Chapter IV: The Similes (4)

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Notwithstanding these bold words, the wound was severe, and as soon as Odysseus, who ran to aid his friend, had drawn out the shaft, Diomede was obliged to retire from the battlefield.

As Odysseus was about to join the ranks of the retreating Greeks he found himself hemmed in by a party of Trojan spearsmen, who surrounded him with a circle of bristling points. Then as a wild boar issues from his shady lair, foaming and champing his teeth, and charges down upon the hounds and hunters who have beset the covert, so sprang Odysseus on his assailants, and in a moment four of them lay writhing at his feet. The last of these, a young noble named Charops, found an avenger in Socus, his brother, who thrust so vigorously at Odysseus with his spear that the point clave through shield and corslet, and made a long ragged wound in his side. Socus, in his turn, who fled as soon as the blow was struck, was gored in the back, between the shoulders, by the spear of Odysseus. But that sage and valiant warrior was now in deadly peril; for when the Trojans saw his blood flowing, as he drew out the lance from his corslet and shield, they fell upon him like one man, with wild cries of triumph. Slowly he gave back before them, shouting aloud to his friends to come to his rescue. Three times he cried, and his voice reached the ears of Menelaus, who hurried to his relief, bringing with him the mighty Ajax, son of Telamon.

They came not a moment too soon, for Odysseus was hard beset by his clamorous foes, who crowded round him, like jackals round a tall antlered stag which has been wounded with an arrow, and has fled to the shelter of the woods: but while the jackals are yelping about him, up comes a great bearded lion, and scatters the jackals, and makes the stag his prey. So when the towering form of Ajax appeared, as he advanced with his huge orbed shield, the Trojans abandoned their intended victim, and fled in dismay. Menelaus took the wounded man by the hand, and led him to the place where his chariot was waiting, leaving Ajax occupied with a fresh column of Trojans, who came pouring to the attack when they saw their friends routed. Then mightily raged the sword of Ajax, falling like a flail on the heads of his foes, and man and horse went down before him.

All this time Hector had been fighting in another part of the field, at the extreme left of the line of battle, where the Greeks were led by Nestor and Idomeneus. A lucky shot from the bow of Paris disabled Machaon, who, besides being a stout fighter, was the most skilful leech in the Greek army. "We must save him at any cost," said Idomeneus to Nestor. "A skilful physician is worth a whole troop of spearsmen. Mount thou thy car, and carry him with all speed to the camp." Nestor did as he was advised, and Idomeneus was thus left to bear the brunt alone.

Just at this moment Cebriones, Hector's charioteer, came galloping up with the news that the main body of the Trojans was suffering severely from the attack led by Ajax. As the departure of Nestor and Machaon had left him little to do in this part of the field, Hector at once mounted his chariot, and directed his course towards the spot where Ajax was fighting. Right between the warring lines he drove, trampling over corpses, helmets, and shields; and steeds and car were spattered with blood. Soon he was joined by a strong troop of Trojan warriors, and Ajax found himself assailed by a storm of missiles. Then even that mighty man felt a touch of fear, and throwing his shield behind him he began slowly to retire, halting at every step, and striking down some too daring assailant. Like a lion who has been driven off from a herdsman's steading with javelins, and with stones, and with burning brands, yet will not leave the place, but prowls near all night, lusting after the flesh of the fat beeves--so Ajax, though hard beset, drew back reluctantly, inch by inch, before the clamour and fury of his foes. Dogged he was, and hard to stir from his place, like some big greedy ass who has found his way into a deep field of corn, and will not budge till he has filled his belly, though assailed by a laughing crowd of children, who rain blows on his back and ribs,--even so the blows rained upon Ajax, who was encumbered by the weight of the spears which had pierced his shield. At last, the Greeks advanced to his succour in close array, and joining their ranks he wheeled once more and faced the thronging Trojans.

III

The tide of battle had thus turned again, and the Greeks were being driven steadily back upon their camp. The roar of the conflict reached the ears of Achilles, who was standing near his ship, peering out eagerly over the Trojan plain; and at the same moment he saw Nestor driving past in his chariot, bringing with him the wounded Machaon. Then he called to Patroclus, and bade him go and inquire who the injured man was. "I think," he added, "that it was Machaon; but the car passed me in a flash, and I saw not his face. Methinks the hour of my revenge is near, for the Greeks are in a sore strait." Ah! son of Peleus, thy revenge is indeed near, but thou little dreamest how dearly thou wilt pay for that bitter morsel.

When Patroclus reached the tent of Nestor he found the venerable King of Pylos sitting with Machaon, waiting while a handmaid prepared for them a slight refection. The woman drew a table before them, and on it she placed a brazen dish, with onions, and honeycomb, and barley cakes. Then she took a massive cup, embossed with gold, resting on a double base, and having four golden handles, each one of which was wrought in the form of two doves, which seemed to be feeding from the cup. In this vessel she prepared a posset, pouring in a rich red wine, into which she sprinkled cheese of goats' milk and white barley meal. And when the posset was ready she set it on the table, and bade them drink.

