by Homer
HEPHAESTUS rescues Idaeus
(20) It hit Phegeus in the middle of the chest and knocked him out of the superb chariot, which Idaeus then also deserted by leaping out of it, not daring to stand over his brother’s body. And black destiny would have got him too, if Hephaestus had not come to the rescue and wrapped him in night, saving him so that his aged priest Dares, their father, might not be utterly broken by grief. Great-hearted Diomedes drove the men’s horses off and told his followers to take them back to the hollow ships.
ATHENE leads ARES out of battle
When the great-hearted Trojans saw that one of Dares’ sons had fled for his life and the other been killed beside the chariot, panic threatened. Then grey-eyed Athene took the wild War-god Ares by the (30) hand and said:
‘Ares, murderous Ares, butcher of men and sacker of towns, is it not time for us to let the Trojans and Greeks fight it out and leave it to Father Zeus to decide who will win the glory? Let us two leave the field of battle before we make him angry.’
So she spoke, led wild Ares out of the fight and made him sit down on the high bank of the River Scamander.
Greeks kill six Trojans
As a result, the Greeks pushed back the Trojans and each of their leaders killed his man. First Agamemnon lord of men hurled great Odius, leader of the (40) Halizones, out of his chariot. Odius was the first to turn, and Agamemnon stabbed him with his spear in the middle of the back between his shoulders and drove it on through his chest. He thudded to the ground, and his armour clattered about him.
Next Idomeneus killed Phaestus, who had come from fertile Tarne in Maeonia. Just as Phaestus was getting into his chariot the great spearman Idomeneus pierced his right shoulder with his long spear. Phaestus crashed out of the chariot and hateful darkness engulfed him. Idomeneus’ followers then stripped his body.
Then Menelaus son of Atreus caught the brilliant hunter (50) Scamandrius with his sharp spear. Scamandrius was a great man for the chase, who had been taught by the goddess Artemis herself how to bring down any kind of wild game that lives in the mountain forests. But Artemis who delights in arrows was of no help to him now, nor were the long shots that had won him fame. As Scamandrius fled before him, the great spearman Menelaus son of Atreus stabbed him with his spear in the middle of the back between his shoulders and drove it on through his chest. He crashed down on his face, and his armour clattered about him.
Next, Meriones killed Phereclus son of Tecton, Harmon’s (60) son, who could turn his hand to the most intricate kind of work. Pallas Athene had no greater favourite. It was he who had built for Paris those balanced ships that had started all the trouble and proved such a curse to the whole Trojan people – and eventually to himself, since he knew nothing of the oracles of the gods. Meriones pursued him and, when he caught him, hit him in the right buttock. The spear-head passed clean through to the bladder under the pubic bone. He dropped to his knees with a scream, and death enveloped him.
(70) Then Meges killed Pedaeus, an illegitimate son of Antenor’s whom bright Theano, Antenor’s wife, had conscientiously brought up like a child of her own to please her husband. The great spearman Meges caught this man up and hit him with his sharp spear on the nape of the head. The point came through between his teeth and cut out the root of his tongue. He collapsed in the dust and bit the cold bronze with his teeth.
Meanwhile Eurypylus killed godlike Hypsenor, who served as priest to the River-god Scamander and was honoured like (80) a god by the people. As Hypsenor fled before him, glorious Eurypylus closed in at full tilt and slashed at his shoulder with his sword. His great arm was shorn off and fell bleeding to the ground. Inexorable destiny and purple death closed his eyes.
So they fought it out in the heat of battle. As for Diomedes himself, you could not have told to which army, Trojan or Greek, he belonged. He stormed across the plain like a winter torrent in spate, bursting dykes as it races along; when the skies (90) open, neither close-packed embankments nor walls built to protect fertile gardens can contain its sudden onslaught, and far and wide it flattens the good work of industrious farmers – so the dense ranks of the Trojans were thrown into confusion by Diomedes, unable for all their numbers to withstand him.
