The toils of men, seaports, and shores, are hid, and ev’ry place,
But floods, that snow’s fair tender flakes, as their own brood, embrace;
So both sides cover’d earth with stones, so both for life contend,
To show their sharpness; through the wall uproar stood up an end.
Nor had great Hector and his friends the rampire overrun,
If heav’n’s great Counsellor, high Jove, had not inflam’d his son
Sarpedon (like the forest’s king when he on oxen flies)
Against the Grecians; his round targe he to his arm applies,
Brass-leav’d without, and all within thick ox-hides quilted hard,
The verge nail’d round with rods of gold; and, with two darts prepar’d,
He leads his people. As ye see a mountain-lion fare,
Long kept from prey, in forcing which, his high mind makes him dare
Assault upon the whole full fold, though guarded never so
With well-arm’d men, and eager dogs; away he will not go,
But venture on, and either snatch a prey, or be a prey;
So far’d divine Sarpedon’s mind, resolv’d to force his way
Through all the fore-fights, and the wall; yet since he did not see
Others as great as he in name, as great in mind as he,
He spake to Glaucus: 3 “Glaucus, say, why are we honour’d more
Than other men of Lycia, in place; with greater store
Of meats and cups; with goodlier roofs; delightsome gardens; walks;
More lands and better; so much wealth, that court and country talks
Of us and our possessions, and ev’ry way we go,
Gaze on us as we were their Gods? This where we dwell is so;
The shores of Xanthus ring of this; and shall we not exceed
As much in merit as in noise? Come, be we great in deed
As well as look; shine not in gold, but in the flames of fight;
That so our neat-arm’d Lycians may say: ‘See, these are right
Our kings, our rulers; these deserve to eat and drink the best;
These govern not ingloriously; these, thus exceed the rest,
Do more than they command to do.’ O friend, if keeping back
Would keep back age from us, and death, and that we might not wrack
In this life’s human sea at all, but that deferring now
We shunn’d death ever, nor would I half this vain valour show,
Nor glorify a folly so, to wish thee to advance;
But since we must go, though not here, and that, besides the chance
Propos’d now, there are infinite fates of other sort in death,
Which, neither to be fled nor ‘scaped, a man must sink beneath,
Come, try we, if this sort be ours, and either render thus
Glory to others, or make them resign the like to us.”
This motion Glaucus shifted not, but without words obey’d.
Foreright went both, a mighty troop of Lycians followéd.
Which by Menestheus observ’d, his hair stood up on end,
For, at the tow’r where he had charge, he saw Calamity bend
Her horrid brows in their approach. He threw his looks about
The whole fights near, to see what chief might help the mis’ry out
Of his poor soldiers, and beheld where both th’ Ajaces fought,
And Teucer newly come from fleet; whom it would profit nought
To call, since tumult on their helms, shields, and upon the ports,
Laid such loud claps; for ev’ry way, defences of all sorts
Were adding, as Troy took away; and Clamour flew so high
Her wings strook heav’n, and drown’d all voice. The two dukes yet so nigh
And at the offer of assault, he to th’ Ajaces sent
Thoos the herald with this charge: “Run to the regiment
Of both th’ Ajaces, and call both, for both were better here,
Since here will slaughter, instantly, be more enforc’d than there.
The Lycian captains this way make, who in the fights of stand
Have often show’d much excellence. Yet if laborious hand
Be there more needful than I hope, at least afford us some,
Let Ajax Telamonius and th’ archer Teucer come.”
The herald hasted, and arriv’d; and both th’ Ajaces told,
That Peteus’ noble son desir’d their little labour would
Employ himself in succouring him. Both their supplies were best,
Since death assail’d his quarter most; for on it fiercely press’d
The well-prov’d mighty Lycian chiefs. Yet if the service there
Allow’d not both, he pray’d that one part of his charge would bear,
And that was Ajax Telamon, with whom he wish’d would come
The archer Teucer. Telamon left instantly his room
To strong Lycomedes, and will’d Ajax Oiliades
With him to make up his supply, and fill with courages
The Grecian hearts till his return; which should he instantly
When he had well reliev’d his friend. With this the company
Of Teucer he took to his aid; Teucer, that did descend
(As Ajax did) from Telamon. With these two did attend
Pandion, that bore Teucer’s bow. When to Menestheus’ tow’r
They came, alongst the wall, they found him, and his hearten’d pow’r,
Toiling in making strong their fort. The Lycian princes set
Black whirlwind-like, with both their pow’rs, upon the parapet.
Ajax, and all, resisted them. Clamour amongst them rose.
The slaughter Ajax led; who first the last dear sight did close
Of strong Epicles, that was friend to Jove’s great Lycian son.
Amongst the high munition heap, a mighty marble stone
Lay highest, near the pinnacle, a stone of such a paise
That one of this time’s strongest men with both hands could not raise,
Yet this did Ajax rouse and throw, and all in sherds did drive
Epicles’ four-topp’d casque and skull; who (as ye see one dive
In some deep river) left his height; life left his bones withal.
