CHAPTER XXII

THE TROJAN WAR

... At length I saw a lady within call,

Stiller than chisel'd marble, standing there:

A daughter of the gods, divinely tall,

And most divinely fair.

Her loveliness with shame and with surprise

Froze my swift speech: she turning on my face

The starlike sorrows of immortal eyes,

Spoke slowly in her place.

"I had great beauty; ask thou not my name:

No one can be more wise than destiny.

Many drew swords and died. Where'er I came

I brought calamity."[280]

=195. Its Origin.= At the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis all the gods

had been invited with the exception of Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her

exclusion, the goddess threw a golden apple among the guests, with the

inscription, "For the fairest." Thereupon Juno, Venus, and Minerva each

claimed the apple. Not willing to decide so delicate a matter, Jupiter

sent the goddesses to Mount Ida where Paris, son of Priam, king of

Troy, was tending his flocks. Till that moment the shepherd-prince had

been happy. He was young and beautiful and beloved,--"White-breasted

like a star," says [OE]none, the nymph whom he had wedded:

White-breasted like a star

Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard skin

Dropp'd from his shoulder, but his sunny hair

Cluster'd about his temples like a god's:

And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow brightens

When the wind blows the foam, and all my heart

Went forth to embrace him coming ere he came.[1]

But to him was now committed the judgment between the goddesses. They

appeared:

And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,

Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,

Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose,

And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,

This way and that, in many a wild festoon

Ran riot, garlanding the gnarlèd boughs

With bunch and berry and flower thro' and thro'.[281]

Juno promised him power and riches, Minerva glory and renown in war,

Venus the fairest of women for his wife,--each attempting to bias

the judge in her own favor. Paris, forgetting the fair nymph to whom

he owed fealty, decided in favor of Venus, thus making the two other

goddesses his enemies. Under the protection of the goddess of love, he

soon afterwards sailed to Greece. Here he was hospitably received by

Menelaüs, whose wife, Helen, as fairest of her sex, was unfortunately

the prize destined for Paris. This fair queen had in time past been

sought by numerous suitors; but before her decision was made known,

they all, at the suggestion of Ulysses, son of Laërtes, king of Ithaca,

had taken an oath that they would sustain her choice and avenge her

cause if necessary. She was living happily with Menelaüs when Paris,

becoming their guest, made love to her, and then, aided by Venus,

persuaded her to elope with him, and carried her to Troy. From this

cause arose the famous Trojan War,--the theme of the greatest poems of

antiquity, those of Homer and Virgil.

[Illustration: FIG. 151. ACHILLES TAKEN FROM SCYROS]

Menelaüs called upon the chieftains of Greece to aid him in recovering

his wife. They came forward with a few exceptions. Ulysses, for

instance, who had married a cousin of Helen's, Penelope, daughter of

Icarius, was happy in his wife and child, and loth to embark in the

troublesome affair. Palamedes was sent to urge him. But when Palamedes

arrived at Ithaca, Ulysses pretended madness. He yoked an ass and an ox

together to the plow and began to sow salt. The ambassador, to try him,

placed the infant Telemachus before the plow, whereupon the father,

turning the plow aside, showed that his insanity was a mere pretense.

Being himself gained for the undertaking, Ulysses lent his aid to bring

in other reluctant chiefs, especially Achilles, son of Peleus and

Thetis. Thetis being herself one of the immortals, and knowing that

her son was fated to perish before Troy if he went on the expedition,

endeavored to prevent his going. She, accordingly, sent him to the

court of King Lycomedes of the island of Scyros, and induced him to

conceal himself in the garb of a maiden among the daughters of the

king. Hearing that the young Achilles was there, Ulysses went disguised

as a merchant to the palace and offered for sale female ornaments,

among which had been placed some arms. Forgetting the part he had

assumed, Achilles handled the weapons and thereby betrayed himself to

Ulysses, who found no great difficulty in persuading him to disregard

his mother's counsels and join his countrymen in the war.

It seems that from early youth Paris had been reared in obscurity,

because there were forebodings that he would be the ruin of the state.

These forebodings appeared, at last, likely to be realized; for the

Grecian armament now in preparation was the greatest that had ever

been fitted out. Agamemnon, king of Mycenæ and brother of Menelaüs,

was chosen commander in chief. Preëminent among the warriors was

the swift-footed Achilles. After him ranked his cousin Ajax, the

son of Telamon, gigantic in size and of great courage, but dull of

intellect; Diomede, the son of Tydeus, second only to Achilles in all

the qualities of a hero; Ulysses, famous for sagacity; and Nestor, the

oldest of the Grecian chiefs, to whom they all looked up for counsel.

But Troy was no feeble enemy. Priam the king, son of Laomedon and

brother of Tithonus and Hesione, was now old; but he had been a wise

prince and had strengthened his state by good government at home and

powerful alliances with his neighbors. By his wife Hecuba he had a

numerous family; but the principal stay and support of his throne was

his son Hector, one of the noblest figures of antiquity. The latter

had, from the first, a presentiment of the ruin of Troy, but still

he persevered in heroic resistance, though he by no means justified

the wrong which brought this danger upon his country. He was united

in marriage with the noble Andromache, and as husband and father his

character was not less admirable than as warrior. The principal leaders

on the side of the Trojans, beside Hector, were his relative, Æneas,

the son of Venus and Anchises, Deiphobus, Glaucus, and Sarpedon.

=196. Iphigenia in Aulis.= After two years of preparation, the Greek

fleet and army assembled in the port of Aulis in B[oe]otia. Here

Agamemnon, while hunting, killed a stag that was sacred to Diana. The

goddess in retribution visited the army with pestilence and produced

a calm which prevented the ships from leaving the port. Thereupon,

Calchas the soothsayer announced that the wrath of the virgin goddess

could only be appeased by the sacrifice of a virgin, and that none

other but the daughter of the offender would be acceptable. Agamemnon,

however reluctant, submitted to the inevitable and sent for his

daughter Iphigenia, under the pretense that her marriage to Achilles

was to be at once performed. But, in the moment of sacrifice, Diana,

relenting, snatched the maiden away and left a hind in her place.

