Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  With his protruded spear her gentle hand

  He wounded, piercing through her thin attire

  Ambrosial, by themselves the graces wrought,

  Her inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm.

  Blood follow'd, but immortal; ichor pure,

  Such as the blest inhabitants of heaven

  May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not

  Man's food, nor slake as he with sable wine

  Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt.

  She, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son,

  And Phœbus, in impenetrable clouds

  Him hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek

  Should pierce his bosom, caught him swift away.

  Then shouted brave Tydides after her —

  Depart, Jove's daughter! fly the bloody field.

  Is't not enough that thou beguilest the hearts

  Of feeble women? If thou dare intrude

  Again into the war, war's very name

  Shall make thee shudder, wheresoever heard.

  He said, and Venus with excess of pain

  Bewilder'd went; but Iris tempest-wing'd

  Forth led her through the multitude, oppress'd

  With anguish, her white wrist to livid changed.

  They came where Mars far on the left retired

  Of battle sat, his horses and his spear

  In darkness veil'd. Before her brother's knees

  She fell, and with entreaties urgent sought

  The succor of his coursers golden-rein'd.

  Save me, my brother! Pity me! Thy steeds

  Give me, that they may bear me to the heights

  Olympian, seat of the immortal Gods!

  Oh! I am wounded deep; a mortal man

  Hath done it, Diomede; nor would he fear

  This day in fight the Sire himself of all.

  Then Mars his coursers gold-caparison'd

  Resign'd to Venus; she, with countenance sad,

  The chariot climb'd, and Iris at her side

  The bright reins seizing lash'd the ready steeds.

  Soon as the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods,

  They reach'd, wing-footed Iris loosing quick

  The coursers, gave them large whereon to browse

  Ambrosial food; but Venus on the knees

  Sank of Dione, who with folded arms

  Maternal, to her bosom straining close

  Her daughter, stroked her cheek, and thus inquired.

  My darling child! who? which of all the Gods

  Hath rashly done such violence to thee

  As if convicted of some open wrong?

  Her then the Goddess of love-kindling smiles

  Venus thus answer'd; Diomede the proud,

  Audacious Diomede; he gave the wound,

  For that I stole Æneas from the fight

  My son of all mankind my most beloved;

  Nor is it now the war of Greece with Troy,

  But of the Grecians with the Gods themselves.

  Then thus Dione, Goddess all divine.

  My child! how hard soe'er thy sufferings seem

  Endure them patiently. Full many a wrong

  From human hands profane the Gods endure,

  And many a painful stroke, mankind from ours.

  Mars once endured much wrong, when on a time

  Him Otus bound and Ephialtes fast,

  Sons of Alöeus, and full thirteen moons

  In brazen thraldom held him. There, at length,

  The fierce blood-nourished Mars had pined away,

  But that Eëribœa, loveliest nymph,

  His step-mother, in happy hour disclosed

  To Mercury the story of his wrongs;

  He stole the prisoner forth, but with his woes

  Already worn, languid and fetter-gall'd.

  Nor Juno less endured, when erst the bold

  Son of Amphytrion with tridental shaft

  Her bosom pierced; she then the misery felt

  Of irremediable pain severe.

  Nor suffer'd Pluto less, of all the Gods

  Gigantic most, by the same son of Jove

  Alcides, at the portals of the dead

  Transfix'd and fill'd with anguish; he the house

  Of Jove and the Olympian summit sought

  Dejected, torture-stung, for sore the shaft

  Oppress'd him, into his huge shoulder driven.

  But Pæon him not liable to death

  With unction smooth of salutiferous balms

  Heal'd soon. Presumptuous, sacrilegious man!

  Careless what dire enormities he wrought,

  Who bent his bow against the powers of heaven!

  But blue-eyed Pallas instigated him

  By whom thou bleed'st. Infatuate! he forgets

  That whoso turns against the Gods his arm

  Lives never long; he never, safe escaped

  From furious fight, the lisp'd caresses hears

  Of his own infants prattling at his knees.

