Complete Works of Homer

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Complete Works of Homer Page 135

by Homer


  Illustrious Ajax running to the slain

  Prepared to strip his arms, but him a shower

  Of glittering-weapons keen from Trojan hands

  Assail'd, and numerous his broad shield received.

  He, on the body planting firm his heel,

  Forth drew the polish'd spear, but his bright arms

  Took not, by darts thick-flying sore annoy'd,

  Nor fear'd he little lest his haughty foes,

  Spear-arm'd and bold, should compass him around;

  Him, therefore, valiant though he were and huge,

  They push'd before them. Staggering he retired.

  Thus toil'd both hosts in that laborious field.

  And now his ruthless destiny impell'd

  Tlepolemus, Alcides' son, a Chief

  Dauntless and huge, against a godlike foe

  Sarpedon. They approaching face to face

  Stood, son and grandson of high-thundering Jove,

  And, haughty, thus Tlepolemus began.

  Sarpedon, leader of the Lycian host,

  Thou trembler! thee what cause could hither urge

  A man unskill'd in arms? They falsely speak

  Who call thee son of Ægis-bearing Jove,

  So far below their might thou fall'st who sprang

  From Jove in days of old. What says report

  Of Hercules (for him I boast my sire)

  All-daring hero with a lion's heart?

  With six ships only, and with followers few,

  He for the horses of Laomedon

  Lay'd Troy in dust, and widow'd all her streets.

  But thou art base, and thy diminish'd powers

  Perish around thee; think not that thou earnest

  For Ilium's good, but rather, whatsoe'er

  Thy force in fight, to find, subdued by me,

  A sure dismission to the gates of hell.

  To whom the leader of the Lycian band.

  Tlepolemus! he ransack'd sacred Troy,

  As thou hast said, but for her monarch's fault

  Laomedon, who him with language harsh

  Requited ill for benefits received,

  Nor would the steeds surrender, seeking which

  He voyaged from afar. But thou shalt take

  Thy bloody doom from this victorious arm,

  And, vanquish'd by my spear, shalt yield thy fame

  To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown'd.

  So spake Sarpedon, and his ashen beam

  Tlepolemus upraised. Both hurl'd at once

  Their quivering spears. Sarpedon's through the neck

  Pass'd of Tlepolemus, and show'd beyond

  Its ruthless point; thick darkness veil'd his eyes.

  Tlepolemus with his long lance the thigh

  Pierced of Sarpedon; sheer into his bone

  He pierced him, but Sarpedon's father, Jove,

  Him rescued even on the verge of fate.

  His noble friends conducted from the field

  The godlike Lycian, trailing as he went

  The pendent spear, none thinking to extract

  For his relief the weapon from his thigh,

  Through eagerness of haste to bear him thence.

  On the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail'd

  Bore off Tlepolemus. Ulysses fill'd

  With earnest thoughts tumultuous them observed,

  Danger-defying Chief! Doubtful he stood

  Or to pursue at once the Thunderer's son

  Sarpedon, or to take more Lycian lives.

  But not for brave Ulysses had his fate

  That praise reserved, that he should slay the son

  Renown'd of Jove; therefore his wavering mind

  Minerva bent against the Lycian band.

  Then Cœranus, Alastor, Chromius fell,

  Alcander, Halius, Prytanis, and brave

  Noëmon; nor had these sufficed the Chief

  Of Ithaca, but Lycians more had fallen,

  Had not crest-tossing Hector huge perceived

  The havoc; radiant to the van he flew,

  Filling with dread the Grecians; his approach

  Sarpedon, son of Jove, joyful beheld,

  And piteous thus address'd him as he came.

  Ah, leave not me, Priamides! a prey

  To Grecian hands, but in your city, at least,

  Grant me to die: since hither, doom'd, I came

  Never to gratify with my return

  To Lycia, my loved spouse, or infant child.

  He spake; but Hector unreplying pass'd

  Impetuous, ardent to repulse the Greeks

  That moment, and to drench his sword in blood.

