The Poetry Corner

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

By William Cowper

Argument Of The Seventeenth Book. Sharp contest ensues around the body of Patroclus. Hector puts on the armor of Achilles. Menelaus, having dispatched Antilochus to Achilles with news of the death of Patroclus, returns to the battle, and, together with Meriones, bears Patroclus off the field, while the Ajaces cover their retreat. Nor Menelaus, Atreus' valiant son, Knew not how Menoetiades had fallen By Trojan hands in battle; forth he rush'd All bright in burnish'd armor through his van, And as some heifer with maternal fears Now first acquainted, compasses around Her young one murmuring, with tender moan, So moved the hero of the amber locks Around Patroclus, before whom his spear Advancing and broad shield, he death denounced On all opposers; neither stood the son Spear-famed of Panthus inattentive long To slain Patroclus, but approach'd the dead, And warlike Menelaus thus bespake. Prince! Menelaus! Atreus' mighty son! Yield. Leave the body and these gory spoils; For of the Trojans or allies of Troy None sooner made Patroclus bleed than I. Seek not to rob me, therefore, of my praise Among the Trojans, lest my spear assail Thee also, and thou perish premature.[1] To whom, indignant, Atreus' son replied. Self-praise, the Gods do know, is little worth. But neither lion may in pride compare Nor panther, nor the savage boar whose heart's High temper flashes in his eyes, with these The spear accomplish'd youths of Panthus' house. Yet Hyperenor of equestrian fame Lived not his lusty manhood to enjoy, Who scoffingly defied my force in arms, And call'd me most contemptible in fight Of all the Dana. But him, I ween, His feet bore never hence to cheer at home His wife and parents with his glad return. So also shall thy courage fierce be tamed, If thou oppose me. I command thee, go-- Mix with the multitude; withstand not me, Lest evil overtake thee! To be taught By sufferings only, is the part of fools. He said, but him sway'd not, who thus replied. Now, even now, Atrides! thou shalt rue My brother's blood which thou hast shed, and mak'st His death thy boast. Thou hast his blooming bride Widow'd, and thou hast fill'd his parents' hearts With anguish of unutterable wo; But bearing hence thy armor and thy head To Troy, and casting them at Panthus' feet, And at the feet of Phrontis, his espoused, I shall console the miserable pair. Nor will I leave that service unessay'd Longer, nor will I fail through want of force, Of courage, or of terrible address. He ceased, and smote his shield, nor pierced the disk, But bent his point against the stubborn brass. Then Menelaus, prayer preferring first To Jove,[2] assail'd Euphorbus in his turn, Whom pacing backward in the throat he struck, And both hands and his full force the spear Impelled, urged it through his neck behind. Sounding he fell; loud rang his batter'd arms. His locks, which even the Graces might have own'd, Blood-sullied, and his ringlets wound about With twine of gold and silver, swept the dust. As the luxuriant olive by a swain Rear'd in some solitude where rills abound, Puts forth her buds, and fann'd by genial airs On all sides, hangs her boughs with whitest flowers, But by a sudden whirlwind from its trench Uptorn, it lies extended on the field; Such, Panthus' warlike son Euphorbus seem'd, By Menelaus, son of Atreus, slain Suddenly, and of all his arms despoil'd. But as the lion on the mountains bred, Glorious in strength, when he hath seized the best And fairest of the herd, with savage fangs First breaks her neck, then laps the bloody paunch Torn wide; meantime, around him, but remote, Dogs stand and swains clamoring, yet by fear Repress'd, annoy him not nor dare approach; So there all wanted courage to oppose The force of Menelaus, glorious Chief. Then, easily had Menelaus borne The armor of the son of Panthus thence, But that Apollo the illustrious prize Denied him, who in semblance of the Chief Of the Ciconians, Mentes, prompted forth Against him Hector terrible as Mars, Whose spirit thus in accents wing'd he roused. Hector! the chase is vain; here thou pursuest The horses of acides the brave, Which thou shalt never win, for they are steeds Of fiery nature, such as ill endure To draw or carry mortal man, himself Except, whom an immortal mother bore. Meantime, bold Menelaus, in defence Of dead Patroclus, hath a Trojan slain Of highest note, Euphorbus, Panthus' son, And hath his might in arms for ever quell'd. So spake the God and to the fight return'd. But grief intolerable at that word Seized Hector; darting through the ranks his eye, He knew at once who stripp'd Euphorbus' arms, And him knew also lying on the field, And from his wide wound bleeding copious still. Then dazzling bright in arms, through all the van He flew, shrill-shouting, fierce as Vulcan's fire Unquenchable; nor