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

Argument Of The Sixteenth Book.     Achilles, at the suit of Patroclus, grants him his own armor, and permission to lead the Myrmidons to battle. They, sallying, repulse the Trojans. Patroclus slays Sarpedon, and Hector, when Apollo had first stripped off his armor and Euphorbus wounded him, slays Patroclus.      Such contest for that gallant bark they waged.      Meantime Patroclus, standing at the side      Of the illustrious Chief Achilles, wept      Fast as a crystal fountain from the height      Of some rude rock pours down its rapid[1] stream.      Divine Achilles with compassion moved      Mark'd him, and in wing'd accents thus began.[2]      Who weeps Patroclus like an infant girl      Who, running at her mother's side, entreats      To be uplifted in her arms? She grasps      Her mantle, checks her haste, and looking up      With tearful eyes, pleads earnest to be borne;      So fall, Patroclus! thy unceasing tears.      Bring'st thou to me or to my people aught      Afflictive? Hast thou mournful tidings learn'd      Prom Phthia, trusted to thy ear alone?      Menoetius, son of Actor, as they say,      Still lives; still lives his Myrmidons among      Peleus acides; whom, were they dead,      With cause sufficient we should both deplore.      Or weep'st thou the Achaians at the ships      Perishing, for their outrage done to me?      Speak. Name thy trouble. I would learn the cause      To whom, deep-sorrowing, thou didst reply,      Patroclus! Oh Achilles, Peleus' son!      Noblest of all our host! bear with my grief,      Since such distress hath on the Grecians fallen.      The bravest of their ships disabled lie,      Some wounded from afar, some hand to hand.      Diomede, warlike son of Tydeus, bleeds,      Gall'd by a shaft; Ulysses, glorious Chief,      And Agamemnon suffer by the spear,      And brave Eurypylus an arrow-point      Bears in his thigh. These all, are now the care      Of healing hands. Oh thou art pity-proof,      Achilles! be my bosom ever free      From anger such as harbor finds in thine,      Scorning all limits! whom, of men unborn,      Hereafter wilt thou save, from whom avert      Disgrace, if not from the Achaians now?      Ah ruthless! neither Peleus thee begat,      Nor Thetis bore, but rugged rocks sublime,      And roaring billows blue gave birth to thee,      Who bear'st a mind that knows not to relent,      But, if some prophecy alarm thy fears,      If from thy Goddess-mother thou have aught      Received, and with authority of Jove,      Me send at least, me quickly, and with me      The Myrmidons. A dawn of cheerful hope      Shall thence, it may be, on the Greeks arise.      Grant me thine armor also, that the foe      Thyself supposing present, may abstain      From battle, and the weary Greeks enjoy      Short respite; it is all that war allows.      We, fresh and vigorous, by our shouts alone      May easily repulse an army spent      With labor from the camp, and from the fleet,      Such suit he made, alas! all unforewarn'd      That his own death should be the bitter fruit,      And thus Achilles, sorrowful, replied.      Patroclus, noble friend! what hast thou spoken?      Me neither prophesy that I have heard      Holds in suspense, nor aught that I have learn'd      From Thetis with authority of Jove!      Hence springs, and hence alone, my grief of heart;      If one, in nought superior to myself      Save in his office only, should by force      Amerce me of my well-earn'd recompense--      How then? There lies the grief that stings my soul.      The virgin chosen for me by the sons      Of Greece, my just reward, by my own spear      Obtain'd when I Etion's city took,      Her, Agamemnon, leader of the host      From my possession wrung, as I had been      Some alien wretch, unhonor'd and unknown.      But let it pass; anger is not a flame      To feed for ever; I affirm'd, indeed,      Mine inextinguishable till the shout      Of battle should invade my proper barks;      But thou put on my glorious arms, lead forth      My valiant Myrmidons, since such a cloud,      So dark, of dire hostility surrounds      The fleet, and the Achaians, by the waves      Hemm'd in, are prison'd now in narrow space.      Because the Trojans meet not in the field      My dazzling helmet, therefore bolder grown      All Ilium comes abroad; but had I found      Kindness at royal Agamemnon's hands,      Soon had they fled, and with their bodies chok'd      The streams, from whom ourselves now suffer siege      For in the hands of Diomede his spear      No longer rages rescuing from death      The afflicted Dana, nor hear I more      The voice of Agamemnon issuing harsh      From his detested throat, but all around      The burst[3] of homicidal Hector's cries,      Calling his Trojans on; they loud insult      The vanquish'd Greeks, and claim the field their own.      Go therefore, my Patroclus; furious fall      On these assailants, even now preserve      From fire the only hope of our return.      But hear the sum of all; mark well my word;      So shalt thou glorify me in the eyes      Of all the Dana, and they shall yield      Brisis mine, with many a gift beside.      The Trojans from the fleet expell'd, return.      Should Juno's awful spouse give thee to win      Victory, be content; seek not to press      The Trojans without me, for thou shalt add      Still more to the disgrace already mine.[4]      Much less, by martial ardor urged, conduct      Thy slaughtering legions to the walls of Troy,      Lest some immortal power on her behalf      Descend, for much the Archer of the skies      Loves Ilium. No--the fleet once saved, lead back      Thy band, and leave the battle to themselves.      For oh, by all the powers of heaven I would      That not one Trojan might escape of all,      Nor yet a Grecian, but that we, from death      Ourselves escaping, might survive to spread      Troy's sacred bulwarks on the ground, alone.      Thus they conferr'd. [5]But Ajax overwhelm'd      Meantime with darts, no longer could endure,      Quell'd both by Jupiter and by the spears      Of many a noble Trojan; hideous rang      His batter'd helmet bright, stroke after stroke      Sustaining on all sides, and his left arm      That had so long shifted from side to side      His restless shield, now fail'd; yet could not all      Displace him with united force, or move.      