ἸΛΙΆΣ 14

Νέστορα δ’ οὐκ ἔλαθεν ἰαχὴ πίνοντά περ ἔμπης,
ἀλλ’ Ἀσκληπιάδην ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«φράζεο, δῖε Μαχᾶον ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα·
μείζων δὴ παρὰ νηυσὶ βοὴ θαλερῶν αἰζηῶν.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν νῦν πῖνε καθήμενος αἴθοπα οἶνον,
εἰς ὅ κε θερμὰ λοετρὰ ἐϋπλόκαμος Ἑκαμήδη
θερμήνῃ καὶ λούσῃ ἄπο βρότον αἱματόεντα·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐλθὼν τάχα εἴσομαι ἐς περιωπήν.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν σάκος εἷλε τετυγμένον υἷος ἑοῖο
κείμενον ἐν κλισίῃ Θρασυμήδεος ἱπποδάμοιο
χαλκῷ παμφαῖνον· ὃ δ’ ἔχ’ ἀσπίδα πατρὸς ἑοῖο.
εἵλετο δ’ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἀκαχμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
στῆ δ’ ἐκτὸς κλισίης, τάχα δ’ εἴσιδεν ἔργον ἀεικές,
τοὺς μὲν ὀρινομένους, τοὺς δὲ κλονέοντας ὄπισθε,
Τρῶας ὑπερθύμους· ἐρέριπτο δὲ τεῖχος Ἀχαιῶν.
ὡς δ’ ὅτε πορφύρῃ πέλαγος μέγα κύματι κωφῷ,
ὀσσόμενον λιγέων ἀνέμων λαιψηρὰ κέλευθα
αὔτως, οὐδ’ ἄρα τε προκυλίνδεται οὐδετέρωσε,
πρίν τινα κεκριμένον καταβήμεναι ἐκ Διὸς οὖρον,
ὣς ὃ γέρων ὅρμαινε δαϊζόμενος κατὰ θυμὸν
διχθάδι’, ἢ μεθ’ ὅμιλον ἴοι Δαναῶν ταχυπώλων,

ἦε μετ’ Ἀτρεΐδην Ἀγαμέμνονα ποιμένα λαῶν.
ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι
βῆναι ἐπ’ Ἀτρεΐδην. οἳ δ’ ἀλλήλους ἐνάριζον
μαρνάμενοι· λάκε δέ σφι περὶ χροῒ χαλκὸς ἀτειρὴς
νυσσομένων ξίφεσίν τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισι.
Νέστορι δὲ ξύμβληντο διοτρεφέες βασιλῆες
πὰρ νηῶν ἀνιόντες ὅσοι βεβλήατο χαλκῷ,
Τυδεΐδης Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Ἀγαμέμνων.
πολλὸν γάρ ῥ’ ἀπάνευθε μάχης εἰρύατο νῆες
θῖν’ ἔφ’ ἁλὸς πολιῆς· τὰς γὰρ πρώτας πεδίονδε
εἴρυσαν, αὐτὰρ τεῖχος ἐπὶ πρύμνῃσιν ἔδειμαν.
οὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδ’ εὐρύς περ ἐὼν ἐδυνήσατο πάσας
αἰγιαλὸς νῆας χαδέειν, στείνοντο δὲ λαοί·
τώ ῥα προκρόσσας ἔρυσαν, καὶ πλῆσαν ἁπάσης
ἠϊόνος στόμα μακρόν, ὅσον συνεέργαθον ἄκραι.
τώ ῥ’ οἵ γ’ ὀψείοντες ἀϋτῆς καὶ πολέμοιο
ἔγχει ἐρειδόμενοι κίον ἀθρόοι· ἄχνυτο δέ σφι
θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν. ὃ δὲ ξύμβλητο γεραιός,
Νέστωρ, πτῆξε δὲ θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.
τὸν καὶ φωνήσας προσέφη κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων·
«ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
τίπτε λιπὼν πόλεμον φθισήνορα δεῦρ’ ἀφικάνεις;
δείδω μὴ δή μοι τελέσῃ ἔπος ὄβριμος Ἕκτωρ,
ὥς ποτ’ ἐπηπείλησεν ἐνὶ Τρώεσσ’ ἀγορεύων,
μὴ πρὶν πὰρ νηῶν προτὶ Ἴλιον ἀπονέεσθαι,
πρὶν πυρὶ νῆας ἐνιπρῆσαι, κτεῖναι δὲ καὶ αὐτούς.
κεῖνος τὼς ἀγόρευε· τὰ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
ὢ πόποι, ἦ ῥα καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοὶ
ἐν θυμῷ βάλλονται ἐμοὶ χόλον ὥς περ Ἀχιλλεύς,

οὐδ’ ἐθέλουσι μάχεσθαι ἐπὶ πρυμνῇσι νέεσσι.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«ἦ δὴ ταῦτά γ’ ἑτοῖμα τετεύχαται, οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως
Ζεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης αὐτὸς παρατεκτήναιτο.
τεῖχος μὲν γὰρ δὴ κατερήριπεν, ᾧ ἐπέπιθμεν
ἄῤῥηκτον νηῶν τε καὶ αὐτῶν εἶλαρ ἔσεσθαι·
οἳ δ’ ἐπὶ νηυσὶ θοῇσι μάχην ἀλίαστον ἔχουσι
νωλεμές· οὐδ’ ἂν ἔτι γνοίης μάλα περ σκοπιάζων
ὁπποτέρωθεν Ἀχαιοὶ ὀρινόμενοι κλονέονται,
ὡς ἐπιμὶξ κτείνονται, ἀϋτὴ δ’ οὐρανὸν ἵκει.
ἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθ’ ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα
εἴ τι νόος ῥέξει· πόλεμον δ’ οὐκ ἄμμε κελεύω
δύμεναι· οὐ γάρ πως βεβλημένον ἐστὶ μάχεσθαι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
«Νέστορ, ἐπεὶ δὴ νηυσὶν ἔπι πρυμνῇσι μάχονται,
τεῖχος δ’ οὐκ ἔχραισμε τετυγμένον, οὐδέ τι τάφρος,
ᾗ ἔπι πολλὰ πάθον Δαναοί, ἔλποντο δὲ θυμῷ
ἄῤῥηκτον νηῶν τε καὶ αὐτῶν εἶλαρ ἔσεσθαι·
οὕτω που Διὶ μέλλει ὑπερμενέϊ φίλον εἶναι,
νωνύμνους ἀπολέσθαι ἀπ’ Ἄργεος ἐνθάδ’ Ἀχαιούς.
ᾔδεα μὲν γὰρ ὅτε πρόφρων Δαναοῖσιν ἄμυνεν,
οἶδα δὲ νῦν ὅτε τοὺς μὲν ὁμῶς μακάρεσσι θεοῖσι
κυδάνει, ἡμέτερον δὲ μένος καὶ χεῖρας ἔδησεν.
ἀλλ’ ἄγεθ’ ὡς ἂν ἐγὼν εἴπω πειθώμεθα πάντες.
νῆες ὅσαι πρῶται εἰρύαται ἄγχι θαλάσσης,
ἕλκωμεν, πάσας δὲ ἐρύσσομεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,
ὕψι δ’ ἐπ’ εὐνάων ὁρμίσσομεν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθῃ
νὺξ ἀβρότη, ἢν καὶ τῇ ἀπόσχωνται πολέμοιο
Τρῶες· ἔπειτα δέ κεν ἐρυσαίμεθα νῆας ἁπάσας.
οὐ γάρ τις νέμεσις φυγέειν κακόν, οὐδ’ ἀνὰ νύκτα.

βέλτερον ὃς φεύγων προφύγῃ κακὸν ἠὲ ἁλώῃ.»
Τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«Ἀτρεΐδη, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων·
οὐλόμεν’ αἴθ’ ὤφελλες ἀεικελίου στρατοῦ ἄλλου
σημαίνειν, μὴ δ’ ἄμμιν ἀνασσέμεν, οἷσιν ἄρα Ζεὺς
ἐκ νεότητος ἔδωκε καὶ ἐς γῆρας τολυπεύειν
ἀργαλέους πολέμους, ὄφρα φθιόμεσθα ἕκαστος.
οὕτω δὴ μέμονας Τρώων πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν
καλλείψειν, ἧς εἵνεκ’ ὀϊζύομεν κακὰ πολλά;
σίγα, μή τίς τ’ ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν τοῦτον ἀκούσῃ
μῦθον, ὃν οὔ κεν ἀνήρ γε διὰ στόμα πάμπαν ἄγοιτο
ὅς τις ἐπίσταιτο ᾗσι φρεσὶν ἄρτια βάζειν
σκηπτοῦχός τ’ εἴη, καί οἱ πειθοίατο λαοὶ
τοσσοίδ’ ὅσσοισιν σὺ μετ’ Ἀργείοισιν ἀνάσσεις·
νῦν δέ σευ ὠνοσάμην πάγχυ φρένας, οἷον ἔειπες·
ὃς κέλεαι πολέμοιο συνεσταότος καὶ ἀϋτῆς
νῆας ἐϋσσέλμους ἅλαδ’ ἑλκέμεν, ὄφρ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον
Τρωσὶ μὲν εὐκτὰ γένηται ἐπικρατέουσί περ ἔμπης,
ἡμῖν δ’ αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος ἐπιῤῥέπῃ. οὐ γὰρ Ἀχαιοὶ
σχήσουσιν πόλεμον νηῶν ἅλα δ’ ἑλκομενάων,
ἀλλ’ ἀποπαπτανέουσιν, ἐρωήσουσι δὲ χάρμης.
ἔνθά κε σὴ βουλὴ δηλήσεται ὄρχαμε λαῶν.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
«ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, μάλα πώς με καθίκεο θυμὸν ἐνιπῇ
ἀργαλέῃ· ἀτὰρ οὐ μὲν ἐγὼν ἀέκοντας ἄνωγα
νῆας ἐϋσσέλμους ἅλα δ’ ἑλκέμεν υἷας Ἀχαιῶν.
νῦν δ’ εἴη ὃς τῆσδέ γ’ ἀμείνονα μῆτιν ἐνίσποι
ἢ νέος ἠὲ παλαιός· ἐμοὶ δέ κεν ἀσμένῳ εἴη.»
Τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης·

