The Iliad of Homer

by Richmond Lattimore

  and there shall be a dawn or an afternoon or a noontime

  when some man in the fighting will take the life from me also

  either with a spearcast or an arrow flown from the bowstring.”

  So he spoke, and in the other the knees and the inward

  115 heart went slack. He let go of the spear and sat back, spreading

  wide both hands; but Achilleus drawing his sharp sword struck him

  beside the neck at the collar-bone, and the double-edged sword

  plunged full length inside. He dropped to the ground, face downward,

  and lay at length, and the black blood flowed, and the ground was soaked with it.

  120 Achilleus caught him by the foot and slung him into the river

  to drift, and spoke winged words of vaunting derision over him:

  “Lie there now among the fish, who will lick the blood away

  from your wound, and care nothing for you, nor will your mother

  lay you on the death-bed and mourn over you, but Skamandros

  125 will carry you spinning down to the wide bend of the salt water.

  And a fish will break a ripple shuddering dark on the water

  as he rises to feed upon the shining fat of Lykaon.

  Die on, all; till we come to the city of sacred Ilion,

  you in flight and I killing you from behind; and there will not

  130 be any rescue for you from your silvery-whirled strong-running

  river, for all the numbers of bulls you dedicate to it

  and drown single-foot horses alive in its eddies. And yet

  even so, die all an evil death, till all of you

  pay for the death of Patroklos and the slaughter of the Achaians

  135 whom you killed beside the running ships, when I was not with them.”

  He spoke, but the anger was rising now in the heart of the river

  and he pondered in his heart as to how he could stop the labor

  of brilliant Achilleus, and fend destruction away from the Trojans.

  And now with the spear far shadowing in his hands Peleus’ son

  140 was springing, furious to kill him, on Asteropaios

  the son of Pelegon; who in turn was born of the wide-running river

  Axios, and of Periboia, eldest of the daughters

  of Akessamenos, for she lay in love with the deep-whirling river.

  Against this man Achilleus rose up, and he came out to face him

  145 from the river, holding two spears, for Xanthos had inspired valor

  into his heart, in anger for the slaughter of the young men

  whom Achilleus had slain beside his waters and taken no pity.

  Now as these two in their advance encountered together

  first of the two to speak was swift-footed brilliant Achilleus:

  150 “What man are you, and whence, who dare stand up to my onset?

  Since unhappy are those whose sons match warcraft against me.”

  Then in turn the glorious son of Pelegon answered him:

  “High-hearted son of Peleus, why ask of my generation?

  I am from Paionia far away, where the soil is generous,

  155 and lead the men of Paionia with long spears; and this for me

  is the eleventh day since I arrived in Ilion.

  For my generation, it is from the broad waters of Axios,

  Axios, who floods the land with the loveliest waters.

  His son was Pelegon the spear-famed; but men say I am Pelegon’s

  160 son; now, glorious Achilleus, we shall fight together.”

  So he spoke, challenging, and brilliant Achilleus uplifted

  the Pelian ash spear, but the warrior Asteropaios

  threw with both spears at the same time, being ambidextrous.

  With the one spear he hit the shield but could not altogether

  165 break through the shield, since the gold stayed it that the god had given.

  With the other spear he struck Achilleus on the right forearm

  and grazed it so that the blood gushed out in a dark cloud, and the spear

  overpassed him and fixed in the ground, straining to reach his body.

  Throwing second Achilleus let fly at Asteropaios

  170 with the straight-flying ash spear in a fury to kill him,

  but missed his man and hit the high bank, so that the ash spear

  was driven half its length and stuck in the bank of the river.

  But the son of Peleus, drawing from beside his thigh the sharp sword,

  sprang upon him in fury; and Asteropaios could not

  175 with his heavy hand wrench Achilleus’ ash spear free of the river-bank.

  Three times he struggled straining to wrench it clear, and three times

  gave over the effort, and now for the fourth time he was bending

  over the ash spear of Aiakides, trying to break it,

  but before this Achilleus took his life with the sword from close up

  180 for he struck him in the belly next the navel, and all his guts poured

  out on the ground, and a mist of darkness closed over both eyes

  as he gasped life out, and springing upon his chest Achilleus

  stripped his armor away and spoke in triumph above him:

  “Lie so: it is hard even for those sprung of a river

  185 to fight against the children of Kronos, whose strength is almighty.

  You said you were of the generation of the wide-running river,

  but I claim that I am of the generation of great Zeus.

  The man is my father who is lord over many Myrmidons,

  Peleus, Aiakos’ son, but Zeus was the father of Aiakos.

  190 And as Zeus is stronger than rivers that run to the sea, so

  the generation of Zeus is made stronger than that of a river.

  For here is a great river beside you, if he were able

  to help; but it is not possible to fight Zeus, son of Kronos.

