The Fall of Troy [68]
shoulders and her hands Blood-splashed, while fearful sweat streamed from her limbs. Revelling in equal fight, she aided none, Lest Thetis' or the War-god's wrath be stirred.
Then Neoptolemus slew one far-renowned, Perimedes, who had dwelt by Smintheus' grove; Next Cestrus died, Phalerus battle-staunch, Perilaus the strong, Menalcas lord of spears, Whom Iphianassa bare by the haunted foot Of Cilla to the cunning craftsman Medon. In the home-land afar the sire abode, And never kissed his son's returning head: For that fair home and all his cunning works Did far-off kinsmen wrangle o'er his grave. Deiphobus slew Lycon battle-staunch: The lance-head pierced him close above the groin, And round the long spear all his bowels gushed out. Aeneas smote down Dymas, who erewhile In Aulis dwelt, and followed unto Troy Arcesilaus, and saw never more The dear home-land. Euryalus hurled a dart, And through Astraeus' breast the death-winged point Flew, shearing through the breathways of man's life; And all that lay within was drenched with blood. And hard thereby great-souled Agenor slew Hippomenes, hero Teucer's comrade staunch, With one swift thrust 'twixt shoulder and neck: his soul Rushed forth in blood; death's night swept over him. Grief for his comrade slain on Teucer fell; He strained his bow, a swift-winged shaft he sped, But smote him not, for slightly Agenor swerved. Yet nigh him Deiophontes stood; the shaft Into his left eye plunged, passed through the ball, And out through his right ear, because the Fates Whither they willed thrust on the bitter barbs. Even as in agony he leapt full height, Yet once again the archer's arrow hissed: It pierced his throat, through the neck-sinews cleft Unswerving, and his hard doom came on him.
So man to man dealt death; and joyed the Fates And Doom, and fell Strife in her maddened glee Shouted aloud, and Ares terribly Shouted in answer, and with courage thrilled The Trojans, and with panic fear the Greeks, And shook their reeling squadrons. But one man He scared not, even Achilles' son; he abode, And fought undaunted, slaying foes on foes. As when a young lad sweeps his hand around Flies swarming over milk, and nigh the bowl Here, there they lie, struck dead by that light touch, And gleefully the child still plies the work; So stern Achilles' glorious scion joyed Over the slain, and recked not of the God Who spurred the Trojans on: man after man Tasted his vengeance of their charging host. Even as a giant mountain-peak withstands On-rushing hurricane-blasts, so he abode Unquailing. Ares at his eager mood Grew wroth, and would have cast his veil of cloud Away, and met him face to face in fight, But now Athena from Olympus swooped To forest-mantled Ida. Quaked the earth And Xanthus' murmuring streams; so mightily She shook them: terror-stricken were the souls Of all the Nymphs, adread for Priam's town. From her immortal armour flashed around The hovering lightnings; fearful serpents breathed Fire from her shield invincible; the crest Of her great helmet swept the clouds. And now She was at point to close in sudden fight With Ares; but the mighty will of Zeus Daunted them both, from high heaven thundering His terrors. Ares drew back from the war, For manifest to him was Zeus's wrath. To wintry Thrace he passed; his haughty heart Reeked no more of the Trojans. In the plain Of Troy no more stayed Pallas; she was gone To hallowed Athens. But the armies still Strove in the deadly fray; and fainted now The Trojans' prowess; but all battle-fain The Argives pressed on these as they gave ground. As winds chase ships that fly with straining sails On to the outsea -- as on forest-brakes Leapeth the fury of flame -- as swift hounds drive Deer through the mountains, eager for the prey, So did the Argives chase them: Achilles' son Still cheered them on, still slew with that great spear Whomso he overtook. On, on they fled Till into stately-gated Troy they poured.
Then had the Argives a short breathing-space From war, when they had penned the hosts of Troy In Priam's burg, as shepherds pen
Then Neoptolemus slew one far-renowned, Perimedes, who had dwelt by Smintheus' grove; Next Cestrus died, Phalerus battle-staunch, Perilaus the strong, Menalcas lord of spears, Whom Iphianassa bare by the haunted foot Of Cilla to the cunning craftsman Medon. In the home-land afar the sire abode, And never kissed his son's returning head: For that fair home and all his cunning works Did far-off kinsmen wrangle o'er his grave. Deiphobus slew Lycon battle-staunch: The lance-head pierced him close above the groin, And round the long spear all his bowels gushed out. Aeneas smote down Dymas, who erewhile In Aulis dwelt, and followed unto Troy Arcesilaus, and saw never more The dear home-land. Euryalus hurled a dart, And through Astraeus' breast the death-winged point Flew, shearing through the breathways of man's life; And all that lay within was drenched with blood. And hard thereby great-souled Agenor slew Hippomenes, hero Teucer's comrade staunch, With one swift thrust 'twixt shoulder and neck: his soul Rushed forth in blood; death's night swept over him. Grief for his comrade slain on Teucer fell; He strained his bow, a swift-winged shaft he sped, But smote him not, for slightly Agenor swerved. Yet nigh him Deiophontes stood; the shaft Into his left eye plunged, passed through the ball, And out through his right ear, because the Fates Whither they willed thrust on the bitter barbs. Even as in agony he leapt full height, Yet once again the archer's arrow hissed: It pierced his throat, through the neck-sinews cleft Unswerving, and his hard doom came on him.
So man to man dealt death; and joyed the Fates And Doom, and fell Strife in her maddened glee Shouted aloud, and Ares terribly Shouted in answer, and with courage thrilled The Trojans, and with panic fear the Greeks, And shook their reeling squadrons. But one man He scared not, even Achilles' son; he abode, And fought undaunted, slaying foes on foes. As when a young lad sweeps his hand around Flies swarming over milk, and nigh the bowl Here, there they lie, struck dead by that light touch, And gleefully the child still plies the work; So stern Achilles' glorious scion joyed Over the slain, and recked not of the God Who spurred the Trojans on: man after man Tasted his vengeance of their charging host. Even as a giant mountain-peak withstands On-rushing hurricane-blasts, so he abode Unquailing. Ares at his eager mood Grew wroth, and would have cast his veil of cloud Away, and met him face to face in fight, But now Athena from Olympus swooped To forest-mantled Ida. Quaked the earth And Xanthus' murmuring streams; so mightily She shook them: terror-stricken were the souls Of all the Nymphs, adread for Priam's town. From her immortal armour flashed around The hovering lightnings; fearful serpents breathed Fire from her shield invincible; the crest Of her great helmet swept the clouds. And now She was at point to close in sudden fight With Ares; but the mighty will of Zeus Daunted them both, from high heaven thundering His terrors. Ares drew back from the war, For manifest to him was Zeus's wrath. To wintry Thrace he passed; his haughty heart Reeked no more of the Trojans. In the plain Of Troy no more stayed Pallas; she was gone To hallowed Athens. But the armies still Strove in the deadly fray; and fainted now The Trojans' prowess; but all battle-fain The Argives pressed on these as they gave ground. As winds chase ships that fly with straining sails On to the outsea -- as on forest-brakes Leapeth the fury of flame -- as swift hounds drive Deer through the mountains, eager for the prey, So did the Argives chase them: Achilles' son Still cheered them on, still slew with that great spear Whomso he overtook. On, on they fled Till into stately-gated Troy they poured.
Then had the Argives a short breathing-space From war, when they had penned the hosts of Troy In Priam's burg, as shepherds pen