Beneath his ear; the whole blade entering sank
Into his neck, and Lycon with his head
Depending by the skin alone, expired. 410
401 Meriones o’ertaking Acamas
Ere yet he could ascend his chariot, thrust
A lance into his shoulder; down he fell
In dreary death’s eternal darkness whelm’d.
Idomeneus his ruthless spear enforced 415
Into the mouth of Erymas. The point
Stay’d not, but gliding close beneath the brain,
Transpierced his spine, and started forth beyond.
It wrench’d his teeth, and fill’d his eyes with blood;
Blood also blowing through his open mouth 420
And nostrils, to the realms of death he pass’d.
Thus slew these Grecian leaders, each, a foe.
Sudden as hungry wolves the kids purloin
Or lambs, which haply some unheeding swain
Hath left to roam at large the mountains wild; 425
They, seeing, snatch them from beside the dams,
And rend incontinent the feeble prey,
So swift the Danaï the host assail’d
Of Ilium; they, into tumultuous flight
Together driven, all hope, all courage lost. 430
Huge Ajax ceaseless sought his spear to cast
At Hector brazen-mail’d, who, not untaught
The warrior’s art, with bull-hide buckler stood
Sheltering his ample shoulders, while he mark’d
The hiss of flying shafts and crash of spears. 435
Full sure he saw the shifting course of war
Now turn’d, but scorning flight, bent all his thoughts
To rescue yet the remnant of his friends.
As when the Thunderer spreads a sable storm
O’er ether, late serene, the cloud that wrapp’d 440
Olympus’ head escapes into the skies,
So fled the Trojans from the fleet of Greece
Clamoring in their flight, nor pass’d the trench
In fair array; the coursers fleet indeed
Of Hector, him bore safe with all his arms 445
Right through, but in the foss entangled foul
402 He left his host, and struggling to escape.
Then many a chariot-whirling steed, the pole
Broken at its extremity, forsook
His driver, while Patroclus with the shout 450
Of battle calling his Achaians on,
Destruction purposed to the powers of Troy.
They, once dispersed, with clamor and with flight
Fill’d all the ways, the dust beneath the clouds
Hung like a tempest, and the steeds firm-hoof’d 455
Whirl’d off at stretch the chariots to the town.
He, wheresoe’er most troubled he perceived
The routed host, loud-threatening thither drove,
While under his own axle many a Chief
Fell prone, and the o’ertumbled chariots rang. 460
Right o’er the hollow foss the coursers leap’d
Immortal, by the Gods to Peleus given,
Impatient for the plain, nor less desire
Felt he who drove to smite the Trojan Chief,
But him his fiery steeds caught swift away. 465
As when a tempest from autumnal skies
Floats all the fields, what time Jove heaviest pours
Impetuous rain, token of wrath divine
Against perverters of the laws by force,
Who drive forth justice, reckless of the Gods; 470
The rivers and the torrents, where they dwell,
Sweep many a green declivity away,
And plunge at length, groaning, into the Deep
From the hills headlong, leaving where they pass’d
No traces of the pleasant works of man, 475
So, in their flight, loud groan’d the steeds of Troy.
And now, their foremost intercepted all,
Patroclus back again toward the fleet
Drove them precipitate, nor the ascent
Permitted them to Troy for which they strove, 480
But in the midway space between the ships
The river and the lofty Trojan wall
Pursued them ardent, slaughtering whom he reached,
And vengeance took for many a Grecian slain.
403 First then, with glittering spear the breast he pierced 485
Of Pronöus, undefended by his shield,
And stretch’d him dead; loud rang his batter’d arms.
The son of Enops, Thestor next he smote.
He on his chariot-seat magnificent
Low-cowering sat, a fear-distracted form, 490
And from his palsied grasp the reins had fallen.
Then came Patroclus nigh, and through his cheek
His teeth transpiercing, drew him by his lance
Sheer o’er the chariot front. As when a man
On some projecting rock seated, with line 495
And splendid hook draws forth a sea-fish huge,
So him wide-gaping from his seat he drew
At his spear-point, then shook him to the ground
Prone on his face, where gasping he expired.
At Eryalus, next, advancing swift 500
He hurl’d a rock; full on the middle front
He smote him, and within the ponderous casque
His whole head open’d into equal halves.
With deadliest night surrounded, prone he fell.
Epaltes, Erymas, Amphoterus, 505
Echius, Tlepolemus Damastor’s son,
Evippus, Ipheus, Pyres, Polymelus,
All these he on the champain, corse on corse
Promiscuous flung. Sarpedon, when he saw
Such havoc made of his uncinctured friends 510
By Menœtiades, with sharp rebuke
His band of godlike Lycians loud address’d.
Shame on you, Lycians! whither would ye fly?
