Of the funeral of Patroklos, and the funeral games.
Thus they throughout the city made moan: but the Achaians when they
were come to the ships and to the Hellespont were scattered each to his
own ship: only the Myrmidons Achilles suffered not to be scattered, but
spake among his comrades whose delight was in war: “Fleet-horsed
Myrmidons, my trusty comrades, let us not yet unyoke our whole-hooved
steeds from their cars, but with horses and chariots let us go near and
mourn Patroklos, for such is the honour of the dead. Then when we have
our fill of grievous wailing, we will unyoke the horses and all sup
here.”
He said, and they with one accord made lamentation, and Achilles led
their mourning. So thrice around the dead they drave their well-maned
steeds, moaning; and Thetis stirred among them desire of wailing.
Bedewed were the sands with tears, bedewed the warriors’ arms; so great
a lord of fear they sorrowed for. And Peleus’ son led their loud wail,
laying his man-slaying hands on his comrade’s breast: “All hail,
Patroklos, even in the house of Hades; for all that I promised thee
before am I accomplishing, seeing I have dragged hither Hector to give
raw unto dogs to devour, and twelve noble children of the Trojans to
slaughter before thy pyre, because of mine anger at thy slaying.”
He said, and devised foul entreatment of noble Hector, stretching him
prone in the dust beside the bier of Menoitios’ son. And the rest put
off each his glittering bronze arms, and unyoked their high-neighing
horses, and sate them down numberless beside the ship of fleet-footed
Aiakides, and he gave them ample funeral feast. Many sleek oxen were
stretched out, their throats cut with steel, and many sheep and
bleating goats, and many white-tusked boars well grown in fat were
spitted to singe in the flame of Hephaistos; so on all sides round the
corpse in cupfuls blood was flowing.
But the fleet-footed prince, the son of Peleus, was brought to noble
Agamemnon by the Achaian chiefs, hardly persuading him thereto, for his
heart was wroth for his comrade. And when they were come to Agamemnon’s
hut, forthwith they bade clear-voiced heralds set a great tripod on the
fire, if haply they might persuade the son of Peleus to wash from him
the bloody gore. But he denied them steadfastly, and sware moreover an
oath: “Nay, verily by Zeus, who is highest and best of gods, not lawful
is it that water should come nigh my head or ever I shall have laid
Patroklos on the fire, and heaped a barrow, and shaved my hair, since
never again shall second grief thus reach my heart, while I remain
among the living. Yet now for the present let us yield us to our
mournful meal: but with the morning, O king of men Agamemnon, rouse the
folk to bring wood and furnish all that it beseemeth a dead man to have
when he goeth beneath the misty gloom, to the end that untiring fire
may burn him quickly from sight, and the host betake them to their
work.”
Thus spake he, and they listened readily to him and obeyed, and eagerly
making ready each his meal they supped, and no lack had their soul of
equal feast. But when they had put off from them the desire of meat and
drink, the rest went down each man to his tent to take his rest, but
the son of Peleus upon the beach of the sounding sea lay groaning
heavily, amid the host of Myrmidons, in an open place, where waves were
breaking on the shore. Now when sleep took hold on him, easing the
cares of his heart, deep sleep that fell about him, (for sore tired
were his glorious knees with onset upon Hector toward windy Ilios),
then came there unto him the spirit of hapless Patroklos, in all things
like his living self, in stature, and fair eyes, and voice, and the
raiment of his body was the same; and he stood above Achilles’ head and
spake to him: “Thou sleepest, and hast forgotten me, O Achilles. Not in
my life wast thou ever unmindful of me, but in my death. Bury me with
all speed, that I pass the gates of Hades. Far off the spirits banish
me, the phantoms of men outworn, nor suffer me to mingle with them
beyond the River, but vainly I wander along the wide-gated dwelling of
Hades. Now give me, I pray pitifully of thee, thy hand, for never more
again shall I come back from Hades, when ye have given me my due of
fire. Never among the living shall we sit apart from our dear comrades
and take counsel together, but me hath the harsh fate swallowed up
which was appointed me even from my birth. Yea and thou too thyself,
Achilles peer of gods, beneath the wall of the noble Trojans art doomed
to die. Yet one thing will I say, and charge thee, if haply thou wilt
have regard thereto. Lay not my bones apart from thine, Achilles, but
together, even as we were nurtured in your house, when Menoitios
brought me yet a little one from Opoeis to your country by reason of a
grievous man-slaying, on the day when I slew Amphidamas’ son, not
willing it, in childish wrath over the dice. Then took me the knight
Peleus into his house and reared me kindly and named me thy squire: so
therefore let one coffer hide our bones [a golden coffer, two handled,
thy lady mother’s gift].”
Then made answer unto him Achilles fleet of foot: “Wherefore, O my
brother, hast thou come hither, and chargest me everything that I
should do? Verily I will accomplish all, and have regard unto thy
bidding. But stand more nigh me; for one moment let us throw our arms
around each other, and take our fill of dolorous lament.”
