Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Jove saw their grief with pity, and his brows

  Shaking, within himself thus, pensive, said.

  Ah hapless pair! Wherefore by gift divine

  Were ye to Peleus given, a mortal king,

  Yourselves immortal and from age exempt?

  Was it that ye might share in human woes?

  For, of all things that breathe or creep the earth,

  No creature lives so mere a wretch as man.

  Yet shall not Priameian Hector ride

  Triumphant, drawn by you. Myself forbid.

  Suffice it that he boasts vain-gloriously

  Those arms his own. Your spirit and your limbs

  I will invigorate, that ye may bear

  Safe hence Automedon into the fleet.

  For I ordain the Trojans still to spread

  Carnage around victorious, till they reach

  The gallant barks, and till the sun at length

  Descending, sacred darkness cover all.

  He said, and with new might the steeds inspired.

  They, shaking from their hair profuse the dust,

  Between the van of either army whirl'd

  The rapid chariot. Fighting as he pass'd,

  Though fill'd with sorrow for his slaughter'd friend,

  Automedon high-mounted swept the field

  Impetuous as a vulture scattering geese;

  Now would he vanish, and now, turn'd again,

  Chase through a multitude his trembling foe;

  But whomsoe'er he follow'd, none he slew,

  Nor was the task possible to a Chief

  Sole in the sacred chariot, both to aim

  The spear aright and guide the fiery steeds.

  At length Alcimedon, his friend in arms,

  Son of Laerceus son of Æmon, him

  Observing, from behind the chariot hail'd

  The flying warrior, whom he thus bespake.

  What power, Automedon! hath ta'en away

  Thy better judgment, and thy breast inspired

  With this vain purpose to assail alone

  The Trojan van? Thy partner in the fight

  Is slain, and Hector on his shoulders bears,

  Elate, the armor of Æacides.

  Then, answer thus Automedon return'd,

  Son of Diores. Who of all our host

  Was ever skill'd, Alcimedon! as thou

  To rule the fire of these immortal steeds,

  Save only while he lived, peer of the Gods

  In that great art, Patroclus, now no more?

  Thou, therefore, the resplendent reins receive

  And scourge, while I, dismounting, wage the fight.

  He ceased; Alcimedon without delay

  The battle-chariot mounting, seized at once

  The lash and reins, and from his seat down leap'd

  Automedon. Them noble Hector mark'd,

  And to Æneas at his side began.

  Illustrious Chief of Trojans brazen-mail'd

  Æneas! I have noticed yonder steeds

  Of swift Achilles rushing into fight

  Conspicuous, but under sway of hands

  Unskilful; whence arises a fair hope

  That we might seize them, wert thou so inclined;

  For never would those two dare to oppose

  In battle an assault dreadful as ours.

  He ended, nor the valiant son refused

  Of old Anchises, but with targets firm

  Of season'd hide brass-plated thrown athwart

  Their shoulders, both advanced direct, with whom

  Of godlike form Aretus also went

  And Chromius. Ardent hope they all conceived

  To slay those Chiefs, and from the field to drive

  Achilles' lofty steeds. Vain hope! for them

  No bloodless strife awaited with the force

  Of brave Automedon; he, prayer to Jove

  First offering, felt his angry soul with might

  Heroic fill'd, and thus his faithful friend

  Alcimedon, incontinent, address'd.

  Alcimedon! hold not the steeds remote

  But breathing on my back; for I expect

  That never Priameïan Hector's rage

  Shall limit know, or pause, till, slaying us,

  He shall himself the coursers ample-maned

  Mount of Achilles, and to flight compel

  The Argive host, or perish in the van.

  So saying, he call'd aloud on Menelaus

  With either Ajax. Oh, illustrious Chiefs

  Of Argos, Menelaus, and ye bold

  Ajaces! leaving all your best to cope

  With Ilium's powers and to protect the dead,

  From friends still living ward the bitter day.

