Homer

c.800 BC

THE ILIAD

translated by Samuel Butler

BOOK V

Then Pallas Minerva put valour into the heart of Diomed, son of Tydeus, that
he might excel all the other Argives, and cover himself with glory. She made a
stream of fire flare from his shield and helmet like the star that shines most
brilliantly in summer after its bath in the waters of Oceanus–even such a fire
did she kindle upon his head and shoulders as she bade him speed into the thickest
hurly-burly of the fight.

Now there was a certain rich and honourable man among the Trojans, priest of
Vulcan, and his name was Dares. He had two sons, Phegeus and Idaeus, both of them
skilled in all the arts of war. These two came forward from the main body of Trojans,
and set upon Diomed, he being on foot, while they fought from their chariot. When
they were close up to one another, Phegeus took aim first, but his spear went
over Diomed’s left shoulder without hitting him. Diomed then threw, and his spear
sped not in vain, for it hit Phegeus on the breast near the nipple, and he fell
from his chariot. Idaeus did not dare to bestride his brother’s body, but sprang
from the chariot and took to flight, or he would have shared his brother’s fate;
whereon Vulcan saved him by wrapping him in a cloud of darkness, that his old
father might not be utterly overwhelmed with grief; but the son of Tydeus drove
off with the horses, and bade his followers take them to the ships. The Trojans
were scared when they saw the two sons of Dares, one of them in fright and the
other lying dead by his chariot. Minerva, therefore, took Mars by the hand and
said, “Mars, Mars, bane of men, bloodstained stormer of cities, may we not now
leave the Trojans and Achaeans to fight it out, and see to which of the two Jove
will vouchsafe the victory? Let us go away, and thus avoid his anger.”

So saying, she drew Mars out of the battle, and set him down upon the steep
banks of the Scamander. Upon this the Danaans drove the Trojans back, and each
one of their chieftains killed his man. First King Agamemnon flung mighty Odius,
captain of the Halizoni, from his chariot. The spear of Agamemnon caught him on
the broad of his back, just as he was turning in flight; it struck him between
the shoulders and went right through his chest, and his armour rang rattling round
him as he fell heavily to the ground.

Then Idomeneus killed Phaesus, son of Borus the Meonian, who had come from
Varne. Mighty Idomeneus speared him on the right shoulder as he was mounting his
chariot, and the darkness of death enshrouded him as he fell heavily from the
car.

The squires of Idomeneus spoiled him of his armour, while Menelaus, son of
Atreus, killed Scamandrius the son of Strophius, a mighty huntsman and keen lover
of the chase. Diana herself had taught him how to kill every kind of wild creature
that is bred in mountain forests, but neither she nor his famed skill in archery
could now save him, for the spear of Menelaus struck him in the back as he was
flying; it struck him between the shoulders and went right through his chest,
so that he fell headlong and his armour rang rattling round him.

Meriones then killed Phereclus the son of Tecton, who was the son of Hermon,
a man whose hand was skilled in all manner of cunning workmanship, for Pallas
Minerva had dearly loved him. He it was that made the ships for Alexandrus, which
were the beginning of all mischief, and brought evil alike both on the Trojans
and on Alexandrus himself; for he heeded not the decrees of heaven. Meriones overtook
him as he was flying, and struck him on the right buttock. The point of the spear
went through the bone into the bladder, and death came upon him as he cried aloud
and fell forward on his knees.

Meges, moreover, slew Pedaeus, son of Antenor, who, though he was a bastard,
had been brought up by Theano as one of her own children, for the love she bore
her husband. The son of Phyleus got close up to him and drove a spear into the
nape of his neck: it went under his tongue all among his teeth, so he bit the
cold bronze, and fell dead in the dust.

And Eurypylus, son of Euaemon, killed Hypsenor, the son of noble Dolopion,
who had been made priest of the river Scamander, and was honoured among the people
as though he were a god. Eurypylus gave him chase as he was flying before him,
smote him with his sword upon the arm, and lopped his strong hand from off it.
The bloody hand fell to the ground, and the shades of death, with fate that no
man can withstand, came over his eyes.

