Public Domain Poetry And Stories - The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book XV. by William Cowper
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The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book XV.

    By William Cowper



    Argument Of The Fifteenth Book.


    Jove, awaking and seeing the Trojans routed, threatens Juno. He sends Iris to admonish Neptune to relinquish the battle, and Apollo to restore health to Hector. Apollo armed with the Ægis, puts to flight the Grecians; they are pursued home to their fleet, and Telamonian Ajax slays twelve Trojans bringing fire to burn it.



    But when the flying Trojans had o'erpass'd
    Both stakes and trench, and numerous slaughtered lay
    By Grecian hands, the remnant halted all
    Beside their chariots, pale, discomfited.
    Then was it that on Ida's summit Jove
    At Juno's side awoke; starting, he stood
    At once erect; Trojans and Greeks he saw,
    These broken, those pursuing and led on
    By Neptune; he beheld also remote
    Encircled by his friends, and on the plain
    Extended, Hector; there he panting lay,
    Senseless, ejecting blood, bruised by a blow
    From not the feeblest of the sons of Greece.
    Touch'd with compassion at that sight, the Sire
    Of Gods and men, frowning terrific, fix'd
    His eyes on Juno, and her thus bespake.
    No place for doubt remains. Oh, versed in wiles,
    Juno! thy mischief-teeming mind perverse
    Hath plotted this; thou hast contrived the hurt

