To whom his awful spouse, displeased, replied.
How speaks the terrible Saturnian Jove!
Wouldst thou again from pangs of death exempt
A mortal man, destined long since to die?535
Do it. But small thy praise shall be in heaven,
Mark thou my words, and in thy inmost breast
Treasure them. If thou send Sarpedon safe
To his own home, how many Gods their sons
May also send from battle? Weigh it well.540
For under yon great city fight no few
Sprung from Immortals whom thou shalt provoke.
But if thou love him, and thine heart his lot
Commiserate, leave him by the hands to fall
Of Menœtiades in conflict dire;545
But give command to Death and gentle Sleep
That him of life bereft at once they bear
To Lycia’s ample realm,[14] where, with due rites
Funereal, his next kindred and his friends
Shall honor him, a pillar and a tomb550
(The dead man’s portion) rearing to his name.
She said, from whom the Sire of Gods and men
Dissented not, but on the earth distill’d
A sanguine shower in honor of a son
Dear to him, whom Patroclus on the field555
Of fruitful Troy should slay, far from his home.
Opposite now, small interval between,
Those heroes stood. Patroclus at his waist
Pierced Thrasymelus the illustrious friend
Of King Sarpedon, and his charioteer.560
Spear’d through the lower bowels, dead he fell.
Then hurl’d Sarpedon in his turn a lance,
But miss’d Patroclus and the shoulder pierced
Of Pedasus the horse; he groaning heaved
His spirit forth, and fallen on the field565
In long loud moanings sorrowful expired.
Wide started the immortal pair; the yoke
Creak’d, and entanglement of reins ensued
To both, their fellow slaughter’d at their side.
That mischief soon Automedon redress’d.570
He rose, and from beside his sturdy thigh
Drawing his falchion, with effectual stroke
Cut loose the side-horse; then the pair reduced
To order, in their traces stood composed,
And the two heroes fierce engaged again.575
Again his radiant spear Sarpedon hurl’d,
But miss’d Patroclus; the innocuous point,
O’erflying his left shoulder, pass’d beyond.
Then with bright lance Patroclus in his turn
Assail’d Sarpedon, nor with erring course580
The weapon sped or vain, but pierced profound
His chest, enclosure of the guarded heart.
As falls an oak, poplar, or lofty pine
With new-edged axes on the mountains hewn
Right through, for structure of some gallant bark,585
So fell Sarpedon stretch’d his steeds before
And gnash’d his teeth and clutch’d the bloody dust,
And as a lion slays a tawny bull
Leader magnanimous of all the herd;
Beneath the lion’s jaws groaning he dies;590
So, leader of the shielded Lycians groan’d
Indignant, by Patroclus slain, the bold
Sarpedon, and his friend thus, sad, bespake.
Glaucus, my friend, among these warring Chiefs
Thyself a Chief illustrious! thou hast need595
Of all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,
And, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,
Now make the war’s calamities thy joy.
First, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse
Our Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain,600
Then haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend.
For shame and foul dishonor which no time
Shall e’er obliterate, I must prove to thee,
Should the Achaians of my glorious arms
Despoil me in full prospect[15] of the fleet.605
Fight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight.
He said, and cover’d by the night of death,
Nor look’d nor breath’d again; for on his chest
Implanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew
The spear enfolded with his vitals forth,610
Weapon and life at once. Meantime his steeds
Snorted, by Myrmidons detain’d, and, loosed
From their own master’s chariot, foam’d to fly.
Terrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,
Hearing that charge, and troubled was his heart615
That all power fail’d him to protect the dead.
Compressing his own arm he stood, with pain
Extreme tormented which the shaft had caused
Of Teucer, who while Glaucus climb’d the wall,
Had pierced him from it, in the fleet’s defence.620
Then, thus, to Phœbus, King shaft-arm’d, he pray’d.
Hear now, O King! For whether in the land
Of wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,
Thou hear’st in every place alike the prayer
Of the afflicted heart, and such is mine;625
Behold my wound; it fills my useless hand
With anguish, neither can my blood be stay’d,
And all my shoulder suffers. I can grasp
A spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks
No longer now; and we have also lost630
Our noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,
Who guards not his own son. But thou, O King!
Heal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,
That I may animate the Lycian host
To fight, and may, myself, defend the dead!635
Such prayer he offer’d, whom Apollo heard;
He eased at once his pain, the sable blood
Staunch’d, and his soul with vigor new inspired.
Then Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived
Granted, and joyful for the sudden aid640
Vouchsafed to him by Phœbus, first the lines
Of Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief
To fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next
With eager haste into the ranks of Troy,
Renown’d Agenor and the son he call’d645
Of Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom
Æneas also, and approaching last
To Hector brazen-mail’d him thus bespake.
Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign’d
All care of thy allies, who, for thy sake,650
Lost both to friends and country, on these plains
Perish, unaided and unmiss’d by thee.
Sarpedon breathless lies, who led to fight
Our shielded bands, and from whose just control
And courage Lycia drew her chief defence.655
Him brazen Mars hath by the spear subdued
Of Menœtiades. But stand ye firm!
Let indignation fire you, O my friends!
Lest, stripping him of his resplendent arms,
The Myrmidons with foul dishonor shame660
His body, through resentment of the deaths
Of numerous Grecians slain by spears of ours.
He ceased; then sorrow every Trojan heart
Seized insupportable and that disdain’d
All bounds, for that, although a stranger born,665
Sarpedon ever had a bulwark proved
To Troy, the leader of a numerous host,
And of that host by none in fight excell’d.
Right on toward the Danaï they moved
Ardent for battle all, and at their head670
Enraged for slain Sarpedon, Hector came.
Meantime, stout-hearted[16] Chief, Patroclus roused
The Grecians, and exhorting first (themselves
Already prompt) the Ajaces, thus began.