Iphigenia, enveloped in a cloud, was conveyed to Tauris, where Diana

made her priestess of her temple.[282]

[Illustration: FIG. 152. THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA]

Iphigenia is represented as thus describing her feelings at the moment

of sacrifice:

"I was cut off from hope in that sad place,

Which men call'd Aulis in those iron years:

My father held his hand upon his face;

I, blinded with my tears,

"Still strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs

As in a dream. Dimly I could descry

The stern black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes

Waiting to see me die.

"The high masts flicker'd as they lay afloat;

The crowds, the temples, waver'd, and the shore;

The bright death quiver'd at the victim's throat;

Touch'd; and I knew no more."[283]

=197. Protesilaüs and Laodamia.= The wind now proving fair, the fleet

made sail and brought the forces to the coast of Troy. The Trojans

opposed their landing, and at the first onset one of the noblest of

the Greeks, Protesilaüs, fell by the hand of Hector. This Protesilaüs

had left at home his wife Laodamia (a niece of Alcestis),--who was

most tenderly attached to him. The story runs that when the news of

his death reached her, she implored the gods for leave to converse

with him if but for three hours. The request was granted. Mercury led

Protesilaüs back to the upper world; and when the hero died a second

time Laodamia died with him. It is said that the nymphs planted elm

trees round his grave, which flourished till they were high enough

to command a view of Troy, then withered away, giving place to fresh

branches that sprang from the roots.

Wordsworth has taken the story of Protesilaüs and Laodamia for a poem

invested with the atmosphere of the classics. The oracle, according

to the tradition, had declared that victory should be the lot of that

party from which should fall the first victim in the war. The poet

represents Protesilaüs, on his brief return to earth, relating to

Laodamia the story of his fate:

"The wished-for wind was given:--I then revolved

The oracle, upon the silent sea;

And, if no worthier led the way, resolved

That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be

The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,--

Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.

"Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter, was the pang

When of thy loss I thought, belovèd Wife!

On thee too fondly did my memory hang,

And on the joys we shared in mortal life,--

The paths which we had trod--these fountains, flowers,

My new-planned cities, and unfinished towers.

"But should suspense permit the foe to cry,

'Behold they tremble!--haughty their array,

Yet of their number no one dares to die'?

In soul I swept the indignity away:

Old frailties then recurred:--but lofty thought,

In act embodied, my deliverance wrought."...

... Upon the side

Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)

A knot of spiry trees for ages grew

From out the tomb of him for whom she died;

And ever, when such stature they had gained

That Ilium's walls were subject to their view,

The trees' tall summits withered at the sight;

A constant interchange of growth and blight!

=198. Homer's Iliad.= The war continued without decisive result for

nine years. Then an event occurred which seemed likely to prove fatal

to the cause of the Greeks,--a quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon.

It is at this point that the great poem of Homer, the Iliad, begins.

Of this and the other epics from which the story is drawn an account

will be found in Chapter XXXII below; and a list of the best English

translations, in the corresponding sections of the Commentary. What

delight one may derive from reading the Greek epics even in translation

is nowhere better expressed than in the following sonnet of John Keats,

"On First Looking into Chapman's Homer":

Much have I travel'd in the realms of gold,

And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;

Round many western islands have I been

Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne:

Yet did I never breathe its pure serene

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:

--Then felt I like some watcher of the skies

When a new planet swims into his ken;

Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes

He stared at the Pacific--and all his men

Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--

Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

=199. The Wrath of Achilles.= The Greeks, though unsuccessful against

Troy, had taken the neighboring and allied cities; and in the division

of the spoil a female captive, by name Chryseïs, daughter of Chryses,

priest of Apollo, had fallen to the share of Agamemnon. Chryses came

bearing the sacred emblems of his office and begged the release of

his daughter. Agamemnon refused. Thereupon Chryses implored Apollo to

afflict the Greeks till they should be forced to yield their prey.

Apollo granted the prayer of his priest and sent such pestilence upon

the Grecian camp, that a council was called to deliberate how to allay

the wrath of the gods and avert the plague. Achilles boldly charged

the misfortunes upon Agamemnon as caused by his withholding Chryseïs.

Agamemnon, in anger, consented, thereupon, to relinquish his captive,

but demanded that Achilles should yield to him in her stead Briseïs,

a maiden who had fallen to that hero's share in the division of the

spoil. Achilles submitted, but declared that he would take no further

part in the war,--withdrew his forces from the general camp and avowed

his intention of returning to Greece.

[Illustration: FIG. 153. THE SURRENDER OF BRISEÏS From the relief by

Thorwaldsen]

=200. The Enlistment of the Gods.= The gods and goddesses interested

themselves as much in this famous siege as did the parties themselves.

It was well known in heaven that fate had decreed the fall of Troy, if

her enemies only persevered. Yet there was room for chance sufficient

to excite by turns the hopes and fears of the powers above who took

part with either side. Juno and Minerva, in consequence of the slight

put upon their charms by Paris, were hostile to the Trojans; Venus

for the opposite cause favored them; she enlisted, also, her admirer

Mars on the same side. Neptune favored the Greeks. Apollo was neutral,

sometimes taking one side, sometimes the other. Jove himself, though he

loved Priam, exercised a degree of impartiality,--not, however, without

exceptions.

=201. Thetis intercedes for Achilles.= Resenting the injury done by

Agamemnon to her son, Thetis, the silver-footed, repaired to Jove's

palace, and besought him to grant success to the Trojan arms and so

make the Greeks repent of their injustice to Achilles. The father of

the gods, wavering at first, finally sighed and consented, saying, "Go

thou now, but look to it that Juno see thee not, for oft she taunts me

that I aid the Trojan cause." Vain precaution: the jealous queen had

seen only too well, and quickly she confronted the Thunderer with her

suspicions,--

"Fateful favor to Achilles, hast thou granted now I trow!"

said she.

Zeus that rolls the clouds of heaven, her addressing answered then:

"Moonstruck! thou art ever _trowing_; never I escape thy ken.

After all, it boots thee nothing; leaves thee of my heart the less,--

So thou hast the worser bargain. What if I the fact confess?

