Book XX

SO there by the beakéd galleys in harness of battle were dight
The Achaians around thee, Peleus’ son, insatiate of fight;
And the Trojans overagainst them were ranged on the plain’s mid height.
And Zeus bade Themis summon the Gods to the council-stead
On the crest of ribbed Olympus; and everywhither she sped
Bidding them hie them up unto Zeus’s palace-hall.
There was never a River, save Ocean alone, but heeded the call;
There was none of the Nymphs, the haunters of copses lovely and lone,
And of fountains of rivers, and water-meadows grass-overgrown.
So up to the palace of Zeus the Herder of Clouds are they gone.
And they sat them down where stretched colonnade upon bright colonnade
Which Hephaistus with cunning heart for Zeus Allfather had made.
So thronged they the mansion of Zeus: and the Earthshaker, Lord of the Seas,
Disobeyed not the Goddess, but came from his halls of brine unto these;
And he sat in the midst, and he asked of the purpose of Zeus, and he said:
“Why, Lightning-lord, hast thou summoned the Gods to the council-stead?
Concerning Achaians and Trojans in any wise ponderest thou?
For exceeding nigh is the flame of their war and their battle now.”
And Zeus the Cloudrack-gatherer answer to him addressed:
“Thou knowest, O Shaker of Earth, what purpose is in my breast,
For whose sake I have summoned you: even in death are they dear in my sight.
Yet verily I will abide on a fold of Olympus’ height
Sitting: therefrom will I gaze, and my soul will I gladden; but ye
Go forth till ye reach the Achaians and Troy’s war-company,
And to these and to those give help, as to each of you seemeth right.
For if now Achilles alone against yon Trojans shall fight,
To stay Peleides the swift shall they never so little avail:
Yea, when they saw him aforetime, ever they wont to quail:
But now, when his wrath for his friend is exceeding grim and great,
I fear lest he storm the wall, yea, even o’erleaping his fate.”
So spake he, the Son of Kronos, and truceless strife was born;
And the Gods went forth to the war, and heart from heart was torn.
To the host of the galleys Héré and Pallas Athéné pressed,
And Poseidon the Girder of Earth, and the Helper of men distressed,
Hermes, of piercing wit, of the subtlety far-renowned
And with these Hephaistus exulting in pride of his strength was found,
Halting, yet swiftly beneath him moved each slender limb.
To the Trojans went Arés the stormy-crested, and ranged with him
Artemis arrow-triumphant, and Phoebus the unshorn-haired,
And Xanthus, and Léto, and Laughter-queen Aphrodité fared.
While yet from the children of men the high Gods tarried afar,
Triumphed Achaia’s sons, for Achilles at last unto war
Had appeared, though long had he lingered aloof from the bitter fray:
But the knees of every Trojan were bowed with sore dismay;
For they looked on the son of Peleus with hearts that failed them for fear,
As he flamed in his harness of battle, Destroyer Arés’ peer.
But when the Olympian Gods came down mid the warrior-rout,
Rose Strife the enkindler of hosts, and Athéné uttered her shout,
Standing now by the deep-delved trench without the wall,
And anon far over the hoarse-resounding beach did she call.
And Arés against her, black as the night of the tempest, cried,
Now yelling from topmost Troy to the Trojans far and wide,
Now rushing o’er Kallikoléné by swirling Simois’ side.
So did the blessed Immortals uprousing these and those
Join battle, and so into dread strife burst the Gods made foes.
And the Father of Gods and Men with soul-appalling sound
Thundered on high, and beneath Poseidon shook the ground,
Even the boundless earth, and the soaring crests of the hills.
Shook all the spurs of Ida, the ridge of the thousand rills,
And her peaks, and the Trojans’ town, and Achaia’s ships wave-swayed.
