Calm he looks on, and ev’ry death enjoys.
Now the slow course of all-impairing time
Unstrings my nerves, and ends my manly prime; 815
Oh! had I still that strength my youth possess’d,
When this bold arm th’ Epeian powers oppress’d,
The bulls of Elis in glad triumph led,
And stretch’d the great Itymonæus dead!
‘Then, from my fury fled the trembling swains, 820
And ours was all the plunder of the plains:
Fifty white flocks, full fifty herds of swine,
As many goats, as many lowing kine:
And thrice the number of unrivall’d steeds,
All teeming females, and of gen’rous breeds. 825
These, as my first essay of arms, I won;
Old Neleus gloried in his conquering son.
Thus Elis forc’d, her long arrears restor’d,
And shares were parted to each Pylian lord.
The state of Pyle was sunk to last despair, 830
When the proud Elians first commenced the war.
For Neleus’ sons Alcides’ rage had slain;
Of twelve bold brothers, I alone remain!
Oppress’d, we arm’d; and now, this conquest gain’d,
My sire three hundred chosen sheep obtain’d. 835
(That large reprisal he might justly claim,
For prize defrauded, and insulted fame;
When Elis’ monarch at the public course
Detain’d his chariot, and victorious horse.)
The rest the people shared; myself survey’d 840
The just partition, and due victims paid.
Three days were past, when Elis rose to war,
With many a courser, and with many a car;
The sons of Actor at their army’s head
(Young as they were) the vengeful squadrons led. 845
High on a rock fair Thryoëssa stands,
Our utmost frontier on the Pylian lands;
Not far the streams of famed Alphæus flow;
The stream they pass’d, and pitch’d their tents below;
Pallas, descending in the shades of night, 850
Alarms the Pylians, and commands the fight.
Each burns for Fame, and swells with martial pride;
Myself the foremost; but my sire denied;
Fear’d for my youth, exposed to stern alarms,
And stopp’d my chariot, and detain’d my arms. 855
My sire denied in vain: on foot I fled
Amidst our chariots: for the Goddess led.
‘Along fair Arene’s delightful plain,
Soft Minyas rolls his waters to the main.
There, horse and foot, the Pylian troops unite, 860
And, sheathed in arms, expect the dawning light.
Thence, ere the sun advanc’d his noon-day flame,
To great Alphæus’ sacred source we came.
There first to Jove our solemn rites were paid;
An untamed heifer pleas’d the Blue-eyed Maid, 865
A bull Alphæus; and a bull was slain
To the blue Monarch of the wat’ry Main.
In arms we slept, beside the winding flood,
While round the town the fierce Epeians stood.
Soon as the sun, with all-revealing ray, 870
Flamed in the front of Heav’n, and gave the day,
Bright scenes of arms, and works of war appear;
The nations meet; there Pylos, Elis here.
The first who fell, beneath my jav’lin bled;
King Augias’ son, and spouse of Agamede: 875
(She that all simples’ healing virtues knew,
And every herb that drinks the morning dew.)
I seiz’d his car, the van of battle led;
Th’ Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled.
The foe dispers’d, their bravest warrior kill’d, 880
Fierce as a whirlwind now I swept the field:
Full fifty captive chariots graced my train;
Two Chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain.
Then Actor’s sons had died, but Neptune shrouds
The youthful heroes in a veil of clouds. 885
O’er heapy shields, and o’er the prostrate throng,
Collecting spoils, and slaught’ring all along,
Thro’ wide Buprasian fields we forc’d the foes,
Where o’er the vales th’ Olenian rocks arose;
Till Pallas stopp’d us where Alisium flows. 890
Ev’n there, the hindmost of their rear I slay,
And the same arm that led, concludes the day;
Then back to Pyle triumphant take my way.
There to high Jove were public thanks assign’d
As first of Gods; to Nestor, of mankind. 895
Such then I was, impell’d by youthful blood:
So prov’d my valour for my country’s good.
Achilles with inactive fury glows,
And gives to passion what to Greece he owes.
How shall he grieve, when to th’ eternal shade 900
Her hosts shall sink, nor his the power to aid?
O friend! my memory recalls the day,
When, gath’ring aids along the Grecian sea,
I, and Ulysses, touch’d at Phthia’s port,
And enter’d Peleus’ hospitable court. 905
A bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice,
And pour’d libations on the flaming thighs.
Thyself, Achilles, and thy rev’rend sire
Menœtius, turn’d the fragments on the fire.
Achilles sees us, to the feast invites; 910
Social we sit, and share the genial rites.
We then explain’d the cause on which we came,
Urged you to arms, and found you fierce for fame.