    Of Hector, and hast driven his host to flight.
    I know not but thyself mayst chance to reap
    The first-fruits of thy cunning, scourged[1] by me.
    Hast thou forgotten how I once aloft
    Suspended thee, with anvils at thy feet,
    And both thy wrists bound with a golden cord
    Indissoluble? In the clouds of heaven
    I hung thee, while from the Olympian heights
    The Gods look'd mournful on, but of them all
    None could deliver thee, for whom I seized,
    Hurl'd through the gates of heaven on earth he fell,
    Half-breathless. Neither so did I resign
    My hot resentment of the hero's wrongs
    Immortal Hercules, whom thou by storms
    Call'd from the North, with mischievous intent
    Hadst driven far distant o'er the barren Deep
    To populous Cos. Thence I deliver'd him,
    And after numerous woes severe, he reach'd
    The shores of fruitful Argos, saved by me.
    I thus remind thee now, that thou mayst cease
    Henceforth from artifice, and mayst be taught
    How little all the dalliance and the love
    Which, stealing down from heaven, thou hast by fraud
    Obtain'd from me, shall profit thee at last.
    He ended, whom imperial Juno heard
    Shuddering, and in wing'd accents thus replied.
    Be witness Earth, the boundless Heaven above,
    And Styx beneath, whose stream the blessed Gods
    Even tremble to adjure;[2] be witness too
    Thy sacred life, and our connubial bed,
    Which by a false oath I will never wrong,
    That by no art induced or plot of mine
    Neptune, the Shaker of the shores, inflicts
    These harms on Hector and the Trojan host
    Aiding the Grecians, but impell'd alone
    By his own heart with pity moved at sight
    Of the Achaians at the ships subdued.
    But even him, oh Sovereign of the storms!
    I am prepared to admonish that he quit
    The battle, and retire where thou command'st.
    So she; then smiled the Sire of Gods and men,
    And in wing'd accents answer thus return'd.[3]
    Juno! wouldst thou on thy celestial throne
    Assist my counsels, howso'er in heart
    He differ now, Neptune should soon his will
    Submissive bend to thy desires and mine.
    But if sincerity be in thy words
    And truth, repairing to the blest abodes
    Send Iris hither, with the archer God
    Apollo; that she, visiting the host
    Of Greece, may bid the Sovereign of the Deep
    Renounce the fight, and seek his proper home.
    Apollo's part shall be to rouse again
    Hector to battle, to inspire his soul
    Afresh with courage, and all memory thence
    To banish of the pangs which now he feels.
    Apollo also shall again repulse
    Achaia's host, which with base panic fill'd,
    Shall even to Achilles' ships be driven.
    Achilles shall his valiant friend exhort
    Patroclus forth; him under Ilium's walls
    Shall glorious Hector slay; but many a youth
    Shall perish by Patroclus first, with whom,
    My noble son Sarpedon. Peleus' son,
    Resentful of Patroclus' death, shall slay
    Hector, and I will urge ceaseless, myself,
    Thenceforth the routed Trojans back again,
    Till by Minerva's aid the Greeks shall take
    Ilium's proud city; till that day arrive
    My wrath shall burn, nor will I one permit
    Of all the Immortals to assist the Greeks,
    But will perform Achilles' whole desire.
    Such was my promise to him at the first,
    Ratified by a nod that self-same day
    When Thetis clasp'd my knees, begging revenge
    And glory for her city-spoiler son.
    He ended; nor his spouse white-arm'd refused
    Obedience, but from the Idæan heights
    Departing, to the Olympian summit soar'd.
    Swift as the traveller's thought,[4] who, many a land
    Traversed, deliberates on his future course
    Uncertain, and his mind sends every way,
    So swift updarted Juno to the skies.
    Arrived on the Olympian heights, she found
    The Gods assembled; they, at once, their seats
    At her approach forsaking, with full cups
    Her coming hail'd; heedless of all beside,
    She took the cup from blooming Themis' hand,
    For she first flew to welcome her, and thus
    In accents wing'd of her return inquired.
    Say, Juno, why this sudden re-ascent?
    Thou seem'st dismay'd; hath Saturn's son, thy spouse,
    Driven thee affrighted to the skies again?
    To whom the white-arm'd Goddess thus replied.
    Themis divine, ask not. Full well thou know'st
    How harshly temper'd is the mind of Jove,
    And how untractable. Resume thy seat;
    The banquet calls thee; at our board preside,
    Thou shalt be told, and all in heaven shall hear
    What ills he threatens; such as shall not leave
    All minds at ease, I judge, here or on earth,
    However tranquil some and joyous now.
    So spake the awful spouse of Jove, and sat.
    Then, all alike, the Gods displeasure felt
    Throughout the courts of Jove, but she, her lips
    Gracing with smiles from which her sable brows
    Dissented,[5] thus indignant them address'd.
    Alas! how vain against the Thunderer's will
    Our anger, and the hope to supersede
    His purpose, by persuasion or by force!
    He solitary sits, all unconcern'd
    At our resentment, and himself proclaims
    Mightiest and most to be revered in heaven.
    Be patient, therefore, and let each endure
    Such ills as Jove may send him. Mars, I ween,
    Already hath his share; the warrior God
    Hath lost Ascalaphus, of all mankind
    His most beloved, and whom he calls his own.
    She spake, and with expanded palms his thighs
    Smiling, thus, sorrowful, the God exclaim'd.
    Inhabitants of the Olympian heights!
    Oh bear with me, if to avenge my son
    I seek Achaia's fleet, although my doom
    Be thunder-bolts from Jove, and with the dead
    Outstretch'd to lie in carnage and in dust.
    He spake, and bidding Horror and Dismay
    Lead to the yoke his rapid steeds, put on
    His all-refulgent armor. Then had wrath
    More dreadful, some strange vengeance on the Gods
    From Jove befallen, had not Minerva, touch'd
    With timely fears for all, upstarting sprung
    From where she sat, right through the vestibule.
    She snatch'd the helmet from his brows, the shield
    From his broad shoulder, and the brazen spear
    Forced from his grasp into its place restored.
    Then reprimanding Mars, she thus began.
    Frantic, delirious! thou art lost for ever!
    Is it in vain that thou hast ears to hear,
    And hast thou neither shame nor reason left?
    How? hear'st thou not the Goddess? the report
    Of white-arm'd Juno from Olympian Jove
    Return'd this moment? or perfer'st thou rather,
    Plagued with a thousand woes, and under force
    Of sad necessity to seek again
    Olympus, and at thy return to prove
    Author of countless miseries to us all?
    For He at once Grecians and Trojans both
