"Where lies my way? to enter in the wall?
Honor and shame the ungenerous thought recall:
Shall proud Polydamas* before the gate
Proclaim, his counsels are obeyed too late,
Which timely follow'd but the former night
What numbers had been saved by Hector's flight?
That wise advice rejected with disdain,
I feel my folly in my people slain.
Methinks my suffering country's voice I hear,
But most her worthless sons insult my ear,
On my rash courage charge the chance of war,
And blame those virtues which they cannot share.
No—if I e'er return, return I must
Glorious, my country's terror laid in dust:
Or if I perish, let her see me fall
In field at least, and fighting for her wall."
*[Footnote: Polydamas, a Trojan hero and a friend of Hector's,
had previously advised prudence and retreat within the wall.]
Thus pondering, like a god the Greek drew nigh;
His dreadful plumage nodded from on high;
The Pelian* javelin, in his better hand,
Shot trembling rays that glitter'd o'er the land;
And on his breast the beamy splendor shone,
Like Jove's own lightning, o'er the rising sun.
As Hector sees, unusual terrors rise;
Struck by some god, he fears, recedes, and flies.
He leaves the gates, he leaves the wall behind:
Achilles follows like the winged wind.
Thus at the panting dove a falcon flies
(The swiftest racer of the liquid skies),
Just when he holds, or thinks he holds his prey,
Obliquely wheeling through the aerial way,
With open beak and shrilling cries he springs,
And aims his claws, and shoots upon his wings:
No less fore-right* the rapid chase they held,
One urged by fury, one by fear impell'd:
Now circling round the walls their course maintain,
Where the high watch-tower overlooks the plain;
Now where the fig-trees spread their umbrage broad,
(A wider compass), smoke along the road.
Next by Scamander's* double source they bound,
Where two famed fountains burst the parted ground;
This hot through scorching clefts is seen to rise,
With exhalations streaming to the skies;
That the green banks in summer's heat o'erflows,
Like crystal clear, and cold as winter snows:
Each gushing fount a marble cistern fills,
Whose polished bed receives the falling rills;
Where Trojan dames (ere yet alarm'd by Greece)
Wash'd their fair garments in the days of peace.*
By these they pass'd, one chasing, one in flight
The mighty fled, pursued by stronger might:
Swift was the course; no vulgar prize they play,
No vulgar victim must reward the day:
Such as in races crown the speedy strife:
The prize contended was great Hector's life.
*[Footnote: Pelian is an adjective formed from Peleus,
the name of the father of Achilles.]
*[Footnote: Fore-right means straight forward.]
*[Footnote: The Scamander was a famous river that flowed near the
city of Troy. According to the Iliad, its source was two springs,
one a cold and one a hot spring.]
*[Footnote: It was not, in these very ancient times, thought beneath
the dignity of even a princess to wash her linen in some clear river
or spring.]
As when some hero's funerals are decreed
In grateful honor of the mighty dead;*
Where high rewards the vigorous youth inflame
(Some golden tripod, or some lovely dame)
The panting coursers swiftly turn the goal,
And with them turns the raised spectator's soul:
Thus three times round the Trojan wall they fly.
The gazing gods lean forward from the sky.*
*[Footnote: The favorite way, among the ancients, of doing honor to
a man after his death was to hold a sort of a funeral festival,
where contests in running, wrestling, boxing, and other feats of
strength and skill were held.]
*[Footnote: The gods play a very important part in the Iliad.
Sometimes, as here, they simply watch the struggle from their home
above Olympus; sometimes, as in the first lines of this selection,
they actually descend to the battlefield and take part in the
contest.]
As through the forest, o'er the vale and lawn,
The well-breath'd beagle drives the flying fawn,
In vain he tries the covert of the brakes,
Or deep beneath the trembling thicket shakes;
Sure of the vapor* in the tainted dews,
The certain hound his various maze pursues.
Thus step by step, where'er the Trojan wheel'd,
There swift Achilles compass'd round the field.
Oft as to reach the Dardan* gates he bends,
And hopes the assistance of his pitying friends,
(Whose showering arrows, as he coursed below,
From the high turrets might oppress the foe),
So oft Achilles turns him to the plain:
He eyes the city, but he eyes in vain.
As men in slumbers seem with speedy pace,
One to pursue, and one to lead the chase,
Their sinking limbs the fancied course forsake,
Nor this can fly, nor that can overtake;
No less the laboring heroes pant and strain:
While that but flies, and this pursues in vain.
*[Footnote: Vapor here means scent.]
*[Footnote: Dardan is an old word for Trojan.]
What god, O Muse,* assisted Hector's force
With fate itself so long to hold the course?
Phoebus* it was; who, in his latest hour,
Endued his knees with strength, his nerves with power.
And great Achilles, lest some Greek's advance
Should snatch the glory from his lifted lance,
Sign'd to the troops to yield his foe the way,
And leave untouch'd the honors of the day.
*[Footnote: The Muses were nine sister goddesses who inspired poetry
and music. No ancient Greek poet ever undertook to write without
first seeking the aid of the Muse who presided over the particular
kind of poetry that he was writing. Homer here addresses Calliope,
the Muse of epic poetry.]
*[Footnote: Phoebus is Apollo, whom at the opening of this selection
we found aiding Hector by misleading Achilles.]