she saved me, when my shameless mother threw me down from heaven; and I
should have suffered dire anguish had not Eurynome, daughter of Oceanos,
and Thetis taken me to their hearts and comforted me. Nine years I spent
with them, and fashioned all kinds of curious work of bronze--clasps, and
spiral bracelets, and ear-rings, like the calyx of a flower, and
necklaces--in the hollow grot, while all around me roared the streams of
great Oceanus. And none of the other Gods knew where I was, but only
Thetis and Eurynome. And now that she is come, a welcome guest, to my
house, I will repay the fair-haired nymph in every way, for saving my
life."
So saying, he raised his mighty bulk from the block, and, limping on his
slender legs, moved quickly; and he put away his bellows, and placed his
tools in a silver chest, and sponged his face and hands, his strong neck
and hairy breast; then he donned his tunic, and leaning on a staff, he
limped along. And golden handmaids, in the form of living maidens, came to
help their lord; these have intelligent minds, and human voices, and skill
from the deathless Gods. And he went with halting gait, and seated himself
on a shining throne, near the silver-footed Thetis; and he took her by the
hand, and said to her, "O dear and honored Thetis of the flowing robes!
why comest thou to our house, thou, an infrequent guest?"
Then the silver-footed goddess answered him, "O Vulcan! hath Zeus, the son
of Cronos, laid on any other goddess in Olympus such grievous woes as on
_me_, unhappy that I am? He chose out me, from all the sea nymphs, to
endure marriage with a mortal. A son I bare, the greatest of heroes. I
brought him up, like a young tree in a fruitful soil, and sent him in a
high-peaked ship to war against the Trojans; but never again will he
return to me, in the halls of his aged father Peleus. And even while I yet
see him, and he beholdeth the light of the sun, he is full of grief, and I
cannot help him. For King Agamemnon took away his prize, the dearly loved
maiden Briseïs. For the loss of her, he pined and wept; nor would he allow
his Myrmidons to join in the battle, though the Achaians were hard pressed
and driven to their ships. The chiefs of the Argives came to him with
prayers and tears, and many costly gifts. And though he refused himself to
rescue them, he suffered Patroclus to put on his divine armor, and sent
many of the Myrmidons with him to the battle. And the son of Menoetius
performed high deeds of valor, and went near to sack the city. But the
Far-Darting Apollo and glorious Hector slew him, and gained immortal
glory. And now, I come as a suppliant, to clasp thy knees, and to pray
that thou wouldst give my short-lived son a shield, a helmet, a
breastplate, and goodly greaves."
Then the lame god, the famous artificer, replied, "Be of good cheer, O
silver-footed Queen, and be not troubled about these things! Would that I
could as surely save him from mournful death, as that I will supply him
with goodly armor, a wonder to behold!"
And he returned to his workshop, and bade his bellows--there were twenty
of them--blow the blasts on the fire and prepare the earthen moulds; and
as Vulcan willed, the work was done. He melted the tough bronze and tin,
the gold and silver, with the fire; and placed an anvil and took a strong
hammer in one hand, and tongs in the other, and with these he worked.
First, he made the shield, broad and strong, with many decorations. Around
it he placed a triple bright rim, and a silver strap depended from it. The
shield itself was formed with five zones, in each of which he fashioned
many curious works.
Therein he fashioned the Earth, the Sky, the Sea, the unwearied Sun, the
Moon at the full, and all the bright luminaries which crown the azure
firmament: the Pleiades, daughters of Atlas, the Hyades, the mighty Orion,
and, turning about to watch Orion, the Bear, which alone of all the stars
bathes not in the streams of Oceanus.
Also, on the shield, he sculptured two fair cities of articulate-speaking
men. In one of these were wedding-festivals; and, with a blaze of
torchlight, the brides were conducted from their chambers along the
streets; while the hymeneal song was loud, and the youths whirled round
and round in the giddy dance, to the music of flute and harp; while the
women stood at their doors, watching and admiring. In that city he also
fashioned an assembly of the people, in which a contention had arisen,
about the blood-fine or "were-geld" for a murdered man; the people, with
noisy shouts, cheered, on either side; but the heralds stilled the tumult,
holding their staves of office in their hands; and then the judges rose
up, to pronounce their verdict.
