Public Domain Poetry And Stories - The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book V. by William Cowper
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The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book V.

    By William Cowper



    Argument Of The Fifth Book.


    Diomede is extraordinarily distinguished. He kills Pandarus, who had violated the truce, and wounds first Venus and then Mars.



    Then Athenæan Pallas on the son
    Of Tydeus,[1] Diomede, new force conferr'd
    And daring courage, that the Argives all
    He might surpass, and deathless fame achieve.
    Fires on his helmet and his shield around
    She kindled, bright and steady as the star
    Autumnal,[2] which in Ocean newly bathed
    Assumes fresh beauty; with such glorious beams
    His head encircling and his shoulders broad,
    She urged him forth into the thickest fight.
    There lived a man in Troy, Dares his name,
    The priest of Vulcan; rich he was and good,
    The father of two sons, Idæus this,
    That, Phegeus call'd; accomplish'd warriors both.
    These, issuing from their phalanx, push'd direct
    Their steeds at Diomede, who fought on foot.
    When now small interval was left between,
    First Phegeus his long-shadow'd spear dismiss'd;
    But over Diomede's left shoulder pass'd
    The point, innocuous. Then his splendid lance
    Tydides hurl'd; nor ineffectual flew
    The weapon from his hand, but Phegeus pierced
    His paps between, and forced him to the ground.
    At once, his sumptuous chariot left, down leap'd
    Idæsus, wanting courage to defend
    His brother slain; nor had he scaped himself
    His louring fate, but Vulcan, to preserve
    His ancient priest from unmixt sorrow, snatch'd
    The fugitive in darkness wrapt, away.
    Then brave Tydides, driving off the steeds,
    Consign'd them to his fellow-warriors' care,
    That they might lead them down into the fleet.
    The valiant Trojans, when they saw the sons
    Of Dares, one beside his chariot slain,
    And one by flight preserved, through all their host
    Felt consternation. Then Minerva seized
    The hand of fiery Mars, and thus she spake.
    Gore-tainted homicide, town-battering Mars!
    Leave we the Trojans and the Greeks to wage
    Fierce fight alone, Jove prospering whom he will,
    So shall we not provoke our father's ire.
    She said, and from the fight conducted forth
    The impetuous Deity, whom on the side
    She seated of Scamander deep-embank'd.[3]
    And now the host of Troy to flight inclined
    Before the Grecians, and the Chiefs of Greece
    Each slew a warrior. Agamemnon first
    Gigantic Odius from his chariot hurl'd.
    Chief of the Halizonians. He to flight
    Turn'd foremost, when the monarch in his spine
    Between the shoulder-bones his spear infixt,
    And urged it through his breast. Sounding he fell,
    And loud his batter'd armor rang around.
    By brave Idomeneus a Lydian died,
    Phæstus, from fruitful Tarne sent to Troy,
    Son of Mæonian Borus; him his steeds
    Mounting, Idomeneus the spear-renown'd
    Through his right shoulder pierced; unwelcome night
    Involved him; from his chariot down he fell,[4]
    And the attendant Cretans stripp'd his arms.
    But Menelaus, son of Atreus slew
    With his bright spear Scamandrius, Stropius' son,
    A skilful hunter; for Diana him,
    Herself, the slaughter of all savage kinds
    Had taught, on mountain or in forest bred.
    But she, shaft-aiming Goddess, in that hour
    Avail'd him not, nor his own matchless skill;
    For Menelaus, Atreus son spear-famed,
    Him flying wounded in the spine between
    His shoulders, and the spear urged through his breast.
    Prone on his loud-resounding arms he fell.
    Next, by Meriones, Phereclus died,
    Son of Harmonides. All arts that ask
    A well-instructed hand his sire had learn'd,
    For Pallas dearly loved him. He the fleet,
    Prime source of harm to Troy and to himself,
    For Paris built, unskill'd to spell aright
    The oracles predictive of the wo.
    Phereclus fled; Meriones his flight
    Outstripping, deep in his posterior flesh
    A spear infix'd; sliding beneath the bone
    It grazed his bladder as it pass'd, and stood
    Protruded far before. Low on his knees
    Phereclus sank, and with a shriek expired.
    Pedæus, whom, although his spurious son,
    Antenor's wife, to gratify her lord,
    Had cherish'd as her own--him Meges slew.
    Warlike Phylides[5] following close his flight,
    His keen lance drove into his poll, cut sheer
    His tongue within, and through his mouth enforced
    The glittering point. He, prostrate in the dust,
    The cold steel press'd between his teeth and died.
    Eurypylus, Evemon's son, the brave
    Hypsenor slew; Dolopion was his sire,
    Priest of Scamander, reverenced as a God.
    In vain before Eurypylus he fled;
    He, running, with his falchion lopp'd his arm
    Fast by the shoulder; on the field his hand
    Fell blood-distained, and destiny severe
    With shades of death for ever veil'd his eyes.
    Thus strenuous they the toilsome battle waged.
    But where Tydides fought, whether in aid
    Of Ilium's host, or on the part of Greece,
    Might none discern. For as a winter-flood
    Impetuous, mounds and bridges sweeps away;[6]
    The buttress'd bridge checks not its sudden force,
    The firm inclosure of vine-planted fields
    Luxuriant, falls before it; finish'd works
    Of youthful hinds, once pleasant to the eye,
    Now levell'd, after ceaseless rain from Jove;
    So drove Tydides into sudden flight
    The Trojans; phalanx after phalanx fled
    Before the terror of his single arm.
    When him Lycaon's son illustrious saw
    Scouring the field, and from before his face
    The ranks dispersing wide, at once he bent
    Against Tydides his elastic bow.
    The arrow met him in his swift career
    Sure-aim'd; it struck direct the hollow mail
    Of his right shoulder, with resistless force
    Transfix'd it, and his hauberk stain'd with blood.
    Loud shouted then Lycaon's son renown'd.
    Rush on, ye Trojans, spur your coursers hard.
    Our fiercest foe is wounded, and I deem
    His death not distant far, if me the King[7]
    Jove's son, indeed, from Lycia sent to Troy.
    So boasted Pandarus. Yet him the dart
    Quell'd not. Retreating, at his coursers' heads
    He stood, and to the son of Capaneus
    His charioteer and faithful friend he said.
    Arise, sweet son of Capaneus, dismount,
    And from my shoulder draw this bitter shaft.
    He spake; at once the son of Capaneus
    Descending, by its barb the bitter shaft
    Drew forth; blood spouted through his twisted mail
    Incontinent, and thus the Hero pray'd.
    Unconquer'd daughter of Jove Ægis-arm'd!
    If ever me, propitious, or my sire
    Thou hast in furious fight help'd heretofore,
    Now aid me also. Bring within the reach
    Of my swift spear, Oh grant me to strike through
    The warrior who hath check'd my course, and boasts
    The sun's bright beams for ever quench'd to me![8]
    He prayed, and Pallas heard; she braced his limbs,
    She wing'd him with alacrity divine,
    And, standing at his side, him thus bespake.
