Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Not one beside him; all were panic-struck:

  Then with his spirit, perturb'd, he commun'd thus:

  "Me miserable! which way shall I choose?

  'Twere ill indeed that I should turn to flight

  By hostile numbers daunted; yet 'twere worse

  Here to be caught alone; and Saturn's son

  With panic fear the other Greeks hath fill'd.

  Yet why, my soul, admit such thoughts as these?

  I know that cowards from the battle fly;

  But he who boasts a warrior's name, must learn,

  Wounded or wounding, firmly still to stand."

  While in his mind and spirit thus he mus'd,

  Onward the buckler'd ranks of Trojans came,

  And, to their harm, encircled him around.

  As when a boar, by dogs and stalwart youths

  Attack'd, the shelt'ring thicket leaves, and whets

  The tusks that gleam between his curved jaws;

  They crowd around, though ring his clatt'ring tusks,

  And, fearful though it be, await his rush:

  So crowded round Ulysses, dear to Jove,

  The Trojans; he, with brandish'd spear aloft,

  Sprang forth, and through the shoulder, from above,

  Deiopites wounded: Thoon next

  He slew, and Ennomus; then with his spear

  Chersidamas, in act to quit his car,

  Thrust through the loins below his bossy shield:

  Prone in the dust, he clutch'd the blood-stain'd soil.

  From these he turn'd; and wounded with his spear

  Charops, the high-born Socus' brother, son

  Of Hippasus; then forward sprang, to aid

  His brother, godlike Socus; close he stood

  Before Ulysses, and address'd him thus:

  "Far-fam'd Ulysses, as in arms, in wiles

  Unwearied, thou this day o'er both the sons

  Of Hippasus, two mighty warriors slain,

  And of their armour spoil'd, shalt make thy boast,

  Or by my spear thyself shalt lose thy life."

  He said, and on the shield's broad circle struck:

  Through the bright shield the sturdy weapon drove,

  And through the rich-wrought baldrick, from the ribs

  Tearing the flesh away; but Pallas seiz'd,

  And turn'd it from the vital parts aside.

  The wound, Ulysses knew, was not to death,

  And back he drew, and thus to Socus cried:

  "Ill-fated thou! thy doom hath found thee now;

  Me hast thou hinder'd from the war awhile;

  But thee to swift destruction and dark death,

  This day I doom: great glory, of thee subdued,

  Shall I obtain, and Hades take thy soul."

  Thus he: and Socus, turning, sought to fly;

  But as he turn'd him round, Ulysses' spear

  Behind his neck, between the shoulder blades

  Was driv'n, and through his chest; thund'ring he fell,

  And o'er his fall Ulysses, vaunting, thus:

  "Socus, thou son of warlike Hippasus,

  Here hast thou found, nor couldst escape, thy doom.

  Ill-fated thou! nor sire's nor mother's hand

  Shall gather up thy bones, but carrion birds

  O'er thee shall flap their baleful wings, and tear

  Thy mangled flesh; for me, whene'er I die

  The sons of Greece will build my fun'ral pile."

  From out his flesh, and from the bossy shield,

  The spear of Socus, as he spoke, he drew;

  And as he drew it forth, out gush'd his blood,

  With anguish keen. The Trojans, when they saw

  Ulysses' blood, with clam'rous shouts advanc'd

  Promiscuous; he, retiring, shouted loud

  To call his comrades; loud as head of man

  Could bear, he shouted thrice; and thrice his shout

  The warlike Menelaus heard, and thus

  To Ajax, standing by his side, he spoke:

  "Ajax, thou Heav'n-born son of Telamon,

  Great chief of men, methinks I hear the voice

  Of stout Ulysses, as though left alone,

  And in the stubborn fight cut off from aid,

  By Trojans overmaster'd. Haste we then,

  For so 'twere best, to give him present aid.

  Brave though he be, yet left alone, I fear

  Great cause we Greeks may have to mourn his loss."

