 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Iliad by Homer. Translated by Samuel Butler. Book 15. Recording by Kevin Laverne. Jove awakes, tells Apollo to heal Hector, and the Trojans again become victorious. But when their flight had taken them past the trench and the set stakes, and many had fallen by the hands of the Danons, the Trojans made a halt on reaching their chariots, routed and pale with fear. Jove now awoke on the crests of Ida, where he was lying with golden-throned Juno by his side, and starting to his feet he saw the Trojans and the Achaeans, the one thrown into confusion, and the others driving them pel-mel before them with king Neptune in their midst. He saw Hector lying on the ground with his comrades gathered round him, gasping for breath, wandering in mind and vomiting blood, for it was not the feeblest of the Achaeans who struck him. The sire of gods and men had pity on him, and looked fiercely on Juno. I see, Juno, said he, you mischief-making trickster, that your cunning has stayed Hector from fighting and has caused the rout of his host. I am in half a mind to thrash you, in which case you will be the first to reap the fruits of your scurvy navery. Do you not remember how once upon a time I had you hanged? I fastened two anvils onto your feet, and bound your hands in a chain of gold which none might break, and you hung in mid-air among the clouds. All the gods in Olympus were in a fury, but they could not reach you to set you free. When I caught any one of them I gripped him and hurled him from the heavenly threshold till he came fainting down to earth. Yet even this did not relieve my mind from the incessant anxiety which I felt about noble Hercules, whom you and Boreas had spitefully conveyed beyond the sea to cause, after suborning the tempests. But I rescued him, and notwithstanding all his mighty labours I brought him back again to Argos. I would remind you of this, that you may learn to leave off being so deceitful, and discover how much you are likely to gain by the embraces out of which you have come here to trick me. Juno trembled as he spoke, and said, May heaven above and earth below be my witnesses, with the waters of the river-sticks, and this is the most solemn oath that a blessed God can take. May I swear also by your own almighty head and by our bridle-bed, things over which I could never possibly perjure myself. That Neptune is not punishing Hector and the Trojans and helping the Achaeans through any doing of mine. It is all of his own mere motion, because he was sorry to see the Achaeans hard-pressed at their ships. If I were advising him I should tell him to do as you bid him. The sire of gods and men smiled and answered. If you, Juno, were always to support me when we sit in council of the gods, Neptune, like it or no, would soon come round to your and my way of thinking. If then you are speaking the truth, and mean what you say, go among the rank and file of the gods, and tell Iris and Apollo, Lord of the Bow, that I want them. Iris, that she may go to the Achaean host and tell Neptune to leave off fighting and go home, and Apollo, that he may send Hector again into battle and give him fresh strength. He will thus forget his present sufferings and drive the Achaeans back in confusion till they fall among the ships of Achilles, son of Pellius. Achilles will then send his comrade, Patroclus, into battle, and Hector will kill him in front of Ilius after he has slain many warriors, and among them my own noble son, Sarpodon. Achilles will kill Hector to avenge Patroclus, and from that time I will bring it about that the Achaeans shall persistently drive the Trojans back till they fulfill the councils of Minerva and take Ilius. But I will not stay my anger nor permit any god to help the Danans till I have accomplished the desire of the son of Pellius, according to the promise I made by bowing my head on the day when Thetis touched my knees and besought me to give him honor. Juno heeded his words and went from the heights of Ida to great Olympus, swift as the thought of one whose fancy carries him over vast continents, and he says to himself, now I will be here or there, and he would have all manner of things, even so swiftly did Juno wing her way till she came to high Olympus and went in among the gods who were gathered in the house of Jove. When they saw her they all of them came up to her and held out their cups to her by way of greeting. She let the others be, but took the cup offered her by lovely Themis, who was first to come running up to her. Juno said she, why are you here? And you seem troubled. Has your husband the son of Saturn been frightening you? And Juno answered, Themis do not ask me about it. You know what a proud and cruel disposition my husband has. Lead the gods to table, where you and all the immortals can hear the wicked designs which he has avowed. Many a one, mortal and immortal, will be angered by them, however peaceably he may be feasting now. On this Juno sat down, and the gods were troubled throughout the house of Jove. Laughter sat on her lips, but her brow was furrowed with care, and she spoke up in a rage. Fools that we are, she cried, to be thus madly angry with Jove. We keep on wanting to go up to him and stay him by force or by persuasion, but he sits aloof and cares for nobody, for he knows that he is much stronger than any other of the immortals. Make the best, therefore, of whatever ills he may choose to send each one of you. Mars, I take it, has had a taste of them already. For his son, Ascalophus, has fallen in battle, the man whom of all others he loved most dearly and whose father he owns himself to be. When he heard this, Mars smote his two sturdy thighs with the flat of his hands and said in anger, Do not blame me, you gods that dwell in heaven, if I go to the ships of the Achaeans and avenge the death of my son, even though it end in my being struck by Jove's lightning and lying in blood and dust among the corpses. And as he spoke, he gave orders to yoke his horses panic and rout, while he put on his armor. On this Jove would have been roused to still more fierce and implacable enmity against the other immortals, had not Minerva, alarmed for the safety of the gods, sprung from her seat and hurried outside. She tore the helmet from his head and the shield from his shoulders, and she took the bronze spear from his strong hand and set it on one side. Then she said to Mars, Madman, you are undone, you have ears that hear not, or you have lost all judgment and understanding. Have you not heard what Juno has said on coming straight from the presence of Olympian Jove? Do you wish to go through all kinds of suffering before you are brought back sick and sorry to Olympus, after having caused infinite mischief to all us others? Jove would instantly leave the Trojans and Achaeans to themselves. He would come to Olympus and punish us, and would grip us up one after another, guilty or not guilty. Therefore lay aside your anger for the death of your son. Better men than he have either been killed already or will fall here after, and one cannot protect everyone's whole family. With these words she took Mars back to his seat. Meanwhile Juno called Apollo outside, with Iris the messenger of the gods. Jove, she said to them, desires you to go to him at once on Mount Ida. When you have seen him you are to do as he may then bid you. Thereon Juno left them and resumed her seat inside, while Iris and Apollo made all haste on their way. When they reached many-fountained Ida, mother of wild beasts, they found Jove seated on topmost gargurus with a fragrant cloud encircling his head as with a diadem. They stood before his presence, and he was pleased with them for having been so quick in obeying the orders his wife had given them. He spoke to Iris first. Go, said he, fleet Iris, tell King Neptune what I now bid you, and tell him true. Bid him leave off fighting, and either join the company of the gods, or go down into the sea. If he takes no heed and disobeys me, let him consider well whether he is strong enough to hold his own against me if I attack him. I am older and much stronger than he is. Yet he is not afraid to set himself up as on a level with myself, of whom all the other gods stand in awe. Iris, fleet as the wind, obeyed him, and as the cold hail or snowflakes that fly from out the clouds before the blast of Boreus, even so did she wing her way till she came close up to the great shaker of the earth. Then she said, I have come, O dark-haired king that holds the world in his embrace, to bring you a message from Jove. He bids you leave off fighting, and either join the company of the gods, or go down into the sea. If however you take no heed and disobey him, he says he will come down here and fight you. He would have you keep out of his reach, for he is older and much stronger than you are, and yet you are not afraid to set yourself up as on a level with himself, of whom all the other gods stand in awe. Neptune was very angry and said, Great heavens, strong as Jove may be, he has said more than he can do if he has threatened violence against me. Who am of like honor with himself? We were three brothers whom Maria bore to Saturn, Jove, myself, and Hades, who rules the world below. Heaven and earth were divided into three parts, and each of us was to have an equal share. When we cast lots, it fell to me to have my dwelling in the sea for evermore. Hades took the darkness of the realms under the earth, while air and sky and clouds were the portion that fell to Jove. But earth and great Olympus are the common property of all. Therefore I will not walk as Jove would have me. For all his strength let him keep to his own third share and be contented without threatening to lay hands upon me as though I were nobody. Let him keep his bragging talk for his own sons and daughters, who must perforce obey him. Iris fleet as the wind then answered, Am I really Neptune to take this daring and unyielding message to Jove, or will you reconsider your answer? Sensible people are open to argument, and you know that the Aaronese always range themselves on the side of the older person. Neptune answered, Goddess Iris, your words have been spoken in season. It is well when a messenger shows so much discretion. Nevertheless it cuts me to the very heart that anyone should rebuke so angrily another who is his own peer, and of like Empire with himself. Now however I will give way in spite of my displeasure. Furthermore let me tell you, and I mean what I say, if contrary to the desire of myself, Minerva driver of the spoil, Juno, Mercury, and King Vulcan, Jove spares steep Ilius, and will not let the Achaeans have the great triumph of sacking it. Let him understand that he will incur our implacable resentment. Neptune now left the field to go down under the sea, and sorely did the Achaeans miss him. Then Jove said to Apollo, Go, dear Phoebus, to Hector, for Neptune who holds the earth in his embrace has now gone down under the sea to avoid the severity of my displeasure. Had he not done so, those gods who are below with Saturn would have come to hear of the fight between us. It is better for both of us that he should have curbed his anger and kept out of my reach, for I should have much trouble with him. Take then your tassled Aegis, and shake it furiously, so as to set the Achaean heroes in a panic. Take more over brave Hector, O far-darter, into your own care, and rouse him to deeds of daring, till the Achaeans are sent flying back to their ships and to the helispont. From that point I will think it well over how the Achaeans may have a respite from their troubles. Apollo obeyed his father's saying, and left the crests of Ida, flying like a falcon, bane of doves, and swiftest of all birds. He found Hector no longer lying upon the ground, but sitting up, for he had just come to himself again. He knew those who were about him, and the sweat and hard breathing had left him from the moment when the will of Aegis Bering Jove had revived him. Apollo stood beside him and said, Hector, son of Priam, why are you so faint, and why are you here away from the others? Has any mishap befallen you? Hector, in a weak voice, answered, And which kind, sir, of the gods are you, who now ask me thus? Do you not know that Ajax struck me on the chest with a stone as I was killing his comrades at the ships of the Achaeans, and compelled me to leave off fighting? I made sure that this very day I should breathe my last and go down into the house of Hades. Then King Apollo said to him, Take heart, the son of Saturn has sent you a mighty helper from Ida to stand by you and defend you, even me, Phoebus Apollo of the Golden Sword, who have been guardian hitherto not only of yourself but of your city. Now therefore order your horsemen to drive their chariots to the ships in great multitudes. I will go before your horses to smooth the way for them, and will turn the Achaeans in flight. As he spoke, he infused great strength into the shepherd of his people. And as a horse, stable and full fed, breaks loose and gallops gloriously over the plain to the place where he is want to take his bath in the river, he tosses his head and his main streams over his shoulders, In all the pride of his strength he flies full speed to the pastures where the mayors are feeding. Even so, Hector, when he heard what the gods said, urged his horsemen on and sped forward as fast as his limbs could take him. As country peasants set their hounds on to a homed stag or wild goat, he has taken shelter under rock or thicket, and they cannot find him, but lo, a bearded lion whom their shouts have roused stands in their path, and they are in no further humor for the chase. Even so, the Achaeans were still charging on in a body, using their swords and spears pointed at both ends, but when they saw Hector going about among his men they were afraid, and their hearts fell down into their feet. Then spoke Thoaz, son of Andrayaman, leader of the Aetolians, a man who could throw a good throw, and who was staunch also in close fight, while few could surpass him in debate when opinions were divided. He then, with all sincerity and goodwill, addressed them thus. What in Heaven's name do I see now? Is it not Hector come to life again? Everyone made sure he had been killed by Ajax, son of Telemann, but it seems that one of the gods has again rescued him. He has killed many of us Danans already, and I take it will yet do so, for the hand of Jove must be with him, or he would never dare show himself so masterful in the forefront of the battle. Now therefore let us all do as I say. Let us order the main body of our forces to fall back upon the ships, but let those of us who profess to be the flower of the army stand firm, and see whether we cannot hold Hector back at the point of our spears as soon as he comes near us. I conceive that he will then think better of it before he tries to charge into the press of the Danans. Thus did he speak, and they did even as he said. Those who were about Ajax and King Idomenius, the followers moreover of Telser, Mariones, and Maggies, Peer of Mars, called all their best men about them and sustained the fight against Hector and the Trojans, but the main body fell back upon the ships of the Achaeans. The Trojans pressed forward in a dense body, with Hector striding on at their head. Before him went Phoebus Apollo shrouded in cloud about his shoulders. He bore aloft the terrible Aegis, with its shaggy fringe which Vulcan the Smith had given Jove to strike terror into the hearts of men. With this in his hand he led on the Trojans. The Argives held together and stood their ground. The cry of battle rose high from either side, and the arrows flew from the boasterings. Many a spear sped from strong hands and fastened in the bodies of many a valiant warrior, while others fell to earth midway, before they could taste of a man's fair flesh and glut themselves with blood. So long as Phoebus Apollo held his Aegis quietly and without shaking it, the weapons on either side took effect and the people fell. But when he shook it straight in the face of the Danons and raised his mighty battle cry, their hearts fainted within them and they forgot their former prowess. As when two wild beasts spring in the dead of night on a herd of cattle or a large flock of sheep when the herdsmen is not there, even so were the Danons struck helpless, for Apollo filled them with panic and gave victory to Hector and the Trojans. The fight then became more scattered and they killed one another where they best could. Hector killed Stygius and Archesilaus, the one leader of the Boeotians, and the other friend and comrade of Menestheus. Aeneas killed Medon and Eassus. The first was bastard son to Oelius and brother to Ajax, but he lived in Philaeus away from his own country, for he had killed a man, a kinsman of his stepmother, Areopus, whom Oelius had married. Eassus had become a leader of the Athenians and was son of Svelis, the son of Bucolos. Polydomus killed Mechistius and Polytes Achaeus in the front of the battle, while Aginor slew Clonius. Paris struck Diocus from behind in the lower part of the shoulder, as he was flying among the foremost, and the point of the spear went clean through him. While they were spoiling these heroes of their armor, the Achaeans were flying pel-mel to the trench and the set-stakes, and were forced back within their wall. Hector then cried out to the Trojans. Forward to the ships, and let the spoils be. If I see any man keeping back on the other side of the wall away from the ships, I will have him killed. His kinsmen and kinswomen shall not give him his dues of fire, but dog shall tear him in pieces in front of our city. As he spoke, he laid his whip about his horse's shoulders and called to the Trojans throughout their ranks. The Trojans shouted with a cry that rent the air and kept their horses neck and neck with his own. Phoebus Apollo went before and kicked down the banks of the deep trench into its middle so as to make a great broad bridge, as broad as the throw of a spear when a man is trying his strength. The Trojan battalions poured over the bridge, and Apollo, with his redoubtable aegis, led the way. He kicked down the wall of the Achaeans as easily as a child, who, playing on the seashore, has built a house of sand, and then kicks it down again and destroys it. Even so did you, O Apollo, shed toil and trouble upon the Argives, filling them with panic and confusion. Thus then were the Achaeans hemmed in at their ships, calling out to one another and raising their hands with loud cries every man to heaven. Nestor, of Gorini, tower of strength to the Achaeans, lifted up his hands to the starry firmament of heaven, and prayed more fervently than any of them. Father Jove, said he, if ever any one in wheat-growing Argos burned you fat thigh-bones of sheep or heifer and preyed, that he might return safely home, whereon you bowed your head to him in ascent, bear it in mind now, and suffer not the Trojans to triumph thus over the Achaeans. All counselling Jove, thundered loudly in answer to the prayer of the aged son of Naleus. When they heard Jove thunder, they flung themselves yet more fiercely on the Achaeans, as a wave breaking over the bulwarks of a ship when the sea runs high before a gale, for it is the force of the wind that makes the waves so great. Even so did the Trojans spring over the wall with a shout, and drive their chariots onwards. The two sides fought with their double pointed spears in hand to hand encounter, the Trojans from their chariots and the Achaeans climbing up into their ships and wielding the long pikes that were lying on the decks ready for use in a sea-fight, jointed and shod with bronze. Now Patroclus, so long as the Achaeans and Trojans were fighting about the wall, but were not yet within it and at the ships, remained sitting in the tent of good Euripilus, entertaining him with his conversation and spreading herbs over his wound to ease his pain. When, however, he saw the Trojans swarming through the breach in the wall, while the Achaeans were clamoring and struck with panic, he cried aloud and smote his two thighs with the flat of his hands. Euripilus, he said in his dismay, I know you want me badly, but I cannot stay with you any longer, for there is hard fighting going on. A servant shall take care of you now, for I must make all speed to Achilles and induce him to fight if I can. Who knows, but with Heaven's help I may persuade him. A man does well to listen to the advice of a friend. When he had thus spoken he went his way. The Achaeans stood firm and resisted the attack of the Trojans, yet, though these were fewer in number, they could not drive them back from the ships. Neither could the Trojans break the Achaean ranks and make their way in among the tents and ships. As a carpenter's line gives a true edge to a piece of ships' timber, in the hand of some skilled workmen whom Minerva has instructed in all kinds of useful arts, even so level was the issue of the fight between the two sides as they fought some round one and some round another. Hector made straight for Ajax, and the two fought fiercely about the same ship. Hector could not force Ajax back and fire the ship, nor yet could Ajax drive Hector from the spot to which Heaven had brought him. Then Ajax struck Calator, son of Clitius, in the chest with a spear as he was bringing fire towards the ship. He fell heavily to the ground and the torch dropped from his hand. When Hector saw his cousin fallen in front of the ship he shouted to the Trojans and Lycians, saying, Trojans, Lycians, and Dardanians, good in close fight, bait not a jot, but rescue the son of Clitius lest the Achaeans strip him of his armor now that he has fallen. He then aimed a spear at Ajax and missed him, but he hit Lycophron, a follower of Ajax who came from Kithura, but was living with Ajax in as much as he had killed a man among the Kitharians. Hector's spear struck him on the head below the ear, and he fell headlong from the ship's prowl on to the ground with no life left in him. Ajax shook with rage and said to his brother, Tell, sir, my good fellow, our trusty comrade, the son of Mastor, had fallen. He came to live with us from Kithura, and whom we honored as much as our own parents. Hector has just killed him, fetched your deadly arrows at once, and the bow with which Phoebus Apollo gave you. Tell, sir, heard him, and hastened towards him with his bow and quiver in his hands. Fourth with, he showered his arrows on the Trojans, and hit Clatius, the son of Pysenor, comrade of Polidimus, the noble son of Penthouse, with the reins in his hands as he was attending to his horses. He was in the middle of the very thickest part of the fight, doing good service to Hector and the Trojans, but evil had now come upon him, and not one of those who were famed to do so could avert it, for the arrow struck him on the back of the neck. He fell from his chariot, and his horses shook the empty car as they swerved aside. King Polidimus saw what had happened, and was the first to come upon the horses. He gave them in charge to Astonis, son of Proteion, and ordered him to look on and to keep the horses near at hand. He then went back and took his place in the front ranks. Tell, sir, then aimed another arrow at Hector, and there would have been no more fighting at the ships if he had hit him and killed him then and there. Jove, however, who kept watch over Hector, had his eyes on Tell, sir, and deprived him of his triumph by breaking his boastering for him just as he was drawing it, and about to take his aim. On this the arrow went astray, and the bow fell from his hands. Tell, sir, shook with anger and said to his brother, Alas, see how heaven thwarts us in all we do. It has broken my boastering and snatched the bow from my hand, though I strung it the self-same mourning that it might serve me for many an arrow. Ajax, son of Telemon, answered, My good fellow, let your bow and your arrows be, for Jove has made them useless in order to spite the Danans. Take your spear, lay your shield upon your shoulder, and both fight the Trojans yourself, and urge others to do so. They may be successful for the moment, but if we fight as we ought, they will find it a hard matter to take the ships. Tell, sir, then took his bow and put it by in his tent. He hung a shield up four hides thick about his shoulders, and on his comely head he set his helmet well wrought with a crest of horse hair that nodded menacingly above it. He grasped his redoubtable bronze shod spear, and forthwith he was by the side of Ajax. When Hector saw that Tell, sir's bow was of no more use to him, he shouted out to the Trojans and Lycians. Trojans, Lycians, and Dardanians, good in close fight, be men, my friends, and show your metal here at the ships, for I see the weapon of one of their chieftains made useless by the hand of Jove. It is easy to see when Jove is helping people and means to help them still further, or again when he is bringing them down and will do nothing for them. He is now on our side, and is going against the Argives. Therefore swarm round the ships and fight. If any of you is struck by spear or sword and loses his life, let him die. He dies with honor who dies fighting for his country, and he will leave his wife and children safe behind him with his house and allotment unplundered if only the Achaeans can be driven back to their own land, they and their ships. With these words he put heart and soul into them all. Ajax on the other side exhorted his comrades, saying, Shame on you, Argives, we are now utterly undone unless we can save ourselves by driving the enemy from our ships. Do you think, if Hector takes them, that you will be able to get home by land? Can you not hear him cheering on his whole host to fire our fleet and bidding them remember that they are not at a dance but in battle? Our only course is to fight them with might and main. We had better chance at life or death once for all than fight long and without issue himed in at our ships by worse men than ourselves. With these words he put life and soul into them all. Hector then killed Skidius, son of Pyramides, leader of the Phocians, and Ajax killed Leotimus, captain of foot soldiers, and son to Antonor. Politimus killed Otus of Selene, a comrade of the son of Phileus, and chief of the proud Epians. When Megis saw this he sprang upon him, but Politimus crouched down and he missed him, for Apollo would not suffer the son of Penthouse to fall in battle, but the spear hit Croesmus in the middle of his chest, whereon he fell heavily to the ground, and Megis stripped him of his armor. At that moment the valiant soldier Dallup's son of Lampus sprang upon Lampus was son of Leomedon and for his valor, while his son Dallup's was versed in all the ways of war. He then struck the middle of the son of Phileus' shield with his spear, setting on him at close quarters, but his good coarselet made with plates of metal saved him. Phileus had brought it from Ephra and the river Cileus, where his host King Euphates had given it him to wear in battle and protect him. It now served to save the life of his son. Then Megis struck the topmost crest of Dallup's bronze helmet with his spear and tore away its plume of horsehair, so that all newly died with scarlet as it was it tumbled down into the dust. While he was still fighting and confident of victory, Menelaus came up to help Megis and got by the side of Dallup's unperceived. He then speared him in the shoulder from behind and the point driven so furiously went through into his chest whereon he fell headlong. The two then made towards him to strip him of his armor, but Hector called on all his brothers for help, and he especially upbraided brave Milanipus, son of Hiccateon, who erewell used to pastor his herds of cattle and percoat, before the war broke out. But when the ships of the Danons came, he went back to Ilius, where he was imminent among the Trojans, and lived near Priam, who treated him as one of his own sons. Hector now rebuked him and said, Why Milanipus, are you we thus remiss? Do you take no note of the death of your kinsmen, and do you not see how they are trying to take Dallup's armor? Follow me. There must be no fighting the Argives from a distance now, but we must do so in close combat till either we kill them or they take the high wall of Ilius and slay her people. He led on as he spoke, and the hero Milanipus followed after. Meanwhile Ajax's son of Telemon was cheering on the Argives. My friends, he cried, be men, and feared dishonor. Quit yourselves in battle, so as to win respect from one another. Men who respect each other's good opinion are less likely to be killed than those who do not, but in flight there is neither gain nor glory. Thus did he exhort men who were already bent upon driving back the Trojans. They laid his words to heart, and hedged the ships as with a wall of bronze, while Jove urged on the Trojans. Menelaus of the loud battle cry urged Antelokis on. Antelokis said he, You are young, and there is none of the Achaeans more fleet afoot or more valiant than you are. See if you cannot spring upon some Trojan and kill him. He hurried away when he had thus spurred Antelokis, who at once darted out from the front ranks and aimed a spear after looking carefully round him. The Trojans fell back as he threw, and the dart did not speed from his hand without effect, for it struck Melanipus, the proud son of Hikateon, in the breast by the nipple as he was coming forward, and his armor rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. Antelokis sprang upon him as a dog springs on a fawn which a hunter has hit, as it was breaking away from its covert and killed it. Even so, O Melanipus did stalwart Antelokis spring upon you to strip you of your armor, but noble Hector marked him, and came running up to him through the thick of the battle. Antelokis, brave soldier though he was, would not stay to face him, but fled like some savage creature which knows it has done wrong, and flies when it has killed a dog or a man who is hurting his cattle, before a body of men can be gathered to attack it. Even so did the son of Nestor fly, and the Trojans and Hector with a cry that rent the air showered their weapons after him, nor did he turn round and stay his flight till he had reached his comrades. The Trojans, fierce as lions, were still rushing on towards the ships in fulfillment of the behests of Jove, who kept spurring them on to new deeds of daring, while he deadened the courage of the Argives, and defeated them by encouraging the Trojans. For he meant giving glory to Hector, son of Priam, and letting him throw fire upon the ships, till he had fulfilled the unrighteous prayer that Thetis had made him. Jove therefore bided his time till he should see the glare of a blazing ship. From that hour he was about so to order that the Trojans should be driven back from the ships, and to vouch safe glory to the Achaeans. With this purpose he inspired Hector, son of Priam, who was cajure enough already, to assail the ships. His fury was as that of Mars, or as when a fire is raging in the glades of some dense forest upon the mountains. He foamed at the mouth, his eyes glared under his terrible eyebrows, and his helmet quivered on his temples by reason of the fury with which he fought. Jove from heaven was with him, and though he was but one against many, vouch saved him victory and glory. For he was doomed to an early death, and already Pallas Minerva was hurrying on the hour of his destruction at the hands of the son of Palaeus. Now, however, he was trying to break the ranks of the enemy, wherever he could see them thickest, and in the goodliest armor. But do what he might he could not break through them, for they stood as a tower four square, or as some high cliff rising from the gray sea that braves the anger of the gale, and of the waves that thunder up against it. He fell upon them like flames of fire from every quarter. As when a wave raised mountain high by wind and storm breaks over a ship and covers it deep in foam, the fierce winds roar against the mast, the hearts of the sailors fail them for fear, and they are saved but by a very little from destruction, even so were the hearts of the Achaeans fainting within them. Or as a savage lion attacking a herd of cows, while they are feeding by thousands in the low, lying meadows by some wide, watered shore. The herdsman is at his wit's end, how to protect his herd, and keeps going about, now in the van, and now in the rear of his cattle, while the lion springs into the thick of them and fastens on a cow so that they all tremble for fear. Even so were the Achaeans utterly panic-stricken by Hector and Father Jov. Nevertheless Hector only killed Periphetes of Mycenae. He was son of Caprius, who was want to take the orders of King Eurystheus to mighty Hercules, but the son was a far better man than the father in every way. He was fleet afoot, a valiant warrior, and an understanding ranked among the foremost men of Mycenae. He it was who then afforded Hector a triumph. For as he was turning back he stumbled against the rim of his shield which reached his feet, and served to keep the javelins off him. He tripped against this and fell face upward, his helmet ringing loudly about his head, as he did so. Hector saw him fall and ran up to him. He then thrust a spear into his chest, and killed him close to his own comrades. These for all their sorrow could not help him, for they were themselves terribly afraid of Hector. They had now reached the ships, and the prowls of those that had been drawn up first were on every side of them. But the Trojans came pouring after them. The Argives were driven back from the first row of ships, but they made a stand by their tents without being broken up and scattered. Shame and fear restrained them. They kept shouting incessantly to one another, and nester of Garini. Tower of Strength to the Achaeans was loudest in imploring every man by his parents and beseeching him to stand firm. Be men, my friends, he cried, and respect one another's good opinion. Think all of you on your children, your wives, your property, and your parents, whether these be alive or dead. On their behalf, though they are not here, I implore you to stand firm and not to turn in flight. With these words he put heart and soul into them all. Minerva lifted the thick veil of darkness from their eyes, and much light fell upon them. A like on the side of the ships, and on that where the fight was raging. They could see Hector and all his men, both those in the rear who were taking no part in the battle, and those who were fighting by the ships. Ajax could not bring himself to retreat along with the rest, but strode from deck to deck with a great sea-pike in his hands, twelve cubits long, and joined with rings. As a man skilled in feats of horsemanship couples four horses together and comes tearing full speed along the public way from the country into some large town. Many both men and women marvel as they see him, for he keeps all the time changing his horse, springing from one to another without ever missing his feet, while the horses are at a gallop. Even so did Ajax go striding from one ship's deck to another, and his voice went up into the heavens. He kept on shouting his orders to the Danons, and exhorting them to defend their ships and tents. Neither did Hector remain within the main body of the Trojan warriors, but as a Dun Eagle swoops down upon a flock of wildfowl feeding near a river geese, it may be, or cranes, or long-necked swans. Even so did Hector made it straight for a dark proud ship rushing right towards it, for Jove with his mighty hand impelled him forward and roused his people to follow him. And now the battle again raged furiously at the ships. You would have thought the men were coming on fresh and unwirried, so fiercely did they fight. And this was the mind in which they were. The Achaeans did not believe they should escape destruction, but thought themselves doomed. While there was not a Trojan but his heart beat high with the hope of firing the ships and putting the Achaean heroes to the sword. Thus were the two sides minded. Then Hector seized the stern of the good ship that had brought Proteselaus to Troy, but never bore him back to his native land. Round this ship there raged a close hand-to-hand fight between the Danons and the Trojans. They did not fight at a distance with bows and javelins, but with one mind hacked at another in close combat with their mighty swords and spears pointed at both ends. They fought moreover with keen battle-axis and with hatchets. Many a good stout blade, hilted and scabbarded with iron, fell from hand or shoulder as they fought, and the earth ran red with blood. Hector, when he had seized the ship, would not loose his hold, but held on to its curved stern and shouted to the Trojans, Bring fire and raise the battle cry, all of you with a single voice. Now has Jove vouchsafed us a day that will pay us for all the rest. This day we shall take the ships which came hither against Heaven's will, and which have caused us such infinite suffering through the cowardice of our counselors, who when I would have done battle at the ships held me back and forbade the host to follow me. If Jove did then indeed warp our judgments, himself now commands me and cheers me on. As he spoke thus the Trojans sprang yet more fiercely on the Achaeans, and Ajax no longer held his ground, for he was overcome by the darts that were flung at him, and made sure that he was doomed. Therefore he left the raised deck at the stern and stepped back on to the seven-foot bench of the oarsmen. Here he stood on the lookout, and with his spear held back Trojan whom he saw bringing fire to the ships. All the time he kept on shouting at the top of his voice and exhorting the Danans. My friends, he cried. Danan heroes, servants of Mars, beam in, my friends, and fight with might and with main. Can we hope to find helpers hereafter or a wall to shield us more surely than the one we have? There is no strong city within reach, whence we may draw fresh forces to turn the scales in our favor. We are on the plain of the armed Trojans with the sea behind us and far from our own country. Our salvation therefore is in the might of our hands and in hard fighting. As he spoke he wielded his spear with still greater fury, and when any Trojan made towards the ships with fire at Hector's bidding he would be on the lookout for him and drive at him with his long spear. Twelve men did he thus kill and hand to hand fight before the ships. End of Book 15 Recorded by Brad Powers Fire, being now thrown on the ship of Protesolaus, Petroclus fights in the armor of Achilles. He drives the Trojans back, but is in the end killed by Euphorbis and Hector. Thus did they fight about the ship of Protesolaus. Then Petroclus drew near to Achilles with tears welling from his eyes as from some spring whose crystal stream falls over the ledges of a high precipice. When Achilles saw him thus weeping he was sorry for him and said, Why, Petroclus, do you stand there weeping like some silly child that comes running to her mother and begs to be taken up and carried? She catches hold of her mother's dress to stay her though she is in a hurry and looks tearfully up until her mother carries her. Even such tears, Petroclus, are you now shedding? Have you anything to say to the Mermidans, or to myself? Or have you had news from Phthaya which you alone know? They tell me Menetius, son of Hector, is still alive as also Apelius, son of Iacus, among the Mermidans, men whose loss we too should bitterly deplore. Or are you grieving about the Argives and the way in which they are being killed to the ships through their own high-handed doings? Do not hide anything from me, but tell me that both of us may know about it. Then, O knight Petroclus, with a deep sigh you answered. Achilles, son of Pelyus, foremost champion of the Achaeans, do not be angry, but I weep for the disaster that has now befallen the Argives. All those who have been their champions so far are lying at the ships, wounded by sword or spear. Brave Diamed, son of Tidius, has been hit with the spear, while famed Ulysses and Agamemnon have received sword wounds. Euripolis, again, has been struck with an arrow in the thigh. Skilled Apothecaries are attending to these heroes and healing them of their wounds. Are you still, O Achilles, so inexorable? May it never be my lot to nurse such a passion as you have done to the baining of your own good name. Who, in future story, will speak well of you unless you now save the Argives from ruin? You know no pity. Knight Pelyus was not your father, nor Thetis your mother. But the grey sea bore you, and the sheer cliffs begot you, so cruel and remorseless are you. If, however, you're kept back through knowledge of some oracle, or if your mother Thetis has told you something from the mouth of Jove, at least send me and the Myrmidons with me, if I may bring deliverance to the Deneans. Let me moreover wear your armor. The Trojans may thus mistake me for you, and quit the field, so that the hard-pressed sons of the Achaeans may have breathing time, which, while they are fighting, may hardly be. We, who are fresh, might soon drive tired men back from our ships and tents to their own city. He knew not what he was asking, nor that he was suing for his own destruction. Achilles was deeply moved, and answered, What noble Petroclus are you saying? I know no prophesies which I am heeding, nor has my mother told me anything from the mouth of Jove. But I am cut to the very heart that one of my own ranks should dare to rob me because he is more powerful than I am. This, after all that I have gone through, is more than I can endure. The girl whom the sons of the Achaeans chose for me, whom I won, is the fruit of my spear on having sacked a city. Her has King Agamemnon taken from me as though I were some common vagrant. Still, let bygones be bygones. No man may keep his anger for ever. I said I would not relent till battle and the cry of war had reached my own ships. Nevertheless, now gird my armor about your shoulders, and lead the Mermidans to battle, for the dark cloud of Trojans has burst furiously over our fleet. The Argyres are driven back onto the beach, cooped within a narrow space, and the whole people of Troy has taken heart to sally out against them, because they see not the visor of my helmet gleaming near them. Had they seen this, there would not have been a creek nor grip that had not been filled with their dead as they fled back again. And so it would have been if only King Agamemnon had