He spake, and reached forth with his hands, but clasped him not; for
like a vapour the spirit was gone beneath the earth with a faint
shriek. And Achilles sprang up marvelling, and smote his hands
together, and spake a word of woe: “Ay me, there remaineth then even in
the house of Hades a spirit and phantom of the dead, albeit the life be
not anywise therein: for all night long hath the spirit of hapless
Patroklos stood over me, wailing and making moan, and charged me
everything that I should do, and wondrous like his living self it
seemed.”
Thus said he, and stirred in all of them yearning to make lament; and
rosy-fingered Morn shone forth on them while they still made moan
around the piteous corpse. Then lord Agamemnon sped mules and men from
all the huts to fetch wood; and a man of valour watched thereover, even
Meriones, squire of kindly Idomeneus. And they went forth with
wood-cutting axes in their hands and well-woven ropes, and before them
went the mules, and uphill and downhill and sideways and across they
went. But when they came to the spurs of many-fountained Ida,
straightway they set them lustily to hew high-foliaged oaks with the
long-edged bronze, and with loud noise fell the trees. Then splitting
them asunder the Achaians bound them behind the mules, and they tore up
the earth with their feet as they made for the plain through the thick
underwood. And all the wood-cutters bare logs; for thus bade Meriones,
squire of kindly Idomeneus. And on the Shore they threw them down in
line, where Achilles purposed a mighty tomb for Patroklos and for
himself.
Then when they had laid down all about great piles of wood, they sate
them down all together and abode. Then straightway Achilles bade the
warlike Myrmidons gird on their arms and each yoke the horses to his
chariot; and they arose and put their armour on, and mounted their
chariots, both fighting men and charioteers. In front were the men in
chariots, and a cloud of footmen followed after, numberless; and in the
midst his comrades bare Patroklos. And they heaped all the corpse with
their hair that they cut off and threw thereon; and behind did goodly
Achilles bear the head, sorrowing; for a noble comrade was he speeding
forth unto the realm of Hades.
And when they came to the place where Achilles had bidden them, they
set down the dead, and piled for him abundant wood. Then fleet-footed
noble Achilles bethought him of one thing more: standing apart from the
pyre he shore off a golden lock, the lock whose growth he nursed to
offer unto the River Spercheios, and sore troubled spake be, looking
forth over the wine-dark sea: “Spercheios, in other wise vowed my
father Peleus unto thee that I returning thither to my native land
should shear my hair for thee and offer a holy hecatomb, and fifty rams
should sacrifice there above thy springs, where is the sacred close and
altar burning spice. So vowed the old man, but thou hast not
accomplished him his desire. And now since I return not to my dear
native land, unto the hero Patroklos I may give this hair to take
away.”
Thus saying he set the hair in the hands of his dear comrade, and
stirred in all of them yearning to make lament. And so would the light
of the sun have gone down on their lamentation, had not Achilles said
quickly to Agamemnon as he stood beside him: “Son of Atreus—for to thy
words most will the host of the Achaians have regard—of lamentation
they may sate them to the full. But now disperse them from the burning
and bid them make ready their meal, and we to whom the dead is dearest
will take pains for these things; yet let the chiefs tarry nigh unto
us.”
Then when Agamemnon king of men heard that, he forthwith dispersed the
host among the trim ships, but the nearest to the dead tarried there
and piled the wood, and made a pyre a hundred feet this way and that,
and on the pyre’s top set the corpse, with anguish at their hearts. And
many lusty sheep and shambling crook-horned oxen they flayed and made
ready before the pyre; and taking from all of them the fat, great
hearted Achilles wrapped the corpse therein from head to foot, and
heaped the flayed bodies round. And he set therein two-handled jars of
honey and oil, leaning them against the bier; and four strong-necked
horses he threw swiftly on the pyre, and groaned aloud. Nine house-dogs
had the dead chief: of them did Achilles slay twain and throw them on
the pyre. And twelve valiant sons of great-hearted Trojans he slew with
the sword—for he devised mischief in his heart and he set to the
merciless might of the fire, to feed thereon. Then moaned he aloud, and
called on his dear comrade by his name: “All hail to thee, O Patroklos,
even in the house of Hades, for all that I promised thee before am I
now accomplishing. Twelve valiant sons of great-hearted Trojans, behold
these all in company with thee the fire devoureth: but Hector son of
Priam will I nowise give to the fire to feed upon, but to dogs.”
Thus spake he threatening, but no dogs might deal with Hector, for day
and night Aphrodite daughter of Zeus kept off the dogs, and anointed
him with rose-sweet oil ambrosial that Achilles might not tear him when
he dragged him. And over him Phoebus Apollo brought a dark cloud from
heaven to earth and covered all that place whereon the dead man lay,
lest meanwhile the sun’s strength shrivel his flesh round about upon
his sinews and limbs.