    Now Diomede, be bold! Fight now with Troy.
    To thee, thy father's spirit I impart
    Fearless; shield-shaking Tydeus felt the same.
    I also from thine eye the darkness purge
    Which dimm'd thy sight[9] before, that thou may'st know
    Both Gods and men; should, therefore, other God
    Approach to try thee, fight not with the powers
    Immortal; but if foam-born Venus come,
    Her spare not. Wound her with thy glittering spear.
    So spake the blue-eyed Deity, and went,
    Then with the champions in the van again
    Tydides mingled; hot before, he fights
    With threefold fury now, nor less enraged
    Than some gaunt lion whom o'erleaping light
    The fold, a shepherd hath but gall'd, not kill'd,
    Him irritating more; thenceforth the swain
    Lurks unresisting; flies the abandon'd flock;
    Heaps slain on heaps he leaves, and with a bound
    Surmounting all impediment, escapes;
    Such seem'd the valiant Diomede incensed
    To fury, mingling with the host of Troy.
    Astynoüs and Hypenor first he slew;
    One with his brazen lance above the pap
    He pierced, and one with his huge falchion smote
    Fast by the key-bone,[10] from the neck and spine
    His parted shoulder driving at a blow.
    Them leaving, Polyides next he sought
    And Abas, sons of a dream-dealing seer,
    Eurydamas; their hoary father's dreams
    Or not interpreted, or kept concealed,
    Them saved not, for by Diomede they died.
    Xanthus and Thöon he encounter'd next,
    Both sons of Phænops, sons of his old age,
    Who other heir had none of all his wealth,
    Nor hoped another, worn with many years.
    Tydides slew them both; nor aught remain'd
    To the old man but sorrow for his sons
    For ever lost, and strangers were his heirs.
    Two sons of Priam in one chariot borne
    Echemon next, and Chromius felt his hand
    Resistless. As a lion on the herd
    Leaping, while they the shrubs and bushes browse,
    Breaks short the neck of heifer or of steer,
    So them, though clinging fast and loth to fall,
    Tydides hurl'd together to the ground,
    Then stripp'd their splendid armor, and the steeds
    Consigned and chariot to his soldiers' care.
    Æneas him discern'd scattering the ranks,
    And through the battle and the clash of spears
    Went seeking godlike Pandarus; ere long
    Finding Lycaon's martial son renown'd,
    He stood before him, and him thus address'd.
    Thy bow, thy feather'd shafts, and glorious name
    Where are they, Pandarus? whom none of Troy
    Could equal, whom of Lycia, none excel.
    Come. Lift thine hands to Jove, and at yon Chief
    Dispatch an arrow, who afflicts the host
    Of Ilium thus, conquering where'er he flies,
    And who hath slaughter'd numerous brave in arms,
    But him some Deity I rather deem
    Avenging on us his neglected rites,
    And who can stand before an angry God?
    Him answer'd then Lycaon's son renown'd.
    Brave leader of the Trojans brazen-mail'd,
    Æneas! By his buckler which I know,
    And by his helmet's height, considering, too
    His steeds, I deem him Diomede the bold;
    Yet such pronounce him not, who seems a God.
    But if bold Diomede indeed he be
    Of whom I speak, not without aid from heaven
    His fury thus prevails, but at his side
    Some God, in clouds enveloped, turns away
    From him the arrow to a devious course.
    Already, at his shoulder's hollow mail
    My shaft hath pierced him through, and him I deem'd
    Dismiss'd full sure to Pluto ere his time
    But he survives; whom therefore I at last
    Perforce conclude some angry Deity.
    Steeds have I none or chariot to ascend,
    Who have eleven chariots in the stands
    Left of Lycaon, with fair hangings all
    O'ermantled, strong, new finish'd, with their steeds
    In pairs beside them, eating winnow'd grain.
    Me much Lycaon my old valiant sire
    At my departure from his palace gates
    Persuaded, that my chariot and my steeds
    Ascending, I should so conduct my bands
    To battle; counsel wise, and ill-refused!
    But anxious, lest (the host in Troy so long
    Immew'd) my steeds, fed plenteously at home,
    Should here want food, I left them, and on foot
    To Ilium came, confiding in my bow
    Ordain'd at last to yield me little good.
    Twice have I shot, and twice I struck the mark,
    First Menelaus, and Tydides next;
    From each I drew the blood, true, genuine blood,
    Yet have but more incensed them. In an hour
    Unfortunate, I therefore took my bow
    Down from the wall that day, when for the sake
    Of noble Hector, to these pleasant plains
    I came, a leader on the part of Troy.
    But should I once return, and with these eyes
    Again behold my native land, my sire,
    My wife, my stately mansion, may the hand,
    That moment, of some adversary there
    Shorten me by the head, if I not snap
    This bow with which I charged myself in vain,
    And burn the unprofitable tool to dust.
    To whom Æneas, Trojan Chief, replied.
    Nay, speak not so. For ere that hour arrive
    We will, with chariot and with horse, in arms
    Encounter him, and put his strength to proof.
    Delay not, mount my chariot. Thou shalt see
    With what rapidity the steeds of Troy
    Pursuing or retreating, scour the field.
    If after all, Jove purpose still to exalt
    The son of Tydeus, these shall bear us safe
    Back to the city. Come then. Let us on.
    The lash take thou, and the resplendent reins,
    While I alight for battle, or thyself
    Receive them, and the steeds shall be my care.
    Him answer'd then Lycaon's son renown'd.
    Æneas! manage thou the reins, and guide
    Thy proper steeds. If fly at last we must
    The son of Tydeus, they will readier draw
    Directed by their wonted charioteer.
    Else, terrified, and missing thy control,
    They may refuse to bear us from the fight,
    And Tydeus' son assailing us, with ease
    Shall slay us both, and drive thy steeds away.
    Rule therefore thou the chariot, and myself
    With my sharp spear will his assault receive.
    So saying, they mounted both, and furious drove
    Against Tydides. Them the noble son
    Of Capaneus observed, and turning quick
    His speech to Diomede, him thus address'd.
    Tydides, Diomede, my heart's delight!
    Two warriors of immeasurable force
    In battle, ardent to contend with thee,
    Come rattling on. Lycaon's offspring one,
    Bow-practised Pandarus; with whom appears
    Æneas; he who calls the mighty Chief
    Anchises father, and whom Venus bore.
    Mount--drive we swift away--lest borne so far
    Beyond the foremost battle, thou be slain.
    To whom, dark-frowning, Diomede replied
    Speak not of flight to me, who am disposed
    To no such course. I am ashamed to fly
    Or tremble, and my strength is still entire;
    I cannot mount. No. Rather thus, on foot,
    I will advance against them. Fear and dread
    Are not for me; Pallas forbids the thought.
    One falls, be sure; swift as they are, the steeds
    That whirl them on, shall never rescue both.
    But hear my bidding, and hold fast the word.
    Should all-wise Pallas grant me my desire
    To slay them both, drive not my coursers hence,