were his shouts unheard By Atreus' son, who with his noble mind Conferring sad, thus to himself began. Alas! if I forsake these gorgeous spoils, And leave Patroclus for my glory slain, I fear lest the Achaians at that sight Incensed, reproach me; and if, urged by shame, I fight with Hector and his host, alone, Lest, hemm'd around by multitudes, I fall; For Hector, by his whole embattled force Attended, comes. But whither tend my thoughts? No man may combat with another fenced By power divine and whom the Gods exalt, But he must draw down wo on his own head. Me, therefore, none of all Achaia's host Will blame indignant, seeing my retreat From Hector, whom themselves the Gods assist. But might the battle-shout of Ajax once Reach me, with force united we would strive, Even in opposition to a God, To rescue for Achilles' sake, his friend. Task arduous! but less arduous than this. While he thus meditated, swift advanced The Trojan ranks, with Hector at their head. He then, retiring slow, and turning oft, Forsook the body. As by dogs and swains With clamors loud and spears driven from the stalls A bearded lion goes, his noble heart Abhors retreat, and slow he quits the prey; So Menelaus with slow steps forsook Patroclus, and arrived in front, at length, Of his own phalanx, stood, with sharpen'd eyes Seeking vast Ajax, son of Telamon. Him leftward, soon, of all the field he mark'd Encouraging aloud his band, whose hearts With terrors irresistible himself Phoebus had fill'd. He ran, and at his side Standing, incontinent him thus bespake. My gallant Ajax, haste--come quickly--strive With me to rescue for Achilles' sake His friend, though bare, for Hector hath his arms. He said, and by his words the noble mind Of Ajax roused; issuing through the van He went, and Menelaus at his side. Hector the body of Patroclus dragg'd, Stript of his arms, with falchion keen erelong Purposing to strike off his head, and cast His trunk, drawn distant, to the dogs of Troy. But Ajax, with broad shield tower-like, approach'd. Then Hector, to his bands retreating, sprang Into his chariot, and to others gave The splendid arms in charge, who into Troy Should bear the destined trophy of his praise, But Ajax with his broad shield guarding stood Slain Menoetiades, as for his whelps The lion stands; him through some forest drear Leading his little ones, the hunters meet; Fire glimmers in his looks, and down he draws His whole brow into frowns, covering his eyes; So, guarding slain Patroclus, Ajax lour'd. On the other side, with tender grief oppress'd Unspeakable, brave Menelaus stood. But Glaucus, leader of the Lycian band, Son of Hippolochus, in bitter terms Indignant, reprimanded Hector thus, Ah, Hector, Chieftain of excelling form, But all unfurnish'd with a warrior's heart! Unwarranted I deem thy great renown Who art to flight addicted. Think, henceforth, How ye shall save city and citadel Thou and thy people born in Troy, alone. No Lycian shall, at least, in your defence Fight with the Grecians, for our ceaseless toil In arms, hath ever been a thankless task. Inglorious Chief! how wilt thou save a worse From warring crowds, who hast Sarpedon left Thy guest, thy friend, to be a spoil, a prey To yonder Argives? While he lived he much Thee and thy city profited, whom dead Thou fear'st to rescue even from the dogs. Now, therefore, may but my advice prevail, Back to your country, Lycians! so, at once, Shall remediless ruin fall on Troy. For had the Trojans now a daring heart Intrepid, such as in the breast resides Of laborers in their country's dear behalf, We soon should drag Patroclus into Troy; And were his body, from the battle drawn, In Priam's royal city once secured, As soon, the Argives would in ransom give Sarpedon's body with his splendid arms To be conducted safe into the town. For when Patroclus fell, the friend was slain Of such a Chief as is not in the fleet For valor, and his bands are dauntless all. But thou, at the first glimpse of Ajax' eye Confounded, hast not dared in arms to face That warrior bold, superior far to thee. To whom brave Hector, frowning stern, replied, Why, Glaucus! should a Chief like thee his tongue Presume to employ thus haughtily? My friend! I thee accounted wisest, once, of all Who dwell in fruitful Lycia, but thy speech Now utter'd altogether merits blame, In which thou tell'st me that I fear to stand Against vast Ajax. Know that I from fight Shrink not, nor yet from sound of prancing steeds; But Jove's high purpose evermore prevails Against the thoughts of man; he turns to flight The bravest, and the victory takes with ease Even from those whom once he favor'd most. But hither, friend! stand with me; mark my deed; Prove me, if I be found, as thou hast said, An idler all the day, or if by force I not compel some Grecian to renounce Patroclus, even the boldest of them all. He ceased, and to his host exclaim'd