by Homer
Which through the press he carried him. ‘Receive,’ said he, ‘old friend,
This gift, as funeral monument of my dear friend deceas’d,
Whom never you must see again. I make it his bequest
To you, as without any strife obtaining it from all.
Your shoulders must not undergo the churlish whorlbat’s fall,
Wrestling is past you, strife in darts, the foot’s celerity;
Harsh age in his years fetters you, and honour sets you free.’
Thus gave he it; he took and joy’d, but ere he thank’d, he said:
‘Now sure, my honourable son, in all points thou hast play’d
The comely orator. No more must I contend with nerves;
Feet fail, and hands; arms want that strength, that this and that swinge serves
Under your shoulders. Would to heav’n I were so young-chinn’d now,
And strength threw such a many of bones, to celebrate this show,
As when the Epians brought to fire (actively honouring thus)
King Amarynces’ funerals in fair Buprasius.
His sons put prizes down for him, where not a man match’d me
Of all the Epians, or the sons of great-soul’d Aetolie;
No, nor the Pylians themselves, my countrymen. I beat
Great Clydomedeus, Enops’ son, at buffets; at the feat
Of wrestling I laid under me one that against me rose,
Ancaeus, call’d Pleuronius. I made Iphiclus lose
The foot-game to me. At the spear I conquer’d Polidore
And strong Phyleus. Actor’s sons (of all men) only bore
The palm at horse-race, conquering with lashing on more horse,
And envying my victory, because (before their course)
All the best games were gone with me. These men were twins; one was
A most sure guide, a most sure guide. The other gave the pass
With rod and metal. This was then. But now, young men must wage
These works, and my joints undergo the sad defects of age,
Though then I was another man; at that time I excell’d
Amongst th’ heroës. But forth now, let th’ other rites be held
For thy deceas’d friend; this thy gift in all kind part I take,
And much it joys my heart that still, for my true kindness’ sake,
You give me memory. You perceive in what fit grace I stand
Amongst the Grecians; and to theirs, you set your graceful hand.
The gods give ample recompense of grace again to thee,
For this and all thy favours.’ Thus back through the thrust drave he,
When he had stay’d out all the praise of old Neleides.
And now for buffets (that rough game) he order’d passages,
Proposing a laborious mule, of six years old, untam’d
And fierce in handling, brought and bound in that place where they gam’d,
And to the conquer’d a round cup; both which he thus proclaims:
‘Atrides, and all friends of Greece, two men for these two games
I bid stand forth: who best can strike with high contracted fists
(Apollo giving him the wreath), know all about these lists,
Shall win a mule, patient of toil; the vanquish’d, this round cup.’
This utter’d, Panopeus’ son, Epeus, straight stood up,
A tall huge man, that to the nail knew that rude sport of hand;
And (seizing the tough mule) thus spake: ‘Now let some other stand
Forth for the cup; this mule is mine; at cuffs I boast me best:
Is ’t not enough I am no soldier? Who is worthiest
At all works? None – not possible. At this yet this I say,
And will perform this: who stands forth, I’ll burst him, I will bray
His bones as in a mortar; fetch surgeons enow to take
His corse from under me.’ This speech did all men silent make;
At last stood forth Euryalus, a man god-like, and son
To king Mecisteus, the grandchild of honour’d Talaon.
He was so strong, that (coming once to Thebes, when Oedipus
Had like rites solemniz’d for him) he went victorious
From all the Thebans. This rare man Tydides would prepare,
Put on his girdle, oxhide cords, fair wrought, and spent much care
That he might conquer, heart’ned him, and taught him tricks. Both dress’d
Fit for th’ affair, both forth were brought, then breast oppos’d to breast,
Fists against fists rose, and they join’d, rattling of jaws was there,
Gnashing of teeth, and heavy blows, dash’d blood out every where.
At length, Epeus spied clear way, rush’d in, and such a blow
Drave underneath the other’s ear, that his neat limbs did strow
The knock’d earth; no more legs had he, but as a huge fish laid
Near to the cold-weed-gathering shore, is with a north flaw fraid,
Shoots back, and in the black deep hides: so, sent against the ground,
Was foil’d Euryalus, his strength so hid in more profound
Deeps of Epeus; who took up the intranc’d competitor,
About whom rush’d a crowd of friends, that through the blusters bore
His falt’ring knees, he spitting up thick clots of blood, his head
Totter’d of one side, his sense gone – when (to a by-place led)
Thither they brought him the round cup. Pelides then set forth
Prize for a wrestling: to the best a trivet that was worth
Twelve oxen, great and fit for fire; the conquer’d was t’ obtain
A woman excellent in works, her beauty and her gain
Priz’d at four oxen. Up he stood, and thus proclaim’d: ‘Arise,
You wrestlers, that will prove for these.’ Out stepp’d the ample size
Of mighty Ajax, huge in strength; to him, Laertes’ son,
That crafty one, as huge in sleight. Their ceremony done
Of making ready, forth they stepp’d, catch elbows with strong hands;
And as the beams of some high house crack with a storm, yet stands
The house, being built by well-skill’d men: so crack’d their backbones, wrinch’d
With horrid twitches. In their sides, arms, shoulders (all bepinch’d)
Ran thick the wales red with the blood, ready to start out; both
Long’d for the conquest and the prize, yet show’d no play, being loth
To lose both; nor could Ithacus stir Ajax, nor could he
Hale down Ulysses, being more strong than with mere strength to be
Hurl’d from all vantage of his sleight. Tir’d then with tugging play,
Great Ajax Telamonius said: ‘Thou wisest man, or lay
My face up, or let me lay thine; let Jove take care for these.’
