by Homer
He smil’d, and said: ‘Be confident, thou art belov’d of me:
I speak not this with serious thoughts, but will be kind to thee.’
This said, his brass-hoof’d winged horse he did to chariot bind,
Whose crests were fring’d with manes of gold; and golden garments shin’d
On his rich shoulders; in his hand he took a golden scourge,
Divinely fashion’d, and with blows their willing speed did urge,
Mid way betwixt the earth and heaven. To Ida then he came,
Abounding in delicious springs, and nurse of beasts untame,
Where on the mountain Gargarus men did a fane erect
To his high name, and altars sweet, and there his horse he check’d,
Dissolv’d them from his chariot, and in a cloud of jet
He cover’d them, and on the top took his triumphant seat,
Beholding Priam’s famous town, and all the fleet of Greece.
The Greeks took breakfast speedily, and arm’d at every piece;
So Trojans, who though fewer far, yet all to fight took arms:
Dire need enforc’d them to avert their wives’ and children’s harms.
All gates flew open; all the host did issue, foot and horse,
In mighty tumult: straight one place adjoin’d each adverse force.
Then shields with shields met, darts with darts, strength against strength oppos’d:
The boss-pik’d targets were thrust on, and thunder’d as they clos’d
In mighty tumult; groan for groan, and breath for breath did breath,
Of men then slain, and to be slain: earth flow’d with fruits of death.
While the fair morning’s beauty held and day increas’d in height,
Their javelins mutually made death transport an equal freight:
But when the hot meridian point bright Phoebus did ascend,
Then Jove his golden balances did equally extend,
And of long-rest-conferring death, put in two bitter fates
For Troy and Greece; he held the midst: the day of final dates
Fell on the Greeks: the Greeks’ hard lots sunk to the flow’ry ground,
The Trojans leapt as high as heaven; then did the claps resound
Of his fierce thunder, lightning leapt amongst each Grecian troop:
The sight amaz’d them, pallid fear made boldest stomachs stoop.
Then Idomen durst not abide; Atrides went his way,
And both th’ Ajaces: Nestor yet against his will did stay
(That grave protector of the Greeks), for Paris with a dart
Enrag’d one of his chariot horse; he smote the upper part
Of all his skull, ev’n where the hair, that made his foretop, sprung;
The hurt was deadly, and the pain so sore the courser stung
(Pierc’d to the brain) he stamp’d and plung’d; one on another bears,
Entangled round about the beam; then Nestor cut the gears
With his new-drawn authentic sword: meanwhile the fiery horse
Of Hector brake into the press, with their bold ruler’s force:
Then good old Nestor had been slain, had Diomed not espy’d,
Who to Ulysses, as he fled, importunately cried:
‘Thou that in counsels dost abound, O Laertiades,
Why fliest thou? Why thus coward-like shunn’st thou the honour’d press?
Take heed thy back take not a dart; stay, let us both intend
To drive this cruel enemy from our dear aged friend.’
He spake; but wary Ithacus would find no patient ear,
But fled forthright, even to the fleet. Yet though he single were,
Brave Diomed mix’d amongst the fight, and stood before the steeds
Of old Neleides, whose estate thus kingly he areeds:
‘O father, with these youths in fight thou art unequal plac’d:
Thy willing sinews are unknit, grave age pursues thee fast,
And thy unruly horse are slow; my chariot therefore use,
And try how ready Trojan horse can fly him that pursues,
Pursue the flier, and every way perform the varied fight:
I forc’d them from Anchises’ son, well skill’d in cause of flight.
Then let my squire lead hence thy horse: mine thou shalt guard, whilst I
(By thee advanc’d) assay the fight, that Hector’s self may try
If my lance dote with the defects that fail best minds in age,
Or find the palsy in my hands, that doth thy life engage.’
This noble Nestor did accept, and Diomed’s two friends,
Eurymedon that valour loves, and Sthenelus, ascends
Old Nestor’s coach. Of Diomed’s horse Nestor the charge sustains,
And Tydeus’ son took place of fight; Neleides held the reins,
And scourg’d the horse, who swiftly ran direct in Hector’s face,
Whom fierce Tydides bravely charg’d; but – he turn’d from the chace –
His javelin Eniopeus smit, mighty Thebaeus’ son,
And was great Hector’s charioteer; it through his breast did run,
Near to his pap; he fell to earth, back flew his frighted horse,
His strength and soul were both dissolv’d. Hector had deep remorse
Of his mishap, yet left he him, and for another sought;
Not long his steeds did want a guide, for straight good fortune brought
Bold Archeptolemus, whose life did from Iphytis spring:
He made him take the reins and mount. Then souls were set on wing,
Then high exploits were undergone, then Trojans in their walls
Had been infolded like meek lambs, had Jove wink’d at their falls –
Who hurl’d his horrid thunder forth, and made pale lightnings fly
Into the earth, before the horse that Nestor did apply.
