iliad13to24-new.htm - 3059 - correcting digitization of the Iliad

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<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Iliad, by Homer</title>

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<h1>The Iliad</h1>

<h2 class="no-break">by Homer</h2>

<hr />

<h2>Contents</h2>

<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap13">BOOK XIII.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap14">BOOK XIV.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap15">BOOK XV.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap16">BOOK XVI.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap17">BOOK XVII.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap18">BOOK XVIII.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap19">BOOK XIX.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap20">BOOK XX.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap21">BOOK XXI.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap22">BOOK XXII.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap23">BOOK XXIII.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap24">BOOK XXIV.</a></td>
</tr>

</table>

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap13"></a>BOOK XIII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
Poseidon stirreth up the Achaians to defend the ships. The valour of Idomeneus.
</p>

<p>
Now Zeus, after that he had brought the Trojans and Hector to the ships, left
them to their toil and endless labour there, but otherwhere again he turned his
shining eyes, and looked upon the land of the Thracian horsebreeders, and the
Mysians, fierce fighters hand to hand, and the proud Hippemolgoi that drink
mare&rsquo;s milk, and the Abioi, the most righteous of men. To Troy no more at
all he turned his shining eyes, for he deemed in his heart that not one of the
Immortals would draw near, to help either Trojans or Danaans.
</p>

<p>
But the mighty Earth-shaker held no blind watch, who sat and marvelled on the
war and strife, high on the topmost crest of wooded Samothrace, for thence all
Ida was plain to see; and plain to see were the city of Priam, and the ships of
the Achaians. Thither did he go from the sea and sate him down, and he had pity
on the Achaians, that they were subdued to the Trojans, and strong was his
anger against Zeus.
</p>

<p>
Then forthwith he went down from the rugged hill, faring with swift steps, and
the high hills trembled, and the woodland, beneath the immortal footsteps of
Poseidon as he moved. Three strides he made, and with the fourth he reached his
goal, even Aigae, and there was his famous palace in the deeps of the mere, his
glistering golden mansions builded, imperishable for ever. Thither went he, and
let harness to the car his bronze-hooved horses, swift of flight, clothed with
their golden manes. He girt his own golden array about his body, and seized the
well-wrought lash of gold, and mounted his chariot, and forth he drove across
the waves. And the sea beasts frolicked beneath him, on all sides out of the
deeps, for well they knew their lord, and with gladness the sea stood asunder,
and swiftly they sped, and the axle of bronze was not wetted beneath, and the
bounding steeds bare him on to the ships of the Achaians.
</p>

<p>
Now there is a spacious cave in the depths of the deep mere, between Tenedos
and rugged Imbros; there did Poseidon, the Shaker of the earth, stay his
horses, and loosed them out of the chariot, and cast before them ambrosial food
to graze withal, and golden tethers he bound about their hooves, tethers
neither to be broken nor loosed, that there the horses might continually await
their lord&rsquo;s return. And he went to the host of the Achaians.
</p>

<p>
Now the Trojans like flame or storm-wind were following in close array, with
fierce intent, after Hector, son of Priam. With shouts and cries they came, and
thought to take the ships of the Achaians, and to slay thereby all the bravest
of the host. But Poseidon, that girdleth the world, the Shaker of the earth,
was urging on the Argives, and forth he came from the deep salt sea, in form
and untiring voice like unto Kalchas. First he spake to the two Aiantes, that
themselves were eager for battle: &ldquo;Ye Aiantes twain, ye shall save the
people of the Achaians, if ye are mindful of your might, and reckless of chill
fear. For verily I do not otherwhere dread the invincible hands of the Trojans,
that have climbed the great wall in their multitude, nay, the well-greaved
Achaians will hold them all at bay; but hereby verily do I greatly dread lest
some evil befall us, even here where that furious one is leading like a flame
of fire, Hector, who boasts him to be son of mighty Zeus. Nay, but here may
some god put it into the hearts of you twain, to stand sturdily yourselves, and
urge others to do the like; thereby might ye drive him from the fleet-faring
ships, despite his eagerness, yea, even if the Olympian himself is rousing him
to war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith the Shaker of the world, the girdler of the earth, struck the twain
with his staff, and filled them with strong courage, and their limbs he made
light, and their feet, and their hands withal. Then, even as a swift-winged
hawk speeds forth to fly, poised high above a tall sheer rock, and swoops to
chase some other bird across the plain, even so Poseidon sped from them, the
Shaker of the world. And of the twain Oileus&rsquo; son, the swift-footed Aias,
was the first to know the god, and instantly he spake to Aias, son of Telamon:
&ldquo;Aias, since it is one of the gods who hold Olympus, that in the
semblance of a seer commands us now to fight beside the ships-not Kalchas is
he, the prophet and sooth-sayer, for easily I knew the tokens of his feet and
knees as he turned away, and the gods are easy to discern—lo, then mine own
heart within my breast is more eagerly set on war and battle, and my feet
beneath and my hands above are lusting for the fight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Aias, son of Telamon, answered him saying: &ldquo;Even so, too, my hands
invincible now rage about the spear-shaft, and wrath has risen within me, and
both my feet are swift beneath me; yea, I am keen to meet, even in single
fight, the ceaseless rage of Hector son of Priam.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So they spake to each other, rejoicing in the delight of battle, which the god
put in their heart. Then the girdler of the earth stirred up the Achaians that
were in the rear and were renewing their strength beside the swift ships. Their
limbs were loosened by their grievous toil, yea, and their souls filled with
sorrow at the sight of the Trojans, that had climbed over the great wall in
their multitude. And they looked on them, and shed tears beneath their brows,
thinking that never would they escape destruction. But the Shaker of the earth
right easily came among them, and urged on the strong battalions of warriors.
Teukros first he came and summoned, and Leitos, and the hero Peneleos, and
Thoas, and Deipyros, and Meriones, and Antilochos, lords of the war-cry, all
these he spurred on with winged words: &ldquo;Shame on you, Argives, shame, ye
striplings, in your battle had I trusted for the salvation of our ships. But if
you are to withdraw from grievous war, now indeed the day doth shine that shall
see us conquered by the Trojans. Out on it, for verily a great marvel is this
that mine eyes behold, a terrible thing that methought should never come to
pass, the Trojans advancing against our ships! Of yore they were like fleeting
hinds, that in the wild wood are the prey of jackals, and pards, and wolves,
and wander helpless, strengthless, empty of the joy of battle. Even so the
Trojans of old cared never to wait and face the wrath and the hands of the
Achaians, not for a moment. But now they are fighting far from the town, by the
hollow ships, all through the baseness of our leader and the remissness of the
people, who, being at strife with the chief, have no heart to defend the
swift-faring ships, nay, thereby they are slain. But if indeed and in truth the
hero Agamemnon, the wide-ruling son of Atreus, is the very cause of all, for
that he did dishonour the swift-footed son of Peleus, not even so may we
refrain in any wise from war. Nay, let us right our fault with speed, for
easily righted are the hearts of the brave. No longer do ye well to refrain
from impetuous might, all ye that are the best men of the host. I myself would
not quarrel with one that, being a weakling, abstained from war, but with you I
am heartily wroth. Ah, friends, soon shall ye make the mischief more through
this remissness,—but let each man conceive shame in his heart, and indignation,
for verily great is the strife that hath arisen. Lo, the mighty Hector of the
loud war-cry is fighting at the ships, and the gates and the long bar he hath
burst in sunder.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
On this wise did the Earth-enfolder call to and spur on the Achaians. And
straightway they made a stand around the two Aiantes, strong bands that Ares
himself could not enter and make light of, nor Athene that marshals the host.
Yea, they were the chosen best that abode the Trojans and goodly Hector, and
spear on spear made close-set fence, and shield on serried shield, buckler
pressed on buckler, and helm on helm, and man on man. The horse-hair crests on
the bright helmet-ridges touched each other as they nodded, so close they stood
each by other, and spears brandished in bold hands were interlaced; and their
hearts were steadfast and lusted for battle.
</p>

<p>
Then the Trojans drave forward in close array, and Hector led them, pressing
straight onwards, like a rolling rock from a cliff, that the winter-swollen
water thrusteth from the crest of a hill, having broken the foundations of the
stubborn rock with its wondrous flood; leaping aloft it flies, and the wood
echoes under it, and unstayed it runs its course, till it reaches the level
plain, and then it rolls no more for all its eagerness,—even so Hector for a
while threatened lightly to win to the sea through the huts and the ships of
the Achaians, slaying as he came, but when he encountered the serried
battalions, he was stayed when he drew near against them. But they of the other
part, the sons of the Achaians, thrust with their swords and double-pointed
spears, and drave him forth from them, that he gave ground and reeled backward.
Then he cried with a piercing voice, calling on the Trojans: &ldquo;Trojans,
and Lykians, and close-fighting Dardanians, hold your ground, for the Achaians
will not long ward me off, nay, though they have arrayed themselves in fashion
like a tower. Rather, methinks, they will flee back before the spear, if verily
the chief of gods has set me on, the loud-thundering lord of Hera.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith he spurred on the heart and spirit of each man; and Deiphobos, the
son of Priam, strode among them with high thoughts, and held in front of him
the circle of his shield, and lightly he stepped with his feet, advancing
beneath the cover of his shield. Then Meriones aimed at him with a shining
spear, and struck, and missed not, but smote the circle of the bulls-hide
shield, yet no whit did he pierce it; nay, well ere that might be, the long
spear-shaft snapped in the socket. Now Deiphobos was holding off from him the
bulls-hide shield, and his heart feared the lance of wise Meriones, but that
hero shrunk back among the throng of his comrades, greatly in wrath both for
the loss of victory, and of his spear, that he had shivered. So he set forth to
go to the huts and the ships of the Achaians, to bring a long spear, that he
had left in his hut.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile the others were fighting on, and there arose an inextinguishable cry.
First Teukros, son of Telamon, slew a man, the spearman Imbrios, the son of
Mentor rich in horses. In Pedaion he dwelt, before the coming of the sons of
the Achaians, and he had for wife a daughter of Priam, born out of wedlock,
Medesikaste; but when the curved ships of the Danaans came, he returned again
to Ilios, and was pre-eminent among the Trojans, and dwelt with Priam, who
honoured him like his own children. Him the son of Telemon pierced below the
ear with his long lance, and plucked back the spear. Then he fell like an ash
that on the crest of a far-seen hill is smitten with the axe of bronze, and
brings its delicate foliage to the ground; even so he fell, and round him rang
his armour bedight with bronze. Then Teukros rushed forth, most eager to strip
his armour, and Hector cast at him as he came with his shining spear. But
Teukros, steadily regarding him, avoided by a little the spear of bronze; so
Hector struck Amphimachos, son of Kteatos, son of Aktor, in the breast with the
spear, as he was returning to the battle. With a crash he fell, and his armour
rang upon him.
</p>

<p>
Then Hector sped forth to tear from the head of great-hearted Amphimachos the
helmet closely fitted to his temples, but Aias aimed at Hector as he came, with
a shining spear, yet in no wise touched his body, for he was all clad in dread
armour of bronze; but he smote the boss of his shield, and drave him back by
main force, and he gave place from behind the two dead men, and the Achaians
drew them out of the battle. So Stichios and goodly Menestheus, leaders of the
Athenians, conveyed Amphimachos back among the host of the Achaians, but
Imbrios the two Aiantes carried, with hearts full of impetuous might. And as
when two lions have snatched away a goat from sharp-toothed hounds, and carry
it through the deep thicket, holding the body on high above the ground in their
jaws, so the two warrior Aiantes held Imbrios aloft and spoiled his arms. Then
the son of Oileus cut his head from his delicate neck, in wrath for the sake of
Amphimachos, and sent it rolling like a ball through the throng, and it dropped
in the dust before the feet of Hector.
</p>

<p>
Then verily was Poseidon wroth at heart, when his sol&rsquo;s son fell in the
terrible fray. [Kteatos, father of Amphimachos, was Poseidol&rsquo;s son.] So
he set forth to go by the huts and the ships of the Achaians, to spur on the
Danaans, and sorrows he was contriving for the Trojans. Then Idomeneus,
spearman renowned, met him on his way from his comrade that had but newly
returned to him out of the battle, wounded on the knee with the sharp bronze.
Him his comrades carried forth, and Idomeneus gave charge to the leeches, and
so went on to his hut, for he still was eager to face the war. Then the mighty
Shaker of the earth addressed him, in the voice of Thoas, son of Andraimon,
that ruled over the Aitolians in all Pleuron, and mountainous Kalydon, and was
honoured like a god by the people: &ldquo;Idomeneus, thou counsellor of the
Cretans, say, whither have thy threats fared, wherewith the sons of the
Achaians threatened the Trojans?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Idomeneus, leader of the Cretans, answered him again: &ldquo;O Thaos, now
is there no man to blame, that I wot of, for we all are skilled in war. Neither
is there any man that spiritless fear holds aloof, nor any that gives place to
cowardice, and shuns the cruel war, nay, but even thus, methinks, must it have
seemed good to almighty Kronion, even that the Achaians should perish nameless
here, far away from Argos. But Thoas, seeing that of old thou wert staunch, and
dost spur on some other man, wheresoever thou mayst see any give ground,
therefore slacken not now, but call aloud to every warrior.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Poseidon, the Shaker of the earth, answered him again: &ldquo;Idomeneus,
never may that man go forth out of Troy-land, but here may he be the sport of
dogs, who this day wilfully is slack in battle. Nay, come, take thy weapons and
away: herein we must play the man together, if any avail there may be, though
we are no more than two. Ay, and very cowards get courage from company, but we
twain know well how to battle even with the brave.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith the god went back again into the strife of men, but Idomeneus, so
soon as he came to his well-builded hut, did on his fair armour about his body,
and grasped two spears, and set forth like the lightning that Kronion seizes in
his hand and brandishes from radiant Olympus, showing forth a sign to mortal
men, and far seen are the flames thereof. Even so shone the bronze about the
breast of Idomeneus as he ran, and Meriones, his good squire, met him, while he
was still near his hut,—he was going to bring his spear of bronze,—and mighty
Idomeneus spake to him: &ldquo;Meriones son of Molos, fleet of foot, dearest of
my company, wherefore hast thou come hither and left the war and strife? Art
thou wounded at all, and vexed by a dart&rsquo;s point, or dost thou come with
a message for me concerning aught? Verily I myself have no desire to sit in the
huts, but to fight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then wise Meriones answered him again, saying: &ldquo;[Idomeneus, thou
counsellor of the mail-clad Cretans,] I have come to fetch a
spear, if perchance thou hast one left in the huts, for that which before I
carried I have shivered in casting at the shield of proud Deiphobos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Idomeneus, leader of the Cretans, answered him again: &ldquo;Spears, if
thou wilt, thou shalt find, one, ay, and twenty, standing in the hut, against
the shining side walls, spears of the Trojans whereof I have spoiled their
slain. Yea, it is not my mood to stand and fight with foemen from afar,
wherefore I have spears, and bossy shields, and helms, and corslets of splendid
sheen.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then wise Meriones answered him again: &ldquo;Yea, and in mine own hut and my
black ship are many spoils of the Trojans, but not ready to my hand. Nay, for
methinks that neither am I forgetful of valour; but stand forth among the
foremost to face the glorious war, whensoever ariseth the strife of battle. Any
other, methinks, of the mail-clad Achaians should sooner forget my prowess, but
thou art he that knoweth it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Idomeneus, leader of the Cretans, answered him again: &ldquo;I know what a
man of valour thou art, wherefore shouldst thou tell me thereof? Nay, if now
beside the ships all the best of us were being chosen for an ambush—wherein the
valour of men is best discerned; there the coward, and the brave man most
plainly declare themselves: for the colour of the coward changes often, and his
spirit cannot abide firm within him, but now he kneels on one knee, now on the
other, and rests on either foot, and his heart beats noisily in his breast, as
he thinks of doom, and his teeth chatter loudly. But the colour of the brave
man does not change, nor is he greatly afraid, from the moment that he enters
the ambush of heroes, but his prayer is to mingle instantly in woeful war. Were
we being chosen for such an ambush, I say, not even then would any man reckon
lightly of thy courage and thy strength. Nay, and even if thou wert stricken in
battle from afar, or smitten in close fight, the dart would not strike thee in
the hinder part of the neck, nor in the back, but would encounter thy breast or
belly, as thou dost press on, towards the gathering of the foremost fighters.
But come, no more let us talk thus, like children, loitering here, lest any man
be vehemently wroth, but go thou to the hut, and bring the strong spear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus he spake, and Meriones, the peer of swift Ares, quickly bare the spear of
bronze from the hut, and went after Idomeneus, with high thoughts of battle.
And even as Ares, the bane of men, goes forth into the war, and with him
follows his dear son Panic, stark and fearless, that terrifies even the hardy
warrior; and these twain leave Thrace, and harness them for fight with the
Ephyri, or the great-hearted Phlegyans, yet hearken not to both peoples, but
give honour to one only; like these gods did Meriones and Idomeneus, leaders of
men, set forth into the fight, harnessed in gleaming bronze. And Meriones spake
first to Idomeneus saying: &ldquo;Child of Deukalion, whither art thou eager to
enter into the throng: on the right of all the host, or in the centre, or on
the left? Ay, and no other where, methinks, are the flowing-haired Achaians so
like to fail in fight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Idomeneus, the leader of the Cretans, answered him again: &ldquo;In the
centre of the ships there are others to bear the brunt, the two Aiantes, and
Teukros, the best bowman of the Achaians, ay, and a good man in close fight;
these will give Hector Priam&rsquo;s son toil enough, howsoever keen he be for
battle; yea, though he be exceeding stalwart. Hard will he find it, with all
his lust for war, to overcome their strength and their hands invincible, and to
fire the ships, unless Kronion himself send down on the swift ships a burning
brand. But not to a man would he yield, the great Telamonian Aias, to a man
that is mortal and eateth Demeter&rsquo;s grain, and may be chosen with the
sword of bronze, and with hurling of great stones. Nay, not even to Achilles
the breaker of the ranks of men would he give way, not in close fight; but for
speed of foot none may in any wise strive with Achilles. But guide us twain, as
thou sayest, to the left hand of the host, that speedily we may learn whether
we are to win glory from others, or other men from us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and Meriones, the peer of swift Ares, led the way, till they came
to the host, in that place whither he bade him go.
</p>

<p>
And when the Trojans saw Idomeneus, strong as flame, and his squire with him,
and their glorious armour, they all shouted and made for him through the press.
Then their mellay began, by the sterns of the ships. And as the gusts speed on,
when shrill winds blow, on a day when dust lies thickest on the roads, and the
winds raise together a great cloud of dust, even so their battle clashed
together, and all were fain of heart to slay each other in the press with the
keen bronze. And the battle, the bane of men, bristled with the long spears,
the piercing spears they grasped, and the glitter of bronze from gleaming
helmets dazzled the eyes, and the sheen of new-burnished corslets, and shining
shields, as the men thronged all together. Right hardy of heart would he have
been that joyed and sorrowed not at the sight of this labour of battle.
</p>

<p>
Thus the two mighty sons of Kronos, with contending will, were contriving
sorrow and anguish for the heroes. Zeus desired victory for the Trojans and
Hector, giving glory to swift-footed Achilles; yet he did not wish the Achaian
host to perish utterly before Ilios, but only to give renown to Thetis and her
strong-hearted son. But Poseidon went among the Argives and stirred them to
war, stealing secretly forth from the grey salt sea: for he was sore vexed that
they were overcome by the Trojans, and was greatly in wrath against Zeus.
Verily both were of the same lineage and the same place of birth, but Zeus was
the elder and the wiser. Therefore also Poseidon avoided to give open aid, but
secretly ever he spurred them on, throughout the host, in the likeness of a
man. These twain had strained the ends of the cords of strong strife and equal
war, and had stretched them over both Trojans and Achaians, a knot that none
might break nor undo, for the loosening of the knees of many.
</p>

<p>
Even then Idomeneus, though his hair was flecked with grey, called on the
Danaans, and leaping among the Trojans, roused their terror. For he slew
Othryoneus of Kabesos, a sojourner there, who but lately had followed after the
rumour of war, and asked in marriage the fairest of the daughters of Priam,
Kassandra, without gifts of wooing, but with promise of mighty deed, namely
that he would drive perforce out of Troy-land the sons of the Achaians. To him
the old man Priam had promised and appointed that he would give her, so he
fought trusting in his promises. And Idomeneus aimed at him with a bright
spear, and cast and smote him as he came proudly striding on, and the corslet
of bronze that he wore availed not, but the lance struck in the midst of his
belly. And he fell with a crash, and Idomeneus boasted over him, and lifted up
his voice, saying: &ldquo;Othryoneus, verily I praise thee above all mortal
men, if indeed thou shalt accomplish all that thou hast promised to Priam, son of
Dardanos, that promised thee again his own daughter. Yea, and we likewise would
promise as much to thee, and fulfil it, and would give thee the fairest
daughter of the son of Atreus, and bring her from Argos, and wed her to thee,
if only thou wilt aid us to take the fair-set citadel of Ilios. Nay, follow us
that we may make a covenant of marriage by the seafaring ships, for we are no
hard exacters of gifts of wooing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith the hero Idomeneus dragged him by the foot across the fierce mellay.
But Asios came to his aid, on foot before his horses that the charioteer guided
so that still their breath touched the shoulders of Asios. And the desire of
his heart was to cast at Idomeneus, who was beforehand with him, and smote him
with the spear in the throat, below the chin, and drove the point straight
through. And he fell as an oak falls, or a poplar, or tall pine tree, that
craftsmen have felled on the hills with new whetted axes, to be a ship&rsquo;s
timber; even so he lay stretched out before the horses and the chariot,
groaning, and clutching the bloody dust. And the charioteer was amazed, and
kept not his wits, as of old, and dared not turn his horses and avoid out of
the hands of foemen; and Antilochos the steadfast in war smote him, and pierced
the middle of his body with a spear. Nothing availed the corslet of bronze he
was wont to wear, but he planted the spear fast in the midst of his belly.
Therewith he fell gasping from the well-wrought chariot, and Antilochos, the
son of great-hearted Nestor, drave the horses out from the Trojans, among the
well-greaved Achaians. Then Deiphobos, in sorrow for Asios, drew very nigh
Idomeneus, and cast at him with his shining spear. But Idomeneus steadily
watching him, avoided the spear of bronze, being hidden beneath the circle of
his shield, the shield covered about with ox-hide and gleaming bronze, that he
allows bore, fitted with two arm-rods: under this he crouched together, and the
spear of bronze flew over. And his shield rang sharply, as the spear grazed
thereon. Yet it flew not vainly from the heavy hand of Deiphobos, but smote
Hypsenor, son of Hippasos, the shepherd of the hosts, in the liver, beneath the
midriff, and instantly unstrung his knees. And Deiphobos boasted over him
terribly, crying aloud: &ldquo;Ah, verily, not unavenged lies Asios, nay,
methinks, that even on his road to Hades, strong Warden of the gate, he will
rejoice at heart, since, lo, I have sent him escort for the way!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, but grief came on the Argives by reason of his boast, and stirred
above all the soul of the wise-hearted Antilochos, yet, despite his sorrow, he
was not heedless of his dear comrade, but ran and stood over him, and covered
him with his buckler. Then two trusty companions, Mekisteus, son of Echios, and
goodly Alastor, stooped down and lifted him, and with heavy groaning bare him
to the hollow ships.
</p>

<p>
And Idomeneus relaxed not his mighty force, but ever was striving, either to
cover some one of the Trojans with black night, or himself to fall in warding
off death from the Achaians. There the dear son of Aisyetes, fosterling of
Zeus, even the hero Alkathoos, was slain, who was son-in-law of Anchises, and
had married the eldest of his daughters, Hippodameia, whom her father and her
lady mother dearly loved in the halls, for she excelled all the maidens of her
age in beauty, and skill, and in wisdom, wherefore the best man in wide Troy
took her to wife. This Alkathoos did Poseidon subdue to Idomeneus, throwing a
spell over his shining eyes, and snaring his glorious limbs; so that he might
neither flee backwards, nor avoid the stroke, but stood steady as a pillar, or
a tree with lofty crown of leaves, when the hero Idomeneus smote him in the
midst of the breast with the spear, and rent the coat of bronze about him, that
aforetime warded death from his body, but now rang harsh as it was rent by the
spear. And he fell with a crash, and the lance fixed in his heart, that, still
beating, shook the butt-end of the spear. Then at length mighty Ares spent its
fury there; but Idomeneus boasted terribly, and cried aloud: &ldquo;Deiphobos,
are we to deem it fair acquittal that we have slain three men for one, since
thou boastest thus? Nay, sir, but stand thou up also thyself against me, that
thou mayst know what manner of son of Zeus am I that have come hither! For Zeus
first begat Minos, the warden of Crete, and Minos got him a son, the noble
Deukalion, and Deukalion begat me, a prince over many men in wide Crete, and
now have the ships brought me hither, a bane to thee and thy father, and all
the Trojans.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus he spake, but the thoughts of Deiphobos were divided, whether he should
retreat, and call to his aid some one of the great-hearted Trojans, or should
try the adventure alone. And on this wise to his mind it seemed the better, to
go after Aineias, whom he found standing the last in the press, for Aineias was
ever wroth against goodly Priam, for that Priam gave him no honour, despite his
valour among men. So Deiphobos stood by him, and spake winged words to him:
&ldquo;Aineias, thou counsellor of the Trojans, now verily there is great need
that thou shouldst succour thy sister&rsquo;s husband, if any care for kin doth
touch thee. Nay follow, let us succour Alkathoos, thy sister&rsquo;s husband,
who of old did cherish thee in his hall, while thou wert but a little one, and
now, lo, spear-famed Idomeneus hath stripped him of his arms!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and roused the spirit in the breast of Aineias, who went to seek
Idomeneus, with high thoughts of war. But fear took not hold upon Idomeneus, as
though he had been some tender boy, but he stood at bay, like a boar on the
hills that trusteth to his strength, and abides the great assailing throng of
men in a lonely place, and he bristles up his back, and his eyes shine with
fire, while he whets his tusks, and is right eager to keep at bay both men and
hounds. Even so stood spear-famed Idomeneus at bay against Aineias, that came
to the rescue, and gave ground no whit, but called on his comrades, glancing to
Askalaphos, and Aphareus, and Deipyros, and Meriones, and Antilochos, all
masters of the war-cry; them he spurred up to battle, and spake winged words:
&ldquo;Hither, friends, and rescue me, all alone as I am, and terribly I dread
the onslaught of swift-footed Aineias, that is assailing me; for he is right
strong to destroy men in battle, and he hath the flower of youth, the greatest
avail that may be. Yea, if he and I were of like age, and in this spirit
whereof now we are, speedily should he or I achieve high victory.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and they all, being of one spirit in their hearts, stood hard by
each other, with buckler laid on shoulder. But Aineias, on the other side,
cried to his comrades, glancing to Deiphobos, and Paris, and noble Agenor, that
with him were leaders of the Trojans; and then the hosts followed them, as
sheep follow their leader to the water from the pasture, and the shepherd is
glad at heart; even so the heart of Aineias was glad in his breast, when he saw
the hosts of the people following to aid him.
</p>

<p>
Then they rushed in close fight around Alkathoos with their long spears, and
round their breasts the bronze rang terribly, as they aimed at each other in
the press, while two men of war beyond the rest, Aineias and Idomeneus, the
peers of Ares, were each striving to hew the flesh of the other with the
pitiless bronze. Now Aineias first cast at Idomeneus, who steadily watching him
avoided the spear of bronze, and the point of Aineias went quivering in the
earth, since vainly it had flown from his stalwart hand. But Idomeneus smote
Oinomaos in the midst of the belly, and brake the plate of his corslet, and the
bronze let forth the bowels through the corslet, and he fell in the dust and
clutched the earth in his palms. And Idomeneus drew forth the far-shadowing
spear from the dead, but could not avail to strip the rest of the fair armour
from his shoulders, for the darts pressed hard on him. Nay, and his feet no
longer served him firmly in a charge, nor could he rush after his own spear,
nor avoid the foe. Wherefore in close fight he still held off the pitiless day
of destiny, but in retreat: his feet no longer bore him swiftly from the
battle. And as he was slowly departing, Deiphobos aimed at him with his shining
spear, for verily he ever cherished a steadfast hatred against Idomeneus. But
this time, too, he missed him, and smote Askalapbos, the son of Enyalios, with
his dart, and the strong spear passed through his shoulder, and he fell in the
dust, and clutched the earth in his outstretched hand. But loud-voiced awful
Ares was not yet aware at all that his son had fallen in strong battle, but he
was reclining on the peak of Olympus, beneath the golden clouds, being held
there by the design of Zeus, where also were the other deathless gods,
restrained from the war.
</p>

<p>
Now the people rushed in close fight around Askalaphos, and Deiphobos tore from
Askalaphos his shining helm, but Meriones, the peer of swift Ares, leaped
forward and smote the arm of Deiphobos with his spear, and from his hand the
vizored casque fell clanging to the ground. And Meriones sprang forth
instantly, like a vulture, and drew the strong spear from the shoulder of
Deiphobos, and fell back among the throng of his comrades. But the own brother
of Deiphobos, Polites, stretched his hands round his waist, and led him forth
from the evil din of war, even till he came to the swift horses, that waited
for him behind the battle and the fight, with their charioteer, and well-dight
chariot. These bore him heavily groaning to the city, worn with his hurt, and
the blood ran down from his newly wounded arm.
</p>

<p>
But the rest still were fighting, and the war-cry rose unquenched. There
Aineias rushed on Aphareus, son of Kaletor, and struck his throat, that chanced
to be turned to him, with the keen spear, and his head dropped down and his
shield and helm fell with him, and death that slays the spirit overwhelmed him.
And Antilochos watched Thoon as he turned the other way, and leaped on him, and
wounded him, severing all the vein that runs up the back till it reaches the
neck; this he severed clean, and Thoon fell on his back in the dust, stretching
out both his hands to his comrades dear. Then Antilochos rushed on, and
stripped the armour from his shoulders, glancing around while the Trojans
gathered from here and there, and smote his wide shining shield, yet did not
avail to graze, behind the shield, the delicate flesh of Antilochos with the
pitiless bronze. For verily Poseidon, the Shaker of the earth, did guard on
every side the son of Nestor, even in the midst of the javelins. And never did
Antilochos get free of the foe, but turned him about among them, nor ever was
his spear at rest, but always brandished and shaken, and the aim of his heart
was to smite a foeman from afar, or to set on him at close quarters. But as he
was aiming through the crowd, he escaped not the ken of Adamas, son of Asios,
who smote the midst of his shield with the sharp bronze, setting on nigh at
hand; but Poseidon of the dark locks made his shaft of no avail, grudging him
the life of Antilochos. And part of the spear abode there, like a burned stake,
in the shield of Antilochos, and half lay on the earth, and back retreated
Adamas to the ranks of his comrades, avoiding Fate. But Meriones following
after him as he departed, smote him with a spear between the privy parts and
the navel, where a wound is most baneful to wretched mortals. Even there he
fixed the spear in him and he fell, and writhed about the spear, even as a bull
that herdsmen on the hills drag along perforce when they have bound him with
withes, so he when he was smitten writhed for a moment, not for long, till the
hero Meriones came near, and drew the spear out of his body. And darkness
covered his eyes.
</p>

<p>
And Helenos in close fight smote Deipyros on the temple, with a great Thracian
sword, and tore away the helm, and the helm, being dislodged, fell on the
ground, and one of the Achaians in the fight picked it up as it rolled between
his feet. But dark night covered the eyes of Deipyros.
</p>

<p>
Then grief took hold of the son of Atreus, Menelaos of the loud war-cry, and he
went with a threat against the warrior Helenos, the prince, shaking his sharp
spear, while the other drew the centre-piece of his bow. And both at once were
making ready to let fly, one with his sharp spear, the other with the arrow
from the string. Then the son of Priam smote Menelaos on the breast with his
arrow, on the plate of the corslet, and off flew the bitter arrow. Even as from
a broad shovel in a great threshing floor, fly the black-skinned beans and
pulse, before the whistling wind, and the stress of the winnower&rsquo;s
shovel, even so from the corslet of the renowned Menelaos flew glancing far
aside the bitter arrow. But the son of Atreus, Menelaos of the loud war-cry,
smote the hand of Helenos wherein he held the polished bow, and into the bow,
clean through the hand, was driven the spear of bronze. Back he withdrew to the
ranks of his comrades, avoiding Fate, with his hand hanging down at his side,
for the ashen spear dragged after him. And the great-hearted Agenor drew the
spear from his hand, and himself bound up the hand with a band of twisted
sheep&rsquo;s-wool, a sling that a squire carried for him, the shepherd of the
host.
</p>

<p>
Then Peisandros made straight for renowned Menelaos, but an evil Fate was
leading him to the end of Death; by thee, Menelaos, to be overcome in the dread
strife of battle. Now when the twain had come nigh in onset upon each other,
the son of Atreus missed, and his spear was turned aside, but Peisandros smote
the shield of renowned Menelaos, yet availed not to drive the bronze clean
through, for the wide shield caught it, and the spear brake in the socket, yet
Peisandros rejoiced in his heart, and hoped for the victory. But the son of
Atreus drew his silver-studded sword, and leaped upon Peisandros. And
Peisandros, under his shield, clutched his goodly axe of fine bronze, with long
and polished haft of olive-wood, and the twain set upon each other. Then
Peisandros smote the crest of the helmet shaded with horse hair, close below
the very plume, but Menelaos struck the other, as he came forward, on the brow,
above the base of the nose, and the bones cracked, and the eyes, all bloody,
fell at his feet in the dust. Then he bowed and fell, and Menelaos set his foot
on his breast, and stripped him of his arms, and triumphed, saying: &ldquo;Even
thus then surely, ye will leave the ships of the Danaans of the swift steeds,
ye Trojans overweening, insatiate of the dread din of war. Yea, and ye shall
not lack all other reproof and shame, wherewith ye made me ashamed, ye hounds
of evil, having no fear in your hearts of the strong wrath of loud-thundering
Zeus, the god of guest and host, who one day will destroy your steep citadel. O
ye that wantonly carried away my wedded wife and many of my possessions, when
ye were entertained by her, now again ye are fain to throw ruinous fire on the
seafaring ships, and to slay the Achaian heroes. Nay, but ye will yet refrain
you from battle, for as eager as ye be. O Zeus, verily they say that thou dost
excel in wisdom all others, both gods and men, and all these things are from
thee. How wondrously art thou favouring men of violence, even the Trojans,
whose might is ever iniquitous, nor can they have their fill of the din of
equal war. Of all things there is satiety, yea, even of love and sleep, and of
sweet song, and dance delectable, whereof a man would sooner have his fill than
of war, but the Trojans are insatiable of battle.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus noble Menelaos spake, and stripped the bloody arms from the body, and gave
them to his comrades, and instantly himself went forth again, and mingled in
the forefront of the battle. Then Harpalion, the son of king Pylaimenes, leaped
out against him, Harpalion that followed his dear father to Troy, to the war,
nor ever came again to his own country. He then smote the middle of the shield
of Atreus&rsquo; son with his spear, in close fight, yet availed not to drive
the bronze clean through, but fell back into the host of his comrades, avoiding
Fate, glancing round every way, lest one should wound his flesh with the
bronze. But Meriones shot at him as he retreated with a bronze-shod arrow, and
smote him in the right buttock, and the arrow went right through the bladder
and came out under the bone. And sitting down, even there, in the arms of his
dear comrades, he breathed away his soul, lying stretched like a worm on the
earth, and out flowed the black blood, and wetted the ground. And the
Paphlagonians great of heart, tended him busily, and set him in a chariot, and
drove him to sacred Ilios sorrowing, and with them went his father, shedding
tears, and there was no atonement for his dead son.
</p>

<p>
Now Paris was very wroth at heart by reason of his slaying, for he had been his
host among the many Paphlagonions, wherefore, in wrath for his sake, he let fly
a bronze-shod arrow. Now there was a certain Euchenor, the son of Polyidos the
seer, a rich man and a good, whose dwelling was in Corinth. And well he knew
his own ruinous fate, when he went on ship-board, for often would the old man,
the good Polyidos, tell him, that he must either perish of a sore disease in
his halls, or go with the ships of the Achaians, and be overcome by the
Trojans. Wherefore he avoided at once the heavy war-fine of the Achaians, and
the hateful disease, that so he might not know any anguish. This man did Paris
smite beneath the jaw and under the ear, and swiftly his spirit departed from
his limbs, and, lo, dread darkness overshadowed him.
</p>

<p>
So they fought like flaming fire, but Hector, beloved of Zeus had not heard nor
knew at all that, on the left of the ships, his host was being subdued by the
Argives, and soon would the Achaians have won renown, so mighty was the Holder
and Shaker of the earth that urged on the Argives; yea, and himself mightily
defended them. But Hector kept where at first he had leaped within the walls
and the gate, and broken the serried ranks of shield-bearing Danaans, even
where were the ships of Aias and Protesilaos, drawn up on the beach of the
hoary sea, while above the wall was builded lowest, and thereby chiefly the
heroes and their horses were raging in battle.
</p>

<p>
There the Boiotians, and Ionians with trailing tunics, and Lokrians and
Phthians and illustrious Epeians scarcely availed to stay his onslaught on the
ships, nor yet could they drive back from them noble Hector, like a flame of
fire. And there were the picked men of the Athenians; among them Menestheus son
of Peteos was the leader; and there followed with him Pheidas and Stichios, and
brave Bias, while the Epeians were led by Meges, son of Phyleus, and Amphion
and Drakios, and in front of the Phthians were Medon, and Podarkes resolute in
war. Now the one, Medon, was the bastard son of noble Oileus, and brother of
Aias, and he dwelt in Phylake, far from his own country, for that he had slain
a man, the brother of his stepmother Eriopis, wife of Oileus. But the other,
Podarkes, was the son of Iphiklos son of Phylakos, and they in their armour, in
the van of the great-hearted Phthians, were defending the ships, and fighting
among the Boiotians.
</p>

<p>
Now never at all did Aias, the swift son of Oileus, depart from the side of
Aias, son of Telamon, nay, not for an instant, but even as in fallow land two
wine-dark oxen with equal heart strain at the shapen plough, and round the
roots of their horns springeth up abundant sweat, and nought sunders them but
the polished yoke, as they labour through the furrow, till the end of the
furrow brings them up, so stood the two Aiantes close by each other. Now verily
did many and noble hosts of his comrades follow with the son of Telamon, and
bore his shield when labour and sweat came upon his limbs. But the Lokrians
followed not with the high-hearted son of Oileus, for their hearts were not
steadfast in close brunt of battle, seeing that they had no helmets of bronze,
shadowy with horse-hair plumes, nor round shields, nor ashen spears, but
trusting in bows and well-twisted slings of sheep&rsquo;s wool, they followed
with him to Ilios. Therewith, in the war, they shot thick and fast, and brake
the ranks of the Trojans. So the one party in front, with their well-dight arms contended with the Trojans,
and with Hector arrayed in bronze, while the others from behind kept shooting
from their ambush, and the Trojans lost all memory of the joy of battle, for
the arrows confounded them.
</p>

<p>
There then right ruefully from the ships and the huts would the Trojans have
withdrawn to windy Ilios, had not Polydamas come near valiant Hector and said:
&ldquo;Hector, thou art hard to be persuaded by them that would counsel thee;
for that god has given thee excellence in the works of war, therefore in
council also thou art fain to excel other men in knowledge. But in nowise wilt
thou be able to take everything on thyself. For to one man has god given for
his portion the works of war, [to another the dance, to another the lute and
song,] but in the heart of yet another hath far-seeing Zeus placed an excellent
understanding, whereof many men get gain, yea he saveth many an one, and
himself best knoweth it. But, lo, I will speak even as it seemeth best to me.
Behold all about thee the circle of war is blazing, but the great-hearted
Trojans, now that they have got down the wall, are some with their arms
standing aloof and some are fighting, few men against a host, being scattered
among the ships. Nay, withdraw thee, and call hither all the best of the
warriors. Thereafter shall we take all counsel carefully, whether we should
fall on the ships of many benches, if indeed god willeth to give us victory, or
after counsel held, should return unharmed from the ships. For verily I fear
lest the Achaians repay their debt of yesterday, since by the ships there
tarrieth a man insatiate of war, and never, methinks, will he wholly stand
aloof from battle.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake Polydamas, and his safe counsel pleased Hector well, who [straightaway
sprang to earth from the chariot with his arms, and] spake to him
winged words and said: &ldquo;Polydamas, do thou stay here all the best of the
host, but I will go thither to face the war, and swiftly will return again,
when I have straitly laid on them my commands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and set forth, in semblance like a snowy mountain, and shouting
aloud he flew through the Trojans and allies. And they all sped to Polydamas,
the kindly son of Panthoos, when they heard the voice of Hector. But he went
seeking Deiphobos, and the strong prince Helenos, and Adamas son of Asios, and
Asios son of Hyrtakos, among the warriors in the foremost line, if anywhere he
might find them. But them he found not at all unharmed, nor free of bane, but,
lo, some among the sterns of the ships of the Achaians lay lifeless, slain by
the hands of the Argives, and some were within the wall wounded by thrust or
cast. But one he readily found, on the left of the dolorous battle, goodly
Alexandros, the lord of fair-tressed Helen, heartening his comrades and
speeding them to war. And he drew near to him, and addressed him with words of
shame: &ldquo;Thou evil Paris, fairest of face, thou that lustest for women,
thou seducer, where, prithee, are Deiphobos, and the strong prince Helenos, and
Adamas son of Asios, and Asios son of Hyrtakos, and where is Othryoneus? Now
hath all high Ilios perished utterly. Now, too, thou seest, is sheer
destruction sure.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then godlike Alexandros answered him again saying: &ldquo;Hector, since thy
mind is to blame one that is blameless, some other day might I rather withdraw
me from the war, since my mother bare not even me wholly a coward. For from the
time that thou didst gather the battle of thy comrades about the ships, from
that hour do we abide here, and war with the Danaans ceaselessly; and our
comrades concerning whom thou inquirest are slain. Only Deiphobos and the
strong prince Helenos have both withdrawn, both of them being wounded in the
hand with long spears, for Kronion kept death away from them. But now lead on,
wheresoever thy heart and spirit bid thee, and we will follow with thee
eagerly, nor methinks shall we lack for valour, as far as we have strength; but
beyond his strength may no man fight, howsoever eager he be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake the hero, and persuaded his brother&rsquo;s heart, and they went forth
where the war and din were thickest, round Kebriones, and noble Polydamas, and
Phalkes, and Orthaios, and godlike Polyphetes, and Palmys, and Askanios, and
Morys, son of Hippotion, who had come in their turn, out of deep-soiled
Askanie, on the morn before, and now Zeus urged them to fight. And these set
forth like the blast of violent winds, that rushes earthward beneath the
thunder of father Zeus, and with marvellous din doth mingle with the salt sea, and
therein are many swelling waves of the loud roaring sea, arched over and white
with foam, some vanward, others in the rear; even so the Trojans arrayed in van
and rear and shining with bronze, followed after their leaders.
</p>