  Not powerful Acheloios matches his strength against Zeus,

  195 not the enormous strength of Ocean with his deep-running waters,

  Ocean, from whom all rivers are and the entire sea

  and all springs and all deep wells have their waters of him, yet

  even Ocean is afraid of the lightning of great Zeus

  and the dangerous thunderbolt when it breaks from the sky crashing.”

  200 So he spoke, and pulled the bronze spear free of the river bluff

  and left him there, when he had torn the heart of life from him,

  sprawled in the sands and drenched in the dark water. And about

  Asteropaios the eels and the other fish were busy

  tearing him and nibbling the fat that lay by his kidneys.

  205 But Achilleus went on after the Paionians crested with horse-hair

  who had scattered in fear along the banks of the eddying river

  when they had seen their greatest man in the strong encounter

  gone down by force under the sword and the hands of Peleïdes.

  There he killed Thersilochos and Astypylos and Mydon,

  210 Mnesos and Thrasios, and Ainios and Ophelestes.

  Now swift Achilleus would have killed even more Paionians

  except that the deep-whirling river spoke to him in anger

  and in mortal likeness, and the voice rose from the depth of the eddies:

  “O Achilleus, your strength is greater, your acts more violent

  215 than all men’s; since always the very gods are guarding you.

  If the son of Kronos has given all Trojans to your destruction,

  drive them at least out of me to the plain, and there work your havoc.

  For the loveliness of my waters is crammed with corpses, I cannot

  find a channel to cast my waters into the bright sea

  220 since I am congested with the dead men you kill so brutally.

  Let me alone, then; lord of the people, I am confoun
ded.”

  Then in answer to him spoke Achilleus of the swift feet:

  “All this, illustrious Skamandros, shall be as you order.

  But I will not leave off my killing of the proud Trojans

  225 until I have penned them inside their city, and attempted Hektor

  strength against strength, until he has killed me or I have killed him.”

  He spoke, and like something more than mortal swept down on the Trojans.

  And now the deep-whirling river called aloud to Apollo:

  “Shame, lord of the silver bow, Zeus’ son; you have not kept

  230 the counsels of Kronion, who very strongly ordered you

  to stand by the Trojans and defend them, until the sun setting

  at last goes down and darkens all the generous ploughland.”

  He spoke: and spear-famed Achilleus leapt into the middle water

  with a spring from the bluff, but the river in a boiling surge was upon him

  235 and rose making turbulent all his waters, and pushed off

  the many dead men whom Achilleus had killed piled in abundance

  in the stream; these, bellowing like a bull, he shoved out

  on the dry land, but saved the living in the sweet waters

  hiding them under the huge depths of the whirling current.

  240 And about Achilleus in his confusion a dangerous wave rose

  up, and beat against his shield and pushed it. He could not

  brace himself with his feet, but caught with his hands at an elm tree

  tall and strong grown, but this uptorn by the roots and tumbling

  ripped away the whole cliff and with its dense tangle of roots stopped

  245 the run of the lovely current and fallen full length in the water

  dammed the very stream. Achilleus uprising out of the whirlpool

  made a dash to get to the plain in the speed of his quick feet

  in fear, but the great god would not let him be, but rose on him

  in a darkening edge of water, minded to stop the labor

  250 of brilliant Achilleus and fend destruction away from the Trojans.

  The son of Peleus sprang away the length of a spearcast

  running with the speed of the black eagle, the marauder

  who is at once the strongest of flying things and the swift est.

  In the likeness of this he sped away, on his chest the bronze armor

  255 clashed terribly, and bending away to escape from the river

  he fled, but the river came streaming after him in huge noise.

  And as a man running a channel from a spring of dark water

  guides the run of the water among his plants and his gardens

  with a mattock in his hand and knocks down the blocks in the channel;

  260 in the rush of the water all the pebbles beneath are torn loose

  from place, and the water that has been dripping suddenly jets on

  in a steep place and goes too fast even for the man who guides it;

  so always the crest of the river was overtaking Achilleus

  for all his speed of foot, since gods are stronger than mortals.

  265 And every time swift-footed brilliant Achilleus would begin

  to turn and stand and fight the river, and try to discover

  if all the gods who hold the wide heaven were after him, every

  time again the enormous wave of the sky-fed river

  would strike his shoulders from above. He tried, in his desperation,

  270 to keep a high spring with his feet, but the river was wearing his knees out

  as it ran fiercely beneath him and cut the ground from under

  his feet. Peleïdes groaned aloud, gazing into the wide sky:

  “Father Zeus, no god could endure to save me from the river

  who am so pitiful. And what then shall become of me’?

  275 It is not so much any other Uranian god who has done this

  but my own mother who beguiled me with falsehoods, who told me

  that underneath the battlements of the armored Trojans

  I should be destroyed by the flying shafts of Apollo.

  I wish now Hektor had killed me, the greatest man grown in this place.

