Me much Lycaon my old valiant sire 230
At my departure from his palace gates
Persuaded, that my chariot and my steeds
Ascending, I should so conduct my bands
To battle; counsel wise, and ill-refused!
But anxious, lest (the host in Troy so long 235
Immew’d) my steeds, fed plenteously at home,
Should here want food, I left them, and on foot
To Ilium came, confiding in my bow
Ordain’d at last to yield me little good.
Twice have I shot, and twice I struck the mark, 240
First Menelaus, and Tydides next;
From each I drew the blood, true, genuine blood,
Yet have but more incensed them. In an hour
Unfortunate, I therefore took my bow
Down from the wall that day, when for the sake 245
Of noble Hector, to these pleasant plains
I came, a leader on the part of Troy.
But should I once return, and with these eyes
Again behold my native land, my sire,
My wife, my stately mansion, may the hand, 250
That moment, of some adversary there
Shorten me by the head, if I not snap
This bow with which I charged myself in vain,
And burn the unprofitable tool to dust.
To whom Æneas, Trojan Chief, replied. 255
Nay, speak not so. For ere that hour arrive
115 We will, with chariot and with horse, in arms
Encounter him, and put his strength to proof.
Delay not, mount my chariot. Thou shalt see
With what rapidity the steeds of Troy 260
Pursuing or retreating, scour the field.
If after all, Jove purpose still to exalt
The son of Tydeus, these shall bear us safe
Back to the city. Come then. Let us on.
The lash take thou, and the resplendent reins, 265
While I alight for battle, or thyself
Receive them, and the steeds shall be my care.
Him answer’d then Lycaon’s son renown’d.
Æneas! manage thou the reins, and guide
Thy proper steeds. If fly at last we must 270
The son of Tydeus, they will readier draw
Directed by their wonted charioteer.
Else, terrified, and missing thy control,
They may refuse to bear us from the fight,
And Tydeus’ son assailing us, with ease 275
Shall slay us both, and drive thy steeds away.
Rule therefore thou the chariot, and myself
With my sharp spear will his assault receive.
So saying, they mounted both, and furious drove
Against Tydides. Them the noble son 280
Of Capaneus observed, and turning quick
His speech to Diomede, him thus address’d.
Tydides, Diomede, my heart’s delight!
Two warriors of immeasurable force
In battle, ardent to contend with thee, 285
Come rattling on. Lycaon’s offspring one,
Bow-practised Pandarus; with whom appears
Æneas; he who calls the mighty Chief
Anchises father, and whom Venus bore.
Mount — drive we swift away — lest borne so far 290
Beyond the foremost battle, thou be slain.
To whom, dark-frowning, Diomede replied
Speak not of flight to me, who am disposed
To no such course. I am ashamed to fly
116 Or tremble, and my strength is still entire; 295
I cannot mount. No. Rather thus, on foot,
I will advance against them. Fear and dread
Are not for me; Pallas forbids the thought.
One falls, be sure; swift as they are, the steeds
That whirl them on, shall never rescue both. 300
But hear my bidding, and hold fast the word.
Should all-wise Pallas grant me my desire
To slay them both, drive not my coursers hence,
But hook the reins, and seizing quick the pair
That draw Æneas, urge them from the powers 305
Of Troy away into the host of Greece.
For they are sprung from those which Jove to Tros
In compensation gave for Ganymede;
The Sun himself sees not their like below.
Anchises, King of men, clandestine them 310
Obtain’d, his mares submitting to the steeds
Of King Laomedon. Six brought him foals;
Four to himself reserving, in his stalls
He fed them sleek, and two he gave his son:
These, might we win them, were a noble prize. 315
Thus mutual they conferr’d; those Chiefs, the while,
With swiftest pace approach’d, and first his speech
To Diomede Lycaon’s son address’d.
Heroic offspring of a noble sire,
Brave son of Tydeus! false to my intent 320
My shaft hath harm’d thee little. I will now
Make trial with my spear, if that may speed.
He said, and shaking his long-shadow’d spear,
Dismiss’d it. Forceful on the shield it struck
Of Diomede, transpierced it, and approach’d 325
With threatening point the hauberk on his breast.
Loud shouted Pandarus — Ah nobly thrown!
Home to thy bowels. Die, for die thou must,
And all the glory of thy death is mine.
Then answer thus brave Diomede return’d 330
Undaunted. I am whole. Thy cast was short.
But ye desist not, as I plain perceive,
117 Till one at least extended on the plain
Shall sate the God of battles with his blood.
He said and threw. Pallas the spear herself 335
Directed; at his eye fast by the nose
Deep-entering, through his ivory teeth it pass’d,
At its extremity divided sheer
His tongue, and started through his chin below.