    But hook the reins, and seizing quick the pair
    That draw Æneas, urge them from the powers
    Of Troy away into the host of Greece.
    For they are sprung from those which Jove to Tros
    In compensation gave for Ganymede;
    The Sun himself sees not their like below.
    Anchises, King of men, clandestine them
    Obtain'd, his mares submitting to the steeds
    Of King Laomedon. Six brought him foals;
    Four to himself reserving, in his stalls
    He fed them sleek, and two he gave his son:
    These, might we win them, were a noble prize.
    Thus mutual they conferr'd; those Chiefs, the while,
    With swiftest pace approach'd, and first his speech
    To Diomede Lycaon's son address'd.
    Heroic offspring of a noble sire,
    Brave son of Tydeus! false to my intent
    My shaft hath harm'd thee little. I will now
    Make trial with my spear, if that may speed.
    He said, and shaking his long-shadow'd spear,
    Dismiss'd it. Forceful on the shield it struck
    Of Diomede, transpierced it, and approach'd
    With threatening point the hauberk on his breast.
    Loud shouted Pandarus--Ah nobly thrown!
    Home to thy bowels. Die, for die thou must,
    And all the glory of thy death is mine.
    Then answer thus brave Diomede return'd
    Undaunted. I am whole. Thy cast was short.
    But ye desist not, as I plain perceive,
    Till one at least extended on the plain
    Shall sate the God of battles with his blood.
    He said and threw. Pallas the spear herself
    Directed; at his eye fast by the nose
    Deep-entering, through his ivory teeth it pass'd,
    At its extremity divided sheer
    His tongue, and started through his chin below.
    He headlong fell, and with his dazzling arms
    Smote full the plain. Back flew the fiery steeds
    With swift recoil, and where he fell he died.
    Then sprang Æneas forth with spear and shield,
    That none might drag the body;[11] lion-like
    He stalk'd around it, oval shield and spear
    Advancing firm, and with incessant cries
    Terrific, death denouncing on his foes.
    But Diomede with hollow grasp a stone
    Enormous seized, a weight to overtask
    Two strongest men of such as now are strong,
    Yet he, alone, wielded the rock with ease.
    Full on the hip he smote him, where the thigh
    Rolls in its cavity, the socket named.
    He crushed the socket, lacerated wide
    Both tendons, and with that rough-angled mass
    Flay'd all his flesh, The Hero on his knees
    Sank, on his ample palm his weight upbore
    Laboring, and darkness overspread his eyes.
    There had Æneas perish'd, King of men,
    Had not Jove's daughter Venus quick perceived
    His peril imminent, whom she had borne
    Herself to Anchises pasturing his herds.
    Her snowy arras her darling son around
    She threw maternal, and behind a fold
    Of her bright mantle screening close his breast
    From mortal harm by some brave Grecian's spear,
    Stole him with eager swiftness from the fight.
    Nor then forgat brave Sthenelus his charge
    Received from Diomede, but his own steeds
    Detaining distant from the boisterous war,
    Stretch'd tight the reins, and hook'd them fast behind.
    The coursers of Æneas next he seized
    Ardent, and them into the host of Greece
    Driving remote, consign'd them to his care,
    Whom far above all others his compeers
    He loved, Deipylus, his bosom friend
    Congenial. Him he charged to drive them thence
    Into the fleet, then, mounting swift his own,
    Lash'd after Diomede; he, fierce in arms,
    Pursued the Cyprian Goddess, conscious whom,
    Not Pallas, not Enyo, waster dread
    Of cities close-beleaguer'd, none of all
    Who o'er the battle's bloody course preside,
    But one of softer kind and prone to fear.
    When, therefore, her at length, after long chase
    Through all the warring multitude he reach'd,
    With his protruded spear her gentle hand
    He wounded, piercing through her thin attire
    Ambrosial, by themselves the graces wrought,
    Her inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm.
    Blood follow'd, but immortal; ichor pure,
    Such as the blest inhabitants of heaven
    May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not
    Man's food, nor slake as he with sable wine
    Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt.
    She, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son,
    And Phoebus, in impenetrable clouds
    Him hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek
    Should pierce his bosom, caught him swift away.
    Then shouted brave Tydides after her--
    Depart, Jove's daughter! fly the bloody field.
    Is't not enough that thou beguilest the hearts
    Of feeble women? If thou dare intrude
    Again into the war, war's very name
    Shall make thee shudder, wheresoever heard.
    He said, and Venus with excess of pain
    Bewilder'd went; but Iris tempest-wing'd
    Forth led her through the multitude, oppress'd
    With anguish, her white wrist to livid changed.
    They came where Mars far on the left retired
    Of battle sat, his horses and his spear
    In darkness veil'd. Before her brother's knees
    She fell, and with entreaties urgent sought
    The succor of his coursers golden-rein'd.
    Save me, my brother! Pity me! Thy steeds
    Give me, that they may bear me to the heights
    Olympian, seat of the immortal Gods!
    Oh! I am wounded deep; a mortal man
    Hath done it, Diomede; nor would he fear
    This day in fight the Sire himself of all.
    Then Mars his coursers gold-caparison'd
    Resign'd to Venus; she, with countenance sad,
    The chariot climb'd, and Iris at her side
    The bright reins seizing lash'd the ready steeds.
    Soon as the Olympian heights, seat of the Gods,
    They reach'd, wing-footed Iris loosing quick
    The coursers, gave them large whereon to browse
    Ambrosial food; but Venus on the knees
    Sank of Dione, who with folded arms
    Maternal, to her bosom straining close
    Her daughter, stroked her cheek, and thus inquired.
    My darling child! who? which of all the Gods
    Hath rashly done such violence to thee
    As if convicted of some open wrong?
    Her then the Goddess of love-kindling smiles
    Venus thus answer'd; Diomede the proud,
    Audacious Diomede; he gave the wound,
    For that I stole Æneas from the fight
    My son of all mankind my most beloved;
    Nor is it now the war of Greece with Troy,
    But of the Grecians with the Gods themselves.
    Then thus Dione, Goddess all divine.
    My child! how hard soe'er thy sufferings seem
    Endure them patiently. Full many a wrong
    From human hands profane the Gods endure,
    And many a painful stroke, mankind from ours.
    Mars once endured much wrong, when on a time
    Him Otus bound and Ephialtes fast,
    Sons of Alöeus, and full thirteen moons
    In brazen thraldom held him. There, at length,
    The fierce blood-nourished Mars had pined away,
    But that Eëriboea, loveliest nymph,
    His step-mother, in happy hour disclosed
    To Mercury the story of his wrongs;
    He stole the prisoner forth, but with his woes
    Already worn, languid and fetter-gall'd.
    Nor Juno less endured, when erst the bold
