Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

When that same son of aegis-bearing Jove

  Assail'd him in the very gates of hell,

  And wrought him keenest anguish; pierc'd with pain

  To high Olympus, to the courts of Jove,

  Groaning, he came; the bitter shaft remain'd

  Deep in his shoulder fix'd, and griev'd his soul.

  But soon with soothing ointments Paeon's hand

  (For death on him was powerless) heal'd the wound.

  Accurs'd was he, of daring over-bold,

  Reckless of evil deeds, who with his bow

  Assail'd the Gods, who on Olympus dwell.

  The blue-ey'd Pallas, well I know, has urg'd

  Tydides to assail thee; fool and blind!

  Unknowing he how short his term of life

  Who fights against the Gods! for him no child

  Upon his knees shall lisp a father's name,

  Safe from the war and battle-field return'd.

  Brave as he is, let Diomed beware

  He meet not some more dangerous foe than thee.

  Then fair AEgiale, Adrastus' child,

  The noble wife of valiant Diomed,

  Shall long, with lamentations loud, disturb

  The slumbers of her house, and vainly mourn

  Her youthful Lord, the bravest of the Greeks."

  She said; and wip'd the ichor from, the wound;

  he hand was heal'd, the grievous pains allay'd.

  But Juno and Minerva, looking on,

  With words of bitter mock'ry Saturn's son

  Provok'd: and thus the blue-ey'd Goddess spoke:

  "O Father! may I speak without offence?

  Venus, it seems, has sought to lead astray

  Some Grecian woman, and persuade to join

  Those Trojans, whom she holds in high esteem;

  And, as her hand the gentle dame caress'd,

  A golden clasp has scratched her slender arm."

  Thus she: and smil'd the Sire of Gods and men;

  He call'd the golden Venus to his side,

  And, "Not to thee, my child," he said, "belong

  The deeds of war; do thou bestow thy care

  On deeds of love, and tender marriage ties;

  But leave to Mars and Pallas feats of arms."

  Such converse while they held, brave Diomed

  Again assail'd AEneas; well he knew

  Apollo's guardian hand around him thrown;

  Yet by the God undaunted, on he press'd

  To slay AEneas, and his arms obtain.

  Thrice was his onset made, with murd'rous aim;

  And thrice Apollo struck his glitt'ring shield;

  But when, with godlike force, he sought to make

  His fourth attempt, the Far-destroyer spoke

  In terms of awful menace: "Be advis'd,

  Tydides, and retire; nor as a God

  Esteem thyself; since not alike the race

  Of Gods immortal and of earth-born men."

  He said; and Diomed a little space

  Before the Far-destroyer's wrath retir'd:

  Apollo then AEneas bore away

  Far from the tumult; and in Pergamus,

  Where stood his sacred shrine, bestow'd him safe.

  Latona there, and Dian, Archer-Queen,

  In the great temple's innermost recess,

  Gave to his wounds their care, and sooth'd his pride.

  Meanwhile Apollo of the silver bow

  A phantom form prepar'd, the counterpart

  Of great AEneas, and alike in arms:

  Around the form, of Trojans and of Greeks,

  Loud was the din of battle; fierce the strokes

  That fell on rounded shield of tough bull's-hide,

  And lighter targe, before each warrior's breast.

  Then thus Apollo to the God of War:

  "Mars! Mars! thou bane of mortals, blood-stain'd Lord,

  Razer of cities, wer't not well thyself

  To interpose, and from the battle-field

  Withdraw this chief, Tydides? such his pride,

  He now would dare with Jove himself to fight.

  Venus, of late, he wounded in the wrist;

  And, like a God, but now confronted me."

  He said, and sat on Ilium's topmost height:

  While Mars, in likeness of the Thracian chief,

  Swift Acamas, amid the Trojan ranks

  Mov'd to and fro, and urg'd them to the fight.

  To Priam's Heav'n-descended sons he call'd;

  "Ye sons of Priam, Heav'n-descended King,

  How long will ye behold your people slain?

  Till to your very doors the war be brought?

