The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature) (53 page)

And ease me of the double charge which thou hast blam’d with right.’

He took the scourge and reins in hand, Automedon the fight:

Which Hector seeing, instantly (Aeneas standing near)

He told him, he discern’d the horse that mere immortal were,

Address’d to fight with coward guides, and therefore hop’d to make

A rich prize of them, if his mind would help to undertake,

For these two could not stand their charge. He granted, and both cast

Dry solid hides upon their necks, exceeding soundly brast;

And forth thy went, associate with two more god-like men,

Aretus and bold Chronius, nor made they question then

To prize the goodly-crested horse, and safely send to hell

The souls of both their guardians: O fools, that could not tell

They could not work out their return from fierce Automedon

Without the liberal cost of blood; who first made orison

To father Jove, and then was fill’d with fortitude and strength,

When (counselling Alcimedon to keep at no great length

The horse from him, but let them breathe upon his back, because

He saw th’ advance that Hector made, whose fury had no laws

Propos’d to it, but both their lives, and those horse made his prize –

Or his life theirs – he call’d to friend these well-approv’d supplies,

Th’ Ajaces and the Spartan king, and said: ‘Come, princes, leave

A sure guard with the corse, and then to your kind care receive

Our threaten’d safeties; I discern the two chief props of Troy

Prepar’d against us: but herein, what best men can enjoy

Lies in the free knees of the gods; my dart shall lead ye all.

The sequel to the care of Jove I leave, whatever fall.’

All this spake good Automedon; then, brandishing his lance,

He threw, and struck Aretus’ shield, that gave it enterance

Through all the steel, and (by his belt) his belly’s inmost part

It pierc’d, and all his trembling limbs gave life up to his dart.

Then Hector at Automedon a blazing lance let fly,

Whose flight he saw, and falling flat, the compass was too high,

And made it stick beyond in earth, th’ extreme part burst, and there

Mars buried all his violence. The sword then for the spear

Had chang’d the conflict, had not haste sent both th’ Ajaces in

(Both serving close their fellow’s call) who, where they did begin,

There drew the end: Priamides, Aeneas, Chronius

(In doubt of what such aid might work) left broken-hearted thus

Aretus to Automedon, who spoil’d his arms, and said:

‘A little this revives my life, for him so lately dead

(Though by this nothing countervail’d)’; and with his little vent

Of inward grief, he took the spoil, with which he made ascent

Up to his chariot, hands and feet of bloody stains so full,

That lion-like he look’d, new turn’d from tearing up a bull.

And now another bitter fight about Patroclus grew,

Tear-thirsty, and of toil enough, which Pallas did renew,

Descending from the cope of stars, dismiss’d by sharp-ey’d Jove,

To animate the Greeks; for now inconstant change did move

His mind from what he held of late: and as the purple bow

Jove bends at mortals, when of war he will the signal show,

Or make it a presage of cold, in such tempestuous sort,

That men are of their labours eas’d, but labouring cattle hurt:

So Pallas in a purple cloud involv’d herself, and went

Amongst the Grecians; stirr’d up all, but first encouragement

She breath’d in Atreus’ younger son, and (for disguise) made choice

Of aged Phoenix’ shape, and spake with his unwearied voice:

‘O Menelaus, much defame and equal heaviness

Will touch at thee, if this true friend of great Aeacides

Dogs tear beneath the Trojan walls; and therefore bear thee well,

Toil through the host, and every man with all thy spirit impel.’

He answer’d: ‘O thou long-since born! O Phoenix, that hast won

The honour’d foster-father’s name of Thetis’ god-like son!