    Son of Amphytrion with tridental shaft
    Her bosom pierced; she then the misery felt
    Of irremediable pain severe.
    Nor suffer'd Pluto less, of all the Gods
    Gigantic most, by the same son of Jove
    Alcides, at the portals of the dead
    Transfix'd and fill'd with anguish; he the house
    Of Jove and the Olympian summit sought
    Dejected, torture-stung, for sore the shaft
    Oppress'd him, into his huge shoulder driven.
    But Pæon[12] him not liable to death
    With unction smooth of salutiferous balms
    Heal'd soon. Presumptuous, sacrilegious man!
    Careless what dire enormities he wrought,
    Who bent his bow against the powers of heaven!
    But blue-eyed Pallas instigated him
    By whom thou bleed'st. Infatuate! he forgets
    That whoso turns against the Gods his arm
    Lives never long; he never, safe escaped
    From furious fight, the lisp'd caresses hears
    Of his own infants prattling at his knees.
    Let therefore Diomede beware, lest strong
    And valiant as he is, he chance to meet
    Some mightier foe than thou, and lest his wife,
    Daughter of King Adrastus, the discrete
    Ægialea, from portentous dreams
    Upstarting, call her family to wail
    Her first-espoused, Achaia's proudest boast,
    Diomede, whom she must behold no more.
    She said, and from her wrist with both hands wiped
    The trickling ichor; the effectual touch
    Divine chased all her pains, and she was heal'd.
    Them Juno mark'd and Pallas, and with speech
    Sarcastic pointed at Saturnian Jove
    To vex him, blue-eyed Pallas thus began.
    Eternal father! may I speak my thought,
    And not incense thee, Jove? I can but judge
    That Venus, while she coax'd some Grecian fair
    To accompany the Trojans whom she loves
    With such extravagance, hath heedless stroked
    Her golden clasps, and scratch'd her lily hand.
    So she; then smiled the sire of Gods and men,
    And calling golden Venus, her bespake.
    War and the tented field, my beauteous child,
    Are not for thee. Thou rather shouldst be found
    In scenes of matrimonial bliss. The toils
    Of war to Pallas and to Mars belong.
    Thus they in heaven. But Diomede the while
    Sprang on Æneas, conscious of the God
    Whose hand o'ershadow'd him, yet even him
    Regarding lightly; for he burn'd to slay
    Æneas, and to seize his glorious arms.
    Thrice then he sprang impetuous to the deed,
    And thrice Apollo with his radiant shield
    Repulsed him. But when ardent as a God
    The fourth time he advanced, with thundering-voice
    Him thus the Archer of the skies rebuked.
    Think, and retire, Tydides! nor affect
    Equality with Gods; for not the same
    Our nature is and theirs who tread the ground.
    He spake, and Diomede a step retired,
    Not more; the anger of the Archer-God
    Declining slow, and with a sullen awe.
    Then Phoebus, far from all the warrior throng
    To his own shrine the sacred dome beneath
    Of Pergamus, Æneas bore; there him
    Latona and shaft-arm'd Diana heal'd
    And glorified within their spacious fane.
    Meantime the Archer of the silver bow
    A visionary form prepared; it seem'd
    Himself Æneas, and was arm'd as he.
    At once, in contest for that airy form,
    Grecians and Trojans on each other's breasts
    The bull-hide buckler batter'd and light targe.
    Then thus Apollo to the warrior God.
    Gore-tainted homicide, town-batterer Mars!
    Wilt thou not meet and from the fight withdraw
    This man Tydides, now so fiery grown
    That he would even cope with Jove himself?
    First Venus' hand he wounded, and assail'd
    Impetuous as a God, next, even me.
    He ceased, and on the topmost turret sat
    Of Pergamus. Then all-destroyer Mars
    Ranging the Trojan host, rank after rank
    Exhorted loud, and in the form assumed
    Of Acamas the Thracian leader bold,
    The godlike sons of Priam thus harangued.
    Ye sons of Priam, monarch Jove-beloved!
    How long permit ye your Achaian foes
    To slay the people?--till the battle rage
    (Push'd home to Ilium) at her solid gates?
    Behold--a Chief disabled lies, than whom
    We reverence not even Hector more,
    Æneas; fly, save from the roaring storm
    The noble Anchisiades your friend.
    He said; then every heart for battle glow'd;
    And thus Sarpedon with rebuke severe
    Upbraiding generous Hector, stern began.
    Where is thy courage, Hector? for thou once
    Hadst courage. Is it fled? In other days
    Thy boast hath been that without native troops
    Or foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself
    Alone, were guard sufficient for the town.
    But none of all thy kindred now appears;
    I can discover none; they stand aloof
    Quaking, as dogs that hear the lion's roar.
    We bear the stress, who are but Troy's allies;
    Myself am such, and from afar I came;
    For Lycia lies far distant on the banks
    Of the deep-eddied Xanthus. There a wife
    I left and infant son, both dear to me,
    With plenteous wealth, the wish of all who want.
    Yet urge I still my Lycians, and am prompt
    Myself to fight, although possessing here
    Nought that the Greeks can carry or drive hence.
    But there stand'st thou, neither employed thyself,
    Nor moving others to an active part
    For all their dearest pledges. Oh beware!
    Lest, as with meshes of an ample net,
    At one huge draught the Grecians sweep you all,
    And desolate at once your populous Troy!
    By day, by night, thoughts such as these should still
    Thy conduct influence, and from Chief to Chief
    Of the allies should send thee, praying each
    To make firm stand, all bickerings put away.
    So spake Sarpedon, and his reprimand
    Stung Hector; instant to the ground he leap'd
    All arm'd, and shaking his bright spears his host
    Ranged in all quarters animating loud
    His legions, and rekindling horrid war.
    Then, rolling back, the powers of Troy opposed
    Once more the Grecians, whom the Grecians dense
    Expected, unretreating, void of fear.
    As flies the chaff wide scatter'd by the wind
    O'er all the consecrated floor, what time
    Ripe Ceres[13] with brisk airs her golden grain
    Ventilates, whitening with its husk the ground;
    So grew the Achaians white, a dusty cloud
    Descending on their arms, which steeds with steeds
    Again to battle mingling, with their hoofs
    Up-stamp'd into the brazen vault of heaven;
    For now the charioteers turn'd all to fight.
    Host toward host with full collected force
    They moved direct. Then Mars through all the field
    Took wide his range, and overhung the war
    With night, in aid of Troy, at the command
    Of Phoebus of the golden sword; for he
    Perceiving Pallas from the field withdrawn,
    Patroness of the Greeks, had Mars enjoin'd
    To rouse the spirit of the Trojan host.
    Meantime Apollo from his unctuous shrine
    Sent forth restored and with new force inspired
    Æneas. He amidst his warriors stood,
    Who him with joy beheld still living, heal'd,
    And all his strength possessing unimpair'd.
    Yet no man ask'd him aught. No leisure now
    For question was; far other thoughts had they;
