Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Chariot and horse he station'd in the front;

  His numerous infantry, a strong reserve

  Right valiant, in the rear; the worst, and those

  In whom he trusted least, he drove between,

  That such through mere necessity might act.

  First to his charioteers he gave in charge

  Their duty; bade them rein their horses hard,

  Shunning confusion. Let no warrior, vain

  And overweening of his strength or skill,

  Start from his rank to dare the fight alone,

  Or fall behind it, weakening whom he leaves.

  And if, dismounted from his own, he climb

  Another's chariot, let him not affect

  Perverse the reins, but let him stand, his spear

  Advancing firm, far better so employ'd.

  Such was the discipline, in ancient times,

  Of our forefathers; by these rules they fought

  Successful, and laid many a city low.

  So counsell'd them the venerable Chief

  Long time expert in arms; him also saw

  King Agamemnon with delight, and said,

  Old Chief! ah how I wish, that thy firm heart

  Were but supported by as firm a knee!

  But time unhinges all. Oh that some youth

  Had thine old age, and thou wast young again!

  To whom the valiant Nestor thus replied.

  Atrides, I could also ardent wish

  That I were now robust as when I struck

  Brave Ereuthalion breathless to the ground!

  But never all their gifts the Gods confer

  On man at once; if then I had the force

  Of youth, I suffer now the effects of age.

  Yet ancient as I am, I will be seen

  Still mingling with the charioteers, still prompt

  To give them counsel; for to counsel youth

  Is the old warrior's province. Let the green

  In years, my juniors, unimpaired by time,

  Push with the lance, for they have strength to boast.

  So he, whom Agamemnon joyful heard,

  And passing thence, the son of Peteos found

  Menestheus, foremost in equestrian fame,

  Among the brave Athenians; near to him

  Ulysses held his station, and at hand

  The Cephallenians stood, hardy and bold;

  For rumor none of the approaching fight

  Them yet had reach'd, so recent had the stir

  Arisen in either host; they, therefore, watch'd

  Till the example of some other band

  Marching, should prompt them to begin the fight,

  But Agamemnon, thus, the King of men

  Them seeing, sudden and severe reproved.

  Menestheus, son of Peteos prince renown'd,

  And thou, deviser of all evil wiles!

  Adept in artifice! why stand ye here

  Appall'd? why wait ye on this distant spot

  'Till others move? I might expect from you

  More readiness to meet the burning war,

  Whom foremost I invite of all to share

  The banquet, when the Princes feast with me.

  There ye are prompt; ye find it pleasant there

  To eat your savory food, and quaff your wine

  Delicious 'till satiety ensue;

  But here you could be well content to stand

  Spectators only, while ten Grecian troops

  Should wage before you the wide-wasting war.

  To whom Ulysses, with resentful tone

  Dark-frowning, thus replied. What words are these

  Which have escaped thy lips; and for what cause,

  Atrides, hast thou call'd me slow to fight?

  When we of Greece shall in sharp contest clash

  With you steed-tamer Trojans, mark me then;

  Then thou shalt see (if the concerns of war

  So nearly touch thee, and thou so incline)

  The father of Telemachus, engaged

  Among the foremost Trojans. But thy speech

  Was light as is the wind, and rashly made.

  When him thus moved he saw, the monarch smiled

  Complacent, and in gentler terms replied.

  Laërtes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!

  Short reprimand and exhortation short

  Suffice for thee, nor did I purpose more.

  For I have known thee long, that thou art one

  Of kindest nature, and so much my friend

  That we have both one heart. Go therefore thou,

  Lead on, and if a word have fallen amiss,

  We will hereafter mend it, and may heaven

  Obliterate in thine heart its whole effect!

  He ceased, and ranging still along the line,

  The son of Tydeus, Diomede, perceived,

  Heroic Chief, by chariots all around

  Environ'd, and by steeds, at side of whom

  Stood Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus.

  Him also, Agamemnon, King of men,

  In accents of asperity reproved.

  Ah, son of Tydeus, Chief of dauntless heart

  And of equestrian fame! why standest thou

  Appall'd, and peering through the walks of war?

  So did not Tydeus. In the foremost fight

  His favorite station was, as they affirm

  Who witness'd his exploits; I never saw

  Or met him, but by popular report

  He was the bravest warrior of his day.

  Yet came he once, but not in hostile sort,

  To fair Mycenæ, by the godlike prince

  Attended, Polynices, at what time

  The host was called together, and the siege

  Was purposed of the sacred city Thebes.

  Earnest they sued for an auxiliar band,

  Which we had gladly granted, but that Jove

  By unpropitious tokens interfered.

  So forth they went, and on the reedy banks

  Arriving of Asopus, there thy sire

  By designation of the Greeks was sent

  Ambassador, and enter'd Thebes. He found

  In Eteocles' palace numerous guests,

  The sons of Cadmus feasting, among whom,

  Although a solitary stranger, stood

  Thy father without fear, and challenged forth

  Their best to cope with him in manly games.

  Them Tydeus vanquish'd easily, such aid

  Pallas vouchsafed him. Then the spur-arm'd race

  Of Cadmus was incensed, and fifty youths

  In ambush close expected his return.

