by Homer
His course, obedient to thy will and mine;
And if in all sincerity thou speak,
Go to th' assembled Gods, and hither send
Iris, and Phoebus of the silver bow;
That she may to the Grecian camp repair,
And bid that Neptune from the battle-field
Withdraw, and to his own domain retire;
While Phoebus Hector to the fight restores,
Inspiring new-born vigour, and allaying
The mortal pains which bow his spirit down:
Then, heartless fear infusing in the Greeks,
Put them to flight, that flying they may fall
Beside Achilles' ships; his comrade then,
Patroclus, he shall send to battle forth
To be by Hector slain, in front of Troy;
Yet not to fall till many valiant youths
Have felt his prowess; and, amid the rest,
My son, Sarpedon; by his comrade's death
Enrag'd, Achilles Hector shall subdue;
Thenceforth my counsel is, that from the ships
The Trojan force shall still be backward driv'n,
Until at length, by Pallas' deep designs,
The Greeks possess the lofty walls of Troy.
Yet will not I my anger intermit,
Nor suffer other of th' immortal Gods
To aid the Greeks, till Peleus' son behold
His wish accomplish'd, and the boon obtain'd
I promis'd once, and with a nod confirm'd,
That day when sea-born Thetis clasp'd my knees,
And pray'd me to avenge her warrior son."
Thus he; the white-arm'd Queen of Heav'n submiss
His mandate heard; and from th' Idaean mount
With rapid flight to high Olympus sped.
Swift as the mind of man, who many a land
Hath travell'd o'er, and with reflective thought
Recalls, "here was I such a day, or here,"
And in a moment many a scene surveys;
So Juno sped o'er intervening space;
Olympus' heights she reach'd, and in the house
Of Jove appear'd amid th' assembled Gods.
They at her coming rose, with golden cups
Greeting their Queen's approach; the rest she pass'd,
And from the hand of fair-fac'd Themis took
The proffer'd cup, who first had run to meet,
And thus with winged words address'd the Queen:
"Juno, why com'st thou hither? and with looks
Of one distraught with, fear? hath Saturn's son,
Thy mighty Lord, thus sore affrighted thee?"
To whom the white-arm'd Goddess, Juno, thus:
"Forbear thy questions, Themis; well thou know'st
How haughty and imperious is his mind;
Thou for the Gods in haste prepare the feast;
Then shalt thou learn, amid th' Immortals all,
What evil he designs; nor all, I ween,
His counsels will approve, or men, or Gods,
Though now in blissful ignorance they feast."
She said, and sat; the Gods, oppress'd with care,
Her farther speech awaited; on her lips
There dwelt indeed a smile, but not a ray
Pass'd o'er her dark'ning brow, as thus her wrath
Amid th' assembled Gods found vent in words:
"Fools are we all, who madly strive with Jove,
Or hope, by access to his throne, to sway,
By word or deed, his course; from all apart,
He all our counsels heeds not, but derides;
And boasts o'er all th' immortal Gods to reign
In unapproach'd pre-eminence of pow'r.
Prepare then each his sev'ral woe to bear;
On Mars e'en now, methinks, the blow hath fall'n;
Since in the fight, the man he loves the best,
And boasts his son, Ascalaphus, is slain."
She said; and Mars, enrag'd, his brawny thigh
Smote with his hands, and thus, lamenting, spoke:
"Blame not, ye Gods, who on Olympus dwell,
That to the Grecian ships I haste, to avenge
My slaughter'd son, though blasted by Heav'n's fire
'Twere mine 'mid corpses, blood, and dust to lie."
He said, and gave command to Fear and Flight
To yoke his ear; and donn'd his glitt'ring arms.
Then from the throne of Jove had heavier wrath
And deeper vengeance on th' Immortals fall'n,
But Pallas, in alarm for all the Gods,
Quitting in haste the throne whereon she sat,
Sprang past the vestibule, and from his head
The helmet lifted, from his arm the shield;
Took from his sturdy hand, and rear'd upright,
The brazen spear; then with reproachful words
She thus assail'd th' impetuous God of War;
"Frantic, and passion-maddened, thou art lost!
Hast thou no ears to hear! or are thy mind
And sense of rev'rence utterly destroyed?
Or heard'st thou not what white-arm'd Juno spoke,
Fresh from the presence of Olympian Jove?
Wouldst thou, thine evil destiny fulfill'd,
By hard constraint, despite thy grief, be driv'n
Back to Olympus; and to all the rest
Confusion and disaster with thee bring?
At once from valiant Trojans and from Greeks
His thoughts would be diverted, and his wrath
Embroil Olympus, and on all alike,
Guilty or not, his anger would be pour'd.
Waive then thy vengeance for thy gallant son;
Others as brave of heart, as strong of arm,
Have fall'n, and yet must fall; and vain th' attempt
To watch at once o'er all the race of men."
Thus saying, to his seat again she forc'd
Th' impetuous Mars: meanwhile, without the house,
Juno, by Jove's command, Apollo call'd,
And Iris, messenger from God to God;
And thus to both her winged words address'd:
"Jove bids you with all speed to Ida haste;
And when, arriv'd, before his face ye stand,
Whate'er he orders, that observe and do."
