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The Iliad of Homer

Page 63

by Richmond Lattimore


  but glorious Hektor kept his eyes on him, and avoided it,

  275 for he dropped, watchful, to his knee, and the bronze spear flew over his shoulder

  and stuck in the ground, but Pallas Athene snatched it, and gave it

  back to Achilleus, unseen by Hektor shepherd of the people.

  But now Hektor spoke out to the blameless son of Peleus:

  “You missed; and it was not, O Achilleus like the immortals,

  280 from Zeus that you knew my destiny; but you thought so; or rather

  you are someone clever in speech and spoke to swindle me,

  to make me afraid of you and forget my valor and war strength.

  You will not stick your spear in my back as I run away from you

  but drive it into my chest as I storm straight in against you;

  285 if the god gives you that; and now look out for my brazen

  spear. I wish it might be taken full length in your body.

  And indeed the war would be a lighter thing for the Trojans

  if you were dead, seeing that you are their greatest affliction.”

  So he spoke, and balanced the spear far shadowed, and threw it,

  290 and struck the middle of Peleïdes’ shield, nor missed it,

  but the spear was driven far back from the shield, and Hektor was angered

  because his swift weapon had been loosed from his hand in a vain cast.

  He stood discouraged, and had no other ash spear; but lifting

  his voice he called aloud on Deïphobos of the pale shield,

  295 and asked him for a long spear, but Deïphobos was not near him.

  And Hektor knew the truth inside his heart, and spoke aloud:

  “No use. Here at last the gods have summoned me deathward.

  I thought Deïphobos the hero was here close beside me,

  but he is behind the wall and it was Athene cheating me,

  300 and now evil death is close to me, and no longer far away,

  and there is no way out. So it must long since have been pleasing

  to Zeus, and Zeus’ son who strikes from afar, this way; though before this

  they defended me gladly. But now my death is upon me.

  Let me at least not die without a struggle, inglorious,

  305 but do some big thing first, that men to come shall know of it.”

  So he spoke, and pulling out the sharp sword that was slung

  at the hollow of his side, huge and heavy, and gathering

  himself together, he made his swoop, like a high-flown eagle

  who launches himself out of the murk of the clouds on the flat land

  310 to catch away a tender lamb or a shivering hare; so

  Hektor made his swoop, swinging his sharp sword, and Achilleus

  charged, the heart within him loaded with savage fury.

  In front of his chest the beautiful elaborate great shield

  covered him, and with the glittering helm with four horns

  315 he nodded; the lovely golden fringes were shaken about it

  which Hephaistos had driven close along the horn of the helmet.

  And as a star moves among stars in the night’s darkening,

  Hesper, who is the fairest star who stands in the sky, such

  was the shining from the pointed spear Achilleus was shaking

  320 in his right hand with evil intention toward brilliant Hektor.

  He was eyeing Hektor’s splendid body, to see where it might best

  give way, but all the rest of the skin was held in the armor,

  brazen and splendid, he stripped when he cut down the strength of Patroklos;

  yet showed where the collar-bones hold the neck from the shoulders,

  325 the throat, where death of the soul comes most swiftly; in this place

  brilliant Achilleus drove the spear as he came on in fury,

  and clean through the soft part of the neck the spearpoint was driven.

  Yet the ash spear heavy with bronze did not sever the windpipe,

  so that Hektor could still make exchange of words spoken.

  330 But he dropped in the dust, and brilliant Achilleus vaunted above him:

  “Hektor, surely you thought as you killed Patroklos you would be

  safe, and since I was far away you thought nothing of me,

  O fool, for an avenger was left, far greater than he was,

  behind him and away by the hollow ships. And it was I;

  335 and I have broken your strength; on you the dogs and the vultures

  shall feed and foully rip you; the Achaians will bury Patroklos.”

  In his weakness Hektor of the shining helm spoke to him:

  “I entreat you, by your life, by your knees, by your parents,

  do not let the dogs feed on me by the ships of the Achaians,

  340 but take yourself the bronze and gold that are there in abundance,

  those gifts that my father and the lady my mother will give you,

  and give my body to be taken home again, so that the Trojans

  and the wives of the Trojans may give me in death my rite of burning.”

  But looking darkly at him swift-footed Achilleus answered:

  340 “No more entreating of me, you dog, by knees or parents.

  I wish only that my spirit and fury would drive me

  to hack your meat away and eat it raw for the things that

  you have done to me. So there is no one who can hold the dogs off

  from your head, not if they bring here and set before me ten times

  350 and twenty times the ransom, and promise more in addition,

  not if Priam son of Dardanos should offer to weigh out

  your bulk in gold; not even so shall the lady your mother

  who herself bore you lay you on the death-bed and mourn you:

  no, but the dogs and the birds will have you all for their feasting.”

  355 Then, dying, Hektor of the shining helmet spoke to him:

  “I know you well as I look upon you; I know that I could not

  persuade you, since indeed in your breast is a heart of iron.

