329 Meriones assailing him, the lance
Pluck’d from his arm, and to his band retired.
Then, casting his fraternal arms around 650
Deiphobus, him young Polites led
From the hoarse battle to his rapid steeds
And his bright chariot in the distant rear,
Which bore him back to Troy, languid and loud-
Groaning, and bleeding from his recent wound. 655
Still raged the war, and infinite arose
The clamor. Aphareus, Caletor’s son,
Turning to face Æneas, in his throat
Instant the hero’s pointed lance received.
With head reclined, and bearing to the ground 660
Buckler and helmet with him, in dark shades
Of soul-divorcing death involved, he fell.
Antilochus, observing Thoön turn’d
To flight, that moment pierced him; from his back
He ripp’d the vein which through the trunk its course 665
Winds upward to the neck; that vein he ripp’d
All forth; supine he fell, and with both hands
Extended to his fellow-warriors, died.
Forth sprang Antilochus to strip his arms,
But watch’d, meantime, the Trojans, who in crowds 670
Encircling him, his splendid buckler broad
Smote oft, but none with ruthless point prevail’d
Even to inscribe the skin of Nestor’s son,
Whom Neptune, shaker of the shores, amid
Innumerable darts kept still secure. 675
Yet never from his foes he shrank, but faced
From side to side, nor idle slept his spear,
But with rotation ceaseless turn’d and turn’d
To every part, now levell’d at a foe
Far-distant, at a foe, now, near at hand. 680
Nor he, thus occupied, unseen escaped
By Asius’ offspring Adamas, who close
Advancing, struck the centre of his shield.
But Neptune azure-hair’d so dear a life
Denied to Adamas, and render’d vain 685
330 The weapon; part within his disk remain’d
Like a seer’d stake, and part fell at his feet.
Then Adamas, for his own life alarm’d,
Retired, but as he went, Meriones
Him reaching with his lance, the shame between 690
And navel pierced him, where the stroke of Mars
Proves painful most to miserable man.
There enter’d deep the weapon; down he fell,
And in the dust lay panting as an ox
Among the mountains pants by peasants held 695
In twisted bands, and dragg’d perforce along;
So panted dying Adamas, but soon
Ceased, for Meriones, approaching, pluck’d
The weapon forth, and darkness veil’d his eyes.
Helenus, with his heavy Thracian blade 700
Smiting the temples of Deipyrus,
Dash’d off his helmet; from his brows remote
It fell, and wandering roll’d, till at his feet
Some warrior found it, and secured; meantime
The sightless shades of death him wrapp’d around. 705
Grief at that spectacle the bosom fill’d
Of valiant Menelaus; high he shook
His radiant spear, and threatening him, advanced
On royal Helenus, who ready stood
With his bow bent. They met; impatient, one, 710
To give his pointed lance its rapid course,
And one, to start his arrow from the nerve.
The arrow of the son of Priam struck
Atrides’ hollow corselet, but the reed
Glanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans 715
Leap from the van and fly athwart the floor,
By sharp winds driven, and by the winnower’s force,
So from the corselet of the glorious Greek
Wide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away.
But Menelaus the left-hand transpierced 720
Of Helenus, and with the lance’s point
Fasten’d it to his bow; shunning a stroke
More fatal, Helenus into his band
331 Retired, his arm dependent at his side,
And trailing, as he went, the ashen beam; 725
There, bold Agenor from his hand the lance
Drew forth, then folded it with softest wool
Around, sling-wool, and borrow’d from the sling
Which his attendant into battle bore.
Then sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief 730
The son of Atreus, but his evil fate
Beckon’d him to his death in conflict fierce,
Oh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee.
And now they met, small interval between.
Atrides hurl’d his weapon, and it err’d. 735
Pisander with his spear struck full the shield
Of glorious Menelaus, but his force
Resisted by the stubborn buckler broad
Fail’d to transpierce it, and the weapon fell
Snapp’d at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart 740
Rebounded of Pisander, full of hope.
But Menelaus, drawing his bright blade,
Sprang on him, while Pisander from behind
His buckler drew a brazen battle-axe
By its long haft of polish’d olive-wood, 745
And both Chiefs struck together. He the crest
That crown’d the shaggy casque of Atreus’ son
Hew’d from its base, but Menelaus him
In his swift onset smote full on the front
Above his nose; sounded the shatter’d bone, 750
And his eyes both fell bloody at his feet.
Convolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast
Atrides setting fast his heel, tore off
His armor, and exulting thus began.
So shall ye leave at length the Grecian fleet, 755
Traitors, and never satisfied with war!
Nor want ye other guilt, dogs and profane!
But me have injured also, and defied
The hot displeasure of high-thundering Jove
The hospitable, who shall waste in time, 760
And level with the dust your lofty Troy.