Thus furiously did the battle rage between them. As for the son of Tydeus,
you could not say whether he was more among the Achaeans or the Trojans. He rushed
across the plain like a winter torrent that has burst its barrier in full flood;
no dykes, no walls of fruitful vineyards can embank it when it is swollen with
rain from heaven, but in a moment it comes tearing onward, and lays many a field
waste that many a strong man’s hand has reclaimed–even so were the dense phalanxes
of the Trojans driven in rout by the son of Tydeus, and many though they were,
they dared not abide his onslaught.

Now when the son of Lycaon saw him scouring the plain and driving the Trojans
pell-mell before him, he aimed an arrow and hit the front part of his cuirass
near the shoulder: the arrow went right through the metal and pierced the flesh,
so that the cuirass was covered with blood. On this the son of Lycaon shouted
in triumph, “Knights Trojans, come on; the bravest of the Achaeans is wounded,
and he will not hold out much longer if King Apollo was indeed with me when I
sped from Lycia hither.”

Thus did he vaunt; but his arrow had not killed Diomed, who withdrew and made
for the chariot and horses of Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus. “Dear son of Capaneus,”
said he, “come down from your chariot, and draw the arrow out of my shoulder.”

Sthenelus sprang from his chariot, and drew the arrow from the wound, whereon
the blood came spouting out through the hole that had been made in his shirt.
Then Diomed prayed, saying, “Hear me, daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable,
if ever you loved my father well and stood by him in the thick of a fight, do
the like now by me; grant me to come within a spear’s throw of that man and kill
him. He has been too quick for me and has wounded me; and now he is boasting that
I shall not see the light of the sun much longer.”

Thus he prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard him; she made his limbs supple and
quickened his hands and his feet. Then she went up close to him and said, “Fear
not, Diomed, to do battle with the Trojans, for I have set in your heart the spirit
of your knightly father Tydeus. Moreover, I have withdrawn the veil from your
eyes, that you know gods and men apart. If, then, any other god comes here and
offers you battle, do not fight him; but should Jove’s daughter Venus come, strike
her with your spear and wound her.”

When she had said this Minerva went away, and the son of Tydeus again took
his place among the foremost fighters, three times more fierce even than he had
been before. He was like a lion that some mountain shepherd has wounded, but not
killed, as he is springing over the wall of a sheep-yard to attack the sheep.
The shepherd has roused the brute to fury but cannot defend his flock, so he takes
shelter under cover of the buildings, while the sheep, panic-stricken on being
deserted, are smothered in heaps one on top of the other, and the angry lion leaps
out over the sheep-yard wall. Even thus did Diomed go furiously about among the
Trojans.

He killed Astynous, and Hypeiron shepherd of his people, the one with a thrust
of his spear, which struck him above the nipple, the other with a sword-cut on
the collar-bone, that severed his shoulder from his neck and back. He let both
of them lie, and went in pursuit of Abas and Polyidus, sons of the old reader
of dreams Eurydamas: they never came back for him to read them any more dreams,
for mighty Diomed made an end of them. He then gave chase to Xanthus and Thoon,
the two sons of Phaenops, both of them very dear to him, for he was now worn out
with age, and begat no more sons to inherit his possessions. But Diomed took both
their lives and left their father sorrowing bitterly, for he nevermore saw them
come home from battle alive, and his kinsmen divided his wealth among themselves.

Then he came upon two sons of Priam, Echemmon and Chromius, as they were both
in one chariot. He sprang upon them as a lion fastens on the neck of some cow
or heifer when the herd is feeding in a coppice. For all their vain struggles
he flung them both from their chariot and stripped the armour from their bodies.
Then he gave their horses to his comrades to take them back to the ships.