  AEneas, noble-soul'd Anchises' son,

  In like esteem with Hector held, is down;

  On to his aid! our gallant comrade save!"

  He said; his words fresh courage gave to all:

  Then thus Sarpedon, in reproachful tone,

  Address'd the godlike Hector; "Where is now,

  Hector, the spirit that heretofore was thine?

  'Twas once thy boast that ev'n without allies

  Thyself, thy brethren, and thy house, alone

  The city could defend: for all of these

  I look in vain, and see not one; they all,

  As curs around a lion, cow'r and crouch:

  We, strangers and allies, maintain the fight.

  I to your aid, from lands afar remote,

  From Lycia came, by Xanthus' eddying stream;

  There left a cherish'd wife, and infant son,

  And rich possessions, which might envy move;

  Yet I my troops encourage; and myself

  Have play'd my part, though nought have I to lose,

  Nought that the Greeks could drive or bear away;

  But thou stand'st idly by; nor bidd'st the rest

  Maintain their ground, and guard their wives and homes.

  Beware lest ye, as in the meshes caught

  Of some wide-sweeping net, become the prey

  And booty of your foes, who soon shall lay

  Your prosp'rous city level with the dust.

  By day and night should this thy thoughts engage,

  With constant pray'r to all thy brave allies,

  Firmly to stand, and wipe this shame away."

  He said; and Hector felt the biting speech;

  Down from his car he leap'd; and through the ranks,

  Two jav'lins brandishing, he pass'd, to arms

  Exciting all, and rais'd his battle-cry.

  The tide was turn'd; again they fac'd the Greeks:

  In serried ranks the Greeks, undaunted, stood.

  As when the wind from off a threshing-floor,

  Where men are winnowing, blows the chaff away;

  When yellow Ceres with the breeze divides

  The corn and chaff, which lies in whit'ning heaps;

  So thick the Greeks were whiten'd o'er with dust,

  Which to the brazen vault of Heav'n arose

  Beneath the horses' feet, that with the crowd

  Were mingled, by their drivers turn'd to flight.

  Unwearied still, they bore the brunt; but Mars

  The Trojans succouring, the battle-field

  Veil'd in thick clouds, from ev'ry quarter brought.

  Thus he of Phoebus of the golden sword

  Obey'd th' injunction, bidding him arouse

  The courage of the Trojans, when he saw

  Pallas approaching to support the Greeks.

  Then from the wealthy shrine Apollo's self

  AEneas brought, and vigour fresh infus'd:

  Amid his comrades once again he stood;

  They joy'd to see him yet alive, and sound,

  And full of vigour; yet no question ask'd:

  No time for question then, amid the toils

  Impos'd by Phoebus of the silver bow,

  And blood-stain'd Mars, and Discord unappeas'd.

  Meanwhile Ulysses, and th' Ajaces both,

  And Diomed, with
courage for the fight

  The Grecian force inspir'd; they undismay'd

  Shrank not before the Trojans' rush and charge;

  In masses firm they stood, as when the clouds

  Are gather'd round the misty mountain top

  By Saturn's son, in breathless calm, while sleep

  The force of Boreas and the stormy winds,

  That with their breath the shadowy clouds disperse;

  So stood the Greeks, nor shunn'd the Trojans' charge.

  Through all the army Agamemnon pass'd,

  And cried, "Brave comrades, quit ye now like men;

  Bear a stout heart; and in the stubborn fight,

  Let each to other mutual succour give;

  By mutual succour more are sav'd than fall;

  In timid flight nor fame nor safety lies."

  Thus he: and straight his jav'lin threw, and struck

  A man of mark, AEneas' faithful friend,

  Deicoon, the son of Pergasus,

  By Troy, as ever foremost in the field,

  In equal honour held with Priam's sons.

  His shield the monarch Agamemnon struck;

  The shield's defence was vain; the spear pass'd through

  Beneath the belt, and in his groin was lodg'd;

  Thund'ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.