aloud. Trojans, and Lycians, and close-fighting sons Of Dardanus, oh be ye men, my friends! Now summon all your fortitude, while I Put on the armor of Achilles, won From the renown'd Patroclus slain by me. So saying, illustrious Hector from the clash Of spears withdrew, and with his swiftest pace Departing, overtook, not far remote, The bearers of Achilles' arms to Troy. Apart from all the horrors of the field Standing, he changed his armor; gave his own To be by them to sacred Ilium borne, And the immortal arms of Peleus' son Achilles, by the ever-living Gods To Peles given, put on. Those arms the Sire, Now old himself, had on his son conferr'd But in those arms his son grew never old. Him, therefore, soon as cloud-assembler Jove Saw glittering in divine Achilles' arms, Contemplative he shook his brows, and said, Ah hapless Chief! thy death, although at hand, Nought troubles thee. Thou wear'st his heavenly Who all excels, terror of Ilium's host. His friend, though bold yet gentle, thou hast slain And hast the brows and bosom of the dead Unseemly bared: yet, bright success awhile I give thee; so compensating thy lot, From whom Andromache shall ne'er receive Those glorious arms, for thou shalt ne'er return. So spake the Thunderer, and his sable brows Shaking, confirm'd the word. But Hector found The armor apt; the God of war his soul With fury fill'd, he felt his limbs afresh Invigorated, and with loudest shouts Return'd to his illustrious allies. To them he seem'd, clad in those radiant arms, Himself Achilles; rank by rank he pass'd Through all the host, exhorting every Chief, Asteropus, Mesthles, Phorcys, Medon, Thersilochus, Deisenor, augur Ennomus, Chromius, Hippothos; all these he roused To battle, and in accents wing'd began. Hear me, ye myriads, neighbors and allies! For not through fond desire to fill the plain With multitudes, have I convened you here Each from his city, but that well-inclined To Ilium, ye might help to guard our wives And little ones against the host of Greece. Therefore it is that forage large and gifts Providing for you, I exhaust the stores Of Troy, and drain our people for your sake. Turn then direct against them, and his life Save each, or lose; it is the course of war. Him who shall drag, though dead, Patroclus home Into the host of Troy, and shall repulse Ajax, I will reward with half the spoils And half shall be my own; glory and praise Shall also be his meed, equal to mine. He ended; they compact with lifted spears Bore on the Dana, conceiving each Warm expectation in his heart to wrest From Ajax son of Telamon, the dead. Vain hope! he many a lifeless Trojan heap'd On slain Patroclus, but at length his speech To warlike Menelaus thus address'd. Ah, Menelaus, valiant friend! I hope No longer, now, that even we shall 'scape Ourselves from fight; nor fear I so the loss Of dead Patroclus, who shall soon the dogs Of Ilium, and the fowls sate with his flesh, As for my life I tremble and for thine, That cloud of battle, Hector, such a gloom Sheds all around; death manifest impends. Haste--call our best, if even they can hear. He spake, nor Menelaus not complied, But call'd aloud on all the Chiefs of Greece. Friends, senators, and leaders of the powers Of Argos! who with Agamemnon drink And Menelaus at the public feast, Each bearing rule o'er many, by the will Of Jove advanced to honor and renown! The task were difficult to single out Chief after Chief by name amid the blaze Of such contention; but oh, come yourselves Indignant forth, nor let the dogs of Troy Patroclus rend, and gambol with his bones! He ceased, whom Oliades the swift Hearing incontinent, of all the Chiefs Ran foremost, after whom Idomeneus Approach'd, and dread as homicidal Mars Meriones. But never mind of man Could even in silent recollection name The whole vast multitude who, following these Renew'd the battle on the part of Greece. The Trojans first, with Hector at their head, Wedged in close phalanx, rush'd to the assault As when within some rapid river's mouth The billows and stream clash, on either shore[3] Loud sounds the roar[3] of waves ejected wide, Such seem'd the clamors of the Trojan host. But the Achaians, one in heart, around Patroclus stood, bulwark'd with shields of brass And over all their glittering helmets Jove Darkness diffused, for he had loved Patroclus While yet he lived friend of acides, And now, abhorring that the dogs of Troy Should eat him, urged the Greeks to his defence, The host of Troy first shook the Grecian host; The body left, they fled; yet of them all, The Trojan powers, determined as they were, Slew none, but dragg'd the body. Neither stood The Greeks long time aloof, soon as repulsed Again led on by Ajax, who in form And in exploits all others far excell'd. Peerless acides alone except. Right through the foremost combatants he rush'd, In force resembling most some savage boar That in the mountains