Delphi Complete Works of Quintus Smyrnaeus

by Quintus Smyrnaeus

  Even in departing, galled albeit by darts:

  So from the great Horse fled she, anguish-racked

  For Troy, for all the ruin she foreknew. 630

  BOOK XIII. HOW TROY IN THE NIGHT WAS TAKEN AND SACKED WITH FIRE AND SLAUGHTER.

  So feasted they through Troy, and in their midst

  Loud pealed the flutes and pipes: on every hand

  Were song and dance, laughter and cries confused

  Of banqueters beside the meats and wine.

  They, lifting in their hands the beakers brimmed,

  Recklessly drank, till heavy of brain they grew,

  Till rolled their fluctuant eyes. Now and again

  Some mouth would babble the drunkard’s broken words.

  The household gear, the very roof and walls

  Seemed as they rocked: all things they looked on seemed 10

  Whirled in wild dance. About their eyes a veil

  Of mist dropped, for the drunkard’s sight is dimmed,

  And the wit dulled, when rise the fumes to the brain:

  And thus a heavy-headed feaster cried:

  “For naught the Danaans mustered that great host

  Hither! Fools, they have wrought not their intent,

  But with hopes unaccomplished from our town

  Like silly boys or women have they fled.”

  So cried a Trojan wit-befogged with wine,

  Fool, nor discerned destruction at the doors. 20

  When sleep had locked his fetters everywhere

  Through Troy on folk fulfilled of wine and meat,

  Then Sinon lifted high a blazing torch

  To show the Argive men the splendour of fire.

  But fearfully the while his heart beat, lest

  The men of Troy might see it, and the plot

  Be suddenly revealed. But on their beds

  Sleeping their last sleep lay they, heavy with wine.

  The host saw, and from Tenedos set sail.

  Then nigh the Horse drew Sinon: softly he called, 30

  Full softly, that no man of Troy might hear,

  But only Achaea’s chiefs, far from whose eyes

  Sleep hovered, so athirst were they for fight.

  They heard, and to Odysseus all inclined

  Their ears: he bade them urgently go forth

  Softly and fearlessly; and they obeyed

  That battle-summons, pressing in hot haste

  To leap to earth: but in his subtlety

  He stayed them from all thrusting eagerly forth.

  But first himself with swift unfaltering hands, 40

  Helped of Epeius, here and there unbarred

  The ribs of the Horse of beams: above the planks

  A little he raised his head, and gazed around

  On all sides, if he haply might descry

  One Trojan waking yet. As when a wolf,

  With hunger stung to the heart, comes from the hills,

  And ravenous for flesh draws nigh the flock

  Penned in the wide fold, slinking past the men

  And dogs that watch, all keen to ward the sheep,

  Then o’er the fold-wall leaps with soundless feet; 50

  So stole Odysseus down from the Horse: with him

  Followed the war-fain lords of Hellas’ League,

  Orderly stepping down the ladders, which

  Epeius framed for paths of mighty men,

  For entering and for passing forth the Horse,

  Who down them now on this side, that side, streamed

  As fearless wasps startled by stroke of axe

  In angry mood pour all together forth

  From the tree-bole, at sound of woodman’s blow;

  So battle-kindled forth the Horse they poured 60

  Into the midst of that strong city of Troy

  With hearts that leapt expectant. [With swift hands

  Snatched they the brands from dying hearths, and fired

  Temple and palace. Onward then to the gates

  Sped they,] and swiftly slew the slumbering guards,

  [Then held the gate-towers till their friends should come.]

  Fast rowed the host the while; on swept the ships

  Over the great flood: Thetis made their paths

  Straight, and behind them sent a driving wind

  Speeding them, and the hearts Achaean glowed. 70

  Swiftly to Hellespont’s shore they came, and there

  Beached they the keels again, and deftly dealt

  With whatso tackling appertains to ships.

  Then leapt they aland, and hasted on to Troy

  Silent as sheep that hurry to the fold

  From woodland pasture on an autumn eve;

  So without sound of voices marched they on

  Unto the Trojans’ fortress, eager all

  To help those mighty chiefs with foes begirt.

  Now these — as famished wolves fierce-glaring round 80

  Fall on a fold mid the long forest-hills,

  While sleeps the toil-worn watchman, and they rend

  The sheep on every hand within the wall

  In darkness, and all round [are heaped the slain;

  So these within the city smote and slew,

  As swarmed the awakened foe around them; yet,

  Fast as they slew, aye faster closed on them

  Those thousands, mad to thrust them from the gates.]

  Slipping in blood and stumbling o’er the dead

  [Their line reeled,] and destruction loomed o’er them, 90

  Though Danaan thousands near and nearer drew.

  But when the whole host reached the walls of Troy,

  Into the city of Priam, breathing rage

  Of fight, with reckless battle-lust they poured;

  And all that fortress found they full of war

  And slaughter, palaces, temples, horribly

  Blazing on all sides; glowed their hearts with joy.

  In deadly mood then charged they on the foe.

  Ares and fell Enyo maddened there:

  Blood ran in torrents, drenched was all the earth, 100

  As Trojans and their alien helpers died.