  For hither borne, two Chiefs, bravest of all

  The Trojans, Hector and Æneas rush

  Right through the battle. The events of war

  Heaven orders; therefore even I will give

  My spear its flight, and Jove dispose the rest!

  He said, and brandishing his massy spear

  Dismiss'd it at Aretus; full he smote

  His ample shield, nor stay'd the pointed brass,

  But penetrating sheer the disk, his belt

  Pierced also, and stood planted in his waist.

  As when some vigorous youth with sharpen'd axe

  A pastured bullock smites behind the horns

  And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke

  Springs forth and falls, so sprang Aretus forth,

  Then fell supine, and in his bowels stood

  The keen-edged lance still quivering till he died.

  Then Hector, in return, his radiant spear

  Hurl'd at Automedon, who of its flight

  Forewarn'd his body bowing prone, the stroke

  Eluded, and the spear piercing the soil

  Behind him, shook to its superior end,

  Till, spent by slow degrees, its fury slept.

  And now, with hand to hilt, for closer war

  Both stood prepared, when through the multitude

  Advancing at their fellow-warrior's call,

  The Ajaces suddenly their combat fierce

  Prevented. Awed at once by their approach

  Hector retired, with whom Æneas went

  Also and godlike Chromius, leaving there

  Aretus with his vitals torn, whose arms,

  Fierce as the God of war Automedon

  Stripp'd off, and thus exulted o'er the slain.

  My soul some portion of her grief resigns

  Consoled, although by slaughter of a worse,

  For loss of valiant Menœtiades.

  So saying, within his chariot he disposed

  The gory spoils, then mounted it himself

  With hands and feet purpled, as from a bull

  His bloody prey, some lion newly-gorged.

  And now around Patroclus raged again

  Dread strife deplorable! for from the skies

  Descending at the Thunderer's command

  Whose purpose now was to assist the Greeks,

  Pallas enhanced the fury of the fight.

  As when from heaven, in view of mortals, Jove

  Exhibits bright his bow, a sign ordain'd

  Of war, or numbing frost which all the works

  Suspends of man and saddens all the flocks;

  So she, all mantled with a radiant cloud

  Entering Achaia's host, fired every breast.

  But meeting Menelaus first, brave son

  Of Atreus, in the form and with the voice

  Robust of Phœnix, him she thus bespake.

  Shame, Menelaus, shall to thee redound

  For ever, and reproach, should dogs devour

  The faithful friend of Peleus' noble son

  Under Troy's battlements; but stand, thyself,

  Undaunted, and encourage all the host.

  To whom the son of Atreus bold in arms.

  Ah, Phœnix, friend revered, ancient and s
age!

  Would Pallas give me might and from the dint

  Shield me of dart and spear, with willing mind

  I would defend Patroclus, for his death

  Hath touch'd me deep. But Hector with the rage

  Burns of consuming fire, nor to his spear

  Gives pause, for him Jove leads to victory.

  He ceased, whom Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed

  Hearing, rejoiced that of the heavenly powers

  He had invoked her foremost to his aid.

  His shoulders with new might, and limbs she fill'd,

  And persevering boldness to his breast

  Imparted, such as prompts the fly, which oft

  From flesh of man repulsed, her purpose yet

  To bite holds fast, resolved on human blood.

  His stormy bosom with such courage fill'd

  By Pallas, to Patroclus he approach'd

  And hurl'd, incontinent, his glittering spear.

  There was a Trojan Chief, Podes by name,

  Son of Eëtion, valorous and rich;

  Of all Troy's citizens him Hector most

  Respected, in convivial pleasures sweet

  His chosen companion. As he sprang to flight,

  The hero of the golden locks his belt

  Struck with full force and sent the weapon through.

  Sounding he fell, and from the Trojan ranks

  Atrides dragg'd the body to his own.

  Then drew Apollo near to Hector's side,

  And in the form of Phœnops, Asius' son,

  Of all the foreign guests at Hector's board

  His favorite most, the hero thus address'd.