    Such toils the archer of the silver bow,
    Wide-slaughtering Mars, and Discord as at first
    Raging implacable, for them prepared.
    Ulysses, either Ajax, Diomede--
    These roused the Greeks to battle, who themselves
    The force fear'd nothing, or the shouts of Troy,
    But steadfast stood, like clouds by Jove amass'd
    On lofty mountains, while the fury sleeps
    Of Boreas, and of all the stormy winds
    Shrill-voiced, that chase the vapors when they blow,
    So stood the Greeks, expecting firm the approach
    Of Ilium's powers, and neither fled nor fear'd.
    Then Agamemnon the embattled host
    On all sides ranging, cheer'd them. Now, he cried,
    Be steadfast, fellow warriors, now be men!
    Hold fast a sense of honor. More escape
    Of men who fear disgrace, than fall in fight,
    While dastards forfeit life and glory both.
    He said, and hurl'd his spear. He pierced a friend
    Of brave Æneas, warring in the van,
    Deicöon son of Pergasus, in Troy
    Not less esteem'd than Priam's sons themselves,
    Such was his fame in foremost fight acquired.
    Him Agamemnon on his buckler smote,
    Nor stayed the weapon there, but through his belt
    His bowels enter'd, and with hideous clang
    And outcry[14] of his batter'd arms he fell.
    Æneas next two mightiest warriors slew,
    Sons of Diocles, of a wealthy sire,
    Whose house magnificent in Phæræ stood,
    Orsilochus and Crethon. Their descent
    From broad-stream'd Alpheus, Pylian flood, they drew.
    Alpheus begat Orsilochus, a prince
    Of numerous powers. Orsilochus begat
    Warlike Diodes. From Diodes sprang
    Twins, Crethon and Orsilochus, alike
    Valiant, and skilful in all forms of war.
    Their boyish prime scarce past, they, with the Greeks
    Embarking, in their sable ships had sail'd
    To steed-fam'd Ilium; just revenge they sought
    For Atreus' sons, but perished first themselves.
    As two young lions, in the deep recess
    Of some dark forest on the mountain's brow
    Late nourished by their dam, forth-issuing, seize
    The fatted flocks and kine, both folds and stalls
    Wasting rapacious, till, at length, themselves
    Deep-wounded perish by the hand of man,
    So they, both vanquish'd by Æneas, fell,
    And like two lofty pines uprooted, lay.
    Them fallen in battle Menelaus saw
    With pity moved; radiant in arms he shook
    His brazen spear, and strode into the van.
    Mars urged him furious on, conceiving hope
    Of his death also by Æneas' hand.
    But him the son of generous Nestor mark'd
    Antilochus, and to the foremost fight
    Flew also, fearing lest some dire mischance
    The Prince befalling, at one fatal stroke
    Should frustrate all the labors of the Greeks.
    They, hand to hand, and spear to spear opposed,
    Stood threatening dreadful onset, when beside
    The Spartan chief Antilochus appear'd.
    Æneas, at the sight of two combined,
    Stood not, although intrepid. They the dead
    Thence drawing far into the Grecian host
    To their associates gave the hapless pair,
    Then, both returning, fought in front again.
    Next, fierce as Mars, Pylæmenes they slew,
    Prince of the shielded band magnanimous
    Of Paphlagonia. Him Atrides kill'd
    Spear-practised Menelaus, with a lance
    His throat transpiercing while erect he rode.
    Then, while his charioteer, Mydon the brave,
    Son of Atymnias, turn'd his steeds to flight,
    Full on his elbow-point Antilochus,
    The son of Nestor, dash'd him with a stone.
    The slack reins, white as ivory,[15] forsook
    His torpid hand and trail'd the dust. At once
    Forth sprang Antilochus, and with his sword
    Hew'd deep his temples. On his head he pitch'd
    Panting, and on his shoulders in the sand
    (For in deep sand he fell) stood long erect,
    Till his own coursers spread him in the dust;
    The son of Nestor seized, and with his scourge
    Drove them afar into the host of Greece.
    Them Hector through the ranks espying, flew
    With clamor loud to meet them; after whom
    Advanced in phalanx firm the powers of Troy,
    Mars led them, with Enyo terror-clad;
    She by the maddening tumult of the fight
    Attended, he, with his enormous spear
    in both hands brandish'd, stalking now in front
    Of Hector, and now following his steps.
    Him Diomede the bold discerning, felt
    Himself no small dismay; and as a man
    Wandering he knows not whither, far from home,
    If chance a rapid torrent to the sea
    Borne headlong thwart his course, the foaming flood
    Obstreperous views awhile, then quick retires,
    So he, and his attendants thus bespake.
    How oft, my countrymen! have we admired
    The noble Hector, skillful at the spear
    And unappall'd in fight? but still hath he
    Some God his guard, and even now I view
    In human form Mars moving at his side.
    Ye, then, with faces to the Trojans turn'd,
    Ceaseless retire, and war not with the Gods.
    He ended; and the Trojans now approach'd.
    Then two bold warriors in one chariot borne,
    By valiant Hector died, Menesthes one,
    And one, Anchialus. Them fallen in fight
    Ajax the vast, touch'd with compassion saw;
    Within small space he stood, his glittering spear
    Dismiss'd, and pierced Amphius. Son was he
    Of Selagus, and Pæsus was his home,
    Where opulent he dwelt, but by his fate
    Was led to fight for Priam and his sons.
    Him Telamonian Ajax through his belt
    Wounded, and in his nether bowels deep
    Fix'd his long-shadow'd spear. Sounding he fell.
    Illustrious Ajax running to the slain
    Prepared to strip his arms, but him a shower
    Of glittering-weapons keen from Trojan hands
    Assail'd, and numerous his broad shield received.
    He, on the body planting firm his heel,
    Forth drew the polish'd spear, but his bright arms
    Took not, by darts thick-flying sore annoy'd,
    Nor fear'd he little lest his haughty foes,
    Spear-arm'd and bold, should compass him around;
    Him, therefore, valiant though he were and huge,
    They push'd before them. Staggering he retired.
    Thus toil'd both hosts in that laborious field.
    And now his ruthless destiny impell'd
    Tlepolemus, Alcides' son, a Chief
    Dauntless and huge, against a godlike foe
    Sarpedon. They approaching face to face
    Stood, son and grandson of high-thundering Jove,
    And, haughty, thus Tlepolemus began.
    Sarpedon, leader of the Lycian host,
    Thou trembler! thee what cause could hither urge
    A man unskill'd in arms? They falsely speak
    Who call thee son of Ægis-bearing Jove,
    So far below their might thou fall'st who sprang
    From Jove in days of old. What says report
    Of Hercules (for him I boast my sire)
    All-daring hero with a lion's heart?
    With six ships only, and with followers few,
    He for the horses of Laomedon
    Lay'd Troy in dust, and widow'd all her streets.
    But thou art base, and thy diminish'd powers
    Perish around thee; think not that thou earnest
    For Ilium's good, but rather, whatsoe'er
    Thy force in fight, to find, subdued by me,
    A sure dismission to the gates of hell.
    To whom the leader of the Lycian band.
    Tlepolemus! he ransack'd sacred Troy,