But the pyre of dead Patroklos kindled not. Then fleet-footed noble
Achilles had a further thought: standing aside from the pyre he prayed
to the two Winds of North and West, and promised them fair offerings,
and pouring large libations from a golden cup besought them to come,
that the corpses might blaze up speedily in the fire, and the wood make
haste to be enkindled. Then Iris, when she heard his prayer, went
swiftly with the message to the Winds. They within the house of the
gusty West Wind were feasting all together at meat, when Iris sped
thither, and halted on the threshold of stone. And when they saw her
with their eyes, they sprang up and called to her every one to sit by
him. But she refused to sit, and spake her word: “No seat for me; I
must go back to the streams of Ocean, to the Ethiopians’ land where
they sacrifice hecatombs to the immortal gods, that I too may feast at
their rites. But Achilles is praying the North Wind and the loud West
to come, and promising them fair offerings, that ye may make the pyre
be kindled whereon lieth Patroklos, for whom all the Achaians are
making moan.”
She having thus said departed, and they arose with a mighty sound,
rolling the clouds before them. And swiftly they came blowing over the
sea, and the wave rose beneath their shrill blast; and they came to
deep-soiled Troy, and fell upon the pile, and loudly roared the mighty
fire. So all night drave they the flame of the pyre together, blowing
shrill; and all night fleet Achilles, holding a two-handled cup, drew
wine from a golden bowl, and poured it forth and drenched the earth,
calling upon the spirit of hapless Patroklos. As a father waileth when
he burneth the bones of his son, new-married, whose death is woe to his
hapless parents, so wailed Achilles as he burnt the bones of his
comrade, going heavily round the burning pile, with many moans.
But at the hour when the Morning star goeth forth to herald light upon
the earth, the star that saffron-mantled Dawn cometh after, and
spreadeth over the salt sea, then grew the burning faint, and the flame
died down. And the Winds went back again to betake them home over the
Thracian main, and it roared with a violent swell. Then the son of
Peleus turned away from the burning and lay down wearied, and sweet
sleep leapt on him. But they who were with Atreus’ son gathered all
together, and the noise and clash of their approach aroused him; and he
sate upright and spake a word to them: “Son of Atreus and ye other
chiefs of the Achaians, first quench with gleaming wine all the burning
so far as the fire’s strength hath reached, and then let us gather up
the bones of Patroklos, Menoitios’ son, singling them well, and easy
are they to discern, for he lay in the middle of the pyre, while the
rest apart at the edge burnt-confusedly, horses and men. And his bones
let us put within a golden urn, and double-folded fat, until that I
myself be hidden in Hades. But no huge barrow I bid you toil to raise—a
seemly one, no more: then afterward do ye Achaians build it broad and
high, whosoever of you after I am gone may be left in the benched
ships.”
Thus spake he, and they hearkened to the fleet-footed son of Peleus.
First quenched they with gleaming wine the burning so far as the flame
went, and the ash had settled deep: then with lamentation they gathered
up the white bones of their gentle comrade into a golden urn and
double-folded fat, and placed the urn in the hut and covered it with a
linen veil. And they marked the circle of the barrow, and set the
foundations thereof around the pyre, and straightway heaped thereon a
heap of earth. Then when they had heaped up the barrow they were for
going back. But Achilles stayed the folk in that place, and made them
sit in wide assembly, and from his ships he brought forth prizes,
caldrons and tripods, and horses and mules and strong oxen, and
fair-girdled women, and grey iron.
First for fleet chariot-racers he ordained a noble prize, a woman
skilled in fair handiwork for the winner to lead home, and an eared
tripod that held two-and-twenty measures; these for the first man; and
for the second he ordained a six-year-old mare unbroke with a mule foal
in her womb; and for the third he gave a goodly caldron yet untouched
by fire, holding four measures, bright as when first made; and for the
fourth he ordained two talents of gold; and for the fifth a two-handled
urn untouched of fire, Then he stood up and spake a word among the
Argives: “Son of Atreus and ye other well-greaved Achaians, for the
chariot-racers these prizes lie awaiting them in the lists. If in some
other’s honour we Achaians were now holding our games, it would be I
who should win the first prize and bear it to my hut; for ye know how
far my pair of horses are first in excellence, for they are immortal
and Poseidon gave them to my father Peleus, and he again to me. But
verily I will abide, I and my whole-hooved horses, so glorious a
charioteer have they lost, and one so kind, who on their manes full
often poured smooth oil, when he had washed them in clear water. For
him they stand and mourn, and their manes are trailing on the ground,
and there stand they with sorrow at their hearts. But ye others
throughout the host get ye to your places, whosoever of the Achalans
hath trust in his horses and firm-jointed car.”
Thus spake the son of Peleus, and the fleet chariot-racers were
gathered. First of all arose up Eumelos king of men, Admetos’ son, a
skilful charioteer; and next to him arose Tydeus’ son, valiant
Diomedes, and yoked his horses of the breed of Tros, which on a time he
seized from Aineias, when Apollo saved their lord. And after him arose
Atreus’ son, fair-haired heaven-sprung Menelaos, and yoked him a swift
pair Aithe, Agamemnon’s mare, and his own horse Podargos. Her unto
Agamemnon did Anchises’ son Echepolos give in fee, that he might escape
from following him to windy Ilios and take his pleasure at home; for
great wealth had Zeus given him, and he dwelt in Sikyon of spacious
lawns:— so Menelaos yoked her, and she longed exceedingly for the race.