    Abandoning, will hither haste prepared
    To tempest[6] us in heaven, whom he will seize,
    The guilty and the guiltless, all alike.
    I bid thee, therefore, patient bear the death
    Of thy Ascalaphus; braver than he
    And abler have, ere now, in battle fallen,
    And shall hereafter; arduous were the task
    To rescue from the stroke of fate the race
    Of mortal men, with all their progeny.
    So saying, Minerva on his throne replaced
    The fiery Mars. Then, summoning abroad
    Apollo from within the hall of Jove,
    With Iris, swift ambassadress of heaven,
    Them in wing'd accents Juno thus bespake.
    Jove bids you hence with undelaying speed
    To Ida; in his presence once arrived,
    See that ye execute his whole command.
    So saying, the awful Goddess to her throne
    Return'd and sat. They, cleaving swift the air,
    Alighted soon on Ida fountain-fed,
    Parent of savage kinds. High on the point
    Seated of Gargarus, and wrapt around
    With fragrant clouds, they found Saturnian Jove
    The Thunderer, and in his presence stood.
    He, nought displeased that they his high command
    Had with such readiness obey'd, his speech
    To Iris, first, in accents wing'd address'd
    Swift Iris, haste--to royal Neptune bear
    My charge entire; falsify not the word.
    Bid him, relinquishing the fight, withdraw
    Either to heaven, or to the boundless Deep.
    But should he disobedient prove, and scorn
    My message, let him, next, consider well
    How he will bear, powerful as he is,
    My coming. Me I boast superior far
    In force, and elder-born; yet deems he slight
    The danger of comparison with me,
    Who am the terror of all heaven beside.
    He spake, nor storm-wing'd Iris disobey'd,
    But down from the Idæan summit stoop'd
    To sacred Ilium. As when snow or hail
    Flies drifted by the cloud-dispelling North,
    So swiftly, wing'd with readiness of will,
    She shot the gulf between, and standing soon
    At glorious Neptune's side, him thus address'd.
    To thee, O Neptune azure-hair'd! I come
    With tidings charged from Ægis-bearing Jove.
    He bids thee cease from battle, and retire
    Either to heaven, or to the boundless Deep.
    But shouldst thou, disobedient, set at nought
    His words, he threatens that himself will haste
    To fight against thee; but he bids thee shun
    That strife with one superior far to thee,
    And elder-born; yet deem'st thou slight, he saith,
    The danger of comparison with Him,
    Although the terror of all heaven beside.
    Her then the mighty Shaker of the shores
    Answer'd indignant. Great as is his power,
    Yet he hath spoken proudly, threatening me
    With force, high-born and glorious as himself.
    We are three brothers; Saturn is our sire,
    And Rhea brought us forth; first, Jove she bore;
    Me next; then, Pluto, Sovereign of the shades.
    By distribution tripart we received
    Each his peculiar honors; me the lots
    Made Ruler of the hoary floods, and there
    I dwell for ever. Pluto, for his part,
    The regions took of darkness; and the heavens,
    The clouds, and boundless æther, fell to Jove.
    The Earth and the Olympian heights alike
    Are common to the three. My life and being
    I hold not, therefore, at his will, whose best
    And safest course, with all his boasted power,
    Were to possess in peace his proper third.
    Let him not seek to terrify with force
    Me like a dastard; let him rather chide
    His own-begotten; with big-sounding words
    His sons and daughters govern, who perforce
    Obey his voice, and shrink at his commands.
    To whom thus Iris tempest-wing'd replied,
    Coerulean-tress'd Sovereign of the Deep!
    Shall I report to Jove, harsh as it is,
    Thy speech, or wilt thou soften it? The wise
    Are flexible, and on the elder-born
    Erynnis, with her vengeful sisters, waits.[7]
    Her answer'd then the Shaker of the shores.
    Prudent is thy advice, Iris divine!
    Discretion in a messenger is good
    At all times. But the cause that fires me thus,
    And with resentment my whole heart and mind
    Possesses, is the license that he claims
    To vex with provocation rude of speech
    Me his compeer, and by decree of Fate
    Illustrious as himself; yet, though incensed,
    And with just cause, I will not now persist.
    But hear--for it is treasured in my heart
    The threat that my lips utter. If he still
    Resolve to spare proud Ilium in despite
    Of me, of Pallas, Goddess of the spoils,
    Of Juno, Mercury, and the King of fire,
    And will not overturn her lofty towers,
    Nor grant immortal glory to the Greeks,
    Then tell him thus--hostility shall burn,
    And wrath between us never to be quench'd.
    So saying, the Shaker of the shores forsook
    The Grecian host, and plunged into the deep,
    Miss'd by Achaia's heroes. Then, the cloud-Assembler
    God thus to Apollo spake.
    Hence, my Apollo! to the Trojan Chief
    Hector; for earth-encircler Neptune, awed
    By fear of my displeasure imminent,
    Hath sought the sacred Deep. Else, all the Gods
    Who compass Saturn in the nether realms,
    Had even there our contest heard, I ween,
    And heard it loudly. But that he retreats
    Although at first incensed, shunning my wrath,
    Is salutary both for him and me,
    Whose difference else had not been healed with ease.
    Take thou my shaggy Ægis, and with force
    Smiting it, terrify the Chiefs of Greece.
    As for illustrious Hector, him I give
    To thy peculiar care; fail not to rouse
    His fiercest courage, till he push the Greeks
    To Hellespont, and to their ships again;
    Thenceforth to yield to their afflicted host
    Some pause from toil, shall be my own concern.
    He ended, nor Apollo disobey'd
    His father's voice; from the Idæan heights,
    Swift as the swiftest of the fowls of air,
    The dove-destroyer falcon, down he flew.
    The noble Hector, valiant Priam's son
    He found, not now extended on the plain,
    But seated; newly, as from death, awaked,
    And conscious of his friends; freely he breathed
    Nor sweated more, by Jove himself revived.
    Apollo stood beside him, and began.
    Say, Hector, Priam's son! why sittest here
    Feeble and spiritless, and from thy host
    Apart? what new disaster hath befall'n?
    To whom with difficulty thus replied
    The warlike Chief.--But tell me who art Thou,
    Divine inquirer! best of powers above!
    Know'st not that dauntless Ajax me his friends
    Slaughtering at yonder ships, hath with a stone
    Surceased from fight, smiting me on the breast?
    I thought to have beheld, this day, the dead
    In Ades, every breath so seem'd my last.
    Then answer thus the Archer-God return'd.
    Courage this moment! such a helper Jove
    From Ida sends thee at thy side to war
