How Sleep and Hera beguiled Zeus to slumber on the heights of Ida, and
Poseidon spurred on the Achaians to resist Hector, and how Hector was
wounded.
Yet the cry of battle escaped not Nestor, albeit at his wine, but he
spake winged words to the son of Asklepios: “Bethink thee, noble
Machaon, what had best be done; lo, louder waxes the cry of the strong
warriors by the ships. Nay, now sit where thou art, and drink the
bright wine, till Hekamede of the fair tresses shall heat warm water
for the bath, and wash away the clotted blood, but I will speedily go
forth and come to a place of outlook.”
Therewith he took the well-wrought shield of his son, horse-taming
Thrasymedes, which was lying in the hut, all glistering with bronze,
for the son had the shield of his father. And he seized a strong spear,
with a point of keen bronze, and stood outside the hut, and straightway
beheld a deed of shame, the Achaians fleeing in rout, and the
high-hearted Trojans driving them, and the wall of the Achaians was
overthrown. And as when the great sea is troubled with a dumb wave, and
dimly bodes the sudden paths of the shrill winds, but is still unmoved
nor yet rolled forward or to either side, until some steady gale comes
down from Zeus, even so the old man pondered,—his mind divided this way
and that,—whether he should fare into the press of the Danaans of the
swift steeds, or go after Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the
host. And thus as he pondered, it seemed to him the better counsel to
go to the son of Atreus. Meanwhile they were warring and slaying each
other, and the stout bronze rang about their bodies as they were thrust
with swords and double-pointed spears.
Now the kings, the fosterlings of Zeus, encountered Nestor, as they
went up from the ships, even they that were wounded with the bronze,
Tydeus’ son, and Odysseus, and Agamemnon, son of Atreus. For far apart
from the battle were their ships drawn up, on the shore of the grey
sea, for these were the first they had drawn up to the plain, but had
builded the wall in front of the hindmost. For in no wise might the
beach, for as wide as it was, hold all the ships, and the host was
straitened. Wherefore they drew up the ships row within row, and filled
up the wide mouth of all the shore that the headlands held between
them. Therefore the kings were going together, leaning on their spears,
to look on the war and fray, and the heart of each was sore within his
breast. And the old man met them, even Nestor, and caused the spirit to
fail within the breasts of the Achaians.
And mighty Agamemnon spake and accosted him: “O Nestor, son of Neleus,
great glory of the Achaians, wherefore dost thou come hither and hast
deserted the war, the bane of men? Lo, I fear the accomplishment of the
word that dread Hector spake, and the threat wherewith he threatened
us, speaking in the assembly of the Trojans, namely, that never would
he return to Ilios from the ships, till he had burned the ships with
fire, and slain the men. Even so he spake, and, lo, now all these
things are being fulfilled. Alas, surely even the other well-greaved
Achaians store wrath against me in their hearts, like Achilles, and
have no desire to fight by the rearmost ships.”
Then Nestor of Gerenia the knight answered him saying “Verily these
things are now at hand, and being accomplished, nor otherwise could
Zeus himself contrive them, he that thundereth on high. For, lo, the
wall is overthrown, wherein we trusted that it should be an unbroken
bulwark of the ships and of our own bodies. And these men by the swift
ships have endless battle without sparing, and no more couldst thou
tell, howsoever closely thou mightst spy, from what side the Achaians
are driven in rout, so confusedly are they slain, and the cry of battle
goeth up to heaven. But let us take counsel, how these things may best
be done, if wit may do aught: but into the war I counsel not that we
should go down, for in no wise may a wounded man do battle.”
