Homer

c.800 BC

THE ILIAD

translated by Samuel Butler

BOOK XII

SO THE son of Menoetius was attending to the hurt of
Eurypylus within the tent, but the Argives and Trojans still fought desperately,
nor were the trench and the high wall above it, to keep the Trojans in check
longer. They had built it to protect their ships, and had dug the trench all
round it that it might safeguard both the ships and the rich spoils which they
had taken, but they had not offered hecatombs to the gods. It had been built
without the consent of the immortals, and therefore it did not last. So long as
Hector lived and Achilles nursed his anger, and so long as the city of Priam
remained untaken, the great wall of the Achaeans stood firm; but when the
bravest of the Trojans were no more, and many also of the Argives, though some
were yet left alive–when, moreover, the city was sacked in the tenth year, and
the Argives had gone back with their ships to their own country–then Neptune
and Apollo took counsel to destroy the wall, and they turned on to it the
streams of all the rivers from Mount Ida into the sea, Rhesus, Heptaporus,
Caresus, Rhodius, Grenicus, Aesopus, and goodly Scamander, with Simois, where
many a shield and helm had fallen, and many a hero of the race of demigods had
bitten the dust. Phoebus Apollo turned the mouths of all these rivers together
and made them flow for nine days against the wall, while Jove rained the whole
time that he might wash it sooner into the sea. Neptune himself, trident in
hand, surveyed the work and threw into the sea all the foundations of beams and
stones which the Achaeans had laid with so much toil; he made all level by the
mighty stream of the Hellespont, and then when he had swept the wall away he
spread a great beach of sand over the place where it had been. This done he
turned the rivers back into their old courses.

This was what Neptune and Apollo were to do in after time;
but as yet battle and turmoil were still raging round the wall till its timbers
rang under the blows that rained upon them. The Argives, cowed by the scourge of
Jove, were hemmed in at their ships in fear of Hector the mighty minister of
Rout, who as heretofore fought with the force and fury of a whirlwind. As a lion
or wild boar turns fiercely on the dogs and men that attack him, while these
form solid wall and shower their javelins as they face him–his courage is all
undaunted, but his high spirit will be the death of him; many a time does he
charge at his pursuers to scatter them, and they fall back as often as he does
so–even so did Hector go about among the host exhorting his men, and cheering
them on to cross the trench.

But the horses dared not do so, and stood neighing upon its
brink, for the width frightened them. They could neither jump it nor cross it,
for it had overhanging banks all round upon either side, above which there were
the sharp stakes that the sons of the Achaeans had planted so close and strong
as a defence against all who would assail it; a horse, therefore, could not get
into it and draw his chariot after him, but those who were on foot kept trying
their very utmost. Then Polydamas went up to Hector and said, “Hector, and you
other captains of the Trojans and allies, it is madness for us to try and drive
our horses across the trench; it will be very hard to cross, for it is full of
sharp stakes, and beyond these there is the wall. Our horses therefore cannot
get down into it, and would be of no use if they did; moreover it is a narrow
place and we should come to harm. If, indeed, great Jove is minded to help the
Trojans, and in his anger will utterly destroy the Achaeans, I would myself
gladly see them perish now and here far from Argos; but if they should rally and
we are driven back from the ships pell-mell into the trench there will be not so
much as a man get back to the city to tell the tale. Now, therefore, let us all
do as I say; let our squires hold our horses by the trench, but let us follow
Hector in a body on foot, clad in full armour, and if the day of their doom is
at hand the Achaeans will not be able to withstand us.”

Thus spoke Polydamas and his saying pleased Hector, who
sprang in full armour to the ground, and all the other Trojans, when they saw
him do so, also left their chariots. Each man then gave his horses over to his
charioteer in charge to hold them ready for him at the trench. Then they formed
themselves into companies, made themselves ready, and in five bodies followed
their leaders. Those that went with Hector and Polydamas were the bravest and
most in number, and the most determined to break through the wall and fight at
the ships. Cebriones was also joined with them as third in command, for Hector
had left his chariot in charge of a less valiant soldier. The next company was
led by Paris, Alcathous, and Agenor; the third by Helenus and Deiphobus, two
sons of Priam, and with them was the hero Asius–Asius, the son of Hyrtacus,
whose great black horses of the breed that comes from the river Selleis had
brought him from Arisbe. Aeneas, the valiant son of Anchises, led the fourth; he
and the two sons of Antenor, Archelochus and Acamas, men well versed in all the
arts of war. Sarpedon was captain over the allies, and took with him Glaucus and
Asteropaeus whom he deemed most valiant after himself–for he was far the best
man of them all. These helped to array one another in their ox-hide shields, and
then charged straight at the Danaans, for they felt sure that they would not
hold out longer and that they should themselves now fall upon the ships.