  He spoke, and led the way; the godlike chief

  Follow'd his steps: Ulysses, dear to Jove,

  Surrounded by the Trojan host they found,

  As hungry jackals on the mountain side

  Around a stag, that from an archer's hand

  Hath taken hurt, yet while his blood was warm

  And limbs yet serv'd, has baffled his pursuit;

  But when the fatal shaft has drain'd his strength,

  Thirsting for blood, beneath the forest shade,

  The jackals seize their victim; then if chance

  A hungry lion pass, the jackals shrink

  In terror back, while he devours the prey;

  So round Ulysses, sage in council, press'd

  The Trojans, many and brave, yet nobly he

  Averted, spear in hand, the fatal hour;

  Till, with his tow'r-like shield before him borne,

  Appear'd great Ajax, and beside him stood.

  Hither and thither then the Trojans fled;

  While with supporting arm from out the crowd

  The warlike Menelaus led him forth,

  Till his attendant with his car drew near.

  Then Ajax, on the Trojans springing, slew

  Doryclus, royal Priam's bastard son;

  Next Pyrasus he smote, and Pandocus,

  Lysander, and Pylartes; as a stream,

  Swoll'n by the rains of Heav'n, that from the hills

  Pours down its wintry torrent on the plain;

  And many a blighted oak, and many a pine

  It bears, with piles of drift-wood, to the sea

  So swept illustrious Ajax o'er the plain,

  O'erthrowing men and horses; though unknown

  To Hector; he, upon Scamander's banks

  Was warring on the field's extremest left,

  Where round great Nestor and the warlike King

  Idomeneus, while men were falling fast,

  Rose, irrepressible, the battle cry.

  Hector, 'mid these, was working wondrous deeds,

  With spear and car, routing th' opposed youth;

  Yet had the Greeks ev'n so their ground maintain'd,

  But godlike Paris, fair-hair'd Helen's Lord,

  Through the right shoulder, with a three-barb'd shaft,

  As in the front he fought, Machaon quell'd:

  For him the warrior Greeks were sore afraid

  Lest he, as back the line of battle roll'd,

  Might to the foe be left; to Nestor then

  Idomeneus address'd his speech, and said:

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

  Haste thee to mount thy car, and with thee take

  Machaon; tow'rd the vessels urge with speed

  The flying steeds; worth many a life is his,

  The skilful leech, who knows, with practis'd hand,

  T' extract the shaft, and healing drugs apply."

  He said: Gerenian Nestor at the word

  Mounted his car, Machaon at his side,

  The skilful leech, sage AEsculapius' son:

  He touch'd his horses; tow'rd the Grecian ships,

  As was his purpose, nothing loth, they flew.

  To Hector then Cebriones, who saw

  Confus'd the Trojans' right, drew near, and said:

  "Hector, we here, on th' outskirts of the field,

  O'erpow'r the Greeks; on th' other side, our friends

  In strange confusion mingled, horse and man,

  Are driv'n; among them Ajax spre
ads dismay,

  The son of Telamon; I know him well,

  And the broad shield that o'er his shoulders hangs;

  Thither direct we then our car, where most

  In mutual slaughter horse and foot engage,

  And loudest swells, uncheck'd, the battle cry."

  He said, and with the pliant lash he touch'd

  The sleek-skinn'd horses; springing at the sound,

  Between the Greeks and Trojans, light they bore

  The flying car, o'er bodies of the slain

  And broken bucklers trampling; all beneath

  Was plash'd with blood the axle, and the rails

  Around the car, as from the horses' feet,

  And from the felloes of the wheels, were thrown

  The bloody gouts; yet on he sped, to join

  The strife of men, and break th' opposing ranks.

  His coming spread confusion 'mid the Greeks,

  His spear awhile withheld; then through the rest,

  With sword, and spear, and pond'rous stones he rush'd,

  But shunn'd the might of Ajax Telamon.

  But Jove, high thron'd, the soul of Ajax fill'd

  With fear; aghast he stood; his sev'nfold shield

  He threw behind his back, and, trembling, gaz'd

  Upon the crowd; then, like some beast of prey,

  Foot slowly following foot, reluctant turn'd.

