Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Of battle flying, and the clash of spears,

  Came where Achilles and Æneas fought.

  At once with shadows dim he blurr'd the sight

  Of Peleus' son, and from the shield, himself,

  Of brave Æneas the bright-pointed ash

  Retracting, placed it at Achilles' feet.

  Then, lifting high Æneas from the ground,

  He heaved him far remote; o'er many a rank

  Of heroes and of bounding steeds he flew,

  Launch'd into air from the expanded palm

  Of Neptune, and alighted in the rear

  Of all the battle where the Caucons stood.

  Neptune approach'd him there, and at his side

  Standing, in accents wing'd, him thus bespake.

  What God, Æneas! tempted thee to cope

  Thus inconsiderately with the son

  Of Peleus, both more excellent in fight

  Than thou, and more the favorite of the skies?

  From him retire hereafter, or expect

  A premature descent into the shades.

  But when Achilles shall have once fulfill'd

  His destiny, in battle slain, then fight

  Fearless, for thou canst fall by none beside.

  So saying, he left the well-admonish'd Chief,

  And from Achilles' eyes scatter'd the gloom

  Shed o'er them by himself. The hero saw

  Clearly, and with his noble heart incensed

  By disappointment, thus conferring, said.

  Gods! I behold a prodigy. My spear

  Lies at my foot, and he at whom I cast

  The weapon with such deadly force, is gone!

  Æneas therefore, as it seems, himself

  Interests the immortal Gods, although

  I deem'd his boast of their protection vain.

  I reck not. Let him go. So gladly 'scaped

  From slaughter now, he shall not soon again

  Feel an ambition to contend with me.

  Now will I rouse the Danaï, and prove

  The force in fight of many a Trojan more.

  He said, and sprang to battle with loud voice,

  Calling the Grecians after him. — Ye sons

  Of the Achaians! stand not now aloof,

  My noble friends! but foot to foot let each

  Fall on courageous, and desire the fight.

  The task were difficult for me alone,

  Brave as I boast myself, to chase a foe

  So numerous, and to combat with them all.

  Not Mars himself, immortal though he be,

  Nor Pallas, could with all the ranks contend

  Of this vast multitude, and drive the whole.

  With hands, with feet, with spirit and with might,

  All that I can I will; right through I go,

  And not a Trojan who shall chance within

  Spear's reach of me, shall, as I judge, rejoice.

  Thus he the Greeks exhorted. Opposite,

  Meantime, illustrious Hector to his host

  Vociferated, his design to oppose

  Achilles publishing in every ear.

  Fear not, ye valiant men of Troy! fear not

  The son of Peleus. In a war of words

  I could, myself, cope even with the Gods;

  But not with spears; there they excel us all.

  Nor shall Achilles full performance give

  To all his vaunts, but, if he some fulfil,

  Shall others leave mutilate in the midst.

  I will encounter him, though his hands be fire,

  Though fire his hands, and his heart hammer'd steel.

  So spake he them exhorting. At his word

  Uprose the Trojan spears, thick intermixt

  The battle join'd, and clamor loud began.

  Then thus, approaching Hector, Phœbus spake.

  Henceforth, advance not Hector! in the front

  Seeking Achilles, but retired within

  The stormy multitude his coming wait,

  Lest his spear reach thee, or his glittering sword.

  He said, and Hector far into his host

  Withdrew, admonish'd by the voice divine.

  Then, shouting terrible, and clothed with might,

  Achilles sprang to battle. First, he slew

  The valiant Chief Iphition, whom a band

  Numerous obey'd. Otrynteus was his sire.

  Him to Otrynteus, city-waster Chief,

  A Naiad under snowy Tmolus bore

  In fruitful Hyda. Right into his front

  As he advanced, Achilles drove his spear,

  And rived his skull; with thundering sound he fell,

  And thus the conqueror gloried in his fall.

  Ah Otryntides! thou art slain. Here lies

  The terrible in arms, who born beside

  The broad Gygæan lake, where Hyllus flows

  And Hermus, call'd the fertile soil his own.

  Thus gloried he. Meantime the shades of death

  Cover'd Iphition, and Achaian wheels

  And horses ground his body in the van.

  Demoleon next, Antenor's son, a brave

  Defender of the walls of Troy, he slew.

  Into his temples through his brazen casque

  He thrust the Pelian ash, nor could the brass

  Such force resist, but the huge weapon drove

  The shatter'd bone into his inmost brain,

  And his fierce onset at a stroke repress'd.

  Hippodamas his weapon next received

  Within his spine, while with a leap he left

  His steeds and fled. He, panting forth his life,

  Moan'd like a bull, by consecrated youths

  Dragg'd round the Heliconian King, who views

  That victim with delight. So, with loud moans

  The noble warrior sigh'd his soul away.

  Then, spear in hand, against the godlike son

  Of Priam, Polydorus, he advanced.

  Not yet his father had to him indulged

  A warrior's place, for that of all his sons

  He was the youngest-born, his hoary sire's

  Chief darling, and in speed surpass'd them all.

  Then also, in the vanity of youth,

  For show of nimbleness, he started oft

  Into the vanward, till at last he fell.