«ἐγγὺς ἀνήρ· οὐ δηθὰ ματεύσομεν· αἴ κ’ ἐθέλητε
πείθεσθαι, καὶ μή τι κότῳ ἀγάσησθε ἕκαστος
οὕνεκα δὴ γενεῆφι νεώτατός εἰμι μεθ’ ὑμῖν·
πατρὸς δ’ ἐξ ἀγαθοῦ καὶ ἐγὼ γένος εὔχομαι εἶναι
Τυδέος, ὃν Θήβῃσι χυτὴ κατὰ γαῖα καλύπτει.
Πορθεῖ γὰρ τρεῖς παῖδες ἀμύμονες ἐξεγένοντο,
οἴκεον δ’ ἐν Πλευρῶνι καὶ αἰπεινῇ Καλυδῶνι,
Ἄγριος ἠδὲ Μέλας, τρίτατος δ’ ἦν ἱππότα Οἰνεύς,
πατρὸς ἐμοῖο πατήρ· ἀρετῇ δ’ ἦν ἔξοχος αὐτῶν.
ἀλλ’ ὃ μὲν αὐτόθι μεῖνε, πατὴρ δ’ ἐμὸς Ἄργεϊ νάσθη
πλαγχθείς· ὡς γάρ που Ζεὺς ἤθελε καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι.
Ἀδρήστοιο δ’ ἔγημε θυγατρῶν, ναῖε δὲ δῶμα
ἀφνειὸν βιότοιο, ἅλις δέ οἱ ἦσαν ἄρουραι
πυροφόροι, πολλοὶ δὲ φυτῶν ἔσαν ὄρχατοι ἀμφίς,
πολλὰ δέ οἱ πρόβατ’ ἔσκε· κέκαστο δὲ πάντας Ἀχαιοὺς
ἐγχείῃ· τὰ δὲ μέλλετ’ ἀκουέμεν, εἰ ἐτεόν περ.
τὼ οὐκ ἄν με γένος γε κακὸν καὶ ἀνάλκιδα φάντες
μῦθον ἀτιμήσαιτε πεφασμένον ὅν κ’ ἐῢ εἴπω.
δεῦτ’ ἴομεν πόλεμον δὲ καὶ οὐτάμενοί περ ἀνάγκῃ.
ἔνθα δ’ ἔπειτ’ αὐτοὶ μὲν ἐχώμεθα δηϊοτῆτος
ἐκ βελέων, μή πού τις ἐφ’ ἕλκεϊ ἕλκος ἄρηται·
ἄλλους δ’ ὀτρύνοντες ἐνήσομεν, οἳ τὸ πάρος περ
θυμῷ ἦρα φέροντες ἀφεστᾶσ’ οὐδὲ μάχονται.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἳ δ’ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδὲ πίθοντο·
βὰν δ’ ἴμεν, ἦρχε δ’ ἄρά σφιν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων.
Οὐδ’ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχε κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος,
ἀλλὰ μετ’ αὐτοὺς ἦλθε παλαιῷ φωτὶ ἐοικώς,

δεξιτερὴν δ’ ἕλε χεῖρ’ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«Ἀτρεΐδη, νῦν δή που Ἀχιλλῆος ὀλοὸν κῆρ
γηθεῖ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φόνον καὶ φύζαν Ἀχαιῶν
δερκομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ οἱ ἔνι φρένες οὐδ’ ἠβαιαί.
ἀλλ’ ὃ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλοιτο, θεὸς δέ ἑ σιφλώσειε·
σοὶ δ’ οὔ πω μάλα πάγχυ θεοὶ μάκαρες κοτέουσιν,
ἀλλ’ ἔτι που Τρώων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες
εὐρὺ κονίσουσιν πεδίον, σὺ δ’ ἐπόψεαι αὐτὸς
φεύγοντας προτὶ ἄστυ νεῶν ἄπο καὶ κλισιάων.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν μέγ’ ἄϋσεν ἐπεσσύμενος πεδίοιο.
ὅσσόν τ’ ἐννεάχιλοι ἐπίαχον ἢ δεκάχιλοι
ἀνέρες ἐν πολέμῳ ἔριδα ξυνάγοντες Ἄρηος,
τόσσην ἐκ στήθεσφιν ὄπα κρείων ἐνοσίχθων
ἧκεν· Ἀχαιοῖσιν δὲ μέγα σθένος ἔμβαλ’ ἑκάστῳ
καρδίῃ, ἄληκτον πολεμίζειν ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι.
Ἥρη δ’ εἰσεῖδε χρυσόθρονος ὀφθαλμοῖσι
στᾶσ’ ἐξ Οὐλύμποιο ἀπὸ ῥίου· αὐτίκα δ’ ἔγνω
τὸν μὲν ποιπνύοντα μάχην ἀνὰ κυδιάνειραν
αὐτοκασίγνητον καὶ δαέρα, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ·
Ζῆνα δ’ ἐπ’ ἀκροτάτης κορυφῆς πολυπίδακος Ἴδης
ἥμενον εἰσεῖδε, στυγερὸς δέ οἱ ἔπλετο θυμῷ.
μερμήριξε δ’ ἔπειτα βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη
ὅππως ἐξαπάφοιτο Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο·
ἧδε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή,
ἐλθεῖν εἰς Ἴδην εὖ ἐντύνασαν ἓ αὐτήν,
εἴ πως ἱμείραιτο παραδραθέειν φιλότητι
ᾗ χροιῇ, τῷ δ’ ὕπνον ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε
χεύῃ ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἰδὲ φρεσὶ πευκαλίμῃσι.
βῆ δ’ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, τόν οἱ φίλος υἱὸς ἔτευξεν

Ἥφαιστος, πυκινὰς δὲ θύρας σταθμοῖσιν ἐπῆρσε
κληῗδι κρυπτῇ, τὴν δ’ οὐ θεὸς ἄλλος ἀνῷγεν·
ἔνθ’ ἥ γ’ εἰσελθοῦσα θύρας ἐπέθηκε φαεινάς.
ἀμβροσίῃ μὲν πρῶτον ἀπὸ χροὸς ἱμερόεντος
λύματα πάντα κάθηρεν, ἀλείψατο δὲ λίπ’ ἐλαίῳ
ἀμβροσίῳ ἑδανῷ, τό ῥά οἱ τεθυωμένον ἦεν·
τοῦ καὶ κινυμένοιο Διὸς κατὰ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ
ἔμπης ἐς γαῖάν τε καὶ οὐρανὸν ἵκετ’ ἀϋτμή.
τῷ ῥ’ ἥ γε χρόα καλὸν ἀλειψαμένη ἰδὲ χαίτας
πεξαμένη χερσὶ πλοκάμους ἔπλεξε φαεινοὺς
καλοὺς ἀμβροσίους ἐκ κράατος ἀθανάτοιο.
ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρ’ ἀμβρόσιον ἑανὸν ἕσαθ’, ὅν οἱ Ἀθήνη
ἔξυσ’ ἀσκήσασα, τίθει δ’ ἐνὶ δαίδαλα πολλά·
χρυσείῃς δ’ ἐνετῇσι κατὰ στῆθος περονᾶτο.
ζώσατο δὲ ζώνῃ ἑκατὸν θυσάνοις ἀραρυίῃ,
ἐν δ’ ἄρα ἕρματα ἧκεν ἐϋτρήτοισι λοβοῖσι
τρίγληνα μορόεντα· χάρις δ’ ἀπελάμπετο πολλή.
κρηδέμνῳ δ’ ἐφύπερθε καλύψατο δῖα θεάων
καλῷ νηγατέῳ· λευκὸν δ’ ἦν ἠέλιος ὥς·
ποσσὶ δ’ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα περὶ χροῒ θήκατο κόσμον,
βῆ ῥ’ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο, καλεσσαμένη δ’ Ἀφροδίτην
τῶν ἄλλων ἀπάνευθε θεῶν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
«ἦ ῥά νύ μοί τι πίθοιο, φίλον τέκος ὅττί κεν εἴπω,
ἦέ κεν ἀρνήσαιο κοτεσσαμένη τό γε θυμῷ,