When Aeneas saw him thus making havoc among the ranks, he went through the
fight amid the rain of spears to see if he could find Pandarus. When he had found
the brave son of Lycaon he said, “Pandarus, where is now your bow, your winged
arrows, and your renown as an archer, in respect of which no man here can rival
you nor is there any in Lycia that can beat you? Lift then your hands to Jove
and send an arrow at this fellow who is going so masterfully about, and has done
such deadly work among the Trojans. He has killed many a brave man–unless indeed
he is some god who is angry with the Trojans about their sacrifices, and and has
set his hand against them in his displeasure.”

And the son of Lycaon answered, “Aeneas, I take him for none other than the
son of Tydeus. I know him by his shield, the visor of his helmet, and by his horses.
It is possible that he may be a god, but if he is the man I say he is, he is not
making all this havoc without heaven’s help, but has some god by his side who
is shrouded in a cloud of darkness, and who turned my arrow aside when it had
hit him. I have taken aim at him already and hit him on the right shoulder; my
arrow went through the breastpiece of his cuirass; and I made sure I should send
him hurrying to the world below, but it seems that I have not killed him. There
must be a god who is angry with me. Moreover I have neither horse nor chariot.
In my father’s stables there are eleven excellent chariots, fresh from the builder,
quite new, with cloths spread over them; and by each of them there stand a pair
of horses, champing barley and rye; my old father Lycaon urged me again and again
when I was at home and on the point of starting, to take chariots and horses with
me that I might lead the Trojans in battle, but I would not listen to him; it
would have been much better if I had done so, but I was thinking about the horses,
which had been used to eat their fill, and I was afraid that in such a great gathering
of men they might be ill-fed, so I left them at home and came on foot to Ilius
armed only with my bow and arrows. These it seems, are of no use, for I have already
hit two chieftains, the sons of Atreus and of Tydeus, and though I drew blood
surely enough, I have only made them still more furious. I did ill to take my
bow down from its peg on the day I led my band of Trojans to Ilius in Hector’s
service, and if ever I get home again to set eyes on my native place, my wife,
and the greatness of my house, may some one cut my head off then and there if
I do not break the bow and set it on a hot fire–such pranks as it plays me.”

Aeneas answered, “Say no more. Things will not mend till we two go against
this man with chariot and horses and bring him to a trial of arms. Mount my chariot,
and note how cleverly the horses of Tros can speed hither and thither over the
plain in pursuit or flight. If Jove again vouchsafes glory to the son of Tydeus
they will carry us safely back to the city. Take hold, then, of the whip and reins
while I stand upon the car to fight, or else do you wait this man’s onset while
I look after the horses.”

“Aeneas,” replied the son of Lycaon, “take the reins and drive; if we have
to fly before the son of Tydeus the horses will go better for their own driver.
If they miss the sound of your voice when they expect it they may be frightened,
and refuse to take us out of the fight. The son of Tydeus will then kill both
of us and take the horses. Therefore drive them yourself and I will be ready for
him with my spear.”

They then mounted the chariot and drove full-speed towards the son of Tydeus.
Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, saw them coming and said to Diomed, “Diomed, son of
Tydeus, man after my own heart, I see two heroes speeding towards you, both of
them men of might the one a skilful archer, Pandarus son of Lycaon, the other,
Aeneas, whose sire is Anchises, while his mother is Venus. Mount the chariot and
let us retreat. Do not, I pray you, press so furiously forward, or you may get
killed.”

Diomed looked angrily at him and answered: “Talk not of flight, for I shall
not listen to you: I am of a race that knows neither flight nor fear, and my limbs
are as yet unwearied. I am in no mind to mount, but will go against them even
as I am; Pallas Minerva bids me be afraid of no man, and even though one of them
escape, their steeds shall not take both back again. I say further, and lay my
saying to your heart–if Minerva sees fit to vouchsafe me the glory of killing
both, stay your horses here and make the reins fast to the rim of the chariot;
then be sure you spring Aeneas’ horses and drive them from the Trojan to the Achaean
ranks. They are of the stock that great Jove gave to Tros in payment for his son
Ganymede, and are the finest that live and move under the sun. King Anchises stole
the blood by putting his mares to them without Laomedon’s knowledge, and they
bore him six foals. Four are still in his stables, but he gave the other two to
Aeneas. We shall win great glory if we can take them.”