The cup was very weighty, and a strong hand was needed to lift it to the lips; but Nestor raised it easily, old as he was, and was about to take a draught, when, looking up, he saw Patroclus standing at the door of the tent. Replacing the goblet on the table, Nestor rose to greet him, and taking him by the hand invited him to enter. But Patroclus hesitated, wishing to return at once with the required information to his friend, whose impatient and exacting mood he knew and feared. "I was sent," he said, "to ask the name of the wounded man, and I see that it is Machaon. Achilles waits for an answer, and I dare not keep him waiting." Nevertheless, he lingered awhile, and listened to the long harangue of that "old man eloquent," who soon wandered, according to his wont, into a long story of his youthful prowess, when he lived as the sole survivor of twelve sons in the house of his father Neleus. "But why," he asked, when that theme was exhausted--"why should Achilles inquire about one wounded Greek? He knows not the extent of our mischances, nor how much cause we have to mourn. Diomede, the valiant son of Tydeus, is stricken with an arrow, Agamemnon also is wounded, and likewise Odysseus. Will Achilles now be satisfied, or is he waiting until our ships are consumed with fire, and all of us put to the sword? Would that this arm of mine were as of yore, when I was the bulwark of my father's house, and of all my people. But Achilles puts forth his might and his valour only for his own honour and glory, and cares not though his country perish. Canst thou do nothing with him? Remember the charge which Menœtius, thy father, gave thee, when we were sojourning, I and Odysseus, in the house of Peleus. We came thither to summon thee and Achilles to the war, and ye were both fain to go. And these were the parting words of Menœtius to thee: "My son, Achilles, is far mightier than thou, but thou art the elder, and it is for thee to guide him, and counsel him for his good. Be wise, and be kind, and he will obey thee."

"Ah! take those words to heart, and reason with that wilful youth. If he is obeying some oracle from Zeus, which forbids him to go into battle, at least let him send thee to lead the Myrmidons in his stead, and let him lend thee his armour, that the Trojans may be affrighted when they see thee, thinking that Achilles has arisen. Thus, at least, we shall get a little respite, and gain time to breathe."

Pondering deeply on the last words of Nestor, which were to prove so fatal to himself, Patroclus hastened back on the way to his own quarters. But he was to be delayed a second time: for as he was passing the tent of Odysseus he met Eurypylus, one of the bravest of the Greeks, who came limping towards him, being wounded in the thigh by an arrow. He was a pitiful sight, begrimed with dust and sweat, and bleeding copiously from his wound. And Patroclus groaned in spirit when he saw him, for he was cut to the heart to find so many of his comrades disabled. "Woe is me!" he said, with a glance of pity, "to see thee thus. But tell me, how goes the day?"

"We can keep the field no longer," answered Eurypylus. "The Greeks must retire behind their barriers. But thou seest how grievously I am hurt; take me with thee to thy tent, and cut the arrow out of my thigh, and when thou hast washed my wound with warm water, lay thereon some of the powerful simples which Achilles received from the wise centaur, Chiron. For of the two leeches of the army one, Machaon, is in need of a physician himself, and Podalirius, the other, is fighting in the front."

"I am in haste," said Patroclus, "howbeit, I will not leave thee in this state"; and, supporting the wounded man in his arms, he guided him slowly to his tent, and seating him on a couch of bulls' hides played the part of physician with such skill and success that the blood was stanched, and the sharp pain allayed.

The Attack on the Grecian Camp

The Greeks were now driven back upon their defences, and a furious struggle ensued for the possession of the walls. The battle was no longer a succession of duels, such as we have witnessed hitherto, but a desperate contest for life and death, in which high and low, nobles and commons, had to take their share. As before, Hector took the lead, and tried to force his way across the moat, and up the steep slope on the other side, which was topped by a wall of stone, and a stiff fence of palisades. Again and again he rushed at the yawning moat in his car, but each time his horses refused the leap, and stood neighing and trembling, with their hoofs planted at the brink.

At last, perceiving that he was wasting his strength to no purpose, he changed his method of attack, and leaving his car in charge of a squire prepared to lead the assault on foot. Some time was lost while he was collecting a picked body of men to follow him, and instructing them how to proceed; and while he was taking his measures, Asius, a captain of the allies, made a bold attempt to carry the Greek position at a single blow. Disregarding Hector's orders, he remained in his chariot, called to his troop to keep close behind him, and drove rapidly round the line of the wall, looking for a weak point where he might hope to force an entrance. He succeeded beyond his hopes; for on the extreme left of the camp he found a gate which was still open to admit any stragglers who might have been left behind in the flight of the Greeks. With a shout of triumph he drove straight at the open gateway, with all his company following pell-mell. But just as he was about to cross the portals he found himself confronted by a pair of gigantic brothers, who stood like two mighty oaks deep-rooted on a mountain top, ready to dispute the way. They were well supported by the defenders who lined the walls, and a hail of stones and javelins rattled down on the shields of Asius and his men, who were driven back with loss and compelled to retire out of range. The gates were then closed and barred, and for this time the camp was saved.