οὕνεκ’ ἐγὼ Δαναοῖσι, σὺ δὲ Τρώεσσιν ἀρήγεις;»
Τὴν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη·
«Ἥρη, πρέσβα θεά, θύγατερ μεγάλοιο Κρόνοιο,
αὔδα ὅ τι φρονέεις· τελέσαι δέ με θυμὸς ἄνωγεν,
εἰ δύναμαι τελέσαι γε καὶ εἰ τετελεσμένον ἐστίν.»
Τὴν δὲ δολοφρονέουσα προσηύδα πότνια Ἥρη·
«δὸς νῦν μοι φιλότητα καὶ ἵμερον, ᾧ τε σὺ πάντας
δαμνᾷ ἀθανάτους ἠδὲ θνητοὺς ἀνθρώπους.
εἶμι γὰρ ὀψομένη πολυφόρβου πείρατα γαίης,
Ὠκεανόν τε θεῶν γένεσιν καὶ μητέρα Τηθύν,
οἵ μ’ ἐν σφοῖσι δόμοισιν ἐῢ τρέφον ἠδ’ ἀτίταλλον,
δεξάμενοι Ῥείας, ὅτε τε Κρόνον εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
γαίης νέρθε καθεῖσε καὶ ἀτρυγέτοιο θαλάσσης·
τοὺς εἶμ’ ὀψομένη, καί σφ’ ἄκριτα νείκεα λύσω·
ἤδη γὰρ δηρὸν χρόνον ἀλλήλων ἀπέχονται
εὐνῆς καὶ φιλότητος, ἐπεὶ χόλος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ.
εἰ κείνω ἐπέεσσι παραιπεπιθοῦσα φίλον κῆρ
εἰς εὐνὴν ἀνέσαιμι ὁμωθῆναι φιλότητι,
αἰεί κέ σφι φίλη τε καὶ αἰδοίη καλεοίμην.»
Τὴν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε φιλομειδὴς Ἀφροδίτη·
«οὐκ ἔστ’ οὐδὲ ἔοικε τεὸν ἔπος ἀρνήσασθαι·
Ζηνὸς γὰρ τοῦ ἀρίστου ἐν ἀγκοίνῃσιν ἰαύεις.»
Ἦ, καὶ ἀπὸ στήθεσφιν ἐλύσατο κεστὸν ἱμάντα
ποικίλον, ἔνθα δέ οἱ θελκτήρια πάντα τέτυκτο·
ἔνθ’ ἔνι μὲν φιλότης, ἐν δ’ ἵμερος, ἐν δ’ ὀαριστὺς
πάρφασις, ἥ τ’ ἔκλεψε νόον πύκα περ φρονεόντων.
τόν ῥά οἱ ἔμβαλε χερσὶν ἔπος τ’ ἔφατ’ ἔκ τ’ ὀνόμαζε·
τῆ νῦν τοῦτον ἱμάντα τεῷ ἐγκάτθεο κόλπῳ,
ποικίλον, ᾧ ἔνι πάντα τετεύχαται· οὐδέ σέ φημι

ἄπρηκτόν γε νέεσθαι, ὅ τι φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς.»
Ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη,
μειδήσασα δ’ ἔπειτα ἑῷ ἐγκάτθετο κόλπῳ.
Ἣ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη,
Ἥρη δ’ ἀΐξασα λίπεν ῥίον Οὐλύμποιο,
Πιερίην δ’ ἐπιβᾶσα καὶ Ἠμαθίην ἐρατεινὴν
σεύατ’ ἐφ’ ἱπποπόλων Θρῃκῶν ὄρεα νιφόεντα,
ἀκροτάτας κορυφάς· οὐδὲ χθόνα μάρπτε ποδοῖιν·
ἐξ Ἀθόω δ’ ἐπὶ πόντον ἐβήσετο κυμαίνοντα,
Λῆμνον δ’ εἰσαφίκανε πόλιν θείοιο Θόαντος.
ἔνθ’ Ὕπνῳ ξύμβλητο κασιγνήτῳ Θανάτοιο,
ἔν τ’ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τ’ ἔφατ’ ἔκ τ’ ὀνόμαζεν·
«Ὕπνε, ἄναξ πάντων τε θεῶν πάντων τ’ ἀνθρώπων,
ἠμὲν δή ποτ’ ἐμὸν ἔπος ἔκλυες, ἠδ’ ἔτι καὶ νῦν
πείθευ· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι ἰδέω χάριν ἤματα πάντα.
κοίμησόν μοι Ζηνὸς ὑπ’ ὀφρύσιν ὄσσε φαεινώ,
αὐτίκ’ ἐπεί κεν ἐγὼ παραλέξομαι ἐν φιλότητι.
δῶρα δέ τοι δώσω καλὸν θρόνον ἄφθιτον αἰεί,
χρύσεον· Ἥφαιστος δέ κ’ ἐμὸς πάϊς ἀμφιγυήεις
τεύξει’ ἀσκήσας, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυν ποσὶν ἥσει,
τῷ κεν ἐπισχοίης λιπαροὺς πόδας εἰλαπινάζων.»
Τὴν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε νήδυμος Ὕπνος·
«Ἥρη πρέσβα θεὰ θύγατερ μεγάλοιο Κρόνοιο,
ἄλλον μέν κεν ἔγωγε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων

ῥεῖα κατευνήσαιμι, καὶ ἂν ποταμοῖο ῥέεθρα
Ὠκεανοῦ, ὅς περ γένεσις πάντεσσι τέτυκται·
Ζηνὸς δ’ οὐκ ἂν ἔγωγε Κρονίονος ἆσσον ἱκοίμην,
οὐδὲ κατευνήσαιμ’, ὅτε μὴ αὐτός γε κελεύοι.
ἤδη γάρ με καὶ ἄλλο τεὴ ἐπίνυσσεν ἐφετμή,
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε κεῖνος ὑπέρθυμος Διὸς υἱὸς
ἔπλεεν Ἰλιόθεν Τρώων πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξας.
ἤτοι ἐγὼ μὲν ἔλεξα Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο
νήδυμος ἀμφιχυθείς· σὺ δέ οἱ κακὰ μήσαο θυμῷ,
ὄρσασ’ ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἐπὶ πόντον ἀήτας,
καί μιν ἔπειτα Κόων δ’ εὖ ναιομένην ἀπένεικας,
νόσφι φίλων πάντων. ὁ δ’ ἐπεγρόμενος χαλέπαινε,
ῥιπτάζων κατὰ δῶμα θεούς, ἐμὲ δ’ ἔξοχα πάντων
ζήτει· καί κέ μ’ ἄϊστον ἀπ’ αἰθέρος ἔμβαλε πόντῳ,
εἰ μὴ Νὺξ δμήτειρα θεῶν ἐσάωσε καὶ ἀνδρῶν·
τὴν ἱκόμην φεύγων, ὁ δ’ ἐπαύσατο χωόμενός περ.
ἅζετο γὰρ μὴ Νυκτὶ θοῇ ἀποθύμια ἕρδοι.
νῦν αὖ τοῦτό μ’ ἄνωγας ἀμήχανον ἄλλο τελέσσαι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη·
«Ὕπνε, τίη δὲ σὺ ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς;
ἦ φῂς ὣς Τρώεσσιν ἀρηξέμεν εὐρύοπα Ζῆν
ὡς Ἡρακλῆος περιχώσατο παῖδος ἑοῖο;
ἀλλ’ ἴθ’, ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι Χαρίτων μίαν ὁπλοτεράων
δώσω ὀπυιέμεναι καὶ σὴν κεκλῆσθαι ἄκοιτιν.
[Πασιθέην, ἧς αἰὲν ἱμείρεαι ἤματα πάντα.]»

Ὣς φάτο, χήρατο δ’ Ὕπνος, ἀμειβόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·
«ἄγρει νῦν μοι ὄμοσσον ἀάατον Στυγὸς ὕδωρ,
χειρὶ δὲ τῇ ἑτέρῃ μὲν ἕλε χθόνα πουλυβότειραν,
τῇ δ’ ἑτέρῃ ἅλα μαρμαρέην, ἵνα νῶϊν ἅπαντες
μάρτυροι ὦσ’ οἳ ἔνερθε θεοὶ Κρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντες,
ἦ μὲν ἐμοὶ δώσειν Χαρίτων μίαν ὁπλοτεράων,
Πασιθέην, ἧς τ’ αὐτὸς ἐέλδομαι ἤματα πάντα.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, οὐδ’ ἀπίθησε θεὰ λευκώλενος Ἥρη,
ὄμνυε δ’ ὡς ἐκέλευε, θεοὺς δ’ ὀνόμηνεν ἅπαντας
τοὺς ὑποταρταρίους οἳ Τιτῆνες καλέονται.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ’ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
τὼ βήτην Λήμνου τε καὶ Ἴμβρου ἄστυ λιπόντε
ἠέρα ἑσσαμένω ῥίμφα πρήσσοντε κέλευθον.
Ἴδην δ’ ἱκέσθην πολυπίδακα μητέρα θηρῶν,
Λεκτόν, ὅθι πρῶτον λιπέτην ἅλα· τὼ δ’ ἐπὶ χέρσου
βήτην, ἀκροτάτη δὲ ποδῶν ὕπο σείετο ὕλη.
ἔνθ’ Ὕπνος μὲν ἔμεινε πάρος Διὸς ὄσσε ἰδέσθαι,
εἰς ἐλάτην ἀναβὰς περιμήκετον, ἣ τότ’ ἐν Ἴδῃ
μακροτάτη πεφυυῖα δι’ ἠέρος αἰθέρ’ ἵκανεν·
ἔνθ’ ἧστ’ ὄζοισιν πεπυκασμένος εἰλατίνοισιν,
ὄρνιθι λιγυρῇ ἐναλίγκιος, ἥν τ’ ἐν ὄρεσσι
χαλκίδα κικλήσκουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ κύμινδιν.
Ἥρη δὲ κραιπνῶς προσεβήσετο Γάργαρον ἄκρον
Ἴδης ὑψηλῆς· ἴδε δὲ νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς.
ὡς δ’ ἴδεν, ὥς μιν ἔρως πυκινὰς φρένας ἀμφεκάλυψεν,
οἷον ὅτε πρῶτόν περ ἐμισγέσθην φιλότητι,
εἰς εὐνὴν φοιτῶντε, φίλους λήθοντε τοκῆας.

