The Fall of Troy [23]
troops of heroes slain of him. Down from Olympus with a lion-leap He came: his quiver on his shoulders lay, And shafts that deal the wounds incurable. Facing Achilles stood he; round him clashed Quiver and arrows; blazed with quenchless flame His eyes, and shook the earth beneath his feet. Then with a terrible shout the great God cried, So to turn back from war Achilles awed By the voice divine, and save from death the Trojans: "Back from the Trojans, Peleus' son! Beseems not That longer thou deal death unto thy foes, Lest an Olympian God abase thy pride."
But nothing quailed the hero at the voice Immortal, for that round him even now Hovered the unrelenting Fates. He recked Naught of the God, and shouted his defiance. "Phoebus, why dost thou in mine own despite Stir me to fight with Gods, and wouldst protect The arrogant Trojans? Heretofore hast thou By thy beguiling turned me from the fray, When from destruction thou at the first didst save Hector, whereat the Trojans all through Troy Exulted. Nay, thou get thee back: return Unto the mansion of the Blessed, lest I smite thee -- ay, immortal though thou be!"
Then on the God he turned his back, and sped After the Trojans fleeing cityward, And harried still their flight; but wroth at heart Thus Phoebus spake to his indignant soul: "Out on this man! he is sense-bereft! But now Not Zeus himself nor any other Power Shall save this madman who defies the Gods!"
From mortal sight he vanished into cloud, And cloaked with mist a baleful shaft he shot Which leapt to Achilles' ankle: sudden pangs With mortal sickness made his whole heart faint. He reeled, and like a tower he fell, that falls Smit by a whirlwind when an earthquake cleaves A chasm for rushing blasts from underground; So fell the goodly form of Aeacus' son. He glared, a murderous glance, to right, to left, [Upon the Trojans, and a terrible threat] Shouted, a threat that could not be fulfilled: "Who shot at me a stealthy-smiting shaft? Let him but dare to meet me face to face! So shall his blood and all his bowels gush out About my spear, and he be hellward sped! I know that none can meet me man to man And quell in fight -- of earth-born heroes none, Though such an one should bear within his breast A heart unquailing, and have thews of brass. But dastards still in stealthy ambush lurk For lives of heroes. Let him face me then! -- Ay! though he be a God whose anger burns Against the Danaans! Yea, mine heart forebodes That this my smiter was Apollo, cloaked In deadly darkness. So in days gone by My mother told me how that by his shafts I was to die before the Scaean Gates A piteous death. Her words were not vain words."
Then with unflinching hands from out the wound Incurable he drew the deadly shaft In agonized pain. Forth gushed the blood; his heart Waxed faint beneath the shadow of coming doom. Then in indignant wrath he hurled from him The arrow: a sudden gust of wind swept by, And caught it up, and, even as he trod Zeus' threshold, to Apollo gave it back; For it beseemed not that a shaft divine, Sped forth by an Immortal, should be lost. He unto high Olympus swiftly came, To the great gathering of immortal Gods, Where all assembled watched the war of men, These longing for the Trojans' triumph, those For Danaan victory; so with diverse wills Watched they the strife, the slayers and the slain.
Him did the Bride of Zeus behold, and straight Upbraided with exceeding bitter words: "What deed of outrage, Phoebus, hast thou done This day, forgetful of that day whereon To godlike Peleus' spousals gathered all The Immortals? Yea, amidst the feasters thou Sangest how Thetis silver-footed left The sea's abysses to be Peleus' bride; And as thou harpedst all earth's children came To hearken, beasts and birds, high craggy hills, Rivers, and all deep-shadowed forests came. All this hast thou forgotten, and hast wrought A ruthless deed, hast slain a godlike man, Albeit thou with other Gods didst pour The nectar, praying that he might be the son By Thetis given to Peleus. But that prayer Hast thou forgotten,
But nothing quailed the hero at the voice Immortal, for that round him even now Hovered the unrelenting Fates. He recked Naught of the God, and shouted his defiance. "Phoebus, why dost thou in mine own despite Stir me to fight with Gods, and wouldst protect The arrogant Trojans? Heretofore hast thou By thy beguiling turned me from the fray, When from destruction thou at the first didst save Hector, whereat the Trojans all through Troy Exulted. Nay, thou get thee back: return Unto the mansion of the Blessed, lest I smite thee -- ay, immortal though thou be!"
Then on the God he turned his back, and sped After the Trojans fleeing cityward, And harried still their flight; but wroth at heart Thus Phoebus spake to his indignant soul: "Out on this man! he is sense-bereft! But now Not Zeus himself nor any other Power Shall save this madman who defies the Gods!"
From mortal sight he vanished into cloud, And cloaked with mist a baleful shaft he shot Which leapt to Achilles' ankle: sudden pangs With mortal sickness made his whole heart faint. He reeled, and like a tower he fell, that falls Smit by a whirlwind when an earthquake cleaves A chasm for rushing blasts from underground; So fell the goodly form of Aeacus' son. He glared, a murderous glance, to right, to left, [Upon the Trojans, and a terrible threat] Shouted, a threat that could not be fulfilled: "Who shot at me a stealthy-smiting shaft? Let him but dare to meet me face to face! So shall his blood and all his bowels gush out About my spear, and he be hellward sped! I know that none can meet me man to man And quell in fight -- of earth-born heroes none, Though such an one should bear within his breast A heart unquailing, and have thews of brass. But dastards still in stealthy ambush lurk For lives of heroes. Let him face me then! -- Ay! though he be a God whose anger burns Against the Danaans! Yea, mine heart forebodes That this my smiter was Apollo, cloaked In deadly darkness. So in days gone by My mother told me how that by his shafts I was to die before the Scaean Gates A piteous death. Her words were not vain words."
Then with unflinching hands from out the wound Incurable he drew the deadly shaft In agonized pain. Forth gushed the blood; his heart Waxed faint beneath the shadow of coming doom. Then in indignant wrath he hurled from him The arrow: a sudden gust of wind swept by, And caught it up, and, even as he trod Zeus' threshold, to Apollo gave it back; For it beseemed not that a shaft divine, Sped forth by an Immortal, should be lost. He unto high Olympus swiftly came, To the great gathering of immortal Gods, Where all assembled watched the war of men, These longing for the Trojans' triumph, those For Danaan victory; so with diverse wills Watched they the strife, the slayers and the slain.
Him did the Bride of Zeus behold, and straight Upbraided with exceeding bitter words: "What deed of outrage, Phoebus, hast thou done This day, forgetful of that day whereon To godlike Peleus' spousals gathered all The Immortals? Yea, amidst the feasters thou Sangest how Thetis silver-footed left The sea's abysses to be Peleus' bride; And as thou harpedst all earth's children came To hearken, beasts and birds, high craggy hills, Rivers, and all deep-shadowed forests came. All this hast thou forgotten, and hast wrought A ruthless deed, hast slain a godlike man, Albeit thou with other Gods didst pour The nectar, praying that he might be the son By Thetis given to Peleus. But that prayer Hast thou forgotten,