by Homer
Those heroes stood. Patroclus at his waist
Pierced Thrasymelus the illustrious friend
Of King Sarpedon, and his charioteer.
Spear'd through the lower bowels, dead he fell.
Then hurl'd Sarpedon in his turn a lance,
But miss'd Patroclus and the shoulder pierced
Of Pedasus the horse; he groaning heaved
His spirit forth, and fallen on the field
In long loud moanings sorrowful expired.
Wide started the immortal pair; the yoke
Creak'd, and entanglement of reins ensued
To both, their fellow slaughter'd at their side.
That mischief soon Automedon redress'd.
He rose, and from beside his sturdy thigh
Drawing his falchion, with effectual stroke
Cut loose the side-horse; then the pair reduced
To order, in their traces stood composed,
And the two heroes fierce engaged again.
Again his radiant spear Sarpedon hurl'd,
But miss'd Patroclus; the innocuous point,
O'erflying his left shoulder, pass'd beyond.
Then with bright lance Patroclus in his turn
Assail'd Sarpedon, nor with erring course
The weapon sped or vain, but pierced profound
His chest, enclosure of the guarded heart.
As falls an oak, poplar, or lofty pine
With new-edged axes on the mountains hewn
Right through, for structure of some gallant bark,
So fell Sarpedon stretch'd his steeds before
And gnash'd his teeth and clutch'd the bloody dust,
And as a lion slays a tawny bull
Leader magnanimous of all the herd;
Beneath the lion's jaws groaning he dies;
So, leader of the shielded Lycians groan'd
Indignant, by Patroclus slain, the bold
Sarpedon, and his friend thus, sad, bespake.
Glaucus, my friend, among these warring Chiefs
Thyself a Chief illustrious! thou hast need
Of all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,
And, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,
Now make the war's calamities thy joy.
First, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse
Our Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain,
Then haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend.
For shame and foul dishonor which no time
Shall e'er obliterate, I must prove to thee,
Should the Achaians of my glorious arms
Despoil me in full prospect of the fleet.
Fight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight.
He said, and cover'd by the night of death,
Nor look'd nor breath'd again; for on his chest
Implanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew
The spear enfolded with his vitals forth,
Weapon and life at once. Meantime his steeds
Snorted, by Myrmidons detain'd, and, loosed
From their own master's chariot, foam'd to fly.
Terrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,
Hearing that charge, and troubled was his heart
That all power fail'd him to protect the dead.
Compressing his own arm he stood, with pain
Extreme tormented which the shaft had caused
Of Teucer, who while Glaucus climb'd the wall,
Had pierced him from it, in the fleet's defence.
Then, thus, to Phœbus, King shaft-arm'd, he pray'd.
Hear now, O King! For whether in the land
Of wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,
Thou hear'st in every place alike the prayer
Of the afflicted heart, and such is mine;
Behold my wound; it fills my useless hand
With anguish, neither can my blood be stay'd,
And all my shoulder suffers. I can grasp
A spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks
No longer now; and we have also lost
Our noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,
Who guards not his own son. But thou, O King!
Heal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,
That I may animate the Lycian host
To fight, and may, myself, defend the dead!
Such prayer he offer'd, whom Apollo heard;
He eased at once his pain, the sable blood
Staunch'd, and his soul with vigor new inspired.
Then Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived
Granted, and joyful for the sudden aid
Vouchsafed to him by Phœbus, first the lines
Of Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief
To fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next
With eager haste into the ranks of Troy,
Renown'd Agenor and the son he call'd
Of Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom
Æneas also, and approaching last
To Hector brazen-mail'd him thus bespake.
Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign'd
All care of thy allies, who, for thy sake,
Lost both to friends and country, on these plains
Perish, unaided and unmiss'd by thee.
Sarpedon breathless lies, who led to fight
Our shielded bands, and from whose just control
And courage Lycia drew her chief defence.
Him brazen Mars hath by the spear subdued
Of Menœtiades. But stand ye firm!
Let indignation fire you, O my friends!
Lest, stripping him of his resplendent arms,
The Myrmidons with foul dishonor shame
His body, through resentment of the deaths
Of numerous Grecians slain by spears of ours.
He ceased; then sorrow every Trojan heart
Seized insupportable and that disdain'd
All bounds, for that, although a stranger born,
Sarpedon ever had a bulwark proved
To Troy, the leader of a numerous host,
And of that host by none in fight excell'd.
Right on toward the Danaï they moved
Ardent for battle all, and at their head
Enraged for slain Sarpedon, Hector came.
Meantime, stout-hearted Chief, Patroclus roused
The Grecians, and exhorting first (themselves
Already prompt) the Ajaces, thus began.
Heroic pair! now make it all your joy
To chase the Trojan host, and such to prove
As erst, or even bolder, if ye may.