Around the other city lay two armies besieging it, with flashing arms. Two
plans were considered: either to destroy the town, or to divide the wealth
thereof with its citizens. But the beleaguered garrison had not yet
yielded, but armed themselves and set an ambush. Their dear wives and
children, and the old men, stood on the walls to defend it, while the
strong men went forth to fight. And they were led by Mars and Athene,
whose forms were fashioned in gold, with golden raiment; and, as gods, he
made them larger and more beautiful than the mortals around them.
The men in ambush set upon the herdsmen who were driving oxen to the
watering-place of the army, and making music with their pipes. They
carried off the cattle; but the besiegers, as they sat before the rostra,
heard the lowing of the oxen and drove up, with their high-stepping
horses, to repel the raid. Then a fierce conflict arose; and in it were
seen Strife, and Uproar, and Dire Fate; like living warriors, they rushed
on one another, and haled away the dead whom they slew.
In another part of the shield, he represented a rich, deep-soiled, fallow
field, thrice ploughed; and when the ploughers came to the end of the
furrow, a man would give to each of them a goblet of sweet wine. And the
ploughed ground grew black behind them, like real soil, although it was of
gold. Then there, too, was a rich field of corn, where reapers were
cutting the harvest with their sickles and it fell in rows; and others
were binding it with bands of straw; while the lord looked on, and was
glad at heart. And under a spreading oak a feast was being made ready for
the reapers.
And he fashioned therein a vineyard, rich with clusters of black grapes,
which the youths and maidens, in their glee, carried in baskets; while a
boy, in their midst, made sweet music on a clear-sounding harp; and he
sang the "Song of Linos," and the rest kept time with their feet.
And there was a herd of straight-horned oxen, all of gold and tin,
hurrying to the pasture beside the gently murmuring stream and the waving
rushes. Four herdsmen, of gold, followed them, and nine fleet dogs. And
two terrible lions seized a bellowing bull. The herdsmen followed, but
they could not set on their dogs to bite the lions, for the dogs shrank
back, barking and whining, and turned away.
And therein the glorious divine artist placed a wide pasture full of white
sheep, with folds and tents and huts. And he made a dancing-ground, like
that which Dædalus wrought at Gnosos for lovely fair-haired Ariadne.
There, lusty youths in shining tunics glistening with oil, danced with
fair maidens of costly wooing. The maidens had wreaths of flowers upon
their heads; and the youths wore daggers banging from silver sword-belts.
They whirled round, with lightly tripping feet, swift as the potter's
wheel, holding each other by the wrist; and then they ran, in lines, to
meet each other. A crowd of friends stood round and joyfully watched the
dance, and a divine minstrel made sweet music with his harp, while a pair
of tumblers diverted the crowd.
Lastly, around the margin of the shield, Vulcan made the stream of the
mighty river Oceanus, which encircleth the earth.
And when he had finished this strong and splendid shield, he wrought the
breastplate, glowing with blazing fire; and he made a heavy helmet for the
head, beautiful, and adorned with curious art; upon it was a crest of
gold. But the goodly greaves he made of flexible tin. When he had
completed the whole suit of glorious armor, he laid it before the
silver-footed Thetis, the mother of Achilles; and she darted, swift as a
hawk, from snowy Olympus, bearing the brightly glittering arms to her dear
son.
THE SLAYING OF HECTOR
By Walter C. Perry
Meantime, Achilles went on slaughtering the Trojans; and the aged Priam
stood on the sacred tower, and saw the son of Peleus driving the Trojans
before him. And he shouted aloud to the brave warders of the gates, "Open
the gates, that the fugitives may enter!" And the Far-Darter went to the
front, to save the Trojans who were fleeing to the sheltering walls, with
Achilles behind them in hot pursuit.
Then would the Achaians have stormed the lofty gates of Troy, had not
Phoebus Apollo roused Agenor, a brave and noble prince, son of Antenor.
Apollo stood by this man's side, leaning on an oak, and shrouded in mist,
and put courage into his heart, that he might ward off fate from the
Trojans. And when Agenor saw Achilles, he stood irresolute, and said to
his mighty heart, "If I too flee before Achilles, he will catch me and
slay me as a coward. Or shall I fly by another way, and hide me in the
spurs of Ida? How, then, if I go forth to meet him? for his flesh, too,
may surely be pierced by the keen bronze, and he has but one life, like
other mortals."
And his heart grew strong within him, to stay and fight. And he cried out
aloud to Achilles, "Surely, thou thinkest this very day to sack the proud
city of Troy? Fool! many terrible things will happen before _that_; for
there are many of us--many and brave--to protect our dear parents and
wives and little children, and to guard holy Ilium. Thou, too, perhaps,
mighty as thou art, mayest here meet death."