Meanwhile the Trojans under Hector's command were still hesitating on the brink of the moat. For a strange portent had occurred, which gave them pause, just as they were rushing to the assault. On the left hand of the army they saw an eagle soaring high in the air, holding a huge serpent in his talons, which writhed and struggled to escape. And indeed the eagle had met his match, for suddenly the serpent drew back his head, and darting forward bit his captor in the breast. The eagle gave a scream of pain, and dropping the serpent, which fell in the midst of the Trojans, flew swiftly away.

The Attack on the Grecian Camp

All stood amazed, and doubt and fear crept into their hearts when they saw the monster writhing at their feet. At last Polydamas, a warrior who was famed for his skill in augury, turned to Hector, and said: "My prince, the sign is against us; and as the eagle was stricken, when he strove to carry the dappled snake to his young, so shall we also be stricken, if we persist in our assault on the Grecian stronghold. Let us draw off our men, lest we be found fighting against the gods, and bring upon ourselves rout and disaster."

"Polydamas," answered Hector, with bended brows, "if thou hast no better counsel than this thou hadst better hold thy peace, for the gods have marred thy wit. Vain man! knowest thou not that we came hither under a sure promise from Zeus? Are we to obey his voice, or shall we be cowed by the flapping of a wing? What care I for any fowl that flies east or west, while I stand under the favour of heaven's high lord? To the patriot all omens are good, when his country summons him to her defence. A truce to thine idle prate! Thou hast naught to fear, whether we fight or fly, for thou art never seen on the perilous edge of battle. But keep thy cold counsels for thine own coward heart, or I will find means to lock thy lips for ever."

Thereupon he sprang forward towards the wall, and all his men followed, raising a deafening shout. And from the glens of Ida there came a rushing mighty wind, which bore a blinding cloud of dust into the faces of the Greeks, and hindered them in the work of defence. The Trojans had now crossed the moat, and were striving with all their force to break down the wall. Some tugged at the battlements, and tried to pull them down, while others brought levers to overthrow the projecting buttresses. On the other side the Greeks fought stubbornly, making a fence with their shields along the line of the wall, and keeping up a shower of javelins and stones.

Foremost in the defence were the greater and lesser Ajax, who hurried up and down the battlements, encouraging, rebuking, and threatening. "Stand fast!" they cried. "This is no time for flinching. Let every man do his part, whether he be weak or strong. Your lives are in your own hands."

As on a winter day, when Zeus has lulled the winds to sleep, and all the air is thick with flying snowflakes, until mountain top and jutting promontory, green field and black ploughland, level shore and rocky bay, are all hidden under the same dazzling mantle, whose fringe touches the cold, grey sea--so thick flew the missiles on either side, rattling down uninterruptedly on battlement and helmet and shield.

Conspicuous among the allies of the Trojans were Glaucus and Sarpedon, the leaders of the Lycians. They were bosom friends, of one heart and one mind; and the night before they had discoursed earnestly together on the duties and privileges of their rank. The words of Sarpedon on this occasion are ever memorable. "I need not tell thee, Glaucus," he said, "why we twain are honoured above all the rest with the highest seats, the costliest fare, and cups ever full, and why a fair domain of corn-land and olive ground and vineyard was set apart for us on the banks of Xanthus. As we have received freely, so freely must we give, sparing not even our heart's blood in the service of those to whom we owe all we have. Let us be no sluggard kings, first in the feast and last in the fray, but, as we are foremost in privilege, so let us be foremost in peril. Man walketh as a vain shadow, and all his steps are encompassed by death; die he must, ere many days are passed--herein he hath no choice--but, unless he hath the soul of a slave, he will choose death with honour."

Acting in the spirit of these noble words, Sarpedon, with Glaucus at his side, and all the chivalry of Lycia at his back, now made a determined attack on the part of the wall where Menestheus, the captain of the Athenians, was directing the defence. Menestheus, feeling that he was ill provided to sustain the onset of these two famous captains, raised his voice to summon Ajax to his succour; but his cry was drowned by the tremendous din of the battle which was raging around him, and the thundering blows which the Trojans were now raining upon the gates. So he sent an urgent message by a herald, begging Ajax to come to his relief. Ajax responded promptly to the call, and joined the men under Menestheus, bringing with him Teucer, his half-brother, who was now sufficiently recovered from his wound to take part in the defence.

On came the storming party, with Sarpedon at their head, and they were already beginning to swarm up the battlements, when the arrival of Teucer and Ajax gave them a check. Lifting up a ponderous stone, which he found lying loose by the wall, Ajax dashed out the brains of a stout Lycian, whose knee was already on the rampart, and down he toppled, plunging headforemost, like a diver, into the moat; and at the same moment a lucky shot from Teucer's bow struck Glaucus in the arm. Incensed to see his comrade wounded, Sarpedon redoubled his efforts, and grasping one of the battlements with both hands he wrenched it from its place, and sent it crashing to the ground. But, being fiercely attacked by Ajax and Teucer together, he was compelled to draw back a little, and wait for support. "On, Lycians!" he shouted. "Why loiter ye behind? I cannot win the wall alone."

