Complete Works of Homer, page 342
Achilles in the midst to charioteers
And buckler'd warriors issued his commands.
Fifty swift ships Achilles, dear to Jove,
Led to the coast of Troy; and rang'd in each
Fifty brave comrades mann'd the rowers' seats.
O'er these five chiefs, on whom he most relied,
He plac'd, himself the Sov'reign Lord of all.
One band Menestheus led, with glancing mail,
Son of Sperchius, Heav'n-descended stream;
Him Peleus' daughter, Polydora fair,
A mortal in a God's embrace compress'd,
To stout Sperchius bore; but, by repute,
To Boras, Perieres' son, who her
In public, and with ample dow'r, espous'd.
The brave Eudorus led the second band,
Whom Phylas' daughter, Polymele fair,
To Hermes bore; the maid he saw, and lov'd,
Amid the virgins, mingling in the dance
Of golden-shafted Dian, Huntress-Queen;
He to her chamber access found, and gain'd
By stealth her bed; a valiant son she bore,
Eudorus, swift of foot, in battle strong.
But when her infant, by Lucina's aid,
Was brought to light, and saw the face of day,
Her to his home, with ample dow'r enrich'd,
Echecles, son of Actor, bore away;
While him the aged Phylas kept, and nurs'd
With tender care, and cherish'd — as his own.
The brave Peisander, son of Maemalus,
The third commanded; of the Myrmidons,
Next to Pelides' friend, the noblest spear.
The fourth, the aged warrior Phoenix led;
The fifth, Alcimedon, Laerces' son:
These in their order due Achilles first
Array'd, and next with stirring words address'd:
"Ye Myrmidons, forget not now the vaunts
Which, while my wrath endur'd, ye largely pour'd
Upon the Trojans; me ye freely blam'd;
'Ill-omen'd son of Peleus, sure in wrath
Thou wast conceiv'd, implacable, who here
In idleness enforc'd thy comrades keep'st!
'Twere better far our homeward way to take,
If such pernicious rancour fill thy soul!'
Thus ye reproach'd me oft! Lo! now ye have
The great occasion which your souls desir'd!
Then on, and with brave hearts the Trojans meet!"
His words fresh courage rous'd in ev'ry breast,
And more compact, beneath their monarch's eye,
Their ranks were form'd; as when the builder lays
The closely-fitting stones, to form the wall
Of some great house, and brave the winds of Heav'n;
So close were fitted helm and bossy shield;
Buckler on buckler press'd, and helm on helm,
And man on man; the horsehair plumes above,
That nodded, fearful, from the warriors' brows,
Each other touch'd; so closely mass'd they stood.
Before them all stood prominent in arms
Two chiefs, Patroclus and Automedon,
Both with one thought possess'd, to lead the fight
In the fore-front of all the Myrmidons.
Achilles then within his tent withdrew,
And of a gorgeous coffer rais'd the lid,
Well-wrought, by silver-footed Thetis plac'd
On board his ship, and fill'd with rich attire,
With store of wind-proof cloaks, and carpets soft.
There lay a goblet, richly chas'd, whence none,
But he alone, might drink the ruddy wine,
Nor might libations thence to other Gods
Be made, save only Jove: this brought he forth,
And first with sulphur purified, and next
Wash'd with pure water; then his hands he wash'd,
And drew the ruddy wine; then standing forth
Made in the centre of the court his pray'r,
And as he pour'd the wine, look'd up to Heav'n,
Not unbeheld of Jove, the lightning's Lord:
"Great King, Dodona's Lord, Pelasgian Jove,
Who dwell'st on high, and rul'st with sov'reign sway
Dodona's wintry heights; where dwell around
Thy Sellian priests, men of unwashen feet,
That on the bare ground sleep; thou once before
Hast heard my pray'r, and me with honour crown'd,
And on the Greeks inflicted all thy plagues;
Hear yet again, and this my boon accord.
I 'mid the throng of ships myself remain;
But with a num'rous force of Myrmidons
I send my comrade in my stead to fight:
On him, all-seeing Jove, thy favour pour;
Strengthen his heart, that Hector's self may learn
If, e'en alone, my follower knows to fight,
Or only then resistless pow'r displays,
When I myself the toil of battle share.
And from our vessels when the foe is driv'n,
Grant that with all his arms and comrades true
He may in safety to the ships return."
Thus pray'd he; Jove, the Lord of counsel, heard,
And half his pray'r he granted, half denied:
For from the ships the battle to repel
He granted; but denied his safe return.
His pray'rs and off'rings ended, to the tent
Achilles turn'd again, and in the chest
Replac'd the cup; then issuing forth, he stood
Before the tent; for much he long'd to see
The Greeks and Trojans join in battle strife.
They who in arms round brave Patroclus stood
Their line of battle form'd, with courage high
To dash upon the Trojans; and as wasps
That have their nest beside the public road,
Which boys delight to vex and irritate
In wanton play, but to the gen'ral harm;
Them if some passing trav'ller unawares
Disturb, with angry courage forth they rush
In one continuous swarm, to guard their nest:
E'en with such courage pour'd the Myrmidons
Forth from the ships; then uproar wild arose,
And loud Patroclus on his comrades call'd:
"Ye valiant Myrmidons, who boast yourselves
Achilles' comrades, quit ye now like men;
Your ancient valour prove; to Peleus' son,
Of all the Greeks the noblest, so shall we,
His faithful followers, highest honour give;
And Agamemnon's haughty self shall mourn
The slight on Grecia's bravest warrior cast."
His words fresh courage rous'd in ev'ry breast.
Thick on the Trojan host their masses fell;
While loud the fleet re-echoed to the sound
Of Grecian cheers; but when the Trojans saw,
Blazing in arms, Menoetius' godlike son,
Himself, and follower; quail'd the spirits of all;
Their firm-set ranks were shaken; for they deem'd
Achilles had beside the ships exchang'd
His wrath for friendship; and each sev'ral man
Look'd round, to find his own escape from death.
Then first Patroclus aim'd his glitt'ring spear
Amid the crowd, where thickest round the ships
Of brave Protesilaus, raged the war;
And struck Pyraechmes, who from Amydon,
From the wide-flowing stream of Axius, led
The horsehair-crested Paeons; him he struck
Through the right shoulder; backwards in the dust
Groaning, he fell; around him quail'd with fear
His Paeons all, such terror in their ranks
Patroclus threw, their bravest leader slain,
The foremost in the fight; the crowd he drove
Far from the ships, and quench'd the blazing fire.
There lay the half-burnt ship; with shouts confus'd
The Trojans fled; and from amid the ships
Forth pour'd the Greeks; and loud the clamour rose.
As when around a lofty mountain's top
The lightning's Lord dispels a mass of cloud,
And ev'ry crag, and ev'ry jutting peak
Is plainly seen, and ev'ry forest glade;
And the deep vault of Heav'n is open'd wide;
So when the Greeks had clear'd the ships of fire,
They breath'd awhile; yet ceas'd not so the strife;
For not in headlong panic from the ships
The Trojans by the valiant Greeks were driv'n,
But, though perforce retiring, still made head.
Then of the chiefs, as wider spread the fight,
Each singled each; Menoetius' noble son
First threw his pointed spear, and on the thigh
Struck Areilochus, in act to turn;
Right through the point was driv'n; the weighty spear
Shatter'd the bone, and prone to earth he fell.
The warlike Menelaus aim'd his spear
Where Thoas' breast, unguarded by his shield,
Was left expos'd; and slack'd his limbs in death.
Phyleus' brave son, as rush'd Amphiclus on,
Stood firm, with eye observant; then th' attack
Preventing, through his thigh, high up, where lie
The strongest muscles, smote; the weapon's point
Sever'd the tendons; darkness clos'd his eyes.
Of Nestor's sons, Antilochus, the first,
Atymnius wounded, driving through his flank
He brazen spear; prone on his face he fell.
Then, burning to avenge his brother's death,
Stood Maris o'er the corpse, and hand to hand
Engaged Antilochus; but ere a blow
Was struck, the godlike Thrasymedes drove
Through his right shoulder, with unerring aim,
His glitt'ring spear; the point his upper arm
Tore from the muscles, shatt'ring all the bone:
Thund'ring he fell, and darkness clos'd his eyes.
So to the shades, by those two brethren's hands
Subdued, Sarpedon's comrades brave were sent,
The sons of Amisodarus, who rear'd
The dread Chimaera, bane of mortal men.
On Cleobulus, wounded in the press,
Ajax Oileus sprang, and captive took,
Alive; but sudden on his neck let fall
His hilted sword, and quench'd the fire of life.
The hot blood dyed the sword; the darkling shades
Of death, and rig'rous fate, his eyes o'erspread.
Then Peneleus and Lycon, hand to hand,
Engag'd in combat; both had miss'd their aim,
And bootless hurl'd their weapons; then with swords
They met; first Lycon on the crested helm
Dealt a fierce blow; but in his hand the blade
Up to the hilt was shiver'd; then the sword
Of Peneleus his neck, below the ear,
Dissever'd; deeply in his throat the blade
Was plung'd, and by the skin alone was stay'd;
Down droop'd his head, his limbs relax'd in death.
Meriones by speed of foot o'ertook,
And, as his car he mounted, Acarnas
Though the right shoulder pierc'd; down from the car
He fell; the shades of death his eyes o'erspread.
Full on the mouth of Erymas was thrust
The weapon of Idomeneus; right through,
The white bones crashing, pass'd the brazen spear
Below the brain; his teeth were shatter'd all;
With blood, which with convulsive sobs he blew
From mouth and nostril, both his eyes were fill'd;
And death's dark cloud encompass'd him around.
Thus slew the Grecian leaders each his man.
As rav'ning wolves, that lambs or kids assail,
Stray'd from their dams, by careless shepherds left
Upon the mountain scatter'd; these they see,
And tear at once their unresisting prey;
So on the Trojans fell the Greeks; in rout
Disastrous they, unmann'd by terror, fled.
Great Ajax still, unwearied, long'd to hurl
His spear at Hector of the brazen helm;
But he, well skill'd in war, his shoulders broad
Protected by his shield of tough bull's hide,
Watch'd for the whizzing shafts, and jav'lins' whirr.
Full well he knew the tide of battle turn'd,
Yet held his ground, his trusty friends to save.
As from Olympus, o'er the clear blue sky
Pour the dark clouds, when Jove the vault of Heav'n
O'erspreads with storm and tempest, from the ships
So pour'd with panic cries the flying host,
And in disorder'd rout recross'd the trench.
Then Hector's flying coursers bore him safe
Far from the struggling masses, whom the ditch
Detain'd perforce; there many a royal car
With broken pole th' unharness'd horses left.
On, shouting to the Greeks, Patroclus press'd
The flying Trojans; they, with panic cries,
Dispers'd, the roads encumber'd; high uprose
The storms of dust, as from the tents and ships
Back to the city stretch'd the flying steeds;
And ever where the densest throng appear'd
With furious threats Patroclus urg'd his course;
His glowing axle trac'd by prostrate men
Hurl'd from their cars, and chariots overthrown.
Flew o'er the deep-sunk trench th' immortal steeds,
The noble prize the Gods to Peleus gave,
Still onward straining; for he long'd to reach,
And hurl his spear at Hector; him meanwhile
His flying steeds in safety bore away.
As in th' autumnal season, when the earth
With weight of rain is saturate; when Jove
Pours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men,
Who in their courts unrighteous judgments pass,
And justice yield to lawless violence,
The wrath of Heav'n despising; ev'ry stream
Is brimming o'er: the hills in gullies deep
Are by the torrents seam'd, which, rushing down
From the high mountains to the dark-blue sea,
With groans and tumult urge their headlong course,
Wasting the works of man; so urg'd their flight,
So, as they fled, the Trojan horses groan'd.
The foremost ranks cut off, back tow'rd the ships
Patroclus drove them, baffling their attempts
To gain the city; and in middle space
Between the ships, the stream, and lofty wall,
Dealt slaughter round him, and of many a chief
The bitter penalty of death requir'd.
Then Pronous with his glitt'ring spear he struck,
Where by the shield his breast was left expos'd,
And slack'd his limbs in death; thund'ring he fell.
Next Thestor, son of OEnops, he assail'd;
He on his polish'd car, down-crouching, sat,
His mind by fear disorder'd; from his hands
The reins had dropp'd; him, thrusting with the spear,
Through the right cheek and through the teeth he smote,
Then dragg'd him, by the weapon, o'er the rail.
As when an angler on a prominent rock
Drags from the sea to shore with hook and line
A weighty fish; so him Patroclus dragg'd,
Gaping, from off the car; and dash'd him down
Upon his face; and life forsook his limbs.
Next Eryalus, eager for the fray,
On the mid forehead with a mighty stone
He struck; beneath the pond'rous helmet's weight
The skull was split in twain; prostrate he fell,
By life-consuming death encompass'd round.
Forthwith Amphoterus, and Erymas,
Epaltes, Echius, and Tlepolemus,
Son of Damastor, Pyris, Ipheus brave,
Euippus, Polymelus, Argeas' son,
In quick succession to the ground he brought.
Sarpedon his ungirdled forces saw
Promiscuous fall before Menoetius' son,
And to the Lycians call'd in loud reproof:
"Shame, Lycians! whither fly ye? why this haste?
I will myself this chief confront, and learn
Who this may be of bearing proud and high,
Who on the Trojans grievous harm hath wrought,
And many a warrior's limbs relax'd in death."
He said, and from his car, accoutred, sprang;
Patroclus saw, and he too leap'd to earth.
As on a lofty rock, with angry screams,
Hook-beak'd, with talons curv'd, two vultures fight;
So with loud shouts these two to battle rush'd.
The son of Saturn pitying saw, and thus
To Juno spoke, his sister and his wife:
"Woe, woe! that fate decrees my best-belov'd,
Sarpedon, by Patroclus' hand to fall;
E'en now conflicting thoughts my soul divide,
To bear him from the fatal strife unhurt,
And set him down on Lycia's fertile plains,
Or leave him by Patroclus' hand to fall."
Whom, answer'd thus the stag-ey'd Queen of Heav'n:
"What words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak?
Wouldst thou a mortal man from death withdraw
Long since by fate decreed? Do what thou wilt;
Yet cannot we, the rest, applaud thine act.
This too I say, and turn it in thy mind:
If to his home Sarpedon thou restore
Alive, bethink thee, will not other Gods
Their sons too from the stubborn fight withdraw?
For in the field around the walls of Troy
Are many sons of Gods, in all of whom
This act of thine will angry feelings rouse.
But if thou love him, and thy soul deplore
His coming doom, yet in the stubborn fight
Leave him beneath Patroclus' hand to fall:
Then, when his spirit hath fled, the charge assign
To Death and gentle Sleep, that in their arms
They bear him safe to Lycia's wide-spread plains:
There shall his brethren and his friends perform
His fun'ral rites, and mound and column raise,
The fitting tribute to the mighty dead."
Thus she; the Sire of Gods and men complied:
But to the ground some drops of blood let fall,
