To whom the noble son of Pelegon.
Pelides, mighty Chief? Why hast thou ask’d185
My derivation? From the land I come
Of mellow-soil’d Pœonia far remote,
Chief leader of Pœnia’s host spear-arm’d;
This day hath also the eleventh risen
Since I at Troy arrived. For my descent,190
It is from Axius river wide-diffused,
From Axius, fairest stream that waters earth,
Sire of bold Pelegon whom men report
My sire. Let this suffice. Now fight, Achilles!
So spake he threatening, and Achilles raised195
Dauntless the Pelian ash. At once two spears
The hero bold, Asteropæus threw,
With both hands apt for battle. One his shield
Struck but pierced not, impeded by the gold,
Gift of a God; the other as it flew200
Grazed at his right elbow; sprang the sable blood;
But, overflying him, the spear in earth
Stood planted deep, still hungering for the prey.
Then, full at the Pœonian Peleus’ son
Hurl’d forth his weapon with unsparing force205
But vain; he struck the sloping river bank,
And mid-length deep stood plunged the ashen beam.
Then, with his falchion drawn, Achilles flew
To smite him; he in vain, meantime, essay’d
To pluck the rooted spear forth from the bank;210
Thrice with full force he shook the beam, and thrice,
Although reluctant, left it; at his fourth
Last effort, bending it he sought to break
The ashen spear-beam of Æacides,
But perish’d by his keen-edged falchion first;215
For on the belly at his navel’s side
He smote him; to the ground effused fell all
His bowels, death’s dim shadows veil’d his eyes.
Achilles ardent on his bosom fix’d
His foot, despoil’d him, and exulting cried.220
Lie there; though River-sprung, thou find’st it hard
To cope with sons of Jove omnipotent.
Thou said’st, a mighty River is my sire—
But my descent from mightier Jove I boast;
My father, whom the Myrmidons obey,225
Is son of Æacus, and he of Jove.
As Jove all streams excels that seek the sea,
So, Jove’s descendants nobler are than theirs.
Behold a River at thy side—let him
Afford thee, if he can, some succor—No—230
He may not fight against Saturnian Jove.
Therefore, not kingly Acheloïus,
Nor yet the strength of Ocean’s vast profound,
Although from him all rivers and all seas,
All fountains and all wells proceed, may boast235
Comparison with Jove, but even he
Astonish’d trembles at his fiery bolt,
And his dread thunders rattling in the sky.
He said, and drawing from the bank his spear[5]
Asteropæus left stretch’d on the sands,240
Where, while the clear wave dash’d him, eels his flanks
And ravening fishes numerous nibbled bare.
The horsed Pœonians next he fierce assail’d,
Who seeing their brave Chief slain by the sword
And forceful arm of Peleus’ son, beside245
The eddy-whirling stream fled all dispersed.
Thersilochus and Mydon then he slew,
Thrasius, Astypylus and Ophelestes,
Ænius and Mnesus; nor had these sufficed
Achilles, but Pœonians more had fallen,250
Had not the angry River from within
His circling gulfs in semblance, of a man
Call’d to him, interrupting thus his rage.
Oh both in courage and injurious deeds
Unmatch’d, Achilles! whom themselves the Gods255
Cease not to aid, if Saturn’s son have doom’d
All Ilium’s race to perish by thine arm,
Expel them, first, from me, ere thou achieve
That dread exploit; for, cumber’d as I am
With bodies, I can pour my pleasant stream260
No longer down into the sacred deep;
All vanish where thou comest. But oh desist
Dread Chief! Amazement fills me at thy deeds.
To whom Achilles, matchless in the race.
River divine! hereafter be it so.265
But not from slaughter of this faithless host
I cease, till I shall shut them fast in Troy
And trial make of Hector, if his arm
In single fight shall strongest prove, or mine
He said, and like a God, furious, again270
Assail’d the Trojans; then the circling flood
To Phœbus thus his loud complaint address’d.
Ah son of Jove, God of the silver bow!
The mandate of the son of Saturn ill
Hast thou perform’d, who, earnest, bade thee aid275
The Trojans, till (the sun sunk in the West)
Night’s shadow dim should veil the fruitful field.
He ended, and Achilles spear-renown’d
Plunged from the bank into the middle stream.
Then, turbulent, the River all his tide280
Stirr’d from the bottom, landward heaving off
The numerous bodies that his current chok’d
Slain by Achilles; them, as with the roar
Of bulls, he cast aground, but deep within
His oozy gulfs the living safe conceal’d.285
Terrible all around Achilles stood
The curling wave, then, falling on his shield
Dash’d him, nor found his footsteps where to rest.
An elm of massy trunk he seized and branch
Luxuriant, but it fell torn from the root290
And drew the whole bank after it; immersed
It damm’d the current with its ample boughs,
And join’d as with a bridge the distant shores,
Upsprang Achilles from the gulf and turn’d
His feet, now wing’d for flight, into the plain295
Astonish’d; but the God, not so appeased,
Arose against him with a darker curl,[6]
That he might quell him and deliver Troy.
Back flew Achilles with a bound, the length
Of a spear’s cast, for such a spring he own’d300
As bears the black-plumed eagle on her prey
Strongest and swiftest of the fowls of air.
Like her he sprang, and dreadful on his chest
Clang’d his bright armor. Then, with course oblique
He fled his fierce pursuer, but the flood,305
Fly where he might, came thundering in his rear.
As when the peasant with his spade a rill
Conducts from some pure fountain through his grove
Or garden, clearing the obstructed course,
The pebbles, as it runs, all ring beneath,310
And, as the slope still deepens, swifter still
It runs, and, murmuring, outstrips the guide,
So him, though swift, the river always reach’d
Still swifter; who can cope with power divine?
Oft as the noble Chief, turning, essay’d315
Resistance, and to learn if all the Gods
Alike rush’d after him, so oft the flood,
Jove’s offspring, laved his shoulders. Upward then
He sprang distress’d, but with a sidelong sweep
Assailing him, and from beneath his steps320
Wasting the soil, the Stream his force subdued.
Then looking to the skies, aloud he mourn’d.
Eternal Sire! forsaken by the Gods
I sink, none deigns to save me from the flood,
From which once saved, I would no death decline.325
Yet blame I none of all the Powers of heaven
As Thetis; she with falsehood sooth’d my soul,
She promised me a death by Phœbus’ shafts
Swift-wing’d, beneath the battlements of Troy.
I would that Hector, noblest of his race,330
Had slain me, I had then bravely expired
And a brave man had stripp’d me of my arms.
But fate now dooms me to a death abhorr’d
Whelm’d in deep waters, like a swine-herd’s boy
Drown’d in wet weather while he fords a brook.335
So spake Achilles; then, in human form,
Minerva stood and Neptune at his side;
Each seized his hand confirming him, and thus
The mighty Shaker of the shores began.