHector, but lately by thy hand hath fall\u2019n:\nOn his behalf I venture to approach\nThe Grecian ships; for his release to thee\nTo make my pray\u2019r, and priceless ransom pay.\nThen thou, Achilles, reverence the Gods;\nAnd, for thy father\u2019s sake, look pitying down\nOn me, more needing pity; since I bear\nSuch grief as never man on earth hath borne.\nWho stoop to kiss the hand that slew my son.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, within Achilles\u2019 breast\nFond mem\u2019ry of his father rose; he touch\u2019d\nThe old man\u2019s hand, and gently put him by;\nThen wept they both, by various mem\u2019ries stirr\u2019d:\nOne, prostrate at Achilles\u2019 feet, bewail\u2019d\nHis warrior son; Achilles for his sire,\nAnd for Patroclus wept, his comrade dear;\nAnd through the house their weeping loud was heard.\nBut when Achilles had indulg\u2019d his grief,\nAnd eas\u2019d the yearning of his heart and limbs,\nUprising, with his hand the aged sire,\nPitying his hoary head and hoary beard,\nHe rais\u2019d, and thus with gentle words address\u2019d:\n\n\u201cAlas, what sorrows, poor old man, are thine!\nHow couldst thou venture to the Grecian ships\nAlone, and to the presence of the man\nWhose hand hath slain so many of thy sons,\nMany and brave? an iron heart is thine!\nBut sit thou on this seat; and in our hearts,\nThough filled with grief, let us that grief suppress;\nFor woful lamentation nought avails.\nSuch, is the thread the Gods for mortals spin,\nTo live in woe, while they from cares are free.\nTwo coffers lie beside the door of Jove,\nWith gifts for man: one good, the other ill;\nTo whom from each the Lord of lightning gives,\nHim sometimes evil, sometimes good befalls;\nTo whom the ill alone, him foul disgrace\nAnd grinding mis\u2019ry o\u2019er the earth pursue:\nBy God and man alike despis\u2019d he roams.\nThus from his birth the Gods to Peleus gave\nExcellent gifts; with wealth and substance bless\u2019d\nAbove his fellows; o\u2019er the Myrmidons\nHe rul\u2019d with sov\u2019reign sway; and Heav\u2019n bestow\u2019d\nOn him, a mortal, an immortal bride.\nYet this of ill was mingled in his lot,\nThat in his house no rising race he saw\nOf future Kings; one only son he had,\nOne doom\u2019d to early death; nor is it mine\nTo tend my father\u2019s age; but far from home\nThee and thy sons in Troy I vex with war.\nMuch have we heard too of thy former wealth;\nAbove what Lesbos northward, Macar\u2019s seat,\nContains, and Upper Phrygia, and the shores\nOf boundless Hellespont, \u2019tis said that thou\nIn wealth and number of thy sons wast bless\u2019d.\nBut since on thee this curse the Gods have brought,\nStill round thy city war and murder rage.\nBear up, nor thus with grief incessant mourn;\nVain is thy sorrow for thy gallant son;\nThou canst not raise him, and mayst suffer more.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire;\n\u201cTell me not yet, illustrious chief, to sit,\nWhile Hector lies, uncar\u2019d for, in the tent;\nBut let me quickly go, that with mine eyes\nI may behold my son; and thou accept\nThe ample treasures which we tender thee:\nMayst thou enjoy them, and in safety reach\nThy native land, since thou hast spar\u2019d my life,\nAnd bidd\u2019st me still behold the light of Heav\u2019n.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles thus with stern regard:\n\u201cOld man, incense me not; I mean myself\nTo give thee back thy son; for here of late\nDespatch\u2019d by Jove, my Goddess-mother came,\nThe daughter of the aged Ocean-God:\nAnd thee too, Priam, well I know, some God\n(I cannot err) hath guided to our ships.\nNo mortal, though in vent\u2019rous youth, would dare\nOur camp to enter; nor could hope to pass\nUnnotic\u2019d by the watch, nor easily\nRemove the pond\u2019rous bar that guards our doors.\nBut stir not up my anger in my grief;\nLest, suppliant though thou be, within my tent\nI brook thee not, and Jove\u2019s command transgress.\u201d\n\nHe said; the old man trembled, and obey\u2019d;\nThen to the door-way, with a lion\u2019s spring,\nAchilles rush\u2019d; not unaccompanied;\nWith him Automedon and Alcimus,\nHis two attendants, of his followers all,\nNext to the lost Patroclus, best-esteem\u2019d;\nThey from the yoke the mules and horses loos\u2019d;\nThen led the herald of the old man in,\nAnd bade him sit; and from the polish\u2019d wain\nThe costly ransom took of Hector\u2019s head.