Quick pantings heaved his chest, copious the sweat      Trickled from all his limbs, nor found he time,      However short, to breathe again, so close      Evil on evil heap'd hemm'd him around.      Olympian Muses! now declare, how first      The fire was kindled in Achaia's fleet?      Hector the ashen lance of Ajax smote      With his broad falchion, at the nether end,      And lopp'd it sheer. The Telamonian Chief      His mutilated beam brandish'd in vain,      And the bright point shrill-sounding-fell remote.      Then Ajax in his noble mind perceived,      Shuddering with awe, the interposing power      Of heaven, and that, propitious to the arms      Of Troy, the Thunderer had ordain'd to mar      And frustrate all the counsels of the Greeks.      He left his stand; they fired the gallant bark;      Through all her length the conflagration ran      Incontinent, and wrapp'd her stern in flames.      Achilles saw them, smote his thighs, and said,      Patroclus, noble charioteer, arise!      I see the rapid run of hostile fires      Already in the fleet--lest all be lost,      And our return impossible, arm, arm      This moment; I will call, myself, the band.      Then put Patroclus on his radiant arms.      Around his legs his polish'd greaves he clasp'd,      With argent studs secured; the hauberk rich      Star-spangled to his breast he bound of swift      acides; he slung his brazen sword      With silver bright emboss'd, and his broad shield      Ponderous; on his noble head his casque      He settled elegant, whose lofty crest      Waved dreadful o'er his brows, and last he seized      Well fitted to his gripe two sturdy spears.      Of all Achilles' arms his spear alone      He took not; that huge beam, of bulk and length      Enormous, none, acides except,      In all Achaia's host had power to wield.      It was that Pelian ash which from the top      Of Pelion hewn that it might prove the death      Of heroes, Chiron had to Peleus given.      He bade Automedon his coursers bind      Speedily to the yoke, for him he loved      Next to Achilles most, as worthiest found      Of trust, what time the battle loudest roar'd.      Then led Automedon the fiery steeds      Swift as wing'd tempests to the chariot-yoke,      Xanthus and Balius. Them the harpy bore      Podarge, while in meadows green she fed      On Ocean's side, to Zephyrus the wind.      To these he added, at their side, a third,      The noble Pedasus; him Peleus' son,      Etion's city taken, thence had brought,      Though mortal, yet a match for steeds divine.      Meantime from every tent Achilles call'd      And arm'd his Myrmidons. As wolves that gorge      The prey yet panting, terrible in force,      When on the mountains wild they have devour'd      An antler'd stag new-slain, with bloody jaws      Troop all at once to some clear fountain, there      To lap with slender tongues the brimming wave;      No fears have they, but at their ease eject      From full maws flatulent the clotted gore;      Such seem'd the Myrmidon heroic Chiefs      Assembling fast around the valiant friend      Of swift acides. Amid them stood      Warlike Achilles, the well-shielded ranks      Exhorting, and the steeds, to glorious war.      The galleys by Achilles dear to Jove      Commanded, when to Ilium's coast he steer'd,      Were fifty; fifty rowers sat in each,      And five, in whom he trusted, o'er the rest      He captains named, but ruled, himself, supreme.      One band Menestheus swift in battle led,      Offspring of Sperchius heaven-descended stream.      Him Polydora, Peleus' daughter, bore      To ever-flowing Sperchius, compress'd,      Although a mortal woman, by a God.      But his reputed father was the son      Of Perieres, Borus, who with dower      Enrich'd, and made her openly his bride.      Warlike Eudorus led the second band.      Him Polymela, graceful in the dance,      And daughter beautiful of Phylas, bore,      A mother unsuspected of a child.      Her worshiping the golden-shafted Queen      Diana, in full choir, with song and dance,      The valiant Argicide[6] beheld and loved.      Ascending with her to an upper room,      All-bounteous Mercury[7] clandestine there      Embraced her, who a noble son produced      Eudorus, swift to run, and bold in fight.      No sooner Ilithya, arbitress      Of pangs puerperal, had given him birth,      And he beheld the beaming sun, than her      Echechleus, Actor's mighty son, enrich'd      With countless dower, and led her to his home;      While ancient Phylas, cherishing her boy      With fond affection, reared him as his own.      The third brave troop warlike Pisander led,      Offspring of Maimalus; he far excell'd      In spear-fight every Myrmidon, the friend      Of Peleus' dauntless son alone except.      The hoary Phoenix of equestrian fame      The fourth band led to battle, and the fifth      Larceus' offspring, bold Alcimedon.      Thus, all his bands beneath their proper Chiefs      Marshall'd, Achilles gave them strict command--      Myrmidons! all that vengeance now inflict,      Which in this fleet ye ceased not to denounce      Against the Trojans while my wrath endured.      Me censuring, ye have proclaim'd me oft      Obdurate. Oh Achilles! ye have said,      Thee not with milk thy mother but with bile      Suckled, who hold'st thy people here in camp      Thus long imprison'd. Unrelenting Chief!      Even let us hence in our sea-skimming barks      To Phthia, since thou can'st not be appeased--      Thus in full council have ye spoken oft.      Now, therefore, since a day of glorious toil      At last appears, such as ye have desired,      There lies the field--go--give your courage proof.      So them he roused, and they, their leader's voice      Hearing elate, to closest order drew.      As when an architect some palace wall      With shapely stones upbuilds, cementing close      A barrier against all the winds of heaven,      So wedged, the helmets and boss'd bucklers stood;      Shield, helmet, man, press'd helmet, man, and shield,      And every bright-arm'd warrior's bushy crest      Its fellow swept, so dense was their array.      