Your ancient fathers gen’rous precepts gave:
Peleus said only this: “My son! be brave,” 915
Menœtius thus: “Tho’ great Achilles shine
In strength superior, and of race divine,
Yet cooler thoughts thy elder years attend;
Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend.”
Thus spoke your father at Thessalia’s court; 920
Words now forgot, tho’ now of vast import.
Ah! try the utmost that a friend can say,
Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey;
Some fav’ring God Achilles’ heart may move;
Tho’ deaf to glory, he may yield to love. 925
If some dire oracle his breast alarm,
If aught from Heav’n withhold his saving arm;
Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine,
If thou but lead the Myrmidonian line;
Clad in Achilles’ arms, if thou appear, 930
Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from war!
Press’d by fresh forces, her o’erlabour’d train
Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again.’
This touch’d his gen’rous heart, and from the tent
Along the shore with hasty strides he went; 935
Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand,
The public mart and courts of justice stand,
Where the tall fleet of great Ulysses lies,
And altars to the guardian Gods arise;
There sad he met the brave Evæmon’s son; 940
Large painful drops from all his members run;
An arrow’s head yet rooted in his wound,
The sable blood in circles mark’d the ground,
As, faintly reeling, he confess’d the smart:
Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart. 945
Divine compassion touch’d Patroclus’ breast,
Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend address’d:
‘Ah, hapless leaders of the Grecian host!
Thus must ye perish on a barb’rous coast?
Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore, 950
Far from your friends, and from your native shore?
Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand?
Resists she yet the raging Hector’s hand?
Or are her heroes doom’d to die with shame,
And this the period of our wars and fame?’ 955
Eurypylus replies: ‘No more, my friend,
Greece is no more! this day her glories end.
Ev’n to the ships victorious Troy pursues,
Her force increasing as her toil renews.
Those Chiefs, that used her utmost rage to meet, 960
Lie pierc’d with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet.
But thou, Patroclus! act a friendly part,
Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly dart;
With lukewarm water wash the gore away,
With healing balms the raging smart allay, 965
Such as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy,
Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.
Of two famed surgeons, Podalirius stands
This hour surrounded by the Trojan bands;
And great Machaon, wounded in his tent, 970
Now wants that succour which so oft he lent.’
To whom the Chief: ‘What then remains to do?
Th’ event of things the Gods alone can view.
Charged by Achilles’ great command I fly,
And bear with haste the Pylian King’s reply: 975
But thy distress this instant claims relief.’
He said, and in his arms upheld the Chief.
The slaves their master’s slow approach survey’d,
And hides of oxen on the floor displayed:
There stretch’d at length the wounded hero lay; 980
Patroclus cut the forky steel away.
Then in his hands a bitter root he bruis’d;
The wound he wash’d, the styptic juice infused.
The closing flesh that instant ceas’d to glow,
The wound to torture, and the blood to flow. 985
Iliad Book XII. The Battle at the Grecian Wall
THE ARGUMENT
The Greeks being retired into their entrenchments, Hector attempts to force them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas advises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The Trojans follow his counsel, and having divided their army into five bodies of foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of an eagle with a serpent in his talons, which appeared on the left hand of the Trojans, Polydamas endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector opposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many actions, Sarpedon makes the first breach in the wall: Hector also, casting a stone of a vast size, forces open one of the gates, and enters at the head of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their ships.
WHILE thus the hero’s pious cares attend
The cure and safety of his wounded friend,
Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engage,
And mutual deaths are dealt with mutual rage.
Nor long the trench or lofty walls oppose; 5
With Gods averse th’ ill-fated works arose;
Their powers neglected, and no victim slain,
The walls are rais’d, the trenches sunk, in vain.
Without the Gods, how short a period stands
The proudest monument of mortal hands! 10
This stood, while Hector and Achilles raged,
While sacred Troy the warring hosts engaged;
But when her sons were slain, her city burn’d,
And what survived of Greece to Greece return’d;
Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore, 15
Then Ida’s summits pour’d their wat’ry store;
Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their rills,
Caresus roaring down the stony hills,
Æsepus, Granicus, with mingled force,
And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful source; 20
And gulfy Simois, rolling to the main
Helmets, and shields, and godlike heroes slain:
These, turn’d by Phœbus from their wonted ways,
Deluged the rampire nine continual days;
The weight of waters saps the yielding wall, 25
And to the sea the floating bulwarks fall.
Incessant cataracts the Thund’rer pours,
And half the skies descend in sluicy showers.
The God of Ocean, marching stern before,
With his huge trident wounds the trembling shore, 30
Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves,
And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves.