  Be careful now; for I might be made into the gods’ curse

  upon you, on that day when Paris and Phoibos Apollo

  360 destroy you in the Skaian gates, for all your valor.”

  He spoke, and as he spoke the end of death closed in upon him,

  and the soul fluttering free of the limbs went down into Death’s house

  mourning her destiny, leaving youth and manhood behind her.

  Now though he was a dead man brilliant Achilleus spoke to him:

  365 “Die: and I will take my own death at whatever time

  Zeus and the rest of the immortals choose to accomplish it.”

  He spoke, and pulled the brazen spear from the body, and laid it

  on one side, and stripped away from the shoulders the bloody

  armor. And the other sons of the Achaians came running about him,

  370 and gazed upon the stature and on the imposing beauty

  of Hektor; and none stood beside him who did not stab him;

  and thus they would speak one to another, each looking at his neighbor:

  “See now, Hektor is much softer to handle than he was

  when he set the ships ablaze with the burning firebrand.”

  375 So as they stood beside him they would speak, and stab him.

  But now, when he had despoiled the body, swift-footed brilliant

  Achilleus stood among the Achaians and addressed them in winged words:

  “Friends, who are leaders of the Argives and keep their counsel:

  since the gods have granted me the killing of this man

  380 who has done us much damage, such as not all the others together

  have done, come, let us go in armor about the city

  to see if we can find out what purpose is in the Trojans,

  whether they will abandon their high city, n
ow that this man

  has fallen, or are minded to stay, though Hektor lives no longer.

  385 Yet still, why does the heart within me debate on these things?

  There is a dead man who lies by the ships, unwept, unburied:

  Patroklos: and I will not forget him, never so long as

  I remain among the living and my knees have their spring beneath me.

  And though the dead forget the dead in the house of Hades,

  390 even there I shall still remember my beloved companion.

  But now, you young men of the Achaians, let us go back, singing

  a victory song, to our hollow ships; and take this with us.

  We have won ourselves enormous fame; we have killed the great Hektor

  whom the Trojans glorified as if he were a god in their city.”

  395 He spoke, and now thought of shameful treatment for glorious Hektor.

  In both of his feet at the back he made holes by the tendons

  in the space between ankle and heel, and drew thongs of ox-hide through them,

  and fastened them to the chariot so as to let the head drag,

  and mounted the chariot, and lifted the glorious armor inside it,

  400 then whipped the horses to a run, and they winged their way unreluctant.

  A cloud of dust rose where Hektor was dragged, his dark hair was falling

  about him, and all that head that was once so handsome was tumbled

  in the dust; since by this time Zeus had given him over

  to his enemies, to be defiled in the land of his fathers.

  405 So all his head was dragged in the dust; and now his mother

  tore out her hair, and threw the shining veil far from her

  and raised a great wail as she looked upon her son; and his father

  beloved groaned pitifully, and all his people about him

  were taken with wailing and lamentation all through the city.

  410 It was most like what would have happened, if all lowering

  Ilion had been burning top to bottom in fire.

  His people could scarcely keep the old man in his impatience

  from storming out of the Dardanian gates; he implored them

  all, and wallowed in the muck before them calling on each man

  415 and naming him by his name: “Give way, dear friends,

  and let me alone though you care for me, leave me to go out

  from the city and make my way to the ships of the Achaians.

  I must be suppliant to this man, who is harsh and violent,

  and he might have respect for my age and take pity upon it

  420 since I am old, and his father also is old, as I am,

  Peleus, who begot and reared him to be an affliction

  on the Trojans. He has given us most sorrow, beyond all others,

  such is the number of my flowering sons he has cut down.

  But for all of these I mourn not so much, in spite of my sorrow,

  425 as for one, Hektor, and the sharp grief for him will carry me downward

  into Death’s house. I wish he had died in my arms, for that way

  we two, I myself and his mother who bore him unhappy,

  might so have glutted ourselves with weeping for him and mourning.”

  So he spoke, in tears, and beside him mourned the citizens.

  430 But for the women of Troy Hekabē led out the thronging

  chant of sorrow: “Child, I am wretched. What shall my life be

  in my sorrows, now you are dead, who by day and in the night

  were my glory in the town, and to all of the Trojans

  and the women of Troy a blessing throughout their city. They adored you

  435 as if you were a god, since in truth you were their high honor

  while you lived. Now death and fate have closed in upon you.”

  So she spoke in tears but the wife of Hektor had not yet

  heard: for no sure messenger had come to her and told her

  how her husband had held his ground there outside the gates;

  440 but she was weaving a web in the inner room of the high house,

  a red folding robe, and inworking elaborate figures.

  She called out through the house to her lovely-haired handmaidens

  to set a great cauldron over the fire, so that there would be

  hot water for Hektor’s bath as he came back out of the fighting;

  445 poor innocent, nor knew how, far from waters for bathing,

  Pallas Athene had cut him down at the hands of Achilleus.

