Sheer from its base; new-tinged with purple bright 650
Entire it fell and mingled with the dust.
While thus they strove, each hoping victory,
Came martial Menelaus to the aid
Of Meges; spear in hand apart he stood
By Dolops unperceived, through his back drove 655
And through his breast the spear, and far beyond.
And down fell Dolops, forehead to the ground.
At once both flew to strip his radiant arms,
Then, Hector summoning his kindred, call’d
Each to his aid, and Melanippus first, 660
Illustrious Hicetaon’s son, reproved.
Ere yet the enemies of Troy arrived
He in Percote fed his wandering beeves;
380 But when the Danaï with all their fleet
Came thither, then returning, he outshone 665
The noblest Trojans, and at Priam’s side
Dwelling, was honor’d by him as a son.
Him Hector reprimanding, stern began.
Are we thus slack? Can Melanippus view
Unmoved a kinsman slain? Seest not the Greeks 670
How busy there with Dolops and his arms?
Come on. It is no time for distant war,
But either our Achaian foes must bleed,
Or Ilium taken, from her topmost height
Must stoop, and all her citizens be slain. 675
So saying he went, whose steps the godlike Chief
Attended; and the Telamonian, next,
Huge Ajax, animated thus the Greeks.
Oh friends, be men! Deep treasure in your hearts
An honest shame, and, fighting bravely, fear 680
Each to incur the censure of the rest.
Of men so minded more survive than die,
While dastards forfeit life and glory both.
So moved he them, themselves already bent
To chase the Trojans; yet his word they bore 685
Faithful in mind, and with a wall of brass
Fenced firm the fleet, while Jove impell’d the foe.
Then Menelaus, brave in fight, approach’d
Antilochus, and thus his courage roused.
Antilochus! in all the host is none 690
Younger, or swifter, or of stronger limb
Than thou. Make trial, therefore, of thy might,
Spring forth and prove it on some Chief of Troy.
He ended and retired, but him his praise
Effectual animated; from the van 695
Starting, he cast a wistful eye around
And hurl’d his glittering spear; back fell the ranks
Of Troy appall’d; nor vain his weapon flew,
But Melanippus pierced heroic son
Of Hicetaon, coming forth to fight, 700
Full in the bosom, and with dreadful sound
381 Of all his batter’d armor down he fell.
Swift flew Antilochus as flies the hound
Some fawn to seize, which issuing from her lair
The hunter with his lance hath stricken dead, 705
So thee, O Melanippus! to despoil
Of thy bright arms valiant Antilochus
Sprang forth, but not unnoticed by the eye
Of noble Hector, who through all the war
Ran to encounter him; his dread approach 710
Antilochus, although expert in arms,
Stood not, but as some prowler of the wilds,
Conscious of injury that he hath done,
Slaying the watchful herdsman or his dog,
Escapes, ere yet the peasantry arise, 715
So fled the son of Nestor, after whom
The Trojans clamoring and Hector pour’d
Darts numberless; but at the front arrived
Of his own phalanx, there he turn’d and stood.
Then, eager as voracious lions, rush’d 720
The Trojans on the fleet of Greece, the mind
Of Jove accomplishing who them impell’d
Continual, calling all their courage forth,
While, every Grecian heart he tamed, and took
Their glory from them, strengthening Ilium’s host. 725
For Jove’s unalter’d purpose was to give
Success to Priameian Hector’s arms,
That he might cast into the fleet of Greece
Devouring flames, and that no part might fail
Of Thetis’ ruthless prayer; that sight alone 730
He watch’d to see, one galley in a blaze,
Ordaining foul repulse, thenceforth, and flight
To Ilium’s host, but glory to the Greeks.
Such was the cause for which, at first, he moved
To that assault Hector, himself prepared 735
382 And ardent for the task; nor less he raged
Than Mars while fighting, or than flames that seize
Some forest on the mountain-tops; the foam
Hung at his lips, beneath his awful front
His keen eyes glisten’d, and his helmet mark’d 740
The agitation wild with which he fought.
For Jove omnipotent, himself, from heaven
Assisted Hector, and, although alone
With multitudes he strove, gave him to reach
The heights of glory, for that now his life 745
Waned fast, and, urged by Pallas on, his hour
To die by Peleus’ mighty son approach’d.
He then, wherever richest arms he saw
And thickest throng, the warrior-ranks essay’d
To break, but broke them not, though fierce resolved, 750
In even square compact so firm they stood.
As some vast rock beside the hoary Deep
The stress endures of many a hollow wind,
And the huge billows tumbling at his base,
So stood the Danaï, nor fled nor fear’d. 755
But he, all-fiery bright in arms, the host
Assail’d on every side, and on the van
Fell, as a wave by wintry blasts upheaved
Falls ponderous on the ship; white clings the foam
Around her, in her sail shrill howls the storm, 760
And every seaman trembles at the view
Of thousand deaths from which he scarce escapes,
Such anguish rent the bosom of the Greeks.
