Complete Works of Homer

Home > Fantasy > Complete Works of Homer > Page 39
Complete Works of Homer Page 39

by Homer


  Then not the noble Lycians stayed, but left their slaughtered lord

  Amongst the corses' common heap; for many more were poured

  About and on him, while J ove's hand held out the bitter broil.

  And now they spoiled Sarpedon's arms, and to the ships the spoil

  "Was sent by Menoetiades. Then Jove thus charged the Sun :

  “Haste, honoured Phoebus, let no more Greek violence be done

  To my Sarpedon, but his corse of all the sable blood

  And javelins purged; then carry him far hence to some clear flood,

  With whose waves wash, and then embalm each thorough cleansed limb

  With our ambrosia; which performed, divine weeds put on him,

  And then to those swift mates and twins, sweet Sleep and Death, commit

  His princely person, that with speed they both may carry it

  To wealthy Lycia, where his friends and brothers will embrace,

  And tomb it in some monument, as fits a prince's place."

  Then flew Apollo to the fight from the Idalian hill,

  At all parts putting into act his great Commander's will;

  Drew all the darts, washed, balmed the corse; which, decked with ornament

  By Sleep and Death, those feathered twins, he into Lycia sent.

  Patroclus then Automedon commands to give his steeds

  Large reins, and all way to the chase, so madly he exceeds

  The strict commission of his friend; which had he kept, had kept

  A black death from him. But Jove's mind hath evermore outstept

  The mind of man, who both affrights and takes the victory

  From any hardiest hand with ease; which he can justify,

  Though he himself commands him fight, as now he put this cbace

  In Menoetiades' mind. How much then weighs the grace,

  Patroclus, that Jove gives thee now, in scoles put with thy death,

  Of all these great and famous men the honourable breath!

  Of which Adrestus first he slew, and next Autonous,

  Epistora, and Perimus, Pylartes, Elasus,

  Swift Menalippus, Molius; all these were overthrown

  By him, and. all else put in rout; and then proud Ilion

  Had stooped beneath his glorious hand, he raged so with his lance,

  If Phoebus had not kept the tow'r and helped the Ilians,

  Sustaining ill thoughts 'gainst the prince. Thrice to the prominence

  Of Troy's steep wall he bravely leaped, thrice Phoebus thrust him thence,

  Objecting his all-dazzling shield with his resistless hand;

  But fourthly, when, like one of heaven, he would have stirred his stand,,

  Apollo threatened him, and said : " Cease, it exceeds thy fate,

  Forward Patroclus, to expugn with thy bold lance this state,

  Nor under great Achilles' pow'rs, to thine superior far,

  Lies Troy's grave ruin." When he spake, Patroclus left that war,

  Leaped far back, and his anger shunned. Hector detained his horse

  Within the Scsean port, in doubt to put his personal force

  Amongst the rout, and turn their heads, or shun in Troy the storm.

  Apollo, seeing his suspense, assumed the goodly form

  Of Hector's uncle, Asius, the Phrygian Dymas' son,

  Who near the deep Sangarius had habitation,

  Being brother to the Trojan queen. His shape Apollo took,

  And asked of Hector, why his spirit so clear the fight forsook?

  Affirming 'twas unfit for him, and wished his forces were

  As much above his, as they moved in an inferior sphere.

  He should, with shame to him, be gone; and so bade drive away

  Against Patroclus, to approve if he that gave them day

  Would give the glory of his death to his preferred lance.

  So left he him and to the fight did his bright head advance,

  Mixed with the multitude, and stirred foul tumult for the foe.

  Then Hector bade Cebriones put on; himself let go

  All other Greeks within his reach, and only gave command

  To front Patroclus. He at him jumped down, his strong left hand -

  A javelin held, his right a stone, a marble sharp and such

  As his large hand had pow'r to gripe, and gave it strength so much

  As he could lie to, nor stood long in fear of that huge man

  That made against him, but full on with his huge stone he ran,

  Discharged, and drave it 'twixt the brows of bold Cebriones.