\nTwo robes they left, and one well-woven vest,\nTo clothe the corpse, and send with honour home.\nThen to the female slaves he gave command\nTo wash the body, and anoint with oil,\nApart, that Priam might not see his son;\nLest his griev\u2019d heart its passion unrestrain\u2019d\nShould utter, and Achilles, rous\u2019d to wrath,\nHis suppliant slay, and Jove\u2019s command transgress.\nWhen they had wash\u2019d the body, and with oil\nAnointed, and around it wrapp\u2019d the robe\nAnd vest, Achilles lifted up the dead\nWith his own hands, and laid him on the couch;\nWhich to the polish\u2019d wain his followers rais\u2019d.\nThen groaning, on his friend by name he call\u2019d:\n\u201cForgive, Patroclus! be not wroth with me,\nIf in the realm of darkness thou shouldst hear\nThat godlike Hector to his father\u2019s arms,\nFor no mean ransom, I restore; whereof\nA fitting share for thee I set aside.\u201d\n\nThis said, Achilles to the tent return\u2019d;\nOn the carv\u2019d couch, from whence he rose, he sat\nBeside the wall; and thus to Priam spoke:\n\n\u201cOld man, thy son, according to thy pray\u2019r,\nIs giv\u2019n thee back; upon the couch he lies;\nThyself shalt see him at the dawn of day.\nMeanwhile the ev\u2019ning meal demands our care.\nNot fair-hair\u2019d Niobe abstain\u2019d from food\nWhen in the house her children lay in death,\nSix beauteous daughters and six stalwart sons.\nThe youths, Apollo with his silver bow,\nThe maids, the Archer-Queen, Diana, slew,\nWith anger fill\u2019d that Niobe presum\u2019d\nHerself with fair Latona to compare,\nHer many children with her rival\u2019s two;\nSo by the two were all the many slain.\nNine days in death they lay; and none was there\nTo pay their fun\u2019ral rites; for Saturn\u2019s son\nHad given to all the people hearts of stone.\nAt length th\u2019 immortal Gods entomb\u2019d the dead.\nNor yet did Niobe, when now her grief\nHad worn itself in tears, from food refrain.\nAnd now in Sipylus, amid the rocks,\nAnd lonely mountains, where the Goddess nymphs\nThat love to dance by Achelous\u2019 stream,\n\u2019Tis said, were cradled, she, though turn\u2019d to stone,\nBroods o\u2019er the wrongs inflicted by the Gods.\nSo we too, godlike sire, the meal may share;\nAnd later, thou thy noble son mayst mourn,\nTo Troy restor\u2019d\u2014well worthy he thy tears.\u201d\n\nThis said, he slaughter\u2019d straight a white-fleec\u2019d sheep;\nHis comrades then the carcase flay\u2019d and dress\u2019d:\nThe meat prepar\u2019d, and fasten\u2019d to the spits;\nRoasted with care, and from the fire withdrew.\nThe bread Automedon from baskets fair\nApportion\u2019d out; the meat Achilles shar\u2019d.\nThey on the viands set before them fell.\nThe rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,\nIn wonder Priam on Achilles gaz\u2019d,\nHis form and stature; as a God he seem\u2019d;\nAnd he too look\u2019d on Priam, and admir\u2019d\nHis venerable face, and gracious speech.\nWith mutual pleasure each on other gaz\u2019d,\nTill godlike Priam first address\u2019d his host:\n\n\u201cDismiss me now, illustrious chief, to rest;\nAnd lie we down, in gentle slumbers wrapp\u2019d;\nFor never have mine eyes been clos\u2019d in sleep,\nSince by thy hand my gallant son was slain:\nBut groaning still, I brood upon my woes,\nAnd in my court with dust my head defile.\nNow have I tasted bread, now ruddy wine\nHath o\u2019er my palate pass\u2019d; but not till now.\u201d\n\nThus he; his comrades and th\u2019 attendant maids\nAchilles order\u2019d in the corridor\nTwo mattresses to place, with blankets fair\nOf purple wool o\u2019erlaid; and on the top\nRugs and soft sheets for upper cov\u2019ring spread.\nThey from the chamber, torch in hand, withdrew,\nAnd with obedient haste two beds prepar\u2019d.\nThen thus Achilles spoke in jesting tone:\n\u201cThou needs must sleep without, my good old friend;\nLest any leader of the Greeks should come,\nAs is their custom, to confer with me;\nOf them whoe\u2019er should find thee here by night\nForthwith to Agamemnon would report,\nAnd Hector might not be so soon, restor\u2019d.\nBut tell me truly this; how many days\nFor godlike Hector\u2019s fun\u2019ral rites ye need;\nThat for so long a time I may myself\nRefrain from combat, and the people stay.