Hurl’d at Meriones with ardent hope
To pierce him, while, with nimble steps and short
Behind his buckler made, he paced the field; 740
But, warn’d of its approach, Meriones
Bow’d low his head, shunning it, and the spear
Behind him pierced the soil; there quivering stood
The weapon, vain, though from a vigorous arm,
Till spent by slow degrees its fury slept. 745
* * * * *
* * * * *
Indignant then Æneas thus exclaim’d.
411 Meriones! I sent thee such a spear
As reaching thee, should have for ever marr’d 750
Thy step, accomplish’d dancer as thou art.
To whom Meriones spear-famed replied.
Æneas! thou wilt find the labor hard
How great soe’er thy might, to quell the force
Of all opposers. Thou art also doom’d 755
Thyself to die; and may but spear of mine
Well-aim’d once strike thee full, what strength soe’er
Or magnanimity be thine to boast,
Thy glory in that moment thou resign’st
To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown’d. 760
He said, but him Patroclus sharp reproved.
Why speaks Meriones, although in fight
Approved, thus proudly? Nay, my gallant friend!
The Trojans will not for reproach of ours
Renounce the body. Blood must first be spilt. 765
Tongues in debate, but hands in war decide;
Deeds therefore now, not wordy vaunts, we need.
So saying he led the way, whom follow’d close
Godlike Meriones. As from the depth
Of some lone wood that clothes the mountain’s side 770
The fellers at their toil are heard remote,
So, from the face of Ilium’s ample plain
Reverberated, was the din of brass
And of tough targets heard by falchions huge
Hard-smitten, and by spears of double-edge. 775
None then, no, not the quickest to discern,
Had known divine Sarpedon, from his head
To his foot-sole with mingled blood and dust
Polluted, and o’erwhelm’d with weapons. They
Around the body swarm’d. As hovel-flies 780
In spring-time buzz around the brimming pails
With milk bedew’d, so they around the dead.
Nor Jove averted once his glorious eyes
From that dread contest, but with watchful note
Marked all, the future death in battle deep 785
Pondering of Patroclus, whether him
412 Hector should even now slay on divine
Sarpedon, and despoil him of his arms,
Or he should still that arduous strife prolong.
This counsel gain’d as eligible most 790
At length his preference: that the valiant friend
Of Peleus’ son should yet again compel
The Trojan host with Hector brazen-mail’d
To Ilium, slaughtering numerous by the way.
First then, with fears unmanly he possess’d 795
The heart of Hector; mounting to his seat
He turn’d to flight himself, and bade his host
Fly also; for he knew Jove’s purpose changed.
Thenceforth, no longer even Lycia’s host
Endured, but all fled scatter’d, seeing pierced 800
Their sovereign through his heart, and heap’d with dead;
For numerous, while Saturnian Jove the fight
Held in suspense, had on his body fallen.
At once the Grecians of his dazzling arms
Despoil’d Sarpedon, which the Myrmidons 805
By order of Menœtius’ valiant son
Bore thence into the fleet. Meantime his will
The Thunderer to Apollo thus express’d.
Phœbus, my son, delay not; from beneath
Yon hill of weapons drawn cleanse from his blood 810
Sarpedon’s corse; then, bearing him remote,
Lave him in waters of the running stream,
With oils divine anoint, and in attire
Immortal clothe him. Last, to Death and Sleep,
Swift bearers both, twin-born, deliver him; 815
For hence to Lycia’s opulent abodes
They shall transport him quickly, where, with rites
Funereal, his next kindred and his friends
Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb
(The dead man’s portion) rearing to his name. 820
He ceased; nor was Apollo slow to hear
His father’s will, but, from the Idæan heights
413 Descending swift into the dreadful field,
Godlike Sarpedon’s body from beneath
The hill of weapons drew, which, borne remote, 825
He laved in waters of the running stream,
With oils ambrosial bathed, and clothed in robes
Immortal. Then to Death and gentle Sleep,
Swift-bearers both, twin-born, he gave the charge,
Who placed it soon in Lycia’s wealthy realm. 830
Meantime Patroclus, calling to his steeds,
And to Automedon, the Trojans chased
And Lycians, on his own destruction bent
Infatuate; heedless of his charge received
From Peleus’ son, which, well perform’d, had saved 835
The hero from his miserable doom.
But Jove’s high purpose evermore prevails
Against the thoughts of man; he turns to flight
The bravest, and the victory takes with ease
E’en from the Chief whom he impels himself 840
To battle, as he now this Chief impell’d.
Who, then, Patroclus! first, who last by thee
Fell slain, what time thyself was call’d to die?
Adrastus first, then Perimus he slew,
Offspring of Megas, then Autonoüs, 845
Echechlus, Melanippus, and Epistor,
Pylartes, Mulius, Elasus. All these
He slew, and from the field chased all beside.
