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Iliad of Homer, Rendered into English Blank Verse

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Meanwhile the Greeks, in firm array, endur’d The onset of the Trojans; nor could these The assailants, though in numbers less, repel; Nor those again the Grecian masses break, And force their passage through the ships and tents, As by a rule, in cunning workman’s hand, Who all his art by Pallas’ aid has learnt, A vessel’s plank is smooth and even laid, So level lay the balance of the fight. Others round other ships maintain’d the war, But Hector that of Ajax sought alone. For that one ship they two unwearied toil’d; Nor Hector Ajax from his post could move, And burn the ship with fire; nor he repel The foe who came protected by a God. Then noble Ajax with his jav’lin smote Caletor, son of Clytius, through the breast, As tow’rd the ship a blazing torch he bore; Thund’ring he fell, and dropp’d his hand the torch. But Hector, when his eyes his kinsman saw By the dark vessel, prostrate in the dust, On Trojans and on Lycians call’d aloud: “Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam’d In close encounter, in this press of war Slack not your efforts; haste to save the son Of Clytius, nor let Greeks his arms possess, Who ’mid their throng of ships has nobly fall’n.” At Ajax, as he spoke, his gleaming spear He threw, but miss’d his aim; yet Lycophron, His comrade, of Cythera, Mastor’s son (Who flying from Cythera’s lovely isle With guilt of bloodshed, near to Ajax dwelt), Standing beside the chief, above the ear He struck, and pierc’d the brain: from the tall prow Backwards he fell, his limbs relax’d in death. Then Ajax, shudd’ring, on his brother call’d: “Good Teucer, we have lost a faithful friend, The son of Mastor, our Cytheran guest, Whom as a father all rever’d; who now Lies slain by noble Hector. Where are then Thine arrows, swift-wing’d messengers of fate, And where thy trusty bow, Apollo’s gift?” Thus Ajax; Teucer heard, and ran in haste, And stood beside him, with his bended bow, And well-stor’d quiver: on the Trojans fast He pour’d his shafts; and struck Pisenor’s son, Clitus, the comrade of Polydamas, The noble son of Panthous; he the reins Held in his hand, and all his care bestow’d To guide his horses; for, where’er the throng Was thickest, there in Hector’s cause, and Troy’s, He still was found; but o’er him hung the doom Which none might turn aside; for from behind The fateful arrow struck him through the neck; Down from the car he fell; swerving aside, The startled horses whirl’d the empty car. Them first the King Polydamas beheld, And stay’d their course; to Protiaon’s son, Astynous, then he gave them, with command To keep good watch, and still be near at hand; Then ’mid the foremost join’d again the fray. Again at Hector of the brazen helm An arrow Teucer aim’d; and had the shaft The life of Hector quench’d in mid career, Not long the fight had rag’d around the ships: But Jove’s all-seeing eye beheld, who watch’d O’er Hector’s life, and Teucer’s hopes deceiv’d. The bow’s well-twisted string he snapp’d in twain, As Teucer drew; the brass-tipp’d arrow flew Wide of the mark, and dropp’d his hand the bow. Then to his brother, all aghast, he cried: “O Heav’n, some God our best-laid schemes of war Confounds, who from my hand hath, wrench’d the bow, And snapp’d the newly-twisted string, which I But late attach’d, my swift-wing’d shafts to bear.” Whom answer’d thus great Ajax Telamon: “O friend, leave there thine arrows and thy bow, Marr’d by some God who grudges our renown; But take in hand thy pond’rous spear, and cast Thy shield about thy shoulders, and thyself Stand forth, and urge the rest, to face the foe. Let us not tamely yield, if yield we must, Our well-built ships, but nobly dare the fight.” “Thus Ajax spoke; and Teucer in the tent Bestowed his bow, and o’er his shoulders threw His fourfold shield; and on his firm-set head A helm he plac’d, well-wrought, with horsehair plume, That nodded, fearful, o’er his brow; his hand Grasp’d the firm spear, with sharpen’d point of brass: Then ran, and swiftly stood by Ajax’ side. Hector meanwhile, who saw the weapon marr’d, To Trojans and to Lycians call’d aloud: “Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam’d In close encounter, quit ye now like men; Against the ships your wonted valour show. E’en now, before