  What Chief of all the Grecians shall henceforth

  Fear Hector, who from Menelaus shrinks

  Once deem'd effeminate, but dragging now

  The body of thy valiant friend approved

  Whom he hath slain, Podes, Eëtion's son?

  He spake, and at his words grief like a cloud

  Involved the mind of Hector dark around;

  Right through the foremost combatants he rush'd

  All clad in dazzling brass. Then, lifting high

  His tassel'd Ægis radiant, Jove with storms

  Enveloped Ida; flash'd his lightnings, roar'd

  His thunders, and the mountain shook throughout.

  Troy's host he prosper'd, and the Greeks dispersed.

  First fled Peneleus, the Bœotian Chief,

  Whom facing firm the foe Polydamas

  Struck on his shoulder's summit with a lance

  Hurl'd nigh at hand, which slight inscribed the bone.

  Leïtus also, son of the renown'd

  Alectryon, pierced by Hector in the wrist,

  Disabled left the fight; trembling he fled

  And peering narrowly around, nor hoped

  To lift a spear against the Trojans more.

  Hector, pursuing Leïtus, the point

  Encounter'd of the brave Idomeneus

  Full on his chest; but in his mail the lance

  Snapp'd, and the Trojans shouted to the skies.

  He, in his turn, cast at Deucalion's son

  Idomeneus, who in that moment gain'd

  A chariot-seat; but him the erring spear

  Attain'd not, piercing Cœranus instead

  The friend and follower of Meriones

  From wealthy Lyctus, and his charioteer.

  For when he left, that day, the gallant barks

  Idomeneus had sought the field on foot,

  And triumph proud, full sure, to Ilium's host

  Had yielded now, but that with rapid haste

  Cœranus drove to his relief, from him

  The fate averting which himself incurr'd

  Victim of Hector's homicidal arm.

  Him Hector smiting between ear and jaw

  Push'd from their sockets with the lance's point

  His firm-set teeth, and sever'd sheer his tongue.

  Dismounted down he fell, and from his hand

  Let slide the flowing reins, which, to the earth

  Stooping, Meriones in haste resumed,

  And briefly thus Idomeneus address'd.

  Now drive, and cease not, to the fleet of Greece!

  Thyself see'st victory no longer ours.

  He said; Idomeneus whom, now, dismay

  Seized also, with his lash plying severe

  The coursers ample-maned, flew to the fleet.

  Nor Ajax, dauntless hero, not perceived,

  Nor Menelaus, by the sway of Jove

  The victory inclining fast to Troy,

  And thus the Telamonian Chief began.

  Ah! who can be so blind as not to see

  The eternal Father, now, with his own hand

  Awarding glory to the Trojan host,

  Whose every spear flies, instant, to the mark

  Sent forth by brave or base? Jove guides them all,

  While, ineffectual, ours fall to the ground.

  But haste, devise we of ourselves the means

  How likeliest we may bear Patroclus hence,

  And gladden, safe returning, all our friends,

  Who, hither looking anxious, hope have none

  That we shall longer check the unconquer'd force

  Of hero-slaughtering Hector, but expect

  To see him soon amid the fleet of Greece.

  Oh for some Grecian now to carry swift

  The tidings to Achilles' ear, untaught,

  As I conjecture, yet the doleful news

  Of his Patroclus slain! but no such Greek

  May I discern, such universal gloom

  Both men and steeds envelops all around.

  Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou

  Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies;

  Give day; and (since thy sovereign will is such)

  Destruction with it — but oh give us day!

  He spake, whose tears Jove saw with pity moved,

  And chased the untimely shades; bright beam'd the sun

  And the whole battle was display'd. Then spake

  The hero thus to Atreus' mighty son.

  Now noble Menelaus! looking forth,

  See if Antilochus be yet alive,

  Brave son of Nestor, whom exhort to fly

  With tidings to Achilles, of the friend

  Whom most he loved, of his Patroclus slain.