The Lycians rallied to the voice of their prince, and the battle was renewed with fresh fury on both sides. Up the steep bank they swarmed again, and strove with all their might to drive back the defenders from their battlements. But the Greeks would not yield an inch, and besiegers and besieged held their ground stubbornly in that grim controversy, like two farmers who stand, with measuring-lines in their hands, disputing hotly about a few inches of ground, on the boundaries of their fields--or like an honest labouring woman, who holds the scale in even balance, weighing the wool which she has spun to win a scanty wage wherewith to buy her children bread.[1] So in even balance hung the fray, and many were the wounds given and received in back or in breast, until the battlements ran with blood.

[1] The yarn is weighed to show that none of the raw wool has been stolen.

But the chief honour of the day was reserved for Hector, who was the first to set foot within the fortress of the Greeks. While the battle was still raging on the wall, he made his way to the main entrance of the camp, which was defended by stout oaken gates, fast closed with massy bolt and bar. In front of the gates lay a huge stone, such as two men could hardly lift in these less heroic days. Lifting the mighty boulder, he carried it, easily as a shepherd carries a fleece, close up to the gates. Then, planting his feet firmly, he heaved that ponderous mass above his head, and flung. Like a thunderbolt flew the enormous missile, dashing through panel and bolt and bar. The gates, torn from their hinges, fell inward, and over the ruins sprang Hector, with brow black as night, and death in his glance. Terribly gleamed his brazen armour as he leapt upon the foe, with a lance in each hand. None save the gods could have dared to face him in that hour of triumph and victory. The Trojans poured in behind him, or leapt down from the wall, now deserted by the panic-stricken Greeks, who fled with one accord to the shelter of their ships.

Poseidon aids the Greeks

The promise which Zeus had made to Thetis seemed now on the point of being fulfilled, and accordingly Zeus, by whose direct interference alone the Trojans had been able to work such havoc among the Greeks, relaxed his attention, and left the rival armies to fight out the issue between them, never dreaming that any of the gods would venture to act against his express command.

But Poseidon, his brother, and second only to Zeus himself in power, was a staunch ally of the Greeks, and was bitterly indignant that they should suffer defeat at the hands of the hated and despised Trojans. As long as the eye of Zeus was on the battlefield he dared not interfere; but as soon as he saw his great brother engaged elsewhere he left his seat on the island of Samothrace, where he had been overlooking the battle, and sped on his way to Ægæ, his sacred city on the shores of the Gulf of Corinth. The mountains bowed their heads, and the trees vailed[1] their high tops, beneath the immortal feet of Poseidon, the King. In three steps he reached his goal, and entered his shining, golden palace, built in the cool depths of that glassy bay. There he bade harness his brazen-footed steeds, and mounting the car drove it across the waters. The charmed billows parted to make him a path, and round him played the dolphins, and other huge children of the deep, as his wheels passed unwetted over that heaving, liquid floor. So on they bounded, until they reached the shores of Troy.

[1] "_Vailing_ [stooping] her high top lower than her ribs."--Shakespeare: _Merchant of Venice_.

The Greeks were still flying before the victorious Trojans, who pressed them hard, with furious uproar, when suddenly there appeared among them one like unto Calchas, the prophet, in form and in voice. "Take heart, comrades!" said he, addressing himself to Ajax, who, with his namesake, was still heading the defence; "we shall beat them yet, if only we can quench the fury of that madman, Hector, who bears himself like a son of Zeus. Have at them, and thrust them back from the ships!"

His words were common, but they were uttered by a god, and breathed a mysterious influence, which was aided by a light touch from the staff which he bore. Instantly a strange lightness and vigour entered into their limbs, and when the pretended Calchas vanished as abruptly as he came, they knew that the words which they had heard were spoken by no mortal lips.

Without pausing for a moment, Poseidon continued the work which he had begun. From rank to rank, from leader to leader, he flew, inspiring, encouraging, entreating; and wherever he passed a new fire was kindled in every breast, so that they who but a moment before had given up all for lost now thought with shame of their faintheartedness, and rallied to the call of their leaders, resolved to conquer or die.

Where Ajax and his namesake fought were mustered the choicest troops in the Greek army. Shoulder to shoulder, and knee to knee, they stood, making a firm fence with shield overlapping shield, and bristling with a forest of spears. "Stand fast!" shouted Ajax, as Hector came on with headlong rush, like some huge rock, which hangs threatening on a steep mountain-side, until it is undermined by a winter torrent, and thunders down the slope until it has spent its force and lies motionless on the plain. So Hector hurled himself with fury against the solid phalanx of the Greeks, but spent his fury in vain on that hedge of iron, and could not break through it, for all his rage.

