To Jove he pray’d, while, all around, the Greeks
Sat listening silent to the Sovereign’s voice.
He look’d to the wide heaven, and thus he pray’d.
First, Jove be witness! of all Powers above 310
Best and supreme; Earth next, and next the Sun!
And last, who under Earth the guilt avenge
Of oaths sworn falsely, let the Furies hear!
484 For no respect of amorous desire
Or other purpose, have I laid mine hand 315
On fair Brisëis, but within my tent
Untouch’d, immaculate she hath remain’d.
And if I falsely swear, then may the Gods
The many woes with which they mark the crime
Of men forsworn, pour also down on me! 320
So saying, he pierced the victim in his throat
And, whirling him around, Talthybius, next,
Cast him into the ocean, fishes’ food.
Then, in the centre of Achaia’s sons
Uprose Achilles, and thus spake again. 325
Jove! Father! dire calamities, effects
Of thy appointment, fall on human-kind.
Never had Agamemnon in my breast
Such anger kindled, never had he seized,
Blinded by wrath, and torn my prize away, 330
But that the slaughter of our numerous friends
Which thence ensued, thou hadst, thyself, ordained.
Now go, ye Grecians, eat, and then to battle.
So saying, Achilles suddenly dissolved
The hasty council, and all flew dispersed 335
To their own ships. Then took the Myrmidons
Those splendid gifts which in the tent they lodged
Of swift Achilles, and the damsels led
Each to a seat, while others of his train
Drove forth the steeds to pasture with his herd. 340
But when Brisëis, bright as Venus, saw
Patroclus lying mangled by the spear,
Enfolding him around, she shriek’d and tore
Her bosom, her smooth neck and beauteous cheeks.
Then thus, divinely fair, with tears she said. 345
Ah, my Patroclus! dearest friend of all
To hapless me, departing from this tent
I left thee living, and now, generous Chief!
Restored to it again, here find thee dead.
485 How rapid in succession are my woes! 350
I saw, myself, the valiant prince to whom
My parents had betroth’d me, slain before
Our city walls; and my three brothers, sons
Of my own mother, whom with long regret
I mourn, fell also in that dreadful field. 355
But when the swift Achilles slew the prince
Design’d my spouse, and the fair city sack’d
Of noble Mynes, thou by every art
Of tender friendship didst forbid my tears,
Promising oft that thou would’st make me bride 360
Of Peleus’ godlike son, that thy own ship
Should waft me hence to Phthia, and that thyself
Would’st furnish forth among the Myrmidons
Our nuptial feast. Therefore thy death I mourn
Ceaseless, for thou wast ever kind to me. 365
She spake, and all her fellow-captives heaved
Responsive sighs, deploring each, in show,
The dead Patroclus, but, in truth, herself.
Then the Achaian Chiefs gather’d around
Achilles, wooing him to eat, but he 370
Groan’d and still resolute, their suit refused —
If I have here a friend on whom by prayers
I may prevail, I pray that ye desist,
Nor longer press me, mourner as I am,
To eat or drink, for till the sun go down 375
I am inflexible, and will abstain.
So saying, the other princes he dismiss’d
Impatient, but the sons of Atreus both,
Ulysses, Nestor and Idomeneus,
With Phœnix, hoary warrior, in his tent 380
Abiding still, with cheerful converse kind
Essay’d to soothe him, whose afflicted soul
All soothing scorn’d till he should once again
486 Rush on the ravening edge of bloody war.
Then, mindful of his friend, groaning he said 385
Time was, unhappiest, dearest of my friends!
When even thou, with diligent dispatch,
Thyself, hast spread a table in my tent,
The hour of battle drawing nigh between
The Greeks and warlike Trojans. But there lies 390
Thy body now, gored by the ruthless steel,
And for thy sake I neither eat nor drink,
Though dearth be none, conscious that other wo
Surpassing this I can have none to fear.
No, not if tidings of my father’s death 395
Should reach me, who, this moment, weeps, perhaps,
In Phthia tears of tenderest regret
For such a son; while I, remote from home
Fight for detested Helen under Troy.
Nor even were he dead, whom, if he live, 400
I rear in Scyros, my own darling son,
My Neoptolemus of form divine.
For still this hope I cherish’d in my breast
Till now, that, of us two, myself alone
Should fall at Ilium, and that thou, restored 405
To Phthia, should’st have wafted o’er the waves
My son from Scyros to his native home,
That thou might’st show him all his heritage,
My train of menials, and my fair abode.
For either dead already I account 410
Peleus, or doubt not that his residue
Of miserable life shall soon be spent,
Through stress of age and expectation sad
That tidings of my death shall, next, arrive.
So spake Achilles weeping, around whom 415
The Chiefs all sigh’d, each with remembrance pain’d
Of some loved object left at home. Meantime
Jove, with compassion moved, their sorrow saw,
And in wing’d accents thus to Pallas spake.
