The Poetry Corner

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

By William Cowper

Argument Of The Fifth Book. Diomede is extraordinarily distinguished. He kills Pandarus, who had violated the truce, and wounds first Venus and then Mars. Then Athenan Pallas on the son Of Tydeus,[1] Diomede, new force conferr'd And daring courage, that the Argives all He might surpass, and deathless fame achieve. Fires on his helmet and his shield around She kindled, bright and steady as the star Autumnal,[2] which in Ocean newly bathed Assumes fresh beauty; with such glorious beams His head encircling and his shoulders broad, She urged him forth into the thickest fight. There lived a man in Troy, Dares his name, The priest of Vulcan; rich he was and good, The father of two sons, Idus this, That, Phegeus call'd; accomplish'd warriors both. These, issuing from their phalanx, push'd direct Their steeds at Diomede, who fought on foot. When now small interval was left between, First Phegeus his long-shadow'd spear dismiss'd; But over Diomede's left shoulder pass'd The point, innocuous. Then his splendid lance Tydides hurl'd; nor ineffectual flew The weapon from his hand, but Phegeus pierced His paps between, and forced him to the ground. At once, his sumptuous chariot left, down leap'd Idsus, wanting courage to defend His brother slain; nor had he scaped himself His louring fate, but Vulcan, to preserve His ancient priest from unmixt sorrow, snatch'd The fugitive in darkness wrapt, away. Then brave Tydides, driving off the steeds, Consign'd them to his fellow-warriors' care, That they might lead them down into the fleet. The valiant Trojans, when they saw the sons Of Dares, one beside his chariot slain, And one by flight preserved, through all their host Felt consternation. Then Minerva seized The hand of fiery Mars, and thus she spake. Gore-tainted homicide, town-battering Mars! Leave we the Trojans and the Greeks to wage Fierce fight alone, Jove prospering whom he will, So shall we not provoke our father's ire. She said, and from the fight conducted forth The impetuous Deity, whom on the side She seated of Scamander deep-embank'd.[3] And now the host of Troy to flight inclined Before the Grecians, and the Chiefs of Greece Each slew a warrior. Agamemnon first Gigantic Odius from his chariot hurl'd. Chief of the Halizonians. He to flight Turn'd foremost, when the monarch in his spine Between the shoulder-bones his spear infixt, And urged it through his breast. Sounding he fell, And loud his batter'd armor rang around. By brave Idomeneus a Lydian died, Phstus, from fruitful Tarne sent to Troy, Son of Monian Borus; him his steeds Mounting, Idomeneus the spear-renown'd Through his right shoulder pierced; unwelcome night Involved him; from his chariot down he fell,[4] And the attendant Cretans stripp'd his arms. But Menelaus, son of Atreus slew With his bright spear Scamandrius, Stropius' son, A skilful hunter; for Diana him, Herself, the slaughter of all savage kinds Had taught, on mountain or in forest bred. But she, shaft-aiming Goddess, in that hour Avail'd him not, nor his own matchless skill; For Menelaus, Atreus son spear-famed, Him flying wounded in the spine between His shoulders, and the spear urged through his breast. Prone on his loud-resounding arms he fell. Next, by Meriones, Phereclus died, Son of Harmonides. All arts that ask A well-instructed hand his sire had learn'd, For Pallas dearly loved him. He the fleet, Prime source of harm to Troy and to himself, For Paris built, unskill'd to spell aright The oracles predictive of the wo. Phereclus fled; Meriones his flight Outstripping, deep in his posterior flesh A spear infix'd; sliding beneath the bone It grazed his bladder as it pass'd, and stood Protruded far before. Low on his knees Phereclus sank, and with a shriek expired. Pedus, whom, although his spurious son, Antenor's wife, to gratify her lord, Had cherish'd as her own--him Meges slew. Warlike Phylides[5] following close his flight, His keen lance drove into his poll, cut sheer His tongue within, and through his mouth enforced The glittering point. He, prostrate in the dust, The cold steel press'd between his teeth and died. Eurypylus, Evemon's son, the brave Hypsenor slew; Dolopion was his sire, Priest of Scamander, reverenced as a God. In vain before Eurypylus he fled; He, running, with his falchion lopp'd his arm Fast by the shoulder; on the field his hand Fell blood-distained, and destiny severe With shades of death for ever veil'd his eyes. Thus strenuous they the toilsome battle waged. But where Tydides fought, whether in aid Of Ilium's host, or on the part of Greece, Might none discern. For as a winter-flood Impetuous, mounds and bridges sweeps away;[6] The buttress'd bridge checks not its sudden force, The firm inclosure of vine-planted fields Luxuriant, falls before it; finish'd works Of youthful hinds, once pleasant to the eye, Now levell'd, after ceaseless rain from Jove; So drove Tydides into sudden flight The Trojans; phalanx after phalanx fled Before the terror of his single arm. When him Lycaon's son illustrious saw Scouring the field, and from before his face The ranks dispersing wide, at once he bent Against Tydides his elastic bow. The arrow met him in his swift career Sure-aim'd; it struck direct the hollow mail Of his right shoulder, with resistless force Transfix'd it, and his hauberk stain'd with blood. Loud shouted then Lycaon's son renown'd. Rush on, ye Trojans, spur your coursers hard. Our fiercest foe is wounded, and I deem His death not distant far, if me the King[7] Jove's son, indeed, from Lycia sent to Troy. So boasted Pandarus. Yet him the dart Quell'd not. Retreating, at his coursers' heads He stood, and to the son of Capaneus His charioteer and faithful friend