The rest of the Trojans and their allies now followed the
counsel of Polydamas but Asius, son of Hyrtacus, would not leave his horses and
his esquire behind him; in his foolhardiness he took them on with him towards
the ships, nor did he fail to come by his end in consequence. Nevermore was he
to return to wind-beaten Ilius, exulting in his chariot and his horses; ere he
could do so, death of ill-omened name had overshadowed him and he had fallen by
the spear of Idomeneus the noble son of Deucalion. He had driven towards the
left wing of the ships, by which way the Achaeans used to return with their
chariots and horses from the plain. Hither he drove and found the gates with
their doors opened wide, and the great bar down–for the gatemen kept them open
so as to let those of their comrades enter who might be flying towards the
ships. Hither of set purpose did he direct his horses, and his men followed him
with a loud cry, for they felt sure that the Achaeans would not hold out longer,
and that they should now fall upon the ships. Little did they know that at the
gates they should find two of the bravest chieftains, proud sons of the fighting
Lapithae–the one, Polypoetes, mighty son of Pirithous, and the other Leonteus,
peer of murderous Mars. These stood before the gates like two high oak trees
upon the mountains, that tower from their wide-spreading roots, and year after
year battle with wind and rain–even so did these two men await the onset of
great Asius confidently and without flinching. The Trojans led by him and by
Iamenus, Orestes, Adamas the son of Asius, Thoon and Oenomaus, raised a loud cry
of battle and made straight for the wall, holding their shields of dry ox-hide
above their heads; for a while the two defenders remained inside and cheered the
Achaeans on to stand firm in the defence of their ships; when, however, they saw
that the Trojans were attacking the wall, while the Danaans were crying out for
help and being routed, they rushed outside and fought in front of the gates like
two wild boars upon the mountains that abide the attack of men and dogs, and
charging on either side break down the wood all round them tearing it up by the
roots, and one can hear the clattering of their tusks, till some one hits them
and makes an end of them–even so did the gleaming bronze rattle about their
breasts, as the weapons fell upon them; for they fought with great fury,
trusting to their own prowess and to those who were on the wall above them.
These threw great stones at their assailants in defence of themselves their
tents and their ships. The stones fell thick as the flakes of snow which some
fierce blast drives from the dark clouds and showers down in sheets upon the
earth–even so fell the weapons from the hands alike of Trojans and Achaeans.
Helmet and shield rang out as the great stones rained upon them, and Asius, the
son of Hyrtacus, in his dismay cried aloud and smote his two thighs. “Father
Jove,” he cried, “of a truth you too are altogether given to lying. I made sure
the Argive heroes could not withstand us, whereas like slim-waisted wasps, or
bees that have their nests in the rocks by the wayside–they leave not the holes
wherein they have built undefended, but fight for their little ones against all
who would take them–even so these men, though they be but two, will not be
driven from the gates, but stand firm either to slay or be slain.”

He spoke, but moved not the mind of Jove, whose counsel it
then was to give glory to Hector. Meanwhile the rest of the Trojans were
fighting about the other gates; I, however, am no god to be able to tell about
all these things, for the battle raged everywhere about the stone wall as it
were a fiery furnace. The Argives, discomfited though they were, were forced to
defend their ships, and all the gods who were defending the Achaeans were vexed
in spirit; but the Lapithae kept on fighting with might and main.

Thereon Polypoetes, mighty son of Pirithous, hit Damasus
with a spear upon his cheek-pierced helmet. The helmet did not protect him, for
the point of the spear went through it, and broke the bone, so that the brain
inside was scattered about, and he died fighting. He then slew Pylon and Ormenus.
Leonteus, of the race of Mars, killed Hippomachus the son of Antimachus by
striking him with his spear upon the girdle. He then drew his sword and sprang
first upon Antiphates whom he killed in combat, and who fell face upwards on the
earth. After him he killed Menon, Iamenus, and Orestes, and laid them low one
after the other.