487 Daughter! thou hast abandon’d, as it seems, 420
Yon virtuous Chief for ever; shall no care
Thy mind engage of brave Achilles more?
Before his gallant fleet mourning he sits
His friend, disconsolate; the other Greeks
Sat and are satisfied; he only fasts. 425
Go then — instil nectar into his breast,
And sweets ambrosial, that he hunger not.
So saying, he urged Minerva prompt before.
In form a shrill-voiced Harpy of long wing
Through ether down she darted, while the Greeks 430
In all their camp for instant battle arm’d.
Ambrosial sweets and nectar she instill’d
Into his breast, lest he should suffer loss
Of strength through abstinence, then soar’d again
To her great Sire’s unperishing abode. 435
And now the Grecians from their gallant fleet
All pour’d themselves abroad. As when thick snow
From Jove descends, driven by impetuous gusts
Of the cloud-scattering North, so frequent shone
Issuing from the fleet the dazzling casques, 440
Boss’d bucklers, hauberks strong, and ashen spears.
Upwent the flash to heaven; wide all around
The champain laugh’d with beamy brass illumed,
And tramplings of the warriors on all sides
Resounded, amidst whom Achilles arm’d. 445
He gnash’d his teeth, fire glimmer’d in his eyes,
Anguish intolerable wrung his heart
And fury against Troy, while he put on
His glorious a
rms, the labor of a God.
First, to his legs his polish’d greaves he clasp’d 450
Studded with silver, then his corselet bright
Braced to his bosom, his huge sword of brass
Athwart his shoulder slung, and his broad shield
Uplifted last, luminous as the moon.
Such as to mariners a fire appears, 455
Kindled by shepherds on the distant top
Of some lone hill; they, driven by stormy winds,
488 Reluctant roam far off the fishy deep,
Such from Achilles’ burning shield divine
A lustre struck the skies; his ponderous helm 460
He lifted to his brows; starlike it shone,
And shook its curling crest of bushy gold,
By Vulcan taught to wave profuse around.
So clad, godlike Achilles trial made
If his arms fitted him, and gave free scope 465
To his proportion’d limbs; buoyant they proved
As wings, and high upbore his airy tread.
He drew his father’s spear forth from his case,
Heavy and huge and long. That spear, of all
Achaia’s sons, none else had power to wield; 470
Achilles only could the Pelian spear
Brandish, by Chiron for his father hewn
From Pelion’s top for slaughter of the brave.
His coursers, then, Automedon prepared
And Alcimus, adjusting diligent 475
The fair caparisons; they thrust the bits
Into their mouths, and to the chariot seat
Extended and made fast the reins behind.
The splendid scourge commodious to the grasp
Seizing, at once Automedon upsprang 480
Into his place; behind him, arm’d complete
Achilles mounted, as the orient sun
All dazzling, and with awful tone his speech
Directed to the coursers of his Sire.
Xanthus, and Balius of Podarges’ blood 485
Illustrious! see ye that, the battle done,
Ye bring whom now ye bear back to the host
Of the Achaians in far other sort,
Nor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, dead.
Him then his steed unconquer’d in the race, 490
489 Xanthus answer’d from beneath his yoke,
But, hanging low his head, and with his mane
Dishevell’d all, and streaming to the ground.
Him Juno vocal made, Goddess white-arm’d.
And doubtless so we will. This day at least 495
We bear thee safe from battle, stormy Chief!
But thee the hour of thy destruction swift
Approaches, hasten’d by no fault of ours,
But by the force of fate and power divine.
For not through sloth or tardiness on us 500
Aught chargeable, have Ilium’s sons thine arms
Stript from Patroclus’ shoulders, but a God
Matchless in battle, offspring of bright-hair’d
Latona, him contending in the van
Slew, for the glory of the Chief of Troy. 505
We, Zephyrus himself, though by report
Swiftest of all the winds of heaven, in speed
Could equal, but the Fates thee also doom
By human hands to fall, and hands divine.
The interposing Furies at that word 510
Suppress’d his utterance, and indignant, thus,
Achilles, swiftest of the swift, replied.
Why, Xanthus, propheciest thou my death?
It ill beseems thee. I already know
That from my parents far remote my doom 515
Appoints me here to die; yet not the more
Cease I from feats if arms, till Ilium’s host
Shall have received, at length, their fill of war.
He said, and with a shout drove forth to battle.
ARGUMENT OF THE TWENTIETH BOOK.
By permission of Jupiter the Gods descend into the battle, and range themselves on either side respectively. Neptune rescues Æneas from death by the hand of Achilles, from whom Apollo, soon after, rescues Hector. Achilles slays many Trojans.
BOOK XX.
The Grecians, thus, before their lofty ships
Stood arm’d around Achilles, glorious Chief
Insatiable with war, and opposite
The Trojans on the rising-ground appear’d.
