So kissed he Neoptolemus’ head and breast,
Clasping him round, and cried in rapture of joy:
“Hail, goodly son of that Achilles whom
I nursed a little one in mine own arms
With a glad heart. By Heaven’s high providence
Like a strong sapling waxed he in stature fast,
And daily I rejoiced to see his form
And prowess, my life’s blessing, honouring him
As though he were the son of mine old age; 720
For like a father did he honour me.
I was indeed his father, he my son
In spirit: thou hadst deemed us of one blood
Who were in heart one: but of nobler mould
Was he by far, in form and strength a God.
Thou art wholly like him — yea, I seem to see
Alive amid the Argives him for whom
Sharp anguish shrouds me ever. I waste away
In sorrowful age — oh that the grave had closed
On me while yet he lived! How blest to be 730
By loving hands of kinsmen laid to rest!
Ah child, my sorrowing heart will nevermore
Forget him! Chide me not for this my grief.
But now, help thou the Myrmidons and Greeks
In their sore strait: wreak on the foe thy wrath
For thy brave sire. It shall be thy renown
To slay this war-insatiate Telephus’ son;
For mightier art thou, and shalt prove, than he,
As was thy father than his wretched sire.”
Made answer golden-haired Achilles’ son: 740
“Ancient, our battle-prowess mighty Fate
And the o’ermastering War-god shall decide.”
But, as he spake, he had fain on that same day
Forth of the gates have rushed in his sire’s arms;
But night, which bringeth men release from toil,
Rose from the ocean veiled in sable pall.
With honour as of mighty Achilles’ self
Him mid the ships the glad Greeks hailed, who had won
Courage from that his eager rush to war.
With princely presents did they honour him, 750
With priceless gifts, whereby is wealth increased;
For some gave gold and silver, handmaids some,
Brass without weight gave these, and iron those;
Others in deep jars brought the ruddy wine:
Yea, fleetfoot steeds they gave, and battle-gear,
And raiment woven fair by women’s hands.
Glowed Neoptolemus’ heart for joy of these.
A feast they made for him amidst the tents,
And there extolled Achilles’ godlike son
With praise as of the immortal Heavenly Ones; 760
And joyful-voiced Agamemnon spake to him:
“Thou verily art the brave-souled Aeacid’s son,
His very image thou in stalwart might,
In beauty, stature, courage, and in soul.
Mine heart burns in me seeing thee. I trust
Thine hands and spear shall smite yon hosts of foes,
Shall smite the city of Priam world-renowned —
So like thy sire thou art! Methinks I see
Himself beside the ships, as when his shout
Of wrath for dead Patroclus shook the ranks 770
Of Troy. But he is with the Immortal Ones,
Yet, bending from that heaven, sends thee to-day
To save the Argives on destruction’s brink.”
Answered Achilles’ battle-eager son:
“Would I might meet him living yet, O King,
That so himself might see the son of his love
Not shaming his great father’s name. I trust
So shall it be, if the Gods grant me life.”
So spake he in wisdom and in modesty;
And all there marvelled at the godlike man. 780
But when with meat and wine their hearts were filled,
Then rose Achilles’ battle-eager son,
And from the feast passed forth unto the tent
That was his sire’s. Much armour of heroes slain
Lay there; and here and there were captive maids
Arraying that tent widowed of its lord,
As though its king lived. When that son beheld
Those Trojan arms and handmaid-thralls, he groaned,
By passionate longing for his father seized.
As when through dense oak-groves and tangled glens 790
Comes to the shadowed cave a lion’s whelp
Whose grim sire by the hunters hath been slain,
And looketh all around that empty den,
And seeth heaps of bones of steeds and kine
Slain theretofore, and grieveth for his sire;
Even so the heart of brave Peleides’ son
With grief was numbed. The handmaids marvelling gazed;
And fair Briseis’ self, when she beheld
Achilles’ son, was now right glad at heart,
And sorrowed now with memories of the dead. 800
Her soul was wildered all, as though indeed
There stood the aweless Aeacid living yet.
Meanwhile exultant Trojans camped aloof
Extolled Eurypylus the fierce and strong,
As erst they had praised Hector, when he smote
Their foes, defending Troy and all her wealth.
But when sweet sleep stole over mortal men,
Then sons of Troy and battle-biding Greeks
All slumber-heavy slept unsentinelled.
BOOK VIII. HOW HERCULES’ GRANDSON PERISHED IN FIGHT WITH THE SON OF ACHILLES.
When from the far sea-line, where is the cave
Of Dawn, rose up the sun, and scattered light
Over the earth, then did the eager sons
Of Troy and of Achaea arm themselves
Athirst for battle: these Achilles’ son
Cheered on to face the Trojans awelessly;
And those the giant strength of Telephus’ seed
Kindled. He trusted to dash down the wall
To earth, and utterly destroy the ships
With ravening fire, and slay the Argive host. 10
Ah, but his hope was as the morning breeze
Delusive: hard beside him stood the Fates
Laughing to scorn his vain imaginings.