While they were busy stripping the armour from these
heroes, the youths who were led on by Polydamas and Hector (and these were the
greater part and the most valiant of those that were trying to break through the
wall and fire the ships) were still standing by the trench, uncertain what they
should do; for they had seen a sign from heaven when they had essayed to cross
it–a soaring eagle that flew skirting the left wing of their host, with a
monstrous blood-red snake in its talons still alive and struggling to escape.
The snake was still bent on revenge, wriggling and twisting itself backwards
till it struck the bird that held it, on the neck and breast; whereon the bird
being in pain, let it fall, dropping it into the middle of the host, and then
flew down the wind with a sharp cry. The Trojans were struck with terror when
they saw the snake, portent of aegis-bearing Jove, writhing in the midst of
them, and Polydamas went up to Hector and said, “Hector, at our councils of war
you are ever given to rebuke me, even when I speak wisely, as though it were not
well, forsooth, that one of the people should cross your will either in the
field or at the council board; you would have them support you always:
nevertheless I will say what I think will be best; let us not now go on to fight
the Danaans at their ships, for I know what will happen if this soaring eagle
which skirted the left wing of our host with a monstrous blood-red snake in its
talons (the snake being still alive) was really sent as an omen to the Trojans
on their essaying to cross the trench. The eagle let go her hold; she did not
succeed in taking it home to her little ones, and so will it be–with ourselves;
even though by a mighty effort we break through the gates and wall of the
Achaeans, and they give way before us, still we shall not return in good order
by the way we came, but shall leave many a man behind us whom the Achaeans will
do to death in defence of their ships. Thus would any seer who was expert in
these matters, and was trusted by the people, read the portent.”

Hector looked fiercely at him and said, “Polydamas, I like
not of your reading. You can find a better saying than this if you will. If,
however, you have spoken in good earnest, then indeed has heaven robbed you of
your reason. You would have me pay no heed to the counsels of Jove, nor to the
promises he made me–and he bowed his head in confirmation; you bid me be ruled
rather by the flight of wild-fowl. What care I whether they fly towards dawn or
dark, and whether they be on my right hand or on my left? Let us put our trust
rather in the counsel of great Jove, king of mortals and immortals. There is one
omen, and one only–that a man should fight for his country. Why are you so
fearful? Though we be all of us slain at the ships of the Argives you are not
likely to be killed yourself, for you are not steadfast nor courageous. If you
will not fight, or would talk others over from doing so, you shall fall
forthwith before my spear.”

With these words he led the way, and the others followed
after with a cry that rent the air. Then Jove the lord of thunder sent the blast
of a mighty wind from the mountains of Ida, that bore the dust down towards the
ships; he thus lulled the Achaeans into security, and gave victory to Hector and
to the Trojans, who, trusting to their own might and to the signs he had shown
them, essayed to break through the great wall of the Achaeans. They tore down
the breastworks from the walls, and overthrew the battlements; they upheaved the
buttresses, which the Achaeans had set in front of the wall in order to support
it; when they had pulled these down they made sure of breaking through the wall,
but the Danaans still showed no sign of giving ground; they still fenced the
battlements with their shields of ox-hide, and hurled their missiles down upon
the foe as soon as any came below the wall.

The two Ajaxes went about everywhere on the walls cheering
on the Achaeans, giving fair words to some while they spoke sharply to any one
whom they saw to be remiss. “My friends,” they cried, “Argives one and all–good
bad and indifferent, for there was never fight yet, in which all were of equal
prowess–there is now work enough, as you very well know, for all of you. See
that you none of you turn in flight towards the ships, daunted by the shouting
of the foe, but press forward and keep one another in heart, if it may so be
that Olympian Jove the lord of lightning will vouchsafe us to repel our foes,
and drive them back towards the city.”

