Close to the tent; to seek a spear he came;

  To whom Idomeneus: "Meriones,

  Swift-footed son of Molus, comrade dear,

  Why com'st thou here, and leav'st the battle field?

  Hast thou some wound receiv'd, whereof the pain

  Subdues thy spirit? or com'st thou, to the field

  To summon me? unsummon'd, well thou know'st

  I better love the battle than the tent."

  Whom answer'd thus the sage Meriones:

  "Idomeneus, the brass-clad Cretans' King,

  I come to seek a spear, if haply such

  Within thy tent be found; for, in the fight,

  That which I lately bore, e'en now I broke

  Against the shield of brave Deiphobus."

  To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:

  "Of spears, or one, or twenty, if thou list,

  Thou there mayst find against the polish'd wall.

  The spoil of Trojans slain; for with my foes

  'Tis not my wont to wage a distant war.

  Thence have I store of spears, and bossy shields,

  And crested helms, and breastplates polish'd bright."

  Whom answer'd thus the sage Meriones:

  "Nor are my tent and dark-ribb'd ship devoid

  Of Trojan spoils; but they are far to seek;

  Nor deem I that my hand is slack in fight;

  For 'mid the foremost in the glorious strife

  I stand, whene'er is heard the battle cry.

  My deeds by others of the brass-clad Greeks

  May not be noted; but thou know'st them well."

  To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King:

  "What need of this? thy prowess well I know;

  For should we choose our bravest through the fleet

  To man the secret ambush, surest test

  Of warriors' courage, where is manifest

  The diff'rence 'twixt the coward and the brave;

  (The coward's colour changes, nor his soul

  Within his breast its even balance keeps,

  But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts,

  And in his bosom loudly beats his heart,

  Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth:

  The brave man's colour changes not; no fear

  He knows, the ambush ent'ring; all his pray'r

  Is that the hour of battle soon may come)

  E'en there, thy courage none might call in doubt.

  Shouldst thou from spear or sword receive a wound,

  Not on thy neck behind, nor on thy back

  Would fall the blow, but on thy breast, in front,

  Still pressing onward 'mid the foremost ranks.

  But come, prolong we not this idle talk,

  Like babblers vain, who scorn might justly move:

  Haste to my tent, and there select thy spear."

  He said: and from the tent Meriones,

  Valiant as Mars, his spear selected straight,

  And, eager for the fray, rejoin'd his chief.

  As Mars, the bane of men, goes forth to war,

  Attended by his strong, unfearing son,

  Terror, who shakes the bravest warrior's soul;

  They two, from Thrace, against the Ephyri,

  Or haughty Phlegyans arm; nor hear alike

  The pray'rs of both the combatants, one side

  With vict'ry crowning; so to battle went

  Those leaders twain, in dazzling arms array'd:

  Then thus Meriones his chief address'd:

  "Son of Deucalion, say if on the right,

  Or on the centre of the gen'ral host,

  Our onset should be made, or on the left;

  For there, methinks, most succour need the Greeks."

  To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan chief:

  "Others there are the centre to defend,

  Th' Ajaces both, and Teucer, of the Greeks

  Best archer, good too in the standing fight;

  These may for Hector full employment find,

  Brave as he is, and eager for the fray;

  E'en for his courage 'twere a task too hard,

  Their might to conquer, and resistless hands,

  And burn the ships, if Saturn's son himself

  Fire not, and 'mid the shipping throw the torch.

  Great Ajax Telamon to none would yield,

  Of mortal birth, by earthly food sustain'd,

  By spear or pond'rous stone assailable;

  In hand to hand encounter, scarce surpass'd

  By Peleus' son Achilles; though with him

  In speed of foot he might not hope to vie.

  Then on the left let us our onset make;

  And quickly learn if we on others' heads

  Are doom'd to win renown, or they on ours."

  He said: and, brave as Mars, Meriones,

  Thither where he directed, led the way.

  Now when, attended thus, Idomeneus,

  Like blazing fire, in dazzling arms appear'd,

  Around him throng'd, with rallying cries, the Greeks,

  And rag'd beside the ships the balanc'd fight.