    Continual, Phoebus of the golden sword,
    Whose guardian aid both thee and lofty Troy
    Hath succor'd many a time. Therefore arise!
    Instant bid drive thy numerous charioteers
    Their rapid steeds full on the Grecian fleet;
    I, marching at their head, will smooth, myself,
    The way before them, and will turn again
    To flight the heroes of the host of Greece.
    He said and with new strength the Chief inspired.
    As some stall'd horse high pamper'd, snapping short
    His cord, beats under foot the sounding soil,
    Accustom'd in smooth-sliding streams to lave
    Exulting; high he bears his head, his mane
    Wantons around his shoulders; pleased, he eyes
    His glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees
    Soon finds the haunts where all his fellows graze;
    So bounded Hector, and his agile joints
    Plied lightly, quicken'd by the voice divine,
    And gather'd fast his charioteers to battle.
    But as when hounds and hunters through the woods
    Rush in pursuit of stag or of wild goat,
    He, in some cave with tangled boughs o'erhung,
    Lies safe conceal'd, no destined prey of theirs,
    Till by their clamors roused, a lion grim
    Starts forth to meet them; then, the boldest fly;
    Such hot pursuit the Danaï, with swords
    And spears of double edge long time maintain'd.
    But seeing Hector in his ranks again
    Occupied, felt at once their courage fall'n.
    Then, Thoas them, Andræmon's son, address'd,
    Foremost of the Ætolians, at the spear
    Skilful, in stationary combat bold,
    And when the sons of Greece held in dispute
    The prize of eloquence, excell'd by few.
    Prudent advising them, he thus began.
    Ye Gods! what prodigy do I behold?
    Hath Hector, 'scaping death, risen again?
    For him, with confident persuasion all
    Believed by Telamonian Ajax slain.
    But some Divinity hath interposed
    To rescue and save Hector, who the joints
    Hath stiffen'd of full many a valiant Greek,
    As surely now he shall; for, not without
    The Thunderer's aid, he flames in front again.
    But take ye all my counsel. Send we back
    The multitude into the fleet, and first
    Let us, who boast ourselves bravest in fight,
    Stand, that encountering him with lifted spears,
    We may attempt to give his rage a check.
    To thrust himself into a band like ours
    Will, doubtless, even in Hector move a fear.
    He ceased, with whose advice all, glad, complied.
    Then Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete,
    Teucer, Meriones, and Meges fierce
    As Mars in battle, summoning aloud
    The noblest Greeks, in opposition firm
    To Hector and his host their bands prepared,
    While others all into the fleet retired.
    Troy's crowded host[8] struck first. With awful strides
    Came Hector foremost; him Apollo led,
    His shoulders wrapt in clouds, and, on his arm,
    The Ægis shagg'd terrific all around,
    Tempestuous, dazzling-bright; it was a gift
    To Jove from Vulcan, and design'd to appall,
    And drive to flight the armies of the earth.
    Arm'd with that shield Apollo led them on.
    Firm stood the embodied Greeks; from either host
    Shrill cries arose; the arrows from the nerve
    Leap'd, and, by vigorous arms dismiss'd, the spears
    Flew frequent; in the flesh some stood infixt
    Of warlike youths, but many, ere they reach'd
    The mark they coveted, unsated fell
    Between the hosts, and rested in the soil.
    Long as the God unagitated held
    The dreadful disk, so long the vollied darts
    Made mutual slaughter, and the people fell;
    But when he look'd the Grecian charioteers
    Full in the face and shook it, raising high
    Himself the shout of battle, then he quell'd
    Their spirits, then he struck from every mind
    At once all memory of their might in arms.
    As when two lions in the still, dark night
    A herd of beeves scatter or numerous flock
    Suddenly, in the absence of the guard,
    So fled the heartless Greeks, for Phoebus sent
    Terrors among them, but renown conferr'd
    And triumph proud on Hector and his host.
    Then, in that foul disorder of the field,
    Man singled man. Arcesilaüs died
    By Hector's arm, and Stichius; one, a Chief[9]
    Of the Boeotians brazen-mail'd, and one,
    Menestheus' faithful follower to the fight.
    Æneas Medon and Iäsus slew.
    Medon was spurious offspring of divine
    Oïleus Ajax' father, and abode
    In Phylace; for he had slain a Chief
    Brother of Eriopis the espoused
    Of brave Oïleus; but Iäsus led
    A phalanx of Athenians, and the son
    Of Sphelus, son of Bucolus was deem'd.
    Pierced by Polydamas Mecisteus fell,
    Polites, in the van of battle, slew
    Echion, and Agenor Clonius;
    But Paris, while Deïochus to flight
    Turn'd with the routed van, pierced him beneath
    His shoulder-blade, and urged the weapon through.
    While them the Trojans spoil'd, meantime the Greeks,
    Entangled in the piles of the deep foss,
    Fled every way, and through necessity
    Repass'd the wall. Then Hector with a voice
    Of loud command bade every Trojan cease
    From spoil, and rush impetuous on the fleet.
    [10]And whom I find far lingering from the ships
    Wherever, there he dies; no funeral fires
    Brother on him, or sister, shall bestow,
    But dogs shall rend him in the sight of Troy.
    So saying, he lash'd the shoulders of his steeds,
    And through the ranks vociferating, call'd
    His Trojans on; they, clamorous as he,
    All lash'd their steeds, and menacing, advanced.
    Before them with his feet Apollo push'd
    The banks into the foss, bridging the gulf
    With pass commodious, both in length and breadth
    A lance's flight, for proof of vigor hurl'd.
    There, phalanx after phalanx, they their host
    Pour'd dense along, while Phoebus in the van
    Display'd the awful ægis, and the wall
    Levell'd with ease divine. As, on the shore
    Some wanton boy with sand builds plaything walls,
    Then, sportive spreads them with his feet abroad,
    So thou, shaft-arm'd Apollo! that huge work
    Laborious of the Greeks didst turn with ease
    To ruin, and themselves drovest all to flight.
    They, thus enforced into the fleet, again
    Stood fast, with mutual exhortation each
    His friend encouraging, and all the Gods
    With lifted hands soliciting aloud.
    But, more than all, Gerenian Nestor pray'd
    Fervent, Achaia's guardian, and with arms
    Outstretch'd toward the starry skies, exclaim'd.
    Jove, Father! if in corn-clad Argos, one,
    One Greek hath ever, burning at thy shrine
    Fat thighs of sheep or oxen, ask'd from thee
    A safe return, whom thou hast gracious heard,
    Olympian King! and promised what he sought,
    Now, in remembrance of it, give us help
    In this disastrous day, nor thus permit
