Shall others leave mutilate in the midst.
I will encounter him, though his hands be fire, 455
Though fire his hands, and his heart hammer’d steel.
So spake he them exhorting. At his word
Uprose the Trojan spears, thick intermixt
The battle join’d, and clamor loud began.
Then thus, approaching Hector, Phœbus spake. 460
Henceforth, advance not Hector! in the front
Seeking Achilles, but retired within
The stormy multitude his coming wait,
Lest his spear reach thee, or his glittering sword.
He said, and Hector far into his host 465
Withdrew, admonish’d by the voice divine.
Then, shouting terrible, and clothed with might,
Achilles sprang to battle. First, he slew
The valiant Chief Iphition, whom a band
Numerous obey’d. Otrynteus was his sire. 470
Him to Otrynteus, city-waster Chief,
A Naiad under snowy Tmolus bore
In fruitful Hyda. Right into his front
As he advanced, Achilles drove his spear,
And rived his skull; with thundering sound he fell, 475
And thus the conqueror gloried in his fall.
Ah Otryntides! thou art slain. Here lies
The terrible in arms, who born beside
The broad Gygæan lake, where Hyllus flows
And Hermus, call’d the fertile soil his own. 480
Thus gloried he. Meantime the shades of death
Cover’d Iphition, and Achaian wheels
And horses ground his body in the van.
Demoleon next, Antenor’s son, a brave
Defender of the walls of Troy, he slew. 485
Into his temples through his brazen casque
He thrust the Pelian ash, nor could the brass
507 Such force resist, but the huge weapon drove
The shatter’d bone into his inmost brain,
And his fierce onset at a stroke repress’d. 490
Hippodamas his weapon next received
Within his spine, while with a leap he left
His steeds and fled. He, panting forth his life,
Moan’d like a bull, by consecrated youths
Dragg’d round the Heliconian King, who views 495
That victim with delight. So, with loud moans
The noble warrior sigh’d his soul away.
Then, spear in hand, against the godlike son
Of Priam, Polydorus, he advanced.
Not yet his father had to him indulged 500
A warrior’s place, for that of all his sons
He was the youngest-born, his hoary sire’s
Chief darling, and in speed surpass’d them all.
Then also, in the vanity of youth,
For show of nimbleness, he started oft 505
Into the vanward, till at last he fell.
Him gliding swiftly by, swifter than he
Achilles with a javelin reach’d; he struck
His belt behind him, where the golden clasps
Met, and the double hauberk interposed. 510
The point transpierced his bowels, and sprang through
His navel; screaming, on his knees he fell,
Death-shadows dimm’d his eyes, and with both hands,
Stooping, he press’d his gather’d bowels back.
But noble Hector, soon as he beheld 515
His brother Polydorus to the earth
Inclined, and with his bowels in his hands,
Sightless well-nigh with anguish could endure
No longer to remain aloof; flame-like
He burst abroad, and shaking his sharp spear, 520
508 Advanced to meet Achilles, whose approach
Seeing, Achilles bounded with delight,
And thus, exulting, to himself he said.
Ah! he approaches, who hath stung my soul
Deepest, the slayer of whom most I loved! 525
Behold, we meet! Caution is at an end,
And timid skulking in the walks of war.
He ceased, and with a brow knit into frowns,
Call’d to illustrious Hector. Haste, approach,
That I may quick dispatch thee to the shades. 530
Whom answer’d warlike Hector, nought appall’d.
Pelides! hope not, as I were a boy,
With words to scare me. I have also taunts
At my command, and can be sharp as thou.
I know thee valiant, and myself I know 535
Inferior far; yet, whether thou shalt slay
Me, or, inferior as I am, be slain
By me, is at the pleasure of the Gods,
For I wield also not a pointless beam.
He said, and, brandishing it, hurl’d his spear, 540
Which Pallas, breathing softly, wafted back
From the renown’d Achilles, and it fell
Successless at illustrious Hector’s feet.
Then, all on fire to slay him, with a shout
That rent the air Achilles rapid flew 545
Toward him; but him wrapt in clouds opaque
Apollo caught with ease divine away.
Thrice, swift Achilles sprang to the assault
Impetuous, thrice the pitchy cloud he smote,
And at his fourth assault, godlike in act, 550
And terrible in utterance, thus exclaim’d.
Dog! thou art safe, and hast escaped again;
But narrowly, and by the aid once more
Of Phœbus, without previous suit to whom
Thou venturest never where the javelin sings. 555
But when we next encounter, then expect,
509 If one of all in heaven aid also me,
To close thy proud career. Meantime I seek
Some other, and assail e’en whom I may.
So saying, he pierced the neck of Dryops through, 560
And at his feet he fell. Him there he left,
And turning on a valiant warrior huge,
Philetor’s son, Demuchus, in the knee
Pierced, and detain’d him by the planted spear,
Till with his sword he smote him, and he died. 565
Laogonus and Dardanus he next
Assaulted, sons of Bias; to the ground
Dismounting both, one with his spear he slew,
The other with his falchion at a blow.
