Delphi Complete Works of Quintus Smyrnaeus

by Quintus Smyrnaeus

  On leapt the ship; a watery way was cleft

  About the oars that sweating rowers tugged.

  As when hard-toiling oxen, ‘neath the yoke

  Straining, drag on a massy-timbered wain,

  While creaks the circling axle ‘neath its load,

  And from their weary necks and shoulders streams 120

  Down to the ground the sweat abundantly;

  So at the stiff oars toiled those stalwart men,

  And fast they laid behind them leagues of sea.

  Gazed after them the Achaeans as they went,

  Then turned to whet their deadly darts and spears,

  The weapons of their warfare. In their town

  The aweless Trojans armed themselves the while

  War-eager, praying to the Gods to grant

  Respite from slaughter, breathing-space from toil.

  To these, while sorely thus they yearned, the Gods 130

  Brought present help in trouble, even the seed

  Of mighty Hercules, Eurypylus.

  A great host followed him, in battle skilled,

  All that by long Caicus’ outflow dwelt,

  Full of triumphant trust in their strong spears.

  Round them rejoicing thronged the sons of Troy:

  As when tame geese within a pen gaze up

  On him who casts them corn, and round his feet

  Throng hissing uncouth love, and his heart warms

  As he looks down on them; so thronged the sons 140

  Of Troy, as on fierce-heart Eurypylus

  They gazed; and gladdened was his aweless soul

  To see those throngs: from porchways women looked

  Wide-eyed with wonder on the godlike man.

  Above all men he towered as on he strode,

  As looks a lion when amid the hills

  He comes on jackals. Paris welcomed him,

  As Hector honouring him, his cousin he,

  Being of one blood with him, who was born Of

  Astyoche, King Priam’s sister fair 150

  Whom Telephus embraced in his strong arms,

  Telephus, whom to aweless Hercules

  Auge the bright-haired bare in secret love.

  That babe, a suckling craving for the breast,

  A swift hind fostered, giving him the teat

  As to her own fawn in all love; for Zeus

  So willed it, in whose eyes it was not meet

  That Hercules’ child should perish wretchedly.

  His glorious son with glad heart Paris led

  Unto his palace through the wide-wayed burg 160

  Beside Assaracus’ tomb and stately halls

  Of Hector, and Tritonis’ holy fane.

  Hard by his mansion stood, and therebeside

  The stainless altar of Home-warder Zeus

  Rose. As they went, he lovingly questioned him

  Of brethren, parents, and of marriage-kin;

  And all he craved to know Eurypylus told.

  So communed they, on-pacing side by side.

  Then came they to a palace great and rich:

  There goddess-like sat Helen, clothed upon 170

  With beauty of the Graces. Maidens four

  About her plied their tasks: others apart

  Within that goodly bower wrought the works

  Beseeming handmaids. Helen marvelling gazed

  Upon Eurypylus, on Helen he.

  Then these in converse each with other spake

  In that all-odorous bower. The handmaids brought

  And set beside their lady high-seats twain;

  And Paris sat him down, and at his side

  Eurypylus. That hero’s host encamped 180

  Without the city, where the Trojan guards

  Kept watch. Their armour laid they on the earth;

  Their steeds, yet breathing battle, stood thereby,

  And cribs were heaped with horses’ provender.

  Upfloated night, and darkened earth and air;

  Then feasted they before that cliff-like wall,

  Ceteian men and Trojans: babel of talk

  Rose from the feasters: all around the glow

  Of blazing campfires lighted up the tents:

  Pealed out the pipe’s sweet voice, and hautboys rang 190

  With their clear-shrilling reeds; the witching strain

  Of lyres was rippling round. From far away

  The Argives gazed and marvelled, seeing the plain

  Aglare with many fires, and hearing notes

  Of flutes and lyres, neighing of chariot-steeds

  And pipes, the shepherd’s and the banquet’s joy.

  Therefore they bade their fellows each in turn

  Keep watch and ward about the tents till dawn,

  Lest those proud Trojans feasting by their walls

  Should fall on them, and set the ships aflame. 200

  Within the halls of Paris all this while

  With kings and princes Telephus’ hero son

  Feasted; and Priam and the sons of Troy

  Each after each prayed him to play the man

  Against the Argives, and in bitter doom

  To lay them low; and blithe he promised all.

  So when they had supped, each hied him to his home;

  But there Eurypylus laid him down to rest

  Full nigh the feast-hall, in the stately bower

  Where Paris theretofore himself had slept 210

  With Helen world-renowned. A bower it was

  Most wondrous fair, the goodliest of them all.

  There lay he down; but otherwhere their rest

  Took they, till rose the bright-throned Queen of Morn.

  Up sprang with dawn the son of Telephus,

  And passed to the host with all those other kings

  In Troy abiding. Straightway did the folk

  All battle-eager don their warrior-gear,

  Burning to strike in forefront of the fight.

  And now Eurypylus clad his mighty limbs 220

  In armour that like levin-flashes gleamed;

  Upon his shield by cunning hands were wrought

  All the great labours of strong Hercules.