It was done because I willed it. Hold thy place--my word obey,

Lest if I come near, and on thee these unconquered hands I lay,

All the gods that hold Olympus naught avail thee here to-day."[284]

=202. Agamemnon calls a Council.= In the events which immediately

follow we are introduced to the more important human personages on

both sides. To begin with, Agamemnon, king of men, deceived by a dream

sent by Jupiter, calls a council of the Greeks in which, desiring

to arouse them to fresh onslaught upon the Trojans, he tests their

patience first by depicting the joys of the return home to Greece, and

nearly overreaches himself in his cunning; for had it not been for the

wise Nestor, king of sandy Pylos, and Ulysses of many devices, peer of

Jove in wisdom, the common soldiers, fired with hope of viewing their

dear native land and wives and little children once more, would have

launched the ships and sailed forthwith. Among the murmuring host of

those who clamor for retreat the leader is Thersites, uncontrolled of

speech, full of disorderly words, striving idly against the chieftains,

aiming ever to turn their authority into ridicule. He is the one

ludicrous character of the Iliad, this boaster and scandalmonger,

sneering and turbulent of tongue:

His figure such as might his soul proclaim;

One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame;

His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread,

Thin hairs bestrewed his long misshapen head.

Spleen to mankind his envious heart possest,

And much he hated all, but most the best.

Ulysses or Achilles still his theme;

But royal scandal his delight supreme.[1]

Him Ulysses hearing rebukes, raising his scepter to strike:

"Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state,

With wrangling talents formed for foul debate....

Have we not known thee, slave of all our host,

The man who acts the least, upbraids the most?..."

He said, and cowering as the dastard bends,

The weighty scepter on his back descends:

On the round bunch the bloody tumors rise;

The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes:

Trembling he sat, and, shrunk in abject fears,

From his wild visage wiped the scalding tears.[285]

The revolt is thus stayed. A banquet of the Greek chieftains is then

held, merely of the greatest--Nestor, Idomeneus of Crete, Ajax the son

of Telamon and cousin of Achilles, and Ajax the less, son of Oïleus,

Ulysses, also, and Agamemnon himself. Menelaüs comes, unbid but not

unwelcome. Sacrifices are offered, but in vain; Jove heeds them not.

Finally, a muster of the Greek troops, by nations and by kings, is

determined upon; and so the army is set in array.

=203. Paris plays the Champion.= Likewise the army of the Trojans; and

battle is about to be joined when forth from the Trojan ranks steps

Paris himself to challenge some champion of the opposing host to single

combat,--the beauteous Paris,

In form a god! The panther's speckled hide

Flowed o'er his armor with an easy pride,--

His bended bow across his shoulders flung,

His sword beside him negligently hung,

Two pointed spears he shook with gallant grace,

And dared the bravest of the Grecian race.[1]

Him, Menelaüs whom he had betrayed, Menelaüs loved of Mars, raging

like a lion, swift espies and, leaping from his chariot, hastens to

encounter. But Paris, smitten with a sense of his own treachery,

fearful, trembling, pale at sight of the avenger, betakes himself to

his heels and hides in the thick of the forces behind. Upbraided,

however, by the generous Hector, noblest of Priam's sons, the handsome

Trojan recovers his self-possession and consents to meet Menelaüs

in formal combat between the opposing hosts: Helen and the wealth

she brought to be the prize; and, thus, the long war to reach its

termination. The Greeks accept the proposal, and a truce is agreed upon

that sacrifices may be made on either side for victory, and the duel

proceed.

=204. Helen surveys the Grecian Host.= Meantime, Iris, the goddess of

the rainbow, summons Helen to view the impending duel. At her loom in

the Trojan palace the ill-starred daughter of Leda is sitting, weaving

in a golden web her own sad story. At memory of her former husband's

love, her home, her parents, the princess drops a tear; then, softly

sighing, turns her footsteps to the Scæan gate. No word is said of

her matchless beauty, but what it was Homer shows us by its effect.

For as she approaches the tower where aged Priam and his gray-haired

chieftains sit, these cry,--

"No wonder such celestial charms

For nine long years have set the world in arms;

What winning graces! what majestic mien!

She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen.

Yet hence, oh Heaven! convey that fatal face,

And from destruction save the Trojan race."[286]

--Words reëchoed by our English Marlowe, two thousand years later:

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?

Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--

Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!

Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again!

Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,

And all is dross that is not Helena....

Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air

Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;

Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter

When he appeared to hapless Semele;...

And none but thou shalt be my paramour![287]

Priam, receiving his daughter-in-law tenderly, inquires of her the

names of one and another of the Greeks moving on the plain below.--

"Who, that

Around whose brow such martial graces shine,

So tall, so awful, and almost divine?"[2]

"The son of Atreus," answers she, shamefacedly. "Agamemnon, king of

kings, my brother once, before my days of shame."

"What's he whose arms lie scattered on the plain?

Broad is his breast, his shoulders larger spread,

Though great Atrides overtops his head.

Nor yet appear his care and conduct small;

From rank to rank he moves and orders all."[2]

"That is Ulysses," replies Helen, "of the barren isle of Ithaca; but

his fame for wisdom fills the earth."

Old Antenor, seated by Priam's side, thereupon recalls the modesty and

the restrained but moving eloquence of the wondrous son of Laërtes.

The king then asked, as yet the camp he viewed,

"What chief is that, with giant strength endued;

Whose brawny shoulders, and whose swelling chest,

And lofty stature, far exceed the rest?"[288]

"That is Ajax the great," responds the beauteous queen, "himself a

host, bulwark of the Achæans." And she points out Idomeneus, also, the

godlike king of Crete; then scans the array for her own dear brothers

Castor and Pollux;--in vain, for them the life-giving earth held fast

there in Lacedæmon, their native land.

=205. Menelaüs defeats Paris.= Now from both sides sacrifices have been

made to Jove, avenger of oaths, with prayer for victory and vow of

fidelity to the contract made. But Jove vouchsafes not yet fulfillment.