And Hades quaked from beneath, the King of the nethermost shade;
And he sprang from his throne, and he cried aloud in the dread of his heart
Lest o’er him Earth-shaker Poseidon should cleave the ground apart,
And revealed to Immortals and mortals should stand those awful abodes,
Those mansions ghastly and grim, abhorred of the very Gods,
So great was the thunder-crash as the Gods in battle met.
And face to face against Poseidon the King was set
Phoebus Apollo, straining his feathered arrows keen;
And against Enyalius Pallas Athéné, the grey-eyed Queen;
Against Héré the Maid of the Golden Shaft, of the shout ringing far,
Far-smiter’s sister the Arrow-triumphant, uprose unto war;
And Hermes the mighty Helper ranged against Léto stood;
And against Hephaistus the River, the great deep-swirling flood
Of the Gods named Xanthus, Skamander of them of earth-born blood.
So Gods against Gods went forth to the war: but Achilles aye
Yearned chiefly to meet the son of Priam amidst of the fray,
Hector; for fiercely his heart bade glut with the life-blood of him
Arés the stubborn-shielded, the warrior murder-grim.
But Apollo the battle-kindler spurred Aeneas to fight
With Peleus’ son, and straightway filled him with valorous might:
And the voice of Lykaon, the child of Priam the King, did he take;
In the likeness of him Apollo the Zeus-begotten spake:
“O Trojan counsellor-chief, where now those threats of thine,
And thy pledge to the princes of Troy, when ye tarried long at the wine,
That facing Achilles Peleus’ son thou wouldst stand in the fray?”
Then unto him made answer Aeneas, and thus did he say:
“What meanest thou, O thou child of Priam, thus to command
That I, when I would not, against Peleides the haughty should stand?
Not now for the first should I look Achilles the fleet in the face.
Nay, me in the days overpast with the spear did he hold in chase
From Ida, what time he had come to drive our cattle away,
And Lyrnessus and Pedasus smote; but Zeus redeemed that day
My life, for with strength he enkindled me, lightsome my knees he made,
Else low by Achilles’ hands and Athéné had I been laid:
For a light of deliverance before him she set, and commanded him still
With his brazen lance the Lelegan lives and Trojan to spill.
Wherefore can no man strive with Achilles in battle-strain,
For that ever beside him there goeth a God to defend him from bane.
Yea, and his lance without this flieth straight, and it doth not refrain
Till it plunge through the flesh of a man. But and if some God by his power
Would strain the issue of war but level, not me in that hour
Should he lightly o’ercome, though fashioned wholly of brass he should be.”
Answered Apollo the King Zeus-born, and thus spake he:
“Nay, hero, but unto the Gods everlasting do thou too pray,
Thou also of Aphrodité the Daughter of Zeus, men say,
Wert born, but he of a Goddess in majesty lesser than she
Who is Daughter of Zeus, but she of the Ancient of the Sea.
Have at him with stubborn brass, and in no wise let the blast
Of the breath of his terrible words and his threats back turn thee aghast.”
Then into the shepherd of folk the God breathed valorous might,
And he rushed to the forefront of battle arrayed in brass flame-bright.
But the son of Anchises escaped not white-armed Héré’s ken
As to meet the son of Peleus he fared through the press of men;
But she gathered the Gods together, and stayed them, and uttered her rede:
“Bethink you, Poseidon now, and Athéné, and give ye heed
In your hearts touching this, in what fashion the issue hereof shall speed.
Yonder Aeneas arrayed in flame-bright brass is gone
Against Peleus’ son, and Phoebus Apollo hath spurred him on.
But come, even thence let us turn him aback, that he waste not his life:
Or let one of us go at the least and stand by Achilles in strife,
And give to him strength exceeding great; let the heart in his breast
Not in any wise faint or fail, to the end he may know that the best
Of the Deathless love him, and vain as the wind is the help of those
Which have shielded in battle and strife ere this his Trojan foes.
