by Homer
But soon reviv'd, as on his forehead blew,
While yet he gasp'd for breath, the cooling breeze.
By Mars and Hector of the brazen helm
The Greeks hard-press'd, yet fled not to their ships,
Nor yet sustain'd the fight; but back retir'd
Soon as they learned the presence of the God.
Say then who first, who last, the prowess felt
Of Hector, Priam's son, and mail-clad Mars?
The godlike Teuthras first, Orestes next,
Bold charioteer; th' AEtolian spearman skill'd,
Trechus, OEnomaus, and Helenus,
The son of OEnops; and Oresbius, girt
With sparkling girdle; he in Hyla dwelt,
The careful Lord of boundless wealth, beside
Cephisus' marshy banks; Boeotia's chiefs
Around him dwelt, on fat and fertile soil.
Juno, the white-arm'd Queen, who saw these two
The Greeks destroying in the stubborn fight,
To Pallas thus her winged words address'd:
"O Heav'n! brave child of aegis-bearing Jove,
Vain was our word to Menelaus giv'n.
That he the well-built walls of Troy should raze,
And safe return, if unrestrain'd we leave
Ferocious Mars to urge his mad career.
Come then; let us too mingle in the fray."
She said: and Pallas, blue-ey'd Maid, complied.
Offspring of Saturn, Juno, heav'nly Queen,
Herself th' immortal steeds caparison'd,
Adorn'd with golden frontlets: to the car
Hebe the circling wheels of brass attach'd,
Eight-spok'd, that on an iron axle turn'd;
The felloes were of gold, and fitted round
With brazen tires, a marvel to behold;
The naves were silver, rounded every way:
The chariot-board on gold and silver bands
Was hung, and round it ran a double rail:
The pole was all of silver; at the end
A golden yoke, with golden yoke-bands fair:
And Juno, all on fire to join the fray,
Beneath the yoke the flying coursers led.
Pallas, the child of aegis-bearing Jove,
Within her father's threshold dropp'd her veil,
Of airy texture, work of her own hands;
The cuirass donn'd of cloud-compelling Jove,
And stood accoutred for the bloody fray.
Her tassell'd aegis round her shoulders next
She threw, with Terror circled all around;
And on its face were figur'd deeds of arms,
And Strife, and Courage high, and panic Rout;
There too a Gorgon's head, of monstrous size,
Frown'd terrible, portent of angry Jove:
And on her head a golden helm she plac'd,
Four-crested, double-peak'd, whose ample verge
A hundred cities' champions might suffice:
Her fiery car she mounted: in her hand
A spear she bore, long, weighty, tough; wherewith
The mighty daughter of a mighty sire
Sweeps down the ranks of those her hate pursues.
Then Juno sharply touch'd the flying steeds:
Forthwith spontaneous opening, grated harsh
The heavenly portals, guarded by the Hours,
Who Heav'n and high Olympus have in charge
To roll aside, or draw the veil of cloud.
Through these th' excited horses held their way.
They found the son of Saturn, from the Gods
Sitting apart, upon the highest crest
Of many-ridg'd Olympus; there arriv'd,
The white-arm'd Goddess Juno stay'd her steeds,
And thus address'd the Sov'reign Lord of Heav'n:
"O Father Jove! canst thou behold unmov'd
The violence of Mars? how many Greeks,
Reckless and uncontroll'd, he hath destroy'd;
To me a source of bitter grief; meanwhile
Venus and Phoebus of the silver bow
Look on, well pleas'd, who sent this madman forth,
To whom both law and justice are unknown.
Say, Father Jove, shall I thine anger move,
If with disgrace I drive him from the field?"
To whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied:
"Go, send against him Pallas; she, I know,
Hath oft inflicted on him grievous pain.".
He said: the white-arm'd Queen with joy obey'd;
She urg'd her horses; nothing loth, they flew
Midway between the earth, and starry Heav'n:
Far as his sight extends, who from on high
Looks from his watch-tow'r o'er the dark-blue sea,
So far at once the neighing horses bound.
But when to Troy they came, beside the streams
Where Simois' and Scamander's waters meet,
The white-arm'd Goddess stay'd her flying steeds,
Loos'd from the car, and veil'd in densest cloud.
For them, at bidding of the river-God,
Ambrosial forage grew: the Goddesses,
Swift as the wild wood-pigeon's rapid flight,
Sped to the battle-field to aid the Greeks.
But when they reach'd the thickest of the fray,
Where throng'd around the might of Diomed
The bravest and the best, as lions fierce,
Or forest-boars, the mightiest of their kind,
There stood the white-arm'd Queen, and call'd aloud,
In form of Stentor, of the brazen voice,
Whose shout was as the shout of fifty men:
"Shame on ye, Greeks, base cowards! brave alone
In outward semblance; while Achilles yet
Went forth to battle, from the Dardan gates
The Trojans never ventur'd to advance,
So dreaded they his pond'rous spear; but now
Far from the walls, beside your ships, they fight."
She said: her words their drooping courage rous'd.
