The Poetry Corner

The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book IV.

By William Cowper

Argument Of The Fourth Book. In a Council of the Gods, a dispute arises between Jupiter and Juno, which is at last compromised, Jove consenting to dispatch Minerva with a charge to incite some Trojan to a violation of the truce. Minerva descends for that purpose, and in the form of Laodocus, a son of Priam, exhorts Pandarus to shoot at Menelaus, and succeeds. Menelaus is wounded, and Agamemnon having consigned him to the care of Machaon, goes forth to perform the duties of commander-in-chief, in the encouragement of his host to battle. The battle begins. Now, on the golden floor of Jove's abode The Gods all sat consulting; Hebe them, Graceful, with nectar served;[1] they pledging each His next, alternate quaff'd from cups of gold, And at their ease reclined, look'd down on Troy, When, sudden, Jove essay'd by piercing speech Invidious, to enkindle Juno's ire. Two Goddesses on Menelaus' part Confederate stand, Juno in Argos known, Pallas in Alalcomene;[2] yet they Sequester'd sit, look on, and are amused. Not so smile-loving Venus; she, beside Her champion station'd, saves him from his fate, And at this moment, by her aid, he lives. But now, since victory hath proved the lot Of warlike Menelaus, weigh ye well The matter; shall we yet the ruinous strife Prolong between the nations, or consent To give them peace? should peace your preference win, And prove alike acceptable to all, Stand Ilium, and let Menelaus bear Helen of Argos back to Greece again. He ended; Juno and Minerva heard, Low-murmuring deep disgust; for side by side They forging sat calamity to Troy. Minerva through displeasure against Jove Nought utter'd, for with rage her bosom boil'd; But Juno check'd not hers, who thus replied. What word hath pass'd thy lips, Jove most severe! How? wouldst thou render fruitless all my pains? The sweat that I have pour'd? my steeds themselves Have fainted while I gather'd Greece in arms For punishment of Priam and his sons. Do it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven. Then her the Thunderer answer'd sore displeased. Ah shameless! how have Priam and his sons So much transgress'd against thee, that thou burn'st With ceaseless rage to ruin populous Troy? Go, make thine entrance at her lofty gates, Priam and all his house, and all his host Alive devour; then, haply, thou wilt rest; Do even as thou wilt, that this dispute Live not between us a consuming fire For ever. But attend; mark well the word. When I shall also doom in future time Some city to destruction, dear to thee, Oppose me not, but give my fury way As I give way to thine, not pleased myself, Yet not unsatisfied, so thou be pleased. For of all cities of the sons of men, And which the sun and stars from heaven behold, Me sacred Troy most pleases, Priam me Most, and the people of the warrior King. Nor without cause. They feed mine altar well; Libation there, and steam of savory scent Fail not, the tribute which by lot is ours. Him answer'd, then, the Goddess ample-eyed,[3] Majestic Juno: Three fair cities me, Of all the earth, most interest and engage, Mycen for magnificence renown'd, Argos, and Sparta. Them, when next thy wrath Shall be inflamed against them, lay thou waste; I will not interpose on their behalf; Thou shalt not hear me murmur; what avail Complaint or force against thy matchless arm? Yet were it most unmeet that even I Should toil in vain; I also boast a birth Celestial; Saturn deeply wise, thy Sire, Is also mine; our origin is one. Thee I acknowledge Sovereign, yet account Myself entitled by a twofold claim To veneration both from Gods and men, The daughter of Jove's sire, and spouse of Jove. Concession mutual therefore both thyself Befits and me, whom when the Gods perceive Disposed to peace, they also shall accord. Come then.--To yon dread field dispatch in haste Minerva, with command that she incite The Trojans first to violate their oath By some fresh insult on the exulting Greeks. So Juno; nor the sire of all refused, But in wing'd accents thus to Pallas spake. Begone; swift fly to yonder field; incite The Trojans first to violate their oath By some fresh insult on the exulting Greeks. The Goddess heard, and what she wish'd, enjoin'd, Down-darted swift from the Olympian heights, In form a meteor, such as from his hand Not seldom Jove dismisses, beaming bright And breaking into stars, an omen sent To mariners, or to some numerous host. Such Pallas seem'd, and swift descending, dropp'd Full in the midst between them. They with awe That sign portentous and with wonder view'd, Achaians both and Trojans, and his next The soldier thus bespake. Now either war And dire hostility again shall flame, Or Jove now gives us peace. Both are from Jove. So spake the soldiery; but she the form Taking of brave Laodocus, the son Of old Antenor, throughout all the ranks Sought godlike Pandarus.