    As thou hast said, but for her monarch's fault
    Laomedon, who him with language harsh
    Requited ill for benefits received,
    Nor would the steeds surrender, seeking which
    He voyaged from afar. But thou shalt take
    Thy bloody doom from this victorious arm,
    And, vanquish'd by my spear, shalt yield thy fame
    To me, thy soul to Pluto steed-renown'd.
    So spake Sarpedon, and his ashen beam
    Tlepolemus upraised. Both hurl'd at once
    Their quivering spears. Sarpedon's through the neck
    Pass'd of Tlepolemus, and show'd beyond
    Its ruthless point; thick darkness veil'd his eyes.
    Tlepolemus with his long lance the thigh
    Pierced of Sarpedon; sheer into his bone
    He pierced him, but Sarpedon's father, Jove,
    Him rescued even on the verge of fate.
    His noble friends conducted from the field
    The godlike Lycian, trailing as he went
    The pendent spear, none thinking to extract
    For his relief the weapon from his thigh,
    Through eagerness of haste to bear him thence.
    On the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail'd
    Bore off Tlepolemus. Ulysses fill'd
    With earnest thoughts tumultuous them observed,
    Danger-defying Chief! Doubtful he stood
    Or to pursue at once the Thunderer's son
    Sarpedon, or to take more Lycian lives.
    But not for brave Ulysses had his fate
    That praise reserved, that he should slay the son
    Renown'd of Jove; therefore his wavering mind
    Minerva bent against the Lycian band.
    Then Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius fell,
    Alcander, Halius, Prytanis, and brave
    Noëmon; nor had these sufficed the Chief
    Of Ithaca, but Lycians more had fallen,
    Had not crest-tossing Hector huge perceived
    The havoc; radiant to the van he flew,
    Filling with dread the Grecians; his approach
    Sarpedon, son of Jove, joyful beheld,
    And piteous thus address'd him as he came.
    Ah, leave not me, Priamides! a prey
    To Grecian hands, but in your city, at least,
    Grant me to die: since hither, doom'd, I came
    Never to gratify with my return
    To Lycia, my loved spouse, or infant child.
    He spake; but Hector unreplying pass'd
    Impetuous, ardent to repulse the Greeks
    That moment, and to drench his sword in blood.
    Then, under shelter of a spreading beech
    Sacred to Jove, his noble followers placed
    The godlike Chief Sarpedon, where his friend
    Illustrious Pelagon, the ashen spear
    Extracted. Sightless, of all thought bereft,
    He sank, but soon revived, by breathing airs
    Refresh'd, that fann'd him gently from the North.
    Meantime the Argives, although press'd alike
    By Mars himself and Hector brazen-arm'd,
    Neither to flight inclined, nor yet advanced
    To battle, but inform'd that Mars the fight
    Waged on the side of Ilium, slow retired.[16]
    Whom first, whom last slew then the mighty son
    Of Priam, Hector, and the brazen Mars!
    First godlike Teuthras, an equestrian Chief,
    Orestes, Trechus of Ætolian race,
    OEnomaüs, Helenus from OEnops' sprung,
    And brisk[17] in fight Oresbius; rich was he,
    And covetous of more; in Hyla dwelt
    Fast by the lake Cephissus, where abode
    Boeotian Princes numerous, rich themselves
    And rulers of a people wealth-renown'd.
    But Juno, such dread slaughter of the Greeks
    Noting, thus, ardent, to Minerva spake.
    Daughter of Jove invincible! Our word
    That Troy shall perish, hath been given in vain
    To Menelaus, if we suffer Mars
    To ravage longer uncontrol'd. The time
    Urges, and need appears that we ourselves
    Now call to mind the fury of our might.
    She spake; nor blue-eyed Pallas not complied.
    Then Juno, Goddess dread, from Saturn sprung,
    Her coursers gold-caparison'd prepared
    Impatient. Hebe to the chariot roll'd
    The brazen wheels,[18] and joined them to the smooth
    Steel axle; twice four spokes divided each
    Shot from the centre to the verge. The verge
    Was gold by fellies of eternal brass
    Guarded, a dazzling show! The shining naves
    Were silver; silver cords and cords of gold
    The seat upbore; two crescents[19] blazed in front.
    The pole was argent all, to which she bound
    The golden yoke, and in their place disposed
    The breast-bands incorruptible of gold;
    But Juno to the yoke, herself, the steeds
    Led forth, on fire to reach the dreadful field.
    Meantime, Minerva, progeny of Jove,
    On the adamantine floor of his abode
    Let fall profuse her variegated robe,
    Labor of her own hands. She first put on
    The corselet of the cloud-assembler God,
    Then arm'd her for the field of wo complete.
    She charged her shoulder with the dreadful shield
    The shaggy Ægis,[20] border'd thick around
    With terror; there was Discord, Prowess there,
    There hot Pursuit, and there the feature grim
    Of Gorgon, dire Deformity, a sign
    Oft borne portentous on the arm of Jove.
    Her golden helm, whose concave had sufficed
    The legions of an hundred cities, rough
    With warlike ornament superb, she fix'd
    On her immortal head. Thus arm'd, she rose
    Into the flaming chariot, and her spear
    Seized ponderous, huge, with which the Goddess sprung
    From an Almighty father, levels ranks
    Of heroes, against whom her anger burns.
    Juno with lifted lash urged quick the steeds;
    At her approach, spontaneous roar'd the wide-
    Unfolding gates of heaven;[21] the heavenly gates
    Kept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge
    Of the Olympian summit appertains,
    And of the boundless ether, back to roll,
    And to replace the cloudy barrier dense.
    Spurr'd through the portal flew the rapid steeds;
    Apart from all, and seated on the point
    Superior of the cloven mount, they found
    The Thunderer. Juno the white-arm'd her steeds
    There stay'd, and thus the Goddess, ere she pass'd,
    Question'd the son of Saturn, Jove supreme.
    Jove, Father, seest thou, and art not incensed,
    These ravages of Mars? Oh what a field,
    Drench'd with what Grecian blood! All rashly spilt,
    And in despite of me. Venus, the while,
    Sits, and the Archer of the silver bow
    Delighted, and have urged, themselves, to this
    The frantic Mars within no bounds confined
    Of law or order. But, eternal sire!
    Shall I offend thee chasing far away
    Mars deeply smitten from the field of war?
    To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.
    Go! but exhort thou rather to the task
    Spoil-huntress Athenæan Pallas, him
    Accustom'd to chastise with pain severe.
    He spake, nor white-arm'd Juno not obey'd.
    She lash'd her steeds; they readily their flight
    Began, the earth and starry vault between.
    Far as from his high tower the watchman kens
    O'er gloomy ocean, so far at one bound
    Advance the shrill-voiced coursers of the Gods.
    But when at Troy and at the confluent streams
    Of Simoïs and Scamander they arrived,
    There Juno, white-arm'd Goddess, from the yoke
    Her steeds releasing, them in gather'd shades
    Conceal'd opaque, while Simoïs caused to spring
    Ambrosia from his bank, whereon they browsed.