  Him gliding swiftly by, swifter than he

  Achilles with a javelin reach'd; he struck

  His belt behind him, where the golden clasps

  Met, and the double hauberk interposed.

  The point transpierced his bowels, and sprang through

  His navel; screaming, on his knees he fell,

  Death-shadows dimm'd his eyes, and with both hands,

  Stooping, he press'd his gather'd bowels back.

  But noble Hector, soon as he beheld

  His brother Polydorus to the earth

  Inclined, and with his bowels in his hands,

  Sightless well-nigh with anguish could endure

  No longer to remain aloof; flame-like

  He burst abroad, and shaking his sharp spear,

  Advanced to meet Achilles, whose approach

  Seeing, Achilles bounded with delight,

  And thus, exulting, to himself he said.

  Ah! he approaches, who hath stung my soul

  Deepest, the slayer of whom most I loved!

  Behold, we meet! Caution is at an end,

  And timid skulking in the walks of war.

  He ceased, and with a brow knit into frowns,

  Call'd to illustrious Hector. Haste, approach,

  That I may quick dispatch thee to the shades.

  Whom answer'd warlike Hector, nought appall'd.

  Pelides! hope not, as I were a boy,

  With words to scare me. I have also taunts

  At my command, and can be sharp as thou.

  I know thee valiant, and myself I know

  Inferior far; yet, whether thou shalt slay

&nbs
p; Me, or, inferior as I am, be slain

  By me, is at the pleasure of the Gods,

  For I wield also not a pointless beam.

  He said, and, brandishing it, hurl'd his spear,

  Which Pallas, breathing softly, wafted back

  From the renown'd Achilles, and it fell

  Successless at illustrious Hector's feet.

  Then, all on fire to slay him, with a shout

  That rent the air Achilles rapid flew

  Toward him; but him wrapt in clouds opaque

  Apollo caught with ease divine away.

  Thrice, swift Achilles sprang to the assault

  Impetuous, thrice the pitchy cloud he smote,

  And at his fourth assault, godlike in act,

  And terrible in utterance, thus exclaim'd.

  Dog! thou art safe, and hast escaped again;

  But narrowly, and by the aid once more

  Of Phœbus, without previous suit to whom

  Thou venturest never where the javelin sings.

  But when we next encounter, then expect,

  If one of all in heaven aid also me,

  To close thy proud career. Meantime I seek

  Some other, and assail e'en whom I may.

  So saying, he pierced the neck of Dryops through,

  And at his feet he fell. Him there he left,

  And turning on a valiant warrior huge,

  Philetor's son, Demuchus, in the knee

  Pierced, and detain'd him by the planted spear,

  Till with his sword he smote him, and he died.

  Laogonus and Dardanus he next

  Assaulted, sons of Bias; to the ground

  Dismounting both, one with his spear he slew,

  The other with his falchion at a blow.

  Tros too, Alastor's son — he suppliant clasp'd

  Achilles' knees, and for his pity sued,

  Pleading equality of years, in hope

  That he would spare, and send him thence alive.

  Ah dreamer! ignorant how much in vain

  That suit he urged; for not of milky mind,

  Or placable in temper was the Chief

  To whom he sued, but fiery. With both hands

  His knees he clasp'd importunate, and he

  Fast by the liver gash'd him with his sword.

  His liver falling forth, with sable blood

  His bosom fill'd, and darkness veil'd his eyes.

  Then, drawing close to Mulius, in his ear

  He set the pointed brass, and at a thrust

  Sent it, next moment, through his ear beyond.

  Then, through the forehead of Agenor's son

  Echechlus, his huge-hafted blade he drove,

  And death and fate forever veil'd his eyes.

  Next, where the tendons of the elbow meet,

  Striking Deucalion, through his wrist he urged

  The brazen point; he all defenceless stood,

  Expecting death; down came Achilles' blade

  Full on his neck; away went head and casque

  Together; from his spine the marrow sprang,

  And at his length outstretch'd he press'd the plain.

  From him to Rhigmus, Pireus' noble son,

  He flew, a warrior from the fields of Thrace.

  Him through the loins he pierced, and with the beam

  Fixt in his bowels, to the earth he fell;

  Then piercing, as he turn'd to flight, the spine

  Of Areithöus his charioteer,

  He thrust him from his seat; wild with dismay

  Back flew the fiery coursers at his fall.

  As a devouring fire within the glens

  Of some dry mountain ravages the trees,

  While, blown around, the flames roll to all sides,

  So, on all sides, terrible as a God,

  Achilles drove the death-devoted host

  Of Ilium, and the champain ran with blood.

  As when the peasant his yoked steers employs

  To tread his barley, the broad-fronted pair

  With ponderous hoofs trample it out with ease,

  So, by magnanimous Achilles driven,

  His coursers solid-hoof'd stamp'd as they ran

  The shields, at once, and bodies of the slain;

  Blood spatter'd all his axle, and with blood

  From the horse-hoofs and from the fellied wheels

  His chariot redden'd, while himself, athirst

  For glory, his unconquerable hands

  Defiled with mingled carnage, sweat, and dust.