Idomeneus, the leader of the Cretans, had been absent some time from the battle, attending to a wounded comrade, and when he left him he went to his tent, to replace part of his armour, which had been damaged in the fight. On reaching his quarters he was met by Meriones, his second in command, who had gone to fetch a fresh spear, having broken his own on a Trojan shield. "What doest thou here, Meriones?" he asked. "Art thou wounded, or bringest thou some message to me?"

"I came to fetch a spear," answered Meriones; "my own was broken in the fight." "Spears there are in plenty in my tent," said Idomeneus, "and helmets, and shields, and burnished corslets--the spoils of many a vanquished Trojan." "And in mine too there is no lack of such," replied Meriones. "But thy tent was nearer. Thou knowest best whether I do my devoir on the field of honour or not."

"I have seen thee prove thy manly worth," said Idomeneus. "Thou needst not remind me. I have noted thy bearing in the long cold hours of the night, when thou wast one of a picked company lying in ambush, and waiting for the dawn. This is the sternest, sharpest test of valour and endurance. Mark then the coward, how he flushes, and then pales, shifting uneasily from one foot to another, as he cowers in his place, with chattering teeth and wildly beating heart, and mark the hero, crouched, like a good hound, motionless and silent, ready to spring at his enemy's throat. None ever passed through that sharp ordeal with more honour than thou. And in open battle thy face is ever to the foe, and thy scars are all in front. But enough of this: here stand we bragging of our prowess, while our comrades are encompassed by the flames of war. Let us away, and show our manhood by deeds, not words."

Like murderous Ares when he arms him for battle in the savage land of Thrace, and by his side goes Terror, his son, whose fierce eyes appal the stoutest heart, so rushed Idomeneus back to the field, with Meriones, his trusty friend. "Let us make for the left of the fighting line," cried Idomeneus. "On the right the Trojans are weaker, and in the centre fights Telamonian Ajax, a pillar of strength, the equal of Achilles in all save speed of foot. On the left the need is sorest, with most room for a leader of note."

As on a wild and gusty day, when two clouds of dust are whirled together by conflicting winds, so met the Greek and Trojan columns, with clash of shield and glitter of spear, when Idomeneus and his comrade returned to the field. Not in vain had Idomeneus boasted of his deeds of war. Many a Trojan went down that day before his spear; and the first of them was Othryoneus, who was lately come to Troy, and was a suitor for the hand of Cassandra, the fairest of Priam's daughters. Great was the price which he had promised to pay for his bride. "Give me thy daughter," he said, "and I will drive these Greeks out of the land." But the lance of Idomeneus cut short his wooing, and down he fell with a sounding crash. "Is it thou, gallant bridegroom?" shouted Idomeneus, as his helmet fell off, exposing his face. "How wilt thou keep thy bargain with Priam now? That wager is lost, but come with me, and we will find thee a fair partner yet. Thou shalt have the fairest of Agamemnon's daughters, if thou wilt aid us to sack the stately city of Troy. How likest thou the terms?"

Thus insulting his fallen foe, Idomeneus began to drag him away by the foot, intending to spoil him of his armour. While thus employed, he was confronted by Asius, who came on foot against him, his squire following close with the chariot, so that he felt the hot breath of the horses on his shoulders. But Idomeneus was too quick for him, and pierced him, as he stood with weapon poised, in the throat, driving the point clean through his neck. Like an oak, or poplar, or tall pine, hewn down on a mountainside to make a ship's timber, so fell that proud champion, and lay in his blood at his horse's feet, moaning and clutching at the dust. The charioteer was dumfoundered by his master's fall, and dropped the reins in his terror; and while he stood thus, with staring eyes and gaping mouth, Antilochus thrust him through with his spear, and leaping into the car drove off with his prize.

Idomeneus was now fiercely assailed by a formidable antagonist, in the person of Deiphobus, a brother of Hector, and one of the bravest of the Trojans. Idomeneus crouched low as he saw him coming with brandished spear; and the weapon passed over him, just grazing the rim of his shield, but found a victim in another Greek, who was advancing to his support, and received the point in his breast. Down he went, and Deiphobus cried exultingly: "Not unavenged falls Asius, but I have given him a companion on his journey to the shades."

Thus saved from his peril, the stout old Cretan glared about him, looking for another mark for his spear; and he found one in the young Alcathous, who was married to a daughter of Anchises, and was thus closely related to Æneas. The youthful prince, being new to the work of war, was bewildered by the roar and tumult of the struggle which was raging around him, and stood, overpowered by sudden panic, within close range of the Cretan captain's lance. "Sleepest thou, pretty lad!" shouted the grim veteran, "I will wake thee from thy slumber." And he clove him through the breast with his spear, which stilled the last beatings of his heart.

"Three Trojans for one Greek!" shouted Idomeneus. "Art thou content, Deiphobus? Come hither, and I will add a fourth. It will be glory enough for thee to die by the hand of Idomeneus, whose grandsire was Minos, the very son of Zeus."