The Chief lies breathless who ascended first
Our wall, Sarpedon. Let us bear him hence,
Strip and dishonor him, and in the blood
Of his protectors drench the ruthless spear.
So Menœtiades his warriors urged,
Themselves courageous. Then the Lycian host
And Trojan here, and there the Myrmidons
With all the host of Greece, closing the ranks
Rush'd into furious contest for the dead,
Shouting tremendous; clang'd their brazen arms,
And Jove with Night's pernicious shades o'erhung
The bloody field, so to enhance the more
Their toilsome strife for his own son. First then
The Trojans from their place and order shock'd
The bright-eyed Grecians, slaying not the least
Nor worst among the Myrmidons, the brave
Epigeus from renown'd Agacles sprung.
He, erst, in populous Budeum ruled,
But for a valiant kinsman of his own
Whom there he slew, had thence to Peleus fled
And to his silver-footed spouse divine,
Who with Achilles, phalanx-breaker Chief,
Sent him to fight beneath the walls of Troy.
Him seizing fast the body, with a stone
Illustrious Hector smote full on the front,
/> And his whole skull within the ponderous casque
Split sheer; he prostrate on the body fell
In shades of soul-divorcing death involved.
Patroclus, grieving for his slaughter'd friend,
Rush'd through the foremost warriors. As the hawk
Swift-wing'd before him starlings drives or daws,
So thou, Patroclus, of equestrian fame!
Full on the Lycian ranks and Trojan drov'st,
Resentful of thy fellow-warrior's fall.
At Sthenelaüs a huge stone he cast,
Son of Ithæmenes, whom on the neck
He smote and burst the tendons; then the van
Of Ilium's host, with Hector, all retired.
Far as the slender javelin cuts the air
Hurl'd with collected force, or in the games,
Or even in battle at a desperate foe,
So far the Greeks repulsed the host of Troy.
Then Glaucus first, Chief of the shielded bands
Of Lycia, slew Bathycles, valiant son
Of Calchon; Hellas was his home, and far
He pass'd in riches all the Myrmidons.
Him chasing Glaucus whom he now attain'd,
The Lycian, turning sudden, with his lance
Pierced through the breast, and, sounding, down he fell
Grief fill'd Achaia's sons for such a Chief
So slain, but joy the Trojans; thick they throng'd
The conqueror around, nor yet the Greeks
Forgat their force, but resolute advanced.
Then, by Meriones a Trojan died
Of noble rank, Laogonus, the son
Undaunted of Onetor great in Troy,
Priest of Idæan Jove. The ear and jaw
Between, he pierced him with a mortal force;
Swift flew the life, and darkness veil'd his eyes.
Æneas, in return, his brazen spear
Hurl'd at Meriones with ardent hope
To pierce him, while, with nimble steps and short
Behind his buckler made, he paced the field;
But, warn'd of its approach, Meriones
Bow'd low his head, shunning it, and the spear
Behind him pierced the soil; there quivering stood
The weapon, vain, though from a vigorous arm,
Till spent by slow degrees its fury slept.
* * * * *
* * * * *
Indignant then Æneas thus exclaim'd.
Meriones! I sent thee such a spear
As reaching thee, should have for ever marr'd
Thy step, accomplish'd dancer as thou art.
To whom Meriones spear-famed replied.
Æneas! thou wilt find the labor hard
How great soe'er thy might, to quell the force
Of all opposers. Thou art also doom'd
Thyself to die; and may but spear of mine
Well-aim'd once strike thee full, what strength soe'er
Or magnanimity be thine to boast,
Thy glory in that moment thou resign'st
To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown'd.
He said, but him Patroclus sharp reproved.
Why speaks Meriones, although in fight
Approved, thus proudly? Nay, my gallant friend!
The Trojans will not for reproach of ours
Renounce the body. Blood must first be spilt.
Tongues in debate, but hands in war decide;
Deeds therefore now, not wordy vaunts, we need.
So saying he led the way, whom follow'd close
Godlike Meriones. As from the depth
Of some lone wood that clothes the mountain's side
The fellers at their toil are heard remote,
So, from the face of Ilium's ample plain
Reverberated, was the din of brass
And of tough targets heard by falchions huge
Hard-smitten, and by spears of double-edge.
None then, no, not the quickest to discern,
Had known divine Sarpedon, from his head
To his foot-sole with mingled blood and dust
Polluted, and o'erwhelm'd with weapons. They
Around the body swarm'd. As hovel-flies
In spring-time buzz around the brimming pails
With milk bedew'd, so they around the dead.
Nor Jove averted once his glorious eyes
From that dread contest, but with watchful note
Marked all, the future death in battle deep
Pondering of Patroclus, whether him
Hector should even now slay on divine
Sarpedon, and despoil him of his arms,
Or he should still that arduous strife prolong.
