Shame were it, Grecians! should we seek by flight500
Our galleys now; yawn earth our feet beneath
And here ingulf us rather! Better far
Than to permit the steed-famed host of Troy
To drag Patroclus hence into the town,
And make the glory of this conflict theirs.505
Thus also of the dauntless Trojans spake
A certain warrior. Oh, my friends! although
The Fates ordain us, one and all, to die
Around this body, stand! quit not the field.
So spake the warrior prompting into act510
The courage of his friends, and such they strove
On both sides; high into the vault of heaven
The iron din pass’d through the desart air.
Meantime the horses of Æacides
From fight withdrawn, soon as they understood515
Their charioteer fallen in the dust beneath
The arm of homicidal Hector, wept.
Them oft with hasty lash Diores’ son
Automedon impatient smote, full oft
He stroked them gently, and as oft he chode;[7]520
Yet neither to the fleet ranged on the shore
Of spacious Hellespont would they return,
Nor with the Grecians seek the fight, but stood
As a sepulchral pillar stands, unmoved
Between their traces;[8] to the earth they hung525
Their heads, with plenteous tears their driver mourn’d,
And mingled their dishevell’d manes with dust.
Jove saw their grief with pity, and his brows
Shaking, within himself thus, pensive, said.
Ah hapless pair! Wherefore by gift divine530
Were ye to Peleus given, a mortal king,
Yourselves immortal and from age exempt?
Was it that ye might share in human woes?
For, of all things that breathe or creep the earth,
No creature lives so mere a wretch as man.535
Yet shall not Priameian Hector ride
Triumphant, drawn by you. Myself forbid.
Suffice it that he boasts vain-gloriously
Those arms his own. Your spirit and your limbs
I will invigorate, that ye may bear540
Safe hence Automedon into the fleet.
For I ordain the Trojans still to spread
Carnage around victorious, till they reach
The gallant barks, and till the sun at length
Descending, sacred darkness cover all.545
He said, and with new might the steeds inspired.
They, shaking from their hair profuse the dust,
Between the van of either army whirl’d
The rapid chariot. Fighting as he pass’d,
Though fill’d with sorrow for his slaughter’d friend,550
Automedon high-mounted swept the field
Impetuous as a vulture scattering geese;
Now would he vanish, and now, turn’d again,
Chase through a multitude his trembling foe;
But whomsoe’er he follow’d, none he slew,555
Nor was the task possible to a Chief
Sole in the sacred chariot, both to aim
The spear aright and guide the fiery steeds.
At length Alcimedon, his friend in arms,
Son of Laerceus son of Æmon, him560
Observing, from behind the chariot hail’d
The flying warrior, whom he thus bespake.
What power, Automedon! hath ta’en away
Thy better judgment, and thy breast inspired
With this vain purpose to assail alone565
The Trojan van? Thy partner in the fight
Is slain, and Hector on his shoulders bears,
Elate, the armor of Æacides.
Then, answer thus Automedon return’d,
Son of Diores. Who of all our host570
Was ever skill’d, Alcimedon! as thou
To rule the fire of these immortal steeds,
Save only while he lived, peer of the Gods
In that great art, Patroclus, now no more?
Thou, therefore, the resplendent reins receive575
And scourge, while I, dismounting, wage the fight.
He ceased; Alcimedon without delay
The battle-chariot mounting, seized at once
The lash and reins, and from his seat down leap’d
Automedon. Them noble Hector mark’d,580
And to Æneas at his side began.
Illustrious Chief of Trojans brazen-mail’d
Æneas! I have noticed yonder steeds
Of swift Achilles rushing into fight
Conspicuous, but under sway of hands585
Unskilful; whence arises a fair hope
That we might seize them, wert thou so inclined;
For never would those two dare to oppose
In battle an assault dreadful as ours.
He ended, nor the valiant son refused590
Of old Anchises, but with targets firm
Of season’d hide brass-plated thrown athwart
Their shoulders, both advanced direct, with whom
Of godlike form Aretus also went
And Chromius. Ardent hope they all conceived595
To slay those Chiefs, and from the field to drive
Achilles’ lofty steeds. Vain hope! for them
No bloodless strife awaited with the force
Of brave Automedon; he, prayer to Jove
First offering, felt his angry soul with might600
Heroic fill’d, and thus his faithful friend
Alcimedon, incontinent, address’d.