by Homer
Prepar'd to hurl, or hand to hand engage.
Him Adamas, the son of Asius, marked,
As o'er the crowd he glanc'd; and springing forth,
Struck with his spear the centre of the shield;
But dark-hair'd Neptune grudg'd the hero's life,
And stay'd the brazen point; half in the shield,
Like a fire-harden'd stake, remained infix'd,
The other half lay broken, on the ground.
Back to his comrades' shelt'ring ranks he sprang,
In hope of safety; but Meriones,
Quick-following, plung'd his weapon through his groin,
Where sharpest agony to wretched men
Attends on death; there planted he his spear:
Around the shaft he writh'd, and gasping groan'd,
Like to a mountain bull, which, bound with cords,
The herdsmen drag along, with struggles vain,
Resisting; so the wounded warrior groan'd:
But not for long: for fierce Meriones,
Approaching, from his body tore the spear,
And the dark shades of death his eyes o'erspread.
Then Helenus, a weighty Thracian sword
Wielding aloft, across the temples smote
Deipyrus, and all his helmet crash'd;
Which, as it roll'd beneath their feet, some Greek
Seiz'd 'mid the press; his eyes were clos'd in death.
The valiant Menelaus, Atreus' son,
With grief beheld; and royal Helenus
With threat'ning mien approaching, pois'd on high
His glitt'ring spear, while he the bowstring drew.
Then simultaneous flew from either side
The gleaming spear, and arrow from the string.
The shaft of Priam's son below the breast
The hollow cuirass struck, and bounded off;
As bound the dark-skinn'd beans, or clatt'ring peas,
From the broad fan upon the threshing-floor,
By the brisk breeze impell'd, and winnower's force;
From noble Menelaus' cuirass so
The stinging arrow bounding, glanc'd afar.
But valiant Menelaus, Atreus' son,
Transfix'd the hand that held the polish'd bow:
The brazen point pass'd through, and to the bow
The hand was pinn'd; back to his comrades' ranks
He sprang, in hope of safety, hanging down
The wounded limb, that trail'd the ashen spear.
Agenor from the wound the spear withdrew,
And with a twisted sling of woollen cloth,
By an attendant brought, bound up the hand.
To noble Menelaus stood oppos'd
Peisander, to the confines dark of death
Led by his evil fate, by thee to fall,
Great son of Atreus, in the deadly strife.
When near they drew, Atrides miss'd his aim,
With erring spear divergent; next his shield
Peisander struck, but drove not through the spear;
For the broad shield resisted, and the shaft
Was snapp'd in sunder: Menelaus saw
Rejoicing, and with hope of triumph flush'd;
Unsheathing then his silver-studded sword
Rush'd on Peisander; he beneath his shield
Drew forth a pond'rous brazen battle-axe,
With handle long, of polish'd olive-wood:
And both at once in deadly combat join'd.
Then, just below the plume, Peisander struck
The crested helmet's peak; but Atreus' son
Met him advancing, and across the brow
Smote him, above the nose; loud crash'd the bone,
And in the dust the gory eyeballs dropp'd
Before him; doubled with the pain, he fell:
The victor, planting on his chest his foot,
Stripp'd off his arms, and thus exulting cried:
"Thus shall ye all, insatiate of the fight,
Proud Trojans, from before our ships depart;
Nor lack your share of insult and of wrong,
Such as on me, vile hounds, ye cast erewhile,
Nor fear'd th' avenger of the slighted laws
Of hospitality, high thund'ring Jove,
Who soon your lofty city shall o'erthrow.
Kindly receiv'd, my virgin-wedded wife,
With store of goods, ye basely bore away;
And now ye rage, infuriate, to destroy
With fire our ocean-going ships, and slay
Our Grecian heroes; but the time shall come
When ye too fain would from the war escape.
O Father Jove, 'tis said that thou excell'st,
In wisdom, Gods and men; all human things
From thee proceed; and can it be, that thou
With favour seest these men of violence,
These Trojans, with presumptuous courage fill'd,
Whose rage for the battle knows nor stint nor bound?
Men are with all things sated; sleep and love;
Sweet sounds of music, and the joyous dance.
Of these may some more gladly take their fill;
But Trojans still for war, instiate, thirst."
Thus Menelaus; and the blood-stained arms
Stripp'd from the corpse, and to his comrades gave;
Then join'd again the foremost in the fray.
There to th' encounter forth Harpalion sprang,
Son of the King Pylaemenes, who came,
His father following, to the war of Troy,
But back return'd not to his native land.
He standing near, full in the centre struck
Atrides' shield, but drove not through the spear;
Back to his comrades' shelt'ring ranks he sprang
In hopes of safety, glancing all around,
His body to defend; but as he turn'd,
In his right flank a brazen-pointed shaft,
Shot by Meriones, was buried deep:
Beneath the bone it pass'd, and pierc'd him through.
At once he fell; and gasping out his life,
Amid his comrades, writhing on the ground
Like a crush'd worm he lay; and from the wound
The dark blood pouring, drench'd the thirsty soil.