Then Agamemnon king of men answered him again: “Nestor, for that they
are warring by the rearmost ships, and the well-builded wall hath
availed not, nor the trench, whereat the Achaians endured so much
labour, hoping in their hearts that it should be the unbroken bulwark
of the ships, and of their own bodies—such it seemeth must be the will
of Zeus supreme, [that the Achaians should perish here nameless far
from Argos]. For I knew it when he was forward to aid the Danaans, and
now I know that he is giving to the Trojans glory like that of the
blessed gods, and hath bound our hands and our strength. But come, as I
declare, let us all obey. Let us drag down the ships that are drawn up
in the first line near to the sea, and speed them all forth to the salt
sea divine, and moor them far out with stones, till the divine night
comes, if even at night the Trojans will refrain from war, and then
might we drag down all the ships. For there is no shame in fleeing from
ruin, yea, even in the night. Better doth he fare who flees from
trouble, than he that is overtaken.”
Then, looking on him sternly, spake Odysseus of many counsels: “Atreus’
son, what word hath passed the door of thy lips? Man of mischief, sure
thou shouldst lead some other inglorious army, not be king among us, to
whom Zeus hath given it, from youth even unto age, to wind the skein of
grievous wars, till every man of us perish. Art thou indeed so eager to
leave the wide-wayed city of the Trojans, the city for which we endure
with sorrow so many evils? Be silent, lest some other of the Achaians
hear this word, that no man should so much as suffer to pass through
his mouth, none that understandeth in his heart how to speak fit
counsel, none that is a sceptred king, and hath hosts obeying him so
many as the Argives over whom thou reignest. And now I wholly scorn thy
thoughts, such a word as thou hast uttered, thou that, in the midst of
war and battle, dost bid us draw down the well-timbered ships to the
sea, that even more than ever the Trojans may possess their desire,
albeit they win the mastery even now, and sheer destruction fall upon
us. For the Achaians will not make good the war, when the ships are
drawn down to the salt sea, but will look round about to flee, and
withdraw from battle. There will thy counsel work a mischief, O marshal
of the host!”
Then the king of men, Agamemnon, answered him: “Odysseus, right sharply
hast thou touched my heart with thy stern reproof: nay, I do not bid
the sons of the Achaians to drag, against their will, the well-timbered
ships to the salt sea. Now perchance there may be one who will utter a
wiser counsel than this of mine,—a young man or an old,—welcome would
it be to me.”
Then Diomedes of the loud war-cry spake also among them: “The man is
near,—not long shall we seek him, if ye be willing to be persuaded of
me, and each of you be not resentful at all, because in years I am the
youngest among you. Nay, but I too boast me to come by lineage of a
noble sire, Tydeus, whom in Thebes the piled-up earth doth cover. For
Portheus had three well-born children, and they dwelt in Pleuron, and
steep Kalydon, even Agrios and Melas, and the third was Oineus the
knight, the father of my father, and in valour he excelled the others.
And there he abode, but my father dwelt at Argos, whither he had
wandered, for so Zeus and the other gods willed that it should be. And
he wedded one of the daughters of Adrastos, and dwelt in a house full
of livelihood, and had wheat-bearing fields enow, and many orchards of
trees apart, and many sheep were his, and in skill with the spear he
excelled all the Achaians: these things ye must have heard, if I speak
sooth. Therefore ye could not say that I am weak and a coward by
lineage, and so dishonour my spoken counsel, that well I may speak. Let
us go down to the battle, wounded as we are, since we needs must; and
then might we hold ourselves aloof from the battle, beyond the range of
darts, lest any take wound upon wound; but the others will we spur on,
even them that aforetime gave place to their passion, and stand apart,
and fight not.”
So he spake, and they all heard him readily, and obeyed him. And they
set forth, led by Agamemnon the king of men.
Now the renowned Earth-shaker held no vain watch, but went with them in
the guise of an ancient man, and he seized the right hand of Agamemnon,
Atreus’ son, and uttering winged words he spake to him, saying:
“Atreides, now methinks the ruinous heart of Achilles rejoices in his
breast, as he beholds the slaughter and flight of the Achaians, since
he hath no wisdom, not a grain. Nay, even so may he perish likewise,
and god mar him. But with thee the blessed gods are not utterly wroth,
nay, even yet methinks the leaders and rulers of the Trojans will cover
the wide plain with dust, and thyself shalt see them fleeing to the
city from the ships and the huts.”