στῆ δ’ αὐτῆς προπάροιθεν ἔπος τ’ ἔφατ’ ἔκ τ’ ὀνόμαζεν·
«Ἥρη, πῇ μεμαυῖα κατ’ Οὐλύμπου τόδ’ ἱκάνεις;
ἵπποι δ’ οὐ παρέασι καὶ ἅρματα τῶν κ’ ἐπιβαίης.»
Τὸν δὲ δολοφρονέουσα προσηύδα πότνια Ἥρη·
«ἔρχομαι ὀψομένη πολυφόρβου πείρατα γαίης,
Ὠκεανόν τε, θεῶν γένεσιν καὶ μητέρα Τηθύν,
οἵ με σφοῖσι δόμοισιν ἐῢ τρέφον ἠδ’ ἀτίταλλον·
τοὺς εἶμ’ ὀψομένη, καί σφ’ ἄκριτα νείκεα λύσω·
ἤδη γὰρ δηρὸν χρόνον ἀλλήλων ἀπέχονται
εὐνῆς καὶ φιλότητος, ἐπεὶ χόλος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ.
ἵπποι δ’ ἐν πρυμνωρείῃ πολυπίδακος Ἴδης
ἑστᾶσ’, οἵ μ’ οἴσουσιν ἐπὶ τραφερήν τε καὶ ὑγρήν.
νῦν δὲ σεῦ εἵνεκα δεῦρο κατ’ Οὐλύμπου τόδ’ ἱκάνω,
μή πώς μοι μετέπειτα χολώσεαι, αἴ κε σιωπῇ
οἴχωμαι πρὸς δῶμα βαθυῤῥόου Ὠκεανοῖο.»
Τὴν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
«Ἥρη, κεῖσε μὲν ἔστι καὶ ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι,
νῶϊ δ’ ἄγ’ ἐν φιλότητι τραπείομεν εὐνηθέντε.
οὐ γάρ πώ ποτέ μ’ ὧδε θεᾶς ἔρος οὐδὲ γυναικὸς
θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι περιπροχυθεὶς ἐδάμασσεν,
οὐδ’ ὁπότ’ ἠρασάμην Ἰξιονίης ἀλόχοιο,
ἣ τέκε Πειρίθοον θεόφιν μήστωρ’ ἀτάλαντον·
οὐδ’ ὅτε περ Δανάης καλλισφύρου Ἀκρισιώνης,
ἣ τέκε Περσῆα πάντων ἀριδείκετον ἀνδρῶν·
οὐδ’ ὅτε Φοίνικος κούρης τηλεκλειτοῖο,
ἣ τέκε μοι Μίνων τε καὶ ἀντίθεον Ῥαδάμανθυν·
οὐδ’ ὅτε περ Σεμέλης οὐδ’ Ἀλκμήνης ἐνὶ Θήβῃ,

ἥ ῥ’ Ἡρακλῆα κρατερόφρονα γείνατο παῖδα·
ἣ δὲ Διώνυσον Σεμέλη τέκε χάρμα βροτοῖσιν·
οὐδ’ ὅτε Δήμητρος καλλιπλοκάμοιο ἀνάσσης,
οὐδ’ ὁπότε Λητοῦς ἐρικυδέος, οὐδὲ σεῦ αὐτῆς,
ὡς σέο νῦν ἔραμαι καί με γλυκὺς ἵμερος αἱρεῖ.»
Τὸν δὲ δολοφρονέουσα προσηύδα πότνια Ἥρη·
«αἰνότατε Κρονίδη ποῖον τὸν μῦθον ἔειπες.
εἰ νῦν ἐν φιλότητι λιλαίεαι εὐνηθῆναι
Ἴδης ἐν κορυφῇσι, τὰ δὲ προπέφανται ἅπαντα·
πῶς κ’ ἔοι εἴ τις νῶϊ θεῶν αἰειγενετάων
εὕδοντ’ ἀθρήσειε, θεοῖσι δὲ πᾶσι μετελθὼν
πεφράδοι; οὐκ ἂν ἔγωγε τεὸν πρὸς δῶμα νεοίμην
ἐξ εὐνῆς ἀνστᾶσα, νεμεσσητὸν δέ κεν εἴη.
ἀλλ’ εἰ δή ῥ’ ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ,
ἔστιν τοι θάλαμος, τόν τοι φίλος υἱὸς ἔτευξεν
Ἥφαιστος, πυκινὰς δὲ θύρας σταθμοῖσιν ἐπῆρσεν·
ἔνθ’ ἴομεν κείοντες, ἐπεί νύ τοι εὔαδεν εὐνή.»
Τὴν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
«Ἥρη μήτε θεῶν τό γε δείδιθι μήτέ τιν’ ἀνδρῶν
ὄψεσθαι· τοῖόν τοι ἐγὼ νέφος ἀμφικαλύψω
χρύσεον· οὐδ’ ἂν νῶϊ διαδράκοι Ἠέλιός περ,
οὗ τε καὶ ὀξύτατον πέλεται φάος εἰσοράασθαι.»
Ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀγκὰς ἔμαρπτε Κρόνου παῖς ἣν παράκοιτιν·
τοῖσι δ’ ὑπὸ χθὼν δῖα φύεν νεοθηλέα ποίην,
λωτόν θ’ ἑρσήεντα ἰδὲ κρόκον ἠδ’ ὑάκινθον
πυκνὸν καὶ μαλακόν, ὃς ἀπὸ χθονὸς ὑψόσ’ ἔεργε.
τῷ ἔνι λεξάσθην, ἐπὶ δὲ νεφέλην ἕσσαντο
καλὴν χρυσείην· στιλπναὶ δ’ ἀπέπιπτον ἔερσαι.
Ὣς ὁ μὲν ἀτρέμας εὗδε πατὴρ ἀνὰ Γαργάρῳ ἄκρῳ,

ὕπνῳ καὶ φιλότητι δαμείς, ἔχε δ’ ἀγκὰς ἄκοιτιν·
βῆ δὲ θέειν ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν νήδυμος Ὕπνος
ἀγγελίην ἐρέων γαιηόχῳ ἐννοσιγαίῳ·
ἀγχοῦ δ’ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«πρόφρων νῦν Δαναοῖσι Ποσείδαον ἐπάμυνε,
καί σφιν κῦδος ὄπαζε μίνυνθά περ, ὄφρ’ ἔτι εὕδει
Ζεύς, ἐπεὶ αὐτῷ ἐγὼ μαλακὸν περὶ κῶμα κάλυψα·
Ἥρη δ’ ἐν φιλότητι παρήπαφεν εὐνηθῆναι.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ὃ μὲν ᾤχετ’ ἐπὶ κλυτὰ φῦλ’ ἀνθρώπων,
τὸν δ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἀνῆκεν ἀμυνέμεναι Δαναοῖσιν.
αὐτίκα δ’ ἐν πρώτοισι μέγα προθορὼν ἐκέλευσεν·
«Ἀργεῖοι καὶ δ’ αὖτε μεθίεμεν Ἕκτορι νίκην
Πριαμίδῃ, ἵνα νῆας ἕλῃ καὶ κῦδος ἄρηται;
ἀλλ’ ὃ μὲν οὕτω φησὶ καὶ εὔχεται οὕνεκ’ Ἀχιλλεὺς
νηυσὶν ἔπι γλαφυρῇσι μένει κεχολωμένος ἦτορ·
κείνου δ’ οὔ τι λίην ποθὴ ἔσσεται, εἴ κεν οἳ ἄλλοι
ἡμεῖς ὀτρυνώμεθ’ ἀμυνέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν.
ἀλλ’ ἄγεθ’ ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω πειθώμεθα πάντες·
ἀσπίδες ὅσσαι ἄρισται ἐνὶ στρατῷ ἠδὲ μέγισται
ἑσσάμενοι, κεφαλὰς δὲ παναίθῃσιν κορύθεσσι
κρύψαντες, χερσίν τε τὰ μακρότατ’ ἔγχε’ ἑλόντες,
ἴομεν· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἡγήσομαι, οὐδ’ ἔτι φημὶ
Ἕκτορα Πριαμίδην μενέειν μάλα περ μεμαῶτα.
ὃς δέ κ’ ἀνὴρ μενέχαρμος, ἔχει δ’ ὀλίγον σάκος ὤμῳ,
χείρονι φωτὶ δότω, ὃ δ’ ἐν ἀσπίδι μείζονι δύτω.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἱ δ’ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδὲ πίθοντο·
τοὺς δ’ αὐτοὶ βασιλῆες ἐκόσμεον οὐτάμενοί περ,
Τυδεΐδης Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Ἀγαμέμνων·
οἰχόμενοι δ’ ἐπὶ πάντας ἀρήϊα τεύχε’ ἄμειβον·
ἐσθλὰ μὲν ἐσθλὸς ἔδυνε, χέρεια δὲ χείρονι δόσκον.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ’ ἕσσαντο περὶ χροῒ νώροπα χαλκόν,
βάν ῥ’ ἴμεν· ἦρχε δ’ ἄρά σφι Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
δεινὸν ἄορ τανύηκες ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ παχείῃ,
εἴκελον ἀστεροπῇ· τῷ δ’ οὐ θέμις ἐστὶ μιγῆναι
ἐν δαῒ λευγαλέῃ, ἀλλὰ δέος ἰσχάνει ἄνδρας.
Τρῶας δ’ αὖθ’ ἑτέρωθεν ἐκόσμει φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ.
δή ῥα τότ’ αἰνοτάτην ἔριδα πτολέμοιο τάνυσσαν
κυανοχαῖτα Ποσειδάων καὶ φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ,
ἤτοι ὃ μὲν Τρώεσσιν, ὃ δ’ Ἀργείοισιν ἀρήγων.
ἐκλύσθη δὲ θάλασσα ποτὶ κλισίας τε νέας τε
Ἀργείων· οἳ δὲ ξύνισαν μεγάλῳ ἀλαλητῷ.
οὔτε θαλάσσης κῦμα τόσον βοάᾳ ποτὶ χέρσον,
ποντόθεν ὀρνύμενον πνοιῇ Βορέω ἀλεγεινῇ·
οὔτε πυρὸς τόσσός γε ποτὶ βρόμος αἰθομένοιο
οὔρεος ἐν βήσσῃς, ὅτε τ’ ὤρετο καιέμεν ὕλην·
οὔτ’ ἄνεμος τόσσόν γε περὶ δρυσὶν ὑψικόμοισι
ἠπύει, ὅς τε μάλιστα μέγα βρέμεται χαλεπαίνων,
ὅσση ἄρα Τρώων καὶ Ἀχαιῶν ἔπλετο φωνὴ
δεινὸν ἀϋσάντων, ὅτ’ ἐπ’ ἀλλήλοισιν ὄρουσαν.
Αἴαντος δὲ πρῶτος ἀκόντισε φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ
ἔγχει, ἐπεὶ τέτραπτο πρὸς ἰθύ οἱ, οὐδ’ ἀφάμαρτε,
τῇ ῥα δύω τελαμῶνε περὶ στήθεσσι τετάσθην,
ἤτοι ὃ μὲν σάκεος, ὃ δὲ φασγάνου ἀργυροήλου·
τώ οἱ ῥυσάσθην τέρενα χρόα. χώσατο δ’ Ἕκτωρ,
ὅττί ῥά οἱ βέλος ὠκὺ ἐτώσιον ἔκφυγε χειρός,
ἂψ δ’ ἑτάρων εἰς ἔθνος ἐχάζετο κῆρ’ ἀλεείνων.
τὸν μὲν ἔπειτ’ ἀπιόντα μέγας Τελαμώνιος Αἴας