    Swift as her pinions waft the dove away
    They sought the Grecians, ardent to begin:
    Arriving where the mightiest and the most
    Compass'd equestrian Diomede around,
    In aspect lion-like, or like wild boars
    Of matchless force, there white-arm'd Juno stood,
    And in the form of Stentor for his voice
    Of brass renown'd, audible as the roar
    Of fifty throats, the Grecians thus harangued.
    Oh shame, shame, shame! Argives in form alone,
    Beautiful but dishonorable race!
    While yet divine Achilles ranged the field,
    No Trojan stepp'd from yon Dardanian gates
    Abroad; all trembled at his stormy spear;
    But now they venture forth, now at your ships
    Defy you, from their city far remote.
    She ceased, and all caught courage from the sound.
    But Athenæan Pallas eager sought
    The son of Tydeus; at his chariot side
    She found the Chief cooling his fiery wound
    Received from Pandarus; for him the sweat
    Beneath the broad band of his oval shield
    Exhausted, and his arm fail'd him fatigued;
    He therefore raised the band and wiped the blood
    Coagulate; when o'er his chariot yoke
    Her arm the Goddess threw, and thus began.
    Tydeus, in truth, begat a son himself
    Not much resembling. Tydeus was of size
    Diminutive, but had a warrior's heart.
    When him I once commanded to abstain
    From furious fight (what time he enter'd Thebes
    Ambassador, and the Cadmeans found
    Feasting, himself the sole Achaian there)
    And bade him quietly partake the feast.
    He, fired with wonted ardor, challenged forth
    To proof of manhood the Cadmean youth,
    Whom easily, through my effectual aid,
    In contests of each kind he overcame.
    But thou, whom I encircle with my power,
    Guard vigilant, and even bid thee forth
    To combat with the Trojans, thou, thy limbs
    Feel'st wearied with the toils of war, or worse,
    Indulgest womanish and heartless fear.
    Henceforth thou art not worthy to be deem'd
    Son of Oenides, Tydeus famed in arms.
    To whom thus valiant Diomede replied.
    I know thee well, oh Goddess sprung from Jove!
    And therefore willing shall, and plain, reply.
    Me neither weariness nor heartless fear
    Restrains, but thine injunctions which impress
    My memory, still, that I should fear to oppose
    The blessed Gods in fight, Venus except,
    Whom in the battle found thou badest me pierce
    With unrelenting spear; therefore myself
    Retiring hither, I have hither call'd
    The other Argives also, for I know
    That Mars, himself in arms, controls the war.
    Him answer'd then the Goddess azure-eyed.
    Tydides! Diomede, my heart's delight!
    Fear not this Mars,[22] nor fear thou other power
    Immortal, but be confident in me.
    Arise. Drive forth. Seek Mars; him only seek;
    Him hand to hand engage; this fiery Mars
    Respect not aught, base implement of wrong
    And mischief, shifting still from side to side.
    He promised Juno lately and myself
    That he would fight for Greece, yet now forgets
    His promise, and gives all his aid to Troy.
    So saying, she backward by his hand withdrew
    The son of Capaneus, who to the ground
    Leap'd instant; she, impatient to his place
    Ascending, sat beside brave Diomede.
    Loud groan'd the beechen axle, under weight
    Unwonted, for it bore into the fight
    An awful Goddess, and the chief of men.
    Quick-seizing lash and reins Minerva drove
    Direct at Mars. That moment he had slain
    Periphas, bravest of Ætolia's sons,
    And huge of bulk; Ochesius was his sire.
    Him Mars the slaughterer had of life bereft
    Newly, and Pallas to elude his sight
    The helmet fixed of Ades on her head.[23]
    Soon as gore-tainted Mars the approach perceived
    Of Diomede, he left the giant length
    Of Periphas extended where he died,
    And flew to cope with Tydeus' valiant son.
    Full nigh they came, when Mars on fire to slay
    The hero, foremost with his brazen lance
    Assail'd him, hurling o'er his horses' heads.
    But Athenæan Pallas in her hand
    The flying weapon caught and turn'd it wide,
    Baffling his aim. Then Diomede on him
    Rush'd furious in his turn, and Pallas plunged
    The bright spear deep into his cinctured waist
    Dire was the wound, and plucking back the spear
    She tore him. Bellow'd brazen-throated Mars
    Loud as nine thousand warriors, or as ten
    Join'd in close combat. Grecians, Trojans shook
    Appall'd alike at the tremendous voice
    Of Mars insatiable with deeds of blood.
    Such as the dimness is when summer winds
    Breathe hot, and sultry mist obscures the sky,
    Such brazen Mars to Diomede appear'd
    By clouds accompanied in his ascent
    Into the boundless ether. Reaching soon
    The Olympian heights, seat of the Gods, he sat
    Beside Saturnian Jove; wo fill'd his heart;
    He show'd fast-streaming from the wound his blood
    Immortal, and impatient thus complain'd.
    Jove, Father! Seest thou these outrageous acts
    Unmoved with anger? Such are day by day
    The dreadful mischiefs by the Gods contrived
    Against each other, for the sake of man.
    Thou art thyself the cause. Thou hast produced
    A foolish daughter petulant, addict
    To evil only and injurious deeds;
    There is not in Olympus, save herself,
    Who feels not thy control; but she her will
    Gratifies ever, and reproof from thee
    Finds none, because, pernicious as she is,
    She is thy daughter. She hath now the mind
    Of haughty Diomede with madness fill'd
    Against the immortal Gods; first Venus bled;
    Her hand he pierced impetuous, then assail'd,
    As if himself immortal, even me,
    But me my feet stole thence, or overwhelm'd
    Beneath yon heaps of carcases impure,
    What had I not sustain'd? And if at last
    I lived, had halted crippled by the sword.
    To whom with dark displeasure Jove replied.
    Base and side-shifting traitor! vex not me
    Here sitting querulous; of all who dwell
    On the Olympian heights, thee most I hate
    Contentious, whose delight is war alone.
    Thou hast thy mother's moods, the very spleen
    Of Juno, uncontrolable as she.
    Whom even I, reprove her as I may,
    Scarce rule by mere commands; I therefore judge
    Thy sufferings a contrivance all her own.
    But soft. Thou art my son whom I begat.
    And Juno bare thee. I can not endure
    That thou shouldst suffer long. Hadst thou been born
    Of other parents thus detestable,
    What Deity soe'er had brought thee forth,
    Thou shouldst have found long since a humbler sphere.
    He ceased, and to the care his son consign'd
    Of Pæon; he with drugs of lenient powers,
    Soon heal'd whom immortality secured
    From dissolution. As the juice from figs
    Express'd what fluid was in milk before
    Coagulates, stirr'd rapidly around,
    So soon was Mars by Pæon skill restored.
    Him Hebe bathed, and with divine attire
    Graceful adorn'd; when at the side of Jove
    Again his glorious seat sublime he took.
    Meantime to the abode of Jove supreme
    Ascended Juno throughout Argos known
    And mighty Pallas; Mars the plague of man,
    By their successful force from slaughter driven.