The lists are measured out by Hector and Ulysses. The duel is on. Paris

throws his spear: it strikes, but fails to penetrate the shield of

Menelaüs. Menelaüs then breaks his blade upon the helmet of the Trojan,

seizes him by the horsehair crest, and drags him toward the Grecian

lines. But Aphrodite touches the chin strap of Paris' headpiece so that

it breaks and leaves the futile helmet in the victor's hand. Then,

wrapping her favorite in a mist, the goddess bears him from the pursuit

of the furious Menelaüs, and, laying him safe in Helen's chamber,

summons his mistress, who first upbraids, then soothes him with her

love.

The Greeks claim the victory, and with justice. The Trojans, then and

there, would have yielded Helen and her wealth, and the fate of Troy

might have been averted, had it not been for the machinations of the

goddesses, Juno and Minerva. These could not bear that the hated city

should thus escape. Prompted by the insidious urging of Minerva, one of

the Trojans, Pandarus, breaks the truce; he shoots his arrow full at

the heart of the unsuspecting Menelaüs. Minerva, of course, deflects

the fatal shaft. But the treachery has accomplished its purpose; the

war is reopened with fresh bitterness.

=206. The Two Days' Battle.= The battle which then begins lasts for

two whole days. In its progress we witness a series of single combats.

Pandarus the archer wounds Diomede, the son of Tydeus. He in turn,

raging over the plain, fells Pandarus with his spear and crushes Æneas,

Priam's valiant kinsman, to his knees with a great stone. Venus shrouds

her fallen son in her shining veil and will rescue him. But Diomedes,

clear of vision, spies her out and drives his pointed spear against

her hand, grazing the palm of it. Out leaps the ichor, life-stream of

the blessed gods, and the goddess shrieking drops her burden and flees

from the jeering Diomede;--nay, mounts even to Olympus where, sobbing

in the arms of her mother, Dione, she finds solace of her pain, and

straightway turns to hopes of vengeance. Æneas, meantime, is wrapped by

Ph[oe]bus Apollo in a dusky cloud and borne aloft to that god's temple,

where Diana and Latona heal him.

To Diomede still breathing slaughter, the god of war himself, Mars, now

appears in form of a Thracian captain, opposing him and stirring Hector

and the swiftly recovered Æneas and the godlike Sarpedon against the

Greeks. And the Greeks give back, but the keen eye of Diomede pierces

the disguise of the War-god, and he shouts a warning to his comrades.

Then Minerva descends to where Diomede, the son of Tydeus, is resting

beside his chariot, and she spurs him afresh to the fray. "Thou joy

of my heart," says she, "fear thou neither Mars nor any other of the

immortals, for I shall help thee mightily." So she takes the place of

his charioteer, and together they drive upon the War-god. And that one

cannot come at the son of Tydeus to strike him down, because of the

ward that Minerva vouchsafes. But, for his part, Diomede strikes his

spear against the nethermost belly of Mars and wounds him, rending

his fair skin; and he plucks forth the spear again. Then brazen Mars

bellows loud as nine or ten thousand soldiers all at once; and, like

Venus before him, betakes himself to Olympus. There, complaining to

Jove, he receives stern reprimand for his intolerant and hateful

spirit, stirring men ever to strife,--"like thine own mother Juno,

after whom, not after me, thou takest." Thus, the father of the gods;

and he makes an end, and bids Pæan, the family physician, heal him.

Diomedes, still bearing down upon the Trojans, is about to fight with

a young warrior when, struck by his appearance, he inquires his name.

It is Glaucus, and the youth is grandson of the noble Bellerophon.

Then Diomede of the loud war cry is glad and strikes his spear into

the earth and declines to fight. "For lo," says he, "our grandfathers

were guest-friends, and guest-friends are we. Why slay each other?

There are multitudes of Trojans for me to slay, and for thee Achæans

in multitude, if thou canst. Let us twain rather exchange arms as a

testimony of our good faith." And this they do; and Diomede gets the

best of the bargain, his armor being worth but nine oxen, and young

Glaucus' five score.

=207. Hector and Andromache.= The Trojans being still pushed nearer to

their own walls, Hector, bravest of Priam's sons, returns to the city

to urge the women to prayer, and to carry the loitering Paris back with

him to the defense. Here he meets his brave mother Hecuba, and then the

fair Helen; but most to our purpose and his, his wife, the white-armed

Andromache, the noblest of the women of the Iliad, for whom he has

searched in vain.

[Illustration: FIG. 154. HECTOR'S FAREWELL

From the relief by Thorwaldsen]

But when he had passed through the great city and was come to the

Scæan gates, whereby he was minded to issue upon the plain, then

came his dear-won wife, running to meet him, even Andromache,

daughter of great-hearted Eëtion.... So she met him now; and with

her went the handmaid bearing in her bosom the tender boy, the

little child, Hector's loved son, like unto a beautiful star. Him

Hector called Scamandrius, but all the folk Astyanax, "defender

of the city." So now he smiled and gazed at his boy silently, and

Andromache stood by his side weeping, and clasped her hand in

his, and spake and called upon his name. "Dear my lord, this thy

hardihood will undo thee, neither hast thou any pity for thine

infant boy, nor for hapless me that soon shall be thy widow; for

soon will the Achæans all set upon thee and slay thee. But it

were better for me to go down to the grave if I lose thee; for

nevermore will any comfort be mine, when once thou, even thou,

hast met thy fate,--but only sorrow. Moreover I have no father,

now, nor lady mother.... And the seven brothers that were mine

within our halls, all these on the selfsame day went within the

house of Hades; for fleet-footed, goodly Achilles slew them all

amid their kine of trailing gait and white-faced sheep.... Nay,

Hector, thou art to me father and lady mother, yea and brother,

even as thou art my goodly husband. Come now, have pity and abide

here upon the tower, lest thou make thy child an orphan and thy

wife a widow." ...

