Wherefore, thyself mortal, pursuest thou me
Immortal? oh Achilles! blind with rage,10
Thou know’st not yet, that thou pursuest a God.
Unmindful of thy proper task, to press
The flying Trojans, thou hast hither turn’d
Devious, and they are all now safe in Troy;
Yet hope me not to slay; I cannot die.15
To whom Achilles swiftest of the swift,
Indignant. Oh, of all the Powers above
To me most adverse, Archer of the skies!
Thou hast beguiled me, leading me away
From Ilium far, whence intercepted, else,20
No few had at this moment gnaw’d the glebe.
Thou hast defrauded me of great renown,
And, safe thyself, hast rescued them with ease.
Ah—had I power, I would requite thee well.
So saying, incensed he turned toward the town25
His rapid course, like some victorious steed
That whirls, at stretch, a chariot to the goal.
Such seem’d Achilles, coursing light the field.
Him, first, the ancient King of Troy perceived
Scouring the plain, resplendent as the star30
Autumnal, of all stars in dead of night
Conspicous most, and named Orion’s dog;
Brightest it shines, but ominous, and dire
Disease portends to miserable man;[1]
So beam’d Achilles’ armor as he flew.35
Loud wail’d the hoary King; with lifted hands
His head he smote, and, uttering doleful cries
Of supplication, sued to his own son.
He, fixt before the gate, desirous stood
Of combat with Achilles, when his sire40
With arms outstretch’d toward him, thus began.
My Hector! wait not, oh my son! the approach
Of this dread Chief, alone, lest premature
Thou die, this moment by Achilles slain,
For he is strongest far. Oh that the Gods45
Him loved as I! then, soon should vultures rend
And dogs his carcase, and my grief should cease.
He hath unchilded me of many a son,
All valiant youths, whom he hath slain or sold
To distant isles, and even now, I miss50
Two sons, whom since the shutting of the gates
I find not, Polydorus and Lycaon,
My children by Laothöe the fair.
If they survive prisoners in yonder camp,
I will redeem them with gold and brass55
By noble Eltes to his daughter given,
Large store, and still reserved. But should they both,
Already slain, have journey’d to the shades,
We, then, from whom they sprang have cause to mourn
And mourn them long, but shorter shall the grief60
Of Ilium prove, if thou escape and live.
Come then, my son! enter the city-gate
That thou may’st save us all, nor in thy bloom
Of life cut off, enhance Achilles’ fame.
Commiserate also thy unhappy sire65
Ere yet distracted, whom Saturnian Jove
Ordains to a sad death, and ere I die
To woes innumerable; to behold
Sons slaughter’d, daughters ravish’d, torn and stripp’d
The matrimonial chamber, infants dash’d70
Against the ground in dire hostility,[2]
And matrons dragg’d by ruthless Grecian hands.
Me, haply, last of all, dogs shall devour
In my own vestibule, when once the spear
Or falchion of some Greek hath laid me low.75
The very dogs fed at my table-side,
My portal-guards, drinking their master’s blood
To drunkenness, shall wallow in my courts.
Fair falls the warlike youth in battle slain,
And when he lies torn by the pointed steel,80
His death becomes him well; he is secure,
Though dead, from shame, whatever next befalls:
But when the silver locks and silver beard
Of an old man slain by the sword, from dogs
Receive dishonor, of all ills that wait85
On miserable man, that sure is worst.
So spake the ancient King, and his grey hairs
Pluck’d with both hands, but Hector firm endured.
On the other side all tears his mother stood,
And lamentation; with one hand she bared,90
And with the other hand produced her breast,
Then in wing’d accents, weeping, him bespake.
My Hector! reverence this, and pity me
If ever, drawing forth this breast, thy griefs
Of infancy I soothed, oh now, my son!95
Acknowledge it, and from within the walls
Repulse this enemy; stand not abroad
To cope with him, for he is savage-fierce,
And should he slay thee, neither shall myself
Who bore thee, nor thy noble spouse weep o’er100
Thy body, but, where we can never come,
Dogs shall devour it in the fleet of Greece.