  Here were men lying quelled by bitter death

  All up and down the city in their blood;

  Others on them were falling, gasping forth

  Their life’s strength; others, clutching in their hands

  Their bowels that looked through hideous gashes forth,

  Wandered in wretched plight around their homes:

  Others, whose feet, while yet asleep they lay,

  Had been hewn off, with groans unutterable

  Crawled mid the corpses. Some, who had rushed to fight, 110

  Lay now in dust, with hands and heads hewn off.

  Some were there, through whose backs, even as they fled,

  The spear had passed, clear through to the breast, and some

  Whose waists the lance had pierced, impaling them

  Where sharpest stings the anguish-laden steel.

  And all about the city dolorous howls

  Of dogs uprose, and miserable moans

  Of strong men stricken to death; and every home

  With awful cries was echoing. Rang the shrieks

  Of women, like to screams of cranes, which see 120

  An eagle stooping on them from the sky,

  Which have no courage to resist, but scream

  Long terror-shrieks in dread of Zeus’s bird;

  So here, so there the Trojan women wailed,

  Some starting from their sleep, some to the ground

  Leaping: they thought not in that agony

  Of robe and zone; in naught but tunics clad

  Distraught they wandered: others found nor veil

  Nor cloak to cast about them, but, as came

  Onward their foes, they stood with beating hearts 130

  Trembling, as lettered by despair, essaying,

  All-hapless, with their hands alone to hide

  Thei
r nakedness. And some in frenzy of woe:

  Their tresses tore, and beat their breasts, and screamed.

  Others against that stormy torrent of foes

  Recklessly rushed, insensible of fear,

  Through mad desire to aid the perishing,

  Husbands or children; for despair had given

  High courage. Shrieks had startled from their sleep

  Soft little babes whose hearts had never known 140

  Trouble — and there one with another lay

  Gasping their lives out! Some there were whose dreams

  Changed to a sudden vision of doom. All round

  The fell Fates gloated horribly o’er the slain.

  And even as swine be slaughtered in the court

  Of a rich king who makes his folk a feast,

  So without number were they slain. The wine

  Left in the mixing-bowls was blent with blood

  Gruesomely. No man bare a sword unstained

  With murder of defenceless folk of Troy, 150

  Though he were but a weakling in fair fight.

  And as by wolves or jackals sheep are torn,

  What time the furnace-breath of midnoon-heat

  Darts down, and all the flock beneath the shade

  Are crowded, and the shepherd is not there,

  But to the homestead bears afar their milk;

  And the fierce brutes leap on them, tear their throats,

  Gorge to the full their ravenous maws, and then

  Lap the dark blood, and linger still to slay

  All in mere lust of slaughter, and provide 160

  An evil banquet for that shepherd-lord;

  So through the city of Priam Danaans slew

  One after other in that last fight of all.

  No Trojan there was woundless, all men’s limbs

  With blood in torrents spilt were darkly dashed.

  Nor seetheless were the Danaans in the fray:

  With beakers some were smitten, with tables some,

  Thrust in the eyes of some were burning brands

  Snatched from the hearth; some died transfixed with spits

  Yet left within the hot flesh of the swine 170

  Whereon the red breath of the Fire-god beat;

  Others struck down by bills and axes keen

  Gasped in their blood: from some men’s hands were shorn

  The fingers, who, in wild hope to escape

  The imminent death, had clutched the blades of swords.

  And here in that dark tumult one had hurled

  A stone, and crushed the crown of a friend’s head.

  Like wild beasts trapped and stabbed within a fold

  On a lone steading, frenziedly they fought,

  Mad with despair-enkindled rage, beneath 180

  That night of horror. Hot with battle-lust

  Here, there, the fighters rushed and hurried through

  The palace of Priam. Many an Argive fell

  Spear-slain; for whatso Trojan in his halls

  Might seize a sword, might lift a spear in hand,

  Slew foes — ay, heavy though he were with wine.

  Upflashed a glare unearthly through the town,

  For many an Argive bare in hand a torch

  To know in that dim battle friends from foes.

  Then Tydeus’ son amid the war-storm met 190

  Spearman Coroebus, lordly Mygdon’s son,

  And ‘neath the left ribs pierced him with the lance

  Where run the life-ways of man’s meat and drink;

  So met him black death borne upon the spear:

  Down in dark blood he fell mid hosts of slain.

  Ah fool! the bride he won not, Priam’s child

  Cassandra, yea, his loveliest, for whose sake

  To Priam’s burg but yesterday he came,

  And vaunted he would thrust the Argives back

  From Ilium. Never did the Gods fulfil 200

  His hope: the Fates hurled doom upon his head.

  With him the slayer laid Eurydamas low,

  Antenor’s gallant son-in-law, who most

  For prudence was pre-eminent in Troy.

  Then met he Ilioneus the elder of days,

  And flashed his terrible sword forth. All the limbs

  Of that grey sire were palsied with his fear:

  He put forth trembling hands, with one he caught

  The swift avenging sword, with one he clasped

  The hero’s knees. Despite his fury of war, 210

  A moment paused his wrath, or haply a God

  Held back the sword a space, that that old man

  Might speak to his fierce foe one word of prayer.