\u201d\n\nTo whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:\n\u201cIf by thy leave we may indeed perform\nHis fun\u2019ral rites, to thee, Achilles, great\nWill be our gratitude, if this thou grant.\nThou know\u2019st how close the town is hemm\u2019d around;\nAnd from the mountain, distant as it is,\nThe Trojans well may fear to draw the wood.\nNine days to public mourning would we give;\nThe tenth, to fun\u2019ral rites and fun\u2019ral feast;\nThen on th\u2019 eleventh would we raise his mound;\nThe twelfth, renew the war, if needs we must.\u201d\n\nTo whom Achilles swift of foot replied:\n\u201cSo shall it be, old Priam; I engage\nTo stay the battle for the time requir\u2019d.\u201d\n\nThus speaking, with his hand the old man\u2019s wrist\nHe grasp\u2019d, in token that he need not fear.\nThen in the corridor lay down to rest\nOld Priam and the herald, Elders sage;\nWhile in his tent\u2019s recess Achilles slept,\nThe fair Briseis resting by his side.\n\nIn night-long slumbers lay the other Gods,\nAnd helmed chiefs, by gentle sleep subdued;\nBut on the eyes of Hermes, Guardian-God,\nNo slumber fell, deep pond\u2019ring in his mind\nHow from the ships in safety to conduct\nThe royal Priam, and the guard elude.\nAbove the sleeper\u2019s head he stood, and cried:\n\u201cOld man, small heed thou tak\u2019st of coming ill,\nWho, when Achilles gives thee leave to go,\nSleep\u2019st undisturb\u2019d, surrounded by thy foes.\nThy son hath been restor\u2019d, and thou hast paid\nA gen\u2019rous price; but to redeem thy life,\nIf Agamemnon and the other Greeks\nShould know that thou art here, full thrice so much\nThy sons, who yet are left, would have to pay.\u201d\n\nHe said; the old man trembled, and arous\u2019d\nThe herald; while the horses and the mules\nWere yok\u2019d by Hermes, who with silent speed\nDrove through th\u2019 encampment, unobserv\u2019d of all.\nBut when they came to eddying Xanthus\u2019 ford,\nFair-flowing stream, born of immortal Jove,\nTo high Olympus Hermes took his flight,\nAs morn, in saffron robe, o\u2019er all the earth\nWas light diffusing; they with fun\u2019ral wail\nDrove cityward the horses; following came\nThe mules that drew the litter of the dead.\nThe plain they travers\u2019d o\u2019er, observ\u2019d of none,\nOr man or woman, till Cassandra, fair\nAs golden Venus, from the topmost height\nOf Pergamus, her father in his car\nUpstanding saw, the herald at his side.\nHim too she saw, who on the litter lay;\nThen lifted up her voice, and cried aloud\nTo all the city, \u201cHither, Trojans, come,\nBoth men and women, Hector see restor\u2019d;\nIf, while he liv\u2019d, returning from the fight,\nYe met him e\u2019er rejoicing, who indeed\nWas all the city\u2019s chiefest joy and pride.\u201d\n\nShe said; nor man nor woman then was left\nWithin the city; o\u2019er the minds of all\nGrief pass\u2019d, resistless; to the gates in throngs\nThey press\u2019d, to crowd round him who brought the dead.\nThe first to clasp the body were his wife\nAnd honour\u2019d mother; eagerly they sprang\nOn the smooth-rolling wain, to touch the head\nOf Hector; round them, weeping, stood the crowd\nWeeping, till sunset, all the live-long day\nHad they before the gates for Hector mourn\u2019d;\nHad not old Priam from the car address\u2019d\nThe crowd: \u201cMake way, that so the mules may pass;\nWhen to my house I shall have brought my dead,\nYe there may vent your sorrow as ye will.\u201d\n\nThus as he spoke, obedient to his word\nThey stood aside, and for the car made way:\nBut when to Priam\u2019s lordly house they came,\nThey laid him on a rich-wrought couch, and call\u2019d\nThe minstrels in, who by the hero\u2019s bed\nShould lead the melancholy chorus; they\nPour\u2019d forth the music of the mournful dirge,\nWhile women\u2019s voices join\u2019d in loud lament.\nWhite-arm\u2019d Andromache the wail began,\nThe head of Hector clasping in her hands:\n\u201cMy husband, thou art gone in pride of youth,\nAnd in thine house hast left me desolate;\nThy child an infant still, thy child and mine,\nUnhappy parents both! nor dare I hope\nThat he may reach the ripeness of his youth;\nFor ere that day shall Troy in ruin fall,\nSince thou art gone, her guardian! thou whose arm\nDefended her, her wives, and helpless babes!\nThey now shall shortly o\u2019er the sea be borne,\nAnd with them I shall go; thou too, my child,\nMust follow me, to servile labour doom\u2019d,\nThe suff\u2019ring victim of a tyrant Lord;\nUnless perchance some angry Greek may seize\nAnd dash thee from the tow\u2019r\u2014a woful death!