Again led on by Ajax, who in form
And in exploits all others far excell’d.
Peerless Æacides alone except.
Right through the foremost combatants he rush’d,
In force resembling most some savage boar 340
That in the mountains bursting through the brakes,
The swains disperses and their hounds with ease;
Like him, illustrious Ajax, mighty son
Of Telamon, at his assault dispersed
With ease the close imbattled ranks who fought 345
Around Patroclus’ body, strong in hope
To achieve it, and to make the glory theirs.
Hippothoüs, a youth of high renown,
Son of Pelasgian Lethus, by a noose
Around his ancle cast dragg’d through the fight 350
433 Patroclus, so to gratify the host
Of Ilium and their Chief; but evil him
Reached suddenly, by none of all his friends
(Though numerous wish’d to save him) turn’d aside.
For swift advancing on him through the crowd 355
The son of Telamon pierced, spear in hand,
His helmet brazen-cheek’d; the crested casque,
So smitten, open’d wide, for huge the hand
And ponderous was the spear that gave the blow
And all around its neck, mingled with blood 360
Gush’d forth the brain. There, lifeless, down he sank,
Let fall the hero’s foot, and fell himself
Prone on the dead, never to see again?
Deep-soil’d Larissa, never to require
Their kind solicitudes who gave him birth, 365
In bloom of life by dauntless Ajax slain.
Then Hector hurl’d at Ajax his bright spear,
But he, forewarn’d of its approach, escaped
Narrowly, and it pierced Schedius instead,
Brave son of Iphitus; he, noblest Chief 370
Of the Phocensians, over many reign’d,
Dwelling in Panopeus the far-renown’d.
Entering beneath the clavicle the point
Right through his shoulder’s summit pass’d behind,
And on his loud-resounding arms he fell. 375
But Ajax at his waist wounded the son
Of Phœnops, valiant Phorcys, while he stood
Guarding Hippothöus; through his hollow mail
Enforced the weapon drank his inmost life,
And in his palm, supine, he clench’d the dust. 380
Then, Hector with the foremost Chiefs of Troy
Fell back; the Argives sent a shout to heaven,
And dragging Phorcys and Hippothöus thence
Stripp’d both. In that bright moment Ilium’s host
Fear-quell’d before Achaia’s warlike sons 385
Had Troy re-enter’d, and the host of Greece
By matchless might and fortitude their own
434 Had snatch’d a victory from the grasp of fate,
But that, himself, the King of radiant shafts
Æneas roused; Epytis’ son he seem’d 390
Periphas, ancient in the service grown
Of old Anchises whom he dearly loved;
His form assumed, Apollo thus began.
How could ye save, Æneas, were the Gods
Your enemies, the towers of lofty Troy? 395
As I have others seen, warriors who would,
Men fill’d with might and valor, firm themselves
And Chiefs of multitudes disdaining fear.
But Jove to us the victory far more
Than to the Grecians wills; therefore the fault 400
Is yours, who tremble and refuse the fight.
He ended, whom Æneas marking, knew
At once the glorious Archer of the skies,
And thus to distant Hector call’d aloud.
Oh, Hector, and ye other Chiefs of Troy 405
And of her brave confederates! Shame it were
Should we re-enter Ilium, driven to flight
By dastard fear before the host of Greece.
A God assured me even now, that Jove,
Supreme in battle, gives his aid to Troy. 410
Rush, therefore, on the Danaï direct,
Nor let them, safe at least and unannoy’d,
Bear hence Patroclus’ body to the fleet.
He spake, and starting far into the van
Stood foremost forth; they, wheeling, faced the Greeks. 415
Then, spear in hand, Æneas smote the friend
Of Lycomedes, brave Leocritus,
Son of Arisbas. Lycomedes saw
Compassionate his death, and drawing nigh
First stood, then hurling his resplendent lance, 420
Right through the liver Apisaon pierced
Offspring of Hippasus, his chest beneath,
And, lifeless, instant, on the field he fell.
He from Pæonia the deep soil’d to Troy
Came forth, Asteropæus sole except, 425
435 Bravest of all Pæonia’s band in arms.
Asteropæus saw, and to the van
Sprang forth for furious combat well prepared,
But room for fight found none, so thick a fence
Of shields and ported spears fronted secure 430
The phalanx guarding Menœtiades.
For Ajax ranging all the ranks, aloud
Admonish’d them that no man yielding ground
Should leave Patroclus, or advance before
The rest, but all alike fight and stand fast. 435
Such order gave huge Ajax; purple gore
Drench’d all the ground; in slaughter’d heaps they fell
Trojans and Trojan aids of dauntless hearts
And Grecians; for not even they the fight
Waged bloodless, though with far less cost of blood, 440
Each mindful to avert his fellow’s fate.