And fourth, Antilochos made ready his fair-maned horses, even the noble
son of Nestor, high-hearted king, who was the son of Neleus; and fleet
horses bred at Pylos drew his car. And his father standing by his side
spake counselling him to his profit, though himself was well advised:
“Antilochos, verily albeit thou art young, Zeus and Poseidon have loved
thee and taught thee all skill with horses; wherefore to teach thee is
no great need, for thou well knowest how to wheel round the post; yet
are thy horses very slow in the race: therefore methinks there will be
sad work for thee. For the horses of the others are fleeter, yet the
men know not more cunning than thou hast. So come, dear son, store thy
mind with all manner of cunning, that the prize escape thee not. By
cunning is a woodman far better than by force; by cunning doth a
helmsman on the wine-dark deep steer his swift ship buffeted by winds;
by cunning hath charioteer the better of charioteer. For whoso trusting
in his horses and car alone wheeleth heedlessly and wide at either end,
his horses swerve on the course, and he keepeth them not in hand. But
whoso is of crafty mind, though he drive worse horses, he ever keeping
his eye upon the post turneth closely by it, neither is unaware how far
at first to force his horses by the ox-hide reins, but holdeth them
safe in hand and watcheth the leader in the race. Now will I tell thee
a certain sign, and it shall not escape thee. A fathom’s height above
the ground standeth a withered stump, whether of oak or pine: it
decayeth not in the rain, and two white stones on either side thereof
are fixed at the joining of the track, and all round it is smooth
driving ground. Whether it be a monument of some man dead long ago, or
have been made their goal in the race by ancient men, this now is the
mark fixed by fleet-footed Achilles. Wherefore do thou drive close and
bear thy horses and chariot hard thereon, and lean thy body on the
well-knit car slightly to their left, and call upon the off-horse with
voice and lash, and give him rein from thy hand. But let the near horse
hug the post so that the nave of the well-wrought wheel seem to graze
it—yet beware of touching the stone, lest thou wound the horses and
break the chariot; so would that be triumph to the rest and reproach
unto thyself. But, dear son, be wise and on thy guard; for if at the
turning-post thou drive past the rest, there is none shall overtake
thee from behind or pass thee by, not though he drave the goodly Arion
in pursuit, the fleet horse of Adrastos, of divine descent, or the
horses of Laomedon, best of all bred in this land.”
Thus spake Neleian Nestor and sate him down again in his place, when he
had told his son the sum of every matter.
And Meriones was the fifth to make ready his sleek-coated steeds. Then
went they up into their chariots, and cast in the lots: and Achilles
shook them, and forth leapt the lot of Antilochos Nestor’s son, and the
next lot had lord Eumelos, and next to him the son of Atreus,
spear-famed Menelaos, and next to him drew Meriones his place; then
lastly Tydeides, far the best of all, drew his lot for his chariot’s
place. Then they stood side by side, and Achilles showed to them the
turning post, far off in the smooth plain; and beside it he placed an
umpire, godlike Phoinix, his father’s follower, that he might note the
running and tell the truth thereof.
Then all together lifted the lash above their steeds, and smote them
with the reins, and called on them eagerly with words: and they
forthwith sped swiftly over the plain, leaving the ships behind; and
beneath their breasts stood the rising dust like a cloud or whirlwind,
and their manes waved on the blowing wind. And the chariots ran
sometimes on the bounteous earth, and other whiles would bound into the
air. And the drivers stood in the cars, and the heart of every man beat
in desire of victory, and they called every man to his horses, that
flew amid their dust across the plain.
But when the fleet horses were now running the last part of the course,
back toward the grey sea, then was manifest the prowess of each, and
the horses strained in the race; and presently to the front rushed the
fleet mares of Pheres’ grandson, and next to them Diomedes’ stallions
of the breed of Tros, not far apart, but hard anigh, for they seemed
ever as they would mount Eumelos’ car, and with their breath his back
was warm and his broad shoulders, for they bent their heads upon him as
they flew along. Thus would Tydeus’ son have either outstripped the
other or made it a dead heat, had not Phoebus Apollo been wroth with
him and smitten from his hand the shining lash. Then from his eyes ran
tears of anger, for that he saw the mares still at speed, even
swiftlier than before, while his own horses were thrown out, as running
without spur. But Athene was not unaware of Apollo’s guile against
Tydeides, and presently sped after the shepherd of hosts, and gave him
back the lash, and put spirit into his steeds. Then in wrath after the
son of Admetos was the goddess gone, and brake his steeds’ yoke, and
the mares ran sideways off the course, and the pole was twisted to the
ground. And Eumelos was hurled out of the car beside the wheel, and his
elbows and mouth and nose were flayed, and his forehead bruised above
his eyebrows; and his eyes filled with tears and his lusty voice was
choked. Then Tydeides held his whole-hooved horses on one side, darting
far out before the rest, for Athene put spirit into his steeds and shed
glory on himself. Now next after him came golden-haired Menelaos
Atreus’ son. But Antilochos called to his father’s horses: “Go ye too
in, strain to your fleetest pace. Truly I nowise bid you strive with
those, the horses of wise Tydeides, unto which Athene hath now given
speed, and shed glory on their charioteer. But overtake Atreides’
horses with all haste, and be not outstripped by them, lest Aithe that
is but a mare pour scorn on you. Why are ye outstripped, brave steeds?
