Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  As when a lion in their lair hath seiz'd

  The helpless offspring of a mountain doe,

  And breaks their bones with ease, and with strong teeth

  Crushes their tender life; nor can their dam,

  Though close at hand she be, avail them aught;

  For she herself by deadly terror seiz'd,

  Through the thick coppice and the forest flies,

  Panting, and bath'd in sweat, the monster's rush;

  So dar'd no Trojan give those brethren aid,

  Themselves in terror of the warlike Greeks.

  Peisander next, and bold Hippolochus,

  Sons of Antimachus ('twas he who chief,

  Seduc'd by Paris' gold and splendid gifts,

  Advis'd the restitution to refuse

  Of Helen to her Lord), the King assail'd;

  Both on one car; but from their hands had dropp'd

  The broider'd reins; bewilder'd there they stood;

  While, with a lion's bound, upon them sprang

  The son of Atreus; suppliant, in the car,

  They clasp'd his knees; "Give quarter, Atreus' son,

  Redeem our lives; our sire Antimachus

  Possesses goodly store 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 we yet surviv'd."

  Thus they, with gentle words, and tears, imploring;

  But all ungentle was the voice they heard

  In answer; "If indeed ye be the sons

  Of that Antimachus, who counsel gave,

  When noble Menelaus came to Troy

  With sage Ulysses, as ambassadors,

  To slay them both, nor suffer their return,

  Pay now the forfeit of your father's guilt."

  He said, and with a spear-thrust through his breast

  Peisander dash'd to earth; backward he fell.

  Down leap'd Hippolochus; but Atreus' son

  Severing his hands and neck, amid the throng

  Sent whirling like a bowl the gory head.

  These left he there; and where the thickest throng

  Maintain'd the tug of war, thither he flew,

  And with him eager hosts of well-greav'd Greeks.

  Soon on the Trojans' flight enforc'd they hung,

  Destroying; foot on foot, and horse on horse;

  While from the plain thick clouds of dust arose

  Beneath the armed hoofs of clatt'ring steeds;

  And on the monarch Agamemnon press'd,

  Still slaying, urging still the Greeks to arms.

  As when amid a densely timber'd wood

  Light the devouring flames, by eddying winds

  Hither and thither borne, fast falls the copse

  Prostrate beneath the fire's impetuous course;

  So thickly fell the flying Trojans' heads

  Beneath the might of Agamemnon's arm;

  And here and there, athwart the pass of war,

  Was many an empty car at random whirl'd

  By strong-neck'd steeds, of guiding hands bereft;

  Stretch'd on the plain they lay, more welcome sight

  To carrion birds than to their widow'd wives.

  But Hector, from the fray and din of war,

  And dust, and blood, and carnage, Jove withdrew.

  Still on Atrides press'd, the Greek pursuit

  With eager shouts exciting; past the tomb

  Of Ilus, ancient son of Dardanus,

  And tow'rd the fig-tree, midway o'er the plain,

  Straining to gain the town, the Trojans fled;

  While loudly shouting, his unconquer'd hands

  With carnage dyed, Atrides urg'd their flight.

  But when the Scaean gates and oak were reach'd,

  They made a stand, and fac'd the foe's assault.

  Some o'er the open plain were yet dispers'd;

  As heifers, by a lion scatter'd wide,

  At dead of night; all fly; on one descends

  The doom of death; her with his pow'rful teeth

  He seizes, and, her neck first broken, rends,

  And on her entrails gorging, laps her blood.

  So these the monarch Agamemnon chas'd,

  Slaying the hindmost; they in terror fled:

  Some headlong, backward some, Atrides' hand

  Hurl'd from their chariot many a warrior bold;

  So forward and so fierce he bore his spear.