In front of all, two Chiefs their station took,      Patroclus and Automedon; one mind      In both prevail'd, to combat in the van      Of all the Myrmidons. Achilles, then,      Retiring to his tent, displaced the lid      Of a capacious chest magnificent      By silver-footed Thetis stow'd on board      His bark, and fill'd with tunics, mantles warm,      And gorgeous arras; there he also kept      Secure a goblet exquisitely wrought,      Which never lip touched save his own, and whence      He offer'd only to the Sire of all.      That cup producing from the chest, he first      With sulphur fumed it, then with water rinsed      Pellucid of the running stream, and, last      (His hands clean laved) he charged it high with wine.      And now, advancing to his middle court,      He pour'd libation, and with eyes to heaven      Uplifted pray'd,[8] of Jove not unobserved.      Pelasgian, Dodonan Jove supreme,      Dwelling remote, who on Dodona's heights      Snow-clad reign'st Sovereign, by thy seers around      Compass'd the Selli, prophets vow-constrain'd      To unwash'd feet and slumbers on the ground!      Plain I behold my former prayer perform'd,      Myself exalted, and the Greeks abased.      Now also grant me, Jove, this my desire!      Here, in my fleet, I shall myself abide,      But lo! with all these Myrmidons I send      My friend to battle. Thunder-rolling Jove,      Send glory with him, make his courage firm!      That even Hector may himself be taught,      If my companion have a valiant heart      When he goes forth alone, or only then      The noble frenzy feels that Mars inspires      When I rush also to the glorious field.      But when he shall have driven the battle-shout      Once from the fleet, grant him with all his arms,      None lost, himself unhurt, and my whole band      Of dauntless warriors with him, safe return!      Such prayer Achilles offer'd, and his suit      Jove hearing, part confirm'd, and part refused;      To chase the dreadful battle from the fleet      He gave him, but vouchsafed him no return.      Prayer and libation thus perform'd to Jove      The Sire of all, Achilles to his tent      Return'd, replaced the goblet in his chest,      And anxious still that conflict to behold      Between the hosts, stood forth before his tent.      Then rush'd the bands by brave Patroclus led,      Full on the Trojan host. As wasps forsake      Their home by the way-side, provoked by boys      Disturbing inconsiderate their abode,      Not without nuisance sore to all who pass,      For if, thenceforth, some traveller unaware      Annoy them, issuing one and all they swarm      Around him, fearless in their broods' defence,      So issued from their fleet the Myrmidons      Undaunted; clamor infinite arose,      And thus Patroclus loud his host address'd.      Oh Myrmidons, attendants in the field      On Peleus' son, now be ye men, my friends!      Call now to mind the fury of your might;      That we, close-fighting servants of the Chief      Most excellent in all the camp of Greece,      May glory gain for him, and that the wide-      Commanding Agamemnon, Atreus' son,      May learn his fault, that he dishonor'd foul      The prince in whom Achaia glories most.      So saying he fired their hearts, and on the van      Of Troy at once they fell; loud shouted all      The joyful Grecians, and the navy rang.      Then, soon as Ilium's host the valiant son      Saw of Menoetius and his charioteer      In dazzling armor clad, all courage lost,      Their closest ranks gave way, believing sure      That, wrath renounced, and terms of friendship chosen,      Achilles' self was there; thus thinking, each      Look'd every way for refuge from his fate.      Patroclus first, where thickest throng he saw      Gather'd tumultuous around the bark      Of brave Protesilas, hurl'd direct      At the whole multitude his glittering spear.      He smote Pyrchmes; he his horsemen band      Poeonian led from Amydon, and from      Broad-flowing Axius. In his shoulder stood      The spear, and with loud groans supine he fell.      At once fled all his followers, on all sides      With consternation fill'd, seeing their Chief      And their best warrior, by Patroclus slain.      Forth from the fleet he drove them, quench'd the flames,      And rescued half the ship. Then scatter'd fled      With infinite uproar the host of Troy,      While from between their ships the Dana      Pour'd after them, and hideous rout ensued.      As when the king of lightnings, Jove, dispels      From some huge eminence a gloomy cloud,      The groves, the mountain-tops, the headland heights      Shine all, illumined from the boundless heaven,      So when the Dana those hostile fires      Had from their fleet expell'd, awhile they breathed,      Yet found short respite, for the battle yet      Ceased not, nor fled the Trojans in all parts      Alike, but still resisted, from the ships      Retiring through necessity alone.      Then, in that scatter'd warfare, every Chief      Slew one. While Arelochus his back      Turn'd on Patroclus, sudden with a lance      His thigh he pierced, and urged the weapon through,      Shivering the bone; he headlong smote the ground.      The hero Menelaus, where he saw      The breast of Thoas by his slanting shield      Unguarded, struck and stretch'd him at his feet.      Phylides,[9] meeting with preventive spear      The furious onset of Amphiclus, gash'd      His leg below the knee, where brawny most      The muscles swell in man; disparted wide      The tendons shrank, and darkness veil'd his eyes.      The two Nestorid slew each a Chief.      Of these, Antilochus Atymnius pierced      Right through his flank, and at his feet he fell.      With fierce resentment fired Maris beheld      His brother's fall, and guarding, spear in hand,      The slain, impetuous on the conqueror flew;      But godlike Thrasymedes[10] wounded first      Maris, ere he Antilochus; he pierced      His upper arm, and with the lance's point      Rent off and stript the muscles to the bone.      Sounding he fell, and darkness veil'd his eyes.      They thus, two brothers by two brothers slain,      Went down to Erebus, associates both      Of brave Sarpedon, and spear-practised sons      Of Amisodarus; of him who fed      Chimra,[11] monster, by whom many died.      Ajax the swift on Cleobulus sprang,      Whom while he toil'd entangled in the crowd,      He seized alive, but smote him where he stood      With his huge-hafted sword full on the neck;      The blood warm'd all his blade, and ruthless fate      Benighted dark the dying warrior's eyes.      