our eyes, hath Jove destroy’d A chieftain’s weapon. Easy ’tis to trace O’er human wars th’ o’erruling hand of Jove, To whom he gives the prize of victory, And whom, withholding aid, he minishes, As now the Greeks, while we his favour gain. Pour then your force united on the ships; And if there be among you, who this day Shall meet his doom, by sword or arrow slain, E’en let him die! a glorious death is his Who for his country falls; and dying, leaves Preserv’d from danger, children, wife, and home, His heritage uninjur’d, when the Greeks Embarking hence shall take their homeward way.” His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast. Ajax, on th’ other side, address’d the Greeks: “Shame on ye, Greeks! this very hour decides If we must perish, or be sav’d, and ward Destruction from our ships; and can ye hope That each, if Hector of the glancing helm Shall burn our ships, on foot can reach his home? Or hear ye not, how, burning to destroy Our vessels, Hector cheers his forces on? Not to the dance, but to the fight he calls; Nor better counsel can for us be found, Than in close fight with heart and hand to join. ’Twere better far at once to die, than live Hemm’d in and straiten’d thus, in dire distress, Close to our ships, by meaner men beset.” His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast. Then Hector Schedius, Perimedes’ son, The Thracian leader, slew; on th’ other side Ajax the captain of the foot o’ercame, Laodamas, Antenor’s noble son; While of his arms Polydamas despoil’d Cyllenian Otus, friend of Phyleus’ son, The proud Epeians’ leader; Meges saw, And rush’d upon him; but Polydamas, Stooping, the blow evaded; him he miss’d; For Phoebus will’d not Panthous’ son should fall In the front rank contending; but the spear Smote Croesmus through the breast; thund’ring he fell, And from his corpse the victor stripp’d his arms. Him Dolops, son of Lampus, spearman skill’d, Well train’d in ev’ry point of war, assail’d (The son of Lampus he, the prince of men, Son of Laomedon); from close at hand Forward he sprang, and thrust at Meges’ shield; But him the solid corslet which he wore, With breast and back-piece fitted, sav’d from harm:* The corslet Phyleus brought from Ephyra, By Selles’ stream; Euphetes, King of men, Bestow’d it as a friendly gift, to wear In battle for a guard from hostile spears; Which from destruction now preserv’d his son. Next Meges struck, with keen-edg’d spear, the crown Of Dolops’ brass-bound, horsehair-crested helm, Sev’ring the horsehair plume, which, brilliant late With crimson dye, now lay defil’d in dust. Yet fought he on, and still for vict’ry hop’d; But warlike Menelaus to the aid Of Meges came; of Dolops unobserv’d He stood, and from behind his shoulder pierc’d; The point, its course pursuing, through his breast Was driv’n, and headlong on his face he fell. Forthwith, advanc’d the two to seize the spoils; But loudly Hector on his kinsmen call’d; On all, but chief on Icetaon’s son, The valiant Melanippus; he erewhile, In far Percote, ere the foes appear’d, Pastur’d his herds; but when the ships of Greece Approach’d the shore, to Ilium back he came; There, ’mid the Trojans eminent, he dwelt In Priam’s house, belov’d as Priam’s son. Him Hector call’d by name, and thus address’d: “Why, Melanippus, stand we idly thus? Doth not thy slaughter’d kinsmen touch thy heart? See how they rush on Dolops’ arms to seize; Then on! no distant war must now be wag’d, But hand to hand, till or the Greeks be slain, Or lofty Troy, with all her children, fall.” He said, and led the way; him follow’d straight The godlike chief; great Ajax Telamon Meanwhile the Greeks encourag’d to the fight, And cried, “Brave comrades, quit ye now like men; Bear a stout heart; and in the stubborn fight Let each to other mutual succour give; By mutual succour more are sav’d than fall; In timid flight nor fame nor safety lies.” He said; and pond’ring well his words, they stood, Firm in defence; as with a wall of brass The ships they guarded; though against them Jove Led on the Trojans; Menelaus then With stirring words Antilochus address’d: “Antilochus, than thou, of all the Greeks Is none more active, or more light of foot; None stronger hurls the spear; then from the crowd Spring forth, and aim to reach some Trojan’s life.” Thus saying, he withdrew; fir’d by his words, Forth sprang the youth, and pois’d his glitt’ring spear, Glancing