332 I wrong’d not you, yet bore ye far away
My youthful bride who welcomed you, and stole
My treasures also, and ye now are bent
To burn Achaia’s gallant fleet with fire 765
And slay her heroes; but your furious thirst
Of battle shall hereafter meet a check.
Oh, Father Jove! Thee wisest we account
In heaven or earth, yet from thyself proceed
All these calamities, who favor show’st 770
To this flagitious race the Trojans, strong
In wickedness alone, and whose delight
In war and bloodshed never can be cloy’d.
All pleasures breed satiety, sweet sleep,
Soft dalliance, music, and the graceful dance, 775
Though sought with keener appetite by most
Than bloody war; but Troy still covets blood.
So spake the royal Chief, and to his friends
Pisander’s gory spoils consigning, flew
To mingle in the foremost fight again. 780
Him, next, Harpalion, offspring of the King
Pylæmenes assail’d; to Troy he came
Following his sire, but never thence return’d.
He, from small distance, smote the central boss
Of Menelaus’ buckler with his lance, 785
But wanting power to pierce it, with an eye
Of cautious circumspection, lest perchance
Some spear should reach him, to his band retired.
But him retiring with a brazen shaft
Meriones pursued; swift flew the dart 790
> To his right buttock, slipp’d beneath the bone,
His bladder grazed, and started through before.
There ended his retreat; sudden he sank
And like a worm lay on the ground, his life
Exhaling in his fellow-warrior’s arms, 795
And with his sable blood soaking the plain.
Around him flock’d his Paphlagonians bold,
And in his chariot placed drove him to Troy,
With whom his father went, mourning with tears
333 A son, whose death he never saw avenged. 800
Him slain with indignation Paris view’d,
For he, with numerous Paphlagonians more
His guest had been; he, therefore, in the thirst
Of vengeance, sent a brazen arrow forth.
There was a certain Greek, Euchenor, son 805
Of Polyides the soothsayer, rich
And brave in fight, and who in Corinth dwelt
He, knowing well his fate, yet sail’d to Troy
For Polyides oft, his reverend sire,
Had prophecied that he should either die 810
By some dire malady at home, or, slain
By Trojan hands, amid the fleet of Greece.
He, therefore, shunning the reproach alike
Of the Achaians, and that dire disease,
Had join’d the Grecian host; him Paris pierced 815
The ear and jaw beneath; life at the stroke
Left him, and darkness overspread his eyes.
So raged the battle like devouring fire.
But Hector dear to Jove not yet had learn’d,
Nor aught surmised the havoc of his host 820
Made on the left, where victory crown’d well-nigh
The Grecians animated to the fight
By Neptune seconding himself their arms.
He, where he first had started through the gate
After dispersion of the shielded Greeks 825
Compact, still persevered. The galleys there
Of Ajax and Protesilaüs stood
Updrawn above the hoary Deep; the wall
Was there of humblest structure, and the steeds
And warriors there conflicted furious most. 830
The Epeans there and Iäonians robed-
Prolix, the Phthians, Locrians, and the bold
334 Bœtians check’d the terrible assault
Of Hector, noble Chief, ardent as flame,
Yet not repulsed him. Chosen Athenians form’d 835
The van, by Peteos’ son, Menestheus, led,
Whose high command undaunted Bias shared,
Phidas and Stichius. The Epean host
Under Amphion, Dracius, Meges, fought.
Podarces brave in arms the Phthians ruled, 840
And Medon (Medon was by spurious birth
Brother of Ajax Oïliades,
And for his uncle’s death, whom he had slain,
The brother of Oïleus’ wife, abode
In Phylace; but from Iphiclus sprang 845
Podarces;) these, all station’d in the front
Of Phthias’ hardy sons, together strove
With the Bœotians for the fleet’s defence.
Ajax the swift swerved never from the side
Of Ajax son of Telamon a step, 850
But as in some deep fallow two black steers
Labor combined, dragging the ponderous plow,
The briny sweat around their rooted horns
Oozes profuse; they, parted as they toil
Along the furrow, by the yoke alone, 855
Cleave to its bottom sheer the stubborn glebe,
So, side by side, they, persevering fought.
The son of Telamon a people led
Numerous and bold, who, when his bulky limbs
Fail’d overlabor’d, eased him of his shield. 860
Not so attended by his Locrians fought
Oïleus’ valiant son; pitch’d battle them
Suited not, unprovided with bright casques
Of hairy crest, with ashen spears, and shields
Of ample orb; for, trusting in the bow 865
And twisted sling alone, they came to Troy,
335 And broke with shafts and volley’d stones the ranks.
Thus occupying, clad in burnish’d arms,
The van, these two with Hector and his host
Conflicted, while the Locrians from behind 870
Vex’d them with shafts, secure; nor could the men
Of Ilium stand, by such a shower confused.