  Let therefore Diomede beware, lest strong

  And valiant as he is, he chance to meet

  Some mightier foe than thou, and lest his wife,

  Daughter of King Adrastus, the discrete

  Ægialea, from portentous dreams

  Upstarting, call her family to wail

  Her first-espoused, Achaia's proudest boast,

  Diomede, whom she must behold no more.

  She said, and from her wrist with both hands wiped

  The trickling ichor; the effectual touch

  Divine chased all her pains, and she was heal'd.

  Them Juno mark'd and Pallas, and with speech

  Sarcastic pointed at Saturnian Jove

  To vex him, blue-eyed Pallas thus began.

  Eternal father! may I speak my thought,

  And not incense thee, Jove? I can but judge

  That Venus, while she coax'd some Grecian fair

  To accompany the Trojans whom she loves

  With such extravagance, hath heedless stroked

  Her golden clasps, and scratch'd her lily hand.

  So she; then smiled the sire of Gods and men,

  And calling golden Venus, her bespake.

  War and the tented field, my beauteous child,

  Are not for thee. Thou rather shouldst be found

  In scenes of matrimonial bliss. The toils

  Of war to Pallas and to Mars belong.

  Thus they in heaven. But Diomede the while

  Sprang on Æneas, conscious of the God

  Whose hand o'ershadow'd him, yet even him

  Regarding lightly; for he burn'd to slay

  Æneas, and to seize his glorious arms.

  Thrice then he sprang impetuous to the deed,

  And thrice Apollo with his radiant shield

  Repulsed him. But when ardent as a God

  The fourth time he advanced, with thundering-voice

  Him thus the Archer of the skies rebuked.

  Think, and retire, Tydides! nor affect

  Equality with Gods; for not the same

  Our nature is and theirs who tread the ground.

  He spake, and Diomede a step retired,

  Not more; the anger of the Archer-God

  Declining slow, and with a sullen awe.

  Then Phœbus, far from all the warrior throng

  To his own shrine the sacred dome beneath

  Of Pergamus, Æneas bore; there him

  Latona and shaft-arm'd Diana heal'd

  And glorified within their spacious fane.

  Meantime the Archer of the silver bow

  A visionary form prepared; it seem'd

  Himself Æneas, and was arm'd as he.

  At once, in contest for that airy form,

  Grecians and Trojans on each other's breasts

  The bull-hide buckler batter'd and light targe.

  Then thus Apollo to the warrior God.

  Gore-tainted homicide, town-batterer Mars!
<
br />   Wilt thou not meet and from the fight withdraw

  This man Tydides, now so fiery grown

  That he would even cope with Jove himself?

  First Venus' hand he wounded, and assail'd

  Impetuous as a God, next, even me.

  He ceased, and on the topmost turret sat

  Of Pergamus. Then all-destroyer Mars

  Ranging the Trojan host, rank after rank

  Exhorted loud, and in the form assumed

  Of Acamas the Thracian leader bold,

  The godlike sons of Priam thus harangued.

  Ye sons of Priam, monarch Jove-beloved!

  How long permit ye your Achaian foes

  To slay the people? — till the battle rage

  (Push'd home to Ilium) at her solid gates?

  Behold — a Chief disabled lies, than whom

  We reverence not even Hector more,

  Æneas; fly, save from the roaring storm

  The noble Anchisiades your friend.

  He said; then every heart for battle glow'd;

  And thus Sarpedon with rebuke severe

  Upbraiding generous Hector, stern began.

  Where is thy courage, Hector? for thou once

  Hadst courage. Is it fled? In other days

  Thy boast hath been that without native troops

  Or foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself

  Alone, were guard sufficient for the town.

  But none of all thy kindred now appears;

  I can discover none; they stand aloof

  Quaking, as dogs that hear the lion's roar.