The valiant troops of Paphlagonia clos'd
Around him; on his car they plac'd the slain.
And deeply sorrowing, to the city bore;
His father, weeping, walk'd beside the car,
Nor vengeance for his slaughter'd son obtain'd.
Paris with grief and anger saw him fall:
For he in former days his guest had been
In Paphlagonia; then, with anger fill'd,
A brass-tipp'd arrow from his bow he sent.
A certain man there was, Euchenor nam'd,
Who dwelt in Corinth; rich, of blameless life,
The son of Polyeidus, skilful seer:
His fate well knowing, he embark'd; for oft
The good old man had told him that his doom
Was, or at home by sharp disease to die,
Or with the Greeks by Trojan hands to fall.
Embarking, he escap'd alike the fine
By Greeks impos'd, and pangs of sharp disease.
Him Paris smote between the ear and jaw;
Swift fled his spirit, and darkness clos'd his eyes.
Thus rag'd, like blazing fire, the furious fight.
But nought as yet had Hector heard, nor knew
How sorely, leftward of the ships, were press'd
The Trojans by the Greeks; and now appear'd
Their triumph, sure; such succour Neptune gave,
Their courage rousing, and imparting strength.
But there he kept, where first the serried ranks
Of Greeks he broke, and storm'd the wall and gates;
There beach'd beside the hoary sea, the ships
Of Ajax and Protesilaus lay;
There had the wall
been lowest built; and there
Were gather'd in defence the chiefest all,
Horses and men: the stout Boeotians there,
Join'd to th' Ionians with their flowing robes,
Loerians, and Phthians, and Epeians proud,
Could scarce protect their ships; nor could repel
Th' impetuous fire of godlike Hector's charge.
There too the choicest troops of Athens fought;
Their chief, Menestheus, Peteus' son; with whom
Were Pheidas, Stichius, Bias in command;
Th' Epeians Meges, Phyleus' son, obey'd,
And Dracius and Amphion; Medon next,
With brave Podarces led the Phthian host:
Medon, the great Oileus' bastard son,
Brother of Ajax; he in Phylace,
Far from his native land, was driv'n to dwell,
Since one to Eriopis near akin,
His sire Oileus' wife, his hand had slain.
Podarces from Iphiclus claim'd his birth,
The son of Phylacus; these two in arms
The valiant Phthians leading to the fight,
Join'd the Boeotian troops to guard the ships.
But from the side of Ajax Telamon
Stirr'd not a whit Oileus' active son;
But as on fallow-land with one accord,
Two dark-red oxen drag the well-wrought plough,
Streaming with sweat that gathers round their horns;
They by the polish'd yoke together held,
The stiff soil cleaving, down the furrow strain;
So closely, side by side, those two advanc'd.
But comrades, many and brave, on Telamon
Attended, who, whene'er with toil and sweat
His limbs grew faint, upheld his weighty shield;
While in the fray, Oileus' noble son
No Locrians follow'd; theirs were not the hearts
To brook th' endurance of the standing fight;
Nor had they brass-bound helms, with horsehair plume,
Nor ample shields they bore, nor ashen spear;
But came to Troy, in bows and twisted slings
Of woollen cloth confiding; and from these
Their bolts quick-show'ring, broke the Trojan ranks.
While those, in front, in glitt'ring arms oppos'd
The men of Troy, by noble Hector led:
These, in the rear, unseen, their arrows shot.
Nor stood the Trojans; for amid their ranks
The galling arrows dire confusion spread.
Then had the Trojans from the ships and tents
Back to the breezy heights of Troy been driv'n
In flight disastrous; but Polydamas
Drew near to Hector, and address'd him thus:
"Hector, I know thee, how unapt thou art
To hearken to advice; because the Gods
Have giv'n thee to excel in warlike might,
Thou deemest thyself, in counsel too, supreme;
Yet every gift thou canst not so combine:
To one the Gods have granted warlike might,
To one the dance, to one the lyre and song;
While in another's breast all-seeing Jove
Hath plac'd the spirit of wisdom, and a mind
Discerning, for the common good of all:
By him are states preserv'd; and he himself
Best knows the value of the precious gift.
Then hear what seems to me the wisest course.
On ev'ry side the circling ring of war
Is blazing all around thee; and, thou seest,
Our valiant Trojans, since the wall they scal'd,
Or stand aloof, or scatter'd 'mid the ships
Outnumber'd, with superior forces strive.
Then thou, retiring, hither call the chiefs;
Here take we counsel fully, if to fall
Upon their well-mann'd ships, should Heaven vouchsafe
The needful strength, or, scatheless yet, withdraw;
For much I fear they soon will pay us back
Their debt of yesterday; since in their ranks
One yet remains insatiate of the fight,
And he, methinks, not long will stand aloof."
Thus he: the prudent counsel Hector pleas'd;
Down from his chariot with his arms he leap'd,
And to Polydamas his speech address'd:
"Polydamas, detain thou here the chiefs;
Thither will I, and meet the front of war,
And, giv'n my orders, quickly here return."
He said; and, like a snow-clad mountain high,
Uprose; and loudly shouting, in hot haste
Flew through the Trojan and Confed'rate host.