He spake and hurled a spear at Achilles with his strong hand. And it smote
him below the knee, and the tin-wrought greave rang loudly; but the stout
spear bounded off, for it could not pierce the work of Vulcan.
Then Achilles rushed on godlike Agenor; but him Apollo caught in a mist,
and carried him safely out of the fray. And the god took the form of
Agenor, and ran a little way before Achilles, towards the deep-flowing
Scamander. And while Apollo thus deceived the mighty son of Peleus, the
routed Trojans ran, well pleased, to their stronghold, and the great city
was filled with their multitude.
Then as he ran before Achilles, the mighty Far-Darter addressed him, and
spake: "O son of Peleus! why dost thou, being a mortal man, pursue _me_
with thy swift feet, who am a deathless god?" Then, in wrath, the son of
Peleus answered him: "Thou hast blinded me, most mischievous of all the
Gods! and lured me away from the walls; else would many a Trojan have
fallen, or ever he had reached the city." He then went towards the city,
with a proud heart, like a war-horse victorious in a chariot race; and the
aged Priam saw him, blazing like the star in autumn brightest of all,
which men call "Orion's Dog," that bringeth fever upon wretched mortals.
And the old man cried aloud, in his agony, and beat his head with his
fists, and called in a piercing voice to his dear son Hector. For the
brave hero, when all the others had escaped into the city, remained alone
at the Scæan Gate eager to fight with Achilles. And his wretched father
stretched forth his withered hands, and pleaded piteously to his son:--
"Hector! dear Hector! do not meet this terrible man alone, for he is far
mightier than thou, and knoweth no pity. Already hath he robbed me of many
a brave son; and now I no longer see two of my children, Lycaon and the
goodly Polydorus, whom Laothoë, princess among women, bare to me. But the
death of others will cause us briefer grief, if thou, dear Hector, art not
slain. Come, then, within the walls, and save the men and women of Troy!
And have pity on me, too, to whom the son of Cronos hath allotted a
terrible doom in my old age--to see my brave sons dragged away, and my
fair daughters carried off, as captives, by the cruel hands of the
Achaians. Last of all, I too shall be torn, on my own threshold, by
ravenous dogs--even the dogs which I myself have reared with food from my
table, to guard my house. They will tear my flesh and drink my blood! It
may well become a _young_ man to lie slain on the field, for he is highly
honored in his death; but when dogs defile an old man's head and beard,
this is the most lamentable thing that befalleth wretched mortals."
And the old man tore his hair in his sore agony; but even he prevailed not
with the soul of Hector. And then his dear mother, Hecuba, took up the
plaint and spake through her piteous tears.
"Hector! my child! have respect to the mother who bare thee and nursed
thee on this bosom! Pity _me_! and fight the foe from this side of the
wall! For if he slay thee, not on a funeral bed shall I, and thy dear
wife, won by so many gifts, deplore thee; but the swift dogs shall devour
thee, far away from us, by the black ships of the Argives."
Thus wailed they over their glorious son, beseeching him; but they could
not prevail, for honor held him fast. Meanwhile, Achilles drew nigh, in
strength like a giant; but Hector awaited him undismayed, leaning his
shield against the tower. And he communed thus with his brave soul: "Alas,
if I go through the gates, Polydamas will justly blame me; for he gave me
good advice--that I should lead the host into the city on that fatal
night, when the noble Achilles returned to the war. And I would not
hearken to him, although he counseled well. And now that I have brought
this evil on the city by my folly, I am ashamed to appear before the men,
and the proud dames with trailing robes, lest some one should taunt me and
say, 'Hector in his pride hath ruined us.' Better then would it be for me
to meet Achilles, and either slay him or fall with glory before the city.
Or how would it be if I should lay aside all my arms, and go to meet the
son of Peleus, and offer to restore Argive Helen and all her possessions
to Menelaus and Agamemnon, and to divide the wealth of Troy with the
Achaians? But no! I might come to him unarmed, but he is merciless, and
would slay me on the spot, as if I were a woman. But why do I hesitate?
This is no time to hold dalliance with him, from oak or rock, like youths
and maidens. Better to fight at once, and see to whom Olympian Zeus will
give the victory!"
While he thus pondered, Achilles, peer of Mars, came on, poising his
terrible spear of Pelian ash; and his divine armor, the work of a god,
blazed like fire or the rising sun. And when Hector saw him he was seized
with panic, and he fled from the gates in terror.