Now are ye swift indeed! I will oppose
Myself this conqueror, that I may learn 515
Who thus afflicts the Trojan host, of life
Bereaving numerous of their warriors bold.
He said, and with his arms leap’d to the ground.
404 On the other side, Patroclus at that sight
Sprang from his chariot. As two vultures clash 520
Bow-beak’d, crook-talon’d, on some lofty rock
Clamoring both, so they together rush’d
With clamors loud; whom when the son observed
Of wily Saturn, with compassion moved
His sister and his spouse he thus bespake. 525
Alas, he falls! my most beloved of men
Sarpedon, vanquished by Patroclus, falls!
So will the Fates. Yet, doubtful, much I muse
Whether to place him, snatch’d from furious fight
In Lycia’s wealthy realm, or to permit 530
His death by valiant Menœtiades.
To whom his awful spouse, displeased, replied.
How speaks the terrible Saturnian Jove!
Wouldst thou again from pangs of death exempt
A mortal man, destined long since to die? 535
Do it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven,
Mark thou my words, and in thy inmost breast
Treasure them. If thou send Sarpedon safe
To his own home, how many Gods their sons
May also send from battle? Weigh it well. 540
For under yon great city fight no few
Sprung from Immortals whom thou shalt provoke.
But if thou love him, and thine heart his lot
Commiserate, leave him by the hands to fall
Of Menœtiades in conflict dire; 545
But give command to Death and gentle Sleep
That him of life bereft at once they bear
To Lycia’s ample realm, where, with due rites
>
Funereal, his next kindred and his friends
Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb 550
405 (The dead man’s portion) rearing to his name.
She said, from whom the Sire of Gods and men
Dissented not, but on the earth distill’d
A sanguine shower in honor of a son
Dear to him, whom Patroclus on the field 555
Of fruitful Troy should slay, far from his home.
Opposite now, small interval between,
Those heroes stood. Patroclus at his waist
Pierced Thrasymelus the illustrious friend
Of King Sarpedon, and his charioteer. 560
Spear’d through the lower bowels, dead he fell.
Then hurl’d Sarpedon in his turn a lance,
But miss’d Patroclus and the shoulder pierced
Of Pedasus the horse; he groaning heaved
His spirit forth, and fallen on the field 565
In long loud moanings sorrowful expired.
Wide started the immortal pair; the yoke
Creak’d, and entanglement of reins ensued
To both, their fellow slaughter’d at their side.
That mischief soon Automedon redress’d. 570
He rose, and from beside his sturdy thigh
Drawing his falchion, with effectual stroke
Cut loose the side-horse; then the pair reduced
To order, in their traces stood composed,
And the two heroes fierce engaged again. 575
Again his radiant spear Sarpedon hurl’d,
But miss’d Patroclus; the innocuous point,
O’erflying his left shoulder, pass’d beyond.
Then with bright lance Patroclus in his turn
Assail’d Sarpedon, nor with erring course 580
The weapon sped or vain, but pierced profound
His chest, enclosure of the guarded heart.
As falls an oak, poplar, or lofty pine
With new-edged axes on the mountains hewn
Right through, for structure of some gallant bark, 585
So fell Sarpedon stretch’d his steeds before
And gnash’d his teeth and clutch’d the bloody dust,
And as a lion slays a tawny bull
406 Leader magnanimous of all the herd;
Beneath the lion’s jaws groaning he dies; 590
So, leader of the shielded Lycians groan’d
Indignant, by Patroclus slain, the bold
Sarpedon, and his friend thus, sad, bespake.
Glaucus, my friend, among these warring Chiefs
Thyself a Chief illustrious! thou hast need 595
Of all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,
And, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,
Now make the war’s calamities thy joy.
First, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse
Our Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain, 600
Then haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend.
For shame and foul dishonor which no time
Shall e’er obliterate, I must prove to thee,
Should the Achaians of my glorious arms
Despoil me in full prospect of the fleet. 605
Fight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight.
He said, and cover’d by the night of death,
Nor look’d nor breath’d again; for on his chest
Implanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew
The spear enfolded with his vitals forth, 610
Weapon and life at once. Meantime his steeds
407 Snorted, by Myrmidons detain’d, and, loosed
From their own master’s chariot, foam’d to fly.
Terrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,
Hearing that charge, and troubled was his heart 615
That all power fail’d him to protect the dead.
Compressing his own arm he stood, with pain
Extreme tormented which the shaft had caused
Of Teucer, who while Glaucus climb’d the wall,
Had pierced him from it, in the fleet’s defence. 620
Then, thus, to Phœbus, King shaft-arm’d, he pray’d.