<p>
And Hector son of Priam was leading them, the peer of Ares, the bane of men. In
front he held the circle of his shield, thick with hides, and plates of beaten
bronze, and on his temples swayed his shining helm. And everywhere he went in
advance and made trial of the ranks, if perchance they would yield to him as he
charged under cover of his shield. But he could not confound the heart within
the breast of the Achaians. And Aias, stalking with long strides, challenged
him first: &ldquo;Sir, draw nigh, wherefore dost thou vainly try to dismay the
Argives? We are in no wise ignorant of war, but by the cruel scourge of Zeus
are we Achaians vanquished. Surely now thy heart hopes utterly to spoil the
ships, but we too have hands presently to hold our own. Verily your peopled
city will long ere that beneath our hands be taken and sacked. But for thee, I
tell thee that the time is at hand, when thou shalt pray in thy flight to father Zeus,
and the other immortal gods, that thy fair-maned steeds may be fleeter than
falcons: thy steeds that are to bear thee to the city, as they storm in dust
across the plain.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And even as he spake, a bird flew forth on the right hand, an eagle of lofty
flight, and the host of the Achaians shouted thereat, encouraged by the omen,
but renowned Hector answered: &ldquo;Aias, thou blundering boaster, what sayest
thou! Would that indeed I were for ever as surely the son of aegis-bearing
Zeus, and that my mother were lady Hera, and that I were held in such honour as
Apollo and Athene, as verily this day is to bring utter evil on all the
Argives! And thou among them shalt be slain, if thou hast the heart to await my
long spear, which shall rend thy lily skin, and thou shalt glut with thy fat
and flesh the birds and dogs of the Trojans, falling among the ships of the
Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake and led the way, and they followed with wondrous din, and the whole
host shouted behind. And the Argives on the other side answered with a shout,
and forgot not their valiance, but abode the onslaught of the bravest of the
Trojans. And the cry of the two hosts went up through the higher air, to the
splendour of Zeus.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap14"></a>BOOK XIV.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Sleep and Hera beguiled Zeus to slumber on the heights of Ida, and Poseidon
spurred on the Achaians to resist Hector, and how Hector was wounded.
</p>

<p>
Yet the cry of battle escaped not Nestor, albeit at his wine, but he spake
winged words to the son of Asklepios: &ldquo;Bethink thee, noble Machaon, what
had best be done; lo, louder waxes the cry of the strong warriors by the ships.
Nay, now sit where thou art, and drink the bright wine, till Hekamede of the
fair tresses shall heat warm water for the bath, and wash away the clotted
blood, but I will speedily go forth and come to a place of outlook.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith he took the well-wrought shield of his son, horse-taming Thrasymedes,
which was lying in the hut, all glistering with bronze, for the son had the
shield of his father. And he seized a strong spear, with a point of keen
bronze, and stood outside the hut, and straightway beheld a deed of shame, the
Achaians fleeing in rout, and the high-hearted Trojans driving them, and the
wall of the Achaians was overthrown. And as when the great sea is troubled with
a dumb wave, and dimly bodes the sudden paths of the shrill winds, but is still
unmoved nor yet rolled forward or to either side, until some steady gale comes
down from Zeus, even so the old man pondered,—his mind divided this way and
that,—whether he should fare into the press of the Danaans of the swift steeds,
or go after Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the host. And thus as he
pondered, it seemed to him the better counsel to go to the son of Atreus.
Meanwhile they were warring and slaying each other, and the stout bronze rang
about their bodies as they were thrust with swords and double-pointed spears.
</p>

<p>
Now the kings, the fosterlings of Zeus, encountered Nestor, as they went up
from the ships, even they that were wounded with the bronze, Tydeus&rsquo; son,
and Odysseus, and Agamemnon, son of Atreus. For far apart from the battle were
their ships drawn up, on the shore of the grey sea, for these were the first
they had drawn up to the plain, but had builded the wall in front of the
hindmost. For in no wise might the beach, wide as it was, hold all the ships,
and the host was straitened. Wherefore they drew up the ships row within row,
and filled up the wide mouth of all the shore that the headlands held between
them. Therefore the kings were going together, leaning on their spears, to look
on the war and fray, and the heart of each was sore within his breast. And the
old man met them, even Nestor, and caused the spirit to fail within the breasts
of the Achaians.
</p>

<p>
And mighty Agamemnon spake and accosted him: &ldquo;O Nestor, son of Neleus,
great glory of the Achaians, wherefore dost thou come hither and hast deserted
the war, the bane of men? Lo, I fear the accomplishment of the word that dread
Hector spake, and the threat wherewith he threatened us, speaking in the
assembly of the Trojans, namely, that never would he return to Ilios from the
ships, till he had burned the ships with fire, and slain the men. Even so he
spake, and, lo, now all these things are being fulfilled. Alas, surely even the
other well-greaved Achaians store wrath against me in their hearts, like
Achilles, and have no desire to fight by the rearmost ships.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Nestor of Gerenia the knight answered him saying &ldquo;Verily these
things are now at hand, and being accomplished, nor otherwise could Zeus
himself contrive them, he that thundereth on high. For, lo, the wall is
overthrown, wherein we trusted that it should be an unbroken bulwark of the
ships and of our own bodies. But let us take counsel, how these things may best
be done, if wit may do aught: but into the war I counsel not that we should go
down, for in no wise may a wounded man do battle.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Agamemnon king of men answered him again: &ldquo;Nestor, for that they are
warring by the rearmost ships, and the well-builded wall hath availed not, nor
the trench, whereat the Achaians endured so much labour, hoping in their hearts
that it should be the unbroken bulwark of the ships, and of their own
bodies—such it seemeth must be the will of Zeus supreme, [that the Achaians
should perish here nameless far from Argos]. For I knew it when he was forward
to aid the Danaans, and now I know that he is giving to the Trojans glory like
that of the blessed gods, and hath bound our hands and our strength. But come,
as I declare, let us all obey. Let us drag down the ships that are drawn up in
the first line near to the sea, and speed them all forth to the salt sea
divine, and moor them far out with stones, till the divine night comes, if even
at night the Trojans will refrain from war, and then might we drag down all the
ships. For there is no shame in fleeing from ruin, yea, even in the night.
Better doth he fare who flees from trouble, than he that is overtaken.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then, looking on him sternly, spake Odysseus of many counsels:
&ldquo;Atreus&rsquo; son, what word hath passed the door of thy lips? Man of
mischief, sure thou shouldst lead some other inglorious army, not be king among
us, to whom Zeus hath given it, from youth even unto age, to wind the skein of
grievous wars, till every man of us perish. Art thou indeed so eager to leave
the wide-wayed city of the Trojans, the city for which we endure with sorrow so
many evils? Be silent, lest some other of the Achaians hear this word, that no
man should so much as suffer to pass through his mouth, none that understandeth
in his heart how to speak fit counsel, none that is a sceptred king, and hath
hosts obeying him so many as the Argives over whom thou reignest. And now I
wholly scorn thy thoughts, such a word as thou hast uttered, thou that, in the
midst of war and battle, dost bid us draw down the well-timbered ships to the
sea, that even more than ever the Trojans may possess their desire, albeit they
win the mastery even now, and sheer destruction fall upon us. For the Achaians
will not make good the war, when the ships are drawn down to the salt sea, but
will look round about to flee, and withdraw from battle. There will thy counsel
work a mischief, O marshal of the host!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the king of men, Agamemnon, answered him: &ldquo;Odysseus, right sharply
hast thou touched my heart with thy stern reproof: nay, I do not bid the sons
of the Achaians to drag, against their will, the well-timbered ships to the
salt sea. Now perchance there may be one who will utter a wiser counsel than
this of mine,—a young man or an old,—welcome would it be to me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Diomedes of the loud war-cry spake also among them: &ldquo;The man is
near,—not long shall we seek him, if ye be willing to be persuaded of me, and
each of you be not resentful at all, because in years I am the youngest among
you. Nay, but I too boast me to come by lineage of a noble sire, Tydeus, whom
in Thebes the piled-up earth doth cover. For Portheus had three well-born
children, and they dwelt in Pleuron, and steep Kalydon, even Agrios and Melas,
and the third was Oineus the knight, the father of my father, and in valour he
excelled the others. And there he abode, but my father dwelt at Argos, whither
he had wandered, for so Zeus and the other gods willed that it should be. And
he wedded one of the daughters of Adrastos, and dwelt in a house full of
livelihood, and had wheat-bearing fields enow, and many orchards of trees
apart, and many sheep were his, and in skill with the spear he excelled all the
Achaians: these things ye must have heard, if I speak sooth. Therefore ye could
not say that I am weak and a coward by lineage, and so dishonour my spoken
counsel, that well I may speak. Let us go down to the battle, wounded as we
are, since we needs must; and then might we hold ourselves aloof from the
battle, beyond the range of darts, lest any take wound upon wound; but the
others will we spur on, even them that aforetime gave place to their passion,
and stand apart, and fight not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and they all heard him readily, and obeyed him. And they set
forth, led by Agamemnon the king of men.
</p>

<p>
Now the renowned Earth-shaker held no vain watch, but went with them in the
guise of an ancient man, and he seized the right hand of Agamemnon,
Atreus&rsquo; son, and uttering winged words he spake to him, saying:
&ldquo;Atreides, now methinks the ruinous heart of Achilles rejoices in his
breast, as he beholds the slaughter and flight of the Achaians, since he hath
no wisdom, not a grain. Nay, even so may he perish likewise, and god mar him.
But with thee the blessed gods are not utterly wroth, nay, even yet methinks
the leaders and rulers of the Trojans will cover the wide plain with dust, and
thyself shalt see them fleeing to the city from the ships and the huts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and shouted mightily, as he sped over the plain. And loud as nine
thousand men, or ten thousand cry in battle, when they join the strife of war,
so mighty was the cry that the strong Shaker of the earth sent forth from his
breast, and great strength he put into the heart of each of the Achaians, to
strive and war unceasingly.
</p>

<p>
Now Hera of the golden throne stood on the peak of Olympus, and saw with her
eyes, and anon knew him that was her brother and her lord&rsquo;s going to and
fro through the glorious fight, and she rejoiced in her heart. And she beheld
Zeus sitting on the topmost crest of many-fountained Ida, and to her heart he
was hateful. Then she took thought, the ox-eyed lady Hera, how she might
beguile the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus. And this seemed to her in her heart to
be the best counsel, namely to fare to Ida, when she had well adorned herself,
if perchance a sweet sleep and a kindly she could pour on his eye lids and his
crafty wits. And she set forth to her bower, that her dear son Hephaistos had
fashioned, and therein had made fast strong doors on the pillars, with a secret
bolt, that no other god might open. There did she enter in and closed the
shining doors. With ambrosia first did she cleanse every stain from her winsome
body, and anointed her with olive oil, ambrosial, soft, and of a sweet savour;
if it were but shaken, in the bronze-floored mansion of Zeus, the savour
thereof went right forth to earth and heaven. Therewith she anointed her fair
body, and combed her hair, and with her hands plaited her shining tresses, fair
and ambrosial, flowing from her immortal head. Then she clad her in her
fragrant robe that Athene wrought delicately for her, and therein set many
things beautifully made, and fastened it over her breast with clasps of gold.
And she girdled it with a girdle arrayed with a hundred tassels, and she set
earrings in her pierced ears, earrings of three drops, and glistering,
therefrom shone grace abundantly. And with a veil over all the peerless goddess
veiled herself, a fair new veil, bright as the sun, and beneath her shining
feet she bound goodly sandals. But when she had adorned her body with all her
array, she went forth from her bower, and called Aphrodite apart from the other
gods, and spake to her, saying: &ldquo;Wilt thou obey me, dear child, in that
which I shall tell thee? or wilt thou refuse, with a grudge in thy heart,
because I succour the Danaans, and thou the Trojans?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered her: &ldquo;Hera, goddess queen,
daughter of mighty Kronos, say the thing that is in thy mind, my heart bids me
fulfil it, if fulfil it I may, and if it may be accomplished.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then with crafty purpose the lady Hera answered her: &ldquo;Give me now Love
and Desire wherewith thou dost overcome all the Immortals, and mortal men. For
I am going to visit the limits of the bountiful Earth, and Okeanos, father of
the gods, and mother Tethys, who reared me well and nourished me in their
halls, having taken me from Rhea, when far-seeing Zeus imprisoned Kronos
beneath the earth and the unvintaged sea. Them am I going to visit, and their
endless strife will I loose, for already this long time they hold apart from
each other, since wrath hath settled in their hearts. If with words I might
persuade their hearts, and bring them back to love, ever should I be called
dear to them and worshipful.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then laughter-loving Aphrodite answered her again: &ldquo;It may not be, nor
seemly were it, to deny that thou askest, for thou steepest in the arms of
Zeus, the chief of gods.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Therewith from her breast she loosed the broidered girdle, fair-wrought,
wherein are all her enchantments; therein are love, and desire, and loving
converse, that steals the wits even of the wise. This girdle she laid in her
hands, and spake, and said: &ldquo;Lo now, take this girdle and lay it up in
thy bosom, this fair-wrought girdle, wherein all things are fashioned; methinks
thou wilt not return with that unaccomplished, which in thy heart thou
desirest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake she, and the ox-eyed lady Hera smiled, and smiling laid up the zone
within her breast.
</p>

<p>
Then the daughter of Zeus, Aphrodite, went to her house, and Hera, rushing
down, left the peak of Olympus, and sped&rsquo; over the snowy hills of the
Thracian horsemen, even over the topmost crests, nor grazed the ground with her
feet, and from Athos she fared across the foaming sea, and came to Lemnos, the
city of godlike Thoas. There she met Sleep, the brother of Death, and clasped
her hand in his, and spake and called him by name: &ldquo;Sleep, lord of all
gods and of all men, if ever thou didst hear my word, obey me again even now,
and I will be grateful to thee always. Lull me, I pray thee, the shining eyes
of Zeus beneath his brows. And gifts I will give to thee, even a fair throne,
imperishable for ever, a golden throne, that Hephaistos the Lame, mine own
child, shall fashion skilfully, and will set beneath it a footstool for the
feet, for thee to set thy shining feet upon, when thou art at a festival. Nay
come, and I will give thee one of the younger of the Graces, to wed and to be
called thy wife.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So she spake, and Sleep was glad, and answered and said:—&ldquo;Come now, swear
to me by the inviolable water of Styx, and with one of thy hands grasp the
bounteous earth, and with the other the shining sea, that all may be witnesses
to us, even all the gods below that are with Kronos, that verily thou wilt give
me one of the younger of the Graces, even Pasithea, that myself do long for all
my days.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, nor did she disobey, the white-armed goddess Hera; she sware as he
bade her, and called all the gods by name, even those below Tartaros that are
called Titans. But when she had sworn and ended that oath, the twain left the
citadel of Lemnos, and of Imbros, clothed on in mist, and swiftly they
accomplished the way. To many-fountained Ida they came, the mother of wild
beasts, to Lekton, where first they left the sea, and they twain fared above
the dry land, and the topmost forest waved beneath their feet. There Sleep
halted, ere the eyes of Zeus beheld him, and alighted on a tall pine tree, the
loftiest pine that then in all Ida rose through the nether to the upper air.
But Hera swiftly drew nigh to topmost Gargaros, the highest crest of Ida, and
Zeus the cloud-gatherer beheld her. And as he saw her, so love came over his
deep heart, and he stood before her, and spoke, and said: &ldquo;Hera, with
what desire comest thou thus hither from Olympus, and thy horses and chariot
are not here, whereon thou mightst ascend?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then with crafty purpose lady Hera answered him: &ldquo;I am going to visit the
limits of the bountiful Earth, and Okeanos, father of the gods, and mother
Tethys, who reared me well and cherished me in their halls. Them am I going to
visit, and their endless strife will I loose, for already this long time they
hold apart from each other, since wrath hath settled in their hearts. But my
horses are standing at the foot of many-fountained Ida, my horses that shall
bear me over wet and dry. And now it is because of thee that I am thus come
hither, down from Olympus, lest perchance thou mightest be wroth with me
hereafter, if silently I were gone to the mansion of deep-flowing
Okeanos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Zeus, the gatherer of the clouds, answered her and said: &ldquo;Hera,
thither mayst thou go on a later day. For never once as thus did the love of
goddess or woman so mightily overflow and conquer the heart within my
breast.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus slept the Father in quiet on the crest of Gargaros, by Sleep and love
overcome. But sweet Sleep started and ran to the ships of the Achaians, to tell
his tidings to the god that holdeth and shaketh the earth. And he stood near
him, and spake winged words: &ldquo;Eagerly now, Poseidon, do thou aid the
Danaans, and give them glory for a little space, while yet Zeus sleepeth, for
over him have I shed soft slumber, and Hera hath beguiled him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and passed to the renowned tribes of men, and still the more did
he set on Poseidon to aid the Danaans, who straightway sprang far afront of the
foremost, and called to them: &ldquo;Argives, are we again to yield the victory
to Hector, son of Priam, that he may take our ships and win renown? Nay, even
so he saith and declareth that he will do, for that Achilles by the hollow
ships abides angered at heart. But for him there will be no such extreme
regret, if we spur us on to aid each the other. Nay come, as I command, let us
all obey. Let us harness us in the best shields that are in the host, and the
greatest, and cover our heads with shining helms, and take the longest spears
in our hands, and so go forth. Yea, and I will lead the way, and methinks that
Hector, son of Priam, will not long await us, for all his eagerness. And
whatsoever man is steadfast in battle, and hath a small buckler on his
shoulder, let him give it to a worse man, and harness him in a larger
shield.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and they heard him eagerly and obeyed him. And them the kings
themselves arrayed, wounded as they were, Tydeus&rsquo; son, and Odysseus, and
Agamemnon, son of Atreus. They went through all the host, and made exchange of
weapons of war. The good arms did the good warrior harness him in, the worse he
gave to the worse. But when they had done on the shining bronze about their
bodies, they started on the march, and Poseidon led them, the Shaker of the
earth, with a dread sword of fine edge in his strong hand, like unto lightning;
wherewith it is not permitted that any should mingle in woful war, but fear
holds men afar therefrom. But the Trojans on the other side was renowned Hector
arraying. Then did they now strain the fiercest strife of war, even dark-haired
Poseidon and glorious Hector, one succouring the Trojans, the other with the
Argives. And the sea washed up to the huts and ships of the Argives, and they
gathered together with a mighty cry. Not so loudly bellows the wave of the sea
against the land, stirred up from the deep by the harsh breath of the north
wind, nor so loud is the roar of burning fire in the glades of a mountain, when
it springs to burn up the forest, nor calls the wind so loudly in the high
leafy tresses of the trees, when it rages and roars its loudest, as then was
the cry of the Trojans and Achaians, shouting dreadfully as they rushed upon
each other.
</p>

<p>
First glorious Hector cast with his spear at Aias, who was facing him full, and
did not miss, striking him where two belts were stretched across his breast,
the belt of his shield, and of his silver-studded sword; these guarded his
tender flesh. And Hector was enraged because his swift spear had flown vainly
from his hand, and he retreated into the throng of his fellows, avoiding Fate.
</p>

<p>
Then as he was departing the great Telamonian Aias smote him with a huge stone;
for many stones, the props of swift ships, were rolled among the feet of the
fighters; one of these he lifted, and smote Hector on the breast, over the
shield-rim, near the neck, and made him spin like a top with the blow, that he
reeled round and round. And even as when an oak falls uprooted beneath the
stroke of father Zeus, and a dread savour of brimstone arises therefrom, and
whoso stands near and beholds it has no more courage, for dread is the bolt of
great Zeus, even so fell mighty Hector straightway in the dust. And the spear
fell from his hand, but his shield and helm were made fast to him, and round
him rang his arms adorned with bronze.
</p>

<p>
Then with a loud cry they ran up, the sons of the Achaians, hoping to drag him
away, and they cast showers of darts. But not one availed to wound or smite the
shepherd of the host, before that might be the bravest gathered about him,
Polydamas, and Aineias, and goodly Agenor, and Sarpedon, leader of the Lykians,
and noble Glaukos, and of the rest not one was heedless of him, but they held
their round shields in front of him, and his comrades lifted him in their arms,
and bare him out of the battle, till he reached his swift horses that were
standing waiting for him, with the charioteer and the fair-dight chariot at the
rear of the combat and the war. These toward the city bore him heavily moaning.
Now when they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, of eddying Xanthos,
that immortal Zeus begat, there they lifted him from the chariot to the ground,
and poured water over him, and he gat back his breath, and looked up with his
eyes, and sitting on his heels kneeling, he vomited black blood. Then again he
sank back on the ground, and black night covered his eyes, the stroke still
conquering his spirit.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap15"></a>BOOK XV.</h2>

<p class="letter">
Zeus awakening, biddeth Apollo revive Hector, and restore the fortunes of the
Trojans. Fire is thrown on the ship of Protesilaos.
</p>

<p>
Now when they had sped in flight across the palisade and trench, and many were
overcome at the hands of the Danaans, the rest were stayed, and abode beside
the chariots in confusion, and pale with terror, and Zeus awoke, on the peaks
of Ida, beside Hera of the golden throne. Then he leaped up, and stood, and
beheld the Trojans and Achaians, those in flight, and these driving them on
from the rear, even the Argives, and among them the prince Poseidon. And Hector
he saw lying on the plain, and around him sat his comrades, and he was gasping
with difficult breath, and his mind wandering, and was vomiting blood, for it
was not the weakest of the Achaians that had smitten him. Beholding him, the
father of men and gods had pity on him, and terribly he spoke to Hera, with
fierce look: &ldquo;O thou ill to deal with, Hera, verily it is thy crafty wile
that has made noble Hector cease from the fight, and has terrified the host.
Nay, but yet I know not whether thou mayst not be the first to reap the fruits
of thy cruel treason, and I beat thee with stripes. Dost thou not remember,
when thou wert hung from on high, and from thy feet I suspended two anvils, and
round thy hands fastened a golden bond that might not be broken? And thou didst
hang in the clear air and the clouds, and the gods were wroth in high Olympus,
but they could not come round and unloose thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and the ox-eyed lady Hera shuddered, and spake unto him winged
words, saying: &ldquo;Let earth now be witness hereto, and wide heaven above,
and that falling water of Styx, the greatest oath and the most terrible to the
blessed gods, and thine own sacred head, and our own bridal bed, whereby never
would I forswear myself, that not by my will does earth-shaking Poseidon
trouble the Trojans and Hector, and succour them of the other part. Nay, it is
his own soul that urgeth and commandeth him, and he had pity on the Achaians,
when he beheld them hard pressed beside the ships. I would even counsel him
also to go even where thou, lord of the storm-cloud, mayst lead him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake she, and the father of gods and men smiled, and answering her he spake
winged words: &ldquo;If thou, of a truth, O ox-eyed lady Hera, wouldst
hereafter abide of one mind with me among the immortal gods, thereon would
Poseidon, howsoever much his wish be contrariwise, quickly turn his mind
otherwhere, after thy heart and mine. But if indeed thou speakest the truth and
soothly, go thou now among the tribes of the gods, and call Iris to come
hither, and Apollo, the renowned archer, that Iris may go among the host of
mail-clad Achaians and tell Poseidon the prince to cease from the war, and get
him unto his own house. But let Phoebus Apollo spur Hector on to the war, and
breathe strength into him again, and make him forget his anguish, that now
wears down his heart, and drive the Achaians back again, when he hath stirred
in them craven fear. Let them flee and fall among the many-benched ships of
Achilles son of Peleus, and he shall rouse his own comrade, Patroklos; and him
shall renowned Hector slay with the spear, in front of Ilios, after that he has
slain many other youths, and among them my son, noble Sarpedon. In wrath
therefor shall goodly Achilles slay Hector. From that hour verily will I cause
a new pursuit from the ships, that shall endure continually, even until the
Achaians take steep Ilios, through the counsels of Athene. But before that hour
neither do I cease in my wrath, nor will I suffer any other of the Immortals to
help the Danaans there, before I accomplish that desire of the son of Peleus,
as I promised him at the first, and confirmed the same with a nod of my head,
on that day when the goddess Thetis clasped my knees, imploring me to honour
Achilles, the sacker of cities.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, nor did the white-armed goddess Hera disobey him, and she sped
down from the hills of Ida to high Olympus, and went among the gathering of the
immortal gods. And she called Apollo without the hall and Iris, that is the
messenger of the immortal gods, and she spake winged words, and addressed them,
saying: &ldquo;Zeus bids you go to Ida as swiftly as may be, and when ye have
gone, and looked on the face of Zeus, do ye whatsoever he shall order and
command.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And these twain came before the face of Zeus the cloud gatherer, and stood
there, and he was nowise displeased at heart when he beheld them, for that
speedily they had obeyed the words of his dear wife. And to Iris first he spake
winged words: &ldquo;Go, get thee, swift Iris, to the prince Poseidon, and tell
him all these things, nor be a false messenger. Command him to cease from war
and battle, and to go among the tribes of the gods, or into the bright sea. But
if he will not obey my words, but will hold me in no regard, then let him
consider in his heart and mind, lest he dare not for all his strength to abide
me when I come against him, since I deem me to be far mightier than he, and
elder born.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, nor did the wind-footed fleet Iris disobey him, but went down the
hills of Ida to sacred Ilios. And as when snow or chill hail fleets from the
clouds beneath the stress of the North Wind born in the clear air, so fleetly
she fled in her eagerness, swift Iris, and drew near the renowned Earth-shaker
and spake to him the message of Zeus. And he left the host of the Achaians, and
passed to the sea, and sank, and sorely they missed him, the heroes of the
Achaians.
</p>

<p>
Then Zeus, the gatherer of the clouds, spake to Apollo, saying: &ldquo;Go now,
dear Phoebus, to Hector of the helm of bronze. Let glorious Hector be thy care,
and rouse in him great wrath even till the Achaians come in their flight to the
ships, and the Hellespont. And from that moment will I devise word and deed
wherewithal the Achaians may take breath again from their toil.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, nor was Apollo deaf to the word of the Father, but he went down
the hills of Ida like a fleet falcon, the bane of doves, that is the swiftest
of flying things. And he found the son of wise-hearted Priam, noble Hector,
sitting up, no longer lying, for he had but late got back his life, and knew
the comrades around him, and his gasping and his sweat had ceased, from the
moment when the will of aegis-bearing Zeus began to revive him. Then
far-darting Apollo stood near him, and spake to him: &ldquo;Hector, son of
Priam, why dost thou sit fainting apart from the others? Is it perchance that
some trouble cometh upon thee?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then, with faint breath answered him Hector of the glancing helm: &ldquo;Nay,
but who art thou, best of the gods, who enquirest of me face to face? Dost thou
not know that by the hindmost row of the ships of the Achaians, Aias of the
loud war-cry smote me on the breast with a stone, as I was slaying his
comrades, and made me cease from mine impetuous might? And verily I deemed that
this very day I should pass to the dead, and the house of Hades, when I had
gasped my life away.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then prince Apollo the Far-darter answered him again: &ldquo;Take courage now,
so great an ally hath the son of Kronos sent thee out of Ida, to stand by thee
and defend thee, even Phoebus Apollo of the golden sword, me who of old defend
thee, thyself and the steep citadel. But come now, bid thy many charioteers
drive their swift steeds against the hollow ships, and I will go before and
make smooth all the way for the chariots, and will put to flight the Achaian
heroes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake, and breathed great might into the shepherd of the host, and even
as when a stalled horse, full fed at the manger, breaks his tether and speedeth
at the gallop over the plain exultingly, being wont to bathe in the
fair-flowing stream, and holds his head on high, and the mane floweth about his
shoulders, and he trusteth in his glory, and nimbly his knees bear him to the
haunts and pasture of the mares, even so Hector lightly moved his feet and
knees, urging on his horsemen, when he heard the voice of the god. But as when
hounds and country folk pursue a horned stag, or a wild goat, that steep rock
and shady wood save from them, nor is it their lot to find him, but at their
clamour a bearded lion hath shown himself on the way, and lightly turned them
all despite their eagerness, even so the Danaans for a while followed on always
in their companies, smiting with swords and double-pointed spears, but when
they saw Hector going up and down the ranks of men, then were they afraid, and
the hearts of all fell to their feet.
</p>

<p>
Then to them spake Thoas, son of Andraimon, far the best of the Aitolians,
skilled in throwing the dart, and good in close fight, and in council did few
of the Achaians surpass him, when the young men were striving in debate; he
made harangue and spake among them: &ldquo;Alas, and verily a great marvel is
this I behold with mine eyes, how he hath again arisen, and hath avoided the
Fates, even Hector. Surely each of us hoped in his heart, that he had died
beneath the hand of Aias, son of Telamon. But some one of the gods again hath
delivered and saved Hector, who verily hath loosened the knees of many of the
Danaans, as methinks will befall even now, for not without the will of
loud-thundering Zeus doth he rise in the front ranks, thus eager for battle.
But come, as I declare let us all obey. Let us bid the throng turn back to the
ships, but let us as many as avow us to be the best in the host, take our
stand, if perchance first we may meet him, and hold him off with outstretched
spears, and he, methinks, for all his eagerness, will fear at heart to enter
into the press of the Danaans.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and they heard him eagerly, and obeyed him. They that were with
Aias and the prince Idomeneus, and Teukros, and Neriones, and Meges the peer of
Ares, called to all the best of the warriors and sustained the fight with
Hector and the Trojans, but behind them the multitude returned to the ships of
the Achaians.
</p>

<p>
Now the Trojans drave forward in close ranks, and with long strides Hector led
them, while in front of him went Phoebus Apollo, his shoulders wrapped in
cloud, and still he held the fell aegis, dread, circled with a shaggy fringe,
and gleaming, that Hephaistos the smith gave to Zeus, to bear for the terror of
men; with this in his hands did he lead the host.
</p>

<p>
Now the Argives abode them in close ranks, and shrill the cry arose on both
sides, and the arrows leaped from the bow-strings, and many spears from
stalwart hands, whereof some stood fast in the flesh of young men swift in
fight, but many halfway, ere ever they reached the white flesh, stuck in the
ground, longing to glut themselves with flesh. Now so long as Phoebus Apollo
held the aegis unmoved in his hands, so long the darts smote either side amain,
and the folk fell. But when he looked face to face on the Danaans of the swift
steeds, and shook the aegis, and himself shouted mightily, he quelled their
heart in their breast, and they forgot their impetuous valour. And as when two
wild beasts drive in confusion a herd of kine, or a great flock of sheep, in
the dark hour of black night, coming swiftly on them when the herdsman is not
by, even so were the Achaians terror-stricken and strengthless, for Apollo sent
a panic among them, but still gave renown to the Trojans and Hector.
</p>

<p>
And Hector smote his horses on the shoulder with the lash, and called aloud on
the Trojans along the ranks. And they all cried out, and level with his held
the steeds that drew their chariots, with a marvellous din, and in front of
them Phoebus Apollo lightly dashed down with his feet the banks of the deep
ditch, and cast them into the midst thereof, making a bridgeway long and wide
as is a spear-cast, when a man throws to make trial of his strength. Thereby
the Trojans poured forward in their battalions, while in their van Apollo held
the splendid aegis. And most easily did he cast down the wall of the Achaians,
as when a boy scatters the sand beside the sea, first making sand buildings for
sport in his childishness, and then again, in his sport, confounding them with
his feet and hands; even so didst thou, archer Apollo, confound the long toil
and labour of the Argives, and among them rouse a panic fear.
</p>

<p>
So they were halting, and abiding by the ships, calling each to other; and
lifting their hands to all the gods did each man pray vehemently, and chiefly
prayed Nestor, the Warden of the Achaians, stretching his hand towards the
starry heaven: &ldquo;O father Zeus, if ever any one of us in wheat-bearing
Argos did burn to thee fat thighs of bull or sheep, and prayed that he might
return, and thou didst promise and assent thereto, of these things be thou
mindful, and avert, Olympian, the pitiless day, nor suffer the Trojans thus to
overcome the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he in his prayer, and Zeus, the Lord of counsel, thundered loudly,
hearing the prayers of the ancient son of Neleus.
</p>

<p>
But the Trojans when they heard the thunder of aegis-bearing Zeus, rushed yet
the more eagerly upon the Argives, and were mindful of the joy of battle. And
as when a great wave of the wide sea sweeps over the bulwarks of a ship, the
might of the wind constraining it, which chiefly swells the waves, even so did
the Trojans with a great cry bound over the wall, and drave their horses on,
and at the hindmost row of the ships were fighting hand to hand with
double-pointed spears, the Trojans from the chariots, but the Achaians climbing
up aloft, from the black ships with long pikes that they had lying in the ships
for battle at sea, jointed pikes shod at the head with bronze.
</p>

<p>
Now the Trojans, like ravening lions, rushed upon the ships, fulfilling the
behests of Zeus, that ever was rousing their great wrath, but softened the
temper of the Argives, and took away their glory, while he spurred on the
others. For the heart of Zeus was set on giving glory to Hector, the son of
Priam, that withal he might cast fierce-blazing fire, unwearied, upon the
beaked ships, and so fulfil all the presumptuous prayer of Thetis; wherefore
wise-counselling Zeus awaited, till his eyes should see the glare of a burning
ship. For even from that hour was he to ordain the backward chase of the
Trojans from the ships, and to give glory to the Danaans. With this design was
he rousing Hector, Priam&rsquo;s son, that himself was right eager, against the
hollow ships. For short of life was he to be, yea, and already Pallas Athene
was urging against him the day of destiny, at the hand of the son of Peleus.
And fain he was to break the ranks of men, trying them wheresoever he saw the
thickest press, and the goodliest harness. Yet not even so might he break them
for all his eagerness. Nay, they stood firm, and embattled like a steep rock
and a great, hard by the hoary sea, a rock that abides the swift paths of the
shrill winds, and the swelling waves that roar against it. Even so the Danaans
steadfastly abode the Trojans and fled not away. But Hector shining with fire
on all sides leaped on the throng, and fell upon them, as when beneath the
storm-clouds a fleet wave reared of the winds falls on a swift ship, and she is
all hidden with foam, and the dread blast of the wind roars against the sail,
and the sailors fear, and tremble in their hearts, for by but a little way are
they borne forth from death, even so the spirit was torn in the breasts of the
Achaians.
</p>

<p>
So again keen battle was set by the ships. Thou wouldst deem that unwearied and
unworn they met each other in war, so eagerly they fought. And in their
striving they were minded thus; the Achaians verily deemed that never would
they flee from the danger, but perish there, but the heart of each Trojan hoped
in his breast, that they should fire the ships, and slay the heroes of the
Achaians. With these imaginations they stood to each other, and Hector seized
the stern of a seafaring ship, a fair ship, swift on the brine, that had borne
Protesilaos to Troia, but brought him not back again to his own country. Now
round his ship the Achaians and Trojans warred on each other hand to hand, nor
far apart did they endure the flights of arrows, nor of darts, but standing
hard each by other, with one heart, with sharp axes and hatchets they fought,
and with great swords, and double-pointed spears. And many fair brands,
dark-scabbarded and hilted, fell to the ground, some from the hands, some from
off the shoulders of warring men, and the black earth ran with blood. But
Hector, after that once he had seized the ship&rsquo;s stern, left not his
hold, keeping the ensign in his hands, and he called to the Trojans:
&ldquo;Bring fire, and all with one voice do ye raise the war-cry; now hath
Zeus given us the dearest day of all,—to take the ships that came hither
against the will of the gods, and brought many woes upon us, by the cowardice
of the elders, who withheld me when I was eager to fight at the sterns of the
ships, and kept back the host. But if even then far-seeing Zeus did harm our
wits, now he himself doth urge and command us onwards.&rdquo; So spake he, and
they set yet the fiercer on the Argives. And Aias no longer abode their onset,
for he was driven back by the darts, but he withdrew a little,—thinking that
now he should die,—on to the oarsmal&rsquo;s bench of seven feet long, and he
left the decks of the trim ship. There then he stood on the watch, and with his
spear he ever drave the Trojans from the ships, whosoever brought unwearied
fire, and ever he shouted terribly, calling to the Danaans: &ldquo;O friends,
Danaan heroes, men of Ares&rsquo; company, play the man, my friends, and be
mindful of impetuous valour. Do we deem that there be allies at our backs, or
some wall stronger than this to ward off death from men? Verily there is not
hard by any city arrayed with towers, whereby we might defend ourselves, having
a host that could turn the balance of battle. Nay, but we are set down in the
plain of the mailed men of Troy, with our backs against the sea, and far off
from our own land. Therefore is safety in battle, and not in slackening from
the fight.&rdquo; So spake he, and rushed on ravening for battle, with his keen
spear. And whosoever of the Trojans was coming against the ship with blazing
fire, to pleasure Hector at his urging, him would Aias wound, awaiting him with
his long spear, and twelve men in front of the ships at close quarters did he
wound.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap16"></a>BOOK XVI.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Patroklos fought in the armour of Achilles, and drove the Trojans from the
ships, but was slain at last by Hector.
</p>

<p>
So they were warring round the well-timbered ship, but Patroklos drew near
Achilles, shepherd of the host, and he shed warm tears, even as a fountain of
dark water that down a steep cliff pours its cloudy stream. And noble
swift-footed Achilles when he beheld him was grieved for his sake, and accosted
him, and spake winged words, saying: &ldquo;Wherefore weepest thou, Patroklos,
like a fond little maid, that runs by her mother&rsquo;s side, and bids her
mother take her up, snatching at her gown, and hinders her in her going, and
tearfully looks at her, till the mother takes her up? like her, Patroklos, dost
thou let fall soft tears. Hast thou aught to tell to the Myrmidons, or to me
myself, or is it some tidings out of Phthia that thou alone hast beard? Or dost
thou lament for the sake of the Argives,—how they perish by the hollow ships
through their own transgression? Speak out, and hide it not within thy spirit,
that we may both know all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But with a heavy groan didst thou speak unto him, O knight Patroklos: &ldquo;O
Achilles, son of Peleus, far the bravest of the Achaians, be not wroth, seeing
that so great calamity has beset the Achaians. For verily all of them that
aforetime were the best are lying among the ships, smitten and wounded. Smitten
is the son of Tydeus, strong Diomedes, and wounded is Odysseus, spearman
renowned, and Agamemnon; and smitten is Eurypylos on the thigh with an arrow.
And about them the leeches skilled in medicines are busy, healing their wounds,
but thou art hard to reconcile, Achilles. Never then may such wrath take hold
of me as that thou nursest; thou brave to the hurting of others. What other men
later born shall have profit of thee, if thou dost not ward off base ruin from
the Argives? Pitiless that thou art, the knight Peleus was not then thy father,
nor Thetis thy mother, but the grey sea bare thee, and the sheer cliffs, so
untoward is thy spirit. But if in thy heart thou art shunning some oracle, and
thy lady mother hath told thee somewhat from Zeus, yet me do thou send forth
quickly, and make the rest of the host of the Myrmidons follow me, if yet any
light may arise from me to the Danaans. And give me thy harness to buckle about
my shoulders, if perchance the Trojans may take me for thee, and so abstain
from battle, and the warlike sons of the Achaians may take breath, wearied as
they be, for brief is the breathing in war. And lightly might we that are fresh
drive men wearied with the battle back to the citadel, away from the ships and
the huts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake and besought him, in his unwittingness, for truly it was to be his
own evil death and fate that he prayed for. Then to him in great heaviness
spake swift-footed Achilles: &ldquo;Ah me, Patroklos of the seed of Zeus, what
word hast thou spoken? Neither take I heed of any oracle that I wot of, nor yet
has my lady mother told me somewhat from Zeus, but this dread sorrow comes upon
my heart and spirit, from the hour that a man wishes to rob me who am his
equal, and to take away my prize, for that he excels me in power. A dread
sorrow to me is this, after all the toils that my heart hath endured. The
maiden that the sons of the Achaians chose out for me as my prize, and that I
won with my spear when I sacked a well-walled city, her has mighty Agamemnon
the son of Atreus taken back out of my hands, as though I were but some
sojourner dishonourable. But we will let bygones be bygones. No man may be
angry of heart for ever, yet verily I said that I would not cease from my
wrath, until that time when to mine own ships should come the war-cry and the
battle. But do thou on thy shoulders my famous harness, and lead the war-loving
Myrmidons to the fight, to ward off destruction from the ships, lest they even
burn the ships with blazing fire, and take away our desired return. But when
thou hast driven them from the ships, return, and even if the loud-thundering
lord of Hera grant thee to win glory, yet long not thou apart from me to fight
with the war-loving Trojans; thereby wilt thou minish mine honour. Neither do
thou, exulting in war and strife, and slaying the Trojans, lead on toward
Ilios, lest one of the eternal gods from Olympus come against thee; right
dearly doth Apollo the Far-darter love them. Nay, return back when thou halt
brought safety to the ships, and suffer the rest to fight along the plain. For
would, O father Zeus, and Athene, and Apollo, would that not one of all the
Trojans might escape death, nor one of the Argives, but that we twain might
avoid destruction, that alone we might undo the sacred coronal of Troy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake they each to other, but Aias no longer abode the onset, for he was
overpowered by darts; the counsel of Zeus was subduing him, and the shafts of
the proud Trojans; and his bright helmet, being smitten, kept ringing terribly
about his temples: for always it was smitten upon the fair-wrought
cheek-pieces. Moreover his left shoulder was wearied, as steadfastly he held up
his glittering shield, nor yet could they make him give ground, as they pressed
on with their darts around him. And ever he was worn out with difficult breath,
and much sweat kept running from all his limbs, nor had he a moment to draw
breath, so on all sides was evil heaped on evil.
</p>

<p>
Tell me now, ye Muses that have mansions in Olympus, how first fire fell on the
ships of the Achaians. Hector drew near, and the ashen spear of Aias he smote
with his great sword, hard by the socket, behind the point, and shore it clean
away, and the son of Telamon brandished in his hand no more than a pointless
spear, and far from him the head of bronze fell ringing on the ground.
</p>

