by Homer
Soliciting, or otherwise, my hand
Hath fair Briseis touch'd; but in my tent
Still pure and undefil'd hath she remain'd:
And if in this I be forsworn, may Heav'n
With all the plagues afflict me, due to those
Who sin by perjur'd oaths against the Gods."
Thus as he spoke, across the victim's throat
He drew the pitiless blade; Talthybius then
To hoary Ocean's depths the carcase threw,
Food for the fishes; then Achilles rose,
And thus before th' assembled Greeks he spoke:
"O Father Jove, how dost thou lead astray
Our human judgments! ne'er had Atreus' son
My bosom fill'd with wrath, nor from my arms,
To his own loss, against my will had torn
The girl I lov'd, but that the will of Jove
To death predestin'd many a valiant Greek.
Now to the meal; anon renew the war."
This said, th' assembly he dismiss'd in haste,
The crowd dispersing to their sev'ral ships;
Upon the gifts the warlike Myrmidons
Bestow'd their care, and bore them to the ships;
Of Peleus' godlike son; within the tent
They laid them down, and there the women plac'd,
While to the drove the followers led the steeds.
Briseis, fair as golden Venus, saw
Patroclus lying, pierc'd with mortal wounds,
Within the tent; and with a bitter cry,
She flung her down upon the corpse, and tore
Her breast, her delicate neck, and beauteous cheeks;
And, weeping, thus the lovely woman wail'd:
"Patroclus, dearly lov'd of this sad heart!
When last I left this tent, I left thee full
Of healthy life; returning now, I find
Only thy lifeless corpse, thou Prince of men!
So sorrow still, on sorrow heap'd, I bear.
The husband of my youth, to whom my sire
And honour'd mother gave me, I beheld
Slain with the sword before the city walls:
Three brothers, whom with me one mother bore,
My dearly lov'd ones, all were doom'd to death:
Nor wouldst thou, when Achilles swift of foot
My husband slew, and royal Mynes' town
In ruin laid, allow my tears to flow;
But thou wouldst make me (such was still thy speech)
The wedded wife of Peleus' godlike son:
Thou wouldst to Phthia bear me in thy ship,
And there, thyself, amid the Myrmidons,
Wouldst give my marriage feast; then, unconsol'd,
I weep thy death, my ever-gentle friend!"
Weeping, she spoke; the women join'd her wail:
Patroclus' death the pretext for their tears,
But each in secret wept her private griefs.
Around Achilles throng'd the elder men,
Urging to eat; but he, with groans, refus'd:
"I pray you, would you show your love, dear friends,
Ask me not now with food or drink to appease
Hunger or thirst; a load of bitter grief
Weighs heavy on my soul; till set of sun
Fasting will I remain, and still endure."
The other monarchs at his word withdrew:
The two Atridae, and Ulysses sage,
And Nestor and Idomeneus remain'd,
And aged Phoenix, to divert his grief;
But comfort none, save in the bloody jaws
Of battle would he take; by mem'ry stirr'd,
He heav'd a deep-drawn sigh, as thus he spoke:
"How oft hast thou, ill-fated, dearest friend,
Here in this tent with eager zeal prepar'd
The tempting meal, whene'er the sons of Greece
In haste would arm them for the bloody fray!
Now liest thou there, while I, for love of thee,
From food and drink, before me plac'd, refrain:
For ne'er shall I again such sorrow know,
Not though I heard of aged Peleus' death,
Who now in Phthia mourns, with tender tears,
His absent son; he on a foreign shore
Is warring in that hateful Helen's cause:
No, nor of his, who now in Scyros' isle
Is growing up, if yet indeed he live,
Young Neoptolemus, my godlike son.
My hope had been indeed, that here in Troy,
Far from the plains of Argos, I alone
Was doom'd to die; and that to Phthia thou,
Return'd in safety, mightst my son convey
From Scyros home, and show him all my wealth,
My spoils, my slaves, my lofty, spacious house.