bursting through the brakes, The swains disperses and their hounds with ease; Like him, illustrious Ajax, mighty son Of Telamon, at his assault dispersed With ease the close imbattled ranks who fought Around Patroclus' body, strong in hope To achieve it, and to make the glory theirs. Hippothos, a youth of high renown, Son of Pelasgian Lethus, by a noose Around his ancle cast dragg'd through the fight Patroclus, so to gratify the host Of Ilium and their Chief; but evil him Reached suddenly, by none of all his friends (Though numerous wish'd to save him) turn'd aside. For swift advancing on him through the crowd The son of Telamon pierced, spear in hand, His helmet brazen-cheek'd; the crested casque, So smitten, open'd wide, for huge the hand And ponderous was the spear that gave the blow And all around its neck, mingled with blood Gush'd forth the brain. There, lifeless, down he sank, Let fall the hero's foot, and fell himself Prone on the dead, never to see again? Deep-soil'd Larissa, never to require Their kind solicitudes who gave him birth, In bloom of life by dauntless Ajax slain. Then Hector hurl'd at Ajax his bright spear, But he, forewarn'd of its approach, escaped Narrowly, and it pierced Schedius instead, Brave son of Iphitus; he, noblest Chief Of the Phocensians, over many reign'd, Dwelling in Panopeus the far-renown'd. Entering beneath the clavicle[4] the point Right through his shoulder's summit pass'd behind, And on his loud-resounding arms he fell. But Ajax at his waist wounded the son Of Phoenops, valiant Phorcys, while he stood Guarding Hippothus; through his hollow mail Enforced the weapon drank his inmost life, And in his palm, supine, he clench'd the dust. Then, Hector with the foremost Chiefs of Troy Fell back; the Argives sent a shout to heaven, And dragging Phorcys and Hippothus thence Stripp'd both. In that bright moment Ilium's host Fear-quell'd before Achaia's warlike sons Had Troy re-enter'd, and the host of Greece By matchless might and fortitude their own Had snatch'd a victory from the grasp of fate, But that, himself, the King of radiant shafts neas roused; Epytis' son he seem'd Periphas, ancient in the service grown Of old Anchises whom he dearly loved; His form assumed, Apollo thus began. How could ye save, neas, were the Gods Your enemies, the towers of lofty Troy? As I have others seen, warriors who would, Men fill'd with might and valor, firm themselves And Chiefs of multitudes disdaining fear. But Jove to us the victory far more Than to the Grecians wills; therefore the fault Is yours, who tremble and refuse the fight. He ended, whom neas marking, knew At once the glorious Archer of the skies, And thus to distant Hector call'd aloud. Oh, Hector, and ye other Chiefs of Troy And of her brave confederates! Shame it were Should we re-enter Ilium, driven to flight By dastard fear before the host of Greece. A God assured me even now, that Jove, Supreme in battle, gives his aid to Troy. Rush, therefore, on the Dana direct, Nor let them, safe at least and unannoy'd, Bear hence Patroclus' body to the fleet. He spake, and starting far into the van Stood foremost forth; they, wheeling, faced the Greeks. Then, spear in hand, neas smote the friend Of Lycomedes, brave Leocritus, Son of Arisbas. Lycomedes saw Compassionate his death, and drawing nigh First stood, then hurling his resplendent lance, Right through the liver Apisaon pierced Offspring of Hippasus, his chest beneath, And, lifeless, instant, on the field he fell. He from Ponia the deep soil'd to Troy Came forth, Asteropus sole except, Bravest of all Ponia's band in arms. Asteropus saw, and to the van Sprang forth for furious combat well prepared, But room for fight found none, so thick a fence Of shields and ported spears fronted secure The phalanx guarding Menoetiades. For Ajax ranging all the ranks, aloud Admonish'd them that no man yielding ground Should leave Patroclus, or advance before The rest, but all alike fight and stand fast. Such order gave huge Ajax; purple gore Drench'd all the ground; in slaughter'd heaps they fell Trojans and Trojan aids of dauntless hearts And Grecians; for not even they the fight Waged bloodless, though with far less cost of blood, Each mindful to avert his fellow's fate. Thus burn'd the battle; neither hadst thou deem'd The sun himself in heaven unquench'd, or moon, Beneath a cope so dense of darkness strove Unceasing all the most renown'd in arms For Menoetiades. Meantime the war, Wherever else, the bright-arm'd Grecians waged And Trojans under skies serene. The sun On them his radiance darted; not a cloud, From mountain or from vale rising, allay'd His fervor; there at distance due they fought And paused by turns, and shunn'd the cruel dart. But in the middle field not war alone They suffer'd, but night also; ruthless raged The iron storm, and all the mightiest bled. Two glorious Chiefs, the