At sound of Hector's voice, round Panthous' son,
Polydamas, were gather'd all the chiefs.
But 'mid the foremost combatants he sought
If haply he might find Deiphobus,
And royal Helenus, and Adamas,
And gallant Asius, son of Hyrtacus.
These found he not unscath'd by wounds or death;
For some beside the ships of Greece had paid,
By Grecian hands, the forfeit of their lives,
While others wounded lay within the wall.
But, to the leftward of the bloody fray,
The godlike Paris, fair-hair'd Helen's Lord,
Cheering his comrades to the fight, he found,
And with reproachful words address'd him thus:
"Thou wretched Paris, fair in outward form,
Thou slave of woman, manhood's counterfeit,
Where is Deiphobus, and where the might
Of royal Helenus? where Adamas,
The son of Asius? where too Asius, son
Of Hyrtacus? and where Othryoneus?
Now from its summit totters to the fall
Our lofty Ilium; now thy doom is sure."
To whom the godlike Paris thus replied:
"Hector, since blameless I incur thy blame,
Ne'er have I less withdrawn me from the fight,
And me not wholly vile my mother bore;
For since thou gav'st command to attack the ships,
We here against the Greeks unflinching war
Have wag'd; our comrades, whom thou seek'st, are slain:
Only Deiphobus hath left the field,
And Helenus; both wounded by the spear,
Both through the hand; but Jove their life hath spar'd.
But thou, where'er thy courage bids, lead on:
We shall be prompt to follow; to our pow'r
Thou shalt in us no lack of valour find;
Beyond his pow'r the bravest cannot fight."
Wrought on his brother's mind the hero's words:
Together both they bent their steps, where rag'd
The fiercest conflict; there Cebriones,
Phalces, Orthaeus, brave Polydamas,
Palmys, and godlike Polyphetes' might,
And Morys, and Ascanius fought; these two
Hippotion's sons; from rich Ascania's plains
They, as reliefs, but yestermorn had come;
Impell'd by Jove, they sought the battle field.
Onward they dash'd, impetuous as the rush
Of the fierce whirlwind, which with lightning charg'd,
From Father Jove sweeps downward o'er the plain:
As with loud roar it mingles with the sea,
The many-dashing ocean's billows boil,
Upheaving, foam-white-crested, wave on wave;
So, rank on rank, the Trojans, closely mass'd,
In arms all glitt'ring, with their chiefs advanc'd;
Hector, the son of Priam, led them on,
In combat terrible as blood-stain'd Mars:
Before his breast his shield's broad orb he bore,
Of hides close join'd, with brazen plates o'erlaid;
The gleaming helmet nodded o'er his brow.
He, with proud step, protected by his shield,
On ev'ry side the hostile ranks survey'd,
If signs of yielding he might trace; but they
Unshaken stood; and with like haughty mien,
Ajax at Hector thus defiance hurl'd:
"Draw nearer, mighty chief; why seek to scare
Our valiant Greeks? we boast ourselves of war
Not wholly unskill'd, though now the hand of Jove
Lies heavy on us with the scourge of Heav'n.
Thou hop'st, forsooth, our vessels to destroy;
But stalwart arms for their defence we boast.
Long ere that day shall your proud city fall,
Tak'n and destroy'd by our victorious hands.
Not far the hour, when thou thyself in flight
To Jove and all the Gods shalt make thy pray'r,
That swifter than the falcon's wing thy steeds
May bear thee o'er the dusty plain to Troy."
Thus as he spoke, upon his right appear'd
An eagle, soaring high; the crowd of Greeks
The fav'ring omen saw, and shouted loud:
Then noble Hector thus: "What words are these,
Ajax, thou babbling braggart, vain of speech!
For would to Heav'n I were as well assur'd
I were the son of aegis-bearing Jove,
Born of imperial Juno, and myself
In equal honour with Apollo held
Or blue-ey'd Pallas, as I am assur'd
This day is fraught with ill to all the Greeks:
Thou 'mid the rest shalt perish, if thou dare
My spear encounter, which thy dainty skin
Shall rend; and slain beside the ships, thy flesh
Shall glut the dogs and carrion birds of Troy."
He said, and led them on; with eager cheers
They followed; shouted loud the hindmost throng.
On th' other side the Greeks return'd the shout:
Of all the Trojans' bravest they, unmov'd,
The onset bore; their mingled clamours rose
To Heav'n, and reach'd the glorious light of Jove.
ARGUMENT.
JUNO DECEIVES JUPITER BY THE GIRDLE OF VENUS.
Nestor, sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the increasing clamour of the war, and hastens to Agamemnon; on his way he meets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the extremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by night, which Ulysses withstands; to which Diomed adds his advice, that, wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with their presence; which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to overreach him; she sets off her charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god of Sleep, and with some difficulty persuades him to seal the eyes of Jupiter; this done, she goes to Mount Ida, where the god at first sight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid asleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the Greeks; Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax, and carried off from the battle; several actions succeed; till the Trojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way; the lesser Ajax signalizes himself in a particular manner.