  Thereon were seen two serpents flickering

  Black tongues from grimly jaws: they seemed in act

  To dart; but Hercules’ hands to right and left —

  Albeit a babe’s hands — now were throttling them;

  For aweless was his spirit. As Zeus’ strength

  From the beginning was his strength. The seed

  Of Heaven-abiders never deedless is 230

  Nor helpless, but hath boundless prowess, yea,

  Even when in the womb unborn it lies.

  Nemea’s mighty lion there was seen

  Strangled in the strong arms of Hercules,

  His grim jaws dashed about with bloody foam:

  He seemed in verity gasping out his life.

  Thereby was wrought the Hydra many-necked

  Flickering its dread tongues. Of its fearful heads

  Some severed lay on earth, but many more

  Were budding from its necks, while Hercules 240

  And Iolaus, dauntless-hearted twain,

  Toiled hard; the one with lightning sickle-sweeps

  Lopped the fierce heads, his fellow seared each neck

  With glowing iron; the monster so was slain.

  Thereby was wrought the mighty tameless Boar

  With foaming jaws; real seemed the pictured thing,

  As by Aleides’ giant strength the brute

  Was to Eurystheus living borne on high.

  There fashioned was the fleetfoot stag which laid

  The vineyards waste of hapless husbandmen. 250

  The Hero’s hands held fast its golden horns,

  The while it snorted breath of ravening fire.

  Thereon were seen the fierce Stymphalian Birds,

  Some arrow-smitten dying in the dust,

  Some through the grey air darting in swif
t flight.

  At this, at that one — hot in haste he seemed —

  Hercules sped the arrows of his wrath.

  Augeias’ monstrous stable there was wrought

  With cunning craft on that invincible targe;

  And Hercules was turning through the same 260

  The deep flow of Alpheius’ stream divine,

  While wondering Nymphs looked down on every hand

  Upon that mighty work. Elsewhere portrayed

  Was the Fire-breathing Bull: the Hero’s grip

  On his strong horns wrenched round the massive neck:

  The straining muscles on his arm stood out:

  The huge beast seemed to bellow. Next thereto

  Wrought on the shield was one in beauty arrayed

  As of a Goddess, even Hippolyta.

  The hero by the hair was dragging her 270

  From her swift steed, with fierce resolve to wrest

  With his strong hands the Girdle Marvellous

  From the Amazon Queen, while quailing shrank away

  The Maids of War. There in the Thracian land

  Were Diomedes’ grim man-eating steeds:

  These at their gruesome mangers had he slain,

  And dead they lay with their fiend-hearted lord.

  There lay the bulk of giant Geryon

  Dead mid his kine. His gory heads were cast

  In dust, dashed down by that resistless club. 280

  Before him slain lay that most murderous hound

  Orthros, in furious might like Cerberus

  His brother-hound: a herdman lay thereby,

  Eurytion, all bedabbled with his blood.

  There were the Golden Apples wrought, that gleamed

  In the Hesperides’ garden undefiled:

  All round the fearful Serpent’s dead coils lay,

  And shrank the Maids aghast from Zeus’ bold son.

  And there, a dread sight even for Gods to see,

  Was Cerberus, whom the Loathly Worm had borne 290

  To Typho in a craggy cavern’s gloom

  Close on the borders of Eternal Night,

  A hideous monster, warder of the Gate

  Of Hades, Home of Wailing, jailer-hound

  Of dead folk in the shadowy Gulf of Doom.

  But lightly Zeus’ son with his crashing blows

  Tamed him, and haled him from the cataract flood

  Of Styx, with heavy-drooping head, and dragged

  The Dog sore loth to the strange upper air

  All dauntlessly. And there, at the world’s end, 300

  Were Caucasus’ long glens, where Hercules,

  Rending Prometheus’ chains, and hurling them

  This way and that with fragments of the rock

  Whereinto they were riveted, set free

  The mighty Titan. Arrow-smitten lay

  The Eagle of the Torment therebeside.

  There stormed the wild rout of the Centaurs round

  The hall of Pholus: goaded on by Strife

  And wine, with Hercules the monsters fought.

  Amidst the pine-trunks stricken to death they lay 310

  Still grasping those strange weapons in dead hands,

  While some with stems long-shafted still fought on

  In fury, and refrained not from the strife;

  And all their heads, gashed in the pitiless fight,

  Were drenched with gore — the whole scene seemed to live —

  With blood the wine was mingled: meats and bowls

  And tables in one ruin shattered lay.

  There by Evenus’ torrent, in fierce wrath

  For his sweet bride, he laid with the arrow low

  Nessus in mid-flight. There withal was wrought 320

  Antaeus’ brawny strength, who challenged him

  To wrestling-strife; he in those sinewy arms

  Raised high above the earth, was crushed to death.

  There where swift Hellespont meets the outer sea,

  Lay the sea-monster slain by his ruthless shafts,

  While from Hesione he rent her chains.

  Of bold Alcides many a deed beside

  Shone on the broad shield of Eurypylus.