\nWhose brother, or whose father, or whose son\nBy Hector hath been slain; for many a Greek\nBy Hector\u2019s hand hath bit the bloody dust;\nNot light in battle was thy father\u2019s hand!\nTherefore for him the gen\u2019ral city mourns;\nThou to thy parents bitter grief hast caus\u2019d,\nHector! but bitt\u2019rest grief of all hast left\nTo me! for not to me was giv\u2019n to clasp\nThe hand extended from thy dying bed,\nNor words of wisdom catch, which night and day,\nWith tears, I might have treasur\u2019d in my heart.\u201d\n\nWeeping she spoke\u2014the women join\u2019d the wail.\nThen Hecuba took up the loud lament:\n\u201cHector, of all my children dearest thou!\nDear to th\u2019 Immortals too in life wast thou,\nAnd they in death have borne thee still in mind;\nFor other of my sons, his captives made,\nAcross the wat\u2019ry waste, to Samos\u2019 isle\nOr Imbros, or th\u2019 inhospitable shore\nOf Lemnos, hath Achilles, swift of foot,\nTo slav\u2019ry sold; thee, when his sharp-edg\u2019d spear\nHad robb\u2019d thee of thy life, he dragg\u2019d indeed\nAround Patroclus\u2019 tomb, his comrade dear,\nWhom thou hadst slain; yet so he rais\u2019d not up\nHis dead to life again; now liest thou here,\nAll fresh and fair, as dew-besprent; like one\nWhom bright Apollo, with his arrows keen,\nGod of the silver bow, hath newly slain.\u201d\n\nWeeping, she spoke; and rous\u2019d the gen\u2019ral grief.\nThen Helen, third, the mournful strain renew\u2019d:\n\u201cHector, of all my brethren dearest thou!\nTrue, godlike Paris claims me as his wife,\nWho bore me hither\u2014would I then had died!\nBut twenty years have pass\u2019d since here I came,\nAnd left my native land; yet ne\u2019er from thee\nI heard one scornful, one degrading word;\nAnd when from others I have borne reproach,\nThy brothers, sisters, or thy brothers\u2019 wives,\nOr mother, (for thy sire was ever kind\nE\u2019en as a father) thou hast check\u2019d them still\nWith tender feeling, and with gentle words.\nFor thee I weep, and for myself no less:\nFor, through the breadth of Troy, none love me now,\nNone kindly look on me, but all abhor.\u201d\n\nWeeping she spoke, and with her wept the crowd.\nAt length the aged Priam gave command:\n\u201cHaste now, ye Trojans, to the city bring\nGood store of fuel; fear no treach\u2019rous wile;\nFor when he sent me from the dark-ribb\u2019d ships,\nAchilles promis\u2019d that from hostile arms\nTill the twelfth morn we should no harm sustain.\u201d\n\nHe said; and they the oxen and the mules\nYok\u2019d to the wains, and from the city throng\u2019d:\nNine days they labour\u2019d, and brought back to Troy\nGood store of wood; but when the tenth day\u2019s light\nUpon the earth appear\u2019d, weeping, they bore\nBrave Hector out; and on the fun\u2019ral pile\nLaying the glorious dead, applied the torch.\n\nWhile yet the rosy-finger\u2019d morn was young\nRound noble Hector\u2019s pyre the people press\u2019d:\nWhen all were gather\u2019d round, and closely throng\u2019d\nFirst on the burning mass, as far as spread\nThe range of fire, they pour\u2019d the ruddy wine,\nAnd quench\u2019d the flames: his brethren then and friends\nWeeping, the hot tears flowing down their cheeks,\nCollected from the pile the whiten\u2019d bones;\nThese in a golden casket they enclos\u2019d,\nAnd o\u2019er it spread soft shawls of purple dye;\nThen in a grave they laid it, and in haste\nWith stone in pond\u2019rous masses cover\u2019d o\u2019er;\nAnd rais\u2019d a mound, and watch\u2019d on ev\u2019ry side,\nFrom sudden inroad of the Greeks to guard.\nThe mound erected, back they turn\u2019d; and all\nAssembled duly, shar\u2019d the solemn feast\nIn Priam\u2019s palace, Heav\u2019n-descended King.\n\nSuch were the rites to glorious Hector paid.