χερμαδίῳ, τά ῥα πολλὰ θοάων ἔχματα νηῶν,
πὰρ ποσὶ μαρναμένων ἐκυλίνδετο, τῶν ἓν ἀείρας
στῆθος βεβλήκει ὑπὲρ ἄντυγος ἀγχόθι δειρῆς,
στρόμβον δ’ ὣς ἔσσευε βαλών, περὶ δ’ ἔδραμε πάντῃ.
ὡς δ’ ὅθ’ ὑπὸ πληγῆς πατρὸς Διὸς ἐξερίπῃ δρῦς
πρόῤῥιζος, δεινὴ δὲ θεείου γίγνεται ὀδμὴ
ἐξ αὐτῆς, τὸν δ’ οὔ περ ἔχει θράσος ὅς κεν ἴδηται
ἐγγὺς ἐών, χαλεπὸς δὲ Διὸς μεγάλοιο κεραυνός,
ὣς ἔπεσ’ Ἕκτορος ὦκα χαμαὶ μένος ἐν κονίῃσι·
χειρὸς δ’ ἔκβαλεν ἔγχος, ἐπ’ αὐτῷ δ’ ἀσπὶς ἑάφθη
καὶ κόρυς, ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ βράχε τεύχεα ποικίλα χαλκῷ.
οἳ δὲ μέγα ἰάχοντες ἐπέδραμον υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
ἐλπόμενοι ἐρύεσθαι, ἀκόντιζον δὲ θαμειὰς
αἰχμάς· ἀλλ’ οὔ τις ἐδυνήσατο ποιμένα λαῶν
οὐτάσαι οὐδὲ βαλεῖν· πρὶν γὰρ περίβησαν ἄριστοι,
Πουλυδάμας τε καὶ Αἰνείας καὶ δῖος Ἀγήνωρ
Σαρπηδών τ’ ἀρχὸς Λυκίων καὶ Γλαῦκος ἀμύμων.
τῶν δ’ ἄλλων οὔ τίς εὑ ἀκήδεσεν, ἀλλὰ πάροιθεν
ἀσπίδας εὐκύκλους σχέθον αὐτοῦ. τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ἑταῖροι
χερσὶν ἀείραντες φέρον ἐκ πόνου, ὄφρ’ ἵκεθ’ ἵππους
ὠκέας, οἵ οἱ ὄπισθε μάχης ἠδὲ πτολέμοιο
ἕστασαν ἡνίοχόν τε καὶ ἅρματα ποικίλ’ ἔχοντες·
οἳ τόν γε προτὶ ἄστυ φέρον βαρέα στενάχοντα.
Ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ πόρον ἷξον ἐϋῤῥεῖος ποταμοῖο,
Ξάνθου δινήεντος, ὃν ἀθάνατος τέκετο Ζεύς,
ἔνθά μιν ἐξ ἵππων πέλασαν χθονί, κὰδ δέ οἱ ὕδωρ
χεῦαν· ὃ δ’ ἀμπνύνθη καὶ ἀνέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ἑζόμενος δ’ ἐπὶ γοῦνα κελαινεφὲς αἷμ’ ἀπέμεσσεν·

αὖτις δ’ ἐξοπίσω πλῆτο χθονί, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
νὺξ ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα· βέλος δ’ ἔτι θυμὸν ἐδάμνα.
Ἀργεῖοι δ’ ὡς οὖν ἴδον Ἕκτορα νόσφι κιόντα,
μᾶλλον ἐπὶ Τρώεσσι θόρον, μνήσαντο δὲ χάρμης.
ἔνθα πολὺ πρώτιστος Ὀϊλῆος ταχὺς Αἴας
Σάτνιον οὔτασε δουρὶ μετάλμενος ὀξυόεντι
Ἠνοπίδην, ὃν ἄρα νύμφη τέκε νηῒς ἀμύμων
Ἤνοπι βουκολέοντι παρ’ ὄχθας Σατνιόεντος.
τὸν μὲν Ὀϊλιάδης δουρὶ κλυτὸς ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
οὖτα κατὰ λαπάρην· ὃ δ’ ἀνετράπετ’, ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρ’ αὐτῷ
Τρῶες καὶ Δαναοὶ σύναγον κρατερὴν ὑσμίνην.
τῷ δ’ ἐπὶ Πουλυδάμας ἐγχέσπαλος ἦλθεν ἀμύντωρ
Πανθοΐδης, βάλε δὲ Προθοήνορα δεξιὸν ὦμον,
υἱὸν Ἀρηϊλύκοιο, δι’ ὤμου δ’ ὄβριμον ἔγχος
ἔσχεν, ὃ δ’ ἐν κονίῃσι πεσὼν ἕλε γαῖαν ἀγοστῷ.
Πουλυδάμας δ’ ἔκπαγλον ἐπεύξατο μακρὸν ἀΰσας·
«οὐ μὰν αὖτ’ ὀΐω μεγαθύμου Πανθοΐδαο
χειρὸς ἄπο στιβαρῆς ἅλιον πηδῆσαι ἄκοντα,
ἀλλά τις Ἀργείων κόμισε χροΐ, καί μιν ὀΐω
αὐτῷ σκηπτόμενον κατίμεν δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Ἀργείοισι δ’ ἄχος γένετ’ εὐξαμένοιο·
Αἴαντι δὲ μάλιστα δαΐφρονι θυμὸν ὄρινε,
τῷ Τελαμωνιάδῃ· τοῦ γὰρ πέσεν ἄγχι μάλιστα.
καρπαλίμως δ’ ἀπιόντος ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ.
Πουλυδάμας δ’ αὐτὸς μὲν ἀλεύατο κῆρα μέλαιναν
λικριφὶς ἀΐξας, κόμισεν δ’ Ἀντήνορος υἱὸς
Ἀρχέλοχος· τῷ γάρ ῥα θεοὶ βούλευσαν ὄλεθρον.
τόν ῥ’ ἔβαλεν κεφαλῆς τε καὶ αὐχένος ἐν συνεοχμῷ,

