by Homer
Still laid upon his horses' shoulder-points;
As lightly they, high-stepping, scour'd the plain.
Still on the charioteer the dust was flung;
As close upon the flying-footed steeds
Follow'd the car with gold and tin inlaid;
And lightly, as they flew along, were left
Impress'd the wheel-tracks on the sandy plain.
There in the midst he stood, the sweat profuse
Down-pouring from his horses' heads and chests;
Down from the glitt'ring car he leap'd to earth,
And lean'd his whip against the chariot yoke;
Nor long delay'd the valiant Sthenelus,
But eagerly sprang forth to claim the prize;
Then to his brave companions gave in charge
To lead away the woman, and to bear
The tripod, while himself unyok'd the steeds.
Nest came the horses of Antilochus,
Who had by stratagem, and not by speed,
O'er Menelaus triumph'd; yet e'en so
Atrides' flying coursers press'd him hard;
For but so far as from the chariot-wheel
A horse, when harness'd to a royal car;
Whose tail, back-streaming, with the utmost hairs
Brushes the felloes; close before the wheel,
Small space between, he scours the wide-spread plain:
So far was Menelaus in the rear
Of Nestor's son; at first, a discus' cast
Between them lay; but rapidly his ground
He gain'd — so well the speed and courage serv'd
Of AEthe, Agamemnon's beauteous mare;
And, but a little farther were the course,
Had pass'd him by, nor left the race in doubt.
Behind the noble son of Atreus came,
A jav'lin's flight apart, Meriones,
The faithful follower of Idomeneus:
His were the slowest horses, and himself
The least experienc'd in the rapid race.
Dragging his broken car, came last of all,
His horses driv'n in front, Admetus' son;
Achilles swift of foot with pity saw,
And to the Greeks his winged words address'd:
"See where the best of all the last appears;
But let him take, as meet, the second prize;
The first belongs of right to Tydeus' son."
Thus he; they all assented to his words;
And, by the gen'ral voice of Greece, the mare
Had now been his; but noble Nestor's son,
Antilochus, stood up, his right to claim,
And to Achilles, Peleus' son, replied:
"Achilles, thou wilt do me grievous wrong,
If thou thy words accomplish; for my prize
Thou tak'st away, because mishap befell
His car and horses, by no fault of his;
Yet had he to th' Immortals made his pray'r,
He surely had not thus been last of all.
But, pitying him, if so thy mind incline,
Thy tents contain good store of gold, and brass,
And sheep, and female slaves, and noble steeds;
For him, of these, hereafter mayst thou take
A prize of higher value; or e'en now,
And with th' applause of all; but for the mare,
I will not give her up; and let who will
Stand forth, my own right hand shall guard my prize."
He said; and smil'd Achilles swift of foot,
Delighted; for he lov'd the noble youth,
To whom his winged words he thus address'd:
"Antilochus, if such be thy request,
That for Eumelus I should add a prize,
This too I grant thee; and to him I give
My breastplate, from Asteropaeus won,
Of brass, around whose edge is roll'd a stream
Of shining tin; a gift of goodly price."
He said, and bade Automedon, his friend
And comrade, bring the breastplate from his tent;
He went, and brought it; in Eumelus' hand
He plac'd it; he with joy the gift receiv'd.
Then Menelaus, sad at heart, arose,
Burning with wrath against Antilochus;
And while the herald in the monarch's hand
His royal sceptre plac'd, and bade the Greeks
Keep silence, thus the godlike hero spoke:
"Antilochus, till now reputed wise,
What hast thou done? thou hast impugn'd my skill,
And sham'd my horses, who hast brought thine own,
Inferior far, before them to the goal.
But come, ye chiefs and councillors of Greece,
Judge ye between us, fav'ring neither side:
That none of all the brass-clad Greeks may say
That Menelaus hath by false reports
O'erborne Antilochus, and holds his prize:
His horses fairly worsted, and himself
Triumphant only by superior pow'r.
Or come now, I myself will judgment give;
Nor deem I any Greek will find to blame
In my decision, for 'tis fair and just.
Antilochus, come forward, noble chief;
And standing, as 'tis meet, before the car
And horses, in thy hand the slender whip
Wherewith thou drov'st, upon the horses lay
Thy hand, and by Earth-shaking Neptune swear
That not of malice, and by set design,
Thou didst by fraud impede my chariot's course."
To whom Antilochus with prudent speech:
"Have patience with me yet; for I, O King,
O Menelaus, am thy junior far;
My elder and superior thee I own.
Thou know'st th' o'er-eager vehemence of youth,
How quick in temper, and in judgment weak.
Set then thy heart at ease; the mare I won
I freely give; and if aught else of mine
Thou shouldst desire, would sooner give it all,
Than all my life be low'r'd, illustrious King,
In thine esteem, and sin against the Gods."