  On th' other side, AEneas slew two chiefs,

  The bravest of the Greeks, Orsilochus

  And Crethon, sons of Diocles, who dwelt

  In thriving Phera; rich in substance he,

  And from the mighty River Alpheus trac'd

  His high descent, who through the Pylian land

  His copious waters pours; to him was born

  Orsilochus, of num'rous tribes the chief;

  To him succeeded valiant Diocles;

  To whom were born twin sons, Orsilochus

  And Crethon, skill'd in ev'ry point of war.

  They, in the vigour of their youth, to Troy

  Had sail'd amid the dark-ribb'd ships of Greece,

  Of Atreus' sons the quarrel to uphold;

  But o'er them both the shades of death were spread.

  As two young lions, by their tawny dam

  Nurs'd in the mountain forest's deep recess,

  On flocks and herds their youthful fury pour,

  With havoc to the sheepfolds, till themselves

  Succumb, o'ermaster'd by the hand of man:

  So fell these two beneath AEneas' hand,

  And like two lofty pines in death they lay.

  The warlike Menelaus saw their fall

  With pitying eye; and through the foremost ranks

  With brandish'd spear advanc'd, by Mars impell'd,

  Who hop'd his death by great AEneas' hand.

  Him Nestor's son, Antilochus, beheld,

  And hasten'd to his aid; for much he fear'd

  Lest ill befall the monarch, and his death

  Deprive them of their warlike labours' fruit.

  They two, with force combined of hand and spear,

  Press'd onward to the fight; Antilochus

  His station keeping close beside the King.

  Before the two combined, AEneas fear'd,

  Bold warrior as he was, to hold his ground.

  The slain they drew within the Grecian lines,

  Placed in their comrades' hands, and turning back

  Amid the foremost mingled in the fray.

  Then, brave as Mars, Pylaemenes they slew,

  The buckler'd Paphlagonians' warlike chief;

  Him Menelaus, hand to hand engag'd,

  Pierc'd with a spear-thrust through the collar-bone;

  While, with a pond'rous stone, Antilochus

  Full on the elbow smote Atymnius' son,

  Mydon, his charioteer, in act to turn

  His fiery steeds to flight; down from his hands

  Fell to the ground the iv'ry-mounted reins.

  On rush'd Antilochus, and with his sword

  Across the temples smote him; gasping, he

  Upon his neck and shoulders from the car

  Pitch'd headlong; and (for there the sand was deep)

  Awhile stood balanc'd, till the horses' feet

  Dash'd him upon the ground; Antilochus,

  The horses seizing, drove them to the ships.

  Hector beheld athwart the ranks, and rush'd,

  Loud shouting, to th' encounter; at his back

  Follow'd the thronging bands of Troy, by Mars

  And fierce Bellona led; she by the hand

  Wild Uproar held; while Mars a giant spear

  Brandish'd aloft: and stalking now before,

  Now following after Hector, urg'd them on.

  Quail'd at the sight the valiant Diomed:

  As when a man, long journeying o'er the plain,

  All unprepar'd, stands sudden on the brink

  Of a swift stream, down rushing to the sea,

  Boiling with foam, and back recoils; so then

  Recoil'd Tydides, and address'd the crowd:

  "O friends, we marvel at the might display'd

  By Hector, spearman skill'd and warrior bold;

  But still some guardian God his steps attends,

  And shields from danger; now beside him stands,

  In likeness of a mortal, Mars himself.

  Then turning still your faces to your foes,

  Retire, nor venture with the Gods to fight."

  He said; the Trojans now were close at hand,

  And, mounted both upon a single car,

  Two chiefs, Menesthes and Anchialus,

  Well skill'd in war, by Hector's hand were slain.

  With pitying eyes great Ajax Telamon

  Beheld their fall; advancing close, he threw

  His glitt'ring spear; the son of Selagus

  It struck, Amphius, who in Paesus dwelt,

  In land and substance rich; by evil fate

  Impell'd, to Priam's house he brought his aid.

  Below the belt the spear of Ajax struck,

  And in his groin the point was buried deep;

  Thund'ring he fell; then forward Ajax sprang

  To seize the spoils of war; but fast and fierce

  The Trojans show'r'd their weapons bright and keen,

  And many a lance the mighty shield receiv'd.