Thus did the two go about shouting and cheering the
Achaeans on. As the flakes that fall thick upon a winter’s day, when Jove is
minded to snow and to display these his arrows to mankind–he lulls the wind to
rest, and snows hour after hour till he has buried the tops of the high
mountains, the headlands that jut into the sea, the grassy plains, and the
tilled fields of men; the snow lies deep upon the forelands, and havens of the
grey sea, but the waves as they come rolling in stay it that it can come no
further, though all else is wrapped as with a mantle, so heavy are the heavens
with snow–even thus thickly did the stones fall on one side and on the other,
some thrown at the Trojans, and some by the Trojans at the Achaeans; and the
whole wall was in an uproar.

Still the Trojans and brave Hector would not yet have
broken down the gates and the great bar, had not Jove turned his son Sarpedon
against the Argives as a lion against a herd of horned cattle. Before him he
held his shield of hammered bronze, that the smith had beaten so fair and round,
and had lined with ox hides which he had made fast with rivets of gold all round
the shield; this he held in front of him, and brandishing his two spears came on
like some lion of the wilderness, who has been long famished for want of meat
and will dare break even into a well-fenced homestead to try and get at the
sheep. He may find the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks with dogs and
spears, but he is in no mind to be driven from the fold till he has had a try
for it; he will either spring on a sheep and carry it off, or be hit by a spear
from some strong hand–even so was Sarpedon fain to attack the wall and break
down its battlements. Then he said to Glaucus son of Hippolochus, “Glaucus, why
in Lycia do we receive especial honour as regards our place at table? Why are
the choicest portions served us and our cups kept brimming, and why do men look
up to us as though we were gods? Moreover we hold a large estate by the banks of
the river Xanthus, fair with orchard lawns and wheat-growing land; it becomes
us, therefore, to take our stand at the head of all the Lycians and bear the
brunt of the fight, that one may say to another, ‘Our princes in Lycia eat the
fat of the land and drink best of wine, but they are fine fellows; they fight
well and are ever at the front in battle.’ My good friend, if, when we were once
out of this fight, we could escape old age and death thenceforward and forever,
I should neither press forward myself nor bid you do so, but death in ten
thousand shapes hangs ever over our heads, and no man can elude him; therefore
let us go forward and either win glory for ourselves, or yield it to another.”

Glaucus heeded his saying, and the pair forthwith led on
the host of Lycians. Menestheus son of Peteos was dismayed when he saw them, for
it was against his part of the wall that they came– bringing destruction with
them; he looked along the wall for some chieftain to support his comrades and
saw the two Ajaxes, men ever eager for the fray, and Teucer, who had just come
from his tent, standing near them; but he could not make his voice heard by
shouting to them, so great an uproar was there from crashing shields and helmets
and the battering of gates with a din which reached the skies. For all the gates
had been closed, and the Trojans were hammering at them to try and break their
way through them. Menestheus, therefore, sent Thootes with a message to Ajax.
“Run, good Thootes,” he said, “and call Ajax, or better still bid both come, for
it will be all over with us here directly; the leaders of the Lycians are upon
us, men who have ever fought desperately heretofore. But if they have too much
on their hands to let them come, at any rate let Ajax son of Telamon do so, and
let Teucer, the famous bowman, come with him.”

The messenger did as he was told, and set off running along
the wall of the Achaeans. When he reached the Ajaxes he said to them, “Sirs,
princes of the Argives, the son of noble Peteos bids you come to him for a while
and help him. You had better both come if you can, or it will be all over with
him directly; the leaders of the Lycians are upon him, men who have ever fought
desperately heretofore; if you have too much on your hands to let both come, at
any rate let Ajax, son of Telamon, do so, and let Teucer, the famous bowman,
come with him.”

Great Ajax son of Telamon heeded the message, and at once
spoke to the son of Oileus. “Ajax,” said he, “do you two, yourself and brave
Lycomedes, stay here and keep the Danaans in heart to fight their hardest. I
will go over yonder, and bear my part in the fray, but I will come back here at
once as soon as I have given them the help they need.”

With this, Ajax son of Telamon set off, and Teucer, his
brother by the same father, went also, with Pandion to carry Teucer’s bow. They
went along inside the wall, and when they came to the tower where Menestheus was
(and hard pressed indeed did they find him) the brave captains and leaders of
the Lycians were storming the battlements as it were a thick dark cloud,
fighting in close quarters, and raising the battle-cry aloud.