Pandarus wounds Diomedes
But when Pandarus, Lycaon’s splendid son, saw Diomedes storming across the plain and driving the ranks in confusion ahead of him, he lost no time but bent his curved bow, took aim and hit him, as he raced ahead, in the right shoulder on a plate of his armour. Piercing the (100) plate, the bitter arrow went right on through, and his body- armour was spattered with blood. Pandarus gave a great shout:
‘Great-hearted Trojans, forward and at them, charioteers! The best man they’ve got is hit, and after a shot like that I don’t think he’ll last much longer, if it really was lord Apollo son of Zeus who sped me on my way here when I left Lycia.’
So he spoke, boasting. But the flying arrow did not bring Diomedes down. He fell back, came to a halt by his horses and chariot and spoke to his charioteer, Capaneus’ son Sthenelus:
(110) ’Quick, Sthenelus old friend, get down from the chariot and draw this wretched arrow from my shoulder.’
So he spoke, and Sthenelus leapt from his chariot to the ground, came over to him and pulled the arrow right through the shoulder and out the other side. The blood came gushing out through his strongly woven tunic, and Diomedes, master of the battle-cry, prayed to Athene:
‘Listen to me, daughter of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud, Atrytone. If ever in the past you wished me and my father Tydeus well and stood by us in the heat of battle, be kind to me again, Athene. Let me kill Pandarus. Bring me within range of the man who shot me before I saw him. And now he’s boasting (120) about it and saying I won’t see the light of day much longer.’
ATHENE helps Diomedes to recognize gods
So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him and removed the heaviness from his legs and arms. She went up to him and spoke winged words: ‘Now, Diomedes, you can fight the Trojans in full confidence! I have filled your heart with the fearless determination of your father Tydeus, the shield-bearing charioteer. Also, I have swept the mist from your eyes and made you able to distinguish gods from men. Now, in case a god comes (130) here to try you out, do not fight with any of them – with one exception only. If Aphrodite daughter of Zeus comes into battle, stab her with your sharp spear.’
With these words grey-eyed Athene left, and Diomedes went and engaged once more with the front ranks. Even without Athene, he had been determined to fall on the enemy again, and now he possessed three times the determination, like a lion which a shepherd in charge of the fleecy sheep on an outlying farm has wounded as it leaps over the fence but failed to kill. He only rouses the lion to greater fury; but now he cannot keep (140) it off, so it gets in among the folds, and the abandoned sheep run in panic. They are left piled up in heaps against each other, and the lion, as determined as ever, jumps the high wall and escapes – with such determination did mighty Diomedes charge the Trojans.
Diomedes kills eight Trojans
He killed Astynous and Hypeiron shepherd of the people. He hit the one above the nipple with his bronze spear and struck the other with his great sword on the collar bone by the shoulder, severing the shoulder from neck and back.
He left them lying there and went after Abas and Polyidus, sons of Eurydamas, an old man who interpreted dreams. But (150) the old man interpreted no dreams for these two when they set out for Troy, and Diomedes killed them both.
Then he went after Xanthus and Thoön, sons of Phaenops, both late-born. Phaenops was old now and ailing and had no other son to whom he could leave his wealth. Diomedes killed them both, depriving them of their precious lives and leaving their father only tears and a broken heart. He never welcomed them home alive from the war. Relatives divided up the estate.
Diomedes‘ next victims were two sons of Dardanian Priam, (160) Echemmon and Chromius, who were riding in the same chariot. As a lion pou
nces on cattle grazing peacefully at pasture and breaks the neck of an ox or heifer, so Diomedes gave them no option but brutally forced them out of their chariot, stripped them of their armour and gave their horses to his men to drive to the ships.
Aeneas urges Pandarus to shoot Diomedes
Aeneas, seeing what havoc Diomedes was making of the Trojan lines, set out through the battle and hail of missiles in search of godlike Pandarus. When he found Lycaon’s handsome mighty son, he went up to him and said:
(170) ‘Pandarus, what’s happened to your bow, your winged arrows, your reputation as an archer? You are supposed to be the best archer Lycia can boast, better than any we have in Troy. So lift your hands in prayer to Zeus and let fly at that man over there. I don’t know who he is, but he’s having it all his own way, and has done us a great deal of harm already and brought many of our best men down – unless it’s an angry god, resentful at some shortcoming in our rites. If it is, his anger is taking a heavy toll.’