Thus burn’d the battle; neither hadst thou deem’d
The sun himself in heaven unquench’d, or moon,
Beneath a cope so dense of darkness strove
Unceasing all the most renown’d in arms 445
For Menœtiades. Meantime the war,
Wherever else, the bright-arm’d Grecians waged
And Trojans under skies serene. The sun
On them his radiance darted; not a cloud,
From mountain or from vale rising, allay’d 450
His fervor; there at distance due they fought
And paused by turns, and shunn’d the cruel dart.
But in the middle field not war alone
They suffer’d, but night also; ruthless raged
The iron storm, and all the mightiest bled. 455
Two glorious Chiefs, the while, Antilochus
And Thrasymedes, had no tidings heard
Of brave Patroclus slain, but deem’d him still
Living, and troubling still the host of Troy;
For watchful only to prevent the flight 460
Or slaughter of their fellow-warriors, they
436 Maintain’d a distant station, so enjoin’d
By Nestor when he sent them to the field.
But fiery conflict arduous employ’d
The rest all day continual; knees and legs, 465
Feet, hands, and eyes of those who fought to guard
The valiant friend of swift Æacides
Sweat gather’d foul and dust. As when a man
A huge ox-hide drunken with slippery lard
Gives to be stretch’d, his servants all around 470
Disposed, just intervals between, the task
Ply strenuous, and while many straining hard
Extend it equal on all sides, it sweats
The moisture out, and drinks the unction in,
So they, in narrow space struggling, the dead 475
Dragg’d every way, warm hope conceiving, these
To drag him thence to Troy, those, to the ships.
&nb
sp; Wild tumult raged around him; neither Mars,
Gatherer of hosts to battle, nor herself
Pallas, however angry, had beheld 480
That conflict with disdain, Jove to such length
Protracted on that day the bloody toil
Of steeds and men for Menœtiades.
Nor knew divine Achilles or had aught
Heard of Patroclus slain, for from the ships 485
Remote they fought, beneath the walls of Troy.
He, therefore, fear’d not for his death, but hope
Indulged much rather, that, the battle push’d
To Ilium’s gates, he should return alive.
For that his friend, unaided by himself 490
437 Or ever aided, should prevail to lay
Troy waste, he nought supposed; by Thetis warn’d
In secret conference oft, he better knew
Jove’s purpose; yet not even she had borne
Those dreadful tidings to his ear, the loss 495
Immeasurable of his dearest friend.
They all around the dead fought spear in hand
With mutual slaughter ceaseless, and amid
Achaia’s host thus spake a Chief mail-arm’d.
Shame were it, Grecians! should we seek by flight 500
Our galleys now; yawn earth our feet beneath
And here ingulf us rather! Better far
Than to permit the steed-famed host of Troy
To drag Patroclus hence into the town,
And make the glory of this conflict theirs. 505
Thus also of the dauntless Trojans spake
A certain warrior. Oh, my friends! although
The Fates ordain us, one and all, to die
Around this body, stand! quit not the field.
So spake the warrior prompting into act 510
The courage of his friends, and such they strove
On both sides; high into the vault of heaven
The iron din pass’d through the desart air.
Meantime the horses of Æacides
From fight withdrawn, soon as they understood 515
Their charioteer fallen in the dust beneath
The arm of homicidal Hector, wept.
Them oft with hasty lash Diores’ son
Automedon impatient smote, full oft
He stroked them gently, and as oft he chode; 520
Yet neither to the fleet ranged on the shore
Of spacious Hellespont would they return,
Nor with the Grecians seek the fight, but stood
As a sepulchral pillar stands, unmoved
Between their traces; to the earth they hung 525
438 Their heads, with plenteous tears their driver mourn’d,
And mingled their dishevell’d manes with dust.
Jove saw their grief with pity, and his brows
Shaking, within himself thus, pensive, said.
Ah hapless pair! Wherefore by gift divine 530
Were ye to Peleus given, a mortal king,
Yourselves immortal and from age exempt?
Was it that ye might share in human woes?
For, of all things that breathe or creep the earth,
No creature lives so mere a wretch as man. 535
Yet shall not Priameian Hector ride
Triumphant, drawn by you. Myself forbid.
Suffice it that he boasts vain-gloriously
Those arms his own. Your spirit and your limbs
I will invigorate, that ye may bear 540
Safe hence Automedon into the fleet.
For I ordain the Trojans still to spread
Carnage around victorious, till they reach
The gallant barks, and till the sun at length
Descending, sacred darkness cover all. 545
He said, and with new might the steeds inspired.
They, shaking from their hair profuse the dust,
Between the van of either army whirl’d
The rapid chariot. Fighting as he pass’d,
Though fill’d with sorrow for his slaughter’d friend, 550
Automedon high-mounted swept the field
Impetuous as a vulture scattering geese;
Now would he vanish, and now, turn’d again,
Chase through a multitude his trembling foe;
But whomsoe’er he follow’d, none he slew, 555
Nor was the task possible to a Chief
Sole in the sacred chariot, both to aim
The spear aright and guide the fiery steeds.