  But as he near'd the city, and stood beneath

  The lofty wall, the Sire of Gods and men

  From Heav'n descended; on the topmost height

  Of Ida's spring-abounding hill he sat:

  And while his hand the lightning grasp'd, he thus

  To golden-winged Iris gave command:

  "Haste thee, swift Iris, and to Hector bear

  From me this message; bid him, that as long

  As Agamemnon in the van appears,

  Raging, and dealing death among the ranks,

  He from the battle keep himself aloof,

  But urge the rest undaunted to maintain

  The stubborn fight; but should Atrides, struck

  By spear or arrow, to his car withdraw,

  He shall from me receive such pow'r to slay,

  As to the ships shall bear him, ere the sun

  Decline, and Darkness spread her hallowing shade."

  Thus he; to Troy, obedient to his word,

  From Ida's heights swift-footed Iris sped:

  Amid the horses and the well-fram'd cars

  The godlike Hector, Priam's son, she found,

  And stood beside him, and address'd him thus:

  "Hector, thou son of Priam, sage as Jove

  In council, he the Universal Lord

  Sends thee by me this message; that as long

  As Agamemnon in the van appears,

  Raging, and dealing death amid the ranks,

  Thou from the battle keep thyself aloof,

  But urge the rest undaunted to maintain

  The stubborn fight; but should Atrides, struck

  By spear or arrow, to his car withdraw,

  Thou shalt from him receive such pow'r to slay

  As to the ships shall bear thee, ere the sun

  Decline, and Darkness spread her hallowing shade."

  Swift-footed Iris said, and disappear'd;

  But from his chariot Hector leap'd to earth,

  Hither and thither passing through the ranks,

  With brandish'd jav'lins urging to the fight.

  Loud, at his bidding, rose the battle-cry;

  Back roll'd the tide; again they fac'd the Greeks:

  On th' other side the Greeks their masses form'd,

  In line of battle rang'd; opposed they stood;

  And in the front, to none content to cede

  The foremost place, was Agamemnon seen.

  Say now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell,

  Of all the Trojans and their fam'd Allies,

  Who first oppos'd to Agamemnon stood.

  Iphidamas, Antenor's gallant son,

  Stalwart and brave; in fertile Thracia bred,

  Mother of flocks; him, in his infant years,

  His grandsire Cisseus, fair Theano's sire,

  In his own palace rear'd; and when he reach'd

  The perfect measure of his glorious youth,

  Still in his house retain'd him, and to wife

  Gave him his daughter; but when tidings came

  Of Grecian warfare, from the marriage straight

  Embarking, with twelve beaked ships he sailed,

  That owned his sway; these on Percote's shore

  He left; and came himself on foot to Troy;

  Who now confronted Atreus' godlike son.

  When near they drew, Atrides miss'd his aim,

  His spear diverging; then Iphidamas

  Beneath the breastplate, striking on his belt,

  Strove with stron
g hand to drive the weapon home:

  Yet could not pierce the belt's close-plaited work;

  The point, encounter'd by the silver fold,

  Was bent, like lead; then with his pow'rful hand

  The monarch Agamemnon seiz'd the spear,

  And tow'rd him drew, and with a lion's strength

  Wrench'd from his foeman's grasp; then on his neck

  Let fall his sword, and slack'd his limbs in death.

  There, falling in his country's cause, he slept

  The iron sleep of death; unhappy he,

  Far from his virgin-bride, yet unpossess'd,

  Though bought with costly presents; first he gave

  A hundred steers; and promis'd thousands more

  Of sheep and goats from out his countless flocks.

  Him Agamemnon of his arms despoil'd,

  And to the crowd of Greeks the trophies bore.

  But when Antenor's eldest-born beheld,

  Coon, th' observ'd of all men, bitt'rest grief

  His eyes o'ershadow'd, for his brother's fate;

  And, unperceiv'd by Atreus' godlike son,

  Standing aside, he struck him with his spear,

  Through the mid arm, beneath the elbow's bend;

  And drove right through the weapon's glitt'ring point.

