But when the Greeks had seen his face, and who it was that shook
The bristled targe, known by his voice, then all their strength forsook
Their nerves and minds.
The bristled targe, known by his voice, then all their strength forsook
Their nerves and minds.
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
He doth not live that can disjoin my life
And this firm bosom, but my fate; and fate whose wings can fly?
Noble, ignoble, fate controls. Once born, the best must die. "
II. --_Of the Battle by the Ships_
After this, Hector fought with Ajax, and neither had the better. And
after that the Greeks set a rampart and a ditch about their ships.
Also, Agamemnon would have bidden the Greeks depart altogether, but
Diomedes withstood him. And in the fighting that followed, Agamemnon
showed himself the best man among the Greeks, seeing that neither
Achilles nor Diomedes joined the fray; and the Trojans had the better,
driving the Greeks back to the rampart, and bursting through, so that
they were like to have burnt the Greek ships where they lay, led on by
Hector. To and fro swayed the tide of battle; for while Jove slept,
Neptune and Juno gave force and courage to the Greeks, and the Trojans
were borne back; Hector being sore hurt with a stone cast by Ajax. But
Jove, awaking, restored Hector's strength, sending Apollo to him. Then
Apollo and Hector led
The Trojan forces. The Greeks stood. A fervent clamour spread
The air on both sides as they joined. Out flew the shafts and darts,
Some falling short, but other some found butts in breasts and hearts.
As long as Phoebus held but out his horrid shield, so long
The darts flew raging either way, and death grew both ways strong.
But when the Greeks had seen his face, and who it was that shook
The bristled targe, known by his voice, then all their strength forsook
Their nerves and minds. And then look how a goodly herd of neat,
Or wealthy flock of sheep, being close, and dreadless at their meat,
In some black midnight, suddenly, and not a keeper near,
A brace of horrid bears rush in, and then fly here and there.
The poor affrighted flocks or herds, so every way dispersed
The heartless Grecians, so the Sun their headlong chase reversed
To headlong flight, and that day rais'd with all grace Hector's head.
. . . When Hector saw his sister's son lie slaughtered in the sand,
He called to all his friends, and prayed they would not in that strait
Forsake his nephew, but maintain about his corse the fight,
And save it from the spoil of Greece.
The archery of Teucer, brother of Ajax, was dealing destruction among
the Trojans, when Jove broke the bow-string; and thereafter the god
stirred
With such addition of his spirit the spirit Hector bore
To burn the fleet, that of itself was hot enough before.
But now he fared like Mars himself, so brandishing his lance
As through the deep shades of a wood a raging fire should glance,
Held up to all eyes by a hill; about his lips a foam
Stood, as when th' ocean is enraged; his eyes were overcome
With fervour, and resembled flames, set off by his dark brows,
And from his temples his bright helm abhorred lightnings throws.
He, girt in fire borne for the fleet, still rushed at every troop,
And fell upon it like a wave, high raised, that then doth stoop
Out from the clouds, grows as it stoops with storms, then down doth
come And cuff a ship, when all her sides are hid in brackish foam,
Strong gales still raging in her sails, her sailors' minds dismay'd,
Death being but little from their lives; so Jovelike Hector fray'd
And plied the Greeks, who knew not what would chance, for all their
guards. And as the baneful king of beasts, leapt in to oxen herds Fed
in the meadows of a fen exceeding great, the beasts In number infinite,
'mongst whom (their herdsmen wanting breasts To fight with lions for
the price of a black ox's life) He here and there jumps first and last,
in his bloodthirsty strife; Chased and assaulted, and at length down in
the midst goes one, And all the rest 'sperst through the fen; so now
all Greece was gone.
On the Grecian side Ajax
Stalked here and there, and in his hand a huge great bead-hook held,
Twelve cubits long, and full of iron. And then again there grew
A bitter conflict at the fleet. You would have said none drew
A weary breath, nor ever did, they laid so freshly on.
It seemed that even Ajax would be overborne. But Patroclus, the loved
friend of Achilles, saw this destruction coming upon the Greeks, and
he earnestly besought Achilles, if he would not be moved to sally
forth to the rescue himself, to suffer him to go out against the
Trojans, bearing the arms of Achilles and leading his Myrmidons into
the fray.
