Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Sated with vict'ry, to the town return?"

  Whom Dolon answer'd thus, Eumedes' son:

  "Thy questions all true answers shall receive;

  Hector, with those who share his counsels, sits

  In conf'rence, far apart, near Ilus' tomb;

  But for the guards thou speak'st of, noble chief,

  Not one is station'd to protect the camp.

  Around the Trojan fires indeed, perforce,

  A watch is kept; and they, among themselves,

  Due caution exercise: but, for th' Allies,

  They sleep, and to the Trojans leave the watch,

  Since nor their children nor their wives are near."

  To whom in answer sage Ulysses thus:

  "Say now, where sleep they? with the Trojans mix'd,

  Or separate? explain, that I may know."

  Whom answer'd Dolon thus, Eumedes' son:

  "To this too will I give ye answer true;

  Next to the sea the Carian forces lie;

  The Paeon archers and the Leleges,

  The Caucons, and the bold Pelasgians next;

  On Thymbra's side the Lycians' lot has fall'n,

  The Mysians brave, the Phrygian cavalry,

  And the Maeonians with their horsehair plumes.

  But why of these enquire? if ye intend

  An inroad on the camp, apart from all,

  New come, the farthest off, the Thracians lie:

  Rhesus their King, the son of Eioneus,

  Sleeps in the midst; no steeds that e'er I saw

  For size and beauty can with his compare:

  Whiter than snow, and swifter than the wind.

  With gold and silver is his chariot wrought,

  His armour golden, of gigantic size,

  A marvel to behold! it seems not meet

  For mortal man, but for th' immortal Gods.

  But take me now in safety to the ships;

  Or leave me here in fetters bound, that so,

  Ere ye return, ye may approve my words,

  And see if I have told you true, or no."

  To whom thus Diomed with stern regard:

  "Dolon, though good thy tidings, hope not thou,

  Once in our hands, to 'scape the doom of death;

  For if we now should let thee go, again

  In after times thou mightst our ships approach,

  As secret spy, or open enemy:

  But if beneath my hands thou lose thy life,

  No farther trouble shalt thou cause the Greeks."

  He said; and as the suppliant sought in vain

  To touch his beard, imploring, through his throat,

  Both tendons sev'ring, drove his trenchant blade:

  Ev'n while he spoke, his head was roll'd in dust.

  The cap of marten fur from off his head

  They took, the wolf-skin, and the bow unstrung,

  And jav'lin; these Ulysses held aloft,

  And thus to Pallas pray'd, who gave the spoil:

  "Receive, great Goddess, these our gifts; to thee,

  Of all th' Immortals on Olympus' height,

  Our off'rings first we give; conduct us now,

  The Thracian camp and Thracian steeds to gain."

  Thus as he spoke, amid the tamarisk scrub

  Far off he threw the trophies; then with reeds,

  And twigs new broken from the tamarisk boughs,

  He set a mark, lest in the gloom of night

  Returning, they might haply miss the spot.

  Then on they pass'd thro' arms and blacken'd gore,

  And reach'd the confines of the Thracian camp.

  There found they all by sleep subdued; their arms

  Beside them on the ground, in order due,

  In triple rows; and by the side of each,

  Harness'd and yok'd, his horses ready stood.

  Surrounded by his warriors, Rhesus slept;

  Beside him stood his coursers fleet, their reins

  Suspended to the chariot's topmost rail:

  Ulysses mark'd him as he lay, and said,

  "This is the man, Tydides, these the steeds,

  To us by Dolon, whom we slew, describ'd.

  Now then, put forth thy might; beseems it not

  To stand thus idly with thine arms in hand:

  Loose thou the horses; or do thou the men

  Despatch, and to my care the horses leave."

  He said: and Pallas vigour new inspir'd,

  That right and left he smote; dire were the groans

  Of slaughter'd men; the earth was red with blood;

  And as a lion on th' untended flock

  Of sheep or goats with savage onslaught springs,

  Ev'n so Tydides on the Thracians sprang,

  Till twelve were slain; and as Tydides' sword

  Gave each to death, Ulysses by the feet

  Drew each aside; reflecting, that perchance

  The horses, startled, might refuse to pass

  The corpses; for as yet they knew them not.