    Their Trojan foes to tread the Grecians down!
    So Nestor pray'd, and Jove thunder'd aloud
    Responsive to the old Neleïan's prayer.
    But when that voice of Ægis-bearing Jove
    The Trojans heard, more furious on the Greeks
    They sprang, all mindful of the fight. As when
    A turgid billow of some spacious sea,
    While the wind blow that heaves its highest, borne
    Sheer o'er the vessel's side, rolls into her,
    With such loud roar the Trojans pass'd the wall;
    In rush'd the steeds, and at the ships they waged
    Fierce battle hand to hand, from chariots, these,
    With spears of double edge, those, from the decks
    Of many a sable bark, with naval poles
    Long, ponderous, shod with steel; for every ship
    Had such, for conflict maritime prepared.
    While yet the battle raged only without
    The wall, and from the ships apart, so long
    Patroclus quiet in the tent and calm
    Sat of Eurypylus, his generous friend
    Consoling with sweet converse, and his wound
    Sprinkling with drugs assuasive of his pains.
    But soon as through the broken rampart borne
    He saw the Trojans, and the clamor heard
    And tumult of the flying Greeks, a voice
    Of loud lament uttering, with open palms
    His thighs he smote, and, sorrowful, exclaim'd.
    Eurypylus! although thy need be great,
    No longer may I now sit at thy side,
    Such contest hath arisen; thy servant's voice
    Must soothe thee now, for I will to the tent
    Haste of Achilles, and exhort him forth;
    Who knows? if such the pleasure of the Gods,
    I may prevail; friends rarely plead in vain.
    So saying, he went. Meantime the Greeks endured
    The Trojan onset, firm, yet from the ships
    Repulsed them not, though fewer than themselves,
    Nor could the host of Troy, breaking the ranks
    Of Greece, mix either with the camp or fleet;
    But as the line divides the plank aright,
    Stretch'd by some naval architect, whose hand
    Minerva hath accomplish'd in his art,
    So stretch'd on them the cord of battle lay.
    Others at other ships the conflict waged,
    But Hector to the ship advanced direct
    Of glorious Ajax; for one ship they strove;
    Nor Hector, him dislodging thence, could fire
    The fleet, nor Ajax from the fleet repulse
    Hector, conducted thither by the Gods.
    Then, noble Ajax with a spear the breast
    Pierced of Caletor, son of Clytius, arm'd
    With fire to burn his bark; sounding he fell,
    And from his loosen'd grasp down dropp'd the brand.
    But Hector seeing his own kinsman fallen
    Beneath the sable bark, with mighty voice
    Call'd on the hosts of Lycia and of Troy.
    Trojans and Lycians, and close-fighting sons
    Of Dardanus, within this narrow pass
    Stand firm, retreat not, but redeem the son
    Of Clytius, lest the Grecians of his arms
    Despoil him slain in battle at the ships.
    So saying, at Ajax his bright spear he cast
    Him pierced he not, but Lycophron the son
    Of Mastor, a Cytherian, who had left
    Cytheras, fugitive for blood, and dwelt
    With Ajax. Him standing at Ajax' side,
    He pierced above his ear; down from the stern
    Supine he fell, and in the dust expired.
    Then, shuddering, Ajax to his brother spake.
    Alas, my Teucer! we have lost our friend;
    Mastorides is slain, whom we received
    An inmate from Cytheræ, and with love
    And reverence even filial, entertain'd;
    By Hector pierced, he dies. Where are thy shafts
    Death-wing'd, and bow, by gift from Phoebus thine?
    He said, whom Teucer hearing, instant ran
    With bow and well-stored quiver to his side,
    Whence soon his arrows sought the Trojan host.
    He struck Pisenor's son Clytus, the friend
    And charioteer of brave Polydamas,
    Offspring of Panthus, toiling with both hands
    To rule his fiery steeds; for more to please
    The Trojans and their Chief, where stormy most
    He saw the battle, thither he had driven.
    But sudden mischief, valiant as he was,
    Found him, and such as none could waft aside,
    For right into his neck the arrow plunged,
    And down he fell; his startled coursers shook
    Their trappings, and the empty chariot rang.
    That sound alarm'd Polydamas; he turn'd,
    And flying to their heads, consign'd them o'er
    To Protiaön's son, Astynoüs,
    Whom he enjoin'd to keep them in his view;
    Then, turning, mingled with the van again.
    But Teucer still another shaft produced
    Design'd for valiant Hector, whose exploits
    (Had that shaft reach'd him) at the ships of Greece
    Had ceased for ever. But the eye of Jove,
    Guardian of Hector's life, slept not; he took
    From Telamonian Teucer that renown,
    And while he stood straining the twisted nerve
    Against the Trojan, snapp'd it. Devious flew
    The steel-charged[11] arrow, and he dropp'd his bow.
    Then shuddering, to his brother thus he spake.
    Ah! it is evident. Some Power divine
    Makes fruitless all our efforts, who hath struck
    My bow out of my hand, and snapt the cord
    With which I strung it new at dawn of day,
    That it might bear the bound of many a shaft.
    To whom the towering son of Telamon.
    Leave then thy bow, and let thine arrows rest,
    Which, envious of the Greeks, some God confounds,
    That thou may'st fight with spear and buckler arm'd,
    And animate the rest. Such be our deeds
    That, should they conquer us, our foes may find
    Our ships, at least a prize not lightly won.
    So Ajax spake; then Teucer, in his tent
    The bow replacing, slung his fourfold shield,
    Settled on his illustrious brows his casque
    With hair high-crested, waving, as he moved,
    Terrible from above, took forth a spear
    Tough-grain'd, acuminated sharp with brass,
    And stood, incontinent, at Ajax' side.
    Hector perceived the change, and of the cause
    Conscious, with echoing voice call'd to his host.
    Trojans and Lycians and close-fighting sons
    Of Dardanus, oh now, my friends, be men;
    Now, wheresoever through the fleet dispersed,
    Call into mind the fury of your might!
    For I have seen, myself, Jove rendering vain
    The arrows of their mightiest. Man may know
    With ease the hand of interposing Jove,
    Both whom to glory he ordains, and whom
    He weakens and aids not; so now he leaves
    The Grecians, but propitious smiles on us.
    Therefore stand fast, and whosoever gall'd
    By arrow or by spear, dies--let him die;
    It shall not shame him that he died to serve
    His country,[12] but his children, wife and home,
    With all his heritage, shall be secure,
    Drive but the Grecians from the shores of Troy.
    So saying, he animated each. Meantime,
    Ajax his fellow-warriors thus address'd.
    Shame on you all! Now, Grecians, either die,
    Or save at once your galley and yourselves.