Meanwhile the blue-ey'd Pallas went in haste
In search of Tydeus' son; beside his car
She found the King, in act to cool the wound
Inflicted by the shaft of Pandarus:
Beneath his shield's broad belt the clogging sweat
Oppress'd him, and his arm was faint with toil;
The belt was lifted up, and from the wound
He wip'd the clotted blood: beside the car
The Goddess stood, and touch'd the yoke, and said:
"Little like Tydeus' self is Tydeus' son:
Low was his stature, but his spirit was high:
And ev'n when I from combat rashly wag'd
Would fain have kept him back, what time in Thebes
He found himself, an envoy and alone,
Without support, among the Thebans all,
I counsell'd him in peace to share the feast:
But by his own impetuous courage led,
He challenged all the Thebans to contend
With him in wrestling, and o'erthrew them all
With ease; so mighty was the aid I gave.
Thee now I stand beside, and guard from harm,
And bid thee boldly with the Trojans fight.
But, if the labours of the battle-field
O'ertask thy limbs, or heartless fear restrain,
No issue thou of valiant Tydeus' loins."
Whom answer'd thus the valiant Diomed:
"I know thee, Goddess, who thou art; the child
Of aegis-bearing Jove: to thee my mind
I freely speak, nor aught will I conceal.
Nor heartless fear, nor hesitating doubt,
Restrain me; but I bear thy words in mind,
With other of th' Immortals not to fight:
But should Jove's daughter, Venus, dare the fray,
At her I need not shun to throw my spear.
Th
erefore I thus withdrew, and others too
Exhorted to retire, since Mars himself
I saw careering o'er the battle-field."
To whom the blue-ey'd Goddess, Pallas, thus:
"Thou son of Tydeus, dearest to my soul,
Fear now no more with Mars himself to fight,
Nor other God; such aid will I bestow.
Come then; at him the first direct thy car;
Encounter with him hand to hand; nor fear
To strike this madman, this incarnate curse,
This shameless renegade; who late agreed
With Juno and with me to combat Troy,
And aid the Grecian cause; who now appears,
The Greeks deserting, in the Trojan ranks."
Thus Pallas spoke, and stretching forth her hand
Backward his comrade Sthenelus she drew
From off the chariot; down in haste he sprang.
His place beside the valiant Diomed
The eager Goddess took; beneath the weight
Loud groan'd the oaken axle; for the car
A mighty Goddess and a Hero bore.
Then Pallas took the whip and reins, and urg'd
Direct at Mars the fiery coursers' speed.
The bravest of th' AEtolians, Periphas,
Ochesius' stalwart son, he just had slain,
And stood in act to strip him of his arms.
The helmet then of Darkness Pallas donn'd,
To hide her presence from the sight of Mars:
But when the blood-stain'd God of War beheld
Advancing tow'rd him godlike Diomed,
The corpse of stalwart Periphas he left,
There where he fell, to lie; while he himself
Of valiant Diomed th' encounter met.
When near they came, first Mars his pond'rous spear
Advane'd beyond the yoke and horses' reins,
With murd'rous aim; but Pallas from the car
Turn'd it aside, and foil'd the vain attempt.
Then Diomed thrust forward in his turn
His pond'rous spear; low on the flank of Mars,
Guided by Pallas, with successful aim,
Just where the belt was girt, the weapon struck:
It pierc'd the flesh, and straight was back withdrawn:
Then Mars cried out aloud, with such a shout
As if nine thousand or ten thousand men
Should simultaneous raise their battle-cry:
Trojans and Greeks alike in terror heard,
Trembling; so fearful was the cry of Mars.
As black with clouds appears the darken'd air,
When after heat the blust'ring winds arise,
So Mars to valiant Diomed appear'd,
As in thick clouds lie took his heav'nward flight.
With speed he came to great Olympus' heights,
Th' abode of Gods; and sitting by the throne
Of Saturn's son, with anguish torn, he show'd
Th' immortal stream that trickled from the wound,
And thus to Jove his piteous words address'd:
"O Father Jove, canst thou behold unmov'd
These acts of violence? the greatest ills
We Gods endure, we each to other owe
Who still in human quarrels interpose.
Of thee we all complain; thy senseless child
Is ever on some evil deed intent.
The other Gods, who on Olympus dwell,
Are all to thee obedient and submiss;
But thy pernicious daughter, nor by word
Nor deed dost thou restrain; who now excites
Th' o'erbearing son of Tydeus, Diomed,
Upon th' immortal Gods to vent his rage.
Venus of late he wounded in the wrist,
And, as a God, but now encounter'd me:
Barely I 'scap'd by swiftness of my feet;
Else, 'mid a ghastly heap of corpses slain,
In anguish had I lain; and, if alive,
Yet liv'd disabl'd by his weapon's stroke."
Whom answer'd thus the Cloud-compeller, Jove,
With look indignant: "Come no more to me,
Thou wav'ring turncoat, with thy whining pray'rs:
Of all the Gods who on Olympus dwell
I hate thee most; for thou delight'st in nought
But strife and war; thou hast inherited
Thy mother, Juno's, proud, unbending mood,
Whom I can scarce control; and thou, methinks,
To her suggestions ow'st thy present plight.