So spake he, and shouted mightily, as he sped over the plain. And loud
as nine thousand men, or ten thousand cry in battle, when they join the
strife of war, so mighty was the cry that the strong Shaker of the
earth sent forth from his breast, and great strength he put into the
heart of each of the Achaians, to strive and war unceasingly.
Now Hera of the golden throne stood on the peak of Olympus, and saw
with her eyes, and anon knew him that was her brother and her lord’s
going to and fro through the glorious fight, and she rejoiced in her
heart. And she beheld Zeus sitting on the topmost crest of
many-fountained Ida, and to her heart he was hateful. Then she took
thought, the ox-eyed lady Hera, how she might beguile the mind of
aegis-bearing Zeus. And this seemed to her in her heart to be the best
counsel, namely to fare to Ida, when she had well adorned herself, if
perchance he would desire to sleep beside her and embrace her body in
love, and a sweet sleep and a kindly she could pour on his eyelids and
his crafty wits. And she set forth to her bower, that her dear son
Hephaistos had fashioned, and therein had made fast strong doors on the
pillars, with a secret bolt, that no other god might open. There did
she enter in and closed the shining doors. With ambrosia first did she
cleanse every stain from her winsome body, and anointed her with olive
oil, ambrosial, soft, and of a sweet savour; if it were but shaken, in
the bronze-floored mansion of Zeus, the savour thereof went right forth
to earth and heaven. Therewith she anointed her fair body, and combed
her hair, and with her hands plaited her shining tresses, fair and
ambrosial, flowing from her immortal head. Then she clad her in her
fragrant robe that Athene wrought delicately for her, and therein set
many things beautifully made, and fastened it over her breast with
clasps of gold. And she girdled it with a girdle arrayed with a hundred
tassels, and she set earrings in her pierced ears, earrings of three
drops, and glistering, therefrom shone grace abundantly. And with a
veil over all the peerless goddess veiled herself, a fair new veil,
bright as the sun, and beneath her shining feet she bound goodly
sandals. But when she had adorned her body with all her array, she went
forth from her bower, and called Aphrodite apart from the other gods,
and spake to her, saying: “Wilt thou obey me, dear child, in that which
I shall tell thee? or wilt thou refuse, with a grudge in thy heart,
because I succour the Danaans, and thou the Trojans?”
Then Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered her: “Hera, goddess queen,
daughter of mighty Kronos, say the thing that is in thy mind, my heart
bids me fulfil it, if fulfil it I may, and if it may be accomplished.”
Then with crafty purpose the lady Hera answered her: “Give me now Love
and Desire wherewith thou dost overcome all the Immortals, and mortal
men. For I am going to visit the limits of the bountiful Earth, and
Okeanos, father of the gods, and mother Tethys, who reared me well and
nourished me in their halls, having taken me from Rhea, when far-seeing
Zeus imprisoned Kronos beneath the earth and the unvintaged sea. Them
am I going to visit, and their endless strife will I loose, for already
this long time they hold apart from each other, apart from love and the
marriage bed, since wrath hath settled in their hearts. If with words I
might persuade their hearts, and bring them back to love and the
marriage bed, ever should I be called dear to them and worshipful.”
Then laughter-loving Aphrodite answered her again: “It may not be, nor
seemly were it to deny that thou askest, for thou sleepest in the arms
of Zeus, the chief of gods.”
Therewith from her breast she loosed the broidered girdle,
fair-wrought, wherein are all her enchantments; therein are love, and
desire, and loving converse, that steals the wits even of the wise.
This girdle she laid in her hands, and spake, and said: “Lo now, take
this girdle and lay it up in thy bosom, this fair-wrought girdle,
wherein all things are fashioned; methinks thou wilt not return with
that unaccomplished, which in thy heart thou desirest.”
So spake she, and the ox-eyed lady Hera smiled, and smiling laid up the
zone within her breast.
