I
Agamemnon's taunts had sunk deep into the heart of Diomede, and he went
into battle with a stern resolve to vindicate his manhood in the eyes
of all Greece. A fierce light blazed from his helm and shield as he
rushed, like a living engine of destruction, into the thickest of the
fight. The first to feel the weight of his arm was a young Trojan
named Phegeus, son of Dares, a priest of Hephæstus. Mounted on the
same car with his brother Idæus, he drove furiously at Diomede, who was
fighting on foot, and aimed a blow at him with his spear; but the
weapon went wide of the mark, and the next moment he rolled from his
car, pierced through the breast by the spear of Diomede. Idæus sprang
to the ground and fled, leaving car and horses as a spoil to his
brother's slayer.
While Diomede was disposing of his booty, the Greeks pursued their
advantage, and there was not a chieftain of name among them who failed
to slay his man. Then fell Scamandrius, a famous Trojan hunter, and
the favourite of Artemis, pierced in the back by the spear of Menelaus,
and Phericlus, whose father, Tecton, had built the fatal ships which
bore Paris and his retinue to Greece, and many more, of whose names
there is no record.
Back to the field came Diomede, sweeping all before him like a river in
flood, which breaks down dyke and dam, and covers the smiling fields
with ruin. So impetuous were his movements as he darted to and fro in
pursuit of the flying Trojans, that it was hard to see on which side he
fought; but, wherever he passed, his path was strewn with Trojan dead.
At last he received a check from Pandarus, the archer whose treacherous
hand had broken the truce an hour or two before. Watching him from a
safe distance, Pandarus shot an arrow, which pierced clean through
Diomede's right shoulder, staining his corslet with blood. Loud was
the joy of Pandarus when he saw the success of his archery: "Turn
again," he shouted, "ye horsemen of Troy! Back to the fray, every one!
The bravest of the Greeks is wounded unto death."
The boast of Pandarus was premature, for the wound was not severe,
though sufficient to disable the hero's arm for the moment. Diomede
drew back out of the press, and with the assistance of Sthenelus, his
charioteer, drew out the arrow which was galling his shoulder. Then he
stood apart and prayed to Athene, the patron goddess of his mighty
father, Tydeus. And she heard him, and came and stood before him in
all her divine majesty, and said: "Take heart, son of Tydeus, for I am
ever near thee, and I have put into thy heart all the valour of thy
sire. And I have taken from thine eyes the darkness which before lay
upon them, that thou mayest look upon the gods and know them, face to
face.[1] If thou seest any of the other gods, avoid them, and presume
not to fight against the children of heaven; but if Aphrodite, Jove's
froward daughter, comes into the battle, have at her, and strike, and
fear nothing."
[1] Compare "Stories from the Æneid," p. 18.
Athene vanished as she spoke, but Diomede felt her influence working
powerfully within him, and in an instant the flow of his blood was
stanched, and he felt no more pain from his wound. Then like a lion
who has been grazed by the shepherd's spear as he leaps into a lonely
sheepfold, and is but provoked to new rage by that slight wound, so
that he falls upon the helpless flock, and gluts himself with carnage,
while the shepherd cowers away in terror--so Diomede returned with new
fury to the slaughter, and drove the Trojans in rout before him. Like
hammer on anvil, so rained his strokes among the ranks of the foe.
With one blow he sent his spear through the breast of a tall Trojan;
with the next his keen falchion shore oft the arm and shoulder of
another. Leaving these where they lay, he went in pursuit of Abas and
Polyidus, the sons of Eurydamas, a famous seer and interpreter of
dreams. Often had they listened to their father's lore, and brought
their dreams to him to expound unto them. But the worst dream they
ever had now came upon them; and when they awoke they were on the banks
of the Styx. Yet another Trojan father had cause to mourn that
day--Phænops, a man of wealth, who sent two sons, the children of his
old age, to the war. But never again did his aged eyes brighten to
behold the face of his children, and all his wealth was divided among
strangers.
When Æneas observed the havoc which was wrought by the arm of Diomede
he went to Pandarus, and said to him: "Where is thy boasted skill in
archery, that thou sufferest this man to hew down our ranks, and never
liftest thy bow against him? Come, shoot me an arrow at the breast of
Diomede, and first utter a prayer to Zeus, that we may know if the gods
are indeed against us."