he said. Arise, sweet son of Capaneus, dismount, And from my shoulder draw this bitter shaft. He spake; at once the son of Capaneus Descending, by its barb the bitter shaft Drew forth; blood spouted through his twisted mail Incontinent, and thus the Hero pray'd. Unconquer'd daughter of Jove gis-arm'd! If ever me, propitious, or my sire Thou hast in furious fight help'd heretofore, Now aid me also. Bring within the reach Of my swift spear, Oh grant me to strike through The warrior who hath check'd my course, and boasts The sun's bright beams for ever quench'd to me![8] He prayed, and Pallas heard; she braced his limbs, She wing'd him with alacrity divine, And, standing at his side, him thus bespake. Now Diomede, be bold! Fight now with Troy. To thee, thy father's spirit I impart Fearless; shield-shaking Tydeus felt the same. I also from thine eye the darkness purge Which dimm'd thy sight[9] before, that thou may'st know Both Gods and men; should, therefore, other God Approach to try thee, fight not with the powers Immortal; but if foam-born Venus come, Her spare not. Wound her with thy glittering spear. So spake the blue-eyed Deity, and went, Then with the champions in the van again Tydides mingled; hot before, he fights With threefold fury now, nor less enraged Than some gaunt lion whom o'erleaping light The fold, a shepherd hath but gall'd, not kill'd, Him irritating more; thenceforth the swain Lurks unresisting; flies the abandon'd flock; Heaps slain on heaps he leaves, and with a bound Surmounting all impediment, escapes; Such seem'd the valiant Diomede incensed To fury, mingling with the host of Troy. Astynos and Hypenor first he slew; One with his brazen lance above the pap He pierced, and one with his huge falchion smote Fast by the key-bone,[10] from the neck and spine His parted shoulder driving at a blow. Them leaving, Polyides next he sought And Abas, sons of a dream-dealing seer, Eurydamas; their hoary father's dreams Or not interpreted, or kept concealed, Them saved not, for by Diomede they died. Xanthus and Thon he encounter'd next, Both sons of Phnops, sons of his old age, Who other heir had none of all his wealth, Nor hoped another, worn with many years. Tydides slew them both; nor aught remain'd To the old man but sorrow for his sons For ever lost, and strangers were his heirs. Two sons of Priam in one chariot borne Echemon next, and Chromius felt his hand Resistless. As a lion on the herd Leaping, while they the shrubs and bushes browse, Breaks short the neck of heifer or of steer, So them, though clinging fast and loth to fall, Tydides hurl'd together to the ground, Then stripp'd their splendid armor, and the steeds Consigned and chariot to his soldiers' care. neas him discern'd scattering the ranks, And through the battle and the clash of spears Went seeking godlike Pandarus; ere long Finding Lycaon's martial son renown'd, He stood before him, and him thus address'd. Thy bow, thy feather'd shafts, and glorious name Where are they, Pandarus? whom none of Troy Could equal, whom of Lycia, none excel. Come. Lift thine hands to Jove, and at yon Chief Dispatch an arrow, who afflicts the host Of Ilium thus, conquering where'er he flies, And who hath slaughter'd numerous brave in arms, But him some Deity I rather deem Avenging on us his neglected rites, And who can stand before an angry God? Him answer'd then Lycaon's son renown'd. Brave leader of the Trojans brazen-mail'd, neas! By his buckler which I know, And by his helmet's height, considering, too His steeds, I deem him Diomede the bold; Yet such pronounce him not, who seems a God. But if bold Diomede indeed he be Of whom I speak, not without aid from heaven His fury thus prevails, but at his side Some God, in clouds enveloped, turns away From him the arrow to a devious course. Already, at his shoulder's hollow mail My shaft hath pierced him through, and him I deem'd Dismiss'd full sure to Pluto ere his time But he survives; whom therefore I at last Perforce conclude some angry Deity. Steeds have I none or chariot to ascend, Who have eleven chariots in the stands Left of Lycaon, with fair hangings all O'ermantled, strong, new finish'd, with their steeds In pairs beside them, eating winnow'd grain. Me much Lycaon my old valiant sire At my departure from his palace gates Persuaded, that my chariot and my steeds Ascending, I should so conduct my bands To battle; counsel wise, and ill-refused! But anxious, lest (the host in Troy so long Immew'd) my steeds, fed plenteously at home, Should here want food, I left them, and on foot To Ilium came, confiding in my bow Ordain'd at last to yield me little good. Twice have I shot, and twice I struck the mark, First Menelaus, and Tydides next; From each I drew the blood, true, genuine blood, Yet have but more incensed them. In an hour Unfortunate, I therefore took my bow Down from the wall that day, when for the sake Of noble Hector, to these pleasant plains I came, a leader on the part of Troy. But should I once return, and with these eyes Again behold my native land, my sire, My wife, my stately mansion, may the hand, That moment, of some adversary there Shorten me by the head, if I not snap This bow with which I charged myself in vain, And burn the unprofitable tool to dust. To whom neas, Trojan Chief, replied. Nay, speak not so. For ere that hour arrive We will, with chariot and with horse, in arms Encounter him, and put his strength to proof. Delay not, mount my chariot. Thou shalt see With what rapidity the steeds of Troy Pursuing or retreating, scour the field. If after all, Jove purpose still to exalt The son of Tydeus, these shall bear us safe Back to the city. Come then. Let us on. The lash take thou, and the resplendent reins, While I alight for battle, or thyself Receive them, and