And this firm bosom, but my fate; and fate whose wings can fly?
Noble, ignoble, fate controls. Once born, the best must die. "
II. --_Of the Battle by the Ships_
After this, Hector fought with Ajax, and neither had the better. And
after that the Greeks set a rampart and a ditch about their ships.
Also, Agamemnon would have bidden the Greeks depart altogether, but
Diomedes withstood him. And in the fighting that followed, Agamemnon
showed himself the best man among the Greeks, seeing that neither
Achilles nor Diomedes joined the fray; and the Trojans had the better,
driving the Greeks back to the rampart, and bursting through, so that
they were like to have burnt the Greek ships where they lay, led on by
Hector. To and fro swayed the tide of battle; for while Jove slept,
Neptune and Juno gave force and courage to the Greeks, and the Trojans
were borne back; Hector being sore hurt with a stone cast by Ajax. But
Jove, awaking, restored Hector's strength, sending Apollo to him. Then
Apollo and Hector led
The Trojan forces. The Greeks stood. A fervent clamour spread
The air on both sides as they joined. Out flew the shafts and darts,
Some falling short, but other some found butts in breasts and hearts.
As long as Phoebus held but out his horrid shield, so long
The darts flew raging either way, and death grew both ways strong.
But when the Greeks had seen his face, and who it was that shook
The bristled targe, known by his voice, then all their strength forsook
Their nerves and minds. And then look how a goodly herd of neat,
Or wealthy flock of sheep, being close, and dreadless at their meat,
In some black midnight, suddenly, and not a keeper near,
A brace of horrid bears rush in, and then fly here and there.
The poor affrighted flocks or herds, so every way dispersed
The heartless Grecians, so the Sun their headlong chase reversed
To headlong flight, and that day rais'd with all grace Hector's head.
. . . When Hector saw his sister's son lie slaughtered in the sand,
He called to all his friends, and prayed they would not in that strait
Forsake his nephew, but maintain about his corse the fight,
And save it from the spoil of Greece.
The archery of Teucer, brother of Ajax, was dealing destruction among
the Trojans, when Jove broke the bow-string; and thereafter the god
stirred
With such addition of his spirit the spirit Hector bore
To burn the fleet, that of itself was hot enough before.
But now he fared like Mars himself, so brandishing his lance
As through the deep shades of a wood a raging fire should glance,
Held up to all eyes by a hill; about his lips a foam
Stood, as when th' ocean is enraged; his eyes were overcome
With fervour, and resembled flames, set off by his dark brows,
And from his temples his bright helm abhorred lightnings throws.
He, girt in fire borne for the fleet, still rushed at every troop,
And fell upon it like a wave, high raised, that then doth stoop
Out from the clouds, grows as it stoops with storms, then down doth
come And cuff a ship, when all her sides are hid in brackish foam,
Strong gales still raging in her sails, her sailors' minds dismay'd,
Death being but little from their lives; so Jovelike Hector fray'd
And plied the Greeks, who knew not what would chance, for all their
guards. And as the baneful king of beasts, leapt in to oxen herds Fed
in the meadows of a fen exceeding great, the beasts In number infinite,
'mongst whom (their herdsmen wanting breasts To fight with lions for
the price of a black ox's life) He here and there jumps first and last,
in his bloodthirsty strife; Chased and assaulted, and at length down in
the midst goes one, And all the rest 'sperst through the fen; so now
all Greece was gone.
On the Grecian side Ajax
Stalked here and there, and in his hand a huge great bead-hook held,
Twelve cubits long, and full of iron. And then again there grew
A bitter conflict at the fleet. You would have said none drew
A weary breath, nor ever did, they laid so freshly on.
It seemed that even Ajax would be overborne. But Patroclus, the loved
friend of Achilles, saw this destruction coming upon the Greeks, and
he earnestly besought Achilles, if he would not be moved to sally
forth to the rescue himself, to suffer him to go out against the
Trojans, bearing the arms of Achilles and leading his Myrmidons into
the fray.