Pandarus, splendid son of Lycaon, replied:
(180) ‘Aeneas, adviser to the bronze-armoured Trojans, if you ask me, that man is Diomedes, to the life. I recognize him by his shield and plumed helmet. I know his horses too when I see them. On the other hand, it may be a god: I don’t know for sure. But if it is the man I take him for, warlike Diomedes, I can see the hand of the gods in this frenzied attack. Some god must surely be standing by him, wrapped in a mist, to have made my flying arrow swerve when it was dead on course. Because I have shot at him already – and I hit him in the right shoulder, clean (190) through the plate of armour. I certainly thought that would see him off to Hades. Yet somehow I failed to kill him. So perhaps it is some resentful god, after all.
‘And here am I, without a chariot or horses to carry me. In my father Lycaon’s palace, let me tell you, I have eleven splendid chariots fresh from the joiner’s, brand new. They are still under their protective cloths, and a couple of horses stand by each one, munching white barley and rye. There in the palace before I left for Troy, my old father, the spearman Lycaon, told me (200) time and again that I should lead men into the thick of the action from a horse-drawn chariot. But I would not listen to him -better for me if I had. I wanted to spare my horses, who had always had plenty to eat, in case fodder ran short in a town under siege.
‘So I left and came to Ilium on foot, relying on my archery. Not, as it turns out, that archery was going to do me any good. I have already shot two of their best men, Diomedes and Menelaus, and in each case I scored a hit and drew blood – no doubt about it. But I only roused them to greater efforts. No, (210) destiny was not looking kindly on me when I took my curved bow from its peg that day I set out with my contingent for lovely Ilium to serve godlike Hector. But if ever I get home again and set eyes on the land of my fathers, my wife and my great house with its high roof, I’ll be ready to let anyone cut my head off then and there, if I don’t smash this bow with my own hands and throw it on the blazing fire. It’s surplus baggage.’
Aeneas leader of the Trojans spoke in reply:
Aeneas invites Pandarus into his chariot
‘No more speeches like that, please. Things are not going to change till you and I confront him in full armour from a (220) chariot and find out what he’s made of. Come, get into this chariot and you will see what horses bred by my ancestor Tros are like, and how quickly they can cover the ground in pursuit or retreat. They’ll get us safely back to Ilium, if Zeus gives Diomedes son of Tydeus the glory. Come on, take the whip and reins, and when the time comes I’ll dismount and do the fighting. Or you take on the man, while I look after the horses.’
The splendid son of Lycaon replied:
(230) ’Aeneas, take the reins yourself and drive your own horses. They’ll pull the curved chariot better with their usual charioteer behind them, if we have to run away from Diomedes. They might take fright and not respond, if they missed your voice, and refuse to take us from the battle. Then great-hearted Diomedes would close in, finish us off and drive away our horses. So handle the chariot and horses yourself and, when the man charges, I will take him on with my spear.’
(240) With these words they mounted the ornate chariot and, filled with determination, directed their swift horses at Diomedes. Splendid Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, saw them coming and promptly spoke to Diomedes with winged words:
‘Diomedes son of Tydeus, my pride and joy, here come two mighty men determined to fight you – a formidably powerful pair. One is the expert bowman, Pandarus, who can boast he is Lycaon’s son. The other is Aeneas, who can name matchless Anchises as his father and Aphrodite as his mother. Quick, let’s (250) retreat in the chariot. No more storming about on foot in the front line like this, or you may lose your life.’
Mighty Diomedes gave him a black look and replied:
Diomedes plans to capture Aeneas’ horses
‘Don’t talk to me of flight. I do not think you will persuade me. It’s not in my nature to evade a fight or run away and hide. My desire to win is as strong as ever. No chariot for me, either; I will go to meet them as I am. Pallas Athene does not allow me to run in terror. As for those two, their swift horses will not save both of them from us and get them home, even if one of them escapes.