This said, he hoist him up to air, when Laertiades
His wiles forgat not; Ajax’ thigh he struck behind, and flat
He on his back fell; on his breast, Ulysses. Wonder’d at
Was this of all; all stood amaz’d. Then the-much-suffering-man
(Divine Ulysses) at next close the Telamonian
A little rais’d from earth – not quite, but with his knee implied
Lock’d legs; and down fell both on earth, close by each other’s side,
Both fill’d with dust, but starting up. The third close they had made,
Had not Achilles’ self stood up, restraining them, and bade:
‘No more tug one another thus, nor moil yourselves; re
ceive
Prize equal; conquest crowns ye both, the lists to others leave.’
They heard, and yielded willingly; brush’d off the dust, and on
Put other vests. Pelides then, to those that swiftest run,
Propos’d another prize: a bowl, beyond comparison
(Both for the size and workmanship) past all the bowls of earth;
It held six measures, silver all, but had his special worth
For workmanship, receiving form from those ingenious men
Of Sidon: the Phoenicians made choice and brought it then
Along the green sea, giving it to Thoas; by degrees
It came t’ Euneus, Jason’s son, who young Priamides
(Lycaon) of Achilles’ friend bought with it; and this, here,
Achilles made best game for him that best his feet could bear.
For second he propos’d an ox, a huge one and a fat;
And half a talent gold for last. These thus he set them at:
‘Rise, you that will assay for these.’ Forth stepp’d Oïleades;
Ulysses answer’d, and the third was one esteem’d past these
For footmanship, Antilochus. All rank’d, Achilles show’d
The race-scope. From the start they glid; Oïleades bestow’d
His feet the swiftest; close to him flew god-like Ithacus;
And as a lady at her loom, being young and beauteous,
Her silk-shuttle close to her breast (with grace that doth inflame,
And her white hand) lifts quick and oft, in drawing from her frame
Her gentle thread, which she unwinds, with ever at her breast
Gracing her fair hand: so close still, and with such interest
In all men’s likings, Ithacus unwound, and spent the race
By him before; took out his steps, with putting in their place
Promptly and gracefully his own, sprinkled the dust before,
And clouded with his breath his head. So facilie he bore
His royal person, that he struck shouts from the Greeks, with thirst
That he should conquer; though he flew, yet ‘Come, come, O come first,’
Ever they cried to him, and this ev’n his wise breast did move
To more desire of victory; it made him pray, and prove
Minerva’s aid (his fautress still): ‘O goddess, hear,’ said he,
‘And to my feet stoop with thy help, now happy fautress be.’
She was; and light made all his limbs, and now (both near their crown)
Minerva tripp’d up Ajax’ heels, and headlong he fell down
Amids the ordure of the beasts, there negligently left
Since they were slain there; and by this, Minerva’s friend bereft
Oïleades of that rich bowl, and left his lips, nose, eyes,
Ruthfully smear’d. The fat ox yet he seiz’d for second prize,
Held by the horn, spit out the tail, and thus spake all besmear’d:
‘O villainous chance! This Ithacus so highly is endear’d
To this Minerva, that her hand is ever in his deeds:
She, like his mother, nestles him, for from her it proceeds
(I know) that I am us’d thus.’ This all in light laughter cast,
Amongst whom quick Antilochus laugh’d out his coming last,
Thus wittily: ‘Know, all my friends, that all times past, and now,
The gods most honour most-liv’d men. Oïleades ye know
More old than I, but Ithacus is of the foremost race,
First generation of men. Give the old man his grace.