  Piteously cried he, terror-overwhelmed:

  “I kneel before thee, whosoe’er thou be

  Of mighty Argives. Oh compassionate

  My suppliant hands! Abate thy wrath! To slay

  The young and valiant is a glorious thing;

  But if thou smite an old man, small renown

  Waits on thy prowess. Therefore turn from me 220

  Thine hands against young men, if thou dost hope

  Ever to come to grey hairs such as mine.”

  So spake he; but replied strong Tydeus’ son:

  “Old man, I look to attain to honoured age;

  But while my Strength yet waxeth, will not I

  Spare any foe, but hurl to Hades all.

  The brave man makes an end of every foe.”

  Then through his throat that terrible warrior drave

  The deadly blade, and thrust it straight to where

  The paths of man’s life lead by swiftest way 230

  Blood-paved to doom: death palsied his poor strength

  By Diomedes’ hands. Thence rushed he on

  Slaying the Trojans, storming in his might

  All through their fortress: pierced by his long spear

  Eurycoon fell, Perimnestor’s son renowned.

  Amphimedon Aias slew: Agamemnon smote

  Damastor’s son: Idomeneus struck down

  Mimas: by Meges Deiopites died.

  Achilles’ son with his resistless lance

  Smote godlike Pammon; then his javelin pierced 240

  Polites in mid-rush: Antiphonus

  Dead upon these he laid, all Priam’s sons.

  Agenor faced him in the fight, and fell:

  Hero on hero slew he; everywhere

  Stalked at his side Death’s black doom manifest:

  Clad in his sire’s might, whomso he met he slew.

  Last, on Troy’s king in murderous mood he came.

  By Zeus the Hearth-lord’s altar. Seeing him,

  Old Priam knew him and quaked not; for he longed

  Himself to lay his life down midst his sons; 250

  And craving death to Achilles’ seed he spake:

  “Fierce-hearted son of Achilles strong in war,

  Slay me, and pity not my misery.

  I have no will to see the sun’s light more,

  Who have suffered woes so many and so dread.

  With my sons would I die, and so forget

  Anguish and horror of war. Oh that thy sire

  Had slain me, ere mine eyes beheld aflame

  Illium, had slain me when I brought to him

  Ransom for Hector, whom thy father slew. 260

  He spared me — so the Fates had spun my thread

  Of destiny. But thou, glut with my blood

  Thy fierce heart, and let me forget my pain.”

  Answered Achilles’ battle-eager son:

  “Fain am I, yea, in haste to grant thy prayer.

  A foe like thee will I not leave alive;

  For naught is dearer unto men than life.”

  With one stroke swept he off that hoary head

  Lightly as when a reaper lops an ear

  In a parched cornfield at the harvest-tide. 270

  With lips yet murmuring low it rolled afar

  From where with quivering limbs the body
lay

  Amidst dark-purple blood and slaughtered men.

  So lay he, chiefest once of all the world

  In lineage, wealth, in many and goodly sons.

  Ah me, not long abides the honour of man,

  But shame from unseen ambush leaps on him

  So clutched him Doom, so he forgat his woes.

  Yea, also did those Danaan car-lords hurl

  From a high tower the babe Astyanax, 280

  Dashing him out of life. They tore the child

  Out of his mother’s arms, in wrathful hate

  Of Hector, who in life had dealt to them

  Such havoc; therefore hated they his seed,

  And down from that high rampart flung his child —

  A wordless babe that nothing knew of war!

  As when amid the mountains hungry wolves

  Chase from the mother’s side a suckling calf,

  And with malignant cunning drive it o’er

  An echoing cliffs edge, while runs to and fro 290

  Its dam with long moans mourning her dear child,

  And a new evil followeth hard on her,

  For suddenly lions seize her for a prey;

  So, as she agonized for her son, the foe

  To bondage haled with other captive thralls

  That shrieking daughter of King Eetion.

  Then, as on those three fearful deaths she thought

  Of husband, child, and father, Andromaehe

  Longed sore to die. Yea, for the royally-born

  Better it is to die in war, than do 300

  The service of the thrall to baser folk.

  All piteously the broken-hearted cried:

  “Oh hurl my body also from the wall,

  Or down the cliff, or cast me midst the fire,

  Ye Argives! Woes are mine unutterable!

  For Peleus’ son smote down my noble father

  In Thebe, and in Troy mine husband slew,

  Who unto me was all mine heart’s desire,

  Who left me in mine halls one little child,

  My darling and my pride — of all mine hopes 310

  In him fell merciless Fate hath cheated me!

  Oh therefore thrust this broken-hearted one

  Now out of life! Hale me not overseas

  Mingled with spear-thralls; for my soul henceforth

  Hath no more pleasure in life, since God hath slain

  My nearest and my dearest! For me waits

  Trouble and anguish and lone homelessness!”

  So cried she, longing for the grave; for vile

  Is life to them whose glory is swallowed up

  Of shame: a horror is the scorn of men. 320