  As when the rustic youths and dogs have driv'n

  A tawny lion from the cattle fold,

  Watching all night, and baulk'd him of his prey;

  Rav'ning for flesh, he still th' attempt renews,

  But still in vain: for many a jav'lin, hurl'd

  By vig'rous arms, confronts him to his face,

  And blazing faggots, that his courage daunt;

  Till, with the dawn, reluctant he retreat:

  So from before the Trojans Ajax turn'd,

  Reluctant, fearing for the ships of Greece.

  As near a field of corn, a stubborn ass,

  Upon whose sides had many a club been broke,

  O'erpow'rs his boyish guides, and ent'ring in,

  On the rich forage grazes; while the boys

  Their cudgels ply, but vain their puny strength,

  Yet drive him out, when fully fed, with ease:

  Ev'n so great Ajax, son of Telamon,

  The valiant Trojans and their fam'd Allies,

  Still thrusting at his shield, before them drove:

  Yet would he sometimes, rallying, hold in check

  The Trojan host; then turn again to flight,

  Yet barring still the passage to the ships.

  Midway between the Trojans and the Greeks

  He stood defiant; many jav'lins, hurl'd

  By vig'rous arms, were in their flight receiv'd

  On his broad shield; and many, ere they reach'd

  Their living mark, fell midway on the plain,

  Fix'd in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.

  Him thus, hard press'd by thick-thrown spears, beheld

  Eurypylus, Euaemon's noble son.

  He hasten'd up, and aim'd his glitt'ring spear;

  And Apisaon, Phausias' noble son,

  Below the midriff through the liver struck,

  And straight relax'd in sudden death his limbs.

  Forth sprang Eurypylus to seize the spoils:

  But godlike Paris saw, and as he stoop'd

  From Apisaon's corpse to strip his arms,

  Against Eurypylus he bent his bow,

  And his right thigh transfix'd; the injur'd limb

  Disabling, in the wound the arrow broke.

  He 'mid his friends, escaping death, withdrew,

  And to the Greeks with piercing shout he call'd:

  "O friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,

  Turn yet again, and from the doom of death

  Great Ajax save, hard press'd by hostile spears:

  Scarce can I hope he may escape with life

  The desp'rate fight; yet bravely stand, and aid

  The mighty Ajax, son of Telamon."

  Thus spoke the wounded hero: round him they

  With sloping shields and spears uplifted stood:

  Ajax to meet them came; and when he reach'd

  The friendly ranks, again he turn'd to bay.

  So rag'd, like blazing fire, the furious fight.

  Meanwhile the mares of Neleus, drench'd with sweat,

  Bore Nestor and Machaon from the field;

  Achilles saw, and mark'd them where he stood

  Upon his lofty vessel's prow, and watch'd

  The grievous toil, the lamentable rout.

  Then on his friend Patroclus from the ship

  He call'd aloud; he heard his voice, and forth,

  As Mars majestic, from the tent he came:

  (That day commenc'd his evil destiny)

  And thus Menoetius' noble son began:

  "Why call'st thou me? what wouldst thou, Peleus' son?"

  To whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied:

  "Son of Menoetius, dearest to my soul,

  Soon, must the suppliant Greeks before me kneel,

  So insupportable is now their need.

  But haste thee now, Patroclus, dear to Jove:

  Enquire of Nestor, from the battle field

  Whom brings he wounded: looking from behind

  Most like he seem'd to AEsculapius' son,

  Machaon; but his face I could not see,

  So swiftly past the eager horses flew."

  He said: obedient to his friend's command,

  Quick to the tents and ships Patroclus ran.

  They, when they reach'd the tent of Neleus' son,

  Descended to the ground; Eurymedon

  The old man's mares unharness'd from the car,

  While on the beach they fac'd the cooling breeze,

  Which from their garments dried the sweat; then turn'd,

  And in the tent on easy seats repos'd.