    Hope ye, that should your ships become the prize
    Of warlike Hector, ye shall yet return
    On foot? Or hear ye not the Chief aloud
    Summoning all his host, and publishing
    His own heart's wish to burn your fleet with fire?
    Not to a dance, believe me, but to fight
    He calls them; therefore wiser course for us
    Is none, than that we mingle hands with hands
    In contest obstinate, and force with force.
    Better at once to perish, or at once
    To rescue life, than to consume the time
    Hour after hour in lingering conflict vain
    Here at the ships, with an inferior foe.
    He said, and by his words into all hearts
    Fresh confidence infused. Then Hector smote
    Schedius, a Chief of the Phocensian powers
    And son of Perimedes; Ajax slew,
    Meantime, a Chief of Trojan infantry,
    Laodamas, Antenor's noble son
    While by Polydamas, a leader bold
    Of the Epeans, and Phylides'[13] friend,
    Cyllenian Otus died. Meges that sight
    Viewing indignant on the conqueror sprang,
    But, starting wide, Polydamas escaped,
    Saved by Apollo, and his spear transpierced
    The breast of Cræsmus; on his sounding shield
    Prostrate he fell, and Meges stripp'd his arms.
    Him so employ'd Dolops assail'd, brave son
    Of Lampus, best of men and bold in fight,
    Offspring of King Laomedon; he stood
    Full near, and through his middle buckler struck
    The son of Phyleus, but his corselet thick
    With plates of scaly brass his life secured.
    That corselet Phyleus on a time brought home
    From Ephyre, where the Selleïs winds,
    And it was given him for his life's defence
    In furious battle by the King of men,
    Euphetes. Many a time had it preserved
    Unharm'd the sire, and now it saved the son.
    Then Meges, rising, with his pointed lance
    The bushy crest of Dolops' helmet drove
    Sheer from its base; new-tinged with purple bright
    Entire it fell and mingled with the dust.
    While thus they strove, each hoping victory,
    Came martial Menelaus to the aid
    Of Meges; spear in hand apart he stood
    By Dolops unperceived, through his back drove
    And through his breast the spear, and far beyond.
    And down fell Dolops, forehead to the ground.
    At once both flew to strip his radiant arms,
    Then, Hector summoning his kindred, call'd
    Each to his aid, and Melanippus first,
    Illustrious Hicetaon's son, reproved.
    Ere yet the enemies of Troy arrived
    He in Percote fed his wandering beeves;
    But when the Danaï with all their fleet
    Came thither, then returning, he outshone
    The noblest Trojans, and at Priam's side
    Dwelling, was honor'd by him as a son.
    Him Hector reprimanding, stern began.
    Are we thus slack? Can Melanippus view
    Unmoved a kinsman slain? Seest not the Greeks
    How busy there with Dolops and his arms?
    Come on. It is no time for distant war,
    But either our Achaian foes must bleed,
    Or Ilium taken, from her topmost height
    Must stoop, and all her citizens be slain.
    So saying he went, whose steps the godlike Chief
    Attended; and the Telamonian, next,
    Huge Ajax, animated thus the Greeks.
    Oh friends, be men! Deep treasure in your hearts
    An honest shame, and, fighting bravely, fear
    Each to incur the censure of the rest.
    Of men so minded more survive than die,
    While dastards forfeit life and glory both.
    So moved he them, themselves already bent
    To chase the Trojans; yet his word they bore
    Faithful in mind, and with a wall of brass
    Fenced firm the fleet, while Jove impell'd the foe.
    Then Menelaus, brave in fight, approach'd
    Antilochus, and thus his courage roused.
    Antilochus! in all the host is none
    Younger, or swifter, or of stronger limb
    Than thou. Make trial, therefore, of thy might,
    Spring forth and prove it on some Chief of Troy.
    He ended and retired, but him his praise
    Effectual animated; from the van
    Starting, he cast a wistful eye around
    And hurl'd his glittering spear; back fell the ranks
    Of Troy appall'd; nor vain his weapon flew,
    But Melanippus pierced heroic son
    Of Hicetaon, coming forth to fight,
    Full in the bosom, and with dreadful sound
    Of all his batter'd armor down he fell.
    Swift flew Antilochus as flies the hound
    Some fawn to seize, which issuing from her lair
    The hunter with his lance hath stricken dead,
    So thee, O Melanippus! to despoil
    Of thy bright arms valiant Antilochus
    Sprang forth, but not unnoticed by the eye
    Of noble Hector, who through all the war
    Ran to encounter him; his dread approach
    Antilochus, although expert in arms,
    Stood not, but as some prowler of the wilds,
    Conscious of injury that he hath done,
    Slaying the watchful herdsman or his dog,
    Escapes, ere yet the peasantry arise,
    So fled the son of Nestor, after whom
    The Trojans clamoring and Hector pour'd
    Darts numberless; but at the front arrived
    Of his own phalanx, there he turn'd and stood.
    Then, eager as voracious lions, rush'd
    The Trojans on the fleet of Greece, the mind
    Of Jove accomplishing who them impell'd
    Continual, calling all their courage forth,
    While, every Grecian heart he tamed, and took
    Their glory from them, strengthening Ilium's host.
    For Jove's unalter'd purpose was to give
    Success to Priameian Hector's arms,[14]
    That he might cast into the fleet of Greece
    Devouring flames, and that no part might fail
    Of Thetis' ruthless prayer; that sight alone
    He watch'd to see, one galley in a blaze,
    Ordaining foul repulse, thenceforth, and flight
    To Ilium's host, but glory to the Greeks.
    Such was the cause for which, at first, he moved
    To that assault Hector, himself prepared
    And ardent for the task; nor less he raged
    Than Mars while fighting, or than flames that seize
    Some forest on the mountain-tops; the foam
    Hung at his lips, beneath his awful front
    His keen eyes glisten'd, and his helmet mark'd
    The agitation wild with which he fought.
    For Jove omnipotent, himself, from heaven
    Assisted Hector, and, although alone
    With multitudes he strove, gave him to reach
    The heights of glory, for that now his life
    Waned fast, and, urged by Pallas on,[15] his hour
    To die by Peleus' mighty son approach'd.
    He then, wherever richest arms he saw
    And thickest throng, the warrior-ranks essay'd
    To break, but broke them not, though fierce resolved,
    In even square compact so firm they stood.
    As some vast rock beside the hoary Deep
    The stress endures of many a hollow wind,
    And the huge billows tumbling at his base,
    So stood the Danaï, nor fled nor fear'd.
    But he, all-fiery bright in arms, the host
    Assail'd on every side, and on the van
