by Homer
Good friend, I heretofore have held thee wise
O'er all who dwell in Lycia's fertile soil;
But now I change, and hold thy judgment cheap,
Who chargest me with flying from the might
Of giant Ajax; never have I shrunk
From the stern fight, and clatter of the cars;
But all o'erruling is the mind of Jove,
Who strikes with panic, and of vict'ry robs
The bravest; and anon excites to war.
Stand by me now, and see if through the day
I prove myself the coward that thou say'st,
Or suffer that a Greek, how brave soe'er,
Shall rescue from my hands Patroclus' corpse."
He said, and loudly on the Trojans call'd:
"Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam'd
In close encounter, quit ye now like men;
Maintain awhile the stubborn fight, while I
The splendid armour of Achilles don,
My glorious prize from slain Patroclus torn."
So saying, Hector of the glancing helm,
Withdrawing from the field, with rapid steps
His comrades follow'd, and ere long o'ertook,
Who tow'rd the town Achilles' armour bore;
Then standing from the bloody fight aloof
The armour he exchang'd; his own he bade
The warlike Trojans to the city bear;
While he, of Peleus' son, Achilles, donn'd
The heav'nly armour, which th' immortal Gods
Gave to his sire; he to his son convey'd;
Yet in that armour grew not old that son.
Him when apart the Cloud-compeller saw
Girt with the arms of Peleus' godlike son,
He shook his head, and inly thus he mus'd:
"Ah hapless! little deem'st thou of thy fate,
Though now so nigh! Thou of the prime of men,
The dread of all, hast donn'd th' immortal arms,
Whose comrade, brave and good, thy hand hath slain;
And sham'd him, stripping from his head and breast
Helmet and cuirass; yet thy latest hours
Will I with glory crown; since ne'er from thee,
Eeturn'd from battle, shall Andromache
Receive the spoils of Peleus' godlike son."
He said, and nodded with his shadowy brows;
Then with the armour, fitted to his form
By Jove himself, was Hector girt by Mars
The fierce and terrible; with vig'rous strength
His limbs were strung, as 'mid his brave allies
He sprang, loud-shouting; glitt'ring in his arms,
To all he seem'd Achilles' godlike self.
To each and all in cheering tones he spoke,
Mesthles and Glaucus and Thersilochus,
Asteropaeus and Hippothous,
Medon, Deisenor, Phoreys, Chromius,
And Ennomus the seer: to all of these
His winged words he cheeringly address'd:
"Hear me, ye countless tribes, that dwelling round
Assist our cause! You from your sev'ral homes
Not for display of numbers have I call'd,
But that with willing hearts ye should defend
Our wives and infants from the warlike Greeks:
For this I drain my people's stores, for food
And gifts for you, exalting your estate;
Then, who will boldly onward, he may fall,
Or safe escape, such is the chance of war;
But who within our valiant Trojans' ranks
Shall but the body of Patroclus bring,
Despite the might of Ajax; half the spoils
To him I give, the other half myself
Retaining; and his praise shall equal mine."
He said; and onward, with uplifted spears,
They march'd upon the Greeks; high rose their hopes
From Ajax Telamon to snatch the dead;
Vain hopes, which cost them many a life! Then thus
To valiant Menelaus Ajax spoke;
"O Heav'n-born Menelaus, noble friend,
For safe return I dare no longer hope:
Not for Patroclus' corpse so much I fear,
Which soon will glut the dogs and birds of Troy,
As for my life and thine I tremble now:
For, like a war-cloud, Hector's might I see
O'ershadowing all around; now is our doom
Apparent; but do thou for succour call
On all the chiefs, if haply they may hear."
Thus Ajax spoke: obedient to his word,
On all the chiefs Atrides call'd aloud:
"O friends, the chiefs and councillors of Greece,
All ye that banquet at the gen'ral cost
With Atreus' sons, and o'er your sev'ral states
Dominion hold; whose honour is of Jove;
'Twere hard to call by name each single man,
So fierce the combat rages; but let each
And all their aid afford, and deem, it shame
Patroclus' corpse should glut the dogs of Troy."
He said: first heard Oileus' active son,
And hast'ning through the fray, beside him stood.
Next him Idomeneus, with whom there came,
Valiant as Mars, his friend Meriones.
But who can know or tell the names of all,
Who, following, swell'd the battle of the Greeks?
Onward the Trojans press'd, by Hector led:
With such a sound, as when the ocean wave
Meets on the beach th' outpouring of a stream,
Swoll'n by the rains of Heav'n: the lofty cliffs
Resound, and bellows the big sea without;
With such a sound advanc'd the Trojan host:
While round Patroclus, with one heart and mind,
The Greeks a fence of brass-clad bucklers rais'd.
O'er their bright helms the son of Saturn shed
A veil of darkness; for Menoetius' son,
Achilles' faithful friend, while yet he liv'd
Jove hated not, nor would that now his corpse
Should to the dogs of Troy remain a prey,
But to the rescue all his comrades stirr'd.