Then great Hector of the glancing helm answered her: "Surely I

take thought for all these things, my wife; but I have very sore

shame of the Trojans and Trojan dames with trailing robes, if

like a coward I shrink away from battle. Moreover mine own soul

forbiddeth me, seeing I have learnt ever to be valiant and fight

in the forefront of the Trojans, winning my father's great glory

and mine own. Yea of a surety, I know this in heart and soul; the

day shall come for holy Ilios to be laid low, and Priam and the

folk of Priam of the good ashen spear. Yet doth the anguish of

the Trojans hereafter not so much trouble me, neither Hecuba's

own, neither king Priam's, neither my brethren's, the many and

brave that shall fall in the dust before their foemen, as doth

thine anguish in the day when some mail-clad Achæan shall lead

thee weeping, and rob thee of the light of freedom.... But me in

death may the heaped-up earth be covering, ere I hear thy crying

and thy carrying into captivity."[289]

So spoke the great-hearted hero, and stretched his arms out to take his

little boy. But

The babe clung crying to his nurse's breast,

Scared at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest.

With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled,

And Hector hasted to relieve his child,--

The glittering terrors from his brows unbound

And placed the beaming helmet on the ground.

Then kissed the child, and, lifting high in air,

Thus to the gods, preferred a father's prayer:

"O thou! whose glory fills the ethereal throne,

And all ye deathless powers! protect my son!

Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,

To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,

Against his country's foes the war to wage.

And rise the Hector of the future age!

So when, triumphant from successive toils

Of heroes slain, he bears the reeking spoils,

Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim

And say, 'This chief transcends his father's fame':

While, pleased, amidst the general shouts of Troy,

His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy."[290]

So prayed he, the glorious Hector, foreboding of the future, but

little thinking that, when he himself was slain and the city sacked,

his starlike son should be cast headlong to death from Troy's high

towers, and his dear wife led into captivity as he had dreaded,

indeed, and by none other than Neoptolemus, the son of his mortal foe,

Achilles. But now Hector laid the boy in the arms of his wife, and she,

smiling tearfully, gathered him to her fragrant bosom; and her husband

pitied her, and caressed her with his hand, and bade her farewell,

saying:

"Andromache! my soul's far better part,

Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart?

No hostile hand can antedate my doom,

Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb.

Fixed is the term to all the race of earth;

And such the hard condition of our birth,

No force can then resist, no flight can save;

All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.

No more--but hasten to thy tasks at home,

There guide the spindle, and direct the loom;

Me glory summons to the martial scene,

The field of combat is the sphere for men.

Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim,

The first in danger, as the first in fame."[291]

He took up his horsehair crested helmet; and she departed to her home,

oft looking back and letting fall big tears, thinking that he would no

more come back from battle.

=208. Neptune aids the Discouraged Greeks.= But the end was not to be

so soon. Hector, returning to the field, challenged the bravest of

the Greeks to combat. Nine accepted the challenge; but the lot fell

upon Ajax, the son of Telamon. The duel lasted till night, with deeds

of valor on both sides; and the heroes parted, each testifying to his

foeman's worth. The next day a truce was declared for the burning of

the dead; but, soon after, the conflict was renewed, and before the

might of Hector and his troops the Greeks were driven back to their

trenches.

Then Agamemnon, king of men, called another council of his wisest and

bravest chiefs and, grievously discouraged, proposed, this time in

earnest, that they reëmbark and sail home to Greece.[292] In the debate

that ensued Nestor advised that an embassy should be sent to Achilles

persuading him to return to the field; and that Agamemnon should yield

the maiden, the cause of dispute, with ample gifts to atone for the

wrong he had done. Agamemnon assented; and Ulysses, Ajax, and Ph[oe]nix

were sent to carry to Achilles the penitent message. They performed

that duty, but Achilles was deaf to their entreaties. He positively

refused to return to the attack and persisted in his determination to

embark for Greece without delay.

[Illustration: FIG. 155. THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES

(Left section)]

Meanwhile the Greeks, having constructed a rampart around their ships,

were now, instead of besieging Troy, in a manner themselves besieged,

within their rampart. The next day after the unsuccessful embassy to

Achilles, another battle was fought, in which Agamemnon raged mightily

with his spear till, wounded, he was forced to retire to the hollow

ships; and Ulysses, too, bravely warring, had a narrow escape with

life.[293] Then the Trojans, favored by Jove, succeeded in forcing

a passage through the Grecian rampart and were about to set fire to

the ships. But Neptune, seeing the Greeks hard pressed, came to their

rescue.[294] Appearing in the form of Calchas the prophet, he raised

the ardor of the warriors to such a pitch that they forced the Trojans

to give way. Here Ajax, son of Telamon, performed prodigies of valor.

Bearing his massy shield and "shaking his far-shadowing spear," he

encountered Hector.[295] The Greek shouted defiance, to which Hector

replied, and hurled his lance at the huge warrior. It was well aimed

and struck Ajax where the belts that bore his sword and shield

crossed each other on the breast, but the double guard prevented its

penetrating, and it fell harmless. Then Ajax, seizing a huge stone,

one of those that served to prop the ships, hurled it at Hector. It

struck him near the neck and stretched him on the plain. His followers

instantly seized him and bore him off stunned and wounded.

[Illustration: FIG. 156. THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES

(Right Section)]

=209. Jupiter inspirits the Trojans.= While Neptune was thus aiding

the Greeks and driving back the Trojans, Jupiter saw nothing of what

was going on, for his attention had been drawn from the field by

the wiles of Juno.[296] That goddess had arrayed herself in all her

charms, and to crown all had borrowed of Venus her girdle, the Cestus,

which enhanced the wearer's charms to such a degree that they were

irresistible. So prepared, Juno had joined her husband, who sat on

Olympus watching the battle. When he beheld her, the fondness of his

early love revived and, forgetting the contending armies and all other

affairs of state, he gave himself up to her and let the battle go as it

would.

But this oblivion did not continue long. When, upon turning his

eyes downward, the cloud-compeller beheld Hector stretched, almost

lifeless, on the plain, he angrily dismissed Juno, commanding her to

send Iris and Apollo to him.[297] The former bore a peremptory message

to Neptune, ordering him to quit the contest. Apollo was dispatched

to heal Hector's bruises and to inspirit his heart. These orders were

obeyed with such speed that while the battle was still raging, Hector

returned to the field and Neptune betook himself to his own dominions.