around him; back the Trojans drew Before his aim; nor flew the spear in vain; But through the breast it pierc’d, as on he came, Brave Melanippus, Icetaon’s son. Thund’ring he fell, and loud his armour rang. Forth sprang Antilochus, as springs a hound Upon a fawn, which from its lair disturb’d A hunter’s shaft has struck, and quell’d its pow’rs; So, Melanippus, sprang to seize thy spoils The stout Antilochus; but not unmark’d Of Hector’s eye, who, hast’ning through the press, Advanc’d to meet him; waited not th’ attack, Bold warrior as he was, Antilochus, But trembling fled: as when a beast of prey, Conscious of evil deed, amid the herd The guardian dog or herdsman’s self has slain, And flies, ere yet th’ avenging crowd collect; So fled the son of Nestor; onward press’d, By Hector led, the Trojans; loud their shouts, As on the Greeks their murd’rous shafts they pour’d: Yet turn’d he, when his comrades’ ranks he reach’d. Then on the ships, as rav’ning lions, fell The Trojans: they but work’d the will of Jove, Who still their courage rais’d, and quell’d the Greeks; Of vict’ry these debarr’d, and those inspir’d; For so he will’d, that Hector, Priam’s son, Should wrap in fire the beaked ships of Greece, And Thetis to the uttermost obtain Her over-bold petition; yet did Jove, The Lord of counsel, wait but to behold The flames ascending from the blazing ships: For from that hour the Trojans, backward driv’n, Should to the Greeks the final triumph leave. With such design, to seize the ships, he fir’d Th’ already burning zeal of Priam’s son; Fiercely he rag’d, as terrible as Mars With brandish’d spear; or as a raging fire ’Mid the dense thickets on the mountain side. The foam was on his lips; bright flash’d his eyes Beneath his awful brows, and terribly Above his temples wav’d amid the fray The helm of Hector; Jove himself from Heav’n. His guardian hand extending, him alone With glory crowning ’mid the host of men; But short his term of glory: for the day Was fast approaching, when, with Pallas’ aid, The might of Peleus’ son should work his doom. Oft he essay’d to break the ranks, where’er The densest and throng noblest arms he saw; But strenuous though his efforts, all were vain: They, mass’d in close array, his charge withstood; Firm as a craggy rock, upstanding high, Close by the hoary sea, which meets unmov’d The boist’rous currents of the whistling winds, And the big waves that bellow round its base; So stood unmov’d the Greeks, and undismay’d. At length, all blazing in his arms, he sprang Upon the mass; so plunging down, as when On some tall vessel, from beneath the clouds A giant billow, tempest-nurs’d, descends; The deck is drench’d in foam; the stormy wind Howls in the shrouds; th’ affrighted seamen quail In fear, but little way from death remov’d; So quail’d the spirit in ev’ry Grecian breast. As when a rav’ning lion on a herd Of heifers falls, which on some marshy mead Feed numberless, beneath the care of one, Unskill’d from beasts of prey to guard his charge; And while beside the front or rear he walks, The lion on th’ unguarded centre springs, Seizes on one, and scatters all the rest; So Hector, led by Jove, in wild alarm Scatter’d the Grecians all; but one alone, Brave Periphetes, of Mycenæ, slew; The son of Copreus, whom Eurystheus sent His envoy to the might of Hercules; Far nobler than the father was the son; In speed of foot, in warlike might, in mind, In all, among Mycenians foremost he; Who now on Hector fresh renown conferr’d; For, backward as he stepp’d, against the rim Of the broad shield which for defence he bore, Down reaching to his feet, he tripp’d, and thus Entangled, backward fell; and as he fell, Around his temples clatter’d loud his helm. Hector beheld, and o’er him stood in haste, And with his spear transfix’d his breast, and slew Before his comrades’ eyes; yet dar’d not one, Though grieving for their comrade’s loss, advance To rescue; such of Hector was their awe. They fronted now the ships; the leading prows Which first were drawn on shore, still barr’d their way; Yet on they stream’d; and from the foremost ships, Now hardly press’d, the Greeks perforce retir’d; But closely mass’d before the tents they stood, Not scatter’d o’er the camp; by shame restrain’d, And fear; and loudly each exhorted each. Gerenian Nestor chief, the prop of Greece, Thus by their fathers singly each adjur’d: “Quit ye like men, dear friends; and think it shame To forfeit now the praise of other men; Let each man now his children and his wife, His fortunes and his parents, bear in mind; And not the living only, but the dead; For them, the absent, I, your suppliant, pray, That firm ye stand, and scorn disgraceful flight.” His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast; And from their eyeballs Pallas purg’d away The film of darkness; and on ev’ry side, Both tow’rd the ships and tow’rd the level fight, Clear light diffus’d; there Hector they discern’d, And all his comrades, those who stood aloof, And those who near the ships maintain’d the war. Then was not Ajax’ mighty soul content To stand where stood the other sons of Greece; Along the vessels’ lofty decks he mov’d With haughty stride; a pond’rous boarding-pike, Well polish’d, and with rivets well secur’d, Of two and twenty cubits’ length, he bore, As one well-skill’d in feats of horsemanship, Who from a troop of horses on the plain Has parted four, and down the crowded road, While men and women all in wonder gaze, Drives tow’rd the city; and with force untir’d From one to other springs, as on they fly; O’er many a vessel’s deck so Ajax pass’d With lofty stride, and voice that reach’d to Heav’n, As loudly shouting on the Greeks he call’d To save their ships and tents: nor Hector stay’d Amid the closely buckler’d Trojan ranks; But, as upon a flock of birds, that feed Beside a river’s bank, or geese, or cranes, Or long-neck’d swans, a fiery eagle swoops; So on the dark-prow’d ship with furious rush Swept Hector down; him Jove with mighty hand Sustain’d, and with him forward urg’d the crowd. Fierce round the ships again the battle rag’d; Well might ye deem no previous toil had worn Their strength, who in that dread encounter met; With edge so keen, and stubborn will they fought. But varying far their hopes and fears: the Greeks Of safety and escape from death despair’d; While high the hopes in ev’ry Trojan’s breast, To burn the ships, and slay the warlike Greeks; So minded each, oppos’d in arms they stood. On a swift-sailing vessel’s stern, that bore Protesilaus to the coast of Troy, But to his native country bore not thence, Hector had laid his hand; around that ship Trojans and Greeks in mutual slaughter join’d. The arrow’s or the jav’lin’s distant flight They waited not, but, fir’d with equal rage, Fought hand to hand, with axe and hatchet keen, And mighty swords, and double-pointed spears. Many a fair-hilted blade, with iron bound, Dropp’d from the hands, or from the sever’d arms, Of warrior chiefs; the dark earth ran with blood: Yet loos’d not Hector of the stern his hold, But grasp’d the poop, and on the Trojans call’d; “Bring fire, and all together loud and clear Your war-cry raise; this day will Jove repay Our labours all, with capture of those ships, Which hither came, against the will of Heav’n, And which on us unnumber’d ills have brought, By our own Elders’ fault, who me, desiring Ev’n at their vessels’ sterns to urge the war, Withheld, and to the town the troops confin’d. But Jove all-seeing, if he then o’errul’d Our better mind, himself is now our aid.” Thus he: they onward press’d with added zeal; Nor Ajax yet endur’d, by hostile spears Now sorely gall’d; yet but a little space, Back to the helmsman’s sev’n-foot board he mov’d, Expecting death; and left the lofty deck, Where long he stood on guard; but still his spear The Trojans kept aloof, whoe’er essay’d Amid the ships to launch th’ unwearied flames; And, loudly shouting, to the Greeks he call’d: “Friends, Grecian heroes, ministers of Mars, Quit ye like men! dear friends, remember now Your wonted valour! think ye in your rear To find supporting forces, or some fort Whose walls may give you refuge from your foe? No city is nigh, whose well-appointed tow’rs, Mann’d by a friendly race, may give us aid; But here, upon the well-arm’d Trojans’ soil, And only resting on the sea, we lie Far from our country; not in faint retreat, But in our own good arms, our safety lies.” He said; and with his sharp-edg’d spear his words He follow’d up; if any Trojan dar’d, By Hector’s call inspir’d, with fiery brand To assail the ships, him with his ponderous spear Would Ajax meet; and thus before the ships Twelve warriors, hand to hand, his prowess felt. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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