\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n [1] The text of the original leaves it somewhat in doubt whether the\n anger of the Greeks were directed against Thersites or Agamemnon. I\n believe the preponderance of authority, ancient and modern, is in\n favour of the former interpretation; but the latter is not without the\n support of some eminent scholars, and after much consideration I have\n been induced to adopt it. The original represents the Greeks as filled\n with anger and resentment against some one. Thersites was an object of\n general contempt, but he had done nothing to excite those feelings:\n indeed, apart from the offensiveness of his tone, the public sympathy\n was with him; for the army was deeply dissatisfied, and resented the\n conduct of Agamemnon against Achilles, mainly perhaps because they had\n ceased to be enriched with the plunder of his successful forays (see\n i. 202, and ix. 387). This dissatisfaction and resentment are referred\n to by Neptune (xiii. 126), and by Agamemnon himself (xiv. 55). They\n had lately manifested themselves in the alacrity with which the whole\n army had caught at the insidious suggestion of abandoning the war;\n and, just before the second assembly, Thersites avails himself of the\n general feeling, constituting himself the representative of a popular\n grievance, to vent his personal spite against Agamemnon. Ulysses saw\n how dangerous such a display might be at such a moment; and artfully\n assuming (line 281) that the feeling was confined to Thersites alone\n (though in his subsequent speech, line 335, he admits and excuses the\n general discontent), he proceeds to cut short its expression by\n summary chastisement. Thereupon the fickle multitude, \u201cdespite their\n anger\u201d (against Agamemnon), cannot refrain from laughing at the signal\n discomfiture of their self-constituted champion.\n\n\nThis view is very fully set forth in a note on the passage appended to\na translation of the Iliad by Mr. Barter, published in 1859, but which\nI have only seen since the publication of this work.\n\n\n [2] See also Book xxii. l. 252. Milton, in the corresponding passage\n at the close of the 4th Book of \u2018Paradise Lost,\u2019 reverses the sign,\n and represents the scale of the vanquished as \u201cflying up\u201d and \u201ckicking\n the beam.\u201d \u201cThe Fiend look\u2019d up, and knew His mounted scale aloft; nor\n more, but fled Murm\u2019ring, and with him fled the shades of night.\u201d\n\n\n [3] This comparison does not afford a very accurate criterion of the\n \u201cspace interposed,\u201d which cannot be estimated without knowing the\n total distance within which the faster was to outstrip the slower\n team.\n\n\n [4] This passage would seem to be the result of an oversight on the\n part of the Poet; who, apparently, had forgotten that Pylasmenes, \u201cthe\n Paphlagonian Chief,\u201d had himself been killed by Menelaus, some time\n before the death of his son See Book V., l. 656.\n\n\n [5] Line 45 et seqq. I hope I may be pardoned for having somewhat\n curtailed the list of these ladies, which in the original extends over\n ten lines of names only. In doing so, I have followed the example of\n Virgil, who represents the same ladies [G. 4. 336] in attendance on\n Cyrene; and has not only reduced the list, but added some slight\n touches illustrating their occupations and private history: a liberty\n permissible to an imitator, but not to a translator.\n\n\n [6] L. 151. Chthizos, yesterday. But either the word must have a more\n extended signification than is usually given to it, or Homer must here\n have fallen into an error; for two complete nights and one day, that\n on which Patroclus met his death, had intervened since the visit of\n Ajax and Ulysses to the tent of Achilles. See also l. 215.\n\n\n [7] L. 547. The terms made use of in this line, and in 481, may appear\n somewhat coarse, as addressed by one Goddess to another: but I assure\n the English reader that in this passage especially I have greatly\n softened down the expression of the original; a literal translation of\n which, however forcible, would shock even the least fastidious critic.\n It must, indeed, be admitted that the mode in which \u201cthe white-armed\n Goddess\u201d proceeds to execute her threat is hardly more dignified than\n the language, in which it is conveyed, is refined.\n\n\n [8] Line 737.\u2014They being two, while I was only one. Such I believe to\n be the true interpretation of this passage, which, however, is one of\n admitted difficulty. According to our modern notions, it is not very\n evident what advantage two men in a car would have over one in\n another; nor what would be gained by the division of labour which\n assigned the reins to one and the whip to the other; but such, from\n line 740-741, appears to have been the view taken by Homer.","title":"The Iliad","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":144811}