<p>
And Aias knew in his noble heart, and shuddered at the deeds of the gods, even
how Zeus that thundereth on high did utterly cut off from him avail in war, and
desired victory for the Trojans. Then Aias gave back out of the darts. But the
Trojans cast on the swift ship unwearying fire, and instantly the
inextinguishable flame streamed over her: so the fire begirt the stern, whereon
Achilles smote his thighs, and spake to Patroklos: &ldquo;Arise, Patroklos of
the seed of Zeus, commander of the horsemen, for truly I see by the ships the
rush of the consuming fire. Up then, lest they take the ships, and there be no
more retreat; do on thy harness speedily, and I will summon the host.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, while Patroklos was harnessing him in shining bronze. His goodly
greaves, fitted with silver clasps, he first girt round his legs, and next did
on around his breast the well-dight starry corslet of the swift-footed son of
Aiakos. And round his shoulders he cast a sword of bronze, with studs of
silver, and next took the great and mighty shield, and on his proud head set a
well-wrought helm with a horse-hair crest, and terribly nodded the crest from
above. Then seized he two strong lances that fitted his grasp, only he took not
the spear of the noble son of Aiakos, heavy, and huge, and stalwart, that none
other of the Achaians could wield. And Patroklos bade Automedon to yoke the
horses speedily, even Automedon whom most he honoured after Achilles, the
breaker of the ranks of men, and whom he held trustiest in battle to abide his
call. And for him Automedon led beneath the yoke the swift horses, Xanthos and
Balios, that fly as swift as the winds, the horses that the harpy Podarge bare
to the West Wind, as she grazed on the meadow by the stream of Okeanos. And in
the side-traces he put the goodly Pedasos, that Achilles carried away, when he
took the city of Eetion; and being but a mortal steed, he followed with the
immortal horses.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile Achilles went and harnessed all the Myrmidons in the huts with
armour, and they gathered like ravening wolves with strength in their hearts
unspeakable. And among them all stood warlike Achilles urging on the horses and
the targeteers. And he aroused the heart and valour of each of them, and the
ranks were yet the closer serried when they heard the prince. And as when a man
builds the wall of a high house with close-set stones, to avoid the might of
the winds, even so close were arrayed the helmets and bossy shields, and shield
pressed on shield, helm on helm, and man on man, and the horse-hair crests on
the bright helmet-ridges touched each other when they nodded, so close they
stood by each other.
</p>

<p>
And straightway they poured forth like wasps that have their dwelling by the
wayside, and that boys are ever wont to vex, always tormenting them in their
nests beside the way in childish sport, and a common evil they make for many.
With heart and spirit like theirs the Myrmidons poured out now from the ships,
and a cry arose unquenchable, and Patroklos called on his comrades, shouting
aloud: &ldquo;Myrmidons, ye comrades of Achilles son of Peleus, be men, my
friends, and be mindful of your impetuous valour, that so we may win honour for
the son of Peleus, that is far the bravest of the Argives by the ships, and
whose close-fighting squires are the best. And let wide-ruling Agamemnon the
son of Atreus learn his own blindness of heart, in that he nothing honoured the
best of the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and aroused each mal&rsquo;s heart and courage, and all in a mass
they fell on the Trojans, and the ships around echoed wondrously to the cry of
the Achaians. But when the Trojans beheld the strong son of Menoitios, himself
and his squire, shining in their armour, the heart was stirred in all of them,
and the companies wavered, for they deemed that by the ships the swift-footed
son of Peleus had cast away his wrath, and chosen reconcilement: then each man
glanced round, to see where he might flee sheer destruction.
</p>

<p>
But Patroklos first with a shining spear cast straight into the press, where
most men were thronging, even by the stern of the ship of great-hearted
Protesilaos, and he smote Pyraichmes, who led his Paionian horsemen out of
Amydon, from the wide water of Axios; him he smote on the right shoulder, and
he fell on his back in the dust with a groan, and his comrades around him, the
Paionians, were afraid, for Patroklos sent fear among them all, when he slew
their leader that was ever the best in fight. Then he drove them out from the
ships, and quenched the burning fire. And the half-burnt ship was left there,
and the Trojans fled, with a marvellous din, and the Danaans poured in among
the hollow ships, and ceaseless was the shouting. And as when from the high
crest of a great hill Zeus, the gatherer of the lightning, hath stirred a dense
cloud, and forth shine all the peaks, and sharp promontories, and glades, and
from heaven the infinite air breaks open, even so the Danaans, having driven
the blazing fire from the ships, for a little while took breath, but there was
no pause in the battle. For not yet were the Trojans driven in utter rout by
the Achaians, dear to Ares, from the black ships, but they still stood up
against them, and only perforce gave ground from the ships. But even as robber
wolves fall on the lambs or kids, choosing them out of the herds, when they are
scattered on hills by the witlessness of the shepherd, and the wolves behold
it, and speedily harry the younglings that have no heart of courage,—even so
the Danaans fell on the Trojans, and they were mindful of ill-sounding flight,
and forgot their impetuous valour.
</p>

<p>
But that great Aias ever was fain to cast his spear at Hector of the helm of
bronze, but he, in his cunning of war, covered his broad shoulders with his
shield of bulls&rsquo; hide, and watched the hurtling of the arrows, and the
noise of spears. And verily well he knew the change in the mastery of war, but
even so he abode, and was striving to rescue his trusty comrades.
</p>

<p>
And as when from Olympus a cloud fares into heaven, from the sacred air, when
Zeus spreadeth forth the tempest, even so from the ships came the war-cry and
the rout, nor in order due did they cross the ditch again. But his swift-footed
horses bare Hector forth with his arms, and he left the host of Troy, whom the
delved trench restrained against their will. And in the trench did many swift
steeds that draw the car break the fore-part of the pole, and leave the
chariots of their masters.
</p>

<p>
But Patroklos followed after, crying fiercely to the Danaans, and full of evil
will against the Trojans, while they with cries and flight filled all the ways,
for they were scattered, and on high the storm of dust was scattered below the
clouds, and the whole-hooved horses strained back towards the city, away from
the ships and the huts.
</p>

<p>
But even where Patroklos saw the folk thickest in the rout, thither did he
guide his horses with a cry, and under his axle-trees men fell prone from their
chariots, and the cars were overturned with a din of shattering. But straight
over the ditch, in forward flight, leaped the swift horses. And the heart of
Patroklos urged him against Hector, for he was eager to smite him, but his
swift steeds bore Hector forth and away. And even as beneath a tempest the
whole black earth is oppressed, on an autumn day, when Zeus pours forth rain
most vehemently, and all the rivers run full, and many a scaur the torrents
tear away, and down to the dark sea they rush headlong from the hills, roaring
mightily, and minished are the works of men, even so mighty was the roar of the
Trojan horses as they ran.
</p>

<p>
Now Patroklos when he had cloven the nearest companies, drave them backward
again to the ships, nor suffered them to approach the city, despite their
desire, but between the ships, and the river, and the lofty wall, he rushed on
them, and slew them, and avenged many a comrade slain. There first he smote
Pronoos with a shining spear, where the shield left bare the breast, and
loosened his limbs, and he fell with a crash. Then Thestor the son of Enops he
next assailed, as he sat crouching in the polished chariot, for he was struck
distraught, and the reins flew from his hands. Him he drew near, and smote with
the lance on the right jaw, and clean pierced through his teeth. And Patroklos
caught hold of the spear and dragged him over the rim of the car, as when a man
sits on a jutting rock, and drags a sacred fish forth from the sea, with line
and glittering hook of bronze; so on the bright spear dragged he Thestor gaping
from the chariot, and cast him down on his face and life left him as he fell.
Next, as Euryalos came on, he smote him on the midst of the head with a stone,
and all his head was shattered within the strong helmet, and prone on the earth
he fell, and death that slayeth the spirit overwhelmed him. Next Erymas, and
Amphoteros, and Epaltes and Tlepolemos son of Damastor, and Echios and Pyris,
and Ipheus and Euippos, and Polymelos son of Argeas, all these in turn he
brought low to the bounteous earth. But when Sarpedon beheld his comrades with
ungirdled doublets, subdued beneath the hands of Patroklos son of Menoitios, he
cried aloud, upbraiding the godlike Lykians: &ldquo;Shame, ye Lykians, whither
do ye flee? Now be ye strong, for I will encounter this man that I may know who
he is that conquers here, and verily many evils hath he wrought the Trojans, in
that he hath loosened the knees of many men and noble.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and leaped with his arms from the chariot to the ground. But
Patroklos, on the other side, when he beheld him leaped from his chariot. And
they, like vultures of crooked talons and curved beaks, that war with loud
yells on some high cliff, even so they rushed with cries against each other.
And beholding then the son of Kronos of the crooked counsels took pity on them,
and he spake to Hera, his sister and wife: &ldquo;Ah woe is me for that it is
fated that Sarpedon, the best-beloved of men to me, shall be subdued under
Patroklos son of Menoitios. And in two ways my heart within my breast is
divided, as I ponder whether I should catch him up alive out of the tearful
war, and set him down in the rich land of Lykia, or whether I should now subdue
him beneath the hands of the son of Menoitios.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the ox-eyed lady Hera made answer to him: &ldquo;Most dread son of Kronos,
what word is this thou hast spoken? A mortal man long doomed to fate dost thou
desire to deliver again from death of evil name? Work thy will, but all we
other gods will in no wise praise thee. And another thing I will tell thee, and
do thou lay it up in thy heart; if thou dost send Sarpedon living to his own
house, consider lest thereon some other god likewise desire to send his own
dear son away out of the strong battle. For round the great citadel of Priam
war many sons of the Immortals, and among the Immortals wilt thou send terrible
wrath. But if he be dear to thee, and thy heart mourns for him, truly then
suffer him to be subdued in the strong battle beneath the hands of Patroklos
son of Menoitios, but when his soul and life leave that warrior, send Death and
sweet Sleep to bear him, even till they come to the land of wide Lykia, there
will his kindred and friends bury him, with a barrow and a pillar, for this is
the due of the dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake she, nor did the father of gods and men disregard her. But he shed
bloody raindrops on the earth, honouring his dear son, that Patroklos was about
to slay in the deep-soiled land of Troia, far off from his own country. Now
when they were come near each other in onset, there verily did Patroklos smite
the renowned Thrasymelos, the good squire of the prince Sarpedon, on the lower
part of the belly, and loosened his limbs. But Sarpedon missed him with his
shining javelin, as he in turn rushed on, but wounded the horse Pedasos on the
right shoulder with the spear, and he shrieked as he breathed his life away,
and fell crying in the dust, and his spirit fled from him. But the other twain
reared this way and that, and the yoke creaked, and the reins were confused on
them, when their trace-horse lay in the dust. But thereof did Automedon, the
spearman renowned, find a remedy, and drawing his long-edged sword from his
stout thigh, he leaped forth, and cut adrift the horse, with no delay, and the
pair righted themselves, and strained in the reins, and they met again in
life-devouring war.
</p>

<p>
Then again Sarpedon missed with his shining dart, and the point of the spear
flew over the left shoulder of Patroklos and smote him not, but he in turn
arose with the bronze, and his javelin flew not vainly from his hand, but
struck Sarpedon even where the midriff clasps the beating heart. And he fell as
falls an oak, or a silver poplar, or a slim pine tree, that on the hills the
shipwrights fell with whetted axes, to be timber for ship-building; even so
before the horses and chariot he lay at length, moaning aloud, and clutching at
the bloody dust. And as when a lion hath fallen on a herd, and slain a bull,
tawny and high of heart, among the kine of trailing gait, and he perishes
groaning beneath the claws of the lion, even so under Patroklos did the leader
of the Lykian shieldmen rage, even in death, and he called to his dear comrade:
&ldquo;Dear Glaukos, warrior among warlike men, now most doth it behove thee to
be a spearman, and a hardy fighter: now let baneful war be dear to thee, if
indeed thou art a man of might. First fare all about and urge on the heroes
that be leaders of the Lykians, to fight for Sarpedon, and thereafter thyself
do battle for me with the sword. For to thee even in time to come shall I be
shame and disgrace for ever, all thy days, if the Achaians strip me of mine
armour, fallen in the gathering of the ships. Nay, hold out manfully, and spur
on all the host.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Even as he spake thus, the end of death veiled over his eyes and his nostrils,
but Patroklos, setting foot on his breast drew the spear out of his flesh, and
the midriff followed with the spear, so that he drew forth together the spear
point, and the soul of Sarpedon; and the Myrmidons held there his panting
steeds, eager to fly afar, since the chariot was reft of its lords.
</p>

<p>
Then dread sorrow came on Glaukos, when he heard the voice of Sarpedon, and his
heart was stirred, that he availed not to succour him. And with his hand he
caught and held his arm, for the wound galled him, the wound of the arrow
wherewith, as he pressed on towards the lofty wall, Teukros had smitten him,
warding off destruction from his fellows. Then in prayer spake Glaukos to
far-darting Apollo: &ldquo;Hear, O Prince that art somewhere in the rich land
of Lykia, or in Troia, for thou canst listen everywhere to the man that is in
need, as even now need cometh upon me. For I have this stark wound, and mine
arm is thoroughly pierced with sharp pains, nor can my blood be stanched, and
by the wound is my shoulder burdened, and I cannot hold my spear firm, nor go
and fight against the enemy. And the best of men has perished, Sarpedon, the
son of Zeus, and he succours not even his own child. But do thou, O Prince,
heal me this stark wound, and lull my pains, and give me strength, that I may
call on my Lykian kinsmen, and spur them to the war, and myself may fight about
the dead man fallen.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he in his prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him. Straightway he made
his pains to cease, and in the grievous wound stanched the black blood, and put
courage into his heart. And Glaukos knew it within him, and was glad, for that
the great god speedily heard his prayer. First went he all about and urged on
them that were leaders of the Lykians to fight around Sarpedon, and thereafter
he went with long strides among the Trojans, to Polydamas son of Panthoos and
noble Agenor, and he went after Aineias, and Hector of the helm of bronze, and
standing by them spake winged words: &ldquo;Hector, now surely art thou utterly
forgetful of the allies, that for thy sake, far from their friends and their
own country, breathe their lives away! but thou carest not to aid them!
Sarpedon lies low, the leader of the Lykian shieldmen, he that defended Lykia
by his dooms and his might, yea him hath mailed Ares subdued beneath the spear
of Patroklos. But, friends, stand by him, and be angry in your hearts lest the
Myrmidons strip him of his harness, and dishonour the dead, in wrath for the
sake of the Danaans, even them that perished, whom we slew with spears by the
swift ships.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and sorrow seized the Trojans utterly, ungovernable and not to be
borne; for Sarpedon was ever the stay of their city, all a stranger as he was,
for many people followed with him, and himself the best warrior of them all.
Then they made straight for the Danaans eagerly, and Hector led them, being
wroth for Sarpedol&rsquo;s sake. But the fierce heart of Patrokloa son of
Menoitios urged on the Achaians. And he spake first to the twain Aiantes that
themselves were right eager: &ldquo;Aiantes, now let defence be your desire,
and be such as afore ye were among men, or even braver yet. That man lies low
who first leaped on to the wall of the Achaians, even Sarpedon. Nay, let us
strive to take him, and work his body shame, and strip the harness from his
shoulders, and many a one of his comrades fighting for his sake let us subdue
with the pitiless bronze.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and they themselves were eager in defence. So on both sides they
strengthened the companies, Trojans and Lykians, Myrmidons and Achaians, and
they joined battle to fight around the dead man fallen; terribly they shouted,
and loud rang the harness of men. And as the din ariseth of woodcutters in the
glades of a mountain, and the sound thereof is heard far away, so rose the din
of them from the wide-wayed earth, the noise of bronze and of well-tanned
bulls&rsquo; hides smitten with swords and double-pointed spears. And now not
even a clear-sighted man could any longer have known noble Sarpedon, for with
darts and blood and dust was he covered wholly from head to foot. And ever men
thronged about the dead, as in a steading flies buzz around the full
milk-pails, in the season of spring, when the milk drenches the bowls, even so
thronged they about the dead. Nor ever did Zeus turn from the strong fight his
shining eyes, but ever looked down on them, and much in his heart he debated of
the slaying of Patroklos, whether there and then above divine Sarpedon glorious
Hector should slay him likewise in strong battle with the sword, and strip his
harness from his shoulders, or whether to more men yet he should deal sheer
labour of war. And thus to him as he pondered it seemed the better way, that
the gallant squire of Achilles, Peleus&rsquo; son, should straightway drive the
Trojans and Hector of the helm of bronze towards the city, and should rob many
of their life. And in Hector first he put a weakling heart, and leaping into
his car Hector turned in flight, and cried on the rest of the Trojans to flee,
for he knew the turning of the sacred scales of Zeus. Thereon neither did the
strong Lykians abide, but fled all in fear, when they beheld their king
stricken to the heart, lying in the company of the dead, for many had fallen
above him, when Kronion made fierce the fight. Then the others stripped from
the shoulders of Sarpedon his shining arms of bronze, and these the strong son
of Menoitios gave to his comrades to bear to the hollow ships. Then Zeus that
gathereth the clouds spake to Apollo: &ldquo;Prithee, dear Phoebus, go take
Sarpedon out of range of darts, and cleanse the black blood from him, and
thereafter bear him far away, and bathe him in the streams of the river, and
anoint him with ambrosia, and clothe him in garments that wax not old, and send
him to be wafted by fleet convoy, by the twin brethren Sleep and Death, that
quickly will set him in the rich land of wide Lykia. There will his kinsmen and
clansmen give him burial, with barrow and pillar, for such is the due of the
dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, nor was Apollo disobedient to his father. He went down the hills
of Ida to the dread battle din, and straight way bore goodly Sarpedon out of
the darts, and carried him far away and bathed him in the streams of the river,
and anointed him with ambrosia, and clad him in garments that wax not old, and
sent him to be wafted by fleet convoy, the twin brethren Sleep and Death, that
swiftly set him down in the rich land of wide Lykia. But Patroklos cried to his
horses and Automedon, and after the Trojans and Lykians went he, and so was
blindly forgetful, in his witlessness, for if he had kept the saying of the son
of Peleus, verily he should have escaped the evil fate of black death. But ever
is the wit of Zeus stronger than the wit of men, so now he roused the spirit of
Patroklos in his breast. There whom first, whom last didst thou slay,
Patroklos, when the gods called thee deathward? Adrestos first, and Autonoos,
and Echeklos, and Perimos, son of Megas, and Epistor, and Melanippos, and
thereafter Elasos, and Moulios, and Pylartes; these he slew, but the others
were each man of them fain of flight. Then would the sons of the Achaians have
taken high-gated Troy, by the hands of Patroklos, for around and before him he
raged with the spear, but that Phoebus Apollo stood on the well-builded wall,
with baneful thoughts towards Patroklos, and succouring the Trojans. Thrice
clomb Patroklos on the corner of the lofty wall, and thrice did Apollo force
him back and smote the shining shield with his immortal hands. But when for the
fourth time he came on like a god, then cried far-darting Apollo terribly, and
spake winged words: &ldquo;Give back, Patroklos of the seed of Zeus! Not
beneath thy spear is it fated that the city of the valiant Trojans shall fall,
nay nor beneath Achilles, a man far better than thou.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and Patroklos retreated far back, avoiding the wrath of
far-darting Apollo. But Hector within the Skaian gates was restraining his
whole-hooved horses, pondering whether he should drive again into the din and
fight, or should call unto the host to gather to the wall. While thus he was
thinking, Phoebus Apollo stood by him in the guise of a young man and a strong,
Asios, who was the mother&rsquo;s brother of horse-taming Hector, being own
brother of Hekabe, and son of Dymas, who dwelt in Phrygia, on the streams of
Sangarios. In his guise spake Apollo, son of Zeus, to Hector: &ldquo;Hector,
wherefore dost thou cease from fight? It doth not behove thee. Would that I
were as much stronger than thou as I am weaker, thereon quickly shouldst thou
stand aloof from war to thy hurt. But come, turn against Patroklos thy
strong-hooved horses, if perchance thou mayst slay him, and Apollo give thee
glory.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake the god, and went back again into the moil of men. But renowned Hector
bade wise-hearted Kebriones to lash his horses into the war. Then Apollo went
and passed into the press, and sent a dread panic among the Argives, but to the
Trojans and Hector gave he renown. And Hector let the other Argives be, and
slew none of them, but against Patroklos he turned his strong-hooved horses,
and Patroklos on the other side leaped from his chariot to the ground, with a
spear in his left hand, and in his other hand grasped a shining jagged stone,
that his hand covered. Firmly he planted himself and hurled it, nor long did he
shrink from his foe, nor was his cast in vain, but he struck Kebriones the
charioteer of Hector, the bastard son of renowned Priam, on the brow with the
sharp stone, as he held the reins of the horses. Both his brows the stone drave
together, and his bone held not, but his eyes fell to the ground in the dust,
there, in front of his feet. Then he, like a diver, fell from the well-wrought
car, and his spirit left his bones. Then taunting him didst thou address him,
knightly Patroklos: &ldquo;Out on it, how nimble a man, how lightly he diveth!
Yea, if perchance he were on the teeming deep, this man would satisfy many by
seeking for oysters, leaping from the ship, even if it were stormy weather, so
lightly now he diveth from the chariot into the plain. Verily among the Trojans
too there be diving men.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So speaking he set on the hero Kebriones with the rush of a lion, that while
wasting the cattle-pens is smitten in the breast, and his own valour is his
bane, even so against Kebriones, Patroklos, didst thou leap furiously. But
Hector, on the other side, leaped from his chariot to the ground. And these
twain strove for Kebriones like lions, that on the mountain peaks fight, both
hungering, both high of heart, for a slain hind. Even so for Kebriones&rsquo;
sake these two masters of the war-cry, Patroklos son of Menoitios, and renowned
Hector, were eager each to hew the other&rsquo;s flesh with the ruthless
bronze.
</p>

<p>
Hector then seized him by the head, and slackened not hold, while Patroklos on
the other side grasped him by the foot, and thereon the others, Trojans and
Danaans, joined strong battle. And as the East wind and the South contend with
one another in shaking a deep wood in the dells of a mountain, shaking beech,
and ash, and smooth-barked cornel tree, that clash against each other their
long boughs with marvellous din, and a noise of branches broken, so the Trojans
and Achaians were leaping on each other and slaying, nor had either side any
thought of ruinous flight. And many sharp darts were fixed around Kebriones,
and winged arrows leaping from the bow-string, and many mighty stones smote the
shields of them that fought around him. But he in the whirl of dust lay mighty
and mightily fallen, forgetful of his chivalry.
</p>

<p>
Now while the sun was going about mid-heaven, so long the darts smote either
side, and the host fell, but when the sun turned to the time of the loosing of
oxen, lo, then beyond their doom the Achaians proved the better. The hero
Kebriones drew they forth from the darts, out of the tumult of the Trojans, and
stripped the harness from his shoulders, and with ill design against the
Trojans, Patroklos rushed upon them. Three times then rushed he on, peer of
swift Ares, shouting terribly, and thrice he slew nine men. But when the fourth
time he sped on like a god, thereon to thee, Patroklos, did the end of life
appear, for Phoebus met thee in the strong battle, in dreadful wise. And
Patroklos was not ware of him coming through the press, for hidden in thick
mist did he meet him, and stood behind him, and smote his back and broad
shoulders with a down-stroke of his hand, and his eyes were dazed. And from his
head Phoebus Apollo smote the helmet that rolled rattling away with a din
beneath the hooves of the horses, the helm with upright socket, and the crests
were defiled with blood and dust. And all the long-shadowed spear was shattered
in the hands of Patroklos, the spear great and heavy and strong, and sharp,
while from his shoulders the tasselled shield with the baldric fell to the
ground.
</p>

<p>
And the prince Apollo, son of Zeus, loosed his corslet, and blindness seized
his heart and his shining limbs were unstrung, and he stood in amaze, and at
close quarters from behind a Dardanian smote him on the back, between the
shoulders, with a sharp spear, even Euphorbos, son of Panthoos, who excelled
them of his age in casting the spear, and in horsemanship, and in speed of
foot. Even thus, verily, had he cast down twenty men from their chariots,
though then first had he come with his car to learn the lesson of war. He it
was that first smote a dart into thee, knightly Patroklos, nor overcame thee,
but ran back again and mingled with the throng, first drawing forth from the
flesh his ashen spear, nor did he abide the onset of Patroklos, unarmed as he
was, in the strife. But Patroklos, being overcome by the stroke of the god, and
by the spear, gave ground, and retreated to the host of his comrades, avoiding
Fate. But Hector, when he beheld great-hearted Patroklos give ground, being
smitten with the keen bronze, came nigh unto him through the ranks, and wounded
him with a spear, in the lowermost part of the belly, and drave the bronze
clean through. And he fell with a crash, and sorely grieved the host of
Achaians. And as when a lion hath overcome in battle an untiring boar, they
twain fighting with high heart on the crests of a hill, about a little well,
and both are desirous to drink, and the lion hath by force overcome the boar
that draweth difficult breath; so after that he had slain many did Hector son
of Priam take the life away from the strong son of Menoitios, smiting him at
close quarters with the spear; and boasting over him he spake winged words:
&ldquo;Patroklos, surely thou saidst that thou wouldst sack my town, and from
Trojan women take away the day of freedom, and bring them in ships to thine own
dear country: fool! nay, in front of these were the swift horses of Hector
straining their speed for the fight; and myself in wielding the spear excel
among the war-loving Trojans, even I who ward from them the day of destiny: but
thee shall vultures here devour. Ah, wretch, surely Achilles for all his
valour, availed thee not, who straitly charged thee as thou camest, he abiding
there, saying, &lsquo;Come not to me, Patroklos lord of steeds, to the hollow
ships, till thou hast torn the gory doublet of man-slaying Hector about his
breast;&rsquo; so, surely, he spake to thee, and persuaded the wits of thee in
thy witlessness.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then faintly didst thou answer him, knightly Patroklos: &ldquo;Boast greatly,
as now, Hector, for to thee have Zeus, son of Kronos, and Apollo given the
victory, who lightly have subdued me; for themselves stripped my harness from
my shoulders. But if twenty such as thou had encountered me, here had they all
perished, subdued beneath my spear. But me have ruinous Fate and the son of
Leto slain, and of men Euphorbos, but thou art the third in my slaying. But
another thing will I tell thee, and do thou lay it up in thy heart: verily thou
thyself art not long to live, but already doth Death stand hard by thee, and
strong Fate, that thou art to be subdued by the hands of noble Achilles, of the
seed of Aiakos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Even as so he spake the end of death overshadowed him. And his soul, fleeting
from his limbs, went down to the house of Hades, wailing its own doom, leaving
manhood and youth.
</p>

<p>
Then renowned Hector spake to him even in his death: &ldquo;Patroklos,
wherefore to me dolt thou prophesy sheer destruction? who knows but that
Achilles, the child of fair-tressed Thetis, will first be smitten by my spear,
and lose his life?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and drew the spear of bronze from the wound, setting his foot on
the dead, and cast him off on his back from the spear. And straightway with the
spear he went after Automedon, the godlike squire of the swift-footed Aiakides,
for he was eager to smite him; but his swift-footed immortal horses bare him
out of the battle, horses that the gods gave to Peleus, a splendid gift.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap17"></a>BOOK XVII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
Of the battle around the body of Patroklos.
</p>

<p>
But Atreus&rsquo; son, Menelaos dear to Ares, was not unaware of the slaying of
Patroklos by the Trojans in the fray. He went up through the front of the fight
harnessed in flashing bronze, and strode over the body as above a first-born
calf standeth lowing its mother. Thus above Patroklos strode fair-haired
Menelaos, and before him held his spear and the circle of his shield, eager to
slay whoever should encounter him. Then was Panthoos&rsquo; son of the stout
ashen spear not heedless of noble Patroklos as he lay, and he smote on the
circle of the shield of Menelaos, but the bronze spear brake it not, but the
point was bent back in the stubborn shield. And Menelaos Atreus&rsquo; son in
his turn made at him with his bronze spear, having prayed unto father Zeus, and
as he gave back pierced the nether part of his throat, and threw his weight
into the stroke, following his heavy hand; and sheer through the tender neck
went the point of the spear. And he fell with a crash, and his armour rang upon
him. In blood was his hair drenched that was like unto the hair of the Graces,
and his tresses closely knit with bands of silver and gold.
</p>

<p>
Then easily would the son of Atreus have borne off the noble spoils of
Panthoos&rsquo; son, had not Phoebus Apollo grudged it to him, and aroused
against him Hector peer of swift Ares, putting on the semblance of a man, of
Mentes chief of the Kikones. And he spake aloud to him winged words:
&ldquo;Hector, now art thou hasting after things unattainable, even the horses
of wise Aiakides; for hard are they to be tamed or driven by mortal man, save
only Achilles whom an immortal mother bare. Meanwhile hath warlike Menelaos
Atreus&rsquo; son stridden over Patroklos and slain the best of the Trojans
there, even Panthoos&rsquo; son Euphorbos, and hath stayed him in his impetuous
might.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying the god went back into the strife of men, but dire grief darkened
Hectors inmost soul, and then he gazed searchingly along the lines, and
straightway was aware of the one man stripping off the noble arms, and the
other lying on the earth; and blood was flowing about the gaping wound. Then he
went through the front of the fight harnessed in flashing bronze, crying a
shrill cry, like unto Hephaistos&rsquo; flame unquenchable. Not deaf to his
shrill cry was Atreus&rsquo; son, and sore troubled he spake to his great
heart: &ldquo;Ay me, if I shall leave behind me these goodly arms, and
Patroklos who here lieth for my vengeance&rsquo; sake, I fear lest some Danaan
beholding it be wroth against me. But if for honour&rsquo;s sake I do battle
alone with Hector and the Trojans, I fear lest they come about me many against
one; for all the Trojans is bright-helmed Hector leading hither. But if I might
somewhere find Aias of the loud war-cry, then both together would we go and be
mindful of battle even were it against the power of heaven, if haply we might
save his dead for Achilles Peleus&rsquo; son: that were best among these
ills.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
While thus he communed with his mind and heart, therewithal the Trojan ranks
came onward, and Hector at their head. Then Menelaos gave backward, and left
the dead man, turning himself ever about like a deep-waned lion which men and
dogs chase from a fold with spears and cries; and his strong heart within him
groweth chill, and loth goeth he from the steading; so from Patroklos went
fair-haired Menelaos, and turned and stood, when he came to the host of his
comrades, searching for mighty Aias Telamol&rsquo;s son. Him very speedily he
espied on the left of the whole battle, cheering his comrades and rousing them
to fight, for great terror had Phoebus Apollo sent on them; and he hasted him
to run, and straightway stood by him and said: &ldquo;This way, beloved Aias;
let us bestir us for the dead Patroklos, if haply his naked corpse at least we
may carry to Achilles, though his armour is held by Hector of the glancing
helm.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and aroused the heart of wise Aias. And he went up through the
front of the fight, and with him fair-haired Menelaos. Now Hector, when he had
stripped from Patroklos his noble armour, was dragging him thence that he might
cut off the head from the shoulders with the keen bronze and carry his body to
give to the dogs of Troy. But Aias came anigh, and the shield that he bare was
as a tower; then Hector gave back into the company of his comrades, and sprang
into his chariot; and the goodly armour he gave to the Trojans to carry to the
city, to be great glory unto him. But Aias spread his broad shield over the son
of Menoitios and stood as it were a lion before his whelps when huntsmen in a
forest encounter him as he leadeth his young. And by his side stood
Atreus&rsquo; son, Menelaos dear to Ares, nursing great sorrow in his breast.
</p>

<p>
Then Hector called on the Trojans with a mighty shout; &ldquo;Trojans and
Lykians and Dardanians that fight hand to hand, be men, my friends, and bethink
you of impetuous valour, until I do on me the goodly arms of noble Achilles
that I stripped from brave Patroklos when I slew him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having spoken went Hector of the glancing helm forth out of the strife of
war, and ran and speedily with fleet feet following overtook his comrades, not
yet far off, who were bearing to the city Peleides&rsquo; glorious arms. And
standing apart from the dolorous battle he changed his armour; his own he gave
the warlike Trojans to carry to sacred Ilios, and he put on the divine arms of
Achilles, Peleus&rsquo; son.
</p>

<p>
But when Zeus that gathereth the clouds beheld from afar off Hector arming him
in the armour of Peleus&rsquo; godlike son, he shook his head and spake thus
unto his soul: &ldquo;Ah, hapless man, no thought is in thy heart of death that
yet draweth nigh unto thee; thou doest on thee the divine armour of a peerless
man before whom the rest have terror. His comrade, gentle and brave, thou hast
slain, and unmeetly hast stripped the armour from his head and shoulders; yet
now for a while at least I will give into thy hands great might, in recompense
for this, even that nowise shalt thou come home out of the battle, for
Andromache to receive from thee Peleides&rsquo; glorious arms.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the son of Kronos, and bowed his dark brows therewithal.
</p>

<p>
But the armour fitted itself unto Hectors body, and Ares the dread war-god
entered into him, and his limbs were filled within with valour and strength.
Then he sped among the noble allies with a mighty cry, and in the flashing of
his armour he seemed to all of them like unto Peleus&rsquo; great-hearted son.
And he came to each and encouraged him with his words—Mesthles and Glaukos and
Medon and Thersilochos and Asteropaios and Deisenor and Hippothoos and Phorkys
and Chromios and the augur Ennomos—these encouraged he and spake to them winged
words: &ldquo;Listen, ye countless tribes of allies that dwell round about. It
was not for mere numbers that I sought or longed when I gathered each of you
from your cities, but that ye might zealously guard the Trojans&rsquo; wives
and infant little ones from the war-loving Achaians. For this end am I wearying
my people by taking gifts and food from them, and nursing thereby the courage
of each of you. Now therefore let all turn straight against the foe and live or
die, for such is the dalliance of war. And whoso shall drag Patroklos, dead
though he be, among the horse-taming men of Troy, and make Aias yield, to him
will I award half the spoils and keep half myself; so shall his glory be great
as mine.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they against the Danaans charged with all their weight,
levelling their spears, and their hearts were high of hope to drag the corpse
from under Aias, Telamol&rsquo;s son. Fond men! from full many reft he life
over that corpse. And then spake Aias to Menelaos of the loud war-cry:
&ldquo;Dear Menelaos, fosterling of Zeus, no longer count I that we two of
ourselves shall return home out of the war. Nor have I so much dread for the
corpse of Patroklos, that shall soon glut the dogs and birds of the men of
Troy, as for thy head and mine lest some evil fall thereon, for all is shrouded
by a storm-cloud of war, even by Hector, and sheer doom stareth in our face.
But come, call thou to the best men of the Danaans, if haply any hear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Menelaos of the loud war-cry disregarded him not, but
shouted unto the Danaans, crying a far-heard cry: &ldquo;O friends, ye leaders
and counsellors of the Argives, who by the side of the sons of Atreus,
Agamemnon and Menelaos, drink at the common cost and are all commanders of the
host, on whom wait glory and honour from Zeus, hard is it for me to distinguish
each chief amid the press—such blaze is there of the strife of war. But let
each go forward of himself and be wroth at heart that Patroklos should become a
sport among the dogs of Troy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Oileus&rsquo; son fleet Aias heard him clearly, and was
first to run along the mellay to meet him, and after him Idomeneus, and
Idomeneus&rsquo; brother-in-arms, Meriones, peer of the man-slaying war-god.
And who shall of his own thought tell the names of the rest, even of all that
after these aroused the battle of the Achaians?
</p>

<p>
Now the Trojans charged forward in close array, and Hector led them. And as
when at the mouth of some heaven-born river a mighty wave roareth against the
stream, and arouseth the high cliffs&rsquo; echo as the salt sea belloweth on
the beach, so loud was the cry wherewith the Trojans came. But the Achaians
stood firm around Menoitios&rsquo; son with one soul all, walled in with
shields of bronze. And over their bright helmets the son of Kronos shed thick
darkness, for in the former time was Menoitios&rsquo; son not unloved of him,
while he was yet alive and squire of Aiakides. So was Zeus loth that he should
become a prey of the dogs of his enemies at Troy, and stirred his comrades to
do battle for him.
</p>

<p>
Now first the Trojans thrust back the glancing-eyed Achaians, who shrank before
them and left the dead, yet the proud Trojans slew not any of them with spears,
though they were fain, but set to hale the corpse. But little while would the
Achaians hold back therefrom, for very swiftly Aias rallied them, Aias the
first in presence and in deeds of all the Danaans after the noble son of
Peleus. Right through the fighters in the forefront rushed he like a wild boar
in his might that in the mountains when he turneth at bay scattereth lightly
dogs and lusty young men through the glades. Thus did proud Telamol&rsquo;s son
the glorious Aias press on the Trojan battalions and lightly scatter them, as
they had bestrode Patroklos and were full fain to drag him to their city and
win renown.
</p>

<p>
Then would the Trojans in their turn in their weakness overcome have been
driven back into Ilios by the Achaians dear to Ares, and the Argives would have
won glory even against the appointment of Zeus by their power and might. But
Apollo himself aroused Aineias, putting on the semblance of Periphas the
herald, the son of Epytos, who grew old with his old father in his heraldship,
of friendly thought toward Aineias. In his similitude spake Apollo, son of
Zeus: &ldquo;Aineias, how could ye ever guard high Ilios if it were against the
will of God? Other men have I seen that trust in their own might and power and
valour, and in their host, even though they have scant folk to lead. But here,
albeit Zeus is fainer far to give victory to us than to the Danaans, yet ye are
dismayed exceedingly and fight not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Aineias knew far-darting Apollo when he looked upon his
face, and spake unto Hector, shouting loud &ldquo;Hector and ye other leaders
of the Trojans and their allies, shame were this if in our weakness overcome we
were driven back into Ilios by the Achaians dear to Ares. Nay, thus saith a
god, who standeth by my side: Zeus, highest Orderer, is our helper in this
fight. Therefore let us go right onward against the Danaans. Not easily at
least let them take the dead Patroklos to the ships.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and leapt forth far before the fighters in the front. And the
Trojans rallied and stood up against the Achaians. Thus strove they as it had
been fire, nor wouldst thou have thought there was still sun or moon, for over
all the battle where the chiefs stood around the slain son of Menoitios they
were shrouded in darkness, while the other Trojans and well-greaved Achaians
fought at ease in the clear air, and piercing sunlight was spread over them,
and on all the earth and hills there was no cloud seen; and they ceased
fighting now sad again, avoiding each other&rsquo;s dolorous darts and standing
far apart. But they who were in the midst endured affliction of the darkness
and the battle, and all the best men of them were wearied by the pitiless
weight of their bronze arms.
</p>

<p>
Thus all day long waxed the mighty fray of their sore strife; and unabatingly
ever with the sweat of toil were the knees and legs and feet of each man and
arms anal eyes bedewed as the two hosts did battle around the brave squire of
fleet Aiakides. And as when a man giveth the hide of a great bull to his folk
to stretch, all soaked in fat, and they take and stretch it standing in a
circle, and straightway the moisture thereof departeth and the fat entereth in
under the haling of many hands, and it is all stretched throughout,—thus they
on both sides haled the dead man this way and that in narrow space, for their
hearts were high of hope, the Trojans that they should drag him to Ilios and
the Achaians to the hollow ships; and around him the fray waxed wild, nor might
Ares rouser of hosts nor Athene despise the sight thereof, albeit their anger
were exceeding great.
</p>

<p>
Such was the grievous travail of men and horses over Patroklos that Zeus on
that day wrought. But not as yet knew noble Achilles aught of Patroklos&rsquo;
death, for far away from the swift ships they were fighting beneath the wall of
the men of Troy. Therefore never deemed he in his heart that he was dead, but
that he should come back alive, after that he had touched the gates; for
neither that other thought had he anywise, that Patroklos should sack the
stronghold without his aid.
</p>

