BOOK THE FOURTH

ARGUMENT.

Paris not being slain, the combat left it doubtful whether Helen should be returned or not; but Juno extorts a promise from Jove of the final destruction of Troy. Minerva then persuades Pandarus to break the truce by aiming an arrow at Menelaus. The wound is, however, cured by Machaon. The Trojans proceed to the battle, while Agamemnon exhorts the chieftains of the Greeks. The fight then commences, Mars and Apollo encouraging the Trojans, Minerva and the other deities the Greeks.

Thus he spoke: but Minerva and Juno murmured with closed lips, for they were sitting near, and were devising evils for the Trojans. Minerva, indeed, was silent, nor said anything, indignant with her father Jove, for dreadful rage possessed her. But Juno could not retain her fury in her breast, but addressed him:

“Most baleful son of Saturn! what a sentence hast thou uttered! How dost thou wish to render my labour vain, and my sweat fruitless, which I have sweated through with toil? For the steeds are tired to me assembling the host, evils to Priam and to his sons. Do so: but all we the other gods do not approve.”

Thus she spoke; nor did the father of gods and men disobey. Instantly he addressed Minerva in winged words:

“Go very quickly to the army, among the Trojans and Greeks, and contrive that the Trojans may first begin to injure the most renowned Greeks, contrary to the league.”

Thus having spoken, he urged on Minerva already inclined; she hastening descended the heights of Olympus; such as the star which the son of wily Saturn sends, a sign either to mariners, or to a wide host of nations, and from it many sparks are emitted. Like unto this Pallas Minerva hastened to the earth, and leaped into the midst [of the army]; and astonishment seized the horse-breaking Trojans and the well-greaved Greeks, looking on. And thus would one say, looking at some other near him:

Thus then did some one of the Greeks and Trojans say; but she like a hero entered the host of the Trojans, the brave warrior Laodocus, son of Antenor, seeking godlike Pandarus, if anywhere she might find him. She found the blameless and valiant son of Lycaon standing, and around him the brave ranks of shielded warriors, who had followed him from the streams of Æsepus; and standing near, she thus to him spoke winged words:

Thus spoke Minerva, and she persuaded his mind for him, unthinking one. Straightway he uncased his well-polished bow, made from [the horn of] a wild, bounding goat, which he indeed surprising once on a time in ambush, as it was coming out of a cavern, struck, aiming at it beneath the breast; but it fell supine on the rock. Its horns had grown sixteen palms from its head; and these the horn-polishing artist, having duly prepared, fitted together, and when he had well smoothed all, added a golden tip. And having bent the bow, he aptly lowered it, having inclined it against the ground; but his excellent companions held their shields before him, lest the martial sons of the Greeks should rise against him, before warlike Menelaus, the chief of the Greeks, was wounded. Then he drew off the cover of his quiver, and took out an arrow, fresh, winged, a cause of gloomy ills. Forthwith he fitted the bitter arrow to the string, and vowed to Lycian-born Apollo, the renowned archer, that he would sacrifice a splendid hecatomb of firstling lambs, having returned home to the city of sacred Zeleia. Having seized them, he drew together the notch [of the arrow] and the ox-hide string; the string, indeed, he brought near to his breast, and the barb to the bow. But after he had bent the great bow into a circle, the bow twanged, the bowstring rang loudly, and the sharp-pointed shaft bounded forth, impatient to wing its flight through the host.

But him fair-haired Menelaus accosted, cheering him: “Have courage, nor in anywise frighten the people of the Achæans. The sharp arrow has not stuck in a vital part, but before [it reached a vital part], the variegated belt, and the girdle beneath, and the plate which brass-working men forged, warded it off.”

King Agamemnon answering him replied: “Would that it were so, O beloved Menelaus; but the physician shall probe the wound, and apply remedies, which may ease thee of thy acute pains.”

He spoke; and thus accosted Talthybius, the divine herald: “Talthybius, summon hither with all speed the hero Machaon, son of the blameless physician Æsculapius, that he may see martial Menelaus, the chief of the Greeks, whom some skilful archer of the Trojans, or of the Lycians, has wounded with a shaft; a glory, indeed, to him, but a grief to us.”

He spoke; nor did the herald disobey when he had heard. But he proceeded to go through the forces of the brazen-mailed Greeks, looking around for the hero Machaon: him he saw standing, and round him the brave ranks of the shield-bearing hosts, who followed him from steed-nourishing Tricca. Standing near, he spoke winged words:

“Come, O son of Æsculapius, Agamemnon, king of men, calls thee, that thou mayest see martial Menelaus, the son of Atreus, whom some skilful archer of the Trojans or of the Lycians has wounded with a dart; a glory indeed to him, but a grief to us.”

Whilst they were thus occupied around warlike Menelaus, meantime the ranks of the shielded Trojans advanced; and these again put on their arms, and were mindful of battle. Then would you not see divine Agamemnon slumbering, nor trembling nor refusing to fight; but hastening quickly to the glorious fight. He left his steeds, indeed, and his brass-variegated chariot; and these his servant Eurymedon, son of Ptolymæus, the son of Piräis, held apart panting. Him he strictly enjoined to keep them near him, against the time when weariness should seize his limbs, commanding over many. But he on foot traversed the ranks of the heroes, and whichever of the swift-horsed Greeks he saw hastening, them standing beside, he encouraged with words:

“Argives! remit nought of your fierce ardour, for father Jove will not be an abettor to falsehoods, but certainly vultures will devour the tender bodies of those very persons, who first offered injury, contrary to the league; and we, after we shall have taken the city, will carry off in our ships their dear wives, and their infant children.”

