Complete works of homer, p.133

Complete Works of Homer, page 133

 

Complete Works of Homer
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  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.

  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,

  Phæstus, from fruitful Tarne sent to Troy,

  Son of Mæonian 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,

  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.

  Pedæus, whom, although his spurious son,

  Antenor's wife, to gratify her lord,

  Had cherish'd as her own — him Meges slew.

  Warlike Phylides 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;

  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

  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 Ægis-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!

  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 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.

  Astynoüs 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, 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 Thöon he encounter'd next,

  Both sons of Phænops, 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.

  Æneas 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,

  Æneas! 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 Æneas, 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.

  Æneas! 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

  Æneas; 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 Æneas, 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 Æneas forth with spear and shield,

  That none might drag the body; 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 Æneas 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 Æneas 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,

 

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