Thus will I tell you, and verily it shall be brought to pass—ye will
find no tendance with Nestor shepherd of hosts, but straightway he will
slay you with the edge of the sword if through heedlessness we win but
the worse prize. Have after them at your utmost speed, and I for my
part will devise a plan to pass them in the strait part of the course,
and this shall fail me not.”
Thus spake he, and they fearing the voice of the prince ran swiftlier
some little while; and presently did the good warrior Antilochos espy a
strait place in a sunk part of the way. There was a rift in the earth,
where torrent water gathered and brake part of the track away, and
hollowed all the place; there drave Menelaos, shunning the encounter of
the wheels. But Antilochos turned his whole-hooved horses out of the
track, and followed him a little at one side. And the son of Atreus
took alarm and shouted to Antilochos: “Antilochos, thou art driving
recklessly—hold in thy horses! The road is straitened, soon thou mayest
pass me in a wider place, lest thou foul my chariot and undo us both.”
Thus spake he, but Antilochos drave even fiercelier than before, plying
his lash, as though he heard him not. As far as is the range of a disk
swung from the shoulder when a young man hurleth it, making trial of
his force, even so far ran they on; then the mares of Atreus’ son gave
back, for he ceased of himself to urge them on, lest the whole-hooved
steeds should encounter on the track, and overset the well-knit cars,
and the drivers fall in the dust in their zeal for victory. So
upbraiding Antilochos spake golden-haired Menelaos: “Antilochos, no
mortal man is more malicious than thou. Go thy mad way, since falsely
have we Achaians called thee wise. Yet even so thou shalt not bear off
the prize unchallenged to an oath.”
Thus saying he called aloud to his horses: “Hold ye not back nor stand
still with sorrow at heart. Their feet and knees will grow weary before
yours, for they both lack youth.”
Thus spake he, and they fearing the voice of the prince sped faster on,
and were quickly close upon the others.
Now the Argives sitting in concourse were gazing at the horses, and
they came flying amid their dust over the plain. And the first aware of
them was Idomeneus, chief of the Cretans, for he was sitting outside
the concourse in the highest place of view, and when he heard the voice
of one that shouted, though afar off, he knew it; and he was aware of a
horse showing plainly in the front, a chestnut all the rest of him, but
in the forehead marked with a white star round like the moon. And he
stood upright and spoke among the Argives: “Friends, chiefs, and
counsellors of the Argives, is it I alone who see the horses, or do ye
also? A new pair seem to me now to be in front, and a new charioteer
appeareth; the mares which led in the outward course must have been
thrown out there in the plain. For I saw them turning first the hither
post, but now can see them nowhere, though my eyes are gazing
everywhere along the Trojan plain. Did the reins escape the charioteer
so that he could not drive aright round the post and failed in the
turn? There, methinks, must he have been cast forth, and have broken
his chariot, and the mares must have left the course, in the wildness
of their heart. But stand up ye too and look, for myself I discern not
certainly, but the first man seemeth to me one of Aitolian race, and he
ruleth among Argives, the son of horse-taming Tydeus, stalwart
Diomedes.”
Then fleet Aias Oileus’ son rebuked him in unseemly sort: “Idomeneus,
why art thou a braggart of old? As yet far off the high-stepping mares
are coursing over the wide plain. Neither art thou so far the youngest
among the Argives, nor do thy eyes look so far the keenliest from thy
head, yet continually braggest thou. It beseemeth thee not to be a
braggart, for there are here better men. And the mares leading are they
that led before, Eumelos’ mares, and he standeth and holdeth the reins
within the car.”
Then wrathfully in answer spake the chief of Cretans: “Aias, master of
railing, ill-counselled, in all else art thou behind other Argives, for
thy mind is unfriendly. Come then let us wager a tripod or caldron, and
make Agamemnon Atreus’ son our umpire, which mares are leading, that
thou mayest pay and learn.”
Thus said he, and straightway fleet Aias Oileus’ son arose angrily to
answer with harsh words: and strife between the twain would have gone
further, had not Achilles himself stood up and spake a word: “No longer
answer each other with harsh words, Aias and Idomeneus, ill words, for
it beseemeth not. Surely ye are displeased with any other who should do
thus. Sit ye in the concourse and keep your eyes upon the horses; soon
they in zeal for victory will come hither, and then shall ye know each
of you the Argives’ horses, which follow, and which lead.”
He said, and the son of Tydeus came driving up, and with his lash smote
now and again from the shoulder, and his horses were stepping high as
they sped swiftly on their way. And sprinklings of dust smote ever the
charioteer, and his chariot overlaid with gold and tin ran behind his
fleet-footed steeds, and small trace was there of the wheel-tires
behind in the fine dust, as they flew speeding on. Then he drew up in
the mid concourse, and much sweat poured from the horses’ heads and
chests to the ground. And Diomedes leapt to earth from the shining car,
and leant his lash against the yoke. Then stalwart Sthenelos tarried
not, but promptly took the prize, and gave to his proud comrades the
woman to lead and the eared tripod to bear away, and he loosed the
horses from the yoke.