For Peleus or to death, methinks, e'en now
Hath yielded, or not far from death remov'd,
Lives on in sorrow, bow'd by gloomy age,
Expecting day by day the messenger
Who bears the mournful tidings of my death."
Weeping, Achilles spoke; and with him wept
The Elders; each to fond remembrance mov'd
Of all that in his home himself had left.
The son of Saturn, pitying, saw their grief,
And Pallas thus with winged words address'd:
"My child, dost thou a hero's cause forsake,
Or does Achilles claim no more thy care,
Who sits in sorrow by the high-prow'd ships,
Mourning his comrade slain? the others all
Partake the meal, while he from food abstains:
Then haste thee, and, with hunger lest he faint,
Drop nectar and ambrosia on his breast."
His words fresh impulse gave to Pallas' zeal:
Down, like the long-wing'd falcon, shrill of voice,
Thro' the clear sky she swoop'd: and while the Greeks
Arm'd for the fight, Achilles she approach'd,
And nectar and ambrosia on his breast
Distill'd, lest hunger should his strength subdue;
Back to her mighty Father's ample house
Returning, as from out the ships they pour'd.
Thick as the snow-flakes that from Heav'n descend,
Before the sky-born Boreas' chilling blast;
So thick, outpouring from the ships, the stream
Of helmets polish'd bright, and bossy shields,
And breastplates firmly brac'd, and ashen spears:
Their brightness flash'd to Heav'n; and laugh'd the Earth
Beneath the brazen glare; loud rang the tramp
Of armed men: Achilles in the midst,
The godlike chief, in dazzling arms array'd.
His teeth were gnashing audibly; his eye
Blaz'd with, the light of fire; but in his heart
Was grief unbearable; with furious wrath
He burn'd against the Trojans, as he donn'd
The heav'nly gifts, the work of Vulcan's hand.
First on his legs the well-wrought greaves he fix'd,
Fasten'd with silver clasps; his breastplate next
Around his chest; and o'er his shoulders flung
His silver-studded sword, with blade of brass;
Then took his vast and weighty shield, whence gleam'd
A light refulgent as the full-orb'd moon;
Or as to seamen o'er the wave is borne
The watchfire's light, which, high among the hills,
Some shepherd kindles in his lonely fold:
As they, reluctant, by the stormy winds,
Far from their friends are o'er the waters driv'n;
So from Achilles' shield, bright, richly wrought,
The light was thrown. The weighty helm he rais'd,
And plac'd it on his head; the plumed helm
Shone like a star; and wav'd the hairs of gold.
Thick-set by Vulcan in the gleaming crest.
Then al
l the arms Achilles prov'd, to know
If well they fitted to his graceful limbs:
Like wings, they seem'd to lift him from the ground.
Last, from its case he drew his father's spear,
Long, pond'rous, tough; not one of all the Greeks,
None, save Achilles' self, could poise that spear;
The far-fam'd Pelian ash, which to his sire,
On Pelion's summit fell'd, to be the bane
Of mighty chiefs, the Centaur Chiron gave.
With care Automedon and Alcimus
The horses yok'd, with collars fair attach'd:
Plac'd in their mouths the bits, and pass'd the reins
Back to the well-built car: Automedon
Sprang on the car, with shining lash in hand:
Behind, Achilles came, array'd for war,
In arms all glitt'ring as the gorgeous sun,
And loudly to his father's steeds he call'd:
"Xanthus and Balius, noble progeny
Of swift Podarge, now in other sort
Back to the Grecian ranks in safety bear,
When he shall quit the field, your charioteer;
Nor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, slain."
To whom in answer from beneath the yoke
Xanthus, the noble horse, with glancing feet:
Bowing his head the while, till all his mane
Down from th' yokeband streaming, reach'd the ground;
By Juno, white-arm'd Queen, with speech endued:
"Yes, great Achilles, we this day again
Will bear thee safely; but thy day of doom
Is nigh at hand; nor we shall cause thy death,
But Heav'n's high will, and Fate's imperious pow'r.
By no default of ours, nor lack of speed,
The Trojans stripp'd Patroclus of his arms:
The mighty God, fair-hair'd Latona's son,
Achiev'd his death, and Hector's vict'ry gain'd.
Our speed of foot may vie with Zephyr's breeze,
Deem'd swiftest of the winds; but thou art doom'd
To die, by force combin'd of God and man."
He said; his farther speech the Furies stay'd.
To whom in wrath Achilles swift of foot;
"Xanthus, why thus predict my coming fate?
It ill beseems thee! well I know myself
That I am fated here in Troy to die,
Far from my home and parents; yet withal
I cease not, till these Trojans from the field
Before me fly." He said, and to the front,
His war-cry shouting, urg'd his fiery steeds.
ARGUMENT.
THE BATTLE OF THE GODS, AND THE ACTS OF ACHILLES.
Jupiter, upon Achilles' return to the battle, calls a council of the gods and permits them to assist either party. The terrors of the combat described when the deities are engaged. Apollo encourages AEneas to meet Achilles. After a long conversation, these two heroes encounter; but AEneas is preserved by the assistance of Neptune. Achilles falls upon the rest of the Trojans, and is upon the point of killing Hector, but Apollo conveys him away in a cloud. Achilles pursues the Trojans with a great slaughter.
The same day continues. The scene is in the field before Troy.
BOOK XX.
Round thee, Achilles, eager for the fray,
Stood thus accoutred, by their beaked ships,
The sons of Greece; the Trojan host, oppos'd,
Stood on the sloping margin of the plain.
Then Jove to Themis gave command to call
The Gods to council from the lofty height
Of many-ridg'd Olympus; to the house
Of Jove she summon'd them from ev'ry side.
Thence of the Rivers, save Oceanus,
Not one was absent; nor of Nymphs, who haunt
Clear fount, or shady grove, or grassy mead.
They, at the Cloud-compeller's house arriv'd,
Within the polish'd corridor reclin'd,
Which Vulcan's cunning hand for Jove had built.
There were they gather'd in th' abode of Jove:
Nor did th' Earth-shaking Neptune slight the call,
But came from ocean's depths, and in the midst
He sat, and thus the will of Jove enquir'd:
"Why, Lord of lightning, hast thou summon'd here
The Gods to council? dost thou aught devise
Touching the Greeks and Trojans? who e'en now
Kindle anew, it seems, the blaze of war."
To whom the Cloud-compeller, answ'ring, thus:
"The purpose, Neptune, well thou know'st thyself
For which I call'd ye; true, they needs must die,
But still they claim my care; yet here will I
Upon Olympus' lofty ridge remain,
And view, serene, the combat; you, the rest,
Go, as you list, to Trojans or to Greeks,
And at your pleasure either party aid.
For if we leave Achilles thus alone
To fight against the Trojans, not an hour
Will they before the son of Peleus stand.
They dreaded him before; but now, I fear,
Since rous'd to fury by his comrade's death,
He e'en in fate's despite may storm the wall."
Thus Saturn's son, and quenchless battle rous'd:
The Gods, divided, hasten'd to the war:
Juno and Pallas to the ships of Greece,
With them th' Earth-shaker, and the helpful God,
Hermes, for cunning subtleties unmatch'd;
And Vulcan too, exulting in his strength,
Yet halting, and on feeble limbs sustain'd.
Mars of the glancing helm took part with Troy,
And golden Phoebus with his locks unshorn,
Latona too, and Dian, Archer-Queen,
Xanthus, and Venus, laughter-loving dame.
While from the fight of men the Gods abstain'd,
High rose the Grecian vaunts, as, long withdrawn,
Achilles on the field again appear'd:
And ev'ry Trojan's limbs with terror quak'd,
Trembling, as Peleus' godlike son they saw,
In arms all-glitt'ring, fierce as blood-stain'd Mars.