"If that be Diomede," answered Pandarus, "there is something divine in
this frenzy of his; methinks he is some god, who has put on the
likeness of Diomede. But now, I aimed an arrow at him, and struck him
fairly in the right shoulder. I thought that he was already a
passenger to Hades, but, lo! he comes forth stronger and more terrible
than before. In an evil hour I took my bow from the wall, when I came
to fight on the side of Priam; and I hearkened not to my father's words
when he bade me fight like the rest with chariot and with horses,
whereof he had goodly store. Twice have I drawn my bow this day
against the noblest of the Greeks, Menelaus, and Diomede, and struck
them fair, and made their blood to flow; but it hath naught availed.
If ever I get safely home again, I will offer my head to be severed
from my shoulders by the meanest churl, if I do not break this accursed
bow of mine in pieces, and burn it with fire."
"This is idle talk," answered Æneas. "We must meet this man face to
face and hand to hand if we would stay his fury. Come, mount my car
with me, that thou mayest see of what mettle are these steeds of mine,
unrivalled in flight or in pursuit. If thou wilt, take the reins, and
I will stand by thy side to wield the spear; or if thou preferrest it,
I will drive and thou shalt fight."
"Drive thou," replied Pandarus, mounting by the side of Æneas, "so that
if there be need of hasty flight, the steeds may not fail us, knowing
their master's hand." "Thou sayest well," said Æneas, and, lashing the
horses to a gallop, drove rapidly towards the place where Diomede was
fighting.
"Back, Diomede!" shouted Sthenelus, in alarm, when he saw them
approaching. "I see two mighty men coming against us--Pandarus, son of
Lycaon, and Æneas, whose mother is the goddess Aphrodite. Mount the
car, and let us retreat."
"How darest thou name retreat to me," answered Diomede sternly, "I
scorn thy counsels, and will go to meet these champions even as I am,
on foot; both of them shall not return alive. And now mark my words,
and do as I shall bid thee: if these twain fall beneath my spear, leave
thou the horses which thou art driving, and, having mounted the car of
Æneas, drive with all speed to the rear. For these steeds are of blood
divine, descended from those which Zeus gave unto Tros as a recompense
for the loss of Ganymede his son. If we can capture them it will be a
splendid prize."
So saying, he turned to meet the Trojan chieftains, who were now close
at hand. Pandarus held his weapon ready poised, and when he came
within throwing distance he cast his lance, crying: "Take that, bold
son of Tydeus! Perchance I shall have better luck with the spear."
The weighty spear, thrown by no feeble hand, pierced through the shield
of Diomede, and struck against his breastplate, but there stopped
short, without inflicting a wound. "Thou hast no luck to-day, Sir
Pandarus," said Diomede, smiling grimly. "Now see how thou likest the
taste of Grecian steel," and as he spoke he hurled with all his force,
right in the face of Pandarus. The keen point struck him just beneath
the eye, and passing downwards clove through his tongue at the root,
and came out under his chin; and the false Trojan fell with a crash on
the plain, and died as he fell.
Æneas had now but one thought--to save his comrade's body from outrage
at the hands of the Greeks; for it was the cruel custom of those days
to mutilate the bodies of slaughtered enemies. Valiantly he took his
stand, bestriding the fallen Pandarus, holding his shield before him,
and armed with two spears. But Diomede picked up a huge stone, and
flung it at Æneas; and the jagged missile struck him on the hip, just
at the socket of the thigh, bruising the sinews and lacerating the
flesh. Æneas sank down on one knee, sick and giddy with the pain of
that dreadful blow; and that would have been his last hour had not his
goddess mother perceived his evil plight, and come to her son's relief.
Swiftly she flew to the place where he lay, and, throwing her white
arms about him, bore him from the field, covered by the folds of her
robe.
Sthenelus had not forgotten his friend's command, and as soon as he saw
the car of Æneas deserted he made fast the reins of his own steeds to
the chariot rim, and mounting the Trojan car drove at a gallop towards
the rear. Meeting a comrade he gave the captured chariot into his
charge, and returned with all speed to the support of Diomede, who was
in hot pursuit of the tender goddess and her wounded son. Presently he
caught her in the midst of the press, and, thrusting with his spear,
wounded her on the hand, in the thick part of the thumb. The ichor[2]
flowed forth in a purple stream, and stained her immortal vestments,
wrought for her by the Graces; and with a loud shriek she let fall her
son, who was picked up and borne to a place of safety by Apollo.
[2] The blood of the gods was so called.
"Hast thou had enough of war, daughter of Zeus?" shouted Diomede as she
fled; "go and make war on cowardly women--they are thy proper prey."