  As, when the dust lies deepest on the roads,

  Before the boist'rous winds the storm drives fast,

  And high at once the whirling clouds are toss'd;

  So was the fight confus'd; and in the throng

  Each man with keen desire of slaughter burn'd.

  Bristled the deadly strife with pond'rous spears,

  Wielded with dire intent; the brazen gleam

  Dazzled the sight, by flashing helmets cast,

  And breastplates polish'd bright, and glitt'ring shields

  Commingling; stern of heart indeed were he,

  Who on that sight with joy, not pain, could gaze.

  Dire evil then on mortal warriors brought

  The diverse minds of Saturn's mighty sons:

  To Hector and the Trojans Jove design'd,

  In honour of Achilles, swift of foot,

  To give the vict'ry; yet not utterly

  He will'd to slay before the walls of Troy

  The Grecian host; but glory to confer

  On Thetis and her noble-minded son.

  Neptune, on th' other side, the Greeks inspir'd,

  Clandestine rising from the hoary sea;

  For them before the Trojan host o'erborne

  He saw with grief, and deeply wroth with Jove.

  Equal the rank of both, their birth the same,

  But Jove in wisdom, as in years, the first.

  Nor ventur'd Neptune openly to aid

  The cause of Greece; but cloth'd in mortal form,

  In secret still the army's courage rous'd.

  This way and that they tugg'd of furious war

  And balanc'd strife, where many a warrior fell,

  The straining rope, which none might break or loose.

  Then, though his hair was grizzl'd o'er with age,

  Calling the Greeks to aid, Idomeneus,

  Inspiring terror, on the Trojans sprang,

  And slew Othryoneus, who but of late

  Came from Cabesus on the alarm of war;

  And, welcomed as a guest in Priam's house,

  The fairest of his daughters sought to wed,

  No portion asked, Cassandra; mighty deeds

  He promis'd, from before the walls of Troy

  In their despite to drive the sons of Greece.

  The aged Priam listen'd to his snit;

  And he, his promise trusting, fought for Troy.

  Him, marching with proud step, Idomeneus

  Struck with his glitt'ring spear, nor aught avail'd

  His brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust,

  Thund'ring he fell: the victor vaunting cried:

  "Othryoneus, above all mortal men

  I hold thee in respect, if thou indeed

  Wilt make thy words to aged Priam good,

  Who promis'd thee his daughter in return:

  We too would offer thee a like reward;

  And give thee here to wed, from Argos brought,

  Atrides' fairest daughter, if with us

  Thou wilt o'erthrow the well-built walls of Troy.

  Come then, on board our ocean-going ships

  Discuss the marriage contract; nor shall we

  Be found illib'ral of our bridal gifts."

  He said, and seizing by the foot the slain,

  Dragg'd from the press; but to the rescue came

  Asius, himself on foot before his car:

  So close his charioteer the horses held,

  They breath'd upon his shoulders; eagerly

  He sought to reach Idomeneus; but he,

  Preventing, through his gullet drove the spear,

  Beneath his chin; right through the weapon pass'd;

  He fell; as falls an oak, or poplar tall,

  Or lofty pine, which on the mountain top,

  For some proud ship, the woodman's axe hath hewn:

  So he, before the car and horses stretch'd,

  His death-cry utt'ring, clutch'd the blood-stain'd soil;

  Bewilder'd, helpless, stood his charioteer;

  Nor dar'd, escaping from the foemen's hands,

  To turn his horses: him, Antilochus

  Beneath the waistband struck; nor aught avail'd

  His brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust,

  He, from the well-wrought chariot, gasping, fell.

