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Complete Works of Homer

Page 334

by Homer

So light it seem'd, by grace of Saturn's son.

  As in one hand a shepherd bears with ease

  A full-siz'd fleece, and scarcely feels the weight;

  So Hector tow'rd the portals bore the stone,

  Which clos'd the lofty double-folding gates,

  Within defended by two massive bars

  Laid crosswise, and with one cross bolt secur'd.

  Close to the gate he stood; and planting firm

  His foot, to give his arm its utmost pow'r,

  Full on the middle dash'd the mighty mass.

  The hinges both gave way; the pond'rous stone

  Fell inwards; widely gap'd the op'ning gates;

  Nor might the bars within the blow sustain:

  This way and that the sever'd portals flew

  Before the crashing missile; dark as night

  His low'ring brow, great Hector sprang within;

  Bright flash'd the brazen armour on his breast,

  As through the gates, two jav'lins in his hand,

  He sprang; the Gods except, no pow'r might meet

  That onset; blaz'd his eyes with lurid fire.

  Then to the Trojans, turning to the throng,

  He call'd aloud to scale the lofty wall;

  They heard, and straight obey'd; some scal'd the wall:

  Some through the strong-built gates continuous pour'd;

  While in confusion irretrievable

  Fled to their ships the panic-stricken Greeks.

  END OF VOLUME I.

  VOLUME II.

  ARGUMENT.

  THE FOURTH BATTLE CONTINUED, IN WHICH NEPTUNE ASSISTS THE GREEKS. THE ACTS OF IDOMENEUS.

  Neptune, concerned for the loss of the Grecians, upon seeing the fortification forced by Hector (who had entered the gate near the station of the Ajaces), assumes the shape of Calchas, and inspires those heroes to oppose him; then, in the form of one of the generals, encourages the other Greeks who had retired to their vessels. The Ajaces form their troops into a close phalanx, and put a stop to Hector and the Trojans. Several deeds of valour are performed; Meriones, losing his spear in the encounter, repairs to seek another at the tent of Idomeneus; this occasions a conversation between these two warriors, who return together to the battle. Idomeneus signalizes his courage above the rest; he kills Othryoneus, Asius, and Alcathous; Deiphobus and AEneas march against him, and at length Idomeneus retires. Menelaus wounds Helenus and kills Peisander. The Trojans are repulsed in the left wing. Hector still keeps his ground against the Ajaces, till, being galled by the Locrian slingers and archers, Polydamas advises to call a council of war: Hector approves his advice, but goes first to rally the Trojans; upbraids Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again, and renews the attack.

  The eight-and-twentieth day still continues. The scene is between the

  Grecian wall and the sea-shore.

  BOOK XIII.

  When Jove had Hector and the Trojans brought

  Close to the ships, he left them there to toil

  And strife continuous; turning his keen glance

  To view far off th' equestrian tribes of Thrace,

  The warlike Mysians, and the men who feed

  On milk of mares, thence Hippemolgi term'd;

  A peaceful race, the justest of mankind.

  On Troy he turn'd not once his piercing glance;

  Nor deem'd he any God would dare to give

  To Trojans or to Greeks his active aid.

  No careless watch the monarch Neptune kept:

  Wond'ring, he view'd the battle, where he sat

  Aloft on wooded Samos' topmost peak,

  Samos of Thrace; whence Ida's heights he saw,

  And Priam's city, and the ships of Greece.

  Thither ascended from the sea, he sat;

  And thence the Greeks, by Trojans overborne,

  Pitying he saw, and deeply wroth with Jove.

  Then down the mountain's craggy side he pass'd

  With rapid step; and as he mov'd along,

  Beneath th' immortal feet of Ocean's Lord

  Quak'd the huge mountain and the shadowy wood.

  Three strides he took; the fourth, he reach'd his goal,

  AEgae; where on the margin of the bay

  His temple stood, all glitt'ring, all of gold,

  Imperishable; there arriv'd, he yok'd

  Beneath his car the brazen-footed steeds,

  Of swiftest flight, with manes of flowing gold.