<p>
Now the rest continually around the dead man with their keen spears made onset
relentlessly and slew each the other. And thus would one speak among the
mail-clad Achaians: &ldquo;Friends, it were verily not glorious for us to go
back to the hollow ships; rather let the black earth yawn for us all beneath
our feet. Far better were that straightway for us if we suffer the horse-taming
Trojans to hale this man to their city and win renown.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And thus on the other side would one of the great-hearted Trojans say:
&ldquo;Friends, though it were our fate that all together we be slain beside
this man, let none yet give backward from the fray.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus would one speak, and rouse the spirit of each. So they fought on, and the
iron din went up through the high desert air unto the brazen heaven. But the
horses of Aiakides that were apart from the battle were weeping, since first
they were aware that their charioteer was fallen in the dust beneath the hand
of man-slaying Hector. Verily Automedon, Diores&rsquo; valiant son, plied them
oft with blows of the swift lash, and oft with gentle words he spake to them
and oft with chiding, yet would they neither go back to the ships at the broad
Hellespont nor yet to the battle after the Achaians, but as a pillar abideth
firm that standeth on the tomb of a man or woman dead, so abode they immovably
with the beautiful chariot, abasing their heads unto the earth. And hot tears
flowed from their eyes to the ground as they mourned in sorrow for their
charioteer, and their rich manes were soiled as they drooped from beneath the
yoke-cushion on both sides beside the yoke. And when the son of Kronos beheld
them mourning he had compassion on them, and shook his head and spake to his
own heart: &ldquo;Ah, hapless pair, why gave we you to king Peleus, a mortal
man, while ye are deathless and ever young? Was it that ye should suffer
sorrows among ill-fated men? For methinketh there is nothing more piteous than
a man among all things that breathe and creep upon the earth. But verily Hector
Priam&rsquo;s son shall not drive you and your deftly-wrought car; that will I
not suffer. Is it a small thing that he holdeth the armour and vaunteth himself
vainly thereupon? Nay, I will put courage into your knees and heart that ye may
bring Automedon also safe out of the war to the hollow ships. For yet further
will I increase victory to the men of Troy, so that they slay until they come
unto the well-timbered ships, and the sun set and divine night come
down.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he breathed good courage into the horses. And they shook to earth
the dust from their manes, and lightly bare the swift car amid Trojans and
Achaians. And behind them fought Automedon, albeit in grief for his comrade,
swooping with his chariot as a vulture on wild geese; for lightly he would flee
out of the onset of the Trojans and lightly charge, pursuing them through the
thick mellay. Yet could he not slay any man as he halted to pursue them, for it
was impossible that being alone in his sacred car he should at once assail them
with the spear and hold his fleet horses. Then at last espied him a comrade,
even Alkimedon son of Laerkes, son of Haimon, and he halted behind the car and
spake unto Automedon: &ldquo;Automedon, what god hath put into thy breast
unprofitable counsel and taken from thee wisdom, that thus alone thou art
fighting against the Trojans in the forefront of the press? Thy comrade even
now was slain, and Hector goeth proudly, wearing on his own shoulders the
armour of Aiakides.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And Automedon son of Diores answered him, saying: &ldquo;Alkimedon, what other
Achaian hath like skill to guide the spirit of immortal steeds, save only
Patroklos, peer of gods in counsel, while he yet lived? but now have death and
fate overtaken him. But take thou the lash and shining reins, and I will get me
down from my horses, that I may fight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Alkimedon leapt on the fleet war-chariot and swiftly took
the lash and reins in his hands, and Automedon leapt down. And noble Hector
espied them, and straightway spake unto Aineias as he stood near:
&ldquo;Aineias, counsellor of mail-clad Trojans, I espy here the two horses of
fleet Aiakides come forth to battle with feeble charioteers. Therefore might I
hope to take them if thou in thy heart art willing, since they would not abide
our onset and stand to do battle against us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the brave son of Anchises disregarded him not. And they
twain went right onward, their shoulders shielded by ox-hides dried and tough,
and bronze thick overlaid. And with them went both Chromios and godlike Aretos,
and their hearts were of high hope to slay the men and drive off the
strong-necked horses—fond hope, for not without blood lost were they to get
them back from Automedon. He praying to father Zeus was filled in his inmost
heart with valour and strength. And straightway he spake to Alkimedon, his
faithful comrade: &ldquo;Alkimedon, hold the horses not far from me, but with
their very breath upon my back; for I deem that Hector the son of Priam will
not refrain him from his fury until he mount behind Achilles&rsquo; horses of
goodly manes after slaying us twain, and dismay the ranks of Argive men, or
else himself fall among the foremost.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said he, and called upon the Aiantes and Menelaos: &ldquo;Aiantes, leaders
of the Argives, and Menelaos, lo now, commit ye the corpse unto whoso may best
avail to bestride it and resist the ranks of men, and come ye to ward the day
of doom from us who are yet alive, for here in the dolorous war are Hector and
Aineias, the best men of the Trojans, pressing hard. Yet verily these issues
lie in the lap of the gods: I too will cast my spear, and the rest shall Zeus
decide.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and poised his far-shadowing spear and hurled it, and smote on the
circle of the shield of Aretos, and the shield sustained not the spear, but
right through went the bronze, and he forced it into his belly low down through
his belt. And as when a strong man with a sharp axe smiting behind the horns of
an ox of the homestead cleaveth the sinew asunder, and the ox leapeth forward
and falleth, so leapt Aretos forward and fell on his back; and the spear in his
entrails very piercingly quivering unstrung his limbs. And Hector hurled at
Automedon with his bright spear, but he looked steadfastly on the bronze
javelin as it came at him and avoided it, for he stooped forward, and the long
spear fixed itself in the ground behind, and the javelin-butt quivered, and
there dread Ares took away its force. And then had they lashed at each other
with their swords hand to hand, had not the Aiantes parted them in their fury,
when they were come through the mellay at their comrades&rsquo; call. Before
them Hector and Aineias and godlike Chromios shrank backward and gave ground
and left Aretos wounded to the death as he lay. And Automedon, peer of swift
Ares, stripped off the armour of the dead, and spake exultingly: &ldquo;Verily,
I have a little eased my heart of grief for the death of Menoitios&rsquo; son,
albeit a worse man than him have I slain.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he took up the gory spoils and set them in his car, and gat him
thereon, with feet and hands all bloody, as a lion that hath devoured a bull.
</p>

<p>
Now great-hearted Aias and Menelaos were aware of Zeus how he gave the Trojans
their turn to victory. First of these to speak was great Aias son of Telamon:
&ldquo;Ay me, now may any man, even though he be a very fool, know that father
Zeus himself is helping the Trojans. Come, let us ourselves devise some
excellent means, that we may both hale the corpse away and ourselves return
home to the joy of our friends, who grieve as they look hitherward and deem
that no longer shall the fury of man-slaying Hector&rsquo;s unapproachable hand
refrain itself, but fall upon the black ships. And would there were some
comrade to carry tidings with all speed unto the son of Peleus, since I deem
that he hath not even heard the grievous tidings, how his dear comrade is
slain. But nowhere can I behold such an one among the Achaians, for themselves
and their horses likewise are wrapped in darkness. O father Zeus, deliver thou
the sons of the Achaians from the darkness, and make clear sky and vouchsafe
sight unto our eyes. In the light be it that thou slayest us, since it is thy
good pleasure that we die.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then fair-haired Menelaos departed glancing everywhither, as an eagle which men
say hath keenest sight of all birds under heaven, and though he be far aloft
the fleet-footed hare eludeth him not by crouching beneath a leafy bush, but
the eagle swoopeth thereon and swiftly seizeth her and taketh her life. Thus in
that hour, Menelaos fosterling of Zeus, ranged thy shining eyes everywhither
through the multitude of the host of thy comrades, if haply they might behold
Nestor&rsquo;s son yet alive. Him quickly he perceived at the left of the whole
battle, heartening his comrades and rousing them to fight. And fair-haired
Menelaos came and stood nigh and said unto him: &ldquo;Antilochos, fosterling
of Zeus, come hither that thou mayest learn woful tidings—would it had never
been. Ere now, I ween, thou too hast known by thy beholding that God rolleth
mischief upon the Danaans, and with the Trojans is victory. And slain is the
best man of the Achaians, Patroklos, and great sorrow is wrought for the
Danaans. But run thou to the ships of the Achaians and quickly tell this to
Achilles, if haply he may straightway rescue to his ship the naked corpse: but
his armour is held by Hector of the glancing helmet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Antilochos had horror of the word he heard. And long time
speechlessness possessed him, and his eyes were filled with tears, and his full
voice choked. Yet for all this disregarded he not the bidding of Menelaos, but
set him to run, when he had given his armour to a noble comrade, Laodokos, who
close anigh him was wheeling his whole-hooved horses.
</p>

<p>
So him his feet bare out of the battle weeping, to Achilles son of Peleus
carrying an evil tale. But thy heart, Menelaos fosterling of Zeus, chose not to
stay to aid the wearied comrades from whom Antilochos departed, and great
sorrow was among the Pylians. But to them Menelaos sent noble Thrasymedes, and
himself went again to bestride the hero Patroklos. And he hasted and stood
beside the Aiantes and straightway spake to them: &ldquo;So have I sent that
man to the swift ships to go to fleet-footed Achilles. Yet deem I not that he
will now come, for all his wrath against noble Hector, for he could not fight
unarmed against the men of Troy. But let us ourselves devise some excellent
means, both how we may hale the dead away, and how we ourselves may escape
death and fate amid the Trojans&rsquo; battle-cry.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered him great Aias Telamol&rsquo;s son, saying: &ldquo;All this hast
thou said well, most noble Menelaos. But do thou and Meriones put your
shoulders beneath the dead and lift him and bear him swiftly out of the fray,
while we twain behind you shall do battle with the Trojans and noble Hector,
one in heart as we are in name, for from of old time we are wont to await
fierce battle side by side.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the others took the dead man in their arms and lifted him
mightily on high. But the Trojan host behind cried aloud when they saw the
Achaians lifting the corpse, and charged like hounds that spring in front of
hunter-youths upon a wounded wild boar, and for a while run in haste to rend
him, but when he wheeleth round among them, trusting in his might, then they
give ground and shrink back here and there. Thus for a while the Trojans
pressed on with all their power, striking with swords and double-headed spears,
but when the Aiantes turned about and halted over against them, then they
changed colour, and none dared farther onset to do battle around the dead.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap18"></a>BOOK XVIII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles grieved for Patroklos, and how Thetis asked for him new armour of
Hephaistos; and of the making of the armour.
</p>

<p>
Thus fought the rest in the likeness of blazing fire, while to Achilles came
Antilochos, a messenger fleet of foot. Him found he in front of his ships of
upright horns, boding in his soul the things which even now were accomplished.
And sore troubled he spake to his great heart: &ldquo;Ay me, wherefore again
are the flowing-haired Achaians flocking to the ships and flying in rout over
the plain? May the gods not have wrought against me the grievous fears at my
heart, even as my mother revealed and told me that while I am yet alive the
best man of the Myrmidons must by deed of the men of Troy forsake the light of
the sun. Surely now must Menoitios&rsquo; valiant son be dead—foolhardy! surely
I bade him when he should have beaten off the fire of the foe to come back to
the ships nor with Hector fight amain.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
While thus he held debate in his heart and soul, there drew nigh unto him noble
Nestor&rsquo;s son, shedding hot tears, and spake his grievous tidings:
&ldquo;Ay me, wise Peleus&rsquo; son, very bitter tidings must thou hear, such
as I would had never been. Fallen is Patroklos, and they are fighting around
his body, naked, for his armour is held by Hector of the glancing helm.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and a black cloud of grief enwrapped Achilles, and with both
hands he took dark dust and poured it over his head and defiled his comely
face, and on his fragrant doublet black ashes fell. And himself in the dust lay
mighty and mightily fallen, and with his own hands tore and marred his hair.
And the handmaidens, whom Achilles and Patroklos took captive, cried aloud in
the grief of their hearts, and ran forth around valiant Achilles, and all beat
on their breasts with their hands, and the knees of each of them were unstrung.
And Antilochos on the other side wailed and shed tears, holding Achilles&rsquo;
hands while he groaned in his noble heart, for he feared lest he should cleave
his throat with the sword. Then terribly moaned Achilles; and his lady mother
heard him as she sate in the depths of the sea beside her ancient sire. And
thereon she uttered a cry, and the goddesses flocked around her, all the
daughters of Nereus that were in the deep of the sea. With these the bright
cave was filled, and they all beat together on their breasts, and Thetis led
the lament: &ldquo;Listen, sister Nereids, that ye all hear and know well what
sorrows are in my heart. Ay me unhappy, ay me that bare to my sorrow the first
of men! For after I had borne a son noble and strong, the chief of heroes, and
he shot up like a young branch, then when I had reared him as a plant in a very
fruitful field I sent him in beaked ships to Ilios to fight against the men of
Troy; but never again shall I welcome him back to his home, to the house of
Peleus. And while he yet liveth in my sight and beholdeth the light of the sun,
he sorroweth, neither can I help him any whit though I go unto him. But I will
go, that I may look upon my dear child, and learn what sorrow hath come to him
though he abide aloof from the war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she and left the cave; and the nymphs went with her weeping, and
around them the surge of the sea was sundered. And when they came to
deep-soiled Troy-land they went up upon the shore in order, where the ships of
the Myrmidons were drawn up thickly around fleet Achilles. And as he groaned
heavily his lady mother stood beside him, and with a shrill cry clasped the
bead of her child, and spake unto him winged words of lamentation: &ldquo;My
child, why weepest thou? what sorrow hath come to thy heart? Tell it forth,
hide it not. One thing at least hath been accomplished of Zeus according to the
prayer thou madest, holding up to him thy hands, that the sons of the Achaians
should all be pent in at the ships, through lack of thee, and should suffer
hateful things.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then groaning heavily spake unto her Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;My mother,
that prayer truly hath the Olympian accomplished for me. But what delight have
I therein, since my dear comrade is dead, Patroklos, whom I honoured above all
my comrades as it were my very self! Him have I lost, and Hector that slew him
hath stripped from him the armour great and fair, a wonder to behold, that the
gods gave to Peleus a splendid gift, on the day when they laid thee in the bed
of a mortal man. Would thou hadst abode among the deathless daughters of the
sea, and Peleus had wedded a mortal bride! But now, that thou mayest have
sorrow a thousand fold in thy heart for a dead son, never shalt thou welcome
him back home, since my soul biddeth me also live no longer nor abide among
men, if Hector be not first smitten by my spear and yield his life, and pay for
his slaughter of Patroklos, Menoitios&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Thetis shedding tears: &ldquo;Short-lived, I ween, must
thou be then, my child, by what thou sayest, for straightway after Hector is
death appointed unto thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then mightily moved spake unto her Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Straightway
may I die, since I might not succour my comrade at his slaying. He hath fallen
afar from his country and lacked my help in his sore need. Now therefore, since
I go not back to my dear native land, neither have at all been succour to
Patroklos nor to all my other comrades that have been slain by noble Hector,
but I sit beside my ships a profitless burden of the earth, I that in war am
such an one as is none else of the mail-clad Achaians, though in council are
others better—may strife perish utterly among gods and men, and wrath that
stirreth even a wise man to be vexed, wrath that far sweeter than trickling
honey waxeth like smoke in the breasts of men, even as I was wroth even now
against Agamemnon king of men. But bygones will we let be, for all our pain,
curbing the heart in our breasts under necessity. Now go I forth, that I may
light on the destroyer of him I loved, on Hector: then will I accept my death
whensoever Zeus willeth to accomplish it and the other immortal gods. For not
even the mighty Herakles escaped death, albeit most dear to Kronian Zeus the
king, but Fate overcame him and Hera&rsquo;s cruel wrath. So also shall I, if
my fate hath been fashioned likewise, lie low when I am dead. But now let me
win high renown, let me set some Trojan woman, some deep-bosomed daughter of
Dardanos, staunching with both hands the tears upon her tender cheeks and
wailing bitterly; yea, let them know that I am come back, though I tarried long
from the war. Hold not me then from the battle in thy love, for thou shalt not
prevail with me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Thetis the silver-footed goddess answered him, saying: &ldquo;Yea verily,
my child, no blame is in this, that thou ward sheer destruction from thy
comrades in their distress. But thy fair glittering armour of bronze is held
among the Trojans. Hector of the glancing helm beareth it on his shoulders in
triumph, yet not for long, I ween, shall he glory therein, for death is hard
anigh him. But thou, go not yet down into the mellay of war until thou see me
with thine eyes come hither. In the morning will I return, at the coming up of
the sun, bearing fair armour from the king Hephaistos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she and turned to go from her son, and as she turned she spake among
her sisters of the sea: &ldquo;Ye now go down within the wide bosom of the
deep, to visit the Ancient One of the Sea and our father&rsquo;s house, and
tell him all. I am going to high Olympus to Hephaistos of noble skill, if haply
he will give unto my son noble armour shining gloriously.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, and they forthwith went down beneath the surge of the sea. And
the silver-footed goddess Thetis went on to Olympus that she might bring noble
armour to her son.
</p>

<p>
So her unto Olympus her feet bore. But the Achaians with terrible cries were
fleeing before man-slaying Hector till they came to the ships and to the
Hellespont. Nor might the well-greaved Achaians drag the corpse of Patroklos
Achilles&rsquo; squire out of the darts, for now again overtook him the host
and the horses of Troy, and Hector son of Priam, in might as it were a flame of
fire. Thrice did glorious Hector seize him from behind by the feet, resolved to
drag him away, and mightily called upon the men of Troy. Thrice did the two
Aiantes, clothed on with impetuous might, beat him off from the dead man, but
he nathless, trusting in his might, anon would charge into the press, anon
would stand and cry aloud, but he gave ground never a whit. As when shepherds
in the field avail nowise to chase a fiery lion in fierce hunger away from a
carcase, so availed not the two warrior Aiantes to scare Hector son of Priam
from the dead. And now would he have won the body and gained renown
unspeakable, had not fleet wind-footed Iris come speeding from Olympus with a
message to the son of Peleus to array him, unknown of Zeus and the other gods,
for Hera sent her. And she stood anigh and spake to him winged words:
&ldquo;Rouse thee, son of Peleus, of all men most redoubtable! Succour
Patroklos, for whose body is terrible battle afoot before the ships. There slay
they one another, these guarding the dead corpse, while the men of Troy are
fierce to hale him unto windy Ilios, and chiefliest noble Hector is fain to
drag him, and his heart biddeth him fix the head on the stakes of the wall when
he hath sundered it from the tender neck. But arise, lie thus no longer! let
awe enter thy heart to forbid that Patroklos become the sport of dogs of Troy.
Thine were the shame if he go down mangled amid the dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered her fleet-footed noble Achilles: &ldquo;Goddess Iris, what god
sent thee a messenger unto me?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake wind-footed fleet Iris: &ldquo;It was Hera that sent me,
the wise wife of Zeus, nor knoweth the high-throned son of Kronos nor any other
of the Immortals that on snowy Olympus have their dwelling-place.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And Achilles fleet of foot made answer to her and said: &ldquo;And how may I go
into the fray? The Trojans hold my arms; and my dear mother bade me forbear to
array me until I behold her with my eyes returned, for she promised to bring
fair armour from Hephaistos. Other man know I none whose noble armour I might
put on, save it were the shield of Aias Telamol&rsquo;s son. But himself, I
ween, is in the forefront of the press, dealing death with his spear around
Patroklos dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then again spake unto him wind-footed fleet Iris: &ldquo;Well are we also aware
that thy noble armour is held from thee. But go forth unto the trench as thou
art and show thyself to the men of Troy, if haply they will shrink back and
refrain them from battle, and the warlike sons of the Achaians take
breath.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake fleet-footed Iris and went her way. But Achilles dear to Zeus arose,
and around his strong shoulders Athene cast her tasselled aegis, and around his
head the bright goddess set a crown of a golden cloud, and kindled therefrom a
blazing flame. And as when a smoke issueth from a city and riseth up into the
upper air, from an island afar off that foes beleaguer, while the others from
their city fight all day in hateful war,—but with the going down of the sun
blaze out the beacon-fires in line, and high aloft rusheth up the glare for
dwellers round about to behold, if haply they may come with ships to help in
need—thus from the head of Achilles soared that blaze toward the heavens. And
he went and stood beyond the wall beside the trench, yet mingled not among the
Achaians, for he minded the wise bidding of his mother. There stood he and
shouted aloud, and afar off Pallas Athene uttered her voice, and spread terror
unspeakable among the men of Troy. Clear as the voice of a clarion when it
soundeth by reason of slaughterous foemen that beleaguer a city, so clear rang
forth the voice of Aiakides. And when they heard the brazen voice of Aiakides,
the souls of all of them were dismayed, and the horses of goodly manes were
fain to turn the chariots backward, for they boded anguish in their hearts, And
the charioteers were amazed when they saw the unwearying fire blaze fierce on
the head of the great-hearted son of Peleus, for the bright-eyed goddess Athene
made it blaze. Thrice from over the trench shouted mightily noble Achilles, and
thrice were the men of Troy confounded and their proud allies. Yea there and
then perished twelve men of their best by their own chariot wheels and spears.
But the Achaians with joy drew Patroklos forth of the darts and laid him on a
litter, and his dear comrades stood around lamenting him; and among them
followed fleet-footed Achilles, shedding hot tears, for his true comrade he saw
lying on the bier, mangled by the keen bronze. Him sent he forth with chariot
and horses unto the battle, but home again welcomed never more.
</p>

<p>
Then Hera the ox-eyed queen sent down the unwearying Sun to be gone unwillingly
unto the streams of Ocean. So the Sun set, and the noble Achaians made pause
from the stress of battle and the hazardous war.
</p>

<p>
But the Achaians all night made moan in lamentation for Patroklos. And first of
them in the loud lamentation was the son of Peleus, laying upon the breast of
his comrade his man-slaying hands and moaning very sore, even as a deep-bearded
lion whose whelps some stag-hunter hath snatched away out of a deep wood; and
the lion coming afterward grieveth and through many glens he rangeth on the
track of the footsteps of the man, if anywhere he might find him, for most
bitter anger seizeth him;—thus Achilles moaning heavily spake among the
Myrmidons: &ldquo;Ay me, vain verily was the word I uttered on that day when I
cheered the hero Menoitios in his halls and said that I would bring back to
Opoeis his son in glory from the sack of Ilios with the share of spoil that
should fall unto him. Not all the purposes of men doth Zeus accomplish for
them. It is appointed that both of us redden the same earth with our blood here
in Troy-land, for neither shall the old knight Peleus welcome me back home
within his halls, nor my mother Thetis, but even here shall earth keep hold on
me. Yet now, O Patroklos, since I follow thee under earth, I will not hold thy
funeral till I have brought hither the armour and the head of Hector, thy
high-hearted slayer, and before thy pyre I will cut the throats of twelve noble
sons of the men of Troy, for mine anger thou art slain. Till then beside the
beaked ships shalt thou lie as thou art, and around thee deep-bosomed women,
Trojan and Dardanian, shall mourn thee weeping night and day, even they whom we
toiled to win by our strength and, our long spears when we sacked rich cities
of mortal men.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake noble Achilles, and bade his comrades set a great tripod on the
fire, that with all speed they might wash from Patroklos the bloody gore. So
they set a tripod of ablution on the burning fire, and poured therein water and
took wood and kindled it beneath; and the fire wrapped the belly of the tripod,
and the water grew hot. And when the water boiled in the bright bronze, then
washed they him and anointed with olive oil, and filled his wounds with fresh
ointment, and laid him on a bier and covered him with soft cloth from head to
foot, and thereover a white robe. Then all night around Achilles fleet of foot
the Myrmidons made lament and moan for Patroklos.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile Zeus spake unto Hera his sister and wife: &ldquo;Thou hast
accomplished this, O Hera, ox-eyed queen, thou hast aroused Achilles fleet of
foot. Verily of thine own children must the flowing-haired Achaians be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Hera the ox-eyed queen: &ldquo;Most dread son of Kronos,
what is this word thou hast said? Truly even a man, I ween, is to accomplish
what he may for another man, albeit he is mortal and hath not wisdom as we. How
then was I who avow me the first of goddesses both by birth and for that I am
called thy wife, and thou art king among all Immortals—how was I not in mine
anger to devise evil against the men of Troy?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So debated they on this wise with one another. But Thetis of the silver feet
came unto the house of Hephaistos, imperishable, starlike, far seen among the
dwellings of Immortals, a house of bronze, wrought by the crook-footed god
himself. Him found she sweating in toil and busy about his bellows, for he was
forging tripods twenty in all to stand around the wall of his stablished hall,
and beneath the base of each he had set golden wheels, that of their own motion
they might enter the assembly of the gods and again return unto his house, a
marvel to look upon. Thus much were they finished that not yet were away from
the fire, and gathered all his gear wherewith he worked into a silver chest;
and with a sponge he wiped his face and hands and sturdy neck and shaggy
breast, and did on his doublet, and took a stout staff and went forth limping;
but there were handmaidens of gold that moved to help their lord, the
semblances of living maids. In them is understanding at their hearts, in them
are voice and strength, and they have skill of the immortal gods. These moved
beneath their lord, and he gat him haltingly near to where Thetis was, and set
him on a bright seat, and clasped her hand in his and spake and called her by
her name: &ldquo;Wherefore, long-robed Thetis, comest thou to our house,
honoured that thou art and dear? No frequent comer art thou hitherto. Speak
what thou hast at heart; my soul is fain to accomplish it; if accomplish it I
can, and if it be appointed for accomplishment.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Thetis shedding tears: &ldquo;Hephaistos, hath there
verily been any of all goddesses in Olympus that hath endured so many grievous
sorrows at heart as are the woes that Kronian Zeus hath laid upon me above all
others? He chose me from among the sisters of the sea to enthrall me to a man,
even Peleus Aiakos&rsquo; son, and with a man I endured wedlock sore against my
will. Now lieth he in his halls forspent with grievous age, but other griefs
are mine. A son he gave me to bear and nourish, the chief of heroes, and he
shot up like a young branch. Like a plant in a very fruitful field I reared him
and sent him forth on beaked ships to Ilios to fight against the men of Troy,
but never again shall I welcome him back to his home within the house of
Peleus. And while he yet liveth in my sight and beholdeth the light of the sun,
he sorroweth, neither can I help him any whit though I go unto him. The maiden
whom the sons of the Achaians chose out to be his prize, her hath the lord
Agamemnon taken back out of his hands. In grief for her wasted he his heart,
while the men of Troy were driving the Achaians on their ships, nor suffered
them to come forth. And the elders of the Argives entreated him, and told over
many noble gifts. Then albeit himself he refused to ward destruction from them,
he put his armour on Patroklos and sent him to the war, and much people with
him. All day they fought around the Skaian gates and that same day had sacked
the town, but that when now Menoitios&rsquo; valiant son had wrought much harm,
Apollo slew him in the forefront of the battle, and gave glory unto Hector.
Therefore now come I a suppliant unto thy knees, if haply thou be willing to
give my short-lived son shield and helmet, and goodly greaves fitted with
ankle-pieces, and cuirass. For the armour that he had erst, his trusty comrade
lost when he fell beneath the men of Troy; and my son lieth on the earth with
anguish in his soul.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then made answer unto her the lame god of great renown: &ldquo;Be of good
courage, let not these things trouble thy heart. Would that so might I avail to
hide him far from dolorous death, when dread fate cometh upon him, as surely
shall goodly armour be at his need, such as all men afterward shall marvel at,
whatsoever may behold.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he left her there and went unto his bellows and turned them upon
the fire and bade them work. And the bellows, twenty in all, blew on the
crucibles, sending deft blasts on every side, now to aid his labour and now
anon howsoever Hephaistos willed and the work went on. And he threw bronze that
weareth not into the fire, and tin and precious gold and silver, and next he
set on an anvil-stand a great anvil, and took in his hand a sturdy hammer, and
in the other he took the tongs.
</p>

<p>
First fashioned he a shield great and strong, adorning it all over, and set
thereto a shining rim, triple, bright-glancing, and therefrom a silver baldric.
Five were the folds of the shield itself; and therein fashioned he much cunning
work from his wise heart.
</p>

<p>
There wrought he the earth, and the heavens, and the sea, and the unwearying
sun, and the moon waxing to the full, and the signs every one wherewith the
heavens are crowned, Pleiads and Hyads and Oriol&rsquo;s might, and the Bear
that men call also the Wain, her that turneth in her place and watcheth Orion,
and alone hath no part in the baths of Ocean.
</p>

<p>
Also he fashioned therein two fair cities of mortal men. In the one were
espousals and marriage feasts, and beneath the blaze of torches they were
leading the brides from their chambers through the city, and loud arose the
bridal song. And young men were whirling in the dance, and among them flutes
and viols sounded high; and women standing each at her door were marvelling.
But the folk were gathered in the assembly place; for there a strife was
arisen, two men striving about the blood-price of a man slain; the one claimed
to pay full atonement, expounding to the people, but the other denied him and
would take naught. And the folk were cheering both, as they took part on either
side. And heralds kept order among the folk, while the elders on polished
stones were sitting in the sacred circle, and holding in their hands staves
from the loud-voiced heralds. Then before the people they rose up and gave
judgment each in turn. And in the midst lay two talents of gold, to be given
unto him who should plead among them most righteously.
</p>

<p>
But around the other city were two armies in siege with glittering arms. And
two counsels found favour among them, either to sack the town or to share all
with the townsfolk even whatsoever substance the fair city held within. But the
besieged were not yet yielding, but arming for an ambushment. On the wall there
stood to guard it their dear wives and infant children, and with these the old
men; but the rest went forth, and their leaders were Ares and Pallas Athene,
both wrought in gold, and golden was the vesture they had on. Goodly and great
were they in their armour, even as gods, far seen around, and the folk at their
feet were smaller. And when they came where it seemed good to them to lay
ambush, in a river bed where there was a common watering-place of herds, there
they set them, clad in glittering bronze. And two scouts were posted by them
afar off to spy the coming of flocks and of oxen with crooked horns. And
presently came the cattle, and with them two herdsmen playing on pipes, that
took no thought of the guile. Then the others when they beheld these ran upon
them and quickly cut off the herds of oxen and fair flocks of white sheep, and
slew the shepherds withal. But the besiegers, as they sat before the
speech-places [from which the orators spoke] and heard much din among the oxen,
mounted forthwith behind their high-stepping horses, and came up with speed.
Then they arrayed their battle and fought beside the river banks, and smote one
another with bronze-shod spears. And among them mingled Strife and Tumult, and
fell Death, grasping one man alive fresh-wounded, another without wound, and
dragging another dead through the mellay by the feet; and the raiment on her
shoulders was red with the blood of men. Like living mortals they hurled
together and fought, and haled the corpses each of the other&rsquo;s slain.
</p>

<p>
Furthermore he set in the shield a soft fresh-ploughed field, rich tilth and
wide, the third time ploughed; and many ploughers therein drave their yokes to
and fro as they wheeled about. Whensoever they came to the boundary of the
field and turned, then would a man come to each and give into his hands a
goblet of sweet wine, while others would be turning back along the furrows,
fain to reach the boundary of the deep tilth. And the field grew black behind
and seemed as it were a-ploughing, albeit of gold, for this was the great
marvel of the work.
</p>

<p>
Furthermore he set therein the demesne-land of a king, where hinds were reaping
with sharp sickles in their hands. Some armfuls along the swathe were falling
in rows to the earth, whilst others the sheaf-binders were binding in twisted
bands of straw. Three sheaf-binders stood over them, while behind boys
gathering corn and bearing it in their arms gave it constantly to the binders;
and among them the king in silence was standing at the swathe with his staff,
rejoicing in his heart. And henchmen apart beneath an oak were making ready a
feast, and preparing a great ox they had sacrificed; while the women were
strewing much white barley to be a supper for the hinds.
</p>

<p>
Also he set therein a vineyard teeming plenteously with clusters, wrought fair
in gold; black were the grapes, but the vines hung throughout on silver poles.
And around it he ran a ditch of cyanus, and round that a fence of tin; and one
single pathway led to it, whereby the vintagers might go when they should
gather the vintage. And maidens and striplings in childish glee bare the sweet
fruit in plaited baskets. And in the midst of them a boy made pleasant music on
a clear-toned viol, and sang thereto a sweet Linos-song [probably a lament for
departing summer] with delicate voice; while the rest with feet falling
together kept time with the music and song.
</p>

<p>
Also he wrought therein a herd of kine with upright horns, and the kine were
fashioned of gold and tin, and with lowing they hurried from the byre to
pasture beside a murmuring river, beside the waving reed. And herdsmen of gold
were following with the kine, four of them, and nine dogs fleet of foot came
after them. But two terrible lions among the foremost kine had seized a
loud-roaring bull that bellowed mightily as they haled him, and the dogs and
the young men sped after him. The lions rending the great bull&rsquo;s hide
were devouring his vitals and his black blood; while the herdsmen in vain
tarred on their fleet dogs to set on, for they shrank from biting the lions but
stood hard by and barked and swerved away.
</p>

<p>
Also the glorious lame god wrought therein a pasture in a fair glen, a great
pasture of white sheep, and a steading, and roofed huts, and folds.
</p>

<p>
Also did the glorious lame god devise a dancing-place like unto that which once
in wide Knosos Daidalos wrought for Ariadne of the lovely tresses. There were
youths dancing and maidens of costly wooing, their hands upon one
another&rsquo;s wrists. Fine linen the maidens had on, and the youths
well-woven doublets faintly glistening with oil. Fair wreaths had the maidens,
and the youths daggers of gold hanging from silver baldrics. And now would they
run round with deft feet exceeding lightly, as when a potter sitting by his
wheel that fitteth between his hands maketh trial of it whether it run: and now
anon they would run in lines to meet each other. And a great company stood
round the lovely dance in joy; and through the midst of them, leading the
measure, two tumblers whirled.
</p>

<p>
Also he set therein the great might of the River of Ocean around the uttermost
rim of the cunningly-fashioned shield.
</p>

<p>
Now when he had wrought the shield great and strong, then wrought he him a
corslet brighter than a flame of fire, and he wrought him a massive helmet to
fit his brows, goodly and graven, and set thereon a crest of gold, and he
wrought him greaves of pliant tin.
</p>

<p>
So when the renowned lame god had finished all the armour, he took and laid it
before the mother of Achilles. Then she like a falcon sprang down from snowy
Olympus, bearing from Hephaistos the glittering arms.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap19"></a>BOOK XIX.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles and Agamemnon were reconciled before the assembly of the Achaians,
and Achilles went forth with them to battle.
</p>

<p>
Now Morning saffron-robed arose from the streams of Ocean to bring light to
gods and men, and Thetis came to the ships, bearing his gift from the god. Her
dear son she found fallen about Patroklos and uttering loud lament; and round
him many of his company made moan. And the bright goddess stood beside him in
their midst, and clasped her hand in his and spake and called upon his name:
&ldquo;My child, him who lieth here we must let be, for all our pain, for by
the will of gods from the beginning was he brought low. But thou take from
Hephaistos arms of pride, arms passing goodly, such as no man on his shoulders
yet hath borne.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the goddess and in front of Aehifies laid the arms, and they rang
all again in their glory. And awe fell on all the Myrmidons, nor dared any to
gaze thereon, for they were awe-stricken. But when Achilles looked thereon,
then came fury upon him the more, and his eyes blazed terribly forth as it were
a flame beneath their lids: glad was he as he held in his hands that splendid
gift of a god. But when he had satisfied his soul in gazing on the glory of the
arms, straightway to his mother spake he winged words: &ldquo;My mother, the
arms the god has given are such as it beseemeth that the work of Immortals
should be, and that no mortal man should have wrought. Now therefore will I arm
me in them, but I have grievous fear lest meantime on the gashed wounds of
Menoitios&rsquo; valiant son flies light and breed worms therein, and defile
his corpse—for the life is slain out of him—and so all his flesh shall
rot.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered him Thetis, goddess of the silver feet: &ldquo;Child, have no
care for this within thy mind. I will see to ward from him the cruel tribes of
flies which prey on men slain in fight: for even though he lie till a whole
year&rsquo;s course be run, yet his flesh shall be sound continually, or better
even than now. But call thou the Achaian warriors to the place of assembly, and
unsay thy wrath against Agamemnon shepherd of the host, and then arm swiftly
for battle, and clothe thee with thy strength.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying she filled him with adventurous might, while on Patroklos she shed
ambrosia and red nectar through his nostrils, that his flesh might abide the
same continually.
</p>

<p>
But noble Achilles went down the beach of the sea, crying his terrible cry, and
roused the Achaian warriors. And they who before were wont to abide in the
circle of the ships, and they who were helmsmen and kept the steerage of the
ships, or were stewards there and dealt out food, even these came then to the
place of assembly, because Achilles was come forth, after long ceasing from
grievous war. Limping came two of Ares&rsquo; company, Tydeus&rsquo; son
staunch in fight and noble Odysseus, each leaning on his spear, for their
wounds were grievous still; and they went and sate them down in the forefront
of the assembly. And last came Agamemnon king of men, with his wound upon him,
for him too in the stress of battle Kooen Antenor&rsquo;s son had wounded with
his bronze-tipped spear. But when all the Achaians were gathered, then uprose
fleet-footed Achilles and spake in their midst: &ldquo;Son of Atreus, was this
in any wise the better way for both thee and me, what time with grief at our
hearts we waxed fierce in soul-devouring strife for the sake of a girl? Would
that Artemis had slain her with her arrow at the ships, on the day whereon I
took her to me, when I had spoiled Lyrnessos; so should not then so many
Achaians have bitten the wide earth beneath their enemies&rsquo; hands, by
reason of my exceeding wrath. It hath been well for Hector and the Trojans, but
the Achaians I think shall long remember the strife that was betwixt thee and
me. But bygones will we let be, for all our pain, and curb under necessity the
spirit within our breasts. I now will stay my anger: it beseems me not
implacably for ever to be wroth; but come rouse speedily to the fight the
flowing-haired Achaians, that I may go forth against the men of Troy and put
them yet again to the proof, if they be fain to couch hard by the ships.
Methinks that some among them shall be glad to rest their knees when they are
fled out of the fierceness of the battle, and from before our spear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spake, and the well-greaved Achaians rejoiced that the great-hearted son of
Peleus had made renouncement of his wrath. Then among them spake Agamemnon king
of men, speaking from the place where he sat, not arisen to stand forth in
their midst: &ldquo;O Danaan friends and heroes, men of Ares&rsquo; company,
seemly is it to listen to him who standeth up to speak, nor behoveth it to
break in upon his words: even toward a skilled man that were hard. For amid the
uproar of many men how should one listen, or yet speak? even the
clearest-voiced speech is marred. To the son of Peleus I will declare myself,
but ye other Argives give heed, and each mark well my word. Oft have the
Achaians spoken thus to me, and upbraided me; but it is not I who am the cause,
but Zeus and Destiny and Erinys that walketh in the darkness, who put into my
soul fierce madness on the day when in the assembly I, even I, bereft Achilles
of his meed. What could I do? it is God who accomplisheth all. Eldest daughter
of Zeus is Ate who blindeth all, a power of bane: delicate are her feet, for
not upon the earth she goeth, but walketh over the heads of men, making men
fall; and entangleth this one or that. Ye even Zeus was blinded upon a time, he
who they say is greatest among gods and men; yet even him Hera with a female
wile deceived, on the day when Alkmene in fair-crowned Thebes was to bring
forth the strength of Herakles. For then proclaimed he solemnly among the gods:
&lsquo;Here me ye all, both gods and goddesses, while I utter the council of my
soul within my heart. This day shall Eileithuia, the help of travailing women,
bring to the light a man who shall be lord over all that dwell round about,
among the raise of men who are sprung of me by blood.&rsquo; And to him in
subtlety queen Hera spake: &lsquo;Though wilt play the cheat and not accomplish
thy word. Come now, Olympian, swear me a firm oath that verily and indeed shall
that man be lord over all that dwell round about, who this day shall fall
between a womal&rsquo;s feet, even he among all men who are of the lineage of
thy blood.&rsquo; So spake she, and Zeus no wise perceived her subtlety but
sware a mighty oath, and therewith was he sore blinded. For Hera darted from
Olympus&rsquo; peak and came swiftly to Achaian Argus, were she knew was the
stately wife of Sthenelos son of Perseus, who was also great with child, and
her seventh month had come. Her son Hera brought to the light, though his tale
of months was untold, but she stayed Alkmene&rsquo;s bearing and kept the
Eileithuiai from her aid. Then she brought the tidings herself and to
Kronos&rsquo; son Zeus she spake: &lsquo;Father Zeus of the bright lightning, a
word will I speak to thee for my heed. Today is born a man of valor who shall
rule among the Archives, Eurystheus, son of Sthenelos the son of Perseus, of
thy lineage; not unmeet is it that he be lord among Argives.&rsquo; She said,
but sharp pain smote him in the depths of his soul, and straightway he seized
Ate by her bright-haired head in the anger of his soul, and sware a mighty oath
that never again to Olympus and the starry heaven should Ate come, who blindeth
all alike. He said, and whirling her in his hand flung her from the starry
heaven, and quickly came she down among the works of men. Yet ever he groaned
against her when he beheld his beloved son in cruel travail at
Eurystheus&rsquo; hest. Thus also I, what time great Hector of the glancing
helm was slaying Argives at the sterns of our ships, could not be unmindful of
Ate, who blinded me at the first. But since thus blinded was I, and Zeus bereft
me of my wit, fain am I to make amends, and recompense manifold for the wrong.
Only arise thou to the battle and rouse the rest of the host. Gifts am I ready
to offer, even all that noble Odysseus went yesterday to promise in thy hut.
So, if thou wilt, stay awhile, though eager, from battle, and squires shall
take the gifts from my ship and carry them to thee, that thou mayest see that
what I give sufficeth thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered him Achilles swift of foot: &ldquo;Most noble son of Atreus,
Agamemnon king of men, for the gifts, to give them as it beseemeth, if so thou
wilt, or to withhold, is in thy choice. But now let us bethink us of battle
with all speed; this is no time to dally here with subtleties, for a great work
is yet undone. Once more must Achilles be seen in the forefront of the battle,
laying waste with his brazen spear the battalions of the men of Troy. Thereof
let each of you think as he fighteth with his man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: &ldquo;Nay yet, for all
thy valour, godlike Achilles, not against Ilios lead thou the sons of Achaians
fasting to fight the men of Troy, since not of short spell shall the battle be,
when once the ranks of men are met, and God shall breathe valour into both. But
bid the Achaians taste at the swift ships food and wine; for thence is vigour
and might. For no man fasting from food shall be able to fight with the foe all
day till the going down of the sun; for though his spirit be eager for battle
yet his limbs unaware grow weary, and thirst besetteth him, and hunger, and his
knees in his going fail. But the man who having his fill of food and wine
fighteth thus all day against the enemy, his heart is of good cheer within him,
nor anywise tire his limbs, ere all give back from battle. So come, disperse
the host and bid them make ready their meal. And the gifts let Agamemnon king
of men bring forth into the midst of the assembly, that all Achaians may behold
them with their eyes, and thou be glad at heart. And let him swear to thee an
oath, standing in the midst of the Argives, that he hath never gone up into the
damsel&rsquo;s bed or lain with her, [O prince, as is the wont of man with
woman]; and let thine own spirit be placable within thy breast. Then let him
make thee a rich feast of reconcilement in his hut, that thou have nothing
lacking of thy right. And thou, son of Atreus, toward others also shalt be more
righteous hereafter; for no shame it is that a man that is a king should make
amends if he have been the first to deal violently.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him spake Agamemnon king of men: &ldquo;Son of Laertes, I rejoice to
listen to thy speech; for rightfully hast thou told over all. And the oath I am
willing to swear, yea my heart biddeth it, nor will I forswear myself before
God. Let Achilles abide for a space, eager for battle though he be, and all ye
others abide together, until the gifts come forth from my hut, and we make
faithful oath with sacrifice. But thee thyself I thus charge and bid. Choose
thee young men, princes of the Achaian folk, and bear my gifts from my ship,
even all that we promised yesterday to Achilles, and take with thee the women.
And let Talthybios speedily make me ready a boar-swine in the midst of the wide
Achaian host, to sacrifice to Zeus and to the Sun.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer swift-footed Achilles spake: &ldquo;Most noble son of
Atreus, Agamemnon king of men, at some other time were it even better ye should
be busied thus, when haply there shall be some pause of war, and the spirit
within my breast shall be less fierce. But now they lie mangled on the
field—even they whom Hector son of Priam slew, when Zeus gave him glory—and ye
call men to their food. Verily for my part I would bid the sons of the Achaians
to fight now unfed and fasting, and with the setting sun make ready a mighty
meal, when we shall have avenged the shame. Till then down my throat at least
nor food nor drink shall go, since my comrade is dead, who in my hut is lying
mangled by the sharp spear, with his feet toward the door, and round him our
comrades mourn, wherefore in my heart to no thought of those matters, but of
slaying, and blood, and grievous moans of men.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered him Odysseus of many counsels: &ldquo;O Achilles, Peleus&rsquo;
son, mightiest of Achaians far, better and mightier not a little art thou than
I with the spear, but in counsel I may surpass thee greatly, since I was born
first and know more things: wherefore let thy heart endure to listen to my
speech. Quickly have men surfeit of battle, of that wherein the sword streweth
most straw yet is the harvest scantiest, [i.e., in a pitched battle there is
little plunder, the hope of which might help to sustain mel&rsquo;s efforts in
storming a town] when Zeus inclineth his balance, who is disposer of the wars
of men. But it cannot be that the Achaians fast to mourn a corpse; for
exceeding many and thick fall such on every day; when then should there be rest
from toil? Nay, it behoveth to bury him who is dead, steeling our hearts, when
once we have wept him for a day; but such as are left alive from hateful war
must take thought of meat and drink, that yet more against our foes we may
fight relentlessly ever, clad in unyielding bronze. Then let none of the host
hold back awaiting other summons; this is the summons, and ill shall it be for
whoso is left behind at the Argive ships; but all together as one we will rouse
against the horse-taming Trojans the fury of war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spoke, and took with him the sons of noble Nestor, and Meges son of Phyleus,
and Thoas, and Meriones, and Lykomedes son of Kreiontes, and Melanippos. And
they went on their way to the hut of Agamemnon, Atreus&rsquo; son. Forthwith as
the word was spoken so was the deed done. Seven tripods they bare from the hut,
as he promised him, and twenty bright caldrons, and twelve horses, and anon
they led forth women skilled in goodly arts, seven, and the eighth was
fair-faced Briseis. Then Odysseus, having weighed ten talents of gold in all,
led the way, and with him young men of the Achaians bare the gifts. These they
set in the midst of the place of assembly, and Agamemnon rose up, and beside
that shepherd of the host stood Talthybios, whose voice was like a god&rsquo;s,
and held a boar between his hands. And the son of Atreus drawing with his hands
his knife, which ever hung beside the mighty scabbard of his sword, cut off the
first hairs from the boar, and lifting up his hands he prayed to Zeus, and all
the Argives sat silent in their places, duly hearkening to the king. And he
prayed aloud, looking up to the wide heaven: &ldquo;Be Zeus before all witness,
highest and best of the gods, and Earth, and Sun, and Erinyes, who under earth
take vengeance upon men, whosoever for-sweareth himself, that never have I laid
hand on the damsel Briseis, neither to lie with her nor anywise else, but she
has abode untouched within my huts. And if aught that I swear be false, may the
gods give me all sorrows manifold, that they send on him who sinneth against
them in his oath.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and cut the boar&rsquo;s throat with the pitiless knife. And the body
Taithybios whirled and threw into the great wash of the hoary sea, to be the
food of fishes; but Achilles arose up and spake in the midst of the warrior
Argives: &ldquo;Father Zeus, sore madness dealest thou verily to men. Never
could the son of Atreus have stirred the soul within my breast, nor led off the
damsel implacably against my will, had not Zeus willed that on many of the
Achaians death should come. But now go forth to your meal, that we may join
battle thereupon.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus he spake and dispersed the assembly with all speed. The rest were
scattered each to his own ship, but the great-hearted Myrmidons took up the
gifts, and bare them to the ship of godlike Achilles. And they laid them in the
huts and set the women there, and gallant squires drave the horses among their
troop.
</p>