Tros too, Alastor’s son — he suppliant clasp’d 570
Achilles’ knees, and for his pity sued,
Pleading equality of years, in hope
That he would spare, and send him thence alive.
Ah dreamer! ignorant how much in vain
That suit he urged; for not of milky mind, 575
Or placable in temper was the Chief
To whom he sued, but fiery. With both hands
His knees he clasp’d importunate, and he
Fast by the liver gash’d him with his sword.
His liver falling forth, with sable blood 580
His bosom fill’d, and darkness veil’d his eyes.
Then, drawing close to Mulius, in his ear
He set the pointed brass, and at a thrust
Sent it, next moment, through his ear beyond.
Then, through the forehead of Agenor’s son 585
Echechlus, his huge-hafted blade he drove,
And death and fate forever veil’d his eyes.
Next, where the tendons of the elbow meet,
Striking Deucalion, through his wrist he urged
The brazen point; he all defenceless stood, 590
Expecting death; down came Achilles’ blade
Full on his neck; away went head and casque
Together; from his spine the marrow sprang,
And at his length outstretch’d he press’d the plain.
510 From him to Rhigmus, Pireus’ noble son, 595
He flew, a warrior from the fields of Thr
ace.
Him through the loins he pierced, and with the beam
Fixt in his bowels, to the earth he fell;
Then piercing, as he turn’d to flight, the spine
Of Areithöus his charioteer, 600
He thrust him from his seat; wild with dismay
Back flew the fiery coursers at his fall.
As a devouring fire within the glens
Of some dry mountain ravages the trees,
While, blown around, the flames roll to all sides, 605
So, on all sides, terrible as a God,
Achilles drove the death-devoted host
Of Ilium, and the champain ran with blood.
As when the peasant his yoked steers employs
To tread his barley, the broad-fronted pair 610
With ponderous hoofs trample it out with ease,
So, by magnanimous Achilles driven,
His coursers solid-hoof’d stamp’d as they ran
The shields, at once, and bodies of the slain;
Blood spatter’d all his axle, and with blood 615
From the horse-hoofs and from the fellied wheels
His chariot redden’d, while himself, athirst
For glory, his unconquerable hands
Defiled with mingled carnage, sweat, and dust.
ARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-FIRST BOOK.
Achilles having separated the Trojans, and driven one part of them to the city and the other into the Scamander, takes twelve young men alive, his intended victims to the manes of Patroclus. The river overflowing his banks with purpose to overwhelm him, is opposed by Vulcan, and gladly relinquishes the attempt. The battle of the gods ensues. Apollo, in the form of Agenor, decoys Achilles from the town, which in the mean time the Trojans enter and shut the gates against him.
BOOK XXI.
But when they came, at length, where Xanthus winds
His stream vortiginous from Jove derived,
There, separating Ilium’s host, he drove
Part o’er the plain to Troy in the same road
By which the Grecians had so lately fled 5
The fury of illustrious Hector’s arm.
That way they fled pouring themselves along
Flood-like, and Juno, to retard them, threw
Darkness as night before them. Other part,
Push’d down the sides of Xanthus, headlong plunged 10
With dashing sound into his dizzy stream,
And all his banks re-echoed loud the roar.
They, struggling, shriek’d in silver eddies whirl’d.
As when, by violence of fire expell’d,
Locusts uplifted on the wing escape 15
To some broad river, swift the sudden blaze
Pursues them, they, astonish’d, strew the flood,
514 So, by Achilles driven, a mingled throng
Of horses and of warriors overspread
Xanthus, and glutted all his sounding course 20
He, chief of heroes, leaving on the bank
His spear against a tamarisk reclined,
Plunged like a God, with falchion arm’d alone
But fill’d with thoughts of havoc. On all sides
Down came his edge; groans follow’d dread to hear 25
Of warriors smitten by the sword, and all
The waters as they ran redden’d with blood.
As smaller fishes, flying the pursuit
Of some huge dolphin, terrified, the creeks
And secret hollows of a haven fill, 30
For none of all that he can seize he spares,
So lurk’d the trembling Trojans in the caves
Of Xanthus’ awful flood. But he (his hands
Wearied at length with slaughter) from the rest
Twelve youths selected whom to death he doom’d, 35
In vengeance for his loved Patroclus slain.
Them stupified with dread like fawns he drove
Forth from the river, manacling their hands
Behind them fast with their own tunic-strings,
And gave them to his warrior train in charge. 40
Then, ardent still for blood, rushing again
Toward the stream, Dardanian Priam’s son
He met, Lycaon, as he climb’d the bank.
Him erst by night, in his own father’s field
Finding him, he had led captive away. 45
Lycaon was employ’d cutting green shoots
Of the wild-fig for chariot-rings, when lo!