while, Antilochus And Thrasymedes, had no tidings heard Of brave Patroclus slain, but deem'd him still Living, and troubling still the host of Troy; For watchful[5] only to prevent the flight Or slaughter of their fellow-warriors, they Maintain'd a distant station, so enjoin'd By Nestor when he sent them to the field. But fiery conflict arduous employ'd The rest all day continual; knees and legs, Feet, hands, and eyes of those who fought to guard The valiant friend of swift acides Sweat gather'd foul and dust. As when a man A huge ox-hide drunken with slippery lard Gives to be stretch'd, his servants all around Disposed, just intervals between, the task Ply strenuous, and while many straining hard Extend it equal on all sides, it sweats The moisture out, and drinks the unction in,[6] So they, in narrow space struggling, the dead Dragg'd every way, warm hope conceiving, these To drag him thence to Troy, those, to the ships. Wild tumult raged around him; neither Mars, Gatherer of hosts to battle, nor herself Pallas, however angry, had beheld That conflict with disdain, Jove to such length Protracted on that day the bloody toil Of steeds and men for Menoetiades. Nor knew divine Achilles or had aught Heard of Patroclus slain, for from the ships Remote they fought, beneath the walls of Troy. He, therefore, fear'd not for his death, but hope Indulged much rather, that, the battle push'd To Ilium's gates, he should return alive. For that his friend, unaided by himself Or ever aided, should prevail to lay Troy waste, he nought supposed; by Thetis warn'd In secret conference oft, he better knew Jove's purpose; yet not even she had borne Those dreadful tidings to his ear, the loss Immeasurable of his dearest friend. They all around the dead fought spear in hand With mutual slaughter ceaseless, and amid Achaia's host thus spake a Chief mail-arm'd. Shame were it, Grecians! should we seek by flight Our galleys now; yawn earth our feet beneath And here ingulf us rather! Better far Than to permit the steed-famed host of Troy To drag Patroclus hence into the town, And make the glory of this conflict theirs. Thus also of the dauntless Trojans spake A certain warrior. Oh, my friends! although The Fates ordain us, one and all, to die Around this body, stand! quit not the field. So spake the warrior prompting into act The courage of his friends, and such they strove On both sides; high into the vault of heaven The iron din pass'd through the desart air. Meantime the horses of acides From fight withdrawn, soon as they understood Their charioteer fallen in the dust beneath The arm of homicidal Hector, wept. Them oft with hasty lash Diores' son Automedon impatient smote, full oft He stroked them gently, and as oft he chode;[7] Yet neither to the fleet ranged on the shore Of spacious Hellespont would they return, Nor with the Grecians seek the fight, but stood As a sepulchral pillar stands, unmoved Between their traces;[8] to the earth they hung Their heads, with plenteous tears their driver mourn'd, And mingled their dishevell'd manes with dust. Jove saw their grief with pity, and his brows Shaking, within himself thus, pensive, said. Ah hapless pair! Wherefore by gift divine Were ye to Peleus given, a mortal king, Yourselves immortal and from age exempt? Was it that ye might share in human woes? For, of all things that breathe or creep the earth, No creature lives so mere a wretch as man. Yet shall not Priameian Hector ride Triumphant, drawn by you. Myself forbid. Suffice it that he boasts vain-gloriously Those arms his own. Your spirit and your limbs I will invigorate, that ye may bear Safe hence Automedon into the fleet. For I ordain the Trojans still to spread Carnage around victorious, till they reach The gallant barks, and till the sun at length Descending, sacred darkness cover all. He said, and with new might the steeds inspired. They, shaking from their hair profuse the dust, Between the van of either army whirl'd The rapid chariot. Fighting as he pass'd, Though fill'd with sorrow for his slaughter'd friend, Automedon high-mounted swept the field Impetuous as a vulture scattering geese; Now would he vanish, and now, turn'd again, Chase through a multitude his trembling foe; But whomsoe'er he follow'd, none he slew, Nor was the task possible to a Chief Sole in the sacred chariot, both to aim The spear aright and guide the fiery steeds. At length Alcimedon, his friend in arms, Son of Laerceus son of mon, him Observing, from behind the chariot hail'd The flying warrior, whom he thus bespake. What power, Automedon! hath ta'en away Thy better judgment, and thy breast inspired With this vain purpose to assail alone The Trojan van? Thy partner in the fight Is slain, and Hector on his shoulders bears, Elate, the armor of acides. Then, answer thus Automedon return'd, Son of Diores. Who of all our host Was ever skill'd, Alcimedon! as thou To rule