the steeds shall be my care. Him answer'd then Lycaon's son renown'd. neas! manage thou the reins, and guide Thy proper steeds. If fly at last we must The son of Tydeus, they will readier draw Directed by their wonted charioteer. Else, terrified, and missing thy control, They may refuse to bear us from the fight, And Tydeus' son assailing us, with ease Shall slay us both, and drive thy steeds away. Rule therefore thou the chariot, and myself With my sharp spear will his assault receive. So saying, they mounted both, and furious drove Against Tydides. Them the noble son Of Capaneus observed, and turning quick His speech to Diomede, him thus address'd. Tydides, Diomede, my heart's delight! Two warriors of immeasurable force In battle, ardent to contend with thee, Come rattling on. Lycaon's offspring one, Bow-practised Pandarus; with whom appears neas; he who calls the mighty Chief Anchises father, and whom Venus bore. Mount--drive we swift away--lest borne so far Beyond the foremost battle, thou be slain. To whom, dark-frowning, Diomede replied Speak not of flight to me, who am disposed To no such course. I am ashamed to fly Or tremble, and my strength is still entire; I cannot mount. No. Rather thus, on foot, I will advance against them. Fear and dread Are not for me; Pallas forbids the thought. One falls, be sure; swift as they are, the steeds That whirl them on, shall never rescue both. But hear my bidding, and hold fast the word. Should all-wise Pallas grant me my desire To slay them both, drive not my coursers hence, But hook the reins, and seizing quick the pair That draw neas, urge them from the powers Of Troy away into the host of Greece. For they are sprung from those which Jove to Tros In compensation gave for Ganymede; The Sun himself sees not their like below. Anchises, King of men, clandestine them Obtain'd, his mares submitting to the steeds Of King Laomedon. Six brought him foals; Four to himself reserving, in his stalls He fed them sleek, and two he gave his son: These, might we win them, were a noble prize. Thus mutual they conferr'd; those Chiefs, the while, With swiftest pace approach'd, and first his speech To Diomede Lycaon's son address'd. Heroic offspring of a noble sire, Brave son of Tydeus! false to my intent My shaft hath harm'd thee little. I will now Make trial with my spear, if that may speed. He said, and shaking his long-shadow'd spear, Dismiss'd it. Forceful on the shield it struck Of Diomede, transpierced it, and approach'd With threatening point the hauberk on his breast. Loud shouted Pandarus--Ah nobly thrown! Home to thy bowels. Die, for die thou must, And all the glory of thy death is mine. Then answer thus brave Diomede return'd Undaunted. I am whole. Thy cast was short. But ye desist not, as I plain perceive, Till one at least extended on the plain Shall sate the God of battles with his blood. He said and threw. Pallas the spear herself Directed; at his eye fast by the nose Deep-entering, through his ivory teeth it pass'd, At its extremity divided sheer His tongue, and started through his chin below. He headlong fell, and with his dazzling arms Smote full the plain. Back flew the fiery steeds With swift recoil, and where he fell he died. Then sprang neas forth with spear and shield, That none might drag the body;[11] lion-like He stalk'd around it, oval shield and spear Advancing firm, and with incessant cries Terrific, death denouncing on his foes. But Diomede with hollow grasp a stone Enormous seized, a weight to overtask Two strongest men of such as now are strong, Yet he, alone, wielded the rock with ease. Full on the hip he smote him, where the thigh Rolls in its cavity, the socket named. He crushed the socket, lacerated wide Both tendons, and with that rough-angled mass Flay'd all his flesh, The Hero on his knees Sank, on his ample palm his weight upbore Laboring, and darkness overspread his eyes. There had neas perish'd, King of men, Had not Jove's daughter Venus quick perceived His peril imminent, whom she had borne Herself to Anchises pasturing his herds. Her snowy arras her darling son around She threw maternal, and behind a fold Of her bright mantle screening close his breast From mortal harm by some brave Grecian's spear, Stole him with eager swiftness from the fight. Nor then forgat brave Sthenelus his charge Received from Diomede, but his own steeds Detaining distant from the boisterous war, Stretch'd tight the reins, and hook'd them fast behind. The coursers of neas next he seized Ardent, and them into the host of Greece Driving remote, consign'd them to his care, Whom far above all others his compeers He loved, Deipylus, his bosom friend Congenial. Him he charged to drive them thence Into the fleet, then, mounting swift his own, Lash'd after Diomede; he, fierce in arms, Pursued the Cyprian Goddess, conscious whom, Not Pallas, not Enyo, waster dread Of cities close-beleaguer'd, none of all Who o'er the battle's bloody course preside, But one of softer kind and prone to fear. When, therefore, her at length, after long chase Through all the warring multitude he reach'd, With his protruded spear her gentle hand He wounded, piercing through her thin attire Ambrosial, by themselves the graces wrought, Her inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm. Blood follow'd, but immortal; ichor pure, Such as the blest inhabitants of heaven May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not Man's food, nor slake as he with sable wine Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt. She, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son, And Phoebus, in impenetrable clouds Him hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek Should pierce his bosom, caught him swift away. Then shouted brave Tydides after her-- Depart, Jove's