Then the daughter of Zeus, Aphrodite, went to her house, and Hera,
rushing down, left the peak of Olympus, and touched on Pieria and
pleasant Emathia, and sped over the snowy hills of the Thracian
horsemen, even over the topmost crests, nor grazed the ground with her
feet, and from Athos she fared across the foaming sea, and came to
Lemnos, the city of godlike Thoas. There she met Sleep, the brother of
Death, and clasped her hand in his, and spake and called him by name:
“Sleep, lord of all gods and of all men, if ever thou didst hear my
word, obey me again even now, and I will be grateful to thee always.
Lull me, I pray thee, the shining eyes of Zeus beneath his brows, so
soon as I have laid me down by him in love. And gifts I will give to
thee, even a fair throne, imperishable for ever, a golden throne, that
Hephaistos the Lame, mine own child, shall fashion skilfully, and will
set beneath it a footstool for the feet, for thee to set thy shining
feet upon, when thou art at a festival.”
Then sweet Sleep answered her and said: “Hera, goddess and queen,
daughter of mighty Kronos, another of the eternal gods might I lightly
lull to slumber, yea, were it the streams of Okeanos himself, that is
the father of them all. But to Zeus the son of Kronos might I not draw
near, nor lull him to slumber, unless himself commanded it. For ere now
did a behest of thine teach me a lesson, on the day when that famed
high-hearted son of Zeus sailed from Ilios, when he had sacked the city
of the Trojans. Then verily I lulled the soul of aegis-bearing Zeus,
with my sweet influence poured about him, and thou didst contrive evil
against him in thy heart, and didst rouse over the sea the blasts of
violent winds, and Herakles thou then didst bear to well-peopled Kos,
far from all his friends. But Zeus, when he wakened, was wrathful, and
dashed the gods about his mansion, and me above all he sought, and he
would have cast me from the upper air to perish in the deep, if Night
had not saved me, Night, that subdues both gods and men. To her I came
as a suppliant in my flight, and he ceased from pursuing, wrathful as
he was, for he was in awe of doing aught displeasing to swift Night.
And now again thou biddest me accomplish this other task that may not
be accomplished.”
Then the ox-eyed lady Hera answered him again: “Sleep, wherefore dost
thou consider these things in thy heart? dost thou deem that Zeus of
the far-borne voice will succour the Trojans even as he was wroth for
the sake of Herakles, his own child? Nay come, and I will give thee one
of the younger of the Graces, to wed and to be called thy wife [even
Pasithea, that ever thou longest for all thy days].”
So she spake, and Sleep was glad, and answered and said: “Come now,
swear to me by the inviolable water of Styx, and with one of thy hands
grasp the bounteous earth, and with the other the shining sea, that all
may be witnesses to us, even all the gods below that are with Kronos,
that verily thou wilt give me one of the younger of the Graces, even
Pasithea, that myself do long for all my days.”
So spake he, nor did she disobey, the white-armed goddess Hera; she
sware as he bade her, and called all the gods by name, even those below
Tartaros that are called Titans. But when she had sworn and ended that
oath, the twain left the citadel of Lemnos, and of Imbros, clothed on
in mist, and swiftly they accomplished the way. To many-fountained Ida
they came, the mother of wild beasts, to Lekton, where first they left
the sea, and they twain fared above the dry land, and the topmost
forest waved beneath their feet. There Sleep halted, ere the eyes of
Zeus beheld him, and alighted on a tall pine tree, the loftiest pine
that then in all Ida rose through the nether to the upper air. Therein
sat he, hidden by the branches of the pine, in the likeness of the
shrill bird that on the mountains the gods call _chalkis_, but men
_kymindis_.* But Hera swiftly drew nigh to topmost Gargaros, the
highest crest of Ida, and Zeus the cloud-gatherer beheld her. And as he
saw her, so love came over his deep heart, even as when first they
mingled with each other in delight, and went together to the couch,
their dear parents knowing it not. And he stood before her, and spoke,
and said: “Hera, with what desire comest thou thus hither from Olympus,
and thy horses and chariot are not here, whereon thou mightst ascend?”