Thus Juno spoke, and to her throne return'd;
While they to spring-abounding Ida's heights,
Wild nurse of forest beasts, pursued their way;
Th' all-seeing son of Saturn there they found
Upon the topmost crag of Gargarus,
An incense-breathing cloud around him spread.
Before the face of cloud-compelling Jove
They stood; well-pleas'd he witness'd their approach
In swift obedience to his consort's words,
And thus to Iris first his speech address'd:
"Haste thee, swift Iris, and to Ocean's King
My message bear, nor misreporting aught,
Nor aught omitting; from the battle-field
Bid him retire, and join th' assembled Gods,
Or to his own domain of sea withdraw.
If my commands he heed not, nor obey,
Let him consider in his inmost soul
If, mighty though he be, he dare await
My hostile coming; mightier far than him,
His elder born; nor may his spirit aspire
To rival me, whom all regard with awe."
He said; swift-footed Iris, at the word,
From Ida's heights to sacred Ilium sped.
Swift as the snow-flakes from the clouds descend,
Or wintry hail before the driving blast
Of Boreas, ether-born; so swift to Earth
Descended Iris; by his side she stood,
And with these words th' Earth-shaking God address'd:
"A message, dark-hair'd Circler of the Earth,
To thee I bring from AEgis-bearing Jove.
&
nbsp; He bids thee straightway from the battle-field
Retire, and either join th' assembled Gods,
Or to thine own domain of sea withdraw.
If his commands thou heed not, nor obey,
Hither he menaces himself to come,
And fight against thee; but he warns thee first,
Beware his arm, as mightier far than thee,
Thine elder born; nor may thy spirit aspire
To rival him, whom all regard with awe."
To whom in tow'ring wrath th' Earth-shaking God:
"By Heav'n, though great he be, he yet presumes
Somewhat too far, if me, his equal born,
He seeks by force to baffle of my will.
We were three brethren, all of Rhaea born
To Saturn; Jove and I, and Pluto third,
Who o'er the nether regions holds his sway.
Threefold was our partition; each obtain'd
His meed of honour due; the hoary Sea
By lot my habitation was assign'd;
The realms of Darkness fell to Pluto's share;
Broad Heav'n, amid the sky and clouds, to Jove;
But Earth, and high Olympus, are to all
A common heritage; nor will I walk
To please the will of Jove; though great he be,
With his own third contented let him rest:
Nor let him think that I, as wholly vile,
Shall quail before his arm; his lofty words
Were better to his daughters and his sons
Address'd, his own begotten; who perforce
Must listen to his mandates, and obey."
To whom swift-footed Iris thus replied:
"Is this, then, dark-hair'd Circler of the Earth,
The message, stern and haughty, which to Jove
Thou bidd'st me bear? perchance thine angry mood
May bend to better counsels; noblest minds
Are easiest bent; and o'er superior age
Thou know'st th' avenging Furies ever watch."
To whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied:
"Immortal Iris, weighty are thy words,
And in good season spoken; and 'tis well
When envoys are by sound discretion led.
Yet are my heart and mind with grief oppress'd,
When me, his equal both by birth and fate,
He seeks with haughty words to overbear.
I yield, but with indignant sense of wrong.
This too I say, nor shall my threat be vain:
Let him remember, if in my despite,
'Gainst Pallas', Juno's, Hermes', Vulcan's will,
He spare to overthrow proud Ilium's tow'rs,
And crown with victory the Grecian arms,
The feud between us never can be heal'd."
Th' Earth-shaker said, and from the field withdrew
Beneath the ocean wave, the warrior Greeks
His loss deploring; to Apollo then
The Cloud-compeller thus his speech address'd:
"Go straight to Hector of the brazen helm,
Good Phoebus; for beneath the ocean wave
Th' Earth-shaker hath withdrawn, escaping thus
My high displeasure; had he dar'd resist,
The tumult of our strife had reach'd the Gods
Who in the nether realms with Saturn dwell.
Yet thus 'tis better, both for me and him,
That, though indignant, to my will he yields;
For to compel him were no easy task.
Take thou, and wave on high thy tassell'd shield,
The Grecian warriors daunting: thou thyself,
Far-darting King, thy special care bestow
On noble Hector; so restore his strength
And vigour, that in panic to their ships,
And the broad Hellespont, the Greeks be driv'n.
Then will I so by word and deed contrive
That they may gain fresh respite from their toil."
He said, nor did Apollo not obey
His Sire's commands; from Ida's heights he flew,
Like to a falcon, swooping on a dove,
Swiftest of birds; then Priam's son he found,
The godlike Hector, stretch'd at length no more,
But sitting, now to consciousness restor'd,
With recognition looking on his friends;
The cold sweat dried, nor gasping now for breath,
Since by the will of AEgis-bearing Jove
To life new waken'd; close beside him stood
The Far-destroyer, and address'd him thus:
"Hector, thou son of Priam, why apart
From all thy comrades art thou sitting here,
Feeble and faint? What trouble weighs thee down?"