Then to the Myrmidons spake Achilles’ son,
The aweless, to the fight enkindling them:
“Hear me, mine henchmen: take ye to your hearts
The spirit of war, that we may heal the wounds
Of Argos, and be ruin to her foes.
Let no man fear, for mighty prowess is
The child of courage; but fear slayeth strength 20
And spirit. Gird yourselves with strength for war;
Give foes no breathing-space, that they may say
That mid our ranks Achilles liveth yet.”
Then clad he with his father’s flashing arms
His shoulders. Then exulted Thetis’ heart
When from the sea she saw the mighty strength
Of her son’s son. Then forth with eagle-speed
Afront of that high wall he rushed, his ear
Drawn by the immortal horses of his sire.
As from the ocean-verge upsprings the sun 30
In glory, flashing fire far over earth —
Fire, when beside his radiant chariot-team
Races the red star Sirius, scatterer
Of woefullest diseases over men;
So flashed upon the eyes of Ilium’s host
That battle-eager hero, Achilles’ son.
Onward they whirled him, those immortal steeds,
The which, when now he longed to chase the foe
Back from the ships, Automedon, who wont
To rein them for his father, brought to him. 40
With joy that pair bore battleward their lord,
So like to Aeacus’ son, their deathless hearts
Held him no worser than Achilles’ self.
Laughing for glee the Argives gathered round
The might resistless of Neoptolemus,
Eager for fight as wasps [whose woodland bower
The axe] hath shaken, who dart swarming forth
Furious to sting the woodman: round their nest
Long eddying, they torment all passers by;
So streamed they forth from galley and from wall 50
Burning for fight, and that wide space was thronged,
And all the plain far blazed with armour-sheen,
As shone from heaven’s vault the sun thereon.
As flees the cloud-rack through the welkin wide
Scourged onward by the North-wind’s Titan blasts,
When winter-tide and snow are hard at hand,
And darkness overpalls the firmament;
So with their thronging squadrons was the earth
Covered before the ships. To heaven uprolled,
Dust hung on hovering wings’ men’s armour clashed; 60
Rattled a thousand chariots; horses neighed
On-rushing to the fray. Each warrior’s prowess
Kindled him with its trumpet-call to war.
As leap the long sea-rollers, onward hurled
By two winds terribly o’er th’ broad sea-flood
Roaring from viewless bournes, with whirlwind blasts
Crashing together, when a ruining storm
Maddens along the wide gulfs of the deep,
And moans the Sea-queen with her anguished waves
Which sweep from every hand, uptowering 70
Like precipiced mountains, while the bitter squall,
Ceaselessly veering, shrieks across the sea;
So clashed in strife those hosts from either hand
With mad rage. Strife incarnate spurred them on,
And their own prowess. Crashed together these
Like thunderclouds outlightening, thrilling the air.
With shattering trumpet-challenge, when the blasts
Are locked in frenzied wrestle, with mad breath
Rending the clouds, when Zeus is wroth with men
Who travail with iniquity, and flout 80
His law. So grappled they, as spear with spear
Clashed, shield with shield, and man on man was hurled.
And first Achilles’ war-impetuous son
Struck down stout Melaneus and Alcidamas,
Sons of the war-lord Alexinomus,
Who dwelt in Caunus mountain-cradled, nigh
The clear lake shining at Tarbelus’ feet
‘Neath snow-capt Imbrus. Menes, fleetfoot son
Of King Cassandrus, slew he, born to him
By fair Creusa, where the lovely streams 90
Of Lindus meet the sea, beside the marches
Of battle-biding Carians, and the heights
Of Lycia the renowned. He slew withal
Morys the spearman, who from Phrygia came;
Polybus and Hippomedon by his side
He laid, this stabbed to the heart, that pierced between
Shoulder and neck: man after man he slew.
Earth groaned ‘neath Trojan corpses; rank on rank
Crumbled before him, even as parched brakes
Sink down before the blast of ravening fire 100
When the north wind of latter summer blows;
So ruining squadrons fell before his charge.
Meanwhile Aeneas slew Aristolochus,
Crashing a great stone down on his head: it brake
Helmet and skull together, and fled his life.
Fleetfoot Eumaeus Diomede slew; he dwelt
In craggy Dardanus, where the bride-bed is
Whereon Anchises clasped the Queen of Love.
Agamemnon smote down Stratus: unto Thrace
Returned he not from war, but died far off 110
From his dear fatherland. And Meriones
Struck Chlemus down, Peisenor’s son, the friend
Of god-like Glaucus, and his comrade leal,
Who by Limurus’ outfall dwelt: the folk
Honoured him as their king, when reigned no more
Glaucus, in battle slain, — all who abode
Around Phoenice’s towers, and by the crest
Of Massicytus, and Chimaera’s glen.