Thus did they converse, but the other two had now driven close up to them,
and the son of Lycaon spoke first. “Great and mighty son,” said he, “of noble
Tydeus, my arrow failed to lay you low, so I will now try with my spear.”

He poised his spear as he spoke and hurled it from him. It struck the shield
of the son of Tydeus; the bronze point pierced it and passed on till it reached
the breastplate. Thereon the son of Lycaon shouted out and said, “You are hit
clean through the belly; you will not stand out for long, and the glory of the
fight is mine.”

But Diomed all undismayed made answer, “You have missed, not hit, and before
you two see the end of this matter one or other of you shall glut tough-shielded
Mars with his blood.”

With this he hurled his spear, and Minerva guided it on to Pandarus’s nose
near the eye. It went crashing in among his white teeth; the bronze point cut
through the root of his tongue, coming out under his chin, and his glistening
armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. The horses started
aside for fear, and he was reft of life and strength.

Aeneas sprang from his chariot armed with shield and spear, fearing lest the
Achaeans should carry off the body. He bestrode it as a lion in the pride of strength,
with shield and spear before him and a cry of battle on his lips resolute to kill
the first that should dare face him. But the son of Tydeus caught up a mighty
stone, so huge and great that as men now are it would take two to lift it; nevertheless
he bore it aloft with ease unaided, and with this he struck Aeneas on the groin
where the hip turns in the joint that is called the “cup-bone.” The stone crushed
this joint, and broke both the sinews, while its jagged edges tore away all the
flesh. The hero fell on his knees, and propped himself with his hand resting on
the ground till the darkness of night fell upon his eyes. And now Aeneas, king
of men, would have perished then and there, had not his mother, Jove’s daughter
Venus, who had conceived him by Anchises when he was herding cattle, been quick
to mark, and thrown her two white arms about the body of her dear son. She protected
him by covering him with a fold of her own fair garment, lest some Danaan should
drive a spear into his breast and kill him.

Thus, then, did she bear her dear son out of the fight. But the son of Capaneus
was not unmindful of the orders that Diomed had given him. He made his own horses
fast, away from the hurly-burly, by binding the reins to the rim of the chariot.
Then he sprang upon Aeneas’s horses and drove them from the Trojan to the Achaean
ranks. When he had so done he gave them over to his chosen comrade Deipylus, whom
he valued above all others as the one who was most like-minded with himself, to
take them on to the ships. He then remounted his own chariot, seized the reins,
and drove with all speed in search of the son of Tydeus.

Now the son of Tydeus was in pursuit of the Cyprian goddess, spear in hand,
for he knew her to be feeble and not one of those goddesses that can lord it among
men in battle like Minerva or Enyo the waster of cities, and when at last after
a long chase he caught her up, he flew at her and thrust his spear into the flesh
of her delicate hand. The point tore through the ambrosial robe which the Graces
had woven for her, and pierced the skin between her wrist and the palm of her
hand, so that the immortal blood, or ichor, that flows in the veins of the blessed
gods, came pouring from the wound; for the gods do not eat bread nor drink wine,
hence they have no blood such as ours, and are immortal. Venus screamed aloud,
and let her son fall, but Phoebus Apollo caught him in his arms, and hid him in
a cloud of darkness, lest some Danaan should drive a spear into his breast and
kill him; and Diomed shouted out as he left her, “Daughter of Jove, leave war
and battle alone, can you not be contented with beguiling silly women? If you
meddle with fighting you will get what will make you shudder at the very name
of war.”

The goddess went dazed and discomfited away, and Iris, fleet as the wind, drew
her from the throng, in pain and with her fair skin all besmirched. She found
fierce Mars waiting on the left of the battle, with his spear and his two fleet
steeds resting on a cloud; whereon she fell on her knees before her brother and
implored him to let her have his horses. “Dear brother,” she cried, “save me,
and give me your horses to take me to Olympus where the gods dwell. I am badly
wounded by a mortal, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight even with father Jove.”