I would Minerva would but give strength to me, and but keep

These busy darts off, I would then make in indeed, and steep

My income in their bloods, in aid of good Patroclus; much

His death afflicts me, much: but yet this Hector’s grace is such

With Jove, and such a fiery strength and spirit he has, that still

His steel is killing, killing still.’ The king’s so royal will

Minerva joy’d to hear, since she did all the gods outgo

In his remembrance. For which grace she kindly did bestow

Strength on his shoulders, and did fill his knees as liberally

With swiftness, breathing in his breast the courage of a fly,

Which loves to bite so, and doth bear man’s blood so much good will,

That still (though beaten from a man) she flies upon him still:

With such a courage Pallas fill’d the black parts near his heart;

And then he hasted to the slain, cast off a shining dart,

And took one Podes, that was heir to old Eëtion,

A rich man, and a strenuous, and by the people done

Much honour – and by Hector too, being consort, and his guest;

And him the yellow-headed king laid hold on at his waist,

In offering flight. His iron pile struck through him, down he fell,

And up Atrides drew his corse. Then Phoebus did impel

The spirit of Hector, Phaenops like, surnam’d Asiades,

Whom Hector us’d (of all his guests) with greatest friendliness,

And in Abydus stood his house; in whose form thus he spake:

‘Hector! What man of all the Greeks will any terror make

Of meeting thy strength any more when thou art terrified

By Menelaus? Who before he slew thy friend, was tried

A passing easy soldier; where now (besides his end,

Impos’d by him) he draws him off (and not a man to friend)

From all the Trojans. This friend is Podes, Eëtion’s son.’

This hid him in a cloud of grief, and set him foremost on,

And then Jove took his snake-fring’d shield; and Ida cover’d all

With sulphury clouds, from whence he let abhorred lightnings fall,

And thunder’d till the mountain shook; and with his dreadful state

He usher’d victory to Troy, to Argos flight and fate.

Peneleus Boeotius was he that foremost fled,

Being wounded in his shoulder’s height; but there the lance’s head

Struck lightly, glancing to his mouth, because it struck him near,

Thrown from Polydamas: Leïtus next left the fight in fear,

(Being hurt by Hector in his hand) because he doubted sore

His hand in wished fight with Troy would hold his lance no more.

Idomeneus sent a dart at Hector (rushing in,

And following Leïtus) that struck his bosom near his chin,

And brake at top; the Ilians for his escape did shout.

When Hector at Deucalides another lance sent out

As in his chariot he stood, it miss’d him narrowly;

For (as it fell) Caeranus drave his speedy chariot by,

And took the Trojan lance himself; he was the charioteer

Of stern Meriones, and first on foot did service there;

Which well he left to govern horse, for saving now his king,

With driving ’twixt him and his death, though thence his own did spring,

Which kept a mighty victory from Troy, in keeping death

From his great sovereign: the fierce dart did enter him beneath

His ear, betwixt his jaw and it; drave down, cut through his tongue,

And struck his teeth out; from his hands the horses’ reins he flung,

Which now Meriones receiv’d as they bestrew’d the field,

And bade his sovereign scourge away; he saw that day would yield

No hope of victory for them. He fear’d the same, and fled.

Nor from the mighty-minded son of Telamon lay hid

(For all his clouds) high Jove himself, nor from the Spartan king,

They saw him in the victory he still was varying

For Troy; for which sight Ajax said: ‘O heav’ns, what fool is he

That sees not Jove’s hand in the grace now done our enemy?

Not any dart they touch, but takes, from whomsoever thrown,

Valiant or coward; what he wants, Jove adds; not any one

Wants his direction to strike sure; nor ours to miss, as sure:

But come, let us be sure of this, to put the best in ure

That lies in us; which two-fold is: both to fetch off our friend,

And so to fetch him off, as we may likeliest contend

To fetch ourselves off, that our friends surviving may have right

In joy of our secure retreat, as he that fell in fight

Being kept as sure from further wrong: of which perhaps they doubt,

And looking this way, grieve for us, not able to work out

Or pass from this man-slaughterer, great Hector and his hands,

That are too hot for men to touch, but that these thirsty sands

Before out fleet will be enforc’d to drink our headlong death.

Which to prevent by all fit means, I would the parted breath

Of good Patroclus to his friend with speed imparted were

By some he loves, for I believe no heavy messenger

Hath yet inform’d him; but alas! I see no man to send;

Both men and horse are hid in mists that every way descend.