[Illustration: FIG. 157. THE BATTLE BY THE SHIPS]

=210. Achilles and Patroclus.= An arrow from the bow of Paris had

wounded Machaon, son of Æsculapius, a brave warrior, who, having

inherited his father's art, was of great value to the Greeks as their

surgeon. Nestor, taking Machaon in his chariot, conveyed him from the

field. As they passed the ships of Achilles, that hero, looking over

the battle, saw the chariot of Nestor, and recognized the old chief,

but could not discern who the wounded warrior was. Calling Patroclus,

his companion and dearest friend, he sent him to Nestor's tent to

inquire. Patroclus, performing the behest, saw Machaon wounded and,

having told the cause of his coming, would have hastened away, but

Nestor detained him to tell him the extent of the Grecian calamities.

He reminded him also how, at the time of the departure for Troy,

Achilles and himself had been charged by their respective sires: the

one to aspire to the highest pitch of glory; the other, as the elder,

to keep watch over his friend and to guide his inexperience. "Now,"

said Nestor, "is the time for such guidance. If the gods so please,

thou mayest win Achilles back to the common cause; but if not, let him

at least send his soldiers to the field, and come thou, Patroclus,

clad in his armor. Perhaps the very sight of it may drive back the

Trojans."[298]

=211. Patroclus in the Armor of Achilles.= Patroclus, strongly moved by

this address, hastened to his friend, revolving in his mind what he had

seen and heard.[299] He told the prince the sad condition of affairs

at the camp of their late associates; Diomede, Ulysses, Agamemnon,

Machaon, all wounded, the rampart broken down, the enemy among the

ships preparing to burn them and thus to cut off all means of return to

Greece. While they spoke, the flames burst forth from one of the ships.

Achilles, at the sight, relented so far as to intrust Patroclus with

the Myrmidons for the onslaught and to lend him his armor that he might

thereby strike the more terror into the minds of the Trojans. Without

delay the soldiers were marshaled, Patroclus put on the radiant armor,

mounted the chariot of Achilles, and led forth the men ardent for

battle. But before his friend went, Achilles strictly charged him to

be content with repelling the foe. "Seek not," said he, "to press the

Trojans without me, lest thou add still more to the disgrace already

mine." Then exhorting the troops to do their best, he dismissed them

full of ardor to the fight.

Patroclus and his Myrmidons at once plunged into the contest where

it raged hottest. At the sight of them the joyful Grecians shouted,

and the ships reëchoed the acclaim; but the Trojans, beholding the

well-known armor, struck with terror, looked everywhere for refuge.

First those who had got possession of the ship and set it on fire

allowed the Grecians to retake it and extinguish the flames. Then

the rest fled in dismay. Ajax, Menelaüs, and the two sons of Nestor

performed prodigies of valor. Hector was forced to turn his horses'

heads and retire from the enclosure, leaving his men encumbered in the

fosse to escape as they could. Patroclus drove all before him, slaying

many; nor did one dare to make a stand against him.

[Illustration: FIG. 158. MENELAÜS WITH THE BODY OF PATROCLUS]

=212. The Deaths of Sarpedon and Patroclus.= At last the grandson of

Bellerophon, Sarpedon, son of Jove and Laodamia, ventured to oppose

the Greek warrior. The Olympian looked down upon his son and would

have snatched him from the fate impending, but Juno hinted that if he

did so, the other inhabitants of heaven might be induced to interpose

in like manner whenever any of their offspring were endangered,--an

argument to which Jove yielded. Sarpedon threw his spear, but missed

Patroclus; the spear of the Greek, on the other hand, pierced

Sarpedon's breast, and he fell, calling to his friends to save his

body from the foe. Then a furious contest arose for the corpse. The

Greeks succeeded in stripping Sarpedon of his armor, but Jove would not

suffer the body to be dishonored. By his command Apollo snatched it

from the midst of the combatants and committed it to the care of the

twin brothers Death and Sleep. By them it was transported to Lycia,

Sarpedon's native land, and there received due funeral rites.

Thus far Patroclus had succeeded to the utmost in repelling the foe and

relieving his countrymen, but now came a change of fortune. Hector,

borne in his chariot, confronted him. Patroclus threw a vast stone at

the Trojan, which missed its aim, but smote Cebriones, the charioteer,

and felled him from the car. Hector leaped from the chariot to rescue

his friend, and Patroclus also descended to complete his victory. Thus

the two heroes met face to face. At this decisive moment the poet, as

if reluctant to give Hector the glory, records that Ph[oe]bus Apollo,

taking part against Patroclus, struck the helmet from his head and the

lance from his hand. At the same moment an obscure Trojan wounded him

in the back, and Hector pressing forward pierced him with his spear. He

fell mortally wounded.

Then arose a tremendous conflict for the body of Patroclus; but his

armor was at once taken possession of by Hector, who, retiring a short

distance, divested himself of his own mail, put on that of Achilles,

then returned to the fight.[300] Ajax and Menelaüs defended the body,

and Hector and his bravest warriors struggled to capture it. The battle

still raged with equal fortune, when Jove enveloped the whole face

of heaven in a cloud. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and

Ajax, looking round for some one whom he might dispatch to Achilles

to tell him of the death of his friend and of the imminent danger of

his remains falling into the hands of the enemy, could see no suitable

messenger. In desperation he exclaimed:

"Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou

Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies;

Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such,

Destruction with it; but, oh, give us day!"[301]

Jupiter heard the prayer and dispersed the clouds. Ajax sent Antilochus

to Achilles with the intelligence of Patroclus' death and of the

conflict raging for his remains; and the Greeks at last succeeded in

bearing off the body to the ships, closely pursued by Hector and Æneas

and the rest of the Trojans.

=213. The Remorse of Achilles.= Achilles heard the fate of his friend

with such distress that Antilochus feared for a while lest he might

destroy himself.[302] His groans reached the ears of Thetis, far down

in the deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to inquire

the cause. She found him overwhelmed with self-reproach that he had

suffered his friend to fall a victim to his resentment. His only

consolation was the hope of revenge. He would fly instantly in search

of Hector. But his mother reminded him that he was now without armor

and promised, if he would but wait till the morrow, to procure for

him a suit of armor from Vulcan more than equal to that he had lost.