[4] Ere long she found The valiant son illustrious of Lycaon, Standing encompass'd by his dauntless troops, Broad-shielded warriors, from sepus' stream His followers; to his side the Goddess came, And in wing'd accents ardent him bespake. Brave offspring of Lycaon, is there hope That thou wilt hear my counsel? darest thou slip A shaft at Menelaus? much renown Thou shalt and thanks from all the Trojans win, But most of all, from Paris, prince of Troy. From him illustrious gifts thou shalt receive Doubtless, when Menelaus he shall see The martial son of Atreus by a shaft Subdued of thine, placed on his funeral pile. Come. Shoot at Menelaus, glorious Chief! But vow to Lycian Phoebus bow-renown'd A hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock, To fair Zeleia's[5] walls once safe restored. So Pallas spake, to whom infatuate he Listening, uncased at once his polished bow.[6] That bow, the laden brows of a wild goat Salacious had supplied; him on a day Forth-issuing from his cave, in ambush placed He wounded with an arrow to his breast Dispatch'd, and on the rock supine he fell. Each horn had from his head tall growth attain'd, Full sixteen palms; them shaven smooth the smith Had aptly join'd, and tipt their points with gold. That bow he strung, then, stooping, planted firm The nether horn, his comrades bold the while Screening him close with shields, lest ere the prince Were stricken, Menelaus brave in arms, The Greeks with fierce assault should interpose. He raised his quiver's lid; he chose a dart Unflown, full-fledged, and barb'd with pangs of death. He lodged in haste the arrow on the string, And vow'd to Lycian Phoebus bow-renown'd A hecatomb, all firstlings of the flock, To fair Zeleia's walls once safe restored. Compressing next nerve and notch'd arrow-head He drew back both together, to his pap Drew home the nerve, the barb home to his bow, And when the horn was curved to a wide arch, He twang'd it. Whizz'd the bowstring, and the reed Leap'd off, impatient for the distant throng. Thee, Menelaus, then the blessed Gods Forgat not; Pallas huntress of the spoil, Thy guardian then, baffled the cruel dart. Far as a mother wafts the fly aside[7] That haunts her slumbering babe, so far she drove Its course aslant, directing it herself Against the golden clasps that join'd his belt; For there the doubled hauberk interposed. The bitter arrow plunged into his belt. It pierced his broider'd belt, stood fixt within His twisted hauberk, nor the interior quilt, Though penetrable least to arrow-points And his best guard, withheld it, but it pass'd That also, and the Hero's skin inscribed. Quick flowed a sable current from the wound. As when a Carian or Monian maid Impurples ivory ordain'd to grace The cheek of martial steed; safe stored it lies, By many a Chief desired, but proves at last The stately trapping of some prince,[8] the pride Of his high pamper'd steed, nor less his own; Such, Menelaus, seem'd thy shapely thighs, Thy legs, thy feet, stained with thy trickling blood. Shudder'd King Agamemnon when he saw The blood fast trickling from the wound, nor less Shudder'd himself the bleeding warrior bold. But neck and barb observing from the flesh Extant, he gather'd heart, and lived again. The royal Agamemnon, sighing, grasp'd The hand of Menelaus, and while all Their followers sigh'd around them, thus began.[9] I swore thy death, my brother, when I swore This truce, and set thee forth in sight of Greeks And Trojans, our sole champion; for the foe Hath trodden underfoot his sacred oath, And stained it with thy blood. But not in vain, The truce was ratified, the blood of lambs Poured forth, libation made, and right hands join'd In holy confidence. The wrath of Jove May sleep, but will not always; they shall pay Dear penalty; their own obnoxious heads Shall be the mulct, their children and their wives. For this I know, know surely; that a day Shall come, when Ilium, when the warlike King Of Ilium and his host shall perish all. Saturnian Jove high-throned, dwelling in heaven, Resentful of this outrage, then shall shake His storm-clad gis over them. He will; I speak no fable. Time shall prove me true. But, oh my Menelaus, dire distress Awaits me, if thy close of life be come, And thou must die. Then ignominy foul Shall hunt me back to Argos long-desired; For then all here will recollect their home, And, hope abandoning, will Helen yield To be the boast of Priam, and of Troy. So shall our toils be