Meantime, Jove order’d Themis, from the head 5
Of the deep-fork’d Olympian to convene
The Gods in council. She to every part
Proceeding, bade them to the courts of Jove.
Nor of the Floods was any absent thence
Oceanus except, or of the Nymphs 10
Who haunt the pleasant groves, or dwell beside
Stream-feeding fountains, or in meadows green.
Within the courts of cloud-assembler Jove
Arrived, on pillar’d thrones radiant they sat,
With ingenuity divine contrived 15
By Vulcan for the mighty Sire of all.
Thus they within the Thunderer’s palace sat
Assembled; nor was Neptune slow to hear
494 The voice of Themis, but (the billows left)
Came also; in the midst his seat he took, 20
And ask’d, incontinent, the mind of Jove.
King of the lightnings! wherefore hast thou call’d
The Gods to council? Hast thou aught at heart
Important to the hosts of Greece and Troy?
For on the battle’s fiery edge they stand. 25
To whom replied Jove, Sovereign of the storms,
Thou know’st my council, Shaker of the shores!
And wherefore ye are call’d. Although ordain’d
So soon to die, they interest me still.
Myself, here seated on Olympus’ top, 30
With contemplation will my mind indulge
Of yon great spectacle; but ye, the rest,
Descend into the field, Trojan or Greek
Each to assist, as each shall most incline.
For should Achilles in the field no foe 35
Find save the Trojans, quickly should they fly
Before the rapid force of Peleus’ son.
They trembled ever at his look, and since
Such fury for his friend hath fired his heart,
I fear lest he anticipate the will 40
Of Fate, and Ilium perish premature.
So spake the son of Saturn kindling war
Inevitable, and the Gods to fight
‘Gan move with minds discordant. Juno sought
And Pallas, with the earth-encircling Power 45
Neptune, the Grecian fleet, with whom were join’d
Mercury, teacher of all useful arts,
And Vulcan, rolling on all sides his eyes
Tremendous, but on disproportion’d legs,
Not without labor hard, halting uncouth. 50
Mars, warrior-God, on Ilium’s part appear’d
With Phœbus never-shorn, Dian shaft-arm’d,
Xanthus, Latona, and the Queen of smiles,
495 Venus. So long as the immortal Gods
Mixed not with either host, Achaia’s sons 55
Exulted, seeing, after tedious pause,
Achilles in the field, and terror shook
The knees of every Trojan, at the sight
Of swift Achilles like another Mars
Panting for blood, and bright in arms again. 60
But when the Olympian Powers had enter’d once
The multitude, then Discord, at whose voice
The million maddens, vehement arose;
Then, Pallas at the trench without the wall
By turns stood shouting, and by turns a shout 65
Sent terrible along the sounding shore,
While, gloomy as a tempest, opposite,
Mars from the lofty citadel of Troy
&
nbsp; Now yell’d aloud, now running o’er the hill
Callicolone, on the Simois’ side. 70
Thus the Immortals, ever-blest, impell’d
Both hosts to battle, and dire inroad caused
Of strife among them. Sudden from on high
The Sire of Gods and men thunder’d; meantime,
Neptune the earth and the high mountains shook; 75
Through all her base and to her topmost peak
Ida spring-fed the agitation felt
Reeling, all Ilium and the fleet of Greece.
Upstarted from his throne, appall’d, the King
Of Erebus, and with a cry his fears 80
Through hell proclaim’d, lest Neptune, o’er his head
Shattering the vaulted earth, should wide disclose
To mortal and immortal eyes his realm
Terrible, squalid, to the Gods themselves
A dreaded spectacle; with such a sound 85
The Powers eternal into battle rush’d.
496 Opposed to Neptune, King of the vast Deep,
Apollo stood with his wing’d arrows arm’d;
Pallas to Mars; Diana shaft-expert,
Sister of Phœbus, in her golden bow 90
Rejoicing, with whose shouts the forests ring
To Juno; Mercury, for useful arts
Famed, to Latona; and to Vulcan’s force
The eddied River broad by mortal men
Scamander call’d, but Xanthus by the Gods. 95
So Gods encounter’d Gods. But most desire
Achilles felt, breaking the ranks, to rush
On Priameian Hector, with whose blood
Chiefly his fury prompted him to sate
The indefatigable God of war. 100
But, the encourager of Ilium’s host
Apollo, urged Æneas to assail
The son of Peleus, with heroic might
Inspiring his bold heart. He feign’d the voice
Of Priam’s son Lycaon, and his form 105
Assuming, thus the Trojan Chief address’d.
Æneas! Trojan leader! where are now
Thy vaunts, which, banqueting erewhile among
Our princes, o’er thy brimming cups thou mad’st,
That thou would’st fight, thyself, with Peleus’ son? 110
To whom Æneas answer thus returned.
Offspring of Priam! why enjoin’st thou me
Not so inclined, that arduous task, to cope
With the unmatch’d Achilles? I have proved
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 132