    Fell, as a wave by wintry blasts upheaved
    Falls ponderous on the ship; white clings the foam
    Around her, in her sail shrill howls the storm,
    And every seaman trembles at the view
    Of thousand deaths from which he scarce escapes,
    Such anguish rent the bosom of the Greeks.
    But he, as leaps a famish'd lion fell
    On beeves that graze some marshy meadow's breadth,
    A countless herd, tended by one unskill'd
    To cope with savage beasts in their defence,
    Beside the foremost kine or with the last
    He paces heedless, but the lion, borne
    Impetuous on the midmost, one devours
    And scatters all the rest,[16] so fled the Greeks,
    Terrified from above, before the arm
    Of Hector, and before the frown of Jove.
    All fled, but of them all alone he slew
    The Mycenæan Periphetes, son
    Of Copreus custom'd messenger of King
    Eurystheus to the might of Hercules.
    From such a sire inglorious had arisen
    A son far worthier, with all virtue graced,
    Swift-footed, valiant, and by none excell'd
    In wisdom of the Mycenæan name;
    Yet all but served to ennoble Hector more.
    For Periphetes, with a backward step
    Retiring, on his buckler's border trod,
    Which swept his heels; so check'd, he fell supine,
    And dreadful rang the helmet on his brows.
    Him Hector quick noticing, to his side
    Hasted, and, planting in his breast a spear,
    Slew him before the phalanx of his friends.
    But they, although their fellow-warrior's fate
    They mourn'd, no succor interposed, or could,
    Themselves by noble Hector sore appall'd.
    And now behind the ships (all that updrawn
    Above the shore, stood foremost of the fleet)
    The Greeks retired; in rush'd a flood of foes;
    Then, through necessity, the ships in front
    Abandoning, amid the tents they stood
    Compact, not disarray'd, for shame and fear
    Fast held them, and vociferating each
    Aloud, call'd ceaseless on the rest to stand.
    But earnest more than all, guardian of all,
    Gerenian Nestor in their parents' name
    Implored them, falling at the knees of each.
    Oh friends! be men. Now dearly prize your place
    Each in the estimation of the rest.
    Now call to memory your children, wives,
    Possessions, parents; ye whose parents live,
    And ye whose parents are not, all alike!
    By them as if here present, I entreat
    That ye stand fast--oh be not turn'd to flight!
    So saying he roused the courage of the Greeks;
    Then, Pallas chased the cloud fall'n from above
    On every eye; great light the plain illumed
    On all sides, both toward the fleet, and where
    The undiscriminating battle raged.
    Then might be seen Hector and Hector's host
    Distinct, as well the rearmost who the fight
    Shared not, as those who waged it at the ships.
    To stand aloof where other Grecians stood
    No longer now would satisfy the mind
    Of Ajax, but from deck to deck with strides
    Enormous marching, to and fro he swung
    With iron studs emboss'd a battle-pole
    Unwieldy, twenty and two cubits long.
    As one expert to spring from horse to horse,
    From many steeds selecting four, toward
    Some noble city drives them from the plain
    Along the populous road; him many a youth
    And many a maiden eyes, while still secure
    From steed to steed he vaults; they rapid fly;
    So Ajax o'er the decks of numerous ships
    Stalk'd striding large, and sent his voice to heaven.
    Thus, ever clamoring, he bade the Greeks
    Stand both for camp and fleet. Nor could himself
    Hector, contented, now, the battle wage
    Lost in the multitude of Trojans more,
    But as the tawny eagle on full wing
    Assails the feather'd nations, geese or cranes
    Or swans lithe-neck'd grazing the river's verge,
    So Hector at a galley sable-prow'd
    Darted; for, from behind, Jove urged him on
    With mighty hand, and his host after him.
    And now again the battle at the ships
    Grew furious; thou hadst deem'd them of a kind
    By toil untameable, so fierce they strove,
    And, striving, thus they fought. The Grecians judged
    Hope vain, and the whole host's destruction sure;
    But nought expected every Trojan less
    Than to consume the fleet with fire, and leave
    Achaia's heroes lifeless on the field.
    With such persuasions occupied, they fought.
    Then Hector seized the stern of a brave bark
    Well-built, sharp-keel'd, and of the swiftest sail,
    Which had to Troy Protesiläus brought,
    But bore him never thence. For that same ship
    Contending, Greeks and Trojans hand to hand
    Dealt slaughter mutual. Javelins now no more
    Might serve them, or the arrow-starting bow,
    But close conflicting and of one mind all
    With bill and battle-axe, with ponderous swords,
    And with long lances double-edged they fought.
    Many a black-hilted falchion huge of haft
    Fell to the ground, some from the grasp, and some
    From shoulders of embattled warriors hewn,
    And pools of blood soak'd all the sable glebe.
    Hector that ship once grappled by the stern
    Left not, but griping fast her upper edge
    With both hands, to his Trojans call'd aloud.
    Fire! Bring me fire! Stand fast and shout to heaven!
    Jove gives us now a day worth all the past;
    The ships are ours which, in the Gods' despite
    Steer'd hither, such calamities to us
    Have caused, for which our seniors most I blame
    Who me withheld from battle at the fleet
    And check'd the people; but if then the hand
    Of Thunderer Jove our better judgment marr'd,
    Himself now urges and commands us on.
    He ceased; they still more violent assail'd
    The Grecians. Even Ajax could endure,
    Whelm'd under weapons numberless, that storm
    No longer, but expecting death retired
    Down from the decks to an inferior stand,
    Where still he watch'd, and if a Trojan bore
    Fire thither, he repulsed him with his spear,
    Roaring continual to the host of Greece.
    Friends! Grecian heroes! ministers of Mars!
    Be men, my friends! now summon all your might!
    Think we that we have thousands at our backs
    To succor us, or yet some stronger wall
    To guard our warriors from the battle's force?
    Not so. No tower'd city is at hand,
    None that presents us with a safe retreat
    While others occupy our station here,
    But from the shores of Argos far remote
    Our camp is, where the Trojans arm'd complete
    Swarm on the plain, and Ocean shuts us in.
    Our hands must therefore save us, not our heels
    He said, and furious with his spear again
    Press'd them, and whatsoever Trojan came,
    Obsequious to the will of Hector, arm'd
    With fire to burn the fleet, on his spear's point
    Ajax receiving pierced him, till at length
    Twelve in close fight fell by his single arm.