Deiphobus deemed it prudent to decline the challenge, and he went in search of Æneas, to inform him of his kinsman's fall. Æneas was loitering in the rear, for he had a grudge against Priam, which chilled his ardour for the battle. But when he heard that Alcathous was slain his heart burned to avenge him, and he hurried to the front, where he was joined by Paris and a strong band of Trojans. Idomeneus, on his part, was reinforced by the arrival of Meriones, Antilochus, and Ascalaphus, a son of Ares, with their followers; and so the fight raged on, and many a stout warrior went down to swell the muster-roll of death.

There fought Helenus, the prophetic son of Priam, armed with bow and arrows, and wielding a mighty falchion, tempered in a Thracian forge. With one blow of that trenchant blade he shattered the helmet of a Greek warrior, a friend of Menelaus, and laid him at his feet, stunned and bleeding. Menelaus sprang to his friend's relief, and flung his spear at Helenus; and at the same moment Helenus shot an arrow, which struck the prince on the breastplate, but rebounded as beans or pulse rebound from the winnower's shovel, while the spear of Menelaus pierced him through the left hand, pinning it to the bow. Helenus retired, trailing the spear after him, until a comrade drew it out, and bound up the wounded hand with a woollen sling, which he took from his squire.

Menelaus was now attacked by another Trojan chieftain, who, after making an abortive thrust with his spear, took in his hand an axe, which hung inside his shield, and, swinging the weapon over his head by its long shaft of olive-wood, leapt upon him with a fierce cry. But before the blow could descend he received a fearful wound in the forehead, from the sword of the Spartan king, and fell backwards in the dust. "So may all the Trojans perish!" cried Menelaus, setting his foot on the breast of his prostrate foe. "Ye have robbed me of my wife; ye have plundered my treasure, after receiving generous welcome under my roof. And now ye come hither to burn our fleet, and butcher us in our camp. Great sire of heaven, men praise thy righteousness, and call thee wise above all gods and men: how then canst thou lend thy countenance to these bloodthirsty robbers, whose pastime is murder, whose joy is to betray?"

Carried away by his eloquence, Menelaus failed to observe that he was threatened by a new assailant. This was Harpalion, son of the King of Paphlagonia, who charged at him, lance in hand. Menelaus was just in time to receive the blow on his shield, and before Harpalion could recover his weapon he was transfixed by the spear of Meriones, and lay writhing like a worm on the ground, until he was borne, groaning, from the field by his attendants, followed by his weeping father.

Paris was wroth at the fall of the Paphlagonian prince, who was his friend and guest, and he drew his bow at a venture, and slew Euchenor, the son of a famous seer, who dwelt in Corinth. Often his father had prophesied to him that he was destined to die either by a wasting disease, or on the battlefield at Troy. He chose a warrior's death, and found it on that day, by the hand of Paris.

III

In the other part of the camp, near the main gate, where Hector had first effected an entrance, the Greeks were still fighting with indomitable spirit under Telamonian Ajax, and his namesake, the son of Oileus. These two held together, and battled side by side, like two stout oxen yoked to the same plough, and toiling from dawn till sunset, while the sweat streams without ceasing from the roots of their horns: so stood they side by side, and bore the brunt, all through that long and bitter fray. And behind them were arrayed the bowmen and slingers of Locris, whose captain was the lesser Ajax, and kept up such a shower of arrows and leaden bullets that the Trojans at length began to waver, and broke their ranks.

When Polydamas, the wisest head among the Trojans, saw that the great assault, which had begun so boldly, was beginning to flag, he called Hector aside, and said to him: "Hector, thou art strong of hand, but weak of head. Seest thou not that we are wasting our valour, by fighting thus in scattered parties, with no settled plan of attack? Now, hearken to me, and do as I shall say, if thou wouldst not have us driven back in shameful rout upon the town. Gather all our parties into one strong phalanx, and charge with them all at once on one point in the Grecian line. Thus, and thus only, may we hope to prevail, outnumbered as we are by two to one."

Hector saw that the advice was good, and, leaving Polydamas to hold the Greeks in check, he went in search of Asius, Deiphobus, and the rest, who were fighting on the left. Sore were the gaps which now appeared in that gallant company, and many a hero, whom he called by name, was lying cold in death. Gathering such as remained, he formed them into one body with those whom he had left in the charge of Deiphobus, and with the powerful column thus formed made repeated charges, which were sustained with undaunted firmness by Ajax and his men.