  All clad in gold, the golden lash he grasp'd

  Of curious work, and mounting on his car,

  Skimm'd o'er the waves; from all the depths below

  Gamboll'd around the monsters of the deep,

  Acknowledging their King; the joyous sea

  Parted her waves; swift flew the bounding steeds,

  Nor was the brazen axle wet with spray,

  When to the ships of Greece their Lord they bore.

  Down in the deep recesses of the sea

  A spacious cave there is, which lies midway

  'Twixt Tenedos and Imbros' rocky isle:

  Th' Earth-shaking Neptune there his coursers stay'd,

  Loos'd from the chariot, and before them plac'd

  Ambrosial provender; and round their feet

  Shackles of gold, which none might break nor loose,

  That there they might await their Lord's return;

  Then to the Grecian army took his way.

  Meantime, by Hector, son of Priam, led,

  Like fire, or whirlwind, press'd the Trojans on,

  With furious zeal, and shouts and clamour hoarse;

  In hopes to take the ships, and all the chiefs

  To slay beside them; but from Ocean's depths

  Uprose th' Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth,

  To Calchas' likeness and deep voice conform'd,

  And rous'd the fainting Greeks; th' Ajaces first,

  Themselves with ardour fill'd, he thus address'd:

  "'Tis yours, Ajaces, fill'd with courage high,

  Discarding chilly fear, to save the Greeks:

  Elsewhere I dread not much the Trojan force,

  Though they in crowds have scal'd the lofty wall;

  The well-greav'd Greeks their onset may defy.

  Yet greatly fear I lest we suffer loss,

  Where that fierce, fiery madman, Hector, leads.

  Who boasts himself the son of Jove most high.

  But may some God your hearts inspire, yourselves

  Firmly to stand, and cheer your comrades on;

  So from your swiftly-sailing ships ye yet

  May drive the foe, how bold soe'er he be,

  Though by Olympian Jove himself upheld."

  So spake th' Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth,

  And with his sceptre touching both the chiefs,

  Fill'd them with strength and courage, and their limbs,

  Their feet and hands, with active vigour strung;

  Then like a swift-wing'd falcon sprang to flight,

  Which down the sheer face of some lofty rock

  Swoops on the plain to seize his feather'd prey:

  So swiftly Neptune left the chiefs; him first

  Departing, knew Oileus' active son,

  And thus the son of Telamon address'd:

  "Ajax, since some one of th' Olympian Gods,

  In likeness of a seer, hath hither come

  To urge us to the war (no Calchas he,

  Our augur Heav'n-inspir'd; for well I mark'd

  His movements, as he went; and of a God

  'Tis easy to discern the outward signs),

  I feel fresh spirit kindled in my breast,

  And new-born vigour in my feet and hands."

  Whom answer'd thus the son of Telamon:

  "My hands too grasp with firmer hold the spear,

  My spirit like thine is stirr'd; I feel my feet

  Instinct with fiery life; nor should I fear

  With Hector, son of Priam, in his might

  Alon
e to meet, and grapple to the death."

  Such was their mutual converse, as they joy'd

  In the fierce transport by the God inspir'd.

  Neptune, meanwhile, the other Greeks arous'd,

  Who, to the ships withdrawn, their wasted strength

  Recruited; for their limbs were faint with toil,

  And grief was in their hearts, as they beheld

  The Trojan hosts that scal'd the lofty wall;

  They saw, and from their eyes the teardrops fell,

  Of safety desp'rate; but th' Earth-shaking God

  Amid their ranks appearing, soon restor'd

  Their firm array; to Teucer first he came,

  To Leitus, and valiant Peneleus,

  Thoas, Deipyrus, Meriones,

  And young Antilochus, brave warriors all,

  And to the chiefs his winged words address'd:

  "Shame on ye, Grecian youths! to you I look'd

  As to our ships' defenders; but if ye

  Shrink from the perilous battle, then indeed

  Our day is come, to be by Troy subdu'd.