At first the Trojans drove the keen-ey'd Greeks;
Leaving the corpse, they fled; nor with their spears
The valiant Trojans reach'd a single Greek;
But on the dead they seiz'd; yet not for long
Endur'd their flight; them Ajax rallied soon,
In form pre-eminent, and deeds of arms,
O'er all the Greeks, save Peleus' matchless son.
Onward he sprang, as springs a mountain boar,
Which, turning in the forest glade to bay,
Scatters with ease both dogs and stalwart youths;
So Ajax scatter'd soon the Trojan ranks,
That round Patroclus closing, hop'd to bear,
With glory to themselves, his corpse to Troy.
Hippothous, Pelasgian Lethus' son,
Was dragging by the feet the noble dead,
A leathern belt around his ancles bound,
Seeking the favour of the men of Troy;
But on himself he brought destruction down,
Which none might turn aside; for from the crowd
Outsprang the son of Telamon, and struck,
In close encounter, on the brass-cheek'd helm;
The plumed helm was shiver'd by the blow,
Dealt by a weighty spear and stalwart hand;
Gush'd from the wound the mingled blood and brain,
His vital spirit quench'd; and on the ground
Fell from his pow'rless grasp Patroclus' foot;
While he himself lay stretch'd beside the dead,
Far from his own Larissa's teeming soil:
Not destin'd he his parents to repay
Their early care; for short his term of life,
By godlike Ajax' mighty spear subdu'd.
He saw, and narrowly the brazen death
Escap'd; but Schedius, son of Iphitus,
(The bravest of the Phocian chiefs, who dwelt
In far-fam'd Panopeus, the mighty Lord
Of num'rous hosts,) below the collar-bone
It struck, and passing through, the brazen point
Came forth again beneath his shoulder-blade:
Thund'ring he fell, and loud his armour rang.
As Phorcys, son of Phaenops, kept his watch
O'er slain Hippothous, him Ajax smote
Below the waist; the weighty spear broke through
The hollow breastplate, and th' intestines tore;
Prone in the dust he fell, and clutch'd the ground.
At this the Trojan chiefs and Hector's self
'Gan to give way; the Greeks, with joyful shouts,
Seiz'd both the dead, and stripp'd their armour off.
To Ilium now, before the warlike Greeks,
O'ercome by panic, had the Trojans fled;
And now had Greeks, despite the will of Jove,
By their own strength and courage, won the day,
Had not Apollo's self AEneas rous'd,
In likeness of a herald, Periphas,
The son of Epytus, now aged grown
In service of AEneas' aged sire,
A man of kindliest soul: his form assum'd
Apollo, and AEneas thus address'd:
"AEneas, how, against the will of Heav'n,
Could ye defend your city, as others now
In their own strength and courage confident,
Their numbers, and their troops' undaunted hearts,
I see their cause maintaining; if when Jove
Rather to us than them the vict'ry wills,
With fear unspeakable ye shun the fight?"
He said: the presence of the Archer-God
AEneas knew, and loud to Hector call'd:
"Hector, and all ye other chiefs of Troy,
And brave Allies, foul shame it were that we,
O'ercome by panic, should to Ilium now
In flight be driv'n before the warlike Greeks;
And by my side, but now, some God there stood,
And told how Jove, the sov'reign arbiter
Of battle, on our side bestow'd his aid;
On then! nor undisturbed allow the Greeks
To bear Patroclus' body to their ships."
He said, and far before the ranks advanc'd;
They rallying turn'd, and fac'd again the Greeks.
Then first AEneas' spear the comrade brave
Of Lycomedes struck, Laocritus,
Son of Arisbas; Lycomedes saw
With pitying eyes his gallant comrade's fall;
And standing near, his glitt'ring spear he threw,
And through the midriff Apisaon struck,
His people's guardian chief, the valiant son
Of Hippasus, and slack'd his limbs in death.
He from Paeonia's fertile fields had come,
O'er all his comrades eminent in fight,
All save Asteropaeus, who with eyes
Of pity saw his gallant comrade's fall,
And forward sprang to battle with the Greeks;
Yet could not force his way; for all around
Patroclus rose a fence of serried shields,
And spears projecting: such the orders giv'n
By Ajax, and with earnest care enforc'd;
That from around the dead should none retire,
Nor any to the front advance alone
Before his fellows; but their steady guard
Maintain, and hand to hand the battle wage.
So order'd Ajax; then with crimson blood
The earth was wet; and hand to hand they fell,
Trojans alike, and brave Allies, and Greeks;
For neither these a bloodless fight sustain'd,
Though fewer far their losses; for they stood
Of mutual succour mindful, and support.
Thus, furious as the rage of fire, they fought;
Nor might ye deem the glorious sun himself
Nor moon was safe; for darkest clouds of night
O'erspread the warriors, who the battle wag'd
Around the body of Menoetius' son:
Elsewhere the Trojans and the well-greav'd Greeks
Fought, undisturb'd, in the clear light of day;
The sun's bright beams were shed abroad; no cloud
Lay on the face of earth or mountain tops;
They but by fits, at distant intervals,
And far apart, each seeking to avoid
The hostile missiles, fought; but in the midst
The bravest all, in darkness and in strife
Sore press'd, toil'd on beneath their armour's weight.