A dreadful flash burnt through the air, that savour’d sulphur-like,
Which down before the chariot the dazzled horse did strike:
The fair reins fell from Nestor’s hand, who did in fear entreat
Renown’d Tydides into flight to turn his fury’s heat.
‘For know’st thou not,’ said he, ‘our aid is not supplied from Jove?
This day he will give fame to Troy; which, when it fits his love,
We shall enjoy: let no man tempt his unresisted will,
Though he exceed in gifts of strength, for he exceeds him still.’
‘Father’, replied the king, ‘ ’tis true; but both my heart and soul
Are most extremely griev’d to think how Hector will control
My valour with his vaunts in Troy, that I was terror-sick
With his approach: which when he boasts let earth devour me quick.’
‘Ah, warlike Tydeus son!’ said he, ‘what needless words are these?
Though Hector should report thee faint, and amorous of thy ease,
The Trojans, nor the Trojan wives, would never give him trust,
Whose youthful husbands thy free hand hath smother’d so in dust.’
This said, he turn’d his one-hoof’d horse to flight, and troop did take,
When Hector and his men with shouts did greedy pursuit make,
And pour’d on darts, that made air sigh; then Hector did exclaim:
‘O Tydeus’ son, the kings of Greece do most renown thy name
With highest place, feasts and full cups; who now will do thee shame.
Thou shalt be like a woman us’d, and they will say: “Depart,
Immartial minion, since to stand Hector thou hast no heart.”
Nor canst thou scale our turrets’ tops, nor lead the wives to fleet
Of valiant men, that wife-like fear’st my adverse charge to meet.’
This two ways mov’d him: still to fly, or turn his horse and fight.
Thrice thrust he forward to assault, and every time the fright
Of Jove’s fell thunder drave him back, which he propos’d for sign
(To show the change of victory) Trojans should victors shine.
Then Hector comforted his men: ‘All my adventurous friends,
Be men, and of your famous strength think of the honour’d ends.
I know benevolent Jupiter did by his beck profess
Conquest and high renown to me, and to the Greeks distress.
O fools, to raise such silly forts, not worth the least account,
Nor able to resist our force! With ease our horse may mount
Quite over all their hollow dike; but when their fleet I reach,
Let Memory to all the world a famous bonfire teach:
For I will all their ships inflame, with whose infestive smoke
(Fear-shrunk, and hidden near their keels) the conquer’d Greeks shall choke.’
Then cherish’d he his famous horse: ‘O Xanthus!’ now said he,
‘And thou Podargus, Aethon too, and Lampus, dear to me,
Make me some worthy recompense for so much choice of meat,
Giv’n you by fair Andromache, bread of the purest wheat,
And with it, for your drink, mix’d wine, to make ye wished cheer,
Still serving you before myself (her husband young and dear) –
Pursue, and use your swiftest speed, that we may take for prize
The shield of old Neleides, which Fame lifts to the skies,
Even to the handles telling it to be of massy gold;
And from the shoulders let us take of Diomed the bold,
The royal curace Vulcan wrought with art so exquisite.
These if we make our sacred spoil, I doubt not but this night
Ev’n to their navy to enforce the Greeks’ unturned flight.’
This Juno took in high disdain, and made Olympus shake,
As she but stirr’d within her throne; and thus to Neptune spake:
‘O Neptune, what a spite is this? Thou god so huge in power,
Afflicts it not thy honour’d heart, to see rude spoil devour
These Greeks that have in Helice and Aege off’red thee
So many and so wealthy gifts? Let them the victors be.
If we, that are the aids of Greece, would beat home these of Troy,
And hinder broad-ey’d Jove’s proud will, it would abate his joy.’
He, angry, told her she was rash, and he would not be one
Of all the rest should strive with Jove, whose power was match’d by none.
Whiles they conferr’d thus, all the space the trench contain’d before
(From that part of the fort that flank’d the navy-anchoring shore)
Was fill’d with horse and targeteers, who there for refuge came,
By Mars-swift Hector’s power engaged, Jove gave his strength the same:
And he with spoilful fire had burn’d the fleet, if Juno’s grace
Had not inspir’d the king himself to run from place to place,
And stir up every soldier’s power to some illustrious deed.
First visiting their leaders’ tents, his ample purple weed
He wore, to show all who he was; and did his station take
At wise Ulysses’ sable barks, that did the battle make
Of all the fleet, from whence his speech might with more ease be driv’n
To Ajax’ and Achilles’ ships, to whose chief charge were giv’n
The vanguard and the rearguard both – both for their force of hand
And trusty bosoms. There arriv’d, thus urg’d he to withstand
Th’ insulting Trojans: ‘O what shame, ye empty-hearted lords,
Is this to your admired forms! Where are your glorious words,
In Lemnos vaunting you the best of all the Grecian host?