daughter! fly the bloody field. Is't not enough that thou beguilest the hearts Of feeble women? If thou dare intrude Again into the war, war's very name Shall make thee shudder, wheresoever heard. He said, and Venus with excess of pain Bewilder'd went; but Iris tempest-wing'd Forth led her through the multitude, oppress'd With anguish, her white wrist to livid changed. They came where Mars far on the left retired Of battle sat, his horses and his spear In darkness veil'd. Before her brother's knees She fell, and with entreaties urgent sought The succor of his coursers golden-rein'd. Save me, my brother! Pity me! Thy steeds Give me, that they may bear me to the heights Olympian, seat of the immortal Gods! Oh! I am wounded deep; a mortal man Hath done it, Diomede; nor would he fear This day in fight the Sire himself of all. Then Mars his coursers gold-caparison'd Resign'd to Venus; she, with countenance sad, The chariot climb'd, and Iris at her side The bright reins seizing lash'd the ready steeds. Soon as the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, They reach'd, wing-footed Iris loosing quick The coursers, gave them large whereon to browse Ambrosial food; but Venus on the knees Sank of Dione, who with folded arms Maternal, to her bosom straining close Her daughter, stroked her cheek, and thus inquired. My darling child! who? which of all the Gods Hath rashly done such violence to thee As if convicted of some open wrong? Her then the Goddess of love-kindling smiles Venus thus answer'd; Diomede the proud, Audacious Diomede; he gave the wound, For that I stole neas from the fight My son of all mankind my most beloved; Nor is it now the war of Greece with Troy, But of the Grecians with the Gods themselves. Then thus Dione, Goddess all divine. My child! how hard soe'er thy sufferings seem Endure them patiently. Full many a wrong From human hands profane the Gods endure, And many a painful stroke, mankind from ours. Mars once endured much wrong, when on a time Him Otus bound and Ephialtes fast, Sons of Aleus, and full thirteen moons In brazen thraldom held him. There, at length, The fierce blood-nourished Mars had pined away, But that Eriboea, loveliest nymph, His step-mother, in happy hour disclosed To Mercury the story of his wrongs; He stole the prisoner forth, but with his woes Already worn, languid and fetter-gall'd. Nor Juno less endured, when erst the bold Son of Amphytrion with tridental shaft Her bosom pierced; she then the misery felt Of irremediable pain severe. Nor suffer'd Pluto less, of all the Gods Gigantic most, by the same son of Jove Alcides, at the portals of the dead Transfix'd and fill'd with anguish; he the house Of Jove and the Olympian summit sought Dejected, torture-stung, for sore the shaft Oppress'd him, into his huge shoulder driven. But Pon[12] him not liable to death With unction smooth of salutiferous balms Heal'd soon. Presumptuous, sacrilegious man! Careless what dire enormities he wrought, Who bent his bow against the powers of heaven! But blue-eyed Pallas instigated him By whom thou bleed'st. Infatuate! he forgets That whoso turns against the Gods his arm Lives never long; he never, safe escaped From furious fight, the lisp'd caresses hears Of his own infants prattling at his knees. Let therefore Diomede beware, lest strong And valiant as he is, he chance to meet Some mightier foe than thou, and lest his wife, Daughter of King Adrastus, the discrete gialea, from portentous dreams Upstarting, call her family to wail Her first-espoused, Achaia's proudest boast, Diomede, whom she must behold no more. She said, and from her wrist with both hands wiped The trickling ichor; the effectual touch Divine chased all her pains, and she was heal'd. Them Juno mark'd and Pallas, and with speech Sarcastic pointed at Saturnian Jove To vex him, blue-eyed Pallas thus began. Eternal father! may I speak my thought, And not incense thee, Jove? I can but judge That Venus, while she coax'd some Grecian fair To accompany the Trojans whom she loves With such extravagance, hath heedless stroked Her golden clasps, and scratch'd her lily hand. So she; then smiled the sire of Gods and men, And calling golden Venus, her bespake. War and the tented field, my beauteous child, Are not for thee. Thou rather shouldst be found In scenes of matrimonial bliss. The toils Of war to Pallas and to Mars belong. Thus they in heaven. But Diomede the while Sprang on neas, conscious of the God Whose hand o'ershadow'd him, yet even him Regarding lightly; for he burn'd to slay neas, and to seize his glorious arms. Thrice then he sprang impetuous to the deed, And thrice Apollo with his radiant shield Repulsed him. But when ardent as a God The fourth time he advanced, with thundering-voice Him thus the Archer of the skies rebuked. Think, and retire, Tydides! nor affect Equality with Gods; for not the same Our nature is and theirs who tread the ground. He spake, and Diomede a step retired, Not more; the anger of the Archer-God Declining slow, and with a sullen awe. Then Phoebus, far from all the warrior throng To his own shrine the sacred dome beneath Of Pergamus, neas bore; there him Latona and shaft-arm'd Diana heal'd And glorified within their spacious fane. Meantime the Archer of the silver bow A visionary form prepared; it seem'd Himself neas, and was arm'd as he. At once, in contest for that airy form, Grecians and Trojans on each other's breasts The bull-hide buckler batter'd and light targe. Then thus Apollo to the warrior God. Gore-tainted homicide, town-batterer Mars! Wilt thou not meet and from the fight withdraw This man Tydides, now so fiery grown That he would even cope with Jove himself? First Venus' hand he wounded, and assail'd Impetuous as a God, next, even me. He ceased, and on the topmost turret sat Of Pergamus. Then all-destroyer Mars Ranging the Trojan host, rank after rank Exhorted loud, and in the form assumed Of Acamas the Thracian leader bold, The godlike sons of Priam thus harangued. Ye sons of Priam, monarch Jove-beloved! How long permit ye your Achaian foes To slay the people?