  Then, under shelter of a spreading beech

  Sacred to Jove, his noble followers placed

  The godlike Chief Sarpedon, where his friend

  Illustrious Pelagon, the ashen spear

  Extracted. Sightless, of all thought bereft,

  He sank, but soon revived, by breathing airs

  Refresh'd, that fann'd him gently from the North.

  Meantime the Argives, although press'd alike

  By Mars himself and Hector brazen-arm'd,

  Neither to flight inclined, nor yet advanced

  To battle, but inform'd that Mars the fight

  Waged on the side of Ilium, slow retired.

  Whom first, whom last slew then the mighty son

  Of Priam, Hector, and the brazen Mars!

  First godlike Teuthras, an equestrian Chief,

  Orestes, Trechus of Ætolian race,

  Œnomaüs, Helenus from Œnops' sprung,

  And brisk in fight Oresbius; rich was he,

  And covetous of more; in Hyla dwelt

  Fast by the lake Cephissus, where abode

  Bœotian Princes numerous, rich themselves

  And rulers of a people wealth-renown'd.

  But Juno, such dread slaughter of the Greeks

  Noting, thus, ardent, to Minerva spake.

  Daughter of Jove invincible! Our word

  That Troy shall perish, hath been given in vain

  To Menelaus, if we suffer Mars

  To ravage longer uncontrol'd. The time

  Urges, and need appears that we ourselves

  Now call to mind the fury of our might.

  She spake; nor blue-eyed Pallas not complied.

  Then Juno, Goddess dread, from Saturn sprung,

  Her coursers gold-caparison'd prepared

  Impatient. Hebe to the chariot roll'd

  The brazen wheels, and joined them to the smooth

  Steel axle; twice four spokes divided each

  Shot from the centre to the verge. The verge

  Was gold by fellies of eternal brass

  Guarded, a dazzling show! The shining naves

  Were silver; silver cords and cords of gold

  The seat upbore; two crescents blazed in front.

  The pole was argent all, to which she bound

  The golden yoke, and in their place disposed

  The breast-bands incorruptible of gold;

  But Juno to the yoke, herself, the steeds

  Led forth, on fire to reach the dreadful field.

  Meantime, Minerva, progeny of Jove,

  On the adamantine floor of his abode

  Let fall profuse her variegated robe,

  Labor of her own hands. She first put on

  The corselet of the cloud-assembler God,

  Then arm'd her for the field of wo complete.

  She charged her shoulder with the dreadful shield

  The shaggy Ægis, border'd thick around

  With terror; there was Discord, Prowess there,

  There hot Pursuit, and there the feature grim

  Of Gorgon, dire Deformity, a sign

  Oft borne portentous on the arm of Jove.

  Her golden helm, whose concave had sufficed

  The legions of an hundred cities, rough

  With warlike ornament superb, she fix'd

  On her immortal
head. Thus arm'd, she rose

  Into the flaming chariot, and her spear

  Seized ponderous, huge, with which the Goddess sprung

  From an Almighty father, levels ranks

  Of heroes, against whom her anger burns.

  Juno with lifted lash urged quick the steeds;

  At her approach, spontaneous roar'd the wide-

  Unfolding gates of heaven; the heavenly gates

  Kept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge

  Of the Olympian summit appertains,

  And of the boundless ether, back to roll,

  And to replace the cloudy barrier dense.

  Spurr'd through the portal flew the rapid steeds;

  Apart from all, and seated on the point

  Superior of the cloven mount, they found

  The Thunderer. Juno the white-arm'd her steeds

  There stay'd, and thus the Goddess, ere she pass'd,

  Question'd the son of Saturn, Jove supreme.

  Jove, Father, seest thou, and art not incensed,

  These ravages of Mars? Oh what a field,

  Drench'd with what Grecian blood! All rashly spilt,

  And in despite of me. Venus, the while,

  Sits, and the Archer of the silver bow

  Delighted, and have urged, themselves, to this

  The frantic Mars within no bounds confined

  Of law or order. But, eternal sire!