Peneleus into close contention rush'd      And Lycon. Each had hurl'd his glittering spear,      But each in vain, and now with swords they met.      He smote Peneleus on the crested casque,      But snapp'd his falchion; him Peneleus smote      Beneath his ear; the whole blade entering sank      Into his neck, and Lycon with his head      Depending by the skin alone, expired.      Meriones o'ertaking Acamas      Ere yet he could ascend his chariot, thrust      A lance into his shoulder; down he fell      In dreary death's eternal darkness whelm'd.      Idomeneus his ruthless spear enforced      Into the mouth of Erymas. The point      Stay'd not, but gliding close beneath the brain,      Transpierced his spine,[12] and started forth beyond.      It wrench'd his teeth, and fill'd his eyes with blood;      Blood also blowing through his open mouth      And nostrils, to the realms of death he pass'd.      Thus slew these Grecian leaders, each, a foe.      Sudden as hungry wolves the kids purloin      Or lambs, which haply some unheeding swain      Hath left to roam at large the mountains wild;      They, seeing, snatch them from beside the dams,      And rend incontinent the feeble prey,      So swift the Dana the host assail'd      Of Ilium; they, into tumultuous flight      Together driven, all hope, all courage lost.      Huge Ajax ceaseless sought his spear to cast      At Hector brazen-mail'd, who, not untaught      The warrior's art, with bull-hide buckler stood      Sheltering his ample shoulders, while he mark'd      The hiss of flying shafts and crash of spears.      Full sure he saw the shifting course of war      Now turn'd, but scorning flight, bent all his thoughts      To rescue yet the remnant of his friends.      As when the Thunderer spreads a sable storm      O'er ether, late serene, the cloud that wrapp'd      Olympus' head escapes into the skies,      So fled the Trojans from the fleet of Greece      Clamoring in their flight, nor pass'd the trench      In fair array; the coursers fleet indeed      Of Hector, him bore safe with all his arms      Right through, but in the foss entangled foul      He left his host, and struggling to escape.      Then many a chariot-whirling steed, the pole      Broken at its extremity, forsook      His driver, while Patroclus with the shout      Of battle calling his Achaians on,      Destruction purposed to the powers of Troy.      They, once dispersed, with clamor and with flight      Fill'd all the ways, the dust beneath the clouds      Hung like a tempest, and the steeds firm-hoof'd      Whirl'd off at stretch the chariots to the town.      He, wheresoe'er most troubled he perceived      The routed host, loud-threatening thither drove,      While under his own axle many a Chief      Fell prone, and the o'ertumbled chariots rang.      Right o'er the hollow foss the coursers leap'd      Immortal, by the Gods to Peleus given,      Impatient for the plain, nor less desire      Felt he who drove to smite the Trojan Chief,      But him his fiery steeds caught swift away.      As when a tempest from autumnal skies      Floats all the fields, what time Jove heaviest pours      Impetuous rain, token of wrath divine      Against perverters of the laws by force,      Who drive forth justice, reckless of the Gods;      The rivers and the torrents, where they dwell,      Sweep many a green declivity away,      And plunge at length, groaning, into the Deep      From the hills headlong, leaving where they pass'd      No traces of the pleasant works of man,      So, in their flight, loud groan'd the steeds of Troy.      And now, their foremost intercepted all,      Patroclus back again toward the fleet      Drove them precipitate, nor the ascent      Permitted them to Troy for which they strove,      But in the midway space between the ships      The river and the lofty Trojan wall      Pursued them ardent, slaughtering whom he reached,      And vengeance took for many a Grecian slain.      First then, with glittering spear the breast he pierced      Of Pronus, undefended by his shield,      And stretch'd him dead; loud rang his batter'd arms.      The son of Enops, Thestor next he smote.      He on his chariot-seat magnificent      Low-cowering sat, a fear-distracted form,      And from his palsied grasp the reins had fallen.      Then came Patroclus nigh, and through his cheek      His teeth transpiercing, drew him by his lance      Sheer o'er the chariot front. As when a man      On some projecting rock seated, with line      And splendid hook draws forth a sea-fish huge,      So him wide-gaping from his seat he drew      At his spear-point, then shook him to the ground      Prone on his face, where gasping he expired.      At Eryalus, next, advancing swift      He hurl'd a rock; full on the middle front      He smote him, and within the ponderous casque      His whole head open'd into equal halves.      With deadliest night surrounded, prone he fell.      Epaltes, Erymas, Amphoterus,      Echius, Tlepolemus Damastor's son,      Evippus, Ipheus, Pyres, Polymelus,      All these he on the champain, corse on corse      Promiscuous flung. Sarpedon, when he saw      Such havoc made of his uncinctured[13] friends      By Menoetiades, with sharp rebuke      His band of godlike Lycians loud address'd.      Shame on you, Lycians! whither would ye fly?      Now are ye swift indeed! I will oppose      Myself this conqueror, that I may learn      Who thus afflicts the Trojan host, of life      Bereaving numerous of their warriors bold.      He said, and with his arms leap'd to the ground.      On the other side, Patroclus at that sight      Sprang from his chariot. As two vultures clash      Bow-beak'd, crook-talon'd, on some lofty rock      Clamoring both, so they together rush'd      With clamors loud; whom when the son observed      Of wily Saturn, with compassion moved      His sister and his spouse he thus bespake.      Alas, he falls! my most beloved of men      Sarpedon, vanquished by Patroclus, falls!      So will the Fates. Yet, doubtful, much I muse      Whether to place him, snatch'd from furious fight      In Lycia's wealthy realm, or to permit      His death by valiant Menoetiades.      