<p>
But Briseis that was like unto golden Aphrodite, when she beheld Patroklos
mangled by the keen spear, fell about him and made shrill lament, and tore with
her hands her breast and tender neck, and beautiful face. And she spake amid
her weeping, that woman like unto goddesses: &ldquo;Patroklos, dearest to my
hapless heart, alive I left thee when I left this hut, but now, O prince of the
people, I am come back to find thee dead; thus evil ever followeth evil in my
lot. My husband, unto whom my father and lady mother gave me, I beheld before
our city mangled with the keen spear, and my three brothers whom my own mother
bore, my near and dear, who all met their day of doom. But thou, when swift
Achilles slew my husband and wasted godlike Mynes&rsquo; city, wouldest ever
that I should not even weep, and saidest that thou wouldst make me godlike
Achilles&rsquo; wedded wife, and that ye would take me in your ships to Phthia
and make me a marriage feast among the Myrmidons. Therefore with all my soul I
mourn thy death, for thou wert ever kind.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she weeping, and thereon the women wailed, in semblance for
Patroklos, but each for her own woe. But round Achilles gathered the elders of
the Achaians, praying him that he would eat; but he denied them with a groan:
&ldquo;I pray you, if any kind comrade will hearken to me, bid me not sate my
heart with meat and drink, since terrible grief is come upon me. Till the sun
go down I will abide, and endure continually until then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spoke, and his speech made the other chiefs depart, but the two sons of
Atreus stayed, and noble Odysseus, and Nestor and Idomeneus and Phoinox,
ancient knight, soothing him in his exceeding sorrow, but he could no whit be
soothed until he had entered the mouth of bloody war. And bethinking him he
sighed very heavily and spake aloud: &ldquo;Thou too, O hapless, dearest of my
friends, thyself wouldst verily of yore set forth in out hut with ready speed a
savoury meal, what time the Achaians hasted to wage against the horse-taming
Trojans dolorous war. But now thou liest mangled, and my heart will none of
meat and drink, that stand within, for desire of thee. Nought worse than this
could I endure, not though I should hear of my father&rsquo;s death, who now I
ween in Phthia is shedding big tears for lack of a son so dear, even me that in
an alien land for sake of baleful Helen do battle with the men of Troy; nor
though it were my beloved son who is reared for me in Skyros (if still at least
is godlike Neoptolemos alive). For hitherto had my soul within me trusted that
I alone should perish far from horse-pasturing Argos, here in the Trojan land,
but that thou shouldest return to Phthia, so that thou mightest take me the
child in thy swift black ship from Skyros and show him everything—my substance
and servants, and high-roofed mighty hall. For Peleus I ween already must be
dead and gone, or else in feeble life he hath sorrow of age, and of waiting
ever for bitter news of me, till he hear that I am dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he weeping, and the elders mourned with him, bethinking them what
each had left at home. And when the son of Kronos beheld them sorrowing he
pitied them, and forthwith to Athene spake he winged words: &ldquo;My child,
thou hast then left utterly the man of thy heart. Hath Achilles then no longer
a place within thy thought? He before the steep-prowed ships sits mourning his
dear comrade; the rest are gone to their meal, but he is fasting and unfed. But
go, distil into his breast nectar and pleasant ambrosia, that no pains of
hunger come on him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he sped forward Athene who before was fain. And she, like a falcon
wide-winged and shrill-voiced, hurled herself forth from heaven through the
upper air. So while the Achaians were arming presently throughout the camp, she
in Achilles&rsquo; breast distilled nectar and pleasant ambrosia, that grievous
hunger might not assail his knees, and then herself was gone to the firm house
of her mighty father. Then the Achaians poured forth from the swift ships. As
when thick snowflakes flutter down from Zeus, chill beneath the blast of Boreas
born in the upper air, so thick from the ships streamed forth bright glittering
helms and bossy shields, strong-plaited cuirasses and ashen spears. And the
sheen thereof went up to heaven and all the earth around laughed in the flash
of bronze, and there went a sound beneath the feet of the men, and in the midst
of them noble Achilles harnessed him. His teeth gnashed together, and his eyes
blazed as it were the flame of a fire, for into his heart was intolerable
anguish entered in. Thus wroth against the men of Troy he put on the gift of
the god, which Hephaistos wrought him by his art. First on his legs he set the
fair greaves fitted with silver ankle-pieces, and next he donned the cuirass
about his breast. Then round his shoulders he slung the bronze sword
silver-studded; then lastly he took the great and strong shield, and its
brightness shone afar off as the mool&rsquo;s. Or as when over the sea there
appeareth to sailors the brightness of a burning fire, and it burneth on high
among the mountains in some lonely steading—sailors whom storm-blasts bear
unwilling over the sea, the home of fishes, afar from them they love:— so from
Achilles&rsquo; goodly well-dight shield the brightness thereof shot up toward
heaven. And he lifted the stout helmet and set it on his head, and like a star
it shone, the horse-hair crested helmet, and around it waved plumes of gold
that Hephaistos had set thick about the crest. Then noble Achilles proved him
in his armour to know whether it fitted unto him, and whether his glorious
limbs ran free; and it became to him as it were wings, and buoyed up the
shepherd of hosts.
</p>

<p>
And forth from its stand he drew his father&rsquo;s spear, heavy and great and
strong: that spear could none other of the Achaians wield, but Achilles alone
awaited to wield it, the Pelian ashen spear that Cheiron gave to his father
dear, from a peak of Pelion, to be the death of warriors. And Automedon and
Alkimos went about to yoke the horses, and put on them fair breast-straps, and
bits within their jaws, and stretched the reins behind to the firm-built
chariot. Then Automedon took the bright lash, fitted to his hand, and sprang up
behind the horses, and after him mounted Achilles armed, effulgent in his
armour like bright Hyperion. And terribly he called upon the horses of his
sire: &ldquo;Xanthos and Balios, famed children of Podarge, in other sort take
heed to bring your charioteer safe back to the Danaan host, when we have done
with battle, and leave him not as ye left Patroklos to lie there dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the horse Xanthos of glancing feet made answer unto him from beneath the
yoke;—and he bowed with his head, and all his mane fell from the yoke-cushion
beside the yoke and touched the ground;—for the white-armed goddess Hera gave
him speech: &ldquo;Yea verily for this hour, dread Achilles, we will still bear
thee safe, yet is thy death day nigh at hand, neither shall we be cause
thereof, but a mighty god, and forceful Fate. For not through sloth or
heedlessness of ours did the men of Troy from Patrokios&rsquo; shoulders strip
his arms, but the best of the gods, whom bright-haired Leto bore, slew him in
the forefront of the battle, and to Hector gave renown. We even with the wind
of Zephyr, swiftest, they say, of all winds, well might run; nathless to thee
thyself it is appointed to be slain in fight by a god and by a man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Now when he had thus spoken the Erinyes stayed his voice. And sore troubled did
fleet-footed Achilles answer him: &ldquo;Xanthos, why prophesiest thou my
death? no wise behoveth it thee. Well know I of myself that it is appointed me
to perish here, far from my father dear and mother; howbeit anywise I will not
refrain till I give the Trojans surfeit of war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and with a cry among the foremost held on his whole-hooved steeds.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap20"></a>BOOK XX.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles made havoc among the men of Troy.
</p>

<p>
So by the beaked ships around thee, son of Peleus, hungry for war, the Achaians
armed; and over against them the men of Troy, upon the high ground of the
plain.
</p>

<p>
But Zeus bade Themis call the gods to council from many-folded Olympus&rsquo;
brow; and she ranged all about and bade them to the house of Zeus. There was no
River came not up, save only Ocean, nor any nymph, of all that haunt fair
thickets and springs of rivers and grassy water-meadows. And they came to the
house of Zeus who gathereth the clouds, and sat them down in the polished
colonnades which Hephaistos in the cunning of his heart had wrought for father
Zeus.
</p>

<p>
Thus gathered they within the doors of Zeus; nor was the Earthshaker heedless
of the goddess&rsquo; call, but from the salt sea came up after the rest, and
set him in the midst, and inquired concerning the purpose of Zeus:
&ldquo;Wherefore, O Lord of the bright lightning, hast thou called the gods
again to council? Say, ponderest thou somewhat concerning the Trojans and
Achaians? for lo, the war and the fighting of them are kindled very
nigh.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And Zeus, who gathered the clouds, answered him, saying: &ldquo;Thou knowest, O
Earthshaker, the purpose within my breast, wherefor I gathered you hither; even
in their perishing have I regard unto them. But for me I will abide here,
sitting within a fold of Olympus, where I will gladden my heart with gazing;
but go all ye forth that ye come among the Trojans and Achaians and succour
these or those, howsoever each of you hath a mind. For if Achilles alone shall
fight against the Trojans, not even a little while shall they hold back the son
of Peleus, the fleet of foot. Nay, but even aforetime they trembled when they
looked upon him; now therefore that his wrath for his friend is waxen terrible
I fear me lest he overleap the bound of fate, and storm the wall.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the son of Kronos, and roused unabating war. For on this side and on
that the gods went forth to war: to the company of the ships went Hera, and
Pallas Athene, and Poseidon, Earth-enfolder, and the Helper Hermes, pro-eminent
in subtle thoughts; and with these went Hephaistos in the greatness of his
strength, halting, but his shrunk legs moved nimbly under him: but to the
Trojans went Ares of the glancing helm, and with him Phoebus of the unshorn
hair, and archer Artemis, and Leto and Xanthos and laughter-loving Aphrodite.
</p>

<p>
Now for so long as gods were afar from mortal men, so long waxed the Achaians
glorious, for that Achilles was come forth among them, and his long ceasing
from grim battle was at an end. And the Trojans were smitten with sore
trembling in the limbs of every one of them, in terror when they beheld the son
of Peleus, fleet of foot, blazing in his arms, peer of man-slaying Ares. But
when among the mellay of men the Olympians were come down, then leapt up in her
might Strife, rouser of hosts, then sent forth Athene a cry, now standing by
the hollowed trench without the wall, and now on the echoing shores she shouted
aloud. And a shout uttered Ares against her, terrible as the blackness of the
storm, now from the height of the city to the Trojans calling clear, or again
along Simois shore over Kallikolon he sped.
</p>

<p>
So urged the blessed gods both hosts to battle, then themselves burst into
fierce war. And terribly thundered the father of gods and men from heaven
above; and from beneath Poseidon made the vast earth shake and the steep
mountain tops. Then trembled all the spurs of many-fountained Ida, and all her
crests, and the city of the Trojans, and the ships of the Achaians. And the
Lord of the Underworld, Aiedoneus, had terror in hell, and leapt from his
throne in that terror and cried aloud, lest the world be cloven above him by
Poseidon, Shaker of earth, and his dwelling-place be laid bare to mortals and
immortals—grim halls, and vast, and lothly to the gods. So loud the roar rose
of that battle of gods. For against King Poseidon stood Phoebus Apollo with his
winged arrows, and against Enyalios stood Athene, bright-eyed goddess, and
against Hera she of the golden shafts and echoing chase, even archer Artemis,
sister of the Far-darter; and against Leto the strong Helper Hermes, and
against Hephaistos the great deep-eddying River, whom gods call Xanthos and men
Skamandros.
</p>

<p>
Thus gods with gods were matched. Meanwhile Achilles yearned above all to meet
Hector, son of Priam, in the fray; for with that blood chiefliest his spirit
bade him sate Ares, stubborn lord of war. But straightway Apollo, rouser of
hosts, moved Aineias to go to meet the son of Peleus, and filled him with brave
spirit: and he made his own voice like the voice of Lykaon the son of Priam; in
his semblance spake Apollo, son of Zeus: &ldquo;Aineias, counsellor of Trojans,
where now are thy threats wherewith thou didst boast to the Trojan lords over
thy wine, saying thou wouldest stand up in battle against Achilles,
Peleus&rsquo; son?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him Aineias answered and said: &ldquo;Son of Priam, why biddest thou me
thus face the fierce son of Peleus in battle, though I be not fain thereto? Not
for the first time now shall I match me with Achilles, fleet of foot; once
before drave he me with his spear from Ida, when he harried our kine and wasted
Lyrnessos and Pedasos; but Zeus delivered me out of his hand and put strength
into my knees that they were swift. Else had I fallen beneath the hands of
Achilles, and of Athene who went before and gave him light, and urged him to
slay Leleges and Trojans with his spear of bronze. Therefore it is impossible
for man to face Achilles in fight, for that ever some god is at his side to
ward off death. Ay, and at any time his spear flieth straight, neither ceaseth
till it have pierced through flesh of man. But if God once give us fair field
of battle, not lightly shall he overcome me, not though he boast him made of
bronze throughout.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake Apollo son of Zeus: &ldquo;Yea, hero, pray thou too
to the everliving gods; for thou too, men say, wast born of Aphrodite daughter
of Zeus, and Achilles&rsquo; mother is of less degree among the gods. For thy
mother is child of Zeus, his but of the Ancient One of the Sea. Come, bear up
thy unwearying spear against him, let him no wise turn thee back with revilings
and bitter words.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and breathed high spirit into the shepherd of the host, and he went
onward through the forefront of the fighting, harnessed in flashing bronze. But
white-armed Hera failed not to discern Anchises&rsquo; son as he went through
the press of men to meet the son of Peleus, and gathering the gods about her
she spake among them thus: &ldquo;Consider ye twain, Poseidon and Athene,
within your hearts, what shall come of these things that are done. Here is
Aineias gone forth harnessed in flashing bronze, to meet the son of Peleus, and
it is Phoebus Apollo that hath sent him. Come then, be it ours to turn him back
straightway; or else let some one of us stand likewise beside Achilles and give
him mighty power, so that he fail not in his spirit, but know that they who
love him are the best of the Immortals, and that they who from of old ward war
and fighting from the Trojans are vain as wind. All we from Olympus are come
down to mingle in this fight that he take no hurt among the Trojans on this
day—afterward he shall suffer whatsoever things Fate span for him with her
thread, at his beginning, when his mother bare him. If Achilles learn not this
from voice divine, then shall he be afraid when some god shall come against him
in the battle; for gods revealed are hard to look upon.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to her made answer Poseidon, Shaker of the earth: &ldquo;Hera, be not
fierce beyond wisdom; it behoveth thee not. Not fain am I at least to match
gods with gods in strife. Let us go now into some high place apart and seat us
there to watch, and battle shall be left to men. Only if Ares or Phoebus Apollo
fall to fighting, or put constraint upon Achilles and hinder him from fight,
then straightway among us too shall go up the battle-cry of strife; right soon,
methinks, shall they hie them from the issue of the fray back to Olympus to the
company of the gods, overcome by the force of our hands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the blue-haired god, and led the way to the mounded wall of
heaven-sprung Herakles, that lofty wall built him by the Trojans and Pallas
Athene, that he might escape the monster and be safe from him, what time he
should make his onset from the beach to the plain. There sate them down
Poseidon and the other gods, and clothed their shoulders with impenetrable
cloud. And they of the other part sat down on the brows of Kallikolon around
thee, Archer Phoebus, and Ares waster of cities. Thus they on either side sat
devising counsels, but shrank all from falling to grievous war, and Zeus from
his high seat commanded them.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile the whole plain was filled with men and horses and ablaze with
bronze; and the earth rang with the feet of them as they rushed together in the
fray. Two men far better than the rest were meeting in the midst between the
hosts, eager for battle, Aineias, Anchises&rsquo; son, and noble Achilles.
First came on Aineias threateningly, tossing his strong helm; his rapid shield
he held before his breast, and brandished his bronze spear. And on the other
side the son of Peleus rushed to meet him like a lion, a ravaging lion whom men
desire to slay, a whole tribe assembled: and first he goeth his way unheeding,
but when some warrior youth hath smitten him with a spear, the he gathereth
himself open-mouthed, and foam cometh forth about his teeth, and his stout
spirit groaneth in his heart, and with his tail he scourgeth either side his
ribs and flanks and goadeth himself on to fight, and glaring is borne straight
on them by his passion, to try whether he shall slay some man of them, or
whether himself shall perish in the forefront of the throng: thus was Achilles
driven of his passion and valiant spirit to go forth to meet Aineias great of
heart. And when they were come near against each other, then first to Aineias
spake fleet-footed noble Achilles: &ldquo;Aineias, wherefore hast thou so far
come forward from the crowd to stand against me: doth thy heart bid thee fight
with me in hope of holding Priam&rsquo;s honour and lordship among the
horse-taming Trojans? Nay, though thou slay me, not for that will Priam lay his
kingdom in thy hands, for he hath sons, and is sound and of unshaken mind. Or
have the Trojans allotted thee some lot of ground more choice than all the
rest, fair land of tilth and orchard, that thou mayest dwell therein, if thou
slay me? But methinks thou wilt find the slaying hard; for once before, I ween,
have I made thee flee before my spear. Host thou forgotten the day when thou
wert alone with the kine, and I made thee run swift-footed down Ida&rsquo;s
steeps in haste?—then didst thou not look behind thee in thy flight. Thence
fleddest thou to Lernessos, but I wasted it, having fought against it with the
help of Athene and of father Zeus, and carried away women captive, bereaving
them of their day of freedom: only thee Zeus shielded, and other gods. But not
this time, methinks, shall they shield thee, as thou imaginest in thy heart:
therefore I bid thee go back into the throng and come not forth against me,
while as yet thou art unhurt—after the event even a fool is wise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him in answer again Aineias spake: &ldquo;Son of Peleus, think not with
words to affright me as a child, since I too well know myself how to speak
taunts and unjust speech. We know each other&rsquo;s race and lineage in that
we have heard the fame proclaimed by mortal men, but never hast thou set eyes
on my parents, or I on thine. Thou, they say, art son of nobie Peleus, and of
Thetis of the fair tresses, the daughter of the sea: the sire I boast is
Anchises great of heart, and my mother is Aphrodite. Of these shall one pair or
the other mourn their dear son today; for verily not with idle words shall we
two satisfy our strife and depart out of the battle. But, if thou wilt, learn
also this, that thou mayest well know our lineage, known to full many men:
First Zeus the cloud-gatherer begat Dardanos, and he stablished Dardania, for
not yet was holy Ilios built upon the plain to be a city of mortal men, but
still they dwelt on slopes of many-fountained Ida. Then Dardanos begat a son,
king Erichthonios, who became richest of mortal men. Three thousand mares had
he that pastured along the marsh meadow, rejoicing in their tender foals. Of
them was Boreas enamoured as they grazed, and in semblance of a dark-maned
horse he covered them: then they having conceived bare twelve fillies. These
when they bounded over Earth the grain-giver would run upon the topmost ripened
ears of corn and break them not; and when they bounded over the broad backs of
the sea they would run upon the crests of the breakers of the hoary brine. Then
Erichthonios begat Tros to be load over the Trojans, and to Tros three noble
sons were born, Ilos and Assarakos and godlike Ganymedes, who became the most
beautiful of mortal men. Him the gods caught up to be cupbearer to Zeus, for
sake of his beauty, that he might dwell among immortals. Then Ilos again begat
a son, noble Laomedon, and Laomedon begat Tithonos and Priam and Lamppos and
Klytios and Hiketaon, of the stock of Ares. And Assarakos begat Kapys, and
Kapys Anchises, and Anchises me; but Priam begat the goodly Hector.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lo then of this blood and lineage declare I myself unto thee. But for
valour, Zeus increaseth it in men or minisheth it according as he will, for he
is lord of all. But come, let us talk thus together no longer like children,
standing in mid onset of war. For there are revilings in plenty for both of us
to utter—a hundred-thwarted ship would not suffice for the load of them. Glib
is the tongue of man, and many words are therein of every kind, and wide is the
range of his speech hither and thither. Whatsoever word thou speak, such wilt
thou hear in answer. But what need that we should bandy strife and wrangling
each against each. Not by speech shalt thou turn me from the battle that I
desire, until we have fought together, point to point: come then, and
straightway we will each try the other with bronze-headed spears.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and against that other&rsquo;s dread and mighty shield hurled his
great spear, and the shield rang loud beneath the spear-point. And the son of
Peleus held away the shield from him with his stout hand, in fear, for he
thought that the far-shadowing spear of Aineias great of heart would lightly
pierce it through—fond man, and knew not in his mind and heart that not lightly
do the glorious gifts of gods yield to force of mortal men. So did not the
great spear of wise Aineias pierce that shield, for the gold resisted it, even
the gift of the god. Yet through two folds he drave it, but three remained, for
five folds had the lame god welded, two bronze, and two inside of tin, and one
of gold; therein was stayed the ashen spear.
</p>

<p>
Then Achilles in his turn hurled his far-shadowing spear, and smote upon the
circle of the shield of Aineias, beneath the edge of the rim, where the bronze
ran thinnest round, and the bull-hide was thinnest thereon; and right through
sped the Pelian ashen spear, and the shield cracked under it. And Aineias
crouched and held up the shield away from him in dread; and the spear flew over
his back and fixed itself in the earth, having divided asunder the two circles
of the sheltering shield. And having escaped the long spear he stood still, and
a vast anguish drowned his eyes, affrighted that the spear was planted by him
so nigh. But Achilles drew his sharp sword and furiously made at him, crying
his terrible cry: then Aineias grasped in his hand a stone (a mighty deed) such
as two men, as men now are, would not avail to lift, but he with ease wielded
it all alone. Then would Aineias have smitten him with the stone as he charged,
either on helm or shield, which had warded from him bitter death, and then
would the son of Peleus have closed and slain him with his sword, had not
Poseidon, Shaker of earth, marked it with speed, and straightway spoken among
the immortal gods: &ldquo;Alas, woe is me for Aineias great of heart, who
quickly will go down to Hades slain by the son of Peleus, for that he will obey
the words of Apollo the far-darter, fond man, but nowise shall the god help him
from grievous death. But wherefore now is he to suffer ill in his innocence,
causelessly for others&rsquo; wickedness, yet welcome ever are his offerings to
the gods who inhabit the spacious heaven? Come, let us guide him out of
death&rsquo;s way, lest the son of Kronos be wroth, if Achilles slay him; for
it is appointed to him to escape, that the race of Dardanos perish not without
seed or sign, even Dardanos whom the son of Kronos loved above all the children
born to him from the daughters of men. For the race of Priam hath Zeus already
hated. But thus shall the might of Aineias reign among the Trojans, and his
childrel&rsquo;s children, who shall be born in the aftertime.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And him then answered Hera the ox-eyed queen: &ldquo;Shaker of earth, thyself
with thine own mind take counsel, whether thou wilt save Aineias, or leave him
[to be slain, brave though he be, by Achilles, Peleus&rsquo; son]. For by many
oaths among all the Immortals have we two sworn, even Pallas Athene and I,
never to help the Trojans from their evil day, not even when all Troy shall
burn in the burning of fierce fire, and they that burn her shall be the warlike
sons of the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Now when Poseidon Shaker of earth heard that, he went up amid the battle and
the clash of spears, and came where Aineias and renowned Achilles were. Then
presently he shed mist over the eyes of Achilles, Peleus&rsquo; son, and drew
the bronze-headed ashen spear from the shield of Aineias great of heart, and
set it before Achilles&rsquo; feet, and lifted Aineias and swung him high from
off the earth. Over many ranks of warriors, of horses many, sprang Aineias
soaring in the hand of the god, and lighted at the farthest verge of the battle
of many onsets, where the Kaukones were arraying them for the fight. Then hard
beside him came Poseidon, Shaker of earth, and spake aloud to him winged words:
&ldquo;Aineias, what god is it that biddeth thee fight infatuate against
Peleus&rsquo; vehement son, who is both a better man than thou and dearer to
Immortals? Rather withdraw thee whensoever thou fallest in with him, lest even
contrary to thy fate thou enter the house of Hades. But when Achilles shall
have met his death and doom, then be thou of good courage to fight among the
foremost, for there shall none other of the Achaians slay thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spoke, and left him there, when he had shown him all these things. Then
quickly from Achilles&rsquo; eyes he purged the magic mist; and he stared with
wide eyes, and in trouble spake unto his proud soul: &ldquo;Ha! verily a great
marvel behold I here with mine eyes. My spear lieth here upon the ground, nor
can I anywise see the man at whom I hurled it with intent to slay him. Truly
then is Aineias likewise dear to the immortal gods, howbeit I deemed that his
boosting thereof was altogether vanity. Away with him! not again will he find
heart to make trial of me, now that once more he has escaped death to his joy.
But come, I will call on the warlike Danaans and go forth to make trial of some
other Trojan face to face.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and leapt along the lines, and called upon each man: &ldquo;No longer
stand afar from the men of Troy, noble Achaians, but come let man match man and
throw his soul into the fight. Hard is it for me, though I be strong, to assail
so vast a folk and fight them all: not even Ares, though an immortal god, nor
Athene, could plunge into the jaws of such a fray and toil therein. But to my
utmost power with hands and feet and strength no whit, I say, will I be slack,
nay, never so little, but right through their line will I go forward, nor deem
I that any Trojan shall be glad who shall come nigh my spear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he urging them. But to the Trojans glorious Hector called aloud, and
proclaimed that he would go forth against Achilles: &ldquo;High-hearted
Trojans, fear not Peleus&rsquo; son. I too in words could fight even Immortals,
but with the spear it were hard, for they are stronger far. Neither shall
Achilles accomplish all his talk, but part thereof he is to accomplish, and
part to break asunder in the midst. And against him will I go forth, though the
hands of him be even as fire, yea though his hands be as fire and his
fierceness as the flaming steel.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he urging them, and the Trojans raised their spears for battle; and
their fierceness was mingled confusedly, and the battle-cry arose. Then Phoebus
Apollo stood by Hector and spake to him: &ldquo;Hector, no longer challenge
Achilles at all before the lines, but in the throng await him and from amid the
roar of the battle, lest haply he spear thee or come near and smite thee with
his sword.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Hector again fell back into the crowd of men, for he was
amazed when he heard the sound of a god&rsquo;s voice.
</p>

<p>
But Achilles sprang in among the Trojans, his heart clothed with strength,
crying his terrible cry, and first he took Iphition, Otrynteus&rsquo; valiant
son, a leader of much people, born of a Naiad nymph to Otrynteus waster of
cities, beneath snowy Tmolos, in Hyde&rsquo;s rich domain. Him as he came right
on did goodly Achilles smite with his hurled spear, down through the midst of
his head, and it was rent asunder utterly. And he fell with a crash, and goodly
Achilles exulted over him; &ldquo;here is thy death, thy birth was on the
Gygaian lake, where is thy sire&rsquo;s demesne, by Hyllos rich in fish and
eddying Hermos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he exultant, but darkness fell upon the eyes of Iphition: him the
chariots of the Achaians clave with their tires asunder in the forefront of the
battle, and over him Achilles pierced in the temples, through his
bronze-cheeked helmet, Demoleon, brave stemmer of battle, Antenor&rsquo;s son.
No stop made the bronze helmet, but therethrough sped the spear-head and clave
the bone, and the brain within was all scattered: that stroke made ending of
his zeal. Then Hippodamas, as he leapt from his chariot and fled before him,
Achilles wounded in the back with his spear: and he breathed forth his spirit
with a roar, as when a dragged bull roareth that the young men drag to the
altar of the Lord of Helike; for in such hath the Earthshaker his delight: thus
roared Hippodamas as from his bones fled forth his haughty spirit. But Achilles
with his spear went on after godlike Polydoros, Priam&rsquo;s son. Him would
his sire continually forbid to fight, for that among his children he was
youngest born and best beloved, and overcame all in fleetness of foot. Just
then in boyish folly, displaying the swiftness of his feet, he was rushing
through the forefighters, until he lost his life. Him in the midst did
fleet-footed noble Achilles smite with a javelin, in his back as he darted by,
where his belt&rsquo;s golden buckles clasped, and the breast and back plates
overlapped: and right through beside the navel went the spear-head, and he fell
on his knee with a cry, and dark cloud covered him round about, and he clasped
his bowels to him with his hands as he sank.
</p>

<p>
Then when Hector saw his brother Polydoros clasping his bowels with his hands,
and sinking to the earth, a mist fell over his eyes, nor longer might he endure
to range so far apart, but he came up against Achilles brandishing his sharp
spear, and like flame of fire. And Achilles when he saw him, sprang up, and
spake exultingly: &ldquo;Behold the man who hath deepest stricken into my soul,
who slew my dear-prized friend; not long shall we now shrink from each other
along the highways of the war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and looking grimly spake unto goodly Hector: &ldquo;Come thou near,
that the sooner thou mayest arrive at the goal of death.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him, unterrified, said Hector of the glancing helm: &ldquo;Son of
Peleus, think not with words to affright me as a child, since I too know myself
how to speak taunts and unjust speech. And I know that thou art a man of might,
and a far better man than I. Yet doth this issue lie in the lap of the gods,
whether I though weaker shall take thy life with my hurled spear, for mine too
hath been found keen ere now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and poised his spear and hurled it, and Athene with a breath turned it
back from glorious Achilles, breathing very lightly; and it came back to goodly
Hector, and fell there before his feet. Then Achilles set fiercely upon him,
eager to slay him, crying his terrible cry. But Apollo caught Hector up, very
easily, as a god may, and hid him in thick mist. Thrice then did fleet-footed
noble Achilles make onset with his spear of bronze, and thrice smote the thick
mist. [But when the fourth time he had come godlike on,] then with dread shout
he spake to him winged words: &ldquo;Dog, thou art now again escaped from
death; yet came ill very nigh thee; but now hath Phoebus Apollo saved thee, to
whom thou must surely pray when thou goest forth amid the clash of spears.
Verily I will slay thee yet when I meet thee hereafter, if any god is helper of
me too. Now will I make after the rest, whomsoever I may seize.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus speaking he pierced Dryops in the midst of his neck with his spear, and he
fell down before his feet. But he left him where he lay, and hurled at Demuchos
Philetor&rsquo;s son, a good man and a tall, and stayed him with a stroke upon
his knees; then smote him with his mighty sword and reft him of life. Then
springing on Laogonos and Dardanos, sons of Bias, he thrust both from their
chariot to the ground, one with a spear-cast smiting and the other in close
battle with his sword. Then Tros, Alastor&rsquo;s son—he came and clasped his
knees to pray him to spare him, and let him live, and slay him not, having
compassion on his like age, fond fool, and knew not that he might not gain his
prayers; for nowise soft of heart or tender was that man, but of fierce
mood—with his hands he touched Achilles&rsquo; knees, eager to entreat him, but
he smote him in the liver with his sword, and his liver fell from him, and
black blood therefrom filled his bosom, and he swooned, and darkness covered
his eyes. Then Achilles came near and struck Mulios in the ear, and right
through the other ear went the bronze spear-head. Then he smote Agenor&rsquo;s
son Echeklos on the midst of the head with his hilted sword, and all the sword
grew hot thereat with blood; and dark death seized his eyes, and forceful fate.
Then next Deukalion, just where the sinews of the elbow join, there pierced he
him through the forearm with his bronze spear-head; so abode he with his arm
weighed down, beholding death before him; and Achilles smiting the neck with
his sword swept far both head and helm, and the marrow rose out of the
backbone, and the corpse lay stretched upon the earth. Then went he onward
after Peires&rsquo; noble son, Rhigmos, who had come from deep-soiled Thrace:
him in the midst he smote with his hurled javelin, and the point fixed in his
lung, and he fell forth of his chariot. And Areithoos his squire, as he turned
the horses round, he pierced in the back with his sharp spear, and thrust him
from the car, and the horse ran wild with fear.
</p>

<p>
As through deep glens rageth fierce fire on some parched mountain-side, and the
deep forest burneth, and the wind driving it whirleth every way the flame, so
raged he every way with his spear, as it had been a god, pressing hard on the
men he slew; and the black earth ran with blood. For even as when one yoketh
wide-browed bulls to tread white barley in a stablished threshing-floor, and
quickly is it trodden out beneath the feet of the loud-lowing bulls, thus
beneath great-hearted Achilles his whole-hooved horses trampled corpses and
shields together; and with blood all the axletree below was sprinkled and the
rims that ran around the car, for blood-drops from the horses&rsquo; hooves
splashed them, and blood-drops from the tires of the wheels. But the son of
Peleus pressed on to win him glory, flecking with gore his irresistible hands.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap21"></a>BOOK XXI.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles fought with the River, and chased the men of Troy within their
gates.
</p>

<p>
But when now they came unto the ford of the fair-flowing river, even eddying
Xanthos, whom immortal Zeus begat, there sundering them he chased the one part
to the plain toward the city, even where the Achaians were flying in affright
the day before, when glorious Hector was in his fury—thither poured some in
flight, and Hera spread before them thick mist to hinder them:—but half were
pent into the deep-flowing silver eddied river, and fell therein with a mighty
noise, and the steep channel sounded, and the banks around rang loudly; for
with shouting they swam therein hither and thither whirled round the eddies.
And as when at the rush of fire locusts take wing to fly unto a river, and the
unwearying fire flameth forth on them with sudden onset, and they huddle in the
water; so before Achilles was the stream of deep-eddying Xanthos filled with
the roar and the throng of horses and men.
</p>

<p>
Then the seed of Zeus left behind him his spear upon the bank, leant against
tamarisk bushes, and leapt in, as it were a god, keeping his sword alone, and
devised grim work at heart, and smote as he turned him every way about: and
their groaning went up ghastly as they were stricken by the sword, and the
water reddened with blood. As before a dolphin of huge maw fly other fish and
fill the nooks of some fair-havened bay, in terror, for he devoureth amain
whichsoever of them he may catch; so along the channels of that dread stream
the Trojans crouched beneath the precipitous sides. And when his hands were
weary of slaughter he chose twelve young men alive out of the river, an
atonement for Patroklos, Menoitios&rsquo; son that was dead. These brought he
forth amazed like fawns, and bound behind them their hands with well-cut
thongs, which they themselves wore on their pliant doublets, and gave them to
his comrades to lead down to the hollow ships. Then again he made his onset,
athirst for slaying.
</p>