dealt fairly by me. As it is, the Trojans have beset our host. Diomedes, son of Tidius, no longer wields his spear to defend the Deneans. Neither have I heard the voice of the son of Atrus, coming from his hated head, whereas that of murderous Hector rings in my ears as he gives orders to the Trojans, who triumph over the Achaeans and fill the whole plain with their cry of battle. But even so, Petroclus, fall upon them and save the fleet, lest the Trojans fire it and prevent us from being able to return. Do, however, as I now bid you, that you may win me great honour from all the Deneans, and that they may restore the girl to me again and give me rich gifts into the bargain. When you have driven the Trojans from the ships, come back again. Though Juno's thundering husband should put triumph within your reach, do not fight the Trojans further in my absence, or you will rob me of the glory that should be mine. And do not for lust of battle go on killing the Trojans, nor lead the Achaeans on to Ilius, lest one of the ever-living gods from Olympus attack you, for Phoebus Apollo loves them well. Return when you have freed the ships from peril, and let others wage war upon the plain. Would, by Father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, that not a single man of all the Trojans might be left alive, nor yet of the Argives, but that we too might be alone left to tear aside the mantle that veils the brow of Troy. Thus did they converse. But Ajax could no longer hold his ground for the shower of darts that rained upon him. The will of Jove and the javelins of the Trojans were too much for him. The helmet that gleamed about his temples rang with the continuous clatter of the missiles that kept pouring onto it and onto the cheek-pieces that protected his face. Moreover, his left shoulder was tired with having held his shield so long. Yet for all this, let fly at him as they would, they could not make him give ground. He could hardly draw his breath, the sweat rain from every pore of his body. He had not a moment's respite, and on all sides he was beset by danger upon danger. And now tell me, O muses, that hold your mansions on Olympus, how fire was thrown upon the ships of the Achaeans. Hector came close up and let drive with his great sword at the ashen spear of Ajax. He cut it clean in two just behind where the point was fastened onto the shaft of the spear. Ajax, therefore, had now nothing but a headless spear, while the bronze point flew some way off and came ringing down onto the ground. Ajax knew the hand of heaven in this, and was dismayed at seeing that Jove had now left him utterly defenseless, and was willing victory for the Trojans. Therefore he drew back, and the Trojans flung fire upon the ship, which was at once wrapped in flame. The fire was now flaring about the ship's stern, whereon Achilles smote his two thighs and said to Petroclus, Up, noble knight, for I see the glare of hostile fire at your fleet. Up, lest they destroy our ships, and there be no way by which we may retreat. Gird on your armor at once while I call our people together. As he spoke, Petroclus put on his armor. First he grieved his legs with grieves of good-make, and fitted with ankle clasps of silver. After this he donned the crerasse of the son of Iacus, richly inlaid and studded. He hung his silver-studded sword of bronze about his shoulders, and then his mighty shield. On his comely head he set his helmet, well wrought, with a crest of horsehair than knotted menacingly above it. He grasped two redoubtable spears that suited his hands, but he did not take the spear of noble Achilles so stout and strong, for none other of the Achaeans could wield it, though Achilles could do so easily. This was the Ashen spear from Mount Pelion, which Chiron had cut upon a mountaintop and had given to Pelius, wherewith to deal out death among heroes. He bade Atomedon yoke his horses with all speed, for he was the man whom he held in honour next after Achilles, and on whose support in battle he could rely most firmly. Atomedon therefore yoked the fleet-horses Xanthus and Baleus, steeds that could fly like the wind. These were they whom the harpy Podargy bore to the west wind, as she was grazing in a meadow by the waters of the river Oceanus. In the side traces he set the noble horse Peticis, whom Achilles had brought away with him when he sacked the city of Iedion, and who, mortal steed though he was, could take his place along with those that were immortal. Meanwhile Achilles went about everywhere among the tents and bade his Myrmidons put on their armour. Even his fierce ravening wolves that are feasting upon a homed stag which they have killed upon the mountains, and their jaws are red with blood, they go in a pack to lap water from the clear spring with their long thin tongues, and they reek of blood and slaughter. They know not what fear is, for it is hunger drives them. Even so did the leaders and councillors of the Myrmidons gather round the good squire of the fleet descendant of Iacus, and among them stood Achilles himself, cheering on both men and horses. Fifty ships had noble Achilles brought the Troy, and in each there was a crew of fifty oarsmen. Over these he set five captains whom he could trust, while he was himself commander over them all. Menestheus, of the gleaming coarslet, son to the river Sparchius, that streams from heaven, was captain of the first company. Fair Polydora, daughter of Pilius, bore him to ever-flowing Sparchius, a woman mated with a god, but he was called son of Boris, son of Periris, with whom his mother was living as his wedded wife, and who gave great wealth to gain her. The second company was led by noble Eudorus, son to an unwedded woman. Polymiel, daughter of Pilius, the graceful dancer, bore him. The mighty slayer of Argos was enamored of her as he saw her among the singing women at a dance held in honour of Diana, the rushing huntress of the golden arrows. He therefore, Mercury, giver of all good, went with her into an upper chamber, and lay with her in secret. Whereon she bore him a noble son, Eudorus, singularly fleet of foot, and in fight valiant. When Illithuia, goddess of the pains of childbirth, brought him to the light of day, and he saw the face of the son, mighty Echekli's son of actor took the mother to wife and gave great wealth to gain her. But her father, Phylas, brought the child up and took care of him, doting as fondly upon him as though he were his own son. The third company was led by Pysander, son of Mimolus, the finest spearman among all the Myrmidons next to Achilles' own comrade Petroclus. The old knight Phoenix was captain of the fourth company and Alchimodon, noble son of Laersius of the fifth. When Achilles had chosen his men and had stationed them all with their captains, he charged them, straightly, saying, Myrmidons, remember your threats against the Trojans while you were at the ships in the time of my anger and you were all complaining of me. Cruel son of Pilius, you would say. Your mother must have suckled you on gall so ruthless are you. You keep us here at the ships against our will. If you are so relentless it were better we went home over the sea. Often have you gathered and thus chided with me. The hours now come for those high feats of arms that you have so long been pining for. Therefore keep high hearts, each one of you, to do battle with the Trojans. With these words he put heart and soul into them all and they serried their companies yet more closely when they heard their king. As the stones which a builder sets in the wall of some high house which is to give shelter from the winds, even so closely were the helmets and boss shields set against one another. Shield pressed on shield, helm on helm, and man on man. So close were they that the horsehair of plumes on the gleaming ridges of their helmets touched each other as they bent their heads. In front of them all two men put on their armor, a petroclist and automadon, two men, with but one mind to lead the mermadons. Then Achilles went inside his tent and opened the lid of the strong chest which silver-footed Thetis had given him to take on board ship, and which he had filled with shirts, cloaks to keep out the cold and good thick rugs. In this chest he had a cup of rare workmanship from which no man but himself might drink, nor would he make offering from it to any other god save only to Father Jove. He took the cup from the chest and cleansed it with sulfur. This done he rinsed it in clean water, and after he had washed his hands he drew wine. Then he stood in the middle of the court and prayed, looking towards heaven and making his drink offering of wine. Nor was he unseen of Jove whose joy is in thunder. King Jove, he cried, Lord of Dodona, God of the Pulaski, who dwellest afar, you who hold wintery Dodona in your sway, where your prophets the selly dwell around you with their feet unwashed and their couches made upon the ground. If you heard me when I prayed to you a foretime, and did me honour while you sent disaster on the Achaeans, vouchsave me now the fulfilment of yet this further prayer. I shall stay here where my ships are lying, but I shall send my comrade into battle at the head of many myrmidons. Grant, O all-seeing Jove, that victory may go with him, put your courage into his heart, that Hector may learn whether my squire is man enough to fight alone, or whether his might is only then so indomitable when I myself enter the turmoil of war. Afterwards, when he has chased the fight and the cry of battle from the ships, grant that he may return unharmed with his armour and his comrades, fighters in close combat. Thus did he pray, and all-counseling Jove heard his prayer. Part of it he did indeed vouchsave him, but not the whole. He granted that Petroclus should thrust back war and battle from the ships, but refused to let him come safely out of the fight. When he had made his drink-offering and had thus prayed, Achilles went inside his tent and put back the cup into his chest. Then he again came out, for he still loved to look upon the fierce fight that raged between the Trojans and the Achaeans. Meanwhile, the armed band that was about Petroclus marched on till they sprang high in hope upon the Trojans. They came swarming out like wasps whose nests are by the roadside and whom silly children love to tease whereon anyone who happens to be passing may get stung. Or again, if a wayfarer going along the road vexes them by accident, every wasp will come flying out in a fury to defend his little ones. Even with such rage and courage did the myrmidon swarm from their ships, and their cry of battle rose heavenwards. Petroclus called out to his men at