And next after him drave Neleian Antilochos his horses, by craft, not
swiftness, having passed by Menelaos; yet even now Menelaos held his
swift steeds hard anigh. As far as a horse is from the wheel, which
draweth his master, straining with the car over the plain—his hindmost
tail-hairs touch the tire, for the wheel runneth hard anigh nor is much
space between, as he speedeth far over the plain—by so much was
Menelaos behind high-born Antilochos, howbeit at first he was a whole
disk-cast behind, but quickly he was catching Antilochos up, for the
high mettle of Agamemnon’s mare, sleek-coated Aithe, was rising in her.
And if yet further both had had to run he would have passed his rival
nor left it even a dead heat. But Meriones, stout squire of Idomeneus,
came in a spear-throw behind famous Menelaos, for tardiest of all were
his sleek-coated horses, and slowest he himself to drive a chariot in
the race. Last of them all came Admetos’ son, dragging his goodly car
driving his steeds in front. Him when fleet-footed noble Achilles
beheld he pitied him, and he stood up and spake winged words among the
Argives: “Last driveth his whole-hooved horses the best man of them
all. But come let us give him a prize, as is seemly, prize for the
second place, but the first let the son of Tydeus take.”
Thus spake he, and all applauded that he bade. And he would have given
him the mare, for the Achaians applauded, had not Antilochos, son of
great-hearted Nestor; risen up and answered Peleian Achilles on behalf
of his right: “O Achilles, I shall be sore angered with thee if thou
accomplish this word, for thou art minded to take away my prize,
because thou thinkest of how his chariot and fleet steeds miscarried,
and himself withal, good man though he be. Nay, it behoved him to pray
to the Immortals, then would he not have come in last of all in the
race. But if thou pitiest him and he be dear to thy heart, there is
much gold in thy hut, bronze is there and sheep, hand-maids are there
and whole-hooved horses. Thereof take thou and give unto him afterward
even a richer prize, or even now at once, that the Achaians may applaud
thee. But the mare I will not yield; for her let what man will essay
the battle at my hands.”
Thus spake he, and fleet-footed noble Achilles smiled, pleased with
Antilochos, for he was his dear comrade; and spake in answer to him
winged words: “Antilochos, if thou wouldst have me give Eumelos some
other thing beside from out my house, that also will I do. I will give
unto him a breast-plate that I took from Asteropaios, of bronze,
whereon a casting of bright tin is overlaid, and of great worth will it
be to him.” He said, and bade his dear comrade Automedon bring it from
the hut, and he went and brought it. [Then he placed it in Eumelos’
hands, and he received it gladly.]
But Menelaos also arose among them, sore at heart, angered exceedingly
against Antilochos; and the herald set the staff in his hand, and
called for silence among the Argives; then spake among them that
godlike man: “Antilochos, who once wert wise, what thing is this thou
hast done? Thou hast shamed my skill and made my horses fail, thrusting
thine own in front that are far worse. Come now, ye chiefs and
counsellors of the Argives, give judgment between us both, and favour
neither: lest some one of the mail-clad Achalans say at any time: ‘By
constraining Antilochos through false words hath Menelaos gone off with
the mare, for his horses were far worse, howbeit he hath advantage in
rank and power.’ Nay, I myself will bring the issue about, and I deem
that none other of the Danaans shall reproach me, for the trial shall
be just. Antilochos, fosterling of Zeus, come thou hither and as it is
ordained stand up before thy horses and chariot and take in thy hand
the pliant lash wherewith thou dravest erst, and touching thy horses
swear by the Enfolder and Shaker of the earth that not wilfully didst
thou hinder my chariot by guile.”
Then answered him wise Antilochos: “Bear with me now, for far younger
am I than thou, king Menelaos, and thou art before me and my better.
Thou knowest how a young man’s transgressions come about, for his mind
is hastier and his counsel shallow. So let thy heart suffer me, and I
will of myself give to thee the mare I have taken. Yea, if thou
shouldst ask some other greater thing from my house, I were fain to
give it thee straightway, rather than fall for ever from my place in
thy heart, O fosterling of Zeus, and become a sinner against the gods.”
Thus spake great-hearted Nestor’s son, and brought the mare and put her
in the hand of Menelaos. And his heart was gladdened as when the dew
cometh upon the ears of ripening harvest-corn, what time the fields are
bristling. So gladdened was thy soul, Menelaos, within thy heart. And
he spake unto Antilochos and uttered winged words: “Antilochos, now
will I of myself put away mine anger against thee, since no wise
formerly wert thou flighty or light-minded, howbeit now thy reason was
overcome of youthfulness. Another time be loth to outwit better men.
Not easily should another of the Achaians have persuaded me, but thou
hast suffered and toiled greatly, and thy brave father and brother, for
my sake: therefore will I hearken to thy prayer, and will even give
unto thee the mare, though she is mine, that these also may know that
my heart was never overweening or implacable.”