Then, driven with dreadful havoc thence, the foe
To wind-swept Ilium had again retired.
Had not Polydamas, at Hector’s side 875
Standing, the dauntless hero thus address’d.
Hector! Thou ne’er canst listen to advice;
But think’st thou, that if heaven in feats of arms
Give thee pre-eminence, thou must excel
Therefore in council also all mankind? 880
No. All-sufficiency is not for thee.
To one, superior force in arms is given,
Skill to another in the graceful dance,
Sweet song and powers of music to a third,
And to a fourth loud-thundering Jove imparts 885
Wisdom, which profits many, and which saves
Whole cities oft, though reverenced but by few.
Yet hear; I speak as wisest seems to me.
War, like a fiery circle, all around
Environs thee; the Trojans, since they pass’d 890
The bulwark, either hold themselves aloof,
Or, wide-dispersed among the galleys, cope
With numbers far superior to their own.
Retiring, therefore, summon all our Chiefs
To consultation on the sum of all, 895
Whether (should heaven so prosper us) to rush
Impetuous on the gallant barks of Greece,
Or to retreat secure; for much I dread
Lest the Achaians punctually refund
All yesterday’s arrear, since yonder Chief 900
Insatiable with battle still abides
Within the fleet, nor longer, as I judge,
Will rest a mere spectator of the field.
So spake Polydamas, whose safe advice
336 Pleased Hector; from his chariot down he leap’d 905
All arm’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.
Polydamas! here gather all the Chiefs;
I haste into the fight, and my commands
Once issued there, incontinent return.
He ended, and conspicuous as the height 910
Of some snow-crested mountain, shouting ranged
The Trojans and confederates of Troy.
They swift around Polydamas, brave son
Of Panthus, at the voice of Hector, ran.
Himself with hasty strides the front, meantime, 915
Of battle roam’d, seeking from rank to rank
Asius Hyrtacides, with Asius’ son
Adamas, and Deiphobus, and the might
Of Helenus, his royal brother bold.
Them neither altogether free from hurt 920
He found, nor living all. Beneath the sterns
Of the Achaian ships some slaughter’d lay
By Grecian hands; some stricken by the spear
Within the rampart sat, some by the sword.
But leftward of the woful field he found, 925
Ere long, bright Helen’s paramour his band
Exhorting to the fight. Hector approach’d,
And him, in fierce displeasure, thus bespake.
Curst Paris, specious, fraudulent and lewd!
Where is Deiphobus, and where the might 930
Of royal Helenus? Where Adamas
Offspring of Asius, and where Asius, son
Of Hyrtacus, and where Othryoneus?
Now lofty Ilium from her topmost height
Falls headlong, now is thy own ruin s
ure! 935
To whom the godlike Paris thus replied.
Since Hector! thou art pleased with no just cause
To censure me, I may decline, perchance,
Much more the battle on some future day,
For I profess some courage, even I. 940
Witness our constant conflict with the Greeks
Here, on this spot, since first led on by thee
337 The host of Troy waged battle at the ships.
But those our friends of whom thou hast inquired
Are slain, Deiphobus alone except 945
And royal Helenus, who in the hand
Bear each a wound inflicted by the spear,
And have retired; but Jove their life preserved.
Come now — conduct us whither most thine heart
Prompts thee, and thou shalt find us ardent all 950
To face like danger; what we can, we will,
The best and most determined can no more.
So saying, the hero soothed his brother’s mind.
Then moved they both toward the hottest war
Together, where Polydamas the brave, 955
Phalces, Cebriones, Orthæus fought,
Palmys and Polyphœtes, godlike Chief,
And Morys and Ascanius, gallant sons
Both of Hippotion. They at Troy arrived
From fair Ascania the preceding morn, 960
In recompense for aid by Priam lent
Erewhile to Phrygia, and, by Jove impell’d,
Now waged the furious battle side by side.
The march of these at once, was as the sound
Of mighty winds from deep-hung thunder-clouds 965
Descending; clamorous the blast and wild
With ocean mingles; many a billow, then,
Upridged rides turbulent the sounding flood,
Foam-crested billow after billow driven,
So moved the host of Troy, rank after rank 970
Behind their Chiefs, all dazzling bright in arms.
Before them Priameian Hector strode
Fierce as gore-tainted Mars, and his broad shield
Advancing came, heavy with hides, and thick-
Plated with brass; his helmet on his brows 975
Refulgent shook, and in its turn he tried
The force of every phalanx, if perchance
Behind his broad shield pacing he might shake
Their steadfast order; but he bore not down
338 The spirit of the firm Achaian host. 980
Then Ajax striding forth, him, first, defied.
Approach. Why temptest thou the Greeks to fear?
No babes are we in aught that appertains
To arms, though humbled by the scourge of Jove.
Thou cherishest the foolish hope to burn 985
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 117