Thus saying, noble Nestor's son led forth,
And plac'd in Menelaus' hands the mare:
The monarch's soul was melted, like the dew
Which glitters on the ears of growing corn,
That bristle o'er the plain; e'en so thy soul,
O Menelaus, melted at his speech;
To whom were thus address'd thy winged words:
"Antilochus, at once I lay aside
My anger; thou art prudent, and not apt
To be thus led astray; but now thy youth
Thy judgment hath o'erpow'r'd; seek not henceforth
By trick'ry o'er thine elders to prevail.
To any other man of all the Greeks
I scarce so much had yielded; but for that
Thyself hast labour'd much, and much endur'd,
Thou, thy good sire, and brother, in my cause:
I yield me to thy pray'rs; and give, to boot,
The mare, though mine of right; that these may know
I am not of a harsh, unyielding mood."
He said, and to Noemon gave in charge,
The faithful comrade of Antilochus,
The mare; himself the glitt'ring caldron took.
Of gold two talents, to the fourth assign'd,
Fourth in the race, Meriones receiv'd;
Still the fifth prize, a vase with double cup,
Remain'd; Achilles this to Nestor gave,
Before th' assembled Greeks, as thus he spoke:
"Take this, old man, and for an heirloom keep,
In mem'ry of Patroclus' fun'ral games,
Whom thou no more amid the Greeks shalt see.
Freely I give it thee; for thou no more
Canst box, or wrestle, or in sportive strife
The jav'lin throw, or race with flyi
ng feet;
For age with heavy hand hath bow'd thee down."
He said, and plac'd it in his hand; th' old man
Beceiv'd with joy the gift, and thus replied:
"All thou hast said, my son, is simple truth:
No firmness now my limbs and feet retain,
Nor can my arms with freedom, as of old,
Straight from the shoulder, right and left, strike out.
Oh that such youth and vigour yet were mine,
As when th' Epeians in Buprasium held
The royal Amarynceus' fun'ral games,
And when the monarch's sons his prizes gave!
Then could not one of all th' Epeian race,
Or Pylians, or AEtolians, vie with me.
In boxing, Clytomedes, OEnops' son,
I vanquished; then Anchaeus, who stood up
To wrestle with me, I with ease o'erthrew;
Iphiclus I outran, though fleet of foot;
In hurling with the spear, with Phyleus strove,
And Polydorus, and surpass'd them both.
The sons of Actor in the chariot-race
Alone o'ercame me; as in number more,
And grudging more my triumph, since remain'd,
This contest to reward, the richest prize.
They were twin brothers; one who held the reins,
Still drove, and drove; the other plied the whip.
Such was I once; but now must younger men
Engage in deeds like these; and I, the chief
Of heroes once, must bow to weary age.
But honour thou with fitting fun'ral games
Thy comrade: I accept, well-pleas'd, thy gift,
My heart rejoicing that thou still retain'st
Of me a kindly mem'ry, nor o'erlook'st
The place of honour, which among the Greeks
Belongs to me of right; for this, the Gods
Reward thee with a worthy recompense!"
He said; Achilles listen'd to the praise
Of Neleus' son; then join'd the gen'ral throng.
Next, he set forth the prizes, to reward
The labours of the sturdy pugilists;
A hardy mule he tether'd in the ring,
Unbroken, six years old, most hard to tame;
And for the vanquished man, a double cup;
Then rose, and to the Greeks proclaim'd aloud:
"Thou son of Atreus, and ye well-greav'd Greeks,
For these we bid two champions brave stand forth.
And in the boxer's manly toil contend;
And he, whose stern endurance Phoebus crowns
With vict'ry, recogniz'd by all the Greeks,
He to his tent shall lead the hardy mule;
The loser shall the double cup receive."
He said; up sprang Epeius, tall and stout,
A boxer skill'd, the son of Panopeus,
Who laid his hand upon the mule, and said:
"Stand forth, if any care the cup to win;
The mule, methinks, no Greek can bear away
From me, who glory in the champion's name.
Is't not enough, that in the battle-field
I claim no special praise? 'tis not for man
In all things to excel; but this I say,
And will make good my words, who meets me here,
I mean to pound his flesh, and smash his bones.
See that his seconds be at hand, and prompt
To bear him from the ring, by me subdued."
He said; they all in silence heard his speech:
Only Euryalus, a godlike chief,
Son of Mecistheus, Talaion's son,
Stood forth opposing; he had once in Thebes
Join'd in the fun'ral games of OEdipus,
And there had vanquish'd all of Cadmian race.
On him attended valiant Diomed,
With cheering words, and wishes of success.
Around his waist he fasten'd first the belt,
Then gave the well-cut gauntlets for his hands.
Of wild bull's hide. When both were thus equipp'd,
Into the centre of the ring they stepp'd:
There, face to face, with sinewy arms uprais'd,
They stood awhile, then clos'd; strong hand with hand
Mingling, in rapid interchange of blows.
Dire was the clatter of their jaws; the sweat
Pour'd forth, profuse, from ev'ry limb; then rush'd
Epeius on, and full upon the cheek,
Half turn'd aside, let fall a stagg'ring blow;
Nor stood Euryalus; but, legs and feet
Knock'd from beneath him, prone to earth he fell;
And as a fish, that flounders on the sand,
Thrown by rude Boreas on the weedy beach,
Till cover'd o'er by the returning wave;
So flounder'd he beneath that stunning blow.