But Achilles, swift of foot, rushed after him. As a falcon, swiftest of
all birds, swoops upon the trembling dove, and takes no heed of her
piteous screaming, so Achilles flew straight at Hector. And pursuer and
pursued passed by the guard and the wild fig-tree, the sport of the winds,
and came to the two springs of water, which feed the deep-whirling
Scamander. Brave was he who fled, but mightier far was he who chased him
on his swift feet; and they were racing not for some prize in the games,
but for the life of the noble horse-taming Hector. And like horses in the
race for a great prize--a tripod or a woman--so the twain ran thrice round
the sacred city of King Priam; and all the Gods were looking on.
And Zeus, the great father of Gods and men, spake first: "Alas! I see a
man whom I love above all others chased round the walls of Troy. Come now,
let us take some counsel, whether to save him or leave him to be slain by
the son of Peleus."
And the fierce-eyed Athene answered him, "O thou great Lord of the
Lightning, Cloud-girt King! what a word hast thou spoken! Wouldst thou
indeed save a mortal long ago doomed by Fate? Do as thou pleasest; but we
Gods shall not praise thee."
And her great father, the Cloud-Gatherer, answered with gentle words, "O
Trito-born, my dear child! be of good cheer. I spake not in earnest, and
would fain please thee. Do as seemeth good to thee." And Athene, full of
joy, sped down from high Olympus.
Achilles, with all speed, was chasing the noble Hector, as the dogs hunt
the fawn of a deer through dale and woodland; and though the fawn hideth
behind a bush, they follow by the scent until they find it; so Hector
could not escape from the swift-footed son of Peleus. Often did Hector
rush along the strong walls, in hopes that the Trojans within might succor
him from above with their arrows. But Achilles gained on him and turned
him into the plain again.
And so, though Hector failed in his flight and Achilles in his pursuit,
yet might Hector have escaped his doom, had not this been the last time
that Apollo the Far-Darter came nigh to him, to nerve his heart and his
swift knees. Achilles had made a sign to his comrades, and forbade them to
launch their darts against the noble Hector, lest one of them should gain
high honor, and he come only second. And when they had, for the fourth
time, run round the walls and reached the springs, then Zeus, the Great
Father, raised his golden scales, and placed in each the lot of gloomy
death,--one for Hector, and the other for Achilles. And he held the scales
by the middle, and poised them; and the noble Hector's scale sank down to
Hades; and Phoebus Apollo left him.
But the fierce-eyed goddess Athene came near to Achilles and spake winged
words: "Now, at last, O godlike Achilles! shall we twain carry off great
glory to the Achaian ships! He cannot now escape us, though the Far-Darter
should grovel at the feet of Zeus with fruitless prayers. But do thou stay
and recover thy breath; and I will go and persuade Hector to stand up
against thee in fight." And he gladly obeyed her voice, and stood leaning
on his ashen spear.
And she, Athene, came to noble Hector in the likeness of his brother
Deïphobus, and spake to him: "Dear Lord and elder Brother, surely the
fleet-footed son of Peleus hath done great violence against thee, chasing
thee round the walls! But let us twain make a stand against him!"
And the great Hector answered, "Deïphobus, thou wert ever the dearest of
my brothers; now I honor thee still more, because thou hast dared to come
out from behind the walls to aid me, while others skulk within."
The fierce-eyed goddess, as Deïphobus, spake again: "It is true that my
father, and my queenly mother, and all my comrades, besought me to stay
with them, so greatly do they fear the mighty son of Peleus; but my heart
was sore for thee, dear brother! But let us fight amain, and see whether
he will carry our spoils to his ships, or fall beneath thy spear!" And so,
with her cunning words, she led him on to death.
And when he and Achilles were come near to each other, the noble Hector
spake: "O mighty Achilles, thrice did I flee before thee round the great
city of Priam, and dared not await thy onslaught. But now I will stand up
against thee, to slay or to be slain. But come, let us make a covenant
with one another, and call the Gods, the best guardians of oaths, to
witness. If Zeus grant me to take thy life, and despoil thee of thy divine
armor, then will I give back thy body to the warlike Achaians; and do thou
the same by me!"
And Achilles, with a malignant scowl, replied, "Speak not to me of
covenants! There is no covenant between men and lions, or between wolves
and sheep, but only eternal war. And there can be no pledge of faith
between us twain, until one of us hath sated the murderous Mars with his
blood. Therefore, show thyself a good spearman and a brave man of war!