  Shall I offend thee chasing far away

  Mars deeply smitten from the field of war?

  To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.

  Go! but exhort thou rather to the task

  Spoil-huntress Athenæan Pallas, him

  Accustom'd to chastise with pain severe.

  He spake, nor white-arm'd Juno not obey'd.

  She lash'd her steeds; they readily their flight

  Began, the earth and starry vault between.

  Far as from his high tower the watchman kens

  O'er gloomy ocean, so far at one bound

  Advance the shrill-voiced coursers of the Gods.

  But when at Troy and at the confluent streams

  Of Simoïs and Scamander they arrived,

  There Juno, white-arm'd Goddess, from the yoke

  Her steeds releasing, them in gather'd shades

  Conceal'd opaque, while Simoïs caused to spring

  Ambrosia from his bank, whereon they browsed.

  Swift as her pinions waft the dove away

  They sought the Grecians, ardent to begin:

  Arriving where the mightiest and the most

  Compass'd equestrian Diomede around,

  In aspect lion-like, or like wild boars

  Of matchless force, there white-arm'd Juno stood,

  And in the form of Stentor for his voice

  Of brass renown'd, audible as the roar

  Of fifty throats, the Grecians thus harangued.

  Oh shame, shame, shame! Argives in form alone,

  Beautiful but dishonorable race!

  While yet divine Achilles ranged the field,

  No Trojan stepp'd from yon Dardanian gates

  Abroad; all trembled at his stormy spear;

  But now they venture forth, now at your ships

  Defy you, from their city far remote.

  She ceased, and all caught courage from the sound.

  But Athenæan Pallas eager sought

  The son of Tydeus; at his chariot side

  She found the Chief cooling his fiery wound

  Received from Pandarus; for him the sweat

  Beneath the broad band of his oval shield

  Exhausted, and his arm fail'd him fatigued;

  He therefore raised the band and wiped the blood

  Coagulate; when o'er his chariot yoke

  Her arm the Goddess threw, and thus began.

  Tydeus, in truth, begat a son himself

  Not much resembling. Tydeus was of size

  Diminutive, but had a warrior's heart.

  When him I once commanded to abstain

  From furious fight (what time he enter'd Thebes

  Ambassador, and the Cadmeans found

  Feasting, himself the sole Achaian there)

  And bade him quietly partake the feast.

  He, fired with wonted ardor, challenged forth

  To proof of manhood the Cadmean youth,

  Whom easily, through my effectual aid,

  In contests of each kind he overcame.

  But thou, whom I encircle with my power,

  Guard vigilant, and even bid thee forth

  To combat with the Trojans, thou, thy limbs

  Feel'st wearied with the toils of war, or worse,

  Indulgest womanish and heartless fear.

  Henceforth thou art not worthy to be deem'd

  Son of Oenides, Tydeus famed in arms.

  To whom thus valiant Diomede replied.

  I know thee well, oh Goddess sprung from Jove!

  And therefore willing shall, and plain, reply.

  Me neither weariness nor heartless fear

  Restrains, but thine injunctions which impress

  My memory, still, that I should fear to oppose

  The blessed Gods in fight, Venus except,

  Whom in the battle found thou badest me pierce

  With unrelenting spear; therefore myself

  Retiring hither, I have hither call'd

  The other Argives also, for I know

  That Mars, himself in arms, controls the war.

  Him answer'd then the Goddess azure-eyed.

  Tydides! Diomede, my heart's delight!

  Fear not this Mars, nor fear thou other power

  Immortal, but be confident in me.

  Arise. Drive forth. Seek Mars; him only seek;

  Him hand to hand engage; this fiery Mars

  Respect not aught, base implement of wrong

  And mischief, shifting still from side to side.

  He promised Juno lately and myself

  That he would fight for Greece, yet now forgets

  His promise, and gives all his aid to Troy.

  So saying, she backward by his hand withdrew

  The son of Capaneus, who to the ground

  Leap'd instant; she, impatient to his place

  Ascending, sat beside brave Diomede.

  Loud groan'd the beechen axle, under weight

  Unwonted, for it bore into the fight

  An awful Goddess, and the chief of men.

  Quick-seizing lash and reins Minerva drove

  Direct at Mars. That moment he had slain

  Periphas, bravest of Ætolia's sons,

  And huge of bulk; Ochesius was his sire.

  Him Mars the slaughterer had of life bereft

  Newly, and Pallas to elude his sight

  The helmet fixed of Ades on her head.

  Soon as gore-tainted Mars the approach perceived

  Of Diomede, he left the giant length

  Of Periphas extended where he died,

  And flew to cope with Tydeus' valiant son.

  Full nigh they came, when Mars on fire to slay

  The hero, foremost with his brazen lance

  Assail'd him, hurling o'er his horses' heads.

  But Athenæan Pallas in her hand

  The flying weapon caught and turn'd it wide,

  Baffling his aim. Then Diomede on him

  Rush'd furious in his turn, and Pallas plunged

  The bright spear deep into his cinctured waist

  Dire was the wound, and plucking back the spear

  She tore him. Bellow'd brazen-throated Mars

  Loud as nine thousand warriors, or as ten

  Join'd in close combat. Grecians, Trojans shook

  Appall'd alike at the tremendous voice

  Of Mars insatiable with deeds of blood.

  Such as the dimness is when summer winds

  Breathe hot, and sultry mist obscures the sky,

  Such brazen Mars to Diomede appear'd

>   By clouds accompanied in his ascent

  Into the boundless ether. Reaching soon

  The Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, he sat

  Beside Saturnian Jove; wo fill'd his heart;

  He show'd fast-streaming from the wound his blood

  Immortal, and impatient thus complain'd.

  Jove, Father! Seest thou these outrageous acts

  Unmoved with anger? Such are day by day

  The dreadful mischiefs by the Gods contrived

  Against each other, for the sake of man.

  Thou art thyself the cause. Thou hast produced

  A foolish daughter petulant, addict

  To evil only and injurious deeds;

  There is not in Olympus, save herself,

  Who feels not thy control; but she her will

  Gratifies ever, and reproof from thee

  Finds none, because, pernicious as she is,

  She is thy daughter. She hath now the mind

  Of haughty Diomede with madness fill'd

  Against the immortal Gods; first Venus bled;

  Her hand he pierced impetuous, then assail'd,

  As if himself immortal, even me,

  But me my feet stole thence, or overwhelm'd

  Beneath yon heaps of carcases impure,

  What had I not sustain'd? And if at last

  I lived, had halted crippled by the sword.

  To whom with dark displeasure Jove replied.

  Base and side-shifting traitor! vex not me

  Here sitting querulous; of all who dwell

  On the Olympian heights, thee most I hate

  Contentious, whose delight is war alone.

  Thou hast thy mother's moods, the very spleen

  Of Juno, uncontrolable as she.

  Whom even I, reprove her as I may,

  Scarce rule by mere commands; I therefore judge

  Thy sufferings a contrivance all her own.

  But soft. Thou art my son whom I begat.

  And Juno bare thee. I can not endure

  That thou shouldst suffer long. Hadst thou been born

  Of other parents thus detestable,

  What Deity soe'er had brought thee forth,

  Thou shouldst have found long since a humbler sphere.

  He ceased, and to the care his son consign'd

  Of Pæon; he with drugs of lenient powers,

  Soon heal'd whom immortality secured

  From dissolution. As the juice from figs

  Express'd what fluid was in milk before

  Coagulates, stirr'd rapidly around,

  So soon was Mars by Pæon skill restored.

  Him Hebe bathed, and with divine attire

  Graceful adorn'd; when at the side of Jove

  Again his glorious seat sublime he took.

  Meantime to the abode of Jove supreme

  Ascended Juno throughout Argos known

  And mighty Pallas; Mars the plague of man,

  By their successful force from slaughter driven.

 

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