  For them the fair-hair'd Hecamede mix'd

  A cordial potion; her from Tenedos,

  When by Achilles ta'en, the old man brought;

  Daughter of great Arsinous, whom the Greeks

  On him, their sagest councillor, bestow'd.

  Before them first a table fair she spread,

  Well polish'd, and with feet of solid bronze;

  On this a brazen canister she plac'd,

  And onions, as a relish to the wine,

  And pale clear honey, and pure barley meal:

  By these a splendid goblet, which from home

  Th' old man had brought, with golden studs adorn'd:

  Four were its handles, and round each two doves

  Appear'd to feed; at either end, a cup.

  Scarce might another move it from the board,

  When full; but aged Nestor rais'd with ease.

  In this, their goddess-like attendant first

  A gen'rous measure mix'd of Pramnian wine:

  Then with a brazen grater shredded o'er

  The goatsmilk cheese, and whitest barley meal,

  And of the draught compounded bade them drink.

  They drank, and then, reliev'd the parching thirst,

  With mutual converse entertain'd the hour.

  Before the gate divine Patroclus stood:

  The old man saw, and from his seat arose,

  And took him by the hand, and led him in,

  And bade him sit; but he, refusing, said:

  "No seat for me, thou venerable sire!

  I must not stay; for he both awe and fear

  Commands, who hither sent me to enquire

  What wounded man thou hast; I need not ask,

  I know Machaon well, his people's guard.

  My errand done, I must my message bear

  Back to Achilles; and thou know'st thyself,

  Thou venerable sire, how stern his mood:

  Nay sometimes blames he, where no blame is due."

  To who
m Gerenian Nestor thus replied:

  "Whence comes Achilles' pity for the Greeks

  By Trojan weapons wounded? knows he not

  What depth of suff'ring through the camp prevails?

  How in the ships, by arrow or by spear

  Sore wounded, all our best and bravest lie?

  The valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed,

  Pierc'd by a shaft; Ulysses by a spear,

  And Agamemnon's self; Eurypylus

  By a sharp arrow through the thigh transfix'd;

  And here another, whom but now I bring,

  Shot by a bow, from off the battle field:

  Achilles, valiant as he is, the while

  For Grecian woes nor care nor pity feels.

  Waits he, until our ships beside the sea,

  In our despite, are burnt by hostile fires,

  And we be singly slain? not mine is now

  The strength I boasted once of active limbs.

  O that such youth and vigour yet were mine,

  As when about a cattle-lifting raid

  We fought th' Eleans; there Itymoneus

  I slew, the son of brave Hyperochus,

  Who dwelt in Elis; and my booty drove.

  He sought to guard the herd; but from my hand

  A jav'lin struck him in the foremost ranks:

  He fell, and terror seiz'd the rustic crowd.

  Abundant store of plunder from the plain

  We drove: of horned cattle fifty herds;

  As many flocks of sheep, as many droves

  Of swine, as many wide-spread herds of goats,

  And thrice so many golden-chesnut mares,

  The foals of many running with their dams.

  To Pylos, Neleus' city, these we drove

  By night; and much it gladden'd Neleus' heart,

  That I, though new to war, such prize had won.

  When morn appear'd, the clear-voic'd heralds call'd

  For all to whom from Elis debts were due;

  Collected thus, the Pylians' leading men

  Division made: for Elis ow'd us much;

  Such wrongs we few in Pylos had sustain'd.

  The might of Hercules in former years

  Had storm'd our town, and all our bravest slain.

  Twelve gallant sons had Neleus; I of these

  Alone was left; the others all were gone.

  Whence over-proud, th' Epeians treated us

  With insult, and high-handed violence.

  A herd of oxen now, and num'rous flock

  Of sheep, th' old man selected for himself,

  Three hundred, with their shepherds; for to him

  Large compensation was from Elis due.

  Train'd to the course, four horses, with their cars,

  He for the Tripod at th' Elean games

  Had sent to run; these Augeas, King of men,

  Detain'd, and bade the drivers home return,

  Bootless, and grieving for their horses' loss.