the top of his voice, mermidons, followers of Achilles, son of Pelius, be men, my friends, fight with might and with main that we may win glory for the son of Pelius, who is far the foremost man at the ships of the Argives. He and his close fighting followers, the son of Atrus, King Agamemnon, will thus learn his folly in showing no respect to the bravest of the Achaeans. With these words he put heart and soul into them all, and they fell in a body upon the Trojans. The ships rang again with the cry which the Achaeans raised, and when the Trojans saw the brave son of Menetius and a squire all gleaming in their armor, they were daunted, and their battalions were thrown into confusion, for they thought the fleet's son of Pelius must now have put aside his anger and have been reconciled to Agamemnon. He won, therefore, looked round about to see whether he might fly for safety. Petroclus first aimed a spear into the middle of the press where men were packed most closely by the stern of the ship of Protesolaus. He hit Perikmes, who had led his peonian horsemen from the Amidon and the broad waters of the river Axeus. The spear struck him on the right shoulder, and with a groan he fell backwards in the dust. On this his men were thrown into confusion, or by killing their leader, who was the finest soldier among them, Petroclus struck panic into them all. He thus drove them from the ship and quenched the fire that was then blazing, leaving the half-burnt ship to lie where it was. The Trojans were now driven back with a shout that rent the skies, while the Denaeans poured after them from their ships, shouting also without ceasing. As when Jove, gatherer of the Thunder Cloud, spreads a dense canopy on the top of some lofty mountain and all the peaks, the jutting headlands and forest glades show out in the great light that flashes from the bursting heavens. Even so, when the Denaeans had now driven back the fire from their ships, they took breath for a little while. But the fury of the fight was not yet over, for the Trojans were not driven back in utter rout, but still gave battle, and were ousted from their ground only by sheer fighting. The fight then became more scattered, and the chieftains killed one another when and how they could. The valiant son of Manetius first drove his spear into the thigh of Aureliacus, just as he was turning round. The point went clean through and broke the bone so that he fell forward. Meanwhile Menelaus struck Thoas in the chest, where it was exposed near the rim of his shield, and he fell dead. The son of Phaelius saw Amphiclus about to attack him, and ere he could do so took aim at the upper part of his thigh, where the muscles are thicker than in any other part. The spear tore through all the sinews of the leg, and his eyes were closed in darkness. Of the sons of Nestor, one Antillicus, speared Etymnius, driving the point of the spear through his throat, and down he fell. Marus then sprang on Antillicus in hand-to-hand fight to avenge his brother, and bestowed the body spear in hand. But valiant Thrasymides was too quick for him, and in a moment had struck him in the shoulder ere he could deal his blow. His aim was true, and the spear severed all the muscles at the root of his arm, and tore them right down to the bone, so he fell heavily to the ground, and his eyes were closed in darkness. Thus did these two noble comrades of Sarpidon go down to Erebus, slain by the two sons of Nestor. They were the warrior-sons of Amiciderus, who had reared the invincible Chimera to the bane of many. Ajax, son of Oelius, sprang on Cleobulus alive as he was entangled in the crush, but he killed him then and there by a sword blow on the neck. The sword reeked with his blood while dark death and the strong hand of fate gripped him and closed his eyes. Penalaeus and Lycan now met in close fight, for they had missed each other with their spears. They had both thrown without effect, so now they drew their swords. Lycan struck the plumed crest of Penalaeus' helmet, but his sword broke at the hilt, while Penalaeus smote Lycan on the neck under the ear. The blade sank so deep that the head was held on by nothing but the skin, and there was no more life left in him. Marianius gave chase to Achimus on foot and caught him up just as he was about to mount his chariot. He drove a spear through his right shoulder so that he fell headlong from the car and his eyes were closed in darkness. Idominus speared Eremus in the mouth. The bronze point of the spear went clean through it beneath the brain, crashing in among the white bones and smashing them up. His teeth were all of them knocked out and the blood came gushing in a stream from both his eyes. It also came gurgling up from his mouth and nostrils and the darkness of death and folded him round about. Thus did these chieftains of the Deneans each of them kill his man, as ravening wolves seize on kids or lambs, fastening on them when they are alone on the hillsides and have strayed from the main flock through the carelessness of the shepherd, and when the wolves see this they pounce upon them at once because they cannot defend themselves. Even so did the Deneans now fall on the Trojans, who fled with ill-oamened cries in their panic and had no more fight left in them. Meanwhile great Ajax kept on trying to drive a spear into Hector, but Hector was so skillful that he held his broad shoulders well under cover of his oxide shield, ever on the lookout for the whizzing of the arrows and the heavy thud of the spears. He well knew that the fortunes of the day had changed, but still stood his ground and tried to protect his comrades. As when a cloud goes up into heaven from Olympus, rising out of a clear sky when Jove is brewing a gale, even with such panic-stricken rout did the Trojans now fly, and there was no order in their going. Hector's fleet horses bore him and his armor out of the fight, and he left the Trojan host penned in by the deep trench against their will. Many a yoke of horses snapped the pole of their chariots in the trench and left their master's car behind them. Patroclus gave chase, calling impetuously on the Deneans and full of fury against the Trojans, who, being now no longer in a body, filled all the ways with their cries of panic and rout. The air was darkened with the clouds of dust they raised, and the horses strained every nerve in their flight from the tents and ships towards the city. Patroclus kept on heading his horses wherever he saw most men flying in confusion, cheering on his men the while. Chariots were being smashed in all directions, and many a man came tumbling down from his own car to fall beneath the wheels of that of Patroclus, whose immortal steeds, given by the gods to Pilius, sprang over the trench at a bound as they sped onward. He was intent on trying to get near Hector, for he had set his heart on spearing him, but Hector's horses were now hurrying him away. As the whole dark earth bows before some tempest on an autumn day when Jove reigns his hardest to punish men for giving crooked judgment in their courts, and deriving justice therefrom without heed to the decrees of heaven, all the rivers run full and the torrents tear many a new channel as they roar headlong from the mountains to the dark sea, and it fares ill with the works of men. Even such was the stress and strain of the Trojan horses in their flight. Patroclus now cut off the battalions that were nearest to him and drove them back to the ships. They were doing their best to reach the city, but he would not let them and bore down on them between the river and the ships and wall. Many a fallen comrade did he then avenge. First he hit Pranois with a spear on the chest where it was exposed near the rim of his shield, and he fell heavily to the ground. Next he sprang on Thestor, son of Enobs, who was sitting all huddled up in his chariot, for he had lost his head and the reins had been torn out of his hands. Patroclus went up to him and drove his spear into his right jaw. He thus hooked him by the teeth and the spear pulled him over the rim of his car as one who sits at the end of some jutting rock and draws a strong fish out of the sea with a hook and a line. Even so with his spear did he pull Thestor all gaping from his chariot. He then threw him down on his face and he died while falling. On this, as Aereleus was on to attack him, he struck him full on the head with the stone and his brains were all battered inside his helmet whereon he fell headlong to the ground and the pangs of death took hold upon him. Then he laid low, one after the other, Eremus, Amphaterus, Ipaltes, Clepollimus, Echius, son of Damostor, Pyrrhus, Iphius, Eupis, and Polymalus, son of Argeus. Now when Sarpedon saw his comrades, men who wore ungirdled tunics, being overcome by Petroclus, son of Manetius, he rebuked the Lyceans, saying, Shame on you! Where are you flying to? Show your medal. I will myself meet this man and fight and learn who it is that is so masterful. He has done us much hurt and has stretched many a brave man upon the ground. He sprang from his chariot as he spoke, Petroclus, when he saw this, leaped onto the ground also. The two then rushed at one another with loud cries like eagle-beaked, crook-talented vultures that scream and tear at one another in some high mountain fastness. The son of Scheming-Saturn looked down upon them in pity and said to Juno, who was his wife and sister, alas that it should be the lot of Sarpedon whom I love so dearly to perish by the hand of Petroclus. I am in two minds whether to catch him up out of the fight and set him down safe and sound in the fertile land of Lycea or to let him now fall by the hand of the son of Manetius. And Juno answered, Most dread son of Saturn, what is this that you are saying? Would you snatch a mortal man whose doom has long been faded out of the jaws of death? Do as you will, but we shall not all of us be of your mind. I say further and lay my saying to your heart that if you send Sarpedon safely to his own home some other of the gods will be also wanting to escort his son out of battle for there are many sons of gods fighting round the city of Troy and you will make everyone jealous. If, however, you are fond of him and pity him, let him indeed fall by the hand of Petroclus, but as soon as the life has gone out of him send death and sweet sleep to bear him off the field and take him to the broad lands of Lycea where his brothers and his kinsmen will bury him with mound and pillar and do honour to the dead. The sire of gods and men assented, but he shed a rain of blood upon the earth in honour of his son whom Petroclus was about to kill on the rich plain of Troy far from