  * * *

  BOOK XXI.

  * * *

  ARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-FIRST BOOK.

  Achilles having separated the Trojans, and driven one part of them to the city and the other into the Scamander, takes twelve young men alive, his intended victims to the manes of Patroclus. The river overflowing his banks with purpose to overwhelm him, is opposed by Vulcan, and gladly relinquishes the attempt. The battle of the gods ensues. Apollo, in the form of Agenor, decoys Achilles from the town, which in the mean time the Trojans enter and shut the gates against him.

  * * *

  BOOK XXI.

  But when they came, at length, where Xanthus winds

  His stream vortiginous from Jove derived,

  There, separating Ilium's host, he drove

  Part o'er the plain to Troy in the same road

  By which the Grecians had so lately fled

  The fury of illustrious Hector's arm.

  That way they fled pouring themselves along

  Flood-like, and Juno, to retard them, threw

  Darkness as night before them. Other part,

  Push'd down the sides of Xanthus, headlong plunged

  With dashing sound into his dizzy stream,

  And all his banks re-echoed loud the roar.

  They, struggling, shriek'd in silver eddies whirl'd.

  As when, by violence of fire expell'd,

  Locusts uplifted on the wing escape

  To some broad river, swift the sudden blaze

  Pursues them, they, astonish'd, strew the flood,

  So, by Achilles driven, a mingled throng

  Of horses and of warriors overspread

  Xanthus, and glutted all his sounding course

  He, chief of heroes, leaving on the bank

  His spear against a tamarisk reclined,

  Plunged like a God, with falchion arm'd alone

  But fill'd with thoughts of havoc. On all sides

  Down came his edge; groans follow'd dread to hear

  Of warriors smitten by the sword, and all

  The waters as they ran redden'd with blood.

  As smaller fishes, flying the pursuit

  Of some huge dolphin, terrified, the creeks

  And secret hollows of a haven fill,

  For none of all that he can seize he spares,

  So lurk'd the trembling Trojans in the caves

  Of Xanthus' awful flood. But he (his hands

  Wearied at length with slaughter) from the rest

  Twelve youths selected whom to death he doom'd,

  In vengeance for his loved Patroclus slain.

  Them stupified with dread like fawns he drove

  Forth from the river, manacling their hands

  Behind them fast with their own tunic-strings,

  And gave them to his warrior train in charge.

  Then, ardent still for blood, rushing again

  Toward the stream, Dardanian Priam's son

  He met, Lycaon, as he climb'd the bank.

  Him erst by night, in his own father's field

  Finding him, he had led captive away.

  Lycaon was employ'd cutting green shoots

  Of the wild-fig for chariot-rings, when lo!

  Terrible, unforeseen, Achilles came.

  He seized and sent him in a ship afar

  To Lemnos; there the son of Jason paid

  His price, and, at great cost, Eëtion

  The guest of Jason, the
nce redeeming him,

  Sent him to fair Arisba; but he 'scaped

  Thence also and regain'd his father's house.

  Eleven days, at his return, he gave

  To recreation joyous with his friends,

  And on the twelfth his fate cast him again

  Into Achilles' hands, who to the shades

  Now doom'd him, howsoever loth to go.

  Soon as Achilles swiftest of the swift

  Him naked saw (for neither spear had he

  Nor shield nor helmet, but, when he emerged,

  Weary and faint had cast them all away)

  Indignant to his mighty self he said.

  Gods! I behold a miracle! Ere long

  The valiant Trojans whom my self have slain

  Shall rise from Erebus, for he is here,

  The self-same warrior whom I lately sold

  At Lemnos, free, and in the field again.

  The hoary deep is prison strong enough

  For most, but not for him. Now shall he taste

  The point of this my spear, that I may learn

  By sure experience, whether hell itself

  That holds the strongest fast, can him detain,

  Or whether he shall thence also escape.

  While musing thus he stood, stunn'd with dismay

  The youth approach'd, eager to clasp his knees,

  For vehement he felt the dread of death

  Working within him; with his Pelian ash

  Uplifted high noble Achilles stood

  Ardent to smite him; he with body bent

  Ran under it, and to his knees adhered;

  The weapon, missing him, implanted stood

  Close at his back, when, seizing with one hand

  Achilles' knees, he with the other grasp'd

  The dreadful beam, resolute through despair,

  And in wing'd accents suppliant thus began.

  Oh spare me! pity me! Behold I clasp

  Thy knees, Achilles! Ah, illustrious Chief!

  Reject not with disdain a suppliant's prayer.

  I am thy guest also, who at thy own board

  Have eaten bread, and did partake the gift

  Of Ceres with thee on the very day

  When thou didst send me in yon field surprised

  For sale to sacred Lemnos, far remote,

  And for my price receiv'dst a hundred beeves.

  Loose me, and I will yield thee now that sum

  Thrice told. Alas! this morn is but the twelfth

  Since, after numerous hardships, I arrived

  Once more in Troy, and now my ruthless lot

  Hath given me into thy hands again.

  Jove cannot less than hate me, who hath twice

  Made me thy prisoner, and my doom was death,

  Death in my prime, the day when I was born