  She heard from the great bastion the noise of mourning and sorrow.

  Her limbs spun, and the shuttle dropped from her hand to the ground. Then

  she called aloud to her lovely-haired handmaidens: “Come here.

  450 Two of you come with me, so I can see what has happened.

  I heard the voice of Hektor’s honored mother; within me

  my own heart rising beats in my mouth, my limbs under me

  are frozen. Surely some evil is near for the children of Priam.

  May what I say come never close to my ear; yet dreadfully

  455 I fear that great Achilleus might have cut off bold Hektor

  alone, away from the city, and be driving him into the flat land,

  might put an end to that bitter pride of courage, that always

  was on him, since he would never stay back where the men were in numbers

  but break far out in front, and give way in his fury to no man.”

  460 So she spoke, and ran out of the house like a raving woman

  with pulsing heart, and her two handmaidens went along with her.

  But when she came to the bastion and where the men were gathered

  she stopped, staring, on the wall; and she saw him

  being dragged in front of the city, and the running horses

  465 dragged him at random toward the hollow ships of the Achaians.

  The darkness of night misted over the eyes of Andromachē.

  She fell backward, and gasped the life breath from her, and far off

  threw from her head the shining gear that ordered her headdress,

  the diadem and the cap, and the holding-band woven together,

  470 and the circlet, which Aphrodite the golden once had given her

  on that day when Hektor of the shining helmet led her forth

  from the house of Eëtion, and gave numberless gifts to win her.

  And about her stood thronging her husband’s sisters and the wives of his brothers

  and these, in her despair for death, held her up among them.

  475 But she, when she breathed again and the life was gathered back into her,

  lifted her voice among the women of Troy in mourning:

  “Hektor, I grieve for you. You and I were born to a single

  destiny, you in Troy in the house of Priam, and I

  in Thebe, underneath the timbered mountain of Plakos

  480 in the house of Eëtion, who cared for me when I was little,

  ill-fated he, I ill-starred. I wish he had never begotten me.

  Now you go down to the house of Death in the secret places

  of the earth, and left me here behind in the sorrow of mourning,

  a widow in your house, and the boy is only a baby

  485 who was born to you and me, the unfortunate. You cannot help him,

  Hektor, anymore, since you are dead. Nor can he help you.

  Though he escape the attack of the Achaians with all its sorrows,

  yet all his days for your sake there will be hard work for him

  and sorrows, for others will take his lands away from him. The day

  490 of bereavement leaves a child with no agemates to befriend him.

  He bows his head before every man, his cheeks are bewept, he

  goes, needy, a boy among his father’s companions,

  and tugs at this man by the mantle, that man by the tunic, />
  and they pity him, and one gives him a tiny drink from a goblet,

  495 enough to moisten his lips, not enough to moisten his palate.

  But one whose parents are living beats him out of the banquet

  hitting him with his fists and in words also abuses him:

  ‘Get out, you! Your father is not dining among us.’

  And the boy goes away in tears to his widowed mother,

  500 Astyanax, who in days before on the knees of his father

  would eat only the marrow or the flesh of sheep that was fattest.

  And when sleep would come upon him and he was done with his playing,

  he would go to sleep in a bed, in the arms of his nurse, in a soft

  bed, with his heart given all its fill of luxury.

  505 Now, with his dear father gone, he has much to suffer:

  he, whom the Trojans have called Astyanax, lord of the city,

  since it was you alone who defended the gates and the long walls.

  But now, beside the curving ships, far away from your parents,

  the writhing worms will feed, when the dogs have had enough of you,

  510 on your naked corpse, though in your house there is clothing laid up

  that is fine-textured and pleasant, wrought by the hands of women.

  But all of these I will burn up in the fire’s blazing,

  no use to you, since you will never be laid away in them;

  but in your honor, from the men of Troy and the Trojan women.”

  515 So she spoke, in tears; and the women joined in her mourning.

  BOOK TWENTY-THREE

  So they were mourning through the city. Meanwhile, the Achaians,

  after they had made their way back to their ships and the Hellespont,

  scattered, the rest of them, each man to his own ship. Except

  Achilleus would not allow the Myrmidons to be scattered,

  5 but called out to his companions whose delight was in battle:

  “Myrmidons, you of the fast horses, my steadfast companions,

  we must not yet slip free of the chariots our single-foot horses,

  but with these very horses and chariots we must drive close up

  to Patroklos and mourn him, since such is the privilege of the perished.

  10 Then, when we have taken full satisfaction from the sorrowful

  dirge, we shall set our horses free, and all of us eat here.”

  He spoke, and all of them assembled moaned, and Achilleus led them.

  Three times, mourning, they drove their horses with flowing manes about

  the body, and among them Thetis stirred the passion for weeping.

 

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