  Antilochus, the noble Nestor's son,

  The horses seiz'd, and from the Trojan ranks

  Drove to the Grecian camp. For Asius' death

  Deep griev'd, Deiphobus, approaching, hurl'd

  Against Idomeneus his glitt'ring spear:

  The coming weapon he beheld, and shunn'd:

  Beneath the ample circle of his shield,

  With hides and brazen plates encircled round,

  And by two rods sustain'd, conceal'd he stood:

  Beneath he crouch'd, and o'er him flew the spear:

  Yet harsh it grated, glancing from the shield;

  Nor bootless from that stalwart hand it flew,

  But through the midriff, close below the heart,

  Hypsenor, son of Hippasus, it struck,

  And straight relax'd his limbs; then shouting loud,

  In boastful tone, Deiphobus exclaim'd:

  "Not unaveng'd lies Asius; he, methinks,

  As I have found him fellowship, with joy

  Thro' Hades' strongly-guarded gates may pass."

  He said; the Greeks, indignant, heard his boast;

  Chief, of Antilochus the manly soul

  Was stirr'd within him; yet amid his grief

  His comrade not forgetting, up he ran,

  And o'er him spread the cover of his shield.

  Meanwhile, two trusty friends, Mecistheus, son

  Of Echius, and Alastor, rais'd the slain,

  And deeply groaning bore him to the ships.

  Nor did Idomeneus his noble rage

  Abate; still burning o'er some Trojan soul

  To draw the gloomy veil of night and death;

  Or, having sav'd the Greeks, himself to fall.

  Then high-born AEsuetes' son he slew,

  Alcathous; he, Anchises' son-in-law,

  The eldest of his daughters had to wife,

  Hippodamia; by her parents both,

  O'er all, belov'd; in beauty, skill, and mind,

  All her compeers surpassing; wife of one,

  The noblest man through all the breadth of Troy.

  Him Neptune by Idomeneus subdued;

  Seal'd his quick eyes, his active limbs restrain'd,

  Without the pow'r to fly, or shun the spear;

  Fix'd as a pillar, or a lofty tree,

  He stood, while through his breast Idomeneus

  His weapon drove; the brazen mail it broke,

  Which oft had turn'd aside the stroke of death;

  Harshly it grated, sever'd by the spear:

  He fell; the spear-point quiv'ring in his heart,

  Which with convulsive throbbings shook the shaft.

  There Mars its course arrested. Then with shouts

  Of triumph, vaunting, thus Idomeneus:

  "How now, Deiphobus? are three for one

  An equal balance? where are now thy boasts?

  Come forth, my friend, thyself to me oppos'd;

  And learn, if here, unworthy my descent

  From Jove, my great progenitor, I stand.

  He Minos, guardian chief of Crete, begot;

  Noble Deucalion was to Minos born,

  I to Deucalion; far extends my rule

  In wide-spread Crete; whom now our ships have brought,

  A bane to thee, thy sire, and Trojans all."

  He said; and doubtful stood Deiphobus,

  Or to retreat, and summon to his aid

  The Trojans, or alone the venture try.

  Thus as he mus'd, the wiser course appear'd

  To seek AEneas; him he found apart,

  Behind the crowd; for he was still at feud

  With godlike Priam, who, he thought, withheld

  The public honour to his valour due.

  To whom Deiphobus, approaching, thus:

  "AEneas, sagest councillor of Troy,

  Behoves thee now, if rev'rence for the dead

  Can move thy soul, thy sister's husband aid:

  Haste we to save Alcathous; who of old,

  When thou wast little, in thy father's house,

  Nurs'd thee with tender care; for him, but now,

  The spear-renown'd Idomeneus hath slain."

  He said; AEneas' spirit was rous'd, and fill'd

  With martial rage he sought Idomeneus.

  Nor, cowardlike, did he th' encounter shun;

  But firmly stood, as stands a mountain-boar

  Self-confident, that in some lonely spot

  Awaits the clam'rous chase; bristles his back;

  His eyes with fire are flashing; and his tusks

  He whets, on men and dogs prepar'd to rush:

  So stood the spear-renown'd Idomeneus,

  The onset of AEneas, swift in fight,

  Awaiting; and the friends he saw around

  He summon'd to his aid; Ascalaphus,

  Deipyrus, and brave Meriones,

  Antilochus and Aphareus; to these,

  Tried warriors all, he thus addressed his speech:

  "Aid me, my friends! alone I stand, and dread

  The onset of AEneas, swift of foot.