But he, as leaps a famish’d lion fell
On beeves that graze some marshy meadow’s breadth, 765
A countless herd, tended by one unskill’d
To cope with savage beasts in their defence,
Beside the foremost kine or with the last
He paces heedless, but the lion, borne
383 Impetuous on the midmost, one devours 770
And scatters all the rest, so fled the Greeks,
Terrified from above, before the arm
Of Hector, and before the frown of Jove.
All fled, but of them all alone he slew
The Mycenæan Periphetes, son 775
Of Copreus custom’d messenger of King
Eurystheus to the might of Hercules.
From such a sire inglorious had arisen
A son far worthier, with all virtue graced,
Swift-footed, valiant, and by none excell’d 780
In wisdom of the Mycenæan name;
Yet all but served to ennoble Hector more.
For Periphetes, with a backward step
Retiring, on his buckler’s border trod,
Which swept his heels; so check’d, he fell supine, 785
And dreadful rang the helmet on his brows.
Him Hector quick noticing, to his side
Hasted, and, planting in his breast a spear,
Slew him before the phalanx of his friends.
But they, although their fellow-warrior’s fate 790
They mourn’d, no succor interposed, or could,
Themselves by noble Hector sore appall’d.
And no
w behind the ships (all that updrawn
Above the shore, stood foremost of the fleet)
The Greeks retired; in rush’d a flood of foes; 795
Then, through necessity, the ships in front
Abandoning, amid the tents they stood
Compact, not disarray’d, for shame and fear
Fast held them, and vociferating each
Aloud, call’d ceaseless on the rest to stand. 800
But earnest more than all, guardian of all,
Gerenian Nestor in their parents’ name
Implored them, falling at the knees of each.
Oh friends! be men. Now dearly prize your place
384 Each in the estimation of the rest. 805
Now call to memory your children, wives,
Possessions, parents; ye whose parents live,
And ye whose parents are not, all alike!
By them as if here present, I entreat
That ye stand fast — oh be not turn’d to flight! 810
So saying he roused the courage of the Greeks;
Then, Pallas chased the cloud fall’n from above
On every eye; great light the plain illumed
On all sides, both toward the fleet, and where
The undiscriminating battle raged. 815
Then might be seen Hector and Hector’s host
Distinct, as well the rearmost who the fight
Shared not, as those who waged it at the ships.
To stand aloof where other Grecians stood
No longer now would satisfy the mind 820
Of Ajax, but from deck to deck with strides
Enormous marching, to and fro he swung
With iron studs emboss’d a battle-pole
Unwieldy, twenty and two cubits long.
As one expert to spring from horse to horse, 825
From many steeds selecting four, toward
Some noble city drives them from the plain
Along the populous road; him many a youth
And many a maiden eyes, while still secure
From steed to steed he vaults; they rapid fly; 830
So Ajax o’er the decks of numerous ships
Stalk’d striding large, and sent his voice to heaven.
Thus, ever clamoring, he bade the Greeks
Stand both for camp and fleet. Nor could himself
Hector, contented, now, the battle wage 835
Lost in the multitude of Trojans more,
But as the tawny eagle on full wing
Assails the feather’d nations, geese or cranes
Or swans lithe-neck’d grazing the river’s verge,
So Hector at a galley sable-prow’d 840
Darted; for, from behind, Jove urged him on
With mighty hand, and his host after him.
385 And now again the battle at the ships
Grew furious; thou hadst deem’d them of a kind
By toil untameable, so fierce they strove, 845
And, striving, thus they fought. The Grecians judged
Hope vain, and the whole host’s destruction sure;
But nought expected every Trojan less
Than to consume the fleet with fire, and leave
Achaia’s heroes lifeless on the field. 850
With such persuasions occupied, they fought.
Then Hector seized the stern of a brave bark
Well-built, sharp-keel’d, and of the swiftest sail,
Which had to Troy Protesiläus brought,
But bore him never thence. For that same ship 855
Contending, Greeks and Trojans hand to hand
Dealt slaughter mutual. Javelins now no more
Might serve them, or the arrow-starting bow,
But close conflicting and of one mind all
With bill and battle-axe, with ponderous swords, 860
And with long lances double-edged they fought.
Many a black-hilted falchion huge of haft
Fell to the ground, some from the grasp, and some
From shoulders of embattled warriors hewn,
And pools of blood soak’d all the sable glebe. 865
Hector that ship once grappled by the stern
Left not, but griping fast her upper edge
With both hands, to his Trojans call’d aloud.
Fire! Bring me fire! Stand fast and shout to heaven!