This counsel gain'd as eligible most
At length his preference: that the valiant friend
Of Peleus' son should yet again compel
The Trojan host with Hector brazen-mail'd
To Ilium, slaughtering numerous by the way.
First then, with fears unmanly he possess'd
The heart of Hector; mounting to his seat
He turn'd to flight himself, and bade his host
Fly also; for he knew Jove's purpose changed.
Thenceforth, no longer even Lycia's host
Endured, but all fled scatter'd, seeing pierced
Their sovereign through his heart, and heap'd with dead;
For numerous, while Saturnian Jove the fight
Held in suspense, had on his body fallen.
At once the Grecians of his dazzling arms
Despoil'd Sarpedon, which the Myrmidons
By order of Menœtius' valiant son
Bore thence into the fleet. Meantime his will
The Thunderer to Apollo thus express'd.
Phœbus, my son, delay not; from beneath
Yon hill of weapons drawn cleanse from his blood
Sarpedon's corse; then, bearing him remote,
Lave him in waters of the running stream,
With oils divine anoint, and in attire
Immortal clothe him. Last, to Death and Sleep,
Swift bearers both, twin-born, deliver him;
For hence to Lycia's opulent abodes
They shall transport him quickly, where, with rites
Funereal, his next kindred and his friends
Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb
(The dead man's portion) rearing to his name.
He ceased; nor was Apollo slow to hear
His father's will, but, from the Idæan heights
Descending swift into the dreadful field,
Godlike Sarpedon's body from beneath
The hill of weapons drew, which, borne remote,
He laved in waters of the running stream,
With oils ambrosial bathed, and clothed in robes
Immortal. Then to Death and gentle Sleep,
Swift-bearers both, twin-born, he gave the charge,
Who placed it soon in Lycia's wealthy realm.
Meantime Patroclus, calling to his steeds,
And to Automedon, the Trojans chased
And Lycians, on his own destruction bent
Infatuate; heedless of his charge received
From Peleus' son, which, well perform'd, had saved
The hero from his miserable doom.
But Jove's high purpose evermore prevails
Against the thoughts of man; he turns to flight
The bravest, and the victory takes with ease
E'en from the Chief whom he impels himself
To battle, as he now this Chief impell'd.
Who, then, Patroclus! first, who last by thee
Fell slain, what time thyself was call'd to die?
Adrastus first, then Perimus he slew,
Offspring of Megas, then Autonoüs,
Echechlus, Melanippus, and Epistor,
Pylartes, Mulius, Elasus. All these
He slew, and from the field chased all beside.
Then, doubtles
s, had Achaia's sons prevail'd
To take proud-gated Troy, such havoc made
He with his spear, but that the son of Jove
Apollo, on a tower's conspicuous height
Station'd, devoted him for Ilium's sake.
Thrice on a buttress of the lofty wall
Patroclus mounted, and him thrice the God
With hands immortal his resplendent shield
Smiting, struck down again; but when he rush'd
A fourth time, demon-like, to the assault,
The King of radiant shafts him, stern, rebuked.
Patroclus, warrior of renown, retire!
The fates ordain not that imperial Troy
Stoop to thy spear, nor to the spear itself
Of Peleus' son, though mightier far than thou.
He said, and Menœtiades the wrath
Of shaft-arm'd Phœbus shunning, far retired.
But in the Scæan gate Hector his steeds
Detain'd, uncertain whether thence to drive
Amid the warring multitude again,
Or, loud commandment issuing, to collect
His host within the walls. Him musing long
Apollo, clad in semblance of a Chief
Youthful and valiant, join'd. Asius he seem'd
Equestrian Hector's uncle, brother born
Of Hecuba the queen, and Dymas' son,
Who on the Sangar's banks in Phrygia dwelt.
Apollo, so disguised, him thus bespake.
Why, Hector, hast thou left the fight? this sloth
Not well befits thee. Oh that I as far
Thee pass'd in force as thou transcendest me,
Then, not unpunish'd long, should'st thou retire;
But haste, and with thy coursers solid-hoof'd
Seek out Patroclus, him perchance to slay,
Should Phœbus have decreed that glory thine.
So saying, Apollo join'd the host again.
Then noble Hector bade his charioteer
Valiant Cebriones his coursers lash
Back into battle, while the God himself
Entering the multitude confounded sore
The Argives, victory conferring proud
And glory on Hector and the host of Troy.
But Hector, leaving all beside unslain,
Furious impell'd his coursers solid-hoof'd
Against Patroclus; on the other side
Patroclus from his chariot to the ground
Leap'd ardent; in his left a spear he bore,
And in his right a marble fragment rough,
Large as his grasp. With full collected might
He hurl'd it; neither was the weapon slow
To whom he had mark'd, or sent in vain.
He smote the charioteer of Hector, bold
Cebriones, King Priam's spurious son,
Full on the forehead, while he sway'd the reins.
The bone that force withstood not, but the rock
With ragged points beset dash'd both his brows