--till the battle rage (Push'd home to Ilium) at her solid gates? Behold--a Chief disabled lies, than whom We reverence not even Hector more, neas; fly, save from the roaring storm The noble Anchisiades your friend. He said; then every heart for battle glow'd; And thus Sarpedon with rebuke severe Upbraiding generous Hector, stern began. Where is thy courage, Hector? for thou once Hadst courage. Is it fled? In other days Thy boast hath been that without native troops Or foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself Alone, were guard sufficient for the town. But none of all thy kindred now appears; I can discover none; they stand aloof Quaking, as dogs that hear the lion's roar. We bear the stress, who are but Troy's allies; Myself am such, and from afar I came; For Lycia lies far distant on the banks Of the deep-eddied Xanthus. There a wife I left and infant son, both dear to me, With plenteous wealth, the wish of all who want. Yet urge I still my Lycians, and am prompt Myself to fight, although possessing here Nought that the Greeks can carry or drive hence. But there stand'st thou, neither employed thyself, Nor moving others to an active part For all their dearest pledges. Oh beware! Lest, as with meshes of an ample net, At one huge draught the Grecians sweep you all, And desolate at once your populous Troy! By day, by night, thoughts such as these should still Thy conduct influence, and from Chief to Chief Of the allies should send thee, praying each To make firm stand, all bickerings put away. So spake Sarpedon, and his reprimand Stung Hector; instant to the ground he leap'd All arm'd, and shaking his bright spears his host Ranged in all quarters animating loud His legions, and rekindling horrid war. Then, rolling back, the powers of Troy opposed Once more the Grecians, whom the Grecians dense Expected, unretreating, void of fear. As flies the chaff wide scatter'd by the wind O'er all the consecrated floor, what time Ripe Ceres[13] with brisk airs her golden grain Ventilates, whitening with its husk the ground; So grew the Achaians white, a dusty cloud Descending on their arms, which steeds with steeds Again to battle mingling, with their hoofs Up-stamp'd into the brazen vault of heaven; For now the charioteers turn'd all to fight. Host toward host with full collected force They moved direct. Then Mars through all the field Took wide his range, and overhung the war With night, in aid of Troy, at the command Of Phoebus of the golden sword; for he Perceiving Pallas from the field withdrawn, Patroness of the Greeks, had Mars enjoin'd To rouse the spirit of the Trojan host. Meantime Apollo from his unctuous shrine Sent forth restored and with new force inspired neas. He amidst his warriors stood, Who him with joy beheld still living, heal'd, And all his strength possessing unimpair'd. Yet no man ask'd him aught. No leisure now For question was; far other thoughts had they; Such toils the archer of the silver bow, Wide-slaughtering Mars, and Discord as at first Raging implacable, for them prepared. Ulysses, either Ajax, Diomede-- These roused the Greeks to battle, who themselves The force fear'd nothing, or the shouts of Troy, But steadfast stood, like clouds by Jove amass'd On lofty mountains, while the fury sleeps Of Boreas, and of all the stormy winds Shrill-voiced, that chase the vapors when they blow, So stood the Greeks, expecting firm the approach Of Ilium's powers, and neither fled nor fear'd. Then Agamemnon the embattled host On all sides ranging, cheer'd them. Now, he cried, Be steadfast, fellow warriors, now be men! Hold fast a sense of honor. More escape Of men who fear disgrace, than fall in fight, While dastards forfeit life and glory both. He said, and hurl'd his spear. He pierced a friend Of brave neas, warring in the van, Deicon son of Pergasus, in Troy Not less esteem'd than Priam's sons themselves, Such was his fame in foremost fight acquired. Him Agamemnon on his buckler smote, Nor stayed the weapon there, but through his belt His bowels enter'd, and with hideous clang And outcry[14] of his batter'd arms he fell. neas next two mightiest warriors slew, Sons of Diocles, of a wealthy sire, Whose house magnificent in Phr stood, Orsilochus and Crethon. Their descent From broad-stream'd Alpheus, Pylian flood, they drew. Alpheus begat Orsilochus, a prince Of numerous powers. Orsilochus begat Warlike Diodes. From Diodes sprang Twins, Crethon and Orsilochus, alike Valiant, and skilful in all forms of war. Their boyish prime scarce past, they, with the Greeks Embarking, in their sable ships had sail'd To steed-fam'd Ilium; just revenge they sought For Atreus' sons, but perished first themselves. As two young lions, in the deep recess Of some dark forest on the mountain's brow Late nourished by their dam, forth-issuing, seize The fatted flocks and kine, both folds and stalls Wasting rapacious, till, at length, themselves Deep-wounded perish by the hand of man, So they, both vanquish'd by neas, fell, And like two lofty pines uprooted, lay. Them fallen in battle Menelaus saw With pity moved; radiant in arms he shook His brazen spear, and strode into the van. Mars urged him furious on, conceiving hope Of his death also by neas' hand. But him the son of generous Nestor mark'd Antilochus, and to the foremost fight Flew also, fearing lest some dire mischance The Prince befalling, at one fatal stroke Should frustrate all the labors of the Greeks. They, hand to hand, and spear to