He headlong fell, and with his dazzling arms 340
Smote full the plain. Back flew the fiery steeds
With swift recoil, and where he fell he died.
Then sprang Æneas forth with spear and shield,
That none might drag the body; lion-like
He stalk’d around it, oval shield and spear 345
Advancing firm, and with incessant cries
Terrific, death denouncing on his foes.
But Diomede with hollow grasp a stone
Enormous seized, a weight to overtask
Two strongest men of such as now are strong, 350
Yet he, alone, wielded the rock with ease.
Full on the hip he smote him, where the thigh
Rolls in its cavity, the socket named.
He crushed the socket, lacerated wide
Both tendons, and with that rough-angled mass 355
Flay’d all his flesh, The Hero on his knees
Sank, on his ample palm his weight upbore
Laboring, and darkness overspread his eyes.
There had Æneas perish’d, King of men,
Had not Jove’s daughter Venus quick perceived 360
His peril imminent, whom she had borne
Herself to Anchises pasturing his herds.
Her snowy arras her darling son around
She threw maternal, and behind a fold
Of her bright mantle screening close his breast 365
From mortal harm by some brave Grecian’s spear,
118 Stole him with eager swiftness from the fight.
Nor then forgat brave Sthenelus his charge
Received from Diomede, but his own steeds
Detaining distant from the boisterous war, 370
Stretch’d tight the reins, and hook’d them fast behind.
The coursers of Æneas next he seized
Ardent, and them into the host of Greece
Driving remote, consign’d them to his care,
Whom far above all others his compeers 375
He loved, Deipylus, his bosom friend
Congenial. Him he charged to drive them thence
Into the fleet, then, mounting swift his own,
Lash’d after Diomede; he, fierce in arms,
Pursued the Cyprian Goddess, conscious whom, 380
Not Pallas, not Enyo, waster dread
Of cities close-beleaguer’d, none of all
Who o’er the battle’s bloody course preside,
But one of softer kind and prone to fear.
When, therefore, her at length, after long chase 385
Through all the warring multitude he reach’d,
With his protruded spear her gentle hand
He wounded, piercing through her thin attire
Ambrosial, by themselves the graces wrought,
Her inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm. 390
Blood follow’d, but immortal; ichor pure,
Such as the blest inhabitants of heaven
May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not
Man’s food, nor slake as he with sable wine
Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt. 395
She, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son,
And Phœbus, in impenetrable clouds
Him hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek
Should pierce his bosom, caught him swift away.
Then shouted brave Tydides after her — 400
Depart, Jove’s daughter! fly the bloody field.
Is’t not enough that thou beguilest the hearts
Of feeble women? If thou dare intrude
Again into the war, war’s very name
119 Shall make thee shudder, wheresoever heard. 405
He said, and Venus with excess of pain
Bewilder’d went; but Iris tempest-wing’d
Forth led her through the multitude, oppress’d
With anguish, her white wrist to livid changed.
They came where Mars far on the left retired 410
Of battle sat, his horses and his spear
In darkness veil’d. Before her brother’s knees
She fell, and with entreaties urgent sought
The succor of his coursers golden-rein’d.
Save me, my brother! Pity me! Thy steeds 415
Give me, that they may bear me to the heights
Olympian, seat of the immortal Gods!
Oh! I am wounded deep; a mortal man
Hath done it, Diomede; nor would he fear
This day in fight the Sire himself of all. 420
Then Mars his coursers gold-caparison’d
Resign’d to Venus; she, with countenance sad,
The chariot climb’d, and Iris at her side
The bright reins seizing lash’d the ready steeds.
Soon as the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, 425
They reach’d, wing-footed Iris loosing quick
The coursers, gave them large whereon to browse
Ambrosial food; but Venus on the knees
Sank of Dione, who with folded arms
Maternal, to her bosom straining close 430
Her daughter, stroked her cheek, and thus inquired.
My darling child! who? which of all the Gods
Hath rashly done such violence to thee
As if convicted of some open wrong?
Her then the Goddess of love-kindling smiles 435
Venus thus answer’d; Diomede the proud,
Audacious Diomede; he gave the wound,
For that I stole Æneas from the fight
My son of all mankind my most beloved;
Nor is it now the war of Greece with Troy, 440
But of the Grecians with the Gods themselves.
Then thus Dione, Goddess all divine.
120 My child! how hard soe’er thy sufferings seem
Endure them patiently. Full many a wrong
From human hands profane the Gods endure, 445
And many a painful stroke, mankind from ours.
Mars once endured much wrong, when on a time
Him Otus bound and Ephialtes fast,
Sons of Alöeus, and full thirteen moons
In brazen thraldom held him. There, at length, 450
The fierce blood-nourished Mars had pined away,
But that Eëribœa, loveliest nymph,
His step-mother, in happy hour disclosed
To Mercury the story of his wrongs;
He stole the prisoner forth, but with his woes 455
Already worn, languid and fetter-gall’d.