Now, smooth’d with sand, and levell’d by the flood,
No fragment tells where once the wonder stood;
In their old bounds the rivers roll again, 35
Shine ‘twixt the hills, or wander o’er the plain.
But this the Gods in later times perform;
As yet the bulwark stood, and braved the storm!
The strokes yet echoed of contending powers;
War thunder’d at the gates, and blood distain’d the towers. 40
Smote by the arm of Jove, and dire dismay,
Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay;
Hector’s approach in every wind they hear,
And Hector’s fury every moment fear.
He, like a whirlwind, toss’d the scatt’ring throng, 45
Mingled the troops, and drove the field along,
So, ‘midst the dogs and hunters’ daring bands,
Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands;
Arm’d foes around a dreadful circle form,
And hissing jav’lins rain an iron storm; 50
His powers untamed their bold assault defy,
And, where he turns, the rout disperse, or die:
He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all,
And, if he falls, his courage makes him fall.
With equal rage encompass’d Hector glows; 55
Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows.
The panting steeds impatient fury breathe,
But snort and tremble at the gulf beneath;
Just on the brink, they neigh, and paw the ground,
And the turf trembles, and the skies resound. 60
Eager they view’d the prospect dark and deep,
Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep;
The bottom bare (a formidable show)!
And bristled thick with sharpen’d stakes below.
The foot alone this strong defence could force, 65
And try the pass impervious to the horse.
This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave,
Restrain’d great Hector, and this counsel gave:
‘O thou! bold leader of our Trojan bands,
And you, confed’rate Chiefs from foreign lands! 70
What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find,
The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind?
No pass thro’ those without a thousand wounds;
No space for combat in yon narrow bounds.
Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown, 75
On certain dangers we too rashly run:
If ‘t is his will our haughty foes to tame,
O may this instant end the Grecian name!
Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall,
And one great day destroy, and bury all! 80
But should they turn, and here oppress our train,
What hopes, what methods of retreat remain?
Wedg’d in the trench, by our own troops confused,
In one promiscuous carnage crush’d and bruis’d,
All Troy must perish, if their arms prevail, 85
Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale.
Hear then, ye warriors! and obey with speed;
Back from the trenches let your steeds be led;
Then all alighting, wedg’d in firm array,
Proceed on foot, and Hector lead
the way. 90
So Greece shall stoop before our conquering power,
And this (if Jove consent) her fatal hour.’
This counsel pleas’d: the godlike Hector sprung
Swift from his seat; his clanging armour rung.
The Chief’s example follow’d by his train, 95
Each quits his car, and issues on the plain.
By orders strict the charioteers enjoin’d,
Compel the coursers to their ranks behind.
The forces part in five distinguish’d bands,
And all obey their sev’ral Chiefs’ commands, 100
The best and bravest in the first conspire,
Pant for the fight, and threat the fleet with fire:
Great Hector glorious in the van of these,
Polydamas, and brave Cebriones.
Before the next the graceful Paris shines, 105
And bold Alcathoüs, and Agenor joins.
The sons of Priam with the third appear,
Deïphobus, and Helenus the seer;
In arms with these the mighty Asius stood,
Who drew from Hyrtacus his noble blood, 110
And whom Arisba’s yellow coursers bore,
The coursers fed on Selle’s winding shore.
Antenor’s sons the fourth battalion guide,
And great Æneas, born on fountful Ide.
Divine Sarpedon the last band obey’d, 115
Whom Glaucus and Asteropæus aid;
Next him, the bravest at their army’s head,
But he more brave than all the hosts he led.
Now, with compacted shields, in close array,
The moving legions speed their headlong way: 120
Already in their hopes they fire the fleet,
And see the Grecians gasping at their feet.
While every Trojan thus, and every aid,
Th’ advice of wise Polydamas obey’d;
Asius alone, confiding in his car, 125
His vaunted coursers urged to meet the war.
Unhappy hero! and advised in vain!
Those wheels returning ne’er shall mark the plain;
No more those coursers with triumphant joy
Restore their master to the gates of Troy! 130
Black death attends behind the Grecian wall,
And great Idomeneus shall boast thy fall!
Fierce to the left he drives, where from the plain
The flying Grecians strove their ships to gain;
Swift thro’ the wall their horse and chariots past, 135
The gates half-open’d to receive the last.
Thither, exulting in his force, he flies;
His foll’wing host with clamours rend the skies:
To plunge the Grecians headlong in the main,
Such their proud hopes, but all their hopes were vain! 140
To guard the gates, two mighty Chiefs attend,
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 90