the fire of these immortal steeds, Save only while he lived, peer of the Gods In that great art, Patroclus, now no more? Thou, therefore, the resplendent reins receive And scourge, while I, dismounting, wage the fight. He ceased; Alcimedon without delay The battle-chariot mounting, seized at once The lash and reins, and from his seat down leap'd Automedon. Them noble Hector mark'd, And to neas at his side began. Illustrious Chief of Trojans brazen-mail'd neas! I have noticed yonder steeds Of swift Achilles rushing into fight Conspicuous, but under sway of hands Unskilful; whence arises a fair hope That we might seize them, wert thou so inclined; For never would those two dare to oppose In battle an assault dreadful as ours. He ended, nor the valiant son refused Of old Anchises, but with targets firm Of season'd hide brass-plated thrown athwart Their shoulders, both advanced direct, with whom Of godlike form Aretus also went And Chromius. Ardent hope they all conceived To slay those Chiefs, and from the field to drive Achilles' lofty steeds. Vain hope! for them No bloodless strife awaited with the force Of brave Automedon; he, prayer to Jove First offering, felt his angry soul with might Heroic fill'd, and thus his faithful friend Alcimedon, incontinent, address'd. Alcimedon! hold not the steeds remote But breathing on my back; for I expect That never Priamean Hector's rage Shall limit know, or pause, till, slaying us, He shall himself the coursers ample-maned Mount of Achilles, and to flight compel The Argive host, or perish in the van. So saying, he call'd aloud on Menelaus With either Ajax. Oh, illustrious Chiefs Of Argos, Menelaus, and ye bold Ajaces![9] leaving all your best to cope With Ilium's powers and to protect the dead, From friends still living ward the bitter day. For hither borne, two Chiefs, bravest of all The Trojans, Hector and neas rush Right through the battle. The events of war Heaven orders; therefore even I will give My spear its flight, and Jove dispose the rest! He said, and brandishing his massy spear Dismiss'd it at Aretus; full he smote His ample shield, nor stay'd the pointed brass, But penetrating sheer the disk, his belt Pierced also, and stood planted in his waist. As when some vigorous youth with sharpen'd axe A pastured bullock smites behind the horns And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke Springs forth and falls, so sprang Aretus forth, Then fell supine, and in his bowels stood The keen-edged lance still quivering till he died. Then Hector, in return, his radiant spear Hurl'd at Automedon, who of its flight Forewarn'd his body bowing prone, the stroke Eluded, and the spear piercing the soil Behind him, shook to its superior end, Till, spent by slow degrees, its fury slept. And now, with hand to hilt, for closer war Both stood prepared, when through the multitude Advancing at their fellow-warrior's call, The Ajaces suddenly their combat fierce Prevented. Awed at once by their approach Hector retired, with whom neas went Also and godlike Chromius, leaving there Aretus with his vitals torn, whose arms, Fierce as the God of war Automedon Stripp'd off, and thus exulted o'er the slain. My soul some portion of her grief resigns Consoled, although by slaughter of a worse, For loss of valiant Menoetiades. So saying, within his chariot he disposed The gory spoils, then mounted it himself With hands and feet purpled, as from a bull His bloody prey, some lion newly-gorged. And now around Patroclus raged again Dread strife deplorable! for from the skies Descending at the Thunderer's command Whose purpose now was to assist the Greeks, Pallas enhanced the fury of the fight. As when from heaven, in view of mortals, Jove Exhibits bright his bow, a sign ordain'd Of war, or numbing frost which all the works Suspends of man and saddens all the flocks; So she, all mantled with a radiant cloud Entering Achaia's host, fired every breast. But meeting Menelaus first, brave son Of Atreus, in the form and with the voice Robust of Phoenix, him she thus bespake. Shame, Menelaus, shall to thee redound For ever, and reproach, should dogs devour The faithful friend of Peleus' noble son Under Troy's battlements; but stand, thyself, Undaunted, and encourage all the host. To whom the son of Atreus bold in arms. Ah, Phoenix, friend revered, ancient and sage! Would Pallas give me might and from the dint Shield me of dart and spear, with willing mind I would defend Patroclus, for his death Hath touch'd me deep. But Hector with the rage Burns of consuming fire, nor to his spear Gives pause, for him Jove leads to victory. He ceased, whom Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed Hearing, rejoiced that of the heavenly powers He had invoked her foremost to his aid. His shoulders with new might, and limbs she fill'd, And persevering boldness to his breast Imparted, such as prompts the fly, which oft