Teucer shot Glaucus, rushing up yet higher on the wall,
Where naked he discern’d his arm, and made him steal retreat
From that hot service, lest some Greek, with an insulting threat,
Beholding it, might fright the rest. Sarpedon much was griev’d
At Glaucus parting, yet fought on, and his great heart reliev’d
A little with Alcmaon’s blood, surnam’d Thestorides,
Whose life he hurl’d out with his lance; which following through the prease
He drew from him. Down from the tow’r Alcmaon dead it strook;
His fair arms ringing out his death. Then fierce Sarpedon took
In his strong hand the battlement, and down he tore it quite,
The wall stripp’d naked, and broad way for entry and full fight
He made the many. Against him Ajax and Teucer made;
Teucer the rich belt on his breast did with a shaft invade;
But Jupiter averted death, who would not see his son
Die at the tails of th’ Achive ships. Ajax did fetch his run,
And, with his lance, strook through the targe of that brave Lycian king;
Yet kept he it from further pass, nor did it anything
Dismay his mind, although his men stood off from that high way
His valour made them, which he kept, and hop’d that stormy day
Should ever make his glory clear. His men’s fault thus he blam’d:
“O Lycians, why are your hot spirits so quickly disinflam’d?
Suppose me ablest of you all, ’tis hard for me alone
To ruin such a wall as this, and make confusion
Way to their navy. Lend your hands. What many
can dispatch,
One cannot think. The noble work of many hath no match.”
The wise king’s just rebuke did strike a rev’rence to his will
Through all his soldiers; all stood in, and ‘gainst all th’ Achives still
Made strong their squadrons, insomuch, that to the adverse side,
The work show’d mighty, and the wall, when ’twas within descried,
No easy service; yet the Greeks could neither free their wall
Of these brave Lycians, that held firm the place they first did scale;
Nor could the Lycians from their fort the sturdy Grecians drive,
Nor reach their fleet. But as two men about the limits strive
Of land that toucheth in a field, their measures in their hands,
They mete their parts out curiously, and either stiffly stands
That so far is his right in law, both hugely set on fire
About a passing-little ground; so, greedily aspire
Both these foes to their sev’ral ends, and all exhaust their most
About the very battlements (for yet no more was lost ). 4
With sword and fire they vex’d for them their targes hugely round,
With ox-hides lin’d, and bucklers light; and many a ghastly wound
The stern steel gave for that one prise; whereof though some receiv’d
Their portions on their naked backs, yet others were bereav’d
Of brave lives, face-turn’d, through their shields; tow’rs, bulwarks, ev’rywhere
Were freckled with the blood of men. Nor yet the Greeks did bear
Base back-turn’d faces; nor their foes would therefore be out-fac’d.
But as a spinster poor and just, ye sometimes see, straight-lac’d
About the weighing of her web, who, careful, having charge
For which she would provide some means, is loth to be too large
In giving or in taking weight, but ever with her hand
Is doing with the weights and wool, till both in just paise stand; 5
So ev’nly stood it with these foes, till Jove to Hector gave
The turning of the scales; who first against the rampire drave,
And spake so loud that all might hear: “O stand not at the pale,
Brave Trojan friends, but mend your hands; up, and break through the wall,
And make a bonfire of their fleet.” All heard, and all in heaps
Got scaling-ladders, and aloft. In mean space, Hector leaps
Upon the port, from whose out-part he tore a massy stone,
Thick downwards, upward edg’d; it was so huge an one
That two vast yeomen of most strength, such as these times beget, 6
Could not from earth lift to a cart, yet he did brandish it
Alone, Saturnius made it light; and swinging it as nought,
He came before the planky gates, that all for strength were wrought,
And kept the port; two-fold they were, and with two rafters barr’d,
High, and strong-lock’d; he rais’d the stone, bent to the hurl so hard,
And made it with so main a strength, that all the gates did crack,
The rafters left them, and the folds one from another brake,
The hinges piecemeal flew, and through the fervent little rock
Thunder’d a passage; with his weight th’ inwall his breast did knock,
And in rush’d Hector, fierce and grim as any stormy night;
His brass arms round about his breast reflected terrible light;
Each arm held-up held each a dart; his presence call’d up all
The dreadful spirits his being held, that to the threaten’d wall
None but the Gods might check his way; his eyes were furnaces;
And thus he look’d back, call’d in all. All fir’d their courages,
And in they flow’d. The Grecians fled, their fleet now and their freight
Ask’d all their rescue. Greece went down; Tumult was at his height.
THE END OF THE TWELFTH BOOK.
ENDNOTES.
1 Such maketh Virgil Pandaras and Bitias.
2 Apta ad rem comparatio.
3 Sarpedon’s speech to Glaucus, neither equalled by any (in this kind) of all that have written.
4 Admiranda et penè inimitabilis comparatio (saith Spond.); and yet in the explication of it, he thinks all superfluous but three words, ὀλίγῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ, exiguo in loco, leaving out other words more expressive, with his old rule, uno pede, etc.