Extra Info:
1. In each battle there is one prominent person who may be called the hero of the day. This arrangement preserves unity, and helps to fix the attention of the reader. The gods sometimes favor one hero, and sometimes another. In this book we have the exploits of Diomede. Assisted by Minerva, he is eminent both for prudence and valor.

2. Sirius. This comparison, among many others, shows how constantly the poet's attention was directed to the phenomena of nature.--FELTON.

3. {Êioenti}.

4. The chariots were probably very low. We frequently find in the Iliad that a person standing in a chariot is killed (and sometimes by a stroke on the head) by a foot soldier with a sword. This may farther appear from the ease with which they mount or alight, to facilitate which, the chariots were made open behind. That the wheels were small, may be supposed from their custom of taking them off and putting them on. Hebe puts on the wheels of Juno's chariot, when he called for it in battle. It may be in allusion to the same custom, that it is said in Ex., ch. xiv.: "The Lord took off their chariot wheels, so that they drove them heavily." That it was very small and light, is evident from a passage in the tenth Il., where Diomede debates whether he shall draw the chariot of Rhesus out of the way, or carry it on his shoulders to a place of safety.

5. [Meges, son of Phyleus.]

6. This whole passage is considered by critics as very beautiful. It describes the hero carried by an enthusiastic valor into the midst of his enemies, and mingling in the ranks indiscriminately. The simile thoroughly illustrates this fury, proceeding as it did from an extraordinary infusion of courage from Heaven.

7. [Apollo.]

8. The deities are often invoked because of the agency ascribed to them and not from any particular religious usage. And just as often the heroes are protected by the gods who are worshipped by their own tribes and families--MULLER.

9. This fiction of Homer, says Dacier, is founded upon an important truth of religion, not unknown to the Pagans: viz. that God only can open the eyes of men, and enable them to see what they cannot otherwise discover. The Old Testament furnishes examples. God opens the eyes of Hagar, that she may see the fountain. "The Lord opened the eyes of Baalam, and he saw the angel," etc. This power of sight was given to Diomede only for the present occasion. In the 6th Book, on meeting Glaucus, he is ignorant whether he is a god, a hero, or a man.

10. [Or collar-bone.]

11. The belief of those times, in regard to the peace and happiness of the soul after death, made the protection of the body a matter of great importance. For a full account of these rites, see the articles Charon and Pluto, Gr. & Rom. Mythology.

12. The physician of the gods. Homer says nothing of his origin. He seems to be considered as distinct from Apollo, though perhaps originally identical with him.

13. From the fact that so few mystical myths are introduced in the Iliad, Müller infers that the mystical element of religion could not have predominated among the Grecian people for whom Homer sang. Otherwise, his poems in which that element is but little regarded, would not have afforded universal pleasure and satisfaction. He therefore takes but a passing notice of Demeter. Müller also remarks, that in this we cannot but admire the artistic skill of Homer, and the feeling for what is right and fitting that was innate with the Greeks.

14. [Vide Samson to Harapha in the Agonistes. There the word is used in the same sense.--TR.]

15. [This is a construction of {leuk elephanti} given by some of the best commentators, and that seems the most probable.--TR.]

16. This slow and orderly retreat of the Greeks, with their front constantly turned to the enemy, is a fine encomium on their courage and discipline. This manner of retreating was customary among the Lacedæmonians, as were many other martial customs described by Homer. The practice arose from the apprehension of being killed by a wound in the back, which was not only punished with infamy, but a person bearing the mark was denied the rites of burial.

17. [This, according to Porphyrius as quoted by Clarke, is the true meaning of {aiolomitrês}.--TR.]

18. The chariots of the gods were formed of various metals, and drawn through the air, or upon the surface of the sea, by horses of celestial breed. These chariots were used by the deities only on occasion of a long journey, or when they wished to appear with state and magnificence. Ordinarily they were transported from place to place by the aid of their golden sandals, with the exception of the "silver-footed Thetis," to whom they seem to have been superfluous. When at home, the gods were barefoot, according to the custom of the age, as we see from various representations of antique art.

19. [These which I have called crescents, were a kind of hook of a semicircular form, to which the reins were occasionally fastened.--TR.]

20. The Greeks borrowed the vest and shield of Minerva from the Lybians, only with this difference: the Lybian shield was fringed with thongs of leather, and the Grecian with serpents.--HERODOTUS.

21. This expression (the gates of Heaven) is in the eastern manner, and common in the Scriptures.

22. [{Area tonde}.]

23. Every thing that enters the dark empire of Hades disappears, and is seen no more; hence the figurative expression, to put on Pluto's helmet; that is to become invisible.



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