He consented, and Thetis immediately repaired to Vulcan's palace.

She found him busy at his forge, making tripods for his own use, so

artfully constructed that they moved forward of their own accord when

wanted, and retired again when dismissed. On hearing the request of

Thetis, Vulcan immediately laid aside his work and hastened to comply

with her wishes. He fabricated a splendid suit of armor for Achilles;

first a shield adorned with elaborate devices, of which a noble

description is given by Homer, then a helmet crested with gold, then a

corselet and greaves of impenetrable temper, all perfectly adapted to

the hero's form, and of consummate workmanship. The suit was made in

one night, and Thetis, receiving it, descended to earth and laid it at

Achilles' feet at the dawn of day.

=214. The Reconciliation of Agamemnon and Achilles.= The first glow of

pleasure that Achilles had felt since the death of Patroclus was at

the sight of this splendid armor.[303] And now arrayed in it, he went

forth to the camp, calling the chiefs to council. When the leaders were

assembled, Achilles addressed them. Renouncing his displeasure against

Agamemnon and bitterly lamenting the miseries that had resulted from

it, he called on them to proceed at once to the field. Agamemnon made

a suitable reply, laying the blame on Ate, the goddess of infatuation;

and thereupon complete reconcilement took place between the heroes.

Then Achilles went forth to battle, heartened by the inspiration of

Minerva and filled with a rage and thirst for vengeance that made him

irresistible. As he mounted his chariot, one of his immortal coursers

was, strange to say, endowed suddenly with speech from on high and,

breaking into prophecy, warned the hero of his approaching doom. But,

nothing daunted, Achilles pressed upon the foe. The bravest warriors

fled before him or fell by his lance.[304] Hector, cautioned by Apollo,

kept aloof; but the god, assuming the form of one of Priam's sons,

Lycaon, urged Æneas to encounter the terrible warrior. Æneas, though

he felt himself unequal, did not decline the combat. He hurled his

spear with all his force against the shield, the work of Vulcan. The

spear pierced two plates of the shield, but was stopped in the third.

Achilles threw his spear with better success. It pierced through the

shield of Æneas, but glanced near his shoulder and made no wound. Then

Æneas, seizing a stone, such as two men of modern times could hardly

lift, was about to throw it,--and Achilles, with sword drawn, was

about to rush upon him,--when Neptune, looking out upon the contest,

had pity upon Æneas, who was sure to have the worst of it. The god,

consequently, spread a cloud between the combatants and, lifting the

Trojan from the ground, bore him over the heads of warriors and steeds

to the rear of the battle. Achilles, when the mist cleared away, looked

round in vain for his adversary, and acknowledging the prodigy, turned

his arms against other champions. But none dared stand before him;

and Priam from his city walls beheld the whole army in full flight

toward the city. He gave command to open wide the gates to receive the

fugitives, and to shut them as soon as the Trojans should have passed,

lest the enemy should enter likewise. But Achilles was so close in

pursuit that that would have been impossible if Apollo had not, in the

form of Agenor, Priam's son, first encountered the swift-footed hero,

then turned in flight, and taken the way apart from the city. Achilles

pursued, and had chased his supposed victim far from the walls before

the god disclosed himself.[305]

=215. The Death of Hector.= But when the rest had escaped into the

town Hector stood without, determined to await the combat. His father

called to him from the walls, begging him to retire nor tempt the

encounter. His mother, Hecuba, also besought him, but all in vain.

"How can I," said he to himself, "by whose command the people went to

this day's contest where so many have fallen, seek refuge for myself

from a single foe? Or shall I offer to yield up Helen and all her

treasures and ample of our own beside? Ah no! even that is too late. He

would not hear me through, but slay me while I spoke." While he thus

ruminated, Achilles approached, terrible as Mars, his armor flashing

lightning as he moved. At that sight Hector's heart failed him and

he fled. Achilles swiftly pursued. They ran, still keeping near the

walls, till they had thrice encircled the city. As often as Hector

approached the walls Achilles intercepted him and forced him to keep

out in a wider circle. But Apollo sustained Hector's strength and

would not let him sink in weariness. Then Pallas, assuming the form of

Deiphobus, Hector's bravest brother, appeared suddenly at his side.

Hector saw him with delight, and thus strengthened, stopped his flight,

and, turning to meet Achilles, threw his spear. It struck the shield

of Achilles and bounded back. He turned to receive another from the

hand of Deiphobus, but Deiphobus was gone. Then Hector understood his

doom and said, "Alas! it is plain this is my hour to die! I thought

Deiphobus at hand, but Pallas deceived me, and he is still in Troy. But

I will not fall inglorious." So saying he drew his falchion from his

side and rushed at once to combat. Achilles, secure behind his shield,

waited the approach of Hector. When he came within reach of his spear,

Achilles, choosing with his eye a vulnerable part where the armor

leaves the neck uncovered, aimed his spear at that part, and Hector

fell, death-wounded. Feebly he said, "Spare my body! Let my parents

ransom it, and let me receive funeral rites from the sons and daughters

of Troy." To which Achilles replied, "Dog, name not ransom nor pity to

me, on whom you have brought such dire distress. No! trust me, nought

shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy

weight in gold were offered, I should refuse it all."[306]

[Illustration: FIG. 159. CONTEST OF ACHILLES AND HECTOR]

=216. Achilles drags the Body of Hector.= So saying, the son of Peleus

stripped the body of its armor, and, fastening cords to the feet, tied

them behind his chariot, leaving the body to trail along the ground.

Then mounting the chariot he lashed the steeds and so dragged the body

to and fro before the city. No words can tell the grief of Priam and

Hecuba at this sight. His people could scarce restrain the aged king

from rushing forth. He threw himself in the dust and besought them

each by name to let him pass. Hecuba's distress was not less violent.

The citizens stood round them weeping. The sound of the mourning

reached the ears of Andromache, the wife of Hector, as she sat among

her maidens at work; and anticipating evil she went forth to the wall.