<p>
There met he a son of Dardanid Priam, in flight out of the river, Lykaon, whom
once himself he took and brought unwilling out of his father&rsquo;s orchard,
in a night assault; he was cutting with keen bronze young shoots of a wild fig
tree, to be hand-rails of a chariot; but to him an unlooked-for bane came
goodly Achilles. And at that time he sold him into well-peopled Lemnos, sending
him on ship board, and the son of Jason gave a price for him; and thence a
guest friend freed him with a great ransom, Eetion of Imbros, and sent him to
goodly Arisbe; whence flying secretly he came to his father&rsquo;s house.
Eleven days he rejoiced among his friends after he was come from Lemnos, but on
the twelfth once more God brought him into the hands of Achilles, who was to
send him to the house of Hades though nowise fain to go. Him when fleet-footed
noble Achilles saw bare of helm and shield, neither had he a spear, but had
thrown all to the ground; for he sweated grievously as he tried to flee out of
the river, and his knees were failing him for weariness: then in wrath spake
Achilles to his great heart: &ldquo;Ha! verily great marvel is this that I
behold with my eyes. Surely then will the proud Trojans whom I have slain rise
up again from beneath the murky gloom, since thus hath this man come back
escaped from his pitiless fate, though sold into goodly Lemnos, neither hath
the deep of the hoary sea stayed him, that holdeth many against their will. But
come then, of our spear&rsquo;s point shall he taste, that I may see and learn
in my mind whether likewise he shall come back even from beneath, or whether
the life-giving Earth shall hold him down, she that holdeth so even the
strong.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus pondered he in his place; but the other came near amazed, fain to touch
his knees, for his soul longed exceedingly to flee from evil death and black
destruction. Then goodly Achilles lifted his long spear with intent to smite
him, but he stooped and ran under it and caught his knees; and the spear went
over his back and stood in the ground, hungering for flesh of men. Then Lykaon
besought him, with one hand holding his knees, while with the other he held the
sharp spear and loosed it not, and spake to him winged words: &ldquo;I cry thee
mercy, Achilles; have thou regard and pity for me: to thee, O fosterling of
Zeus, am I in the bonds of suppliantship. For at thy table first I tasted meal
of Demeter on the day when thou didst take me captive in the well-ordered
orchard, and didst sell me away from my father and my friends unto goodly
Lemnos, and I fetched thee the price of a hundred oxen. And now have I been
ransomed for thrice that, and this is my twelfth morn since I came to Ilios
after much pain. Now once again hath ruinous fate delivered me unto thy hands;
surely I must be hated of father Zeus, that he hath given me a second time unto
thee; and to short life my mother bare me, Laothoe, old Altes&rsquo;
daughter—Altes who ruleth among the war-loving Leleges, holding steep Pedasos
on the Satnioeis. His daughter Priam had to wife, with many others, and of her
were we two born, and thou wilt butcher both. Him among the foremost of the
foot-soldiers didst thou lay low, even godlike Polydoros, when thou smotest him
with they sharp spear: and now will it go hard with me here, for no hope have I
to escape thy hands, since God hath delivered me thereunto. Yet one thing will
I tell thee, and do thou lay it to heart: slay me not, since I am not of the
same mother as Hector, who slew thy comrade the gentle and brave.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake to him the noble son of Priam, beseeching him with words, but he
heard a voice implacable: &ldquo;Fond fool, proffer me no ransom, nor these
words. Until Patroklos met his fated day, then was it welcomer to my soul to
spare the men of Troy, and many I took alive and sold beyond the sea: but now
there is none shall escape death, whomsoever before Ilios God shall deliver
into my hands—yes, even among all Trojans, but chiefest among Priam&rsquo;s
sons. Ay, friend, thou too must die: why lamentest thou? Patroklos is dead, who
was better far than thou. Seest thou not also what manner of man am I for might
and goodliness? and a good man was my father, and a goddess mother bare me. Yet
over me too hang death and forceful fate. There cometh morn or eve or some
noonday when my life too some man shall take in battle, whether with spear he
smite or arrow from the string.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the other&rsquo;s knees and heart were unstrung. He let go
Achilles&rsquo; spear, and sat with both hands outspread. But Achilles drew his
sharp sword and smote on the collar-bone beside the neck, and all the two-edged
sword sank into him, and he lay stretched prone upon the earth, and blood
flowed dark from him and soaked the earth. Him seized Achilles by the foot and
sent him down the stream, and over him exulting spake winged words:
&ldquo;There lie thou among the fishes, which shall lick off thy wound&rsquo;s
blood heedlessly, nor shall thy mother lay thee on a bed and mourn for thee,
but Skamandros shall bear thee on his eddies into the broad bosom of the sea.
Leaping along the wave shall many a fish dart up to the dark ripple to eat of
the white flesh of Lykaon. So perish all, until we reach the citadel of sacred
Ilios, ye flying and I behind destroying. Nor even the River, fair-flowing,
silver-eddied, shall avail you, to whom long time forsooth ye sacrifice many
bulls, and among his eddies throw whole-hooved horses down alive. For all this
yet shall ye die the death, until ye pay all for Patroklos&rsquo; slaying and
the slaughter of Achaians whom at the swift ships ye slew while I tarried
afar.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, but the River waxed ever more wroth in his heart, and sought in
his soul how he should stay goodly Achilles from his work, and ward destruction
from the Trojans. Meanwhile the son of Peleus with his far-shadowing spear
leapt, fain to slay him, upon Asteropaios son of Pelegon, whom wide-flowing
Axios begat of Periboia eldest of the daughters of Akessamenos. Upon him set
Achilles, and Asteropaios stood against him from the river, holding two spears;
for Xanthos put courage into his heart, being angered for the slaughtered
youths whom Achilles was slaughtering along the stream and had no pity on them.
Then when the twain were come nigh in onset on each other, unto him first spake
fleet-footed noble Achilles: &ldquo;Who and whence art thou of men, that darest
to come against me? Ill-fated are they whose children match them with my
might.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him, made answer Pelegol&rsquo;s noble son: &ldquo;High-hearted son of
Peleus, why askest thou my lineage? I come from deep-soiled Paionia, a land far
off, leading Paionian men with their long spears, and this now is the eleventh
morn since I am come to Ilios. My lineage is of wide-flowing Axios, who begat
Pelegon famous with the spear, and he, men say, was my father. Now fight we,
noble Achilles!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he in defiance, and goodly Achilles lifted the Pelian ash: but the
warrior Asteropaios hurled with both spears together, for he could use both
hands alike, and with the one spear smote the shield, but pierced it not right
through, for the gold stayed it, the gift of a god; and with the other he
grazed the elbow of Achilles&rsquo; right arm, and there leapt forth dark
blood, but the point beyond him fixed itself in the earth, eager to batten on
flesh. Then in his turn Achilles hurled on Asteropaios his straight-flying ash,
fain to have slain him, but missed the man and struck the high bank, and
quivering half its length in the bank he left the ashen spear. Then the son of
Peleus drew his sharp sword from his thigh and leapt fiercely at him, and he
availed not to draw with his stout hand Achilles&rsquo; ashen shaft from the
steep bank. Thrice shook he it striving to draw it forth, and thrice gave up
the strain, but the fourth time he was fain to bend and break the ashen spear
of the seed of Aiakos, but ere that Achilles closing on him reft him of life
with his sword. For in the belly he smote him beside the navel, and all his
bowels gushed out to the earth, and darkness covered his eyes as he lay
gasping. Then Achilles trampling on his breast stripped off his armour and
spake exultingly: &ldquo;Lie there! It is hard to strive against children of
Kronos&rsquo; mighty son, even though one be sprung from a River-god. Thou
truly declarest thyself the seed of a wide-flowing River, but I avow me of the
linkage of great Zeus. My sire is a man ruling many Myrmidons, Peleus the son
of Aiakos, and Aiakos was begotten of Zeus. As Zeus is mightier than
seaward-murmuring rivers, so is the seed of Zeus made mightier than the seed of
a river. Nay, there is hard beside thee a great river, if he may anywise avail;
but against Zeus the son of Kronos it is not possible to fight. For him not
even king Acheloios is match, nor yet the great strength of deep-flowing Ocean,
from whom all rivers flow and every sea, and all springs and deep wells: yea,
even he hath fear of the lightning of great Zeus and his dread thunder, when it
pealeth out of heaven.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and from the steep bank drew his bronze spear, and left there
Asteropaios whom he had slain, lying in the sands, and the dark water flooded
him. Around him eels and fishes swarmed, tearing and gnawing the fat about his
kidneys. But Achilles went on after the charioted Paiones who still along the
eddying river huddled in fear, when they saw their best man in the stress of
battle slain violently by the hands and the sword of the son of Peleus. There
slew he Thersilochos and Mydon and Astypylos and Mnesos and Thrasios and Ainios
and Ophelestes; and more yet of the Paiones would swift Achilles have slain,
had not the deep-eddying River called unto him in wrath, in semblance of a man,
and from an eddy&rsquo;s depth sent forth a voice: &ldquo;O Achilles, thy might
and thy evil work are beyond the measure of men; for gods themselves are ever
helping thee. If indeed the son of Kronos hath delivered thee all the Trojans
to destroy, at least drive them forth from me and do thy grim deeds on the
plain, for filled with dead men is my pleasant bed, nor can I pour my stream to
the great sea, being choked with dead, and thou slayest ruthlessly. Come then,
let be; I am astonished, O captain of hosts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him answered Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;So be it, heaven-sprung
Skamandros, even as thou biddest. But the proud Trojans I will not cease from
slaying until I have driven them into their city, and have made trial with
Hector face to face whether he is to vanquish me or I him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying, he set upon the Trojans, like a god. Then unto Apollo spake the
deep-eddying River: &ldquo;Out on it, lord of the silver bow, child of Zeus,
thou hast not kept the ordinance of Kronos&rsquo; son, who charged thee
straitly to stand by the Trojans and to help them, until eve come with light
late-setting, and darken the deep-soiled earth.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and spear-famed Achilles sprang from the bank and leapt into his
midst; but he rushed on him in a furious wave, and stirred up all his streams
in tumult, and swept down the many dead who lay thick in him, slain by
Achilles; these out to land he cast with bellowing like a bull, and saved the
living under his fair streams, hiding them within eddies deep and wide. But
terribly around Achilles arose his tumultuous wave, and the stream smote
violently against his shield, nor availed he to stand firm upon his feet. Then
he grasped a tall fair-grown elm, and it fell uprooted and tore away all the
bank, and reached over the fair river bed with its thick shoots, and stemmed
the River himself, falling all within him: and Achilles, struggling out of the
eddy, made haste to fly over the plain with his swift feet, for he was afraid.
But the great god ceased not, but arose upon him with darkness on his crest,
that he might stay noble Achilles from slaughter, and ward destruction from the
men of Troy. And the son of Peleus rushed away a spear&rsquo;s throw, with the
swoop of a black eagle, the mighty hunter, strongest at once and swiftest of
winged birds. Like him he sped, and on his breast the bronze rang terribly as
he fled from beneath the onset, and behind him the River rushed on with a
mighty roar. As when a field-waterer from a dark spring leadeth water along a
bed through crops and garden grounds, a mattock in his hands, casting forth
hindrances from the ditch, and as it floweth all pebbles are swept down, and
swiftly gliding it murmureth down a sloping place, and outrunneth him that is
its guide:—thus ever the river wave caught up Achilles for all his speed; for
gods are mightier than men. For whensoever fleet-footed noble Achilles
struggled to stand against it, and know whether all immortals be upon him who
inhabit spacious heaven, then would a great wave of the heaven-sprung River
beat upon his shoulders from above, and he sprang upward with his feet, sore
vexed at heart; and the River was wearying his knees with violent rush beneath,
devouring the earth from under his feet. Then the son of Peleus cried aloud,
looking up to the broad heaven: &ldquo;Zeus, Father, how doth none of the gods
take it on him in pity to save me from the River! after that let come to me
what may. None other of the inhabitants of Heaven is chargeable so much, but
only my dear mother, who beguiled me with false words, saying that under the
wall of the mail-clad men of Troy I must die by the swift arrows of Apollo.
Would that Hector had slain me, the best of men bred here: then brave had been
the slayer, and a brave man had he slain. But now by a sorry death am I doomed
to die, pent in this mighty river, like a swineherd boy whom a torrent sweepeth
down as he essayeth to cross it in a storm.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and quickly Poseidon and Athene came near and stood beside him,
in the likeness of men, and taking his hands in theirs pledged him in words.
And the first that spake was Poseidon, Shaker of the earth: &ldquo;Son of
Peleus, tremble not, neither be afraid; such helpers of thee are we from the
gods, approved of Zeus, even Pallas Athene and I, for to be vanquished of a
river is not appointed thee, but he will soon give back, and thou wilt thyself
perceive it: but we will give thee wise counsel, if thou wilt obey it; hold not
thy hand from hazardous battle until within Ilios&rsquo; famous walls thou have
pent the Trojan host, even all that flee before thee. But do thou, when thou
hast taken the life of Hector, go back unto the ships; this glory we give unto
thee to win.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They having thus spoken departed to the immortals, but he toward the plain—for
the bidding of gods was strong upon him—went onward; and all the plain was
filled with water-flood, and many beautiful arms and corpses of slain youths
were drifting there. So upward sprang his knees as he rushed against the stream
right on, nor stayed him the wide-flowing River, for Athene put great strength
in him. Neither did Skamandros slacken his fierceness, but yet more raged
against the son of Peleus, and he curled crestwise the billow of his stream,
lifting himself on high, and on Simoeis he called with a shout: &ldquo;Dear
brother, the strength of this man let us both join to stay, since quickly he
will lay waste the great city of king Priam, and the Trojans abide not in the
battle. Help me with speed, and fill thy streams with water from thy springs,
and urge on all thy torrents, and raise up a great wave, and stir huge roaring
of tree-stumps and stones, that we may stay the fierce man who now is lording
it, and deeming himself match for gods. For neither, I ween, will strength
avail him nor comeliness anywise, nor that armour beautiful, which deep beneath
the flood shall be o&rsquo;erlaid with slime, and himself I will wrap him in my
sands and pour round him countless shingle without stint, nor shall the
Achaians know where to gather his bones, so vast a shroud of silt will I heap
over them. Where he dieth there shall be his tomb, neither shall he have need
of any barrow to be raised, when the Achaians make his funeral.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and rushed in tumult on Achilles, raging from on high, thundering with
foam and blood and bodies of dead men. Then did a dark wave of the
heaven-sprung River stand towering up and overwhelm the son of Peleus. But Hera
cried aloud in terror of Achilles, lest the great deep-eddying River sweep him
away, and straightway she called to Hephaistos, her dear son: &ldquo;Rise, lame
god, O my son; it was against thee we thought that eddying Xanthos was matched
in fight. Help with all speed, put forth large blast of flame. Then will I go
to raise a strong storm out of the sea of the west wind and the white south
which shall utterly consume the dead Trojans and their armour, blowing the
angry flame. Thou along Xanthos&rsquo; banks burn up his trees and wrap himself
in fire, nor let him anywise turn thee back by soft words or by threat, nor
stay thy rage—only when I cry to thee with my voice, then hold the unwearying
fire.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, and Hephaistos made ready fierce-blazing fire. First on the
plain fire blazed, and burnt the many dead who lay there thick, slain by
Achilles; and all the plain was parched and the bright water stayed. And as
when in late summer the north wind swiftly parcheth a new watered orchard, and
he that tilleth it is glad, thus was the whole plain parched, and Hephaistos
consumed the dead; then against the river he turned his gleaming flame. Elms
burnt and willow trees and tamarisks, and lotos burnt and rush and galingale
which round the fair streams of the river grew in multitude. And the eels and
fishes beneath the eddies were afflicted, which through the fair streams
tumbled this way and that, in anguish at the blast of crafty Hephaistos. And
the strong River burned, and spake and called to him by name:
&ldquo;Hephaistos, there is no god can match with thee, nor will I fight thee
thus ablaze with fire. Cease strife, yea, let noble Achilles drive the Trojans
forthwith out of their city; what have I to do with strife and succour?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, burnt with fire, for his fair streams were bubbling. And as a
cauldron boileth within, beset with much fire, melting the lard of some fatted
hog spurting up on all sides, and logs of firewood lie thereunder,—so burned
his fair streams in the fire, and the water boiled. He had no mind to flow, but
refrained him, for the breath of cunning Hephaistos violently afflicted him.
Then unto Hera, earnestly beseeching her,&rsquo; he spake winged words:
&ldquo;Hera, wherefore hath thy son assailed my stream to vex it above others?
I am less chargeable than all the rest that are helpers of the Trojans. But lo,
I will give over, if thou wilt, and let thy son give over too. And I further
will swear even this, that never will I ward the day of evil from the Trojans,
not even when all Troy is burning in the blaze of hungry fire, and the warlike
sons of Achaians are the burners thereof.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then when the white-armed goddess Hera heard his speech, straightway she spake
unto Hephaistos her dear son: &ldquo;Hephaistos, hold, famed son; it befitteth
not thus for mortals&rsquo; sake to do violence to an immortal god.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said she and Hephaistos quenched the fierce-blazing fire, and the wave
once more rolled down the fair river-bed.
</p>

<p>
So when the rage of Xanthos was overcome, both ceased, for Hera stayed them,
though in wrath. But among the other gods fell grievous bitter strife, and
their hearts were carried diverse in their breasts. And they clashed together
with a great noise, and the wide earth groaned, and the clarion of great Heaven
rang around. Zeus heard as he sate upon Olympus, and his heart within him
laughed pleasantly when he beheld that strife of gods. Then no longer stood
they asunder, for Ares piercer of shields began the battle and first made for
Athene with his bronze spear, and spake a taunting word: &ldquo;Wherefore, O
dogfly, dost thou match gods with gods in strife, with stormy daring, as thy
great spirit moveth thee? Rememberest thou not how thou movedst Diomedes
Tydeus&rsquo; son to wound me, and thyself didst take a visible spear and
thrust it straight at me and pierce through my fair skin? Therefore deem I now
that thou shalt pay me for all that thou hast done.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he smote on the dread tasselled aegis that not even the lightning
of Zeus can overcome—thereon smote bloodstained Ares with his long spear. But
she, giving back, grasped with stout hand a stone that lay upon the plain,
black, rugged, huge, which men of old time set to be the landmark of a field;
this hurled she, and smote impetuous Ares on the neck, and unstrung his limbs.
Seven roods he covered in his fall, and soiled his hair with dust, and his
armour rang upon him. And Pallas Athene laughed, and spake to him winged words
exultingly: &ldquo;Fool, not even yet hast thou learnt how far better than thou
I claim to be, that thus thou matchest thy might with mine. Thus shalt thou
satisfy thy mother&rsquo;s curses, who deviseth mischief against thee in her
wrath, for that thou hast left the Achaians and givest the proud Trojal&rsquo;s
aid.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having said she turned from him her shining eyes. Him did Aphrodite
daughter of Zeus take by the hand and lead away, groaning continually, for
scarce gathered he his spirit back to him. But when the white-armed goddess
Hera was aware of them, straightway she spake unto Athene winged words:
&ldquo;Out on it, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, maiden invincible, lo there the
dogfly is leading Ares destroyer of men out of the fray of battle down the
throng—nay then, pursue her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She said, and Athene sped after her with heart exultant, and made at her and
smote her with stout hand upon the breast, and straightway her knees and heart
were unstrung. So they twain lay on the bounteous earth, and she spake winged
words exultingly: &ldquo;Such let all be who give the Trojans aid when they
fight against the mailed Argives. Be they even so bold and brave as Aphrodite
when she came to succour Ares and defied my might. Then should we long ago have
ceased from war, having laid waste the stablished citadel of Ilios.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
[She said, and the white-armed goddess Hera smiled.] Then to Apollo spake the
earth-shaking lord: &ldquo;Phoebus, why stand we apart? It befitteth not after
the rest have begun: that were the more shameful if without fighting we should
go to Olympus to the bronze-thresholded house of Zeus. Begin, for thou art
younger; it were not meet for me, since I was born first and know more. Fond
god, how foolish is thy heart! Thou rememberest not all the ills we twain alone
of gods endured at Ilios, when by ordinance of Zeus we came to proud Laomedon
and served him through a year for promised recompense, and he laid on us his
commands. I round their city built the Trojans a wall, wide and most fair, that
the city might be unstormed, and thou Phoebus, didst herd shambling
crook-horned kine among the spurs of woody many-folded Ida. But when the joyous
seasons were accomplishing the term of hire, then redoubtable Laomedon robbed
us of all hire, and sent us off with threats. He threatened that he would bind
together our feet and hands and sell us into far-off isles, and the ears of
both of us he vowed to shear off with the sword. So we went home with angry
hearts, wroth for the hire he promised and gave us not. To his folk not thou
showest favour, nor essayest with us how the proud Trojans may be brought low
and perish miserably with their children and noble wives.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him answered King Apollo the Far-darter: &ldquo;Shaker of the earth, of
no sound mind wouldst thou repute me if I should fight against thee for the
sake of pitiful mortals, who like unto leaves now live in glowing life,
consuming the fruit of the earth, and now again pine into death. Let us with
all speed cease from combat, and let them do battle by themselves.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he turned away, for he felt shame to deal in blows with his
father&rsquo;s brother. But his sister upbraided him sore, the queen of wild
beasts, huntress Artemis, and spake a taunting word: &ldquo;So then thou
fleest, Far-darter, hast quite yielded to Poseidon the victory, and given him
glory for naught! Fond god, why bearest thou an ineffectual bow in vain? Let me
not hear thee again in the halls of our sire boast as before among the immortal
gods thou wouldst stand up to fight against Poseidon.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, but far-darting Apollo answered her not. But angrily the noble
spouse of Zeus [upbraided the Archer Queen with taunting words:] &ldquo;How now
art thou fain, bold vixen, to set thyself against me? Hard were it for thee to
match my might, bow-bearer though thou art, since against women Zeus made thee
a lion, and giveth thee to slay whomso of them thou wilt. Truly it is better on
the mountains to slay wild beasts and deer than to fight amain with mightier
than thou. But if thou wilt, try war, that thou mayest know well how far
stronger am I, since thou matchest thy might with mine.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She said, and with her left hand caught both the other&rsquo;s hands by the
wrist, and with her right took the bow from off her shoulders, and therewith,
smiling, beat her on the ears as she turned this way and that; and the swift
arrows fell out of her quiver. And weeping from before her the goddess fled
like a dove that from before a falcon flieth to a hollow rock, a cleft—for she
was not fated to be caught;—thus Artemis fled weeping, and left her bow and
arrows where they lay. Then to Leto spake the Guide, the slayer of Argus:
&ldquo;Leto, with thee will I no wise fight; a grievous thing it is to come to
blows with wives of cloud-gathering Zeus; but boast to thy heart&rsquo;s
content among the immortal gods that thou didst vanquish me by might and
main.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said he, and Leto gathered up the curved bow and arrows fallen hither and
thither amid the whirl of dust: so taking her daughter&rsquo;s bow she went
back. And the maiden came to Olympus, to the bronze-thresholded house of Zeus,
and weeping set herself on her father&rsquo;s knee, while round her her divine
vesture quivered: and her father, Kronos&rsquo; son, took her to him and asked
of her, laughing gently: &ldquo;Who of the inhabitants of heaven, dear child,
hath dealt with thee thus [hastily, as though thou hadst been doing some wrong
thing openly]?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake the fair-crowned queen of the echoing chase:
&ldquo;It was thy wife that buffeted me, father, the white-armed Hera, from
whom are strife and contention come upon the immortals.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus talked they unto one another. Then Phoebus Apollo entered into sacred
Ilios, for he was troubled for the wall of the well-builded city, lest the
Danaans waste it before its hour upon that day. But the other ever-living gods
went to Olympus, some angry and some greatly triumphing, and sat down beside
Zeus who hideth himself in dark clouds.
</p>

<p>
Now Achilles was still slaying the Trojans, both themselves and their
whole-hooved horses. And as when a smoke goeth up to the broad heaven, when a
city burneth, kindled by the wrath of gods, and causeth toil to all, and griefs
to many, thus caused Achilles toil and griefs to the Trojans. And the old man
Priam stood on the sacred tower, and was aware of dread Achilles, how before
him the Trojans thronged in rout, nor was any succour found of them. Then with
a cry he went down from the tower, to rouse the gallant warders along the
walls: &ldquo;Hold open the gates in your hands until the folk come to the city
in their rout, for closely is Achilles chasing them—now trow I there will be
deadly deeds. And when they are gathered within the wall and are taking breath,
then again shut back the gate-wings firmly builded; for I fear lest that
murderous man spring in within the wall.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they opened the gates and thrust back the bolts; and the
gates flung back gave safety. Then Apollo leapt forth to the front that he
might ward destruction from the Trojans. They straight for the city and the
high wall were fleeing, parched with thirst and dust-grimed from the plain, and
Achilles chased them vehemently with his spear, for strong frenzy possessed his
heart continually, and he thirsted to win him renown. Then would the sons of
the Achaians have taken high-gated Troy, had not Phoebus Apollo aroused goodly
Agenor, Antenor&rsquo;s son, a princely man and strong. In his heart he put
good courage, and himself stood by his side that he might ward off the grievous
visitations of death, leaning against the oak, and he was shrouded in thick
mist. So when Agenor was aware of Achilles waster of cities, he halted, and his
heart much wavered as he stood; and in trouble he spake to his great heart:
&ldquo;Ay me, if I flee before mighty Achilles, there where the rest are driven
terror-struck, nathless will he overtake me and slaughter me as a coward. Or
what if I leave these to be driven before Achilles the son of Peleus, and flee
upon my feet from the wall by another way to the Ileian plain, until I come to
the spurs of Ida, and hide me in the underwood? So then at evening, having
bathed in the river and refreshed me of sweat, I might return to Ilios. Nay,
why doth my heart debate thus within me? Lest he might be aware of me as I get
me from the city for the plain, and speeding after overtake me with swift feet;
then will it no more be possible to avoid the visitation of death, for he is
exceeding mighty above all mankind. What then if in front of the city I go
forth to meet him? Surely his flesh too is penetrable by sharp bronze, and
there is but one life within, and men say he is mortal, howbeit Zeus the son of
Kronos giveth him renown.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying, he gathered himself to await Achilles, and within him his stout
heart was set to strive and fight. As a leopardess goeth forth from a deep
thicket to affront a huntsman, nor is afraid at heart, nor fleeth when she
heareth the bay of hounds; for albeit the man first smite her with thrust or
throw, yet even pierced through with the spear she ceaseth not from her courage
until she either grapple or be slain, so noble Antenor&rsquo;s son, goodly
Agenor, refused to flee till he should put Achilles to the proof, but held
before him the circle of his shield, and aimed at him with his spear, and cried
aloud: &ldquo;Doubtless thou hopest in thy heart, noble Achilles, on this day
to sack the city of the proud men of Troy. Fond man, there shall many woful
things yet be wrought before it, for within it we are many men and staunch, who
in front of our parents dear and wives and sons keep Ilios safe; but thou shalt
here meet death, albeit so redoubtable and bold a man of war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and hurled his sharp spear with weighty hand, and smote him on the leg
beneath the knee, nor missed his mark, and the greave of new-wrought tin rang
terribly on him; but the bronze bounded back from him it smote, nor pierced
him, for the god&rsquo;s gift drave it back. Then the son of Peleus in his turn
made at godlike Agenor, but Apollo suffered him not to win renown, but caught
away Agenor, and shrouded him in thick mist, and sent him in peace to be gone
out of the war. Then by wile kept the son of Peleus away from the folk, for in
complete semblance of Agenor himself he stood before the feet of Achilles, who
hasted to run upon him and chase him. And while he chased him over the
wheat-bearing plain, edging him toward the deep-eddying river Skamandros, as he
ran but a little in front of him (for by wile Apollo beguiled him that he kept
ever hoping to overtake him in the race), meantime the other Trojans in common
rout came gladly unto their fastness, and the city was filled with the throng
of them. Neither had they heart to await one another outside the city and wall,
and to know who might have escaped and who had perished in the fight, but
impetuously they poured into the city, whomsoever of them his feet and knees
might save.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap22"></a>BOOK XXII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles fought with Hector, and slew him, and brought his body to the
ships.
</p>

<p>
Thus they throughout the city, scared like fawns, were cooling their sweat and
drinking and slaking their thirst, leaning on the fair battlements, while the
Achaians drew near the wall, setting shields to shoulders. But Hector deadly
fate bound to abide in his place, in front of Ilios and the Skaian gates. Then
to the son of Peleus spake Phoebus Apollo: &ldquo;Wherefore, son of Peleus,
pursuest thou me with swift feet, thyself being mortal and I a deathless god?
Thou hast not even yet known me, that I am a god, but strivest vehemently.
Truly thou regardest not thy task among the affliction of the Trojans whom thou
affrightedst, who now are gathered into the city, while thou heat wandered
hither. Me thou wilt never slay, for I am not subject unto death.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then mightily moved spake unto him Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Thou hast
baulked me, Far-darter, most mischievous of all the gods, in that thou hast
turned me hither from the wall: else should full many yet have bitten the dust
or ever within Ilios had they come. Now hast thou robbed me of great renown,
and lightly hast saved them, because thou hadst no vengeance to fear
thereafter. Verily I would avenge me on thee, had I but the power.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying toward the city he was gone in pride of heart, rushing like some
victorious horse in a chariot, that runneth lightly at full speed over the
plain; so swiftly plied Achilles his feet and knees. Him the old man Priam
first beheld as he sped across the plain, blazing as the star that cometh forth
at harvest-time, and plain seen his rays shine forth amid the host of stars in
the darkness of night, the star whose name men call Oriol&rsquo;s Dog.
Brightest of all is he, yet for an evil sign is he set, and bringeth much fever
upon hapless men. Even so on Achilles&rsquo; breast the bronze gleamed as he
ran. And the old man cried aloud and beat upon his head with his hands, raising
them on high, and with a cry called aloud beseeching his dear son; for he
before the gates was standing, all hot for battle with Achilles. And the old
man spake piteously unto him, stretching forth his hands: &ldquo;Hector,
beloved son, I pray thee await not this man alone with none beside thee, lest
thou quickly meet thy doom, slain by the son of Peleus, since he is mightier
far, a merciless man. Would the gods loved him even as do I! then quickly would
dogs and vultures devour him on the field—thereby would cruel pain go from my
heart—the man who hath bereft me of many valiant sons, slaying them and selling
them captive into far-off isles. Ay even now twain of my children, Lykaon and
Polydoros, I cannot see among the Trojans that throng into the fastness, sons
whom Laothoe bare me, a princess among women. If they be yet alive amid the
enemy&rsquo;s host, then will we ransom them with bronze and gold, for there is
store within, for much goods gave the old man famous Altes to his child. If
they be dead, then even in the house of Hades shall they be a sorrow to my soul
and to their mother, even to us who gave them birth, but to the rest of the
folk a briefer sorrow, if but thou die not by Achilles&rsquo; hand. Nay, come
within the wall, my child, that thou preserve the men and women of Troy,
neither give great triumph to the son of Peleus, and be thyself bereft of sweet
life. Have compassion also on me, the helpless one, who still can feel,
ill-fated; whom the father, Kronos&rsquo; son, will bring to naught by a
grievous doom in the path of old age, having seen full many ills, his sons
perishing and his daughters carried away captive, and his chambers laid waste
and infant children hurled to the ground in terrible war, and his sons&rsquo;
wives dragged away by the ruinous hands of the Achaians. Myself then last of
all at the street door will ravening dogs tear, when some one by stroke or
throw of the sharp bronze hath bereft my limbs of life—even the dogs I reared
in my halls about my table and to guard my door, which then having drunk my
blood, maddened at heart shall lie in the gateway. A young man all beseemeth,
even to be slain in war, to be torn by the sharp bronze and lie on the field;
though he be dead yet is all honourable to him, whate&rsquo;er be seen: but
when dogs defile the hoary head and hoary beard of an old man slain, this is
the most piteous thing that cometh upon hapless men.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the old man, and grasped his hoary hairs, plucking them from his
head, but he persuaded not Hector&rsquo;s soul. Then his mother in her turn
wailed tearfully, loosening the folds of her robe, while with the other hand
she showed her breast; and through her tears spake to him winged words:
&ldquo;Hector, my child, have regard unto this bosom and pity me, if ever I
gave thee consolation of my breast. Think of it, dear child, and from this side
the wall drive back the foe, nor stand in front to meet him. He is merciless;
if he slay thee it will not be on a bed that I or thy wife shall bewail thee,
my own dear child, but far away from us by the ships of the Argives will swift
dogs devour thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus they with wailing spake to their dear son, beseeching him sore, yet they
persuaded not Hector&rsquo;s soul, but he stood awaiting Achilles as he drew
nigh in giant might. As a serpent of the mountains upon his den awaiteth a man,
having fed on evil poisons, and fell wrath hath entered into him, and terribly
he glared as he coileth himself about his den, so Hector with courage
unquenchable gave not back, leaning his shining shield against a jutting tower.
Then sore troubled he spake to his great heart: &ldquo;Ay me, if I go within
the gates and walls, Polydamas will be first to bring reproach against me,
since he bade me lead the Trojans to the city during this ruinous night, when
noble Achilles arose. But I regarded him not, yet surely it had been better
far. And now that I have undone the host by my wantonness, I am ashamed before
the men of Troy and women of trailing robes, lest at any time some worse man
than I shall say: &lsquo;Hector by trusting his own might undid the
host.&rsquo; So will they speak; then to me would it be better far to face
Achilles and either slay him and go home, or myself die gloriously before the
city. Or what if I lay down my bossy shield and my stout helm, and lean my
spear against the wall, and go of myself to meet noble Achilles and promise him
that Helen, and with her all possessions that Alexandros brought in hollow
ships to Troy, the beginning of strife, we will give to the Sons of Atreus to
take away, and therewithal to divide in half with the Achaians all else that
this city holdeth: and if thereafter I obtain from the Trojans an oath of the
Elders that they will hide nothing but divide all in twain [whatever wealth the
pleasant city hold within]? But wherefore doth my heart debate thus? I might
come unto him and he would not pity or regard me at all, but presently slay me
unarmed as it were but a woman, if I put off my armour. No time is it now to
dally with him from oaktree or from rock, like youth with maiden, as youth and
maiden hold dalliance one with another. Better is it to join battle with all
speed: let us know upon which of us twain the Olympian shall bestow
renown.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus pondered he as he stood, but nigh on him came Achilles, peer of Enyalios
warrior of the waving helm, brandishing from his right shoulder the Pelian ash,
his terrible spear; and all around the bronze on him flashed like the gleam of
blazing fire or of the Sun as he ariseth. And trembling seized Hector as he was
aware of him, nor endured he to abide in his place, but left the gates behind
him and fled in fear. And the son of Peleus darted after him, trusting in his
swift feet. As a falcon upon the mountains, swiftest of winged things, swoopeth
fleetly after a trembling dove; and she before him fleeth, while he with shrill
screams hard at hand still darteth at her, for his heart urgeth him to seize
her; so Achilles in hot haste flew straight for him, and Hector fled beneath
the Trojans&rsquo; wall, and plied swift knees. They past the watch-place and
wind-waved wild fig-tree sped ever, away from under the wall, along the
waggon-track, and came to the two fair-flowing springs, where two fountains
rise that feed deep-eddying Skamandros. The one floweth with warm water, and
smoke goeth up therefrom around as it were from a blazing fire, while the other
even in summer floweth forth like cold hail or snow or ice that water formeth.
And there beside the springs are broad washing-troughs hard by, fair troughs of
stone, where wives and fair daughters of the men of Troy were wont to wash
bright raiment, in the old time of peace, before the sons of the Achaians came.
Thereby they ran, he flying, he pursuing. Valiant was the flier but far
mightier he who fleetly pursued him. For not for beast of sacrifice or for an
oxhide were they striving, such as are prizes for mel&rsquo;s speed of foot,
but for the life of horse-taming Hector was their race. And as when victorious
whole-hooved horses run rapidly round the turning-points, and some great prize
lieth in sight, be it a tripod or a woman, in honour of a man that is dead, so
thrice around Priam&rsquo;s city circled those twain with flying feet, and all
the gods were gazing on them. Then among them spake first the father of gods
and men: &ldquo;Ay me, a man beloved I see pursued around the wall. My heart is
woe for Hector, who hath burnt for me many thighs of oxen amid the crests of
many-folded Ida, and other times on the city-height; but now is goodly Achilles
pursuing him with swift feet round Priam&rsquo;s town. Come, give your counsel,
gods, and devise whether we shall save him from death or now at last slay him,
valiant though he be, by the hand of Achilles Peleus&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him answered the bright-eyed goddess Athene: &ldquo;O Father, Lord of
the bright lightning and the dark cloud, what is this thou hast said? A man
that is a mortal, doomed long ago by fate, wouldst thou redeem back from
ill-boding death? Do it, but not all we other gods approve.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And unto her in answer spake cloud-gathering Zeus: &ldquo;Be of good cheer,
Trito-born, dear child: not in full earnest speak I, and I would fain be kind
to thee. Do as seemeth good to thy mind, and draw not back.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he roused Athene, that already was set thereon, and from the crests
of Olympus she darted down.
</p>

<p>
But after Hector sped fleet Achilles chasing him vehemently. And as when on the
mountains a hound hunteth the fawn of a deer, having started it from its
covert, through glens and glades, and if it crouch to baffle him under a bush,
yet scenting it out the hound runneth constantly until he find it; so Hector
baffled not Peleus&rsquo; fleet-footed son. Oft as he set himself to dart under
the well-built walls over against the Dardanian gates, if haply from above they
might succour him with darts, so oft would Achilles gain on him and turn him
toward the plain, while himself he sped ever on the city-side. And as in a
dream one faileth in chase of a flying man, the one faileth in his flight and
the other in his chase—so failed Achilles to overtake him in the race, and
Hector to escape. And thus would Hector have avoided the visitation of death,
had not this time been utterly the last wherein Apollo came nigh to him, who
nerved his strength and his swift knees. For to the host did noble Achilles
sign with his head, and forbade them to hurl bitter darts against Hector, lest
any smiting him should gain renown, and he himself come second. But when the
fourth time they had reached the springs, then the Father hung his golden
balances, and set therein two lots of dreary death, one of Achilles, one of
horse-taming Hector, and held them by the midst and poised. Then Hector&rsquo;s
fated day sank down, and fell to the house of Hades, and Phoebus Apollo left
him. But to Peleus&rsquo; son came the bright-eyed goddess Athene, and standing
near spake to him winged words: &ldquo;Now verily, glorious Achilles dear to
Zeus, I have hope that we twain shall carry off great glory to the ships for
the Achaians, having slain Hector, for all his thirst for fight. No longer is
it possible for him to escape us, not even though far-darting Apollo should
travail sore, grovelling before the Father, aegis-bearing Zeus. But do thou now
stand and take breath, and I will go and persuade this man to confront thee in
fight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake Athene, and he obeyed, and was glad at heart, and stood leaning on
his bronze-pointed ashen-spear. And she left him and came to noble Hector, like
unto Deiphobos in shape and in strong voice, and standing near spake to him
winged words: &ldquo;Dear brother, verily fleet Achilles doth thee violence,
chasing thee round Priam&rsquo;s town with swift feet: but come let us make a
stand and await him on our defence.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered her great Hector of the glancing helm: &ldquo;Deiphobos, verily
aforetime wert thou far dearest of my brothers, but now methinks I shall honour
thee even more, in that thou hast dared for my sake, when thou sawest me, to
come forth of the wall, while the others tarry within.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him again spake the bright-eyed goddess Athene: &ldquo;Dear brother, of
a truth my father and lady mother and my comrades around besought me much,
entreating me in turn, to tarry there, so greatly do they all tremble before
him; but my heart within was sore with dismal grief. And now fight we with
straight-set resolve and let there be no sparing of spears, that we may know
whether Achilles is to slay us and carry our bloody spoils to the hollow ships,
or whether he might be vanquished by thy spear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying Athene in her subtlety led him on. And when they were come nigh in
onset on one another, to Achilles first spake great Hector of the glancing
helm: &ldquo;No longer, son of Peleus, will I fly thee, as before I thrice ran
round the great town of Priam, and endured not to await thy onset. Now my heart
biddeth me stand up against thee; I will either slay or be slain. But come
hither and let us pledge us by our gods, for they shall be best witnesses and
beholders of covenants: I will entreat thee in no outrageous sort, if Zeus
grant me to outstay thee, and if I take thy life, but when I have despoiled
thee of thy glorious armour, O Achilles, I will give back thy dead body to the
Achaians, and do thou the same.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But unto him with grim gaze spake Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Hector, talk
not to me, thou madman, of covenants. As between men and lions there is no
pledge of faith, nor wolves and sheep can be of one mind, but imagine evil
continually against each other, so is it impossible for thee and me to be
friends, neither shall be any pledge between us until one or other shall have
fallen and glutted with blood Ares, the stubborn god of war. Bethink thee of
all thy soldiership: now behoveth it thee to quit thee as a good spearman and
valiant man of war. No longer is there way of escape for thee, but Pallas
Athene will straightway subdue thee to my spear; and now in one hour shalt thou
pay back for all my sorrows for my friends whom thou hast slain in the fury of
thy spear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and poised his far-shadowing spear and hurled. And noble Hector
watched the coming thereof and avoided it; for with his eye on it he crouched,
and the bronze spear flew over him, and fixed itself in the earth; but Pallas
Athene caught it up and gave it back to Achilles, unknown of Hector shepherd of
hosts. Then Hector spake unto the noble son of Peleus: &ldquo;Thou hast missed,
so no wise yet, godlike Achilles, has thou known from Zeus the hour of my doom,
though thou thoughtest it. Cunning of tongue art thou and a deceiver in speech,
that fearing thee I might forget my valour and strength. Not as I flee shalt
thou plant thy spear in my reins, but drive it straight through my breast as I
set on thee, if God hath given thee to do it. Now in thy turn avoid my spear of
bronze. O that thou mightst take it all into thy flesh! Then would the war be
lighter to the Trojans, if but thou wert dead, for thou art their greatest
bane.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and poised his long-shadowed spear and hurled it, and smote the midst
of the shield of Peleus&rsquo; son, and missed him not: but far from the shield
the spear leapt back. And Hector was wroth that his swift weapon had left his
hand in vain, and he stood downcast, for he had no second ashen spear. And he
called with a loud shout to Deiphobos of the white shield, and asked of him a
long spear, but he was no wise nigh. Then Hector knew he truth in his heart,
and spake and said: &ldquo;Ay me, now verily the gods have summoned me to
death. I deemed the warrior Deiphobos was by my side, but he is within the
wall, and it was Athene who played me false. Now therefore is evil death come
very nigh me, not far off, nor is there way of escape. This then was from of
old the pleasure of Zeus and of the far-darting son of Zeus, who yet before
were fain to succour me: but now my fate hath found me. At least let me not die
without a struggle or ingloriously, but in some great deed of arms whereof men
yet to be born shall hear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he drew his sharp sword that by his flank hung great and strong,
and gathered himself and swooped like a soaring eagle that darteth to the plain
through the dark clouds to seize a tender lamb or crouching hare. So Hector
swooped, brandishing his sharp sword. And Achilles made at him, for his heart
was filled with wild fierceness, and before his breast he made a covering with
his fair graven shield, and tossed his bright four-plated helm; and round it
waved fair golden plumes [that Hephaistos had set thick about the crest.]. As a
star goeth among stars in the darkness of night, Hesperos, fairest of all stars
set in heaven, so flashed there forth a light from the keen spear Achilles
poised in his right hand, devising mischief against noble Hector, eyeing his
fair flesh to find the fittest place. Now for the rest of him his flesh was
covered by the fair bronze armour he stripped from strong Patroklos when he
slew him, but there was an opening where the collar bones coming from the
shoulders clasp the neck, even at the gullet, where destruction of life cometh
quickliest; there, as he came on, noble Achilles drave at him with his spear,
and right through the tender neck went the point. Yet the bronze-weighted ashen
spear clave not the windpipe, so that he might yet speak words of answer to his
foe. And he fell down in the dust, and noble Achilles spake exultingly:
&ldquo;Hector, thou thoughtest, whilst thou wert spoiling Patroklos, that thou
wouldst be safe, and didst reck nothing of me who was afar, thou fool. But away
among the hollow ships his comrade, a mightier far, even I, was left behind,
who now have unstrung thy knees. Thee shall dogs and birds tear foully, but his
funeral shall the Achaians make.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then with faint breath spake unto him Hector of the glancing helm: &ldquo;I
pray thee by thy life and knees and parents leave me not for dogs of the
Achaians to devour by the ships, but take good store of bronze and gold, gifts
that my father and lady mother shall give to thee, and give them home my body
back again, that the Trojans and Trojans&rsquo; wives give me my due of fire
after my death.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But unto him with grim gaze spake Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Entreat me
not, dog, by knees or parents. Would that my heart&rsquo;s desire could so bid
me myself to carve and eat raw thy flesh, for the evil thou hast wrought me, as
surely is there none that shall keep the dogs from thee, not even should they
bring ten or twenty fold ransom and here weigh it out, and promise even more,
not even were Priam Dardanos&rsquo; son to bid pay thy weight in gold, not even
so shall thy lady mother lay thee on a bed to mourn her son, but dogs and birds
shall devour thee utterly.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then dying spake unto him Hector of the glancing helm: &ldquo;Verily I know
thee and behold thee as thou art, nor was I destined to persuade thee; truly
thy heart is iron in thy breast. Take heed now lest I draw upon thee wrath of
gods, in the day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo slay thee, for all thy valour,
at the Skaian gate.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He ended, and the shadow of death came down upon him, and his soul flew forth
of his limbs and was gone to the house of Hades, wailing her fate, leaving her
vigour and youth. Then to the dead man spake noble Achilles: &ldquo;Die: for my
death, I will accept it whensoever Zeus and the other immortal gods are minded
to accomplish it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and from the corpse drew forth his bronze spear, and set it aside, and
stripped the bloody armour from the shoulders. And other sons of Achaians ran
up around, who gazed upon the stature and marvellous goodliness of Hector. Nor
did any stand by but wounded him, and thus would many a man say looking toward
his neighbour: &ldquo;Go to, of a truth far easier to handle is Hector now than
when he burnt the ships with blazing fire.&rdquo; Thus would many a man say,
and wound him as he stood hard by. And when fleet noble Achilles had despoiled
him, he stood up among the Achaians and spake winged words: &ldquo;Friends,
chiefs and counsellors of the Argives, since the gods have vouchsafed us to
vanquish this man who hath done us more evil than all the rest together, come
let us make trial in arms round about the city, that we may know somewhat of
the Trojans&rsquo; purpose, whether since he hath fallen they will forsake the
citadel, or whether they are minded to abide, albeit Hector is no more. But
wherefore doth my heart debate thus? There lieth by the ships a dead man
unbewailed, unburied, Patroklos; him will I not forget, while I abide among the
living and my knees can stir. Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget
their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade. But come, ye
sons of the Achaians, let us now, singing our song of victory, go back to the
hollow ships and take with us our foe. Great glory have we won; we have slain
the noble Hector, unto whom the Trojans prayed throughout their city, as he had
been a god.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and devised foul entreatment of noble Hector. The tendons of both feet
behind he slit from heel to ankle-joint, and thrust therethrough thongs of
ox-hide, and bound him to his chariot, leaving his head to trail. And when he
had mounted the chariot and lifted therein the famous armour, he lashed his
horses to speed, and they nothing loth flew on. And dust rose around him that
was dragged, and his dark hair flowed loose on either side, and in the dust lay
all his once fair head, for now had Zeus given him over to his foes to entreat
foully in his own native land.
</p>

