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

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 gis, 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 Idan 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 Idan 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 gis-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 ther, 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 gis, 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 Idan 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 Dana, 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, Andrmon's son, address'd,      Foremost of the tolians, 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 gis 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. Arcesilas 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.      neas Medon and Isus slew.      Medon was spurious offspring of divine      Oleus Ajax' father, and abode      In Phylace; for he had slain a Chief      Brother of Eriopis the espoused      Of brave Oleus; but Isus 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 Deochus 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 gis, 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 Nelean's prayer.      But when that voice of gis-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 Cyther, 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 Protian's son, Astynos,      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 Crsmus; 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 Selles 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 Dana 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 Dana, 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 Mycenan 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 Mycenan 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 Protesilus 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.