  Nor could the thick bone there prepared extenuate so th' access,

  But out it drave his broken eyes, which in the dust fell down,

  And he dived after; which conceit of diving took the son

  Of old Mencetius, who thus played upon the other's bane :

  “O heavens! For truth, this Trojan was a passing active man!

  With what exceeding ease he dives, as if at work he were

  Within the fishy seas! This man alone would furnish cheer

  For twenty men, though 'twere a storm, to leap out of a sail

  And gather oysters for them all, he does it here as well.

  And there are many such in Troy." Thus jested he so near

  His own grave death; and then made in to spoil the charioteer,

  With such a lion's force and fate, as, often ruining

  Stalls of fat oxen, gets at length a mortal wound to sting

  His soul out of that ravenous breast that was so insolent,

  And so his life's bliss proves his bane; so deadly confident

  Wert thou, Patroclus, in pursuit of good Cebriones,

  To whose defence now Hector leaped. The opposite address

  These masters of the cry in war now made, was of the kind

  Of two fierce kings of beasts, opposed in strife about a hind

  Slain on the forehead of a hill, both sharp and hungry set,

  And to the currie never came but like two deaths they met;

  Nor these two entertained less mind of mutual prejudice

  About the body, close to which when each had pressed for prize,

  Hector the head laid hand upon, which, once griped, never could

  Be forced from him; Patroclus then upon the feet got hold,

  And he pinched with as sure a nail. So both stood tugging there

  While all the rest made eager fight and grappled everywhere.

  And as the east and south winds strive to make a lofty wood

  Bow to their greatness, barky elms, wild ashes, beeches, bowed

  Even with the earth, in whose thick arms the mighty vapours he,

  And toss by turns, all, either way, their leaves at random fly,

  Boughs murmur, and their bodies crack, and with perpetual din

  The syIvans falter, and the storms are never to begin;

  So raged the fight, and all from Flight plucked her forgotten wings,

  While some still stuck, still new-winged shafts flew dancing from their strings,

  Huge stones sent after that did shake the shields about the corse,

  Who now, in dust's soft forehead stretched, forgat his guiding horse.

  As long as Phoebus turned his wheels about the midst of heaven,

  So long the touch of either's darts the falls of both made even;

  But, when his wain drew near the west, the Greeks past measure were

  The abler soldiers, and so swept the Trojan tumult clear

  From off the body, out of which they drew the hurled-in darts,

  And from his shoulders stripped his arms; and then to more such parts

  Patroclus turned his striving thoughts to do the Trojans ill.

  Thrice, like the God of war, he charged, his voice as horrible,

  And thrice nine those three charges slew; but in the fourth assay,

  O then, Patroclus, showed thy last, the dreadful Sun made way

  Against that onset, y
et the prince discerned no Deity,

  He kept the press so, and, besides, obscured his glorious eye

  With such felt darkness. At his back he made a sudden stand,

  And 'twixt his neck and shoulders laid downright with either hand

  A blow so weighty, that his eyes a giddy darkness took,

  And from his head his three-plumed helm the bounding violence shook,

  That rung beneath his horses' hoofs, and, like a water-spout,

  Was crushed together with the fall; the plumes that set it out,

  All spattered with black blood and dust, when ever heretofore

  It was a capital offence to have or dust or gore

  Defile a triple-feathered helm, but on the head divine

  And youthful temples of their prince it used, untouched, to shine.

  Yet now Jove gave it Hector's hands, the other's death was near.