Zeus is beguiled by Hera

While the battle swayed to and fro, and the Greeks were enabled by Poseidon's aid to hold their own against the Trojans, Zeus was sitting on a lonely peak of Ida, wrapped in a high celestial reverie. Hera saw the uxorious king from her place of outlook on Olympus, and, noting his abstracted mood, she resolved to play him a trick. So she went to her chamber, which her son Hephæstus had made for her, and opened the door with a private key, which she always kept by her, so that none might invade her apartment in her absence. Having locked herself in, she began to make her toilet with peculiar care. First, she washed her person with ambrosia, and anointed herself with a fragrant oil, so rich and rare that, when she lifted the lid of the casket in which it was stored, a divine perfume filled earth and heaven with sweetness. Then she dressed her lustrous hair, and put on a wondrous robe, which Athene's own hands had wrought for her, clasping it to her bosom with golden brooches. A rich girdle confined her robe at the waist, and in her ears she hung earrings of costly pearl; and when she had put on her sandals, and thrown a glittering veil over her head, she went forth smiling in triumphant beauty, like a bride adorned for her husband.

Having thus prepared the whole battery of her charms, she went in search of Aphrodite, and when she had found her she drew her apart from the other gods, and said: "Wilt thou grant me a boon, dear child, or wilt thou deny me in anger, because I favour thine enemies, the Greeks?" "Name thy request, great queen of heaven," answered Aphrodite, "and I will grant it, if I can."

Concealing her real purpose, the cunning Hera replied: "I am bound on a journey to the ends of the earth, to visit the ancient deity Oceanus, and Tethys, his wife, who have long been parted by a bitter quarrel. If I can bring them together in love and kindness I shall do a good deed, and repay part of the great debt of gratitude which I owe them. Therefore, lend me, I pray thee, the mighty talisman which thou hast, whereof neither man nor god can resist the powerful spell."

"It becomes me not," answered Aphrodite, "to deny thee in this, for thou art the consort of high Jove." And therewith she took from her bosom an amulet, in which there was a mysterious virtue, able to soften the hardest heart, and turn it to thoughts of love and tenderness. There dwelt persuasion and sweet endearment, the eloquence of silence and the witchery of sighs. "Take it," she said, "and hide it in the folds of thy robe. Armed with this, thou wilt accomplish all thy desire."

Hera smiled her thanks, and taking the amulet sped away on her errand, which carried her, not, as she had pretended, to the distant dwelling of Oceanus, but to Lemnos, the Ægæan isle, the home of sleep. Arrived there, she sought out the drowsy god, and found him nodding in his shadowy cave. "Monarch of men and gods," she began, "Immortal Sleep, thou hast done me good service in the past, and I think thou wilt not fail me now. I would have thee lock fast the eyes of Zeus in slumber deep and long. Ask me not why, but do it, and I will give thee a golden throne, wrought, with a footstool, by Hephæstus, my son, whereon thou mayest sit in state like the Olympian king himself."

"Ask me aught else," answered Sleep, lifting his heavy eyes with a look of fear, "only ask me not to lay Zeus in slumber against his will. Hast thou forgotten what wild work he made when, at thy entreaty, I shed my power upon him, and lulled his wits in a deep trance, that thou mightest wreak thy malice on his favourite, Heracles? Then didst thou raise a storm, which drove Heracles far out of his course, when he was on his voyage from Troy. But when thy lord awoke, and saw what thou hadst done, he fell to buffeting all the gods in Olympus, who had hidden me from his sight. And soon they must have delivered me to his vengeance, and I should have been undone, but an ancient and venerable deity, even Night herself, came to my aid, and besought him to pardon me; and so he did, for he would not offend the august goddess, primeval Night."

"Go to," said Hera. "This is a far smaller thing than that of which thou speakest. All I desire is an hour of respite for mine afflicted Greeks. Come, do as I bid thee, and thou shalt have Pasiphaë, one of the Graces, for thy wife, and so fulfil the dearest of thy desires."

Then Sleep was glad, and answering said: "Swear to me, by the inviolable waters of Styx--placing one hand on the earth, and the other on the sea, that all the nether gods may be our witnesses--swear that thou wilt give me Pasiphaë for my bride."

Hera took the oath required, calling by name all the Titans that dwell in Tartarus. Then together they flew across the sea to Troyland, and paused not till they reached the wooded hills of Ida. Upwards then they soared, over the forest-clad slopes, and there was the sound of a going in the tree tops as they passed. And when they came to the peak where Zeus was sitting, Sleep disguised himself in the form of a swift, and hid himself in the branches of a tall fir-tree. But Hera went and stood in the presence of her lord.

As soon as the god saw her he was struck with wonder at her surpassing beauty, and his heart overflowed with tenderness, as in the old days when first he made her his bride. And the little swift shot down from the tree, and come flitting round the monarch's head. "Dear lady of my love," said he, "sit down by me awhile, and let us hold sweet converse together." So down she sat by his side, and took his hand, and beguiled him with her false blandishments. Like two simple lovers they seemed, caught in sly Cupid's silver net--he the sovereign of earth and heaven, and she, his imperious queen. And swiftly the subtle influence of Sleep came over him, and down he sank overpowered, couched on a soft bed of crocus and hyacinth and violet, which the earth put forth to bear up his sacred person; and on him rested a canopy of golden cloud, that he might slumber unobserved.