  Them, Lycophontes obstinate in fight,

  Son of Autophonus, and Mæon, son

  Of Hæmon, Chief of godlike stature, led.

  Those also Tydeus slew; Mæon except,

  (Whom, warned from heaven, he spared, and sent him home

  With tidings of the rest) he slew them all.

  Such was Ætolian Tydeus; who begat

  A son in speech his better, not in arms.

  He ended, and his sovereign's awful voice

  Tydides reverencing, nought replied;

  But thus the son of glorious Capaneus.

  Atrides, conscious of the truth, speak truth.

  We with our sires compared, superior praise

  Claim justly. We, confiding in the aid

  Of Jove, and in propitious signs from heaven,

  Led to the city consecrate to Mars

  Our little host, inferior far to theirs,

  And took seven-gated Thebes, under whose walls

  Our fathers by their own imprudence fell.

  Their glory, then, match never more with ours.

  He spake, whom with a frowning brow the brave

  Tydides answer'd. Sthenelus, my friend!

  I give thee counsel. Mark it. Hold thy peace.

  If Agamemnon, who hath charge of all,

  Excite his well-appointed host to war,


  He hath no blame from me. For should the Greeks

  (Her people vanquished) win imperial Troy,

  The glory shall be his; or, if his host

  O'erpower'd in battle perish, his the shame.

  Come, therefore; be it ours to rouse at once

  To action all the fury of our might.

  He said, and from his chariot to the plain

  Leap'd ardent; rang the armor on the breast

  Of the advancing Chief; the boldest heart

  Had felt emotion, startled at the sound.

  As when the waves by Zephyrus up-heaved

  Crowd fast toward some sounding shore, at first,

  On the broad bosom of the deep their heads

  They curl on high, then breaking on the land

  Thunder, and o'er the rocks that breast the flood

  Borne turgid, scatter far the showery spray;

  So moved the Greeks successive, rank by rank,

  And phalanx after phalanx, every Chief

  His loud command proclaiming, while the rest,

  As voice in all those thousands none had been

  Heard mute; and, in resplendent armor clad,

  With martial order terrible advanced.

  Not so the Trojans came. As sheep, the flock

  Of some rich man, by thousands in his court

  Penn'd close at milking time, incessant bleat,

  Loud answering all their bleating lambs without,

  Such din from Ilium's wide-spread host arose.

  Nor was their shout, nor was their accent one,

  But mingled languages were heard of men

  From various climes. These Mars to battle roused,

  Those Pallas azure-eyed; nor Terror thence

  Nor Flight was absent, nor insatiate Strife,

  Sister and mate of homicidal Mars,

  Who small at first, but swift to grow, from earth

  Her towering crest lifts gradual to the skies.

  She, foe alike to both, the brands dispersed

  Of burning hate between them, and the woes

  Enhanced of battle wheresoe'er she pass'd.

  And now the battle join'd. Shield clash'd with shield

  And spear with spear, conflicting corselets rang,

  Boss'd bucklers met, and tumult wild arose.

  Then, many a yell was heard, and many a shout

  Loud intermix'd, the slayer o'er the maim'd

  Exulting, and the field was drench'd with blood.

  As when two winter torrents rolling down

  The mountains, shoot their floods through gulleys huge

  Into one gulf below, station'd remote

  The shepherd in the uplands hears the roar;

  Such was the thunder of the mingling hosts.

  And first, Antilochus a Trojan Chief

  Slew Echepolus, from Thalysias sprung,

  Contending valiant in the van of Troy.

  Him smiting on his crested casque, he drove

  The brazen lance into his front, and pierced

  The bones within; night overspread his eyes,

  And in fierce battle, like a tower, he fell.

  Him fallen by both feet Calchodon's son

  Seized, royal Elephenor, leader brave

  Of the Abantes, and in haste to strip

  His armor, drew him from the fight aside.

  But short was that attempt. Him so employ'd

  Dauntless Agenor mark'd, and as he stoop'd,

  In his unshielded flank a pointed spear

  Implanted deep; he languid sunk and died.

  So Elephenor fell, for whom arose

  Sharp conflict; Greeks and Trojans mutual flew

  Like wolves to battle, and man grappled man.

  Then Telamonian Ajax, in his prime

  Of youthful vigor Simöisius slew,

  Son of Anthemion. Him on Simoïs' banks

  His mother bore, when with her parents once

  She came from Ida down to view the flocks,

  And thence they named him; but his parents'

  He lived not to requite, in early youth

  Slain by the spear of Ajax famed in arms.

  For him advancing Ajax at the pap

  Wounded; right through his shoulder driven the point

  Stood forth behind; he fell, and press'd the dust.

  So in some spacious marsh the poplar falls

  Smooth-skinn'd, with boughs unladen save aloft;

  Some chariot-builder with his axe the trunk

  Severs, that he may warp it to a wheel

  Of shapely form; meantime exposed it lies

  To parching airs beside the running stream;

  Such Simöisius seemed, Anthemion's son,

  Whom noble Ajax slew. But soon at him

  Antiphus, son of Priam, bright in arms,

  Hurl'd through the multitude his pointed spear.