He said, and gave the mare to Noemon Antilochos’ comrade to lead away,
and then took the shining caldron. And Meriones took up the two talents
of gold in the fourth place, as he had come in. So the fifth prize was
left unclaimed, a two-handled cup; to Nester gave Achilles this,
bearing it to him through the concourse of Argives, and stood by him
and said: “Lo now for thee too, old man, be this a treasure, a memorial
of Patroklos’ burying; for no more shalt thou behold him among the
Argives. Now give I thee this prize unwon, for not in boxing shalt thou
strive, neither wrestle, nor enter on the javelin match, nor race with
thy feet; for grim old age already weigheth on thee.”
Thus saying he placed it in his hand, and Nestor received it gladly,
and spake unto him winged words: “Ay, truly all this, my son, thou hast
meetly said; for no longer are my limbs, friend, firm, nor my feet, nor
do my arms at all swing lightly from my shoulders either side. Would
that my youth were such and my force so firm as when the Epeians were
burying lord Amarynkes at Buprasion, and his sons held the king’s
funeral games. Then was no man found like me, neither of the Epeians
nor of the Pylians themselves or the great-hearted Aitolians. In boxing
I overcame Klytomedes, son of Enops, and in wrestling Ankaios of
Pleuron, who stood up against me, and in the foot-race I outran
Iphiklos, a right good man, and with the spear outthrew Phyleus and
Polydoros; only in the chariot-race the two sons of Aktor beat me [by
crowding their horses in front of me, jealous for victory, because the
chief prizes were left at home.] Now they were twins—one ever held the
reins, the reins he ever held, the other called on the horses with the
lash. Thus was I once, but now let younger men join in such feats; I
must bend to grievous age, but then was I of mark among heroes. But
come hold funeral for thy comrade too with with games. This gift do I
accept with gladness, and my heart rejoiceth that thou rememberest ever
my friendship to thee—(nor forget I thee)—and the honour wherewith it
is meet that I be honoured among the Achaians. And may the gods for
this grant thee due grace.”
Thus spake he, and Peleides was gone down the full concourse of
Achaians, when he had hearkened to all the thanks of Neleus’ son. Then
he ordained prizes of the violent boxing match; a sturdy mule he led
forth and tethered amid the assembly, a six-year mule unbroken, hardest
of all to break; and for the loser set a two-handled cup. Then he stood
up and spake a word among the Argives: “Son of Atreus and ye other
well-greaved Achaians, for these rewards we summon two men of the best
to lift up their hands to box amain. He to whom Apollo shall grant
endurance to the end, and all the Achaians acknowledge it, let him take
the sturdy mule and return with her to his hut; and the loser shall
take with him the two-handled-cup.”
Thus spake he, and forthwith arose a man great and valiant and skilled
in boxing, Epeios son of Panopeus, and laid his hand on the sturdy mule
and said aloud: “Let one come nigh to bear off the two-handled cup; the
mule I say none other of the Achaians shall take for victory with his
fists, for I claim to be the best man here. Sufficeth it not that I
fall short of you in battle? Not possible is it that in all arts a man
be skilled. Thus proclaim I, and it shall be accomplished: I will
utterly bruise mine adversary’s flesh and break his bones, so let his
friends abide together here to bear him forth when vanquished by my
hands.”
Thus spake he, and they all kept deep silence. And alone arose against
him Euryalos, a godlike man, son of king Mekisteus the son of Talaos,
Mekisteus, who came on a time to Thebes when Oedipus had fallen, to his
burial, and there he overcame all the sons of Kadmos. Thus Tydeides
famous with the spear made ready Euryalos for the fight, cheering him
with speech, and greatly desired for him victory. And first he cast
about him a girdle, and next gave him well-cut thongs of the hide of an
ox of the field. And the two boxers being girt went into the midst of
the ring, and both lifting up their stalwart hands fell to, and their
hands joined battle grievously. Then was there terrible grinding of
teeth, and sweat flowed from all their limbs. And noble Epeios came on,
and as the other spied for an opening, smote him on the cheek, nor
could he much more stand, for his limbs failed straightway under him.
And as when beneath the North Wind’s ripple a fish leapeth on a
tangle-covered beach, and then the black wave hideth it, so leapt up
Euryalos at that blow. But great-hearted Epeios took him in his hands
and set him upright, and his dear comrades stood around him, and led
him through the ring with trailing feet, spitting out clotted blood,
drooping his head awry, and they set him down in his swoon among them
and themselves went forth and fetched the two-handled cup.
Then Peleus’ son ordained straightway the prizes for a third contest,
offering them to the Danaans, for the grievous wrestling match: for the
winner a great tripod for standing on the fire, prized by the Achaians
among them at twelve oxens’ worth; and for the loser he brought a woman
into the midst, skilled in manifold work, and they prized her at four
oxen. And he stood up and spake a word among the Argives: “Rise, ye who
will essay this match.”