νείατον ἀστράγαλον, ἀπὸ δ’ ἄμφω κέρσε τένοντε·
τοῦ δὲ πολὺ προτέρη κεφαλὴ στόμα τε ῥῖνές τε
οὔδεϊ πλῆντ’ ἤ περ κνῆμαι καὶ γοῦνα πεσόντος.
Αἴας δ’ αὖτ’ ἐγέγωνεν ἀμύμονι Πουλυδάμαντι·
«φράζεο Πουλυδάμα καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
ἦ ῥ’ οὐχ οὗτος ἀνὴρ Προθοήνορος ἀντὶ πεφάσθαι
ἄξιος; οὐ μέν μοι κακὸς εἴδεται οὐδὲ κακῶν ἔξ,
ἀλλὰ κασίγνητος Ἀντήνορος ἱπποδάμοιο,
ἢ πάϊς· αὐτῷ γὰρ γενεὴν ἄγχιστα ἐῴκει.»
Ἦ ῥ’ εὖ γιγνώσκων, Τρῶας δ’ ἄχος ἔλλαβε θυμόν.
ἔνθ’ Ἀκάμας Πρόμαχον Βοιώτιον οὔτασε δουρί,
ἀμφὶ κασιγνήτῳ βεβαώς· ὃ δ’ ὕφελκε ποδοῖιν.
τῷ δ’ Ἀκάμας ἔκπαγλον ἐπεύξατο μακρὸν ἀΰσας·
«Ἀργεῖοι ἰόμωροι ἀπειλάων ἀκόρητοι,
οὔ θην οἴοισίν γε πόνος τ’ ἔσεται καὶ ὀϊζὺς
ἡμῖν, ἀλλά ποθ’ ὧδε κατακτενέεσθε καὶ ὔμμες.
φράζεσθ’ ὡς ὑμῖν Πρόμαχος δεδμημένος εὕδει
ἔγχει ἐμῷ, ἵνα μή τι κασιγνήτοιό γε ποινὴ
δηρὸν ἄτιτος ἔῃ· τὼ καί κέ τις εὔχεται ἀνὴρ
γνωτὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἀρῆς ἀλκτῆρα λιπέσθαι.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Ἀργείοισι δ’ ἄχος γένετ’ εὐξαμένοιο·
Πηνέλεῳ δὲ μάλιστα δαΐφρονι θυμὸν ὄρινεν·
ὁρμήθη δ’ Ἀκάμαντος· ὃ δ’ οὐχ ὑπέμεινεν ἐρωὴν
Πηνελέωο ἄνακτος· ὃ δ’ οὔτασεν Ἰλιονῆα,
υἱὸν Φόρβαντος πολυμήλου, τόν ῥα μάλιστα
Ἑρμείας Τρώων ἐφίλει καὶ κτῆσιν ὄπασσε·
τῷ δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπὸ μήτηρ μοῦνον τέκεν Ἰλιονῆα.
τὸν τόθ’ ὑπ’ ὀφρύος οὖτα κατ’ ὀφθαλμοῖο θέμεθλα,
ἐκ δ’ ὦσε γλήνην· δόρυ δ’ ὀφθαλμοῖο διαπρὸ

καὶ διὰ ἰνίου ἦλθεν, ὁ δ’ ἕζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας
ἄμφω· Πηνέλεως δὲ ἐρυσσάμενος ξίφος ὀξὺ
αὐχένα μέσσον ἔλασσεν, ἀπήραξεν δὲ χαμᾶζε
αὐτῇ σὺν πήληκι κάρη· ἔτι δ’ ὄβριμον ἔγχος
ἦεν ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ· ὃ δὲ φὴ κώδειαν ἀνασχὼν
πέφραδέ τε Τρώεσσι καὶ εὐχόμενος ἔπος ηὔδα·
«εἰπέμεναί μοι, Τρῶες ἀγαυοῦ Ἰλιονῆος
πατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητρὶ γοήμεναι ἐν μεγάροισιν·
οὐδὲ γὰρ ἣ Προμάχοιο δάμαρ Ἀλεγηνορίδαο
ἀνδρὶ φίλῳ ἐλθόντι γανύσσεται, ὁππότε κεν δὴ
ἐκ Τροίης σὺν νηυσὶ νεώμεθα κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν.»
Ὣς φάτο, τοὺς δ’ ἄρα πάντας ὑπὸ τρόμος ἔλλαβε γυῖα,
πάπτηνεν δὲ ἕκαστος ὅπῃ φύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.
Ἔσπετε νῦν μοι, Μοῦσαι Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχουσαι,
ὅς τις δὴ πρῶτος βροτόεντ’ ἀνδράγρι’ Ἀχαιῶν
ἤρατ’, ἐπεί ῥ’ ἔκλινε μάχην κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.
Αἴας ῥα πρῶτος Τελαμώνιος Ὕρτιον οὖτα
Γυρτιάδην Μυσῶν ἡγήτορα καρτεροθύμων·
Φάλκην δ’ Ἀντίλοχος καὶ Μέρμερον ἐξενάριξε·
Μηριόνης δὲ Μόρυν τε καὶ Ἱπποτίωνα κατέκτα,
Τεῦκρος δὲ Προθόωνά τ’ ἐνήρατο καὶ Περιφήτην·
Ἀτρεΐδης δ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειθ’ Ὑπερήνορα ποιμένα λαῶν
οὖτα κατὰ λαπάρην, διὰ δ’ ἔντερα χαλκὸς ἄφυσσε
δῃώσας· ψυχὴ δὲ κατ’ οὐταμένην ὠτειλὴν
ἔσσυτ’ ἐπειγομένη, τὸν δὲ σκότος ὄσσε κάλυψε.
πλείστους δ’ Αἴας εἷλεν Ὀϊλῆος ταχὺς υἱός·
οὐ γάρ οἵ τις ὁμοῖος ἐπισπέσθαι ποσὶν ἦεν
ἀνδρῶν τρεσσάντων, ὅτε τε Ζεὺς ἐν φόβον ὄρσῃ.