  Besides whose lost and filed helm his huge long weighty spear,

  Well bound with iron, in his hand was shivered, and his shield

  Fell from his shoulders to his feet, the bawdrick strewing the field;

  His curets left him, like the rest. And all this only done

  By great Apollo. Then his mind took in confusion,

  The vigorous knittings of his joints dissolved, and, thus dismayed,

  A Dardan, one of Panthus' sons, and one that overlaid

  All Trojans of his place with darts, swift footing, skill, and force

  In noble horsemanship, and one that tumbled from their horse,

  One after other, twenty men, and when he did but learn

  The art of war, nay when he first did in the field discern

  A horse and chariot of his guide, this man, with all these parts,

  (His name Euphorbus) comes behind, and 'twixt the shoulders darts

  Forlorn Patroclus, who yet lived, and th' other, getting forth

  His javelin, took him to his strength; nor durst he stand the worth

  Of thee, Patroclus, though disarmed, who yet, discomfited

  By Phoebus' and Euphorbus' wound, the red heap of the dead

  He now too late shunned, and retired. When Hecter saw him yield,

  And knew he yielded with a wound, he scoured the armed field,

  Came close up to him, and both sides struck quite through with his lance.

  He fell, and his most weighty fall gave fit tune to his chance,

  For which all Greece extremely mourned. And as a mighty strife

  About a little fount begins, and rises to the life

  Of some fell boar resolved to drink, when likewise to the spring

  A lion comes alike disposed, the boar thirsts, and his king,

  Both proud, and both will first be served; and then the lion takes

  Advantage of his sovereign strength, and th' other, fainting, makes

  Resign his thirst up with his blood; Patroclus, so enforced

  When he had forced so much brave life, was from his own divorced.

  And thus his great divorcer braved : " Patroclus, thy conceit

  Gave thee th' e version of our Troy, and to thy fleet a freight

  Of Trojan ladies, their free lives put all in bands by thee;

  But, too much prizer of thyself, all these are propped by me,

  For these have my horse stretched their hoofs to this so long a war,

  And I, far best of Troy in arms, keep off from Troy as far,

  Even to the last beam of my life, their necessary day.

  And here, in place of us and ours, on thee shall vultures prey,

  Poor wretch, nor shall thy mighty friend afford thee any aid,

  That gave thy parting miich deep charge, and this perhaps he said :

  ' Martial Patroclus, turn not face, nor see my fleet before

  The curets from great Hector's breast, all gilded with his gore,

  Thou hew'st in pieces.' If thus vain were his far-stretched commands,

  As vain was thy heart to believe his words lay in thy hands."

  He, languishing, replied : " This proves thy glory worse than vain,

  That when two Gods have given thy hands what their pow'rs did obtain,

  (They conquering, and they spoiling me both of my arms and mind,

  It being a work of ease for them) thy soul should be so blind

  To oversee their evident deeds, and take their pow'rs to thee;

  When, if the pow'rs of twenty such had dared t' encounter me,

  My lance had strewed earth with them all. Thou only dost obtain

  A third place in my death, whom, first, a harmful fate hath slain

  Effected by Latona's son, second, and first of men,

  Euphorbus. And this one thing more concerns thee; note it then :

  Thou shalt not long survive thyself; nay, now death calls for thee,

  And violent fate; Achilles' lance shall make this good for me."

  Thus death joined to his words his end; his soul took instant wing,

  And to the house that hath no lights descended, sorrowing

  For his sad fate, to leave, him young, and in his ablest age.

  He dead, yet Hector asked him why, in that prophetic rage,

  He so forespake him, when none knew but great Achilles might

  Prevent his death, and on his lance receive his latest light?

  Thus setting on his side his foot, he.drew out of his wound

  His brazen lance, and upwards cast the body on the ground;

  When quickly, while the dart was hot, he charged Automedon,

  Divine guide of Achilles' steeds, in great contention

  To seize him too; but his so swift and deathless horse, that fetch

  Their gift to Peleus from the Gods, soon rapt him from his reach

  BOOK XVII.

  ARGUMENT.