To whom his awful spouse, displeased, replied.      How speaks the terrible Saturnian Jove!      Wouldst thou again from pangs of death exempt      A mortal man, destined long since to die?      Do it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven,      Mark thou my words, and in thy inmost breast      Treasure them. If thou send Sarpedon safe      To his own home, how many Gods their sons      May also send from battle? Weigh it well.      For under yon great city fight no few      Sprung from Immortals whom thou shalt provoke.      But if thou love him, and thine heart his lot      Commiserate, leave him by the hands to fall      Of Menoetiades in conflict dire;      But give command to Death and gentle Sleep      That him of life bereft at once they bear      To Lycia's ample realm,[14] where, with due rites      Funereal, his next kindred and his friends      Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb      (The dead man's portion) rearing to his name.      She said, from whom the Sire of Gods and men      Dissented not, but on the earth distill'd      A sanguine shower in honor of a son      Dear to him, whom Patroclus on the field      Of fruitful Troy should slay, far from his home.      Opposite now, small interval between,      Those heroes stood. Patroclus at his waist      Pierced Thrasymelus the illustrious friend      Of King Sarpedon, and his charioteer.      Spear'd through the lower bowels, dead he fell.      Then hurl'd Sarpedon in his turn a lance,      But miss'd Patroclus and the shoulder pierced      Of Pedasus the horse; he groaning heaved      His spirit forth, and fallen on the field      In long loud moanings sorrowful expired.      Wide started the immortal pair; the yoke      Creak'd, and entanglement of reins ensued      To both, their fellow slaughter'd at their side.      That mischief soon Automedon redress'd.      He rose, and from beside his sturdy thigh      Drawing his falchion, with effectual stroke      Cut loose the side-horse; then the pair reduced      To order, in their traces stood composed,      And the two heroes fierce engaged again.      Again his radiant spear Sarpedon hurl'd,      But miss'd Patroclus; the innocuous point,      O'erflying his left shoulder, pass'd beyond.      Then with bright lance Patroclus in his turn      Assail'd Sarpedon, nor with erring course      The weapon sped or vain, but pierced profound      His chest, enclosure of the guarded heart.      As falls an oak, poplar, or lofty pine      With new-edged axes on the mountains hewn      Right through, for structure of some gallant bark,      So fell Sarpedon stretch'd his steeds before      And gnash'd his teeth and clutch'd the bloody dust,      And as a lion slays a tawny bull      Leader magnanimous of all the herd;      Beneath the lion's jaws groaning he dies;      So, leader of the shielded Lycians groan'd      Indignant, by Patroclus slain, the bold      Sarpedon, and his friend thus, sad, bespake.      Glaucus, my friend, among these warring Chiefs      Thyself a Chief illustrious! thou hast need      Of all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,      And, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,      Now make the war's calamities thy joy.      First, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse      Our Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain,      Then haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend.      For shame and foul dishonor which no time      Shall e'er obliterate, I must prove to thee,      Should the Achaians of my glorious arms      Despoil me in full prospect[15] of the fleet.      Fight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight.      He said, and cover'd by the night of death,      Nor look'd nor breath'd again; for on his chest      Implanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew      The spear enfolded with his vitals forth,      Weapon and life at once. Meantime his steeds      Snorted, by Myrmidons detain'd, and, loosed      From their own master's chariot, foam'd to fly.      Terrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,      Hearing that charge, and troubled was his heart      That all power fail'd him to protect the dead.      Compressing his own arm he stood, with pain      Extreme tormented which the shaft had caused      Of Teucer, who while Glaucus climb'd the wall,      Had pierced him from it, in the fleet's defence.      Then, thus, to Phoebus, King shaft-arm'd, he pray'd.      Hear now, O King! For whether in the land      Of wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,      Thou hear'st in every place alike the prayer      Of the afflicted heart, and such is mine;      Behold my wound; it fills my useless hand      With anguish, neither can my blood be stay'd,      And all my shoulder suffers. I can grasp      A spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks      No longer now; and we have also lost      Our noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,      Who guards not his own son. But thou, O King!      Heal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,      That I may animate the Lycian host      To fight, and may, myself, defend the dead!      Such prayer he offer'd, whom Apollo heard;      He eased at once his pain, the sable blood      Staunch'd, and his soul with vigor new inspired.      Then Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived      Granted, and joyful for the sudden aid      Vouchsafed to him by Phoebus, first the lines      Of Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief      To fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next      With eager haste into the ranks of Troy,      Renown'd Agenor and the son he call'd      Of Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom      neas also, and approaching last      To Hector brazen-mail'd him thus bespake.      Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign'd      All care of thy allies, who, for thy sake,      Lost both to friends and country, on these plains      Perish, unaided and unmiss'd by thee.      Sarpedon breathless lies, who led to fight      Our shielded bands, and from whose just control      And courage Lycia drew her chief defence.      Him brazen Mars hath by the spear subdued      Of Menoetiades. But stand ye firm!      Let indignation fire you, O my friends!      