But whomsoever on the other hand he saw declining hateful battle, them he much rebuked with angry words:

Thus he, acting as commander, kept going through the ranks of heroes, and he came to the Cretans, going through the throng of men. But they were armed around warlike Idomeneus. Idomeneus, on his part, [commanded] in the van, like a boar in strength; but Meriones urged on the hindmost phalanxes for him. Seeing these, Agamemnon, the king of men, rejoiced, and instantly accosted Idomeneus, in bland words:

But him Idomeneus, the leader of the Cretans, in turn answered: “Son of Atreus, a very congenial ally will I be to thee, as first I promised and assented. But exhort the other crested Greeks that we may fight with all haste, since the Trojans have confounded the league: death and griefs shall be theirs hereafter, since they first offered injury, contrary to the league.”

“Ye Ajaces, leaders of the brazen-mailed Argives, ye two, indeed, for it becomes me not, I in no respect desire to incite; for ye yourselves mightily instigate the people to fight valiantly. Would that, O father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, such courage were in the breasts of all; soon then would the city of king Priam bend to its fall, taken and destroyed by our hands.”

Thus the old man, long since well skilled in wars, exhorted them, and king Agamemnon rejoiced when he saw him; and accosting him, spoke winged words:

“O old man, would that thy knees could so follow thee, and thy strength were firm as is the courage in thy breast. But old age, common alike to all, wearies thee. Would that some other man had thy age, and that thou wert amongst the more youthful.”

Him then the Gerenian knight Nestor answered: “Son of Atreus, I myself would much wish to be so, as when I killed Eruthalion. But the gods never give all things at the same time to men. If I were a young man then, now in turn old age invades me. Yet even so, I will be with the horse, and will exhort them with counsel and words: for this is the office of old men. But let the youths, who are younger than I am, and confide in their strength, brandish their spears.”

Thus he spoke; and the son of Atreus passed him by, rejoicing at heart. Next he found the horseman Menestheus, son of Peteus, standing, and around him the Athenians skilled in the war-shout: but crafty Ulysses stood near; and round him stood the ranks of the Cephallenians not feeble; for not yet had the troops of these heard the shout, since lately the roused phalanxes of the horse-subduing Trojans and of the Greeks moved along; but they stood waiting till another division of the Greeks, coming on, should charge the Trojans and begin the battle. Having seen these, therefore, Agamemnon, the king of men, reproved them, and, accosting them, spoke winged words:

“O son of Peteus, Jove-nurtured king, and thou, accomplished in evil wiles, crafty-minded [Ulysses], why trembling do ye refrain from battle, and wait for others? It became you, indeed, being amongst the first, to stand and meet the ardent battle. For ye are the first invited by me to the feast when we Greeks prepare a banquet for the chiefs. Then it is pleasant to you to eat the roasted meats, and to quaff cups of sweet wine, as long as ye please. But now would ye in preference be spectators, though ten divisions of the Greeks should fight in your presence with the ruthless brass.”

But him sternly regarding, crafty Ulysses answered thus: “Son of Atreus, what a word has escaped the barrier of thy teeth! How canst thou say that we are remiss in fighting? Whenever we Greeks stir up fierce conflict against the horse-taming Trojans, thou shalt see, if thou desirest, and if these things are a care to thee, the beloved father of Telemachus mingled with the foremost of the horse-taming Trojans. But thou sayest these things rashly.”

But him king Agamemnon, when he perceived that he was angry, smiling, addressed, and he retracted his words:

“Noble son of Laertes, much-contriving Ulysses, I neither chide thee in terms above measure, nor exhort thee. For I am aware that thy mind in thy breast kens friendly counsels: for thou thinkest the same that I do. But come, we shall settle these disputes at a future time, should anything evil have now been uttered. But may the gods render all these things vain.”

Thus he spoke; but brave Diomede answered nothing, reverencing the rebuke of the venerable king.

But him the son of renowned Capaneus answered: “Son of Atreus, lie not, knowing how to tell truth. We, indeed, boast to be far better than our fathers. We too have taken the citadel of seven-gated Thebes, leading fewer troops under the wall sacred to Mars, confiding in the portents of the gods, and in the aid of Jove: but they perished through their own infatuation. Wherefore, never place my ancestors in the same rank with me.”

He spoke, and from his chariot leaped with his arms upon the earth, and dreadfully sounded the brass on the breast of the prince, as he moved rapidly along: then truly would fear have seized even a brave spirit.

But they, when now meeting, they had reached the same place, at once joined their ox-hide shields, and their spears, and the might of brazen-mailed warriors; and the bossy shields met one another, and much battle-din arose. There at the same time were heard both the groans and shouts of men slaying and being slain; and the earth flowed with blood. As when wintry torrents flowing down from the mountains, mix in a basin the impetuous water from their great springs in a hollow ravine, and the shepherd in the mountains hears the distant roar—so arose the shouting and panic of them, mixed together.

“Arouse ye, ye horse-breaking Trojans, nor yield the battle to the Greeks; since their flesh is not of stone, nor of iron, that when they are struck, it should withstand the flesh-rending brass; neither does Achilles, the son of fair-haired Thetis, fight, but at the ships he nourishes his vexatious spleen.”

Thus spoke the dreadful god from the city. But most glorious Tritonian Pallas, the daughter of Jove, going through the host, roused the Greeks wherever she saw them relaxing.

Then fate ensnared Diores, son of Amarynceus; for he was struck with a jagged hand-stone, at the ankle, on the right leg; but Pirus, son of Imbrasus, who came from Ænos, the leader of the Thracian warriors, struck him. The reckless stone entirely crushed both tendons and bones; supine in the dust he fell, stretching forth both hands to his dear companions, and breathing forth his soul. But Pirus, he who struck him, ran up, and pierced him in the navel with his spear; and thereupon all his entrails poured forth upon the ground, and darkness veiled his eyes.