As yet no tidings of Patroclus' fall
Had reach'd two valiant chiefs, Antilochus
And Thrasymedes; but they deem'd him still
Alive, and fighting in the foremost ranks.
They, witnessing their comrades' flight and death,
Fought on apart, by Nestor so enjoin'd,
When from the ships he bade them join the fray.
Great was meanwhile their labour, who sustain'd,
Throughout the livelong day, that weary fight;
Reek'd with continuous toil and sweat, the knees,
And legs and feet, the arms, and eyes, of all
Who round Achilles' faithful comrade fought.
As when a chief his people bids to stretch
A huge bull's hide, all drench'd and soak'd with grease;
They in a circle rang'd, this way and that,
Pull the tough hide, till ent'ring in, the grease
Is all absorb'd; and dragg'd by num'rous hands
The supple skin to th' utmost length is stretch'd;
So these in narrow space this way and that
The body dragg'd; and high the hopes of each
To bear it off in triumph; to their ships
The Greeks, to Troy the Trojans; fiercely rag'd
The struggle; spirit-stirring Mars himself,
Or Pallas to her utmost fury rous'd,
Had not that struggle with contempt beheld:
Such grievous labour o'er Patroclus' corpse
Had Jove to horses and to men decreed.
But of Patroclus' fall no tidings yet
Had reach'd Achilles; for the war was wag'd
Far from the ships, beneath the walls of Troy;
Nor look'd he of his death to hear, but deem'd
That when the Trojans to their gates were driv'n,
He would return in safety; for no hope
Had he of taking by assault the town,
With, or without, his aid; for oft apart
His Goddess-mother had his doom, foretold,
Revealing to her son the mind of Jove;
Yet ne'er had warn'd him of such grief as this,
Which now befell, his dearest comrade's loss.
Still round the dead they held their pointed spears,
Fought hand to hand, and mutual slaughter dealt;
And thus perchance some brass-clad Greek would say:
"O friends, 'twere shameful should we to the ships
Ingloriously return; ere that should be,
Let earth engulph us all; so better far
Than let these Trojans to their city bear
Our dead, and boast them of their triumph gain'd."
On th' other hand some valiant Trojan thus
Would shout: "O friends, tho' fate decreed that here
We all should die, yet let not one give way."
Thus, cheering each his comrades, would they speak,
And thus they fought; the iron clangour pierc'd
The empty air, and brazen vault of Heav'n.
But, from the fight withdrawn, Achilles' steeds
Wept, as they heard how in the dust wa
s laid
Their charioteer, by Hector's murd'rous hand.
Automedon, Diores' valiant son,
Essay'd in vain to rouse them with the lash,
In vain with honey'd words, in vain with threats;
Nor to the ships would they return again
By the broad Hellespont, nor join the fray;
But as a column stands, which marks the tomb
Of man or woman, so immovable
Beneath the splendid car they stood, their heads
Down-drooping to the ground, while scalding tears
Dropp'd earthward from their eyelids, as they mourn'd
Their charioteer; and o'er the yoke-band shed
Down stream'd their ample manes, with dust defil'd.
The son of Saturn pitying saw their grief,
And sorrowing shook his head, as thus he mus'd:
"Ah, hapless horses! wherefore gave we you
To royal Peleus, to a mortal man,
You that from age and death are both exempt!
Was it that you the miseries might share
Of wretched mortals? for of all that breathe,
And walk upon the earth, or creep, is nought
More wretched than th' unhappy race of man.
Yet shall not ye, nor shall your well-wrought car,
By Hector, son of Priam, be controll'd;
I will not suffer it; enough for him
To hold, with vaunting boast, Achilles' arms;
But to your limbs and spirits will I impart
Such strength, that from the battle to the ships
Ye shall in safety bear Automedon;
For yet I will the Trojans shall prevail,
And slay, until they reach the well-mann'd ships,
Till sets the sun, and darkness shrouds the earth."
He said, and in their breasts fresh spirit infus'd;
They, shaking from their manes the dust, the car
Amid the Greeks and Trojans lightly bore.
Then, as a vulture 'mid a flock of geese,
Amid the battle rush'd Automedon,
His horses' course directing, and their speed
Exciting, though he mourn'd his comrade slain.
Swiftly he fled from out the Trojan host;
Swiftly again assail'd them in pursuit;
Yet, speedy to pursue, he could not slay;
Nor, in the car alone, had pow'r at once
To guide the flying steeds, and hurl the spear.
At length a comrade brave, Alcimedon,
Laerces' son, beheld; behind the car
He stood, and thus Automedon address'd:
"Automedon, what God has fill'd thy mind
With counsels vain, and thee of sense bereft?
That with the Trojans, in the foremost ranks,
Thou fain wouldst fight alone, thy comrade slain,
While Hector proudly on his breast displays
The glorious arms of great AEacides."