Call’d from afar! now be ye men, my friends, 135
Now summon all the fury of your might!
I go to charge our senators and wives
That they address the Gods with prayers and vows
For our success, and hecatombs devote.
So saying the Hero went, and as he strode 140
The sable hide that lined his bossy shield
Smote on his neck and on his ancle-bone.
And now into the middle space between
Both hosts, the son of Tydeus and the son
Moved of Hippolochus, intent alike 145
On furious combat; face to face they stood,
And thus heroic Diomede began.
Most noble Champion! who of human kind
Art thou, whom in the man-ennobling fight
I now encounter first? Past all thy peers 150
146 I must esteem thee valiant, who hast dared
To meet my coming, and my spear defy.
Ah! they are sons of miserable sires
Who dare my might; but if a God from heaven
Thou come, behold! I fight not with the Gods. 155
That war Lycurgus son of Dryas waged,
And saw not many years. The nurses he
Of brain-disturbing Bacchus down the steep
Pursued of sacred Nyssa; they their wands
Vine-wreathed cast all away, with an ox-goad 160
Chastised by fell Lycurgus. Bacchus plunged
Meantime dismay’d into the deep, where him
Trembling, and at the Hero’s haughty threats
Confounded, Thetis in her bosom hid.
Thus by Lycurgus were the blessed powers 165
Of heaven offended, and Saturnian Jove
Of sight bereaved him, who not long that loss
Survived, for he was curst by all above.
I, therefore, wage no contest with the Gods;
But if thou be of men, and feed on bread 170
Of earthly growth, draw nigh, that with a stroke
Well-aim’d, I may at once cut short thy days.
To whom the illustrious Lycian Chief replied.
Why asks brave Diomede of my descent?
For, as the leaves, such is the race of man. 175
147 The wind shakes down the leaves, the budding grove
Soon teems with others, and in spring they grow.
So pass mankind. One generation meets
Its destined period, and a new succeeds.
But since thou seem’st desirous to be taught 180
My pedigree, whereof no few have heard,
Know that in Argos, in the very lap
Of Argos, for her steed-grazed meadows famed,
Stands Ephyra; there Sisyphus abode,
Shrewdest of human kind; Sisyphus, named 185
Æolides. Himself a son begat,
Glaucus, and he Bellerophon, to whom
The Gods both manly force and beauty gave.
Him Prœtus (for in Argos at that time
Prœtus was sovereign, to whose sceptre Jove 190
Had subjected the land) plotting his death,
Contrived to banish from his native home.
For fair Anteia, wife of Prœtus, mad
Through love of young Bellerophon, him oft
In secret to illicit joys enticed; 195
But she prevail’d not o’er the virtuous mind
Discrete of whom she wooed; therefore a lie
Framing, she royal Prœtus thus bespake.
Die thou, or slay Bellerophon, who sought
Of late to force me to his lewd embrace. 200
So saying, the anger of the King she roused.
Slay him himself he would not, for his heart
Forbad the deed; him therefore he dismiss’d
To Lycia, charged with tales of dire import
Written in tablets, which he bade him show, 205
148 That he might perish, to Anteia’s sire.
To Lycia then, conducted by the Gods,
He went, and on the shores of Xanthus found
Free entertainment noble at the hands
Of Lycia’s potent King. Nine days complete 210
He feasted him, and slew each day an ox.
But when the tenth day’s ruddy morn appear’d,
He asked him then his errand, and to see
Those written tablets from his son-in-law.
The letters seen, he bade him, first, destroy 215
Chimæra, deem’d invincible, divine
In nature, alien from the race of man,
Lion in front, but dragon all behind,
And in the midst a she-goat breathing forth
Profuse the violence of flaming fire. 220
Her, confident in signs from heaven, he slew.
Next, with the men of Solymæ he fought,
Brave warriors far renown’d, with whom he waged,
In his account, the fiercest of his wars.
And lastly, when in battle he had slain 225
The man-resisting Amazons, the king
Another stratagem at his return
Devised against him, placing close-conceal’d
An ambush for him from the bravest chosen
In Lycia; but they saw their homes no more; 230
Bellerophon the valiant slew them all.
The monarch hence collecting, at the last,
His heavenly origin, him there detain’d,
And gave him his own daughter, with the half
Of all his royal dignity and power. 235
The Lycians also, for his proper use,
Large lot assigned him of their richest soil,
149 Commodious for the vine, or for the plow.
And now his consort fair three children bore
To bold Bellerophon; Isandrus one, 240
And one, Hippolochus; his youngest born
Laodamia was for beauty such
That she became a concubine of Jove.
She bore Sarpedon of heroic note.