spear opposed, Stood threatening dreadful onset, when beside The Spartan chief Antilochus appear'd. neas, at the sight of two combined, Stood not, although intrepid. They the dead Thence drawing far into the Grecian host To their associates gave the hapless pair, Then, both returning, fought in front again. Next, fierce as Mars, Pylmenes they slew, Prince of the shielded band magnanimous Of Paphlagonia. Him Atrides kill'd Spear-practised Menelaus, with a lance His throat transpiercing while erect he rode. Then, while his charioteer, Mydon the brave, Son of Atymnias, turn'd his steeds to flight, Full on his elbow-point Antilochus, The son of Nestor, dash'd him with a stone. The slack reins, white as ivory,[15] forsook His torpid hand and trail'd the dust. At once Forth sprang Antilochus, and with his sword Hew'd deep his temples. On his head he pitch'd Panting, and on his shoulders in the sand (For in deep sand he fell) stood long erect, Till his own coursers spread him in the dust; The son of Nestor seized, and with his scourge Drove them afar into the host of Greece. Them Hector through the ranks espying, flew With clamor loud to meet them; after whom Advanced in phalanx firm the powers of Troy, Mars led them, with Enyo terror-clad; She by the maddening tumult of the fight Attended, he, with his enormous spear in both hands brandish'd, stalking now in front Of Hector, and now following his steps. Him Diomede the bold discerning, felt Himself no small dismay; and as a man Wandering he knows not whither, far from home, If chance a rapid torrent to the sea Borne headlong thwart his course, the foaming flood Obstreperous views awhile, then quick retires, So he, and his attendants thus bespake. How oft, my countrymen! have we admired The noble Hector, skillful at the spear And unappall'd in fight? but still hath he Some God his guard, and even now I view In human form Mars moving at his side. Ye, then, with faces to the Trojans turn'd, Ceaseless retire, and war not with the Gods. He ended; and the Trojans now approach'd. Then two bold warriors in one chariot borne, By valiant Hector died, Menesthes one, And one, Anchialus. Them fallen in fight Ajax the vast, touch'd with compassion saw; Within small space he stood, his glittering spear Dismiss'd, and pierced Amphius. Son was he Of Selagus, and Psus was his home, Where opulent he dwelt, but by his fate Was led to fight for Priam and his sons. Him Telamonian Ajax through his belt Wounded, and in his nether bowels deep Fix'd his long-shadow'd spear. Sounding he fell. Illustrious Ajax running to the slain Prepared to strip his arms, but him a shower Of glittering-weapons keen from Trojan hands Assail'd, and numerous his broad shield received. He, on the body planting firm his heel, Forth drew the polish'd spear, but his bright arms Took not, by darts thick-flying sore annoy'd, Nor fear'd he little lest his haughty foes, Spear-arm'd and bold, should compass him around; Him, therefore, valiant though he were and huge, They push'd before them. Staggering he retired. Thus toil'd both hosts in that laborious field. And now his ruthless destiny impell'd Tlepolemus, Alcides' son, a Chief Dauntless and huge, against a godlike foe Sarpedon. They approaching face to face Stood, son and grandson of high-thundering Jove, And, haughty, thus Tlepolemus began. Sarpedon, leader of the Lycian host, Thou trembler! thee what cause could hither urge A man unskill'd in arms? They falsely speak Who call thee son of gis-bearing Jove, So far below their might thou fall'st who sprang From Jove in days of old. What says report Of Hercules (for him I boast my sire) All-daring hero with a lion's heart? With six ships only, and with followers few, He for the horses of Laomedon Lay'd Troy in dust, and widow'd all her streets. But thou art base, and thy diminish'd powers Perish around thee; think not that thou earnest For Ilium's good, but rather, whatsoe'er Thy force in fight, to find, subdued by me, A sure dismission to the gates of hell. To whom the leader of the Lycian band. Tlepolemus! he ransack'd sacred Troy, As thou hast said, but for her monarch's fault Laomedon, who him with language harsh Requited ill for benefits received, Nor would the steeds surrender, seeking which He voyaged from afar. But thou shalt take Thy bloody doom from this victorious arm, And, vanquish'd by my spear, shalt yield thy fame To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown'd. So spake Sarpedon, and his ashen beam Tlepolemus upraised. Both hurl'd at once Their quivering spears. Sarpedon's through the neck Pass'd of Tlepolemus, and show'd beyond Its ruthless point; thick darkness veil'd his eyes. Tlepolemus with his long lance the thigh Pierced of Sarpedon; sheer into his bone He pierced him, but Sarpedon's father, Jove, Him rescued even on the verge of fate. His noble friends conducted from the field The godlike Lycian, trailing as he went The pendent spear, none thinking to extract For his relief the weapon from his thigh, Through eagerness of haste to bear him thence. On the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail'd Bore off Tlepolemus. Ulysses fill'd With earnest thoughts tumultuous them observed, Danger-defying Chief! Doubtful he stood Or to pursue at once the Thunderer's son Sarpedon, or to take more Lycian lives. But not for brave Ulysses had his fate That praise reserved, that he should slay the son Renown'd of Jove; therefore his wavering mind Minerva bent against the Lycian band. Then Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius fell, Alcander, Halius, Prytanis, and brave Nomon; nor had these sufficed the Chief Of Ithaca, but Lycians more had fallen, Had not crest-tossing Hector huge perceived The havoc; radiant to the van he flew, Filling with dread