  He ceased, nor Menelaus, dauntless Chief,

  That task refused, but went; yet neither swift

  Nor willing. As a lion leaves the stalls

  Wearied himself with harassing the guard,

  Who, interdicting him his purposed prey,

  Watch all the night; he famish'd, yet again

  Comes furious on, but speeds not, kept aloof

  By spears from daring hands dismissed, but more

  By flash of torches which, though fierce, he dreads,

  Till at the dawn, sullen he stalks away;

  So from Patroclus Menelaus went

  Heroic Chief! reluctant; for he fear'd

  Lest the Achaians should resign the dead,

  Through consternation, to the host of Troy.

  Departing, therefore, he admonish'd oft

  Meriones and the Ajaces, thus.

  Ye two brave leaders of the Argive host,

  And thou, Meriones! now recollect

  The gentle manners of Patroclus fallen

  Hapless in battle, who by carriage mild

  Well understood, while yet he lived, to engage

  All hearts, through prisoner now of death and fate.

  So saying, the hero amber-hair'd his steps

  Turn'd thence, the field exploring with an eye

  Sharp as the eagle's, of all fowls beneath

  The azure heavens for keenest sight renown'd,

  Whom, though he soar sublime, the leveret

  By broadest leaves conceal'd 'scapes not, but swift

  Descending, even her he makes his prey;

  So, n
oble Menelaus! were thine eyes

  Turn'd into every quarter of the host

  In search of Nestor's son, if still he lived.

  Him, soon, encouraging his band to fight,

  He noticed on the left of all the field,

  And sudden standing at his side, began.

  Antilochus! oh hear me, noble friend!

  And thou shalt learn tidings of such a deed

  As best had never been. Thou know'st, I judge,

  And hast already seen, how Jove exalts

  To victory the Trojan host, and rolls

  Distress on ours; but ah! Patroclus lies,

  Our chief Achaian, slain, whose loss the Greeks

  Fills with regret. Haste, therefore, to the fleet,

  Inform Achilles; bid him haste to save,

  If save he can, the body of his friend;

  He can no more, for Hector hath his arms.

  He ceased. Antilochus with horror heard

  Those tidings; mute long time he stood, his eyes

  Swam tearful, and his voice, sonorous erst,

  Found utterance none. Yet even so distress'd,

  He not the more neglected the command

  Of Menelaus. Setting forth to run,

  He gave his armor to his noble friend

  Laodocus, who thither turn'd his steeds,

  And weeping as he went, on rapid feet

  Sped to Achilles with that tale of wo.

  Nor could the noble Menelaus stay

  To give the weary Pylian band, bereft

  Of their beloved Antilochus, his aid,

  But leaving them to Thrasymedes' care,

  He flew to Menœtiades again,

  And the Ajaces, thus, instant bespake.

  He goes. I have dispatch'd him to the fleet

  To seek Achilles; but his coming naught

  Expect I now, although with rage he burn

  Against illustrious Hector; for what fight

  Can he, unarm'd, against the Trojans wage?

  Deliberating, therefore, frame we means

  How best to save Patroclus, and to 'scape

  Ourselves unslain from this disastrous field.

  Whom answer'd the vast son of Telamon.

  Most noble Menelaus! good is all

  Which thou hast spoken. Lift ye from the earth

  Thou and Meriones, at once, and bear

  The dead Patroclus from the bloody field.

  To cope meantime with Hector and his host

  Shall be our task, who, one in name, nor less

  In spirit one, already have the brunt

  Of much sharp conflict, side by side, sustain'd.

  He ended; they enfolding in their arms

  The dead, upbore him high above the ground

  With force united; after whom the host

  Of Troy, seeing the body borne away,

  Shouted, and with impetuous onset all

  Follow'd them. As the hounds, urged from behind

  By youthful hunters, on the wounded boar