5 A simile superior to the other, in which, comparing mightiest things with meanest, and the meanest illustrating the mightiest, both meeting in one end of this life’s preservation and credit, our Homer is beyond comparison and admiration.
6 Δύ ἀνέρε δήμου, Duo viri plebei.
THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ILIADS
THE ARGUMENT
Neptune (in pity of the Greeks’ hard plight)
Like Calchas, both th’ Ajaces doth excite,
And others, to repel the charging foe.
Idomenëus bravely doth bestow
His kingly forces, and doth sacrifice
Othryonëus to the Destinies,
With divers others. Fair Deiphobus,
And his prophetic brother Helenus,
Are wounded. But the great Priamides.
Gath’ring his forces, heartens their address
Against the enemy; and then the field
A mighty death on either side doth yield.
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
The Greeks, with Troy’s bold pow’r dismay’d,
Are cheer’d by Neptune’s secret aid.
Jove helping Hector, and his host, thus close Achive fleet,
He let them then their own strengths try, and season there their sweet
With ceaseless toils and grievances; for now he turn’d his face,
Look’d down, and view’d the far-off land of well-rode men in
Thrace,
Of the renown’d milk-nourish’d men, the Hippemolgians,
Long-liv’d, most just, and innocent, and close-fought Mysians.
Nor turn’d he any more to Troy his ever-shining eyes,
Because he thought not any one, of all the Deities,
When his care left th’ indiff’rent field, would aid on either side.
But this security in Jove the great Sea-Rector spied,
Who sat aloft on th’ utmost top of shady Samothrace,
And view’d the fight. His chosen seat stood in so brave a place,
That Priam’s city, th’ Achive ships, all Ida, did appear
To his full view; who from the sea was therefore seated there.
He took much ruth to see the Greeks by Troy sustain such ill,
And, mightily incens’d with Jove, stoop’d straight from that steep hill,
That shook as he flew off, so hard his parting press’d the height.
The woods, and all the great hills near, trembled beneath the weight
Of his immortal moving feet. Three steps he only took,
Before he far-off Ægas reach’d, but, with the fourth, it shook
With his dread entry. In the depth of those seas he did hold
His bright and glorious palace, built of never-rusting gold;
And there arriv’d, he put in coach his brazen-footed steeds,
All golden-maned, and pac’d with wings; and all in golden weeds
He cloth’d himself. The golden scourge, most elegantly done,
He took, and mounted to his seat; and then the God begun
To drive his chariot through the waves. From whirlpits ev’ry way
The whales exulted under him, and knew their king; the sea
For joy did open; and, his horse so swift and lightly flew,
The under axletree of brass no drop of water drew;
And thus these deathless coursers brought their king to th’ Achive ships.
‘Twixt th’ Imber cliffs and Tenedos, a certain
cavern creeps
Into the deep sea’s gulfy breast, and there th’ Earth-shaker stay’d
His forward steeds, took them from coach, and heav’nly fodder laid
In reach before them; their brass hoves he girt with gyves of gold,
Not to be broken, nor dissolved, to make them firmly hold
A fit attendance on their king; who went to th’ Achive host,
Which, like to tempests or wild flames, the clust’ring Trojans tost,
Insatiably valorous, in Hector’s like command,
High sounding, and resounding, shouts; for hope cheer’d ev’ry hand,
To make the Greek fleet now their prise, and all the Greeks destroy.
But Neptune, circler of the earth, with fresh heart did employ
The Grecian hands. In strength of voice and body he did take
Calchas’ resemblance, and, of all, th’ Ajaces first bespake,
Who of themselves were free enough: “Ajaces, you alone
Sustain the common good of Greece, in ever putting on
The memory of fortitude, and flying shameful flight.
Elsewhere the desp’rate hands of Troy could give me no affright,
The brave Greeks have withstood their worst; but this our mighty wall
Being thus transcended by their pow’r, grave fear doth much appall
My careful spirits, lest we feel some fatal mischief here,
Where Hector, raging like a flame, doth in his charge appear,
And boasts himself the best God’s son. Be you conceited so,
And fire so, more than human spirits, that God may seem to do
In your deeds, and, with such thoughts cheer’d, others to such exhort,
And such resistance; these great minds will in as great a sort
Strengthen your bodies, and force check to all great Hector’s charge,
Though ne’er so spirit-like, and though Jove still, past himself, enlarge
His sacred actions.” Thus he touched, with his fork’d sceptre’s point,
The breasts of both; fill’d both their spirits, and made up ev’ry joint
With pow’r responsive; when, hawk-like, swift, and set sharp to fly,
That fiercely stooping from a rock, inaccessible and high,
Cuts through a field, and sets a fowl (not being of her kind)
Hard, and gets ground still; Neptune so left these two, either’s mind
Beyond themselves rais’d. Of both which, Oïleus first discern’d
The masking Deity, and said: “Ajax, some God hath warn’d
Our pow’rs to fight, and save our fleet. He put on him the hue
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 77