vain, and while thy bones Shall waste these clods beneath, Troy's haughty sons The tomb of Menelaus glory-crown'd Insulting barbarous, shall scoff at me. So may Atrides, shall they say, perform His anger still as he performed it here, Whither he led an unsuccessful host, Whence he hath sail'd again without the spoils, And where he left his brother's bones to rot. So shall the Trojan speak; then open earth Her mouth, and hide me in her deepest gulfs! But him, the hero of the golden locks Thus cheer'd. My brother, fear not, nor infect With fear the Grecians; the sharp-pointed reed Hath touch'd no vital part. The broider'd zone, The hauberk, and the tough interior quilt, Work of the armorer, its force repress'd. Him answer'd Agamemnon, King of men. So be it brother! but the hand of one Skilful to heal shall visit and shall dress The wound with drugs of pain-assuaging power. He ended, and his noble herald, next, Bespake, Talthybius. Haste, call hither quick The son of sculapius, leech renown'd, The prince Machaon. Bid him fly to attend The warlike Chieftain Menelaus; him Some archer, either Lycian or of Troy, A dexterous one, hath stricken with a shaft To his own glory, and to our distress. He spake, nor him the herald disobey'd, But through the Greeks bright-arm'd his course began The Hero seeking earnest on all sides Machaon. Him, ere long, he station'd saw Amid the shielded-ranks of his brave band From steed-famed Tricca drawn, and at his side With accents ardor-wing'd, him thus address'd. Haste, Asclepiades! The King of men Calls thee. Delay not. Thou must visit quick Brave Menelaus, Atreus' son, for him Some archer, either Lycian or of Troy, A dexterous one, hath stricken with a shaft To his own glory, and to our distress. So saying, he roused Machaon, who his course Through the wide host began. Arriving soon Where wounded Menelaus stood, while all The bravest of Achaia's host around The godlike hero press'd, he strove at once To draw the arrow from his cincture forth. But, drawing, bent the barbs. He therefore loosed His broider'd belt, his hauberk and his quilt, Work of the armorer, and laying bare His body where the bitter shaft had plow'd His flesh, he suck'd the wound, then spread it o'er With drugs of balmy power, given on a time For friendship's sake by Chiron to his sire. While Menelaus thus the cares engross'd Of all those Chiefs, the shielded powers of Troy 'Gan move toward them, and the Greeks again Put on their armor, mindful of the fight. Then hadst thou[10] not great Agamemnon seen Slumbering, or trembling, or averse from war, But ardent to begin his glorious task. His steeds, and his bright chariot brass-inlaid He left; the snorting steeds Eurymedon, Offspring of Ptolemy Pirades Detain'd apart; for him he strict enjoin'd Attendance near, lest weariness of limbs Should seize him marshalling his numerous host. So forth he went, and through the files on foot Proceeding, where the warrior Greeks he saw Alert, he roused them by his words the more.[11] Argives! abate no spark of all your fire. Jove will not prosper traitors. Them who first Transgress'd the truce the vultures shall devour, But we (their city taken) shall their wives Lead captive, and their children home to Greece. So cheer'd he them. But whom he saw supine, Or in the rugged work of war remiss, In terms of anger them he stern rebuked. Oh Greeks! The shame of Argos! Arrow-doom'd! Blush ye not? Wherefore stand ye thus aghast, Like fawns which wearied after scouring wide The champain, gaze and pant, and can no more? Senseless like them ye stand, nor seek the fight. Is it your purpose patient here to wait Till Troy invade your vessels on the shore Of the grey deep, that ye may trial make Of Jove, if he will prove, himself, your shield? Thus, in discharge of his high office, pass'd Atrides through the ranks, and now arrived Where, hardy Chief! Idomeneus in front Of his bold Cretans stood, stout as a boar The van he occupied, while in the rear Meriones harangued the most remote. Them so prepared the King of men beheld With joyful heart, and thus in courteous terms Instant the brave Idomeneus address'd. Thee fighting, feasting, howsoe'er employed, I most respect, Idomeneus, of all The well-horsed Dani; for when the Chiefs Of Argos, banqueting, their beakers charge With rosy wine the honorable meed Of valor, thou alone of all the Greeks Drink'st not by measure.