“We are the strongest men,” ye said, “we will command the most,
Eating most flesh of high-horn’d beeves, and drinking cups full crown’d,
And every man a hundred foes – two hundred – will confound!”
Now all our strength, dar’d to our worst, one Hector cannot tame,
Who presently with horrid fire will all our fleet inflame.
O Father Jove, hath ever yet thy most unsuffer’d hand
Afflicted with such spoil of souls the king of any land,
And taken so much fame from him – when I did never fail
(Since under most unhappy stars this fleet was under sail)
Thy glorious altars, I protest, but above all the gods
Have burnt fat thighs of beeves to thee, and pray’d to raze th’ abodes
Of rape-defending Ilion? Yet grant, almighty Jove,
One favour – that we may at least with life from hence remove,
Not under such inglorious hands the hands of death employ,
And where Troy should be stoop’d by Greece, let Greece fall under Troy.’
To this ev’n weeping king did Jove remorseful audience give,
And shook great heav’n to him for sign his men and he should live.
Then quickly cast he off his hawk, the eagle prince of air,
That perfects his unspotted vows; who seiz’d in her repair
A sucking hind calf, which she truss’d in her enforcive seres,
And by Jove’s altar let it fall, amongst th’ amazed peers,
Where the religious Achive kings with sacrifice did please
The author of all oracles, divine Saturnides.
Now when they knew the bird of Jove, they turn’d courageous head.
When none (though many kings put on) could make his vaunt, he led
Tydides to renew’d assault, or issu’d first the dike,
Or first did fight: but far the first, stone dead his lance did strike
Arm’d Agelaus, by descent surnam’d Phradmonides;
He turn’d his ready horse to flight, and Diomed’s lance did seize
His back betwixt his shoulder-blades, and look’d out at his breast;
He fell, and his arms rang his fall. Th’ Atrides next address’d
Themselves to fight; th’ Ajaces next, with vehement strength endued;
Idomeneus, and his friend stout Merion, next pursued;
And after these Euripelus, Evemon’s honour’d race:
The ninth, with backward, wreathed bow, had little Teucer place;
He still fought under Ajax’ shield, who sometimes held it by,
And then he look’d his object out, and let his arrow fly;
And whomsoever, in the press he wounded, him he slew,
Then under Ajax’ seven-fold shield he presently withdrew:
He far’d like an unhappy child, that doth to mother run
For succour, when he knows full well he some shrewd turn hath done.
What Trojans then were to their deaths by Teucer’s shafts impress’d?
Hapless Orsylochus was first, Ormenus, Ophelest,
Detor, and hardy Cronius, and Lycophon divine;
And Amopaon that did spring from Polyemon’s line,
And Menalippus: all, on heaps, he tumbled to the ground.
The king rejoic’d to see his shafts the Phrygian ranks confound;
Who straight came near, and spake to him: ‘O Teucer, lovely man,
Strike still so sure, and be a gra
ce to every Grecian,
And to thy father Telamon, who took thee kindly home
(Although not by his wife his son) and gave thee foster room,
Ev’n from thy childhood; then to him, though far from hence remov’d,
Make good fame reach, and to thyself I vow what shall be prov’d:
If he that dreadful Aegis bears, and Pallas, grant to me
Th’ expugnance of well-builded Troy, I first will honour thee
Next to myself with some rich gift, and put it in thy hand:
A three-foot vessel, that for grace in sacred fanes doth stand,
Or two horse and a chariot, or else a lovely dame,
That may ascend on bed with thee, and amplify thy name.’
Teucer right nobly answer’d him: ‘Why, most illustrious king,
I being thus forward of myself, dost thou adjoin a sting?
Without which, all the power I have I cease not to employ:
For from the place where we repuls’d the Trojans towards Troy,
I all the purple field have strew’d with one or other slain:
Eight shafts I shot, with long steel heads, of which not one in vain;
All were in youthful bodies fix’d, well skill’d in war’s constraint.
Yet this wild dog, with all my aim, I have no power to taint.’
This said, another arrow forth from his stiff string he sent
At Hector, whom he long’d to wound, but still amiss it went:
His shaft smit fair Gorgythion, of Priam’s princely race,
Who in Aepina was brought forth (a famous town in Thrace)
By Castianira, that for form was like celestial breed.
And as a crimson poppy flower, surcharged with his seed,
And vernal humours failing thick, declines his heavy brow,
So, of one side, his helmet’s weight his fainting head did bow.
Yet Teucer would another shaft at Hector’s life dispose,
So fain he such a mark would hit, but still beside it goes;
Apollo did avert the shaft: but Hector’s charioteer,
Bold Archeptolemus, he smit, as he was rushing near
To make the fight: to earth he fell, his swift horse back did fly,
And there were both his strength and soul exil’d eternally.
Huge grief for Hector’s slaughter’d friend pinch’d in his mighty mind:
Yet was he forc’d to leave him there, and his void place resign’d