his home. When they were now come close to one another Petroclus struck Thrasidimas, the brave squire of Sarpedon in the lower part of the belly and killed him. Sarpedon then aimed a spear at Petroclus and missed him, but he struck the horse, Petosus, in the right shoulder and it screamed aloud as it lay, groaning in the dust until the life went out of it. The other two horses began to plunge. The pole of the chariot cracked and they got entangled in the rains through the fall of the horse that was yoked along with them. But Atomedon knew what to do. Without the loss of a moment he drew the keen blade that hung by his sturdy thigh and cut the third horse adrift. Whereon the other two righted themselves and pulling hard at the rains again went together into battle. Sarpedon now took a second aim at Petroclus and again missed him, the point of the spear passed over his left shoulder without hitting him. Petroclus then aimed in his turn and the spear sped not from his hand in vain for he hit Sarpedon just where the midriff surrounds the ever-beating heart. He fell like some oak or silver poplar or tall pine to which Woodman had laid their axes upon the mountains to make timber for ship-building. Even so did Eli stretched at full length in front of his chariot and horses moaning and clutching at the blood-stained dust. As when a lion springs with a bound upon a herd of cattle and fastens on a great black bull which dies bellowing in its clutches even so did the leader of the Lycean warriors struggle in death as he fell by the hand of Petroclus. He called on his trusty comrade Gleacus, my brother, hero among heroes, put forth all your strength, fight with might and main, now if ever quit yourself like a valiant soldier. First go about among the Lycean captains and bid them fight for Sarpedon. Then yourself also do battle to save my armor from being taken. My name will haunt you henceforth and forever if the Achaeans rob me of my armor now that I have fallen at their ships. Do your very utmost and call all my people together. Death closed his eyes as he spoke. Petroclus planted his heel on his breast and drew the spear from his body whereon his senses came out along with it and he drew out both spearpoint and Sarpedon's soul at the same time. Hard by the myrmidons held his snorting steeds who were wild with panic at finding themselves deserted by their lords. Gleacus was overcome with grief when he heard what Sarpedon said, for he could not help him. He had to support his arm with his other hand, being in great pain through the wound which Teucer's arrow had given him when Teucer was defending the wall as he, Gleacus, was assailing it. Therefore he prayed to far-darting Apollo, saying, Hear me, O king, from your seat. May be in the rich land of Lycea or may be in Troy, for in all places you can hear the prayer of one who is in distress, as I now am. I have a grievous wound. My hand is aching with pain. There is no staunching the blood and my whole arm drags by reason of my hurt so that I cannot grasp my sword nor go among my foes and fight them. Thou our prince, Jove's son Sarpedon is slain. Jove defended not his son. Do you, therefore, O king, heal me of my wound, ease my pain and grant me strength both to cheer on the Lyceans and to fight along with them round the body of him who has fallen? Thus did he pray that Apollo heard his prayer. He eased his pain, staunched the black blood from the wound, and gave him new strength. Glaeacus perceived this and was thankful that the mighty God had answered his prayer. Forthwith, therefore, he went among the Lycean captains and bade them come to fight about the body of Sarpedon. From these he strode on among the Trojans to Poletimus, son of Pantois, and Aginor. He then went on in search of Enius and Hector, and when he had found them he said, Hector, you have utterly forgotten your allies who languish here for your sake far from friends and home while you do nothing to support them. Sarpedon, leader of the Lycean warriors, has fallen. He who was at once the right and might of Lycea, Mars has laid him low by the spear of Petroclus. Stand by him, my friends, and suffer not the myrmidons to strip him of his armor, nor to treat his body with contumaly and revenge for the denayans whom we have speared at the ships. As he spoke, the Trojans were plunged in extreme and ungovernable grief. For Sarpedon, alien though he was, had been one of the main stays of their city, both as having much people with him and himself the foremost among them all. Led by Hector, who was infuriated by the fall of Sarpedon, they made instantly for the denayans with all their might while the undaunted spirit of Petroclus, Maneitius, cheered on the Achaeans. First he spoke to the two Ajaxes, men who needed no bidding. Ajaxes, said he, may it now please you to show yourselves the men who have always been, or even better, Sarpedon has fallen, he who was first to overleap the wall of the Achaeans. Let us take the body and outrage it, let us strip the armor from his shoulders and kill his comrades if they try to rescue his body. He spoke to men who of themselves were full eager. Both sides, therefore, the Trojans and Lycians on the one hand and the Mermidans and Achaeans on the other, strengthened their battalions and fought desperately about the body of Sarpedon, shouting fiercely the while. Mighty was the den of their armor as they came together and Joves shed a thick darkness over the fight to increase the toil of the battle over the body of his son. At first the Trojans made some headway against the Achaeans, for one of the best men among the Mermidans was killed, a Piagius, son of Noble Agakles, who had airwild been king in the good city of Bodium. But presently, having killed the valiant kinsmen of his own, he took refuge with Peleus and Thetis, who sent him to Ilius, the land of Noble Steeds, to fight the Trojans under Achilles. Hector now struck him on the head with a stone just as he had caught hold of the body, and his brains inside his helmet were all battered in so that he fell face foremost upon the body of Sarpedon, and there died. Petroclus was enraged by the death of his comrade and sped through the front ranks as swiftly as a hawk that swoops down on a flock of Daz or Starlings. Even so swiftly, O noble knight Petroclus, did you make straight for the Lysians and Trojans to avenge your comrade? Fourth with he struck Sthenelaus, the son of Ithemenes, on the neck with a stone, and broke the tendons that join it to the head and spine. On this, Hector and the front rank of his men gave ground. As far as a man can throw a javelin when competing for some prize, or even in battle, so far did the Trojans now retreat before the Achaeans. Gleicus, captain of the Lysians, was the first to rally them, by killing Bathakles, son of Khaosan, who lived in Helus, and was the richest man among the Myrmidons. Gleicus turned round suddenly, just as Bathakles, who was pursuing him, was about to lay hold of him, and drove his spear right into the middle of his chest, whereon he fell heavily to the ground, and the fall of so good a man filled the Achaeans with dismay, while the Trojans were exultant and came up in a body round the corpse. Nevertheless, the Achaeans, mindful of their prowess, bore straight down upon them. Myriones then killed a helmed warrior of the Trojans, Leogenus, son of Onidar, who was the priest of Jove of Mount Ida, and was honoured by the people as though he were a god. Myriones struck him under the jaw and the ear, so that life went out of him, and the darkness of death laid hold upon him. Enius then aimed a spear at Myriones, hoping to hit him under the shield as he was advancing. But Myriones saw it coming and stooped forward to avoid it, whereon the spear flew past him and the point stuck in the ground, while the butt end went on quivering till Mars robbed it of its force. The spear, therefore, sped from Enius's hand in vain and fell quivering to the ground. Enius was angry and said, Myriones, you are a good dancer, but if I had hit you my spear would soon have made an end of you. And Myriones answered, Enius, for all your bravery you will not be able to make an end of every one who comes against you. You are only immortal like myself, and if I were to hit you in the middle of your shield with my spear, however strong and self-confident you may be, I should soon vanquish you and you would yield your life to Hades of the noble steeds. On this the son of Manetius rebuked him and said, Myriones, hero though you may be, you should not speak thus. Taunting speeches, my good friend, will not make the Trojans draw away from the dead body. Some of them must go underground first. Blows for battle and words for counsel. Fight, therefore, and say nothing. He led the way as he spoke and the hero went forward with him. As the sound of woodcutters in some forest glade upon the mountains and the thud of their axes is heard afar, even such a din now rose from earth-clash of bronze armor and of good oxide shields as men smote each other with their swords and spears pointed at both ends. A man had need of good eyesight now to no-sarpitin, so covered was he from head to foot with spears and blood and dust. Men swarmed about the body as flies that buzz around the full milk-pales and spring when they are brimming with milk. Even so did they gather round sarpitin. Nordid Jove turned his keen eyes away for one moment from the fight, but kept looking at it all the time, for he was settling how best to kill Petroklis and considering whether Hector should be allowed to end him now in the fight round the body of sarpitin and strip him of his armor or whether he should let him give yet further trouble to the Trojans. In the end he deemed it best that the brave squire of Achilles' son of Pilius should drive Hector and the Trojans back towards the city and take the lives of many. First, therefore, he made Hector turn faint-hearted, whereon he mounted his chariot and fled, bidding the other Trojans fly also, for he saw that the scales of Jove had turned against him. Neither would the brave Lyceans stand firm. They were dismayed when they saw their king lying struck to the heart amid a heap of corpses, for when the son of Saturn made the fight wax-hot, many had fallen above him. The Achians, therefore, stripped the gleaming armor from his shoulders and the brave son of Manetius, gave it to his men to take to the ships. Then Jove, lord of the storm-cloud, said to Apollo, Dear Phoebus, go, I pray you, and take Sarpitin out of range of the weapons. Cleanse the black blood from off him and then bear him a long way off, where you may wash him in the river, in ambrosia, and