[12] No--thy goblet stands Replenish'd still, and like myself thou know'st No rule or bound, save what thy choice prescribes. March. Seek the foe. Fight now as heretofore, To whom Idomeneus of Crete replied, Atrides! all the friendship and the love Which I have promised will I well perform. Go; animate the rest, Chief after Chief Of the Achaians, that the fight begin. For Troy has scatter'd to the winds all faith, All conscience; and for such her treachery foul Shall have large recompence of death and wo. He said, whom Agamemnon at his heart Exulting, pass'd, and in his progress came Where stood each Ajax; them he found prepared With all their cloud of infantry behind. As when the goat-herd on some rocky point Advanced, a cloud sees wafted o'er the deep By western gales, and rolling slow along, To him, who stands remote, pitch-black it seems, And comes with tempest charged; he at the sight Shuddering, his flock compels into a cave; So moved the gloomy phalanx, rough with spears, And dense with shields of youthful warriors bold, Close-following either Ajax to the fight. Them also, pleased, the King of men beheld, And in wing'd accents hail'd them as he pass'd. Brave leaders of the mail-clad host of Greece! I move not you to duty; ye yourselves Move others, and no lesson need from me. Jove, Pallas, and Apollo! were but all Courageous as yourselves, soon Priam's towers Should totter, and his Ilium storm'd and sack'd By our victorious bands, stoop to the dust. He ceased, and still proceeding, next arrived Where stood the Pylian orator, his band Marshalling under all their leaders bold Alastor, Chromius, Pelagon the vast, Hmon the prince, and Bias, martial Chief. Chariot and horse he station'd in the front; His numerous infantry, a strong reserve Right valiant, in the rear; the worst, and those In whom he trusted least, he drove between, That such through mere necessity might act. First to his charioteers he gave in charge Their duty; bade them rein their horses hard, Shunning confusion. Let no warrior, vain And overweening of his strength or skill, Start from his rank to dare the fight alone, Or fall behind it, weakening whom he leaves. [13]And if, dismounted from his own, he climb Another's chariot, let him not affect Perverse the reins, but let him stand, his spear Advancing firm, far better so employ'd. Such was the discipline, in ancient times, Of our forefathers; by these rules they fought Successful, and laid many a city low. So counsell'd them the venerable Chief Long time expert in arms; him also saw King Agamemnon with delight, and said, Old Chief! ah how I wish, that thy firm heart Were but supported by as firm a knee! But time unhinges all. Oh that some youth Had thine old age, and thou wast young again! To whom the valiant Nestor thus replied. Atrides, I could also ardent wish That I were now robust as when I struck Brave Ereuthalion[14] breathless to the ground! But never all their gifts the Gods confer On man at once; if then I had the force Of youth, I suffer now the effects of age. Yet ancient as I am, I will be seen Still mingling with the charioteers, still prompt To give them counsel; for to counsel youth Is the old warrior's province. Let the green In years, my juniors, unimpaired by time, Push with the lance, for they have strength to boast. So he, whom Agamemnon joyful heard, And passing thence, the son of Peteos found Menestheus, foremost in equestrian fame, Among the brave Athenians; near to him Ulysses held his station, and at hand The Cephallenians stood, hardy and bold; For rumor none of the approaching fight Them yet had reach'd, so recent had the stir Arisen in either host; they, therefore, watch'd Till the example of some other band Marching, should prompt them to begin the fight, But Agamemnon, thus, the King of men Them seeing, sudden and severe reproved. Menestheus, son of Peteos prince renown'd, And thou, deviser of all evil wiles! Adept in artifice! why stand ye here Appall'd? why wait ye on this distant spot 'Till others move? I might expect from you More readiness to meet the burning war, Whom foremost I invite of all to share The banquet, when the Princes feast with me. There ye are prompt; ye find it pleasant there To eat your savory food, and quaff your wine Delicious 'till satiety ensue; But here you could be well content to stand Spectators only, while ten Grecian troops Should wage before you the wide-wasting war. To whom Ulysses, with resentful tone Dark-frowning, thus replied. What words are these Which have escaped thy lips; and for what cause, Atrides, hast thou call'd me slow to fight? When we of Greece shall in sharp contest clash With you steed-tamer Trojans, mark me then; Then thou shalt see (if the concerns of war So nearly touch thee, and thou so incline) The father of Telemachus, engaged Among the foremost Trojans. But thy speech Was light as is the wind, and rashly made. When him thus moved he saw, the monarch smiled Complacent, and in gentler terms replied. Lartes' noble son, for