Lest, stripping him of his resplendent arms,      The Myrmidons with foul dishonor shame      His body, through resentment of the deaths      Of numerous Grecians slain by spears of ours.      He ceased; then sorrow every Trojan heart      Seized insupportable and that disdain'd      All bounds, for that, although a stranger born,      Sarpedon ever had a bulwark proved      To Troy, the leader of a numerous host,      And of that host by none in fight excell'd.      Right on toward the Dana they moved      Ardent for battle all, and at their head      Enraged for slain Sarpedon, Hector came.      Meantime, stout-hearted[16] Chief, Patroclus roused      The Grecians, and exhorting first (themselves      Already prompt) the Ajaces, thus began.      Heroic pair! now make it all your joy      To chase the Trojan host, and such to prove      As erst, or even bolder, if ye may.      The Chief lies breathless who ascended first      Our wall, Sarpedon. Let us bear him hence,      Strip and dishonor him, and in the blood      Of his protectors drench the ruthless spear.      So Menoetiades his warriors urged,      Themselves courageous. Then the Lycian host      And Trojan here, and there the Myrmidons      With all the host of Greece, closing the ranks      Rush'd into furious contest for the dead,      Shouting tremendous; clang'd their brazen arms,      And Jove with Night's pernicious shades[17] o'erhung      The bloody field, so to enhance the more      Their toilsome strife for his own son. First then      The Trojans from their place and order shock'd      The bright-eyed Grecians, slaying not the least      Nor worst among the Myrmidons, the brave      Epigeus from renown'd Agacles sprung.      He, erst, in populous Budeum ruled,      But for a valiant kinsman of his own      Whom there he slew, had thence to Peleus fled      And to his silver-footed spouse divine,      Who with Achilles, phalanx-breaker Chief,      Sent him to fight beneath the walls of Troy.      Him seizing fast the body, with a stone      Illustrious Hector smote full on the front,      And his whole skull within the ponderous casque      Split sheer; he prostrate on the body fell      In shades of soul-divorcing death involved.      Patroclus, grieving for his slaughter'd friend,      Rush'd through the foremost warriors. As the hawk      Swift-wing'd before him starlings drives or daws,      So thou, Patroclus, of equestrian fame!      Full on the Lycian ranks and Trojan drov'st,      Resentful of thy fellow-warrior's fall.      At Sthenelas a huge stone he cast,      Son of Ithmenes, whom on the neck      He smote and burst the tendons; then the van      Of Ilium's host, with Hector, all retired.      Far as the slender javelin cuts the air      Hurl'd with collected force, or in the games,      Or even in battle at a desperate foe,      So far the Greeks repulsed the host of Troy.      Then Glaucus first, Chief of the shielded bands      Of Lycia, slew Bathycles, valiant son      Of Calchon; Hellas was his home, and far      He pass'd in riches all the Myrmidons.      Him chasing Glaucus whom he now attain'd,      The Lycian, turning sudden, with his lance      Pierced through the breast, and, sounding, down he fell      Grief fill'd Achaia's sons for such a Chief      So slain, but joy the Trojans; thick they throng'd      The conqueror around, nor yet the Greeks      Forgat their force, but resolute advanced.      Then, by Meriones a Trojan died      Of noble rank, Laogonus, the son      Undaunted of Onetor great in Troy,      Priest of Idan Jove. The ear and jaw      Between, he pierced him with a mortal force;      Swift flew the life, and darkness veil'd his eyes.      neas, in return, his brazen spear      Hurl'd at Meriones with ardent hope      To pierce him, while, with nimble[18] steps and short      Behind his buckler made, he paced the field;      But, warn'd of its approach, Meriones      Bow'd low his head, shunning it, and the spear      Behind him pierced the soil; there quivering stood      The weapon, vain, though from a vigorous arm,      Till spent by slow degrees its fury slept.      * * * * *      * * * * *[19]      Indignant then neas thus exclaim'd.      Meriones! I sent thee such a spear      As reaching thee, should have for ever marr'd      Thy step, accomplish'd dancer as thou art.      To whom Meriones spear-famed replied.      neas! thou wilt find the labor hard      How great soe'er thy might, to quell the force      Of all opposers. Thou art also doom'd      Thyself to die; and may but spear of mine      Well-aim'd once strike thee full, what strength soe'er      Or magnanimity be thine to boast,      Thy glory in that moment thou resign'st      To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown'd.      He said, but him Patroclus sharp reproved.      Why speaks Meriones, although in fight      Approved, thus proudly? Nay, my gallant friend!      The Trojans will not for reproach of ours      Renounce the body. Blood must first be spilt.      Tongues in debate, but hands in war decide;      Deeds therefore now, not wordy vaunts, we need.      So saying he led the way, whom follow'd close      Godlike Meriones. As from the depth      Of some lone wood that clothes the mountain's side      The fellers at their toil are heard remote,      So, from the face of Ilium's ample plain      Reverberated, was the din of brass      And of tough targets heard by falchions huge      Hard-smitten, and by spears of double-edge.      None then, no, not the quickest to discern,      Had known divine Sarpedon, from his head      To his foot-sole with mingled blood and dust      Polluted, and o'erwhelm'd with weapons. They      Around the body swarm'd. As hovel-flies      In spring-time buzz around the brimming pails      With milk bedew'd, so they around the dead.      Nor Jove averted once his glorious eyes      From that dread contest, but with watchful note      Marked all, the future death in battle deep      Pondering of Patroclus, whether him      Hector should even now slay on divine      Sarpedon, and despoil him of his arms,      Or he should still that arduous strife prolong.      This counsel gain'd as eligible most      At length his preference: that the valiant friend      Of Peleus' son should yet again compel      The Trojan host with Hector brazen-mail'd      To Ilium, slaughtering numerous by the way.      