Jove gives us now a day worth all the past; 870
The ships are ours which, in the Gods’ despite
Steer’d hither, such calamities to us
Have caused, for which our seniors most I blame
Who me withheld from battle at the fleet
And check’d the people; but if then the hand 875
Of Thunderer Jove our better judgment marr’d,
Himself now urges and commands us on.
He ceased; they still more violent assail’d
The Grecians. Even Ajax could endure,
Whelm’d under weapons numberless, that storm 880
386 No longer, but expecting death retired
Down from the decks to an inferior stand,
Where still he watch’d, and if a Trojan bore
Fire thither, he repulsed him with his spear,
Roaring continual to the host of Greece. 885
Friends! Grecian heroes! ministers of Mars!
Be men, my friends! now summon all your might!
Think we that we have thousands at our backs
To succor us, or yet some stronger wall
To guard our warriors from the battle’s force? 890
Not so. No tower’d city is at hand,
None that presents us with a safe retreat
While others occupy our station here,
But from the shores of Argos far remote
Our camp is, where the Trojans arm’d complete 895
Swarm on the plain, and Ocean shuts us in.
Our hands must therefore save us, not our heels
He said, and furious with his spear again
Press’d them, and whatsoever Trojan came,
Obsequious to the will of Hector, arm’d 900
With fire to burn the fleet, on his spear’s point
Ajax receiving pierced him, till at length
Twelve in close fight fell by his single arm.
ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTEENTH BOOK.
Achilles, at the suit of Patroclus, grants him his own armor, and permission to lead the Myrmidons to battle. They, sallying, repulse the Trojans. Patroclus slays Sarpedon, and Hector, when Apollo had first stripped off his armor and Euphorbus wounded him, slays Patroclus.
BOOK XVI.
Such contest for that gallant bark they waged.
Meantime Patroclus, standing at the side
Of the illustrious Chief Achilles, wept
Fast as a crystal fountain from the height
Of some rude rock pours down its rapid stream. 5
Divine Achilles with compassion moved
Mark’d him, and in wing’d accents thus began.
Who weeps Patroclus like an infant girl
Who, running at her mother’s side, entreats
To be uplifted in her arms? She grasps 10
Her mantle, checks her haste, and looking up
With tearful eyes, pleads earnest to be borne;
So fall, Patroclus! thy unceasing tears.
Bring’st thou to me or to my people aught
Afflictive? Hast thou mournful tidings learn’d 15
Prom Phthia, trusted to thy ear alone?
Menœtius, son of Actor, as they say,
390 Still lives; still lives his Myrmidons among
Peleus Æacides; whom, were they dead,
With cause sufficient we should both deplore. 20
Or weep’st thou the Achaians at the ships
Perishing, for their outrage done to me?
Speak. Name thy trouble. I would learn the cause
To whom, deep-sorrowing, thou didst reply,
Patroclus!
Oh Achilles, Peleus’ son! 25
Noblest of all our host! bear with my grief,
Since such distress hath on the Grecians fallen.
The bravest of their ships disabled lie,
Some wounded from afar, some hand to hand.
Diomede, warlike son of Tydeus, bleeds, 30
Gall’d by a shaft; Ulysses, glorious Chief,
And Agamemnon suffer by the spear,
And brave Eurypylus an arrow-point
Bears in his thigh. These all, are now the care
Of healing hands. Oh thou art pity-proof, 35
Achilles! be my bosom ever free
From anger such as harbor finds in thine,
Scorning all limits! whom, of men unborn,
Hereafter wilt thou save, from whom avert
Disgrace, if not from the Achaians now? 40
Ah ruthless! neither Peleus thee begat,
Nor Thetis bore, but rugged rocks sublime,
And roaring billows blue gave birth to thee,
Who bear’st a mind that knows not to relent,
But, if some prophecy alarm thy fears, 45
If from thy Goddess-mother thou have aught
Received, and with authority of Jove,
Me send at least, me quickly, and with me
The Myrmidons. A dawn of cheerful hope
Shall thence, it may be, on the Greeks arise. 50
Grant me thine armor also, that the foe
Thyself supposing present, may abstain
From battle, and the weary Greeks enjoy
Short respite; it is all that war allows.
We, fresh and vigorous, by our shouts alone 55
391 May easily repulse an army spent
With labor from the camp, and from the fleet,
Such suit he made, alas! all unforewarn’d
That his own death should be the bitter fruit,
And thus Achilles, sorrowful, replied. 60
Patroclus, noble friend! what hast thou spoken?
Me neither prophesy that I have heard
Holds in suspense, nor aught that I have learn’d
From Thetis with authority of Jove!
Hence springs, and hence alone, my grief of heart; 65
If one, in nought superior to myself
Save in his office only, should by force
Amerce me of my well-earn’d recompense —
How then? There lies the grief that stings my soul.
The virgin chosen for me by the sons 70
Of Greece, my just reward, by my own spear
Obtain’d when I Eëtion’s city took,
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 122