  A dreadful fight about Patroclus' corse,

  Euphorbus slain by Menelaus' force,

  Sector in th' armour of Aeacides,

  Antilochus relating the decease

  Of slain Patroclus to fair Thetis' son,

  The body from the striving Trojans won,

  Th' Ajaces making good the after field,

  Make all the subject that this book doth yield.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT.

  In Rho the ventrous hosts maintain

  A slaughterous conflict for the slain.

  NOR could his slaughter rest concealed from Menelaus' ear,

  Who flew amongst the foremost fights, and with his targe and spear

  Circled the body, as much grieved, and with as tender heed

  To keep it theirs, as any dam about her first-bom seed,

  Not proving what the pain of birth would make the love before.

  Nor to pursue his first attaint Euphorbus' spirit forbore,

  But, seeing Menelaus chief in rescue of the dead,

  Assayed him thus: " Atrides, cease, and leave the slaughtered

  With his embrued spoil to the man that first of all our state

  And famous succours, in fair fight, made passage to his fate;

  And therefore suffer me to wear the good name I have won

  Amongst the Trojans, lest thy life repay what his hath done."

  “O Jupiter," said he, incensed, " thou art no honest man

  To boast so past thy pow'r to do. Not any lion can,

  Nor spotted leopard, nor boar, whose mind is mightiest

  In pouring fury from his strength, advance so proud a crest

  As Panthus' fighting progeny. But Hyperenor's pride,

  That joyed so little time his youth, when he so vilified

  My force in arms, and called me worst of all our chivalry,

  And stood my worst, might teach ye all to shun this surcuidrie;

  I think he' came not safely home to tell his wife his acts.

  Nor less right of thy insolence my equal fate exacts,

  And will obtain me, if thou stay'st. Retire then, take advice.

  A fool sees nought before 'tis done, and
still too late is wise."

  This moved not him but to the worse, since it renewed the sting

  That his slain brother shot in him, remembered by the king,

  To whom he answered :. " Thou shalt pay for all the pains endured

  By that slain brother, all the wounds sustained for him recured

  With one made in thy heart by me. 'Tis true thou mad'st his wife

  A heavy widow when her joys of wedlock scarce had life,

  And hurt'st our parents with his grief; all which thou gloriest in,

  Forespeaking so thy death, that now their griefs end shall begin.

  To Panthus, and the snowy hand of Phrontes, I will bring

  Those arms, and that proud head of thine. And this laborious thing

  Shall ask no long time to perform. Nor be my words alone,

  But their performance; Strength, and Fight, and Terror thus sets on."

  This said,,he struck his all-round shield; nor shrunk that, but his lance

  That turned head in it. Then the king assayed the second chance,

  First praying to the King of Gods; and his dart entry got

  (The force much driving back his foe) in low part of his throat,

  And ran his neck through. Then fell pride and he, and all with gore

  His locks, that like the Graces were, and which he ever wore

  In gold and silver ribands wrapped, were piteously wet.

  And when alone in some choice place a husbandman hath set

  The young plant of an olive tree, whose root being ever fed

  With plenty of delicious springs, his branches bravely spread,

  And all his fresh and lovely head grown curled with snowy flow'rs,

  That dance and flourish with the winds that are of gentlest pow'rs,

  But when a whirlwind, got aloft, stoops with a sudden gale,

  Tears from his head his tender curls, and tosseth therewithal

  His fixed root from his hollow mines; it well presents the force

  Of Sparta's king, and so the plant Euphorbus and his corse.

  He slain, the king stripped off his arms; and with their worthy prize,

  All fearing him, had clearly past, if heaven's fair Eye of eyes

  Had not, in envy of his acts, to his encounter stirred

  The Mars-like Hector, to whose pow'rs the rescue he preferred

  _ Of those fair arms, and took the shape of Mentas, colonel

  Of all the Cicones that near the Thracian Hebrus dwell.

  Like him, he thus puts forth his voice : " Hector, thou scour'st the field

  In headstrong pursuit of those horse that hardly are compelled

 

‹ Prev