  280 A brave man would have been the slayer, as the slain was a brave man.

  But now this is a dismal death I am doomed to be caught in,

  trapped in a big river as if I were a boy and a swineherd

  swept away by a torrent when he tries to cross in a rainstorm.”

  So he spoke, and Poseidon and Athene swiftly came near him

  285 and stood beside him with their shapes in the likeness of mortals

  and caught him hand by hand and spoke to him in assurance.

  First of them to speak was the shaker of the earth, Poseidon.

  “Do not be afraid, son of Peleus, nor be so anxious,

  such are we two of the gods who stand beside you to help you,

  290 by the consent of Zeus, myself and Pallas Athene.

  Thereby it is not your destiny to be killed by the river,

  but he shall be presently stopped, and you yourself shall behold it.

  “But we also have close counsel to give you, if you will believe us.

  Do not let stay your hands from the collision of battle

  295 until you have penned the people of Troy, those who escape you,

  inside the famed wall of Ilion. Then when you have taken Hektor’s life

  go back again to the ships. We grant you the winning of glory.”

  So speaking the two went back again among the immortals,

  but Achilleus went on, and the urgency of the gods strongly stirred him,

  300 into the plain. But the river filled with an outrush of water

  and masses of splendid armor from the young men who had perished

  floated there, and their bodies, but against the hard drive of the river

  straight on he kept a high spring with his feet, and the river wide running

  could not stop him now, since he was given great strength by Athene.

  305 But Skamandros did not either abate his fury, but all the more

  raged at Peleion, and high uplifting the wave of his waters

  gathered it to a crest, and called aloud upon Simoeis:

  “Beloved brother, let even the two of us join to hold back

  the strength of a man, since presently he will storm the great city

  310 of lord Priam. The Trojans cannot stand up to him in battle.

  But help me beat him off with all speed, and make full your currents

  with water from your springs, and rouse up all of your torrents

  and make a big wave rear up and wake the heavy confusion

  and sound of timbers and stones, so we can stop this savage man

  315 who is now in his strength and rages in fury like the immortals.

  For I say that his strength will not be enough for him nor his beauty

  nor his arms in their splendor, which somewhere deep down under the waters

  shall lie folded under the mud; and I will whelm his own body

  deep, and pile it over with abundance of sands and rubble

  320 numberless, nor shall the Achaians know where to look for

  his bones to gather them, such ruin will I pile over him.

  And there shall his monument be made, and he will have no need

  of any funeral mound to be buried in by the Achaians.”

  He spoke, and rose against Achilleus, turbulent, boiling

  325 to a crest, muttering in foam and blood and dead bodies

  until the purple wave of the river fed from the bright sky

  lifted high and caught in its waters the son of Peleus.

  But Hera, greatly fearing for Achilleus, cried in a loud voice

  lest he be swept away in the huge deep-eddying river,

  330 and at once thereafter appealed to her own dear son, Hephaistos:

>   “Rise up, god of the dragging feet, my child; for we believe

  that whirling Xanthos would be fit antagonist for you in battle.

  Go now quickly to the help of Achilleus, make shine a great flame

  while I raise up and bring in out of the sea a troublesome

  335 storm of the west wind and the whitening south wind, a storm

  that will burn the heads of the Trojans and burn their armor

  carrying the evil flame, while you by the banks of Xanthos

  set fire to the trees and throw fire on the river himself, and do not

  by any means let him turn you with winning words or revilements.

  340 Do not let your fury be stopped until such time as

  I lift my voice and cry to you. Then stay your weariless burning.”

  Hera spoke, and Hephaistos set on them an inhuman fire.

  First he kindled a fire in the plain and burned the numerous

  corpses that lay there in abundance, slain by Achilleus,

  345 and all the plain was parched and the shining water was straitened.

  As when the north wind of autumn suddenly makes dry

  a garden freshly watered and makes glad the man who is tending it,

  so the entire flat land was dried up with Hephaistos burning

  the dead bodies. Then he turned his flame in its shining

  350 into the river. The elms burned, the willows and tamarisks,

  the clover burned and the rushes and the galingale, all those

  plants that grew in abundance by the lovely stream of the river.

  The eels were suffering and the fish in the whirl of the water

  who leaped out along the lovely waters in every direction

  355 in affliction under the hot blast of resourceful Hephaistos.

  The strength of the river was burning away; he gave voice and called out

  by name: “Hephaistos, not one of the gods could stand up against you.

  I for one could not fight the flame of a fire like this one.

  Leave your attack. Brilliant Achilleus can capture the city

  360 of the Trojans, now, for me. What have I to do with this quarrel?”

  He spoke, blazing with fire, and his lovely waters were seething.

  And as a cauldron that is propped over a great fire boils up

  dancing on its whole circle with dry sticks burning beneath it

  as it melts down the fat of swine made tender, so Xanthos’

  365 lovely streams were burned with the fire, and the water was boiling

  and would not flow along but was stopped under stress of the hot blast

  strongly blown by resourceful Hephaistos. And now the river