From flesh of man repulsed, her purpose yet To bite holds fast, resolved on human blood. His stormy bosom with such courage fill'd By Pallas, to Patroclus he approach'd And hurl'd, incontinent, his glittering spear. There was a Trojan Chief, Podes by name, Son of Etion, valorous and rich; Of all Troy's citizens him Hector most Respected, in convivial pleasures sweet His chosen companion. As he sprang to flight, The hero of the golden locks his belt Struck with full force and sent the weapon through. Sounding he fell, and from the Trojan ranks Atrides dragg'd the body to his own. Then drew Apollo near to Hector's side, And in the form of Phoenops, Asius' son, Of all the foreign guests at Hector's board His favorite most, the hero thus address'd. What Chief of all the Grecians shall henceforth Fear Hector, who from Menelaus shrinks Once deem'd effeminate, but dragging now The body of thy valiant friend approved Whom he hath slain, Podes, Etion's son? He spake, and at his words grief like a cloud Involved the mind of Hector dark around; Right through the foremost combatants he rush'd All clad in dazzling brass. Then, lifting high His tassel'd gis radiant, Jove with storms Enveloped Ida; flash'd his lightnings, roar'd His thunders, and the mountain shook throughout. Troy's host he prosper'd, and the Greeks dispersed. First fled Peneleus, the Boeotian Chief, Whom facing firm the foe Polydamas Struck on his shoulder's summit with a lance Hurl'd nigh at hand, which slight inscribed the bone. [10]Letus also, son of the renown'd Alectryon, pierced by Hector in the wrist, Disabled left the fight; trembling he fled And peering narrowly around, nor hoped To lift a spear against the Trojans more. Hector, pursuing Letus, the point Encounter'd of the brave Idomeneus Full on his chest; but in his mail the lance Snapp'd, and the Trojans shouted to the skies. He, in his turn, cast at Deucalion's son Idomeneus, who in that moment gain'd[11] A chariot-seat; but him the erring spear Attain'd not, piercing Coeranus instead The friend and follower of Meriones From wealthy Lyctus, and his charioteer. For when he left, that day, the gallant barks Idomeneus had sought the field on foot, And triumph proud, full sure, to Ilium's host Had yielded now, but that with rapid haste Coeranus drove to his relief, from him The fate averting which himself incurr'd Victim of Hector's homicidal arm. Him Hector smiting between ear and jaw Push'd from their sockets with the lance's point His firm-set teeth, and sever'd sheer his tongue. Dismounted down he fell, and from his hand Let slide the flowing reins, which, to the earth Stooping, Meriones in haste resumed, And briefly thus Idomeneus address'd. Now drive, and cease not, to the fleet of Greece! Thyself see'st victory no longer ours. He said; Idomeneus whom, now, dismay Seized also, with his lash plying severe The coursers ample-maned, flew to the fleet. Nor Ajax, dauntless hero, not perceived, Nor Menelaus, by the sway of Jove The victory inclining fast to Troy, And thus the Telamonian Chief began. Ah! who can be so blind as not to see The eternal Father, now, with his own hand Awarding glory to the Trojan host, Whose every spear flies, instant, to the mark Sent forth by brave or base? Jove guides them all, While, ineffectual, ours fall to the ground. But haste, devise we of ourselves the means How likeliest we may bear Patroclus hence, And gladden, safe returning, all our friends, Who, hither looking anxious, hope have none That we shall longer check the unconquer'd force Of hero-slaughtering Hector, but expect [12]To see him soon amid the fleet of Greece. Oh for some Grecian now to carry swift The tidings to Achilles' ear, untaught, As I conjecture, yet the doleful news Of his Patroclus slain! but no such Greek May I discern, such universal gloom Both men and steeds envelops all around. Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies; Give day; and (since thy sovereign will is such) Destruction with it--but oh give us day![13] He spake, whose tears Jove saw with pity moved, And chased the untimely shades; bright beam'd the sun And the whole battle was display'd. Then spake The hero thus to Atreus' mighty son. Now noble Menelaus! looking forth, See if Antilochus be yet alive, Brave son of Nestor, whom exhort to fly With tidings to Achilles, of the friend Whom most he loved, of his Patroclus slain. He ceased, nor Menelaus, dauntless Chief, That task refused, but went; yet neither swift Nor willing. As a lion leaves the stalls Wearied himself with harassing the guard, Who, interdicting him his purposed prey, Watch all the night; he famish'd, yet again Comes furious on, but speeds not, kept aloof By spears from daring hands dismissed, but more By flash of torches which, though fierce, he dreads, Till at the dawn, sullen he stalks away; So from Patroclus Menelaus went Heroic Chief! reluctant; for he