by Homer
And Agamemnon through the tents waked all, and did dispose
Both men and mules for carriage of matter for the fire;
Of all which work Meriones, the Cretan sovereign's squire,
Was captain; and abroad they went. Wood-cutting tools they bore
Of all hands, and well-twisted cords. The mules marched all before.
Up hill, and down hill, overthwarts, and break-neck cliffs they passed;
But, when the fountful Ida's tops they scaled with utmost haste,
All fell upon the high-haired oaks, and down their curled brows
Fell bustling to the earth, and up went all the boles and boughs
Bound to the mules; and back again they parted the harsh way
Amongst them through the tangling shrubs, and long they thought the day
Till in the plain field all arrived, for all the woodmen bore
Logs on their necks; Meriones would have it so. The shore
At last they reached yet, and then down their carriages they cast,
And sat upon them, where the son of Peleus had placed
The ground for his great sepulchre, and for his friend's, in one.
They raised a huge pile,.and to arms went every Myrmidon,
Charged by Achilles; chariots and horse were harnessed,
Fighters and charioteers got up, and they the sad march led,
A cloud of infinite foot behind. In midst of all was borne
Patroclus' person by his peers. On him were all heads shorn,
Even till they covered him with curls. Next to him marched his friend
Embracing his cold neck all sad, since now he was to send
His dearest to his endless home. Arrived all where the wood
Was heaped for funeral, they set down. Apart Achilles stood,
And when enough wood was heaped on, he cut his golden hair,
Long kept for Sperchius the flood, in hope of safe repair
To Phthia by that river's pow'r; but now left hopeless thus,
Enraged and looking on the sea, he cried out: " Sperchius,
In vain my father's piety vowed, at my implored return
To my loved country, that these curls should on thy shores be shorn,
Besides a sacred hecatomb, and sacrifice beside
Of fifty wethers, at those founts, where men have edified
A lofty temple, and perfumed an altar to thy name.
There vowed he all these offerings; but fate prevents thy fame,
His hopes not suffering satisfied. And since I never more
Shall see my loved soil, my friend's hands shall to the Stygian shore
Convey these tresses." Thus he put in his friend's hands the hair;
And this bred fresh desire of moan; and in that sad affair
The sun had set amongst them all, had Thetis' son not spoke
Thus to Atrides : " King of men, thy aid I still invoke,
Since thy command all men still hear. Dismiss thy soldiers now,
And let them victual; they have mourned sufficient; 'tis we owe
The dead this honour; and with us let all the captains stay."
This heard, Atrides instantly the soldiers sent away;
The funeral officers remained, and heaped on matter still,
Till of an hundred foot about they made the funeral pile,
In whose hot height they cast the corse, and then they poured on tears.
Numbers of fat sheep, and like store of crooked-going steers,
They slew before the solemn fire; stripped off their hides and dressed.
Of which Achilles took the fat, and covered the deceased
From head to foot; and round about he made the officers pile
The beasts' naked bodies, vessels full of honey and of oil
Poured in them, laid upon a bier, and cast into the fire.
Four goodly horse, and of nine hounds two most in the desire
Of that great prince and trencher-fed; all fed that hungry flame.
Twelve Trojan princes last stood forth, young, and of toward fame,
All which, set on with wicked spirits, there struck he, there he slew,
And to the iron strength of fire their noble limbs he threw.
Then breathed his last sighs, and these words : " Again rejoice, my friend,
Even in the joyless depth of hell. Now give I complete end
To all my vows. Alone thy life sustained not violence,
Twelve Trojan princes wait on thee, and labour to incense
Thy glorious heap of funeral. Great Hector I'll excuse,
The dogs shall eat him." These high threats performed not their abuse :
Jove's daughter, Venus, took the guard of noble Hector's corse,
And kept the dogs off, night and day applying sovereign force
Of rosy balms, that to the dogs were horrible in taste,
And with which she the body filled. Renowned Apollo cast
A cloud from heaven, lest with the sun the nerves and lineaments
Might dry and putrefy. And now some Powers denied consents
To his solemnity; the Fire (for all the oily fuel
It had injected) would not burn; and then the loving Cruel
Studied for help, and, standing off, invoked the two fair Winds,
Zephyr and Boreas, to afford the rage of both their kinds
To aid his outrage. Precious gifts his earnest zeal did vow,
Poured from a golden bowl much wine, and prayed them both to blow,
That quickly his friend's corse might burn, and that heap's sturdy breast
Embrace consumption. Iris heard. The Winds were at a feast,
All in the court of Zephyrus, that boisterous blowing Air,
Gathered together. She that wears the thousand-coloured hair
Flew thither, standing in the porch. They, seeing her, all arose,
Called to her, every one desired she would awhile repose,
And eat with them. She answered: " No, no place of seat is here;
Retreat calls to the Ocean and ^Ethiopia, where
A hecatomb is offering now to heaven, and there must I
Partake the feast of sacrifice. I come to signify
That Thetis' son implores your aids, princes of North and West,
With vows of much fair sacrifice, if each will set his breast
Against his heap of funeral, and make it quickly burn;
Patroclus lies there, whose decease all the Achaians mourn."