the Grecians; his approach Sarpedon, son of Jove, joyful beheld, And piteous thus address'd him as he came. Ah, leave not me, Priamides! a prey To Grecian hands, but in your city, at least, Grant me to die: since hither, doom'd, I came Never to gratify with my return To Lycia, my loved spouse, or infant child. He spake; but Hector unreplying pass'd Impetuous, ardent to repulse the Greeks That moment, and to drench his sword in blood. Then, under shelter of a spreading beech Sacred to Jove, his noble followers placed The godlike Chief Sarpedon, where his friend Illustrious Pelagon, the ashen spear Extracted. Sightless, of all thought bereft, He sank, but soon revived, by breathing airs Refresh'd, that fann'd him gently from the North. Meantime the Argives, although press'd alike By Mars himself and Hector brazen-arm'd, Neither to flight inclined, nor yet advanced To battle, but inform'd that Mars the fight Waged on the side of Ilium, slow retired.[16] Whom first, whom last slew then the mighty son Of Priam, Hector, and the brazen Mars! First godlike Teuthras, an equestrian Chief, Orestes, Trechus of tolian race, OEnomas, Helenus from OEnops' sprung, And brisk[17] in fight Oresbius; rich was he, And covetous of more; in Hyla dwelt Fast by the lake Cephissus, where abode Boeotian Princes numerous, rich themselves And rulers of a people wealth-renown'd. But Juno, such dread slaughter of the Greeks Noting, thus, ardent, to Minerva spake. Daughter of Jove invincible! Our word That Troy shall perish, hath been given in vain To Menelaus, if we suffer Mars To ravage longer uncontrol'd. The time Urges, and need appears that we ourselves Now call to mind the fury of our might. She spake; nor blue-eyed Pallas not complied. Then Juno, Goddess dread, from Saturn sprung, Her coursers gold-caparison'd prepared Impatient. Hebe to the chariot roll'd The brazen wheels,[18] and joined them to the smooth Steel axle; twice four spokes divided each Shot from the centre to the verge. The verge Was gold by fellies of eternal brass Guarded, a dazzling show! The shining naves Were silver; silver cords and cords of gold The seat upbore; two crescents[19] blazed in front. The pole was argent all, to which she bound The golden yoke, and in their place disposed The breast-bands incorruptible of gold; But Juno to the yoke, herself, the steeds Led forth, on fire to reach the dreadful field. Meantime, Minerva, progeny of Jove, On the adamantine floor of his abode Let fall profuse her variegated robe, Labor of her own hands. She first put on The corselet of the cloud-assembler God, Then arm'd her for the field of wo complete. She charged her shoulder with the dreadful shield The shaggy gis,[20] border'd thick around With terror; there was Discord, Prowess there, There hot Pursuit, and there the feature grim Of Gorgon, dire Deformity, a sign Oft borne portentous on the arm of Jove. Her golden helm, whose concave had sufficed The legions of an hundred cities, rough With warlike ornament superb, she fix'd On her immortal head. Thus arm'd, she rose Into the flaming chariot, and her spear Seized ponderous, huge, with which the Goddess sprung From an Almighty father, levels ranks Of heroes, against whom her anger burns. Juno with lifted lash urged quick the steeds; At her approach, spontaneous roar'd the wide- Unfolding gates of heaven;[21] the heavenly gates Kept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge Of the Olympian summit appertains, And of the boundless ether, back to roll, And to replace the cloudy barrier dense. Spurr'd through the portal flew the rapid steeds; Apart from all, and seated on the point Superior of the cloven mount, they found The Thunderer. Juno the white-arm'd her steeds There stay'd, and thus the Goddess, ere she pass'd, Question'd the son of Saturn, Jove supreme. Jove, Father, seest thou, and art not incensed, These ravages of Mars? Oh what a field, Drench'd with what Grecian blood! All rashly spilt, And in despite of me. Venus, the while, Sits, and the Archer of the silver bow Delighted, and have urged, themselves, to this The frantic Mars within no bounds confined Of law or order. But, eternal sire! Shall I offend thee chasing far away Mars deeply smitten from the field of war? To whom the cloud-assembler God replied. Go! but exhort thou rather to the task Spoil-huntress Athenan Pallas, him Accustom'd to chastise with pain severe. He spake, nor white-arm'd Juno not obey'd. She lash'd her steeds; they readily their flight Began, the earth and starry vault between. Far as from his high tower the watchman kens O'er gloomy ocean, so far at one bound Advance the shrill-voiced coursers of the Gods. But when at Troy and at the confluent streams Of Simos and Scamander they arrived, There Juno, white-arm'd Goddess, from the yoke Her steeds releasing, them in gather'd shades Conceal'd opaque, while Simos caused to spring Ambrosia from his bank, whereon they browsed. Swift as her pinions waft the dove away They sought the Grecians, ardent to begin: Arriving where the mightiest and the most Compass'd equestrian Diomede around, In aspect lion-like, or like wild boars Of matchless force, there white-arm'd Juno stood, And in the form of Stentor for his voice Of brass renown'd, audible as the roar Of fifty throats, the Grecians thus harangued. Oh shame, shame, shame! Argives in form alone, Beautiful but dishonorable race! While yet divine Achilles ranged the field, No Trojan stepp'd from yon Dardanian gates Abroad; all trembled at his stormy spear; But now they venture forth, now at your ships Defy you, from their city far remote. She ceased, and all caught courage from the sound. But Athenan Pallas eager sought The son of Tydeus; at his chariot side She found the Chief cooling his fiery wound Received from