‘And I will tell you something else, and you bear it in mind. (260) If all-wise Athene lets me win and kill them both, leave our own horses here – you can tie the reins to the rail – and concentrate on the horses of Aeneas. Seize them and drive them away from the Trojans towards our lines. I tell you, they are bred from the same stock as those that far-thundering Zeus gave Tros in compensation after he had stolen his son Ganymede; and they were the best horses in the world. They were passed down to Laomedon, and Anchises lord of men stole the breed by putting (270) mares to them without Laomedon’s knowledge. Six foals resulted. Anchises kept four for himself and reared them in his own stables, but gave the last two, masters of the rout, to his son Aeneas for use in battle. If we could capture them, we’d win heroic glory.’
As they were discussing this, their opponents came up, urging on their swift horses. Splendid Pandarus was first to speak:
‘Bold and brilliant Diomedes, son of noble Tydeus, evidently my flying missile, my bitter arrow, didn’t bring you down. Well, I shall try with a spear this time and see what that will do.’
(280) He spoke, balanced his long-shadowed spear and hurled it. It hit Diomedes’ shield. The bronze point pierced it and reached Diomedes’ body-armour. Pandarus gave a great shout over him:
Diomedes kills Pandarus
‘A hit – clean through the flank! I don’t think you’ll last much longer now! What a triumph you’ve given me!’
Unperturbed, mighty Diomedes said:
‘Missed! You never touched me. But I reckon, before you two have done, one or the other is going to fall and glut the War-god Ares, that shield-bearing warrior, with his blood.’
(290) With these words he threw. His spear, guided by Athene, came down on top of Pandarus’ nose by the eye and passed between his white teeth. His tongue was cut off at the root by the relentless bronze, and the point came out under his chin. He crashed out of the chariot. His bright, glittering armour clattered about him, and his swift horses shied away. Life and spirit left him there.
Aeneas now leapt down from his chariot with his shield and long spear, fearing the Greeks might try to rob him of the body. (300) He stood over it like a lion in the pride of its power, covering the body with his spear and round shield, determined to kill all comers, shouting his intimidating war-cry.
Diomedes picked up a rock, a tremendous feat. Not even two men today could manage it, but Diomedes tossed it about quite easily on his own. With this he hit Aeneas on the hip where the thigh turns in the hip-joint – the cup-bone, as they call it. He crushed the cup-bone and broke both sinews too, and the skin was ripped away by the jagged boulder. The warrior sank to his knees and supported himself with one great hand on the ground; (310) but the world went black as night.
Then Aeneas lord of men would have perished there and then, but for the quickness of his mother divine Aphrodite who had conceived Aeneas for Anchises when he was herding cattle. Seeing what had happened, she threw her white arms round her dear son and drew a fold of her shimmering robe in front of him, to protect him from flying weapons and any fatal spear in the chest from the Greeks with their swift horses.
While Aphrodite was rescuing her son from the battle, (320) Sthenelus, not forgetting the instructions he had received from Diomedes, tied his horses’ reins to the chariot-rail, left them there some way from the mayhem and went for Aeneas’ pair with their lovely manes.
Diomedes wounds APHRODITE
Seizing these, he drove them out of the Trojan into the Greek lines, where he handed them over to Deipylus, a close friend whom he liked more than any man of his own age and with whom he saw eye to eye. After telling Deipylus to drive the pair back to the hollow ships, Sthenelus mounted his own chariot, grasped the glittering reins and immediately drove his powerful horses keenly off in search of Diomedes.
(330) Diomedes, meanwhile, had gone himself in hot pursuit of Aphrodite with his relentless spear, knowing what a timid goddess she was, not one of those that play a dominating part in the battles of mankind, such as Athene or Enyo, sacker of towns. After a long chase through the crowd he caught up with her and leapt to the attack. He made a lunge at her with his sharp spear and stabbed her soft hand at the base of the palm. The point, slicing through the imperishable robe which the Graces had made for her, pierced her flesh where the palm joins the wrist. (340) Out came the goddess’ immortal blood, the ichor that runs in the veins of the blessed gods, who eat no bread and drink no sparkling wine and so are bloodless and called immortals. Aphrodite gave a piercing scream and dropped her son, but Phoebus Apollo took him in his arms and wrapped him in a dark-blue cloud to protect him from any fatal spear in the chest from the Greeks with their swift horses. Diomedes, master of the battle-cry, gave a great shout over her:
