Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  To give his pointed lance its rapid course,

  And one, to start his arrow from the nerve.

  The arrow of the son of Priam struck

  Atrides' hollow corselet, but the reed

  Glanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans

  Leap from the van and fly athwart the floor,

  By sharp winds driven, and by the winnower's force,

  So from the corselet of the glorious Greek

  Wide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away.

  But Menelaus the left-hand transpierced

  Of Helenus, and with the lance's point

  Fasten'd it to his bow; shunning a stroke

  More fatal, Helenus into his band

  Retired, his arm dependent at his side,

  And trailing, as he went, the ashen beam;

  There, bold Agenor from his hand the lance

  Drew forth, then folded it with softest wool

  Around, sling-wool, and borrow'd from the sling

  Which his attendant into battle bore.

  Then sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief

  The son of Atreus, but his evil fate

  Beckon'd him to his death in conflict fierce,

  Oh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee.

  And now they met, small interval between.

  Atrides hurl'd his weapon, and it err'd.

  Pisander with his spear struck full the shield

  Of glorious Menelaus, but his force

  Resisted by the stubborn buckler broad

  Fail'd to transpierce it, and the weapon fell

  Snapp'd at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart

  Rebounded of Pisander, full of hope.

  But Menelaus, drawing his bright blade,

  Sprang on him, while Pisander from behind

  His buckler drew a brazen battle-axe

  By its long haft of polish'd olive-wood,

  And both Chiefs struck together. He the crest

  That crown'd the shaggy casque of Atreus' son

  Hew'd from its base, but Menelaus him

  In his swift onset smote full on the front

  Above his nose; sounded the shatter'd bone,

  And his eyes both fell bloody at his feet.

  Convolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast

  Atrides setting fast his heel, tore off

  His armor, and exulting thus began.

  So shall ye leave at length the Grecian fleet,

  Traitors, and never satisfied with war!

  Nor want ye other guilt, dogs and profane!

  But me have injured also, and defied

  The hot displeasure of high-thundering Jove

  The hospitable, who shall waste in time,

  And level with the dust your lofty Troy.

  I wrong'd not you, yet bore ye far away

  My youthful bride who welcomed you, and stole

  My treasures also, and ye now are bent

  To burn Achaia's gallant fleet with fire

  And slay her heroes; but your furious thirst

  Of battle shall hereafter meet a check.

  Oh, Father Jove! Thee wisest we account

  In heaven or earth, yet from thyself proceed

  All these calamities, who favor show'st

  To this flagitious race the Trojans, strong

  In wickedness alone, and whose delight

  In war and bloodshed never can be cloy'd.

  All pleasures breed satiety, sweet sleep,

  Soft dalliance, music, and the graceful dance,

  Though sought with keener appetite by most

  Than bloody war; but Troy still covets blood.

  So spake the royal Chief, and to his friends

  Pisander's gory spoils consigning, flew

  To mingle in the foremost fight again.

  Him, next, Harpalion, offspring of the King

  Pylæmenes assail'd; to Troy he came

  Following his sire, but never thence return'd.

  He, from small distance, smote the central boss

  Of Menelaus' buckler with his lance,

  But wanting power to pierce it, with an eye

  Of cautious circumspection, lest perchance

  Some spear should reach him, to his band retired.

  But him retiring with a brazen shaft

  Meriones pursued; swift flew the dart

  To his right buttock, slipp'd beneath the bone,

  His bladder grazed, and started through before.

  There ended his retreat; sudden he sank

  And like a worm lay on the ground, his life

  Exhaling in his fellow-warrior's arms,

  And with his sable blood soaking the plain.

  Around him flock'd his Paphlagonians bold,

  And in his chariot placed drove him to Troy,

  With whom his father went, mourning with tears

  A son, whose death he never saw avenged.

  Him slain with indignation Paris view'd,

  For he, with numerous Paphlagonians more

  His guest had been; he, therefore, in the thirst

  Of vengeance, sent a brazen arrow forth.

  There was a certain Greek, Euchenor, son

  Of Polyides the soothsayer, rich

  And brave in fight, and who in Corinth dwelt

  He, knowing well his fate, yet sail'd to Troy

  For Polyides oft, his reverend sire,

  Had prophecied that he should either die

  By some dire malady at home, or, slain

  By Trojan hands, amid the fleet of Greece.

  He, therefore, shunning the reproach alike

  Of the Achaians, and that dire disease,

  Had join'd the Grecian host; him Paris pierced

  The ear and jaw beneath; life at the stroke

  Left him, and darkness overspread his eyes.

  So raged the battle like devouring fire.

  But Hector dear to Jove not yet had learn'd,

  Nor aught surmised the havoc of his host

  Made on the left, where victory crown'd well-nigh

  The Grecians animated to the fight

  By Neptune seconding himself their arms.

  He, where he first had started through the gate

  After dispersion of the shielded Greeks

  Compact, still persevered. The galleys there

  Of Ajax and Protesilaüs stood

  Updrawn above the hoary Deep; the wall

  Was there of humblest structure, and the steeds

  And warriors there conflicted furious most.

  The Epeans there and Iäonians robed-

  Prolix, the Phthians, Locrians, and the bold

  Bœtians check'd the terrible assault

  Of Hector, noble Chief, ardent as flame,

  Yet not repulsed him. Chosen Athenians form'd

  The van, by Peteos' son, Menestheus, led,

  Whose high command undaunted Bias shared,

  Phidas and Stichius. The Epean host

  Under Amphion, Dracius, Meges, fought.

  Podarces brave in arms the Phthians ruled,

  And Medon (Medon was by spurious birth

  Brother of Ajax Oïliades,

  And for his uncle's death, whom he had slain,

  The brother of Oïleus' wife, abode

  In Phylace; but from Iphiclus sprang

  Podarces;) these, all station'd in the front

  Of Phthias' hardy sons, together strove

  With the Bœotians for the fleet's defence.

  Ajax the swift swerved never from the side

  Of Ajax son of Telamon a step,

  But as in some deep fallow two black steers

  Labor combined, dragging the ponderous plow,

  The briny sweat around their rooted horns

  Oozes profuse; they, parted as they toil

  Along the furrow, by the yoke alone,

  Cleave to its bottom sheer the stubborn glebe,

  So, side by side, they, persevering fought.

  The son of Tela
mon a people led

  Numerous and bold, who, when his bulky limbs

  Fail'd overlabor'd, eased him of his shield.

  Not so attended by his Locrians fought

  Oïleus' valiant son; pitch'd battle them

  Suited not, unprovided with bright casques

  Of hairy crest, with ashen spears, and shields

  Of ample orb; for, trusting in the bow

  And twisted sling alone, they came to Troy,

  And broke with shafts and volley'd stones the ranks.

  Thus occupying, clad in burnish'd arms,

  The van, these two with Hector and his host

  Conflicted, while the Locrians from behind

  Vex'd them with shafts, secure; nor could the men

  Of Ilium stand, by such a shower confused.

  Then, driven with dreadful havoc thence, the foe

  To wind-swept Ilium had again retired.

  Had not Polydamas, at Hector's side

  Standing, the dauntless hero thus address'd.

  Hector! Thou ne'er canst listen to advice;

  But think'st thou, that if heaven in feats of arms

  Give thee pre-eminence, thou must excel

  Therefore in council also all mankind?

  No. All-sufficiency is not for thee.

  To one, superior force in arms is given,

  Skill to another in the graceful dance,

  Sweet song and powers of music to a third,

  And to a fourth loud-thundering Jove imparts

  Wisdom, which profits many, and which saves

  Whole cities oft, though reverenced but by few.

  Yet hear; I speak as wisest seems to me.

  War, like a fiery circle, all around

  Environs thee; the Trojans, since they pass'd

  The bulwark, either hold themselves aloof,

  Or, wide-dispersed among the galleys, cope

  With numbers far superior to their own.

  Retiring, therefore, summon all our Chiefs

  To consultation on the sum of all,

  Whether (should heaven so prosper us) to rush

  Impetuous on the gallant barks of Greece,

  Or to retreat secure; for much I dread

  Lest the Achaians punctually refund

  All yesterday's arrear, since yonder Chief

  Insatiable with battle still abides

  Within the fleet, nor longer, as I judge,

  Will rest a mere spectator of the field.

  So spake Polydamas, whose safe advice

  Pleased Hector; from his chariot down he leap'd

  All arm'd, and in wing'd accents thus replied.

  Polydamas! here gather all the Chiefs;

  I haste into the fight, and my commands

  Once issued there, incontinent return.

  He ended, and conspicuous as the height

  Of some snow-crested mountain, shouting ranged

  The Trojans and confederates of Troy.

  They swift around Polydamas, brave son

  Of Panthus, at the voice of Hector, ran.

  Himself with hasty strides the front, meantime,

  Of battle roam'd, seeking from rank to rank

  Asius Hyrtacides, with Asius' son

  Adamas, and Deiphobus, and the might

  Of Helenus, his royal brother bold.

  Them neither altogether free from hurt

  He found, nor living all. Beneath the sterns

  Of the Achaian ships some slaughter'd lay

  By Grecian hands; some stricken by the spear

  Within the rampart sat, some by the sword.

  But leftward of the woful field he found,

  Ere long, bright Helen's paramour his band

  Exhorting to the fight. Hector approach'd,

  And him, in fierce displeasure, thus bespake.

  Curst Paris, specious, fraudulent and lewd!

  Where is Deiphobus, and where the might

  Of royal Helenus? Where Adamas

  Offspring of Asius, and where Asius, son

  Of Hyrtacus, and where Othryoneus?

  Now lofty Ilium from her topmost height

  Falls headlong, now is thy own ruin sure!

  To whom the godlike Paris thus replied.

  Since Hector! thou art pleased with no just cause

  To censure me, I may decline, perchance,

  Much more the battle on some future day,

  For I profess some courage, even I.

  Witness our constant conflict with the Greeks

  Here, on this spot, since first led on by thee

  The host of Troy waged battle at the ships.