  He seemed the War-god, as from rank to rank

  He sped; rejoiced the Trojans following him, 330

  Seeing his arms, and him clothed with the might

  Of Gods; and Paris hailed him to the fray:

  “Glad am I for thy coming, for mine heart

  Trusts that the Argives all shall wretchedly

  Be with their ships destroyed; for such a man

  Mid Greeks or Trojans never have I seen.

  Now, by the strength and fury of Hercules —

  To whom in stature, might, and goodlihead

  Most like thou art I pray thee, have in mind

  Him, and resolve to match his deeds with thine. 340

  Be the strong shield of Trojans hard-bestead:

  Win us a breathing-space. Thou only, I trow,

  From perishing Troy canst thrust the dark doom back.”

  With kindling words he spake. That hero cried:

  “Great-hearted Paris, like the Blessed Ones

  In goodlihead, this lieth foreordained

  On the Gods’ knees, who in the fight shall fall,

  And who outlive it. I, as honour bids,

  And as my strength sufficeth, will not flinch

  From Troy’s defence. I swear to turn from fight 350

  Never, except in victory or death.”

  Gallantly spake he: with exceeding joy

  Rejoiced the Trojans. Champions then he chose,

  Alexander and Aeneas fiery-souled,

  Polydamas, Pammon, and Deiphobus,

  And Aethicus, of Paphlagonian men

  The staunchest man to stem the tide of war;

  These chose he, cunning all in battle-toil,

  To meet the foe in forefront of the fight.

  Swiftly they strode before that warrior-throng 360

  Then from the city cheering charged. The host

  Followed them in their thousands, as when bees

  Follow by bands their leaders from the hives,

  With loud hum on a spring day pouring forth.

  So to the fight the warriors followed these;

  And, as they charged, the thunder-tramp of men

  And steeds, and clang of armour, rang to heaven.

  As when a rushing mighty wind stirs up

  The barren sea-plain from its nethermost floor,

  And darkling to the strand roll roaring waves 370

  Belching sea-tangle from the bursting surf,

  And wild sounds rise from beaches harvestless;

  So, as they charged, the wide earth rang again.

  Now from their rampart forth the Argives poured

  Round godlike Agamemnon. Rang their shouts

  Cheering each other on to face the fight,

  And not to cower beside the ships in dread

  Of onset-shouts of battle-eager foes.

  They met those charging hosts with hearts as light

  As calves bear, when they leap to meet the kine 380

  Down faring from hill-pastures in the spring

  Unto the steading, when the fields are green

  With corn-blades, when the earth is glad with flowers,

  And bowls are brimmed with milk of kine and ewes,

  And multitudinous lowing far and near

  Uprises as the mothers meet their young,

  And in their midst the herdman joys; so great

  Was the uproar that rose when met the fronts

  Of battle: dread it rang on either hand.

  Hard-strained was then the fight: incarnate 390

  Strife Stalked through the midst, with Slaughter

  ghastly-faced.

  Crashed bull-hide shields, and spears, and helmet-crests

  Meeting: the brass flashed out like leaping flames.

  Bristled the battle with the lances; earth
<
br />   Ran red with blood, as slaughtered heroes fell

  And horses, mid a tangle of shattered ears,

  Some yet with spear-wounds gasping, while on them

  Others were falling. Through the air upshrieked

  An awful indistinguishable roar;

  For on both hosts fell iron-hearted Strife. 400

  Here were men hurling cruel jagged stones,

  There speeding arrows and new-whetted darts,

  There with the axe or twibill hewing hard,

  Slashing with swords, and thrusting out with spears:

  Their mad hands clutched all manner of tools of death.

  At first the Argives bore the ranks of Troy

  Backward a little; but they rallied, charged,

  Leapt on the foe, and drenched the field with blood.

  Like a black hurricane rushed Eurypylus

  Cheering his men on, hewing Argives down 410

  Awelessly: measureless might was lent to him

  By Zeus, for a grace to glorious Hercules.

  Nireus, a man in beauty like the Gods,

  His spear long-shafted stabbed beneath the ribs,

  Down on the plain he fell, forth streamed the blood

  Drenching his splendid arms, drenching the form

  Glorious of mould, and his thick-clustering hair.

  There mid the slain in dust and blood he lay,

  Like a young lusty olive-sapling, which

  A river rushing down in roaring flood, 420

  Tearing its banks away, and cleaving wide

  A chasm-channel, hath disrooted; low

  It lieth heavy-blossomed; so lay then

  The goodly form, the grace of loveliness

  Of Nireus on earth’s breast. But o’er the slain

  Loud rang the taunting of Eurypylus:

  “Lie there in dust! Thy beauty marvellous

  Naught hath availed thee! I have plucked thee away

  From life, to which thou wast so fain to cling.

  Rash fool, who didst defy a mightier man 430

  Unknowing! Beauty is no match for strength!”

  He spake, and leapt upon the slain to strip

  His goodly arms: but now against him came

  Machaon wroth for Nireus, by his side

  Doom-overtaken. With his spear he drave

  At his right shoulder: strong albeit he was,

  He touched him, and blood spurted from the gash.

  Yet, ere he might leap back from grapple of death,

  Even as a lion or fierce mountain-boar

  Maddens mid thronging huntsmen, furious-fain 440