But when Bellerophon, at last, himself 245
Had anger’d all the Gods, feeding on grief
He roam’d alone the Aleian field, exiled,
By choice, from every cheerful haunt of man.
Mars, thirsty still for blood, his son destroy’d
Isandrus, warring with the host renown’d 250
Of Solymæ; and in her wrath divine
Diana from her chariot golden-rein’d
Laodamia slew. Myself I boast
Sprung from Hippolochus; he sent me forth
To fight for Troy, charging me much and oft 255
That I should outstrip always all mankind
In worth and valor, nor the house disgrace
Of my forefathers, heroes without peer
In Ephyra, and in Lycia’s wide domain.
Such is my lineage; such the blood I boast. 260
He ceased. Then valiant Diomede rejoiced.
He pitch’d his spear, and to the Lycian Prince
In terms of peace and amity replied.
Thou art my own hereditary friend,
Whose noble grandsire was the guest of mine. 265
For Oeneus, on a time, full twenty days
Regaled Bellerophon, and pledges fair
Of hospitality they interchanged.
150 Oeneus a belt radiant with purple gave
To brave Bellerophon, who in return 270
Gave him a golden goblet. Coming forth
I left the kind memorial safe at home.
A child was I when Tydeus went to Thebes,
Where the Achaians perish’d, and of him
Hold no remembrance; but henceforth, my friend, 275
Thine host am I in Argos, and thou mine
In Lycia, should I chance to sojourn there.
We will not clash. Trojans or aids of Troy
No few the Gods shall furnish to my spear,
Whom I may slaughter; and no want of Greeks 280
O
n whom to prove thy prowess, thou shalt find.
But it were well that an exchange ensued
Between us; take mine armor, give me thine,
That all who notice us may understand
Our patrimonial amity and love. 285
So they, and each alighting, hand in hand
Stood lock’d, faith promising and firm accord.
Then Jove of sober judgment so bereft
Infatuate Glaucus that with Tydeus’ son
He barter’d gold for brass, an hundred beeves 290
In value, for the value small of nine.
But Hector at the Scæan gate and beech
Meantime arrived, to whose approach the wives
And daughters flock’d of Troy, inquiring each
The fate of husband, brother, son, or friend. 295
He bade them all with solemn prayer the Gods
Seek fervent, for that wo was on the wing.
But when he enter’d Priam’s palace, built
With splendid porticoes, and which within
Had fifty chambers lined with polish’d stone, 300
Contiguous all, where Priam’s sons reposed
And his sons’ wives, and where, on the other side.
151 In twelve magnificent chambers also lined
With polish’d marble and contiguous all,
The sons-in-law of Priam lay beside 305
His spotless daughters, there the mother queen
Seeking the chamber of Laodice,
Loveliest of all her children, as she went
Met Hector. On his hand she hung and said:
Why leavest thou, O my son! the dangerous field? 310
I fear that the Achaians (hateful name!)
Compass the walls so closely, that thou seek’st
Urged by distress the citadel, to lift
Thine hands in prayer to Jove? But pause awhile
Till I shall bring thee wine, that having pour’d 315
Libation rich to Jove and to the powers
Immortal, thou may’st drink and be refresh’d.
For wine is mighty to renew the strength
Of weary man, and weary thou must be
Thyself, thus long defending us and ours. 320
To whom her son majestic thus replied.
My mother, whom I reverence! cheering wine
Bring none to me, lest I forget my might.
I fear, beside, with unwash’d hands to pour
Libation forth of sable wine to Jove, 325
And dare on none account, thus blood-defiled,
Approach the tempest-stirring God in prayer.
Thou, therefore, gathering all our matrons, seek
The fane of Pallas, huntress of the spoil,
Bearing sweet incense; but from the attire 330
Treasured within thy chamber, first select
152 The amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought,
And which thou prizest most — then spread the gift
On Athenæan Pallas’ lap divine.
Twelve heifers also of the year, untouch’d 335
With puncture of the goad, promise to slay
In sacrifice, if she will pity Troy,
Our wives and little ones, and will avert
The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,
That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host. 340
Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane
Of the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while,
Seek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear,
Shall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn
And swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse 345
To Troy, to Priam, and to all his house;
Methinks, to see him plunged into the shades
For ever, were a cure for all my woes.
He ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged
Her maidens; they, incontinent, throughout 350
All Troy convened the matrons, as she bade.
Meantime into her wardrobe incense-fumed,
Herself descended; there her treasures lay,
Works of Sidonian women, whom her son
The godlike Paris, when he cross’d the seas 355
With Jove-begotten Helen, brought to Troy.
The most magnificent, and varied most
With colors radiant, from the rest she chose
For Pallas; vivid as a star it shone,
And lowest lay of all. Then forth she went, 360
The Trojan matrons all following her steps.