  But those our friends of whom thou hast inquired

  Are slain, Deiphobus alone except

  And royal Helenus, who in the hand

  Bear each a wound inflicted by the spear,

  And have retired; but Jove their life preserved.

  Come now — conduct us whither most thine heart

  Prompts thee, and thou shalt find us ardent all

  To face like danger; what we can, we will,

  The best and most determined can no more.

  So saying, the hero soothed his brother's mind.

  Then moved they both toward the hottest war

  Together, where Polydamas the brave,

  Phalces, Cebriones, Orthæus fought,

  Palmys and Polyphœtes, godlike Chief,

  And Morys and Ascanius, gallant sons

  Both of Hippotion. They at Troy arrived

  From fair Ascania the preceding morn,

  In recompense for aid by Priam lent

  Erewhile to Phrygia, and, by Jove impell'd,

  Now waged the furious battle side by side.

  The march of these at once, was as the sound

  Of mighty winds from deep-hung thunder-clouds

  Descending; clamorous the blast and wild

  With ocean mingles; many a billow, then,

  Upridged rides turbulent the sounding flood,

  Foam-crested billow after billow driven,

  So moved the host of Troy, rank after rank

  Behind their Chiefs, all dazzling bright in arms.

  Before them Priameian Hector strode

  Fierce as gore-tainted Mars, and his broad shield

  Advancing came, heavy with hides, and thick-

  Plated with brass; his helmet on his brows

  Refulgent shook, and in its turn he tried

  The force of every phalanx, if perchance

  Behind his broad shield pacing he might shake

  Their steadfast order; but he bore not down

  The spirit of the firm Achaian host.

  Then Ajax striding forth, him, first, defied.

  Approach. Why temptest thou the Greeks to fear?

  No babes are we in aught that appertains

  To arms, though humbled by the scourge of Jove.

  Thou cherishest the foolish hope to burn

  Our fleet with fire; but even we have hearts

  Prepared to guard it, and your populous Troy,

  By us dismantled and to pillage given,

  Shall perish sooner far. Know this thyself

  Also; the hour is nigh when thou shalt ask

  In prayer to Jove and all the Gods of heaven,

  That speed more rapid than the falcon's flight

  May wing thy coursers, while, exciting dense

  The dusty plain, they whirl thee back to Troy.

  While thus he spake, sublime on the right-hand

  An eagle soar'd; confident in the sign

  The whole Achaian host with loud acclaim

  Hail'd it. Then glorious Hector thus replied.

  Brainless and big, what means this boast of thine,

  Earth-cumberer Ajax? Would I were the son

  As sure, for ever, of almighty Jove

  And Juno, and such honor might receive

  Henceforth as Pallas and Apollo share,

  As comes this day with universal wo

  Fraught
for the Grecians, among whom thyself

  Shalt also perish if thou dare abide

  My massy spear, which shall thy pamper'd flesh

  Disfigure, and amid the barks of Greece

  Falling, thou shalt the vultures with thy bulk

  Enormous satiate, and the dogs of Troy.

  He spake, and led his host; with clamor loud

  They follow'd him, and all the distant rear

  Came shouting on. On the other side the Greeks

  Re-echoed shout for shout, all undismay'd,

  And waiting firm the bravest of their foes.

  Upwent the double roar into the heights

  Ethereal, and among the beams of Jove.

  * * *

  BOOK XIV.

  * * *

  ARGUMENT OF THE FOURTEENTH BOOK.

  Agamemnon and the other wounded Chiefs taking Nestor with them, visit the battle. Juno having borrowed the Cestus of Venus, first engages the assistance of Sleep, then hastens to Ida to inveigle Jove. She prevails. Jove sleeps; and Neptune takes that opportunity to succor the Grecians.

  * * *

  BOOK XIV.

  Nor was that cry by Nestor unperceived

  Though drinking, who in words wing'd with surprise

  The son of Æsculapius thus address'd.

  Divine Machaon! think what this may bode.

  The cry of our young warriors at the ships

  Grows louder; sitting here, the sable wine

  Quaff thou, while bright-hair'd Hecamede warms

  A bath, to cleanse thy crimson stains away.

  I from yon eminence will learn the cause.

  So saying, he took a shield radiant with brass

  There lying in the tent, the shield well-forged

  Of valiant Thrasymedes, his own son

  (For he had borne to fight his father's shield)

  And arming next his hand with a keen lance

  Stood forth before the tent. Thence soon he saw

  Foul deeds and strange, the Grecian host confused,

  Their broken ranks flying before the host

  Of Ilium, and the rampart overthrown.

  As when the wide sea, darken'd over all

  Its silent flood, forebodes shrill winds to blow,

  The doubtful waves roll yet to neither side,

  Till swept at length by a decisive gale;

  So stood the senior, with distressful doubts

  Conflicting anxious, whether first to seek

  The Grecian host, or Agamemnon's self

  The sovereign, and at length that course preferr'd.

  Meantime with mutual carnage they the field

  Spread far and wide, and by spears double-edged

  Smitten, and by the sword their corselets rang.

  The royal Chiefs ascending from the fleet,

  Ulysses, Diomede, and Atreus' son