* The names of Night-jar, Goat-sucker, Doehawk, and Fern-owl are given
in Bewick for this bird, which is really a kind of swift.—R. W. R.
Then with crafty purpose lady Hera answered him: “I am going to visit
the limits of the bountiful Earth, and Okeanos, father of the gods, and
mother Tethys, who reared me well and cherished me in their halls. Them
am I going to visit, and their endless strife will I loose, for already
this long time they hold apart from each other, from love and the
marriage bed, since wrath hath settled in their hearts. But my horses
are standing at the foot of many-fountained Ida, my horses that shall
bear me over wet and dry. And now it is because of thee that I am thus
come hither, down from Olympus, lest perchance thou mightest be wroth
with me hereafter, if silently I were gone to the mansion of
deep-flowing Okeanos.”
Then Zeus, the gatherer of the clouds, answered her and said: “Hera,
thither mayst thou go on a later day. But come let us twain take
pleasure in the bed of love. For never once as thus did the love of
goddess or woman so mightily overflow and conquer the heart within my
breast. Not when I loved the wife of Ixion, who bore Pirithoos, the
peer of gods in counsel, nor when I loved Danae of the fair ankles,
daughter of Akrisios, who bore Perseus, most renowned of all men, nor
when I loved the famed daughter of Phoinix, who bore me Minos, and
godlike Rhadamanthys, nay, nor even when I loved Semele, nor Alkmene in
Thebes, and she bore Herakles, a child hardy of heart, but Semele bore
Dionysos, a delight to mortals, nay, nor when I loved the fair-tressed
queen, Demeter, nor renowned Leto, nay, nor thy very self, as now I
love thee, and sweet desire possesses me.”
And him the lady Hera answered with crafty purpose: “Most dread son of
Kronos, what a word thou hast spoken! If now thou dost long to be
couched in love on the crests of Ida, and all stands plain to view, how
would it be if someone of the eternal gods should see us slumbering,
and go and tell it to all the gods? It is not I that could arise from
the couch and go again to thy house, nay, it would be a thing for
righteous anger. But if thou wilt, and it is dear to thy heart, thou
hast a chamber that thine own son Hephaistos builded, and fastened
strong doors to the pillars, thither let us go and lie down, if the
couch be thy desire.”
Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her and said: “Hera, fear not
lest any god, or any man should spy the thing, so great a golden cloud
will I cast all over thee. Nay, methinks not even the sun might see
through it, the sun, whose light is keenest of all to behold.”
So spake he, and the son of Kronos clasped his consort in his arms. And
beneath them the divine earth sent forth fresh new grass, and dewy
lotus, and crocus, and hyacinth, thick and soft, that raised them aloft
from the ground. Therein they lay, and were clad on with a fair golden
cloud, whence fell drops of glittering dew.
Thus slept the Father in quiet on the crest of Gargaros, by Sleep and
love overcome, with his bedfellow in his arms. But sweet Sleep started
and ran to the ships of the Achaians, to tell his tidings to the god
that holdeth and shaketh the earth. And he stood near him, and spake
winged words: “Eagerly now, Poseidon, do thou aid the Danaans, and give
them glory for a little space, while yet Zeus sleepeth, for over him
have I shed soft slumber, and Hera hath beguiled him to couch in love.”
So he spake, and passed to the renowned tribes of men, and still the
more did he set on Poseidon to aid the Danaans, who straightway sprang
far afront of the foremost, and called to them: “Argives, are we again
to yield the victory to Hector, son of Priam, that he may take our
ships and win renown? Nay, even so he saith and declareth that he will
do, for that Achilles by the hollow ships abides angered at heart. But
for him there will be no such extreme regret, if we spur us on to aid
each the other. Nay come, as I command, let us all obey. Let us harness
us in the best shields that are in the host, and the greatest, and
cover our heads with shining helms, and take the longest spears in our
hands, and so go forth. Yea, and I will lead the way, and methinks that
Hector, son of Priam, will not long await us, for all his eagerness.