<p>
Thus was his head all grimed with dust. But his mother when she beheld her son,
tore her hair and cast far from her her shining veil, and cried aloud with an
exceeding bitter cry. And piteously moaned his father, and around them the folk
fell to crying and moaning throughout the town. Most like it seemed as though
all beetling Ilios were burning utterly in fire. Scarcely could the folk keep
back the old man in his hot desire to get him forth of the Dardanian gates. For
he besought them all, casting himself down in the mire, and calling on each man
by his name: &ldquo;Hold, friends, and though you love me leave me to get me
forth of the city alone and go unto the ships of the Achaians. Let me pray this
accursed horror-working man, if haply he may feel shame before his age-fellows
and pity an old man. He also hath a father such as I am, Peleus, who begat and
reared him to be a bane of Trojans—and most of all to me hath he brought woe.
So many sons of mine hath he slain in their flower—yet for all my sorrow for
the rest I mourn them all less than this one alone, for whom my sharp grief
will bring me down to the house of Hades—even Hector. Would that he had died in
my arms; then would we have wept and wailed our fill, his mother who bore him
to her ill hap, and I myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he wailing, and all the men of the city made moan with him. And
among the women of Troy, Hekabe led the wild lament: &ldquo;My child, ah, woe
is me! wherefore should I live in my pain, now thou art dead, who night and day
wert my boast through the city, and blessing to all, both men and women of Troy
throughout the town, who hailed thee as a god, for verily an exceeding glory to
them wert thou in thy life:—now death and fate have overtaken thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing. But Hector&rsquo;s wife knew not as yet, for no true
messenger had come to tell her how her husband abode without the gates, but in
an inner chamber of the lofty house she was weaving a double purple web, and
broidering therein manifold flowers. Then she called to her goodly-haired
handmaids through the house to set a great tripod on the fire, that Hector
might have warm washing when he came home out of the battle fond heart, and was
unaware how, far from all washings, bright-eyed Athene had slain him by the
hand of Achilles. But she heard shrieks and groans from the battlements, and
her limbs reeled, and the shuttle fell from her hands to earth. Then again
among her goodly-haired maids she spake: &ldquo;Come two of ye this way with me
that I may see what deeds are done. It was the voice of my husband&rsquo;s
noble mother that I heard, and in my own breast my heart leapeth to my mouth
and my knees are numbed beneath me: surely some evil thing is at hand against
the children of Priam. Would that such word might never reach my ear! yet
terribly I dread lest noble Achilles have cut off bold Hector from the city by
himself and chased him to the plain and ere this ended his perilous pride that
possessed him, for never would he tarry among the throng of men but ran out
before them far, yielding place to no man in his hardihood.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying she sped through the chamber like one mad, with beating heart, and
with her went her handmaidens. But when she came to the battlements and the
throng of men, she stood still upon the wall and gazed, and beheld him dragged
before the city:—swift horses dragged him recklessly toward the hollow ships of
the Achaians. Then dark night came on her eyes and shrouded her, and she fell
backward and gasped forth her spirit. From off her head she shook the bright
attiring thereof, frontlet and net and woven band, and veil, the veil that
golden Aphrodite gave her on the day when Hector of the glancing helm led her
forth of the house of Eetion, having given bride-gifts untold. And around her
thronged her husband&rsquo;s sisters and his brothers&rsquo; wives, who held
her up among them, distraught even to death. But when at last she came to
herself and her soul returned into her breast, then wailing with deep sobs she
spake among the women of Troy: &ldquo;O Hector, woe is me! to one fate then
were we both born, thou in Troy in the house of Priam, and I in Thebe under
woody Plakos, in the house of Eetion, who reared me from a little one—ill-fated
sire of cruel-fated child. Ah, would he have begotten me not. Now thou to the
house of Hades beneath the secret places of the earth departest, and me in
bitter mourning thou leavest a widow in thy halls: and thy son is but an infant
child—son of unhappy parents, thee and me—nor shalt thou profit him, Hector,
since thou art dead, neither he thee. For even if he escape the Achaians&rsquo;
woful war, yet shall labour and sorrow cleave unto him hereafter, for other men
shall seize his lands. The day of orphanage sundereth a child from his fellows,
and his head is bowed down ever, and his cheeks are wet with tears. And in his
need the child seeketh his father&rsquo;s friends, plucking this one by cloak
and that by coat, and one of them that pity him holdeth his cup a little to his
mouth, and moisteneth his lips, but his palate he moisteneth not. And some
child unorphaned thrusteth him from the feast with blows and taunting words,
&lsquo;Out with thee! no father of thine is at our board.&rsquo; Then weeping
to his widowed mother shall he return, even Astyanax, who erst upon his
father&rsquo;s knee ate only marrow and fat flesh of sheep; and when sleep fell
on him and he ceased from childish play, then in bed in his nurse&rsquo;s arms
he would slumber softly nested, having satisfied his heart with good things;
but now that he hath lost his father he will suffer many ills, Astyanax—that
name the Trojans gave him, because thou only wet the defence of their gates and
their long walls. But now by the beaked ships, far from thy parents, shall
coiling worms devour thee when the dogs have had their fill, as thou liest
naked; yet in these halls lieth raiment of thine, delicate and fair, wrought by
the hands of women. But verily all these will I consume with burning fire—to
thee no profit, since thou wilt never lie therein, yet that his be honour to
thee from the men and the women of Troy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and the women joined their moan.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap23"></a>BOOK XXIII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
Of the funeral of Patroklos, and the funeral games.
</p>

<p>
Thus they throughout the city made moan: but the Achaians when they were come
to the ships and to the Hellespont were scattered each to his own ship: only
the Myrmidons Achilles suffered not to be scattered, but spake among his
comrades whose delight was in war: &ldquo;Fleet-horsed Myrmidons, my trusty
comrades, let us not yet unyoke our whole-hooved steeds from their cars, but
with horses and chariots let us go near and mourn Patroklos, for such is the
honour of the dead. Then when we have our fill of grievous wailing, we will
unyoke the horses and all sup here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and they with one accord made lamentation, and Achilles led their
mourning. So thrice around the dead they drave their well-maned steeds,
moaning; and Thetis stirred among them desire of wailing. Bedewed were the
sands with tears, bedewed the warriors&rsquo; arms; so great a lord of fear
they sorrowed for. And Peleus&rsquo; son led their loud wail, laying his
man-slaying hands on his comrade&rsquo;s breast: &ldquo;All hail, Patroklos,
even in the house of Hades; for all that I promised thee before am I
accomplishing, seeing I have dragged hither Hector to give raw unto dogs to
devour, and twelve noble children of the Trojans to slaughter before thy pyre,
because of mine anger at thy slaying.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and devised foul entreatment of noble Hector, stretching him prone in
the dust beside the bier of Menoitios&rsquo; son. And the rest put off each his
glittering bronze arms, and unyoked their high-neighing horses, and sate them
down numberless beside the ship of fleet-footed Aiakides, and he gave them
ample funeral feast. Many sleek oxen were stretched out, their throats cut with
steel, and many sheep and bleating goats, and many white-tusked boars well
grown in fat were spitted to singe in the flame of Hephaistos; so on all sides
round the corpse in cupfuls blood was flowing.
</p>

<p>
But the fleet-footed prince, the son of Peleus, was brought to noble Agamemnon
by the Achaian chiefs, hardly persuading him thereto, for his heart was wroth
for his comrade. And when they were come to Agamemnol&rsquo;s hut, forthwith
they bade clear-voiced heralds set a great tripod on the fire, if haply they
might persuade the son of Peleus to wash from him the bloody gore. But he
denied them steadfastly, and sware moreover an oath: &ldquo;Nay, verily by
Zeus, who is highest and best of gods, not lawful is it that water should come
nigh my head or ever I shall have laid Patroklos on the fire, and heaped a
barrow, and shaved my hair, since never again shall second grief thus reach my
heart, while I remain among the living. Yet now for the present let us yield us
to our mournful meal: but with the morning, O king of men Agamemnon, rouse the
folk to bring wood and furnish all that it beseemeth a dead man to have when he
goeth beneath the misty gloom, to the end that untiring fire may burn him
quickly from sight, and the host betake them to their work.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they listened readily to him and obeyed, and eagerly making
ready each his meal they supped, and no lack had their soul of equal feast. But
when they had put off from them the desire of meat and drink, the rest went
down each man to his tent to take his rest, but the son of Peleus upon the
beach of the sounding sea lay groaning heavily, amid the host of Myrmidons, in
an open place, where waves were breaking on the shore. Now when sleep took hold
on him, easing the cares of his heart, deep sleep that fell about him, (for
sore tired were his glorious knees with onset upon Hector toward windy Ilios),
then came there unto him the spirit of hapless Patroklos, in all things like
his living self, in stature, and fair eyes, and voice, and the raiment of his
body was the same; and he stood above Achilles&rsquo; head and spake to him:
&ldquo;Thou sleepest, and hast forgotten me, O Achilles. Not in my life wast
thou ever unmindful of me, but in my death. Bury me with all speed, that I pass
the gates of Hades. Far off the spirits banish me, the phantoms of men outworn,
nor suffer me to mingle with them beyond the River, but vainly I wander along
the wide-gated dwelling of Hades. Now give me, I pray pitifully of thee, thy
hand, for never more again shall I come back from Hades, when ye have given me
my due of fire. Never among the living shall we sit apart from our dear
comrades and take counsel together, but me hath the harsh fate swallowed up
which was appointed me even from my birth. Yea and thou too thyself, Achilles
peer of gods, beneath the wall of the noble Trojans art doomed to die. Yet one
thing will I say, and charge thee, if haply thou wilt have regard thereto. Lay
not my bones apart from thine, Achilles, but together, even as we were nurtured
in your house, when Menoitios brought me yet a little one from Opoeis to your
country by reason of a grievous man-slaying, on the day when I slew
Amphidamas&rsquo; son, not willing it, in childish wrath over the dice. Then
took me the knight Peleus into his house and reared me kindly and named me thy
squire: so therefore let one coffer hide our bones [a golden coffer, two
handled, thy lady mother&rsquo;s gift].&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then made answer unto him Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Wherefore, O my
brother, hast thou come hither, and chargest me everything that I should do?
Verily I will accomplish all, and have regard unto thy bidding. But stand more
nigh me; for one moment let us throw our arms around each other, and take our
fill of dolorous lament.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spake, and reached forth with his hands, but clasped him not; for like a
vapour the spirit was gone beneath the earth with a faint shriek. And Achilles
sprang up marvelling, and smote his hands together, and spake a word of woe:
&ldquo;Ay me, there remaineth then even in the house of Hades a spirit and
phantom of the dead, albeit the life be not anywise therein: for all night long
hath the spirit of hapless Patroklos stood over me, wailing and making moan,
and charged me everything that I should do, and wondrous like his living self
it seemed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said he, and stirred in all of them yearning to make lament; and
rosy-fingered Morn shone forth on them while they still made moan around the
piteous corpse. Then lord Agamemnon sped mules and men from all the huts to
fetch wood; and a man of valour watched thereover, even Meriones, squire of
kindly Idomeneus. And they went forth with wood-cutting axes in their hands and
well-woven ropes, and before them went the mules, and uphill and downhill and
sideways and across they went. But when they came to the spurs of
many-fountained Ida, straightway they set them lustily to hew high-foliaged
oaks with the long-edged bronze, and with loud noise fell the trees. Then
splitting them asunder the Achaians bound them behind the mules, and they tore
up the earth with their feet as they made for the plain through the thick
underwood. And all the wood-cutters bare logs; for thus bade Meriones, squire
of kindly Idomeneus. And on the Shore they threw them down in line, where
Achilles purposed a mighty tomb for Patroklos and for himself.
</p>

<p>
Then when they had laid down all about great piles of wood, they sate them down
all together and abode. Then straightway Achilles bade the warlike Myrmidons
gird on their arms and each yoke the horses to his chariot; and they arose and
put their armour on, and mounted their chariots, both fighting men and
charioteers. In front were the men in chariots, and a cloud of footmen followed
after, numberless; and in the midst his comrades bare Patroklos. And they
heaped all the corpse with their hair that they cut off and threw thereon; and
behind did goodly Achilles bear the head, sorrowing; for a noble comrade was he
speeding forth unto the realm of Hades.
</p>

<p>
And when they came to the place where Achilles had bidden them, they set down
the dead, and piled for him abundant wood. Then fleet-footed noble Achilles
bethought him of one thing more: standing apart from the pyre he shore off a
golden lock, the lock whose growth he nursed to offer unto the River
Spercheios, and sore troubled spake be, looking forth over the wine-dark sea:
&ldquo;Spercheios, in other wise vowed my father Peleus unto thee that I
returning thither to my native land should shear my hair for thee and offer a
holy hecatomb, and fifty rams should sacrifice there above thy springs, where
is the sacred close and altar burning spice. So vowed the old man, but thou
hast not accomplished him his desire. And now since I return not to my dear
native land, unto the hero Patroklos I may give this hair to take away.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he set the hair in the hands of his dear comrade, and stirred in
all of them yearning to make lament. And so would the light of the sun have
gone down on their lamentation, had not Achilles said quickly to Agamemnon as
he stood beside him: &ldquo;Son of Atreus—for to thy words most will the host
of the Achaians have regard—of lamentation they may sate them to the full. But
now disperse them from the burning and bid them make ready their meal, and we
to whom the dead is dearest will take pains for these things; yet let the
chiefs tarry nigh unto us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then when Agamemnon king of men heard that, he forthwith dispersed the host
among the trim ships, but the nearest to the dead tarried there and piled the
wood, and made a pyre a hundred feet this way and that, and on the pyre&rsquo;s
top set the corpse, with anguish at their hearts. And many lusty sheep and
shambling crook-horned oxen they flayed and made ready before the pyre; and
taking from all of them the fat, great hearted Achilles wrapped the corpse
therein from head to foot, and heaped the flayed bodies round. And he set
therein two-handled jars of honey and oil, leaning them against the bier; and
four strong-necked horses he threw swiftly on the pyre, and groaned aloud. Nine
house-dogs had the dead chief: of them did Achilles slay twain and throw them
on the pyre. And twelve valiant sons of great-hearted Trojans he slew with the
sword—for he devised mischief in his heart and he set to the merciless might of
the fire, to feed thereon. Then moaned he aloud, and called on his dear comrade
by his name: &ldquo;All hail to thee, O Patroklos, even in the house of Hades,
for all that I promised thee before am I now accomplishing. Twelve valiant sons
of great-hearted Trojans, behold these all in company with thee the fire
devoureth: but Hector son of Priam will I nowise give to the fire to feed upon,
but to dogs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he threatening, but no dogs might deal with Hector, for day and
night Aphrodite daughter of Zeus kept off the dogs, and anointed him with
rose-sweet oil ambrosial that Achilles might not tear him when he dragged him.
And over him Phoebus Apollo brought a dark cloud from heaven to earth and
covered all that place whereon the dead man lay, lest meanwhile the sul&rsquo;s
strength shrivel his flesh round about upon his sinews and limbs.
</p>

<p>
But the pyre of dead Patroklos kindled not. Then fleet-footed noble Achilles
had a further thought: standing aside from the pyre he prayed to the two Winds
of North and West, and promised them fair offerings, and pouring large
libations from a golden cup besought them to come, that the corpses might blaze
up speedily in the fire, and the wood make haste to be enkindled. Then Iris,
when she heard his prayer, went swiftly with the message to the Winds. They
within the house of the gusty West Wind were feasting all together at meat,
when Iris sped thither, and halted on the threshold of stone. And when they saw
her with their eyes, they sprang up and called to her every one to sit by him.
But she refused to sit, and spake her word: &ldquo;No seat for me; I must go
back to the streams of Ocean, to the Ethiopians&rsquo; land where they
sacrifice hecatombs to the immortal gods, that I too may feast at their rites.
But Achilles is praying the North Wind and the loud West to come, and promising
them fair offerings, that ye may make the pyre be kindled whereon lieth
Patroklos, for whom all the Achaians are making moan.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She having thus said departed, and they arose with a mighty sound, rolling the
clouds before them. And swiftly they came blowing over the sea, and the wave
rose beneath their shrill blast; and they came to deep-soiled Troy, and fell
upon the pile, and loudly roared the mighty fire. So all night drave they the
flame of the pyre together, blowing shrill; and all night fleet Achilles,
holding a two-handled cup, drew wine from a golden bowl, and poured it forth
and drenched the earth, calling upon the spirit of hapless Patroklos. As a
father waileth when he burneth the bones of his son, new-married, whose death
is woe to his hapless parents, so wailed Achilles as he burnt the bones of his
comrade, going heavily round the burning pile, with many moans.
</p>

<p>
But at the hour when the Morning star goeth forth to herald light upon the
earth, the star that saffron-mantled Dawn cometh after, and spreadeth over the
salt sea, then grew the burning faint, and the flame died down. And the Winds
went back again to betake them home over the Thracian main, and it roared with
a violent swell. Then the son of Peleus turned away from the burning and lay
down wearied, and sweet sleep leapt on him. But they who were with
Atreus&rsquo; son gathered all together, and the noise and clash of their
approach aroused him; and he sate upright and spake a word to them: &ldquo;Son
of Atreus and ye other chiefs of the Achaians, first quench with gleaming wine
all the burning so far as the fire&rsquo;s strength hath reached, and then let
us gather up the bones of Patroklos, Menoitios&rsquo; son, singling them well,
and easy are they to discern, for he lay in the middle of the pyre, while the
rest apart at the edge burnt-confusedly, horses and men. And his bones let us
put within a golden urn, and double-folded fat, until that I myself be hidden
in Hades. But no huge barrow I bid you toil to raise—a seemly one, no more:
then afterward do ye Achaians build it broad and high, whosoever of you after I
am gone may be left in the benched ships.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they hearkened to the fleet-footed son of Peleus. First
quenched they with gleaming wine the burning so far as the flame went, and the
ash had settled deep: then with lamentation they gathered up the white bones of
their gentle comrade into a golden urn and double-folded fat, and placed the
urn in the hut and covered it with a linen veil. And they marked the circle of
the barrow, and set the foundations thereof around the pyre, and straightway
heaped thereon a heap of earth. Then when they had heaped up the barrow they
were for going back. But Achilles stayed the folk in that place, and made them
sit in wide assembly, and from his ships he brought forth prizes, caldrons and
tripods, and horses and mules and strong oxen, and fair-girdled women, and grey
iron.
</p>

<p>
First for fleet chariot-racers he ordained a noble prize, a woman skilled in
fair handiwork for the winner to lead home, and an eared tripod that held
two-and-twenty measures; these for the first man; and for the second he
ordained a six-year-old mare unbroke with a mule foal in her womb; and for the
third he gave a goodly caldron yet untouched by fire, holding four measures,
bright as when first made; and for the fourth he ordained two talents of gold;
and for the fifth a two-handled urn untouched of fire, Then he stood up and
spake a word among the Argives: &ldquo;Son of Atreus and ye other well-greaved
Achaians, for the chariot-racers these prizes lie awaiting them in the lists.
If in some other&rsquo;s honour we Achaians were now holding our games, it
would be I who should win the first prize and bear it to my hut; for ye know
how far my pair of horses are first in excellence, for they are immortal and
Poseidon gave them to my father Peleus, and he again to me. But verily I will
abide, I and my whole-hooved horses, so glorious a charioteer have they lost,
and one so kind, who on their manes full often poured smooth oil, when he had
washed them in clear water. For him they stand and mourn, and their manes are
trailing on the ground, and there stand they with sorrow at their hearts. But
ye others throughout the host get ye to your places, whosoever of the Achalans
hath trust in his horses and firm-jointed car.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the son of Peleus, and the fleet chariot-racers were gathered. First
of all arose up Eumelos king of men, Admetos&rsquo; son, a skilful charioteer;
and next to him arose Tydeus&rsquo; son, valiant Diomedes, and yoked his horses
of the breed of Tros, which on a time he seized from Aineias, when Apollo saved
their lord. And after him arose Atreus&rsquo; son, fair-haired heaven-sprung
Menelaos, and yoked him a swift pair Aithe, Agamemnol&rsquo;s mare, and his own
horse Podargos. Her unto Agamemnon did Anchises&rsquo; son Echepolos give in
fee, that he might escape from following him to windy Ilios and take his
pleasure at home; for great wealth had Zeus given him, and he dwelt in Sikyon
of spacious lawns:— so Menelaos yoked her, and she longed exceedingly for the
race. And fourth, Antilochos made ready his fair-maned horses, even the noble
son of Nestor, high-hearted king, who was the son of Neleus; and fleet horses
bred at Pylos drew his car. And his father standing by his side spake
counselling him to his profit, though himself was well advised:
&ldquo;Antilochos, verily albeit thou art young, Zeus and Poseidon have loved
thee and taught thee all skill with horses; wherefore to teach thee is no great
need, for thou well knowest how to wheel round the post; yet are thy horses
very slow in the race: therefore methinks there will be sad work for thee. For
the horses of the others are fleeter, yet the men know not more cunning than
thou hast. So come, dear son, store thy mind with all manner of cunning, that
the prize escape thee not. By cunning is a woodman far better than by force; by
cunning doth a helmsman on the wine-dark deep steer his swift ship buffeted by
winds; by cunning hath charioteer the better of charioteer. For whoso trusting
in his horses and car alone wheeleth heedlessly and wide at either end, his
horses swerve on the course, and he keepeth them not in hand. But whoso is of
crafty mind, though he drive worse horses, he ever keeping his eye upon the
post turneth closely by it, neither is unaware how far at first to force his
horses by the ox-hide reins, but holdeth them safe in hand and watcheth the
leader in the race. Now will I tell thee a certain sign, and it shall not
escape thee. A fathom&rsquo;s height above the ground standeth a withered
stump, whether of oak or pine: it decayeth not in the rain, and two white
stones on either side thereof are fixed at the joining of the track, and all
round it is smooth driving ground. Whether it be a monument of some man dead
long ago, or have been made their goal in the race by ancient men, this now is
the mark fixed by fleet-footed Achilles. Wherefore do thou drive close and bear
thy horses and chariot hard thereon, and lean thy body on the well-knit car
slightly to their left, and call upon the off-horse with voice and lash, and
give him rein from thy hand. But let the near horse hug the post so that the
nave of the well-wrought wheel seem to graze it—yet beware of touching the
stone, lest thou wound the horses and break the chariot; so would that be
triumph to the rest and reproach unto thyself. But, dear son, be wise and on
thy guard; for if at the turning-post thou drive past the rest, there is none
shall overtake thee from behind or pass thee by, not though he drave the goodly
Arion in pursuit, the fleet horse of Adrastos, of divine descent, or the horses
of Laomedon, best of all bred in this land.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake Neleian Nestor and sate him down again in his place, when he had
told his son the sum of every matter.
</p>

<p>
And Meriones was the fifth to make ready his sleek-coated steeds. Then went
they up into their chariots, and cast in the lots: and Achilles shook them, and
forth leapt the lot of Antilochos Nestor&rsquo;s son, and the next lot had lord
Eumelos, and next to him the son of Atreus, spear-famed Menelaos, and next to
him drew Meriones his place; then lastly Tydeides, far the best of all, drew
his lot for his chariot&rsquo;s place. Then they stood side by side, and
Achilles showed to them the turning post, far off in the smooth plain; and
beside it he placed an umpire, godlike Phoinix, his father&rsquo;s follower,
that he might note the running and tell the truth thereof.
</p>

<p>
Then all together lifted the lash above their steeds, and smote them with the
reins, and called on them eagerly with words: and they forthwith sped swiftly
over the plain, leaving the ships behind; and beneath their breasts stood the
rising dust like a cloud or whirlwind, and their manes waved on the blowing
wind. And the chariots ran sometimes on the bounteous earth, and other whiles
would bound into the air. And the drivers stood in the cars, and the heart of
every man beat in desire of victory, and they called every man to his horses,
that flew amid their dust across the plain.
</p>

<p>
But when the fleet horses were now running the last part of the course, back
toward the grey sea, then was manifest the prowess of each, and the horses
strained in the race; and presently to the front rushed the fleet mares of
Pheres&rsquo; grandson, and next to them Diomedes&rsquo; stallions of the breed
of Tros, not far apart, but hard anigh, for they seemed ever as they would
mount Eumelos&rsquo; car, and with their breath his back was warm and his broad
shoulders, for they bent their heads upon him as they flew along. Thus would
Tydeus&rsquo; son have either outstripped the other or made it a dead heat, had
not Phoebus Apollo been wroth with him and smitten from his hand the shining
lash. Then from his eyes ran tears of anger, for that he saw the mares still at
speed, even swiftlier than before, while his own horses were thrown out, as
running without spur. But Athene was not unaware of Apollo&rsquo;s guile
against Tydeides, and presently sped after the shepherd of hosts, and gave him
back the lash, and put spirit into his steeds. Then in wrath after the son of
Admetos was the goddess gone, and brake his steeds&rsquo; yoke, and the mares
ran sideways off the course, and the pole was twisted to the ground. And
Eumelos was hurled out of the car beside the wheel, and his elbows and mouth
and nose were flayed, and his forehead bruised above his eyebrows; and his eyes
filled with tears and his lusty voice was choked. Then Tydeides held his
whole-hooved horses on one side, darting far out before the rest, for Athene
put spirit into his steeds and shed glory on himself. Now next after him came
golden-haired Menelaos Atreus&rsquo; son. But Antilochos called to his
father&rsquo;s horses: &ldquo;Go ye too in, strain to your fleetest pace. Truly
I nowise bid you strive with those, the horses of wise Tydeides, unto which
Athene hath now given speed, and shed glory on their charioteer. But overtake
Atreides&rsquo; horses with all haste, and be not outstripped by them, lest
Aithe that is but a mare pour scorn on you. Why are ye outstripped, brave
steeds? Thus will I tell you, and verily it shall be brought to pass—ye will
find no tendance with Nestor shepherd of hosts, but straightway he will slay
you with the edge of the sword if through heedlessness we win but the worse
prize. Have after them at your utmost speed, and I for my part will devise a
plan to pass them in the strait part of the course, and this shall fail me
not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they fearing the voice of the prince ran swiftlier some
little while; and presently did the good warrior Antilochos espy a strait place
in a sunk part of the way. There was a rift in the earth, where torrent water
gathered and brake part of the track away, and hollowed all the place; there
drave Menelaos, shunning the encounter of the wheels. But Antilochos turned his
whole-hooved horses out of the track, and followed him a little at one side.
And the son of Atreus took alarm and shouted to Antilochos: &ldquo;Antilochos,
thou art driving recklessly—hold in thy horses! The road is straitened, soon
thou mayest pass me in a wider place, lest thou foul my chariot and undo us
both.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, but Antilochos drave even fiercelier than before, plying his
lash, as though he heard him not. As far as is the range of a disk swung from
the shoulder when a young man hurleth it, making trial of his force, even so
far ran they on; then the mares of Atreus&rsquo; son gave back, for he ceased
of himself to urge them on, lest the whole-hooved steeds should encounter on
the track, and overset the well-knit cars, and the drivers fall in the dust in
their zeal for victory. So upbraiding Antilochos spake golden-haired Menelaos:
&ldquo;Antilochos, no mortal man is more malicious than thou. Go thy mad way,
since falsely have we Achaians called thee wise. Yet even so thou shalt not
bear off the prize unchallenged to an oath.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he called aloud to his horses: &ldquo;Hold ye not back nor stand
still with sorrow at heart. Their feet and knees will grow weary before yours,
for they both lack youth.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they fearing the voice of the prince sped faster on, and
were quickly close upon the others.
</p>

<p>
Now the Argives sitting in concourse were gazing at the horses, and they came
flying amid their dust over the plain. And the first aware of them was
Idomeneus, chief of the Cretans, for he was sitting outside the concourse in
the highest place of view, and when he heard the voice of one that shouted,
though afar off, he knew it; and he was aware of a horse showing plainly in the
front, a chestnut all the rest of him, but in the forehead marked with a white
star round like the moon. And he stood upright and spoke among the Argives:
&ldquo;Friends, chiefs, and counsellors of the Argives, is it I alone who see
the horses, or do ye also? A new pair seem to me now to be in front, and a new
charioteer appeareth; the mares which led in the outward course must have been
thrown out there in the plain. For I saw them turning first the hither post,
but now can see them nowhere, though my eyes are gazing everywhere along the
Trojan plain. Did the reins escape the charioteer so that he could not drive
aright round the post and failed in the turn? There, methinks, must he have
been cast forth, and have broken his chariot, and the mares must have left the
course, in the wildness of their heart. But stand up ye too and look, for
myself I discern not certainly, but the first man seemeth to me one of Aitolian
race, and he ruleth among Argives, the son of horse-taming Tydeus, stalwart
Diomedes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then fleet Aias Oileus&rsquo; son rebuked him in unseemly sort:
&ldquo;Idomeneus, why art thou a braggart of old? As yet far off the
high-stepping mares are coursing over the wide plain. Neither art thou so far
the youngest among the Argives, nor do thy eyes look so far the keenliest from
thy head, yet continually braggest thou. It beseemeth thee not to be a
braggart, for there are here better men. And the mares leading are they that
led before, Eumelos&rsquo; mares, and he standeth and holdeth the reins within
the car.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then wrathfully in answer spake the chief of Cretans: &ldquo;Aias, master of
railing, ill-counselled, in all else art thou behind other Argives, for thy
mind is unfriendly. Come then let us wager a tripod or caldron, and make
Agamemnon Atreus&rsquo; son our umpire, which mares are leading, that thou
mayest pay and learn.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said he, and straightway fleet Aias Oileus&rsquo; son arose angrily to
answer with harsh words: and strife between the twain would have gone further,
had not Achilles himself stood up and spake a word: &ldquo;No longer answer
each other with harsh words, Aias and Idomeneus, ill words, for it beseemeth
not. Surely ye are displeased with any other who should do thus. Sit ye in the
concourse and keep your eyes upon the horses; soon they in zeal for victory
will come hither, and then shall ye know each of you the Argives&rsquo; horses,
which follow, and which lead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and the son of Tydeus came driving up, and with his lash smote now and
again from the shoulder, and his horses were stepping high as they sped swiftly
on their way. And sprinklings of dust smote ever the charioteer, and his
chariot overlaid with gold and tin ran behind his fleet-footed steeds, and
small trace was there of the wheel-tires behind in the fine dust, as they flew
speeding on. Then he drew up in the mid concourse, and much sweat poured from
the horses&rsquo; heads and chests to the ground. And Diomedes leapt to earth
from the shining car, and leant his lash against the yoke. Then stalwart
Sthenelos tarried not, but promptly took the prize, and gave to his proud
comrades the woman to lead and the eared tripod to bear away, and he loosed the
horses from the yoke.
</p>

<p>
And next after him drave Neleian Antilochos his horses, by craft, not
swiftness, having passed by Menelaos; yet even now Menelaos held his swift
steeds hard anigh. As far as a horse is from the wheel, which draweth his
master, straining with the car over the plain—his hindmost tail-hairs touch the
tire, for the wheel runneth hard anigh nor is much space between, as he
speedeth far over the plain—by so much was Menelaos behind high-born
Antilochos, howbeit at first he was a whole disk-cast behind, but quickly he
was catching Antilochos up, for the high mettle of Agamemnol&rsquo;s mare,
sleek-coated Aithe, was rising in her. And if yet further both had had to run
he would have passed his rival nor left it even a dead heat. But Meriones,
stout squire of Idomeneus, came in a spear-throw behind famous Menelaos, for
tardiest of all were his sleek-coated horses, and slowest he himself to drive a
chariot in the race. Last of them all came Admetos&rsquo; son, dragging his
goodly car driving his steeds in front. Him when fleet-footed noble Achilles
beheld he pitied him, and he stood up and spake winged words among the Argives:
&ldquo;Last driveth his whole-hooved horses the best man of them all. But come
let us give him a prize, as is seemly, prize for the second place, but the
first let the son of Tydeus take.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and all applauded that he bade. And he would have given him the
mare, for the Achaians applauded, had not Antilochos, son of great-hearted
Nestor; risen up and answered Peleian Achilles on behalf of his right: &ldquo;O
Achilles, I shall be sore angered with thee if thou accomplish this word, for
thou art minded to take away my prize, because thou thinkest of how his chariot
and fleet steeds miscarried, and himself withal, good man though he be. Nay, it
behoved him to pray to the Immortals, then would he not have come in last of
all in the race. But if thou pitiest him and he be dear to thy heart, there is
much gold in thy hut, bronze is there and sheep, hand-maids are there and
whole-hooved horses. Thereof take thou and give unto him afterward even a
richer prize, or even now at once, that the Achaians may applaud thee. But the
mare I will not yield; for her let what man will essay the battle at my
hands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and fleet-footed noble Achilles smiled, pleased with Antilochos,
for he was his dear comrade; and spake in answer to him winged words:
&ldquo;Antilochos, if thou wouldst have me give Eumelos some other thing beside
from out my house, that also will I do. I will give unto him a breast-plate
that I took from Asteropaios, of bronze, whereon a casting of bright tin is
overlaid, and of great worth will it be to him.&rdquo; He said, and bade his
dear comrade Automedon bring it from the hut, and he went and brought it. [Then
he placed it in Eumelos&rsquo; hands, and he received it gladly.]
</p>

<p>
But Menelaos also arose among them, sore at heart, angered exceedingly against
Antilochos; and the herald set the staff in his hand, and called for silence
among the Argives; then spake among them that godlike man: &ldquo;Antilochos,
who once wert wise, what thing is this thou hast done? Thou hast shamed my
skill and made my horses fail, thrusting thine own in front that are far worse.
Come now, ye chiefs and counsellors of the Argives, give judgment between us
both, and favour neither: lest some one of the mail-clad Achalans say at any
time: &lsquo;By constraining Antilochos through false words hath Menelaos gone
off with the mare, for his horses were far worse, howbeit he hath advantage in
rank and power.&rsquo; Nay, I myself will bring the issue about, and I deem
that none other of the Danaans shall reproach me, for the trial shall be just.
Antilochos, fosterling of Zeus, come thou hither and as it is ordained stand up
before thy horses and chariot and take in thy hand the pliant lash wherewith
thou dravest erst, and touching thy horses swear by the Enfolder and Shaker of
the earth that not wilfully didst thou hinder my chariot by guile.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered him wise Antilochos: &ldquo;Bear with me now, for far younger am
I than thou, king Menelaos, and thou art before me and my better. Thou knowest
how a young mal&rsquo;s transgressions come about, for his mind is hastier and
his counsel shallow. So let thy heart suffer me, and I will of myself give to
thee the mare I have taken. Yea, if thou shouldst ask some other greater thing
from my house, I were fain to give it thee straightway, rather than fall for
ever from my place in thy heart, O fosterling of Zeus, and become a sinner
against the gods.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake great-hearted Nestor&rsquo;s son, and brought the mare and put her
in the hand of Menelaos. And his heart was gladdened as when the dew cometh
upon the ears of ripening harvest-corn, what time the fields are bristling. So
gladdened was thy soul, Menelaos, within thy heart. And he spake unto
Antilochos and uttered winged words: &ldquo;Antilochos, now will I of myself
put away mine anger against thee, since no wise formerly wert thou flighty or
light-minded, howbeit now thy reason was overcome of youthfulness. Another time
be loth to outwit better men. Not easily should another of the Achaians have
persuaded me, but thou hast suffered and toiled greatly, and thy brave father
and brother, for my sake: therefore will I hearken to thy prayer, and will even
give unto thee the mare, though she is mine, that these also may know that my
heart was never overweening or implacable.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and gave the mare to Noemon Antilochos&rsquo; comrade to lead away,
and then took the shining caldron. And Meriones took up the two talents of gold
in the fourth place, as he had come in. So the fifth prize was left unclaimed,
a two-handled cup; to Nester gave Achilles this, bearing it to him through the
concourse of Argives, and stood by him and said: &ldquo;Lo now for thee too,
old man, be this a treasure, a memorial of Patroklos&rsquo; burying; for no
more shalt thou behold him among the Argives. Now give I thee this prize unwon,
for not in boxing shalt thou strive, neither wrestle, nor enter on the javelin
match, nor race with thy feet; for grim old age already weigheth on
thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he placed it in his hand, and Nestor received it gladly, and spake
unto him winged words: &ldquo;Ay, truly all this, my son, thou hast meetly
said; for no longer are my limbs, friend, firm, nor my feet, nor do my arms at
all swing lightly from my shoulders either side. Would that my youth were such
and my force so firm as when the Epeians were burying lord Amarynkes at
Buprasion, and his sons held the king&rsquo;s funeral games. Then was no man
found like me, neither of the Epeians nor of the Pylians themselves or the
great-hearted Aitolians. In boxing I overcame Klytomedes, son of Enops, and in
wrestling Ankaios of Pleuron, who stood up against me, and in the foot-race I
outran Iphiklos, a right good man, and with the spear outthrew Phyleus and
Polydoros; only in the chariot-race the two sons of Aktor beat me [by crowding
their horses in front of me, jealous for victory, because the chief prizes were
left at home.] Now they were twins—one ever held the reins, the reins he ever
held, the other called on the horses with the lash. Thus was I once, but now
let younger men join in such feats; I must bend to grievous age, but then was I
of mark among heroes. But come hold funeral for thy comrade too with with
games. This gift do I accept with gladness, and my heart rejoiceth that thou
rememberest ever my friendship to thee—(nor forget I thee)—and the honour
wherewith it is meet that I be honoured among the Achaians. And may the gods
for this grant thee due grace.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Peleides was gone down the full concourse of Achaians, when
he had hearkened to all the thanks of Neleus&rsquo; son. Then he ordained
prizes of the violent boxing match; a sturdy mule he led forth and tethered
amid the assembly, a six-year mule unbroken, hardest of all to break; and for
the loser set a two-handled cup. Then he stood up and spake a word among the
Argives: &ldquo;Son of Atreus and ye other well-greaved Achaians, for these
rewards we summon two men of the best to lift up their hands to box amain. He
to whom Apollo shall grant endurance to the end, and all the Achaians
acknowledge it, let him take the sturdy mule and return with her to his hut;
and the loser shall take with him the two-handled-cup.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and forthwith arose a man great and valiant and skilled in
boxing, Epeios son of Panopeus, and laid his hand on the sturdy mule and said
aloud: &ldquo;Let one come nigh to bear off the two-handled cup; the mule I say
none other of the Achaians shall take for victory with his fists, for I claim
to be the best man here. Sufficeth it not that I fall short of you in battle?
Not possible is it that in all arts a man be skilled. Thus proclaim I, and it
shall be accomplished: I will utterly bruise mine adversary&rsquo;s flesh and
break his bones, so let his friends abide together here to bear him forth when
vanquished by my hands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they all kept deep silence. And alone arose against him
Euryalos, a godlike man, son of king Mekisteus the son of Talaos, Mekisteus,
who came on a time to Thebes when Oedipus had fallen, to his burial, and there
he overcame all the sons of Kadmos. Thus Tydeides famous with the spear made
ready Euryalos for the fight, cheering him with speech, and greatly desired for
him victory. And first he cast about him a girdle, and next gave him well-cut
thongs of the hide of an ox of the field. And the two boxers being girt went
into the midst of the ring, and both lifting up their stalwart hands fell to,
and their hands joined battle grievously. Then was there terrible grinding of
teeth, and sweat flowed from all their limbs. And noble Epeios came on, and as
the other spied for an opening, smote him on the cheek, nor could he much more
stand, for his limbs failed straightway under him. And as when beneath the
North Wind&rsquo;s ripple a fish leapeth on a tangle-covered beach, and then
the black wave hideth it, so leapt up Euryalos at that blow. But great-hearted
Epeios took him in his hands and set him upright, and his dear comrades stood
around him, and led him through the ring with trailing feet, spitting out
clotted blood, drooping his head awry, and they set him down in his swoon among
them and themselves went forth and fetched the two-handled cup.
</p>

<p>
Then Peleus&rsquo; son ordained straightway the prizes for a third contest,
offering them to the Danaans, for the grievous wrestling match: for the winner
a great tripod for standing on the fire, prized by the Achaians among them at
twelve oxens&rsquo; worth; and for the loser he brought a woman into the midst,
skilled in manifold work, and they prized her at four oxen. And he stood up and
spake a word among the Argives: &ldquo;Rise, ye who will essay this
match.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus said he, and there arose great Aias son of Telamon, and Odysseus of many
wiles stood up, the crafty-minded. And the twain being girt went into the midst
of the ring, and clasped each the other in his arms with stalwart hands, like
gable rafters of a lofty house which some famed craftsman joineth, that he may
baffle the wind&rsquo;s force. And their backs creaked, gripped firmly under
the vigorous hands, and sweat ran down in streams, and frequent weals along
their ribs and shoulders sprang up, red with blood, while ever they strove
amain for victory, to win the wrought tripod. Neither could Odysseus trip Aias
and bear him to the ground, nor Aias him, for Odysseus&rsquo; strength withheld
him. But when they began to irk the well-greaved Achaians, then said to
Odysseus great Aias, Telamol&rsquo;s son: &ldquo;Heaven-sprung son of Laertes,
Odysseus of many wiles, or lift thou me, or I will thee, and the issue shall be
with Zeus.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Having thus said he lifted him, but Odysseus was not unmindful of his craft. He
smote deftly from behind the hollow of Aias&rsquo; knee, and loosed his limbs,
and threw him down backward, and Odysseus fell upon his chest, and the folk
gazed and marvelled. Then in his turn much-enduring noble Odysseus tried to
lift, and moved him a little from the ground, but lifted him not, so he crooked
his knee within the other&rsquo;s, and both fell on the ground nigh to each
other, and were soiled with dust, And now starting up again a third time would
they have wrestled, had not Achilles himself arisen and held them back:
&ldquo;No longer press each the other, nor wear you out with pain. Victory is
with both; take equal prizes and depart, that other Achaians may
contend.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they were fain to hear and to obey, and wiped the dust from
them and put their doublets on.
</p>