To whom thus Hector of the glancing helm
With falt'ring voice: "Who art thou, Prince of Gods,
Who thus enquirest of me? know'st thou not
How a huge stone, by mighty Ajax hurl'd,
As on his comrades by the Grecian ships
I dealt destruction, struck me on the breast,
Dash'd to the earth, and all my vigour quell'd?
I deem'd in sooth this day my soul, expir'd,
Should see the dead, and Pluto's shadowy realm."
To whom again the far-destroying King:
"Be of good cheer; from Saturn's son I come
From Ida's height to be thy guide and guard;
Phoebus Apollo, of the golden sword,
I, who of old have thy protector been,
Thee and thy city guarding. Rise then straight;
Summon thy num'rous horsemen; bid them drive
Their flying cars to assail the Grecian ships:
I go before: and will thy horses' way
Make plain and smooth, and daunt the warrior Greeks."
His words fresh vigour in the chief infus'd.
As some proud steed, at well-fill'd manger fed,
His halter broken, neighing, scours the plain,
And revels in the widely-flowing stream
To bathe his sides; then tossing high his head,
While o'er his shoulders streams his ample mane,
Light-borne on active limbs, in conscious pride,
To the wide pastures of the mares he flies;
So vig'rous, Hector plied his active limbs,
His horsemen summoning at Heav'n's command.
As when a rustic crowd of men and dogs
Have chas'd an antler'd stag, or mountain goat,
That 'mid the crags and thick o'ershadowing wood
Hath refuge found, and baffled their pursuit:
If, by the tumult rous'd, a lion stand,
With bristling mane, before them, back they turn,
Check'd in their mid career; ev'n so the Greeks,
Who late in eager throngs were pressing on,
Thrusting with swords and double-pointed spears,
When Hector moving through the ranks they saw,
Recoil'd, and to their feet their courage fell.
To whom thus Thoas spoke, Andraemon's son,
AEtolia's bravest warrior, skill'd to throw
The jav'lin, dauntless in the stubborn fight;
By few surpass'd in speech, when in debate
In full assembly Grecian youths contend.
He thus with prudent speech began, and said:
"Great is the marvel which our eyes behold,
That Hector see again to life restor'd,
Escap'd the death we hop'd him to have met
Beneath the hands of Ajax Telamon.
Some God hath been his guard, and Hector sav'd,
Whose arm hath slack'd the knees of many a Greek:
So will he now; for not without the aid
Of Jove, the Lord of thunder, doth he stand
So boldly forth, so eager for the fight.
Hear, then, and all by my advice be rul'd:
Back to the ships dismiss the gen'ral crowd;
While of our
army we, the foremost men,
Stand fast, and meeting him with levell'd spears,
Hold him in check; and he, though brave, may fear
To throw himself amid our serried ranks."
He said: they heard, and all obey'd his words:
The mighty Ajax, and Idomeneus
The King, and Teucer, and Meriones,
And Meges, bold as Mars, with all their best,
Their stedfast battle rang'd, to wait th' assault
Of Hector and his Trojans; while behind,
Th' unwarlike many to the ships retir'd.
The Trojan mass came on, by Hector led
With haughty stride; before him Phoebus went,
His shoulders veil'd in cloud; his arm sustain'd
The awful AEgis, dread to look on, hung
With shaggy tassels round and dazzling bright;
Which Vulcan, skilful workman, gave to Jove,
To scatter terror 'mid the souls of men.
This on his arm, the Trojan troops he led.
Firm stood the mass of Greeks; from either side
Shrill clamours rose; and fast from many a string
The arrows flew, and many a jav'lin, hurl'd
By vig'rous arms; some buried in the flesh
Of stalwart youths, and many, ere they reach'd
Their living mark, fell midway on the plain,
Fix'd in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.
While Phoebus motionless his AEgis held,
Thick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell
On either side; but when he turn'd its flash
Full in the faces of the astonish'd Greeks,
And shouted loud, their spirits within them quail'd,
Their fiery courage borne in mind no more.
As when two beasts of prey, at dead of night.
With sudden onset scatter wide a herd
Of oxen, or a num'rous flock of sheep,
Their keepers absent; so unnerv'd by fear
The Greeks dispers'd; such panic 'mid their ranks,
That vict'ry so might crown the Trojan arms,
Apollo sent; and as the masses broke,
Each Trojan slew his man; by Hector's hand
Fell Stichius and Arcesilas; the one,
The leader of Boeotia's brass-clad host,
The other, brave Menestheus' trusted friend.
AEneas Medon slew, and Iasus;
Medon, the great Oileus' bastard son,
Brother of Ajax; he in Phylace,
Far from his native home, was driv'n to dwell;
Since one to Eriopis near akin,
His sire Oileus' wife, his hand had slain:
And Iasus, th' Athenian chief, was deem'd
The son of Sphelus, son of Bucolus.
Polydamas amid the foremost ranks
Mecistes slew, Polites Echius,
Agenor Olonius; while from Paris' hand
An arrow, 'mid the crowd of fugitives
Shot from behind, beneath the shoulder struck