And whatsoever man is steadfast in battle, and hath a small buckler on
his shoulder, let him give it to a worse man, and harness him in a
larger shield.”
So spake he, and they heard him eagerly and obeyed him. And them the
kings themselves arrayed, wounded as they were, Tydeus’ son, and
Odysseus, and Agamemnon, son of Atreus. They went through all the host,
and made exchange of weapons of war. The good arms did the good warrior
harness him in, the worse he gave to the worse. But when they had done
on the shining bronze about their bodies, they started on the march,
and Poseidon led them, the Shaker of the earth, with a dread sword of
fine edge in his strong hand, like unto lightning; wherewith it is not
permitted that any should mingle in woful war, but fear holds men afar
therefrom. But the Trojans on the other side was renowned Hector
arraying. Then did they now strain the fiercest strife of war, even
dark-haired Poseidon and glorious Hector, one succouring the Trojans,
the other with the Argives. And the sea washed up to the huts and ships
of the Argives, and they gathered together with a mighty cry. Not so
loudly bellows the wave of the sea against the land, stirred up from
the deep by the harsh breath of the north wind, nor so loud is the roar
of burning fire in the glades of a mountain, when it springs to burn up
the forest, nor calls the wind so loudly in the high leafy tresses of
the trees, when it rages and roars its loudest, as then was the cry of
the Trojans and Achaians, shouting dreadfully as they rushed upon each
other.
First glorious Hector cast with his spear at Aias, who was facing him
full, and did not miss, striking him where two belts were stretched
across his breast, the belt of his shield, and of his silver-studded
sword; these guarded his tender flesh. And Hector was enraged because
his swift spear had flown vainly from his hand, and he retreated into
the throng of his fellows, avoiding Fate.
Then as he was departing the great Telamonian Aias smote him with a
huge stone; for many stones, the props of swift ships, were rolled
among the feet of the fighters; one of these he lifted, and smote
Hector on the breast, over the shield-rim, near the neck, and made him
spin like a top with the blow, that he reeled round and round. And even
as when an oak falls uprooted beneath the stroke of father Zeus, and a
dread savour of brimstone arises therefrom, and whoso stands near and
beholds it has no more courage, for dread is the bolt of great Zeus,
even so fell mighty Hector straightway in the dust. And the spear fell
from his hand, but his shield and helm were made fast to him, and round
him rang his arms adorned with bronze.
Then with a loud cry they ran up, the sons of the Achaians, hoping to
drag him away, and they cast showers of darts. But not one availed to
wound or smite the shepherd of the host, before that might be the
bravest gathered about him, Polydamas, and Aineias, and goodly Agenor,
and Sarpedon, leader of the Lykians, and noble Glaukos, and of the rest
not one was heedless of him, but they held their round shields in front
of him, and his comrades lifted him in their arms, and bare him out of
the battle, till he reached his swift horses that were standing waiting
for him, with the charioteer and the fair-dight chariot at the rear of
the combat and the war. These toward the city bore him heavily moaning.
Now when they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, of eddying
Xanthos, that immortal Zeus begat, there they lifted him from the
chariot to the ground, and poured water over him, and he gat back his
breath, and looked up with his eyes, and sitting on his heels kneeling,
he vomited black blood. Then again he sank back on the ground, and
black night covered his eyes, the stroke still conquering his spirit.
Now the Argives when they saw Hector departed rushed yet the more upon
the Trojans, and were mindful of the delight of battle. There far the
foremost did swift Aias, son of Oileus, leap on Satnios, son of Enops,
and wounded him with his sharp spear; Satnios whom the fair Naiad-nymph
bore to Enops as he herded his flocks by the banks of Satnioeis. Him
did the spear-famed son of Oileus draw nigh, and wounded him on the
flank, and he fell, and round him did Trojans and Danaans join in
strong battle. Then to his aid came Polydamas, the wielder of the
spear, son of Panthoos, and smote Prothoenor on the right shoulder,
Prothoenor, son of Areïlykos, and through his shoulder went the mighty
spear, and he fell in the dust, and clutched the earth with his palm.