O father Jupiter, do thou the sons of Greece release

Of this felt darkness; grace this day with fit transparences,

And give the eyes thou giv’st their use, destroy us in the light,

And work thy will with us, since needs thou wilt against us fight.’

This spake he weeping; and his tears Saturnius pity show’d,

Dispers’d the darkness instantly, and drew away the cloud

From whence it fell: the sun shin’d out, and all the host appear’d;

And then spake Ajax (whose heard prayer his spirits highly cheer’d):

‘Brave Menelaus, look about; and if thou canst descry

Nestor’s Antilochus alive, incite him instantly

To tell Achilles that his friend, most dear to him, is dead.’

He said, nor Menelaus stuck at any thing he said

(As loth to do it), but he went. As from the grazier’s stall

A lion goes, when overlaid with men, dogs, darts and all,

Not easily losing a fat ox, but strong watch all night held;

His teeth yet watering, oft he comes, and is as oft repell’d,

The adverse darts so thick are pour’d before his brow-hid eyes,

And burning firebrands, which for all his great heart’s heat, he flies,

And (grumbling) goes his way betimes: so from Patroclus went

Atrides, much against his mind, his doubts being vehement,

Lest (he gone from his guard) the rest would leave for very fear

The person to the spoil of Greece. And yet his guardians were

Th’ Ajaces and Meriones, whom much his care did press,

And thus exhort: ‘Ajaces both, and you, Meriones,

Now let some true friend call to mind the gentle and sweet nature

Of poor Patroclus; let him think, how kind to every creature

His heart was, living, though now dead.’ Thus urg’d the fair-hair’d king,

And parted, casting round his eye. As when upon her wing

An eagle is, whom men affirm to have the sharpest sight

Of all air’s region of fowls, and though of mighty height,

Sees yet within her leavy form of humble shrubs, close laid,

A light-foot hare, which straight she stoops, trusses, and strikes her dead:

So dead thou struck’st thy charge (O king) through all war’s thickets, so

Thou look’dst, and swiftly found’st thy man, exhorting ’gainst the foe,

And heart’ning his plied men to blows, us’d in the war’s left wing;

To whom thou saidst: ‘Thou god-lov’d man, come here, and hear a thing

Which I wish never were to hear; I think ev’n thy eye sees

What a destruction god hath laid upon the sons of Greece,

And what a conquest he gives Troy, in which the best of men

(Patroclus) lies exanimate, whose person, passing fain,

The Greeks would rescue and bear home; and therefore give thy speed

To his great friend, to prove if he will do so good a deed

To fetch the naked person off, for Hector’s shoulders wear

His prised arms.’ Antilochus was highly griev’d to hear

This heavy news, and stood surpris’d with stupid silence long,

His fair eyes standing full of tears, his voice, so sweet and strong,

Stuck in his bosom; yet all this wrought in him no neglect

Of what Atrides gave in charge: but for that quick effect

He gave Laodocus his arms (his friend that had the guide

Of his swift horse), and then his knees were speedily applied

In his sad message, which his eyes told all the way in tears.

Nor would thy generous heart assist his sore-charg’d soldiers

(O Menelaus) in mean time, though left in much distress;

Thou sent’st them god-like Thrasymed, and mad’st thy kind regress

Back to Patroclus, where arriv’d, half breathless thou didst say

To both th’ Ajaces: ‘I have sent this messenger away

To swift Achilles, who, I fear, will hardly help us now

(Though mad with Hector) – without arms he cannot fight, ye know;

Let us then think of some best mean, both how we may remove

The body and get off ourselves from this vociferous drove

And fate of Trojans.’ ‘Bravely spoke at all parts,’ Ajax said,

‘O glorious son of Atreus; take thou then straight the dead,

And thou, Meriones. We two, of one mind, as one name,

Will back ye soundly, and on us receive the wild-fire flame

That Hector’s rage breathes after you before it come at you.’

This said, they took into their arms the body – all the show

That might be made to those of Troy, at arm’s end bearing it.