wiles renown'd! Short reprimand and exhortation short Suffice for thee, nor did I purpose more. For I have known thee long, that thou art one Of kindest nature, and so much my friend That we have both one heart. Go therefore thou, Lead on, and if a word have fallen amiss, We will hereafter mend it, and may heaven Obliterate in thine heart its whole effect! He ceased, and ranging still along the line, The son of Tydeus, Diomede, perceived, Heroic Chief, by chariots all around Environ'd, and by steeds, at side of whom Stood Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus. Him also, Agamemnon, King of men, In accents of asperity reproved. Ah, son of Tydeus, Chief of dauntless heart And of equestrian fame! why standest thou Appall'd, and peering through the walks of war? So did not Tydeus. In the foremost fight His favorite station was, as they affirm Who witness'd his exploits; I never saw Or met him, but by popular report He was the bravest warrior of his day. Yet came he once, but not in hostile sort, To fair Mycen, by the godlike prince Attended, Polynices, at what time The host was called together, and the siege Was purposed of the sacred city Thebes. Earnest they sued for an auxiliar band, Which we had gladly granted, but that Jove By unpropitious tokens interfered. So forth they went, and on the reedy banks Arriving of Asopus, there thy sire By designation of the Greeks was sent Ambassador, and enter'd Thebes. He found In Eteocles' palace numerous guests, The sons of Cadmus feasting, among whom, Although a solitary stranger, stood Thy father without fear, and challenged forth Their best to cope with him in manly games. Them Tydeus vanquish'd easily, such aid Pallas vouchsafed him. Then the spur-arm'd race Of Cadmus was incensed, and fifty youths In ambush close expected his return. Them, Lycophontes obstinate in fight, Son of Autophonus, and Mon, son Of Hmon, Chief of godlike stature, led. Those also Tydeus slew; Mon except, (Whom, warned from heaven, he spared, and sent him home With tidings of the rest) he slew them all. Such was tolian Tydeus; who begat A son in speech his better, not in arms. He ended, and his sovereign's awful voice Tydides reverencing, nought replied; But thus the son of glorious Capaneus. Atrides, conscious of the truth, speak truth. We with our sires compared, superior praise Claim justly.[15] We, confiding in the aid Of Jove, and in propitious signs from heaven, Led to the city consecrate to Mars Our little host, inferior far to theirs, And took seven-gated Thebes, under whose walls Our fathers by their own imprudence fell. Their glory, then, match never more with ours. He spake, whom with a frowning brow the brave Tydides answer'd. Sthenelus, my friend! I give thee counsel. Mark it. Hold thy peace. If Agamemnon, who hath charge of all, Excite his well-appointed host to war, He hath no blame from me. For should the Greeks (Her people vanquished) win imperial Troy, The glory shall be his; or, if his host O'erpower'd in battle perish, his the shame. Come, therefore; be it ours to rouse at once To action all the fury of our might. He said, and from his chariot to the plain Leap'd ardent; rang the armor on the breast Of the advancing Chief; the boldest heart Had felt emotion, startled at the sound. As when the waves by Zephyrus up-heaved Crowd fast toward some sounding shore, at first, On the broad bosom of the deep their heads They curl on high, then breaking on the land Thunder, and o'er the rocks that breast the flood Borne turgid, scatter far the showery spray; So moved the Greeks successive, rank by rank, And phalanx after phalanx, every Chief His loud command proclaiming, while the rest, As voice in all those thousands none had been Heard mute; and, in resplendent armor clad, With martial order terrible advanced. Not so the Trojans came. As sheep, the flock Of some rich man, by thousands in his court Penn'd close at milking time, incessant bleat, Loud answering all their bleating lambs without, Such din from Ilium's wide-spread host arose. Nor was their shout, nor was their accent one, But mingled languages were heard of men From various climes. These Mars to battle roused, Those Pallas azure-eyed; nor Terror thence Nor Flight was absent, nor insatiate Strife, Sister and mate of homicidal Mars, Who small at first, but swift to grow, from earth Her towering crest lifts gradual to the skies. She, foe alike to both, the brands dispersed Of burning hate between them, and the woes Enhanced of battle wheresoe'er she pass'd. And now the battle join'd. Shield clash'd with shield[16] And spear with spear, conflicting corselets rang, Boss'd bucklers met, and tumult wild arose. Then, many a yell was