  But when Tydides saw the sleeping King,

  A thirteenth victim to his sword was giv'n,

  Painfully breathing; for by Pallas' art,

  He saw that night, as in an evil dream,

  The son of OEneus standing o'er his head.

  Meanwhile Ulysses sage the horses loos'd;

  He gather'd up the reins, and with his bow

  (For whip was none at hand) he drove them forth;

  Then softly whistling to Tydides gave

  A signal; he, the while, remain'd behind,

  Musing what bolder deed he yet might do;

  Whether the seat, whereon the arms were laid,

  To draw away, or, lifted high in air,

  To bear it off in triumph on the car;

  Or on the Thracians farther loss inflict;

  But while he mus'd, beside him Pallas stood,

  And said, "Bethink thee, Tydeus' son, betimes

  Of thy return, lest, if some other God

  Should wake the Trojans, thou shouldst need to fly."

  She said; the heav'nly voice he recogniz'd,

  And mounted straight the car; Ulysses touch'd

  The horses with his bow; and, urg'd to speed,

  They tow'rd the ships their rapid course pursued.

  Nor idle watch Apollo kept, who saw

  Tydides o'er the plain by Pallas led;

  With anger fill'd, the Trojan camp he sought;

  And Rhesus' kinsman, good Hippocoon,

  The Thracian councillor, from sleep arous'd;

  Awaking, when the vacant space he view'd,

  Where late had stood the horses; and his friends

  Gasping in death, and welt'ring in their blood,

  He groan'd as on his comrade's name he call'd:

  Then loud the clamour rose, and wild uproar,

  Unspeakable, of Trojans thronging round;

  They marvell'd at the deeds; but marvell'd more

  How they who wrought them had escap'd unscath'd.

  Meantime arriv'd where Hector's scout they slew,

  Ulysses, lov'd of Heav'n, a moment check'd

  His eager steeds; Tydides from the car

  Leap'd to the ground, and in Ulysses' hand

  The bloody trophies plac'd; then mounted quick,

  And tow'rd the ships, their destin'd goal, urg'd on

  The fiery horses; nothing loth, they flew.

  Nestor first heard the sound, and cried, "O friends,

  The leaders and the councillors of Greece,

  Am I deceiv'd, or is it true? methinks

  The sound of horses, hurrying, strikes mine ear;

  Grant Heav'n, Ulysses and brave Diomed

  May bring those horses from the Trojan camp;

  Yet much I fear our bravest may have met

  With some disaster 'mid the crowd of foes."

  He scarce had ended, when themselves appear'd,

  And from the car descended: welcom'd back


  With cordial grasp of hands, and friendly words.

  Gerenian Nestor first, enquiring, said:

  "Tell me, renown'd Ulysses, pride of Greece,

  Whence come these horses? from the Trojan camp?

  Or hath some God, that met you by the way,

  Bestow'd them, radiant as the beams of light?

  Among the Trojans day by day I move;

  'Tis not my wont; old warrior though I be,

  To lag behind; but horses such as these

  I never saw; some God hath giv'n them, sure;

  For Jove, the Cloud-compeller, loves you both,

  And Pallas, child of aegis-bearing Jove."

  To whom again the sage Ulysses thus:

  "O Nestor, son of Neleus, pride of Greece,

  Had they so will'd, the Gods, so great their pow'r,

  E'en better horses could have giv'n than these;

  But these, old man, are Thracians, newly come;

  Whose King the valiant Diomed hath slain,

  And with him twelve, the best of all his band.

  A scout too have we slain, by Hector sent,

  And by the Trojan chiefs, to spy our camp."

  He said, and o'er the ditch the horses drove,

  Exulting in their prize; and with him went

  The other chiefs, rejoicing, through the camp.