First then, with fears unmanly he possess'd      The heart of Hector; mounting to his seat      He turn'd to flight himself, and bade his host      Fly also; for he knew Jove's purpose[20] changed.      Thenceforth, no longer even Lycia's host      Endured, but all fled scatter'd, seeing pierced      Their sovereign through his heart, and heap'd with dead;      For numerous, while Saturnian Jove the fight      Held in suspense, had on his body fallen.      At once the Grecians of his dazzling arms      Despoil'd Sarpedon, which the Myrmidons      By order of Menoetius' valiant son      Bore thence into the fleet. Meantime his will      The Thunderer to Apollo thus express'd.      Phoebus, my son, delay not; from beneath      Yon hill of weapons drawn cleanse from his blood      Sarpedon's corse; then, bearing him remote,      Lave him in waters of the running stream,      With oils divine anoint, and in attire      Immortal clothe him. Last, to Death and Sleep,      Swift bearers both, twin-born, deliver him;      For hence to Lycia's opulent abodes      They shall transport him quickly, where, with rites      Funereal, his next kindred and his friends      Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb      (The dead man's portion) rearing to his name.      He ceased; nor was Apollo slow to hear      His father's will, but, from the Idan heights      Descending swift into the dreadful field,      Godlike Sarpedon's body from beneath      The hill of weapons drew, which, borne remote,      He laved in waters of the running stream,      With oils ambrosial bathed, and clothed in robes      Immortal. Then to Death and gentle Sleep,      Swift-bearers both, twin-born, he gave the charge,      Who placed it soon in Lycia's wealthy realm.      Meantime Patroclus, calling to his steeds,      And to Automedon, the Trojans chased      And Lycians, on his own destruction bent      Infatuate; heedless of his charge received      From Peleus' son, which, well perform'd, had saved      The hero from his miserable doom.      But Jove's high purpose evermore prevails      Against the thoughts of man; he turns to flight      The bravest, and the victory takes with ease      E'en from the Chief whom he impels himself      To battle, as he now this Chief impell'd.      Who, then, Patroclus! first, who last by thee      Fell slain, what time thyself was call'd to die?      Adrastus first, then Perimus he slew,      Offspring of Megas, then Autonos,      Echechlus, Melanippus, and Epistor,      Pylartes, Mulius, Elasus. All these      He slew, and from the field chased all beside.      Then, doubtless, had Achaia's sons prevail'd      To take proud-gated Troy, such havoc made      He with his spear, but that the son of Jove      Apollo, on a tower's conspicuous height      Station'd, devoted him for Ilium's sake.      Thrice on a buttress of the lofty wall      Patroclus mounted, and him thrice the God      With hands immortal his resplendent shield      Smiting, struck down again; but when he rush'd      A fourth time, demon-like, to the assault,      The King of radiant shafts him, stern, rebuked.      Patroclus, warrior of renown, retire!      The fates ordain not that imperial Troy      Stoop to thy spear, nor to the spear itself      Of Peleus' son, though mightier far than thou.      He said, and Menoetiades the wrath      Of shaft-arm'd Phoebus shunning, far retired.      But in the Scan gate Hector his steeds      Detain'd, uncertain whether thence to drive      Amid the warring multitude again,      Or, loud commandment issuing, to collect      His host within the walls. Him musing long      Apollo, clad in semblance of a Chief      Youthful and valiant, join'd. Asius he seem'd      Equestrian Hector's uncle, brother born      Of Hecuba the queen, and Dymas' son,      Who on the Sangar's banks in Phrygia dwelt.      Apollo, so disguised, him thus bespake.      Why, Hector, hast thou left the fight? this sloth      Not well befits thee. Oh that I as far      Thee pass'd in force as thou transcendest me,      Then, not unpunish'd long, should'st thou retire;      But haste, and with thy coursers solid-hoof'd      Seek out Patroclus, him perchance to slay,      Should Phoebus have decreed that glory thine.      So saying, Apollo join'd the host again.      Then noble Hector bade his charioteer      Valiant Cebriones his coursers lash      Back into battle, while the God himself      Entering the multitude confounded sore      The Argives, victory conferring proud      And glory on Hector and the host of Troy.      But Hector, leaving all beside unslain,      Furious impell'd his coursers solid-hoof'd      Against Patroclus; on the other side      Patroclus from his chariot to the ground      Leap'd ardent; in his left a spear he bore,      And in his right a marble fragment rough,      Large as his grasp. With full collected might      He hurl'd it; neither was the weapon slow      To whom he had mark'd, or sent in vain.      He smote the charioteer of Hector, bold      Cebriones, King Priam's spurious son,      Full on the forehead, while he sway'd the reins.      The bone that force withstood not, but the rock      With ragged points beset dash'd both his brows      In pieces, and his eyes fell at his feet.      He diver-like, from his exalted stand      Behind the steeds pitch'd headlong, and expired;      O'er whom, Patroclus of equestrian fame!      Thou didst exult with taunting speech severe.      Ye Gods, with what agility he dives!      Ah! it were well if in the fishy deep      This man were occupied; he might no few      With oysters satisfy, although the waves      Were churlish, plunging headlong from his bark      As easily as from his chariot here.      So then--in Troy, it seems, are divers too!      So saying, on bold Cebriones he sprang      With all a lion's force, who, while the folds      He ravages, is wounded in the breast,      And, victim of his own fierce courage, dies.      So didst thou spring, Patroclus! to despoil      Cebriones, and Hector opposite      Leap'd also to the ground. Then contest such      For dead Cebriones those two between      Arose, as in the lofty mountain-tops      Two lions wage, contending for a deer      New-slain, both hunger-pinch'd and haughty both.      