Thus she spoke, and Mars gave her his gold-bedizened steeds. She mounted the
chariot sick and sorry at heart, while Iris sat beside her and took the reins
in her hand. She lashed her horses on and they flew forward nothing loth, till
in a trice they were at high Olympus, where the gods have their dwelling. There
she stayed them, unloosed them from the chariot, and gave them their ambrosial
forage; but Venus flung herself on to the lap of her mother Dione, who threw her
arms about her and caressed her, saying, “Which of the heavenly beings has been
treating you in this way, as though you had been doing something wrong in the
face of day?”

And laughter-loving Venus answered, “Proud Diomed, the son of Tydeus, wounded
me because I was bearing my dear son Aeneas, whom I love best of all mankind,
out of the fight. The war is no longer one between Trojans and Achaeans, for the
Danaans have now taken to fighting with the immortals.”

“Bear it, my child,” replied Dione, “and make the best of it. We dwellers in
Olympus have to put up with much at the hands of men, and we lay much suffering
on one another. Mars had to suffer when Otus and Ephialtes, children of Aloeus,
bound him in cruel bonds, so that he lay thirteen months imprisoned in a vessel
of bronze. Mars would have then perished had not fair Eeriboea, stepmother to
the sons of Aloeus, told Mercury, who stole him away when he was already well-nigh
worn out by the severity of his bondage. Juno, again, suffered when the mighty
son of Amphitryon wounded her on the right breast with a three-barbed arrow, and
nothing could assuage her pain. So, also, did huge Hades, when this same man,
the son of aegis-bearing Jove, hit him with an arrow even at the gates of hell,
and hurt him badly. Thereon Hades went to the house of Jove on great Olympus,
angry and full of pain; and the arrow in his brawny shoulder caused him great
anguish till Paeeon healed him by spreading soothing herbs on the wound, for Hades
was not of mortal mould. Daring, head-strong, evildoer who recked not of his sin
in shooting the gods that dwell in Olympus. And now Minerva has egged this son
of Tydeus on against yourself, fool that he is for not reflecting that no man
who fights with gods will live long or hear his children prattling about his knees
when he returns from battle. Let, then, the son of Tydeus see that he does not
have to fight with one who is stronger than you are. Then shall his brave wife
Aegialeia, daughter of Adrestus, rouse her whole house from sleep, wailing for
the loss of her wedded lord, Diomed the bravest of the Achaeans.”

So saying, she wiped the ichor from the wrist of her daughter with both hands,
whereon the pain left her, and her hand was healed. But Minerva and Juno, who
were looking on, began to taunt Jove with their mocking talk, and Minerva was
first to speak. “Father Jove,” said she, “do not be angry with me, but I think
the Cyprian must have been persuading some one of the Achaean women to go with
the Trojans of whom she is so very fond, and while caressing one or other of them
she must have torn her delicate hand with the gold pin of the woman’s brooch.”

The sire of gods and men smiled, and called golden Venus to his side. “My child,”
said he, “it has not been given you to be a warrior. Attend, henceforth, to your
own delightful matrimonial duties, and leave all this fighting to Mars and to
Minerva.” Thus did they converse. But Diomed sprang upon Aeneas, though he knew
him to be in the very arms of Apollo. Not one whit did he fear the mighty god,
so set was he on killing Aeneas and stripping him of his armour. Thrice did he
spring forward with might and main to slay him, and thrice did Apollo beat back
his gleaming shield. When he was coming on for the fourth time, as though he were
a god, Apollo shouted to him with an awful voice and said, “Take heed, son of
Tydeus, and draw off; think not to match yourself against gods, for men that walk
the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals.”

The son of Tydeus then gave way for a little space, to avoid the anger of the
god, while Apollo took Aeneas out of the crowd and set him in sacred Pergamus,
where his temple stood. There, within the mighty sanctuary, Latona and Diana healed
him and made him glorious to behold, while Apollo of the silver bow fashioned
a wraith in the likeness of Aeneas, and armed as he was. Round this the Trojans
and Achaeans hacked at the bucklers about one another’s breasts, hewing each other’s
round shields and light hide-covered targets. Then Phoebus Apollo said to Mars,
“Mars, Mars, bane of men, blood-stained stormer of cities, can you not go to this
man, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight even with father Jove, and draw him
out of the battle? He first went up to the Cyprian and wounded her in the hand
near her wrist, and afterwards sprang upon me too, as though he were a god.”