Pandarus; for him the sweat Beneath the broad band of his oval shield Exhausted, and his arm fail'd him fatigued; He therefore raised the band and wiped the blood Coagulate; when o'er his chariot yoke Her arm the Goddess threw, and thus began. Tydeus, in truth, begat a son himself Not much resembling. Tydeus was of size Diminutive, but had a warrior's heart. When him I once commanded to abstain From furious fight (what time he enter'd Thebes Ambassador, and the Cadmeans found Feasting, himself the sole Achaian there) And bade him quietly partake the feast. He, fired with wonted ardor, challenged forth To proof of manhood the Cadmean youth, Whom easily, through my effectual aid, In contests of each kind he overcame. But thou, whom I encircle with my power, Guard vigilant, and even bid thee forth To combat with the Trojans, thou, thy limbs Feel'st wearied with the toils of war, or worse, Indulgest womanish and heartless fear. Henceforth thou art not worthy to be deem'd Son of Oenides, Tydeus famed in arms. To whom thus valiant Diomede replied. I know thee well, oh Goddess sprung from Jove! And therefore willing shall, and plain, reply. Me neither weariness nor heartless fear Restrains, but thine injunctions which impress My memory, still, that I should fear to oppose The blessed Gods in fight, Venus except, Whom in the battle found thou badest me pierce With unrelenting spear; therefore myself Retiring hither, I have hither call'd The other Argives also, for I know That Mars, himself in arms, controls the war. Him answer'd then the Goddess azure-eyed. Tydides! Diomede, my heart's delight! Fear not this Mars,[22] nor fear thou other power Immortal, but be confident in me. Arise. Drive forth. Seek Mars; him only seek; Him hand to hand engage; this fiery Mars Respect not aught, base implement of wrong And mischief, shifting still from side to side. He promised Juno lately and myself That he would fight for Greece, yet now forgets His promise, and gives all his aid to Troy. So saying, she backward by his hand withdrew The son of Capaneus, who to the ground Leap'd instant; she, impatient to his place Ascending, sat beside brave Diomede. Loud groan'd the beechen axle, under weight Unwonted, for it bore into the fight An awful Goddess, and the chief of men. Quick-seizing lash and reins Minerva drove Direct at Mars. That moment he had slain Periphas, bravest of tolia's sons, And huge of bulk; Ochesius was his sire. Him Mars the slaughterer had of life bereft Newly, and Pallas to elude his sight The helmet fixed of Ades on her head.[23] Soon as gore-tainted Mars the approach perceived Of Diomede, he left the giant length Of Periphas extended where he died, And flew to cope with Tydeus' valiant son. Full nigh they came, when Mars on fire to slay The hero, foremost with his brazen lance Assail'd him, hurling o'er his horses' heads. But Athenan Pallas in her hand The flying weapon caught and turn'd it wide, Baffling his aim. Then Diomede on him Rush'd furious in his turn, and Pallas plunged The bright spear deep into his cinctured waist Dire was the wound, and plucking back the spear She tore him. Bellow'd brazen-throated Mars Loud as nine thousand warriors, or as ten Join'd in close combat. Grecians, Trojans shook Appall'd alike at the tremendous voice Of Mars insatiable with deeds of blood. Such as the dimness is when summer winds Breathe hot, and sultry mist obscures the sky, Such brazen Mars to Diomede appear'd By clouds accompanied in his ascent Into the boundless ether. Reaching soon The Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, he sat Beside Saturnian Jove; wo fill'd his heart; He show'd fast-streaming from the wound his blood Immortal, and impatient thus complain'd. Jove, Father! Seest thou these outrageous acts Unmoved with anger? Such are day by day The dreadful mischiefs by the Gods contrived Against each other, for the sake of man. Thou art thyself the cause. Thou hast produced A foolish daughter petulant, addict To evil only and injurious deeds; There is not in Olympus, save herself, Who feels not thy control; but she her will Gratifies ever, and reproof from thee Finds none, because, pernicious as she is, She is thy daughter. She hath now the mind Of haughty Diomede with madness fill'd Against the immortal Gods; first Venus bled; Her hand he pierced impetuous, then assail'd, As if himself immortal, even me, But me my feet stole thence, or overwhelm'd Beneath yon heaps of carcases impure, What had I not sustain'd? And if at last I lived, had halted crippled by the sword. To whom with dark displeasure Jove replied. Base and side-shifting traitor! vex not me Here sitting querulous; of all who dwell On the Olympian heights, thee most I hate Contentious, whose delight is war alone. Thou hast thy mother's moods, the very spleen Of Juno, uncontrolable as she. Whom even I, reprove her as I may, Scarce rule by mere commands; I therefore judge Thy sufferings a contrivance all her own. But soft. Thou art my son whom I begat. And Juno bare thee. I can not endure That thou shouldst suffer long. Hadst thou been born Of other parents thus detestable, What Deity soe'er had brought thee forth, Thou shouldst have found long since a humbler sphere. He ceased, and to the care his son consign'd Of Pon; he with drugs of lenient powers, Soon heal'd whom immortality secured From dissolution. As the juice from figs Express'd what fluid was in milk before Coagulates, stirr'd rapidly around, So soon was Mars by Pon skill restored. Him Hebe bathed, and with divine attire Graceful adorn'd; when at the side of Jove Again his glorious seat sublime he took. Meantime to the abode of Jove supreme Ascended Juno throughout Argos known And mighty Pallas; Mars the plague of man, By their successful force from slaughter driven.