And Polydamas boasted over him terribly, crying aloud: “Verily methinks
that again from the strong hand of the high-hearted son of Panthoos,
the spear hath not leaped in vain. Nay, one of the Argives hath caught
it in his flesh, and leaning thereon for a staff, methinks that he will
go down within the house of Hades.”
So spake he, and sorrow came on the Argives by reason of his boasting.
And chiefly he roused the wrath of the wise son of Telamon, Aias, for
the man fell close by him. Swiftly he cast at the other, as he
departed, with his shining spear. And Polydamas himself avoided black
Fate, starting to one side, but Archelochos, son of Antenor, received
the spear, for the gods had willed his death. Him the spear struck at
the meeting of the head and neck, on the last joint of the spine, and
cut in twain both the tendons. And his head, and mouth, and nose, as he
fell, reached the earth long before his legs and knees, and Aias again
shouted to noble Polydamas: “Consider, Polydamas, and tell me truly,
whether thou sayst not that this man is worth slaying in place of
Prothoenor: he seems to me no coward, nor born of cowards, but a
brother of horse-taming Antenor, or a child, for he most closely
favoureth his house.”
So he spake, knowing the truth right well, and sorrow seized the hearts
of the Trojans. Then Akamas wounded Promachos the Boiotian with his
spear, from where he stood above his brother, that Promachos was
dragging away by the feet. Over him Akamas boasted terribly, shouting
aloud: “Ye Argive bowmen, insatiate of threats, verily not for us alone
shall there be struggle and toil, nay, but even as we shall ye likewise
perish. Consider how your Promachos sleepeth, vanquished by my spear,
that my brother’s blood-price may not be long unpaid. Even for this it
is that a man may well pray to leave some kinsman in his halls, that
will avenge his fall.”
So he spake, and sorrow came on the Argives at his boast. And chiefly
he stirred the heart of the wise Peneleos, who made for Akamas, and
Akamas abode not the onset of the prince Peneleos. But Peneleos wounded
Ilioneus, the son of Phorbas, rich in herds, that Hermes loved most
dearly of all the Trojans, and gave him wealth. Now his mother bare
Ilioneus, an only child, to Phorbas. Him did Peneleos wound beneath the
brows, at the bases of the eye, and drave out the eyeball, and the
spear went clean through the eye and through the nape of the neck, and
he fell back, stretching out both his hands. And Peneleos, drawing
forth his sharp sword, smote him on the middle of the neck, and smote
off even to the ground the head with the helmet, and still the strong
spear stood in the eye, and lifting it up like a poppy head, he showed
it to the Trojans, and spoke his boastful words: “Ye Trojans, I pray
you bid the dear father and the mother of proud Ilioneus to wail in
their halls, for neither will the wife of Promachos, son of Alegenor,
rejoice in her dear husband’s coming, in that hour when we youths of
the Achaians return with our ships out of Troy-land.”
So he spake, and fear fell on the limbs of all of them; and each man
looked about to see where he might flee sheer destruction.
Tell me now, ye Muses, that dwell in the mansions of Olympus, who was
the first of the Achaians to lift the bloody spoils, when once the
renowned Shaker of the earth turned the battle.
Verily it was Aias, son of Telamon, that first wounded Hyrtios, the son
of Gyrtias, the leader of the Mysians strong of heart, and Antilochos
stripped the spoils from Phalkes and Mermeros, and Meriones slew Morys
and Hippotion, and Teukros slew Prothoon and Periphetes, and next
Atreus’ son wounded in the flank Hyperenor, the shepherd of the host,
and the bronze point tore through and let out the entrails, and the
soul through the stricken wound fled hastily, and darkness covered his
eyes. But most men did Aias slay, the swift-footed son of Oileus, for
there was none so speedy of foot as he, to follow when men fled, when
Zeus sent terror among them.