Then, doubtless, had Achaia’s sons prevail’d
To take proud-gated Troy, such havoc made 850
He with his spear, but that the son of Jove
Apollo, on a tower’s conspicuous height
Station’d, devoted him for Ilium’s sake.
Thrice on a buttress of the lofty wall
Patroclus mounted, and him thrice the God 855
With hands immortal his resplendent shield
Smiting, struck down again; but when he rush’d
A fourth time, demon-like, to the assault,
The King of radiant shafts him, stern, rebuked.
Patroclus, warrior of renown, retire! 860
414 The fates ordain not that imperial Troy
Stoop to thy spear, nor to the spear itself
Of Peleus’ son, though mightier far than thou.
He said, and Menœtiades the wrath
Of shaft-arm’d Phœbus shunning, far retired. 865
But in the Scæan gate Hector his steeds
Detain’d, uncertain whether thence to drive
Amid the warring multitude again,
Or, loud commandment issuing, to collect
His host within the walls. Him musing long 870
Apollo, clad in semblance of a Chief
Youthful and valiant, join’d. Asius he seem’d
Equestrian Hector’s uncle, brother born
Of Hecuba the queen, and Dymas’ son,
Who on the Sangar’s banks in Phrygia dwelt. 875
Apollo, so disguised, him thus bespake.
Why, Hector, hast thou left the fight? this sloth
Not well befits thee. Oh that I as far
Thee pass’d in force as thou transcendest me,
Then, not unpunish’d long, should’st thou
retire; 880
But haste, and with thy coursers solid-hoof’d
Seek out Patroclus, him perchance to slay,
Should Phœbus have decreed that glory thine.
So saying, Apollo join’d the host again.
Then noble Hector bade his charioteer 885
Valiant Cebriones his coursers lash
Back into battle, while the God himself
Entering the multitude confounded sore
The Argives, victory conferring proud
And glory on Hector and the host of Troy. 890
But Hector, leaving all beside unslain,
Furious impell’d his coursers solid-hoof’d
Against Patroclus; on the other side
Patroclus from his chariot to the ground
Leap’d ardent; in his left a spear he bore, 895
And in his right a marble fragment rough,
Large as his grasp. With full collected might
He hurl’d it; neither was the weapon slow
415 To whom he had mark’d, or sent in vain.
He smote the charioteer of Hector, bold 900
Cebriones, King Priam’s spurious son,
Full on the forehead, while he sway’d the reins.
The bone that force withstood not, but the rock
With ragged points beset dash’d both his brows
In pieces, and his eyes fell at his feet. 905
He diver-like, from his exalted stand
Behind the steeds pitch’d headlong, and expired;
O’er whom, Patroclus of equestrian fame!
Thou didst exult with taunting speech severe.
Ye Gods, with what agility he dives! 910
Ah! it were well if in the fishy deep
This man were occupied; he might no few
With oysters satisfy, although the waves
Were churlish, plunging headlong from his bark
As easily as from his chariot here. 915
So then — in Troy, it seems, are divers too!
So saying, on bold Cebriones he sprang
With all a lion’s force, who, while the folds
He ravages, is wounded in the breast,
And, victim of his own fierce courage, dies. 920
So didst thou spring, Patroclus! to despoil
Cebriones, and Hector opposite
Leap’d also to the ground. Then contest such
For dead Cebriones those two between
Arose, as in the lofty mountain-tops 925
Two lions wage, contending for a deer
New-slain, both hunger-pinch’d and haughty both.
So for Cebriones, alike in arms
Expert, brave Hector and Patroclus strove
To pierce each other with the ruthless spear. 930
First, Hector seized his head, nor loosed his hold,
Patroclus, next, his feet, while all beside
Of either host in furious battle join’d.
As when the East wind and the South contend
To shake some deep wood on the mountain’s side, 935
Or beech, or ash, or rugged cornel old.
416 With stormy violence the mingled boughs
Smite and snap short each other, crashing loud;
So, Trojans and Achaians, mingling, slew
Mutual, while neither felt a wish to fly. 940
Around Cebriones stood many a spear,
And many a shaft sent smartly from the nerve
Implanted deep, and many a stone of grasp
Enormous sounded on their batter’d shields
Who fought to gain him. He, in eddies lost 945
Of sable dust, with his huge trunk huge space
O’erspread, nor steeds nor chariots heeded more.
While yet the sun ascending climb’d the heavens,
Their darts flew equal, and the people fell;
But when he westward journey’d, by a change 950
Surpassing hope the Grecians then prevail’d.
They drew Cebriones the hero forth
From all those weapons, and his armor stripp’d
At leisure, distant from the battle’s roar.
Then sprang Patroclus on the Trojan host; 955
Thrice, like another Mars, he sprang with shouts
Tremendous, and nine warriors thrice he slew.