They count him of the green-hair’d eld – they may, or in his flow’r,
For not our greatest flourisher can equal him in pow’r
Of foot-strife, but Aeacides.’ Thus sooth’d he Thetis’ son,
Who thus accepted it: ‘Well, youth, your praises shall not run
With unrewarded feet on mine. Your half a talent’s prize
I’ll make a whole one; take you, sir.’ He took, and joy’d. Then flies
Another game forth: Thetis’ son set in the lists a lance,
A shield, and helmet, being th’ arms Sarpedon did advance
Against Patroclus; and he priz’d. And thus he nam’d the address:
‘Stand forth two the most excellent, arm’d; and before all these
Give mutual onset to the touch and wounds of either’s flesh:
Who first shall wound, through other’s arms, his blood appearing fresh,
Shall win this sword, silver’d and hatch’d; the blade is right of Thrace,
Asteropaeus yielded it. These arms shall part their grace
With either’s valour; and the men I’ll liberally feast
At my pavilion.’ To this game, the first man that address’d
Was Ajax Telamonius; to him, king Diomed;
Both, in oppos’d parts of the press full arm’d, both entered
The lists amids the multitude, put looks on so austere,
And join’d so roughly, that amaze surpris’d the Greeks, in fear
Of either’s mischief. Thrice they threw their fierce darts, and clos’d thrice.
Then Ajax struck through Diomed’s shield, but did no prejudice;
His curets sav’d him. Diomed’s dart still over shoulders flew,
Still mounting with the spirit it bore. And now rough Ajax grew
So violent, that the Greeks cried: ‘Hold, no more; let them no more;
Give equal prize to either.’ Yet the sword propos’d before
For him did best, Achilles gave to Diomed. Then a stone
(In fashion of a sphere) he show’d, of no invention,
But natural, only melted through with iron. ’Twas the bowl
That king Eëtion us’d to hurl: but he, bereft of soul
By great Achilles, to the fleet, with store of other prize,
He brought it; and propos’d it now, both for the exercise
And prize itself. He stood, and said: ‘Rise you that will approve
Your arms’ strengths now in this brave strife: his vigour that can move
This furthest, needs no game but this, for reach he ne’er so far
With large fields of his own in Greece (and so needs for his car,
His plough, or other tools of thrift, much iron), I’ll able this
For five revolved years no need shall use his messages
To any town to furnish him, this only bowl shall yield
Iron enough for all affairs.’ This said, to try this field,
First Polypaetes issued, next Leontaeus, third
Great Ajax, huge Epeus fourth. Yet he was first that stirr’d
That mine of iron. Up it went, and up he toss’d it so,
That laughter took up all the field. The next man that did throw
Was Leontaeus; Ajax third, who gave it such a hand,
That far past both their marks it flew. But now ’twas to be mann’d
By Polypaetes, and as far as at an ox that strays
A herdsman can swing out his goad, so far did he outraise
The stone past all men; all the field rose in a shout to see’t.
About him flock’d his friends, and bore the royal game to fleet.
For archery he then set forth ten axes edg’d two ways,
And ten of one edge. On the shore, far off, he caus’d to raise
A ship-mast, to whose top they tied a fearful dove by th’ foot,
At which all shot, the game put thus: he that the dove could shoot,
Nor touch the string that fast’ned her, the two-edg’d tools should bear
All to the fleet. Who touch’d the string, and miss’d the dove, should share
The one-edg’d axes. This propos’d, king Teucer’s force arose,
And with him rose Meriones; and now lots must dispose
Their shooting first; both which let fall into a helm of brass;
First Teucer’s came, and first he shot; and his cross fortune was
To shoot the string, the dove untouch’d: Apollo did envy
His skill, since not to him he vow’d (being god of archery)
A first fall’n lamb. The bitter shaft yet cut in two the cord,
That down fell, and the dove aloft up to the welkin soar’d.
The Greeks gave shouts; Meriones first made a hearty vow
To sacrifice a first-fall’n lamb to him that rules the bow,
And then fell to his aim, his shaft being ready nock’d before.
He spied her in the clouds that here, there, everywhere did soar;
Yet at her height he reach’d her side, struck her quite through, and down
The shaft fell at his feet; the dove the mast again did crown.
There hung the head, and all her plumes were ruffled, she stark dead,
And there (far off from him) she fell. The people wondered,
And stood astonish’d, th’ archer pleas’d. Aeacides then shows
A long lance, and a cauldron new, engrail’d with twenty hues,
Priz’d at an ox. These games were show’d for men at darts, and then
Up rose the general of all, up rose the king of men;
Up rose late-crown’d Meriones. Achilles (seeing the king
Do him this grace) prevents more deed, his royal offering
Thus interrupting: ‘King of men, we well conceive how far
Thy worth superior is to all, how much most singular
Thy pow’r is, and thy skill in darts; accept then this poor prize
Without contention, and (your will pleas’d with what I advise)
Afford Meriones the lance.’ The king was nothing slow
To that fit grace. Achilles then the brass lance did bestow
On good Meriones. The king his present would not save,
But to renown’d Talthybius the goodly cauldron gave.
The end of the twenty-third book
Book 24
The Argument
Jove, entertaining care of Hector’s corse,
Sends Thetis to her son for his remorse,