So they with prayers importuned, and with tears
Their son, but him sway’d not; unmoved he stood,
Expecting vast Achilles now at hand.105
As some fell serpent in his cave expects
The traveller’s approach, batten’d with herbs
Of baneful juice to fury,[3] forth he looks
Hideous, and lies coil’d all around his den,
So Hector, fill’d with confidence untamed,110
Fled not, but placing his bright shield against
A buttress, with his noble heart conferr’d.
[4]Alas for me! should I repass the gate,
Polydamas would be the first to heap
Reproaches on me, for he bade me lead115
The Trojans back this last calamitous night
In which Achilles rose to arms again.
But I refused, although to have complied,
Had proved more profitable far; since then
By rash resolves of mine I have destroy’d120
The people, how can I escape the blame
Of all in Troy? The meanest there will say—
By his self-will he hath destroy’d us all.
So shall they speak, and then shall I regret
That I return’d ere I had slain in fight125
Achilles, or that, by Achilles slain,
I died not nobly in defence of Troy.
But shall I thus? Lay down my bossy shield,
Put off my helmet, and my spear recline
Against the city wall, then go myself130
To meet the brave Achilles, and at once
Promise him Helen, for whose sake we strive
With all the wealth that Paris in his fleet
Brought home, to be restored to Atreus’ sons,
And to distribute to the Greeks at large135
All hidden treasures of the town, an oath
Taking beside from every senator,
That he will nought conceal, but will produce
And share in just equality what stores
Soever our fair city still includes?140
Ah airy speculations, questions vain!
I may not sue to him: compassion none
Will he vouchsafe me, or my suit respect.
But, seeing me unarm’d, will sate at once
His rage, and womanlike I shall be slain.145
It is no time from oak or hollow rock
With him to parley, as a nymph and swain,
A nymph and swain[5] soft parley mutual hold,
But rather to engage in combat fierce
Incontinent; so shall we soonest learn150
Whom Jove will make victorious, him or me.
Thus pondering he stood; meantime approach’d
Achilles, terrible as fiery Mars,
Crest-tossing God, and brandish’d as he came
O’er his right shoulder high the Pelian spear.155
Like lightning, or like flame, or like the sun
Ascending, beam’d his armor. At that sight
Trembled the Trojan Chief, nor dared expect
His nearer step, but flying left the gates
Far distant, and Achilles swift pursued.160
As in the mountains, fleetest fowl of air,
The hawk darts eager at the dove; she scuds
Aslant, he screaming, springs and springs again
To seize her, all impatient for the prey,
So flew Achilles constant to the track165
Of Hector, who with dreadful haste beneath
The Trojan bulwarks plied his agile limbs.
Passing the prospect-mount where high in air
The wild-fig waved,[6] they rush’d along the road,
Declining never from the wall of Troy.170
And now they reach’d the running rivulets clear,
Where from Scamander’s dizzy flood arise
Two fountains,[7] tepid one, from which a smoke
Issues voluminous as from a fire,
The other, even in summer heats, like hail175
For cold, or snow, or crystal-stream frost-bound.
Beside them may be seen the broad canals
Of marble scoop’d, in which the wives of Troy
And all her daughters fair were wont to lave
Their costly raiment,[8] while the land had rest,180
And ere the warlike sons of Greece arrived.
By these they ran, one fleeing, one in chase.
Valiant was he who fled, but valiant far
Beyond him he who urged the swift pursuit;
Nor ran they for a vulgar prize, a beast185
For sacrifice, or for the hide of such,
The swift foot-racer’s customary meed,
But for the noble Hector’s life they ran.
As when two steeds, oft conquerors, trim the goal
For some illustrious prize, a tripod bright190
Or beauteous virgin, at a funeral game,
So they with nimble feet the city thrice
Of Priam compass’d. All the Gods look’d on,
And thus the Sire of Gods and men began.