All we from Olympus have come to bear our part in the fray,
To the end he may get no hurt mid the Trojan men this day;
But hereafter all those things shall he suffer which erst were spun
By the Fates with the threads of his birth when his mother bare a son.
But if this from the voice of the Gods Achilles shall not hear,
Then, when to meet him in battle a God shall come, he shall fear.
Hard is it for Gods to be looked on of men, what time they appear.”
But answer to her did Poseidon the Shaker of Earth return:
“Nay, Héré, no need that thine anger beyond thy wisdom should burn.
I would not, I, that the Gods should clash in contention and jar,
Even we that are not as they—sooth, we be the mightier far.
Now nay, but turn we aside from the way to a height, and there
Let us sit us down, and for war let earth-born mortals care.
But if Arés or Phoebus Apollo shall make beginning of fight,
Or shall stay Achilles’ hand and palsy his battle-might,
Straightway for us too then shall the fire of contention glow
Beside them: full quickly shall these give back from our onset, I trow!
To Olympus, where gather the rest of the Gods, shall they get them again
Overborne by the might of our hands, and by strong Necessity’s strain.”
So did he speak, and the Raven-haired led on before
To the mound of the rampart for godlike Hérakles builded of yore,
High-reared, which the Trojans and Pallas Athéné wrought to heap,
That thereto he might flee for a covert from that huge beast of the deep,
Whensoe’er from the strand to the plain the monster against him should dart.
Thereon with Poseidon the rest of the Gods sat down apart;
And they compassed their shoulders with cloud, with a veil that might nowise be rent.
And to seat them on Kallikoléné’s brow Troy’s helpers went
Round Archer Phoebus and Arés the waster of tower and town.
So sundered in heart and in counsel the rest of the Gods sat down;
But from making beginning of war that in anguish layeth low
Shrank both, though Zeus enthronéd on high had commanded so.
But with warriors thronged was the plain, and lightened with brass all round
From the men and the horses, and under their feet rang loud the ground,
As they rushed to the onset; and twain, most mighty above the rest,
Eager to grapple in fight forth into the midspace pressed,
Aeneas, Anchises’ son, and Achilles like to a God.
And Aeneas the foremost with threat and defiance forward strode,
While nodded his massy helmet: the shield of his fury he flung
In front of his breast, and his quivering lance on high he swung,
And overagainst him Peleides onward rushed to the strife,
As a ravening lion when men be furious-fain for his life,
As they gather, a whole tribe: he at the first recking naught of them all
On-paceth, until with a lance some young man stalwart and tall
Smite him: he croucheth with grinning jaws, and the foam-flakes start
Round his fangs, and within his breast fierce groaneth his mighty heart,
And the tail of him scourgeth his ribs and his flanks to left and to right,
And he lasheth himself into frenzy, and spurreth him on to the fight,
And glaring he rusheth in fury full on his foes, till he slay
A man, or shall perish himself in the clash of the forest-fray:
So Achilles was spurred of his fury and spirit dauntless-bold
To rush to the grapple of fight with Aeneas the mighty-souled.
But when, as they charged on each other, by this they were drawn full nigh,
Then first to his foe did godlike Achilles the fleetfoot cry:
“Aeneas, now wherefore afront of the rout so far dost thou press?
What, hath thy spirit constrained thee to meet me in battle-stress
With the hope to be lord of the honour of Priam, the sceptred sway
Over the horse-quelling Trojans?—but though thou shouldst slay me to-day
Yet Priam shall give to thine hand for this no guerdon-crown:
Sons hath he, nor yet overworn is his wit, nor his strength bowed down.
Or what, have the Trojans carved thee a passing-fair domain
For thy tilling, lovely with orchard and fields of golden grain
If thou slay me?—I trow the deed shall be all too hard for thee.
What, man, I tell thee, ere now by my spear have I caused thee to flee!
And hast thou forgotten the day when I found thee alone, and chased
From the kine down the ridges of Ida, when swiftly the feet of thee raced
For thy life?—In that hour didst thou nowise turn thee, behind thee to look.
Thence to Lyrnessus thou fleddest; but that thy fortress I took,
For with help of Athéné and Father Zeus did I storm it and smite,
And captive the women I led, bereft of freedom’s light.
But thy life from destruction did Zeus and the rest of the Gods redeem:
Yet they shall not deliver thee now, I trow, as thine heart doth dream.
Nay, but while yet thou mayest, I bid thee give back, and go
Into the throng of thy friends, neither stand against me for a foe,
Ere thou light upon mischief:—the deed done even the fool may know.”
But undismayed Aeneas made answer to him, and spake:
“Peleides, look not thou with thy words to cause me to quake,
As though I were naught but a babe. Good sooth, but myself could vaunt
With mocking lips, an I would, and babble the malapert taunt.
We know of each other’s lineage and them that gave us birth;
We have heard the tale of renown, and the praise of the children of earth:
But on mine with thine eyes hast thou looked never yet, neither I upon thine.
They name thee begotten of Peleus, a hero of princely line;
And thy mother was bright-haired Thetis, the Lady of the Sea:
But Anchises the mighty-hearted was he that fathered me;
And I of the womb of Aphrodité the Goddess was born.
Now verily these or those for a dear-loved son shall mourn
This day; for I tell thee, not with the babbling words and vain
Of children, so shall we part, and return from the fight, we twain.
But and if thou wouldst hear this too, to the end thou mayst know it well,
My lineage—sooth, full many a man thereof could tell:—
Dardanus first did Zeus the Herder of Clouds beget,
And he built him Dardania, seeing that Ilium the holy as yet
In the plain was all unpeopled, a city of earth-born men,
But on slopes of Ida the fountain-flashing dwelt they then.
And there sprang from Dardanus’ loins Erichthonius the king, and the same
Of all men mortal-born most mighty in wealth became.
Three thousand steeds in the watered meadow were pastured for him,
Mares, and beside them ran young foals of dainty limb.
Yea, the North-wind saw as they pastured, his soul was stricken afire,
And he fashioned him like to a dark-maned stallion to work his desire.
And the mares thereafter conceived, and fillies twelve bare they:
And whenso they skipped o’er the corn-giving earth in their frolic play,
They brake not the tops of the ears of the corn as thereover they tripped:
But whenso over the sea’s broad-heaving ridges they skipped,
Lightly they skimmed the crests of the hoary brine foam-tipped.
Erichthonius begat king Tros, who ruled in great Troy-town;
And of Tros were begotten three, which were princes, men of renown,
Assarakus, Ilus withal, Ganymédes like to a God,
For the goodliest man was he of all on the earth that trod:
‘And because of his goodlihead did the high Gods snatch him away
To pour unto Zeus the wine, and to dwell with Immortals for aye.
And Ilus begat a son, Laomedon stately and tall;
And Tithonus sprang from Laomedon’s loins, and Priam withal,
And Lampus, and Klytius, and Arés’ child Hiketaon the grim.
Of Assarakus Kapys sprang, and Anchises was born unto him,
And I of Anchises, but Hector the godlike of Priam came.
Lo, this is my lineage and blood, and the boast of a glorious name.
But for valour, ’tis Zeus that maketh it wax upon men and wane,
Even as seemeth him good, for in might over all doth he reign.
Go to, let us talk not thus any more, as babbleth a child,
Standing at gaze, while around us the tempest of war bloweth wild:
For to utter revilings for thee and for me full easy it were:
Yea, not a ship of a hundred thwarts might the load of them bear.
For glib is the tongue of man, it hath many and manifold words;
This way and that way they range, as the aimless-pasturing herds;
And whatso manner of word thou hast spoken, the same shalt thou hear.
But wherefore should thou and I with the bitter flout and the jeer
Rail in each other’s faces, as women be wont to do
When in heart-consuming contention their fury hath thrilled them through,
And they go forth straightway and rail on each other amidst of the street
With false and true words many, as biddeth their passion’s heat.
But with words shalt thou nowise turn me away in my fury from fight
Till man against man we have fought with the brass. Come then, forthright
With the brazen-headed spears let us taste each other’s might.”
He spake, and his brazen spear at the terrible buckler sprang,
At the awful targe; and the shield round the lance-point loudly rang.
Then afar from his body Peleides outstretched his buckler in fear
With his brawny hand; for he deemed in his heart that the long-shadowed spear
Of Aeneas the mighty-hearted therethrough might lightly win.
Ah fool, for he thought not on this his soul and his spirit within,
That not unto perishing men is it anywise lightly given
Backward to bear or to vanquish the glorious gifts of heaven.
Nor then did the furious lance of Aeneas the warrior-souled
Burst through the shield: it was stayed by the God’s gift, even the gold.
Howbeit it pierced two plates, but there yet remained the three,
Forasmuch as five had been forged by the Lame God’s mastery,
Whereof there were two of brass, and the inmost two of tin,
And the ashen spear was stayed by the gold that lay between.
Then hurled Achilles his lance long-shafted across the field,
And it smote on the shapely-moulded round of Aeneas’ shield
Within the edge of the rim, where thinnest the compassing brass
Ran round, and thinnest the bull-hide lay: clear through did it pass,
That Pelian ash, and clanged the buckler beneath the blow.
Low crouched Aeneas, and up from his body his shield did he throw
In fear, and over his back down into the earth plunged deep
The thirsty spear: through both of the rounded plates did it leap
Of the warrior-warding shield: unscathed by the lance he stood,
But over the eyes of him measureless horror poured as a flood,
Aghast that the javelin had smitten so near: but with furious hand
Achilles unsheathed, as he rushed on the Trojan, his keen-whetted brand
With a terrible shout; but a crag hath the hand of Aeneas found,
A huge rock-shard, which not two men should upheave from the ground,
Such men as be now; yet lightly he swung it on high alone.
Then had Aeneas in mid rush smitten his foe with the stone
On helmet or shield, which warded Achilles from bitter death,
And Peleides had closed with him then, and his sword had bereft him of breath;
But with swift keen glance Poseidon espied it, the Earth-shaking Lord;
And straightway he spake in the midst of the deathless Gods the word:
“Lo now, for Aeneas the mighty-souled have I anguish of heart,
Who with speed overcome by Achilles shall down unto Hades depart,
For he heeded the Smiter from Far, and hearkened Apollo’s rede,—
Ah fool! from destruction he shall not redeem him in bitter need!
Yet wherefore should he who is guiltless to-day be afflicted sore
Without cause, that the guilty may suffer not woes, though his gifts evermore
Were welcome and sweet to the Gods in the broad-arched heaven which abide?
Nay come, let us, even us, his head from destruction hide,
Lest the wrath of Kronion be kindled, if this man haply should fall
Slain by Achilles. His weird is safely to win through all,
Lest haply a royal seed perish, and leave on the earth no trace
Of Dardanus, dearest to Kronos’ Son of the earth-born race,
Both men and women, that sprang from the loins of the Thunder-lord.
For now hath the House of Priam of Kronos’ Son been abhorred;
But a sceptre over the Trojans the might of Aeneas shall sway,
Yea, and his children’s children, the men of an unborn day.”
Made answer to him Queen Héré the Lovely-eyed, and she spake:
Take thought in thine own soul, Shaker of Earth, for Aeneas’ sake,
Whether to rescue from death, or to leave him there alone
To be slain, how valiant soe’er, by Achilles Peleus’ son.
For verily oaths we twain have sworn, yea, many an one,
Athéné and I, before all the Gods that endure for aye,
That we never will shield any child of Troy from the evil day,
No, not when all Troy burneth consumed in the ravening flame,
And the warrior sons of Achaia are they that kindle the same.”
When Poseidon the Shaker of Earth heard this that she spake in his ears,
He hied him away through the fight and the clash of the meeting spears,
And he came where Aeneas stood, and Achilles the glorious lord.
Eftsoons o’er the eyes of Achilles Peleus’ son he poured
A mist and a sudden darkness: the ashen shaft brass-shod
From the shield of the mighty-hearted Aeneas drew the God.
And in front of the feet of Achilles the lance on the earth did he lay;
But he lifted Aeneas on high from the earth, and he bore him away.
Over many a rank of heroes, o’er many a battle-car,
Soared in the hand of the God Aeneas bounding afar,
Until at the uttermost part of the rushing battle he stayed,
At the place wherein the Kaukonian men for the war were arrayed.
And lo, the Shaker of Earth Poseidon stood by his side;
And he lifted his voice unto him, and with light-winged words he cried:
“What God’s command, Aeneas, hath made thee senseless bold
Man against man to fight with Peleides the dauntless-souled,
Who is mightier than thou, and dearer withal to the Gods, I wis?
But get thee back, whensoever thou lightest on him after this,
Lest even beyond thy weird thou pass unto Hades’ hall.
But whensoever the death and the doom on Achilles shall fall,
Then take thou courage and fight in the foremost ranks of the fray,
For thee none other of all the Achaian host shall slay.”
So spake he, and left him there, when all the warning was said:
And straightway the magic mist o’er the eyes of Achilles shed
He scattered apart: and lo, the hero with wide eyes gazed,
And he spake to his mighty-hearted spirit sore amazed:
“Ha, but a marvel of marvels is this that I see with mine eyes!
Here lieth my lance on the earth, but I see not in any wise
The man upon whom with intent to slay him I hurled that spear.
Of a surety Aeneas too to the deathless Gods is dear;
Yet I deemed that his boast thereof was idle vaunt and vain!
Away with him then! Small heart shall he have to prove me again,
Seeing that even to-day he hath ’scaped from the death full fain.
But the battle-revelling Danaan men will I cheer to the fight,
And the rest of my Trojan foes will I meet, and make proof of their might.”
Then cried he to every man, swift-leaping the ranks before:
“Now shrink ye aback from the Trojans, O godlike Achaians, no more,
But man against man go forth, and keen for the battle be ye.
What though I be never so stalwart, hard were the task for me
To fall on so countless a host, and to battle with every one.
Not of deathless Arés’ self, nor Athéné, might this be done,
To plunge mid the jaws of so mighty a strife, and to toil therein.
But for me, unto whatsoever by hands and by feet I may win,
And by strength, shall no slackness in me, be it never so little, be seen,
But clear through their ranks will I burst: no man of the Trojans, I ween,
Shall rejoice, who shall draw near me, who shall try if my spear be keen.”
So spake he, cheering them on: but Hector the glorious cried
With shouts on the Trojan men, and Achilles’ self he defied:
“High-hearted Trojans, from Peleus’ son do ye nowise quail!
I too with the very Immortals would fight, if but words might avail,
But hard were the task with the spear, for our might do they far exceed.
Nay, not even Achilles shall bring each word to the deed,
But in part shall accomplish his vaunt, and in part cut short his desire.
Lo, I will go forth to meet him, yea, though his hands be as fire,
Yea, though as fire be his hands, though as steel be the edge of his ire.”
So cried he, cheering them on, and the Trojans against their foes
Uplifted their spears, and their fury was mingled, the battle-cry rose.
But to Hector’s side came Phoebus Apollo, and thus did he say:
“Hector, beware that thou challenge Achilles not to the fray;
But thou mid the throng, and begirt by the tumult, his onslaught stand,
Lest he smite thee with cast of the spear, or with sweep of the battle-brand.”
He spake; back into the press of the fighters Hector strode,
Awe-struck when fell on his ears the sound of the voice of a God.
Mid the Trojans Achilles leapt, his heart clad in might as a cloak,
With a terrible shout. To Iphition dealt he the first death-stroke,
The goodly son of Otryntes, a captain of many folk,
Whom the Maid of the Spring to Otryntes the city-waster bare
’Neath Tmolus the snowy, in Hydé the fertile land and fair.
But, as onward he charged, him godlike Achilles smote with the spear
In the midst of the head, and all in twain was it cloven sheer.
Loud-crashing he fell, and Achilles shouted the triumph-jeer:
“Low liest thou, son of Otryntes, doughtiest of all men on earth!
Ha, here is thy death, but afar by Gygaié the mere was thy birth,
Even there where thy father’s possessions cover the fat land o’er
By Hyllus the fish-abounding and swirling Hermus’ shore.”
So vaunting he spake, and darkness swept o’er the eyes of the slain.
And the horses Achaian cut with the tires that wretch in twain
In the forefront of fight: then down on his body Demoleon he flung,
A battle-helper stout, of the loins of Antenor sprung;
For his temples, clean through the morion brazen-cheeked, did he pierce,
Neither stayed by the helmet of brass was the spear, but eager-fierce
Therethrough did the point burst, cleaving the bone, and all his brain
Was scattered within: so he slew him though never so battle-fain.
Thereafter Hippodamas, even as he sprang from his chariot in fear,
Fleeing before him, amidst of the back he smote with his spear.
And he gasped his spirit forth, and like to the bull he roared
That is dragged with bellowing loud to the altar of Heliké’s Lord,
As the young men drag—for in such doth the Earth-shaker take delight,—
Even so did he roar as the haughty soul from his bones took flight.
Then with his spear he pursued Polydorus, a godlike wight,
Offspring of Priam. The old king wholly forbade him the fight,
Forasmuch as amidst his brethren youngest of all was the lad,
And was dearest to him, and in fleetness of foot no peer he had.
Even then in his folly he rushed through the foremost ranks of the host,
Making display of his speed, till the precious life he lost.
Him fleetfoot Achilles the godlike smote with a dart mid-waist
In the back, as the lad rushed past, where the golden buckles braced
The baldric-band, and the corslet-plates overlapping lay.
Forth by the navel the point of the javelin flashed to the day,
And he fell on his knees with a shriek, and veiled him a black dark cloud,
And his bowels he clasped unto him with his hands as earthward he bowed.
But when Hector beheld Polydorus his brother cast on the field,
Holding his bowels in his hands as down to the earth he reeled,
His eyes in the mist of his horror swam, he endured no more
To range the battle aloof, but down on Achilles he bore
Shaking his keen lance, flamelike. Exultation-stirred
Leapt, as he saw it, Achilles, and cried the triumphant word:
“Ha, nigh me at last is the man who deepest hath stricken mine heart,
Who hath slain mine honoured companion! No more shall we cower apart,
Nor through highways of battle as dastards aback from each other shall start!”
Then spake he to Hector the godlike, and grim did the eyes of him glare:
“Draw nigh, that the sooner thy feet to the goal of destruction may fare!”
But Hector the stormy-crested answered him undismayed:
“Peleides, look not thou with thy words to make me afraid,
As though I were naught but a child: good sooth, but myself could vaunt
With mocking lips, an I would, and babble the malapert taunt.
I know that mighty thou art: far weaker than thou am I.
Yet verily all these things on the knees of the high Gods lie.
Peradventure, how weaker soe’er, I shall take thy life, even thine,
With a spear-cast; for keen heretofore hath been this lance of mine.”
He spake, and he swung up on high and he hurled that spear; but the breath
Of Athéné turned backward from glorious Achilles the lightning of death.:
Full lightly she blew, yet aback unto Hector the godlike it came,
And afront of his feet it fell. Then rushed with spirit aflame
Achilles full on his foe, mad eager to smite him and slay,
Shouting his terrible shout: but Apollo snatched him away
With the effortless strength of a God, and in deep mist shrouded him round.
Thrice did Achilles the godlike, the fleetfoot, onward bound
With his brazen spear, and thrice but the thickness of mist did he pierce.
But when for the fourth time he rushed like a God in his anger fierce,
Terribly shouting then with wingéd words did he cry:
“Ha, thou hast ’scaped from the death, thou dog!—but thy bane came nigh,
Full nigh thee! ’Tis Phoebus Apollo again hath saved thee, I trow.
Of a surety thou prayest him ere to the hurtling of lances thou go!
I will yet make an end of thee!—yea, we shall meet, and our strife shall be striven,
If with me too haply a helper be found of the Dwellers in Heaven.
Now will I set on the rest, whosoe’er to mine hands shall be given.”
He spake, and at Dryops amidst of the neck with his javelin he thrust:
Down fell he in front of his feet; but he left him to lie in the dust,
And Demuchus, son of Philétor, a warrior tall and brave,
He stayed, with a spear-cast piercing his knee; and with mighty glaive
Thereafter he thrust him through, and his life from his limbs hath he torn.
On Laogonus then, and on Dardanus, sons unto Bias born,
Rushed he, and both from the chariot down to the earth he dashed;
One smote he with cast of the spear, and one with his sword he slashed.
Then Tros the son of Alastor—the wretch at his knees grovelled low,
Clasping them round, if he haply would spare, and alive let him go,
‘Neither slay him, but have compassion on youth like his own, and forbear.
Ah fool!—for he knew not this, that no more would he hearken to prayer;
For a man was he nowise sweet of spirit nor kindly-souled,
But exceeding fierce. Yet around his knees his hands did he fold
All eager to make supplication,—down plunged through his liver the sword.
Forth slid from his body his liver: the dark blood down from it poured
Flooding his bosom, and over his eyes the death-mist flowed,
As fainted his spirit. Then with his spear unto Mulius he strode,
And stabbed ’neath the ear; and straightway the brazen point passed on
Through its fellow ear. Then smote he Echeklus, Agénor’s son,
On the midst of his head with the sword, that the hilt stood forth alone;
And the blade’s whole length grew warm in the blood, and the lurid gloom
Of death rushed over his eyes, and the overmastering doom.
Deukalion next did he smite; for where at the elbow-joint
The sinews meet, he drave with his lance’s brazen point
Clear through his arm. There stood he with heavy-drooping hand
With death in his sight. So Achilles lashed at his neck with the brand:
Far hurled he the head with the helmet: upshot through the backbone of him
The marrow, and stretched on the earth lay headless trunk and limb.
Then Peireus’ princely son the destroyer held in chase,
Rhigmus: the warrior had come from the fruitful land of Thrace.
In the midst with his javelin he smote him: the brass in his lung stood deep,
And he fell from his car: on his henchman Aréithoüs did he leap,
As flightward he wheeled the steeds; then thrust he the keen-whetted spear
Through his back, and he dashed him to earth, and the steeds plunged mad with fear
As rageth an awful fire on a mountain parched with drought,
Through its hollow glens, when the flames in the heart of the wood burst out,
And the wild winds buffet the blaze, and roll it far and wide;
With the spear like an angry God so rushed he on every side,
Pursuing and slaying the while; and with blood did the dark earth stream.
And as when one yoketh together his bulls, a broad-browed team,
In a fair-built threshing-floor to trample the barley white,
And fast from beneath the loud-lowers’ feet the chaff leapeth light;
So before great-heart Achilles the thunderfoot steeds of his car
Trampled the corpses and shields; and with blood was the axle-bar
All dashed from beneath, and blood on the rails of the chariot rained
Upsplashed from the crimson pools as the thundering hoofs on-strained,
Whirled wide from the madding tires. On, fierce for renown, he sped,
Peleides, and stained his invincible hands with the blood of the dead.