The Fall of Troy [12]
Titans in the nether gloom he had lain, Who dared defy the eternal will of Zeus.
Then did the warrior sons of Argos strip With eager haste from corpses strown all round The blood-stained spoils. But ever Peleus' son Gazed, wild with all regret, still gazed on her, The strong, the beautiful, laid in the dust; And all his heart was wrung, was broken down With sorrowing love, deep, strong as he had known When that beloved friend Patroclus died.
Loud jeered Thersites, mocking to his face: "Thou sorry-souled Achilles! art not shamed To let some evil Power beguile thine heart To pity of a pitiful Amazon Whose furious spirit purposed naught but ill To us and ours? Ha, woman-mad art thou, And thy soul lusts for this thing, as she were Some lady wise in household ways, with gifts And pure intent for honoured wedlock wooed! Good had it been had her spear reached thine heart, The heart that sighs for woman-creatures still! Thou carest not, unmanly-souled, not thou, For valour's glorious path, when once thine eye Lights on a woman! Sorry wretch, where now Is all thy goodly prowess? where thy wit? And where the might that should beseem a king All-stainless? Dost not know what misery This self-same woman-madness wrought for Troy? Nothing there is to men more ruinous Than lust for woman's beauty; it maketh fools Of wise men. But the toil of war attains Renown. To him that is a hero indeed Glory of victory and the War-god's works Are sweet. 'Tis but the battle-blencher craves The beauty and the bed of such as she!"
So railed he long and loud: the mighty heart Of Peleus' son leapt into flame of wrath. A sudden buffet of his resistless hand Smote 'neath the railer's ear, and all his teeth Were dashed to the earth: he fell upon his face: Forth of his lips the blood in torrent gushed: Swift from his body fled the dastard soul Of that vile niddering. Achaea's sons Rejoiced thereat, for aye he wont to rail On each and all with venomous gibes, himself A scandal and the shame of all the host. Then mid the warrior Argives cried a voice: "Not good it is for baser men to rail On kings, or secretly or openly; For wrathful retribution swiftly comes. The Lady of Justice sits on high; and she Who heapeth woe on woe on humankind, Even Ate, punisheth the shameless tongue."
So mid the Danaans cried a voice: nor yet Within the mighty soul of Peleus' son Lulled was the storm of wrath, but fiercely he spake: "Lie there in dust, thy follies all forgot! 'Tis not for knaves to beard their betters: once Thou didst provoke Odysseus' steadfast soul, Babbling with venomous tongue a thousand gibes, And didst escape with life; but thou hast found The son of Peleus not so patient-souled, Who with one only buffet from his hand Unkennels thy dog's soul! A bitter doom Hath swallowed thee: by thine own rascalry Thy life is sped. Hence from Achaean men, And mouth out thy revilings midst the dead!"
So spake the valiant-hearted aweless son Of Aeacus. But Tydeus' son alone Of all the Argives was with anger stirred Against Achilles for Thersites slain, Seeing these twain were of the self-same blood, The one, proud Tydeus' battle-eager son, The other, seed of godlike Agrius: Brother of noble Oeneus Agrius was; And Oeneus in the Danaan land begat Tydeus the battle-eager, son to whom Was stalwart Diomedes. Therefore wroth Was he for slain Thersites, yea, had raised Against the son of Peleus vengeful hands, Exeept the noblest of Aehaea's sons Had thronged around him, and besought him sore, And held him back therefrom. With Peleus' son Also they pleaded; else those mighty twain, The mightiest of all Argives, were at point To close with clash of swords, so stung were they With bitter wrath; yet hearkened they at last To prayers of comrades, and were reconciled.
Then of their pity did the Atreid kings -- For these too at the imperial loveliness Of Penthesileia marvelled -- render up Her body to the men of Troy, to bear Unto the burg of Ilus far-renowned With all her armour. For a herald came Asking this boon for Priam; for the king Longed with deep
Then did the warrior sons of Argos strip With eager haste from corpses strown all round The blood-stained spoils. But ever Peleus' son Gazed, wild with all regret, still gazed on her, The strong, the beautiful, laid in the dust; And all his heart was wrung, was broken down With sorrowing love, deep, strong as he had known When that beloved friend Patroclus died.
Loud jeered Thersites, mocking to his face: "Thou sorry-souled Achilles! art not shamed To let some evil Power beguile thine heart To pity of a pitiful Amazon Whose furious spirit purposed naught but ill To us and ours? Ha, woman-mad art thou, And thy soul lusts for this thing, as she were Some lady wise in household ways, with gifts And pure intent for honoured wedlock wooed! Good had it been had her spear reached thine heart, The heart that sighs for woman-creatures still! Thou carest not, unmanly-souled, not thou, For valour's glorious path, when once thine eye Lights on a woman! Sorry wretch, where now Is all thy goodly prowess? where thy wit? And where the might that should beseem a king All-stainless? Dost not know what misery This self-same woman-madness wrought for Troy? Nothing there is to men more ruinous Than lust for woman's beauty; it maketh fools Of wise men. But the toil of war attains Renown. To him that is a hero indeed Glory of victory and the War-god's works Are sweet. 'Tis but the battle-blencher craves The beauty and the bed of such as she!"
So railed he long and loud: the mighty heart Of Peleus' son leapt into flame of wrath. A sudden buffet of his resistless hand Smote 'neath the railer's ear, and all his teeth Were dashed to the earth: he fell upon his face: Forth of his lips the blood in torrent gushed: Swift from his body fled the dastard soul Of that vile niddering. Achaea's sons Rejoiced thereat, for aye he wont to rail On each and all with venomous gibes, himself A scandal and the shame of all the host. Then mid the warrior Argives cried a voice: "Not good it is for baser men to rail On kings, or secretly or openly; For wrathful retribution swiftly comes. The Lady of Justice sits on high; and she Who heapeth woe on woe on humankind, Even Ate, punisheth the shameless tongue."
So mid the Danaans cried a voice: nor yet Within the mighty soul of Peleus' son Lulled was the storm of wrath, but fiercely he spake: "Lie there in dust, thy follies all forgot! 'Tis not for knaves to beard their betters: once Thou didst provoke Odysseus' steadfast soul, Babbling with venomous tongue a thousand gibes, And didst escape with life; but thou hast found The son of Peleus not so patient-souled, Who with one only buffet from his hand Unkennels thy dog's soul! A bitter doom Hath swallowed thee: by thine own rascalry Thy life is sped. Hence from Achaean men, And mouth out thy revilings midst the dead!"
So spake the valiant-hearted aweless son Of Aeacus. But Tydeus' son alone Of all the Argives was with anger stirred Against Achilles for Thersites slain, Seeing these twain were of the self-same blood, The one, proud Tydeus' battle-eager son, The other, seed of godlike Agrius: Brother of noble Oeneus Agrius was; And Oeneus in the Danaan land begat Tydeus the battle-eager, son to whom Was stalwart Diomedes. Therefore wroth Was he for slain Thersites, yea, had raised Against the son of Peleus vengeful hands, Exeept the noblest of Aehaea's sons Had thronged around him, and besought him sore, And held him back therefrom. With Peleus' son Also they pleaded; else those mighty twain, The mightiest of all Argives, were at point To close with clash of swords, so stung were they With bitter wrath; yet hearkened they at last To prayers of comrades, and were reconciled.
Then of their pity did the Atreid kings -- For these too at the imperial loveliness Of Penthesileia marvelled -- render up Her body to the men of Troy, to bear Unto the burg of Ilus far-renowned With all her armour. For a herald came Asking this boon for Priam; for the king Longed with deep