When she saw the horror there presented, she would have thrown herself

headlong from the wall, but fainted and fell into the arms of her

maidens. Recovering, she bewailed her fate, picturing to herself her

country ruined, herself a captive, and her son, the youthful Astyanax,

dependent for his bread on the charity of strangers.

[Illustration: FIG. 160. ACHILLES OVER THE BODY OF HECTOR AT THE TOMB

OF PATROCLUS]

After Achilles and the Greeks had thus taken their revenge on the

slayer of Patroclus, they busied themselves in paying due funeral

rites to their friend.[307] A pile was erected, and the body burned

with due solemnity. Then ensued games of strength and skill, chariot

races, wrestling, boxing, and archery. Later, the chiefs sat down to

the funeral banquet, and finally retired to rest. But Achilles partook

neither of the feast nor of sleep. The recollection of his lost friend

kept him awake,--the memory of their companionship in toil and dangers,

in battle or on the perilous deep. Before the earliest dawn he left

his tent, and joining to his chariot his swift steeds, he fastened

Hector's body to be dragged behind. Twice he dragged him round the tomb

of Patroclus, leaving him at length stretched in the dust. But Apollo

would not permit the body to be torn or disfigured with all this abuse;

he preserved it free from taint or defilement.[308]

[Illustration: FIG. 161. PRIAM'S VISIT TO ACHILLES]

While Achilles indulged his wrath in thus disgracing Hector, Jupiter

in pity summoned Thetis to his presence. Bidding her prevail on

Achilles to restore the body of Hector to the Trojans, he sent Iris to

encourage Priam to beg of Achilles the body of his son. Iris delivered

her message, and Priam prepared to obey. He opened his treasuries and

took out rich garments and cloths, with ten talents in gold and two

splendid tripods and a golden cup of matchless workmanship. Then he

called to his sons and bade them draw forth his litter and place in it

the various articles designed for a ransom to Achilles. When all was

ready, the old king with a single companion as aged as himself, the

herald Idæus, drove forth from the gates, parting there with Hecuba

his queen, and all his friends, who lamented him as going to certain

death.

=217. Priam in the Tent of Achilles.=[309] But Jupiter, beholding

with compassion the venerable king, sent Mercury to be his guide and

protector. Assuming the form of a young warrior, Mercury presented

himself to the aged couple; and, when at the sight of him they

hesitated whether to fly or yield, approaching he grasped Priam's hand

and offered to be their guide to Achilles' tent. Priam gladly accepted

his service, and Mercury, mounting the carriage, assumed the reins and

conveyed them to the camp. Then having cast the guards into a heavy

sleep, he introduced Priam into the tent where Achilles sat, attended

by two of his warriors. The aged king threw himself at the feet of

Achilles and kissed those terrible hands which had destroyed so many

of his sons. "Think, O Achilles," he said, "of thine own father, full

of days like me, and trembling on the gloomy verge of life. Even now,

mayhap, some neighbor chief oppresses him and there is none at hand

to succor him in his distress. Yet, knowing that Achilles lives, he

doubtless still rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy face

again. But me no comfort cheers, whose bravest sons, so late the

flower of Ilium, all have fallen. Yet one I had, one more than all the

rest the strength of my age, whom fighting for his country thou hast

slain. His body I come to redeem, bringing inestimable ransom with me.

Achilles! reverence the gods! recollect thy father! for his sake show

compassion to me!" These words moved Achilles, and he wept, remembering

by turns his absent father and his lost friend. Moved with pity of

Priam's silver locks and beard, he raised him from the earth and spake:

"Priam, I know that thou hast reached this place conducted by some

god, for without aid divine no mortal even in his prime of youth had

dared the attempt. I grant thy request, for I am moved thereto by the

manifest will of Jove." So saying he arose, went forth with his two

friends, and unloaded of its charge the litter, leaving two mantles and

a robe for the covering of the body. This they placed on the litter and

spread the garments over it, that not unveiled it should be borne back

to Troy. Then Achilles dismissed the old king, having first pledged

himself to a truce of twelve days for the funeral solemnities.

As the litter approached the city and was descried from the walls,

the people poured forth to gaze once more on the face of their hero.

Foremost of all, the mother and the wife of Hector came, and at the

sight of the lifeless body renewed their lamentations. The people wept

with them, and to the going down of the sun there was no pause or

abatement of their grief.

The next day, preparations were made for the funeral solemnities. For

nine days the people brought wood and built the pile; and on the tenth

they placed the body on the summit and applied the torch, while all

Troy, thronging forth, encompassed the pyre. When it had completely

burned, they quenched the cinders with wine, and, collecting the bones,

placed them in a golden urn, which they buried in the earth. Over the

spot they reared a pile of stones.

Such honors Ilium to her hero paid,

And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.[310]

FOOTNOTES:

[280] From Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women.

[281] From Tennyson's [OE]none.

[282] Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis, Iphigenia among the Tauri.

[283] From Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women.

[284] Gladstone's Translations from the Iliad.

[285] Iliad, 2 (Pope's translation).

[286] Iliad, 3 (Pope's translation).

[287] Christopher Marlowe, Doctor Faustus.

[288] Iliad, 3 (Pope's translation).

[289] Iliad, 6, 390 _et seq._ (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation).

[290] Iliad, 6, 470-490 (Pope's translation).

[291] Iliad, 6 (Pope's translation).

[292] Iliad, 9.

[293] Iliad, 11.

[294] Iliad, 13.

[295] Iliad, 14, 400-440.

[296] Iliad, 14, 150-350.

[297] Iliad, 15.

[298] Iliad, 11.

[299] Iliad, 16.

[300] Iliad, 17.

[301] Cowper's translation. The lines are often quoted.

[302] Iliad, 18.

[303] Iliad, 19.

[304] Iliad, 20.

[305] Iliad, 21.

[306] Iliad, 22, 350.

[307] Iliad, 23.

[308] Iliad, 24, 15.

[309] Iliad, 24, 330-804.

[310] Iliad, 24, 804 (Pope's translation).

[Illustration: AMAZON]

The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art (2nd ed.) (1911) Based Originally on Bulfinch's "Age of Fable" (1855) · 第 23 / 34 章