  O Heav'n! a sad and wondrous sight is this,

  A sight I never deem'd my eyes should see,

  Our ships assail'd by Trojan troops; by those

  Who heretofore have been as tim'rous hinds

  Amid the forest depths, the helpless prey

  Of jackals, pards, and wolves; they here and there,

  Uncertain, heartless, unresisting, fly:

  Such were the Trojans once; nor dar'd abide,

  No, not an hour, the strength and arms of Greece;

  And these are they, who now beside our ships,

  Far from their city walls, maintain the fight,

  Embolden'd by our great commander's fault,

  And slackness of the people, who, with him

  Offended, scarce are brought to guard our ships.

  And, feebly fighting, are beside them slain.

  E'en though the mighty monarch, Atreus' son,

  Wide-ruling Agamemnon, be in truth

  Wholly to blame in this, that he hath wrong'd

  The son of Peleus, yet 'tis not for us

  Our courage to relax. Arouse ye then!

  A brave man's spirit its vigour soon regains.

  That ye, the best and bravest of the host,

  Should stand aloof thus idly, 'tis not well;

  If meaner men should from the battle shrink,

  I might not blame them; but that such as ye

  Should falter, indignation fills my soul.

  Dear friends, from this remissness must accrue

  Yet greater evils; but with gen'rous shame

  And keen remorse let each man's breast be fill'd;

  Fierce is the struggle; in his pride of strength

  Hector has forc'd the gates and massive bars,

  And raging, 'mid the ships maintains the war."

  Thus Neptune on the Greeks, reproving, call'd:

  Then round th' Ajaces twain were cluster'd thick

  The serried files, whose firm array nor Mars,

  Nor spirit-stirring Pallas might reprove:

  For there, the bravest all, in order due,

  Waited the Trojan charge by Hector led:

  Spear close by spear, and shield by shield o'erlaid,

  Buckler to buckler press'd, and helm to helm,

  And man to man; the horsehair plumes above,

  That nodded on the warriors' glitt'ring crests,

  Each other touch'd; so closely massed they stood.

  Backward, by many a stalwart hand, were drawn

  The spears, in act to hurl; their eyes and minds

  Turn'd to the front, and eager for the fray.

  On pour'd the Trojan masses; in the van

  Hector straight forward urg'd his furious course.

  As some huge boulder, from its rocky bed

  Detach'd, and by the wintry torrent's force

  Hurl'd down the cliff's steep face, when constant rains

  The massive rock's firm hold have undermin'd;

  With giant bounds it flies; the crashing wood

  Resounds beneath it; still it hurries on,

  Until, arriving at the level plain,

  Its headlong impulse check'd, it rolls no more;

  So Hector, threat'ning now through ships and tents,

  E'en to the sea, to force his murd'rous way,

  Anon, confronted by that phalanx firm,

  Halts close before it; while the sons of Greece,

  With thrust of sword and double-pointed spears,

  Stave off his onset; he a little space

  Withdrew, and loudly on the Trojans call'd:

  "Trojans, and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam'd

  In close encounter, stand ye firm! not long

  The Greeks, though densely mass'd, shall bar my way,

  But soon, methinks, before my spear shall quail,

  If from the chief of Gods my mission be,

  From Jove the Thund'rer, royal Juno's Lord."

  His words fresh courage rais'd in ev'ry breast;

  On loftiest deeds intent, Deiphobus,

  The son of Priam, from the foremost ranks,

  His shield's broad orb before him borne, advanc'd

  With airy step, protected by the shield:

  At him Meriones with glitt'ring spear

  Took aim, nor miss'd his mark; the shield's broad orb

  Of tough bull's-hide it struck; but pass'd not through,

  For near the head the sturdy shaft was snapp'd.

  Yet from before his breast Deiphobus

  Held at arm's length his shield; for much he fear'd

  The weapon of Meriones; but he

  Back to his comrades' shelt'ring ranks withdrew,

  Griev'd at his baffled hopes and broken spear.

  Then tow'rd the ships he bent his steps, to seek

  Another spear, which in his tent remain'd.

  The rest, 'mid wild uproar, maintain'd the fight.

  There Teucer first, the son of Telamon,

  A warrior slew, the son of Mentor, Lord

  Of num'rous horses, Imbrius, spearman skill'd.

