The Fall of Troy [19]
where in throngs the Argives fell Beneath his spear. Forthright he turned away From where the rifted ranks of Troy fell fast Before his hands, and, thirsting for the fight, Wroth for Antilochus and the others slain, Came face to face with Memnon. In his hands That godlike hero caught up from the ground A stone, a boundary-mark 'twixt fields of wheat, And hurled. Down on the shield of Peleus' son It crashed. But he, the invincible, shrank not Before the huge rock-shard, but, thrusting out His long lance, rushed to close with him, afoot, For his steeds stayed behind the battle-rout. On the right shoulder above the shield he smote And staggered him; but he, despite the wound, Fought on with heart unquailing. Swiftly he thrust And pricked with his strong spear Achilles' arm. Forth gushed the blood: rejoicing with vain joy To Aeacus' son with arrogant words he cried: "Now shalt thou in thy death fill up, I trow, Thy dark doom, overmastered by mine hands. Thou shalt not from this fray escape alive! Fool, wherefore hast thou ruthlessly destroyed Trojans, and vaunted thee the mightiest man Of men, a deathless Nereid's son? Ha, now Thy doom hath found thee! Of birth divine am I, The Dawn-queen's mighty son, nurtured afar By lily-slender Hesperid Maids, beside The Ocean-river. Therefore not from thee Nor from grim battle shrink I, knowing well How far my goddess-mother doth transcend A Nereid, whose child thou vauntest thee. To Gods and men my mother bringeth light; On her depends the issue of all things, Works great and glorious in Olympus wrought Whereof comes blessing unto men. But thine -- She sits in barren crypts of brine: she dwells Glorying mid dumb sea-monsters and mid fish, Deedless, unseen! Nothing I reck of her, Nor rank her with the immortal Heavenly Ones."
In stern rebuke spake Aeacus' aweless son: "Memnon, how wast thou so distraught of wit That thou shouldst face me, and to fight defy Me, who in might, in blood, in stature far Surpass thee? From supremest Zeus I trace My glorious birth; and from the strong Sea-god Nereus, begetter of the Maids of the Sea, The Nereids, honoured of the Olympian Gods. And chiefest of them all is Thetis, wise With wisdom world-renowned; for in her bowers She sheltered Dionysus, chased by might Of murderous Lycurgus from the earth. Yea, and the cunning God-smith welcomed she Within her mansion, when from heaven he fell. Ay, and the Lightning-lord she once released From bonds. The all-seeing Dwellers in the Sky Remember all these things, and reverence My mother Thetis in divine Olympus. Ay, that she is a Goddess shalt thou know When to thine heart the brazen spear shall pierce Sped by my might. Patroclus' death I avenged On Hector, and Antilochus on thee Will I avenge. No weakling's friend thou hast slain! But why like witless children stand we here Babbling our parents' fame and our own deeds? Now is the hour when prowess shall decide."
Then from the sheath he flashed his long keen sword, And Memnon his; and swiftly in fiery fight Closed they, and rained the never-ceasing blows Upon the bucklers which with craft divine Hephaestus' self had fashioned. Once and again Clashed they together, and their cloudy crests Touched, mingling all their tossing storm of hair. And Zeus, for that he loved them both, inspired With prowess each, and mightier than their wont He made them, made them tireless, nothing like To men, but Gods: and gloated o'er the twain The Queen of Strife. In eager fury these Thrust swiftly out the spear, with fell intent To reach the throat 'twixt buckler-rim and helm, Thrust many a time and oft, and now would aim The point beneath the shield, above the greave, Now close beneath the corslet curious-wrought That lapped the stalwart frame: hard, fast they lunged, And on their shoulders clashed the arms divine. Roared to the very heavens the battle-shout Of warring men, of Trojans, Aethiops, And Argives mighty-hearted, while the dust Rolled up from 'neath their feet, tossed to the sky In stress of battle-travail great and strong.
As when a mist enshrouds
In stern rebuke spake Aeacus' aweless son: "Memnon, how wast thou so distraught of wit That thou shouldst face me, and to fight defy Me, who in might, in blood, in stature far Surpass thee? From supremest Zeus I trace My glorious birth; and from the strong Sea-god Nereus, begetter of the Maids of the Sea, The Nereids, honoured of the Olympian Gods. And chiefest of them all is Thetis, wise With wisdom world-renowned; for in her bowers She sheltered Dionysus, chased by might Of murderous Lycurgus from the earth. Yea, and the cunning God-smith welcomed she Within her mansion, when from heaven he fell. Ay, and the Lightning-lord she once released From bonds. The all-seeing Dwellers in the Sky Remember all these things, and reverence My mother Thetis in divine Olympus. Ay, that she is a Goddess shalt thou know When to thine heart the brazen spear shall pierce Sped by my might. Patroclus' death I avenged On Hector, and Antilochus on thee Will I avenge. No weakling's friend thou hast slain! But why like witless children stand we here Babbling our parents' fame and our own deeds? Now is the hour when prowess shall decide."
Then from the sheath he flashed his long keen sword, And Memnon his; and swiftly in fiery fight Closed they, and rained the never-ceasing blows Upon the bucklers which with craft divine Hephaestus' self had fashioned. Once and again Clashed they together, and their cloudy crests Touched, mingling all their tossing storm of hair. And Zeus, for that he loved them both, inspired With prowess each, and mightier than their wont He made them, made them tireless, nothing like To men, but Gods: and gloated o'er the twain The Queen of Strife. In eager fury these Thrust swiftly out the spear, with fell intent To reach the throat 'twixt buckler-rim and helm, Thrust many a time and oft, and now would aim The point beneath the shield, above the greave, Now close beneath the corslet curious-wrought That lapped the stalwart frame: hard, fast they lunged, And on their shoulders clashed the arms divine. Roared to the very heavens the battle-shout Of warring men, of Trojans, Aethiops, And Argives mighty-hearted, while the dust Rolled up from 'neath their feet, tossed to the sky In stress of battle-travail great and strong.
As when a mist enshrouds