THE ILIAD XIV

Yet the cry did not escape Nestor, even as he drank; and he spoke winged words to the son of Asclepius: “Consider, noble Machaon, what will come of these deeds, for the clamor of our lusty warriors by the ships grows ever louder. But for now, you must sit and drink the gleaming wine until fair-tressed Hecamede heats warm water for your bath and washes the clotted gore from your wounds. I, meanwhile, will go at once to a place of vantage and see for myself.” So saying, he took up the well-wrought shield of his son, the horse-taming Thrasymedes, which lay gleaming with bronze in the tent, for the son carried his father’s shield. He grasped a stout spear tipped with sharp bronze, and stepping outside the tent, he at once beheld a grim sight: the Achaeans in turmoil, and behind them the high-hearted Trojans driving them in rout, for the wall of the Achaeans had been breached. As when the great sea darkens with a silent swell, brooding upon the swift paths of the shrieking winds, and rolls neither one way nor the other, until a decisive gust is sent down from Zeus; so the old man’s mind was torn, whether he should join the throng of the swift-horsed Danaans, or seek out Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the people. And as he pondered, it seemed to him the better course to go to the son of Atreus. All the while, the others fought on, slaughtering one another, and the unyielding bronze rang about their bodies as they were struck with swords and two-edged spears. Then Nestor was met by the kings, cherished of Zeus, who were coming up from the ships—all who had been wounded by the bronze: the son of Tydeus, Odysseus, and Agamemnon, son of Atreus. For their ships were drawn up far from the fighting, on the shore of the grey sea; the first ones they had hauled onto the plain, and the wall was built behind their sterns. The beach, wide though it was, could not contain all their vessels, and the men were crowded; so they had drawn them up in rows, filling the entire length of the bay between the two headlands. Thus the kings, leaning on their spears, came forward together to look upon the clamor and the strife, their hearts heavy with sorrow in their breasts. And when the old man, Nestor, met them, he struck fear into the hearts of the Achaeans. Lord Agamemnon raised his voice and spoke to him: “O Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, why have you left the man-slaying battle to come here? I fear that mighty Hector will make good the threat he once uttered in an assembly of the Trojans: that he would not return to Ilium from our ships until he had set them aflame and slain our men. So he spoke, and now all this is coming to pass. Ah, woe is me! Surely the other well-greaved Achaeans, like Achilles, now nurse resentment against me in their hearts and are no longer willing to fight at the sterns of our ships.” To this, the Gerenian horseman Nestor replied: “Indeed, these things have come to pass, nor could Zeus himself, who thunders on high, ordain it otherwise. For the wall in which we trusted to be an unbreakable bulwark for ourselves and our ships has fallen. And now beside the swift ships they wage a relentless and ceaseless battle. You could not tell, even by looking closely, from which side the Achaeans are being driven in confusion, so mingled is the slaughter, and their cries pierce the heavens. Let us consider what must be done, if thought can avail us now. But I do not urge that we ourselves enter the fray, for a wounded man cannot be expected to fight.” Then Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him: “Nestor, since they are fighting at the very sterns of our ships, and since the wall we built has not saved us, nor the trench over which the Danaans labored so hard, hoping in their hearts it would be an unbreakable bulwark for themselves and our ships, then it must be the will of all-powerful Zeus that the Achaeans should perish here, far from Argos, without a name. I knew it when he was minded to aid the Danaans, and I know it now, when he grants glory to our foes as to the blessed gods, while shackling our own might and our hands. So come, let us all do as I say. Let us take the ships from the first row, those nearest the sea, and drag them all down into the bright water. Let us moor them with anchor stones far out, until immortal night falls, in the hope that the Trojans might even then cease their warring. Then we could launch all our other ships. There is no shame in fleeing ruin, even under the cover of night. It is better to flee and escape ruin than to be captured.” But Odysseus of many wiles gave him a dark look and said: “Son of Atreus, what words have escaped the barrier of your teeth? You are a doomed man! You should be leading some other, worthless army, not ruling over us, to whom Zeus has granted, from youth to old age, the weaving of grievous wars until every one of us perishes. Are you truly so eager to abandon the wide-wayed city of the Trojans, for which we have suffered so many sorrows? Be silent, lest some other Achaean hear this proposal, a speech that no man should ever let pass his lips, if he has sense in his heart to speak rightly, is a scepter-bearing king, and commands as many men as you rule among the Argives. I utterly condemn the judgment you have shown, you who bid us, in the midst of war and the din of battle, to drag our well-benched ships to the sea, so that the Trojans, who already have the upper hand, may see their prayers fulfilled, and utter ruin fall upon us. For the Achaeans will not hold their ground in the fight once the ships are being hauled to the sea; they will look back and shrink from the fray. There, O leader of the people, your counsel would bring about our destruction.” Then Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him: “Odysseus, your harsh rebuke has cut me to the heart. Yet I do not command the sons of the Achaeans to drag their well-benched ships to the sea against their will. But now, if there is one, young or old, who can offer better counsel than this, it would be welcome to me.” Then Diomedes of the loud war-cry spoke among them: “Such a man is near; you shall not have long to seek, if you are willing to listen, and if you do not grow angry with me, each of you, because I am the youngest in years among you. Yet I too claim to be of noble lineage, from a brave father, Tydeus, whom the piled earth now covers in Thebes. For three blameless sons were born to Portheus, and they dwelt in Pleuron and steep Calydon: Agrius, Melas, and the third was the horseman Oeneus, my father’s father, who surpassed the others in valor. He remained there, but my father, after much wandering, settled in Argos, for such, I believe, was the will of Zeus and the other gods. He married one of the daughters of Adrastus and lived in a house rich in substance; he had fields of wheat-bearing land in abundance, and many orchards of trees all around, and great flocks of sheep. In the use of the spear, he excelled all other Achaeans. You must have heard these things, if they are true. Therefore, you cannot say I am born of a base or cowardly line and so disregard the good counsel I may offer. Let us go to the battle, wounded as we are, for we must. Once there, we will keep ourselves out of the fighting and away from the missiles, lest any man receive a new wound upon an old one. But we will spur on the others and send them into the fray—those who until now have indulged their temper and stood aloof, refusing to fight.” So he spoke, and they listened to him readily and obeyed. They set out, and Agamemnon, lord of men, led the way. Nor was the glorious Earth-Shaker keeping a blind watch. He went among them in the guise of an old man, and he grasped the right hand of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, and raising his voice, spoke winged words to him: “Son of Atreus, surely now the destructive heart of Achilles rejoices in his breast as he beholds the slaughter and rout of the Achaeans, for there is no sense in him, not even a little. But may he perish so, and may a god bring him to ruin. As for you, the blessed gods are not yet utterly wroth with you. The leaders and rulers of the Trojans will yet raise dust on the wide plain, and you yourself will see them fleeing toward their city from the ships and the tents.” With these words, he let out a great cry and charged across the plain. As loud as nine or ten thousand men cry out in battle when they join the strife of Ares, so mighty was the voice that the lord Earth-Shaker sent forth from his chest. And into the heart of every Achaean he cast great strength, to fight and to wage war without ceasing. Hera of the golden throne saw him from a peak of Olympus where she stood, and at once she recognized her own brother and her husband’s brother as he hastened through the glorious battle, and her heart rejoiced. But then she caught sight of Zeus, sitting on the highest crest of many-fountained Ida, and she was filled with hatred for him. Then the ox-eyed queen Hera considered how she might beguile the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus. And this seemed to her the best plan: to go to Ida after adorning herself beautifully, in the hope that he might feel a desire to lie with her in love, and she could then pour a deep and gentle sleep upon his eyelids and his shrewd mind. She went to her chamber, which her own dear son, Hephaestus, had built for her, fitting its sturdy doors to the doorposts with a secret bolt that no other god could open. Entering, she closed the shining doors. First, with ambrosia she cleansed from her lovely skin every stain, and anointed herself with lustrous olive oil, ambrosial and sweet-scented, which had been perfumed for her; its fragrance, even when stirred within the bronze-floored house of Zeus, reached to the earth and to the heavens. Having anointed her beautiful skin with this and combed her hair, with her own hands she plaited her shining tresses, beautiful and ambrosial, that flowed from her immortal head. Then she wrapped herself in an ambrosial robe that Athena had skillfully woven for her and adorned with rich embroidery. She fastened it across her breast with golden brooches, and she girded her waist with a girdle fitted with a hundred tassels. In her pierced earlobes she placed earrings of three brilliant drops, and a great radiance shone from her. Then the divine goddess covered herself with a beautiful, newly made veil, as white as the sun, and beneath her gleaming feet she bound lovely sandals. When she had arrayed her body in all this finery, she came forth from her chamber and called Aphrodite aside from the other gods, and spoke a word to her: “My dear child, will you do as I ask? Or will you refuse me, being angry in your heart because I aid the Danaans while you aid the Trojans?” To her, Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, replied: “Hera, revered goddess, daughter of great Cronos, speak your mind. My heart bids me fulfill your wish, if I am able to, and if it is something that can be done.” Then the queen Hera, with cunning in her heart, addressed her: “Give me now the Love and Desire with which you subdue all immortals and mortal men. For I am going to the ends of the bountiful earth to visit Oceanus, the genesis of the gods, and mother Tethys, who raised and nurtured me with care in their own halls, having received me from Rhea when far-seeing Zeus cast Cronos beneath the earth and the unharvested sea. I go to see them and to resolve their endless quarrel. For it has been a long time since they have shared the bed of love, for anger has fallen upon their hearts. If I can persuade their hearts with words and bring them back to their bed to be united in love, I shall forever be called dear and revered by them.” To this, laughter-loving Aphrodite answered: “It is not possible, nor would it be seemly, to refuse your request, for you sleep in the arms of Zeus, the greatest of gods.” She spoke, and from her breast she unfastened the intricately embroidered sash, wherein all her enchantments were fashioned. In it were Love and Desire and whispered sweet-talk, that subtle persuasion which steals the wits of even the wisest. She placed it in Hera’s hands and spoke, saying: “Take this sash now and place it in your bosom—this intricate sash, in which all things are contained. I do not think you will return unsuccessful in what your heart desires.” So she spoke, and the ox-eyed queen Hera smiled, and smiling, placed the sash in her bosom. Then Aphrodite, the daughter of Zeus, returned to her father’s house, while Hera darted from the peak of Olympus. She passed over Pieria and lovely Emathia, and sped over the snowy mountains of the horse-breeding Thracians, over their highest peaks, her feet not touching the ground. From Athos she stepped upon the surging sea and came to Lemnos, the city of divine Thoas. There she met Hypnos, the brother of Thanatos, and she clasped his hand and spoke, addressing him by name: “Hypnos, lord of all gods and all men, if ever before you have heeded my word, obey me now, and I will be grateful to you all my days. Lull for me the bright eyes of Zeus under his brows, as soon as I have lain with him in love. And I will give you gifts: a beautiful throne, forever indestructible, wrought of gold. My son, the lame god Hephaestus, will fashion it with skill and place a footstool beneath it for you to rest your gleaming feet upon when you dine.” Then sweet Sleep answered her: “Hera, revered goddess, daughter of great Cronos, any other of the everlasting gods I could easily lull to sleep, even the currents of the river Oceanus, who is the source of all. But I would not dare draw near to Zeus, son of Cronos, nor lull him to sleep, unless he himself commanded it. For I learned my lesson once before from your command, on that day when the high-hearted son of Zeus sailed from Ilium after sacking the city of the Trojans. I lulled the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus, pouring my sweetness about him, while you devised evils in your heart, rousing gusts of harsh winds over the sea. You then carried him away to the well-peopled island of Cos, far from all his friends. He, upon waking, was enraged, and he hurled the gods about his palace, seeking me above all others. And