  We bear the stress, who are but Troy's allies;

  Myself am such, and from afar I came;

  For Lycia lies far distant on the banks

  Of the deep-eddied Xanthus. There a wife

  I left and infant son, both dear to me,

  With plenteous wealth, the wish of all who want.

  Yet urge I still my Lycians, and am prompt

  Myself to fight, although possessing here

  Nought that the Greeks can carry or drive hence.

  But there stand'st thou, neither employed thyself,

  Nor moving others to an active part

  For all their dearest pledges. Oh beware!

  Lest, as with meshes of an ample net,

  At one huge draught the Grecians sweep you all,

  And desolate at once your populous Troy!

  By day, by night, thoughts such as these should still

  Thy conduct influence, and from Chief to Chief

  Of the allies should send thee, praying each

  To make firm stand, all bickerings put away.

  So spake Sarpedon, and his reprimand

  Stung Hector; instant to the ground he leap'd

  All arm'd, and shaking his bright spears his host

  Ranged in all quarters animating loud

  His legions, and rekindling horrid war.

  Then, rolling back, the powers of Troy opposed

  Once more the Grecians, whom the Grecians dense

  Expected, unretreating, void of fear.

  As flies the chaff wide scatter'd by the wind

  O'er all the consecrated floor, what time

  Ripe Ceres with brisk airs her golden grain

  Ventilates, whitening with its husk the ground;

  So grew the Achaians white, a dusty cloud

  Descending on their arms, which steeds with steeds

  Again to battle mingling, with their hoofs

  Up-stamp'd into the brazen vault of heaven;

  For now the charioteers turn'd all to fight.

  Host toward host with full collected force

  They moved direct. Then Mars through all the field

  Took wide his range, and overhung the war

  With night, in aid of Troy, at the command

  Of Phœbus of the golden sword; for he

  Perceiving Pallas from the field withdrawn,

  Patroness of the Greeks, had Mars enjoin'd

  To rouse the spirit of the Trojan host.

  Meantime Apollo from his unctuous shrine

  Sent forth restored and with new force inspired

  Æneas. He amidst his warriors stood,

  Who him with joy beheld still living, heal'd,

  And all his strength possessing unimpair'd.

  Yet no man ask'd him aught. No leisure now

  For question was; far other thoughts had they;

  Such toils the archer of the silver bow,

  Wide-slaughtering Mars, and Discord as at first

  Raging implacable, for them prepared.

  Ulysses, either Ajax, Diomede —

  These roused the Greeks to battle, who themselves

  The force fear'd nothing, or the shouts of Troy,

  But steadfast stood, like clouds by Jove amass'd

  On lofty mountains, while the fury sleeps

  Of Boreas, and of all the stormy winds

  Shrill-voiced, that chase the vapors when they blow,

  So stood the Greeks, expecting firm the approach

  Of Ilium's powers, and neither fled nor fear'd.

  Then Agamemnon the embattled host

  On all sides ranging, cheer'd them. Now, he cried,

  Be steadfast, fellow warriors, now be men!

  Hold fast a sense of honor. More escape

  Of men who fear disgrace, than fall in fight,

  While dastards forfeit life and glory both.

  He said, and hurl'd his spear. He pierced a friend

  Of brave Æneas, warring in the van,

  Deicöon son of Pergasus, in Troy

  Not less esteem'd than Priam's sons themselves,

  Such was his fame in foremost fight acquired.

  Him Agamemnon on his buckler smote,

  Nor stayed the weapon there, but through his belt

  His bowels enter'd, and with hideous clang

  And outcry of his batter'd arms he fell.

  Æneas next two mightiest warriors slew,

  Sons of Diocles, of a wealthy sire,

  Whose house magnificent in Phæræ stood,

  Orsilochus and Crethon. Their descent

  From broad-stream'd Alpheus, Pylian flood, they drew.