Nor Juno less endured, when erst the bold
Son of Amphytrion with tridental shaft
Her bosom pierced; she then the misery felt
Of irremediable pain severe. 460
Nor suffer’d Pluto less, of all the Gods
Gigantic most, by the same son of Jove
Alcides, at the portals of the dead
Transfix’d and fill’d with anguish; he the house
Of Jove and the Olympian summit sought 465
Dejected, torture-stung, for sore the shaft
Oppress’d him, into his huge shoulder driven.
But Pæon him not liable to death
With unction smooth of salutiferous balms
Heal’d soon. Presumptuous, sacrilegious man! 470
Careless what dire enormities he wrought,
Who bent his bow against the powers of heaven!
But blue-eyed Pallas instigated him
By whom thou bleed’st. Infatuate! he forgets
That whoso turns against the Gods his arm 475
Lives never long; he never, safe escaped
From furious fight, the lisp’d caresses hears
121 Of his own infants prattling at his knees.
Let therefore Diomede beware, lest strong
And valiant as he is, he chance to meet 490
Some mightier foe than thou, and lest his wife,
Daughter of King Adrastus, the discrete
Ægialea, from portentous dreams
Upstarting, call her family to wail
Her first-espoused, Achaia’s proudest boast, 485
Diomede, whom she must behold no more.
She said, and from her wrist with both hands wiped
The trickling ichor; the effectual touch
Divine chased all her pains, and she was heal’d.
Them Juno mark’d and Pallas, and with speech 490
Sarcastic pointed at Saturnian Jove
To vex him, blue-eyed Pallas thus began.
Eternal father! may I speak my thought,
And not incense thee, Jove? I can but judge
That Venus, while she coax’d some Grecian fair 495
To accompany the Trojans whom she loves
With such extravagance, hath heedless stroked
Her golden clasps, and scratch’d her lily hand.
So she; then smiled the sire of Gods and men,
And calling golden Venus, her bespake. 500
War and the tented field, my beauteous child,
Are not for thee. Thou rather shouldst be found
In scenes of matrimonial bliss. The toils
Of war to Pallas and to Mars belong.
Thus they in heaven. But Diomede the while 505
Sprang on Æneas, conscious of the God
Whose hand o’ershadow’d him, yet even him
Regarding lightly; for he burn’d to slay
Æneas, and to seize his glorious arms.
Thrice then he sprang impetuous to the deed, 510
And thrice Apollo with his radiant shield
Repulsed him. But when ardent as a God
The fourth time he advanced, with thundering-voice
Him thus the Archer of the skies rebuked.
Think, and retire, Tydides! nor affect 515
122 Equality with Gods; for not the same
Our nature is and theirs who tread the ground.
He spake, and Diomede a step retired,
Not more; the anger of the Archer-God
Declining slow, and with a sullen awe. 520
Then Phœbus, far from all the warrior throng
To his own shrine the sacred dome beneath
Of Pergamus, Æneas bore; there him
Latona and shaft-arm’d Diana heal’d
And glorified within their spacious fane. 525
Meantime the Archer of the silver bow
A visionary form prepared; it seem’d
Himself Æneas, and was arm’d as he.
At once, in contest for that airy form,
Grecians and Trojans on each other’s breasts 530
The bull-hide buckler batter’d and light targe.
Then thus Apollo to the warrior God.
Gore-tainted homicide, town-batterer Mars!
Wilt thou not meet and from the fight withdraw
This man Tydides, now so fiery grown 535
That he would even cope with Jove himself?
First Venus’ hand he wounded, and assail’d
Impetuous as a God, next, even me.
He ceased, and on the topmost turret sat
Of Pergamus. Then all-destroyer Mars 540
Ranging the Trojan host, rank after rank
Exhorted loud, and in the form assumed
Of Acamas the Thracian leader bold,
The godlike sons of Priam thus harangued.
Ye sons of Priam, monarch Jove-beloved! 545
How long permit ye your Achaian foes
To slay the people? — till the battle rage
(Push’d home to Ilium) at her solid gates?
Behold — a Chief disabled lies, than whom
We reverence not even Hector more, 550
Æneas; fly, save from the roaring storm
The noble Anchisiades your friend.
He said; then every heart for battle glow’d;
123 And thus Sarpedon with rebuke severe
Upbraiding generous Hector, stern began. 555
Where is thy courage, Hector? for thou once
Hadst courage. Is it fled? In other days
Thy boast hath been that without native troops
Or foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself
Alone, were guard sufficient for the town. 560
But none of all thy kindred now appears;
I can discover none; they stand aloof
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 97