Extra Info:
1. [The translator seizes the opportunity afforded to him by this remarkable passage, to assure his readers who are not readers of the original, that the discipline which Juno is here said to have suffered from the hands of Jove, is not his own invention. He found it in the original, and considering fidelity as his indispensable duty, has not attempted to soften or to refine away the matter. He begs that this observation may be adverted to as often as any passage shall occur in which ancient practices or customs, not consonant to our own, either in point of delicacy or humanity, may be either expressed or alluded to.

He makes this request the rather, because on these occasions Mr. Pope has observed a different conduct, suppressing all such images as he had reason to suppose might be offensive.]--TR.

2. The earliest form of an oath seems to have been by the elements of nature, or rather the deities who preside over them.--TROLLOPE.

3. In the following speech, Jupiter discloses the future events of the war.

4. The illustration in the following lines is one of the most beautiful in Homer. The rapid passage of Juno is compared to the speed of thought, by which a traveller revisits in imagination the scenes over which he has passed. No simile could more exalt the power of the Goddess.--FELTON.

5. The picture is strikingly true to nature. The smile upon the lip, and frown upon the brow, express admirably the state of mind in which the Goddess must be supposed to have been at this moment.--FELTON.

6: [To tempest--{kydoimêsôn}--Milton uses tempest as a verb. Speaking of the fishes, he says

... part, huge of bulk Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, Tempest the ocean.]--TR.

7. The Furies are said to wait upon men in a double sense; either for evil; as upon Orestes after he had killed his mother, or else for their good, as upon elders when they are injured, to protect them and avenge their wrongs. The ancients considered birth-right as a right divine.

8. [{Trôes de proutypsan aollees}. The translation is literal, and affords one of many instances in which the Greek and English idiom correspond exactly.]--TR.

9. [Arcesilaüs.]

10. [This abruptness of transition from the third person to the first, follows the original.]

11. [The translator hopes that his learned readers will pardon him, if sometimes, to avoid an irksome cacophony, he turns brass into steel. In fact, arrow had not a point of steel, but a brazen one.]--TR.

12. This sentiment is noble and patriotic. It is in strict keeping with the character of Hector, who always appears as his country's champion, and ready to die in her defence. Our sympathies go with him; we involuntarily wish him success, and deplore his misfortune, though we admire the invincible courage of his more fortunate antagonist. His actions and sentiments, springing from the simplest feelings of our nature, will always command applause, and, under all circumstances, and every form of political existence, will be imitated by the defenders of their country.

The speech of Ajax is animating and powerful. It is conceived in the true spirit of a warrior rousing his followers to make a last effort to repel the enemy.--FELTON.

13. [Meges.]

14. Hector is here represented as an instrument in the hand of Jupiter, to bring about the design the God had long ago projected. As his fatal hour now approaches, Jove is willing to recompense his early death with this short-lived glory.

15. It may be asked what Pallas has to do with the Fates, or what power has she over them? Homer speaks thus, because Minerva has already resolved to deceive Hector and exalt Achilles. Pallas, as the wisdom and knowledge of Jove, may be considered as drawing all things to the termination decreed by his councils.

16. [This termination of the period, so little consonant to the beginning of it, follows the original, where it is esteemed by commentators a great beauty.]--TR.



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