  Arriv'd at Diomed's well-order'd tent,

  First with strong halters to the rack, where stood,

  High-fed with corn, his own swift-footed steeds,

  The horses they secur'd; Ulysses then

  The bloody spoils of Dolon stow'd away

  In the ship's stern, till fitting sacrifice

  To Pallas might be offer'd; to the sea

  Descending then, they wash'd away the sweat,

  Which on their necks, and thighs, and knees had dried;

  The sweat wash'd off, and in the ocean waves

  Themselves refresh'd, they sought the polish'd bath;

  Then, by the bath restor'd, and all their limbs

  Anointed freely with the lissom oil,

  Sat down to breakfast; and from flowing bowls

  In Pallas' honour pour'd the luscious wine.

  ARGUMENT.

  THE THIRD BATTLE, AND THE ACTS OF AGAMEMNON.

  Agamemnon, having armed himself, leads the Grecians to battle; Hector prepares the Trojans to receive them; while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, give the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all before him; and Hector is commanded by Jupiter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline the engagement, till the king should be wounded, and retire from the field. He then makes a great slaughter of the enemy; Ulysses and Diomed put a stop to him for a time; but the latter, being wounded by Paris, is obliged to desert his companion, who is encompassed by the Trojans, wounded, and in the utmost danger, till Menelaus and Ajax rescue him. Hector comes against Ajax, but that hero alone opposes multitudes and rallies the Greeks. In the meantime Machaon, in the other wing of the army, is pierced with an arrow by Paris, and carried from the fight in Nestor's chariot. Achilles (who overlooked the action from his ship) sends Patroclus to inquire which of the Greeks was wounded in that manner. Nestor entertains him in his tent with an account of the accidents of the day, and a long recital of some former wars which he had remembered, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight for his countrymen, or at least to permit him to do it clad in Achilles' armour. Patroclus in his return meets Eurypylus also wounded, and assists in that distress.

  This book opens with the eight-and-twentieth day of the poem; and the same day, with its various actions and adventures, is extended through the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and part of the eighteenth books. The scene lies in the field near the monument of Ilus.

  BOOK XI.

  Now rose Aurora from Tithonus' bed,

  To mortals and Immortals bringing light;

  When to the ships of Greece came Discord down,

  Despatch'd from Jove, with dire portents of war.

  Upon Ulysses' lofty ship she stood,

  The midmost, thence to shout to either side,

  Or to the tents of Ajax Telamon,

  Or of Achilles, who at each extreme,

  Confiding in their strength, had moor'd their ships.

  There stood the Goddess, and in accents loud

  And dread she call'd, and fix'd in ev'ry breast

  The fierce resolve to wage unwearied war;

  And dearer to their hearts than thoughts of home

  Or wish'd return, became the battle-field.

  Atrides, loudly shouting, call'd the Greeks

  To arms: himself his flashing armour donn'd.

  First on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix'd,

  Fasten'd with silver clasps; his ample chest

  A breastplate guarded, giv'n by Cinyras

  In pledge of friendship; for in Cyprus' isle

  He heard the rumour of the glorious fleet

  About to sail for Troy; and sought with gifts

  To win the favour of the mighty King.

  Ten bands were there inwrought of dusky bronze,

  Twelve of pure gold, twice ten of shining tin:

  Of bronze six dragons upwards tow'rds the neck

  Their length extended, three on either side:

  In colour like the bow, which Saturn's son

  Plac'd in the clouds, a sign to mortal men:

  Then o'er his shoulder threw his sword; bright flash'd

  The golden studs; the silver scabbard shone,

  With golden baldrick fitted; next his shield

  He took, full-siz'd, well-wrought, well-prov'd in fight;

  Around it ran ten circling rims of brass;

  With twenty bosses round of burnish'd tin,

  And, in the centre, one of dusky bronze.

  A Gorgon's head, with aspect terrible,

  Was wrought, with Fear and Flight encircled round:

  Depending from a silver belt it hung;

  And on the belt a dragon, wrought in bronze,

  Twin'd his lithe folds, and turn'd on ev'ry side,

  Sprung from a single neck, his triple head.