  Writh'd with the pain the mighty King of men;

  Yet from the combat flinch'd he not, nor quail'd:

  But grasping firm his weather-toughen'd spear

  On Coon rush'd, as by the feet he drew

  His father's son, Iphidamas, away,

  Invoking all the bravest to his aid;

  And as he drew the body tow'rd the crowd,

  Beneath the bossy shield the monarch thrust

  His brass-clad spear, and slack'd his limbs in death;

  Then near approaching, ev'n upon the corpse

  Of dead Iphidamas, struck off his head:

  So by Atrides' hand, Antenor's sons,

  Their doom accomplish'd, to the shades were sent.

  Then through the crowded ranks, with spear and sword,

  And massive stones, he held his furious course,

  While the hot blood was welling from his arm;

  But when the wound was dry, and stanch'd the blood,

  Keen anguish then Atrides' might subdued.

  As when a woman in her labour-throes

  Sharp pangs encompass, by Lucina sent,

  Who rules o'er child-birth travail, ev'n so keen

  The pangs that then Atrides' might subdued.

  Mounting his car he bade his charioteer

  Drive to the ships; for sore his spirit was pain'd;

  But loud and clear he shouted to the Greeks:

  "O friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,

  Yours be it now our sea-borne ships to guard:

  Since Jove, the Lord of counsel, through the day

  Wills not that I the battle should maintain."

  He said: and swiftly to the ships were driv'n

  His sleek-skinn'd coursers; nothing loth they flew;

  With foam their chests were fleck'd, with dust their flanks,

  As from the field their wounded Lord they bore:

  But Hector, as he saw the King retire,

  To Trojans and to Lycians call'd aloud:

  "Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam'd

  In close encounter, quit ye now like men;

  Put forth your wonted valour; from the field

  Their bravest has withdrawn, and Jove on me

  Great glory hath shed; now headlong on the Greeks

  Urge your swift steeds, and endless honour gain."

  His words fresh courage rous'd in ev'ry breast:

  And as a hunter cheers his sharp-fang'd hounds

  On forest boar or lion; on the Greeks

  So cheer'd the valiant Trojans Priam's son,

  Illustrious Hector, stern as blood-stain'd Mars.

  Bent on high deeds, himself in front advanc'd,

  Fell on the masses as a whirlwind falls,

  Lashing with furious sweep the dark-blue sea.

  Say then, who first, who last, by Hector's hand,

  Whom Jove had will'd to crown with honour, died.

  Assaeus first, and then Autonous,

  Opites, and Opheltius, Dolops, son

  Of Clytus, and AEsumnus, Agelas

  And Orus, and brave Hipponous;

  All these the chiefs of Greece; the nameless crowd

  He scatter'd next; as when the west wind drives

  The clouds, and battles with the hurricane,

  Before the clearing blast of Notus driv'n;

  The big waves heave and roll, and high aloft,

  The gale, careering, flings the ocean spray;

  So thick and furious fell on hostile heads

  The might of Hector. Now had fearful deeds

  Been done, and Greeks beside their ships had fall'n

  In shameful rout, had not Ulysses thus

  To Diomed, the son of Tydeus, call'd:

  "Why, son of Tydeus, should we thus relax

  Our warlike courage? come, stand by me now,

  True friend! if Hector of the glancing helm

  Our ships should capture, great were our disgrace."

  Whom answer'd thus the valiant Diomed:

  "Beside thee will I stand, and still endure;

  But brief will be the term of our success,

  Since Jove, the Cloud-compeller, not to us,

  But to the Trojans, wills the victory."

  He said, and from his car Thymbraeus hurl'd,

  Through the left breast transfix'd: Ulysses' hand

  His charioteer, the brave Molion, slew.

  These left they there, no more to share the fight;

  Then turning, spread confusion 'mid the crowd:

  As turn two boars upon the hunter's pack

  With desp'rate courage, turning so to bay,

  Those two, the Trojans scatt'ring, gave the Greeks,

  From Hector flying, time again to breathe.

  A car they seiz'd which bore two valiant chiefs,

  Sons of Percotian Merops; he, o'er all

  In lore prophetic skill'd, would fain at home

  Have kept them from the life-destroying war:

  But they, by adverse fate impell'd to seek

  Their doom of death, his warning voice despis'd.