Thus said he, and there arose great Aias son of Telamon, and Odysseus
of many wiles stood up, the crafty-minded. And the twain being girt
went into the midst of the ring, and clasped each the other in his arms
with stalwart hands, like gable rafters of a lofty house which some
famed craftsman joineth, that he may baffle the wind’s force. And their
backs creaked, gripped firmly under the vigorous hands, and sweat ran
down in streams, and frequent weals along their ribs and shoulders
sprang up, red with blood, while ever they strove amain for victory, to
win the wrought tripod. Neither could Odysseus trip Aias and bear him
to the ground, nor Aias him, for Odysseus’ strength withheld him. But
when they began to irk the well-greaved Achaians, then said to Odysseus
great Aias, Telamon’s son: “Heaven-sprung son of Laertes, Odysseus of
many wiles, or lift thou me, or I will thee, and the issue shall be
with Zeus.”
Having thus said he lifted him, but Odysseus was not unmindful of his
craft. He smote deftly from behind the hollow of Aias’ knee, and loosed
his limbs, and threw him down backward, and Odysseus fell upon his
chest, and the folk gazed and marvelled. Then in his turn much-enduring
noble Odysseus tried to lift, and moved him a little from the ground,
but lifted him not, so he crooked his knee within the other’s, and both
fell on the ground nigh to each other, and were soiled with dust, And
now starting up again a third time would they have wrestled, had not
Achilles himself arisen and held them back: “No longer press each the
other, nor wear you out with pain. Victory is with both; take equal
prizes and depart, that other Achaians may contend.”
Thus spake he, and they were fain to hear and to obey, and wiped the
dust from them and put their doublets on.
Then straightway the son of Peleus set forth other prizes for fleetness
of foot; a mixing-bowl of silver, chased; six measures it held, and in
beauty it was far the best in all the earth, for artificers of Sidon
wrought it cunningly, and men of the Phoenicians brought it over the
misty sea, and landed it in harbour, and gave it a gift to Thoas; and
Euneos son of Jason gave it to the hero Patroklos a ransom for Lykaon
Priam’s son. Now this cup did Achilles set forth as a prize in honour
of his friend, for whoso should be fleetest in speed of foot. For the
second he set an ox great and very fat, and for the last prize half a
talent of gold. And he stood up and spake a word among the Argives:
“Rise, ye who will essay this match.”
Thus spake he, and straightway arose fleet Aias Oileus’ son, and
Odysseus of many wiles, and after them Nestor’s son Antilochos, for he
was best of all the youth in the foot-race. Then they stood side by
side, and Achilles showed to them the goal. Right eager was the running
from the start, but Oileus’ son forthwith shot to the front, and close
behind him came noble Odysseus, as close as is a weaving-rod to a
fair-girdled woman’s breast when she pulleth it deftly with her hands,
drawing the spool along the warp, and holdeth the rod nigh her breast—
so close ran Odysseus behind Aias and trod in his footsteps or ever the
dust had settled there, and on his head fell the breath of noble
Odysseus as he ran ever lightly on, and all the Achaians applauded his
struggle for the victory and called on him as he laboured hard. But
when they were running the last part of the course, forthwith Odysseus
prayed in his soul to bright-eyed Athene: “Hearken, goddess, come thou
a good helper of my feet.”
Thus prayed he, and Pallas Athene hearkened to him, and made his limbs
feel light, both feet and hands. But when they, were now nigh darting
on the prize, then Aias slipped as he ran, for Athene marred his race,
where filth was strewn from the slaughter of loud-bellowing oxen that
fleet Achilles slew in honour of Patroklos: and Aias’ mouth and
nostrils were filled with that filth of oxen. So much-enduring noble
Odysseus, as he came in first, took up the mixing-bowl, and famous Aias
took the ox. And he stood holding in his hand the horn of the ox of the
field, sputtering away the filth, and spake among the Argives: “Out on
it, it was the goddess who marred my running, she who from of old like
a mother standeth by Odysseus’ side and helpeth him.”
So spake he, but they all laughed pleasantly to behold him. Then
Antilochos smiling bore off the last prize, and spake his word among
the Argives: “Friends, ye will all bear me witness when I say that even
herein also the immortals favour elder men. For Aias is a little older
than I, but Odysseus of an earlier generation and earlier race of men.
A green old age is his, they say, and hard were it for any Achaian to
rival him in speed, save only Achilles.”
Thus spake he, and gave honour to the fleet son of Peleus. And Achilles
answered him and said: “Antilochos, not unheeded shall thy praise be
given; a half-talent of gold I will give thee over and above.” He said,
and set it in his hands, and Antilochos received it gladly.
Then Peleus’ son brought and set in the ring a far-shadowing spear and
a chaldron that knew not the fire, an ox’s worth, embossed with
flowers; and men that were casters of the javelin arose up. There rose
Atreus’ son wide-ruling Agamemnon, and Meriones, Idomeneus’ brave
squire. And swift-footed noble Achilles spake among them: “Son of
Atreus, for that we know how far thou excellest all, and how far the
first thou art in the might of thy throw, take thou this prize with
thee to the hollow ships, and to the hero Meriones let us give the
spear, if thou art willing in thy heart: thus I at least advise.”
Thus spake he, nor disregarded him Agamemnon king of men. So to
Meriones he gave the spear of bronze, but to the herald Talthybios the
hero gave the goodliest prize.