<p>
Then straightway the son of Peleus set forth other prizes for fleetness of
foot; a mixing-bowl of silver, chased; six measures it held, and in beauty it
was far the best in all the earth, for artificers of Sidon wrought it
cunningly, and men of the Phoenicians brought it over the misty sea, and landed
it in harbour, and gave it a gift to Thoas; and Euneos son of Jason gave it to
the hero Patroklos a ransom for Lykaon Priam&rsquo;s son. Now this cup did
Achilles set forth as a prize in honour of his friend, for whoso should be
fleetest in speed of foot. For the second he set an ox great and very fat, and
for the last prize half a talent of gold. And he stood up and spake a word
among the Argives: &ldquo;Rise, ye who will essay this match.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and straightway arose fleet Aias Oileus&rsquo; son, and Odysseus
of many wiles, and after them Nestor&rsquo;s son Antilochos, for he was best of
all the youth in the foot-race. Then they stood side by side, and Achilles
showed to them the goal. Right eager was the running from the start, but
Oileus&rsquo; son forthwith shot to the front, and close behind him came noble
Odysseus, as close as is a weaving-rod to a fair-girdled womal&rsquo;s breast
when she pulleth it deftly with her hands, drawing the spool along the warp,
and holdeth the rod nigh her breast— so close ran Odysseus behind Aias and trod
in his footsteps or ever the dust had settled there, and on his head fell the
breath of noble Odysseus as he ran ever lightly on, and all the Achaians
applauded his struggle for the victory and called on him as he laboured hard.
But when they were running the last part of the course, forthwith Odysseus
prayed in his soul to bright-eyed Athene: &ldquo;Hearken, goddess, come thou a
good helper of my feet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus prayed he, and Pallas Athene hearkened to him, and made his limbs feel
light, both feet and hands. But when they, were now nigh darting on the prize,
then Aias slipped as he ran, for Athene marred his race, where filth was strewn
from the slaughter of loud-bellowing oxen that fleet Achilles slew in honour of
Patroklos: and Aias&rsquo; mouth and nostrils were filled with that filth of
oxen. So much-enduring noble Odysseus, as he came in first, took up the
mixing-bowl, and famous Aias took the ox. And he stood holding in his hand the
horn of the ox of the field, sputtering away the filth, and spake among the
Argives: &ldquo;Out on it, it was the goddess who marred my running, she who
from of old like a mother standeth by Odysseus&rsquo; side and helpeth
him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, but they all laughed pleasantly to behold him. Then Antilochos
smiling bore off the last prize, and spake his word among the Argives:
&ldquo;Friends, ye will all bear me witness when I say that even herein also
the immortals favour elder men. For Aias is a little older than I, but Odysseus
of an earlier generation and earlier race of men. A green old age is his, they
say, and hard were it for any Achaian to rival him in speed, save only
Achilles.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and gave honour to the fleet son of Peleus. And Achilles
answered him and said: &ldquo;Antilochos, not unheeded shall thy praise be
given; a half-talent of gold I will give thee over and above.&rdquo; He said,
and set it in his hands, and Antilochos received it gladly.
</p>

<p>
Then Peleus&rsquo; son brought and set in the ring a far-shadowing spear and a
chaldron that knew not the fire, an ox&rsquo;s worth, embossed with flowers;
and men that were casters of the javelin arose up. There rose Atreus&rsquo; son
wide-ruling Agamemnon, and Meriones, Idomeneus&rsquo; brave squire. And
swift-footed noble Achilles spake among them: &ldquo;Son of Atreus, for that we
know how far thou excellest all, and how far the first thou art in the might of
thy throw, take thou this prize with thee to the hollow ships, and to the hero
Meriones let us give the spear, if thou art willing in thy heart: thus I at
least advise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, nor disregarded him Agamemnon king of men. So to Meriones he
gave the spear of bronze, but to the herald Talthybios the hero gave the
goodliest prize.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap24"></a>BOOK XXIV.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How the body of Hector was ransomed, and of his funeral.
</p>

<p>
Then the assembly was broken up, and the tribes were scattered to betake them
each to their own swift ships. The rest bethought them of supper and sweet
sleep to have joy thereof; but Achilles wept, remembering his dear comrade, nor
did sleep that conquereth all take hold on him, but he kept turning him to this
side and to that, yearning for Patroklos&rsquo; manhood and excellent valour,
and all the toils he achieved with him and the woes he bare, cleaving the
battles of men and the grievous waves. As he thought thereon be shed big tears,
now lying on his side, now on his back, now on his face; and then anon he would
arise upon his feet and roam wildly beside the beach of the salt sea. Nor would
he be unaware of the Dawn when she arose over the sea and shores. But when he
had yoked the swift steeds to his car he would bind Hector behind his chariot
to drag him withal; and having thrice drawn him round the barrow of the dead
son of Menoitios he rested again in his hut, and left Hector lying stretched on
his face in the dust. But Apollo kept away all defacement from his flesh, for
he had pity on him even in death, and covered him all with his golden aegis,
that Achilles might not tear him when he dragged him.
</p>

<p>
Thus Achilles in his anger entreated noble Hector shamefully; but the blessed
gods when they beheld him pitied him, and urged the clear-sighted slayer of
Argus to steal the corpse away. So to all the others seemed it good, yet not to
Hera or Poseidon or the bright-eyed Maiden, but they continued as when at the
beginning sacred Ilios became hateful to them, and Priam and his people, by
reason of the sin of Alexandros in that he contemned those goddesses when they
came to his steading, and preferred her who brought him deadly lustfulness. But
when the twelfth morn from that day arose, then spake among the Immortals
Phoebus Apollo: &ldquo;Hard of heart are ye, O gods, and cruel Hath Hector
never burnt for you thigh-bones of unblemished bulls and goats? Now have ye not
taken heart to rescue even his corpse for his wife to look upon and his mother
and his child and his father Priam and his people, who speedily would burn him
in the fire and make his funeral. But fell Achilles, O gods, ye are fain to
abet, whose mind is nowise just nor the purpose in his breast to be turned
away, but he is cruelly minded as a lion that in great strength and at the
bidding of his proud heart goeth forth against mel&rsquo;s flocks to make his
meal; even thus Achilles hath cast out pity, neither hath he shame, that doth
both harm and profit men greatly. It must be that many a man lose even some
dearer one than was this, a brother of the same womb born or perchance a son;
yet bringeth he his wailing and lamentation to an end, for an enduring soul
have the Fates given unto men. But Achilles after bereaving noble Hector of his
life bindeth him behind his horses and draggeth him around the tomb of his dear
comrade: not, verily, is that more honourable or better for him. Let him take
heed lest we wax wroth with him, good man though he be, for in his fury he is
entreating shamefully the senseless clay.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then in anger spake unto him white-armed Hera: &ldquo;Even thus mightest thou
speak, O Lord of the silver bow, if ye are to give equal honour to Achilles and
to Hector. Hector is but a mortal and was suckled at a womal&rsquo;s breast,
but Achilles is child of a goddess whom I myself bred up and reared and gave to
a man to be his wife, even to Peleus who was dearest of all men to the
Immortals&rsquo; heart. And all ye gods came to her bridal, and thou among them
wert feasting with thy lyre, O lover of ill company, faithless ever.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to her in answer spake Zeus who gathereth the clouds: &ldquo;Hera, be not
wroth utterly with the gods: for these mel&rsquo;s honour is not to be the
same, yet Hector also was dearest to the gods of all mortals that are in Ilios.
So was he to me at least, for nowise failed he in the gifts I loved. Never did
my altar lack seemly feast, drink-offering and the steam of sacrifice, even the
honour that falleth to our due. But verily we will say no more of stealing away
brave Hector, for it cannot be hidden from Achilles, for his mother abideth
ever nigh to him night and day. But I were fain that some one of the gods would
call Thetis to come near to me, that I may speak unto her a wise word, so that
Achilles may take gifts from Priam and give Hector back.&rdquo; Thus spake he,
and airy-footed Iris sped forth upon the errand and between Samothrace and
rocky Imbros leapt into the black sea, and the waters closed above her with a
noise. And she sped to the bottom like a weight of lead that mounted on horn of
a field-ox goeth down bearing death to ravenous fishes. And she found Thetis in
a hollow cave; about her sat gathered other goddesses of the seas and she in
their midst was wailing for the fate of her noble son who must perish in
deep-soiled Troy, far from his native land. And standing near, fleet-footed
Iris spake to her: &ldquo;Rise, Thetis; Zeus of immortal counsels calleth
thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to her made answer Thetis the silver-footed goddess: &ldquo;Wherefore
biddeth me that mighty god? I shrink from mingling among the Immortals, for I
have countless woes at heart. Yet go I, nor shall his word be in vain,
whatsoever he saith.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having said the noble goddess took to her a dark-hued robe, no blacker
raiment was there found than that. Then she went forth, and wind-footed swift
Iris led the way before her, and around them the surge of the sea was sundered.
And when they had come forth upon the shore they sped up to heaven, and found
the far-seeing son of Kronos, and round him sat gathered all the other blessed
gods that are for ever. Then she sat down beside father Zeus, and Athene gave
her place. And Hera set a fair golden cup in her hand and cheered her with
words, and Thetis drank, and gave back the cup. Then began speech to them the
father of gods and men: &ldquo;Thou art come to Olympus, divine Thetis, in thy
sorrow, with violent grief at thy heart; I know it of myself. Nevertheless will
I tell thee wherefore I called thee hither. Nine days hath dispute arisen among
the Immortals concerning the corpse of Hector and Achilles waster of cities.
Fain are they to send clear-sighted Hermes to steal the body away, but now hear
what glory I accord herein to Achilles, that I may keep through times to come
thy honour and good will. Go with all speed to the host and bear to thy son my
bidding. Say to him that the gods are displeased at him, and that I above all
Immortals am wroth, because with furious heart be holdeth Hector at the beaked
ships and hath not given him back, if haply he may fear me and give Hector
back. But I will send Iris to great-hearted Priam to bid him go to the ships of
the Achaians to ransom his dear son, and carry gifts to Achilles that may
gladden his heart.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Thetis the silver-footed goddess was not disobedient to his
word, and sped darting upon her way down from the peaks of Olympus. And she
came to her sol&rsquo;s hut; there found she him making grievous moan, and his
dear comrades round were swiftly making ready and furnishing their early meal,
and a sheep great and fleecy was being sacrificed in the hut. Then his
lady-mother sate her down close beside him, and stroked him with her hand and
spake to him by his name: &ldquo;My child, how long with lamentation and woe
wilt thou devour thine heart, taking thought of neither food nor rest? good
were even a womal&rsquo;s embrace, for not long shalt thou be left alive to me;
already death and forceful fate are standing nigh thee. But hearken forthwith
unto me, for I am the messenger of Zeus to thee. He saith that the gods are
displeased at thee, and that himself above all Immortals is wroth, because with
furious heart thou holdest Hector at the beaked ships and hast not given him
back. But come restore him, and take ransom for the dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to her in answer spake fleet-footed Achilles: &ldquo;So be it: whoso
bringeth ransom let him take back the dead, if verily with heart&rsquo;s intent
the Olympian biddeth it himself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So they in the assembly of the ships, mother and son, spake to each other many
winged words. But the son of Kronos thus bade Iris go to holy Ilios: &ldquo;Go
forth, fleet Iris, leave the abode of Olympus and bear my message within Ilios
to great-hearted Priam that he go to the ships of the Achaians and ransom his
dear son and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden his heart; let him go
alone, and no other man of the Trojans go with him. Only let some elder herald
attend on him to guide the mules and smooth-wheeled waggon and carry back to
the city the dead man whom noble Achilles slew. Let not death be in his thought
nor any fear; such guide will we give unto him, even the slyer of Argus who
shall lead him until his leading bring him to Achilles. And when he shall have
led him within the hut, neither shall Achilles himself slay him nor suffer any
other herein, for not senseless is he or unforeseeing or wicked, but with all
courtesy he will spare a suppliant man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and airy-footed Iris sped forth upon the errand. And she came to
the house of Priam, and found therein crying and moan. His children sitting
around their father within the court were bedewing their raiment with their
tears, and the old man in their midst was close wrapped all over in his cloak;
and on his head and neck was much mire that he had gathered in his hands as he
grovelled upon the earth. And his daughters and his sons&rsquo; wives were
wailing throughout the house, bethinking them of all those valiant men who had
lost their lives at the hands of the Argives and were lying low. And the
messenger of Zeus stood beside Priam and spake softly unto him, and trembling
came upon his limbs: &ldquo;Be of good cheer in thy heart, O Priam son of
Dardanos, and be not dismayed for anything, for no evil come I hither to
forebode to thee, but with good will. I am the messenger of Zeus to thee, who,
though he be afar off, hath great care and pity for thee. The Olympian biddeth
thee ransom noble Hector and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden his
heart: go thou alone, let none other of the Trojans go with thee. Only let some
elder herald attend on thee to guide the mules and the smooth-wheeled waggon to
carry back to the city the dead man whom noble Achilles slew. Let not death be
in thy thought, nor any fear; such guide shall go with thee, even the slayer of
Argus, who shall lead thee until his leading bring thee to Achilles. And when
he shall have led thee into the hut, neither shall Achilles himself slay thee,
nor suffer any other herein, for not senseless is he or unforeseeing or wicked,
but with all courtesy he will spare a suppliant man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having spoken fleet Iris departed from him; and he bade his sons make
ready the smooth-wheeled mule waggon, and bind the wicker carriage thereon. And
himself he went down to his fragrant chamber, of cedar wood, high-roofed, that
held full many jewels: and to Hekabe his wife he called and spake: &ldquo;Lady,
from Zeus hath an Olympian messenger come to me, that I go to the ships of the
Achaians and ransom my dear son, and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden
his heart. Come tell me how seemeth it to thy mind, for of myself at least my
desire and heart bid me mightily to go thither to the ships and enter the wide
camp of the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, but his wife lamented aloud and made answer to him: &ldquo;Woe
is me, whither is gone thy mind whereby aforetime thou wert famous among
stranger men and among them thou rulest? How art thou fain to go alone to the
ships of the Achaians, to meet the eyes of the man who hath slain full many of
thy brave sons? of iron verily is thy heart. For if he light on thee and behold
thee with his eyes, a savage and ill-trusted man is this, and he will not pity
thee, neither reverence thee at all. Nay, now let us sit in the hall and make
lament afar off. Even thus did forceful Fate erst spin for Hector with her
thread at his beginning when I bare him, even I, that he should glut
fleet-footed dogs, far from his parents, in the dwelling of a violent man whose
inmost vitals I were fain to fasten and feed upon; then would his deeds against
my son be paid again to him, for not playing the coward was he slain of him,
but championing the men and deep-bosomed women of Troy, neither bethought he
him of shelter or of flight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The to her in answer spake the old man godlike Priam: &ldquo;Stay me not, for I
am fain to go, neither be thyself a bird of ill boding in my halls, for thou
wilt not change my mind. Were it some other and a child of earth that bade me
this, whether some seer or of the priests that divine from sacrifice, then
would we declare it false and have no part therein; but now, since I have heard
the voice of the goddess myself and looked upon her face, I will go forth, and
her word shall not be void. And if it be my fate to die by the ships of the
mail-clad Achaians, so would I have it; let Achilles slay me with all speed,
when once I have taken in my arms my son, and have satisfied my desire with
moan.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spake, and opened fair lids of chests wherefrom he chose twelve very goodly
womel&rsquo;s robes and twelve cloaks of single fold and of coverlets a like
number and of fair sheets, and of doublets thereupon. And he weighed and
brought forth talents of gold ten in all, and two shining tripods and four
caldrons, and a goblet exceeding fair that men of Thrace had given him when he
went thither on an embassy, a chattel of great price, yet not that even did the
old man grudge from his halls, for he was exceeding fain at heart to ransom his
dear son. Then he drave out all the Trojans from the colonnade, chiding them
with words of rebuke: &ldquo;Begone, ye that dishonour and do me shame! Have ye
no mourning of your own at home that ye come to vex me here? Think ye it a
small thing that Zeus Kronos&rsquo; son hath given me this sorrow, to lose him
that was the best man of my sons? Nay, but ye too shall feel it, for easier far
shall ye be to the Achaians to slay now he is dead. But for me, ere I behold
with mine eyes the city sacked and wasted, let me go down into the house of
Hades.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and with his staff chased forth the men, and they went forth before
the old man in his haste. Then he called unto his sons, chiding Helenos and
Paris and noble Agathon and Pammon and Antiphonos, and Polites of the loud
war-cry, and Deiphobos and Hippothoos and proud Dios; nine were they whom the
old man called and bade unto him: &ldquo;Haste ye, ill sons, my shame; would
that ye all in Hector&rsquo;s stead had been slain at the swift ships! Woe is
me all unblest, since I begat sons the best men in wide Troy-land, but none of
them is left for me to claim, neither godlike Mestor, nor Troilos with his
chariot of war, nor Hector who was a god among men, neither seemed he as the
son of a mortal man but of a god:—all these hath Ares slain, and here are my
shames all left to me, false-tongued, light-heeled, the heroes of dance,
plunderers of your own people&rsquo;s sheep and kids. Will ye not make me ready
a wain with all speed, and lay all these thereon, that we get us forward on our
way?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they fearing their father&rsquo;s voice brought forth the
smooth-running mule chariot, fair and new, and bound the body thereof on the
frame; and from its peg they took down the mule yoke, a boxwood yoke with knob
well fitted with guiding-rings; and they brought forth the yoke-band of nine
cubits with the yoke. The yoke they set firmly on the polished pole on the rest
at the end thereof, and slipped the ring over the upright pin, which with three
turns of the band they lashed to the knob, and then belayed it close round the
pole and turned the tongue thereunder. Then they brought from the chamber and
heaped on the polished wain the countless ransom of Hector&rsquo;s head, and
yoked strong-hooved harness mules, which on a time the Mysians gave to Priam, a
splendid gift. But to Priam&rsquo;s car they yoked the horses that the old man
kept for his use and reared at the polished crib.
</p>

<p>
Thus in the high palace were Priam and the herald letting yoke their cars, with
wise thoughts at their hearts, when nigh came Hekabe sore at heart, with
honey-sweet wine in her right hand in a golden cup that they might make
libation ere they went. And she stood before the horses and spake a word to
Priam by name: &ldquo;Lo now make libation to father Zeus and pray that thou
mayest come back home from among the enemy, since thy heart speedeth thee forth
to the ships, though fain were I thou wentest not. And next pray to Kronion of
the Storm-cloud, the gods of Ida, that beholdeth all Troy-land beneath, and ask
of him a bird of omen, even the swift messenger that is dearest of all birds to
him and of mightiest strength, to appear upon thy right, that seeing the sign
with thine own eyes thou mayest go in trust thereto unto the ships of the
fleet-horsed Danaans. But if far-seeing Zeus shall not grant unto thee his
messenger, I at least shall not bid thee on to go among the ships of the
Achaians how fain soever thou mayest be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered and spake unto her godlike Priam: &ldquo;Lady, I will not
disregard this hest of thine, for good it is to lift up hands to Zeus, if haply
he will have pity.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the old man, and bade a house-dame that served him pour pure water
on his hands; and she came near to serve him with water in a ewer to wash
withal. And when he had washed his hands he took a goblet from his wife: then
he stood in the midst of the court and prayed and poured forth wine as he
looked up to heaven, and spake a word aloud: &ldquo;Father Zeus that bearest
sway from Ida, most glorious and most great, grant that I find welcome and pity
under Achilles&rsquo; roof, and send a bird of omen, even the swift messenger
that is dearest of all birds to thee and of mightiest strength, to appear upon
the right, that seeing this sign with mine eyes I may go trusting therein unto
the ships of the fleet-horsed Danaans.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he praying, and Zeus of wise counsels hearkened unto him, and
straightway sent forth an eagle, surest omen of winged birds, the dusky hunter
called of men the Black Eagle. Wide as the door, well locking, fitted close, of
some rich mal&rsquo;s high-roofed hall, so wide were his wings either way; and
he appeared to them speeding on the right hand above the city. And when they
saw the eagle they rejoiced and all their hearts were glad within their
breasts.
</p>

<p>
Then the old man made haste to go up into his car, and drave forth from the
doorway and the echoing portico. In front the mules drew the four-wheeled wain,
and wise Idaios drave them; behind came the horses which the old man urged with
the lash at speed along the city: and his friends all followed lamenting loud
as though he were faring to his death. And when they were come down from the
city and were now on the plain, then went back again to Ilios his sons and
marriage kin. But the two coming forth upon the plain were not unbeheld of
far-seeing Zeus. But he looked upon the old man and had compassion on him, and
straightway spake unto Hermes his dear son: &ldquo;Hermes, since unto thee
especially is it dear to companion men, and thou hearest whomsoever thou wilt,
go forth and so guide Priam to the hollow ships of the Achaians that no man
behold or be aware of him, among all the Danaans&rsquo; host, until he come to
the son of Peleus.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the Messenger, the slayer of Argus, was not disobedient unto
his word. Straightway beneath his feet he bound on his fair sandals, golden,
divine, that bare him over wet sea and over the boundless land with the
breathings of the wind. And he took up his wand wherewith he entranceth the
eyes of such men as he will, and others he likewise waketh out of sleep: this
did the strong slayer of Argus take in his hand, and flew. And quickly came he
to Troy-land and the Hellespont, and went on his way in semblance as a young
man that is a prince, with the new down on his chin, as when the youth of men
is the comeliest.
</p>

<p>
Now the others, when they had driven beyond the great barrow of Ilios, halted
the mules and horses at the river to drink; for darkness was come down over the
earth. Then the herald beheld Hermes from hard by, and marked him, and spake
and said to Priam: &ldquo;Consider, son of Dardanos; this is matter of prudent
thought. I see a man, methinks we shall full soon be rent in pieces. Come, let
us flee in our chariot, or else at least touch his knees and entreat him that
he have mercy on us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man was confounded, and he was dismayed exceedingly,
and the hair on his pliant limbs stood up, and he stood still amazed. But the
Helper came nigh of himself and took the old mal&rsquo;s hand, and spake and
questioned him: &ldquo;Whither, father, dost thou thus guide these horses and
mules through the divine night, when other mortals are asleep? Hadst thou no
fear of the fierce-breathing Achaians, thy bitter foes that are hard anigh
thee? If one of them should espy thee carrying such treasures through the swift
black night, what then would be thy thought? Neither art thou young thyself,
and thy companion here is old, that ye should make defence against a man that
should assail thee first. But I will no wise harm thee, yea I will keep any
other from thy hurt: for the similitude of my dear father I see in thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake the old man, godlike Priam: &ldquo;Even so, kind
son, are all these things as thou sayest. Nevertheless hath some god stretched
forth his hand even over me in that he hath sent a wayfarer such as thou to
meet me, a bearer of good luck, by the nobleness of thy form and semblance; and
thou art wise of heart and of blessed parents art thou sprung.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake the Messenger, the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;All this, old
sire, hast thou verily spoken aright. But come say this and tell me truly
whether thou art taking forth a great and goodly treasure unto alien men, where
it may abide for thee in safety, or whether by this ye are all forsaking holy
Ilios in fear; so far the best man among you hath perished, even thy son; for
of battle with the Achaians abated he never a jot.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake the old man, godlike Priam, &ldquo;Who art thou,
noble sir, and of whom art born? For meetly hast thou spoken of the fate of my
hapless son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake the Messenger, the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Thou art
proving me, old sire, in asking me of noble Hector. Him have I full oft seen
with mine eyes in glorious battle, and when at the ships he was slaying the
Argives he drave thither, piercing them with the keen bronze, and we stood
still and marvelled thereat, for Achilles suffered us not to fight, being wroth
against Atreus&rsquo; son. His squire am I, and came in the same well-wrought
ship. From the Myrmidons I come, and my father is Polyktor. Wealthy is he, and
an old man even as thou, and six other sons hath he, and I am his seventh. With
the others I cast lots, and it fell to me to fare hither with the host. And now
am I come from the ships to the plain, for at day-break the glancing-eyed
Achaians will set the battle in array around the town. For it chafeth them to
be sitting here, nor can the Achaian lords hold in their fury for the
fray.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And the old man, godlike Priam, answered him, saying: &ldquo;If verily thou art
a squire of Achilles Peleus&rsquo; son, come tell me all the truth, whether
still my son is by the ships, or whether ere now Achilles hath riven him limb
from limb and cast him to the dogs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him again spake the Messenger the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Old sire, not
yet have dogs or birds devoured him, but there lieth he still by
Achilles&rsquo; ship, even as he fell, among the huts, and the twelfth morn now
hath risen upon him, nor doth his flesh corrupt at all, neither worms consume
it, such as devour men slain in war. Truly Achilles draggeth him recklessly
around the barrow of his dear comrade so oft as divine day dawneth, yet marreth
he him not; thou wouldst marvel if thou couldst go see thyself how dewy fresh
he lieth, and is washed clean of blood, nor anywhere defiled; and all his
wounds wherewith he was stricken are closed; howbeit many of thy son, though he
be but a dead corpse, for they held him dear at heart.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man rejoiced, and answered him, saying: &ldquo;My
son, it is verily a good thing to give due offerings withal to the Immortals,
for never did my child—if that child indeed I had—forget in our halls the gods
who inhabit Olympus. Therefore have they remembered this for him, albeit his
portion is death. But come now take from me this goodly goblet, and guard me
myself and guide me, under Heaven, that I may come unto the hut of
Peleus&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then spake unto him again the Messenger the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Thou art
proving me, old sire, who am younger than thou, but thou wilt not prevail upon
me, in that thou biddest me take gifts from thee without Achilles&rsquo;
privity. I were afraid and shamed at heart to defraud him, lest some evil come
to pass on me hereafter. But as thy guide I would go even unto famous Argos,
accompanying thee courteously in swift ship or on foot. Not from scorn of thy
guide would any assail thee then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the Helper, and leaping on the chariot behind the horses he swiftly
took lash and reins into his hand, and breathed brave spirit into horses and
mules. But when they were come to the towers and trench of the ships, there
were the sentinels just busying them about their supper. Then the Messenger,
the slayer of Argus, shed sleep upon them all, and straightway opened the gates
and thrust back the bars, and brought within Priam and the splendid gifts upon
his wain. And they came to the lofty hut of the son of Peleus, which the
Myrmidons made for their king and hewed therefor timber of the pine, and
thatched it with downy thatching-rush that they mowed in the meadows, and
around it made for him their lord a great court with close-set palisades; and
the door was barred by a single bolt of pine that three Achaians wont to drive
home, and three drew back that mighty bar—three of the rest, but Achilles by
himself would drive it home. Then opened the Helper Hermes the door for the old
man, and brought in the splendid gifts for Peleus&rsquo; fleet-footed son, and
descended from the chariot to the earth and spake aloud: &ldquo;Old sire, I
that have come to thee am an immortal god, even Hermes, for my father sent me
to companion thee on thy way. But now will I depart from thee nor come within
Achilles&rsquo; sight; it were cause of wrath that an immortal god should thus
show favour openly unto mortals. But thou go in and clasp the knees of
Peleus&rsquo; son and entreat him for his father&rsquo;s sake and his
mother&rsquo;s of the lovely hair and for his child&rsquo;s sake that thou
mayest move his soul.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus Hermes spake, and departed unto high Olympus. But Priam leapt from the car
to the earth, and left Idaios in his place; he stayed to mind the horses and
mules; but the old man made straight for the house where Achilles dear to Zeus
was wont to sit. And therein he found the man himself, and his comrades sate
apart: two only, the hero Automedon and Alkimos, of the stock of Ares, were
busy in attendance; and he was lately ceased from meat, even from eating and
drinking: and still the table stood beside him. But they were unaware of great
Priam as he came in, and so stood he anigh and clasped in his hands the knees
of Achilles, and kissed his hands, terrible, man-slaying, that slew many of
Priam&rsquo;s sons. And as when a grievous curse cometh upon a man who in his
own country hath slain another and escapeth to a land of strangers, to the
house of some rich man, and wonder possesseth them that look on him—so Achilles
wondered when he saw godlike Priam, and the rest wondered likewise, and looked
upon one another. Then Priam spake and entreated him, saying: &ldquo;Bethink
thee, O Achilles like to gods, of thy father that is of like years with me, on
the grievous pathway of old age. Him haply are the dwellers round about
entreating evilly, nor is there any to ward from him ruin and bane.
Nevertheless while he heareth of thee as yet alive he rejoiceth in his heart,
and hopeth withal day after day that he shall see his dear son returning from
Troy-land. But I, I am utterly unblest, since I begat sons the best men in wide
Troy-land, but declare unto thee that none of them is left. Fifty I had, when
the sons of the Achaians came; nineteen were born to me of one mother, and
concubines bare the rest within my halls. Now of the more part had impetuous
Ares unstrung the knees, and he who was yet left and guarded city and men, him
slewest thou but now as he fought for his country, even Hector. For his sake
come I unto the ships of the Achaians that I may win him back from thee, and I
bring with me untold ransom. Yea, fear thou the gods, Achilles, and have
compassion on me, even me, bethinking thee of thy father. Lo, I am yet more
piteous than he, and have braved what none other man on earth hath braved
before, to stretch forth my hand toward the face of the slayer of my
sons.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and stirred within Achilles desire to make lament for his
father. And he touched the old mal&rsquo;s hand and gently moved him back. And
as they both bethought them of their dead, so Priam for man-slaying Hector wept
sore as he was fallen before Achilles&rsquo; feet, and Achilles wept for his
own father, and now again for Patroklos, and their moan went up throughout the
house. But when noble Achilles had satisfied him with lament, and the desire
thereof departed from his heart and limbs, straightway he sprang from his seat
and raised the old man by his hand, pitying his hoary head and hoary beard, and
spake unto him winged words and said: &ldquo;Ah hapless! many ill things verily
thou hast endured in thy heart. How durst thou come alone to the ships of the
Achaians and to meet the eyes of the man who hath slain full many of the brave
sons? of iron verily is thy heart. But come then set thee on a seat, and we
will let our sorrows lie quiet in our hearts for all our pain, for no avail
cometh of chill lament. This is the lot the gods have spun for miserable men,
that they should live in pain; yet themselves are sorrowless. For two urns
stand upon the floor of Zeus filled with his evil gifts, and one with
blessings. To whomsoever Zeus whose joy is in the lightning dealeth a mingled
lot, that man chanceth now upon ill and now again on good, but to whom he
giveth but of the bad kind him he bringeth to scorn, and evil famine chaseth
him over the goodly earth, and he is a wanderer honoured of neither gods nor
men. Even thus to Peleus gave the gods splendid gifts from his birth, for he
excelled all men in good fortune and wealth, and was king of the Myrmidons, and
mortal though he was the gods gave him a goddess to be his bride. Yet even on
him God brought evil, seeing that there arose to him no offspring of princely
sons in his halls, save that he begat one son to an untimely death. Neither may
I tend him as he groweth old, since very far from my country I am dwelling in
Troy-land, to vex thee and thy children. And of thee, old sire, we have heard
how of old time thou wert happy, even how of all that Lesbos, seat of Makar,
boundeth to the north thereof and Phrygia farther up and the vast Hellespont—of
all these folk, men say, thou wert the richest in wealth and in sons, but after
that the Powers of Heaven brought this bane on thee, ever are battles and
man-slayings around thy city. Keep courage, and lament not unabatingly in thy
heart. For nothing wilt thou avail by grieving for thy son, neither shalt thou
bring him back to life or ever some new evil come upon thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then made answer unto him the old man, godlike Priam: &ldquo;Bid me not to a
seat, O fosterling of Zeus, so long as Hector lieth uncared for at the huts,
but straightway give him back that I may behold him with mine eyes; and accept
thou the great ransom that we bring. So mayest thou have pleasure thereof, and
come unto thy native land, since thou hast spared me from the first.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then fleet-footed Achilles looked sternly upon him and said: &ldquo;No longer
chafe me, old sire; of myself am I minded to give Hector back to thee, for
there came to me a messenger from Zeus, even my mother who bare me, daughter of
the Ancient One of the Sea. And I know, O Priam, in my mind, nor am unaware
that some god it is that hath guided thee to the swift ships of the Achaians.
For no mortal man, even though in prime of youth, would dare to come among the
host, for neither could he escape the watch, nor easily thrust back the bolt of
our doors. Therefore now stir my heart no more amid my troubles, lest I leave
not even thee in peace, old sire, within my hut, albeit thou art my suppliant,
and lest I transgress the commandment of Zeus.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man feared, and obeyed his word. And the son of
Peleus leapt like a lion through the door of the house, not alone, for with him
went two squires, the hero Automedon and Alkimos, they whom above all his
comrades Achilles honoured, save only Patroklos that was dead. They then loosed
from under the yoke the horses and mules, and led in the old mal&rsquo;s
crier-herald and set him on a chair, and from the wain of goodly felloes they
took the countless ransom set on Hector&rsquo;s head. But they left two robes
and a well-spun doublet, that Achilles might wrap the dead therein when he gave
him to be carried home. And he called forth handmaids and bade them wash and
anoint him when they had borne him apart, so that Priam should not look upon
his son, lest he should not refrain the wrath at his sorrowing heart when he
should look upon his son, and lest Achilles&rsquo; heart be vexed thereat and
he slay him and transgress the commandment of Zeus. So when the handmaids had
washed the body and anointed it with oil, and had thrown over it a fair robe
and a doublet, then Achilles himself lifted it and laid it on a bier, and his
comrades with him lifted it on to the polished waggon. Then he groaned aloud
and called on his dear comrade by his name: &ldquo;Patroklos, be not vexed with
me if thou hear even in the house of Hades that I have given back noble Hector
unto his dear father, for not unworthy is the ransom he hath given me, whereof
I will deal to thee again thy rightful share.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake noble Achilles, and went back into the hut, and sate him down on the
cunningly-wrought couch whence he had arisen by the opposite wall, and spake a
word to Priam: &ldquo;Thy son, old sire, is given back as thou wouldest and
lieth on a bier, and with the break of day thou shalt see him thyself as thou
carriest him. But now bethink we us of supper. For even fair-haired Niobe
bethought her of meat, she whose twelve children perished in her halls, six
daughters and six lusty sons. The sons Apollo, in his anger against Niobe, slew
with arrows from his silver bow, and the daughters archer Artemis, for that
Niobe matched herself against fair-cheeked Leto, saying that the goddess bare
but twain but herself many children: so they though they were but twain
destroyed the other all. Nine days they lay in their blood, nor was there any
to bury them, for Kronion turned the folk to stones. Yet on the tenth day the
gods of heaven buried them, and she then bethought her of meat, when she was
wearied out with weeping tears. And somewhere now among the cliffs, on the
lonely mountains, even on Sipylos, where they say are the couching-places of
nymphs that dance around Acheloos, there she, albeit a stone, broodeth still
over her troubles from the gods. But come let us too, noble father, take
thought of meat, and afterward thou shalt mourn over thy dear son as thou
carriest him to Ilios; and many tears shall be his due.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake fleet Achilles, and sprang up, and slew a pure white sheep, and his
comrades skinned and made it ready in seemly fashion, and divided it cunningly
and pierced it with spits, and roasted it carefully and drew all off. And
Automedon took bread and served it on a table in fair baskets, while Achilles
dealt out the flesh. And they stretched forth their hands to the good cheer
lying ready before them. But when they had put off the desire of meat and
drink, then Priam son of Dardanos marvelled at Achilles to see how great he was
and how goodly, for he was like a god to look upon. And Achilles marvelled at
Priam son of Dardanos, beholding his noble aspect and hearkening to his words.
But when they had gazed their fill upon one another, then first spake the old
man, godlike Priam, to Achilles: &ldquo;Now presently give me whereon to lie,
fosterling of Zeus, that of sweet sleep also we may now take our fill at rest:
for never yet have mine eyes closed beneath their lids since at thy hands my
son lost his life, but I continually mourn and brood over countless griefs,
grovelling in the courtyard-close amid the mire. Now at last have I tasted
bread and poured bright wine down my throat, but till now I had tasted
naught.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and Achilles bade his comrades and handmaids to set a bedstead beneath
the portico, and to cast thereon fair shining rugs and spread coverlets above
and thereon to lay thick mantles to be a clothing over all. And the maids went
forth from the inner hail with torches in their hands, and quickly spread two
beds in haste. Then with bitter meaning [in his reference to Agamemnon] said
fleet-footed Achilles unto Priam: &ldquo;Lie thou without, dear sire, lest
there come hither one of the counsellors of the Achaians, such as ever take
counsel with me by my side, as custom is. If any of such should behold thee
through the swift black night, forthwith he might haply tell it to Agamemnon
shepherd of the host, and thus would there be delay in giving back the dead.
But come say this to me and tell it true, how many days&rsquo; space thou art
fain to make funeral for noble Hector, so that for so long I may myself abide
and may keep back the host.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And the old man, godlike Priam, answered him, saying: &ldquo;If thou art verily
willing that I accomplish noble Hector&rsquo;s funeral, by doing as thou
sayest, O Achilles, thou wilt do me grace. For thou knowest how we are pent
within the city, and wood from the mountain is far to fetch, and the Trojans
are much in fear. Nine days will we make moan for him in our halls, and on the
tenth we will hold funeral and the folk shall feast, and on the eleventh we
will make, a barrow over him, and on the twelfth we will do battle if need
be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then again spake the fleet noble Achilles unto him, saying: &ldquo;All this, O
ancient Priam, shall be as thou biddest; for I will hold back the battle even
so long a time as thou tellest me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus speaking he clasped the old mal&rsquo;s right hand at the wrist, lest he
should be anywise afraid at heart. So they in the forepart of the house laid
them down, Priam and the herald, with wise thoughts at their hearts, but
Achilles slept in a recess of the firm-wrought hut, and beside him lay
fair-cheeked Briseis.
</p>

<p>
Now all other gods and warriors lords of chariots slumbered all night, by soft
sleep overcome. But not on the Helper Hermes did sleep take hold as he sought
within his heart how he should guide forth king Priam from the ships unespied
of the trusty sentinels. And he stood above his head and spake a word to him:
&ldquo;Old sire, no thought then hast thou of any evil, seeing thou yet
sleepest among men that are thine enemies, for that Achilles spared thee. Truly
now hast thou won back thy dear son, and at great price. But for thy life will
thy sons thou hast left behind be offering threefold ransom, if but Agamemnon
Atreus&rsquo; son be aware of thee, and aware be all the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man feared, and roused the herald. And Hermes yoked
the horses and mules for them, and himself drave them lightly through the camp,
and none was aware of them.
</p>

<p>
But when they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, [even eddying
Xanthos, begotten of immortal Zeus,] then Hermes departed up to high Olympus,
and Morning of the saffron robe spread over all the earth. And they with wail
and moan drave the horses to the city, and the mules drew the dead. Nor marked
them any man or fair-girdled woman until Kassandra, peer of golden Aphrodite,
having gone up upon Pergamos, was aware of her dear father as he stood in the
car, and the herald that was crier to the town. Then beheld she him that lay
upon the bier behind the mules, and thereat she wailed and cried aloud
throughout all the town: &ldquo;O men and women of Troy, come ye hither and
look upon Hector, if ever while he was alive ye rejoiced when he came back from
battle, since great joy was he to the city and all the folk.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, nor was man or woman left within the city, for upon all came
unendurable grief. And near the gates they met Priam bringing home the dead.
First bewailed him his dear wife and lady mother, as they cast them on the
fair-wheeled wain and touched his head; and around them stood the throng and
wept. So all day long unto the setting of the sun they had lamented Hector in
tears without the gate, had not the old man spoken from the car among the folk:
&ldquo;Give me place for the mules to pass through; hereafter ye shall have
your fill of wailing, when I have brought him unto his home.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they parted asunder and gave place to the wain. And the
others when they had brought him to the famous house, laid him on a fretted
bed, and set beside him minstrel leaders of the dirge, who wailed a mournful
lay, while the women made moan with them. And among the women white-armed
Andromache led the lamentation, while in her hands she held the head of Hector
slayer of men: &ldquo;Husband, thou art gone young from life, and leavest me a
widow in thy halls. And the child is yet but a little one, child of ill-fated
parents, thee and me; nor methinks shall he grow up to manhood, for ere then
shall this city be utterly destroyed. For thou art verily perished who didst
watch over it, who guardedst it and keptest safe its noble wives and infant
little ones. These soon shall be voyaging in the hollow ships, yea and I too
with them, and thou, my child, shalt either go with me unto a place where thou
shalt toil at unseemly tasks, labouring before the face of some harsh lord, or
else some Achaian will take thee by the arm and hurl thee from the battlement,
a grievous death, for that he is wroth because Hector slew his brother or
father or son, since full many of the Achaians in Hector&rsquo;s hands have
bitten the firm earth. For no light hand had thy father in the grievous fray.
Therefore the folk lament him throughout the city, and woe unspeakable and
mourning hast thou left to thy parents, Hector, but with me chiefliest shall
grievous pain abide. For neither didst thou stretch thy hands to me from a bed
in thy death, neither didst speak to me some memorable word that I might have
thought on evermore as my tears fall night and day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and the women joined their moan. And among them Hekabe
again led the loud lament: &ldquo;Hector, of all my children far dearest to my
heart, verily while thou wert alive dear wert thou to the gods, and even in thy
doom of death have they had care for thee. For other sons of mine whom he took
captive would fleet Achilles sell beyond the unvintaged sea unto Samos and
Imbros and smoking Lemnos, but when with keen-edged bronze he had bereft thee
of thy life he was fain to drag thee oft around the tomb of his comrade, even
Patroklos whom thou slewest, yet might he not raise him up thereby. But now all
dewy and fresh thou liest in our halls, like one on whom Apollo, lord of the
silver bow, hath descended and slain him with his gentle darts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and stirred unending moan. Then thirdly Helen led their
sore lament: &ldquo;Hector, of all my brethren of Troy far dearest to my heart!
Truly my lord is godlike Alexandros who brought me to Troy-land—would I had
died ere then. For this is now the twentieth year since I went thence and am
gone from my own native land, but never yet heard I evil or despiteful word
from thee; nay, if any other haply upbraided me in the palace-halls, whether
brother or sister of thine or brother&rsquo;s fair-robed wife, or thy
mother—but thy father is ever kind to me as he were my own—then wouldst thou
soothe such with words and refrain them, by the gentleness of thy spirit and by
thy gentle words. Therefore bewail I thee with pain at heart, and my hapless
self with thee, for no more is any left in wide Troy-land to be my friend and
kind to me, but all men shudder at me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and therewith the great multitude of the people
groaned. But the old man Priam spake a word among the folk: &ldquo;Bring wood,
men of Troy, unto the city, and be not anywise afraid at heart of a crafty
ambush of the Achaians; for this message Achilles gave me when he sent me from
the black ships, that they should do us no hurt until the twelfth morn
arise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they yoked oxen and mules to wains, and quickly then they
flocked before the city. So nine days they gathered great store of wood. But
when the tenth morn rose with light for men, then bare they forth brave Hector,
weeping tears, and on a lofty pyre they laid the dead man, and thereon cast
fire.
</p>

<p>
But when the daughter of Dawn, rosy-fingered Morning, shone forth, then
gathered the folk around glorious Hector&rsquo;s pyre. First quenched they with
bright wine all the burning, so far as the fire&rsquo;s strength went, and then
his brethren and comrades gathered his white bones lamenting, and big tears
flowed down their cheeks. And the bones they took and laid in a golden urn,
shrouding them in soft purple robes, and straightway laid the urn in a hollow
grave and piled thereon great close-set stones, and heaped with speed a barrow,
while watchers were set everywhere around, lest the well-greaved Achaians
should make onset before the time. And when they had heaped the barrow they
went back, and gathered them together and feasted right well in noble feast at
the palace of Priam, Zeus-fostered king.
</p>

<p>
Thus held they funeral for Hector tamer of horses.</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

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