  Mighty to slay in battle; and the bloom

  Of youth is his, the crown of human strength;

  If, as our spirit, our years were but the same,

  Great glory now should he, or I, obtain."

  He said; and, one in heart, their bucklers slop'd

  Upon their shoulders, all beside him stood.

  On th' other side, AEneas to his aid

  Summon'd his brother chiefs, Deiphobus,

  And Paris, and Agenor; following whom

  Came on the gen'ral crowd; as flocks of sheep

  From pasture follow to their drinking-place

  The lordly ram; well pleas'd the shepherd sees;

  So pleas'd, AEneas saw the gath'ring crowd.

  Then o'er Alcathous hand to hand was wag'd

  The war of spears; dire was the clash of brass

  Upon the heroes' breasts, as 'mid the press

  Each aim'd at other; proudly eminent

  Stood forth two mighty warriors, terrible

  As Mars, AEneas and Idomeneus,

  Their sharp spears wielding each at other's life.

  First at Idomeneus AEneas threw

  His spear; he saw, and shunn'd the brazen point;

  And vainly from his stalwart hand dismiss'd,

  AEneas' spear stood quiv'ring in the ground.

  Idomeneus in front, below the waist,

  OEnomaus struck; the weighty spear broke through

  The hollow breastplate, and th' intestines tore;

  Prone in the dust he fell, and clutch'd the ground.

  Forthwith Idomeneus from out the corpse

  The pond'rous spear withdrew; yet could not strip

  His armour off; so thickly flew the spears.

  Nor did his feet retain their youthful force,

  His weapon to regain, or back to spring.

  Skill'd in the standing fight his life to guard,

  He lack'd the active pow'r of swift retreat.

  At him, retiring slow, Deiphobus,

  Still fill'd with anger, threw his glitt'ring spear:

  His aim he miss'd; but through the shoulder pierc'd

  Ascalaphus, a valiant son of Mars;

  Prone in the dust he fell, and clutch'd the ground.

  Nor knew the loud-voic'd, mighty God of War

  That in the stubborn fight his son had fall'n;

  On high Olympus, girt with golden clouds,

  He sat, amid th' Immortals all, restrain'd,

  By Jove's commands, from mingling in the war.

  How hand to hand around Ascalaphus

  Rag'd the fierce conflict: first Deiphobus

  From off his head the glitt'ring helmet tore;

  But, terrible as Mars, Meriones

  Sprang forth, and pierc'd his arm; and from his hand

  With hollow sound the crested helmet fell.

  On, like a vulture, sprang Meriones,

  And from his arm the sturdy spear withdrew;

  Then backward leap'd amid his comrades' ranks;

  While round his brother's waist Polites threw

  His arms, and led him from the battle-field

  To where, with charioteer and rich-wrought car,

  Beyond the fight, his flying coursers stood.

  Him, rack'd with pain, and groaning, while the blood

  Stream'd down his wounded arm, to Troy they bore.

  The rest fought on, and loud the tumult rose.

  AEneas through the throat of Aphareus,

  Caletor's son, turn'd sideways tow'rds him, drove

  His glitt'ring spear; and down on th' other side,

  His shield and helmet following, sank his head;

  And o'er his eyes were cast the shades of death.

  As Thoon turn'd, Antilochus, who watch'd

  Th' occasion, forward sprang, and with his spear

  Ripp'd all the flesh that lay along the spine

  Up to the neck; he backward fell, with hands

  Uplifted calling for his comrades' aid:

  But forward sprang Antilochus, and tore

  His armour from his breast, while round he cast

  His watchful glances; for on ev'ry side

  On his broad shield the Trojans show'r'd their blows,

  But touch'd him not; for Neptune, 'mid the throng

  Of weapons, threw his guard o'er Nestor's son.

  Yet not aloof he stood, but in their midst,

  Commingled; nor held motionless his spear;

  But ever threat'ning, turn'd from side to side,

 

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