So man slew man in fight; but more than all
Eurypylus hurled doom on many a foe. 120
First slew he battle-bider Eurytus,
Menoetius of the glancing taslet next,
Elephenor’s godlike comrades. Fell with these
Harpalus, wise Odysseus’ warrior-friend;
But in the fight afar that hero toiled,
And might not aid his fallen henchman: yet
Fierce Antiphus for that slain man was wroth,
And hurled his spear against Eurypylus,
Yet touched him not; the strong shaft glanced aside,
And pierced Meilanion battle-staunch, the son 130
Of Cleite lovely-faced, Erylaus’ bride,
Who bare him where Caicus meets the sea.
Wroth for his comrade slain, Eurypylus
Rushed upon Antiphus, but terror-winged
He plunged amid his comrades; so the spear
Of the avenger slew him not, whose doom
Was one day wretchedly to be devoured
By the manslaying Cyclops: so it pleased
Stern Fate, I know not why. Elsewhither sped
Eurypylus; and aye as he rushed on 140
Fell ‘neath his spear a multitude untold.
As tall trees, smitten by the strength of steel
In mountain-forest, fill the dark ravines,
Heaped on the earth confusedly, so fell
The Achaeans ‘neath Eurypylus’ flying spears —
Till heart-uplifted met him face to face
Achilles’ son. The long spears in their hands
They twain swung up, each hot to smite his foe.
But first Eurypylus cried the challenge-cry;
“Who art thou? Whence hast come to brave me here? 150
To Hades merciless Fate is bearing thee;
For in grim fight hath none escaped mine hands;
But whoso, eager for the fray, have come
Hither, on all have I hurled anguished death.
By Xanthus’ streams have dogs devoured their flesh
And gnawed their bones. Answer me, who art thou?
Whose be the steeds that bear thee exultant on?”
Answered Achilles’ battle-eager son:
“Wherefore, when I am hurrying to the fray,
Dost thou, a foe, put question thus to me, 160
As might a friend, touching my lineage,
Which many know? Achilles’ son am I,
Son of the man whose long spear smote thy sire,
And made him flee — yea, and the ruthless fates
Of death had seized him, but my father’s self
Healed him upon the brink of woeful death.
The steeds which bear me were my godlike sire’s;
These the West-wind begat, the Harpy bare:
Over the barren sea their feet can race
Skimming its crests: in speed they match the winds. 170
Since then thou know’st the lineage of my steeds
And mine, now put thou to the test the might
Of my strong spear, born on steep Pelion’s crest,
Who hath left his father-stock and forest there.”
He spake; and from the chariot sprang to earth
That glorious man: he swung the long spear up.
But in his brawny hand his foe hath seized
A monstrous stone: full at the golden shield
Of Neoptolemus he sped its flight;
But, no whir staggered by its whirlwind rush, 180
He like a giant mountain-foreland stood
Which all the ban
ded fury of river-floods
Can stir not, rooted in the eternal hills;
So stood unshaken still Achilles’ son.
Yet not for this Eurypylus’ dauntless might
Shrank from Achilles’ son invincible,
On-spurred by his own hardihood and by Fate.
Their hearts like caldrons seethed o’er fires of wrath,
Their glancing armour flashed about their limbs.
Like terrible lions each on other rushed, 190
Which fight amid the mountains famine-stung,
Writhing and leaping in the strain of strife
For a slain ox or stag, while all the glens
Ring with their conflict; so they grappled, so
Clashed they in pitiless strife. On either hand
Long lines of warriors Greek and Trojan toiled
In combat: round them roared up flames of war.
Like mighty rushing winds they hurled together
With eager spears for blood of life athirst.
Hard by them stood Enyo, spurred them on 200
Ceaselessly: never paused they from the strife.
Now hewed they each the other’s shield, and now
Thrust at the greaves, now at the crested helms.
Reckless of wounds, in that grim toil pressed on
Those aweless heroes: Strife incarnate watched
And gloated o’er them. Ran the sweat in streams
From either: straining hard they stood their ground,
For both were of the seed of Blessed Ones.
From Heaven, with hearts at variance, Gods looked down;
For some gave glory to Achilles’ son, 210
Some to Eurypylus the godlike. Still
They fought on, giving ground no more than rock.
Of granite mountains. Rang from side to side
Spear-smitten shields. At last the Pelian lance,
Sped onward by a mighty thrust, hath passed
Clear through Eurypylus’ throat. Forth poured the blood
Torrent-like; through the portal of the wound
The soul from the body flew: darkness of death
Dropped o’er his eyes. To earth in clanging arms
He fell, like stately pine or silver fir 220
Uprooted by the fury of Boreas;
Such space of earth Eurypylus’ giant frame
Covered in falling: rang again the floor
And plain of Troyland. Grey death-pallor swept
Over the corpse, and all the flush of life
Faded away. With a triumphant laugh
Shouted the mighty hero over him:
“Eurypylus, thou saidst thou wouldst destroy
The Danaan ships and men, wouldst slay us all
Delphi Complete Works of Quintus Smyrnaeus Page 19