  In former days, ere came the sons of Greece,

  He in Pedaeus dwelt, and had to wife

  Medesicaste, Priam's bastard child;

  But when the well-trimm'd ships of Greece appear'd,

  Return'd to Troy; and there, rever'd by all,

  With Priam dwelt, who lov'd him as a son.

  Him Teucer with his lance below the ear

  Stabb'd, and drew back the weapon; down he fell,

  As by the woodman's axe, on some high peak,

  Falls a proud ash, conspicuous from afar,

  Scatt'ring its tender foliage on the ground;

  He fell; and loud his burnish'd armour rang.

  Forth Teucer sprang to seize the spoil; at whom,

  Advancing, Hector aim'd his glitt'ring spear;

  He saw, and, stooping, shunn'd the brazen death

  A little space; but through the breast it struck

  Amphimachus, the son of Cteatus,

  The son of Actor, hastening to the fight:

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

  Then forward Hector sprang, in hopes to seize

  The brazen helm, that fitted well the brow

  Of brave Amphimachus; but Ajax met

  Th' advance of Hector with his glitt'ring spear;

  Himself he reach'd not, all in dazzling brass

  Encas'd; but pressing on his bossy shield

  Drove by main force beyond where lay the dead:

  Them both the Greeks withdrew; th' Athenian chiefs

  Stychius and brave Menestheus, bore away

  Amid the ranks of Greece Amphimachus;

  While, as two lions high above the ground

  Bear through the brushwood in their jaws a goat,

  Snatch'd from the sharp-fang'd dogs' protecting care:

  So, fill'd with warlik
e rage, th' Ajaces twain

  Lifted on high, and of its armour stripp'd

  The corpse of Imbrius; and Oileus' son,

  Griev'd at Amphimachus, his comrade's death,

  Cut from the tender neck, and like a ball

  Sent whirling through the crowd the sever'd head;

  And in the dust at Hector's feet it fell.

  Then, for his grandson slain, fierce anger fill'd

  The breast of Neptune; through the tents of Greece

  And ships he pass'd, the Greeks encouraging,

  And ills preparing for the sons of Troy.

  Him met Idomeneus, the warrior King,

  Leaving a comrade, from the battle field,

  Wounded behind the knee, but newly brought;

  Borne by his comrades, to the leech's care

  He left him, eager to rejoin the fray;

  Whom by his tent th' Earth-shaking God address'd,

  The voice assuming of Andraemon's son,

  Who o'er th' AEtolians, as a God rever'd,

  In Pleuron reign'd, and lofty Calydon:

  "Where now, Idomeneus, sage Cretan chief,

  Are all the vaunting threats, so freely pour'd

  Against the Trojans by the sons of Greece?"

  To whom the Cretan King, Idomeneus:

  "Thoas, on none, so far as I may judge,

  May blame be cast; we all our duties know;

  Nor see I one by heartless fear restrain'd,

  Nor hanging back, and flinching from the war:

  Yet by th' o'erruling will of Saturn's son

  It seems decreed that here the Greeks should fall,

  And far from Argos lie in nameless graves.

  But, Thoas, as thyself art ever staunch,

  Nor slow the laggards to reprove, thy work

  Remit not now; but rouse each sev'ral man."

  To whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied:

  "Idomeneus, may he from Troy return

  No more, but here remain to glut the dogs,

  If such there be, from this day's fight who shrinks.

  But haste thee, don thine arms; great need is now

  To hasten, if in aught we two may serve:

  E'en meaner men, united, courage gain;

  But we the bravest need not fear to meet."

  He said, and to the strife of men return'd.

  Within his well-constructed tent arriv'd,

  Straight donn'd Idomeneus his armour bright:

  Two spears he took; and, like the lightning's flash,

  Which, as a sign to men, the hand of Jove

  Hurls downwards from Olympus' glitt'ring heights;

  Whose dazzling radiance far around is thrown;

  Flash'd, as the warrior ran, his armour bright.

  Him met Meriones, his follower brave,

 

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