First, Ajax son of Telamon killed brave Epicles, a comrade
of Sarpedon, hitting him with a jagged stone that lay by the battlements at the
very top of the wall. As men now are, even one who is in the bloom of youth
could hardly lift it with his two hands, but Ajax raised it high aloft and flung
it down, smashing Epicles’ four-crested helmet so that the bones of his head
were crushed to pieces, and he fell from the high wall as though he were diving,
with no more life left in him. Then Teucer wounded Glaucus the brave son of
Hippolochus as he was coming on to attack the wall. He saw his shoulder bare and
aimed an arrow at it, which made Glaucus leave off fighting. Thereon he sprang
covertly down for fear some of the Achaeans might see that he was wounded and
taunt him. Sarpedon was stung with grief when he saw Glaucus leave him, still he
did not leave off fighting, but aimed his spear at Alcmaon the son of Thestor
and hit him. He drew his spear back again and Alcmaon came down headlong after
it with his bronzed armour rattling round him. Then Sarpedon seized the
battlement in his strong hands, and tugged at it till it all gave way together,
and a breach was made through which many might pass.

Ajax and Teucer then both of them attacked him. Teucer hit
him with an arrow on the band that bore the shield which covered his body, but
Jove saved his son from destruction that he might not fall by the ships’ sterns.
Meanwhile Ajax sprang on him and pierced his shield, but the spear did not go
clean through, though it hustled him back that he could come on no further. He
therefore retired a little space from the battlement, yet without losing all his
ground, for he still thought to cover himself with glory. Then he turned round
and shouted to the brave Lycians saying, “Lycians, why do you thus fail me? For
all my prowess I cannot break through the wall and open a way to the ships
single-handed. Come close on behind me, for the more there are of us the
better.”

The Lycians, shamed by his rebuke, pressed closer round him
who was their counsellor and their king. The Argives on their part got their men
in fighting order within the wall, and there was a deadly struggle between them.
The Lycians could not break through the wall and force their way to the ships,
nor could the Danaans drive the Lycians from the wall now that they had once
reached it. As two men, measuring-rods in hand, quarrel about their boundaries
in a field that they own in common, and stickle for their rights though they be
but in a mere strip, even so did the battlements now serve as a bone of
contention, and they beat one another’s round shields for their possession. Many
a man’s body was wounded with the pitiless bronze, as he turned round and bared
his back to the foe, and many were struck clean through their shields; the wall
and battlements were everywhere deluged with the blood alike of Trojans and of
Achaeans. But even so the Trojans could not rout the Achaeans, who still held
on; and as some honest hard-working woman weighs wool in her balance and sees
that the scales be true, for she would gain some pitiful earnings for her little
ones, even so was the fight balanced evenly between them till the time came when
Jove gave the greater glory to Hector son of Priam, who was first to spring
towards the wall of the Achaeans. When he had done so, he cried aloud to the
Trojans, “Up, Trojans, break the wall of the Argives, and fling fire upon their
ships.”

Thus did he hound them on, and in one body they rushed
straight at the wall as he had bidden them, and scaled the battlements with
sharp spears in their hands. Hector laid hold of a stone that lay just outside
the gates and was thick at one end but pointed at the other; two of the best men
in a town, as men now are, could hardly raise it from the ground and put it on
to a waggon, but Hector lifted it quite easily by himself, for the son of
scheming Saturn made it light for him. As a shepherd picks up a ram’s fleece
with one hand and finds it no burden, so easily did Hector lift the great stone
and drive it right at the doors that closed the gates so strong and so firmly
set. These doors were double and high, and were kept closed by two cross-bars to
which there was but one key. When he had got close up to them, Hector strode
towards them that his blow might gain in force and struck them in the middle,
leaning his whole weight against them. He broke both hinges, and the stone fell
inside by reason of its great weight. The portals re-echoed with the sound, the
bars held no longer, and the doors flew open, one one way, and the other the
other, through the force of the blow. Then brave Hector leaped inside with a
face as dark as that of flying night. The gleaming bronze flashed fiercely about
his body and he had two spears in his hand. None but a god could have withstood
him as he flung himself into the gateway, and his eyes glared like fire. Then he
turned round towards the Trojans and called on them to scale the wall, and they
did as he bade them–some of them at once climbing over the wall, while others
passed through the gates. The Danaans then fled panic-stricken towards their
ships, and all was uproar and confusion.