fear'd Lest the Achaians should resign the dead, Through consternation, to the host of Troy. Departing, therefore, he admonish'd oft Meriones and the Ajaces, thus. Ye two brave leaders of the Argive host, And thou, Meriones! now recollect The gentle manners of Patroclus fallen Hapless in battle, who by carriage mild Well understood, while yet he lived, to engage All hearts, through prisoner now of death and fate. So saying, the hero amber-hair'd his steps Turn'd thence, the field exploring with an eye Sharp as the eagle's, of all fowls beneath The azure heavens for keenest sight renown'd, Whom, though he soar sublime, the leveret By broadest leaves conceal'd 'scapes not, but swift Descending, even her he makes his prey; So, noble Menelaus! were thine eyes Turn'd into every quarter of the host In search of Nestor's son, if still he lived. Him, soon, encouraging his band to fight, He noticed on the left of all the field, And sudden standing at his side, began. Antilochus! oh hear me, noble friend! And thou shalt learn tidings of such a deed As best had never been. Thou know'st, I judge, And hast already seen, how Jove exalts To victory the Trojan host, and rolls Distress on ours; but ah! Patroclus lies, Our chief Achaian, slain, whose loss the Greeks Fills with regret. Haste, therefore, to the fleet, Inform Achilles; bid him haste to save, If save he can, the body of his friend; He can no more, for Hector hath his arms. He ceased. Antilochus with horror heard Those tidings; mute long time he stood, his eyes Swam tearful, and his voice, sonorous erst, Found utterance none. Yet even so distress'd, He not the more neglected the command Of Menelaus. Setting forth to run, He gave his armor to his noble friend Laodocus, who thither turn'd his steeds, And weeping as he went, on rapid feet Sped to Achilles with that tale of wo. Nor could the noble Menelaus stay To give the weary Pylian band, bereft Of their beloved Antilochus, his aid, But leaving them to Thrasymedes' care, He flew to Menoetiades again, And the Ajaces, thus, instant bespake. He goes. I have dispatch'd him to the fleet To seek Achilles; but his coming naught Expect I now, although with rage he burn Against illustrious Hector; for what fight Can he, unarm'd, against the Trojans wage? Deliberating, therefore, frame we means How best to save Patroclus, and to 'scape Ourselves unslain from this disastrous field. Whom answer'd the vast son of Telamon. Most noble Menelaus! good is all Which thou hast spoken. Lift ye from the earth Thou and Meriones, at once, and bear The dead Patroclus from the bloody field. To cope meantime with Hector and his host Shall be our task, who, one in name, nor less In spirit one, already have the brunt Of much sharp conflict, side by side, sustain'd. He ended; they enfolding in their arms The dead, upbore him high above the ground With force united; after whom the host Of Troy, seeing the body borne away, Shouted, and with impetuous onset all Follow'd them. As the hounds, urged from behind By youthful hunters, on the wounded boar Make fierce assault; awhile at utmost speed They stretch toward him hungering, for the prey, But oft as, turning sudden, the stout brawn Faces them, scatter'd on all sides escape; The Trojans so, thick thronging in the rear, Ceaseless with falchions and spears double-edged Annoy'd them sore, but oft as in retreat The dauntless heroes, the Ajaces turn'd To face them, deadly wan grew every cheek, And not a Trojan dared with onset rude Molest them more in conflict for the dead. Thus they, laborious, forth from battle bore Patroclus to the fleet, tempestuous war Their steps attending, rapid as the flames Which, kindled suddenly, some city waste; Consumed amid the blaze house after house Sinks, and the wind, meantime, roars through the fire; So them a deafening tumult as they went Pursued, of horses and of men spear-arm'd. And as two mules with strength for toil endued, Draw through rough ways down from the distant hills Huge timber, beam or mast; sweating they go, And overlabor'd to faint weariness; So they the body bore, while, turning oft, The Ajaces check'd the Trojans. As a mound Planted with trees and stretch'd athwart the mead Repels an overflow; the torrents loud Baffling, it sends them far away to float The level land, nor can they with the force Of all their waters burst a passage through; So the Ajaces, constant, in the rear Repress'd the Trojans; but the Trojans them Attended still, of whom neas most Troubled them, and the glorious Chief of Troy. They as a cloud of starlings or of daws Fly screaming shrill, warn'd timely of the kite Or hawk, devourers of the smaller kinds, So they shrill-clamoring toward the fleet, Hasted before neas and the might Of Hector, nor the battle heeded more. Much radiant armor round about the foss Fell of the flying Grecians, or within Lay scatter'd, and no pause of war they found.