Hear now, O King! For whether in the land
Of wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,
Thou hear’st in every place alike the prayer
Of the afflicted heart, and such is mine; 625
Behold my wound; it fills my useless hand
With anguish, neither can my blood be stay’d,
And all my shoulder suffers. I can grasp
A spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks
No longer now; and we have also lost 630
Our noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,
Who guards not his own son. But thou, O King!
Heal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,
That I may animate the Lycian host
To fight, and may, myself, defend the dead! 635
Such prayer he offer’d, whom Apollo heard;
He eased at once his pain, the sable blood
Staunch’d, and his soul with vigor new inspired.
Then Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived
Granted, and joyful for the sudden aid 640
Vouchsafed to him by Phœbus, first the lines
Of Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief
To fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next
With eager haste into the ranks of Troy,
Renown’d Agenor and the son he call’d 645
Of Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom
Æneas also, and approaching last
To Hector brazen-mail’d him thus bespake.
Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign’d
408 All care of thy allies, who, for thy sake, 650
Lost both to friends and country, on these plains
Perish, unaided and unmiss’d by thee.
Sarpedon breathless lies, who led to fight
Our shielded bands, and from whose just control
And courage Lycia drew her chief defence. 655
Him brazen Mars hath by the spear subdued
Of Menœtiades. But stand ye firm!
Let indignation fire you, O my friends!
Lest, stripping him of his resplendent arms,
The Myrmidons with foul dishonor shame 660
His body, through resentment of the deaths
Of numerous Grecians slain by spears of ours.
He ceased; then sorrow every Trojan heart
Seized insupportable and that disdain’d
All bounds, for that, although a stranger born, 665
Sarpedon ever had a bulwark proved
To Troy, the leader of a numerous host,
And of that host by none in fight excell’d.
Right on toward the Danaï they moved
Ardent for battle all, and at their head 670
Enraged for slain Sarpedon, Hector came.
Meantime, stout-hearted Chief, Patroclus roused
The Grecians, and exhorting first (themselves
Already prompt) the Ajaces, thus began.
Heroic pair! now make it all your joy 675
To chase the Trojan host, and such to prove
As erst, or even bolder, if ye may.
The Chief lies breathless who ascended first
Our wall, Sarpedon. Let us bear him hence,
Strip and dishonor him, and in the blood 680
Of his protectors drench the ruthless spear.
So Menœtiades his warriors urged,
Themselves courageous. Then the Lycian host
And Trojan here, and there the Myrmidons
With all the host of Greece, closing the ranks 685
Rush’d into furious contest for the dead,
409 Shouting tremendous; clang’d their brazen arms,
And Jove with Night’s pernicious shades o’erhung
The bloody field, so to enhance the more
Their toilsome strife fo
r his own son. First then 690
The Trojans from their place and order shock’d
The bright-eyed Grecians, slaying not the least
Nor worst among the Myrmidons, the brave
Epigeus from renown’d Agacles sprung.
He, erst, in populous Budeum ruled, 695
But for a valiant kinsman of his own
Whom there he slew, had thence to Peleus fled
And to his silver-footed spouse divine,
Who with Achilles, phalanx-breaker Chief,
Sent him to fight beneath the walls of Troy. 700
Him seizing fast the body, with a stone
Illustrious Hector smote full on the front,
And his whole skull within the ponderous casque
Split sheer; he prostrate on the body fell
In shades of soul-divorcing death involved. 705
Patroclus, grieving for his slaughter’d friend,
Rush’d through the foremost warriors. As the hawk
Swift-wing’d before him starlings drives or daws,
So thou, Patroclus, of equestrian fame!
Full on the Lycian ranks and Trojan drov’st, 710
Resentful of thy fellow-warrior’s fall.
At Sthenelaüs a huge stone he cast,
Son of Ithæmenes, whom on the neck
He smote and burst the tendons; then the van
Of Ilium’s host, with Hector, all retired. 715
Far as the slender javelin cuts the air
Hurl’d with collected force, or in the games,
Or even in battle at a desperate foe,
So far the Greeks repulsed the host of Troy.
Then Glaucus first, Chief of the shielded bands 720
Of Lycia, slew Bathycles, valiant son
Of Calchon; Hellas was his home, and far
410 He pass’d in riches all the Myrmidons.
Him chasing Glaucus whom he now attain’d,
The Lycian, turning sudden, with his lance 725
Pierced through the breast, and, sounding, down he fell
Grief fill’d Achaia’s sons for such a Chief
So slain, but joy the Trojans; thick they throng’d
The conqueror around, nor yet the Greeks
Forgat their force, but resolute advanced. 730
Then, by Meriones a Trojan died
Of noble rank, Laogonus, the son
Undaunted of Onetor great in Troy,
Priest of Idæan Jove. The ear and jaw
Between, he pierced him with a mortal force; 735
Swift flew the life, and darkness veil’d his eyes.
Æneas, in return, his brazen spear
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