Terrible, unforeseen, Achilles came.
He seized and sent him in a ship afar
To Lemnos; there the son of Jason paid 50
His price, and, at great cost, Eëtion
The guest of Jason, thence redeeming him,
515 Sent him to fair Arisba; but he ‘scaped
Thence also and regain’d his father’s house.
Eleven days, at his return, he gave 55
To recreation joyous with his friends,
And on the twelfth his fate cast him again
Into Achilles’ hands, who to the shades
Now doom’d him, howsoever loth to go.
Soon as Achilles swiftest of the swift 60
Him naked saw (for neither spear had he
Nor shield nor helmet, but, when he emerged,
Weary and faint had cast them all away)
Indignant to his mighty self he said.
Gods! I behold a miracle! Ere long 65
The valiant Trojans whom my self have slain
Shall rise from Erebus, for he is here,
The self-same warrior whom I lately sold
At Lemnos, free, and in the field again.
The hoary deep is prison strong enough 70
For most, but not for him. Now shall he taste
The point of this my spear, that I may learn
By sure experience, whether hell itself
That holds the strongest fast, can him detain,
Or whether he shall thence also escape. 75
While musing thus he stood, stunn’d with dismay
The youth approach’d, eager to clasp his knees,
For vehement he felt the dread of death
Working within him; with his Pelian ash
Uplifted high noble Achilles stood 80
Ardent to smite him; he with body bent
Ran under it, and to his knees adhered;
The weapon, missing him, implanted stood
Close at his back, when, seizing with one hand
Achilles’ knees, he with the other grasp’d 85
The dreadful beam, resolute through despair,
And in wing’d accents suppliant thus began.
Oh spare me! pity me! Behold I clasp
516 Thy knees, Achilles! Ah, illustrious Chief!
Reject not with disdain a suppliant’s prayer. 90
I am thy guest also, who at thy own board
Have eaten bread, and did partake the gift
Of Ceres with thee on the very day
When thou didst send me in yon field surprised
For sale to sacred Lemnos, far remote, 95
And for my price receiv’dst a hundred beeves.
Loose me, and I will yield thee now that sum
Thrice told. Alas! this morn is but the twelfth
Since, after numerous hardships, I arrived
Once more in Troy, and now my ruthless lot 100
Hath given me into thy hands again.
Jove cannot less than hate me, who hath twice
Made me thy prisoner, and my doom was death,
Death in my prime, the day when I was born
Son of Laothöe from Alta sprung, 105
From Alta, whom the Leleges obey
On Satnio’s banks in lofty Pedasus.
His daughter to his other numerous wives
King Priam added, and two sons she bore
Only to be deprived by thee of both. 110
My brother hath already died, in front
Of Ili
um’s infantry, by thy bright spear,
The godlike Polydorus; and like doom
Shall now be mine, for I despair to escape
Thine hands, to which the Gods yield me again. 115
But hear and mark me well. My birth was not
From the same womb as Hector’s, who hath slain
Thy valiant friend for clemency renown’d.
Such supplication the illustrious son
Of Priam made, but answer harsh received. 120
Fool! speak’st of ransom? Name it not to me.
For till my friend his miserable fate
Accomplish’d, I was somewhat given to spare,
And numerous, whom I seized alive, I sold.
But now, of all the Trojans whom the Gods 125
Deliver to me, none shall death escape,
517 ‘Specially of the house of Priam, none.
Die therefore, even thou, my friend! What mean
Thy tears unreasonably shed and vain?
Died not Patroclus. braver far than thou? 130
And look on me — see’st not to what a height
My stature towers, and what a bulk I boast?
A King begat me, and a Goddess bore.
What then! A death by violence awaits
Me also, and at morn, or eve, or noon, 135
I perish, whensoe’er the destined spear
Shall reach me, or the arrow from the nerve.
He ceased, and where the suppliant kneel’d, he died.
Quitting the spear, with both hands spread abroad
He sat, but swift Achilles with his sword 140
‘Twixt neck and key-bone smote him, and his blade
Of double edge sank all into the wound.
He prone extended on the champain lay
Bedewing with his sable blood the glebe,
Till, by the foot, Achilles cast him far 145
Into the stream, and, as he floated down,
Thus in wing’d accents, glorying, exclaim’d.
Lie there, and feed the fishes, which shall lick
Thy blood secure. Thy mother ne’er shall place
Thee on thy bier, nor on thy body weep, 150
But swift Scamander on his giddy tide
Shall bear thee to the bosom of the sea.
There, many a fish shall through the crystal flood
Ascending to the rippled surface, find
Lycaon’s pamper’d flesh delicious fare. 155
Die Trojans! till we reach your city, you
Fleeing, and slaughtering, I. This pleasant stream
Of dimpling silver which ye worship oft
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 134