  Ajax, his foot firm planted on the slain,

  Withdrew the brazen spear; yet could not strip

  His armour off, so galling flew the shafts;

  And much he fear'd his foes might hem him in,

  Who closely press'd upon him, many and brave;

  And, valiant as he was, and tall, and strong,

  Still drove him backward; he perforce retired.

  Thus labour'd they amid the stubborn fight.

  Then evil fate induc'd Tlepolemus,

  Valiant and strong, the son of Hercules,

  Heav'n-born Sarpedon to confront in fight.

  When near they came, of cloud-compelling Jove

  Grandson and son, Tlepolemus began:

  "Sarpedon, Lycian chief, what brings thee here,

  Trembling and crouching, all unskill'd in war?

  Falsely they speak who fable thee the son

  Of aegis-bearing Jove; so far art thou

  Beneath their mark who claim'd in elder days

  That royal lineage: such my father was,

  Of courage resolute, of lion heart.

  With but six ships, and with a scanty band,

  The horses by Laomedon withheld

  Avenging, he o'erthrew this city, Troy,

  And made her streets a desert; but thy soul

  Is poor, thy troops are wasting fast away;

  Nor deem I that the Trojans will in thee

  (Ev'n were thy valour more) and Lycia's aid

  Their safeguard find; but vanquish'd by my hand,

  This day the gates of Hades thou shalt pass."

  To whom the Lycian chief, Sarpedon, thus:

  "Tlepolemus, the
sacred walls of Troy

  Thy sire o'erthrew, by folly of one man,

  Laomedon, who with injurious words

  His noble service recompens'd; nor gave

  The promis'd steeds, for which he came from far.

  For thee, I deem thou now shalt meet thy doom

  Here, at my hand; on thee my spear shall win

  Renown for me, thy soul to Hades send."

  Thus as Sarpedon spoke, Tlepolemus

  Uprais'd his ashen spear; from both their hands

  The pond'rous weapons simultaneous flew.

  Full in the throat Tlepolemus receiv'd

  Sarpedon's spear; right through the neck it pass'd,

  And o'er his eyes the shades of death were spread.

  On th' other side his spear Sarpedon struck

  On the left thigh; the eager weapon pass'd

  Right through the flesh, and in the bone was fix'd;

  The stroke of death his father turn'd aside.

  Sarpedon from the field his comrades bore,

  Weigh'd down and tortured by the trailing spear,

  For, in their haste to bear him to his car,

  Not one bethought him from his thigh to draw

  The weapon forth; so sorely were they press'd.

  The Greeks too from the battle-field convey'd

  The slain Tlepolemus; Ulysses saw,

  Patient of spirit, but deeply mov'd at heart;

  And with conflicting thoughts his breast was torn,

  If first he should pursue the Thund'rer's son,

  Or deal destruction on the Lycian host.

  But fate had not decreed the valiant son

  Of Jove to fall beneath Ulysses' hand;

  So on the Lycians Pallas turn'd his wrath.

  Alastor then, and Coeranus he slew,

  Chromius, Alcander, Halius, Prytanis,

  Noemon; nor had ended then the list

  Of Lycian warriors by Ulysses slain;

  But Hector of the glancing helm beheld;

  Through the front ranks he rush'd, with burnish'd crest

  Resplendent, flashing terror on the Greeks;

  With joy Sarpedon saw his near approach,

  And with imploring tones address'd him thus:

  "Hector, thou son of Priam, leave me not

  A victim to the Greeks, but lend thine aid:

  Then in your city let me end my days.

  For not to me is giv'n again to see

  My native land; or, safe returning home,

  To glad my sorrowing wife and infant child."

  Thus he; but Hector, answ'ring not a word,

  Pass'd on in silence, hasting to pursue

  The Greeks, and pour destruction on their host.

  Beneath the oak of aegis-bearing Jove

  His faithful comrades laid Sarpedon down,

  And from his thigh the valiant Pelagon,

  His lov'd companion, drew the ashen spear.

  He swoon'd, and giddy mists o'erspread his eyes: