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Iliad of Homer, Rendered into English Blank Verse

<h3>ARGUMENT.</h3> THE FOURTH BATTLE CONTINUED, IN WHICH NEPTUNE ASSISTS THE GREEKS. THE ACTS OF IDOMENEUS. Neptune, concerned for the loss of the Grecians, upon seeing the fortification forced by Hector (who had entered the gate near the station of the Ajaces), assumes the shape of Calchas, and inspires those heroes to oppose him; then, in the form of one of the generals, encourages the other Greeks who had retired to their vessels. The Ajaces form their troops into a close phalanx, and put a stop to Hector and the Trojans. Several deeds of valour are performed; Meriones, losing his spear in the encounter, repairs to seek another at the tent of Idomeneus; this occasions a conversation between these two warriors, who return together to the battle. Idomeneus signalizes his courage above the rest; he kills Othryoneus, Asius, and Alcathous; Deiphobus and Æneas march against him, and at length Idomeneus retires. Menelaus wounds Helenus and kills Peisander. The Trojans are repulsed in the left wing. Hector still keeps his ground against the Ajaces, till, being galled by the Locrian slingers and archers, Polydamas advises to call a council of war: Hector approves his advice, but goes first to rally the Trojans; upbraids Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again, and renews the attack. The eight-and-twentieth day still continues. The scene is between the Grecian wall and the sea-shore. <h2>BOOK XIII.</h2> When Jove had Hector and the Trojans brought Close to the ships, he left them there to toil And strife continuous; turning his keen glance To view far off th’ equestrian tribes of Thrace, The warlike Mysians, and the men who feed On milk of mares, thence Hippemolgi term’d; A peaceful race, the justest of mankind. On Troy he turn’d not once his piercing glance; Nor deem’d he any God would dare to give To Trojans or to Greeks his active aid. No careless watch the monarch Neptune kept: Wond’ring, he view’d the battle, where he sat Aloft on wooded Samos’ topmost peak, Samos of Thrace; whence Ida’s heights he saw, And Priam’s city, and the ships of Greece. Thither ascended from the sea, he sat; And thence the Greeks, by Trojans overborne, Pitying he saw, and deeply wroth with Jove. Then down the mountain’s craggy side he pass’d With rapid step; and as he mov’d along, Beneath th’ immortal feet of Ocean’s Lord Quak’d the huge mountain and the shadowy wood. Three strides he took; the fourth, he reach’d his goal, Ægae; where on the margin of the bay His temple stood, all glitt’ring, all of gold, Imperishable; there arriv’d, he yok’d Beneath his car the brazen-footed steeds, Of swiftest flight, with manes of flowing gold. All clad in gold, the golden lash he grasp’d Of curious work, and mounting on his car, Skimm’d o’er the waves; from all the depths below Gamboll’d around the monsters of the deep, Acknowledging their King; the joyous sea Parted her waves; swift flew the bounding steeds, Nor was the brazen axle wet with spray, When to the ships of Greece their Lord they bore. Down in the deep recesses of the sea A spacious cave there is, which lies midway ’Twixt Tenedos and Imbros’ rocky isle: Th’ Earth-shaking Neptune there his coursers stay’d, Loos’d from the chariot, and before them plac’d Ambrosial provender; and round their feet Shackles of gold, which none might break nor loose, That there they might await their Lord’s return; Then to the Grecian army took his way. Meantime, by Hector, son of Priam, led, Like fire, or whirlwind, press’d the Trojans on, With furious zeal, and shouts and clamour hoarse; In hopes to take the ships, and all the chiefs To slay beside them; but from Ocean’s depths Uprose th’ Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth, To Calchas’ likeness and deep voice conform’d, And rous’d the fainting Greeks; th’ Ajaces first, Themselves with ardour fill’d, he thus address’d: “’Tis yours, Ajaces, fill’d with courage high, Discarding chilly fear, to save the Greeks: Elsewhere I dread not much the Trojan force, Though they in crowds have scal’d the lofty wall; The well-greav’d Greeks their onset may defy. Yet greatly fear I lest we suffer loss, Where that fierce, fiery madman, Hector, leads. Who boasts himself the son of Jove most high. But may some God your hearts inspire, yourselves Firmly to stand, and cheer your comrades on; So from your swiftly-sailing ships ye yet May drive the foe, how bold soe’er he be, Though by Olympian Jove himself upheld.” So spake th’ Earth-shaker, Circler of the Earth, And with his sceptre touching both the chiefs, Fill’d them with strength and courage, and their limbs, Their feet and hands, with active vigour strung; Then like a swift-wing’d falcon sprang to flight, Which down the sheer face of some lofty rock Swoops on the plain to seize his feather’d prey: So swiftly Neptune left the chiefs; him first Departing, knew Oileus’ active son, And thus the son of Telamon address’d: “Ajax, since some one of th’ Olympian Gods, In likeness of a seer, hath hither come To urge us to the war (no Calchas he, Our augur Heav’n-inspir’d; for well I mark’d His movements, as he went; and of a God ’Tis easy to discern the outward signs), I feel fresh spirit kindled in my breast, And new-born vigour in my feet and hands.” Whom answer’d thus the son of Telamon: “My hands too grasp with firmer hold the spear, My spirit like thine is stirr’d; I feel my feet Instinct with fiery life; nor should I fear With Hector, son of Priam, in his might Alone to meet, and grapple to the death.” Such was their mutual converse, as they joy’d In the fierce transport by the God inspir’d. Neptune, meanwhile, the other Greeks arous’d, Who, to the ships withdrawn, their wasted strength Recruited; for their limbs were faint with toil, And grief was in their hearts, as they beheld The Trojan hosts that scal’d the lofty wall; They saw, and from their eyes the teardrops fell, Of safety desp’rate; but th’ Earth-shaking God Amid their ranks appearing, soon restor’d Their firm array; to Teucer first he came, To Leitus, and valiant Peneleus, Thoas, Deipyrus, Meriones, And young Antilochus, brave warriors all, And to the chiefs his winged words address’d: “Shame on ye, Grecian youths! to you I look’d As to our ships’ defenders; but if ye Shrink from the perilous battle, then indeed Our day is come, to be by Troy subdu’d. O Heav’n! a sad and wondrous sight is this, A sight I never deem’d my eyes should see, Our ships assail’d by Trojan troops; by those Who heretofore have been as tim’rous hinds Amid the forest depths, the helpless prey Of jackals, pards, and wolves; they here and there, Uncertain, heartless, unresisting, fly: Such were the Trojans once; nor dar’d abide, No, not an hour, the strength and arms of Greece; And these are they, who now beside our ships, Far from their city walls, maintain the fight, Embolden’d by our great commander’s fault, And slackness of the people, who, with him Offended, scarce are brought to guard our ships. And, feebly fighting, are beside them slain. E’en though the mighty monarch, Atreus’ son, Wide-ruling Agamemnon, be in truth Wholly to blame in this, that he hath wrong’d The son of Peleus, yet ’tis not for us Our courage to relax. Arouse ye then! A brave man’s spirit its vigour soon regains. That ye, the best and bravest of the host, Should stand aloof thus idly, ’tis not well; If meaner men should from the battle shrink, I might not blame them; but that such as ye Should falter, indignation fills my soul. Dear friends, from this remissness must accrue Yet greater evils; but with gen’rous shame And keen remorse let each man’s breast be fill’d; Fierce is the struggle; in his pride of strength Hector has forc’d the gates and massive bars, And raging, ’mid the ships maintains the war.” Thus Neptune on the Greeks, reproving, call’d: Then round th’ Ajaces twain were cluster’d thick The serried files, whose firm array nor Mars, Nor spirit-stirring Pallas might reprove: For there, the bravest all, in order due, Waited the Trojan charge by Hector led: Spear close by spear, and shield by shield o’erlaid, Buckler to buckler press’d, and helm to helm, And man to man; the horsehair plumes above, That nodded on the warriors’ glitt’ring crests, Each other touch’d; so closely massed they stood. Backward, by many a stalwart hand, were drawn The spears, in act to hurl; their eyes and minds Turn’d to the front, and eager for the fray. On pour’d the Trojan masses; in the van Hector straight forward urg’d his furious course. As some huge boulder, from its rocky bed Detach’d, and by the wintry torrent’s force Hurl’d down the cliff’s steep face, when constant rains The massive rock’s firm hold have undermin’d; With giant bounds it flies; the crashing wood Resounds beneath it; still it hurries on, Until, arriving at the level plain, Its headlong impulse check’d, it rolls no more; So Hector, threat’ning now through ships and tents, E’en to the sea, to force his murd’rous way, Anon, confronted by that phalanx firm, Halts close before it; while the sons of Greece, With thrust of sword and double-pointed spears, Stave off his onset; he a little space Withdrew, and loudly on the Trojans call’d: “Trojans, and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam’d In close encounter, stand ye firm! not long The Greeks, though densely mass’d, shall bar my way, But soon, methinks, before my spear shall quail, If from the chief of Gods my mission be, From Jove the Thund’rer, royal Juno’s Lord.” His words fresh courage rais’d in ev’ry breast; On loftiest deeds intent, Deiphobus, The son of Priam, from the foremost ranks, His shield’s broad orb before him borne, advanc’d With airy step, protected by the shield: At him Meriones with glitt’ring spear Took aim, nor miss’d his mark; the shield’s broad orb Of tough bull’s-hide it struck; but pass’d not through, For near the head the sturdy shaft was snapp’d. Yet from before his breast Deiphobus Held at arm’s length his shield; for much he fear’d The weapon of Meriones; but he Back to his comrades’ shelt’ring ranks withdrew, Griev’d at his baffled hopes and broken spear. Then tow’rd the ships he bent his steps, to seek Another spear, which in his tent remain’d. The rest, ’mid wild uproar, maintain’d the fight. There Teucer first, the son of Telamon, A warrior slew, the son of Mentor, Lord Of num’rous horses, Imbrius, spearman skill’d. In former days, ere came the sons of Greece, He in Pedaeus dwelt, and had to wife Medesicaste, Priam’s bastard child; But when the well-trimm’d ships of Greece appear’d, Return’d to Troy; and there, rever’d by all, With Priam dwelt, who lov’d him as a son. Him Teucer with his lance below the ear Stabb’d, and drew back the weapon; down he fell, As by the woodman’s axe, on some high peak, Falls a proud ash, conspicuous from afar, Scatt’ring its tender foliage on the ground; He fell; and loud his burnish’d armour rang. Forth Teucer sprang to seize the spoil; at whom, Advancing, Hector aim’d his glitt’ring spear; He saw, and, stooping, shunn’d the brazen death A little space; but through the breast it struck Amphimachus, the son of Cteatus, The son of Actor, hastening to the fight: Thund’ring he fell, and loud his armour rang. Then forward Hector sprang, in hopes to seize The brazen helm, that fitted well the brow Of brave Amphimachus; but Ajax met Th’ advance of Hector with his glitt’ring spear; Himself he reach’d not, all in dazzling brass Encas’d; but pressing on his bossy shield Drove by main force beyond where lay the dead: Them both the Greeks withdrew; th’ Athenian chiefs Stychius and brave Menestheus, bore away Amid the ranks of Greece Amphimachus; While, as two lions high above the ground Bear through the brushwood in their jaws a goat, Snatch’d from the sharp-fang’d dogs’ protecting care: So, fill’d with warlike rage, th’ Ajaces twain Lifted on high, and of its armour stripp’d The corpse of Imbrius; and Oileus’ son, Griev’d at Amphimachus, his comrade’s death, Cut from the tender neck, and like a ball Sent whirling through the crowd the sever’d head; And in the dust at Hector’s feet it fell. Then, for his grandson slain, fierce anger fill’d The breast of Neptune; through the tents of Greece And ships he pass’d, the Greeks encouraging, And ills preparing for the sons of Troy. Him met Idomeneus, the warrior King, Leaving a comrade, from the battle field, Wounded behind the knee, but newly brought; Borne by his comrades, to the leech’s care He left him, eager to rejoin the fray; Whom by his tent th’ Earth-shaking God address’d, The voice assuming of Andraemon’s son, Who o’er th’ Ætolians, as a God rever’d, In Pleuron reign’d, and lofty Calydon: “Where now, Idomeneus, sage Cretan chief, Are all the vaunting threats, so freely pour’d Against the Trojans by the sons of Greece?” To whom the Cretan King, Idomeneus: “Thoas, on none, so far as I may judge, May blame be cast; we all our duties know; Nor see I one by heartless fear restrain’d, Nor hanging back, and flinching from the war: Yet by th’ o’erruling will of Saturn’s son It seems decreed that here the Greeks should fall, And far from Argos lie in nameless graves. But, Thoas, as thyself art ever staunch, Nor slow the laggards to reprove, thy work Remit not now; but rouse each sev’ral man.” To whom Earth-shaking Neptune thus replied: “Idomeneus, may he from Troy return No more, but here remain to glut the dogs, If such there be, from this day’s fight who shrinks. But haste thee, don thine arms; great need is now To hasten, if in aught we two may serve: E’en meaner men, united, courage gain; But we the bravest need not fear to meet.” He said, and to the strife of men return’d. Within his well-constructed tent arriv’d, Straight donn’d Idomeneus his armour bright: Two spears he took; and, like the lightning’s flash, Which, as a sign to men, the hand of Jove Hurls downwards from Olympus’ glitt’ring heights; Whose dazzling radiance far around is thrown; Flash’d, as the warrior ran, his armour bright. Him met Meriones, his follower brave, Close to the tent; to seek a spear he came; To whom Idomeneus: “Meriones, Swift-footed son of Molus, comrade dear, Why com’st thou here, and leav’st the battle field? Hast thou some wound receiv’d, whereof the pain Subdues thy spirit? or com’st thou, to the field To summon me? unsummon’d, well thou know’st I better love the battle than the tent.” Whom answer’d thus the sage Meriones: “Idomeneus, the brass-clad Cretans’ King, I come to seek a spear, if haply such Within thy tent be found; for, in the fight, That which I lately bore, e’en now I broke Against the shield of brave Deiphobus.” To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King: “Of spears, or one, or twenty, if thou list, Thou there mayst find against the polish’d wall. The spoil of Trojans slain; for with my foes ’Tis not my wont to wage a distant war. Thence have I store of spears, and bossy shields, And crested helms, and breastplates polish’d bright.” Whom answer’d thus the sage Meriones: “Nor are my tent and dark-ribb’d ship devoid Of Trojan spoils; but they are far to seek; Nor deem I that my hand is slack in fight; For ’mid the foremost in the glorious strife I stand, whene’er is heard the battle cry. My deeds by others of the brass-clad Greeks May not be noted; but thou know’st them well.” To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan King: “What need of this? thy prowess well I know; For should we choose our bravest through the fleet To man the secret ambush, surest test Of warriors’ courage, where is manifest The diff’rence ’twixt the coward and the brave; (The coward’s colour changes, nor his soul Within his breast its even balance keeps, But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts, And in his bosom loudly beats his heart, Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth: The brave man’s colour changes not; no fear He knows, the ambush ent’ring; all his pray’r Is that the hour of battle soon may come) E’en there, thy courage none might call in doubt. Shouldst thou from spear or sword receive a wound, Not on thy neck behind, nor on thy back Would fall the blow, but on thy breast, in front, Still pressing onward ’mid the foremost ranks. But come, prolong we not this idle talk, Like babblers vain, who scorn might justly move: Haste to my tent, and there select thy spear.” He said: and from the tent Meriones, Valiant as Mars, his spear selected straight, And, eager for the fray, rejoin’d his chief. As Mars, the bane of men, goes forth to war, Attended by his strong, unfearing son, Terror, who shakes the bravest warrior’s soul; They two, from Thrace, against the Ephyri, Or haughty Phlegyans arm; nor hear alike The pray’rs of both the combatants, one side With vict’ry crowning; so to battle went Those leaders twain, in dazzling arms array’d: Then thus Meriones his chief address’d: “Son of Deucalion, say if on the right, Or on the centre of the gen’ral host, Our onset should be made, or on the left; For there, methinks, most succour need the Greeks.” To whom Idomeneus, the Cretan chief: “Others there are the centre to defend, Th’ Ajaces both, and Teucer, of the Greeks Best archer, good too in the standing fight; These may for Hector full employment find, Brave as he is, and eager for the fray; E’en for his courage ’twere a task too hard, Their might to conquer, and resistless hands, And burn the ships, if Saturn’s son himself Fire not, and ’mid the shipping throw the torch. Great Ajax Telamon to none would yield, Of mortal birth, by earthly food sustain’d, By spear or pond’rous stone assailable; In hand to hand encounter, scarce surpass’d By Peleus’ son Achilles; though with him In speed of foot he might not hope to vie. Then on the left let us our onset make; And quickly learn if we on others’ heads Are doom’d to win renown, or they on ours.” He said: and, brave as Mars, Meriones, Thither where he directed, led the way. Now when, attended thus, Idomeneus, Like blazing fire, in dazzling arms appear’d, Around him throng’d, with rallying cries, the Greeks, And rag’d beside the ships the balanc’d fight. As, when the dust lies deepest on the roads, Before the boist’rous winds the storm drives fast, And high at once the whirling clouds are toss’d; So was the fight confus’d; and in the throng Each man with keen desire of slaughter burn’d. Bristled the deadly strife with pond’rous spears, Wielded with dire intent; the brazen gleam Dazzled the sight, by flashing helmets cast, And breastplates polish’d bright, and glitt’ring shields Commingling; stern of heart indeed were he, Who on that sight with joy, not pain, could gaze. Dire evil then on mortal warriors brought The diverse minds of Saturn’s mighty sons: To Hector and the Trojans Jove design’d, In honour of Achilles, swift of foot, To give the vict’ry; yet not utterly He will’d to slay before the walls of Troy The Grecian host; but glory to confer On Thetis and her noble-minded son. Neptune, on th’ other side, the Greeks inspir’d, Clandestine rising from the hoary sea; For them before the Trojan host o’erborne He saw with grief, and deeply wroth with Jove. Equal the rank of both, their birth the same, But Jove in wisdom, as in years, the first. Nor ventur’d Neptune openly to aid The cause of Greece; but cloth’d in mortal form, In secret still the army’s courage rous’d. This way and that they tugg’d of furious war And balanc’d strife, where many a warrior fell, The straining rope, which none might break or loose. Then, though his hair was grizzl’d o’er with age, Calling the Greeks to aid, Idomeneus, Inspiring terror, on the Trojans sprang, And slew Othryoneus, who but of late Came from Cabesus on the alarm of war; And, welcomed as a guest in Priam’s house, The fairest of his daughters sought to wed, No portion asked, Cassandra; mighty deeds He promis’d, from before the walls of Troy In their despite to drive the sons of Greece. The aged Priam listen’d to his snit; And he, his promise trusting, fought for Troy. Him, marching with proud step, Idomeneus Struck with his glitt’ring spear, nor aught avail’d His brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust, Thund’ring he fell: the victor vaunting cried: “Othryoneus, above all mortal men I hold thee in respect, if thou indeed Wilt make thy words to aged Priam good, Who promis’d thee his daughter in return: We too would offer thee a like reward; And give thee here to wed, from Argos brought, Atrides’ fairest daughter, if with us Thou wilt o’erthrow the well-built walls of Troy. Come then, on board our ocean-going ships Discuss the marriage contract; nor shall we Be found illib’ral of our bridal gifts.” He said, and seizing by the foot the slain, Dragg’d from the press; but to the rescue came Asius, himself on foot before his car: So close his charioteer the horses held, They breath’d upon his shoulders; eagerly He sought to reach Idomeneus; but he, Preventing, through his gullet drove the spear, Beneath his chin; right through the weapon pass’d; He fell; as falls an oak, or poplar tall, Or lofty pine, which on the mountain top, For some proud ship, the woodman’s axe hath hewn: So he, before the car and horses stretch’d, His death-cry utt’ring, clutch’d the blood-stain’d soil; Bewilder’d, helpless, stood his charioteer; Nor dar’d, escaping from the foemen’s hands, To turn his horses: him, Antilochus Beneath the waistband struck; nor aught avail’d His brazen breastplate; through the middle thrust, He, from the well-wrought chariot, gasping, fell. Antilochus, the noble Nestor’s son, The horses seiz’d, and from the Trojan ranks Drove to the Grecian camp. For Asius’ death Deep griev’d, Deiphobus, approaching, hurl’d Against Idomeneus his glitt’ring spear: The coming weapon he beheld, and shunn’d: Beneath the ample circle of his shield, With hides and brazen plates encircled round, And by two rods sustain’d, conceal’d he stood: Beneath he crouch’d, and o’er him flew the spear: Yet harsh it grated, glancing from the shield; Nor bootless from that stalwart hand it flew, But through the midriff, close below the heart, Hypsenor, son of Hippasus, it struck, And straight relax’d his limbs; then shouting loud, In boastful tone, Deiphobus exclaim’d: “Not unaveng’d lies Asius; he, methinks, As I have found him fellowship, with joy Thro’ Hades’ strongly-guarded gates may pass.” He said; the Greeks, indignant, heard his boast; Chief, of Antilochus the manly soul Was stirr’d within him; yet amid his grief His comrade not forgetting, up he ran, And o’er him spread the cover of his shield. Meanwhile, two trusty friends, Mecistheus, son Of Echius, and Alastor, rais’d the slain, And deeply groaning bore him to the ships. Nor did Idomeneus his noble rage Abate; still burning o’er some Trojan soul To draw the gloomy veil of night and death; Or, having sav’d the Greeks, himself to fall. Then high-born Æsuetes’ son he slew, Alcathous; he, Anchises’ son-in-law, The eldest of his daughters had to wife, Hippodamia; by her parents both, O’er all, belov’d; in beauty, skill, and mind, All her compeers surpassing; wife of one, The noblest man through all the breadth of Troy. Him Neptune by Idomeneus subdued; Seal’d his quick eyes, his active limbs restrain’d, Without the pow’r to fly, or shun the spear; Fix’d as a pillar, or a lofty tree, He stood, while through his breast Idomeneus His weapon drove; the brazen mail it broke, Which oft had turn’d aside the stroke of death; Harshly it grated, sever’d by the spear: He fell; the spear-point quiv’ring in his heart, Which with convulsive throbbings shook the shaft. There Mars its course arrested. Then with shouts Of triumph, vaunting, thus Idomeneus: “How now, Deiphobus? are three for one An equal balance? where are now thy boasts? Come forth, my friend, thyself to me oppos’d; And learn, if here, unworthy my descent From Jove, my great progenitor, I stand. He Minos, guardian chief of Crete, begot; Noble Deucalion was to Minos born, I to Deucalion; far extends my rule In wide-spread Crete; whom now our ships have brought, A bane to thee, thy sire, and Trojans all.” He said; and doubtful stood Deiphobus, Or to retreat, and summon to his aid The Trojans, or alone the venture try. Thus as he mus’d, the wiser course appear’d To seek Æneas; him he found apart, Behind the crowd; for he was still at feud With godlike Priam, who, he thought, withheld The public honour to his valour due. To whom Deiphobus, approaching, thus: “Æneas, sagest councillor of Troy, Behoves thee now, if rev’rence for the dead Can move thy soul, thy sister’s husband aid: Haste we to save Alcathous; who of old, When thou wast little, in thy father’s house, Nurs’d thee with tender care; for him, but now, The spear-renown’d Idomeneus hath slain.” He said; Æneas’ spirit was rous’d, and fill’d With martial rage he sought Idomeneus. Nor, cowardlike, did he th’ encounter shun; But firmly stood, as stands a mountain-boar Self-confident, that in some lonely spot Awaits the clam’rous chase; bristles his back; His eyes with fire are flashing; and his tusks He whets, on men and dogs prepar’d to rush: So stood the spear-renown’d Idomeneus, The onset of Æneas, swift in fight, Awaiting; and the friends he saw around He summon’d to his aid; Ascalaphus, Deipyrus, and brave Meriones, Antilochus and Aphareus; to these, Tried warriors all, he thus addressed his speech: “Aid me, my friends! alone I stand, and dread The onset of Æneas, swift of foot. Mighty to slay in battle; and the bloom Of youth is his, the crown of human strength; If, as our spirit, our years were but the same, Great glory now should he, or I, obtain.” He said; and, one in heart, their bucklers slop’d Upon their shoulders, all beside him stood. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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