There is no escape for thee; for Pallas Athene hath delivered thee into my
hands."
He spake, and cast his long-shafted spear at Hector. But Hector stooped,
and the strong bronze spear flew over his head; but Athene picked it up,
unknown to Hector, and gave it back to Achilles. Then Hector, rejoicing,
spake to the son of Peleus: "Thou hast missed! Nor dost thou surely know
the day of my doom, as thou pretendest. Thou shalt not plant thy spear in
my back, as I flee before thee; but in my breast, if the Gods allow it.
But now, in thy turn, avoid _my_ spear!" So spake he, and smote the middle
of Achilles' shield with his long-shafted spear, but it bounded back from
the shield. Then Hector was dismayed, for he had no second spear to throw.
And he called aloud to his brother, Deïphobus; but no answer came, for
_he_ was far away. Then Hector knew that he was betrayed, and that Athene
had deceived him, in the likeness of his brother. "Now," he cried, "is
Death come near me, and there is no way of escape! This is the will of
Zeus and of the Far-Darter, who once were wont to succor me. But I will
not die ingloriously, but yet perform some notable deed of arms."
He said, and, with his sharp sword, swooped down upon Achilles. But
Achilles rushed at him, wild with fury, brandishing his spear, with evil
intent against noble Hector, and eyed him over, to see where he might
pierce his flesh most easily. The rest of Hector's body was protected by
the splendid armor which he had stripped from the body of Patroclus; but
there was one chink, between the collar-bone and the throat, through which
Achilles thrust his spear. Yet it cut not the windpipe; and Hector was
able to speak faint words to his insulting foe, after he had fallen to the
ground.
Achilles triumphed over him: "Ah, Hector! when thou wert stripping
Patroclus of my goodly armor, thou caredst nothing for me, who was far
away! I, his friend and avenger, was left among the black ships--even I, a
mightier man than he! Thee shall the dogs and birds devour; but he shall
have honorable burial."
Then, with his last breath, the noble Hector of the bright helm addressed
his pitiless foe: "Achilles! I pray thee, by thy soul, and by thy parents'
heads, let not Achaian dogs devour me by the ships! but accept great store
of gold and bronze from my father and my queenly mother, and restore my
body to them, that the Trojans may deck my funeral pyre with all due
honor!"
And Achilles, with a grim scowl, replied, "Clasp not my knees, vile dog!
nor speak to me of parents! Such evil hast thou done me, that I could
devour thee raw! Not for thy weight in gold would I give thee to thy
queenly mother, to mourn over thee; but dogs and birds shall batten on thy
flesh!"
Then the dying Hector uttered his last words: "Thou iron-hearted man! now
I know thee; nor did I think to prevail upon thee. But beware of the wrath
of the Gods, when Paris and the Far-Darter slay thee, at the Scæan Gate,
brave though thou art!"
He spake; and Death overshadowed him; and his soul went down to Hades,
wailing to leave beauty, youth, and vigor.
And Achilles spake again to the dead Hector: "Lie thou there! And as for
me, I will die when it seemeth good to the deathless Gods!"
And the Achaians ran up, and looked with wonder at the noble stature and
beauty of the Trojan hero. And they all inflicted wounds upon him, as he
lay, saying, "He is easier to deal with now than when he was burning our
ships with flames of fire."
And when the son of Peleus had stripped him of his armor, he stood up, and
spake to the Achaians:--
"Great chiefs and counselors of the Argives! at last the Gods have granted
us to slay this man, whose single arm hath wrought more evil to us than
all the rest together. Let us now approach the city, and learn the purpose
of the Trojans; whether they will now surrender the citadel or go on
fighting, though great Hector is no more. But why do I thus ponder in my
mind? Patroclus is lying unburied and unwept by the ships. Never can I
forget him, while I live; and even in the House of Hades, I will remember
my dearest friend. Come, then! let us raise the chant of victory, and bear
our deadliest foe to the black ships!"
Then he foully outraged the dead body of glorious Hector; slitting the
sinews of both feet, from heel to ankle, he passed ox-hide straps through
them, and fastened them to his chariot, leaving the goodly head to trail
upon the ground. Then he laid the armor on the chariot; and mounting it,
lashed his willing horses to full speed. And in the dust lay the once
beautiful head, with its flowing hair; for Zeus had now given Hector up to
his enemies, to be foully used in his own native land.