he would have cast me unseen from the aether into the sea, had not Nyx, the subduer of gods and men, saved me. I fled to her, and he checked his anger, for he was loath to do anything that would displease swift Night. And now you ask me to perform another impossible task.” But the ox-eyed queen Hera answered him again: “Hypnos, why do you trouble your mind with such thoughts? Do you think far-seeing Zeus will be as enraged in his defense of the Trojans as he was for his own son, Heracles? Come, and I will give you one of the younger Graces to wed, to be called your wife: Pasithea, whom you have longed for all your days.” So she spoke, and Hypnos was filled with joy and answered her: “Come then, swear to me now by the inviolable water of the Styx. Lay one hand on the all-nourishing earth and the other on the shimmering sea, so that all the gods below who are with Cronos may be our witnesses, that you will truly give me one of the younger Graces, Pasithea, whom I myself have desired all my days.” He spoke, and the white-armed goddess Hera did not disobey, but swore as he bid, naming all the gods below Tartarus who are called the Titans. And when she had sworn and completed her oath, the two of them left the cities of Lemnos and Imbros and, cloaked in mist, journeyed swiftly on their way. They came to many-fountained Ida, mother of wild beasts, at Lectum, where they first left the sea. They went on over the land, and the treetops swayed beneath their feet. There Hypnos remained, before the eyes of Zeus could see him, climbing a towering pine tree, the tallest that grew on Ida, which pierced the mists and reached the heavens. There he sat, hidden by the pine branches, in the likeness of a clear-voiced mountain bird that the gods call chalcis, and men, cymindis. Hera then went swiftly to Gargarus, the highest peak of Ida, and Zeus the cloud-gatherer saw her. The moment he saw her, desire enveloped his shrewd mind, just as it had when they first lay together in love, going to their bed without the knowledge of their dear parents. He stood before her and spoke, addressing her by name: “Hera, where are you coming from Olympus with such haste? Your horses and chariot are not here for you to ride.” Then the queen Hera, with cunning in her heart, addressed him: “I am going to the ends of the bountiful earth to visit Oceanus, the genesis of the gods, and mother Tethys, who raised and nurtured me with care in their own halls. I go to see them and to resolve their endless quarrel. For it has been a long time since they have shared the bed of love, for anger has fallen upon their hearts. My horses, which will carry me over land and sea, stand at the foot of many-fountained Ida. But now I have come here from Olympus for your sake, lest you be angry with me later if I should go in silence to the house of deep-flowing Oceanus.” To her, Zeus the cloud-gatherer replied: “Hera, you may journey there later. But for now, come, let us turn to love and lie together. For never has such love for a goddess or a woman so overwhelmed the heart in my breast—not when I was seized with love for the wife of Ixion, who bore Pirithous, a counselor equal to the gods; nor for Danae of the lovely ankles, daughter of Acrisius, who bore Perseus, preeminent among all men; nor for the daughter of far-famed Phoenix, who bore me Minos and godlike Rhadamanthus; nor for Semele, nor for Alcmene in Thebes, who brought forth Heracles, her lion-hearted son, while Semele bore Dionysus, a joy to mortals; nor for the fair-tressed queen Demeter, nor for glorious Leto, nor for you yourself—as I now love you, and sweet desire takes hold of me.” Then the queen Hera, with cunning in her heart, addressed him: “Most terrible son of Cronos, what words you have spoken! If you now desire to lie in love upon the peaks of Ida, where all is in plain sight, what would happen if one of the everlasting gods were to see us sleeping and go and tell all the others? I could not then return to your house, rising from this bed; it would be a shameful thing. But if you truly desire this, and it is dear to your heart, you have a chamber which your own son Hephaestus built for you, fitting its sturdy doors to the doorposts. Let us go there to lie down, since bed is what pleases you.” To her, Zeus the cloud-gatherer replied: “Hera, fear not that any god or man will see us. I shall conceal us in a golden cloud so thick that not even Helios could spy us, though his sight is the sharpest of all.” So spoke the son of Cronos, and he clasped his wife in his arms. And beneath them the divine earth sprouted fresh-growing grass, dewy lotus and crocus and hyacinth, thick and soft, which held them up from the ground. There they lay, and they drew about them a beautiful golden cloud, from which glistening dewdrops fell. Thus the Father slept soundly on the peak of Gargarus, overcome by sleep and love, holding his wife in his arms. And sweet Hypnos ran to the ships of the Achaeans to bear his tidings to the Holder and Shaker of the Earth. Standing close to him, he spoke winged words: “Poseidon, now with a willing heart aid the Danaans, and grant them glory for a little while, as long as Zeus still sleeps; for I have wrapped him in a soft slumber, and Hera has beguiled him to lie with her in love.” Having spoken, he departed for the famed tribes of men, and his words stirred Poseidon even more to aid the Danaans. At once he sprang to the forefront and cried out: “Argives, shall we again yield victory to Hector, son of Priam, so that he may take our ships and win glory? That is what he claims and prays for, all because Achilles remains by the hollow ships, nursing his wrath. But we shall feel no great need of him, if we, the rest of us, rouse ourselves to help one another. So come, let us all do as I say. Let us arm ourselves with the best and largest shields in the camp, cover our heads with gleaming helmets, and take the longest spears in our hands, and let us go. I myself will lead the way, and I do not think Hector, son of Priam, will hold his ground long, for all his fury. And any strong fighter who bears only a small shield on his shoulder, let him give it to a lesser man, and take up a larger one himself.” So he spoke, and they listened to him readily and obeyed. The kings themselves, though wounded—the son of Tydeus, Odysseus, and Agamemnon, son of Atreus—marshaled the men. Going through all the ranks, they directed the exchange of armor: the good warrior donned the good armor, and the worse was given to the lesser man. And when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze, they moved forward. Poseidon the Earth-Shaker led them, holding in his mighty hand a terrible, long-bladed sword that flashed like lightning. It is not lawful for any man to face that blade in the grimness of battle; fear holds them back. On the other side, glorious Hector marshaled the Trojans. And then the dark-haired Poseidon and glorious Hector stretched the dreadful cords of war, one aiding the Trojans, the other the Argives. The sea surged up to the tents and ships of the Argives, and the two armies clashed with a mighty roar. Not so loud does the sea wave thunder against the shore, when it is driven from the deep by the harsh blast of the North Wind; not so loud is the roar of a blazing fire in the glens of a mountain when it rises to burn a forest; nor does the wind shriek so loud in the high-tressed oaks—the wind that bellows its loudest in its rage—as was the cry of the Trojans and Achaeans, shouting terribly as they rushed upon one another. Glorious Hector was the first to cast his spear at Ajax, who had turned to face him, and he did not miss his mark. He struck him where the two baldrics were stretched across his chest, one for his shield and one for his silver-hilted sword. These two saved his soft flesh. Hector was enraged that his swift weapon had flown from his hand in vain, and he began to retreat into the throng of his comrades, avoiding death. But as he drew back, great Ajax, son of Telamon, picked up one of the many stones that lay rolling about the feet of the fighters, used as props for the swift ships. Hoisting it, he struck Hector on the chest, near the neck, above the rim of his shield, and sent him spinning like a top with the blow, so that he reeled round and round. As when an oak tree falls uprooted beneath a blow from Father Zeus, and a dreadful smell of sulfur rises from it, and no man who sees it from nearby can keep his courage, for the thunderbolt of great Zeus is a terrible thing; so Hector’s strength fell swiftly to the earth in the dust. The spear dropped from his hand, and his shield and helmet were pinned beneath him, and his ornate bronze armor clattered about him. With a great shout, the sons of the Achaeans rushed forward, hoping to drag him away, and they hurled a thick volley of spears. But no one could wound or strike the shepherd of the people, for the bravest warriors quickly formed a circle around him: Polydamas, Aeneas, noble Agenor, Sarpedon, leader of the Lycians, and blameless Glaucus. None of the others neglected him, but held their round shields before him. His comrades lifted him in their arms and carried him out of the fray until he reached his swift horses, which stood waiting for him with his charioteer and his ornate chariot behind the lines of battle. They bore him, groaning heavily, toward the city. When they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, the eddying Xanthus, which immortal Zeus had begotten, they lifted him from the chariot to the ground and poured water over him. He revived and opened his eyes, and sitting on his knees, he vomited black blood. Then he fell back onto the ground, and dark night covered his eyes, for the blow still overwhelmed his spirit. When the Argives saw Hector departing, they pressed on against the Trojans with greater fury and thought only of the fight. There, Oilean Ajax, swift of foot, was the very first to leap forward and wound Satnius, son of Enops, with his sharp spear. A blameless naiad nymph had borne him to Enops as he tended his cattle by the banks of the Satnioeis. The son of Oileus, famed for his spear, came close and struck him in the flank; he fell backward, and a fierce battle between Trojans and Danaans arose around him. To avenge him came Polydamas, the spear-wielding son of Panthous, and he struck the right shoulder of Prothoenor, son of Areilycus. The mighty spear passed clean through his shoulder, and he fell in the dust and clawed the earth with his hand. Polydamas boasted terribly with a great cry: “I do not think that the spear from the strong hand of the great-souled son of Panthous has flown in vain! One of the Argives has caught it in his flesh, and I believe he will use it as a staff to descend into the house of Hades.” So he spoke, and sorrow came upon the Argives at his boast. Most of all, it stirred the heart of the warrior Ajax, son of Telamon, for the man had fallen very near him. He swiftly cast his shining spear at Polydamas as he drew back. But Polydamas himself escaped black death by swerving aside; instead, Antenor’s son, Archelochus, received the blow, for the gods had willed his destruction. He was struck where the head joins the neck at the top of the spine, and the spear severed both tendons. His head, mouth, and nose hit the ground long before his legs and knees as he fell. Then Ajax in turn taunted blameless Polydamas: “Consider this, Polydamas, and tell me truly: is this man not a worthy exchange for Prothoenor? He does not seem to me a common man, nor from a common line, but a brother of horse-taming Antenor, or perhaps a son, for he greatly resembles him in his features.” He spoke with sure knowledge, and grief seized the hearts of the Trojans. Then Acamas, bestriding his brother, wounded the Boeotian Promachus, who was trying to drag Archelochus away by the feet. Acamas boasted terribly with a great cry: “Argive archers, insatiable in your threats! Not for us alone will there be toil and sorrow, but you too will be slain in this way one day. See how your Promachus lies sleeping, vanquished by my spear, so that the price for my brother’s death may not go long unpaid. Thus a man prays to leave a kinsman in his halls to avenge his fall.” So he spoke, and sorrow came upon the Argives at his boast. Most of all, it stirred the heart of the warrior Peneleos. He charged at Acamas, but Acamas did not withstand the attack of King Peneleos. Instead, Peneleos wounded Ilioneus, son of Phorbas, a man rich in flocks, whom Hermes loved above all Trojans and had blessed with wealth. His mother bore him, Ilioneus, as her only child. Peneleos struck him then beneath the brow, at the socket of his eye, and pushed the eyeball out. The spear passed right through the eye and out the back of his head, and he sank down, stretching out both his hands. Peneleos, drawing his sharp sword, struck him full on the neck and lopped the head, with the helmet still on it, to the ground. The mighty spear was still in the eye, and holding the head up like a poppy, he displayed it to the Trojans and shouted in triumph: “Go now, Trojans, and tell the dear father and mother of noble Ilioneus to mourn for him in their halls. For the wife of Promachus, son of Alegenor, will not rejoice at her dear husband’s return, when we young Achaeans sail home from Troy with our ships.” So he spoke, and a trembling seized the limbs of them all, and every man looked about for a way to escape utter ruin. Tell me now, O Muses who have your dwellings on Olympus, who was the first of the Achaeans to carry off bloody spoils, after the glorious Earth-Shaker turned the tide of battle. Ajax, son of Telamon, was the first. He wounded Hyrtius, son of Gyrtius, leader of the stout-hearted Mysians. And Antilochus slew Phalces and Mermerus. Meriones killed Morys and Hippotion, and Teucer brought down Prothoon and Periphetes. The son of Atreus then wounded Hyperenor, shepherd of the people, in the flank, and the bronze tore through his entrails and spilled them forth. His soul rushed out through the gaping wound, and darkness covered his eyes. But Ajax, the swift son of Oileus, slew the most, for there was no man like him on foot to pursue fleeing men when Zeus had struck terror into them.

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