She said, and parted; and out rushed, with an unmeasured roar,
Those two Winds, tumbling clouds in heaps, ushers to either's blore,
And instantly they reached the sea; up flew the waves; the gale
Was strong; reached fruitful Troy; and full upon the fire they fall.
The huge heap thundered. All night long from his choked breast they blew
A liberal flame up; and all night swift-foot Achilles threw
Wine from a golden bowl on earth, and steeped the soil in wiue,
Still calling on Patroclus' soul. No father could incline
More to a son most dear, nor more mourn at his burned bones,
Than did the great prince to his friend at his combustions,
Still creeping near and near the heap, still sighing, weeping still.
But when the Day-star looked abroad, and promised from his hill
Light, which the saffron Morn made good, and sprinkled on the seas,
Then languished the great pile, then sunk the flames, and then calm Peace
Turned back the rough Winds to their homes, the Thracian billow rings
Their high retreat, ruffled with cuffs of their triumphant wings.
Pelides then forsook the pile, and to his tired limb
Choosed place of rest, where laid, sweet sleep fell to his wish on him.
When all the king's guard, waiting then, perceiving will to rise
In that great session, hurried in, and oped again his eyes
&n
bsp; With tumult of their troop, and- haste. A little then he reared
His troubled person, sitting up, and this affair referred
To wished commandment of the kings : " Atrides, and the rest
Of our commanders general, vouchsafe me this request
Before your parting: Give in charge the quenching with black wine
Of this heap's relics, every brand the yellow fire made shine;
And then let search Patroclus' hones, distinguishing them well
As well ye may, they kept the midst, the rest at random fell
About th' extreme part of the pile. Men's bones and horses' mixed
Being found, I'll find an urn of gold t' enclose them, and betwixt
The air and them two kels of fat lay on them, aud to rest
Commit them, till mine own bones seal our love, my soul deceased.
The sepulchre I have not charged to make of too much state,
But of a model something mean, that you of younger fate,
When I am gone, may amplify with such a breadth and height
As fits your judgment and our worths." This charge received his weight
In all observance. First they quenched with sable wine the heap
As far as it had fed the flame. The ash fell wondrous deep,
In which his consorts, that his life religiously loved,
Searched, weeping, for his bones; which found, they conscionably proved
His will made to Aeacides, and what his love did add.
A golden vessel, double fat, contained them. All which, clad
In veils of linen, pure and rich, were solemnly conveyed
T' Achilles' tent. The platform then about the pile they laid
Of his fit sepulchre, and raised a heap of earth, and then
Offered departure. But the prince retained there still his men,
Employing them to fetch from fleet rich tripods for his games,
Caldrons, horse, mules, broad-headed beeves, bright steel, and brighter dames.
The best at horse-race he ordained a lady for his prize,
Generally praiseful, fair and young, and skilled in housewiferies
Of all kinds fitting; and withal, a trivet, that inclosed
Twenty-two measures' room, with ears. The next prize he proposed
Was, that which then had high respect, a mare of six years old,
Unhandled, horsed with a mule, and ready to have foaled.
The third game was a caldron, new, fair, bright, and could for size
Contain two measures. For the fourth, two talents' quantities
Of finest gold. The fifth game was a great new standing bowl,
To set down both ways. These brought in, Achilles then stood up,
And said : "Atrides and my lords, chief horsemen of our host,
These games expect ye. If myself should interpose my most
For our horse-race, I make no doubt that I should take again
These gifts proposed. Ye all know well of how divine a strain
My horse are, and how eminent. Of Neptune's gift they are
To Peleus, and of his to me. Myself then will not share
In gifts given others, nor my steeds breathe any spirit to shake
Their airy pasterns; so they mourn for their kind guider's sake,
Late lost, that used with humorous oil to slick their lofty manes.
Clear water having cleansed them first, and, his bane being their banes,
Those lofty manes now strew the earth, their heads held shaken down.
You then that trust in chariots, and hope with horse to crown
Your conquering temples, gird yourselves; now, fame and prize stretch for,
All that have spirits." This fired all. The first competitor
Was king Eumelus, whom the art of horsemanship did grace,
Son of Admetus. Next to him rose Diomed to the race,
That under reins ruled Trojan horse, of late forced from the son
Of lord Anchises, himself freed of near confusion
By Phoebus. Next to him set forth the yellow-headed king
Of Lacedaemon, Jove's high seed; and in his managing
Podargus and swift iEthe trod, steeds to the King of men;
iEthe given by Echepolus, the Anchisiaden,
A bribe to free him from the war resolved for Ilion;
So Delicacy feasted him, whom Jove bestowed upon
A mighty wealth; his dwelling was in broad Sicyone.