  Then on his brow his lofty helm he plac'd,

  Four-crested, double-peak'd, with horsehair plumes,

  That nodded,-fearful, from the warrior's head.

  Then took two weighty lances, tipp'd with brass,

  Which fiercely flash'd against the face of Heav'n:

  Pallas and Juno thund'ring from on high

  In honour of Mycenae's wealthy lord.

  Forthwith they order'd, each his charioteer,

  To stay his car beside the ditch; themselves,

  On foot, in arms accoutred, sallied forth,

  And loud, ere early dawn, the clamour rose.

  Advanc'd before the cars, they lin'd the ditch;

  Follow'd the cars, a little space between:

  But Jove with dire confusion fill'd their ranks,

  Who sent from Heav'n a show'r of blood-stain'd rain.

  In sign of many a warrior's coming doom,

  Soon to the viewless shades untimely sent.

  Meanwhile upon the slope, beneath the plain,

  The Trojan chiefs were gather'd; Hector's self,

  Polydamas, AEneas, as a God

  In rev'rence held; Antenor's three brave sons,

  Agenor's godlike presence, Polybus,

  And, heav'nly fair, the youthful Acamas.

  In front was seen the broad circumference

  Of Hector's shield; and as amid the clouds

  Shines forth the fiery dog-star, bright and clear,

  Anon beneath the cloudy veil conceal'd;

  So now in front was Hector seen, and now

  Pass'd to the rear, exhorting; all in brass,

  His burnish'd arms like Jove's own lightning flash'd.

  As in the corn-land of some wealthy Lord

  The rival bands of reapers mow the swathe,

  Barl
ey or wheat; and fast the trusses fall;

  So Greeks and Trojans mow'd th' opposing ranks;

  Nor these admitted thought of faint retreat,

  But still made even head; while those, like wolves,

  Rush'd to the onset; Discord, Goddess dire,

  Beheld, rejoicing; of the heav'nly pow'rs

  She only mingled with the combatants;

  The others all were absent; they, serene,

  Repos'd in gorgeous palaces, for each

  Amid Olympus' deep recesses built.

  Yet all the cloud-girt son of Saturn blam'd,

  Who will'd the vict'ry to the arms of Troy.

  He heeded not their anger; but withdrawn

  Apart from all, in pride of conscious strength,

  Survey'd the walls of Troy, the ships of Greece,

  The flash of arms, the slayers and the slain.

  While yet 'twas morn, and wax'd the youthful day,

  Thick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell

  On either side: but when the hour was come

  When woodmen, in the forest's deep recess,

  Prepare their food, and wearied with the toil

  Of felling loftiest trees, with aching arms

  Turn with keen relish to their midday meal;

  Then Grecian valour broke th' opposing ranks,

  As each along the line encourag'd each;

  First sprang the monarch Agamemnon forth,

  And brave Bienor slew, his people's guard;

  And, with the chief, his friend and charioteer,

  Oileus; he, down-leaping from the car,

  Stood forth defiant; but between his brows

  The monarch's spear was thrust; nor aught avail'd

  The brass-bound helm, to stay the weapon's point;

  Through helm and bone it pass'd, and all the brain

  Was shatter'd; forward as he rush'd, he fell.

  Them left he there, their bare breasts gleaming white,

  Stripp'd of their arms; and hasten'd in pursuit

  Of Antiphus and Isus, Priam's sons,

  A bastard one, and one legitimate,

  Both on one car; the bastard held the reins:

  Beside him stood the gallant Antiphus.

  Them, as they fed their flocks on Ida's heights,

  Achilles once had captive made, and bound

  With willow saplings, till for ransom freed.

  The mighty monarch, Agamemnon, drove

  Through Isus' breast his spear; his weighty sword

  Descended on the head of Antiphus

  Beside the ear, and hurl'd him from his car;

  These of their armour he despoil'd in haste,

  Known to him both; for he had seen them oft

  Beside the ships, when thither captive brought

  From Ida by Achilles, swift of foot.