clothe him in immortal raiment. This done commit him to the arms of the two fleet messengers, Death and Sleep, who will carry him straightway to the rich land of Lycea, where his brothers and kinsmen will inter him, and will raise both mound and pillar to his memory in due honour to the dead. Thus he spoke. Apollo obeyed his father's saying and came down from the heights of Ida into the thick of the fight. Fourthwith he took Sarpitin out of range of the weapons and then bore him a long way off, where he washed him in the river, anointed him with ambrosia, and clothe him in immortal raiment. This done he committed him to the arms of the two fleet messengers, Death and Sleep, who presently set him down in the rich land of Lycea. Meanwhile Petroclus, with many a shout to his horses and to Atomedon, pursued the Trojans and Lyceans in the pride and foolishness of his heart. Had he but obeyed the bidding of the son of Pilius, he would have escaped death and have been scatheless. But the councils of Jove passed man's understanding. He will put even a brave man to flight and snatch victory from his grasp, or again he will set him on to fight, as he now did when he put a high spirit into the heart of Petroclus. Who then first and who last was slain by you of Petroclus when the gods had now called you to meet your doom? First, Adreistus, Atonois, Achaeclus, Perimus the son of Migus, Epistor, and Melanipus. After these he killed Elisus, Muleus, and Pilarides. These he slew, but the rest saved themselves by flight. The sons of the Achaeans would now have taken Troy by the hands of Petroclus, for his spear flew in all directions, had not Phoebus Apollo taken to stand upon the wall to aid his purpose and to aid the Trojans. Thrice did Petroclus' charge at an angle of the high wall. And Thrice did Apollo beat him back, striking his shield with his own immortal hands. When Petroclus was coming on like a god for yet a fourth time, Apollo shouted to him with an awful voice and said, Draw back, noble Petroclus! It is not your lot to sack the city of the Trojan chieftains. Nor yet will it be that of Achilles who is a far better man than you are. On hearing this Petroclus withdrew to some distance and avoided the anger of Apollo. Meanwhile Hector was waiting with his horses inside the Scean gates, in doubt whether to drive out again and go on fighting or to call the army inside the gates. As he was thus doubting, Phoebus Apollo drew near him in the likeness of a young and lusty warrior, Asias, who was Hector's uncle, being own brother to Hecuba and son of Daimus, who lived in Frigia, in the waters of the River Sangerius. In his likeness, Jov's son Apollo now spoke to Hector, saying, Hector, why have you left off fighting? It is ill done of you. If I were as much better a man than you, as I am worse, you should soon rue your slackness. Drive straight towards Petroclus, if so be, that Apollo may grant you a triumph over him, and you may rule him. With this the god went back into the Hurly Burly and laid Cibriones drive again into the fight. Apollo passed in among them and struck panic into the Argyves while he gave triumph to Hector and the Trojans. Hector let the other Denaeans alone and killed no man, but drove straight at Petroclus. Petroclus then sprang from his chariot to the ground with a spear in his left hand and in his right a jagged stone as large as his hand could hold. He stood still and threw it, nor did it go far without hitting someone. The cast was not in vain, for the stone struck Cibriones, Hector's charioteer, a bastard son of Priam, as he held the reins in his hands. The stone hit him on the forehead and drove his brows into his head for the bone was smashed, and his eyes fell to the ground at his feet. He dropped dead from his chariot as though he were diving, and there was no more life left in him. Over him did you then vaunt O' Knight Petroclus, saying, Bless my heart how active he is and how well he dives. If he had been at sea this fellow would have dived from the ship's side and brought up as many oysters as the whole crew could stomach, even in rough water, for he has dived beautifully off his chariot onto the ground. It seems then that there are divers also among the Trojans. As he spoke he flung himself on Cibriones with the spring, as it were, of a lion that while attacking a stockyard is himself struck in the chest, and the courage is his own bane. Even so furiously, O' Petroclus, did you then spring upon Cibriones. Hector sprang also from his chariot to the ground. The pair then fought over the body of Cibriones. As two lions fight fiercely on some high mountain over the body of a stag that they have killed, even so did these two mighty warriors, Petroclus, son of Menetius, and brave Hector, hack and hew at one another over the corpse of Cibriones. Hector would not let him go unless he once got him by the head, while Petroclus kept fast hold of his feet, and a fierce fight raged between the other Denaeans and Trojans. As the east and south wind buffet one another when they beat upon some dense forest on the mountains, there is beach and ash and spreading cornel, the top of the trees roars they beat on one another, and one can hear the boughs cracking and breaking. Even so did the Trojans and Achaeans spring upon one another and lay about each other, and neither side would give way. Many a pointed spear fell to the ground, and many a winged arrow sped from its bowstring about the body of Cibriones. Many a great stone, moreover, beat on many a shield as they fought around his body, but there he lay in the whirling clouds of dust, all huge and hugely heedless of his driving now. So long as the sun was still high in mid-heaven, the weapons of either side were alike deadly people fell. But when he went down towards the time when men loose their oxen, the Achaeans proved to be beyond all forecast stronger so that they drew Cibriones out of range of the darts and tumult of the Trojans, and stripped the armor from his shoulders. Then Petroclas sprang like Mars with fierce intent and a terrific shout upon the Trojans, and thriced it he killed nine men. But as he was coming on like a god for a time then, oh Petroclas, was the hour of your end approaching, for Phoebus fought you and fell earnest. Petroclas did not see him as he moved about in the crush for he was enshrouded in thick darkness, and the god struck him from behind on his back and on his broad shoulders with the flat of his hand, so that his eyes turned dizzy. Phoebus Apollo beat the helmet from off his head, and it rolled rattling off under the horse's feet, where its horse-hair plumes were all begrimed with dust and blood. Never indeed had that helmet fared so before, for it had served to protect the head and comely forehead of the godlike hero Achilles. Now, however, Zeus delivered it over to be worn by Hector. Nevertheless the end of Hector also was near. The bronze shod spear, so great and so strong, was broken in the hand of Petroclas, while his shield that covered him from head to foot fell to the ground as did also the band that held it, and Apollo undid his coarselet. On this his mind became clouded. His limbs failed him and he stood as one dazed. Whereon Euphorbis, son of Pantois, a Dardanian, the best spearman of his time, as also the finest horseman and the flitest runner, came behind him and struck him in the back with a spear, midway between the shoulders. This man, as soon as ever he had come up with his chariot, had dismounted twenty men, so proficient was he in all the time. He it was, O Knight Petroclas, that first drove a weapon into you, but he did not quite overpower you. Euphorbis then ran back into the crowd after drawing his ashen spear out of the wound. He would not stand firm and wait for Petroclas, unarmed though he now was, to attack him. But Petroclas, unnerved, alike by the blow the God had given him and by the spear wound, drew back under cover of his men in fear for his life. He seemed to be wounded in giving ground, forced his way through the ranks, and when close-up with him struck him in the lower part of the belly with a spear, driving the bronze point right through it, so that he fell heavily to the ground to the great of the Achaeans. As when a lion has fought some fierce wild boar and worsted him, the two fight furiously upon the mountain over some little fountain at which they would both drink, and the lion has beaten the boar till he can free him, take the life of the brave son of Menetius who had killed so many, striking him from close at hand, and vaunting over him the wild. Petroclas, said he, you deemed that you should sack our city, rob our Trojan women of their freedom, and carry them off in your ships to your own country. Fool! Hector and his fleet horses were ever straining their utmost to defend them. I am foremost of all the Trojan warriors to stave the men with them. As for you, vultures shall devour you here. Poor wretch, Achilles with all his bravery availed you nothing, and yet Iween when you left him he charged you straightly, saying, Come not back to the ships, Knight Petroclas, till you have rent the blood-stained shirt of murderous Hector about his body. Thus Iween did he charge you, and your fool's heart answered him yay within you. Then, as the life ebbed out of you, you answered Hector, vaunt as you will, for Jove, the son of Saturn, and Apollo have vouchsafed you victory. It is they who have vanquished me so easily, and they who have stripped the armor from my shoulders. Had twenty such men as you attacked me, all of them would have fallen before my spear. Fate and the son of Lido have overpowered me, and among mortal men you forbes. You are yourself third only in the killing of me. I say further, and lay my saying to your heart, I will live but for a little season. Death and the day of your doom are close upon you, and they will lay you low by the hand of Achilles' son of Iacus. When he had thus spoken his eyes were closed in death. His soul left his body and flitted down to the house of Hades, mourning its sad fate and bidding farewell to the youth and vigor of its manhood. Dead though he was, Hector still spoke to him, saying, Petroclas, why should you thus foretell my doom? Who knows but Achilles' son of lovely Thedas may be smitten by my spear and die before me? As he spoke he drew the bronze spear from the wound, planting his foot upon the body, which he thrust off and let lie on its back. He then went spear in hand after Atomedon, squire of the fleet, descendant of Iacus, for he longed to lay him low, but the immortal steeds which the gods had given as a rich gift to Pilius bore him swiftly from the field. End of Book 16 of the Iliad.