The Fall of Troy [105]
daughter Polyxeina led -- Whom as my portion of the spoil I claim -- And sacrificed thereon: else shall my wrath Against them more than for Briseis burn. The waves of the great deep will I turmoil To bar their way, upstirring storm on storm, That through their own mad folly pining away Here they may linger long, until to me They pour drink-offerings, yearning sore for home. But, when they have slain the maiden, I grudge not That whoso will may bury her far from me."
Then as a wind-breath swift he fleeted thence, And came to the Elysian Plain, whereto A path to heaven reacheth, for the feet Ascending and descending of the Blest. Then the son started up from sleep, and called His sire to mind, and glowed the heart in him.
When to wide heaven the Child of Mist uprose, Scattering night, unveiling earth and air, Then from their rest upsprang Achaea's sons Yearning for home. With laughter 'gan they hale Down to the sea the keels: but lo, their haste Was reined in by Achilles' mighty son:
He assembled them, and told his sire's behest: "Hearken, dear sons of Argives battle-staunch, To this my glorious father's hest, to me Spoken in darkness slumbering on my bed: He saith, he dwells with the Immortal Gods: He biddeth you and Atreus' son the king To bring, as his war-guerdon passing-fair, To his dim dark tomb Polyxeina queenly-robed, To slay her there, but far thence bury her. But if ye slight him, and essay to sail The sea, he threateneth to stir up the waves To bar your path upon the deep, and here Storm-bound long time to hold you, ships and men."
Then hearkened they, and as to a God they prayed; For even now a storm-blast on the sea Upheaved the waves, broad-backed and thronging fast More than before beneath the madding wind. Tossed the great deep, smit by Poseidon's hands For a grace to strong Achilles. All the winds Swooped on the waters. Prayed the Dardans all To Achilles, and a man to his fellow cried: "Great Zeus's seed Achilles verily was; Therefore is he a God, who in days past Dwelt among us; for lapse of dateless time Makes not the sons of Heaven to fade away."
Then to Achilles' tomb the host returned, And led the maid, as calf by herdmen dragged For sacrifice, from woodland pastures torn From its mother's side, and lowing long and loud It moans with anguished heart; so Priam's child Wailed in the hands of foes. Down streamed her tears As when beneath the heavy sacks of sand Olives clear-skinned, ne'er blotched by drops of storm, Pour out their oil, when the long levers creak As strong men strain the cords; so poured the tears Of travail-burdened Priam's daughter, haled To stern Achilles' tomb, tears blent with moans. Drenched were her bosom-folds, glistened the drops On flesh clear-white as costly ivory.
Then, to crown all her griefs, yet sharper pain Fell on the heart of hapless Hecuba. Then did her soul recall that awful dream, The vision of sleep of that night overpast: Herseemed that on Achilles' tomb she stood Moaning, her hair down-streaming to the ground, And from her breasts blood dripped to earth the while, And drenched the tomb. Fear-haunted touching this, Foreboding all calamity, she wailed Piteously; far rang her wild lament. As a dog moaning at her master's door, Utters long howls, her teats with milk distent, Whose whelps, ere their eyes opened to the light, Her lords afar have flung, a prey to kites; And now with short sharp cries she plains, and now Long howling: the weird outcry thrills the air; So wailed and shrieked for her child Hecuba: "Ah me! what sorrows first or last shall I Lament heart-anguished, who am full of woes? Those unimagined ills my sons, my king Have suffered? or my city, or daughters shamed? Or my despair, my day of slavery? Oh, the grim fates have caught me in a net Of manifold ills! O child, they have spun for thee Dread weird of unimagined misery! They have thrust thee away, when near was Hymen"s hymn, From thine espousals, marked thee for destruction Dark, unendurable, unspeakable! For lo, a dead man's heart, Achilles' heart, Is by our blood made warm
Then as a wind-breath swift he fleeted thence, And came to the Elysian Plain, whereto A path to heaven reacheth, for the feet Ascending and descending of the Blest. Then the son started up from sleep, and called His sire to mind, and glowed the heart in him.
When to wide heaven the Child of Mist uprose, Scattering night, unveiling earth and air, Then from their rest upsprang Achaea's sons Yearning for home. With laughter 'gan they hale Down to the sea the keels: but lo, their haste Was reined in by Achilles' mighty son:
He assembled them, and told his sire's behest: "Hearken, dear sons of Argives battle-staunch, To this my glorious father's hest, to me Spoken in darkness slumbering on my bed: He saith, he dwells with the Immortal Gods: He biddeth you and Atreus' son the king To bring, as his war-guerdon passing-fair, To his dim dark tomb Polyxeina queenly-robed, To slay her there, but far thence bury her. But if ye slight him, and essay to sail The sea, he threateneth to stir up the waves To bar your path upon the deep, and here Storm-bound long time to hold you, ships and men."
Then hearkened they, and as to a God they prayed; For even now a storm-blast on the sea Upheaved the waves, broad-backed and thronging fast More than before beneath the madding wind. Tossed the great deep, smit by Poseidon's hands For a grace to strong Achilles. All the winds Swooped on the waters. Prayed the Dardans all To Achilles, and a man to his fellow cried: "Great Zeus's seed Achilles verily was; Therefore is he a God, who in days past Dwelt among us; for lapse of dateless time Makes not the sons of Heaven to fade away."
Then to Achilles' tomb the host returned, And led the maid, as calf by herdmen dragged For sacrifice, from woodland pastures torn From its mother's side, and lowing long and loud It moans with anguished heart; so Priam's child Wailed in the hands of foes. Down streamed her tears As when beneath the heavy sacks of sand Olives clear-skinned, ne'er blotched by drops of storm, Pour out their oil, when the long levers creak As strong men strain the cords; so poured the tears Of travail-burdened Priam's daughter, haled To stern Achilles' tomb, tears blent with moans. Drenched were her bosom-folds, glistened the drops On flesh clear-white as costly ivory.
Then, to crown all her griefs, yet sharper pain Fell on the heart of hapless Hecuba. Then did her soul recall that awful dream, The vision of sleep of that night overpast: Herseemed that on Achilles' tomb she stood Moaning, her hair down-streaming to the ground, And from her breasts blood dripped to earth the while, And drenched the tomb. Fear-haunted touching this, Foreboding all calamity, she wailed Piteously; far rang her wild lament. As a dog moaning at her master's door, Utters long howls, her teats with milk distent, Whose whelps, ere their eyes opened to the light, Her lords afar have flung, a prey to kites; And now with short sharp cries she plains, and now Long howling: the weird outcry thrills the air; So wailed and shrieked for her child Hecuba: "Ah me! what sorrows first or last shall I Lament heart-anguished, who am full of woes? Those unimagined ills my sons, my king Have suffered? or my city, or daughters shamed? Or my despair, my day of slavery? Oh, the grim fates have caught me in a net Of manifold ills! O child, they have spun for thee Dread weird of unimagined misery! They have thrust thee away, when near was Hymen"s hymn, From thine espousals, marked thee for destruction Dark, unendurable, unspeakable! For lo, a dead man's heart, Achilles' heart, Is by our blood made warm