The Fall of Troy [84]
How war-renowned soe'er, Agenor slew Far from Peneius' river. Crushed by fate, Love's nursing-debt to parents ne'er he paid.
Lamus and stalwart Lyncus Thoas smote, And Meriones slew Lycon; Menelaus Laid low Archelochus. Upon his home Looked down Corycia's ridge, and that great rock Of the wise Fire-god, marvellous in men's eyes; For thereon, nightlong, daylong, unto him Fire blazes, tireless and unquenchable. Laden with fruit around it palm-trees grow, While mid the stones fire plays about their roots. Gods' work is this, a wonder to all time.
By Teucer princely Hippomedon's son was slain, Menoetes: as the archer drew on him, Rushed he to smite him; but already hand And eye, and bow-craft keen were aiming straight On the arching horn the shaft. Swiftly released It leapt on the hapless man, while sang the string. Stricken full front he heaved one choking gasp, Because the fates on the arrow riding flew Right to his heart, the throne of thought and strength For men, whence short the path is unto death.
Far from his brawny hand Euryalus hurled A massy stone, and shook the ranks of Troy. As when in anger against long-screaming cranes A watcher of the field leaps from the ground, In swift hand whirling round his head the sling, And speeds the stone against them, scattering Before its hum their ranks far down the wind Outspread, and they in huddled panic dart With wild cries this way and that, who theretofore Swept on in ordered lines; so shrank the foe To right and left from that dread bolt of doom Hurled of Euryalus. Not in vain it flew Fate-winged; it shattered Meles' helm and head Down to the eyes: so met him ghastly death.
Still man slew man, while earth groaned all around, As when a mighty wind scourges the land, And this way, that way, under its shrieking blasts Through the wide woodland bow from the roots and fall Great trees, while all the earth is thundering round; So fell they in the dust, so clanged their arms, So crashed the earth around. Still hot were they For fell fight, still dealt bane unto their foes.
Nigh to Aeneas then Apollo came, And to Eurymachus, brave Antenor's son; For these against the mighty Achaeans fought Shoulder to shoulder, as two strong oxen, matched In age, yoked to a wain; nor ever ceased From battling. Suddenly spake the God to these In Polymestor's shape, the seer his mother By Xanthus bare to the Far-darter's priest: "Eurymachus, Aeneas, seed of Gods, 'Twere shame if ye should flinch from Argives! Nay, Not Ares' self should joy to encounter you, An ye would face him in the fray; for Fate Hath spun long destiny-threads for thee and thee."
He spake, and vanished, mingling with the winds. But their hearts felt the God's power: suddenly Flooded with boundless courage were their frames, Maddened their spirits: on the foe they leapt Like furious wasps that in a storm of rage Swoop upon bees, beholding them draw nigh In latter-summer to the mellowing grapes, Or from their hives forth-streaming thitherward; So fiercely leapt these sons of Troy to meet War-hardened Greeks. The black Fates joyed to see Their conflict, Ares laughed, Enyo yelled Horribly. Loud their glancing armour clanged: They stabbed, they hewed down hosts of foes untold With irresistible hands. The reeling ranks Fell, as the swath falls in the harvest heat, When the swift-handed reapers, ranged adown The field's long furrows, ply the sickle fast; So fell before their hands ranks numberless: With corpses earth was heaped, with torrent blood Was streaming: Strife incarnate o'er the slain Gloated. They paused not from the awful toil, But aye pressed on, like lions chasing sheep. Then turned the Greeks to craven flight; all feet Unmaimed as yet fled from the murderous war. Aye followed on Anchises' warrior son, Smiting foes' backs with his avenging spear: On pressed Eurymachus, while glowed the heart Of Healer Apollo watching from on high.
As when a man descries a herd of swine Draw nigh his ripening corn, before the sheaves Fall neath the reapers' hands, and harketh on Against them his strong dogs; as
Lamus and stalwart Lyncus Thoas smote, And Meriones slew Lycon; Menelaus Laid low Archelochus. Upon his home Looked down Corycia's ridge, and that great rock Of the wise Fire-god, marvellous in men's eyes; For thereon, nightlong, daylong, unto him Fire blazes, tireless and unquenchable. Laden with fruit around it palm-trees grow, While mid the stones fire plays about their roots. Gods' work is this, a wonder to all time.
By Teucer princely Hippomedon's son was slain, Menoetes: as the archer drew on him, Rushed he to smite him; but already hand And eye, and bow-craft keen were aiming straight On the arching horn the shaft. Swiftly released It leapt on the hapless man, while sang the string. Stricken full front he heaved one choking gasp, Because the fates on the arrow riding flew Right to his heart, the throne of thought and strength For men, whence short the path is unto death.
Far from his brawny hand Euryalus hurled A massy stone, and shook the ranks of Troy. As when in anger against long-screaming cranes A watcher of the field leaps from the ground, In swift hand whirling round his head the sling, And speeds the stone against them, scattering Before its hum their ranks far down the wind Outspread, and they in huddled panic dart With wild cries this way and that, who theretofore Swept on in ordered lines; so shrank the foe To right and left from that dread bolt of doom Hurled of Euryalus. Not in vain it flew Fate-winged; it shattered Meles' helm and head Down to the eyes: so met him ghastly death.
Still man slew man, while earth groaned all around, As when a mighty wind scourges the land, And this way, that way, under its shrieking blasts Through the wide woodland bow from the roots and fall Great trees, while all the earth is thundering round; So fell they in the dust, so clanged their arms, So crashed the earth around. Still hot were they For fell fight, still dealt bane unto their foes.
Nigh to Aeneas then Apollo came, And to Eurymachus, brave Antenor's son; For these against the mighty Achaeans fought Shoulder to shoulder, as two strong oxen, matched In age, yoked to a wain; nor ever ceased From battling. Suddenly spake the God to these In Polymestor's shape, the seer his mother By Xanthus bare to the Far-darter's priest: "Eurymachus, Aeneas, seed of Gods, 'Twere shame if ye should flinch from Argives! Nay, Not Ares' self should joy to encounter you, An ye would face him in the fray; for Fate Hath spun long destiny-threads for thee and thee."
He spake, and vanished, mingling with the winds. But their hearts felt the God's power: suddenly Flooded with boundless courage were their frames, Maddened their spirits: on the foe they leapt Like furious wasps that in a storm of rage Swoop upon bees, beholding them draw nigh In latter-summer to the mellowing grapes, Or from their hives forth-streaming thitherward; So fiercely leapt these sons of Troy to meet War-hardened Greeks. The black Fates joyed to see Their conflict, Ares laughed, Enyo yelled Horribly. Loud their glancing armour clanged: They stabbed, they hewed down hosts of foes untold With irresistible hands. The reeling ranks Fell, as the swath falls in the harvest heat, When the swift-handed reapers, ranged adown The field's long furrows, ply the sickle fast; So fell before their hands ranks numberless: With corpses earth was heaped, with torrent blood Was streaming: Strife incarnate o'er the slain Gloated. They paused not from the awful toil, But aye pressed on, like lions chasing sheep. Then turned the Greeks to craven flight; all feet Unmaimed as yet fled from the murderous war. Aye followed on Anchises' warrior son, Smiting foes' backs with his avenging spear: On pressed Eurymachus, while glowed the heart Of Healer Apollo watching from on high.
As when a man descries a herd of swine Draw nigh his ripening corn, before the sheaves Fall neath the reapers' hands, and harketh on Against them his strong dogs; as