Old Nestor's son, Antilochus, was fourth for chivalry
In this contention; his fair horse were of the Pylian breed,
And his old father, coming near, informed him, for good speed,
With good race notes, in which himself could good instruction give :
“Antilochus, though young thou art, yet thy grave virtues live
Beloved of Neptune and of Jove. Their spirits have taught thee all
The art of horsemanship, for which the less thy merits fall
In need of doctrine. Well thy skill can wield a chariot
In all fit turnings, yet thy horse their slow feet handle not
As fits thy manage, which makes me cast doubts of thy success.
I well know all these are not seen in art of this address
More than thyself; their horses yet superior are to thine
For their parts, thine want speed to make discharge of a design
To please an artist. But go on, show but thy art and heart
At all points, and set them against their horses' heart and art;
Good judges will not see thee lose. A carpenter's desert
Stands more in cunning than in power. A pilot doth avert
His vessel from the rock and wrack, tost with the churlish winds,
By skill, not strength. So sorts it here; one charioteer that finds
Want of another's power in horse must in his own skill set
An overplus of that to that; and so the proof will get
Skill, that still rests within a man, more grace than pow'r without.
He that in horse and chariots trusts is often hurled about
This way and that, unhandsomely, all heaven wide of his end.
He, better skilled, that rules worse horse, will an observance bend
Right on the scope still of a race, bear near, know ever when to rein,
When give rein, as his foe before, well noted in his vein
Of manage and his steeds' estate, presents occasion.
I'll give thee instance now, as plain as if thou saw'st it done:
Here stands a dry stub of some tree a cubit from the ground
(Suppose the stub of oak or larch, either arc so sound
That neither rots with wet) two stones, white, mark you, white for view,
Parted on either side the stub; and these lay where they drew
The way into a strait; the race betwixt both lying clear.
Imagine them some monument of one long since tombed there,
Or that they had been lists of race for men of former years,
As now the lists Achilles sets may serve for charioteers
Many years hence. When near to these the race grows, then as right
Drive on them as thy eye can judge; then lay thy bridle's weight
Most of thy left side; thy right horse then switching, all thy throat,
Spent in encouragements, give him, and all the rein let float
About his shoulders, thy near horse will yet be he that gave
Thy skill the prize, and him rein so his head may touch the nave
Of thy left wheel; but then take care thou runn'st not on the stone
(With wrack of horse and chariot) which so thou bear'st upon.
Shipwrack within the haven avoid by all means; that will breed
Others delight and thee a shame. Be wise then, and take heed,
My loved son, get but to be first at turning in the course,
He lives not that can cote thee then, not if he back
ed the horse
The Gods bred, and Adrastus owed; divine Arion's speed
Could not outpace thee, or the horse Laomedon did breed,
Whose race is famous, and fed here." Thus said Neleides,
When all that could be said was said. And then Meriones
Set fifthly forth his fair-maned horse. All leaped to chariot;
And every man then for the start cast in his proper lot.
Achilles drew; Antilochus the lot set foremost forth;
Eumelus next; Atrides third; Meriones the fourth;
The fifth and last was Diomed, far first in excellence.
All stood in order, and the lists Achilles fixed far thence
In plain field; and a seat ordained fast by, in which he set
Renowned Phoenix, that in grace of Peleus was so great,
To see the race, and give a truth of all their passages.
All start together, scourged, and cried, and gave their business
Study and order. Through the field they held a winged pace.
Beneath the bosom of their steeds a dust so dimmed the race,
It stood above their heads in clouds, or like to storms amazed.
Manes flew like ensigns with the wind. The chariots sometimes grazed
And sometimes jumped up to the air; yet still sat fast the men,
Their spirits even panting in their breasts with fervour to obtain.
But when they turned to fleet again, then all men's skills were tried,
Theu stretched the pasterns of their steeds. Eumelus' horse in pride
Still bore their sovereign. After them came Diomed's coursers close,
Still apt to leap their chariot, and ready to repose
Upon the shoulders of their king their heads; his back even burned
With fire that from their nostrils flew; and then their lord had turned
The race for him, or given it doubt, if Phoebus had not smit
The scourge out of his hands, and tears of helpless wrath with it
From forth his eyes, to see his horse for want of scourge made slow,
And th' others, by Apollo's help, with much more swiftness go.
Apollo's spite Pallas discerned, and flew to Tydeus' son,
His scourge reached, and his horse made fresh. Then took her angry run
At king Eumelus, brake his gears", his mares on both sides flew,
His dra,ught-tree fell to earth, and him the tossed-up chariot threw
Down to the earth, his elbows torn, his forehead, all his face,
Struck at the centre, his speech lost. And then the turned race
Fell to Tydides; before all his conquering horse he drave,