But when th' Immortals mingled in the throng,
Then furious wax'd the spirit-stirring strife;
Then Pallas rais'd her war-cry, standing now
Beside the deep-dug trench, without the wall,
Now shouting loud along the sounding beach.
On th' other side, as with the tempest's roar,
Mars to the Trojans shouted loud; one while
From Ilium's topmost height; anon again
From the fair hill, o'erhanging Simois' stream.
Thus, either side exciting to the fray,
Th' immortal Gods unchain'd the angry war.
Thunder'd on high the Sire of Gods and men
With awful din; while Neptune shook beneath
The boundless earth, and lofty mountain tops.
The spring-abounding Ida quak'd and rock'd
From her firm basis to her loftiest peak,
And Troy's proud city, and the ships of Greece.
Pluto, th' infernal monarch, heard alarm'd,
And, springing from his throne, cried out in fear,
Lest Neptune, breaking through the solid earth,
To mortals and Immortals should lay bare
His dark and drear abode, of Gods abhorr'd.
Such was the shock when Gods in battle met;
For there to royal Neptune stood oppos'd
Phoebus Apollo with his arrows keen;
The blue-ey'd Pallas to the God of War;
To Juno, Dian, heav'nly Archeress,
Sister of Phoebus, golden-shafted Queen.
Stout Hermes, helpful God, Latona fac'd;
While Vulcan met the mighty rolling stream,
Xanthus by Gods, by men Scamander call'd.
Thus Gods encounte
r'd Gods: Achilles' soul
Meantime was burning 'mid the throng to meet
Hector, the son of Priam; with whose blood
He long'd to glut th' insatiate Lord of War.
Apollo then, the spirit-stirring God,
AEneas mov'd Achilles to confront,
And fill'd with courage high; and thus, the voice
Assuming of Lycaon, Priam's son,
Apollo, son of Jove, the chief address'd:
"AEneas, prince and councillor of Troy,
Where are the vaunts, which o'er the wine-cup late
Thou mad'st amid th' assembled chiefs of Troy,
That hand to hand thou wouldst Achilles meet?"
To whom AEneas thus in answer spoke:
"Why, son of Priam, urge me to contend,
Against my will, with Peleus' mighty son?
Not for the first time should I now engage
Achilles swift of foot: I met him once,
And fled before his spear, on Ida's hill,
When on our herds he fell; Lyrnessus then
He raz'd, and Pedasus; me Jove preserv'd,
With strength, endowing, and with speed of foot.
Else had I fall'n beneath Achilles' hand,
By Pallas aided; who before him moves,
Light of his life, and guides his brazen spear
Trojans and Leleges alike to slay.
'Tis not in mortal man with him to fight,
Whom still some God attends, and guards from harm;
And, e'en unaided, to the mark his spear
Unerring flies, uncheck'd until it pierce
A warrior's breast; yet if the Gods the scale
Impartial held, all brass-clad as he is,
O'er me no easy triumph should he gain."
To whom the King Apollo, son of Jove:
"Brave chief, do thou too to th' immortal Gods
Address thy pray'r; men say that thou art sprung
From Venus, child of Jove; his mother owns
A humbler origin; one born to Jove,
The other to the aged Ocean God.
On then with dauntless spear, nor be dismay'd
By his high tone and vaunting menaces."
His words with courage fill'd the hero's breast,
And on he sprang, in dazzling arms arrayed;
But not unmark'd of white-arm'd Juno pass'd,
To meet Achilles, through the press of men,
Who thus address'd the Gods, to council call'd:
"Neptune and Pallas both, bethink ye well
What now should be our course; AEneas comes,
In dazzling arms array'd, to meet in fight
The son of Peleus; Phoebus sends him forth.
Say, then, shall we, encount'ring, to retreat
Perforce constrain him? or shall one of us
Beside Achilles stand, and give him strength
That he may nothing lack; and know himself