He then took his seat on the top of Pergamus, while murderous Mars went about
among the ranks of the Trojans, cheering them on, in the likeness of fleet Acamas
chief of the Thracians. “Sons of Priam,” said he, “how long will you let your
people be thus slaughtered by the Achaeans? Would you wait till they are at the
walls of Troy? Aeneas the son of Anchises has fallen, he whom we held in as high
honour as Hector himself. Help me, then, to rescue our brave comrade from the
stress of the fight.”

With these words he put heart and soul into them all. Then Sarpedon rebuked
Hector very sternly. “Hector,” said he, “where is your prowess now? You used to
say that though you had neither people nor allies you could hold the town alone
with your brothers and brothers-in-law. I see not one of them here; they cower
as hounds before a lion; it is we, your allies, who bear the brunt of the battle.
I have come from afar, even from Lycia and the banks of the river Xanthus, where
I have left my wife, my infant son, and much wealth to tempt whoever is needy;
nevertheless, I head my Lycian soldiers and stand my ground against any who would
fight me though I have nothing here for the Achaeans to plunder, while you look
on, without even bidding your men stand firm in defence of their wives. See that
you fall not into the hands of your foes as men caught in the meshes of a net,
and they sack your fair city forthwith. Keep this before your mind night and day,
and beseech the captains of your allies to hold on without flinching, and thus
put away their reproaches from you.”

So spoke Sarpedon, and Hector smarted under his words. He sprang from his chariot
clad in his suit of armour, and went about among the host brandishing his two
spears, exhorting the men to fight and raising the terrible cry of battle. Then
they rallied and again faced the Achaeans, but the Argives stood compact and firm,
and were not driven back. As the breezes sport with the chaff upon some goodly
threshing-floor, when men are winnowing–while yellow Ceres blows with the wind
to sift the chaff from the grain, and the chaff-heaps grow whiter and whiter–even
so did the Achaeans whiten in the dust which the horses’ hoofs raised to the firmament
of heaven, as their drivers turned them back to battle, and they bore down with
might upon the foe. Fierce Mars, to help the Trojans, covered them in a veil of
darkness, and went about everywhere among them, inasmuch as Phoebus Apollo had
told him that when he saw Pallas, Minerva leave the fray he was to put courage
into the hearts of the Trojans–for it was she who was helping the Danaans. Then
Apollo sent Aeneas forth from his rich sanctuary, and filled his heart with valour,
whereon he took his place among his comrades, who were overjoyed at seeing him
alive, sound, and of a good courage; but they could not ask him how it had all
happened, for they were too busy with the turmoil raised by Mars and by Strife,
who raged insatiably in their midst.

The two Ajaxes, Ulysses and Diomed, cheered the Danaans on, fearless of the
fury and onset of the Trojans. They stood as still as clouds which the son of
Saturn has spread upon the mountain tops when there is no air and fierce Boreas
sleeps with the other boisterous winds whose shrill blasts scatter the clouds
in all directions–even so did the Danaans stand firm and unflinching against
the Trojans. The son of Atreus went about among them and exhorted them. “My friends,”
said he, “quit yourselves like brave men, and shun dishonour in one another’s
eyes amid the stress of battle. They that shun dishonour more often live than
get killed, but they that fly save neither life nor name.”

As he spoke he hurled his spear and hit one of those who were in the front
rank, the comrade of Aeneas, Deicoon son of Pergasus, whom the Trojans held in
no less honour than the sons of Priam, for he was ever quick to place himself
among the foremost. The spear of King Agamemnon struck his shield and went right
through it, for the shield stayed it not. It drove through his belt into the lower
part of his belly, and his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to
the ground.