But brave Epeius took him by the hand,
And rais'd him up; his comrades crowded round
And bore him from the field, with dragging steps,
Spitting forth clotted gore, his heavy head
Rolling from side to side; within his tent
They laid him down, unconscious; to the ring
Then back returning, bore away the cup.
Achilles next before the Greeks display'd
The prizes of the hardy wrestlers' skill:
The victor's prize, a tripod vast, fire-proof,
And at twelve oxen by the Greeks apprais'd;
And for the vanquish'd man, a female slave
Pric'd at four oxen, skill'd in household work.
Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim'd,
"Stand forth, whoe'er this contest will essay."
He said; and straight uprose the giant form
Of Ajax Telamon; with him uprose
Ulysses, skill'd in ev'ry crafty wile.
Girt with the belt, within the ring they stood,
And each, with stalwart grasp, laid hold on each;
As stand two rafters of a lofty house,
Each propping each, by skilful architect
Design'd the tempest's fury to withstand.
Creak'd their backbones beneath the tug and strain
Of those strong arms; their sweat pour'd down like rain;
And bloody weals of livid purple hue
Their sides and shoulders streak'd, as sternly they
For vict'ry and the well-wrought tripod strove.
Nor could Ulysses Ajax overthrow,
Nor Ajax bring Ulysses to the ground,
So stubbornly he stood; but when the Greeks
Were weary of the long-protracted strife,
Thus to Ulysses mighty Ajax spoke:
"Ulysses sage, Laertes' godlike son,
Or lift thou me, or I will thee uplift:
The issue of our struggle rests with Jove."
He said, and rais'd Ulysses from the ground;
Nor he his ancient craft remember'd not,
But lock'd his leg around, and striking sharp
Upon the hollow of the knee, the joint
Gave way; the giant Ajax backwards fell,
Ulysses on his breast; the people saw,
And marvell'd. Then in turn Ulysses strove
Ajax to lift; a little way he mov'd,
But fail'd to lift him fairly from, the ground;
Yet crook'd his knee, that both together fell,
And side by side, defil'd with dust, they lay.
And now a third encounter had they tried
But rose Achilles, and the combat stay'd:
"Forbear, nor waste your strength, in farther strife;
Ye both are victors; both then bear away
An equal meed of honour; and withdraw,
That other Greeks may other contests wage."
Thus spoke Achilles: they his words obey'd,
And brushing off the dust, their garments donn'd.
The prizes of the runners, swift of foot,
> Achilles next set forth; a silver bowl,
Six measures its content, for workmanship
Unmatch'd on earth, of Sidon's costliest art
The product rare; thence o'er the misty sea
Brought by Phoenicians, who, in port arriv'd,
Gave it to Thoas; by Euneus last,
The son of Jason, to Patroclus paid,
In ransom of Lycaon, Priam's son;
Which now Achilles, on his friend's behalf,
Assign'd as his reward, whoe'er should prove
The lightest foot, and speediest in the race.
A steer, well fatten'd, was the second prize,
And half a talent, for the third, of gold.
He rose, and to the Greeks proclaim'd aloud,
"Stand forth, whoe'er this contest will essay."
He said: uprose Oileus' active son;
Uprose Ulysses, skill'd in ev'ry wile,
And noble Nestor's son, Antilochus,
Who all the youth in speed of foot surpass'd.
They stood in line: Achilles pointed out
The limits of the course; as from the goal
They stretch'd them to the race, Oileus' son
First shot ahead; Ulysses following close;
Nor farther than the shuttle from the breast
Of some fair woman, when her outstretch'd arm
Has thrown the woof athwart the warp, and back
Withdraws it tow'rd her breast; so close behind
Ulysses press'd on Ajax, and his feet
Trod in his steps, ere settled yet the dust.
His breath was on his shoulders, as the plain
He lightly skimm'd; the Greeks with eager shouts
Still cheering, as he strain'd to win the prize.
But as they near'd the goal, Ulysses thus
To blue-ey'd Pallas made his mental pray'r:
"Now hear me, Goddess, and my feet befriend."
Thus as he pray'd, his pray'r the Goddess heard,
And all his limbs with active vigour fill'd;
And, as they stretch'd their hands to seize the prize,
Tripp'd up by Pallas, Ajax slipp'd and fell,
Amid the offal of the lowing kine
Which o'er Patroclus Peleus' son had slain.
His mouth and nostrils were with offal fill'd.
First in the race, Ulysses bore away
The silver bowl; the steer to Ajax fell;
And as upon the horn he laid his hand,
Sputt'ring the offal out, he call'd aloud:
"Lo, how the Goddess has my steps bewray'd,
Who guards Ulysses with a mother's care."
Thus as he spoke, loud laugh'd the merry Greeks.
Antilochus the sole remaining prize
Receiv'd, and, laughing, thus the Greeks address'd:
"I tell you, friends, but what yourselves do know,
How of the elder men th' immortal Gods
Take special care; for Ajax' years not much