Yet since thou art my offspring, and to me
Thy mother bore thee, I must not permit
That thou should'st long be doom'd to suffer pain;
But had thy birth been other than it is,
For thy misdoings thou hadst long ere now
Been banish'd from the Gods' companionship."
He said: and straight to Paeon gave command
To heal the wound; with soothing anodynes
He heal'd it quickly; soon as liquid milk
Is curdled by the fig-tree's juice, and turns
In whirling flakes, so soon was heal'd the wound.
By Hebe bath'd, and rob'd afresh, he sat
In health and strength restor'd, by Saturn's son.
Mars thus arrested in his murd'rous course,
Together to th' abode of Jove return'd
The Queen of Argos and the blue-ey'd Maid.
ARGUMENT.
THE EPISODES OF GLAUCUS AND DIOMED, AND OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
The gods having left the field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the chief augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the city, in order to appoint a solemn procession of the Queen and the Trojan matrons to the temple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. The battle relaxing during the absence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have an interview between the two armies; where, coming to the knowledge of the friendship and hospitality past between their ancestors, they make exchange of their arms. Hector, having performed the orders of Helenus, prevailed upon Paris to return to the battle, and taken a tender leave of his wife Andromache, hastens again to the field.
The scene is first in the field of battle, between the rivers Simois and Scamander, and then changes to Troy.
BOOK VI.
The Gods had left the field, and o'er the plain
Hither and thither surg'd the tide of war,
As couch'd th' opposing chiefs their brass-tipp'd spears,
Midway 'twixt Simois' and Scamander's streams.
First through the Trojan phalanx broke his way
The son of Telamon, the prop of Greece,
The mighty Ajax; on his friends the light
Of triumph shedding, as Eusorus' son
He smote, the noblest of the Thracian bands,
Valiant and strong, the gallant Acamas.
Full in the front, beneath the plumed helm,
The sharp spear struck, and crashing thro' the bone,
The warrior's eyes were clos'd in endless night.
Next valiant Diomed Axylus slew,
The son of Teuthranes, who had his home
In fair Arisba; rich in substance he,
And lov'd of all; for, dwelling near the road,
He op'd to all his hospitable gate;
But none of all he entertain'd was there
To ward aside the bitter doom of death:
There fell they both, he and his charioteer,
Calesius, who athwart the battle-field
His chariot drove; one fate o'ertook them both.
Then Dresus and Opheltius of their arms
Euryalus despoil'd; his hot pursuit
AEsepus next, and Pedasus assail'd,
Brothers, whom Abarbarea, Naiad nymph,
To bold Bucolion bore; Bucolion, son
Of great Laomedon, his eldest born,
Though bastard: he upon the mountain side,
On which his flocks he tended, met the nymph,
>
And of their secret loves twin sons were born;
Whom now at once Euryalus of strength
And life depriv'd, and of their armour stripp'd.
By Polypoetes' hand, in battle strong,
Was slain Astyalus; Pidutes fell,
Chief of Percote, by Ulysses' spear;
And Teucer godlike Aretaon slew.
Antilochus, the son of Nestor, smote
With gleaming lance Ablerus; Elatus
By Agamemnon, King of men, was slain,
Who dwelt by Satnois' widely-flowing stream,
Upon the lofty heights of Pedasus.
By Leitus was Phylacus in flight
O'erta'en; Eurypylus Melanthius slew.
Then Menelaus, good in battle, took
Adrastus captive; for his horses, scar'd
And rushing wildly o'er the plain, amid
The tangled tamarisk scrub his chariot broke,
Snapping the pole; they with the flying crowd
Held city-ward their course; he from the car
Hurl'd headlong, prostrate lay beside the wheel,
Prone on his face in dust; and at his side,
Poising his mighty spear, Atrides stood.
Adrastus clasp'd his knees, and suppliant cried,
"Spare me, great son of Atreus! for my life
Accept a price; my wealthy father's house
A goodly store contains of brass, and gold,
And well-wrought iron; and of these he fain
Would pay a noble ransom, could he hear
That in the Grecian ships I yet surviv'd."
His words to pity mov'd the victor's breast;
Then had he bade his followers to the ships
The captive bear; but running up in haste.
Fierce Agamemnon cried in stern rebuke;
"Soft-hearted Menelaus, why of life
So tender? Hath thy house receiv'd indeed
Nothing but benefits at Trojan hands?
Of that abhorred race, let not a man
Escape the deadly vengeance of our arms;
No, not the infant in its mother's womb;
No, nor the fugitive; but be they all,
They and their city, utterly destroy'd,
Uncar'd for, and from mem'ry blotted out."
Thus as he spoke, his counsel, fraught with death,
His brother's purpose chang'd; he with his hand
Adrastus thrust aside, whom with his lance
Fierce Agamemnon through the loins transfix'd;
And, as he roll'd in death, upon his breast
Planting his foot, the ashen spear withdrew.
Then loudly Nestor shouted to the Greeks:
"Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars!
Loiter not now behind, to throw yourselves
Upon the prey, and bear it to the ships;
Let all your aim be now to kill; anon