Safe now from the observation of Zeus, Hera descended swiftly to bear the news to Poseidon, and urge him to redouble his efforts on behalf of the Greeks. Having brought her message, she returned to Ida, and remained watching by the side of Zeus, ready to give warning when he awoke.

Poseidon was not slow to seize the occasion thus offered. Suddenly, as the Greeks were preparing to receive a furious charge from the enemy, there appeared in their van a gigantic warrior, clad from head to foot in mail of proof, and wielding a sword which flashed and burned with an awful light. "On, Greeks, on!" he shouted; and his voice was as the sound of many waters. "Down with them, even unto the ground, that Hector may know that there is more than one Achilles among us." And the two armies met, with a crash which was echoed by all the caverns of Ida, and recoiled again, each solid phalanx reeling from that tremendous shock.

Into the space thus left sprang Hector, and hurled his spear at Ajax, who was stepping forth to meet him. The weapon struck him on the breast, just at the point where the shield strap, heavily studded with metal, was crossed by the baldric of his sword; and this double barrier, backed by the corslet, proved an effectual defence. Hector fell back, vexed at his ill-fortune, and, as he was retiring, Ajax picked up one of the stones which were lying around, to serve as props for the ships, and flinging it struck him on the back of the neck, just above the rim of his shield. It was no maiden's hand which had aimed that blow, and Hector was sent spinning like a top. And as an oak reels and staggers when struck by the bolt of Zeus, and topples headlong to earth, a blackened and shattered trunk, so fell the mighty Hector, crushed under the weight of his shield, which was pressed down upon him by the ponderous stone.

When they saw him fall, the Greeks rushed forward, hoping to make him their prisoner. But the bravest of the Trojans and their allies--Sarpedon, Æneas, Glaucus, and Polydamas--interposed their shields, giving time for the others to lift him up and carry him to the place where his car and horses were waiting. Carefully they placed his senseless body on the chariot, and drove him towards the city, until they came to the ford of Scamander. There they halted, and, laying him on the bank, dashed water in his face. Presently he looked up, and leaning forward on his hands began to vomit blood. Then darkness came over his eyes, and he fell back again in a swoon.

Now that Hector was down, the Trojans had no course left to them but to retreat. They still fought valiantly, and the Greeks had to pay dear for their success. But slowly and surely they were being driven back from the camp.

The Last Battle by the Ships

Hera was watching the action with such eagerness that she had forgotten her charge, and was startled by the angry voice of Zeus, who had awakened suddenly, and was looking down upon her with lowering brows. "This is thy work," he said sternly, pointing to the Trojan plain, where Hector lay senseless, and his comrades were beginning to fly. "Wilt thou never be schooled to obedience, or what harder lesson lackest thou yet? Dost thou remember the time when I hung thee in chains in the cold vault of ether, with two anvils at thy feet, and all the gods together were powerless to relieve thee? This was thy reward for thy evil devices against my son, Heracles; but that shall be mirth and laughter compared with the rod which thou shall feel if thou cease not from thy mutiny against my sovereign will."

Then Hera was sore afraid, and she answered submissively: "I swear by earth and heaven, and by the down-falling waters of Styx, the greatest and most awful thing by which a god may swear--yea, by thy sacred head I swear it, and by the holy bond which unites us--it was not by my devices that Poseidon first began to aid the Greeks, but he was led thereto by the thoughts of his own heart. And, by my advice, he will give way to thee."

Somewhat appeased by her humility, Zeus replied: "If that be so, and thou art willing to heal the mischief thou hast done, go and send hither Iris and Apollo, that they may receive my commands. And understand me once for all--I will not cease from my rage and my fury against the Greeks, nor suffer any of the gods to aid them, until the vengeance of Pelides is accomplished, and the oath fulfilled which I sware unto his mother, Thetis, when she touched my knees and besought me to honour her son."

Swift as is the glance of the mind when some great traveller revolves all his wanderings in thought, and murmurs to himself: "Would that I were in this place or that!" naming some distant scene which he hath visited, so swiftly flew Hera with her lord's message. When she reached Olympus she found all the gods seated together, drinking their nectar from golden cups. Smiling with her lips, but bending her dark brows in a gloomy frown, she said, as she eyed that festal gathering: "Ye are making good cheer, I see! And ye will be cheered the more when I tell you what Zeus intends. Ay, drink deep!" she continued, turning to Ares, who was just draining a full cup, "thou hast need of comfort, for thy son is slain." And she named a Greek, Ascalaphus, son of Ares, who had been slain by Deiphobus in the battle.

When he heard that, the god of war groaned with grief and anger, and crying: "I will avenge him!" rushed to seize his arms. But Athene hastened after him, and finding him already equipped for battle she snatched the spear from his hand, and took the helmet from his head, saying: "Madman, wilt thou undo us all? Go back to thy place, lest the wrath of Zeus descend upon the whole company of the gods, and on thee the first. Better men have fallen than this son of thine, and we must look to our own safety, and leave mortals to their fate."

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Stories from the IliadChapter IV: The Similes (4)

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