  He erred from Ajax, but he pierced the groin

  Of Leucus, valiant warrior of the band

  Led by Ulysses. He the body dragg'd

  Apart, but fell beside it, and let fall,

  Breathless himself, the burthen from his hand.

  Then burn'd Ulysses' wrath for Leucus slain,

  And through the foremost combatants, array'd

  In dazzling arms, he rush'd. Full near he stood,

  And, looking keen around him, hurl'd a lance.

  Back fell the Trojans from before the face

  Dispersed of great Ulysses. Not in vain

  His weapon flew, but on the field outstretch'd

  A spurious son of Priam, from the shores

  Call'd of Abydus famed for fleetest mares,

  Democoon; him, for Leucus' sake enraged,

  Ulysses through both temples with his spear

  Transpierced. The night of death hung on his eyes,

  And sounding on his batter'd arms he fell.

  Then Hector and the van of Troy retired;

  Loud shout the Grecians; these draw off the dead,

  Those onward march amain, and from the heights

  Of Pergamus Apollo looking down

  In anger, to the Trojans called aloud.

  Turn, turn, ye Trojans! face your Grecian foes.

  They, like yourselves, are vulnerable flesh,

  Not adamant or steel. Your direst dread

  Achilles, son of Thetis radiant-hair'd,

  Fights not, but sullen in his fleet abides.

  Such from the citadel was heard the voice

  Of dread Apollo. But Minerva ranged

  Meantime, Tritonian progeny of Jove,

  The Grecians, rousing whom she saw remiss.

  Then Amarynceus' son, Diores, felt

  The force of fate, bruised by a rugged rock

  At his right heel, which Pirus, Thracian Chief,

  The son of Imbrasus of Ænos, threw.

  Bones and both tendons in its fall the mass

  Enormous crush'd. He, stretch'd in dust supine,

  With palms outspread toward his warrior friends

  Lay gasping life away. But he who gave

  The fatal blow, Pirus, advancing, urged

  Into his navel a keen lance, and shed

  His bowels forth; then, darkness veil'd his eyes.

  Nor Pirus long survived; him through the breast

  Above the pap, Ætolian Thoas pierced,

  And in his lungs set fast the quivering spear.

  Then Thoas swift approach'd, pluck'd from the wound

  His stormy spear, and with his falchion bright

  Gashing his middle belly, stretch'd him dead.

  Yet stripp'd he not the slain, whom with long spears

  His Thracians hairy-scalp'd so round about

  Encompassed, that though bold and large of limb

  Were Thoas, from before them him they thrust

  Staggering and reeling in his forced retreat.

  They therefore in the dust, the Epean Chief

  Diores, and the Thracian, Pirus lay

 
; Stretch'd side by side, with numerous slain around.

  Then had Minerva led through all that field

  Some warrior yet unhurt, him sheltering safe

  From all annoyance dread of dart or spear,

  No cause of blame in either had he found

  That day, so many Greeks and Trojans press'd,

  Extended side by side, the dusty plain.

  * * *

  BOOK V.

  * * *

  ARGUMENT OF THE FIFTH BOOK.

  Diomede is extraordinarily distinguished. He kills Pandarus, who had violated the truce, and wounds first Venus and then Mars.

  * * *

  BOOK V.

  Then Athenæan Pallas on the son

  Of Tydeus, Diomede, new force conferr'd

  And daring courage, that the Argives all

  He might surpass, and deathless fame achieve.

  Fires on his helmet and his shield around

  She kindled, bright and steady as the star

  Autumnal, which in Ocean newly bathed

  Assumes fresh beauty; with such glorious beams

  His head encircling and his shoulders broad,

  She urged him forth into the thickest fight.

  There lived a man in Troy, Dares his name,

  The priest of Vulcan; rich he was and good,

  The father of two sons, Idæus this,

  That, Phegeus call'd; accomplish'd warriors both.

  These, issuing from their phalanx, push'd direct

  Their steeds at Diomede, who fought on foot.

  When now small interval was left between,

  First Phegeus his long-shadow'd spear dismiss'd;

  But over Diomede's left shoulder pass'd

  The point, innocuous. Then his splendid lance

  Tydides hurl'd; nor ineffectual flew

  The weapon from his hand, but Phegeus pierced

  His paps between, and forced him to the ground.

  At once, his sumptuous chariot left, down leap'd

  Idæsus, wanting courage to defend

  His brother slain; nor had he scaped himself

  His louring fate, but Vulcan, to preserve

  His ancient priest from unmixt sorrow, snatch'd

  The fugitive in darkness wrapt, away.

  Then brave Tydides, driving off the steeds,

  Consign'd them to his fellow-warriors' care,

  That they might lead them down into the fleet.

  The valiant Trojans, when they saw the sons

  Of Dares, one beside his chariot slain,

  And one by flight preserved, through all their host

  Felt consternation. Then Minerva seized

  The hand of fiery Mars, and thus she spake.

  Gore-tainted homicide, town-battering Mars!

  Leave we the Trojans and the Greeks to wage