But when the fourth time, demon-like, he rush’d
Against them, then, oh then, too manifest
The consummation of thy days approach’d 960
Patroclus! whom Apollo, terror-clad
Met then in battle. He the coming God
Through all that multitude knew not, such gloom
Impenetrable him involved around.
Behind him close he stood, and with his palms 965
Expanded on the spine and shoulders broad
Smote him; his eyes swam dizzy at the stroke.
Then Phœbus from his head his helmet dash’d
To earth; sonorous at the feet it roll’d
Of many a prancing steed, and all the crest 970
Defilement gather’d gross of dust and blood,
Then first; till then, impossible; for how
Should dust the tresses of that helmet shame
With which Achilles fighting fenced his head
417 Illustrious, and his graceful brows divine? 975
But Jove now made it Hector’s; he awhile
Bore it, himself to swift perdition doom’d
His spear brass-mounted, ponderous, huge and long,
Fell shiver’d from his grasp. His shield that swept
His ancle, with its belt dropp’d from his arm, 980
And Phœbus loosed the corselet from his breast.
Confusion seized his brain; his noble limbs
Quaked under him, and panic-stunn’d he stood.
Then came a Dardan Chief, who from behind
Enforced a pointed lance into his back 985
Between the shoulders; Panthus’ son was he,
Euphorbus, famous for equestrian skill,
For spearmanship, and in the rapid race
Past all of equal age. He twenty men
(Although a learner yet of martial feats, 990
And by his steeds then first to battle borne)
Dismounted. He, Patroclus, mighty Chief!
First threw a lance at thee, which yet life
Quell’d not; then snatching hasty from the wound
His ashen beam, he ran into the crowd, 995
Nor dared confront in fight even the unarm’d
Patroclus. But Patroclus, by the lance,
And by the stroke of an immortal hand
Subdued, fell back toward his ranks again.
Then, soon as Hector the retreat perceived 1000
Of brave Patroclus wounded, issuing forth
From his own phalanx, he approach’d and drove
A spear right through his body at the waist.
Sounding he fell. Loud groan’d Achaia’s host.
As when the lion and the sturdy boar 1005
Contend in battle on the mountain-tops
For some scant rivulet, thirst-parch’d alike,
Ere long the lion quells the panting boar;
So Priameian Hector, spear in hand,
Slew Menœtiades the valiant slayer 1010
Of multitudes, and thus in accents wing’d,
With fierce delight exulted in his fall.
418 It was thy thought, Patroclus, to have laid
Our city waste, and to have wafted hence
Our wives and daughters to thy native land, 1015
Their day of liberty for ever set.
Fool! for their sakes the feet of Hector’s steeds
Fly into battle, and myself excel,
For their sakes, all our bravest of the spear,
That I may turn from them that evil hour 1020
Necessitous. But thou art vulture’s food,
Unhappy youth! all valiant as he is,
Achilles
hath no succor given to thee,
Who when he sent the forth whither himself
Would not, thus doubtless gave thee oft in charge: 1025
Ah, well beware, Patroclus, glorious Chief!
That thou revisit not these ships again,
Till first on hero-slaughterer Hector’s breast
Thou cleave his bloody corselet. So he spake,
And with vain words thee credulous beguiled. 1030
To whom Patroclus, mighty Chief, with breath
Drawn faintly, and dying, thou didst thus reply.
Now, Hector, boast! now glory! for the son
Of Saturn and Apollo, me with ease
Vanquishing, whom they had themselves disarm’d, 1035
Have made the victory thine; else, twenty such
As thou, had fallen by my victorious spear.
Me Phœbus and my ruthless fate combined
To slay; these foremost; but of mortal men
Euphorbus, and thy praise is only third. 1040
I tell thee also, and within thy heart
Repose it deep — thou shalt not long survive;
But, even now, fate, and a violent death
Attend thee by Achilles’ hands ordain’d
To perish, by Æacides the brave. 1045
So saying, the shades of death him wrapp’d around.
Down into Ades from his limbs dismiss’d,
419 His spirit fled sorrowful, of youth’s prime
And vigorous manhood suddenly bereft
Then, him though dead, Hector again bespake. 1050
Patroclus! these prophetic strains of death
At hand, and fate, why hast thou sung to me?
May not the son of Thetis azure-hair’d,
Achilles, perish first by spear of mine?
He said; then pressing with his heel the trunk 1055
Supine, and backward thursting it, he drew
His glittering weapon from the wound, nor stay’d,
But lance in hand, the godlike charioteer
Pursued of swift Æacides, on fire
To smite Automedon; but him the steeds 1060
Immortal, rapid, by the Gods conferr’d
(A glorious gift) on Peleus, snatch’d away.
ARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK.
Sharp contest ensues around the body of Patroclus. Hector puts on the armor of Achilles. Menelaus, having dispatched Antilochus to Achilles with news of the death of Patroclus, returns to the battle, and, together with Meriones, bears Patroclus off the field, while the Ajaces cover their retreat.
BOOK XVII.
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 125