  These two, of strength and life at once bereft,

  The son of Tydeus, valiant Diomed,

  Stripp'd of their armour; while Ulysses slew

  Hippodamus, and bold Hyperochus.

  Thus Jove, from Ida's height beholding, held

  His even scale, each party slaught'ring each.

  Then with his spear Tydides through the loins

  Agastrophus, the son of Paeon, smote;

  No car had he at hand, whereto to fly:

  But, ill-advis'd, had in th' attendants' charge

  His horses left far off; while he himself

  Rush'd 'mid the throng on foot, and met his doom.

  Hector's quick glance athwart the files beheld,

  And to the rescue, with a shout, he sprang,

  The Trojan columns following; not unmov'd

  The valiant Diomed his coming saw,

  And thus bespoke Ulysses at his side:

  "On us this plague, this mighty Hector, falls:

  Yet stand we firm, and boldly meet the shock."

  He said, and, poising, hurl'd his pond'rous spear,

  And not in vain; on Hector's head it struck

  His helmet's crest, but, brass encount'ring brass,

  Himself it reach'd not; for the visor'd helm,

  Apollo's gift, three-plated, stay'd its force.

  Yet backward Hector sprang amid the crowd,

  And on his knees he dropp'd, his stalwart hand

  Propp'd on the ground; while darkness veil'd his eyes.

  But ere Tydides, following up his spear,

  Attain'd fr
om far the spot whereon he fell,

  Hector reviv'd, and mounting quick his car,

  Drove 'mid the crowd, and 'scap'd the doom of death

  Then thus, with threat'ning spear, Tydides cried:

  "Yet once again, vile hound, hast thou escap'd;

  Thy doom was nigh; but thee thy God hath sav'd,

  Phoebus, to whom, amid the clash of spears,

  Well mayst thou pray! We yet shall meet again;

  When I shall end thee, if a guardian God

  I too may claim; meanwhile from thee I turn,

  And others seek on whom my hap may light."

  He said, and turn'd him of his arms to strip

  The son of Paeon; but beside the stone

  That mark'd where men of old had rais'd a mound

  To Ilus, Dardan's son, the ancient chief,

  There crouching, Paris, fair-hair'd Helen's Lord,

  Against the son of Tydeus bent his bow.

  He from the breast of brave Agastrophus

  Had stripp'd the corslet; from his shoulders broad

  The buckler, and the helmet from his head,

  When Paris bent his bow, and not in vain

  His arrow launch'd; Tydides' dexter foot

  Right through it pierc'd, and pinn'd it to the ground.

  Joyous he laugh'd, and from his hiding place

  Sprang forth, and thus in tones of triumph cried:

  "Thou hast it! not in vain my shaft hath flown!

  Would that, deep buried in thy flank, it touch'd

  Thy very life! so should our Trojans lose

  Their panic fear, who now on thee with dread,

  As bleating goats upon a lion, look."

  To whom, unmov'd, the valiant Diomed:

  "Poor archer, trusting to thy bow alone,

  Vile sland'rer and seducer! if indeed

  Thou durst in arms oppos'd to me to stand,

  Nought would avail thy arrows and thy bow:

  And now, because thy shaft hath graz'd my foot,

  Thou mak'st thine empty boast: I heed thee not,

  More than a woman or a puny child:

  A worthless coward's weapon hath no point.

  'Tis diff'rent far with me! though light it fall,

  My spear is sharp, and whom it strikes, it slays.

  His widow's cheeks are mark'd with scars of grief,

  His children orphans; rotting on the ground,

  Red with his blood, he lies, his fun'ral rites

  By carrion birds, and not by women paid."

  Thus while he spoke, Ulysses, spearman bold,

  Drew near, and stood before him; he, behind,

  Sat down protected, and from out his foot

  The arrow drew; whereat sharp anguish shot

  Through all his flesh; and mounting on his car

  He bade his faithful charioteer in haste

  Drive to the ships, for pain weigh'd down his soul.

  Alone Ulysses stood; of all the Greeks