  Alpheus begat Orsilochus, a prince

  Of numerous powers. Orsilochus begat

  Warlike Diodes. From Diodes sprang

  Twins, Crethon and Orsilochus, alike

  Valiant, and skilful in all forms of war.

  Their boyish prime scarce past, they, with the Greeks

  Embarking, in their sable ships had sail'd

  To steed-fam'd Ilium; just revenge they sought

  For Atreus' sons, but perished first themselves.

  As two young lions, in the deep recess

  Of some dark forest on the mountain's brow

  Late nourished by their dam, forth-issuing, seize

  The fatted flocks and kine, both folds and stalls

  Wasting rapacious, till, at length, themselves

  Deep-wounded perish by the hand of man,

  So they, both vanquish'd by Æneas, fell,

  And like two lofty pines uprooted, lay.

  Them fallen in battle Menelaus saw

  With pity moved; radiant in arms he shook

  His brazen spear, and strode into the van.

  Mars urged him furious on, conceiving hope

  Of his death also by Æneas' hand.

  But him the son of generous Nestor mark'd

  Antilochus, and to the foremost fight

  Flew also, fearing lest some dire mischance

  The Prince befalling, at one fatal stroke

  Should frustrate all the labors of the Greeks.

  They, hand to hand, and spear to spear opposed,

  Stood threatening dreadful onset, when beside

  The Spartan chief Antilochus appear'd.

  Æneas, at the sight of two combined,

  Stood not, although intrepid. They the dead

  Thence drawing far in
to the Grecian host

  To their associates gave the hapless pair,

  Then, both returning, fought in front again.

  Next, fierce as Mars, Pylæmenes they slew,

  Prince of the shielded band magnanimous

  Of Paphlagonia. Him Atrides kill'd

  Spear-practised Menelaus, with a lance

  His throat transpiercing while erect he rode.

  Then, while his charioteer, Mydon the brave,

  Son of Atymnias, turn'd his steeds to flight,

  Full on his elbow-point Antilochus,

  The son of Nestor, dash'd him with a stone.

  The slack reins, white as ivory, forsook

  His torpid hand and trail'd the dust. At once

  Forth sprang Antilochus, and with his sword

  Hew'd deep his temples. On his head he pitch'd

  Panting, and on his shoulders in the sand

  (For in deep sand he fell) stood long erect,

  Till his own coursers spread him in the dust;

  The son of Nestor seized, and with his scourge

  Drove them afar into the host of Greece.

  Them Hector through the ranks espying, flew

  With clamor loud to meet them; after whom

  Advanced in phalanx firm the powers of Troy,

  Mars led them, with Enyo terror-clad;

  She by the maddening tumult of the fight

  Attended, he, with his enormous spear

  in both hands brandish'd, stalking now in front

  Of Hector, and now following his steps.

  Him Diomede the bold discerning, felt

  Himself no small dismay; and as a man

  Wandering he knows not whither, far from home,

  If chance a rapid torrent to the sea

  Borne headlong thwart his course, the foaming flood

  Obstreperous views awhile, then quick retires,

  So he, and his attendants thus bespake.

  How oft, my countrymen! have we admired

  The noble Hector, skillful at the spear

  And unappall'd in fight? but still hath he

  Some God his guard, and even now I view

  In human form Mars moving at his side.

  Ye, then, with faces to the Trojans turn'd,

  Ceaseless retire, and war not with the Gods.

  He ended; and the Trojans now approach'd.

  Then two bold warriors in one chariot borne,

  By valiant Hector died, Menesthes one,

  And one, Anchialus. Them fallen in fight

  Ajax the vast, touch'd with compassion saw;

  Within small space he stood, his glittering spear

  Dismiss'd, and pierced Amphius. Son was he

  Of Selagus, and Pæsus was his home,

  Where opulent he dwelt, but by his fate

  Was led to fight for Priam and his sons.

  Him Telamonian Ajax through his belt

  Wounded, and in his nether bowels deep

  Fix'd his long-shadow'd spear. Sounding he fell.