So for Cebriones, alike in arms      Expert, brave Hector and Patroclus strove      To pierce each other with the ruthless spear.      First, Hector seized his head, nor loosed his hold,      Patroclus, next, his feet, while all beside      Of either host in furious battle join'd.      As when the East wind and the South contend      To shake some deep wood on the mountain's side,      Or beech, or ash, or rugged cornel old.      With stormy violence the mingled boughs      Smite and snap short each other, crashing loud;      So, Trojans and Achaians, mingling, slew      Mutual, while neither felt a wish to fly.      Around Cebriones stood many a spear,      And many a shaft sent smartly from the nerve      Implanted deep, and many a stone of grasp      Enormous sounded on their batter'd shields      Who fought to gain him. He, in eddies lost      Of sable dust, with his huge trunk huge space      O'erspread, nor steeds nor chariots heeded more.      While yet the sun ascending climb'd the heavens,      Their darts flew equal, and the people fell;      But when he westward journey'd, by a change      Surpassing hope the Grecians then prevail'd.      They drew Cebriones the hero forth      From all those weapons, and his armor stripp'd      At leisure, distant from the battle's roar.      Then sprang Patroclus on the Trojan host;      Thrice, like another Mars, he sprang with shouts      Tremendous, and nine warriors thrice he slew.      But when the fourth time, demon-like, he rush'd      Against them, then, oh then, too manifest      The consummation of thy days approach'd      Patroclus! whom Apollo, terror-clad      Met then in battle. He the coming God      Through all that multitude knew not, such gloom      Impenetrable him involved around.      Behind him close he stood, and with his palms      Expanded on the spine and shoulders broad      Smote him; his eyes swam dizzy at the stroke.      Then Phoebus from his head his helmet dash'd      To earth; sonorous at the feet it roll'd      Of many a prancing steed, and all the crest      Defilement gather'd gross of dust and blood,      Then first; till then, impossible; for how      Should dust the tresses of that helmet shame      With which Achilles fighting fenced his head      Illustrious, and his graceful brows divine?      But Jove now made it Hector's; he awhile      Bore it, himself to swift perdition doom'd      His spear brass-mounted, ponderous, huge and long,      Fell shiver'd from his grasp. His shield that swept      His ancle, with its belt dropp'd from his arm,      And Phoebus loosed the corselet from his breast.      Confusion seized his brain; his noble limbs      Quaked under him, and panic-stunn'd he stood.      Then came a Dardan Chief, who from behind      Enforced a pointed lance into his back      Between the shoulders; Panthus' son was he,      Euphorbus, famous for equestrian skill,      For spearmanship, and in the rapid race      Past all of equal age. He twenty men      (Although a learner yet of martial feats,      And by his steeds then first to battle borne)      Dismounted. He, Patroclus, mighty Chief!      First threw a lance at thee, which yet life      Quell'd not; then snatching hasty from the wound      His ashen beam, he ran into the crowd,      Nor dared confront in fight even the unarm'd      Patroclus. But Patroclus, by the lance,      And by the stroke of an immortal hand      Subdued, fell back toward his ranks again.      Then, soon as Hector the retreat perceived      Of brave Patroclus wounded, issuing forth      From his own phalanx, he approach'd and drove      A spear right through his body at the waist.      Sounding he fell. Loud groan'd Achaia's host.      As when the lion and the sturdy boar      Contend in battle on the mountain-tops      For some scant rivulet, thirst-parch'd alike,      Ere long the lion quells the panting boar;      So Priameian Hector, spear in hand,      Slew Menoetiades the valiant slayer      Of multitudes, and thus in accents wing'd,      With fierce delight exulted in his fall.      It was thy thought, Patroclus, to have laid      Our city waste, and to have wafted hence      Our wives and daughters to thy native land,      Their day of liberty for ever set.      Fool! for their sakes the feet of Hector's steeds      Fly into battle, and myself excel,      For their sakes, all our bravest of the spear,      That I may turn from them that evil hour      Necessitous. But thou art vulture's food,      Unhappy youth! all valiant as he is,      Achilles hath no succor given to thee,      Who when he sent the forth whither himself      Would not, thus doubtless gave thee oft in charge:      Ah, well beware, Patroclus, glorious Chief!      That thou revisit not these ships again,      Till first on hero-slaughterer Hector's breast      Thou cleave his bloody corselet. So he spake,      And with vain words thee credulous beguiled.      To whom Patroclus, mighty Chief, with breath      Drawn faintly, and dying, thou didst thus reply.      Now, Hector, boast! now glory! for the son      Of Saturn and Apollo, me with ease      Vanquishing, whom they had themselves disarm'd,      Have made the victory thine; else, twenty such      As thou, had fallen by my victorious spear.      Me Phoebus and my ruthless fate combined      To slay; these foremost; but of mortal men      Euphorbus, and thy praise is only third.      I tell thee also, and within thy heart      Repose it deep--thou shalt not long survive;      But, even now, fate, and a violent death      Attend thee by Achilles' hands ordain'd      To perish, by acides the brave.[21]      So saying, the shades of death him wrapp'd around.      Down into Ades from his limbs dismiss'd,      His spirit fled sorrowful, of youth's prime      And vigorous manhood suddenly bereft      Then, him though dead, Hector again bespake.      Patroclus! these prophetic strains of death      At hand, and fate, why hast thou sung to me?      May not the son of Thetis azure-hair'd,      Achilles, perish first by spear of mine?      He said; then pressing with his heel the trunk      Supine, and backward thursting it, he drew      His glittering weapon from the wound, nor stay'd,      But lance in hand, the godlike charioteer      Pursued of swift acides, on fire      To smite Automedon; but him the steeds      Immortal, rapid, by the Gods conferr'd      (A glorious gift) on Peleus, snatch'd away.