But when the long procession reach’d the fane
Of Pallas in the heights of Troy, to them
The fair Theano ope’d the portals wide,
Daughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor’s spouse, 365
153 And by appointment public, at that time,
Priestess of Pallas. All with lifted hands
In presence of Minerva wept aloud.
Beauteous Theano on the Goddess’ lap
Then spread the robe, and to the daughter fair 370
Of Jove omnipotent her suit address’d.
Goddess of Goddesses, our city’s shield,
Adored Minerva, hear! oh! break the lance
Of Diomede, and give himself to fall
Prone in the dust before the Scæan gate. 375
So will we offer to thee at thy shrine,
This day twelve heifers of the year, untouch’d
By yoke or goad, if thou wilt pity show
To Troy, and save our children and our wives.
Such prayer the priestess offer’d, and such prayer 380
All present; whom Minerva heard averse.
But Hector to the palace sped meantime
Of Alexander, which himself had built,
Aided by every architect of name
Illustrious then in Troy. Chamber it had, 385
Wide hall, proud dome, and on the heights of Troy
Near-neighboring Hector’s house and Priam’s stood.
There enter’d Hector, Jove-beloved, a spear
Its length eleven cubits in his hand,
Its glittering head bound with a ring of gold. 390
He found within his chamber whom he sought,
Polishing with exactest care his arms
Resplendent, shield and hauberk fingering o’er
With curious touch, and tampering with his bow.
Helen of Argos with her female train 395
Sat occupied, the while, to each in turn
Some splendid task assigning. Hector fix’d
His eyes on Paris, and him stern rebuked.
Thy sullen humors, Paris, are ill-timed.
154 The people perish at our lofty walls; 400
The flames of war have compass’d Troy around
And thou hast kindled them; who yet thyself
That slackness show’st which in another seen
Thou would’st resent to death. Haste, seek the field
This moment, lest, the next, all Ilium blaze. 405
To whom thus Paris, graceful as a God.
Since, Hector, thou hast charged me with a fault,
And not unjustly, I will answer make,
And give thou special heed. That here I sit,
The cause is sorrow, which I wish’d to soothe 410
In secret, not displeasure or revenge.
I tell thee also, that even now my wife
Was urgent with me in most soothing terms
That I would forth to battle; and myself,
Aware that victory oft changes sides, 415
That course prefer. Wait, therefore, thou awhile,
‘Till I shall dress me for the fight, or go
Thou first, and I will overtake thee soon.
He ceased, to whom brave Hector answer none
Return’d, when Helen him with lenient speech 420
Accosted mild. My brother! who in me
Hast found a sister worthy of thy hate,
Authoress of all calamity to Tro
y,
Oh that the winds, the day when I was born,
Had swept me out of sight, whirl’d me aloft 425
To some inhospitable mountain-top,
Or plunged me in the deep; there I had sunk
O’erwhelm’d, and all these ills had never been.
But since the Gods would bring these ills to pass,
I should, at least, some worthier mate have chosen, 430
One not insensible to public shame.
But this, oh this, nor hath nor will acquire
Hereafter, aught which like discretion shows
Or reason, and shall find his just reward.
But enter; take this seat; for who as thou 435
Labors, or who hath cause like thee to rue
155 The crime, my brother, for which Heaven hath doom’d
Both Paris and my most detested self
To be the burthens of an endless song?
To whom the warlike Hector huge replied. 440
Me bid not, Helen, to a seat, howe’er
Thou wish my stay, for thou must not prevail.
The Trojans miss me, and myself no less
Am anxious to return. But urge in haste
This loiterer forth; yea, let him urge himself 445
To overtake me ere I quit the town.
For I must home in haste, that I may see
My loved Andromache, my infant boy,
And my domestics, ignorant if e’er
I shall behold them more, or if my fate 450
Ordain me now to fall by Grecian hands.
So spake the dauntless hero, and withdrew.
But reaching soon his own well-built abode
He found not fair Andromache; she stood
Lamenting Hector, with the nurse who bore 455
Her infant, on a turret’s top sublime.
He then, not finding his chaste spouse within,
Thus from the portal, of her train inquired.
Tell me, ye maidens, whither went from home
Andromache the fair? Went she to see 460
Her female kindred of my father’s house,
Or to Minerva’s temple, where convened
The bright-hair’d matrons of the city seek
To soothe the awful Goddess? Tell me true.
To whom his household’s governess discreet. 465
Since, Hector, truth is thy demand, receive
True answer. Neither went she forth to see
156 Her female kindred of thy father’s house,
Nor to Minerva’s temple, where convened
The bright-haired matrons of the city seek 470
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 100