439 At length Alcimedon, his friend in arms,
Son of Laerceus son of Æmon, him 560
Observing, from behind the chariot hail’d
The flying warrior, whom he thus bespake.
What power, Automedon! hath ta’en away
Thy better judgment, and thy breast inspired
With this vain purpose to assail alone 565
The Trojan van? Thy partner in the fight
Is slain, and Hector on his shoulders bears,
Elate, the armor of Æacides.
Then, answer thus Automedon return’d,
Son of Diores. Who of all our host 570
Was ever skill’d, Alcimedon! as thou
To rule the fire of these immortal steeds,
Save only while he lived, peer of the Gods
In that great art, Patroclus, now no more?
Thou, therefore, the resplendent reins receive 575
And scourge, while I, dismounting, wage the fight.
He ceased; Alcimedon without delay
The battle-chariot mounting, seized at once
The lash and reins, and from his seat down leap’d
Automedon. Them noble Hector mark’d, 580
And to Æneas at his side began.
Illustrious Chief of Trojans brazen-mail’d
Æneas! I have noticed yonder steeds
Of swift Achilles rushing into fight
Conspicuous, but under sway of hands 585
Unskilful; whence arises a fair hope
That we might seize them, wert thou so inclined;
For never would those two dare to oppose
In battle an assault dreadful as ours.
He ended, nor the valiant son refused 590
Of old Anchises, but with targets firm
Of season’d hide brass-plated thrown athwart
Their shoulders, both advanced direct, with whom
Of godlike form Aretus also went
And Chromius. Ardent hope they all conceived 595
To slay those Chiefs, and from the field to drive
440 Achilles’ lofty steeds. Vain hope! for them
No bloodless strife awaited with the force
Of brave Automedon; he, prayer to Jove
First offering, felt his angry soul with might 600
Heroic fill’d, and thus his faithful friend
Alcimedon, incontinent, address’d.
Alcimedon! hold not the steeds remote
But breathing on my back; for I expect
That never Priameïan Hector’s rage 605
Shall limit know, or pause, till, slaying us,
He shall himself the coursers ample-maned
Mount of Achilles, and to flight compel
The Argive host, or perish in the van.
So saying, he call’d aloud on Menelaus 610
With either Ajax. Oh, illustrious Chiefs
Of Argos, Menelaus, and ye bold
Ajaces! leaving all your best to cope
With Ilium’s powers and to protect the dead,
From friends still living ward the bitter day. 615
For hither borne, two Chiefs, bravest of all
The Trojans, Hector and Æneas rush
Right through the battle. The events of war
Heaven orders; therefore even I will give
My spear its flight, and Jove dispose the rest! 620
He said, and brandishing his massy spear
Dismiss’d it at A
retus; full he smote
His ample shield, nor stay’d the pointed brass,
But penetrating sheer the disk, his belt
Pierced also, and stood planted in his waist. 625
As when some vigorous youth with sharpen’d axe
A pastured bullock smites behind the horns
And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke
Springs forth and falls, so sprang Aretus forth,
Then fell supine, and in his bowels stood 630
The keen-edged lance still quivering till he died.
Then Hector, in return, his radiant spear
441 Hurl’d at Automedon, who of its flight
Forewarn’d his body bowing prone, the stroke
Eluded, and the spear piercing the soil 635
Behind him, shook to its superior end,
Till, spent by slow degrees, its fury slept.
And now, with hand to hilt, for closer war
Both stood prepared, when through the multitude
Advancing at their fellow-warrior’s call, 640
The Ajaces suddenly their combat fierce
Prevented. Awed at once by their approach
Hector retired, with whom Æneas went
Also and godlike Chromius, leaving there
Aretus with his vitals torn, whose arms, 645
Fierce as the God of war Automedon
Stripp’d off, and thus exulted o’er the slain.
My soul some portion of her grief resigns
Consoled, although by slaughter of a worse,
For loss of valiant Menœtiades. 650
So saying, within his chariot he disposed
The gory spoils, then mounted it himself
With hands and feet purpled, as from a bull
His bloody prey, some lion newly-gorged.
And now around Patroclus raged again 655
Dread strife deplorable! for from the skies
Descending at the Thunderer’s command
Whose purpose now was to assist the Greeks,
Pallas enhanced the fury of the fight.
As when from heaven, in view of mortals, Jove 660
Exhibits bright his bow, a sign ordain’d
Of war, or numbing frost which all the works
Suspends of man and saddens all the flocks;
So she, all mantled with a radiant cloud
Entering Achaia’s host, fired every breast. 665
But meeting Menelaus first, brave son
Of Atreus, in the form and with the voice
Robust of Phœnix, him she thus bespake.
Shame, Menelaus, shall to thee redound
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 127