heard, and many a shout Loud intermix'd, the slayer o'er the maim'd Exulting, and the field was drench'd with blood. As when two winter torrents rolling down The mountains, shoot their floods through gulleys huge Into one gulf below, station'd remote The shepherd in the uplands hears the roar; Such was the thunder of the mingling hosts. And first, Antilochus a Trojan Chief Slew Echepolus, from Thalysias sprung, Contending valiant in the van of Troy. Him smiting on his crested casque, he drove The brazen lance into his front, and pierced The bones within; night overspread his eyes, And in fierce battle, like a tower, he fell. Him fallen by both feet Calchodon's son Seized, royal Elephenor, leader brave Of the Abantes, and in haste to strip His armor, drew him from the fight aside. But short was that attempt. Him so employ'd Dauntless Agenor mark'd, and as he stoop'd, In his unshielded flank a pointed spear Implanted deep; he languid sunk and died. So Elephenor fell, for whom arose Sharp conflict; Greeks and Trojans mutual flew Like wolves to battle, and man grappled man. Then Telamonian Ajax, in his prime Of youthful vigor Simisius slew,[17] Son of Anthemion. Him on Simos' banks His mother bore, when with her parents once She came from Ida down to view the flocks, And thence they named him; but his parents' He lived not to requite, in early youth Slain by the spear of Ajax famed in arms. For him advancing Ajax at the pap Wounded; right through his shoulder driven the point Stood forth behind; he fell, and press'd the dust. So in some spacious marsh the poplar falls Smooth-skinn'd, with boughs unladen save aloft; Some chariot-builder with his axe the trunk Severs, that he may warp it to a wheel Of shapely form; meantime exposed it lies To parching airs beside the running stream; Such Simisius seemed, Anthemion's son, Whom noble Ajax slew. But soon at him Antiphus, son of Priam, bright in arms, Hurl'd through the multitude his pointed spear. He erred from Ajax, but he pierced the groin Of Leucus, valiant warrior of the band Led by Ulysses. He the body dragg'd Apart, but fell beside it, and let fall, Breathless himself, the burthen from his hand. Then burn'd Ulysses' wrath for Leucus slain, And through the foremost combatants, array'd In dazzling arms, he rush'd. Full near he stood, And, looking keen around him, hurl'd a lance. Back fell the Trojans from before the face Dispersed of great Ulysses. Not in vain His weapon flew, but on the field outstretch'd A spurious son of Priam, from the shores Call'd of Abydus famed for fleetest mares, Democoon; him, for Leucus' sake enraged, Ulysses through both temples with his spear Transpierced. The night of death hung on his eyes, And sounding on his batter'd arms he fell. Then Hector and the van of Troy retired; Loud shout the Grecians; these draw off the dead, Those onward march amain, and from the heights Of Pergamus Apollo looking down In anger, to the Trojans called aloud. Turn, turn, ye Trojans! face your Grecian foes. They, like yourselves, are vulnerable flesh, Not adamant or steel. Your direst dread Achilles, son of Thetis radiant-hair'd, Fights not, but sullen in his fleet abides.[18] Such from the citadel was heard the voice Of dread Apollo. But Minerva ranged Meantime, Tritonian progeny of Jove, The Grecians, rousing whom she saw remiss. Then Amarynceus' son, Diores, felt The force of fate, bruised by a rugged rock At his right heel, which Pirus, Thracian Chief, The son of Imbrasus of nos, threw. Bones and both tendons in its fall the mass Enormous crush'd. He, stretch'd in dust supine, With palms outspread toward his warrior friends Lay gasping life away. But he who gave The fatal blow, Pirus, advancing, urged Into his navel a keen lance, and shed His bowels forth; then, darkness veil'd his eyes. Nor Pirus long survived; him through the breast Above the pap, tolian Thoas pierced, And in his lungs set fast the quivering spear. Then Thoas swift approach'd, pluck'd from the wound His stormy spear, and with his falchion bright Gashing his middle belly, stretch'd him dead. Yet stripp'd he not the slain, whom with long spears His Thracians hairy-scalp'd[19] so round about Encompassed, that though bold and large of limb Were Thoas, from before them him they thrust Staggering and reeling in his forced retreat. They therefore in the dust, the Epean Chief Diores, and the Thracian, Pirus lay Stretch'd side by side, with numerous slain around. Then had Minerva led through all that field Some warrior yet unhurt, him sheltering safe From all annoyance dread of dart or spear, No cause of blame in either had he found That day, so many Greeks and Trojans press'd, Extended side by side, the dusty plain.